AN: On the home straight now people. Just two more chapters left after this!

Thanks for all your feedback, it's lovely to hear your opinions. I hope you enjoy this instalment and… there's things I want to say but I'll spoil things so… Enjoy!

Chapter Six

Felicity had worked her magic and now had a list of names to match most of the account numbers. Assuming the initials were genuine, it had allowed her to rule out accounts with the same visible digits but the wrong initials, although a handful of the accounts had two possibilities.

She printed out a few copies and called Bruce to tell him.

Since she and Oliver couldn't just leave the office unmanned, they were at the QC building, which also allowed Bruce to visit without arousing suspicion.

So far, Felicity had managed to dodge not only her mother but also the press, and to an awkward girl like Felicity, the idea of becoming fodder for the press was a fairly traumatic idea.

Bruce arrived with Diggle, who had agreed to let Bruce in on his role helping the Arrow. He had reasoned that someone with the skills of the Arrow didn't need a bodyguard and that Bruce would likely figure that out for himself soon enough.

Felicity got up and greeted Bruce with a kiss, then they headed into Oliver's office, sitting on the leather couches to talk. She handed all the men a copy of the printout and brought her list up on her tablet.

"I have searches running for all these names, although there are so many that even if we find something relevant, it will probably be overlooked, buried in all that data."

Why not cross reference this list with my father's list," Oliver suggested. "If there's any overlap, we'll know those people are corrupt and can focus on them."

"That's a good idea," she smiled at him.

"I know this name," Diggle spoke up. "Wilson Scott is running for office, as Mayor of Coast City."

"And Alice Crookshank is a business woman," Bruce added. "As is John Jacobson."

"On page two, William Smith could be Willie Smith, the casino owner," Diggle added.

Felicity entered the details into her tablet as they spoke.

"Edward Fyers." Oliver said, and the ice in his tone made them all stand up and take notice.

"Who's Edward Fyers?" Felicity asked.

"My first year on the island, he was running the operation to bring down the planes and destabilise the Chinese economy." Oliver got up to leave and no one tried to stop him.

When Bruce sat forward, Felicity stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Leave him."

Bruce looked from Felicity to Diggle and back, but he didn't understand the anguish and worry he saw in their eyes.

"What am I missing?"

"Contrary to popular belief, Oliver wasn't alone on the island," Felicity explained. "There was a group of mercenaries there, with a plan to crash aeroplanes heading to and from China, thereby destabilising the Chinese economy with what would looked like a terrorist attack. By knowing where and when, they stood to cash in on the tragedy and make a fortune. Like insider trading, only much worse."

"That doesn't explain why Oliver looked as if he has seen a ghost."

"Because they tortured him."

She didn't imagine the pain she saw in Bruce's eyes. If the scars on his body weren't enough of a clue that he had endured a lot, the compassion she saw in his eyes was proof enough.

"They obviously weren't successful in their plan," Bruce noted. "Was that because Oliver…?"

"Yeah."

"If Isabel is the head of this organisation, and they obviously have ties to Fyers, that might explain why the attempted hostile takeover of QC was so hostile." Diggle noted. "Isabel knows that it was Oliver who thwarted her plan on this island, and she's out for revenge."

Felicity nodded. "Maybe but even if she is, Oliver didn't let her get away with bombing the plane and we didn't let her takeover QC. We won't let her get away with what she has planned now either."

"Amen to that," Diggle agreed.

"Where is this Fyers now?" Bruce asked.

"Dead," Diggle answered. "Oliver sacrificed a way off the island to save a friend Fyers was holding hostage."

"Well, I can't hold that against him, I suppose." Bruce may not agree with killing but he knew that sometimes, it was the only way. He'd been lucky that so far, he hadn't needed to kill but he knew that one day, it might be the only way to save innocent lives and on that day, he prayed that had the courage, not so much to take a life, but to live with that choice afterwards. "So what now?"

"We carry on. He'll be back," Diggle assured Bruce.

Oliver felt physically sick.

Isabel.

Isabel was the reason he'd been tortured. Isabel was the reason he became a killer.

