NEVER TOO LATE

Chapter 3

Felicity stared at the woman in the mirror in front of her, incredulously wondering how she ever got to this point. Why she let herself get to this point. Tonight was going to be her twenty-fifth "date" with Oliver, and she stood in front of her bedroom mirror frozen on the spot, her nerves wracked with anxiety. She thought she looked great in her bright red, floor-length evening gown that gave onlookers a subtle peek at her left leg through a slit that went up to mid-thigh. She had spent more almost an hour curling her blonde mane and securing it in an elegant up-do. She also chose to wear her contact lenses, keeping her face free of the dark-rimmed glasses that she usually wore every day.

She was convinced that her outward appearance concealed what she was trying so hard to keep hidden. To say that she was nervous was an understatement. She was certifiably terrified! Terrified of walking into the ballroom of the Queen mansion as Oliver's date and being the object of the scrutiny of more than a hundred of Queen Consolidated's top executives and their plus ones for the evening. She took a deep breath and shook her head once more, thinking whether or not she should take off the dress and just text Oliver that she wasn't feeling well and she could no longer make it. It wouldn't be a complete lie. She really did feel dizzy and nauseous.

But no, she couldn't do that to him. They'd been seeing each other for almost two months now, and Oliver has been simply… amazing! He's been so wonderful she sometimes felt like it was too good to be true.

Just a week ago when they were taking an afternoon stroll at the boardwalk of the Starling City Bay, each enjoying a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone, Oliver had suddenly taken her hand and bravely asked if she would do him the honor of being his date for QC's charity gala to be held in his family's ancestral home. It had been a beautiful afternoon: the sunset was perfect, the sea breeze blowing on her face and messing up her hair calmed her, the ice cream on her tongue relaxed her after a long day at school, and best of all, her hand in his warmer one soothed her. It didn't take her long to overcome the initial apprehension of finally being introduced to his parents and of most probably being the center of everyone else's attention as soon as she walks into the gala by his side. She had squeezed his hand and with a smile said "I'd love to go." He didn't even have to ask her twice.

Why wouldn't she say yes? After all, she had crossed the threshold that afternoon in his coffee shop when she told him that he had earned himself a second date. She had taken that risk and let him into her bubble long before he'd asked her to go to the gala as his date. She had opened the door to her heart, and since then, he had become part of her "safe zone," which consisted of very few people. There Oliver had joined her mother, John and Lyla Diggle, and her best friend Caitlyn, whom she sees very rarely because Caitlyn lived in Central City.

Felicity had asked her good friends and confidants if she had made a mistake agreeing to go to the gala with Oliver. Two days after she'd said yes, she had begun second-guessing herself, anxious about being seen with Oliver in such an event. She worried that she would inevitably run into some familiar QC folks and then become the subject of office gossip. John and Lyla had encouraged her not to worry too much, and Caitlyn had told her that it was about time she put the past behind her and really moved forward instead of staying stuck in a lonely rut. At first she admitted to being stuck in a rut but resented the fact that her friend described said rut as lonely. But Caitlyn knew exactly how to get through to Felicity, and she did. Felicity not only admitted that she was indeed lonely but also that she was scared about going public about her and Oliver's…

Felicity stopped short at the thought. She still hadn't moved from the spot in front of her mirror. For a moment she was puzzled that she hadn't given much thought about what it was that she now had with Oliver. She was sure they were friends. Very good friends, actually. She loved spending time with him, and over the past weeks, she had grown fonder and fonder of him. In fact, if she were to be totally honest, she must confess that she wanted to spend more and more time with him as the days went by.

In the first few weeks, they'd only been seeing each other at Connor's Brew. They would chat for a couple of hours over coffee and pastries, or they'd have dinner there in their private booth, sometimes with Thea, or Connor, or Thea and Connor. Sometimes he'd drop by her office in the university and bring her coffee or hot cocoa and some muffins or bread he'd freshly baked.

