Wow, just two details in "Salvation" have forced me to move the story along!

And so you don't have to look it up, Passover was on March 25th.

Also, I'm just going to cover certain parts of "Salvation," so mind the gaps!

Things were going so well. He'd been worried about her meeting Ronnie, but his son had been getting curious about his father's new girlfriend. So Felicity came over to his place for dinner the Sunday before Passover, and Ronnie cautiously crept into the living room to observe this strange blonde creature. Ed braced himself, knowing Ronnie could be blunt. His son told Felicity she was a geek. She said yes, she was. He blinked at her. Then, turning to his father, he said, "I approve."

Ed barely got a word in edgewise after that. Ronnie kept asking her questions over dinner, and he lit up when he found out she liked superheroes. Ronnie loved superheroes. They went on and on about the Avengers, Spiderman, Superman, Batman, the X-Men…Then later on, they discussed Doctor Who. Ed just sat back and listened to them talk. Ronnie wasn't usually like this around adults; it seemed he only got along with Ed's sister Cindy, who watched him after school and sometimes on weekends. But here he was talking Felicity's ear off, and she was just as absorbed.

The second the door clicked shut behind her, Ronnie looked at his dad.

"You're going to marry her, right?"

Ed raised his eyebrows. "We've been dating less than a month. It's too soon to say."
"But she likes superheroes and Doctor Who! And she's nice! And she has a pet tortoise! And did you see her nails? They're blue, Dad. You have to marry her."

Eight-year-olds come up with the best reasons for things.

That Tuesday night, Ronnie demanded to go on their date with them. They saw Oz the Great and Powerful, and Felicity was made to sit in the middle. Ronnie shared some of his Sour Patch Kids with her, which was actually a huge deal. Ronnie would sooner bite your finger off than share his candy.

And so, they were now on date number eight, and Felicity was still the most beautiful, most perfect girl in the world. Not that Ed would ever tell her; he was enough of a dork without saying mushy stuff like that.

They went out to lunch together at a burger joint not too far from either of their jobs. They had the best fries in the city, and he and Felicity shared them as they talked. When her drink had run out, she took the lid off and started eating the ice. Ed smiled; it reminded him of something.

"What?" she said, a little self-conscious.

He shook his head. "Sorry, it's just that Julia…" Ed glanced at the table. He felt awkward bringing up his late wife. Thankfully, Felicity had no problem with it. "She used to do that. Well, not all the time; it was just when she was pregnant with Ronnie. Turns out it's a symptom called pica. Not that I'm accusing you of being pregnant; people eat ice all the time."

Felicity giggled and stirred the ice with her straw. Suddenly she froze. Ed stared at her, sensing something wrong.

"Felicity?"

She didn't move. It was like she was stuck, trapped in a thought. Her eyes were fixed on her cup, but he could tell they were filled with anxiety.

"I didn't mean to scare you. It's not like you've got anything to worry about. We haven't even gotten close to—"

Felicity looked up at him, her gaze full of meaning.

"But…" Then it dawned on him. He leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. "There was someone who came before me?"

Her lip began to quiver, and she covered her hand with her mouth. Ed sat back, trying to think of an argument. But then he remembered; the nausea on their first date; the fatigue at the planetarium; the head ache at the zoo and at the movie on Tuesday. There was also that time she told him about all those cans of pie filling she ate; his wife had had a similar overwhelming craving attack that involved an entire box of Nilla wafers.

He'd never connected the dots before, because he didn't think it was possible. Nevertheless, Felicity was shaking in front of him, tears running down her face as she cried silently.

"Let's take a trip to the store," he said as he gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

He was glad he'd come to her office to get her; it forced her to let him help. He could see in the way she stayed quiet and avoided eye contact that she was ashamed, even hoping she could keep him out of this mess. As much as he wanted to know why she should be worried, he kept silent as he drove her to Walgreens.

She refused to let him go in with her. He understood. Twenty minutes later, she came out with a plastic shopping bag. He could only guess what was in it.

He drove her to Queen Consolidated and parked next to her car. She looked at him remorsefully and choked out an apology. He kissed her on the forehead and said to call him if she needed anything.

