She was going to throw up. She knew she had been saying that all day but it was happening and it was happening soon. She hoped it wouldn't be outside the prison. She looked at Oliver in the rear view mirror. He was sitting in the back seat and looked far off in space. She didn't want to admit she was jealous, no that boiling feeling in her stomach was way past the little food she had had and was bordering on seething anger. Isabel?! Over sixty four million women over the age of consent in Russia and he had to sleep with her?

"What? So we're not doing the 'What happens in Russia stays in Russia' thing," he asked.

Had she said that out loud? Frack. "We're still in Russia," she ground out.

Anontoly climbed back into the front seat of the truck cutting off further conversation. "There is nothing money cannot buy in this country," he said while he glanced at her.

"Diggle should be heading out with Lyla in two minutes," said Oliver.

"Breaking out of prison is harder than it looks, you of all people should know that," said Anontoly as the truck started to move. "Ms. Smoak, I'm surprised to find a woman of your caliber involved in this."

"Diggle is my family, I would do anything for him."

"You are a brave woman. Different from anyone I've ever met."

"So I've been told," she mumbled thinking back on Mathis's words to her.

"You are Oliver's family too." It was a statement not a question. "That makes you my second favorite American."

"I thought Digg was your second favorite?" Oliver piped up from behind.

"He got bumped down when I met this beautiful woman." She saw Oliver turn his head and smirk. "If you ever need anything or just want to leave this идиот behind I'm sure I could find room for a smart computer hacker..."

"Anaotoly." Oliver warned.

"Just making sure she knows her options. Many a Russian man would be eternally grateful to be in the presence of such a woman as she."

Words flew from Oliver's mouth in rapid fire Russian she couldn't understand. "Она оставляет со мной. Ни один человек не возложит на нее руку. Она моя. Понял?"

'She leaves with me. No man will lay a hand on her. She is mine. Understood?'

"Расслабьтесь,я просто,как вы говорите,в Америке,шутит," Anontoly replied.

'Relax, I'm just, as you say in America, joking. Though I'm not lying when I say she is an amazing woman. You must do everything to keep her.'

Oliver sends Anontoly a dark look and climbs out of the truck. What was that about? A few minutes later people are yelling and the back door of the truck flies open. Deadshot, Lyla, Digg and Oliver all climb inside. Bullets spray against the back as Oliver yells at Anontoly to drive. She puts her head down near her knees until the sounds of bullets sinking into the metal of the truck were gone. "Is everyone okay?" she asks. Digg looked okay, though he was bloodied and bruised the same as Lyla. He was holding onto her and checking her for injuries. Oliver seemed to be fine too. She did't really care about Deadshot. No place was punishment enough for what he had done.

"We are clear," Anontoly confirms as the truck pulls into a underpass.

"Stop the truck," Diggle says and turns to look at Lawton. "Get out," he yells.

Diggle guides him in front of the truck at gunpoint. She can't hear what they're saying but she can see John's hands shaking. She knows that if he kills him it won't change anything, it won't bring Andy back. But this was his decision, he had to make the choice what was right on his own. Bile crept it way back up her throat and she tried to swallow it down. Diggle started yelling and waving the gun at Lawton, her heart sped up and suddenly the vomit wasn't at the back of her throat anymore. She threw the truck door open and fell out and ran to a patch of grass by the side of the overpass where she proceeded to lose the little bit of food she had eaten that day. When she was finished her throat was raw and tears were rolling down her face. Diggle was soon at her side. "Felicity?" She placed her hand on the cement wall and lifted her other hand up at Digg.

"Just give me a minute." She stood there for a moment and let the waves of nausea pass by breathing in the cold air. She took a deep breath and walked towards Diggle. "What happened to Lawton?"

"Let him go. Killing him wouldn't have changed what happened to Andy." She nodded.
"Are you okay?" She shook her head.

"I just want to go home."

"That can be arranged," he said as he put his arm around her shoulders and led her back to the truck and helped her in.

