AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm not a lawyer or a cop, so everything in here might be inaccurate. Let's just pretend it's not. This chapter liberally borrows from the events that happen in ep 2x18, Deathstroke.

She had too much so with a smile you
took some.
Of everything she had you had
Absolutely nothing, so you took some.
At first, just a little.

~Ted Hughes, The Others

36 hours was a long time, but when Felicity broke it down it seemed even worse. 36 hours were made up of 2,160 minutes. And 2,160 minutes were made up of 12,960 seconds. And the fact that she'd taken the time to figure that out meant that she was officially bored.

Staring at the ceiling wasn't helping. She begrudgingly slid onto the floor and did 25 sit ups, a new personal best, and then, on the rush of that achievement, pushed herself through 50 leg lunges. In retrospect, those might have been a mistake. If the guys came to break her out now she wasn't sure she'd be able to run. Her legs hurt and there was a very strong possibility that she'd pulled something. 'No pain, no gain,' she thought to herself, stretching her leg out.

When the high of her workout had passed and the reality set in that it had barely taken up 25 minutes (1,500 seconds), she threw herself onto her bunk and finally admitted something to herself, something she'd always suspected, but hadn't really wanted to admit. She hated exercise.

It was by no means a surprising revelation, but in the boredom of her holding cell it felt profound. It was, after all, something she'd suspected for years. Since college probably, when her roommates had all made time for daily visits to the gym and trained for various 5K's while she stayed home and stared at her unopened Wii Fit.

Sitting had always been more of her thing.

Maybe prison would change that. Maybe if she ended up getting sent to the big house she would finally focus on getting in shape. Like, seriously good shape. Like, Oliver and Digg levels of fitness. She imagined how impressed they would be when they visited.

She thought idly of throwing herself into this new chapter in her life right away. There was plenty of room in the cell for her to also do jumping jacks or squats, but weren't people supposed to see a doctor before starting an exercise regimen? Those sculpted abs would have to wait a bit longer.

Her skin itched as her sweat cooled and her fingers were twitchy as she sat there alone, bored, and a little irritated that no one had come. Sure, breaking her out of prison might have been too much to expect, but someone from Team Arrow should at least have visited by now. Oliver would have told Digg she'd been arrested, wouldn't he? She knew things were bad between the two men, but they still would have spoken about something like this.

Maybe they were there, though. Maybe Diggle and Oliver were in the precinct at that very moment, angrily demanding her release. Maybe Oliver was calling the governor and asking for help, and Digg might have Lyla using every ARGUS resource at her disposal to secure her freedom. Not that she really needed ARGUS levels of intervention. All they had to do was cross check the photos Laurel had of her with Felicity's calendar. Those time stamps were completely fabricated; surely she'd been at a business meeting or dinner when at least one of them was supposed to have happened. The guys would have known what to look for if they'd just come to see her.

The lack of visitation was confusing enough, but the total silence was baffling. Shouldn't someone have sent her a message to let her know what was happening? Lance would have made sure she'd gotten it. Although, she hadn't seen him since he'd stopped by to talk about Sara. Could his visit have gotten him in trouble? Or her? Maybe she wasn't supposed to have spoken to anyone. Maybe she was actually in solitary confinement because the SCPD was trying to break her through isolation.

It wasn't a bad plan, really.

Felicity shook her head, attempting to dismiss the paranoia, but the lack of communication from the outside world was starting to get to her. She'd been sitting in her cell for so long that she was starting to think all sorts of crazy things. Things like going back to her natural hair color or buying a pair of formal shorts. She'd always been against them, because they were ridiculous and something her mother would want her to wear, but Thea Queen had been wearing them lately and always looked amazing. Granted, Thea was built like a model and looked great in everything, but Felicity's legs were nothing to scoff at. Maybe she could rock a pair, too. Especially now that she was going to be a fitness buff.