Stress. She had been blaming it all on stress. And it had seemed likely enough until she started eating ice, which she had never done before. That's when her missed period finally made sense; she thought she had just gotten it early, but she realized that must've been implantation bleeding.

Ed handled it so well. She couldn't look at him on the drive to Walgreens; she was so ashamed and wished he hadn't been around when she'd figured it out. At least he hadn't insisted on going in with her, although a part of her knew he might know how to pick out pregnancy tests. She'd gotten four, just to make sure. When he dropped her off by her car at work, she had wanted to run away without saying anything. But he deserved more than that. She'd turned to him and said she was sorry. He had kissed her forehead to let her know he wasn't angry or disgusted with her, and told her to call him.

After calling in to say she was sick, she drove home, the bag of pregnancy tests in the passenger seat. She glanced at them periodically as she drove home, trying to convince herself they'd all turn out negative.

She read all the instructions twice, and followed them to the letter. The wait was torture. She paced in her bedroom for the first minute or so, but that didn't help. So she got Paperweight from his tank and watched him dawdle around on the floor.

"Do you think I should be scared?" she asked as he nipped at a tassel on the living-room rug. Then she took out her phone to look up the accuracy of pregnancy tests.

She had taken them all one right after the other (It took the whole carton of orange juice), and the first one was done. Her hand shook as she picked it up.

Positive.

Her mind started racing, looking for a way it could be false, but none of the reasons applied to her. She was not on a certain kind of medication, the test wasn't expired, and she was too far along for it to be a chemical pregnancy. But maybe the brand had a flawed design. She kept her fingers crossed, even though two of the eighteen brands were said to have design problems.

Positive.

"Maybe Clearblue isn't a good brand."

Paperweight responded by getting stuck under the couch. Felicity decided he should go back in his tank before he hurt himself.

Positive.

Felicity felt lightheaded.

Positive.

Her knees smarted as she collapsed on the bathroom floor. There was so much to… she was so overwhelmed she didn't even know what to think first, although the word "baby" kept flashing in her mind. It was dangerous. She knew that. It was dangerous to be pregnant while helping the Hood, it was dangerous to be pregnant with Oliver's baby, it was dangerous to be pregnant with the Hood's baby. Hell, it was dangerous to be in this city.

As the thoughts swirled around, she was surprised to see that none of them was "I must get rid of it." It was as if her maternal instinct had kicked in, and it was cranked to eleven. No, she wouldn't get rid of it; she wouldn't take the easy way out and call it a necessary sacrifice. This baby was her responsibility, not to mention the only innocent party in this situation. She loved it, instantly, with so much intensity that it scared her.

Tears ran down her cheeks now, and she placed a hand on her stomach. You're not going anywhere, she thought. But how would she keep that promise? She had been pregnant when she wore that bomb collar, and when the Huntress considered killing her. But she couldn't leave the team, at least not until she found Walter. They really, really needed her, anyway. So what was she to do? What if…? She swallowed hard at the thought of telling Oliver. He might try to convince her to… She shook her head. No way was she taking that risk. Not even with Diggle, who might be compelled to tell Oliver. So, what, she'd keep it a secret? She'd really hide the fact that she was pregnant? Hell yes. Felicity was determined to keep this hidden for as long as possible, then she would… Do something. She would, um, run off when she started showing and then give the baby up for adoption. It wasn't a full plan, but it was something. In the meantime, she'd have to bury it; bury the secret so deep that it'd only feel like a fading dream when she remembered it. One slip-up and I'm doomed, she told herself. She was going to hide this so well, it'd make Oliver look like he broadcasts his secret when he feels bored. They would never suspect a damn thing; her motivation was too strong. It was time, once again, to smile though her heart was aching.

But there were two people she really had to tell. One was her doctor.

The other was Ed.

It was a mercy that Ed hadn't been swamped when he got back to work. He needed time to tune out and worry, which was easier to do when you've already met your deadline.

He wasn't angry with Felicity at all, though he thought most guys would be. The identity of the father was a particularly annoying mystery, but he tried not to think about it; it wasn't any of his business.

But she might not be pregnant at all, he reminded himself. The symptoms weren't conclusive… right?

