Part One
1.
"I was the infector.
I was the poison breather.
I was a professional,
but you have saved me
from the awful bubble
of that calling."
- Anne Sexton, from The Complete Poems
Oliver crouches in the thick shadows of the building, feeling his heart rate slow down with every controlled breath as he focuses his senses to a needle's point. He lets himself become one with the darkness, until his muscles are loose and his exhales thin enough not to disturb the air around him. Until he can pick up where every sound of the night comes from and who is making it; what is relevant and what is not, and every pebble of the uneven ground beneath his boots.
This is how he used to hunt on the island... and after: still in one place for hours, until he was part of the scenery. Until he was as cold or as hot as the stones around him, the earth beneath, and his prey wouldn't see him coming.
He's hunting now too – though his prey is of a different nature. He listens to his team take position, calmly executing through their own part of the plan with a seamless sharpness that is starting to become familiar.
"Ok. I just hacked the feed," Felicity's steady voice informs him. "For the next half an hour I own the building."
Oliver swallows down the nerves that her voice brings to the surface, trying not to think about how she's alone in there, and nods.
"Good. Digg-"
"I got her, man," John immediately intercepts. Oliver knows that he does, but he still struggles with the idea of putting Felicity in any kind of danger.
It's useless though: this was the only way.
"Ok," He says finally. "Everyone get in position."
And he's about to move, when another voice, one he hasn't heard in months, cuts the silence, startling everyone into attention.
"Need an extra hand?"
Oliver freezes.
"Sara!" Felicity's whispered shout in his ear almost makes him flinch. It's her voice and the naked enthusiasm in it however, that jars him out of his momentary stupor and disbelief.
Sara's answering chuckle is warm and sounds so close Oliver itches to reach out.
"Yup," Sara says and Oliver finds himself smiling, answering that smile he can hear in Sara's voice as well.
Felicity's practically squealing. "Oh my god, I missed you!"
Sara laughs at that, warm and close.
"Oh come on, I haven't been gone that long," She points out, though there is a definite note of affection in her voice, one that Oliver can easily spot because he knows how Sara sounds when she's missed someone. "I was on my way to another meeting point when I picked up your radio chatter. You should mix up the frequencies a bit, Felicity."
"I mix them enough," Felicity answers pointedly and Oliver's lips twitch.
He knows that the only reason Felicity leaves their communication system open in channels Sara is familiar with, is so that the Canary can pick them up whenever she likes. It's the door that Felicity holds always open for her, a huge 'welcome home sign', and Oliver would bet anything that Sara knows that.
"Good to hear your voice, Canary," Digg says warmly.
"Yeah. It is," Roy adds, and Oliver has to give it to the kid for fairness there, cause the last time Sara and Roy saw each other it wasn't in the best of circumstances.
"Ok everyone. Focus. We have a job to do," Oliver reminds them.
"Right," Sara says tersely. "Where do you guys need me?"
Oliver feels smile growing, that warmth in the pit of his belly heating him up all the way to the tips of his fingers gripping his bow.
"Canary, you're shadowing Arsenal. Let him fill you in. Felicity-"
"Alright. Time for some fireworks." And if she sounds just a little bit too excited for someone who's about to blow a hole into a building, it only makes Oliver smile. "This one's for you Canary. A welcome home treat."
Sara chuckles. "Sweet of you."
"Bombing instead of a gift-card," Roy deadpans. "Aren't you getting a bit extreme here, Felicity."
Felicity scoffs. "Such a critic."
"You do have a bit of an arsonist in you, babe," Sara points out nonchalantly. Digg snorts. Oliver tries to hold his back.
"Everyone has their calling," Felicity says and Oliver can practically hear the shrug in her voice. "Timer's set. And 3... 2... 1..."
The explosion tears the silence of the night apart like a thunderclap and Oliver feels the hair at the back of his neck stand up. Time to get to work.
Felicity's fingers fly over the keyboard as layers and layers of data give in to her will. But the programming changes and as she goes deeper into it, peeling the protection back like an orange, and just when she thinks she's finally getting through, that's where it changes, again.
