A/N: Shorter-ish one but expect a new chapter of For Blue Skies in the new day or so! I love all of your faces.

Thursday morning, 8 a.m. 23 hours before surgery

"You're what?"

"It's not really up for discussion, mom."

"Well you better make it up for discussion, Oliver. Honestly, what are you thinking? We have finally gotten your father's company back to a good place, and you're willing to jeopardize that?"

"You're using a fairly loose definition of 'we' right there, don't you think?"

He ignored the look of shock that appeared across Moira Queen's face at his tone. He was running on minimal sleep and his patience was running thin, that was true, but none of his words rang false. They were just perhaps not as sugar-coated as she would have preferred.

Oliver spent the night before pouring over research on the internet in regards to Felicity's cancer. She had told him some details the afternoon before, but it wasn't nearly enough to ease Oliver's mind. "B-Cell non-Hodgkin lymphoma" might have been more than what he knew initially, but he still was woefully ignorant and determined to change that. After about 7 hours of doing nothing but reading about the disease, its treatments, and its remission statistics, Oliver knew he wasn't an expert by any means, but he at least felt like he wasn't going in blind.

That's all he really could handle at that moment. If he stopped too long and thought about what it meant that Felicity - his Felicity - had this life-threatening disease, then he knew he would be useless. To Felicity, to his family, to his company, to everyone. He would shut down. But he was aware of this, and instead chose to stay busy, reading medical journals and websites and researching support groups. He just had to keep moving.

Which brought him to his early morning meeting with his mother, fresh out of prison and still heavily interfering with his life. He had a busy day planned, however, including lunch with Felicity and Dig and a round of mini-golf. He refused to regret asking Felicity what she wanted to do on her last 'free' day, but when she requested mini-golf and absolutely no cancer talk at all, he did have to actively work to keep his face expressionless. He wasn't about to deny her this one thing, but he would make her promise to hack any website that posted pictures of him with a miniature golf putter.

"I'm not asking your permission, mother," he cut off her current plea for him to reconsider. "I am telling you what I am planning on doing. The company is still ours. Our name is still on the building and I will still be involved. Just not to the extent that I am right now."

"And what extent is that? Do you even attend board meetings, or do you just delegate them to your assistant in the short skirt?"

Oliver rose his eyebrows at her, daring her to continue with that train of thought. She wisely chose not the follow that path, instead sagging with reluctant acceptance.

"Will you at least tell me why you are doing this to us? Why you are willing to risk everything we - I'm sorry, you - have worked so hard for?"

He debated how much to tell her. He had no doubt that she would eventually learn all the details, but right now it wasn't his news to share, and he didn't particularly feel as if he needed to justify himself to her.

"My 'assistant in the short skirt,' Felicity, whose name I know you're aware of, has run into some hard times and needs my support. I can't be fully committed to running a company and helping her, so I have made a choice."

"'Fully committed?'" Moira echoed. "She's your assistant for god's sake, not your wife!"

The only outward sign of the anger he felt within was a slight flaring of his nostrils, but that was the only movement necessary to make his mother laugh harshly.

"Oh my, Oliver, are you involved with her? What are you thinking? You are and have always been a bright boy, but you are making a mistake! One that could ruin this family!"

The irony did not escape Oliver, but he simply ignored it for the time being.

"It is not a mistake," he told her quietly. "And it is still not up for discussion."

He gathered his coat, slipping it on while his mother stood still, absolutely flummoxed by the change in her son's behavior.

"Who is going to be willing to be the interim CEO of Queen Consolidated? Who do you think you can trust that much?"

Well, that was what Oliver was about to go and see. He didn't realize until later that he never actually refuted his mother's claims that he was involved with Felicity.

The marble clicked under his shoes, loud to him but to no one else. There were still plenty of people milling around the main floor of Starling National Bank at midmorning on a Monday, completing their transactions for a new work week, but Oliver Queen was only interested in seeing one person. He took the elevator up to the executive suites and sauntered up to the main desk, intent on using his charm.

"Walter Steele, please."

"Do you have an appointment?" The secretary didn't look up as she shuffled papers around her desk, seemingly searching for something underneath the organized stacks.

"I do not."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Steele is incredibly busy this morniiiii…Oliver Queen!" She finally looked up and the stack of papers she had been holding slid out of her hand, covering her keyboard and mouse.

"I hate to bother Mr. Steele without an appointment, but an urgent situation has come up and I need to speak with him right away. Could you please let him know that I am here?" He flashed her what he hoped was a charming smile. Mostly, he felt nervous and unsettled, something he was becoming irritatingly familiar with.

