Hello Readers,

I've had so many comments and questions around this chapter, specifically the "will they/won't they." There are two things at play here: 1) Felicity would never be unfaithful to someone she was dating 2) Oliver would have learnt absolutely nothing if he took advantage of her. The idea is to see him grow as a person and realise that what he wants isn't always what he can have. Ultimately, Felicity would respect him more if he behaved with restraint rather than selfishly pursuing his own wants without any concern for how it would affect her. That said, it doesn't mean that he can't want to be with her or that he doesn't realise that he's been a complete ass. He knows that but he's giving her the space to choose what she wants rather than forcing her down a path of his own making.

I've always said that this story would have an Olicity ending and it certainly will. However, there have been so many requests from readers to see Felicity end up with Adam that some time back I decided to do both. That way, I can attempt to satisfy everyone. :)

Thanks again for all the reviews, comments and questions. I hope you continue to enjoy this journey.

LadyG

"W-What?" Felicity asked, rhetorically. She'd heard his statement; she just refused to believe it. They couldn't share a room. No way.

Oliver, for his part, looked equally unhappy with the situation and was probably not in the best mood to deal with inefficiencies. Fatigue was etched onto his face; his eyes were bloodshot, his voice just a tad gruff. Having caught a glimpse of herself earlier, she knew she didn't look or feel any better. She watched as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "This won't work, I know. Let's just try another hotel." He turned away to talk to the woman at the check-in counter.

Felicity listened as he briskly issued instructions, both his tone and manner brooking no opposition. Sighing, she eyed a plush chair longingly, wishing she could sink into its comforting folds to find oblivion and as a bonus, wake up in her own bedroom. But knowing that wasn't a possibility, she'd settle for a warm bath and a cozy place to sleep. She'd worry about giving Oliver's presentation a final once-over in the morning. Had she known that impulsively offering her services to help him would result in them potentially being roommates, she would have stayed put. But harping on it wouldn't change the situation. She'd come along and now she had to deal with the consequences.

Leaning against the counter, she watched as Oliver rubbed a hand across the back of his neck before reaching forward and impatiently tugging at the knot of his tie. It was late and it had been a long day. If she was honest, the idea of having to trek somewhere else was not at all appealing, but could she handle the alternative? Wouldn't it be a little too intimate? Come on, Felicity, it's not like he's suddenly going to be overcome by some rabid passion and throw himself at you. The thought made her frown. It was true. They'd spent hours together at the foundry, alone, sometimes throughout the night when they were working on a lead. Wasn't this the same thing? Well, sort of. Almost. Okay, not entirely. This was the Four Seasons, not a basement. But she supposed the principal was probably the same. It wasn't as though anything would happen. They were both adults and Oliver didn't see her in that way. Besides, she had a boyfriend who she'd never betray. Surely they could handle one night together?

Sneaking another look at Oliver's resigned face, she stepped closer to him and addressed the tall woman who had a phone in her hand, her fingers poised and ready to dial. "Will you have an extra room available in the morning?"

The brunette rustled through some papers. "Yes, Miss Smoak. We have a few overnighters that are checking out tomorrow."

Resolved, she turned to Oliver. "It's okay. I'm sure we can manage for one night."

He turned to look at her, clearly surprised. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, Felicity. We can move to another hotel. That won't be a problem."

"I appreciate the offer, thank you, but I'm tired and I don't relish the thought of having to move again. It's no big deal, really." She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince more, him or her. Sensing his unease, she placed a hand at his elbow reassuringly. "It's just for one night," she reiterated. "Besides, it's bound to be a mini palace, so privacy shouldn't be an issue."

She looked at the clerk for confirmation. "Yes, it's one of our premier suites. There's only one bedroom, but more than enough space to accommodate you separately."

Oliver still looked doubtful. "Are you sure?"

Was she? "Yes."

Acquiescing, he gave the woman an imperceptible nod and within seconds their bags were whisked away while they followed at a more sedate pace. "We'll straighten this out tomorrow, first thing," he guaranteed.

