Oliver knows there's a bounce in his step as he makes his way from the car to the café they agreed to meet up in. He can tell by Dig's smile that he is amused by Oliver's enthusiasm. He finds Felicity sitting outside the café, hands wrapped around a mug of what he suspects is a Mocha with extra chocolate judging by the deep way she is inhaling and the satisfied sigh she gives. His smile only widens as he makes his way to her, Dig forgotten behind him.

"Good morning," he offers with a warm smile.

He can't help but feel relieved that she reached out to him, but more than that he's starting to think there's something about this talking about stuff that might actually be working. After his breakdowns, he is starting to actually feel like it was cathartic, as if he is now freer, more at peace, more balanced. And that was before Felicity reached out – now that she has, it's like walking on clouds. Like the first time she agreed to go on a date with him. Elation. Excitement. Happiness.

Felicity looks up at him owlishly, blinking, as though she's coming out of a daze before a tentative smile lights up her face. His own widens in response as he sits down.

"So," she starts, "I have questions."

Oliver hums agreeingly. "I figured you would once you had time to digest."

Felicity nods firmly.

"There's a reason I chose here," she tells him. "Grab yourself a drink and something to eat and we'll talk."

Oliver nods easily. "Can I get you anything else?" He offers with a nod to her half-finished drink and lack of food.

"Nah," she tells him, "I ordered before you came. My food is being prepared as we speak – well, I hope it is anyway. Of course, there is always the possibility of lost and misplaced orders, but it's unlikely."

Oliver grins widely, allowing himself to stroke with his thumb over her hand gently in lieu of pressing a kiss to her forehead. He's not sure if he's back to being allowed that liberty with her.

"I'll be right back," he promises her. Then, as he turns, comes face to face with an amused Diggle standing unobtrusively a few feet away with a good enough view of the area around him but a superb view of Oliver being a lovesick fool. Well, it wouldn't be the first – or likely last – time, so Oliver swallows the instinctive embarrassment.

"Can I get you anything?" Oliver asks and Dig shakes his head, but is immediately set upon by Felicity – who is apologising for not interacting him much when he drove her home or to the Police station and seems to be taking the opportunity to make up for lost time.

He joins the queue, places his order and takes his number back to their table – where Felicity is still – gently – interrogating Diggle.

To his surprise, though, Dig has just finished telling Felicity about Lyla and he can see Felicity's focused gaze switch to him.

"Join us," she offers Dig after a moment but his bodyguard shakes his head. "I'm on duty," he tells her and she looks at him, surprised, before flicking her eyes back to him. And yes, Dig is – because Oliver's focus is currently on her not on protecting her and he knows he can rely on his old friend to be more observant than he is, today.

"Thanks, Dig," he offers but the man just nods, settling back into a comfortable yet alert position.

"Alright," Felicity concedes with a half-shrug, turning back to Oliver.

"So, after our talks over the last few days I took the time to verify some information." Oliver nods; he expected nothing less. "Obviously most of the information pre-island was easy enough to verify. And on that note, I have some proof for you of the things you mentioned."

Oliver raises an eyebrow but then finds a picture of a younger William – not the adult he'd met from 2040s but a child going to school. He freezes before stroking gently over the screen.

"Thank you," he tells her, voice hoarse and she gives him a broad smile.

"Traffic cam from yesterday," she tells him. "It was pouring with rain over there this morning, so I couldn't get one for today, but I thought it might help."

"It does," he tells her honestly, hands trembling slightly as he hands her tablet back to her. "Thank you."

She blushes prettily. "Don't worry about it; it was easy. But I found all the information, just like you said. And Thea – I got some proof on that situation if you want it. Emiko's a bit more difficult. Got some things on Malcolm as well back before he knew he needed to cover his tracks. Slade's a bit more difficult he's only just making inroads. But Isabel's easier. I have put a few roadblocks up for her already; I'll do more once I have a more secure system. Blood I'm still working on but I have found some possible traces – he's not much of a public face yet so he's a bit lax when it comes to his background. At least for now. Diaz and Darkh – well, I figure I'd wait, like with Emiko, until my system is more secure."