"Formal shorts," she whispered to the cinder block wall, before sitting up and running a hand over her face. "I'm losing my mind."

Still, bad fashion choices were more easily dealt with than the thoughts she was having about Sara. Was she really involved in the deaths of those men? It was possible, but Felicity didn't want to accept it. Sara had been an assassin, yes, and, well, she had killed that photographer, but that had been an extreme circumstance. She found it hard to imagine Sara purposefully going out night after night seeking vengeance against strangers.

Maybe she was being naïve, though. Maybe the Mirakuru had snapped Sara's control. The thought made her nauseous.

By the time Margaret Brent and the deputy Felicity had made blush the day before walked back to her holding cell, Felicity was well past stir crazy. "You're free to go," Margaret announced. "They're not pursuing charges at this time."

Felicity jumped up from the bench, ignoring the twinge in her leg as a wide smile spread across her face. "Really? Just like that?"

Margaret nodded. "You're still a person of interest, but they didn't find anything that directly linked you to the drugs in Sebastian Blood's system. They're going to keep looking, though."

Felicity shrugged. "Let them. I know you probably hear this all the time, but I had nothing to do with it. And lucky for you, I'm not the best at lying, so you can take my word to the bank. Which, actually, you probably already are. You seem very expensive."

Margaret ignored her. "Oliver's body guard is waiting outside to take you home. My apologies, but with everything that's going on right now, I need to get back to the office. Why don't we talk more about this tomorrow?"

"Sure." Felicity nodded, running a hand through her hair as they led her out. She couldn't wait to get home and shower. "Everything okay?"

Margaret froze. "You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Thea Queen was abducted last night."

Being released didn't take as long as being booked did, but the minutes were still ticking by at an agonizing pace. The bullpen was more manic than it had been the last time she'd been there, with extra police officers filling the already crowded space and the phones ringing non-stop. She barely noticed the commotion, though. There was a corkboard at the end of the room with Thea's picture pinned to the center. Felicity couldn't take her eyes off it.

As soon as the deputy finished processing her release papers, he led her out to the lobby where a tired looking Digg was waiting.

"Hey," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. "Sorry I couldn't get down here sooner."

Felicity took a moment of comfort from his embrace, letting her own arms circle around him before stepping back. "What happened?"

Digg shook his head. "There was a press conference scheduled by Moira's campaign last night, but Thea never showed up. Oliver thinks Slade has her."

"Is he right?"

"I don't know."

"So what's next? Where's Oliver?"

"I spoke to Moira's security team a few minutes ago. He and his mother are heading to QC."

"Should we meet him there, then?" Felicity hesitated. "I mean, I know things are bad between you right now, but-"

Digg crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you want to discuss this or should we just go help him find her?"

"You're not going to argue?"

"Felicity," Digg sighed. "It's his sister. Whatever issues Oliver and I are having, he needs us. And so does she."

Felicity nodded. "Let's go."

Traffic was light on the way to QC and Felicity and Diggle made it through the security checkpoint at the garage without issue.

They were waiting in the lobby for the elevator when red and blue lights started flashing into the room from outside. Felicity looked out the windows, watching as a police motorcade pulled up. About halfway down the line of cars was a large, black SUV whose door flew open before the rest of the vehicles had fully come to a stop. Oliver jumped out and QC security ran towards him, followed immediately by a swarm of press.

"What is he doing?" Felicity asked. "Why didn't they come in through the garage?"

"No idea," Diggle said, his words tinged with anxiety.

Moira Queen gracefully emerged from the SUV and reached for Oliver, but he pulled his arm away, covering the move by stepping back and closing the vehicle's door. Felicity crossed over to the entryway, waiting for them to rush in, but the media wasn't letting them by. Cameras were flashing like crazy and the number of reporters hurling questions was almost overwhelming. Oliver was frozen in place on the sidewalk, one hand still gripping the door of his car. Felicity's heart stuttered to a halt when she noticed the change sweeping over his body.

