'Fight fire with gasoline'

The very next day, Felicity walked into Oliver's office. Unlike any other day, her entrance was not accompanied by a smile or met by one, in fact neither met the others eyes as she crossed the room. Felicity kept her head resolutely up whereas Oliver looked down, pretending to read the document in his hands. It might as well be written in gibberish for all he was paying attention.

Really, he was watching Felicity from the corner of his eye. She seemed to be stalling as she walked in, the usual skip in her step replaced by a weary tread, feet hardly lifting off the ground. Her eyes were tired as if she hadn't slept, the dark eyeliner mostly hiding that they were red-rimmed, but Oliver noticed anyway. Felicity had been crying. Even her coat was black, a long one reaching down to her knees and zipped up fully – she obviously had no intention of sticking around. All of her colour was gone.

When she got to his desk, Felicity slowly pulled her Queen's Consolidated ID badge from her pocket and put it on his desk, as well as a folded letter – her official resignation. Oliver glanced up at this, but said nothing, looking down again quickly.

She expected more than that. After an awkward moment of both of them just waiting, her standing before his desk with an indignant look on her face, she broke the silence.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Felicity asked as she shook her head slightly, her voice shaking only a little, brow creased. Oliver looked up, careful to make his face still and reserved. She appeared honestly heartbroken. "After all we've been through – this is all I get? Not even a goodbye?"

"You quit, Felicity. "

"Yeah, I quit. But you pushed me to quitting," she told him, edge of anger in her tone. But mostly she was just sad. Putting two fingers to her temple and bowing her head, she calmed visibly, "it's okay, it's fine. I'm sorry."

Sinking visibly, she shoved her hands deep into her pockets and swung a few times on the spot, not able to leave it like this. Felicity watched him carefully, "I want to thank you, Oliver. You've saved my life a lot of times."

Oliver was surprised at the words. She had seemed to angry only moments before – but now she looked . . . defeated. Or maybe that was the wrong word – accepting fitted her better. Felicity was accepting the end of this. Of their team, their friendship: of them.

He nodded in return, not smiling because he knew he had to stay strong for this to work. She would be safer away from him. This was right – but maybe they didn't have to leave hating one another. "You've saved mine, too."

Felicity smiled then, the edges of her mouth twitching up, but her eyes remained shattered. It hurt him too see that look on her face and know he was the cause, all of her brightness dimmed, fading.

"We had some good times, the three of us – I won't forget that. Really. Those times meant a lot to me, I'm just sorry it had to end this way. But I just can't do it anymore – everything's changed . . . you've changed," she bit back tears, pushing forwards in a rush so she could get through this without actually crying. Felicity bit the inside of her lip. "I just can't stay anymore when I'm under constant fire. I tried so hard to do something good, Oliver, and I did. For a while, I did. But if I stay . . . I can't take it anymore: the danger and the lying and the animosity in the Foundry sometimes. It's not getting better, either. I have to do what's right for me – and get out before I break and I am so close-"

The blonde trailed off in a shaky breath, one hand going to the desk and leaning on it, hardly able to stand. She was trembling. Oliver almost leapt to his feet to comfort her and apologise for everything, mouth falling open as soon as she looked down, face set into shock. He had no idea this was affecting her so badly, the guilt wrapping around his chest and constricting tightly, the air forced from his lungs in the huffs of breath which escaped him silently. Oliver couldn't believe things had got this far.

Maybe she was better off away from him for more reasons than Slade. Maybe she was better off just without him.

When Felicity looked back up, her eyes were bright with tears but sharp; she stood straight again. "Do me one last favour, okay?" she asked, quirk returning to her voice with a shake, "Don't do the same to Diggle and Sara. Don't . . . don't push them away and leave yourself alone. You need people, Oliver. People to pull you out of this darkness and back into yourself – and I don't believe you're a bad person, not ever. I know you're just stressed and mad. But don't do it to them."