"That," Oliver says with quiet emphasis, "would be my preference." He really doesn't want this worse with enemies from years in the future after them too early. Then he shakes his head with a quiet smile. "You've only had since yesterday afternoon," he tells her and she smiles, shrugs, sheepish. "You're remarkable," he tells her softly and watches her blush, righting her glasses as she stares at him.

"Thank you for remarking on it," she tells him, the same way his wife once did, years and years ago.

"But I still don't understand a few things," Felicity starts, after thanking the young college-aged server who brought her lunch and took her order number with him.

"Alright. What do you want to know?"

"So, that other billionaire guy I – she – dated, Ray." Oliver nods. "And I'm working a low-end job and I decline working for him. His solution is buying up my current place of employment, forcing me to either work for him in either capacity or become unemployed, right?"

Oliver opens his mouth, shuts it again a moment later when he realises, he doesn't know what to say.

"Yes," he concurs slowly a moment later. "But I think I may have let my dislike for the people you date influence my retelling."

"But you agree that what I just recapped are the facts – right?"

"Right," he agrees hesitantly with a nod after a moment. Because they are, as far as he knows.

"Okay, so out of choices unless, you know, I want to touch my savings – I work for him. Fair enough. But how do I then decide to go on and date someone like that? Someone who forces another person into untenable positions? Who extorts and pressures someone into dating? Who thinks they can buy a girlfriend with haute couture dresses and diamonds? And why the hell did that work? On me, of all people, Oliver!"

Oliver sighs. "Look, I don't know that much about you and Ray. I only know bits and pieces – and he is – was… will be? Doing good work."

"Yeah," Felicity scoffs, "I think you can tell what kind of man – person – someone is by how they treat those who society sees as beneath them. And this man, he uses and abuses his power. Whatever I think I saw – that is not happening."

"Well, far be it from me to discourage you from not running away with Ray," Oliver concedes with a frown, "but I still feel you should give the man a chance to get to know him rather than on some probably biased retelling."

Felicity's nose scrunches up adorably and Oliver chuckles, accepting his own food and drink with a quick nod of thanks to their waiter.

"Anyway. Have I told you yet that you looked adorable on TV? I can't believe I missed out on joining you at pet adoption day. You were good with the families. The kids."

William. Mia. They go unspoken, but he still feels a slight blush on his cheeks at the naked admiration in Felicity's voice and eyes.

Felicity blows out a breath, cheeks puffed as she inhales deeply, a smattering of pink dotting her cheeks as she looks down, fiddling with her fork for a moment, before her eyes snap up to meet his firmly. A decision made, Oliver recognises; he just doesn't know about what.

"You told me a lot of things – about us. About your past. About what happened to you. What you did. But I still don't know a thing about you. Like how you take your coffee. What your favourite food is. What you do when you're angry or sad. How you celebrate when you're happy. What your favourite movie is. Your favourite – well, anything, really," she tells him and his brows furrow.

"Anything you want to know," he offers, despite his confusion, "just ask."

"What if I want to find out for myself?" She asks, and everything about her screams she's nervous. Her ticks, the way she's tugging at her earring, eyes flicking up to him with naked hope but he still doesn't understand. He's close to a realisation but it's not coming together.

"Okay?" He offers, bemused. Then comprehension dawns.

"Wait- are you saying you-" Oliver cuts himself off, unsure if he wants to give voice to what he hopes; what if it's not what she meant?

"Yes," she tells him and he starts then he can't contain his smile anymore.

"Yeah?" He questions hesitantly, hopefully.

She flushes under his attentive eyes, one of her hands wrapped in his without his notice.

"Yes," she confirms shyly.

"Just one date?" He asks and she laughs.

"No. I think that didn't go so well for us last time by all accounts."

Oliver winces slightly at the memory and she pats his arm sympathetically, obviously not having any such vivid memory of the explosion or how hurt she had been.

"So, let's say… 11 dates. Then… well, we'll see."

Eleven entire dates with Felicity – it's more than he dared hope for after everything he told her.

"But strategy meetings are separate," he negotiates and she laughs.

"You'd make a good politician," she says with meaning and he grins right back at her, just as she nods easily acquiescing to his request.