She swears uncharacteristically, through tightly gritted teeth.
The com in her ear comes to life immediately.
"Felicity? Everything alright?" Oliver asks, his voice a thick rumble that sounds about as tense as she feels right now.
"Everything's fine," Felicity is quick to reassure him, as she begins again, pursing her lips tight, frustrated with herself for the waste of time.
Oliver has been checking in with her every three minutes, jumping into her ear all growly at every minimal sound. She knows he's on edge because she's alone in the private office of an international arms dealer and frankly, Felicity is hella nervous about that too, but they had all agreed that Digg could keep her safer if he kept his distance and watched her back as a sniper, than in there with her where he could only have eyes on one exit at a time.
The sounds of fighting that filter through her com also never fail to remind her that they are short on time and on a very tight schedule here, and she is holding them back. Oliver and Roy won't be able to lead Steelgate's men on a merry chase forever.
"Their security is a bit more complex than I first anticipated," she says, the words sounding absentminded because 99% of her brainpower is focused like a laser on the program. "It uses a polymorphic engine to mutate the code. Whenever I try to gain access, it changes." She huffs out a breathy chuckle at the irony. Under less stress stressful circumstances, this would have been so much fun, damn it. "It's like solving a Rubik's cube that's fighting back[5]. Which would be awesome any other time, but right now - not so much."
"Take it easy." Oliver tells her, sounding steady and sure even through the modulator, like he's trying to calm her down, ease her into comfort. "You've got time."
"I really don't actually. They're gonna catch up with you guys eventually."
"Don't worry about that."
Felicity dismisses that with a hum. Right, like there's any chance of her not worrying when he's out dancing with bullets.
She's so close… so close to cracking this. Words and numbers flash in quick succession on the screen without any kind of order, but by now Felicity knows that any combination of them is going to contain the key of this system's encryption. She knew the moment she saw this programming that the solution here would not be hacking in, but decrypting the puzzle. With unnaturally-quick movements born of practice, Felicity connects her tablet to the mainframe and reroutes that list to her brand new decrypting program she wrote this summer. It's subtlety at its best and freaking fantastic, in Felicity's not so humble opinion. 'Don't disappoint me Grace'[6]
Her tablet beeps. She has to try three different possibilities before the correct one unlocks the system's defenses… and just like that, she's in.
"Yes!" She hisses in sharp delight, pumping her fist in the air.
The whole network that before seemed like just gibberish lines of code that kept slamming her out, now unravels for her, warm and ready as a lover. The rush of it crackles hot in her veins; an overwhelming feeling that tastes of success but packs a headier punch, because this… this is illicit, but right and purest form of creation Felicity has ever known.
God it feels good.
An adrenaline fix like no other.
"Felicity?"
She sucks in a shaky breath when she hears his voice, eyes fluttering closed for a heartbeat. Honestly, the only thing that would have made this moment better for her was hearing his voice - and there he is.
"I'm in," She says thickly, and then clears her throat. "Three minutes to clean this baby out and I'm done."
"Good," Oliver grumbles and Felicity smiles despite herself. It was just one word but she could read his relief like it was a wave that lapped warmly at her ankles.
"Perimeter still clear," Digg says calmly. And then, in a tone that immediately makes her think of his sly smile, he adds: "Did you pump your fist in the air? It sounded like you pumped your fist in the air."
Felicity rolls her eyes. "I did not sound like I pumped my fist in the air, Digg – you can see me."
"I can't," Sara interjects sounding a little out of breath but otherwise fine. "And I heard it too."
"Yup," Roy adds around what Felicity bets is a smirk.
The part of Felicity's brain that is not currently engaged in skimming the data she is acquiring from Steelgate's main servers, feels actually quite affronted that they all have the nerve to tease her while they're being chased by huge men with big guns. And while she can think something for Sara later, she knows just what humbling experience to put Roy through. One of those ridiculous duck-face picture from that one vodka-night is going to find its way in his twitter account one of these days.
