Guys, you are amazing! Your support and your brilliant feedback means the world to me. A very big thank you and all my love to Lisbon99 for another awesome review (I knew I couldn't fool you with Burton ;) ), to nrdhrd3 for sticking with this story, to Britany and Carfa for taking the time to share their love, to Sarah for the excitement and asking the right questions and to Vickstilk, whose brilliant review made me grin like an idiot in happiness. I hope this chapter lives up your expectations. Much love, Jules!

3. Poker Face (Lady Gaga)

He was 29 and this was his first time.

Well, there was a first time for everything, but this was somehow ridiculous.

Because he had never had the official "family meets girlfriend"-dinner at his home. He had been formally introduced to Detective Lance back when he had been dating his daughter Laurel, but Laurel had never had to go though the same thing with his family. Not that his parents hadn't cared who he dated, but...

Well, yeah, his parents hadn't really cared who he dated.

Girls had just come and gone to his home, and Laurel had been the one to come longer and more regularly. Until he had fucked it up by cheating on her with her younger sister Sara. That had been a dick move – but Oliver had been a dick back then.

Nowadays he was trying really hard to be a good guy. An image that was getting serious cracks since he was about to do the first "family meets girlfriend"-dinner with a girl that wasn't really his girlfriend, but his...

Not even in his mind could he define what Felicity was to him.

He had called her his friend; he had called her his partner, but he knew that she was more to him than either of these labels. Not officially. But in his heart she was, even though he would never dare to think about it, let alone act on it. He was closer to Felicity than to every other woman he had ever known – and that didn't even involve physical closeness. He had never even stroked her cheek, and he would never dare to do so, because he knew that entirely harmless gesture would be getting them into too dangerous territory.

Felicity knew the real him, all of him. Oliver had different personas he showed to different people. Felicity had met them all. In the last two years they had built up trust and platonic commitment, a deep friendship that meant everything to him. He would never dare to risk that. He would never dare to risk her. And he would, if he crossed that line. He would never do that. Because it was better to keep things like they were than risk losing her. Never change a running system.

"I still think I should have changed." Felicity's words caused Oliver to look at her. She was sitting next to him in the backseat of the car Diggle was driving. Her hands were picking invisible fuzz from her coat. "I wore this this morning when your mother invited us. I am sure she changed. Your family seems like the kind of family to have dress codes for dinner." Her head snapped to him so fast that her ponytail flew behind her, "Do you have a dinner dress code?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

He fought the urge to reach for her hand that was now nervously moving over her head checking her hair. "Is my hair okay? Should I open-"

"Felicity," he couldn't deal with this right now. "Stop it. You look very pretty." He ignored the smile that his words caused to appear on her face and continued to assure her, "Everything will be fine."

"How?" Serious again, she turned her body toward him in her seat, "How can everything be fine? We still have no plan."

"We have a plan," Oliver corrected her.

"We don't have a plan, we have a disaster in the making."

He felt annoyance grow inside him. "If you have a better idea, Felicity, I am happy to hear it," he challenged. She stared at him, her mouth tightening, and he knew she had nothing, but a bad feeling about what they were doing. She was right about that. It was a bad idea, but it was all they had. "We will make this work."

"Because our last 'make it work'-moments worked out perfectly." Felicity had only muttered it, but she had known he would understand it.

"Enough!" he snapped. "Do you think I enjoy adding another lie to the bundle of lies I'm already feeding my family? I really don't need your attitude right now!"

"Do you really think your mother doesn't know the truth?" Of course, Felicity had no intention to put the attitude away. Instead, she looked at him challengingly. "About the engagement, I mean. She all but told you to take one for the family business."

He glared at her, angrily. His eyes were shooting daggers, but he didn't say one thing to correct her.

Because she wasn't wrong.

"Well, if that's not the sound of wedding bells..." Diggle commented drily.

Hearing this, Oliver's eyes snapped to the front again, meeting his friend's gaze in the rearview mirror. Only after that did Oliver notice that the car was standing in front of Queen mansion. It was time to get this show on the road.

