It started innocently enough.

Maria was at the kitchen table in the taverna, planning yet another wedding for yet another female relative. Dog-eared recipe books and bridal magazines covered half the surface, and she was jotting down notes in what she called her wedding book, a leather-bound book so crammed full of swatches of fabric and pictures that it wouldn't close and had to be held together with a rubber band. A running commentary accompanied every idea she put down on paper.

Felicity wasn't listening. She was too busy shoveling hummus into her mouth and watching Oliver arguing with Thea via text message.

Thea had built a secondary lair under her new club, and Oliver was not amused. First, because the word "secondary" implied that she had joined Digg, Roy and Laurel in the lair beneath Verdant, and second, that secondary lair could easily become a primary lair for Thea and Roy. He did not feel they were ready to go out on their own.

He was even less amused by Thea's endless calls to Felicity, asking for advice about setting up her own computer system. Separate from the club one. It had ended in Felicity agreeing to do some remote set-up and maintenance, not to mention teaching Thea a few tricks of the hacker trade.

To Oliver, it seemed as if just as he had shaken off the Arrow and thrown himself into living a relatively normal life in Greece, Felicity was slowly letting herself get dragged back into her old hacktivist life.

He was wrong of course, and Felicity told him so repeatedly.

She was just helping out and had no desire to get sucked back in to protecting Starling, and she reassured him about this as often as he needed to hear it. She had even abandoned - for now - the idea of helping people who had been wronged get their money back, though she would help her family and friends if they needed it.

"...but I don't think it suits them. I will save that idea for when you and Oliver get married."

Felicity froze, a pita wedge loaded with hummus half way between her mouth and her plate.

She put it down. "What?"

Maria continued writing. "The table setting idea I just told you about. I decided to save it for when you and Oliver get married. It's perfect for you."

Felicity's brain temporarily stopped working. She felt like a rabbit caught in headlights. Her eyes darted wildly between Oliver, who was watching her with a small frown creasing his forehead, and Maria who had yet to notice something was wrong.

"We haven't...we're not...I mean...Excuse me!"

She lurched out of her seat and darted out of the kitchen, through the empty taverna and down to the beach.

"She is scared, I think." Maria was looking at him shrewdly over the top of her reading glasses.

Oliver immediately thought about that long ago conversation about Felicity's family, the night his mother announced she was running for mayor, and how it had affected Felicity when her father had left.

"Yes. Yes, I think she is. And I think I might know why." He stood. "I'll go talk to her."

"Oliver."

He turned back to the woman who had become a second mother to him.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Don't worry. She is a bright girl. She will figure things out."

He frowned in confusion. Maria seemed to know what was going on with Felicity, and he wondered if Felicity had shared some of her past with her.

"I may have had a similar reaction when my husband asked me to marry him," she explained in response to his unspoken question.

"Has she told you anything about her past?"

She let go of his hand and went to the stove to pour herself another cup of coffee. "Not much. But sometimes, it's the things that go unspoken that tell you the most about a person."

"That's very true." He smiled as she took her seat again, setting her cup down. "When did you get so wise, old woman?"

"If you think I won't soundly paddle your backside you are very much mistaken, young man," she deadpanned, marking a page in one of the bridal magazines.

Oliver shot a look at her infamous cooking spoon and grinned. "I don't doubt that for a second, mana mou." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and went in search of his girlfriend.

Oliver knew exactly where to find her.

He walked down the beach, away from the taverna to where the beach ended, at least at high tide. At low tide, like now, you could walk around the rocks to find a secluded little cove. It was one of the places Felicity sometimes went to when she had to think, or wanted to be alone.

She was perched on a low rock, her heels propped up on the edge, hugging her knees to her chest. She avoided looking at him as he made his way over to her and sat down beside her. Her only acknowledgement of his presence was to lean into him, her shoulder coming to rest against his upper arm.

They sat wordlessly side by side, staring out over the ocean as he waited for her to collect her thoughts and speak. She was silent for so long, he was almost startled when she finally did.

"I don't want you to think I don't want to be with you."

He turned his head, watching her profile as she spoke, her loose curls shifting in the breeze. "I don't think that, Felicity."

"I don't know what happened." She unfolded her legs and put her feet down, digging her toes into the warm sand. "I mean, I know what happened, I freaked out at the idea of marrying you. Which is ridiculous, because we've never even talked about..."

"Felicity." He gently cut her babbling short.

She took a breath and got back on track. "It's just...marriage is so...so..."

When it came to emotional intelligence, Felicity's unconventional upbringing had left her somewhat lacking. She had no idea how to verbalize her feelings and her fears about the wedded state.

Oliver did it for her.