Just you wait, Red Riding Hood. Just you wa…
Felicity's breath stops, eyes widening.
"Oh…"
"What?" Oliver barks in her ear, jumpy as ever.
"Oh, wow. We have so hit the jackpot with this one, guys," Felicity breathes out softly, eyeing the accumulating data. "Fake end user certificates. Cut out companies - meticulously catalogued, by the way. This guy has got to be the best organized criminal we've come across. And his shipping logs… " Felicity's eyes narrow on the list of shipments and she whistles. "Huh, there is hardly a warlord, dictator, despot anywhere in the world he is not first name basis with, apparently[7]."
"Felicity, just get out of there." Oliver says, impatience rising.
"Almost there."
And she is. Thirty more seconds and she unplugs her tablet and the USB drive, stuffs them both in her small wraparound bag and scrams, running through the empty administrative floor as quietly as she can. Once she gets to the exit ramp, Felicity checks the status of her team's movements before she puts her phone in her pocket and waits, heart pounding in her ears.
"East side's clear," Digg informs her and it's then – and only then –that Felicity open the door and starts bolting down the emergency stairwell. She tries to keep her breathing steady, gulping down air at precise intervals, through her nose and out of her mouth, just like Digg taught her.
"You're doing good Felicity," Digg assures her and it's so familiar she just has to smile. "Oliver's two seconds outside your location."
"Copy that." Felicity gasps. "Or is it roger? I never know the difference.[8]"
She gets no answer to that and if her lungs and thigh muscles hadn't been burning with the effort of climbing down 22 flights of stairs, Felicity would have protested. She gets to the exit door that will lead her into the back alley and opens it carefully, after she has taken three full breaths to calm down. They doesn't work – she's still edgy as hell, but Digg's 'three full breaths before you do anything stupid' is a golden rule Felicity lives by.
Just as she's peeking around the door, a black, nondescript SUV screeches to a stop in the alley. For a moment Felicity's afraid, because Oliver left the Lair tonight in his bike, not a car, and she's just about to turn the frack around and run the hell out of there when the passenger door bursts open to show her Oliver, in full Arrow gear, behind the wheel.
Felicity jumps in, straps the seatbelt on as Oliver flies the car out into the night again.
"What happened to the bike?" She asks breathlessly, turning to look at him as heart tries to find it's normal pace again and fails. "You didn't say anything about leaving it behind."
"We had some… unforeseen difficulties," Oliver answers through gritting teeth. She means to say something – trying to decide between asking him why he didn't tell her about these 'unforeseen difficulties' before and asking him why he's driving like he's the reincarnation of an eastern European cab driver. She's decided to lead with the first one when Oliver reeves harshly to the left and her breath is cut by how hard the seatbelt digs at her chest.
"Hold on!" he says through tightly gritted teeth.
"Could have used knowing that before." Felicity mutters as she rubs her shoulder. "Are we being chased?"
An array of bullets as they cut another corner answers that for her. She could almost roll her eyes, if she were that type of person, which she's not.
"Right. Of course we're being chased. I bet they're Russian and have like, huge guns or something. Do they have huge guns? Those felt like bullets from really…"
"Felicity!"
"Sorry, sorry. It's the nerves, I think. And the bullets. Not a fan of those," She says as she grips the seat tighter.
Oliver huffs. "Yeah, me either."
Felicity chances a look his way. His lips are curling upward at the corner the way they do when he finds something funny but doesn't really want to smile. But he is smiling. Kinda. Still, Felicity will take what she can get. Even a 'kinda' smile is not an easy achievement when he's under that hood.
They cut another hard corner and something else besides speed makes Felicity's stomach drop this time.
"Was it me? Did I take too long?" she asks, heart in her throat. If they're being shot at right now because she wasn't good enough…
"No," Oliver says immediately. Like there is no possible way the answer to that could be different. "They spotted us and I had to distract them."