They had just entered the hall and a maid had taken Felicity's coat when Thea walked down the stairs. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the most talked about couple in Starling City." His sister had never been a person to go with a simple hello.

"Thea," Oliver greeted her, but there was enough warning in his voice to make it perfectly clear that he wanted her to play nice.

"Ollie," she matched his greeting, signaling to her brother that, even if she had understood his warning, she wasn't willing to act accordingly. A smile showed on Thea's face as she now stopped next to the couple. She eyed them carefully, "So, you're the girl that got my brother to propose..."

That wasn't going well. Before Felicity could even start rambling he tried to deflect the tension by introduction, "Thea, this is Felicity Smoak. Felicity, my sister Thea."

"Ollie," Thea made a dismissive gesture. "We met before. Thinking back to it now I should have known there was something more going on with you two," her eyes snapped to his brother, "as often as your secretary showed up at the club."

"Executive Assistant," Felicity corrected. Seeing the way the Queens looked at her, she defended, "There's a difference between Executive Assistant and secretary... I think..."

"I do not think this distinction is relevant for tonight. As you are not here as Oliver's employee." Moira, who had appeared in the door leading toward the living room, entered the conversation.

Oliver felt Felicity tense even more next to him as she now greeted his mother, "Mrs. Queen. Thank you for inviting me." A heartbeat of silence followed and, instantly, Oliver knew what would happen next. "I am sorry, I should have brought flowers. Or wine. I wanted to. But I forgot, because an unscheduled meeting came up. Even though, an Executive Assistant should probably be better with remembering these things, but in my defense-"

Felicity's defenses were never really good. Oliver stopped her right there, "I told Felicity it's okay to not bring anything."

His mother was all poise and good manners, "It is perfectly fine. And, please, call me Moira."

Before Felicity could say anything, Thea stopped grinning from the sidelines and instead said, "Felicity, how come we never talked before?"

"Oh, I had a quick chat with Felicity after I was released from prison," Moira stated. "She paid me a very nice compliment."

Oliver felt his mouth twitch in annoyance. What was it with his passive aggressive family today? He didn't like how any of this was going, but was kinda lost how to react to this, how to change the direction of this evening. He was used to taking their attitude, especially and mostly Thea's, while keeping his ugly yelling side tightly bottled up. He chose to go the distraction-route again, "Is dinner ready?"

It was. And it was pretty obvious that his idea to make this quick had just gone out of the window: His mother had even added appetizers to the menu. Luckily, the conversation during that had stuck to QC-business. Moira and Oliver had done most of the talking while Felicity and Thea had concentrated on their blackened ahi tuna (seared rare). Oliver felt like it was save conversational territory for all parties involved.

Of course, Thea forced them to leave that once the tomato soup had been served. She looked to her mother and her brother as she stated, "Do you know that it has been years since we last had a family dinner like this?"

Moira frowned. "This can't be true."

"But it is. Last time we all gathered around a table was years ago."

A smile on her face, Moira stated, "Then we should do this more often from now on. Next time we'll make sure that Roy will have time to be here as well."

Thea's reaction to that, her honest and open smile before she brought a soup-filled spoon to her lips, showed Oliver glimpses of the little girl he had once known. It caused an unexpected happy jolt to race through him. It was familiar and so unexpected; it was unbelievably nice.

It didn't last long. "Enough business-talk. Time to get to the important stuff," Thea decided in the next moment and her eyes settled on Felicity. "How did you and Ollie meet?"

"We met at Queen Consolidated. Oliver came down to the IT-department, because he had spilled a latte over his laptop."

That was a good version of the truth, Oliver decided, and added his own, "Felicity helped me save the data I needed."

"Is that why you bring her a latte every morning?" Thea looked like she enjoyed the reaction that got out of the two people sitting opposite to her and went on to explain, "It was mentioned on twitter using the hashtag Olicity, which I think is the coolest couple's name EVER. Makes you sound like serious business."

