THE FOUNDRY

A/N: This Arrow/Olicity one-shot is my take on how Season 3 Episode 1 "The Calm" should have ended. It is written from Oliver Queen's point of view, as he reflects on his relationship with Felicity Smoak in the silence and solitude of "the Foundry" (which is, based on an interview that I saw on YouTube, what actor Stephen Amell said the Arrow's secret base of operations from Seasons 1-3 should really be called instead of the "lair" or the "Arrow Cave," which many fans and viewers prefer to call it).

This is my first attempt at writing fiction since I was a tweener, and my very first at writing fanfiction, so I hope you will like it. It's just that I've become a fan of the Arrow series because of how interesting the story keeps unfolding from season to season, and of course, because of the endearing chemistry of our favorite couple, Olicity! I've tried my best to depict the essence of true love the way I believe it should be - passionate, yet patient and pure - avoiding provocative scenes or vulgar language, so this is rated for a wider audience to appreciate. I do hope you'll give it a try, read on, and write even just a brief review to let me know what you think. Thanks!

*This work is dedicated to my husband, my number one fan, for his loving encouragement... and to fourchickies, a wonderful writer, whose works have inspired me to try my hand at writing once again.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Arrow series, its story, and its characters... just the idea of using the metaphor of the Foundry to explore what could have happened differently from what aired as the Season 3 premiere.

I walked towards the foundry with a slow yet steady gait. It was still dark, even if in just a couple of hours the pitch-black sky would soon fade into a pinkish white glow at the crack of dawn. "Verdant club guests and staff would all be gone by now," I thought. I knew that the foundry was the place where I could be alone for now and think… deeply.

I had just come from the hospital. Just last night Lyla had delivered her and Diggle's baby girl. I went there as soon as I heard they were ready to see visitors. I wanted to congratulate them at the arrival of their precious bundle of joy. I wanted to congratulate my friend, who was more to me like the older brother I never had. I remembered giving him the arrowhead necklace a couple of days ago, telling him that I had made it myself for their baby as a gift. That day I had congratulated Diggle in advance, not just because of the baby, but because he had found happiness with Lyla.

"Happiness," I had thought then, "Well, that's something I wish I had but could never seem to grasp." It was as if Diggle had read my mind, because he didn't hesitate for a moment before hinting – no – prompting me to consider that I could have it, too, if only I were willing to try… with Felicity.

Felicity. A smile had instantly broken out on my face when Diggle spoke her name. In fact, I think a smile has always broken out on my often serious face every time I heard her name, said it, or thought about it. Except, maybe, when we argue about something and end up yelling at each other, trying to prove each other wrong.

I hadn't denied that Felicity and I were a possibility, but I told Diggle that it wasn't the right time yet. I wasn't sure how I really felt about her.

"You love her, man. You even told her yourself," he had pointed out, referring to the beach at Lian Yu when he left us alone to talk. In response, I reasoned that I had only said that to fool Slade and bring him down, and Felicity understood that, or so I thought. (On the beach that day, she had brought up the idea that maybe she and I… that we were unthinkable, and I sensed traces of disappointment in her voice and on her face, which she had tried very hard to disguise with a faint smile. "She wears a mask just like me," I remembered thinking. I hadn't said anything back to her about us being unthinkable. I was not ready.)

Diggle's immediate reply to my lame excuse was candid and bold. He said, "Yes. Except now the only person you're fooling is yourself." At that moment, I knew my friend was speaking the truth that I have been evading for quite a while now. As Diggle turned and walked away, I pondered his words.

Right from the start, I knew that this blonde young woman was more than just an IT specialist. She was special. "To say that she's smart is an understatement," I reminded myself. She's beautiful inside and out. Her smile and her laughter always make my day. While other people, and even she herself, are annoyed or embarrassed by her signature quirks and by the babbling she does when she's excited or nervous, I find them quite amusing. Sometimes even the ranting and bickering she would carry on with me was adorable, more than I would care to admit. I could never really get mad at her. And despite my own faults and pathetic failures, she could never really get mad at me. We could communicate in sentence fragments, with just the tone of our voices, or with simple glances. We truly are friends.