She only nodded, not knowing what else to say. She chose to blame her recent lapses in judgment on exhaustion. How else would she explain coming to New York with Oliver and then agreeing to share a room with him? Or rather, a suite, she corrected as she walked through the entrance hall of her temporary home and into a spacious and luxurious lounge. It was huge. Decorated in muted beiges and creams, it was pure extravagance, something she might have appreciated more if she hadn't been so wound up. Looking around, slightly in awe, she spied a set of fancy looking double doors at one end of the room which she assumed lead into the bedroom. There was another room, the door standing open, which was clearly a study. The large wooden desk and ornate chairs looked expensive, that area alone probably larger than her entire apartment. Good. Space wouldn't be a problem.

Walking past a guest toilet en-route back to the lounge, she heard the door to the suite close with a soft click. Fiddling with the strap of her purse, the reality of their situation finally sunk in. They were alone. No Diggle, no Sara and no Roy to act as a buffer. Oliver was standing, hands in pockets, looking at her. She couldn't read his expression, so in an attempt to do something other than staring back she slowly shrugged out of her coat and she threw it over the back of a plush sofa. Unsure of how to defuse the growing tension, which was rapidly morphing into a whole lot of awkward, she tried to think of words to fill the void.

"You can have the bedroom," he said without preamble.

"Oh, no," she objected. "You've paid for this. You deserve the room."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Five years on a desert island means I'm more comfortable on practically anything other than an actual bed."

She smiled at that. She'd seen him napping on the floor many times.

"Take the room," he urged softly.

"Thanks, I will."

He nodded and grabbed her suitcase, carrying it into the bedroom. She followed him, gasping as she stepped into the room. Before her was a bed the size of Manhattan. Similarly Oliver, still in his suit, looked equally large and dominating as he placed her bag on top of the snowy white coverlet. She'd never been in a bedroom with him before and certainly not under these, or similar, circumstances. While he'd never made any advances toward her that were anything but platonic, their proximity to the enormous bed set her nerves on edge.

"It's late," he said, hovering. "You should probably get some sleep. I'll use the bathroom first, if you don't mind. That way I won't have to disturb you again."

"Yeah, sure." Suddenly she felt wide awake. "I'll, err, get some tea in the meantime."

Hurrying out she called room service from the study and ordered her choice of hot beverage. She could hear Oliver moving about, the zip of his suitcase opening and closing, the soft thud of the extra linen from the closet as it hit the sofa, his footfalls as he moved about the room. By the time she hung up the phone, he'd stepped into the bathroom and thankfully closed the door behind him. Walking back into the bedroom, she could hear the water running.

Grabbing her mobile, she dialed Adam's number. He answered on the third ring. "Hey, I was hoping to hear from you."

Felicity smiled, immediately feeling better. "How's Chicago?"

"Cold and lonely," he replied with a sigh. "New York?"

"Unexpectedly full," she said vaguely.

"Full?"

Felicity wasn't going to lie to him any more than she had to. "The hotel messed up our reservation so Oliver and I are sharing." She said it casually, hoping he wouldn't read into it.

Silence greeted her statement. "Define sharing," he said eventually.

"It's just for one night. He's in the lounge, I'm in the bedroom. No big deal." She hoped she sounded convincing.

"I trust you, Felicity, but Oliv-"

His words stabbed at her conscience. "Doesn't see me that way," she interjected. "We're colleagues and friends. That's all."

His laugh sounded relieved. "I'm sorry. It's just that I would rather be the one sharing with you."

Grinning like a fool, she threw herself onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Let's do dinner as soon as you get back?"

"It's a date," he promised. She heard a commotion in the background. "I have to get back," he said reluctantly. "I'll call you in the morning?"

"Okay."

"Felicity?" he called as she was about to hang up.

"Yeah?"

His voice filled with all the warmth she'd come to expect, he whispered, "I miss you."

Smiling as she signed off, she heard the bathroom door open. Turning her head toward the sound, she was glad she was in the horizontal position. Standing, her knees might have turned to jelly. Oliver emerged from the shower with a towel slung low over his hips, a billowing cloud of steam trailing in his wake. She'd seen him in various forms of undress many times, but their current circumstances made this time seem more than just a little different.

Jumping to her feet, her mouth dry, she blurted, "That's hot."