Oliver just stared at her, "Do you think that's funny?"

Thea grinned. "A little."

"I bet it was Ginger Rogers." Feeling the eyes of the other three people sitting around the table settle on her, Felicity hurried to add, "Sounds like a fake name, I know, but it isn't. And she's a redhead! She's the head secretary in accounting, and she always tattles in the break room, I bet it was her telling people about the latte."

"Well, I think it's nice that Oliver brings you a coffee every morning," Moira chimed in.

"Yes," Felicity agreed as she turned her head to look at Oliver, who was sitting next to her, "It really is."

A small smile played around his lips as they looked at each other for a few heartbeats, before they turned back to the soup. The next moments were spent in silence until, for once, Oliver ended it. He turned to his mother, "I thought about contacting our lawyers."

Moira frowned, "Regarding what?"

"Regarding suing Starling Times." He saw the surprise his words caused in the females around him – and none was more surprised than Felicity. But he was serious about this, "I am sure their reporter Cliffort Kent recorded the conversation between Felicity and myself. He left his phone at the office. We didn't see it until he came back to get it."

"And you were having the conversation that was published while the phone lay there?" Moira asked.

"We were. I cannot just let him get away with it."

"I should inform you that Cliffort Kent contacted Maria Sullivan today."

Felicity frowned and decided to participate in the conversation, "The head of the PR department? Why?"

"To assure her that he had nothing to do with this. He even offered to turn in his phone to prove he recorded nothing. He plans on suing SGN himself – his name was apparently mentioned in the recording."

Oliver inhaled deeply. "It was."

Moira placed her spoon next to her empty plate. "I will talk to our lawyers, if you really want me to. But I think we should let this go."

"Let it go?" Felicity looked truly taken aback. It was stressed by how quickly she was talking, "Why should we let this go?"

"Because it works in our favor." This stunned Felicity into silence, and Moira continued, now addressing her son, "This may not be what you wanted to happen or how you wanted it to happen, but I talked to Dent after lunch, and he commented that you settling down was the best decision you could make in the current situation."

The fact that Oliver needed a moment to connect the name to a person proved that he wasn't the best CEO out there, "Dent Bradfort."

"Yes," Moira confirmed, "one of the most influential members of our board. If he can be persuaded to trust in your abilities to lead our company, the rest will follow his lead."

Oliver could feel the annoyance circle through his veins. He couldn't look at his mother right now, he couldn't look at anybody. He stared right past his mother, who was sitting at the head of the table, trying to keep all his emotions in like he always did around his family.

Of course, in this situation they had to notice his internal struggle. Moira's voice was soft as she said, "I am sorry, Oliver. I know it were my mistakes which left our company vulnerable. It is not right that I ask you to clean up the problems I have caused. I wish you would not have to do this. But we both have no choice. You are the only one who can make sure a Queen stays in charge of Queen Consolidated."

Oliver knew she was right. And he truly believed that she was sorry about it, sorry about everything she had caused them to got through. He needed to believed that, because he loved his mother despite everything she had done. He knew who his mother had been and who she still was, but she was his mother – and he believed that in her own twisted way she had always looked out after him and Thea. She was protecting her children with everything she had.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see the problem." Thea looked around at the other people. "I mean, Ollie, you proposed, right? You want to marry Felicity. So, isn't it just a bonus that it helps the company?"

Oliver straightened up in his chair, digging his brain for an answer to this. He had none. At least not a good one that didn't reveal stuff he didn't want revealed to his baby sister, ever.

"Oliver just knows that I'm not happy with all the publicity." Felicity glanced at him for a second, he registered it out of the corner of his eyes, before she continued her tale which was, strictly speaking, a lie while it was still true, "There were some very... hurtful... things written and posted, and it made me question, if Oliver and I should... stay engaged."