Felicity nods. When it's about their Arrow work, but especially when they're like this, in the field, they have to trust each other 110%. Oliver wouldn't try to soften anything for her out here, he knows her better than that. Knows how she works better than that. And honestly, Felicity is not afraid, not really. But she doesn't like high-speed chases either. They tend to take her into that particular moment when she'd last been in one, when the van had flipped over and for a split second she really thought that was it.
Oliver glances back at her quickly. His hands tighten on the steering wheel.
"It's ok. Digg, Sara and Roy are behind them," he tells her then, his voice sounding just a little bit gentler, curtness of his 'Arrow' voice momentarily set aside. "As soon as we pass the tunnel on the 23rd, we'll set off the charges and trap them in."
Felicity nods again. Looks around. Notices the disarray of wires spilling into Oliver's lap from the dashboard like little colorful snakes.
Ugh, so sloppy.
"Where did you learn how to hotwire a car anyway?" she asks offhandedly, not really expecting an answer. It's one of those questions that flies out of her mouth when she's jittery and needs a distraction.
"Summer 2005," Oliver deadpans, his tone as normal as if they were in the lair, counting ammunition.
They make a sharp turn to the left and she feels her shoulder pull for how hard she's holding on to the door's handle. Still, if she hadn't, the seatbelt digging into her skin would probably have hurt worse.
"Tommy and I got into some trouble for… borrowing a Shelby GT500," Oliver explains.
Felicity smiles as Digg and Roy snort over the coms. Despite the high speed chase and bullets, they're still on the line. It's a calming thought.
"Borrowing?" Her question is colored by the laughter she's suppressing.
"There might have been a bit of confusion on that," Oliver answers her and to anyone else his tone would have sounded flat but Felicity doesn't have to look at him to know he's smiling.
"I bet there was."
"Hard left," Oliver warns.
Felicity braces and squeals when they turn, because she ends up getting flattened against the door. The door's handle digs in her arm uncomfortably and she is really thinking twice about the sandwich she had earlier but for some reason the whole thing just makes her laugh. From the corner of her eyes she sees Oliver give her a fleeting look.
"You ok?"
He sounds worried.
"Fine, fine," Felicity says, trying to calm down and wishing her voice didn't sound so squeaky. She really needs to find her chill in these situations. One would think she would be a pro at them by now, but she always ends up doing things like laughing about things only she finds funny, or babbling to infinity. Maybe it's a coping mechanism.
"There aren't any grand theft auto charges on your record." Felicity points out then. "Not on Tommy's either."
The fact that he doesn't ask how she knows that is either proof that he knows her too well, or that he's simply resigned to fact that she is professionally nosy.
"Yeah. You don't get those when Moira Queen and Malcolm Merlyn are your parents, " Oliver says, voice carelly flat.
Felicity shrugs. "Huh. Makes sense."
Her coms crack with static and Digg's loud warning.
"Incoming!"
A sharp inhale is all Felicity has time for before the 'incoming' gets there. There's a mighty explosion and her world tilts out sharply from beneath her feet.
There is a moment in which everything blacks out but it passes in a blink. Felicity opens her eyes feeling as if she just closed them, breathing harshly, but relaxing the moment she feels nothing is hurting particularly excruciatingly. Through the tiny bells ringing in her ears she reaches out for Oliver, just as she hears his voice calling her name.
"Felicity! Look at me."
She blinks some more, tells him she's fine as she straightens, feels the hold on her arm, his gloved hand on her face.
She turns to face him.
"I'm ok," Felicity repeats, firmer this time. "I am."
Oliver stays still, eyes unblinking on her for a couple of moments, and then nods stiffly, as if against his will. Felicity can't see clearly through the darkness the hood casts around his face, but she sees the tense line of his jaw - there is a jumpy muscle there doing that twitchy thing that always means he's scowling something fierce.