Felicity couldn't forget the day Oliver discovered – in the most unpleasant way – that she was allergic to nuts. That Saturday morning Oliver had asked her to come with him to the back of the shop. He brought her to the kitchen to try a new recipe he'd been experimenting on. His mistake was letting her have a couple of bites – which, by the way, she absolutely adored – before telling her that it was carrot-pineapple-walnut cake. That's when he learned what an Epi pen was and how to use it on her in case of an emergency. They still ended up in the E.R. of Starling City General because he had insisted that he take her there for doctor's to do a more thorough check-up just to make sure she was safe.

After she had recovered from her allergic reaction, they discovered their mutual love and enthusiasm for physical fitness. They jogged and ran together Tuesday and Thursday mornings when they both didn't have first period classes, hell and high water be damned. In the beginning they only ran around campus, but after two weeks, they'd decided they needed more challenging routes. They'd drive to the bay area and run on the beach and the boardwalk. Twice they even tried jogging up and down a trail that cut through Starling Central Park and Starling City Gardens. Oh, how she enjoyed running with him! Oliver was a fine gentleman, no doubt about it, but when it came to their morning runs, he had considered her an equal in every way, competition even. He didn't adjust his strides for her sake, and she liked the challenge. In fact, she noticed that he seemed to be delighted that she could keep up with him.

Felicity grinned when she recalled two things. First was how amusing it had been for them to show up at their meeting place wearing running outfits of the same color scheme each and every time. Second was the look on Oliver's face the first time she walked up to his car in the campus parking lot wearing pink running shorts and a black-and-pink spandex sports bra. She was one hundred percent sure that he was checking her out since the moment he spotted her approaching. The ride to the boardwalk had been awkward and quiet that morning; Oliver kept his eyes straight ahead, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel while humming a song. She was sure that he hadn't noticed the cold sweat forming on his forehead or that he had been breathing unevenly. She also remembered feeling butterflies in her stomach and the heat of an intense blush creeping upwards from her neck to her face at the flattering thought that this handsome, incredible man had considered her attractive even at her age.

Felicity's grin widened as she recalled the next morning run when Oliver arrived a couple of minutes late at the campus parking lot. He was wearing a black singlet that showcased his majestic chest and the undulating waves of firm muscles on his arms, and his dark grey cycling shorts hugged his well-toned muscles in all those gorgeous parts. (He just about drove her crazy all morning, and she pined for him the rest of the day!) She also remembered the mischievous grin on her face, telling her that he had intended to get even, and that he had.

During the ride to the boardwalk, Felicity squirmed in her seat. She felt slightly embarrassed that a middle-aged woman like her still got seriously attracted to such an impressive specimen of the male species. She also felt a bit irritated because she thought that it was quite unfair for a guy in his forties to still be so physically… fit. She spent the rest of the car ride blaming her hormones for what she thought were hot flashes. She promised herself that she would Google the signs and symptoms of early menopause as soon as she got back to her apartment.

When coffee and pastries and early morning runs in spandex sports outfits were no longer enough, Oliver and Felicity had moved on to afternoon walks on campus, in a park, on the beach, or down the boardwalk. It had been only about two weeks ago, if she remembered correctly, when she realized that they had begun the HHWW habit. The first time she noticed that they had already been holding hands while walking was at Starling Gardens. Oliver had helped her cross the hanging bridge when she decided it was a good idea to do so with her heels on; he wanted to make sure she made it across unharmed. It had been a good half hour or so after that when she noticed that he hadn't let go of her hand since. When she realized this, she contemplated pulling her hand away, but it had warmed her heart so much and made her feel special – and safe – that she decided not to. The next time their hands intertwined, she had been more keenly aware of how Oliver rubbed his thumb up and down hers as he told her stories about his childhood and about Connor's childhood. She had wondered how such a small, simple, mundane action could make her feel so precious and cared for.