She shook her head as she turned to walk away, leaving a lot quicker than she had walked in like she couldn't wait to get out of there. He didn't blame her. The way she had said those things – it was as if she believed Diggle and Sara somehow deserved better than she did – even though she was the best of them all. Oliver frowned as he watched her back retreat. She didn't believe that, did she?

Then he realised she probably did – because he made her feel that way.

Felicity was wrong, Oliver concluded: he was a bad person. He had single handedly pushed away the best thing in his life, the only person who could make him laugh through the pain and carry the entire team to the light. But that was why he needed to do this in the first place.

Because she deserved the world. Felicity Smoak deserved to live a long, happy life and not die at the hands of Slade Wilson. Oliver knew he had to do this no matter how much he was dying inside. No matter if it meant him losing his hope. Or his heart.

So as she walked away, he held his tongue – just barely. He wanted to call her back desperately, but he didn't. He wanted to hold on to her and never let her leave, but he couldn't.

He wanted to not love her, so this was all easier and he could sleep at night. That didn't look likely to happen, either.

At the door, she stopped, hand on the handle. "Bye, Oliver. I wish you well with everything – the company and . . . the other stuff, I really do. I know you'll be able to be happy again one day."

After she was really gone, golden hair disappearing around the corner as unseen to him, tears traced their way down her face, he leaned back in his chair and tried to breathe calmly. Oliver felt his heart break just a little as he said two words he wished he never had to.

"Goodbye, Felicity."

Four days after she quit her job at Queen's Consolidated, Felicity bumped into an old friend quite literally. With her car.

Really, she should have been paying more attention to her surroundings, but for the last few days she had felt like her head was wrapped up in cotton wool. Everything was fuzzy. For years now, she had certain clarity about her life – she lived in Starling, worked at QC, she lived and breathed that city and spent her nights trying to save it. The only three places she went to were home, work and the Foundry. She worked hard, she loved her friends and her team, and aside from the odd life-endangerment and terrifying incident, she was happy.

All of that was gone now. She was kind of lost without it.

The last few days had been spent catching up on TV she had missed and trying to work out what to do next. Honestly, Felicity still had no idea. All she had was her skills with computers, but since she had spent the last few months as an 'executive assistant' most of her office suspected was sleeping with her boss for the job, Felicity doubted it would be easy for her to get another job in the city. Rumours were vicious here.

And aside from her day life . . . she missed her night life, too. Oliver had been insufferable for months, and she couldn't take him anymore – but she missed the feeling that she was doing something meaningful with her life. By taking out criminals, she had been literally saving lives, making a difference. She missed that feeling. The thrill. The hope, even, that things could get better.

Now she was spending her night alone and oblivious, like any other person in the city.

These thoughts were her main distraction as she drove out to one of the few job interviews she had been offered, so she didn't see the other car pulling out until it was too late. The brakes were slammed a fraction of a second too late, her car skidding and leaving thick, dark tire marks on the surface of the road before abruptly coming to a stop on impact.

The front of her car crunched into the trunk of the reversing one, flinging her forward in her seat, but not too harshly – she had managed to slow her car a little, and the other car was hardly moving at all. After the collision her car rocked backwards a little until it stopped. Felicity's hands locked on the steering wheel in shock, until came to her senses, quickly unbuckling her belt and attempting to free herself from the car.

It wasn't too bad. The front was slightly smashed in and the windscreen had cracked scattering glass through the car, but it could have been a lot worse. The car could be fixed in a few days.

"Oh, crap," she breathed worriedly. This time she had really messed up.

"Are you alright?" a concerned voice called out, making Felicity jump in her seat, a few shards of glass sticking into her leg as a result. She winced at that before looking up, seeing the driver of the other car running towards her. He stopped at her window, helping to hold the door open as she stepped out, legs shaking as they hit the pavement and thankful of the hand on her arm to steady her.

When she looked up to thank him, her eyes met incredibly familiar green ones under a mop of dark brown hair. She knew him. Apparently, he thought the same.