His face was turning red and his shoulders were tensing, his breathing growing deeper as his free hand clenched into a fist. Even from a distance she could see the veins in his forehead straining under his skin. She ran without thinking, pushing open the door and darting through the crowd of reporters in a desperate attempt to reach him. A cop grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back and Felicity whirled around to face him. "FBI! Let go of me," she ordered.

She was shocked when he obeyed. She'd probably regret the ruse later when Laurel Lance added impersonating a federal officer to the list of charges against her, but there wasn't any time to think about it now. One of Oliver's hands was gripping the handle of the SUV door, and the metal was starting to buckle.

"Oliver," she shouted, running towards him again. "Oliver, no!"

His eyes narrowed at her menacingly as she ran the last few feet and his hand came away from the door, the handle falling loose when he released it. It clattered to the ground, the sound of it swallowed up by the din of people surrounding them, and then he was moving towards her. In less than two strides he had her in his arms and his mouth was crashing down onto hers.

He kissed her roughly, not paying attention to the reporters or to his mother, who was standing beside them calling his name and ordering them to stop. Felicity felt her cheeks flushing, knowing the attention was bad, that this was really not smart, and oh, right she'd told him they wouldn't be doing this anymore.

She pulled back, but Oliver's mouth chased hers, kissing her more insistently as his arms tugged her back against him. Felicity could feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat echoing against her chest and a wave of emotions began rolling through her. She was embarrassed, yes, but there was something heady and exciting about being so wanted. Her hands gripped his arms and she could feel all the pent up energy and emotion coiling through his muscles. He needed to calm down.

She kissed him back softly, her hands sliding up to gently stroke the back of his head, her fingers scratching lightly against his neck until she felt some of the tension in his body starting to ease. The chaos around them seemed to melt away as the pressure of his mouth softened against her lips, his pulse slowing until the only erratic heartbeat was hers.

Oliver's arms eventually loosened and her heels slid back down to the ground gently. "Hey," Oliver said, trailing a finger down her cheek.

Her hands slid off his shoulders as the world came abruptly back into focus. If she'd thought the frenzy of the cameras had been bad before, it was worse now. The lights were almost blinding.

"Mr. Queen!" Felicity jumped at the shout of a familiar voice and turned to find a very unhappy looking Detective Lance.

"It's not what it looks like," she rushed, stepping back from Oliver. "Well, it is what it looks like, but there's an explanation…which I can't tell you." She adjusted her glasses. "Please don't hate us."

The detective shot Oliver a withering look. "I don't know what explanation would make this right. Stay away from my daughter." His turned back to Felicity, his eyes never quite meeting her own. "Both of you."

Felicity shook her head, her cheeks hot with shame. "I'm so sorry."

"Next time your friend needs me, tell him to call me directly." He turned and walked away and she blinked, fighting back tears.

The universe still thought there was more fun to be had at her expense though and the reporters started shouting questions in her direction. "Was his driver not rich enough for you?" one reporter asked. "Did you kill Blood for Oliver Queen?" another shouted. Oliver took a step towards the swarm of journalists, his body tensing again, but Felicity grabbed his hand.

"Don't. Please."

She pulled him towards QC, with Moira following directly behind as security helped them make their way through the crowd. Digg ushered them in through the doors and then rushed them into a waiting elevator.

Once they were inside, Felicity dropped Oliver's hand and focused on not shrinking under the weight of Moira's stare. Diggle stood next to her, a solid, firm presence that somehow made her feel worse. He wouldn't look at her, his eyes were firmly glued to the floor indicator lights above the doors.

A small bubble of anxiety started growing in her stomach and with each passing second the bubble grew larger, her hands becoming sweaty as the elevator suddenly seemed to get smaller and warmer. Moira wouldn't stop staring at her and Felicity wasn't sure if she should move out from between Oliver and Digg or if that would make things worse. Oliver's hand came up and landed on the small of Felicity's back but then slid an inch lower and she shrieked, jumping away from his touch and knocking into Diggle.