"I'd like to find out for myself, after all, the kind of person you are," she offers and smiles warmly at him. "And who knows, maybe you won't like me at the end of the dates."

Oliver raises an eyebrow. "That won't be happening," he reassures her easily.

"You don't know that," she disputes. "I could be very different from what you think I am like."

Oliver smiles softly.

"People change," he tells this Felicity, just as he once had told his wife. "The way I feel about you doesn't. I love who you are at the core of you. You're you, no matter how you change, what you do or how your experiences shape you."

Felicity softened up considerably at his declaration, but there's still doubt, still hesitation, so Oliver lowers his voice.

"One of the multiverses I met you in- it wasn't nice. Or pleasant," he hedges for a moment before shaking it off. What, of what he'd told her over the last few days really was, after all. "I was a Nazi. You were in a concentration camp and brought before me to be executed."

He can still remember that moment so very vividly, staring at Felicity widened eyes. It had been a moment, one hadn't told her about before – there were thousands of them, to be fair, thousands of moments between he hadn't told her about. Because then he'd still be talking next week, trying to tell her about every little moment between them. He gave her the broad strokes. The story. Some details – but not every conversation. Not every time they looked at each other like there were a thousand conversations passing between them without being given voice. Not every one of the precious words she'd told him that he hoards inside of himself like the most precious treasure.

"You had brown hair," he tells her softly. "You were thin. You wore the-" he chokes but forces himself to continue. "The uniform…" He breathes out. "Do you know why you were brought before me?"

Felicity shakes her head softly, eyes still wide and scared, soft as they land on him, seeking reassurance he doesn't know how to give other than to tighten his grip around her hand.

"You were sharing what little food was given to you with the children."

Felicity closes her eyes, leaning forward to press her forehead against their entangled hands for a moment before righting herself. She uses her free hand to wipe away tears.

"Well," she finally says, "you always hope that if things come down to the wire, you'd be a good person rather than selfish – but you can obviously never know until it happens. Except for in circumstances like this. I- I'm glad I got to know. Thank you, Oliver."

He shakes his head – that's not something he wants her to thank him for.

"What happened?" She asks, no judgement in her tone – he wonders what she'd do if he told her he followed orders – but then again, she always lit the way for him.

"I let you go," he tells her. "You- She asked me why. I told her that it is the duty of the strong to protect the weak."

Felicity blusters up in outrage. "Hey," she objects, "I thought that was really strong of me – alternate me, I mean."

Oliver huffs a laugh, shaking his head in slight amusement.

"I meant you," he tells her, entertained, watching as she deflates and outrage makes way for sheepishness.

"Oh," she voices softly and he laughs.

"You light my way," he tells her, the same way he did once, long ago. "Whenever I don't know wrong from right, when I don't know what to do – you show me. There you were, a woman I'd ostensibly never met before, and yet once again you were telling me without words, showing me by example, just what the right thing to do was." His lips quirk up against his will as he shakes his head gently in bemusement and no small amount of awe, adding, "you always do that."

He tilts his head, thinking about Felicity shooting the person who'd broken into their home just after he came out of prison and amends. "Well, most days. Sometimes you do actually turn to me for help, rare though it is."

Her face brightens and he grins back, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand.

"So," he starts, to lighten the atmosphere, "let me prove to you that the way I feel for you won't change. Would you do me the honour of going out on a date with me tonight, Felicity Megan Smoak?" He draws out her name in that same way that never fails to make her blush.

"Yes," she agrees, voice soft, eyes steadfast on his own.

"I'll look forward to it," Oliver promises, lips tilted upwards and not even trying to hide the love in his eyes, the warmth and adoration he feels every time he looks at her. Felicity – this Felicity, his Felicity, agreed to a date. With him.

She gets flustered so easily just now; it's adorable how she flushes when she reads the love in his eyes for what it is.

"I- I have more questions," she starts hesitatingly, clearly changing topic.

"Anything," he promises easily, unbothered.

"What's the most imminent biggest threat?"

"Biggest?" Oliver frowns for a moment, before shrugging. "Probably the earthquake intended to level the Glades."