Unbeknownst to him, she had been pulling strings in his life since he'd arrived on the island. If, as they suspected, she'd been working with Malcolm Merlyn, possibly for longer, she may even be the reason the boat was sabotaged.

He kept a motorcycle in the garage at the office, since sometimes it wouldn't be convenient to have Diggle drive him, and he hopped on it now, intent on finding answers.

He hadn't known where he was going until he got there, his mind was a whirlwind and he couldn't focus on one thought but as he stopped outside the Queen Mansion, he knew why he'd come here. Only one person seemed to know Isabel's villainous ways, the one person who had warned him not to trust her; his mother. One way or another, he intended to get the answers he needed.

As usual, the door wasn't locked and he stormed inside.

"Mom! Mom!"

Raisa got to him first and as soon as she saw his expression, she looked concerned.

"Mr Oliver, what's wrong? You do not look good."

"Where is my mother?" he asked.

"I'm right here."

He turned to see her approaching from the direction of the study and without thought, grabbed her elbow and half dragged her back down the hallway. She protested but Oliver wasn't listening.

Once in the room that had been like a second home to his father, he released her and closed the study door.

"What's going on?" she demanded, rubbing her arm where he had gripped her.

"I need answers," he didn't even sound like himself but he was too far gone to stop now.

"About what?"

"Isabel Rochev." He spat each syllable as if it was a curse.

"What about her?"

"I want the truth. I know you know her, I know you hate her, and I need to know why."

"But Oliver-"

"Did you know I was tortured on the island, Mom? Did you know that the men who did it worked for her? The things they did to me…"

Moira paled as he spoke and he believed that she genuinely hadn't known.

"Oh, Oliver… Why didn't you tell me?" The tears shining in her eyes seemed real enough.

"Because I didn't want to burden you. I thought you loved me, and I didn't want you to have to live what I endured."

"I do love you," she assured him.

"Then prove it. Tell me everything you know about her." He couldn't bring himself to repeat her name.

Moira nodded. "Sit down, I'm going to need a drink."

He sat in one of the wing backed armchairs by the unlit fire, and watched as she went to the bar and poured herself three fingers of scotch into a crystal tumbler. It was something he had seen his father do hundreds of times, and the pain of his loss cut through him once more, making him gasp.

Moira poured a second glass and came to sit in the other chair, putting his glass on the small side table between them, and taking a long gulp from her own glass.

Oliver ignored the drink. At one time he would have downed it, trying to dull the pain he felt but not now. Not matter how tempting that idea was, he needed his wits about him.

"Talk," he ordered.

Moira glanced at him, then stared into the contents of her glass.

"Isabel Rochev is a lie," she began. "She began her life as Lyuda Dribbin, and lived in a small village in Siberia. She wasn't a member of the Dribbin family but had been adopted by them, given to them by her parents to pay off a debt. In reality, she was little more than a slave. The family made her learn English, and she acted as translator while Robert tried to strike a deal.

"As you know, your father had a penchant for waifs and strays, and he took a shine to her; she was 17 and had that fragile beauty so many men seem to love. Eventually Robert arranged to buy her from the family, intending to bring her to the Unites States, where she could be properly educated and make something of herself.

"I don't know when they started sleeping together, but I suspect it was right from the beginning."

"Mom?"

She glanced at him, her look pleading for him not to ask any questions until she had finished.

"Unfortunately, Robert didn't account for the damage that such a life can wreak on the mind. Not long after they got back, she became demanding. We had found her a place at a boarding school where she could finish her education but something was always wrong, she needed him because she was sick, because she was being bullied.

"He even tried to get me to accept her into our home but I wouldn't, not with you and Thea here. She seemed determined to take him from us but she had underestimated her worth to him, and the importance he placed on his family. After almost two years, he gave her fifty thousand dollars, then he cut all contact, ignored her letters and got a restraining order against her. She was arrested a few times, she sent some truly frightening letters, threatening to kill you me and Thea, if that was what it took, and then one day, it all went quiet. I dared to hope that she had grown up, moved on.

"Robert checked and discovered that she was in school, using his money to pay for her tuition. He kept covert tabs on her for the next few years and she seemed to be doing well for herself. She changed her name but that didn't worry Robert, he said she probably wanted to cast aside the last ties she had to the Dribbins and when the queen's gambit went down, I thought that was the last I'd ever hear of her."