He drove home from work, anxiously tapping the steering wheel. She still hadn't called. He entered his apartment and glanced for the thousandth time at his cell phone. She still hadn't called. He hugged Ronnie and thanked Cindy for looking after him. She still hadn't called.

His phone rang and he snatched it from the coffee table.

"Felicity?"

Ronnie looked up and Ed walked into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Ed leaned on the island and closed his eyes for a moment. "Do you need anything?"

"You don't deserve to go through this," she said, emotion rising in her voice. "I think we should—"

"I can handle it, really," Ed countered, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "I can help."

"But you shouldn't have to."

"But I want to."

"It's not even yours!"

"No, but it's yours." His hand gripped the counter. He was so afraid of losing this argument. "And that's all I care about."

She whimpered, and Ed could tell she was sobbing, the sound muffled by her hand on her mouth.

"Please don't," Felicity begged once she got her tears under control.

"You could tell people it's mine." he offered, his eyes welling with tears. "I've been wanting to have a kid with you, anyway."

The other end was silent, and he knew she was crying, the phone pressed against her shoulder.

"I refuse to do this to you." she finally said. "Please, Ed, this is hard enough,"

Ed took a deep breath. "Okay," he replied, his voice breaking.

"Could you please not tell anyone I'm pregnant? Please?" she begged.

He nodded. "Not a soul,"

"Thank you,"

Saying goodbye to Ed had been unbearable. But how could she get him roped into this? He deserved better. It would be wrong of her to involve him in all this drama. She was really going to miss him, though. Ronnie, too.

At six-twenty, she heard a knock on the door. She looked through the peephole and saw Ed.

"Didn't I break up with up an hour ago?" she asked, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks.

"Let me do this one last thing for you."

She sighed wearily and opened the door for him. He stepped over the threshold and handed her a grocery bag.

Eager to avoid eye contact, she studied the contents: Folic acid, prenatal vitamins, What to Expect When You're Expecting, The Pregnancy Book: Month-by-Month, body lotion, a waistband extender—

"Oh, and there's this," Ed reached to the right and picked up the body pillow that was resting against the wall. "I'm not sure if this is everything you'll need for now, but I think it's the major stuff."

Felicity blinked, feeling the tears return. "Can you please stop being so perfect? You're making me feel worse."

"Um… Goshdarnit, Felicity, how could you be so stupid?" he reprimanded, pointing a judgmental finger at her. "How's that?"

She smiled for the first time since lunch. "That works."

Ed rocked on his heels. "Do you need a hug?"

"Absolutely."

He stepped forward and embraced her, tossing the body pillow to the side. Felicity set the bag down and held him tightly.

"If you need me, you call, okay?"

"Okay,"

Ed reluctantly pulled away. "I wish I could stay longer," he said, his hands caressing her face. "But I left Ronnie alone, and I need to get back before he sets something on fire." He kissed her forehead.

"Goodbye, Ed,"

"Goodbye, Felicity,"

She wiped at her eyes as she watched him leave.

Felicity woke to the sound of her cell ringing. She glanced at her clock: one-thirty. It better not be Oliver with a project.

She answered the phone, too groggy to put on her glasses to read who it was. "Hello?"

"Felicity?"

Her brows furrowed. "Ronnie? What… why are you up so late? And why are you calling?"

"Is it my fault?"

The question woke her up a bit. "What?"

"Did you break up with my dad because of me? He said it was because you guys don't have enough in common, but was he just being nice? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, sweetie, of course not. Your dad was telling the truth."

"But that can't be the truth."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yeah," he whispered.
"I broke up with your dad to protect him. And you, too. I'm dealing with something very dangerous right now and I don't want you or your dad to get hurt. Do you understand?"

"Wow…" he replied, amazed. "Like the Hood?"

Felicity was very awake now. "What?"

"The Hood is very dangerous. Are you working with him?"

"Um…"

"I think…" Ronnie got very quiet again, like he was about to reveal a secret of his own. "that he's actually a good guy. Are you helping him? Is that why you need to protect us?"

"Sweetie, if you promise to never tell anyone ever, including your dad, then sure, that's exactly why."

He fought back a giggle. "I knew you were cool!"

"So… did you steal your dad's phone?"

"Nope. I took his phone while he was in the shower and got your number from it, then I called you on the cordless phone when I was sure he was asleep. I'm hiding in my tent now."

