Felicity stepped down from the bus and gazed up in wonderment at Star Lab's wavelike glass exterior. The walls seemed to wink in the autumn sunshine, mirroring Felicity's own giddy excitement. She felt like someone had injected poprocks straight into her veins. Although, she supposed, that could also be the three cups of coffee she downed on her way out the door that morning.

Oliver hopped down beside her just as a gust of cold wind swept across the parking lot. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his navy pea coat and tilted his head back to gaze up at the building. "Excited?" he asked. Felicity resisted the urge to do a little happy dance. "Not at all," she said cheerily. "Whatever gave you that idea?" They smiled at each other for a moment before a droll voice behind them said, "We get it; you're both pretty to look at. Now if you wouldn't mind, the rest of us would like to get off this godforsaken deathtrap."

"Sorry, Professor." Oliver grinned and tugged Felicity out of the way so that Professor Taylor, Pembroke's Latin professor and the field trip chaperone, could get off the bus. Taylor had spent most of the ride into the city clutching the seat in front of her and moaning softly ever time the bus went around a curve. She was still a bit green in the face.

A tour guide in a red Star Labs polo met the Pembroke group in the lobby. She explained that the research done at this particular facility was largely devoted theoretical technologies: psionics, miniaturization, teleportation, extraterrestrial research, among others. A lanky kid with a shock of blonde hair the same shade as duckling fur, raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a load of science fiction crap if you ask me."

"Would you say the same about space travel, organ transplantation, or nuclear technology?" The tour guide seemed to be trying very hard not to roll her eyes. "Until very recently in human history all three were considered improbable, if not utterly impossible. Yet, as Isaac Asimov once said, today's science fiction is tomorrow's science fact. At Star Labs we aim to bridge the gap between the two." She clapped her hands. "Now if you'll follow me, we're going to start with the psionics lab." The duckling-haired kid sniffed and crossed his arms. "That's not the same thing," he muttered while his friends jabbed him in the ribs and laughed. "It's not!"

Felicity had spent a large portion of her childhood being told she had a very vivid imagination. Yet nothing her mind had conjured up rivaled the reality of Star Labs. The state of the art facility was just as sleek inside as it was out: light flooded in through the high windowed ceilings and slid across polished countertops cluttered with burets and beakers and microscopes, all of it glittering like a crystalline treasure trove. White coated scientists bustled in and out of the labs, every now and then pausing to input data into razor thin computers. Their tour guide ushered the Pembroke group from one room to another, pointing out the most exciting things in each one.

Oliver and Felicity trailed behind the rest of the group, mostly because Felicity kept stopping every few feet to ogle. She couldn't help noticing that Oliver seemed more interested in watching her reactions than in the actual technology itself. She momentarily wondered why he had decided to come on the trip in the first place when, as far as she could tell, theoretical technology was not exactly one his primary interests. However, she was quickly distracted by a teleportation simulator and the thought flitted away, unfinished.
Sometime later, as their tour guide shepherded the group from the biometrics lab to the nanotechnology lab, they passed by a nondescript hallway. Oliver grabbed Felicity's hand and pulled her down it.

"Oliver," she gasped, "what're you—"

"Shh"—pressing a finger to Felicity's lips, Oliver poked his head around the corner. Satisfied that the group had gone on without them Oliver turned back to her. His finger fell away, but its warmth was tattooed onto her lips.

"I want to show you something," Oliver said.

"Usually I'm the one making innuendos," Felicity said breathlessly. Her back was pressed up to the wall, Oliver's body hemming her in. Heat radiated off his body and into hers. Felicity swallowed, forcing herself to resist the urge to smooth her hand across the flat planes of his chest. The corner of Oliver's mouth twitched.

"Not that."

Felicity shook her head, as much to clear the away the fog that had settled over her brain as to disagree. "Mm, no. I want to see the nanotech printer."

"Felicity, this is better than a nanotech printer."

Felicity snorted. "What could be better than a nanotech printer?"