Hearing this, Oliver's eyes settled on Felicity, who had just found them a good out of this mess – and who was willing to take the blame. The blame why they couldn't be a couple, the blame why they wouldn't be doing what was best for his family's business. It was smart and it was generous – it was just very much her.

The quiet moment between them was ended by a clanking sound. Thea's spoon had dropped out of her hand and onto her plate. "Of course, you should!" She sounded honestly upset. "And not because of QC or whatever, but because of what you obviously feel for each other." The warm feeling that had spread inside Oliver was gone instantly. He felt his sister's intense gaze on him before it switched to Felicity, "You cannot let a few nasty comments make you question a decision that felt right to you."

"I-"

Thea didn't let Felicity even start talking, "It's the secretary bedding the boss thing that's bothering you, right? We can show people that you're more than a secretary. Sorry! Executive Assistant. We can turn you into a somebody in Starling's who's who." Her eyes beamed now, "Let me host your engagement party at the club."

"We decided against having one of those," Felicity objected. And Oliver couldn't help but notice that by objecting to the party she had kinda agreed to staying engaged.

Obviously, Thea took this the same way, "No, you need to have one."

"I think a party at your club is a wonderful idea," Moira supported her daughter. "And, Felicity, you and Oliver should come to the gala of the Starling City Historical Society with us next week. I will make sure to serve you a seat at the Queen table."

It was so typically his family. Queens always closed the ranks. No matter how many disagreements were going on on the inside, to the outside they always presented a united front. And somehow this now included Felicity. It left Oliver ambivalent, it was a good thing, while at the same time it really shouldn't be happening. He was feeling like the situation was slipping beyond his grasp, beyond his control. And he was fighting very hard not to allow one very disturbing thought to enter his mind; namely, that he never had any control over what was happening here in the first place.

Thea smirked at Felicity, "You're going to be a Queen. Learn to live with it."

Dinner had not gone as planned. Maybe part of the basic problem had been that there hadn't been a detailed plan to begin with. It mad been more a general strategy. But even that had gone out of the window once his mother and Thea had taken over.

And take over he had let them.

Which in hindsight made no sense, but it had still happened, and it had worked him up so much that he hadn't been able to sleep. His body was exhausted, but his mind couldn't be slowed. So he had decided to put his insomnia to some good use and had gone for a past-midnight run. He had really pushed his limits and afterward he had been so drained that he had dropped dead onto his bed. What had followed had more resembled a coma than a good healthy sleep.

The coma had been cut short, because he had a meeting at 8.30. He had been so late that he had only managed to place the latte on Felicity's desk while offering her a "good morning", before he had rushed into the conference room.

He really didn't know what was more exhausting: the constant meetings and talking of his day job or the fighting of his nightly work. The latter at least gave him a sense of accomplishment.

When he finally entered the Foundry ten hours later, he felt like he had accomplished nothing but digging himself a deeper hole. His steps rattled down the metallic stairs as he hurried down to where he could see Felicity sitting at the desk looking toward the array of screens with her back toward him. The tension that this day had caused in him made him wish she had found somebody he could go after. He felt like hitting something, and right now he preferred a bad guy to his training dummy.

Felicity turned to him as she heard him approach. Their eyes met briefly before she focussed back on what she was doing. That was the only greeting necessary. He liked that, he liked that understanding between them. It was easy and honest and just not pretentious as so many other things in his life were.

And he was glad that it was still there – even after last night.

He pushed that thought away and moved to stand next to her. "What are you doing?"

"The usual. Following the money." Her eyes snapped to him. "Not that I'm usually after money. I care about other qualities in a man." Her lips twisted in annoyance in the next moment.

Oliver knew that another explanation that needed further explaining would follow, and he knew where all this came from. He just couldn't deal with this right now. Because it was a reminder that, after last night, some things HAD changed, no matter how much he told himself that this... thing... going on had no consequences at all. He needed to stop her. Motioning toward her screens he asked, "Whose money are you following?"