She's become more than just a friend. I trusted her from the very beginning… with my life. I didn't understand why, but she was the first person that came to my mind when I got shot and desperately needed help. Now I understand better. I trusted her because she trusted me first. It was a risk we both took, and as hand-in-hand we took the plunge into the uncertainties of crime-fighting, we knew we would survive the fall. With my fighting skills and weapons, I saved the people of Starling City at their times of need (her included). With her computer skills and brilliant strategies, she fought evil and injustice by my side. I've always had her back, and she's always had mine. She believed in me and told me so, even when I hadn't the slightest clue of how to defeat formidable fiends like Merlyn and Slade… even when I had stopped believing in myself.

I breathed a sigh and whispered, "We've really become partners." I remembered telling her that once with my steady hand on her tender shoulder, and I was glad I did.

Since the Siege, I had already come to realize that Felicity and I had become more than just friends and partners. Whenever she was late for work (whether in her day job or her evenings with the Arrow) or called in sick (which rarely happened), I found myself either missing her terribly or worrying sick for her safety. My fondness of her had turned into something else. Something more. Whenever we argued over an issue or debated over differing mission strategies, I had come to consider her as an equal, not as someone I could just give orders to and expect obedience. She has become, to me, a person of infinite worth and value that not only deserved my admiration and respect, but also needed my constant attention, tender care, and protection. Felicity has become a part of my life, a part of me. This realization must have scared me more than chasing after villains and dodging bullets or arrows did, so much so that I had managed to push it back to the farthest corner of my mind, to bury it deep down in the secret niche of my heart. But after that short talk with Diggle two days ago, I was convinced it was time to give it a chance.

I reached the foundry and went inside. It was just as dark as it was outside. And it was quiet… so quiet I could hear the sound of my own breathing. I carried on the conversation with my self inside my head as I headed for the secret lair in the basement.

"I tried," I thought to myself. "We did go out on a date. And everything was going smoothly until the explosion that nearly killed her. If she had died, I wouldn't know what I would do. How could I have lost focus?! Is a relationship with her worth sacrificing her life for?" The vision of a future with Felicity started to become blurry since that blast. And last night at the hospital, the vision became even hazier.

Felicity was already in the maternity ward when I arrived. Seeing her cradling Diggle's tiny child in her arms took my breath away. "She would make a wonderful wife and mother someday," I said to myself. As I stared at her, I secretly dreamed of what it would be like for her to mother our child…our children. The dream momentarily filled me with a sense of pride. But it was only a fleeting feeling, because soon, the very sight of her holding the little one filled me with deep sadness. I was almost certain that the dream would never be. Should never be. The fear of losing her and of jeopardizing the welfare of the city threatened to snuff out the fading glimmer of hope that I could spend the rest of my life with this remarkable woman.

After giving Diggle a tight hug, I had excused myself and left without saying goodbye to Felicity, whose attention was still drawn to the child and her mother.

I stood in front of the entrance to the underground lair and keyed in the code. As soon as the digitally operated door opened, I noticed the total darkness that pervaded the hidden basement. I couldn't even see the bottom of the metal stairway in front of me. The air was cold and stuffy. I had come down this way countless times before, yet I hadn't noticed how gloomy and lonely this place really was. I took careful steps down the stairs and pulled down the lever that turned the power on.

Instantly, the gloominess and loneliness dissipated. The darkness was dispelled by bright white lights hanging from the ceiling. Tiny lights from flickering reds, greens, and blues from several computer screens reflected all around. The gloominess was replaced by the soft humming of air conditioning units and computer technology. "I've never really paid much attention to this. Felicity really did a wonderful job renovating this place a year ago."

Felicity. She was responsible for spicing up the Foundry. What used to be a lonely, dreary place became the lively home of the Arrow's small team of four. When it was just Diggle and me, the Foundry was nothing but the dismal hideout of a hardened, broken man out to fulfill a vendetta at his father's request. That woman's touch made the world of difference in the Foundry. She exuded happiness with her laughter, with the way she spoke, with her bantering, with her mere presence.