"Really, Miss Smoak." Moira said, huffing in irritation.

"S-sorry," Felicity said, stammering for an explanation that didn't include Oliver's hand's journey south, "I just don't do well in awkward situations."

"It's not awkward," Oliver said.

"Oh, it's definitely awkward." Diggle muttered.

The elevator finally reached the executive level and Felicity bolted out, heading straight to her desk. She needed some space and placing a large object between her and Oliver seemed like the best plan she'd ever had.

A detective walked up to the Queens as they made their way in, and she watched as they were guided immediately into Oliver's office. Diggle stayed behind, crossing to her desk and staring at her knowingly.

"Just going off to war sex, huh?"

"Shut up, Digg." She focused on booting up her computer.

Diggle shrugged. "It's what you told me."

"Well, technically," she said, hoping the redness of her cheeks wasn't deepening, "he's still going off to war."

Diggle crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "He'll always be heading off to war, Felicity."

She had no response to that.

It was hustle and bustle for hours. A command center had been set up in the office and Oliver and Moira released updated statements about Thea to the media before answering more questions from the police. Oliver was like a beast, barking orders and seething in his office.

She didn't blame him. They were basically hamstrung being at QC and she wished she and Digg had gone to the Foundry instead. Still, if the best thing for Thea was for Oliver to play CEO, Felicity would play the dutiful assistant. She clicked on another club goer's Instagram page and rubbed her tired eyes, the strain of her work and the past few days catching up with her.

She'd been scouring social media for the past two hours. Hundreds of people had been at the club the night Thea had been abducted, and most of them had taken selfies and group shots in order to celebrate making it past the velvet ropes. There had to be a clue in at least one of them. She clicked for another ten minutes before finally noticing the same car idling outside the doors of the club in photo after photo. She remotely accessed the security cameras at Verdant and scanned through the footage. The car had been there for most of the evening but then disappeared around the time Thea would have left. She zoomed in on the plate with excitement, but the image was too blurry. She bit her lip in frustration. She had no way to clean it up from QC.

"Just find the man in the mask," she heard Oliver shout from the other room. She looked up, watching through the glass wall as Detective Lance glared at him, ignoring the command until Oliver turned away and stormed out, making his way to her desk.

She panicked a little as he approached, afraid of what he might do, but he seemed to grow calmer the closer he came. It should have been a good thing, but somehow it made her more apprehensive. It wasn't fair. She needed to talk to him, but everyone in the room seemed to have stopped what they were doing so they could turn to watch them. Oliver needed to keep his distance.

Not that it really mattered. There was no way to hide what had happened- the photos were already making the rounds on the gossip blogs. Doing what they'd done had been a mistake and she wasn't sure how they were going to handle the repercussions.

It couldn't happen again, though. She needed to set boundaries- real boundaries that she wouldn't back down from no matter how great the temptation. It would take strength, resolve, and determination but she had plenty of all three. Oliver was out of control, but she had no excuse for her behavior. She needed to be strong enough for both of them.

"You're not my boyfriend," Felicity whispered when he stopped in front of her desk.

"What?"

The flash of a camera from right outside the office doors saved her from having to explain. A paparazzo started calling out questions through the glass, and even though his voice was muffled, she caught the gist of them. A young girl was missing, but the reporter only wanted to know how long Oliver had been sleeping with his drug-dealing secretary.

Oliver's shoulders tensed as he turned towards the doors. "Diggle," he said lowly, his voice very close to a growl.

"I'm on it," Digg said, slipping out the doors.

Oliver turned back to her, his face softening as his eyes swept over her face. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. I might have a lead on Thea, but I can't do much more with it from here. I need my system at our other office so I can clear up some images I found on the internet."