"Stay in the car," he orders – because there is no mistaking that tone - as he gets out so quickly one would never know they had another car crash into them at 80 miles an hour. She hears the distinct sound of bullets from outside and coils even more tightly into herself, trying to keep her body low so that any stray shots didn't get to her. She can hear the more familiar mix of grunts and hits from the com link in her ear as well and really, it would be an extraordinary day when one of their plans goes off without a hitch the way it had been meant to.
She flinches away bodily when her brain shoves against her frontal lobe the memory of the last time that had happened and how she'd ended with the cold press of a steel against her throat.
God, even her own cortex is against her right now!
"No good deed goes unpunished" Felicity mumbles through gritted teeth as she reaches inside her jacket for the small automatic weapon Lyla gave her and switches off the safety.
She's been practicing with this thing for two months and she still doesn't like the cold heavy feel of it in her palm.
'Aim with both hands and both eyes. Try not to close them when you shoot.'
Easy. As. Pie.
That's a strange expression though. Personally, Felicity has never made pie after that one time when she almost burned the kitchen down. She sticks to more basic things - like ordering out, so that metaphor might not be as appropriate in her case. Or maybe it is.
Let's not.
With her other hand she uses the apps on her phone to hack into the traffic cameras of the area and black them out, on the off chance that they might catch Digg's face.
They are going to have a serious discussion about identity concealment once they're out of here!
Felicity chances a glance out of the window and sees that Oliver has planted himself like a live shield in front of the car's passenger door. She feels like smacking him, but she knows she doesn't have to: he's far from stupid, as it turns out, one of the perks of a long Ford slamming into the rear of their SUV is that apparently the carnage of the other car is good for cover, as well as kamikaze attacks.
Small things to be grateful for.
Oliver knocks an arrow and Felicity braces for the explosion that happens about half a second after. She still flinches though, because it sounds so much closer than she thought it would.
Digg's voice in her ear makes Felicity jump just a little bit.
"I got eyes on the RPGs."
"Perimeter secure," Roy adds and then snickers, if a bit breathlessly. "Oh yeah, the Canary is handling the strays."
Felicity takes a deep breath, listens carefully. There are no more sounds coming from outside other than her team's shuffling and her own heavy breathing.
"Felicity?"
It's all he says really, just her name.
She knows what he means.
"Still here. My legs are getting cramped. Aren't SUVs supposed to have more space?"
Before she can even reach for the handle, the door is wrenched open and Oliver is there, reaching for her as he hands his bow to John. Felicity leans forward and then gets stuck in place, totally forgetting that she's strapped in place. She turns with an annoyed huff, meaning to undo the seatbelt, but before she even reaches for it, Oliver is there, leaning in to undo it for her.
And Felicity is left holding her breath, blinking hard against the sight of the column of his throat so close to her face that she could literally just lean over a fraction and she could lick it.
…and wow brain, slow down!
But it doesn't really. Nothing ever slows down.
Things just get a bit quieter every once in awhile. Moments when breath gets heavy and a look weighs as much as a touch; moments of edges fading into each other softly, when it's not very clear if it's him that is so close or her that leans in to breathe him closer. Or if they're both moving and the world tilts just a little bit to the side every time.
Every time.
She used to hate walking like that, a little one the side, leaning on the wind.
Now she takes a deep breath when he leans close (sweat and leather and soap, she knows them all so well) and it make her feel safe.
A small uncontrollable giggle escapes makes it past her lips at the thought and she's rewarded with Oliver's alarmed eyes on her, taking in every inch of her face.
"It's ok. I'm ok," Felicity says immediately, a calming hand landing on the inside of his elbow, as she swings her legs to the side.
And the world rushes back in, just as her ears stop ringing.
She can tell Oliver's eyes narrow somewhere along the area of her forehead where there is probably a handsome bruise already blooming up. He wraps the arm she was using as leverage all the way around her waist and lifts her off the SUV. Yup, much better than having to wobble out, Felicity decides once her feet hit the concrete.
"You're bleeding," he says through tight lips just as his hand moves from her waist to her face, cupping her cheek and turning it to the light so he can see the damage better. The momentum of the other car hitting them had sent her head slamming against the window, and his arm reaching out to steady her hand done much to stop that.