She took the opportunity to get back on topic and turned to her computer again, "The mobsters' who were hired to kill the Arrow, but it all makes absolutely no sense." He just looked at her, because he knew he didn't need to ask her what made no sense. She would tell him – and right then, she did, "The money trail was so easy to follow it was more a highway than a trail. A highway with road signs and traffic cameras and arrows..." She turned to look at him, "Not your kinda arrows, but the direction giving ones."

Yeah, he had got that. "So where does this highway lead?"

Her lips curved into the softest smile at him taking up her quip. But she turned away instantly and in the next moment a driver's license was showing on screen, "To Warren Davis. The director of Starling City Asylum. But his ATM card was stolen last week. He had already filed charges, before Detective Lance could question him. And I just background-checked Davis. There's nothing suspicious there. And I know what to look for by now. There are no dead relatives, no political ambitions. There's no traumatic incident in his youth, not even any hidden money. These mobsters were paid with his savings."

"He's a dead-end."

"Yes and no. He is a dead-end, but I know when and where the money was taken from his account. I was about to get into that when you came."

He nodded. "I'll leave you to that then." He looked around, "Where's Digg?"

"Getting Chinese."

"Again?"

"I love their steamed vegetables," Felicity defended, before adding a muttered, "Especially after I had another muffin for dinner..."

He had just taken a few steps away from her, when she spoke up again. "Oliver." This caused him to turn toward her. She had swiveled in her chair and was looking directly at him. "I think I owe you an apology. For last night. It wasn't nice. What I said about your mother. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that in the car. I know how hard it is for you to keep all these things from your family. You have enough stuff to worry about with a guy out there trying to kill you and-"

Strangely, the threat for his life was the only thing that didn't worry him. There was ALWAYS a guy out there trying to kill him. "Felicity," his voice was soft. "You don't owe me anything. You have every right to be angry about this situation. I'm sorry to put you through this. I will find a way to solve this without this reflecting badly on you, I promise."

She looked at him with an expression on her face he couldn't quite place before she said, "We need to talk about this. About what's going on."

He stared at her, knowing that she was right, but still not really liking it. Just because he didn't know what to say and he didn't want to let himself really think about it. It took him a moment, before he sighed, "Yes. We should."

She was about to say something when a beeping sounding from her computers kept her from actually doing so. Immediately, she swiveled back to her desk and was typing away. "There's a break-in happening right now at Starling City Central Bank." Oliver was already reaching for his suit; Felicity continued talking, "Wow, those bank robbers are not exactly subtle. There was an explosion that triggered the alarm. SCPD are already on their way." He was heading for the back when she stopped him again, "Oliver." He turned to face her, "How do we know this isn't another ploy to lure the Arrow out?"

Their eyes met. They glanced at each other in silence, and he knew what she was not saying at the moment. He dared to keep the connection for a few heartbeats longer, before he gave in to her silent plea. "There are multiple exit points. Inform Diggle, I could use back-up."

Subtle was really something different than what these guys were doing. They had blown open the front door with enough explosives that a big whole was gaping in the facade of the building. The bodies of the two dead security men were laying in the midst of the ruble and debris which were shattered over the normally posh marble floor that Oliver was now looking down on from his spot on the first floor balcony. He knew what this hall looked like filled with the rich of Starling City. Because this "Central Bank" only took the wealthiest costumers. Oliver knew. He was one of them. And he knew that the safe-deposit boxes below this very hall were richly filled by the rich of this city.

Not bothering with the stairs, he just jumped down from the balcony. Heavily, he landed on the wooden counter – african mahogany as this bank's director had told Oliver once – and made his way to where he knew the stairs leading down were. Now he moved more carefully, silently, trying to make use of the element of surprise since he had no idea what was waiting for him down there.

"SCPD has taken position at the front," Diggle informed him now. "I'm covering the back. But I checked the plans Felicity sent me. If it was me robbing this bank and I obviously liked to blow things up, I'd try to escape through the sewer running right underneath the east end of the building."