He doesn't realise he's spoken in a bit too normal a voice until he hears Dig's breath hiss out in the corner and realises his words were too audible outside of their little table. No one else is sitting close to them, luckily, but it's still not ideal. Dig's jaw is set in a way that tells him that no- his bodyguard will not let this lie nor forget about it. With a sigh and a nod of his head he invites Dig to join them.

"Sorry," Felicity offers, contrite, probably due to offering to meet in a public, easily accessible location – something which shields them just as much as it exposes them. Oliver shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it," he tells her, even as he sits a bit further back from the table to allow for more freedom of movement. Now that his bodyguard is distracted and sitting, Oliver needs to be more alert and able to protect them.

"My dad was part of group of rich men who tried to make the Glades better," he summarises, more for Dig than Felicity who already knows all of the information. But it's always different having it all put together, so he continues.

"Rich people who had someone hurt or die in the Glades. They had a book of names, people they were blackmailing to make sure their dirty business practices were not used on those in the Glades. Then Malcolm returned – and he had a different plan. Level the Glades. Start again. Dissenters died – part of the reason the bomb blew the Queen's Gambit apart that night." Dig's eyes are wide whereas Felicity just nods.

"My dad was starting to grow a conscience, but he didn't tell me, well, anything really, before he killed himself. My mom, to protect her only remaining child, decided to go along with Malcolm. The boat was recovered after the attack – it's in a warehouse somewhere currently. Unidac is working on machines which they hope will counter an earthquake but are steadily being run into ruin. Their warehouses will be up for auction soon – QC will be forced, at Malcolm's directive to acquire them and keep building them. Then, instead of countering an earthquake, they will be used to start one."

Oliver sighs, rubbing tiredly over his eyes. "There are two machines that I know of. Malcolm intends to place on under the place where his wife died. I do not know here the second one will be. Also – Malcolm was trained by the League of Assassins. There is potential that if we reveal his plans, which go against their codex, he would be dealt with by them."

"League of Assassins?" Dig asks, eyebrows raised, looking more disbelieving as Oliver's words wind on, but that appears to have been the last straw.

"There's also Helena Bertinelli – she intends to start a war with the Triad and if a gang war breaks out in Starling City, civilians will be killed in the crossfire," Oliver adds pensively, ignoring Dig's interjection.

"Yes," Felicity tells Dig. "And if you give me a bit of time to build my secure computer, I can show you proof. Until then, just believe that Oliver has no reason to make something up, not with this level of detail. There's no reason for him to."

Dig's eyes cut to her as if to say she's the reason and Felicity giggles.

"Flattering," she says, understanding the implication immediately, "but no. I'm a genius – what he's told me, I've fact-checked as far as I am able to – and trust me, that's very far. So-"

Before Felicity finishes or Dig can rebut, Oliver's phone cuts through the silence. Flustered, he apologises to his not-yet-Date for leaving it on. He is careful to watch his phone as he is the main point of contact for everyone if something happens to them, but he isn't – not yet. And he should have silenced it before coming, but, to be honest, he's forgotten.

"Take it," Felicity encourages him when they both see it's Detective Lance.

"Detective," Oliver says as he answers the phone, mouthing a silent thanks at his maybe-girlfriend. He knows she doesn't say – or offer – things she doesn't mean to, so he hadn't hesitated to follow her instructions and answer the phone, just as curious as she is on what the call could be about.

"Queen. Dinah is on her way here now – would you come over and tell us? About Sara?" Oliver can hear the man's hard swallow even over the phone and flinches slightly.

"I- Yes. Of course. When?"

"6 o'clock," comes the simple reply.

"Tonight?" Oliver frowns and his eyes cut over to Felicity's but she's already nodding for him to agree.

"Yes. 6 pm tonight," Quentin reiterates with firmness which tells him he'd heard and noticed Oliver's hesitation.

"Certainly," he concedes, "we'll be there tonight. I would suggest inviting Tommy – For Laurel. For support."

"You know about that, then?" Quentin asks, sounding curious.

Oliver snorts, reassuring Lance. "Of course, I know they're dating, no matter what they're calling it. Tommy's smitten."