"I know. It's a huge commitment, if you take it seriously. And it means you have to deal with some scary issues."

"You mean my abandonment issues." She was running her hands up and down her thighs, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.

"I mean that your father leaving hurt you so much that you want to protect yourself, to keep yourself from going through that again. Marriage takes away the illusion of safety that being single gives you." He threaded his fingers through hers, stilling her hand. "It's a step away from that safety zone. It makes you more vulnerable."

"What do you mean when you say 'Illusion of safety'"? She was looking at him now, curious.

"Well, being single doesn't actually protect you from loss, or being hurt. A person can be abandoned by their loved one whether they are married or not."

Her forehead creased. "Since when did you get so smart about relationships?"

"Since I fell in love with you." He watched a faint pink stain the apples of her cheeks. "Do you ever see a time, can you even imagine a time when you would leave me? When we wouldn't be together?"

She replied without hesitation. "No. Never."

"Then what difference could us being married possibly make? Felicity, you're one of a kind. Absolutely unique. And after what we've been through together, after what you've done for me, and sacrificed for me...no one will ever measure up to you. Marriage is nothing in the face of that kind of a bond. And that's why you shouldn't fear it."

Oliver stood and dropped to a crouch in front of her, his thighs bracketing her knees. He reached for her other hand. "Whether we ever get married or not, you're it for me. There can't be anyone else. So I have a suggestion. How about I promise to never ask you to marry me? If you ever want to take the plunge, you'll have to ask me. What do you say?"

She smiled tentatively. "It does take the pressure off a little. I don't know why there should be pressure though, I mean it's not like..."

"Felicity. You don't need to justify your feelings to me."

He stopped talking when she threw herself at him, almost knocking him off his feet, her mouth clashing with his. His arms flew around her, trapping her against him.

She didn't say a word, but the intensity of her kiss told him all he needed to know. Rising out of his crouch he lifted Felicity to her feet with him, still being thoroughly kissed by her.

"Hey." He broke the kiss and cupped her face. "Hey. We have to get going. The tide's coming in."

Felicity shook off her daze and looked over to the shore. Their path was already ankle deep in water.

Oliver turned his back to her. "Jump up."

She put her hands on his shoulders and jumped, wrapping her arms around his neck and hooking her legs over his hips. His hands hands slid beneath her thighs to support them, and he carried her quickly through the swirling waters.

He didn't set her down again until they had reached the path leading up to the taverna.

"Felicity." He stopped her with a hand to her shoulder as she started heading in. "Let's stay here tonight. I'll go talk to Maria, break the news that there isn't going to be a wedding, and scrounge up some leftovers. We can have a picnic on the roof. Or in bed."

She smiled, rising on her toes to kiss him. "Sounds wonderful. Don't be too long."

He walked into the apartment an hour and a half after she did.

She looked up from her tablet. "Did you have to talk her off the ledge or something? That took forever. Is she very upset?"

"No." He set the basket of leftovers on the island. "She was very cool about it. I don't think she believed me when I told her there wasn't going to be a wedding, but she's not going to bother us about it anymore."

She eyeballed him speculatively. "There's something else. You look a bit like Costas when he's dying to share something but is under strict orders not to."

"Well, I'm not under any orders. Now, what's it to be? Picnic in bed, or on the roof?"

"But you have something you are dying to share." Standing, she sashayed over to him, stopping just out of his reach.

"Yes." He moved closer and hooked a finger into her waitsband, reeling her in.

She batted his hand away and took a step back. "Well, then? Spill, mister."

"No. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Because now is not the time."

"When will it be time?"

"Felicity...roof or bed? If you don't pick, I will."

She wrinkled her nose. "You know I hate mysteries, right?"

"I do. Bed it is, then. Naked."

Felicity tried everything to get him to spill, in bed and out of it. Nothing worked. Oliver, who had withstood interrogations far worse than anything Felicity could ever dish out, remained mum.

He was gone when Felicity woke up the next morning, leaving a note on his pillow.

A note folded up into an origami swan. She almost hated to unfold it.

Running some errands with Maria. She left you a list of chores for lunch prep while she is away, she'll take over again when we get back. Be ready by 11:00, I'm taking you out to lunch. Love, O.

She rolled onto her back with a frustrated groan. Great. Whatever Oliver's big secret was, it looked like Maria might be involved.

Felicity spent the morning busying herself about the taverna, trying not to obsess over whatever it was Oliver was hiding. When he and Maria got back, the latter absolutely beaming at Felicity, she thought she would explode.

"You ready?" Oliver ran his hand from the back of her neck to the small of her back.

"For you to tell me what the hell is going on? You bet."

He smiled enigmatically. C'mon, he mouthed, tipping his head in the direction of the parking lot.