Even though he wasn't sure who he was angry at, Oliver was seething, and his hands curled into fists.

"You should have told me," he said, his voice quavering with repressed emotion.

"I had no reason to suspect she'd try to re-enter out lives-"

"But when she did, you should have told me. I might have-"

'Might have what?' he wondered. 'Kept it in my pants? Not have slept with my father's mistress?'

"She was on the list," Oliver managed to grind out. "Why?"

"What list?"

"Stop lying!" he yelled, getting to his feet and hurling his tumbler of scotch against the wall, where it smashed into a million pieces. "Dad's list, the list of everyone who failed our city, the list that got Walter kidnapped, that list!"

As he stood over her, Oliver hated himself for the fear he saw in her eyes, a fear that he was responsible for. Somehow he managed to back away, but his gaze never wavered.

"I- I said she did well for herself, but her methods were… questionable." Moira took a long sip of her scotch, her hand shaking. "Malcolm… Malcolm needed someone to acquire the land he needed in the Glades and in return, he helped her get promoted through the ranks of Stellmoor, far ahead of her time. When we found out, Robert warned him not to deal with her, but he wouldn't listen."

"Is that all it was?" he asked.

"As far as I know. After the Gambit…" She took another drunk. "I suspected Malcolm was responsible and I withdrew from him, as much as I could."

"Is there anything you're not telling me?"

"Nothing, I swear, I've told you everything I know."

Oliver gave a curt nod and strode from the room. Raisa, who had been pacing in the hall, had to scoot out of his way and hurried into the study as soon as he had passed. Her wide eyed look of fear broke his heart and he wanted to stop, go back, tell her that this wasn't really him, that his anger was justified, but it wasn't, not really, because the person he was most angry with, was himself.

Felicity, Diggle and Bruce had moved into the conference room, where they had space to spread their documents out. Sara had joined them, pitching in, as had Roy, although he seemed to prefer making coffee and doing food runs, to researching.

Bruce left the room a time to two, to take calls from Alfred, Felicity assumed, and everyone tried to work as a team without giving away information that they shouldn't, such as that Bruce was more than just a boyfriend, that Sara was more than a friend and that Roy was more than just a street kid.

By seven that evening, they were all growing weary. Felicity and Diggle were also getting worried about Oliver. Both had tried calling him but he wasn't answering.

An hour later, they decided to call it a night, and Bruce asked Felicity if she wanted to join him for dinner at his hotel. As tempting as the idea was (no preparation or clean up) she was worried about Oliver and begged off, claiming she was tired.

It wasn't a lie, exactly, she was tired, and as soon as she knew Oliver was okay, she was going home to a long bath, a pizza, a cheap romance book (or maybe a few episodes of Downton Abbey) and an early night. Juggling two super-heroes turned out to be hard work, and she had been burning the candle at both ends for a few days now.

Bruce kissed her goodbye and Felicity headed back to her computer to ping Oliver's phone.

"Anything?" Diggle asked as he came through, after checking that nothing incriminating had been left where anyone could find it.

"No, he must have turned his phone off."

"Maybe he wants to be left alone," Diggle said kindly.

"What he wants and what's good for him are two very different things," she said. "And have you forgotten that the last time he needed to be alone? He took off back to Lian Yu."

"He was grieving then, he isn't now. Besides, Oliver isn't your responsibility; go home, get some rest."

Felicity sighed. "All right, fine, but we we haven't heard from him by tomorrow morning, I am officially allowed to panic, okay?"

"Okay," Diggle agreed with a smiled.

They headed down to the underground garage together and Felicity took her time getting in her car, pretending she couldn't find her keys then changing the radio station. As soon as Diggle left, she buckled up and headed to the lair. She wouldn't spend all night hunting Oliver, just try the places he was most likely to be. If he wasn't at the lair or his new apartment, she would go home and at least pretend to try and sleep.

The lights in the basement of Verdant were off but that didn't mean he wasn't here. She turned the power on and saw Oliver sitting with his back to the wall, in almost exactly the same position as he'd been when he discovered his mother's involvement with Walter's kidnapping.