"Felicity? Are you okay?" Oliver asked from the backseat. She waved her hand at him already tired of the question and laid her head against the cool glass of the window.
Hopefully whatever was wrong with her was just a twenty four hour thing. She didn't know how much more of it she could take. She'd be glad to just get home and sleep in her own bed and walk around her own house without fear of seeing Oliver making out with Isabel when she opened a door. They boarded the plane and the return flight was made much the same as the first except she had to avoid evil glares from Isabel and she didn't sleep the whole way.

She just didn't care anymore. She could think whatever she wanted to think. The way she felt if she heard one ill word from her she would explode. Felicity was the first one off the plane, only sparing Oliver and Digg a glance before she moved to get in the cab she had scheduled to pick her up. She could tell Diggle needed time alone with Lyla. He didn't need to be playing chiefer to her and Oliver. Isabel had her own car so she had left too. Lyla had thanked them profusely and Felicity had just clasped her hand and told her she was glad she was home. She hugged Digg and said a quiet 'See you later' to Oliver.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she started to walk towards the cab him trailing behind her.

"Home. All the excitement has wore me out."

"Felicity, are you okay?" She sighed.

"Yes Oliver, I'm fine. I was just sick with the flu or something."

"Besides that?" She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She shook her head.

"Why her? I mean besides the obvious leggy model reason." Had she really said that?

"It just kinda happened...It didn't mean anything." She closed her eyes. If only he knew how much it did mean something...to her it was the worst thing imaginable. But he couldn't know that. "Hey," he called and she looked up at him. "Because of the life that I lead... I just think that it's better to not be with someone I could really care about."

Tears stung the back of her eyes but she forced them back and moved to lift her suitcase into the cabs trunk but Oliver took the bag from her and put it in easily. She started to turn away, away from him, away from his excuses but she couldn't just leave without telling him what she thought. He deserved better than Isabel. His self worth was at an all time low and she couldn't let him believe that all he deserved was a one night stand with a heartless businesswoman. He deserved someone to love him, to hold him when he was hurting, tend his injuries, be his voice of reason, tease him, someone to tell him everyday that he was worth it. Because he was and until he realized that he would never be happy.

She climbed into the cab and had to keep herself from turning around to look where she'd know she'd find him watching as the car drove away.

He was worried about Felicity. She had been acting strange for the past few weeks and these last three days were no exception. When she had climbed out of the truck and gotten sick he had moved to follow her but Lyla had placed a hand on his arm and told him to 'give her a minute'. A few minutes later Diggle had helped her back into the truck. "Felicity, are you okay?" She had just waved her hand at him and laid her head against the window. What was wrong with her? Should he find a Doctor? When they got back to the hotel to change and pack to return home he had asked her as much but she had said she was fine and that all she needed was a couple of days of sleep, some chicken broth and a hot bath, all in that order and that she would be fine. He trusted her so he had let it go for then.

The plane flight had been a quiet one. Lyla and Diggle had sat next to each other talking in hushed tones. Felicity had went to the back of the jet and was playing on her tablet and Isabel was flipping through files with a scowl on her face. He had tried to talk to her, to put their business relationship back in order but after an hour of stilted conversation he had moved to his seat and stared out the window. That was until Felicity had handed him a stack of files and said 'sign wherever you see a red X.' and returned to her seat.

He had finished the files and stood up to hand them back to her when he saw she was asleep. He had put the files in her bag on the floor and not caring what Isabel thought grabbed the red blanket and draped it softly over her sleeping form. She shifted but didn't wake, only fisted the blanket in her small hand and pulled it up to her nose. He couldn't help the small smile that had played on his lips as he watched her. She was beautiful in her sleep, nothing dimming her light. She was so small, innocent and trusting. He found himself lucky that she trusted him with her life and he hoped that her trust wasn't misplaced. He would do anything to protect her but that didn't mean he would always succeed. That thought alone is what made him walk back to his seat. All he brought to her was danger. He had stared out the window in thought the rest of the flight. He couldn't help but notice Felicity was the first one off the jet. Isabel was the second. Felicity retrieved her bags from on of the pilots and had sat them on the ground and had talked to Digg and Lyla for a few moments before turning to him and saying "See you later." He looked up to notice the waiting cab. Wasn't she riding home with him?

"Where are you going?" he had asked as he followed her to the waiting car.