Oliver stepped out of the shower, his mind a mess. The plane ride had been pure torture. Felicity had sat right beside him, the vanilla scent of her shampoo invading his senses while the hoops of her gold earrings attempted to hypnotise him as they swung to and fro. He'd been so distracted that he was surprised she hadn't picked up on his strange behaviour. He hadn't been expecting to spend his first night in New York sharing a suite with her. He's been surprised when she'd agreed to it since he hadn't thought it was a good idea. In the end, he'd agreed because there was no logical reason why they couldn't make it work. They'd spent so much time in each other's company over the past few years that one night alone shouldn't be an issue. Except, it was. Having her so close was messing with his resolve to steer clear of her, to keep things friendly and professional. It was obvious that she was serious about Donner and he wanted to support her choice, difficult as that was.

Drying off, he wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbed an extra one for his hair and walked out of the bathroom. Felicity, who he'd assumed would be in the other room, scrambled off the bed hastily. Facing him, her cheeks slightly flushed, she blurted, "That's hot."

Startled, he raised an eyebrow. "What?"

She closed her eyes briefly and waved a dismissive hand in front of her face. "Oh, nothing. I-I meant it looks hot… the shower." She must have noticed his confused look because she continued, "Err… because of all the steam coming in… you know… hot steam…" Her voice trailed off with a self-conscious giggle.

Shaking his head to dispel her nonsensical rambling he noticed that the skirt of her royal blue dress was completely rumpled and her hair more tousled than usual. For some reason her state of dishevel made him smile. "I'm done so you can head on in if you'd like."

"O-oh kay," she said, looking at him with a curious mixture of embarrassment and something else. Eyes narrowed, he cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what he was missing. He was sure he recognized… No. His heart lurched in his chest. Interest? Unconsciously, he took a step toward her.

Her eyes widened as he drew closer, her hands fidgeting nervously. "Thank you, for… err… bringing my bag in… to the room."

"You're welcome." Her cheeks filled with colour under the intensity of his scrutiny as he closed the remaining distance between them, his chest mere inches from hers. With her head titled upward to look at him he lifted a hand and gently brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead. Peering at him uncertainly, her regard was a combination of curiosity, caution and vulnerability. It was that vulnerability that hit him squarely in the gut.

What the hell am I doing?

He'd promised himself that he wouldn't take advantage of her, that he'd show her that he was different, that he was changing. If he allowed his baser instincts to take over, he'd only prove that he was no better than before, that deep down he was still as selfish and as thoughtless as ever. Even if he did kiss her, what was he hoping to achieve? She was with someone else, in a committed relationship. Felicity was not the kind of woman who could ever live with being unfaithful or disloyal. She'd hate herself if she succumbed and then later she'd hate him for putting her in that position.

She deserved more than a few stolen moments and he cared too much about her to risk ruining whatever was left between them. If they ever found themselves in a position to take their relationship further, it would be a mutual decision and not one he forced on her in an instant of weakness. Hard as it was, he stepped back, knowing it was the right thing to do.

There was a knock at the door. "That's probably room service," he said softly, turning away from her and clenching his fists tightly in an attempt to stop himself from acting on his impulses.

"Yeah," he heard her murmur as she swiftly departed.

Cursing, he walked into the study to get dressed.

An hour later, comfortable on the sofa, he still couldn't sleep. Felicity had gone to bed soon after her tea had arrived and he hadn't seen or heard from her since she closed the double doors between them. It had taken a lot to step away from her, from all the questions that plagued him, from all the scenarios that played out in his mind but never quite seemed to reach any conclusions. Every time he thought about her and what she meant to him, he was reminded of how he'd managed to screw up the connection that had once existed between them. His behaviour had ultimately driven her further away and for that he had no one to blame but himself. Roy had been right. How he treated her mattered. But fool that he was, he'd only realized it too late.

The truth was that he was tired of disappointing the people he cared about. Diggle had warned him about the pitfalls of taking her for granted and then deciding selfishly that he wanted her regardless of the cost to others. Placing his desires above what he knew was best for her wasn't worth it if it meant losing what was left between them. Felicity had chosen Adam and until she decided that he wasn't what she wanted, he would not place her in a position where she ended up betraying her own morals and beliefs. He didn't want that for her. She was one of the few principled people still in his life and if he took that away from her, he'd turn her into something she was never meant to be – he'd turn her into him – a thing he would never forgive himself for.

Knowing that he wouldn't get any sleep, he threw the blanket aside and pulled on some clothes. Perhaps a bit of fresh air would help clear his mind. Slipping outside, he couldn't help thinking that doing the right thing might make him a better person, but it was cold comfort when he knew that the woman he cared so much for was at that very moment probably thinking about somebody else.