"Oliver?"

Hesitantly, she stepped closer, she wasn't afraid of him, just unsure of what condition she would find him in.

He didn't acknowledge her at all, although she called his name twice more. She sat down on the floor in front of him and finally got a good look at him. His knees were drawn up, his hands resting on them and his eyes focused on his hands.

He was shirtless, and sweaty, meaning that he had probably been working out like a demon, and his eyes were red from crying. He looked exhausted.

He still didn't acknowledge her, so she reached out and placed her hand over one of his.

"Oliver?"

He didn't look at her.

"I thought I'd changed," he said, his voice sounding raw. "I know the island didn't change me for the better, but I used to be awful, thoughtless and selfish, hedonistic, and I had a talent for screwing up. I really thought that I was over that."

"What happened?" she asked.

Tears welled in his eyes again and more than everything, she wished she could take his pain away.

He barked out a sardonic laugh. "What happened? I happened. I-" His words were cut off by a sob.

Felicity scooted closer, ignoring the chill from the concrete floor, and took one of his hands in both of hers.

"Please, Oliver, you're scaring me."

"I slept with Isabel."

"I know."

"No, you don't. Isabel isn't just an enemy, she… she was my father's mistress."

Felicity flinched at that.

"She was being held by a Russian family and treated as a slave. She was only a girl, barely legal, impressionable. He already had a wife and two children who adored him, and he was old enough to be her father. I'm going the same way."

"No, you're not, Oliver

"Yes, I am. Isabel, Laurel, Sara. My feelings for Laurel were the reason Helena turned away from me, if I had committed, I could have saved her."

"So you make bad choices in relationships, that doesn't make you a bad person."

"How can you say that, when you know that finding out who her real father is, will destroy my sister?"

"That wasn't your mistake"

"Wasn't it? What if my kid is out there somewhere? It's not like I had any morals, married women were fair game too, and I was often too drunk to remember if I used protection."

"Oliver, just because you do or did a bad thing, or things, doesn't mean that they have to define you. Only you get to choose who you want to be."

"I want to be someone else," he said.

"Bob Saget?"

"What?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, "It was the first name that popped into my head."

He actually smiled at that, or at least, the edge of his lips twisted upwards marginally.

"Anyway, my point is, you're a pretty amazing guy, Oliver, and I don't want you to change too much."

Oliver dropped his head a fraction lower but Felicity let go of his hand and caught his face, forcing it upwards.

"Look at me." She commanded.

He didn't.

"Look. At. Me."

Slowly and hesitantly, he raised his gaze, but not his head.

"I believe in you, Oliver. Believe me, I know you aren't perfect, and I. Don't. Care. I believe in you, I believe in what we do down here. I believe we're making a real difference in this world, that we're changing lives, saving lives."

"I just screw things up, even when I don't mean to," he answered, lowering his gaze. "I saved Malcolm Merlyn. If I had let him die, there wouldn't have been an earthquake machine."

Felicity took her hands from his face since it wasn't working, and he lowered his head.

"You once told me that the problem with what we do, is that sometimes we lose, and you were right. We just have to remember that our failure to stop them, doesn't mean that we're to blame."

"I think the problem with what we do, is me."

"No, Oliver. Those people died and that was a tragedy, but they died because a megalomaniacal mad man- wow, try saying that three times quickly." She shook her head, as if shaking the irrational thoughts out of it. "What was I saying? Right, they died because a megalomaniacal mad man chose to take his rage out on the city, not because of you. And as for Isabel, you didn't know about your father's involvement with her, you couldn't know, so that's all on her for not being honest, not you. Look at me."

Very slowly, his raised his head.

"You're my hero." She told him with sincerity.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips.

"Now, stop wallowing in guilt, get your ass up off the floor, and let's go get this bitch."

"You missed your calling," he told her. "You should have been a motivational speaker."

She smiled, things couldn't be too bad if Oliver was cracking jokes, even if they weren't great jokes.

"My computers would miss me too much," she teased. She got to her feet and offered him her hand, which he used to pull himself up.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"First, we're going to get you a shower, then we're going to watch some bad TV, then we're going to sleep."