Oliver raised one eyebrow. "You'll have to wait and see." His gaze burned straight through her, the same color and intensity as the center of a flame. Felicity resisted the urge to shudder beneath the weight of it.

Curiosity crept up her spine and poked its head over her shoulder, whispering cajolingly into her ear. "Ugh, fine," Felicity said. "But if I'm going to miss the nanotechnology lab this had better be good!"

Unlike the rest of the facility, the hallway was windowless, although every now and then they passed by an unlabeled door. Eventually the floor began to slope downward. The only sound was the low hum of air flushing through the ventilation system above their heads.

"Oliver," Felicity said after a few minutes, "I really don't think we're supposed to be down here." She was beginning to regret letting him tear her away from the group. The hallway seemed to go on forever, occasionally winding this way or that but never coming to an end. How many labs was she missing out on while they skulked around down here? She was about to insist they go back so she could see the damn nanotech printer when the hallway swung sharply to the left and came to an abrupt stop at a door emblazed with the words "Authorized Personnel Only." A small black security box blinked demurely by the door handle.

"I stand corrected" Felicity said, "we're definitely not supposed to be down here."

Ignoring her, Oliver reached into his back pocket and pulled out a Star Labs identification card. If the photo was anything to go by, it belonged to woman with curly red hair and horn rimmed glasses.

"Um, unless you've had some work done recently I'm pretty sure that's not yours," Felicity said. "Where did you get it?"

"Found it," Oliver said, though the tiny smile dancing around the corner of his mouth told her otherwise. He tapped the card against the security pad; there was a soft click and the door swung open. Oliver glanced over his shoulder at Felicity. "You coming?" His voice lingered in the hallway as he disappeared through the door.

"Ooh, this is such a bad idea." Yet somehow standing in the hallway alone felt worse than doing the prohibited thing. Felicity pushed through the door after him. Her mouth dropped open. Whatever she had been expecting it wasn't this. She was standing on a glass observation deck. Digital work stations lined the walls and down below—

Felicity's heart fluttered against her chest as the realization sunk in. She glanced at Oliver. "Is that—?"

"A particle accelerator?" He nodded. "I thought you'd like to see it but it's not exactly on the general tour so—"

Felicity floated over to the glass and pressed her hands up against it. "Like to see it?" she murmured. "I might die. Of happiness, I mean," she added quickly. "That's a real thing, you know: I read about this man in California—he was 29, really fit, ran every day, always ate his vegetables. Then he won the lottery and he was just so happy—poof. Dead as a door nail." She sucked down a deep breath. This was quite possibly the best day of her life. She said so. Smiling, Oliver moved to stand beside her at the window. "Felicity—" There was an uncharacteristic hesitancy in his voice—"I need to tell you something. I—"

Before he could finish there was a hiss and a click and door to the hallway swung open once more and a tall, dark haired scientist in a white coat walked onto the observation deck. He was looking down at his tablet and for a moment he didn't notice them. Felicity froze, like a deer in headlights. We are so screwed.

Then, for the second time in five minutes, Felicity's mouth dropped open. The longer the man stood there, the more familiar he'd looked and suddenly she had realized why; his face had been all over every issue of every Technology Today Felicity had received since her mom had ordered her the subscription for Hanukkah three years ago. "Harrison Wells." She gaped. "You're Harrison Wells." At the sound of his name Wells looked up, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the two teenagers.

"Hey, you're not supposed to down here!"

Oliver grabbed Felicity by the hand and pulled her toward the door. "Whoops, sorry, sir," he said. "Got lost looking for the cafeteria. It was my fault—" he gestured to Felicity—"she kept telling me to stop and ask for directions but you know us men, gotta do everything ourselves."

"Oliver," Felicity said stupidly, "that's Harrison Wells!"

"It's not polite to stare. Come on, Felicity."

Before Wells could call security or do whatever else he was going to do, Oliver had tugged Felicity though the door, and then they were running—up the sloping floor, past all the unmarked doors, a stitch blossoming just below Felicity's breasts. The hallway seemed much shorter on the way out than it had on the way in. Soon they burst back into the main corridor and even then they didn't stop until, by some stroke of luck, they turned a corner and ran smack into the tail end of the Pembroke group just as Professor Taylor was finishing a headcount.

