Felicity stared at the strange man who was in her house, frowning at him.

Your father, Felicity. Your father sent me.

That sentence was ringing inside her head, over and over again. Her father. She'd laughed in this man's face, told him he had the wrong person but then that stupid nickname her father had always called her had come out of his mouth and she'd known he was telling the truth. So, she'd let him in and now they were standing in the living room, her back to the door so she could bolt for the it if it became necessary. Her jacket was still on, allowing her easy access to the taser in her pocket but she really hoped she didn't need.

"We should really get a move on before they set things in motion. Your father—"

"My father?" She snorted. "He has no say in my life. He has no right to send someone here to tell me what to do. In fact, I have no idea how the hell he found me but his presence is definitely not welcome in my life."

"I don't know anything about your relationship with your father. The only thing he told me was that you would be reluctant to believe that he sent me." He looked like this was the last conversation he wanted to be having and she almost felt bad for him. Almost.

"Look—" she stopped, realizing she didn't know his name. "What's your name? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I want to know."

He narrowed his dark eyes at her. "It's Owen. We really should—"

"Look, Owen," she cut him off. "I want nothing to do with this. I am staying in Starling City and that's not changing. Besides, you haven't even told me what I'm in danger from exactly."

He grunted. "You know that most people who are told their lives are in danger would listen to people who are trying to help them."

"Well, first, I don't think that's true and second, I'm not most people. I don't know you or my father and you didn't answer my question."

"I didn't realize you'd asked a question."

This guy was starting to irritate her. "Who's after me?"

He moved past her, taking a seat on her couch and propping his feet on her coffee table. She stared at him incredulously until he rolled his eyes and put his feet back on the floor. "The Cassavette family has a target on your back."

Her stomach rolled but she wasn't all that surprised. She'd been expecting something. She sank down on the opposite end of the couch. "Why?"

"Because you work with the Arrow."

"How do they know that?"

"Someone's been following you."

"Why?"

"What are you? Three? Enough with the questions! I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation," he snapped at her. "There is a storm brewing and you are right in the middle of it." He stood up and stared down at her. "Are you always this difficult? Or do you think you're invincible because of your connection to the Arrow? Because that's the exact thing that is going to get you killed."

"How is my father connected to the Cassavette's?"

A sharp bark of laughter erupted from his throat. "What does it matter?"

She pushed off the couch, angry. "You're right. It doesn't matter because I don't care what he has to say." She stormed over to the door and yanked it open. "You can leave."

He shook his head, lip curling up. "Fine. Have it your way." He stopped in the doorway, leaning in closer to her. "I wouldn't stay here though. It didn't take me long to find you, I'm sure Cassavette's guys aren't far behind."

She said nothing, staring him down, hoping he couldn't see how scared she really was. She arched an eyebrow and tapped her foot, once, impatient. Owen shook his head and mumbled something about it being her funeral before finally walking out the door. She shut the door, locking the doorknob, the dead bolt and the chain lock, her hand shaking more violently with each lock. She turned, her back leaning against the door for support, and tried to take deep calming breaths. Slowly, she slid down the door until she was on the floor, arms wrapped around her legs, trying to physically hold herself together.

Her father. She couldn't even begin to wrap her mind around it, she hadn't seen or heard from the man since she was six and he had the nerve to send someone here to whisk her out of the city. Two sides of her were warring, one part furious at the man who abandoned her and the other was anxious, yet excited. She'd spent her entire childhood waiting for him to come home, wondering what she would do, what she say to him when she saw him again but the moment never came. She never got the chance to tell him how she felt, how much he hurt her. It was that little girl who was anxious and excited at the prospect of seeing of her father. She hated herself a little in that moment, knowing there were bigger things to be worried about but she couldn't help it, couldn't control what paths her mind took. She felt six years old all over again. A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily.

She needed to focus on the life and death part of the conversation she'd had with Owen. The Cassavette's were after her and that was not good. Owen had been right in one aspect, she couldn't stay at home, it wasn't safe. Though, she didn't understand how they weren't already here, they should have found her the second they knew her name, she wasn't exactly hiding. Unless, Owen was lying to her, which was also a very good possibility. If it wasn't for Owen calling her little Bumblebee, she wouldn't believe him.