Oliver paused and for a moment she thought he might be upset with her. Sure, it had been reckless to hack into several cell phone, social media, and credit card companies from QC with just about the entirety of the SCPD standing 10 feet away, but she figured Oliver wouldn't mind so long as his sister got home safely.

She was about to walk him through what she'd been doing when Isabel stalked into the room, dramatically shouting into her cell phone that someone would be held personally responsible if any more inappropriate press requests made their way through to Oliver or Moira. Felicity flipped over to Oliver's email on her computer and frowned. There wasn't anything in there that indicated anyone was reaching out to Oliver, inappropriately or not. He had the emptiest inbox of any CEO ever. Maybe someone had called his cellphone.

Isabel hung up. "You're very scary," Oliver said. "Thank you."

Isabel smiled, cutting her back to Felicity as she focused on Oliver. Something about the whole display wasn't right. Isabel had been covering for Oliver the past few weeks and months, but it hadn't been as a personal favor. Felicity had been there day after day, and she knew the woman was trying to make it clear she was the one running things, if not in name then in practice.

Isabel went on, talking about taking things off Oliver's plate, which was fine, Felicity guessed. Maybe she just wanted credit from him, or gratitude. Or another roll in the hay. Felicity couldn't be bothered to deal with whatever the woman's motivations might be at the moment, she just needed to get out of there.

She was gathering up her things when Oliver leaned down and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen. She watched as he started scribbling something down, her eyes widening as she read his words. Oliver was making Isabel the acting CEO.

She slapped her hand down onto the paper before he could sign it. "No!"

Oliver's hand froze. "It's fine Felicity. The board has to vote tonight and I don't have time to deal with it."

"Yeah, okay. I get that. But no." She slid the pad out from under his hand, her eyes trained on Isabel. "I'll call Walter. He can step in for you."

Isabel tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "Why are you here? I thought you were arrested for murder."

Felicity smiled. "That was just a misunderstanding."

"I'm sure."

Oliver's eyes darted back and forth between the two women before landing back on the paper under Felicity's hand. "Felicity's right," he said slowly. "Walter will stand in for me."

Isabel was usually inscrutable, but her eyes flashed with anger before she could rein her emotions in. For a moment, Felicity felt fear, as if the woman might actually be dangerous, but that was ridiculous. She was a business woman, not a secret member of the League of Assassins. Isabel gritted her teeth. "Fine." She stalked back to the conference room, but before she disappeared she turned and shot Felicity a look that made Moira Queen's stare seem like child's play.

"You're right, Oliver. She is scary."

He took the pad out from under her hand and tore off the page. "Don't worry about Isabel." He tore the paper in half. "Just get Digg and do what you need to."

Felicity nodded as she picked up her bag and Oliver walked to her side, adjusting the strap of it on her shoulder. "Felicity, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I didn't come to see you last night. There was a lot going on."

For all the muscle mass he had gained from the Mirakuru, Oliver looked somewhat fragile standing there, his eyes strained and red. "You don't need to apologize, Oliver. I just wish I could have helped."

"You're helping now."

She smiled. "I'll call Walter from the car. Don't sign anything else over to Isabel while I'm not here, okay? Isabel bad."

"I know. You were the one that wanted me to date her."

"I never-" her words cut off as Oliver raised his eyebrows at her. They were standing close, his hand still resting on her shoulder as the memory from months ago flooded her mind. On the night she had told him it would be okay to date Isabel, they'd ended up standing in a very similar position. "That was the night you kissed my cheek."

Oliver nodded slightly. "That's not where I wanted to kiss you."

Alarm bells went off in her head. "No?"

"No." Oliver's hand slid up her neck. "I wanted to kiss you here." His thumb swept over her lower lip. "I had been thinking about it the whole time you were sitting in my office. I had been thinking about it for weeks."

"Weeks?"

"Months, maybe." Oliver took a small step towards her and leaned forward, his eyes darting to her mouth.