"Where've you two been?" Professor Taylor demanded. "Don't think I didn't see you sneak off." Felicity winced. Okay, maybe they weren't so lucky after all.

Oliver and Felicity glanced at each other. Felicity's heart was still pounding anxiously against her ribcage "We had to go to the bathroom," she blurted.

Professor Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Both of you?"

"Uh, yeah. Really bad diarrhea." Felicity flushed. "I mean not diarrhea." She searched for another excuse. "Menstrual cramps!"

"Menstrual cramps." Professor Taylor looked pointedly at Oliver. "The both of you." The other students tittered softly behind her.

The professor looked from one of them to the other, when neither spoke she sighed deeply, as though seriously reconsidering her career choice. "The quality of youth excuses has seriously degraded in the past few decades. But you know what? I'm not paid enough to care. So just stay with the group from now on, okay?"

Felicity nodded emphatically, her cheeks burning. Oliver just grinned.

"If either of you need a maxi pad during the rest of the day, just give me a yell," Taylor added sarcastically, before heading back to the front of the group.

Despite the somewhat disastrous end to their adventure, Felicity floated up to her hotel room that night in a happy daze. She had been to Star Labs, seen a particle accelerator, and met (in a very loose interpretation of the term) her idol, Harrison Wells. All in all, not a bad day.

Oliver had disappeared immediately after dinner, claiming he had promised to meet up with his mom while he was in the city and after a while Felicity hadn't felt like hanging out in the lobby with the other kids. Duckling-Hair in particular was getting on her nerves.

In typical Pembroke style, all the students had been assigned their own hotel room. It seemed like an immense luxury to Felicity, but she wasn't going to complain. She let herself into her room and headed straight for the bathroom. She'd been freezing all day and what she wanted more than anything was a nice, hot shower.

It was the right choice. Felicity could feel the tension unwind from her shoulder as the water pounded onto them, steam fogging up the bathroom. She stayed in until her fingers began to prune (if she'd been at home in Las Vegas the hot water would have run out long ago), then stepped out and pulled an immense, fluffy white robe down from the towel rod. A contented sigh slipped from her lips as she wrapped the robe loosely around her torso; it felt like slipping on a cloud.

Cold air rushed over Felicity's damp skin as she stepped out of the bathroom. It was freezing in the main room. She quickly realized why: the window was open, the gauzy curtains floating an inch above the sill in the night breeze. Felicity hovered by the bed, water dripping in a halo around her feet. She could have sworn the window had been closed when she came in. Maybe a maid had come in while she was in the shower and opened it for some reason? A cold gust of air swept into the room, dancing the curtains and sending a violent shiver down Felicity's spine.

Goosebumps popped like constellations along her arms as she crossed to the window. She lifted her arms, intending to yank it shut. As she did, her eyes fell on a stain at the corner of the windowsill. It was dark, reddish-brown. It looked disturbingly like—

Someone wheezed softly behind her. Felicity spun around.

The Starling Vigilant lay on the floor alongside the edge of her bed. Blood leaked from a small hole in the leathers over his shoulder, picking out crimson spots on the carpet beneath him.

Felicity tried to swallow but her throat was suddenly drier than the Las Vegas desert.

"Don't move," she croaked. "I'm calling the police." Her hand scrabbled for her cellphone only for her to remember it was still in the back pocket of her jeans, which were lying in a pile on the bathroom floor. Of course it was. Panicking, Felicity's eyes flitted around the room for something she could use as a weapon.

Seeming to sense her thought process, the vigilante struggled up onto his elbow. "Felicity," he grunted. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Felicity's heart slowed its pounding just a fraction of a beat. "How do you know my name?"

The vigilante shoved back his hood. His hair was nearly black with sweat and blood, his face stained with paint grease and contorted in pain. Yet there was no mistaking him—

For the third time that day, Felicity's mouth dropped open.

"Oliver?"