"Yeah, from one billionaire playboy to another," Quentin says, voice angry and harsh.

"Trust me, he is the better man. And he really cares for her," Oliver defends his best friend.

"We'll see," Lance concedes – it's more than he expected, really, so he backs down.

"I'll have my bodyguard with me," Oliver starts, "and I will ask another friend of mine to come – for me."

"This is about my family," Lance bites out aggressively and Oliver frowns.

"That's non-negotiable," he tells him firmly, voice hard, "Mr. Diggle for security and protection and Ms. Smoak will be there for me – for emotional support. The same way you have Dinah. And Laurel will have Tommy."

'Okay?' he mouths to her, softening his demeanour for her even though his shoulders had been stiff and raised, ready for a fight, however verbal, with the man. Luckily, she nods – it's not how he wanted to ask her; he'd intended to explain why and what he wanted to do, not just present her with everything fait-accompli, but Felicity is agreeing surprisingly easily.

Before Quentin can say anything else, anything which might make his hackles rise right back up, Oliver looks at Felicity and offers a more conciliatory tone a more in-depth explanation. He liked Quentin, he reminded himself, even if the man had a singular talent for finding weak spots and continuously prodding them.

"Look, Mr. Lance," because the man is not dealing with him as the Detective right now, but as Sara's father. Laurel's father. "To say the last few years haven't been good would be an understatement. There's a reason Sara preferred you to think her dead over knowing what she had to do. So, I'm asking. I need her there – for me. For me to get through this, to talk about it, I need her there. Please."

A sigh comes from Quentin over the phone. "Alright. Alright. Queen. You can take your support-girlfriend to the family meeting."

For a moment, just a moment, Oliver thinks about disputing the term but, well, it is surprisingly accurate.

"Thank you."

Another pause. "You really have changed, haven't you, Queen," Quentin states more than asks, sounding half-surprised, half-defeated.

"People change," Oliver concedes with a shrug and a side-eye at Felicity. "But yes, I have changed."

Another pause, then just a curt reminder of, "six," before Quentin hangs up without so much as a goodbye. Oliver stares at his phone for a moment longer before turning it off.

"Sorry, Dig – I'll pay you overtime, of course. Twice your current rate?"

It's part-bribe for him to agree and partly in the hope that he'll agree to put a break on their prior conversation.

"This isn't over," Dig states and Oliver nods acquiescently. "Then yes, I'll be there."

They both know that with the kind of hours Dig would be pushing that day he really should call on someone else to fill in for him. They also know that dangling more knowledge of Oliver's time on the boat and the island is too much to resist and that Dig would want to be there himself.

"Felicity," Oliver starts, turning back to his maybe-date. "I'm sorry for cancelling our date before it ever even started."

Felicity laughs, shaking her head. "That's why we have eleven of them," she reminds him and his grin broadens at the reminder.

"Good call," he tells her and she nods, tapping her head.

"Genius," she reminds him and manages to elicit a chuckle from him.

"Genius," he agrees and she nods firmly as if to tell him 'just so'.

"And I'm sorry I didn't get to ask you properly about coming with me to the Lance family dinner… briefing?"

Felicity shrugs. "So do it now."

Oliver smiles at the ease with which she responds, how easy it is for her to quell his worries.

"Felicity, I have this thing coming up. I'll be sitting down with the Lance family – Dinah, Quentin – whom you met – Laurel and my best friend Tommy. I need to tell them about the night the Gambit went down. And about Sara, the Amazo, Ivo and Slade. I would appreciate if you could accompany me. For emotional support."

"And evidence," Felicity suggests and he frowns.

"Evidence?" Oliver finds himself querying.

Felicity logs into her tablet, flicking through the images before pushing it back to him. There are three snapshots of Sara – two in-gear, one in normal clothing in what Oliver recognises to be Nanda Parbat.

Huffing out a laugh, Oliver shakes his head lightly, staring at the blonde genius in front of him with naked admiration.

"Every time I think you couldn't possibly surprise me anymore; you find some new ways to impress me. This is – that's incredible. Their footage isn't even stored as far as I know."