"Felicity?" the man said, face freezing before breaking out into a grin, despite the fact she had just hit him with her car. His worried tone took a lighter edge, "Felicity Smoak? Or do my eyes deceive me?"

"Ted," she answered in a laugh, her old friend instinctively moving to hug her. Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and smiled genuinely for the first time in days. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

Ted Kord leant out of the hug, his grin infectious. "And you're still trouble."

"I'm so sorry!" Felicity exclaimed, remembering the whole issue of the car crash and running a distressed though her hair, looking at the damages to both of their vehicles. "It was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going-"

"Hey, it's no problem. What are friend for if it's not to forgive the odd collision?"

"How are you laughing?" Felicity demanded, but found a smile creeping onto her face as well as he just kept grinning at her. She hit him playfully on the arm. The last few years, her life had been so consistent she had forgotten what it was like before she came here; before the team. Now she realized how much she had missed her old friends. Only Ted could come back and make her laugh like that within minutes.

"I'm not hurt – are you?" he asked, and she shook her head. She'd had a lot worse than a few scrapes and bruises over the past months. Ted's gaze scrutinised her for a moment before he too came to the conclusion that she would be fine and nodded to himself, going on, "And cars can be fixed. If you hadn't have hit me, I would never have seen you. It seems like a good compromise to me."

"But I am screwed with my insurance," Felicity grumbled under her breath, making him laugh again, "bad time for me to have quit my job, huh?"

"You quit?" Ted perked up at the prospect, "you were working for Queen Consolidated, right? I read something about you being Oliver's Queen's PA?"

He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what that was all about. Felicity rolled her eyes in response, "that's executive assistant."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. But you're not anymore?"

"As of four days ago, no."

"Huh," Ted huffed out a breath, seeming to consider something for a moment, eyes unfocused, before he turned to her with another dazzling grin. "How'd you like to come and work for me at Kord Industries? Our R&D department always has a place for you."

"I- what?"

At her shocked face, he offered her his arm, bent at the elbow for her to take. "Come on, for friends I have a rather relaxed job interviewing technique – it's called getting coffee and catching up. What do you say?"

"That we can't just leave our cars like this," Felicity replied.

Ted pouted, "Then let's get them parked! Repairs can wait – this can't."

"Ted, wait!" Felicity called, but he had already run over to his car like a big kid and jumped in, pulling it into the space he had been trying to leave when she hit him. Exasperated, Felicity let of another half-laugh as she did the same, parking a few spaces down easily, although their wrecked cars were causing a lot of attention now.

Ted Kord really hadn't changed at all. I was nice that someone in her life hadn't.

They had met back in college, bumping into one another despite being on different courses, introduced by friends at various parties and all hanging out because they were deemed the 'nerds' on the computers and maths programs. Back then, he had been the smartest person she had ever met – and simultaneously the biggest dork on campus.

Ted could have been brilliant if he put his mind to better things, but in those days 90% of his thoughts were either dumb jokes or whatever prank they would pull next.

Because oh yes, their group of friends pulled the best pranks on campus. Brains beat brawn in the war of mischief. There was no way a group of engineering students, computer techies and maths whizzes would fail to construct the most elaborate, well-thought out pranks ever. Everyone knew it had to be them, but then again, they were never dumb enough to get caught either. The five blown-up dumpsters, multiple computer viruses and the famous Halloween incident was proof of their success.

It had been one of the happiest times of Felicity's life. She had been revelling in the freedom of being away from her mother and taking control of her life, actually learning something she loved and laughing with real friends – she'd forgotten how much she missed it.

Of course, she had been happy in Starling, too. At the start it was perfect. But now . . .

For a second as she pulled the handbrake to park, she remembered why she had been distracted in the first place, her guts hollowing out with a sickening feeling that something was missing. Oliver. Fortunately, all it took was Ted appearing at her window, knocking it and telling her to hurry up to fill it with laughter again.

It was time to catch up with an old, good friend.

Oliver was in the Foundry when an alert beeped on the computer. Halfway up the salmon ladder, he looked down to Sara, who was in the seat which had once been Felicity's. "What's that?"