"Wow. One would think banks would try to avoid an obvious safety issue like that." Felicity had only muttered this statement but now spoke up. "The bomb must have taken out all electric circuits. All cameras inside the building are offline. I..." She hesitated and he heard unhappiness in her voice, "I have nothing."

Oliver knew she hated not having anything to contribute, but he honestly didn't need her to tell him where the robbers were. They were telling him themselves. Staying true to not so subtle form, the were loudly shouting commandos at each other. They were obviously still in the room with the safety-deposit boxes.

He heard one male voice ordering to, "Take the jewels but leave the documents. We don't need some old fart's life insurance."

This caused another men to object, "Just take it all! We have no time to check what this shit is!"

Another male added, "One minute thirty seconds."

And finally a fourth slightly more frantic voice urged to, "Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

At least four men. That was doable. Oliver headed around the corner, his bow at the ready, his knees slightly bent, his steps inaudible. Even though, it wouldn't really matter if he weren't as light-footed; the ruckus of the robbers would easily down out footsteps.

Oliver had expected to be faced with at least one man watching the hall leading to the safe-deposit boxes, but there was nobody waiting for him. With quick steps he walked to the room his targets were in and past it. He used the instant he had to look into the room. He registered the mess inside, created by blown open boxes and the insides spilled all over the floor, plus five men spread out all across the room. He also took the opportunity to take out the man who was dividing his attention between the others filling up plastic bags and the watch on his wrist. He, after all, was the one with his gun at the ready.

Oliver had reached the other side and stood with his back pressed fat against the wall next to the door, when he heard the yell of pain caused by an arrow shot through a thigh and gasps that indicated surprise as well as fear.

"Oliver, SCPD is about to enter the building." That was Felicity.

And that was his cue. He pushed himself off the wall and entered the adjoining room in the next instant. He was greeted by a machine gun spitting bullets. Oliver had seen the weapons hanging around the men's shoulders when he had scanned the room, and he had expected at least one robber to not be distracted by his accomplice's pain. But Oliver was following one surprisingly simple and effective rule: Don't give the shooter time to aim. It minimized the danger of being actually hit immensely. It was a trick that worked in nine out of ten cases, and it did work right now.

In seconds, he was behind a second robber, who took a volley of shots that had been meant for Oliver in his chest. Using the dead men as a shield – which wasn't very nice, but very effective –, Oliver pushed forward to the still shooting robber, who probably hoped to hit Oliver with a through-and-through – which also wasn't very nice and luckily until now completely ineffective. Oliver let the body drop as he was near enough to reach for the shooter. He kicked the other man's weapon away before he reached for the guy's head and slammed it into the wall behind him quickly once, twice and a third time. As the men sank to the floor, unconscious, Oliver was readying his bow again and facing the two robbers he knew were still left – and was greeted by four raised hands and a frantic, "Don't shoot!"

He didn't. Instead, he brought his fist down twice with just the right amount of force to knock them out.

"Oliver, SCPD is inside the building."

Thinking that he really didn't want to be forced to take the sewer-escape-route, Oliver took one last glance around the room – seeing one robber dead, one immobilized by wound, three unconscious – before he hurried out of there and back to the stairs. He was lucky the policemen were taking a very cautious approach, which in this case meant: slow. He had managed to head up the stairs and to hook an arrow in the high ceiling by the time they noticed him. He was speeding upwards, pulled by a rope, before they could react. He reached the first floor balcony and started running immediately. He had shot another rope-arrow and was out of a window in the next moment.

His heart was beating heavily in his chest when his feet touched the ground again. He took a moment to turn around and glance back at the building, but saw nobody at the window he had just flown out of. Time to disappear. But before he could do so he was routed to the spot by movement he had registered out of the corner of his eyes. Somebody had been on top of the building next to the bank.

"Oliver," Diggle's voice stopped his observing right there, "what are you waiting for? Get moving. Police is coming your way."

He didn't need to be told twice. "On my way."