"Smart," she mumbled, impressed. "You have a tent? You never showed me your tent!"

"We hadn't reached that point in our relationship."

Felicity chuckled into her pillow.

"So does this really mean we can't be friends anymore?"

She bit her lip. "I don't think it'd be fair to your dad if I kept talking to you."

"But he got eight dates with you and I only got two!"

"Ronnie,"

"Fine," he mumbled.

"Now go to bed."

"You go to bed."

The Hood didn't call her in until the following Monday. Oliver was working out when she came in, and he didn't even acknowledge her. That figured. He'd shrunk back into his shell after the whole Huntress thing. After the progress they'd made, he'd gone back to refusing to joke around with her. Jerk. As if he hadn't done enough already…

"I didn't get to talk to you when you were here Wednesday," Diggle said as she sat down at the desk. "How did Passover go with your parents?"

She smiled at him. "Like it usually does. I got out of work early and made it there by noon, my dad called me 'Flick' like he always does…" She paused to narrow her eyes at him, warning him to never use the nickname. "My mom talked my ear off as I helped her cook, we started at six-thirty and ended by one AM, and then slept in the next morning." Her smile grew to a grin. "But after that comes my favorite part: We always have waffles and watch Fiddler on the Roof with breakfast. And my dad always gets up and sings and dances along with 'If I Were a Rich Man.'"

Diggle chortled. "Your dad sounds cool."

"Oh, no, he's a total dork. Little bitty mouse of man with wire-rimmed glasses and a perpetual smile. And he hums a lot."

"You still sound pretty lucky to have him."

She shrugged, knowing it was true.

"Did they interrogate you about Ed?"
Oliver stopped hitting that pole thingy. She didn't know if it was to hear their conversation or just to take a break.

"Yeah, they were excited about it."

"How's it going with him?"

The question stung, but she was able to keep it together. "Oh, we broke up on Thursday."

Diggle looked sympathetic, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. How're you doing?"

"Fine." Sort of.

"How many dates had you been on?" asked Diggle.

"Eight."

"What was the problem?"
"We… uh, we just don't have as much in common as we thought."

"Told you so," Oliver murmured, not realizing they could hear.

"Oliver?" Felicity said.

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Shattered femur,"

His eyes widened, torn between being shocked and insulted. Diggle covered his mouth to hide a smile. Felicity turned back to the monitors and started her work.

Oliver hadn't been fooled by Felicity's vague reason for no longer dating Ed. He knew how guys worked. They had been on eight dates, and then they broke up because they didn't have enough in common? Yeah, right.

The next night, Oliver paid Ed a visit at his apartment. He really, really wanted to go as the Hood, but that wouldn't have been a smart move.

Ed was surprised to see billionaire playboy Oliver Queen at the door, and nervously invited him in.

Oliver cut to the chase. "So I heard you broke up with Felicity,"

Ed raised his eyebrows. "Well, it was mutual—"

"Right, that's how she made it sound." He took a few steps towards the living room. "Something about not having enough in common?"

"Yeah," Ed was getting really confused. Why did Oliver care? Why would he even know about them breaking up, anyway?

"You know, Ed, there's no point in playing innocent with me." Oliver faced him. "After eight dates? It's obvious what really happened."

"It… is?"

He stepped closer, making Ed feel intimidated. "I know how it works, Ed. You got what you wanted, and then you bailed."

He blinked. "I'm still lost."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Once you got her in bed, there wasn't anything else you wanted from her. So you dumped her."

"Whoa," Ed exclaimed, shocked. "We were only dating for a month! All I ever did was kiss her!"

Oliver looked unconvinced.

"I'm telling you the truth." Ed stared at him, wondering why… Oh. "Wait a minute, you like her!"

The billionaire blushed. "I do not,"

"Oh, you definitely… do." The reporter had a look on his face Oliver didn't understand. He had clearly made some big connection, but Oliver couldn't think what it was.

"Am I going to read about a billionaire playboy's love for an I.T. girl tomorrow?" he quipped.

Ed snapped out of his musings. "I don't believe in gossip."

"You're a reporter who doesn't believe in gossip? I find that ironic."