A couple of times Oliver had asked to take her out to dinner in a fancy restaurant of her choice, but she had declined. Both times. Coffee and jogging were perfectly acceptable in her safe zone; those were things that friends normally did together. But formal dinners in plush restaurants where couples dressed up and drank wine or champagne were a different story. Felicity had felt that she wasn't ready for that yet, since that would mean that whatever it was that they shared had become more than mere friendship. She was comfortable with being friends, even if she knew that deep down something was beginning to shift inside her. She wasn't sure what to do with her feelings, so she had turned him down both times. Oliver had been very nice and understanding about it, even if she hadn't been able to give him any valid excuse. He hadn't pressured her, and he hadn't asked her out to dinner again until that day when he had asked her to be his date to the charity gala. It obviously meant a lot to him, and so she acquiesced. As any good friend would.

So there she was in front of her bedroom mirror, transfixed at the image of a Felicity Smoak who hadn't gone to a formal evening event as anyone else's date in ages. Was she ready for this? She wasn't sure. But she figured it was worth trying. If things didn't go well, then she'd have a pretty good reason to turn him down the next time he asks.

Felicity was putting on her earrings when she heard the knock on her apartment door. She looked at the clock on her bedside table. "He's right on time," she murmured as the corners of her lips curled up to a small smile. "I guess the office gossip about him being perennially tardy isn't true after all. It's either that, or he has really changed through the years," she thought, slipping on her silver, rhinestone-studded stilettos.

She scampered to her front door and opened it gently. She found Oliver standing outside, facing the apartment directly in front of hers. His right hand was clenched into a fist and he was rubbing his thumb against his forefinger. It looked like he was holding something with his other hand. He rocked on the balls of his feet, muttering something under his breath. Felicity heaved a sigh before greeting him. She felt relieved that he appeared to be just as nervous as she was.

"Good evening, Oliver," she said softly.

Apparently, that startled Oliver because he flinched and then swiftly turned around to face her. He gazed at her as if she was an angel sent to deliver him from a monotonous and miserable life of loneliness, and he was rendered speechless and dumbfounded. He had totally forgotten all about the bouquet of flowers he held in his left hand.

Felicity frowned. "Is something wrong? Are you all right?" She started to get worried as she saw his face and his ears flushed red. He didn't seem to be breathing.

When Oliver finally remembered how to speak, he stuttered, "I… uh… Hi! Y-you… look… You're so beautiful, Felicity." Her name rolled out of his tongue like it had just savored honey.

Her eyes glistened, and she smiled, showing most of her pearly whites. "Oh… Thank you," she replied. "Are those for me?"

"What?" Oliver asked, obviously still mesmerized at the sight of her. "Oh, these? Yes! These are for you," he answered more definitely. He stepped forward and handed Felicity the bouquet of colorful flowers. He leaned a little bit, intending to give her a friendly kiss on her left cheek, but he hesitated when he saw her gasp and tense up. As she took the bouquet from him, their hands brushed lightly, and she felt a spark surge from her hand through her arm and to the rest of her body. She didn't know what had gotten into her, but it was as if her own body decided that it had wanted to respond to Oliver's sweet gesture. Her other hand instinctively reached up to touch his shoulder as she leaned into him as she tilted her head and gave him a chaste kiss on his left cheek. It was Oliver's turn to gasp in pleasant surprise.

Felicity quickly turned to hide the blush that was coloring her cheeks crimson. She headed towards her small kitchen as she invited him in. She pulled out a tall crystal vase from one of the utility cabinets, filled it halfway with water, and put the flowers into it. She offered him something to drink, and he asked for a glass of cold water. When she gave it to him, she said, "Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful."

Oliver wanted to say, "Not half as beautiful as you," but all he could do was smile and nod. He didn't even dare take his other hand out of his pocket for fear that he just might not be able to restrain himself from cupping her cheek and kissing her senseless right then and there. He was absolutely smitten by her. He wondered how on earth he was going to survive the evening with her by his side.