"Home. All the excitement has wore me out." She looked tired and she was pale. He wondered if she had gotten sick anymore. He had seen Digg trying to give her a pack of crackers but she had just scrunched her nose and shook her head at him. She had barely eaten why they were away and had lost most of what she had. She must be hungry now.

"Felicity, are you okay?" He knew the real answer to that question just as much as he knew how she would reply to him.

"Yes Oliver, I'm fine. I was just sick with the flu or something." She wasn't okay. Something was going on with her and she wasn't telling him. That's why he forced the topic. He had to know that she was okay.

"Besides that..." he said and watched her jerk her eyes away from his and shake her head, mouth hanging open and nothing coming out.

"Why her?" She finally asked. "I mean besides the obvious leggy model reason." He didn't correct her. Better for her to believe that he had slept with Isabel. Maybe then she would finally see him for who he was. He was bad for her and he wanted her to see that. He hated lying to her, even by omission it was something he just could not do. He vowed this would be the last time and that he was only doing it to protect her.

The next words that fell from his mouth he would come to regret for a very long time. "Because of the life that I lead... I just think that's it better to not be with someone I could really care about." He hoped he conveyed to her just who that someone was. She had to know he cared about her, she just didn't know how deep and for that he was thankful. Because if she knew he might cross the line he had so carefully drawn. His heart broke a little at the look in her eyes. She nodded and started to turn away from him and his eyes closed in pain. He heard her turn back and opened his eyes.

"Well I think," she hesitated a moment choosing her words. "I think you deserve better than her."

That floored him. Even after everything she still believed in him and wanted the best for him. How did she do it? Still treat him like he wasn't a complete waste after all he had done to her. He called himself every kind of fool, he had underestimated her yet again. All he could do was stare as she climbed in the cab and drove away, not turning to look back once.

As soon as she was inside the door she kicked her shoes off and sat down hard on the couch. She knew she needed to eat something but she had a feeling she would just throw it up again. She unpacked her clothes, took a shower and then decided to catch up on her shows she had missed. She fell asleep midway through her third episode of Supernatural and when she woke up again the clock read 1:45 am. She padded to her bedroom and climbed between the cold sheets and turned on her side. She look at the empty side of the bed and couldn't help but reach and lay her hand across it. She felt so alone. What was with her? She had lived by herself for five years and never in all that time had she had craved a companion as much as she did just then. Maybe she should get a fish? No, probably wouldn't live long anyways and she couldn't stand the thought of killing something. She stared at the ceiling for awhile until her stomach rumbled. She felt okay now so she decided she would try to eat something. She had some chicken soup in the pantry so she microwaved it and sat down at the bar to eat as much as she could but ended up eating it all. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. After she sat her bowl in the sink she went and climbed back in bed and dreamed about getting married. Even if she had been under oath she never would have admitted that it was a man with dark blonde hair and blue eyes at the end of the aisle.

Her eyes flew open and she barely had time to stumble out of her bed and into her bathroom before her late night dinner made it's reappearance and boy it sure didn't taste as good coming up as it did going down. She sat on the cool tile floor and heaved until there was nothing left and then leaned against the wall weak and shaky. She pushed her hair out of her face and grabbed a wash towel and wiped her mouth. Why was she still sick? Maybe it was just this pesky flu still hanging on. She had been gone three days and she knew the phone messages were probably piling up at QC, so she had to go to work today. "Ugh I hate this," she groaned. "I hate Monday's, I hate chicken soup, I hate Russia... not the people or the country just what happened in Russia." she groaned again. "I really need to stop taking to myself." She crawled on the floor until she got to the cabinet where she kept all her toiletries and medicine. The cabinet was cluttered, a victim of nights spent on vigilante duty. She shuffled through a few baskets in search of the nausea medicine she kept on hand. She had always wanted to be prepared for anything and had made a 'multible illnesses' basket but over the years it had just turned into a place to throw random things when she was in a hurry. "Where is it," she said as she dug through another container. "Ah, here it is." She had started to pull the box from the bottom of a pile when another box caught her eye. Midol. Her eyebrows scrunched together. Wait...when was her last period? Had she even had it this month? She ran to her room and grabbed her calender. She was late. Way late.

