Felicity:

Felicity gazed up at Oliver, Thea forgotten. She was at a loss as too how to explain her presence. She opened and closed her mouth in the hope that something adequate would come forward, but nothing. She felt like a fish out of water. Oliver continued to look at her expectantly, waiting for her answer. He had that patient, I-can-wait-all-day look on his face. He wasn't going to let her off the hook easily.

"Your not dead," she finally blurted out. "Obviously, since your still upright. I mean, I'm glad you're not dead, or decapitated or anything."

Felicity would have slapped herself in the head if it wasn't from the flowers.

Oliver eyed her oddly as he slowly made his way downstairs with the aid of a crutch. "Ah, thanks for that, I think."

She couldn't blame him for that. She sure was acting odd (more odd than usual at least).

"Is that why you're here? To make sure I'm not headless?"

Felicity had to resist the urge to start laughing hysterically. It could be her that ended up headless. Although, it would be an extremely good trick if he could decapitate a person with an arrow. Just as long as she wasn't one of the people he practised it on.

"As riveting as this is, I think I hear my homework calling me," Thea piped up, making Felicity jump. Thea was unwittingly providing her with a little more time to compose herself. Felicity took a deep breathe and straightened her glasses. "It was nice to meet you, Felicity. Merry Christmas."

"She's Jewish."

"I'm Jewish."

Oliver and Felicity spoke at the same time, making Thea roll her eyes. Felicity managed a small smile despite her nerves. He'd remembered. Granted, it had only been yesterday, but he'd had head trauma since, so it was impressive. And a little, bit flattering.

"Happy Hanukkah, then," Thea said, with a small salute. "And bro, take it easy on those ribs."

The teenager took her leave and disappeared up the stairs. Felicity had the sudden urge call her back. She might need a witness...

But then she got a good look at Oliver. He looked awful. Still hot, but awful. He was wearing a white t-shirt and black stretchy looking pants. Felicity was having second thoughts about confronting him. He must be in severe pain.

"Felicity. Felicity." Oliver waved his hand in front of her face. She became aware of the fact that she'd been standing there staring at Oliver, longer than what was considered polite.

"Yeah, right. Sorry." Felicity fell back into the present with a bang (and bright red cheeks). "Is there some where that we can talk more privately?"

She whispered the word privately, almost as if it was a dirty word. Of course her whispering had caused Oliver to lean closer, so he could hear her. She caught a whiff of his manly smell and couldn't help but inhale more deeply.

Crap cakes!

Felicity dearly hoped Oliver hadn't noticed that.

She wasn't certain if the amused smile was as a result of the privacy thing or the smelling (oh please don't let it be because of the smelling).

"That sounds ominous," Oliver said, smirking. He lead her into a sitting room off the side of the foyer. He took seat on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table. Felicity remained standing. "I hope you don't mind, but it's a real bitch to remain standing to long at the moment."

Oliver smirked again. Here sat the charming, untouchable, playboy Oliver Queen. This was the man who didn't give a rats ass about anything outside of his bubble. She had to admit he was a fantastic actor.

"That's fine. You sit. Actually I think it's better that you're sitting." Felicity began pacing, twisting the flowers in her hand. "What I'm about to say might come as a shock to you. Although not a shock in the sense that you'll be shocked by who I think you are, because you know who you are. But the shock is that I've kind of, sort of, figured out who you are..."

"Felicity."

"...And you should really be more careful. What if I was a bad guy? Person. What if I was a bad person? Because I'm not a guy. Or a bad person for that matter. But what if I was? A bad person that is..."

"Felicity."

"...I could use it against you, but I won't. It's all so crazy, you know? Well, of course you know, its your life. You go around shooting arrows and being all hooded..."

"Felicity!" Oliver was suddenly in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. He was shaking her gently trying to stop her babbling (President Kennedy was the fastest random speaker in the world with upwards of 350 words per minute - imagine babbling that many words a minute).

"Please don't shoot me with an arrow." Felicity stared up at Oliver (again) with big eyes that even her glasses couldn't hide. As scared as she was, she couldn't help but notice Oliver's own rest of baby blues. Up this close, they were hypnotizing. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

Oliver was pulling his patient, watchful face again. It was making Felicity squirm and uncomfortable. What did Felicity do when she was uncomfortable? That's right she started talking.

"I'm good at keeping secrets. Nobody figured out it was me who crashed the internet for a four block radius. I was trying out a new code, but I was only twelve at the time so it wasn't my best work..."

Felicity trailed off, realising she'd just told him her secret, which defeated the purpose of the story in the first place. She wasn't done talking though.

"Except now I've told you. You could use it for leverage. Of course it wouldn't send me to jail or anything, but you know it would be heavily frowned upon."

"Felicity, stop talking," Oliver finally commanded, having realised that she wasn't going to stop on her own.

"Ok," she agreed (she really did want to stop talking - and apparently o.k. stands for oll korrect, in the late 1830's and 1840's, the abbreviation fad began with many of the abbreviated expressions being exaggerated misspellings).

"I'm not surprised you figured it out," Oliver revealed. "What does surprise me is that it took you so long to do so."