Felicity told him to feel at home as she retrieved her strapless purse from her room and got ready to leave. When she returned, Oliver was seated on the couch, his elbows on his knees. He was holding a black velvet box in his hands.

"I'm all set. Shall we go?" she asked.

Oliver stood up and answered, "Not just yet. I have something else…for you." He smiled at her and came near, handing her the box. "Open it," he urged her.

"What's this?" she asked excitedly as she pried the box open. When she saw what was inside, it was her turn to be speechless and dumbfounded. Like running a search on the computer, Felicity's brain sifted through the memories of all her conversations with Oliver, from her most recent one – which was just the night before when he'd called to remind her that the gala was tonight – and backwards to the time they had first met in class last semester. It took her a couple of seconds to recall a particular incident just outside the ICT library when she had first turned him down; before the parted ways, Oliver had greeted her 'Merry Christmas,' and she had said that she was Jewish. That was months ago, and they had never really had a real conversation about religious stuff since. But he remembered. How thoughtful of him! There, resting in the velvet case was a silver pendant of the Star of David studded with tiny diamonds, attached to an intricately designed, shimmering silver chain. It was exquisite!

Seeing she still had been unable to respond, Oliver initiated, "Do you like it? I had it made for you for Valentine's, but you refused to go out to dinner with me. Remember?"

She nodded gently twice, as her eyes became glassy with tears. She remembered both times she had turned him down just as she remembered how she had told him she was Jewish.

"Is that a 'yes, I remember,' or a 'yes, I like it'?" Oliver clarified.

"Yes, I remember," Felicity said, "and yes, I love it!" She successfully blinked away her tears. "Thank you so much, Oliver. It's beautiful." She took the necklace out of the box and held it in front of her, admiring how the diamonds on the star glittered in the light. "Help me put it on. I think it'll go well with my dress," she requested.

Oliver took the necklace from her as she turned around. He unclasped the chain and moved to place the pendant on her chest. As she held the star down with her fingers just above where her cleavage began to show, he clasped the hooks together and locked them in place. He lingered a bit even if the task took only a couple of seconds to accomplish, because he couldn't resist staring down at the silky smooth, milky white skin of her back, which was left exposed by the backless design of her evening gown. His hands ghosted over her skin, and he felt ecstatic at their closeness. He was standing behind her just inches away. He took one more baby step towards her, leaned down and lightly pressed his cheek against her neck just behind her ear, and whispered, "I'm glad you like it."

And oh, wow, did that send shivers up and down her spine! Felicity's eyes slammed shut as she swallowed hard, fighting back the mixed emotions that threatened to break free. There was pleasure, thrill, and rapture – enough to send her sky-rocketing to the moon. But there was also fear and dread and panic that she was losing control over her safe zone. Her bubble was about to burst, so she had to do something. Fast!

Felicity cleared her throat and said, "Well, we better get going. We don't want to be late to a party at your own family's place, do we?"

And just like that, their moment fell apart. They left the apartment as soon as she turned off the lights and locked the door.

Everything was going smoothly at the charity gala in the Queen mansion. Felicity survived the initial formal introductions. When Oliver and Walter Steele introduced her to Robert and Moira Queen, Felicity was astonished and pleased that the Queen patriarch immediately recognized her as a former QC employee with an impressive service record. Robert Queen even remembered sending her his laptop for repair when it had crashed once. He was jovial and nice to her, and so was his wife Moira. Moira had extended a warm handshake to her, happy to have finally met the remarkable woman that her son, her daughter, and her grandson have been bragging about for a few months now. To all the other guests that night, Oliver had introduced her as IT expert extraordinaire, as a university professor close to finishing her doctorate, and as his former teacher. But to his parents, he had introduced her as his "very dear friend, Felicity Smoak." That alone delighted her heart in more ways than one