Boundaries, she reminded herself, taking a panicky breath when she noticed that everyone was staring at them again. Resolve, determination, and boundaries.

She stepped back. "Oliver, we can't."

He nodded, his hand falling away. "You're right. Thea."

She nodded. Thea wasn't actually what she'd been thinking about, but any port in a storm would do.

"Go. I'll meet you as soon as Walter gets here."

He walked her to the elevator and when she stepped in she smiled at him reassuringly. "We'll find her, Oliver."

"I know," he said, his hand stopping the door from closing. "And after we do, Felicity, you and I need to talk."

She almost laughed. Talking had never really been their strong suit.

The Foundry was still rigged to blow, which was crazy. Tiny blue lights were flashing at Felicity from all around the room, but she did her best to ignore them as she ran the screen grab of the plate through her image enhancing software. Once she could read it clearly, she hacked into the DMV and then into the rental company the car was registered to. When Slade Wilson's name popped up as the person who'd rented it, she couldn't stop herself from doing a fist pump. She ran the plate through her system and turned back to Diggle.

"How far out is he?"

"Five minutes."

Felicity nodded. She could do a lot with five minutes.

When Oliver arrived, she had a location. She walked him through the process of finding Slade's car and, after he and Diggle debated the possibility of it being a trap, he went to change.

She and Digg sat in silence while they waited. It was hard being back in the Foundry again. Two days ago she'd been willing to walk away, but now it seemed unfair. This was her home, the place she felt most fully herself, could she really just leave it? Uncertainty crept in as she tried to imagine her future outside of the team. Who would she even be without the Arrow? Who would he be without her? She felt like a traitor, but whether she was betraying herself, the city, or Oliver more she wasn't quite sure.

Diggle slowly made his way over to the gun locker, his hand resting on the handle of the drawer for a long moment.

"You might be right about it being too easy," Felicity said cautiously, glancing over at him. "He might need backup."

Digg stared at the drawer and then nodded before pulling it open. "This doesn't mean I'm back on the team."

Oliver strode out, fastening his quiver over his shoulder. It was something she always loved watching him do, but the sight of it made her nervous. For all of Oliver's Mirakuru enhanced strength, Slade would still have the advantage in terms of weaponry. He needed something more. "Oliver," she started, a plan forming in her mind, "where did you put the box of drugs I gave you?"

He cocked his head. "I put it back in the drawer."

Felicity stilled. "You knew it was here?"

Oliver shrugged as she slowly stood up from her chair. "I figured you'd tell me about it when you found a way to fix us." He smiled at her softly, and Felicity felt her breath catch. When she'd walked away she'd been certain he was gone, but there he was, standing in front of her. The man she believed in. The man who believed in her right back.

She turned away from him, blinking away tears. "I need a dart."

Oliver walked off to get one, and she retrieved the box, finding the Pancuronium as he came back. "This one causes full paralysis in three minutes," she explained, taking it from his hand and loading it. "I don't know how long it will last or even if it will definitely work on him, but it's the best I can do right now."

Oliver placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you."

Five minutes later he and Digg were heading out the door. Felicity stood in the cavernous space of the basement nervously, sending a prayer up to a god she wasn't exactly sure she believed in to see them back safe.

She listened to the mission over the comms, hearing Diggle and Oliver make their way in to find Slade, but not Thea. There was shouting and taunting and then the thwick of an arrow as Oliver shot the dart into Slade. The man went quiet pretty quickly, so she guessed the drug worked. That was a victory, no matter how hollow it felt. Oliver had Digg call Lance to come make an arrest and then addressed her directly. "I need to change and head home so I can be there when they notify us," he said, his voice strained. "Keep looking for Thea."

Felicity nodded as she heard him click off. She rested her head in her hands and stared at the image of Slade's car for a long while. It had been a trap, she supposed, but it didn't make sense. What was the man up to? She scanned through the rental company's records, noticing the car had been rented weeks ago. "Let's see where else you've been going," she said, widening the parameters of her earlier search to the day the rental agreement began.