I suddenly remembered Sara. She had said to me before she left to rejoin the League that I needed someone who could harness the light that's still inside of me. I had understood then that she was referring to Felicity. I was just too terrified to even begin to face the reality: that I had been darkness and Felicity has been my light. In my miserable coldness, she has provided warmth. In my loneliness, she has been a welcome companion. In my triumphs, she cheers, and in my failures, she is a steady shoulder to lean on. Felicity's light doesn't just flicker like the ones on her computer screens. Her light shines brighter than the Foundry's lights, radiating through the windows of my soul.

I went to Felicity's work station and sat on her comfortable swiveling chair. "What would this place be without her?" I asked myself. I didn't even want to think about the answer.

Looking around, I noticed another thing about the Foundry. Aside from the training mats and the cot in the farthest corner, almost everything was made of either metal or glass. "Interesting…" I muttered, "…there's more to this place than meets the eye." If I hadn't known better, I felt as if the Foundry itself was telling me something. Maybe I ought to listen.

A foundry is a workshop or factory for casting metals. It's where metals are cast into shapes by melting them into liquid, pouring the liquid metal into a mold, and then removing the molding material after the metal solidifies and cools.

Metals are hard materials… much like me. The couple of years I spent on Lian Yu – and the three years after that – had been my furnace. Five years of intense suffering, regret, guilt, shame, and fear had melted the former Oliver Queen and had forged him into a stalwart warrior who was willing to take lives when necessary. Cruelty and loss had been emblazoned in my memory, morphing into horrible nightmares that kept me captive almost every night. I had convinced myself that I was "damaged," and that I was a lost cause. So, I had set out on a daring, dangerous crusade believing that I had nothing to lose because my life was worth nothing. Even when the few people who cared tried to reach out to me after I returned, I couldn't let them in. I wouldn't. Sincere attempts to share my heavy burdens made me cringe. I shied away from any semblance of concern or compassion afforded to me. My painful past had hardened me, beyond repair, or so I thought.

But it's a good thing that metals can adapt to temperature. Given the environment, it can be freezing cold or searing hot. Metals, though hard, are also malleable. With just the right amount of heat or pressure, one can make a dent on it. Under intense heat, a piece of worthless, ugly metal can soften, become pliant and flexible. It can even be melted back to liquid form and then recast or remolded into something new, something better.

As I contemplated on metals in a foundry, I recalled what I had said to Felicity at the restaurant on our date the other night. "The entire time that I was gone I could never completely trust someone. And when that goes on for so long, you stop seeing people for people. You see threats or targets. And when I decided to come home, I just didn't know how to turn that part of me off. But then I walked into your office. You were the first person I could see as a person. There was just something different about you."

And there is. She is just like… glass. You could see right through her. No walls, no pretenses. Felicity was Felicity. She wasn't afraid of expressing herself, as proven time and again by her witty remarks and hilarious ramblings. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, even if she knew I would disapprove or might blow my temper. She wasn't afraid to laugh, to cry, to burst out in anger or frustration. She wasn't afraid to care… even for someone like me. Unlike all the other girls that have come and gone in my life, Felicity's heart is pure, honest, strong, and brave. But it is also delicate and fragile, and needs to be handled with care. One wrong move could shatter her tender heart to pieces beyond mending. "If the next step I took in our relationship falters," I mused, "I might break both our hearts beyond repair." I shuddered at the prospect.

But then a thought crossed my mind. "Metal and glass… If it works for her, I'll go with it. The combination has done wonders to this amazing place."

Someone once told me – I think it was also Sara – that love is the most powerful force in this world. If indeed I have somehow become a better person, then someone must have loved me enough to make a dent in my hardened heart. Someone must have loved me so much to help reshape me into a better man. "That someone is Felicity," I declared, "and oh, how I love her for it!"