Oliver didn't leave Felicity's side throughout the night. He was sensitive enough to consider that she might not want to be left alone, even just for a moment, to deal with anyone she didn't know. He had already gotten her to be his date for the night, even if he knew she had made an exception to come for his sake. His hand rested on the small of her back the entire evening, much to her satisfaction, except the time when he took her to the dance floor and swayed her to the light, classical jazz music played by the brass quintet. She didn't complain about that, though, because his arm had been around her waist the whole time, drawing her close to him. When Moonlight Serenade played, any remaining distance between them disappeared, as she rested her cheek on his chest and listening to the steady beating of his heart. Oliver, in turn, rested his cheek on the golden crown of her head. Everything else had either faded away or had been zoned out. It was just the music. And them. Together.

Felicity already had a couple of glasses of red wine, and she was just about to have her third one poured at the open bar when guests began to take leave. She was glad she didn't have to go for another glass anymore; she was beginning to feel a little tipsy. When Oliver asked her if she wanted to go home, she said yes politely. After saying the proper farewells to his family and the remaining guests, he drove her back to her apartment on campus.

Oliver walked her up to her apartment, again holding her hand. When they stepped off the elevator and started walking down the hallway towards her unit, Felicity's heart began to race. What would be the best way to cap a wonderful evening with a wonderful man? She hadn't really thought about that before. A handshake? Too formal, too distant. A hug? He isn't her uncle or her cousin, she thought. A kiss on the cheek? She felt a bit reluctant, considering how awkward that had made her feel earlier when he came to pick her up in the apartment. On the lips maybe? Ugh! What if he made a move to kiss her? Would she kiss him back? Should she invite him in for a nightcap? Maybe not a good idea seeing that they were still just friends.

A web of what ifs and what nows clouded her mind as they stopped in front of her door. Felicity was rattled. She had no clue what to do. Oh for heaven's sake! She was a forty-year-old woman! How could she panic about this? It's not like she hadn't kissed or been kissed by a man before. She grew anxious by the second.

Unknown to her, Oliver was feeling the same way and thinking almost the same things. He had had a fabulous evening with Felicity, and he definitely wanted to kiss her goodnight. What he wasn't sure of was whether or not she was ready for it. They hadn't really talked about where they were exactly in their relationship. He was sure they were friends, and he would like to think that they were more than just friends, but he didn't want to presume. He just didn't know what she expected from him before he called it a night.

Oliver racked his brain for answers. He tried to get reason to help him out, but with a gorgeously stunning woman standing right next to him, reason wasn't as potent as he would have liked it to be. He tried to cull from his past years of dating experience and come up with something that might help. But all he came up with was that he really needed to go back to the basics of wooing a woman, because this one was definitely, positively worth it.

He didn't know exactly what happened. She didn't either. Everything that happened between the moment they stopped in front of her door and the moment they started kissing on her couch had been a blur. Maybe it was all the alcohol they had consumed, maybe it was their nerves, or maybe they just got tired of dancing around the feelings that they perceptibly had for each other for some time now. Whether it was one or all of these factors put together, one thing was certain: things were heating up and happening so fast, and neither Oliver nor Felicity seemed to realize that they had to do something to stop the wreck that two hungry and lonely souls were recklessly speeding towards.

Oliver ran his hands up and down her upper arms, squeezing every now and then as he deepened the kiss. Felicity welcomed this, responded by reclining on one end of the couch and cupping his scruffy jaw with one hand while clutching his dress shirt with her other hand. But when Oliver began to caress her hip, something in Felicity snapped. An intense apprehension and impulse to protect herself broke her out of a state of ecstasy. The vivid image of Cooper Seldon flashed in her mind like an unwelcome trigger, making her push Oliver away instantaneously.

"I'm sorry! I… I can't do this!" she cried.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked, agitated and worried at her sudden change of mood. He tried to calm her down by rubbing circles on her arms.

"Please, just… just go. I'm so sorry, Oliver. I really am," Felicity pleaded, tears now rolling down her cheeks like rivers. Her voice quivered too, and she couldn't hide her regret from him any longer.