It was one of the few things she remembered about her father, he always called her his little Bumblebee. She'd asked her mom once why he called her that and she'd snapped that she didn't know and that it didn't matter. She cringed recalling that she'd said pretty much the same thing to Owen. That had been the last time she'd asked Fiona Smoak anything about her father, learning about him from things he'd left behind. Like her.

Slowly, she pulled herself off the floor, unsure of how long she'd been there. What she did know was that there was no way in hell she was staying here, she was going to pack a bag and head over to the lair. There had been a brief time where Oliver had been living there while he searched for a new place and she knew for a fact his cot was still there. She ran around the house, shoving clothes and toiletries into the barely used duffel that had been in the bottom of the closet. She threw the bag over her shoulder, doing one last check to make sure she grabbed everything, and pulled the taser out of her pocket. She didn't think she'd be ambushed on her way to the car but she wasn't taking any chances.

An hour later, she parked her car in her usual spot, hidden away from the building. The lair was only a ten minute drive from her place but she was worried about being followed so she'd taken the roundabout way, taking turns that led her away from the lair until she was convinced no one was following her. For all she knew, she'd already been followed her before but it was better to be safe than sorry.

She kept the taser in her hand as she grabbed the duffel out of the trunk. She knew she should call one of the guys, let them know what was going on but she didn't want to worry them, or at least not until it was a more respectable time. 'Home sweet home,' she thought as she made her way into the building.

Oliver hit the training dummy a little harder than he needed to, sending a chunk flying. His frustration hadn't abated at all in the hour or two he had spent down here. He was drenched in sweat, his body tired and aching from the over-exertion but he didn't care, he needed to keep hitting things. Light footsteps on the stairs startled him and he was shocked to find Felicity standing at the bottom of them, duffel bag over her shoulder. She looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

"Felicity? What are you doing here? It's three in the morning," his tone more irritated than he wanted it be.

Her tired eyes widened. "I'd ask you the same thing but I have a feeling you'd bite my head off," she shot back. Her body slumped, the strap of the duffel bag sliding down her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I thought no one would be here. I was going to crash here for the night. I can go—"

"Felicity," he cut her off. "What happened?" Something had happened since he'd last seen her, he could read it all over her face and he took a moment to push aside the irrational anger and jealousy that had driven him back here tonight.

She dropped her stuff on the floor and crossed her arms, refusing to look at him. "I don't even know where to start."

He took a step towards her. "Start with why you're going to sleep on the cot here instead of in your bed at home."

"The Cassavette's are looking for me, I guess, I don't know. The information didn't come from what you would call a reputable source."

"What do you mean the Cassavette's are looking you?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"I assume that means there's a price on my head or something, I don't know how mobsters work. Do they send out a group text? Or maybe they're old school and there's a phone tree or something." She laughed bitterly. "Turns out someone's been following me and they know that I help the Arrow. Add that to fact that the two top guys they sent here are now in Iron Heights because of the Arrow and I'd say that they're pissed."

Once again, Felicity's life was in danger because of him. Mobsters, none the less. "Why were you being followed in the first place?"

"Again, I don't know. He wasn't exactly forthcoming with answers. He was more your life's in danger, stop asking so many questions, get out of the city." Felicity rolled her eyes.

His mind flashed back to earlier when he'd gotten to Felicity's house. It had taken him a minute to recover when she'd left the lair so by the time he'd gotten there, she was already inside. It had taken a moment for him to realize there were two shadows inside instead of just Felicity. He could tell her back was to the window and someone was facing her, an undeniably male someone. He couldn't tell how close they were standing but it seemed pretty close, the male shadow looming over her but it didn't seem threatening. Worry flashed through him and he almost ran up to the door to break it down but he restrained himself. Her car was the only one in the driveway and there didn't seem to be any unusual ones parked on the street. The male shadow had moved, taking a seat on the couch, a couch that he'd never gotten to see, let alone sit on. Soon, Felicity's shadow moved towards the couch before she slowly took a seat on the other end. It occurred to him that she didn't seem to be in any danger and he was rocked by the idea of Felicity having late night visitors. He'd never seen anyone else here all those nights he'd ended up outside but that didn't mean anything. He took one last look at the shadows sitting on the couch and unable to take it any longer, he'd driven off on his bike.