"No, no, no," she muttered as ran her hands through her hair frantically. There was a logical answer to what was going on with her. Because no way was she... No. She wasn't...she wasn't...she couldn't even think the word. She took a deep breath and tried to slow her heart that seemed to want to gallop out of her chest. Her phone rang on her nightstand causing her to jump. It was Digg. She took a deep breath and hoped her voice came out normal. "Hey Digg. What's up?"

"Nothing just calling to check on you."

"I'm good, I'm just...," she glanced at her messy bathroom floor. "Cleaning out my cabinets." That wasn't a lie. "Digg, I don't think I'm going to come into work today. If you talk to Oliver would you mind telling him?"

"Sure...I thought you were fine?"

"Oh I am, I'm still not feeling the greatest. I don't want to go to the office and spread my germs."

"That makes sense. But why don't you just talk to Oliver yourself?" She looked at the box of Midol on this bed. "Are you guys not talking? I noticed you didn't say much to each other when we got back. Did something happen in Russia?"

She cleared her throat. "No, of course not. We're fine, I just thought you could relay the message." Another wave of nausea overcame her. "Listen Digg I need to go."

"Okay...call me if you need anything." She didn't even say anything only hung up and ran to the bathroom. She thought she didn't have anything left in her, turns out she was wrong, very wrong.

A hour later she found herself walking through the aisle of the drug store sipping on a bottle of Gatorade. She found the sign that said Women's Health but couldn't get herself to walk down the aisle. She took a deep breath and forced herself down the aisle to the pregnancy test. There, she had finally thought the word. She stood there for a few minutes having no idea what she was doing, she was lost in thought when a voice interrupted her internal panic. "I'm guessing its your first?" She jerked her head to look at the petite brunette woman. "I recognize the look, it's the same one I had when I stood in this aisle three years ago." Felicity opened her mouth but nothing came out. She didn't have words. What was happening to her? "It's okay, it can be overwhelming. Here," said the brunette as she grabbed a test off the shelf. "This one is the most accurate."

"Thanks," she finally chokes out.

"No problem, I only wish there had been someone to help me too." She grabbed another test from the shelf. "My husband and I have been trying to for our second. And if the craving for sardines is any indication I think we may have succeeded.

"Congratulations," she said.

"Thank you, I'm Lacey Conway," Lacey held out her hand and Felicity shook it.

"Felicity...Smoak."

"Nice to meet you Felicity. I hope you get good results," she said as she started to walk away. Felicity nodded slowly not knowing what to say so she turned back to the test. "Oh and Felicity?" She turned to her again where she stood at the end of the aisle. Lacey glanced at her Gatorade bottle. "Try peanut butter." She looked at her confused. "It taste the same going down as it does coming up," she says and waves her hand in farewell.

Felicity takes another deep breath and grabs two more of the tests off the shelf and rushes to the counter lest anyone see her. She paid and was back at her house and standing in front of her sink in less than thirty minutes with the three test laid out in front of her on the counter. She set the timer on her phone and stood there fore a few moments. "I can't do this," she said aloud as she started pacing up and down the hallway. She tried sitting on the couch and playing on her tablet but not even Candy Crush could hold her attention. Her eyes kept straying to the timer and she felt like she was going to explode from sheer anxiety.

What if she was pregnant? What would she do? She couldn't tell Oliver he was the father. Oh no that would be a disaster. Oh and what the tabloids would say about her, what they would say about him! She could see it splashing across the headline, "Oliver Queens Secretary is pregnant with his child Just how long has he been chasing Felicity Smoak around his desk?" She grabbed a pillow and screamed into it.

Maybe she was just overreacting, she was late because of stress or a hormonal imbalance, and she was throwing up because she had a flu or something. That's what she told herself until the timer went off making her face reality sooner than she would have liked. She had to keep herself from running into the room. So when she patiently walked into the bathroom she approached the counter like it was a tiger ready to eat her alive.
Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be Will Be.) Was she really quoting a Dorris Day song?

She closed her eyes and walked toward the counter, when her knees came in contact with the cabinet she took a final breath, looked down and opened her eyes... to three positive pregnancy tests.