"I don't want to go back to my apartment."

"Fine, then come to mine."

"Three's a crowd," he argued.

"Bruce isn't there tonight."

"I don't want to cause trouble for you guys, are you sure he won't mind?"

"He better not," she said seriously. No one was going to tell her how to behave.

While Oliver took a shower, Felicity ordered pizza, then texted Bruce.

'In the interests of full disclosure, Oliver is staying with me tonight. He's in a bad way and needs a friend. F xx'

Despite not letting someone dictate her behaviour, she was really hoping that Bruce was the sort of man who could trust her. She busied herself making coffee while she waited for his reply and thankfully it didn't take too long before her phone beeped.

'Is there anything I can do help?'

She let out a breath she didn't know she's been holding, and smiled as she answered him.

'I've got this, but thanks. F xxx'

'Three kisses? You must really like me right now. You sure I can't join your sleepover?'

'I'm sure, but maybe we can have our own sleepover again soon?'

'Just say the word. Take care xx'

After a long, hot shower, Oliver looked much better when he emerged. He'd brought a change of clothes from the Arrow cave, so he emerged in a t-shirt and cargo pants.

"Hey," Felicity smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

That wasn't saying an awful lot.

"Come and sit down, the pizza's on its way."

He took the seat next to her on the sofa.

"Thank you, for coming after me."

"What are friends for?" she brushed his words aside.

"I want to be the man you believe I can be, so I'm going to be better," he said. "In my relationships, I mean, no more using people to make myself feel better, no more cheap thrills."

"That sounds… healthy."

"You don't sound convinced."

"That's because I'm not." She didn't want to be cruel but she had to be honest. "Talk is cheap, Oliver, and sure, you feel this way now but what about next week, next month, next year?"

"Okay, I deserve that."

"It's not about what you deserve, I'm not trying to put you down. I believe that people can change but not for other people. Change only works if you want it, and the way you prove it is in your actions, not with hollow promises."

"Understood."

"Good," she gave him a genuine smile, which he returned.

Before they could continue, there came a knock on the door.

"I'll get that, why don't you pick a movie from my collection," she said as she got up. It was their pizza, and not a moment too soon; she was starving.

Felicity was the first up the next morning, thanks not only to Oliver needing sleep more than she did, but also because she had insisted he take the bed as his need was greater. He had tried to argue, then assured her they could share the bed, but that was an intimacy too far.

She had a slight crick on her neck when she awoke but nothing a hot shower couldn't sooth. She was making them breakfast when he joined her, still damp from the shower.

"Hey," she greeting him with a warm smile. "How's my favourite archer?"

Oliver took a moment to consider. "I'm okay, I think."

"You certainly look better." She'd been worried about him, far more than she had let him see. Finding your friend wallowing in pity and self-loathing, sitting in the dark… well that didn't really inspire confidence. She had never thought that Oliver would harm himself, other than emotionally, but given the demons he carried around, the possibility of a breakdown of some sort wasn't that outlandish. He did suffer from PTSD, even at the best of times.

She also considered herself partially to blame for his recent upset, because she had told him about his mother and Merlyn, and then, after finding him with Sara, had kept her distance, pushing him away.

She could see now that she should have handled it better but even if she had to do it again, she wasn't sure that she could have done anything different. Even if it did feel selfish, she had to look after herself first and foremost, or she wouldn't be any use to him. It would be easy to be swept away by Oliver's strong, almost dominating, personality, but she needed to keep a clear head. If she became little more than an extension of him, she wouldn't have been able to help him last night.

Bruce coming on the scene probably hadn't helped matters but she didn't regret that either, she deserved a life too. The fact that she could share every aspect of her life with him, was a wonderful bonus.

He sat down at the table and she served up eggs, bacon and toast.

"Did you guys get anywhere after I left?" he asked.

"We've got a lot of small pieces but still no idea what the plan is and honestly, I'm not even sure if we have enough to put the pieces together. HIVE is huge, global, and they have their fingers in hundreds, maybe thousands of different pies."

"So what do we do?" Oliver asked.

The only viable solution Felicity had been able to come up with, was to cut the head off the monster. Even if Oliver was willing to execute Isabel though (and honestly, it wouldn't be at all good for his mental state) they didn't have a full enough picture of the organisation to be sure it would work.