"Who's he?" His jealousy and anger rearing it's head again and he did his best to shove it down.

She glowered. "Owen something, I didn't catch his last name."

"What do you mean you didn't catch his name?" He asked, confused.

"Like I said, he wasn't exactly forthcoming with information. Not to mention, I kicked him out the second I figured out he wasn't going to tell me anything important."

"Let me get this straight, a guy named Owen told you the Cassavette family is after you because they know you work with the Arrow?"

"I think that sums it up."

He paced around a little, trying to fit the pieces together. "How does Owen know this?"

She shuffled her feet and stared at the floor like she wanted it to swallow her up. He stopped pacing and moved so he was standing in front of her. "Felicity?"

She stared up at him, something he couldn't pinpoint swirling in her eyes. "My father sent him." Her chin quivered but she quickly pulled herself together.

"I thought your father left."

She nodded. "He did, I haven't seen him since I was six. Then out of nowhere, this random guy shows up telling me that my father sent him to get me out of town."

"So you don't know this Owen? He was just sent here to warn you?" He knew the situation was serious but he couldn't help but feel relieved. He wasn't too late. A part of him was ashamed at his actions, he'd gotten worked up over nothing, not that he had a right to in the first place but it had been a major blow to think someone, other than him, was spending time with Felicity. He'd immediately assumed they'd been spending time together in a romantic way, it'd only flashed briefly through his mind that she was in danger before he'd jumped to conclusions. And now looking back, he saw how far he'd actually jumped, that there had been no indication other than the time and presumed gender of the other shadow. A new thought made him clench his fists in frustration towards both him and Felicity. "You let this guy in your house? Without knowing who he was? Just because he said he knew your father, a man you don't even know? He could've killed you!" He snapped.

"You think I don't know that?" She shot back. "I had the taser the whole time and I didn't let him in until he'd proved he knows my father!"

"How do you know for sure he knows your father? And how is your father involved with the Cassavette's?"

"I just know that he knows my father and I don't know how he's connected to them, ok? I don't know anything, I was a little too shocked to cover all my bases." Her eyes widened and she pointed a finger, accusingly, at Oliver. "You did follow me home tonight! Otherwise how would you even know I let him into the house?"

"Maybe if you guys had stayed outside, I would have known something was going on instead of thinking you were sleeping with him!" He knew they both needed to take a step back and get themselves together before they went too far, before they laid everything out on the table but he was starting to think they were already on a runaway train.

She laughed but it wasn't a friendly one. "That's what you thought? Is that why you were full of attitude when I got here? Is that why you're here in the middle of the night? Because you were jealous?" She stared at him, disbelieving.

"Could you blame me for thinking that? What else am I supposed to think when there's a man in your house at two in the morning?"

"The last time I checked," her voice had dropped to a deadly whisper as she moved closer to him, staring up at him. "You shouldn't be following me home in the first place, let alone be worried about who I'm spending my time with. I'm sure Laurel wouldn't be happy to know how involved in my social life you are and I know she would be pissed if she knew you've been sitting outside my house at night for the last six months."

"You know?" He whispered.

She gave him a look. "Of course I know, Oliver. I had to convince old Mr. Shultz not to call the cops on you. Could you imagine the headlines? Oliver Queen arrested outside assistant's home. What the hell were you thinking?" She poked him, hard, in the chest.

"I needed to make sure you were safe!"

"Make sure I was safe? Will you make up your damn mind, Oliver?" She asked the last part softly.

He didn't say anything, he didn't know what to say. He was angry with himself for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. The guy her father sent could have easily killed her and Oliver had left her with him, assuming that one of his bigger, unsaid fears was happening.

"You can't be with Laurel and follow me home, Oliver—"

"We broke up," he cut her off, compelled to tell her. Her eyes widened and her features softened before anger flamed back up.

"This isn't about Laurel," she said after a second. "This is about us. This is about the fact that you're so concerned for my safety that you're following me home. This is about you being blinded by jealousy that you have no right to!"