"I am?" Felicity sounds surprised and that is not a good thing.
When she reaches her hand up to touch the wound, as if to prove herself it's there, Oliver wraps his hand around hers, to stop her.
"Don't. We'll clean you up once we're back in the Foundry."
"Huh, I didn't think I'd hit my head that hard. It just feels itchy." She contemplates just as tilts her head to see him better under that Hood cause from where he's standing, he looks like he's grinding his teeth and if the does that any harder his molars will probably just snap right of.
"What's wrong?" Felicity asks, looking around to Digg and Roy.
The sound that comes out of Oliver's mouth is probably as close to a growl a human could get. "Nothing."
That most definitely does not sound like a nothing, but instead of pointing that out Felicity gives him one of the 'really' looks over the rim of her grasses – one that Oliver ignores in favor of edging her forward with one hand at the small of her back.
"Are we done here?" Felicity asks looking around at the carnage of three half-totaled cars, a couple of overturned bikes and more men laying around in various states of knocked out.
"All cleaned out," Sara says, approaching them with the slow, deliberate pace of someone taking in everything about their surrounding environment. Felicity feels her face split into a smile. She reaches over for a hug almost as soon as Sara is within range and feels Sara's quiet laugh as they hold on to each other for a short moment.
"Hi," Sara says with a wide smile.
"Hi," Felicity smiles back. "How was your vacation?"
The Canary smiles this time is lopsided and full of teeth. "Hot."
"Let's move out," Digg says as he falls in on Felicity's other side. "SCPD will be here any minute."
Oliver reaches for Felicity again, and he and Sara fall in at her sides, Roy watching their six as Digg leads the way, moving through the wreckage towards their van, which Digg had 'parked' askew on the sidewalk. Felicity sighs as she looks at the tiny holes it's been once again riddled with. One of these night, they will go out in the field and when they come back, Betsy won't need plastic surgery… but tonight is not that night apparently.
"Did you get what we needed?" Roy asks as he looks around, making Felicity turn to give him an insulted look, complete with scrunched up nose and narrowed eyes as she sits herself down.
"Who do you think you're talking to?" she mumbles with just enough outrage in her whisper to make him roll his eyes.
Digg snorts as he gets into the driver's seat and Oliver ushers Felicity in gently and quickly climbs in after her, a hand on her back as if he expects her to kiss the pavement at any moment. As soon as he gets hold of the medical kit, he's flashing a tiny light in front of her eyes, and Felicity instinctively flinches.
"Ow." She complains, rubbing her knuckles against the rapidly watering eye and looking at him a bit betrayed. The complaint is more because he surprised her than anything, to be honest, but Felicity admits that she is pouting a little bit.
What she doesn't expect is the startled look on his face.
"I'm sorry."
The words fly out of his mouth so fast that he seems to catch up with them about at the same time she does.
Felicity sobers up instantly.
"It's fine," she says softly. "It didn't hurt. I was just surprised."
It doesn't fade the regret from his eyes however. He keeps looking at her like he just tore her arm open of something. "I should have warned you. I need to check your pupils."
Felicity sighs but takes off her glasses anyway and keeps still, following the light when he tells her to.
"I'm not concussed," she drawls, feeling as if she's just pointing out the obvious. Which she is.
"You don't know that," Oliver tells her calmly.
"I do actually. The fact that my dinner is where it belongs is a dead giveaway. Now that I think about it, I'm… hungry?" Felicity turns her eyes from Oliver to Sara, who is shaking her wig loose as she watches them. "What do you say to a late dinner with the team, Sara?"
The sharp awareness on Sara's face softens at the invite, that one blink wiping out the look from her eyes. But she shakes her head, biting her lip in honest regret.
"I can't. I'm already super late for meeting up with Laurel – she's gonna bite my head off and have that for dinner instead."