Resigned to having to wait until he was good and ready to talk, she followed him out the car.

"What's in the backpack?"

He put it in the bed of the truck and opened the driver's side door for her. "Lunch."

She climbed in and scooted across the seat to the passenger side. "I thought you were taking me out?"

"I am." He climbed in behind her and shut the door, starting the engine.

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?" she commented when he offered no other explanation.

He just glanced over at her and smiled.

They drove on in silence, until Oliver turned on to the road that led up to their mountain home.

"Uh...Oliver? Are you taking me to lunch at our place?"

"You could say that, yes."

She waited for more, but nothing seemed to be forthcoming. "I've told you I hate mysteries, right?"

"Many, many times."

Smiling at his infinite patience with her, she watched him as they drove, marveling once again at the fact that this amazing, beautiful man loved her more than life, and wanted to be with her. How could she have gotten so lucky?

Instead of going in to the house when they arrived, Oliver led her around it, across one of the terraces and down the steps to a rocky path.

They followed the path, with Oliver helping her over the more difficult parts, until it petered out, dead-ending in a grassy bowl before two huge boulders. At the foot of the boulder, a hot spring bubbled out from the rocky ground. Someone - Oliver, she presumed - had built a semi circle around the spring, damming it up and creating a natural hot tub. Off to the right, a solitary cypress tree cast some shade on the grass. The view was incredible.

"You...did this?" Felicity was quietly awed.

He nodded. "I wanted to wait until this was a little further along, but I think now is the right time. I've been slowly working on the dam...you'd be surprised how long it takes to find exactly the right rock. They come from all over the island. I made collecting them and bringing them here a part of my workout."

"It looks amazing."

"It'll take a few years, but slowly, the build-up of water will irrigate the surrounding earth and we'll see more vegetation."

They stood in silence for a moment. Oliver watched her face, while she took in his handiwork.

"My reasons for showing you this now are first that this is a long term project, and I want to see it through. It binds us together, in this place. No matter where we go, the beginnings of us as a couple are here, our roots are here. And it will always be home to me."

Felicity was too moved to say much more than "and second?" in a tremulous voice.

"Consider it an engagement present."

She hugged her arms to her chest, her eyes sliding away from his. "Oliver..."

He moved to stand in front of her, tipping her face up to look at him again. "Hear me out," he interrupted her. "I'm not asking you to marry me. I said I'd leave that up to you. It's just that...well, Maria gave me something. Two things, actually. An idea, and..." He dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a ring. "This."

"Oh, wow!" Felicity reached for it and held it up to the light. "It's gorgeous. It looks like an antique."

It was a ring of white gold with five rose cut diamonds set in a closed foil-back setting, the largest one in the middle bracketed by two more in decreasing size. It was understated and soft, lacking the hard glitter of traditional diamonds. It was absolutely perfect.

"Why did she give it to you? And what was the idea?"

"It was her engagement ring. She gave it to me to give to you when we were ready, and that in turn gave me the idea, which is...Felicity, will you do me the honor of being my fiancee? Until death do us part, or until you ask me to marry you?" He watched the color drain out of her face as he spoke.

"Wait...Wait. What? This was hers? Why is she giving this to me? I mean to you?"

"She is still convinced we are eventually getting hitched, and she wants you to have it."

"I can't! She needs to keep it in the family! She has granddaughters...she...they..." Her eyes welled up.

"Felicity. She thinks of you as a daughter, and loves you like you were her own. She never had any, and she wants you to have it."

Her lower lip started trembling, and the tears that had been gathering in her eyes spilled over. For what felt like forever she was rendered speechless both by the unspoken expression of Oliver's love, and the evidence or Maria's.

"Felicity?" Oliver was starting to looking a bit vulnerable. "Give a guy a break here. What do you say?"

"What do I say?" she quavered. "Yes, of course. How could I say anything else? Yes, Oliver, I'll be your fiancee, until death do us part, et cetera."

"You're such a romantic," he quipped, taking her hand and slipping the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit, both in size and appearance.

They both moved toward each other at the same time, and she sank gratefully into Oliver's warm embrace. Enfolded in her love's arms and surrounded by the scent of him, his heart beating steady and strong beneath her cheek, Felicity felt her scarred psyche begin to heal. There, on top of their island, Maria's ring already warm on her finger, she finally found true peace.

After an endless moment of silence, she finally spoke. "Oliver?"

She felt his cheek shift against her hair. "Mmm?"

"I'm hungry. What's for lunch?"

Note: This is truly it, folks. There is no more. I'm out of ideas. Then again, that's what I said last time, but I think this time it'll stick.

Thanks for coming along for the ride, and for the comments and faves!