Whatever Slade had been doing, he hadn't been doing it subtly. The car had been all over the city, but the majority of its time was spent parked outside of Verdant and Queen Consolidated. He'd practically been begging them to come find him. In more than half of the images she found he was parked next to or being tailed by a small black sports car. Felicity sat up straighter. 'And who do you belong to?' she wondered.

She was entering the new plate into her system when there was a knock on the basement door. In the almost two years they'd worked in the Foundry there had never been a knock. Not once. Not ever. Felicity rose wearily from her desk and turned, her eyes flying up to the door. Maybe she had imagined it.

She tilted her head, walking towards the stairs as she waited to hear if the sound would come again. She flinched when an even sharper rap echoed through the room. Her fingers gripped the stair's railing tightly. She wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with whatever this was. Of course, that didn't mean she wouldn't have to.

She ran her hands over her hair with a sigh and looked around the basement, trying to remember if the taser Digg had given her had been charged recently. She closed her eyes, remembering his stern lecture on making sure she did it weekly, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd even touched it. Digg was going to kill her.

She turned back to her desk and pulled up the security feed on her computer. Standing alone in a circle of dim light just outside the door was an attractive woman wearing a gorgeously fitted cream suit and a severe bun. Felicity felt a little relieved, but then paused. Just because this woman looked like someone who played bridge and ordered salads with the dressing on the side, didn't mean she wasn't a threat. She knew enough beautiful women that were also highly trained killing machines to let her guard down around someone that looked like a model.

Although, maybe she was a model.

The skirt was a little long for it, but she could have been any of the women that flocked to the club on the weekends, dreaming of meeting Oliver Queen and making him fall in love. Felicity watched the woman for a second and then changed her mind after taking in the completely indifferent expression on the woman's face. Maybe she was just one of Moira's campaign staff.

The woman in question turned her head, looking directly into the camera and Felicity scrambled back from the computer, forgetting for a second that she couldn't be seen through the screen. "I don't like to be kept waiting, Mr Queen."

Felicity clenched her teeth. Of course a beautiful and mysterious woman with some sort of connection to Oliver would pop up out of the woodwork that night. Other people would get to go home and take a shower or do shots of tequila after a day like she'd had, but not her. She must really have done something bad in a past life to deserve this.

She walked up the stairs quietly, not exactly sure what she should do. She couldn't just let the woman in, but she couldn't leave her out there knocking and calling Oliver's name. The club was closed, but that didn't mean there weren't any members of the staff out there or any paparazzi lurking about. Felicity pressed the button on the monitor by the door and blinked as the view screen lit up the darkness. She looked the woman over again. Would a killer really wear a cream colored suit? She pressed the intercom button. "Who's calling, please?" She cringed at how polite she sounded. She hadn't meant to use her assistant voice.

One of the woman's perfectly tweezed eyebrows arched up. "Ah. Miss Smoak, I presume."

That was slightly alarming. "How did you know that?"

"Well," the woman said, a wry look on her face, "you don't sound like John."

Felicity's eyes bugged. "I'm sorry," she began, her voice sharper. "Who are you exactly?"

"My name is Amanda Waller."

Felicity wanted to laugh. Diggle said Lyla called Amanda Waller "The Wall", but this woman looked like Beyonce's cousin. "Yeah, okay and I'm Nyssa al Ghul." She took a dramatic pause and lowered her voice. "Heir to the Demon."

It turned out that making a joke was a mistake. In the blink of an eye the woman who didn't look a thing like an assassin had a large gun pointing at the door. Felicity would have been impressed by her speed if she weren't trying to figure out the likelihood of the weapon containing armor piercing bullets. If this woman really was Amanda Waller, it seemed like a decent bet.