Though Sara doesn't sound one bit bothered by the idea, on the contrary. The excitement in her voice speaks of clear anticipation and it softens Felicity right up. She never had a sister but she can understand missing family.
"But I'll swing by tomorrow, definitely," Sara adds with a wink. "Still keep the mint chip in the freezer?"
Felicity laughs. "Always. Keep a change of clothes for you in the back, too."
Sara stills at those words, smile falling slightly as she takes them in and Oliver knows what she's thinking. She takes a deep breath in silence and then nods, and this time her lips curve upwards just a tiny bit, in a rare, almost shy smile that reads of pure gratitude.
Felicity acknowledges the moment with a nod and then lets it go as if it were no big deal, even though Sara's shiny eyes are staring back at her. But Felicity seems to always know how to handle these moments - or maybe she just inherently does the right thing, because she sees them as people and nothing less than that. Oliver feels a surge of affection for her unfurl from somewhere beneath his sternum, warming him up all the way to the tips of his toes. His girl is one of a kind, he thinks as he watches her purse her lips and narrow her eyes, trying to pinpoint exactly what she's craving for a midnight snack on Thursday night. And it's moments like these that remind Oliver how lucky he is to be allowed in her life. How irreplaceable she has become in his.
"Kinda in the mood for Chinese now," she finally says. "That place you like Oliver, what's it called?"
She nudges her foot against his boot as she asks, face livening up with an expectant smile.
Oliver knows what nerves look on her; the way hysteria adds a sharp edge to her smile and empties her eyes of it. This is neither. She's just hungry, apparently.
A breathy chuckle escapes his lips as he picks himself up from the floor of the van and sits next to her. "Let's get you patched up first. Then we'll think about takeout."
Felicity chews on her fried rice slowly as she leans her hip against the table and studies a 'family tree' more complicated than any they've ever had to build so far: Steelgate Group. The list includes dozens of companies in cities worldwide, but they'd already known that. The surprise is how much of it is rooted in the underground. And how far out the net goes.
When Oliver comes to stand right next to her, arms crossed and shoulders heavy, Felicity turns to look at him.
"So, where does this take us, exactly?" he asks, turning to look at her.
Felicity takes another spoonful of fried rice before answering, taking the time to look over their evidence again.
"Lots of places. Mostly it depends on who we share this with."
And she's thinking Laurel will have to go nationwide with this, because Starling D.A. simply won't have the power to pursue something this big.
One thing at a time, for now.
"Steelgate may have gotten away tonight, but we got what we needed, too," Felicity begins, turning their attention to the screen. "I've got access to his computer and his accountants and lawyers. And, as I always say, computers keep no secrets. So… Steelgate's American assets are genuine, but – color me very much not surprised here - they're the only things that are. The rest is funneled through companies in Gibraltar, Colombia, and Macao."
She picks up one of the plastic containers on the table as she talks – the Korean stuff with the raw egg on top Oliver loves so much - and hands it to him. They're way past the time when he used to argue with her about food, so Oliver simply limits himself to picking up his chopsticks.
Digg and Roy join them too, right about then.
"Now, these companies produce no products and provide no services. They're shells. They launder money from drugs and especially arms sales, as well as crime syndicates in Russia," Felicity knows, just from the air shifts in the room, that Digg is giving Oliver some serious side eye there. She feels the cold of Moscow run down her spine but doesn't turn and doesn't stop talking. "And that money – which accounts for all but 5-percent of Steelgate's holdings - ends up in accounts in the Cayman Islands[10]."
Felicity turns on her heel, giving her back to the screens so that she can look her teammates in the face.
"It's a completely illegal criminal empire guys. And we've got dibs."
It takes a moment to let it sink in, each of them processing in their own way.
"So what happens now?" Roy asks, looking from one to the other. Digg shifts on his feet and Oliver finally looks away from their flat screen turned table of evidence.
"Now… we give the evidence to Laurel," Oliver says slowly, twirling his chopsticks between his fingers. "Internal financial reports, bank records, emails. Everything she'll need to cook him."