"I...yes. Of course, I can definitely do that." She scrambled to find her phone underneath her papers, but quickly alerted Walter to his presence. "You can go on in. Thanks, Mr. Queen."

He had no idea what she was thanking him for, but he politely nodded and entered Walter's office, quietly shutting the door behind him.

"Oliver, I must admit that I am surprised to see you here. Is everything alright with your family? Thea? Moira?"

"They're both fine," he assured, despite the little voice in his head that reminded him that it was his other family that wasn't okay. "I realize that I don't have much of a leg to stand on here, but…I need your help."

"Forgotten the pin to your checking account again, have we?" He gestured to a seat in front of his desk. "Please, sit."

"I wish it were that simple." He slipped into a chair, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He hadn't really worked out what he was going to say, which he regretted immensely at that current point. He wasn't a headhunter for Christ's sake, how was he supposed to recruit a man from a job? An incredibly high-paying job with all sorts of benefits, he imagined, for a temporary position at the company he was clearly trying to distance himself from?

Despite being incredibly unprepared, Oliver had thought this decision through. The second he started learning more about what Felicity was going to have to go through, the treatments, the tests, the procedures, he knew without a doubt that he would be there for her every single step of the way. It wasn't up for debate or argument, it was just a given. He wasn't going to miss a beat; he was going to do this right, do it with her, and that meant reevaluating some other aspects of his life, his role at QC, namely.

"Is everything okay with QC?"

"That's sort of what I'm here about."

The confusion on Walter's face was genuine. "From what I've seen, everything looks to be great. Stocks are up, confidence in the Queen name is being restored. What seems to be the problem?"

"I need a CEO."

Well, that was certainly one way to broach the subject delicately.

"I'm sorry?"

"Just for a little while."

"I'm not sure I'm following…"

"I need to step down from my position as CEO temporarily," he blurted out. "There is a...situation that needs my focus right now. I'm not going to be able to put in the time at QC that I need to."

"And you would like me to come back to QC, temporarily?"

"I would still be available," he rushed to say, hating the idea of having absolutely nothing to do during the day. He knew he couldn't put his entire life on pause; he had to have something to devote his time and energy on. Donning the Arrow suit was only a fraction of who he was, a fraction of who he wanted to be. "I'm not asking you to come back to an 80-hour a week job, Walter. I promise you that."

"Are you quite certain everything is alright at home?"

Oliver warred with himself over what would come out of his mouth next. He didn't want to lie to Walter, or make him worry unnecessarily about Thea or Moira, and he also didn't want to betray Felicity's trust. On the other hand, he was aware of the soft spot the older gentleman had for the woman, and he knew it could work to his advantage.

"It's Felicity."

"Miss Smoak? Is she okay?" Oliver remained silent. He didn't truly know how to answer that question. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to answer, Walter switched subjects. "How temporary are you speaking of?"

"A year, give or take." It was erring on the side of caution, and should Felicity want to return to work as soon as possible, he would deal with that when the time came. But at the same time, he knew that after all this was done, after she was in remission, that he would need some time to decompress, and he imagined that she would, too. A tiny little corner of his mind imagined them somewhere together, a beach, or a resort of some kind, celebrating her victory over this awful disease. It made him feel a little better to have that kind of plan in the back of his mind, even if it never would come to fruition.

"Who else would you ask if I declined?"

He hadn't really thought that far. He didn't know anyone else capable of running the company in a manner befitting of a Queen, and frankly, he didn't trust anyone else to even attempt to do so.

"No one," he replied truthfully. "I would try to divide my time and attention as best I could. It would not be ideal."

"No one?" He seemed a bit mystified at Oliver's candor.

"To be fair, I would also probably send Thea in to ask you, if I failed."

Walter smiled at that, appreciating his honesty. He mulled it over for a few very long minutes.

"It wouldn't be right away. I would need your lawyers to draw up a fairly ironclad contract, complete with a few addendums of my own."

"By all means," he rushed to agree. "I will get the lawyers working on it right away. I, uh...I will not be in the office next week. If you need me, I'll be able to meet you, possibly, but I don't think I will have a physical presence at QC."

Walter nodded as Oliver stood. "I don't foresee that being an issue. I'm sure you'll be kept in the loop as to the status of the contract the entire time." He hesitated before adding, "I would also like to be kept up to date as to the status of Miss Smoak. When you are able to tell me more, of course."

"Of course. Thank you, Walter."

"You're welcome, Oliver. I'm happy you felt like you could come to me with something like this. Miss Smoak is an exceptional young woman."

"That she is."