"Dad, who's this guy?"

Oliver turned around to see a boy with a Spiderman action figure staring at him. So this was Ronnie.

"Hey, are you that jerk I see on TV sometimes?"

Oliver sighed, realizing he probably was. "Yes, I am."

"Are you talking to my dad about Felicity? Do you know her?"

Growing self-conscious, he glanced at Ed. "Yeah, I'm a friend of hers."

"Wait here," Ronnie rushed down the hall.

One uncomfortable half-minute later, he brought Oliver a little Iron Man action figure.

"Can you give her this?"

Oliver took the toy, nodding. Then he looked at Ed.

"Good talking to you," he said, sounding like he really wanted to leave.

"Yeah," Ed opened the door for him, and he dashed out of the apartment.

The action figure felt like a lead weight in his jacket pocket. How could he give it to Felicity without her suspected he went to interrogate Ed? And he couldn't just get rid of it; Ronnie looked so hopeful. Oliver didn't know when they met, but it seemed that had gotten along really well. He wasn't sure what she and Ed didn't have in common, but he did now know that Ed hadn't dumped her after sleeping with her. Oliver knew he wasn't lying; he could tell.

Oliver left the toy on the desk in the lair for her to find. He hoped she wouldn't ask questions. She didn't, although she did give him a knowing smirk.

Friday, April 5th

That showoff. That big, muscly, stupid showoff. Why did he insist on being shirtless and working out in front of her? Or above her, actually. He gripped a bar high above her head, keeping his body horizontal which, she noticed, made every muscle flex. So. Not. Cool. The news played on the monitor in front of her, going on about a slumlord. Oliver pointed out that he was one of the richest developers in the city, and also one of the dirtiest. His voice was gruff as he spoke, his whole body straining to maintain its position. It was difficult for her not to gape when he held the bar with one hand and hung there like a gorgeous monkey man, and it was even worse when he dropped to the floor. She got a wonderful view of his backside, and she swallowed hard to stifle a whimper.

Then he asked her if she was okay with him crossing this messed-up mogul off the list. She eventually said one-hundred percent, but it was more like seventy. Felicity had become a tad bit better about that kind of thing, but not much. The guy built faulty buildings, but they were still places to live, right? Hopefully Oliver would only scare him into being good. Anyway, he probably would've gone whether Felicity was okay with it or not.

Diggle didn't need to point out his recent, excessive time as the Hood. Oliver was conscious of it. And, okay, so maybe Diggle was right; Oliver was avoiding entanglements. But wasn't that for the best? It was true that the people who got close to him got hurt.

"What's the problem? Do you think I'm losing my grip?"

"No, it's just the opposite, really. You seem calm; scary calm." Diggle watched him sip his drink, knowing he wanted to avoid this conversation. "I get it that things didn't end well with Helena, with McKenna—"

"With Laurel," Oliver interjected, cutting him off before he could mention Felicity. "With Sarah… the list goes on."

"Yeah, but what do you do? You hood up, you go home, you repeat. That's not much of a life, man—"

"The life that I'm leading for myself right now doesn't leave much room for an actual life." he countered, his voice getting close to that of his Hood persona. "And I don't need one."

"Wow," Diggle responded, raising his eyebrows. "That's a pretty bleak future you plan on spending with no one."

Oliver stared at him for a second, knowing what Diggle was getting at. Felicity was no longer dating Ed, and Diggle thought he should take advantage of that. "I'm used to isolation."

"And that is exactly what worries me,"

Oliver sighs, getting irritated.

"You've been home for eight months, Oliver," Diggle continued. "But I don't think you've left that island yet."

Suddenly, the cacophony of ringing phones grew louder and more suspicious.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Diggle.

Then Felicity called. Oliver answered his phone.

Oliver sure liked to yell at her, didn't he? He could've politely asked her to track down disgruntled tenants who might want the slumlord dead, but no. It was bark, bark, bark. It's not like she was doing this without pay, or anything. So she sat alone in the basement, thankful she had eaten dinner already. She was also kind of happy to be alone. Her performance had been flawless—Felicity deserved an Emmy— but it was draining. The times she'd been in the Cave since… you know… she hadn't hung around very long. She just stared at her screen and did as Oliver asked, then she went home to cry, eat ice, and hug her tortoise. Hell, she only found out last week and she was keeping herself together. Bravo, Felicity.