"Whoa," Felicity exclaimed through the speaker. "That was a joke! A bad one, apparently." The woman didn't lower the gun. The door was reinforced steel, but Felicity thought that might not be enough. "I, uh, I don't even know the al Ghuls," she blurted out. "And the only thing I'm heir to is an embarrassingly large collection of Lucite heels."

Waller's shoulders finally relaxed and she lowered the gun to her side. "Open the door Miss Smoak," she said. "Unless you want me to blow it open myself."

Felicity stared at the woman's face and then jumped a little when she realized she wasn't kidding. She didn't know where on that suit the woman could be hiding another weapon, but it was ARGUS. They put bombs in people's heads. Maybe her suit buttons were made of explosives.

She pressed down on the intercom firmly. "How do I know you are who you say you are?"

To her credit, the woman only shot daggers through the camera lens for a moment before reaching into a pocket and pulling out a badge. She lifted it to the camera and Felicity gasped as she opened the door a little, slipping out into the empty club before closing it firmly behind her. She reached out and took the badge. It was heavy. And shiny. "Wow. I didn't think you guys would really have these. Not that it's weird that you do. I mean, you're the boss. Bosses get badges, but what about the others? Like, do the guys with the bombs in their heads get them? Or is that just not cost efficient?"

Amanda stared at Felicity blankly, reaching out and taking the badge from her fingers with a quick snap. "As charming as this conversation is, Miss Smoak," she said, tucking the badge away. "I need to speak with Oliver."

Felicity tried to keep her face smooth, as if it wasn't at all strange that the head of ARGUS wanted to talk to him. "The club is closed. Why would Oliver be here?"

"I don't know, Miss Smoak. Perhaps for the same reason you are."

Felicity swallowed. "I'm just working on the computers. There was a fire a few weeks back. Lots of damage."

"None of us have time for these games," Waller said, pushing Felicity out of the way and reaching for the handle of the door.

Felicity reacted instinctively, grabbing Waller's arm to still the movement. "I said he's not here."

Waller turned, glaring down at Felciity's hand on her arm for a moment before looking her in the eye. "I don't think you want to do that."

Felicity let go immediately, and Waller wiped off her sleeve as if Felicity's touch was offensive. "I came here as a favor. I have information he may need."

"What information? How do you guys even know each other?"

Amanda smiled, which was somehow more disturbing than the look of disapproval she'd been wearing. "Oliver and I are old friends."

Felicity's skin pebbled and she ran her hands over her arms absentmindedly. Those were the same words Slade had said to her the night Roy died. "Oliver has a lot of old friends," she began. "They don't always have his best interests at heart."

"I made him the man he is today, Miss Smoak. He and I once worked… very closely together." The woman's lips curved into a more predatory smile and Felicity fought back a surge of jealousy. That seemed like quite a euphemism.

"Funny, I've never heard him mention you."

"Well, Oliver doesn't trust many people with his secrets."

Felicity rolled her eyes. This was a game she had no interest in playing. "Look, old friend or not. He's really not here. I'm not hiding him in the basement under a desk or anything. You can wait at the bar, if you'd like."

There was a buzzing sound and Waller reached into her pocket for a small mobile device. She scanned it and then frowned. "I'm afraid there isn't time for that. It seems Oliver is going to be having a busy night. Tell him to come see me when he's done."

"What do you mean? And come see you where?"

Waller pocketed the gadget and then turned, walking away without another word.

"Guess they don't teach manners at ARGUS," Felicity muttered. As soon as the club's door banged shut and she was sure Waller was really gone, she tore back down into the basement. She ran straight to her computer, scanning the window that was already hacked into the SCPD. There were crimes being reported, but nothing major was going on in the city.

Her phone rang and she grabbed for it, clicking accept as soon as she saw Digg's name.

"John? What's going on?"

Digg sounded relieved. "It's over, Felicity. Thea walked into the precinct five minutes ago."