Felicity fidgets a bit with the fork in her hand. One look at Digg and she knows that they're thinking the same thing. Oliver probably has been thinking it from the beginning.
Maybe that's why he's had such a frown on his face.
"This is gonna have one hell of a shockwave." Digg says as he eyes the screens. "IRS can't ignore tax fraud like this. The police can't ignore the organized crime stuff. They'll both have to investigate[11]. It'll probably get the FBI involved, too."
Which means extra people being extra nosy – not the ideal situation for Team Arrow. People outside of Starling city don't really have the same tolerance for its vigilantes. People who don't live in the insular universe this city sometimes seems to be will have difficulties understanding the way it runs things. The things its people need, to feel safe.
And yes, Felicity had thought of that.
She steps closer to Oliver, reaches for him. "We'll be careful."
Oliver looks at her and there is something in his eyes, something that curves that tiny frown of his upwards just a little bit and makes her fingers tighten on his sleeve. His eyes settle on her forehead and they brighten with what seems to be almost a soft, unreachable kind of sadness. In Felicity's opinion, a tiny bump on her head wasn't worth all the trouble, but he hadn't listened to her protest. He'd sat her down and she'd been a very special kind of quiet (the loud kind, from the inside, that buzzes against her breastbone like a hummingbird's wings) as he disinfected it with gentle hands.
"How's your head?" Oliver asks in a voice so soft that barely carries beyond the both of them.
Felicity smiles. "Still attached. Which is a good thing, obviously. I like it there."
He's not in a joking mood tonight though. There's not even a hint of a smile on his face.
"It's starting to swell. You should have kept the icepack on it longer." He tells her, eyeing her forehead critically. From the corner of her eye, Felicity sees his hand move and she's left blinking fast when she feels the tips of his fingers brushing against her hairline, right at the edges of what must be a very ambitious bruise. Suddenly it's hard to swallow because her heart is fluttering its wings right in her throat and she's left incredibly aware of the space – or rather, lack of it – between them.
"It's just a bump Oliver."
… which is probably why her voice comes out so strange. Just a little breathy, just a little choked.
Or maybe it's the fact that his hand falls on her shoulder and he drags his palm down her arm, as if it could never occur to him to do anything different with it.
Digg clears his throat, the sound startling them out of their little bubble. And it would be funny, how both of them turn to look at him with equally surprised looks on their faces, as if they had forgotten all about the other people in the room. It would be funny, Digg thinks with a touch of wistfulness, if he didn't know exactly how stubborn they both could be. (there is nothing funny however, about how Oliver's hand lingers for a tiny fraction on that space where Felicity's arms was, before she took a hurried step back, untangling herself from Oliver's personal bubble)
"We'll have to get a security detail on Laurel too," Digg reminds them, as if they'd just been talking about it. "It's not likely it'll put a dent on her momentum, but this is dangerous."
His impassive face is a blessing, but Roy is far less subtle with that knowing smirk he sends their way.
"Can she use all this in a courtroom?" Oliver asks, looking at Felicity again.
"Yeah sure. She can say she has a source inside his company. Or, better yet - I'll just send her an untraceable email with all the files, that way she won't have to lie about it."
"Steelgate will run." Roy states flatly, distain coloring his voice. "There's no way a guy like that ends up in prison. They never do."
Felicity scoffs. "He'll try."
All three of them turn to look at her with different degrees of speculation on their faces. Felicity just shrugs trying to look nonchalant, but not trying that hard, honestly. She knows just by the way Oliver looks at her, with that small expectant turn of his lips that gentles the angles of his face, that she's not being particularly subtle about how satisfied she is with herself.
"He will try to run," Felicity says slowly, looking at each of them in turn. "But he won't have anywhere to run to. And he may have enough money to buy a small country right now, but… I can change that."
Oliver, Digg and Roy exchange brief looks and then they turn to her and nod almost at the same time. Felicity chucks the empty cartoon in the trash and wiggles her fingers.
Time to get to work.