Oliver yelling at her hurt more than it should have. It stirred up fears, imagined scenarios of her telling him what she was going through. There was always lots of yelling. She wasn't sure how accurate the prediction was, but she didn't want to risk it.

Her hands shook as she worked, struggling to keep the truth from flooding her mind and filling her with anxiety. Not now, sweetie, she thought, gently tapping her stomach. It calmed her, oddly enough.

Then she found the live feed. Well, at least she knew what happened to the slumlord. She sent the link to Oliver and told him to watch. Her eyes were glued to the screen as the crazy videographer described the slumlord's wicked deeds. Then things started to look bad when the slumlord tried to argue his case. Felicity turned around just before the gun went off.

Saturday, April 6th

Felicity crouched in a huddled ball in a dark corner of the Cave. Diggle had tried to comfort her, tried to tell her it wasn't her fault, but it didn't matter. She was about to break, and she needed him to go away. She yelled at him to leave her alone and hugged her legs tighter. He backed off, startled. She had never shouted at him before. Tears spilling over onto her cheeks, she rested her chin on her knees as he climbed the stairs.

She had never seen anybody die before. It was her fault. She knew it was her fault. That man didn't deserve to die. She should've figured out his location, she should've known what the Savior was doing… and she'd tried so hard. Oliver's yelling didn't help, but she couldn't blame him for being angry. That attorney died because she couldn't find him.

It also brought out that precious, buried-deep-down fear; what if she couldn't save her baby? She bit her lip to keep from crying harder and frantically shoveled dirt on top of the growing anxiety. Keeping the secret was one thing, but staying out of danger wasn't always easy. Felicity shook her head, stomping down on the freshly turned earth. Bury it, bury it, bury it…

At least he didn't think it was her fault.

Oliver came down the stairs to find Felicity leaning against a table, turning an arrow around in her hands. Was she good enough for this job? Was it worth staying, even though it's started to severely mess with her life? Could she handle it, and the loneliness that came with it? She felt like she had no one to talk to. Well, actually, there was Diggle, but the thing was… She was missing Oliver. A lot. She wanted to talk to him about all this crap, and she felt like she bothered Diggle enough.

Oliver told her it wasn't her fault, which she found hard to believe. She told him that maybe it was better to be alone, and she kind of believed it.

"I'm not seeing anyone currently, but… If I were, I don't know how I'd tell him about today."

He said nothing in return. All he did was take the arrow from her and walk away.

Why did she even say that? It just sort of… came out. It looked like it made him feel guilty. Maybe it did. Maybe it should. He's the reason she broke up with Ed, the reason she was suffering so much, the reason… No, she was not going to play the blame game. That never ended well. It was just as much her fault as it was his. And Oliver was messed up, remember? She couldn't expect him to function like a well-adjusted human being, right?

After he left, she realized she hadn't slept, eaten, or showered since before she entered the lair. So she went home to take care of Paperweight, and then bought a sandwich to eat in the Cave. After lunch, she took a nap on the sparring mat before continuing her work.

Finally, it was all over. The subway! If only she had known the city used to have a subway… She was glad she had isolated that sound, and that Diggle recognized it. And then Oliver saved that pretty gangbanger! Who happened to be dating Oliver's sister. Awkward. But everything turned out okay, even though Oliver had to kill the Savior. Felicity felt bad for him, even though he didn't show Oliver's "level of restraint." Still, it was over. Mercifully, wonderfully over. She wanted to leave (Shower time!), but she wasn't quite done yet. She wanted a map of the subway system before going. It might come in handy someday.

"Psst,"

Felicity turned in her chair to see Oliver standing behind her.

"If you ever need to tell someone about your day… You can tell me."

She smiled at him as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was nice to not be pushed away for once. It almost gave her hope for the two of them.

"Thanks," she said quietly, wanting very much to put her hand over his. But she didn't want to push her luck.

Felicity's song for this chapter is "Breathe (2 AM)" by Anna Nalick. And I'm sorry, but it's going to be hard for me to keep up now that it's the last month of the semester. I'll try, though!