Isabel was the HIVE Mistress, the Queen Bee if you will, but this wasn't an entomology class. What if there was a King Bee, or HIVE Master. Worse still, what if the organisation was more like Hydra, the mythical, multi headed beast? If you cut off one head, would two grow back?

"I don't know, but it's too soon to give up. Whatever she has planned, we know it's personal, she's coming after you and your family this time, and we will stop her."

"Why would they want truth serum?" he asked as they ate. "I can't really figure that one out."

"Well, first I would say that intel is probably worth a fortune to them and with an effective truth serum, they could learn virtually any secret they wanted to, if they gave it to the right people. The truth can also be weapon. Imagine if someone had given Clinton some before he gave his speech about not sleeping with the intern, he would have blurted the truth out on national television. Imagine how many other secrets the president keeps. A few strategic question at any press conference could ignite wars, bring governments down… The truth is very powerful."

Oliver studied her intently as she talked and she tried not to squirm under his scrutiny.

"You're right, the truth is powerful, which is why I need to thank you. You always tell me the truth, no matter how unpalatable is it and even when I don't want to hear it."

"It's one of the perils of not having a brain-mouth filter."

"Don't joke, I'm serious. Most people might have lied to me to try and make me feel better but not you, you always tell me the truth, as kindly as you can, and I've needed that more than ever lately. So thank you."

Felicity began to think that maybe he did have a chance of changing.

"Thank you, Oliver, that's one of the sweetest things you've ever said to me."

"Write it down," he suggested. "Then the next time I upset you, you can remember that I can be sweet, sometimes."

She laughed. "So, are we going to the office or lair?"

"Lair?" he asked.

"The foundry. You don't like the name?"

"No, I do. I like the idea of having a lair that I can lure people to, like some kind of vampire."

"Well, you are a creature of the night but I draw the line at fangs. The moment you start chowing down on blood bags or cheerleaders, I am outta there!"

"Deal," he agreed. "And let's go to the foundry. Call Bruce and tell him to meet us there."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm tired of secrets. You trust this guy and that's good enough for me."

"What about Sara and Roy? They came to help us after you left but Bruce doesn't know what they can do."

"I'll call them, they can decide for themselves how much they want to tell him."

Felicity was surprised by this development but she had no reason not to do as he asked.

"Okay."

"And I thought that your lair beneath Wayne Manor was bad," Alfred said, as he and Bruce approached the former steel foundry, come night club, come secret base.

"Appearances can be deceptive," Bruce reminded him.

"Are you sure we should have brought the motorhomes, Sir?"

"They're trusting me, I should trust them. Besides, we might need something in there, and I don't want to be running all over this city."

"As you wish."

Leaving the RVs in the parking lot, they went around to the south alley, as Felicity had instructed, and she was waiting there for them. She greeted Alfred with a smile and Bruce with a chaste kiss, then took them to the door. She punched in the code so they could see it, and opened the metal door.

"Welcome to the Arrow Cave." She said, as they walked in. The gang, Oliver, Diggle, Roy and Sara, stood up and came to greet them, they paused with about six feet between each group.

"I think it's time for formal introductions," Oliver said, stepping forward. "Oliver queen, CEO and the Arrow."

Bruce took a step into the no man's land. "Bruce Wayne, also known as the Bat."

"Alfred Pennyworth." He stepped forward. "Butler to Mr Wayne, former SAS Captain and MI6 operative."

"Not that everyone doesn't know but I don't want to be left out. Felicity Smoak, genius, hacker and if we're telling secrets, not a natural blonde."

That broke a little of the tension and raised a few smiles.

"John Diggle. Former Special forces and this guy's bodyguard," he pointed a thumb at Oliver.

"Sara Lance, until very recently, presumed dead, with a shady past to make up for."

"Roy Harper, former street thug and science experiment, with enhanced strength and healing."

Bruce's eyebrows rose on the last two but he didn't say anything. "Very pleased to meet you all."

"Well, now that's out of the way, we should get to work," Felicity headed to her computer banks.