"Blinded by jealousy? My first reaction was that you were in trouble. How would you feel now if I'd busted down the door and come rampaging in like I wanted to? How would you feel, Felicity?"

"I don't know! I have no idea how I feel about anything where you're concerned!" Her hands were fisted in her hair, frustration and anger rolling off of her. "You're telling me now you follow me home because you're worried about my safety yet six months ago you had no problem offering me up to Slade as bait."

Her accusation slammed into him and he could see the regret in her eyes as soon as the words came out but they cut the same. "If there had been another choice, I would've made it. It killed me to put you in danger like that," he admitted for the first time out loud. "But I didn't have another choice."

"What about telling me you loved me?" She asked quietly. "Was that really your only choice? Because in my humble opinion, the plan would have worked the same if you'd just said that he took the wrong woman. Or was the fake proclamation of love just the cherry on top for you? The selling point that drove the whole thing home?"

"It wasn't fake!" The words boomed from his chest before he could stop them. She inhaled sharply, doe eyes looking up at him. He was breathing heavily even though he hadn't moved a muscle.

The computer beeped loudly, once. Then again. And again. Felicity groaned and stomped over to the computer. Oliver took this second to gain a shred of his composure.

"This is not good," Felicity called to him.

He turned around and walked over to her, extremely conscious of how close they were standing. "What is it?"

They shared a look, agreeing to table this conversation for the moment. "That beeping noise was an alert I have set for Iron Heights." She shook her head before continuing. "Their incompetency is the bane of my existence and this just proves that."

"Felicity," he said to get her back on track.

"There was a break out earlier tonight, well, this morning, technically. Two prisoners escaped with help from a guard who's now vanished. Is it a prerequisite that you have to be morally suspect to work at Iron Heights?" She sighed.

"Who escaped?" He knew that she avoiding it.

"Frank Shepard was one."

His jaw clenched. "Marcetti's guy. I take it that means Marcetti was the other escapee?"

"Nope. He was the prisoner who was killed during the escape, he didn't even make it out of his cell."

"Looks like Shepard earned himself a promotion. Who was the other one?"

"William Tockman AKA the Clock King. See, this is why I hate Iron Heights," she fumed. "Do you think that's a coincidence or something else?"

"I don't know. I hope it's a coincidence but I wouldn't guarantee it."

She looked at him sheepishly. "Also, there's something I need to tell you about Frank Shepard."

He tensed and listened silently while she told him of her odd encounter with Shepard at the police station. "We're missing something here. This is all tied together but we're missing a piece," he said, frustrated.

"A piece that I'm sure is connected to my father."

He agreed with her but he didn't say it. He looked at his watch, noting that it was four in the morning and there was only a few hours until they both had to be at Queen Consolidated. Normally, he'd suggest not going in but he had a meeting in the morning that he'd already had Felicity more times than appropriate. Losing the company made him take it much more seriously than he had before. "There's nothing we can do now. We should try to get a few hours of sleep. My apartment isn't that far from here."

He'd used a small part of his half of the inheritance money he'd gotten after Moira's death to rent out a decent apartment. After regaining control of QC, he'd also gotten back the mansion and Verdant. The club's doors remained closed, awaiting Thea's return and he hadn't been able to go back to the mansion when the halls were packed full of ghosts, so he'd kept the apartment.

"Oliver, I couldn't—" Felicity started.

"You need to sleep. I'll sleep on the couch, you can have the bed."

"The cot is perfectly fine, I can sleep here."

"I can't."

Her eyebrow quirked up.

"We don't know if they've found this place so I'm not going to take the chance. I can't sleep here so that leaves my apartment." She still looked hesitant and he didn't blame her so he added, "Unless you really want to sleep on an uncomfortable cot down here, all by yourself, while mobsters are looking for you?"

She frowned and scanned the room before her shoulders slumped and she got out of the chair. "Fine. But we're coming up with a new plan tomorrow."

"Agreed," he said as he picked up her duffel bag. It was only for a few hours but he doubted he was going to sleep knowing Felicity was sleeping in his bed. The feeling that he was on a runaway train resurfaced but there was nothing he could do but brace himself.