Oliver asked very softly and slowly, "Talk to me, Felicity. What's the matter? Did I do something to hurt you? Tell me, please."

"No. No, it's… it's not you," she replied, shaking her head vigorously. "Oliver, please, just leave me alone. Please go," she begged, crying bitterly like a child afraid of being punished for something wrong she'd done.

"Felicity, please. I want to help, and I can't do that if you won't let me." Oliver tried to persuade her one more time. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"Y-yes… but… but you can't trust ME!" Felicity cringed as she closed her eyes shut, her face contorting in disgust. She pushed Oliver further away as she pressed herself backwards against the couch and away from him. She reached for a throw pillow and clung to it for dear life. She needed so much to be as far away from him as possible.

"What? What do you mean?" he asked. Oliver was so confused. Felicity seemed terribly afraid of something, and yet she was saying that she's the one who cannot be trusted.

"Please just go. I can't do this. Whatever this is…" She paused, pointing to back and forth between her and Oliver. "Whatever it is that we have? It can't happen. I'm so sorry, Oliver. I'm so, so sorry. My life is a huge mess. I'm a mess! And I can't drag you into this. I'm not ready. I don't think I will ever be. I just… I just can't!" The dam broke and the words Felicity let loose like rambling that's out of control puzzled Oliver even more.

He reached out for her hand, but she flinched. When he tried to do it a second time, she swatted his hand away. She clearly didn't want him touching her anymore. Oliver was at his wit's end, and felt totally frustrated that he couldn't help her. He was perturbed that she wouldn't even let him help her.

"Please, Oliver… just leave!" she pleaded once more.

Oliver didn't want to cause her more pain that she was already struggling with, so he backed away and stood up from the couch. With his head hung low, he picked up his suit jacket from the coffee table, turned towards the door, and left.

On the short drive from her apartment building's parking lot, through university grounds, and until he parked his car in his own apartment building, Oliver couldn't put the puzzle pieces together. What had he done that elicited such a troubled response from her? All she had to do was tell him if she hadn't wanted them making out on the couch like overgrown teenagers. He would have understood, and he would have respected her wishes.

Oliver also began to realize that maybe he should have taken things more slowly; after all, they were just friends as of yet. Well, obviously they had both felt that something was definitely changing in their relationship; otherwise, they wouldn't have consented mutually to kissing as passionately as they had. Perhaps she just wasn't ready to take their relationship to a deeper level. He mentally scolded himself for crossing the line too soon and disregarding the boundaries Felicity had set for herself. But how could he have known what those boundaries were? How would he learn them now, when she had made him leave? Ollie Queen and his foolish, childish, self-gratifying ways were things of the past, but how could he make her understand and believe that? How could he redeem himself in her eyes now?

Oliver struggled with those questions, but what baffled him more was that, even in her anxious attempt to protect herself, Felicity had managed to somehow blame herself. What had happened to her in the past that caused her to be this way? Had she been hurt? Had she hurt someone? This was a mystery that Oliver was determined to unravel, because Felicity mattered to him. He cared about her, so much so that he will stop at nothing to help her sort out the mess she spoke of, whether or not they ended up together. At that moment, it dawned on him that sometime in the last six months, he had begun to truly love Felicity Smoak.

The following day and the days after that, Oliver called her, but she didn't pick up or call him back. He texted her, but she didn't reply. After a week, he got a text from her letting him know that she was spending spring break in Vegas with her mother, and that when she came back, he could see her again… if he can promise that they would just remain friends.

Oliver Queen. Friend-zoned. Frustrated.

Perhaps it was too late for them after all.

A/N: I'm so sorry if this chapter ends with you feeling just as frustrated and confused as Oliver is. I promise this will lead up to an HEA, so bear with me. Do let me know what you think of this update. Reviews and comments make my day, and help fuel the inspiration to write the last two chapters. Thank you once again for reading! (especially the guest who leave reviews that I cannot reply to)