Extra chairs from the nightclub had been brought down so that there were enough seats for everyone, and they followed her over to the command centre.

Bruce took in his surroundings as they walked, few if any details escaping his notice.

"I like what you've done with the place," he said to Oliver.

"That was mainly Felicity's doing," Oliver said.

"Yeah, well there were too many spiders down here before, I had to do something."

"So, where are we?" Oliver asked, and Bruce watched as his team went into action.

"We've confirmed seventy people who have received payments from HIVE over the past ten years, and we have over a hundred that we suspect have receive payments but can't prove as the banks have two people with similar initials and account numbers, or we just can't find a matching account."

"Roy and I have been listening to the bugs we planted," Sara said, "and while there hasn't been a lot said, two of the directors seem especially stressed, and it sounds like something might be going down on the seventeenth."

"That's only five days away," Bruce noted."

"So we have to act quickly," Oliver finished the thought. "Felicity?"

"I have searches running through the NSA, FBI and CIA computers, as soon as they know something, I'll know something. So far though, all quiet."

"Lyla is looking into things but like Felicity said, there's no talk through the usual channels." Diggle added.

"Which we know HIVE don't use," Oliver pointed out.

"She's doing everything she can." Diggle defended Lyla.

"I know. Does anyone know where Isabel went?" Oliver asked.

"I pinged her phone but got nothing, which probably means she deactivated the GPS chip. I also have a watch on her number so if she makes a call, I can see which towers the call gets routed through. It'll only give us a general location but it's better than nothing."

"It seems to me that these bugs are our best hope," Bruce said. "Perhaps we should have a word with the gentlemen in question."

"No, no beating anyone to a bloody pulp until we know what the plan is," Felicity argued. "If they catch wind that we're onto them, they could change their plans, even bring things forward, which would be a disaster." She still had nightmares about Merlyn bringing his plans forward, once he discovered the Trojan she had left on his system.

"Felicity, is there any way you could, gently, apply pressure?" Oliver asked her.

"What did you have in mind," she frowned.

"Something like hacking into the news feed, or an email that will worry them into talking to one another, without being specific."

Felicity thought about it for a moment. "They both check facebook a few times a day, how about if I find one of the more salacious articles into Merlyn and put a link to it on their wall as a 'suggested post'?"

"Might work," Oliver nodded.

"Both those men have families, right?" Bruce interjected.

"Yeah," Felicity confirmed.

"Then find an article about the son, that will hit closer to home."

Felicity's eyes flashed to Oliver and she waited for a conformation from him. Bruce was right, an article about Merlyn's plan getting Tommy killed would likely affect these men more than an article about Malcolm alone, but this was Oliver's friend they were essentially using as bait, and she wanted his permission first.

"Do it," he told her.

Bruce had noticed the odd interaction and Felicity was worried about what he would think of her seeking Oliver's permission before acting, although she wasn't actually seeking his permission as such, although she was…

Thankfully, Oliver came to her rescue before she could talk herself into a massive hole that she could spent fifteen minutes talking herself out of.

"Tommy Merlyn was my best friend and… I couldn't get to him in time."

Bruce nodded his understanding, his expression one of compassion, not judgement.

"Okay," Felicity turned to her screens. "Searching for one lurid, click-baitable article, with a sensationalist headline."

"We'll go over the bug recordings again," Sara said, gesturing to Roy. "See if there's anything new or we missed anything."

"I'll give you a hand," Diggle offered.

Oliver and Bruce eyed each other up, then Bruce cast his eye over the training mats.

"Want to spar?"

Oliver liked that idea, probably more than he should. "Sure."

"Play nice!" Felicity warned, although her back was to them. "Don't make me give one of you a time out."

"Is she always that bossy?" Bruce asked.

"You have no idea."

Felicity waved her hand over her shoulder, dismissing them and their jibes.

"Can I be of assistance to you, Miss Felicity?"

She looked up to see Alfred standing by her desk.

"Something tells me that they might need a referee more than I need a hand, but thank you."

Alfred looked over to where Bruce and Oliver were pulling their shirts off.

"Yes, I have a sneaking suspicion, you might be right."

AN: Okay, I promise I'm through being mean to Oliver now, honest! ;)