"It is," Felicity corrects, "but not for long. Except for footage requisitioned for assistance with a police investigation into, say, a nearby murder? Well, then it's just a matter of hacking into their police files and searching through it and that's child's play. For me, anyway."

"Thank you," he tells her warmly and she smiles brightly at him. "Is that a yes, then?"

"Of course," she tells him easily. "Can't go there without your emotional support-girlfriend, can you?"

He grimaces. "You heard that?"

Felicity nods, giggling at how uncomfortable he looks.

"And are you?"

"Am I what?" the blonde opposite him queries, head tilted.

"My girlfriend," Oliver clarifies, ignoring Dig's painful groan beside him or the way the man extracts himself and backs away to his original position for easy supervision, clearly deciding he doesn't need to be here for this part of the conversation.

Felicity hesitates, eyeing him uncertainly, but before he has a chance to backtrack, a smile lights up her face.

"Yes," she tells him. "I am," not a trace of doubt in her voice. "Does that mean we can finally get to the kissing part?"

He laughs, loud and clear, at her unrestrained eagerness but for once she is not abashed by her own enthusiasm or the eyes Oliver's drawn.

In lieu of answering, Oliver stands up out of his chair and kneels down beside her, leaning over so he can kiss her – watching as her eyes widen, her cheeks flush at his movement. Felicity's leaning into him easily, erasing the remaining distance between them. Her lips are just as soft as he remembers, just as warm, just as gentle.

He cannot remember if her kiss was this tentative last time, but this time their first kiss is not under pressure, not a goodbye in the hospital, not a ruse for Slade – this time their first kiss is just for them. And it firms up quickly, when she realises, he's just as enthusiastic, just as happy, for them to be finally kissing.

It's easy to lose himself in the slide of lips and tongue, leaning into the gentle hand on his neck she's using to cradle him closer. All too easy to forget the world at the taste of her – a taste which never seems to change, even coated in coffee and chocolate. She just tastes like Felicity, like warmth and sunshine personified. Like peace. Like reprieve, mercy and forgiveness. Like everything he's ever wanted and will always want.

God, he loves this woman so much. He softens their kisses into something which would be more acceptable for the public forum they're in, before placing a few butterfly kisses on her lips and then forces himself to separate his lips from hers, leaning so only his forehead touches hers, so he can look into her beautiful eyes.

"Wow," she mutters, her breath skating over his lips with how close they are, eyes wide with wonder. "You really know how to kiss," she blurts out and Oliver ducks his head, laughing softly as she blushes at her inadvertent words.

"Worth waiting for?" He asks, winking at her, and she laughs, too, slapping his shoulder in silent reprimand.

"I think we should go for a walk," Felicity tells him and Oliver stands up, easily amenable to the change of plans. He can feel and see a few eyes skitter away and only now it occurs to him what other people might have thought of him kneeling in front of his new, beautiful girlfriend. Luckily, she is distracted and has not noticed the attention or drawn the same conclusions he has. Not yet, anyway.

"Anything you want," he promises easily, grabbing his jacket and ready to leave at a moment's notice. She smiles up at him.

"Figured we'd talk about what kind of evidence we can cobble together. Make tonight a little easier."

"Great plan," Oliver comments lightly, already hating every second of it.

She reads him easily enough, laughing, tangling her hands with his as she pulls him along.

"Come on," then does one of her cute little badly-done winks, "we don't have to just talk."

He laughs, easily speeding up to keep pace with her, Dig a few steps behind ensuring Felicity's safety. His girlfriend's safety. Because she did agree – to being his girlfriend, going on dates, helping him plan out the Arrow's ventures and helping him stop the upcoming disasters and bad guys.

Life is perfect.


Author's Notes:

Love reviews, more reviews, please!

We'll get to the Lance meeting next chapter. Finally. The reason this whole fanfic sprung into existence in the first place. Yay. But not a word of it written yet, so don't hold your breath for as quick an update.

Uploaded yet another Olicity timetravel fanfic - still working on my OC-dog insert one. So, yeah. Split focus. By, like, a lot :( Sorry guys. Please review and comment!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the heavier focus on dialogue. And yay, Oliver has secured himself not only multiple dates but also a girlfriend - Olicity is officially live now :)