Coda to episode 2x13 as well as a small look into Moira's psyche.

She usually drank her scotch on the rocks, but tonight, she threw back three fingers of Glenlivet neat before pouring herself another glass.

She'd asked Raisa to light the fire in her grate, and Moira stood watching the blaze, lips pressed into a thin line.

Her address had apparently been a tremendous success, the numbers showing what she barely dared believe - the people of Starling were willing to follow her.

She had every reason to celebrate, but instead she felt cold, trying to burn the chill away with a crackling fire and 21 year old single malt.

I know.

With just two words, the chill had set deep in her bones, but she was an old hand at hiding her emotions - her terror, her guilt. One glance over at the blonde secretary in the audience had confirmed her suspicions. Her son's executive assistant had only had eyes for him, expression worried, wringing her hands, nail polish obnoxiously bright.

Oh, how she had underestimated Felicity Smoak.

Moira downed her scotch and stared into the empty glass. She could feel the liquid fire settling in her stomach, but she was anything but settled.

Oliver had gone, and his words still rang in her ears.

As of right now, we have no relationship.

Everything she had been afraid of, all of the reasons she had kept this from her children, had come true. Oliver was never going to forgive her. And she had known. She'd told Felicity as much. Why couldn't she have just listened?

Had she misunderstood? Had she read Felicity wrong? Moira had seen how Felicity looked at Oliver. Any idiot could see the regard she held for her son. She had seen the infatuation many times before. Girls in photographs with Oliver, with stars in their eyes, the hope that maybethey were the ones. Some just wanted the publicity, yes. But more often than not, there was excitement, and just a bit of desperation. A silent prayer that they would be the girl to stick, to change him, to save him. It was pathetic. Laughable.

Moira wasn't laughing.

She had seen that look in Felicity's eyes, and assumed it was the same - that the young woman would do anything to keep her relationship going. She and Oliver weren't sleeping together, that much she'd been able to tell, but Felicity saw him as more than her boss, wanted more. So why…?

I thought you deserved the chance to tell Oliver yourself. He should hear it from you.

Moira shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, and sat on the edge of her bed, shoulders slumping.

She had read the young woman wrong. She had been so, so wrong. Moira may have scared her with her threat, but Felicity had never intended on keeping anything from Oliver. Regardless of the outcome, regardless of her fear, she -

You lied because that is what you do. That is who you are, Mom. Lies.

She was honest. Felicity was honest. Oliver had finally found someone who would never lie to him.

Felicity Smoak had ruined everything, and as Moira sat there in her misery, face crumpling, allowing herself just one small moment of weakness before she needed to be Moira Queen again, a part of her was -

A part of her was glad.