"I don't know," she replied frostily, not even glancing up in his direction. Oliver sighed. Sara was out of hospital, but was mighty pissed when she heard Felicity had quit – even more so when Diggle told her the truth about what Oliver had done. She barely spoke to him these days. "It says something about a collision."

"Who's car?" Oliver asked worriedly. A year ago, he had installed monitors in all of their cars, so the others would be alerted if one of them was involved in an accident.

"Felicity's. What does it mean?"

"Oh God," Oliver breathed, dropping to the floor and ignoring the jolt of pain in his ankle. Grabbing his hood, he jerked it roughly over his head and grabbed his bow, heading for the door in seconds. Sara was calling after him, but he drowned everything out but the facts – Felicity's car had crashed. She could be hurt. He had to get there fast.

Running across the rooftops, Oliver never faltered. Even if he landed heavily or stumbled, he fought to remain upright and keep moving, heart rate increasing with more than exercise – it was fear. With the breakneck pace he was pushing himself at, he was at the scene in eight minutes.

What he saw surprised him.

Felicity's car was damaged at the front. The hood was cracked and caved in, windshield shattered. There was another car with the trunk broken and hanging off, but both cars were calmly parked and abandoned – then he saw Felicity walking calmly away.

The relief hit him like a tsunami, forget wave. He moved quietly across a few rooftops to get a good look at her: the ponytail she had wore her hair up in was messy now strands hanging lose around her face and there were a few cuts on her hands and one above her eyebrow, but she didn't appear injured in any other way.

The most confusing thing was her smile.

For the last few days, Oliver had kept tabs on her, still worried she was a target despite his new detachment from her. She had spent a lot of time crying, then just staring at walls like she didn't know what to do, going through the motions of living without any emotion. He hadn't seen her smile in days: but she was now. Red lips moved freely as she talked animatedly, moving her hands excitedly and actually laughing, peals of joyful sound reaching his ears all the way up on the rooftop.

Frowning, Oliver looked at who she was talking to. The man walking beside her was listening with a small smirk on his face, watching Felicity with humour and genuine interest to what she was saying, hands carelessly thrown in his expensive suit pockets and looking unharmed. He had a shock of dark hair, and where he wasn't typically attractive, with a more normal, nerdy look bout him, the man's strong, athletic figure could be seen even through the stylish cut of his suit, and his smile was bright and friendly.

Oliver told himself he wasn't jealous, but his stomach roared in protest at that, churning and wanting to go and either interrogate that man about who the hell he was or punch him in the face. It was completely irrational and he had no right to feel that way, but liver's hands tightened on the bow until his knuckles were white anyway, his lips tightening in anger.

The two just seemed so comfortable with one another. Even as he watched, Felicity laughed at something the man said and put a hand on his arm, the touch innocent but making Oliver want to throw up. They looked at each other as they laughed, ducking into a warm coffee shop a moment later.

When they disappeared, Oliver knew he should leave. Felicity was obviously more than fine - in fact she was better than he'd seen her in ages, and there seemed to be nothing suspicious about the crash. He shouldn't interfere. But the man appeared familiar somehow, like he had seen his face before . . .

It took a few minutes for it to click: Kord Industries. They had investigated it after the incident with Clock King, finding out it was recently put under the management of the previous owner's son, a young genius who wanted to rebuild the company. Oliver had met him briefly at some charity events, but was usually too distracted for anyone to make a real impression. He vaguely remembered that the man had piercing green eyes which seemed to scan the room and always seemed to be calculating something or another.

It was almost the same way he was. Of course, Oliver was usually scanning a room for threats; he doubted Kord was. More likely looking to see whether people were worth his time.

"Sara?" Oliver asked over the comms, determined to at least check this guy out, for purely protective reasons, "I need you to get me everything we have on Theodore Kord."

A/N: I hope you're enjoying this story! Now we get to the crossover: Ted is here. And Oh God do I miss him in DC comics. Please follow/review!