"I love her!" Those three words echoed in the canyons of my mind. I closed my eyes, rested my forehead on the palms of my hands, and bowed down, my elbows firmly planted on top of her computer desk. I told myself, "She doesn't even have to say it back. Everything she has done from the moment I met her, chewing on that red pen in her IT office, up to this very day… It's enough to convince me that she, too, loves me."

I allowed my heart and my mind to revel in those thoughts and feelings for a while, my body in absolute stillness.

"So what do I do now?" I asked myself a bit later. "Do I move forward and risk putting her life on the line by being with me? Or do I step back to keep her from getting hurt, sacrificing what we now have and all that we could ever have?" The questions lingered in my mind for what seemed like hours.

Until I saw the fern. Felicity had said that ferns thrived in low lights. She had placed it on one of the computer tables in the middle of the spacious basement to liven up the pale, colorless place. It was so… green. It was the only thing growing in the Foundry. It was alive. Without it, everything else – the machines, the arrows and the weapons and the hero's suit in the glass casings, the metal tables and the chairs – all of it was drab and lifeless. I looked around me again. Metals and glass were nice and useful, but right now, the life of the Foundry was that one small plant.

The answers to my questions were right before my eyes. "How could I have not seen this before?" I blurted out. The Foundry had just shown me, ever so clearly, what I needed to do.

Felicity and I were meant to be. A perfect fit. She completes me, and I, her. The life that we can share together could blossom into something beautiful, but only if I put my fears behind me, reach for this gracious gift of hope, and make it mine. Make it ours. I've been dead wrong to think that because of the life I lead, I could never be with someone that I truly cared about. The reverse is true, and I see it now. Because of the life that I lead, the only way to keep on living, to keep on breathing, to survive even the next split-second, is to be with the one woman that I sincerely cared about.

My train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the security locks beeping at the entrance to the Foundry. That was followed by the light tapping of heels coming down the metal stairway. "She couldn't have come at a better time," I thought to myself, grinning.

"Hey! I thought I'd find you here," Felicity said with a bright smile on her face as she walked towards me. She placed her purse and her coat on the table as she passed it. "Why did you leave so soon, and without even telling me? I was lulling the baby to sleep, and when I turned around, you weren't there anymore. I asked John where you went, but he said he didn't know where you were going. I tried calling your phone, but it seems you had turned it off so I couldn't even trace-"

"You talk too much," I cut her off gently, placing the back of my curled fingers under her chin and a thumb across her lips. Felicity placed a hand on my arm and squeezed as she blinked and looked up. I held her gaze, my azure eyes connecting with hers.

"I left while you were holding the baby in your arms because it was a beautiful sight to see… but too much for me to take in that I had to step out and clear my head," I explained as my hand slid down from her chin to her shoulder to her elbow.

"Oh…" she said with a worried tone. She flinched and let go of my arm. "I know what you're thinking, Oliver," she continued, her words racing towards a finish line. "Don't you dare make this out to be about you not being able to be with someone you truly cared about because of the kind of life you chose to have and because you just want to protect me. It's my life, and it's my choice, so-"

"No… it's going to be our life, so it has to be our choice," I cut her off again, as gently yet firmly as I possibly could. I wasn't surprised at the puzzled look that began to form on her face.

"Huh? Oliver, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm tired of being afraid, and I'm done being alone. I want to be with you… for the rest of my life… if you'll have me," I declared.

"Whoa! That's a lot to take in. The rest of your life? And we've only had a first date!" she responded in shock. A couple of seconds later, her eyebrows creased and her eyes narrowed. "You're kidding, right?"

I was a bit hurt that she would think I was just teasing her about something like this. I bowed my head low and stared at the floor. When she saw my response and did not get any answer to her question, the lights in her head turned on.

"Oh my… Oliver, you're serious, aren't you?" she asked softly. I nodded my head in affirmation.

She remarked, "And there I thought Oliver Queen and commitment didn't mix."

I lifted my head once again to look straight into her eyes, expecting to see the sparkle that often made my heart flutter. But no, her beautiful blues were welling up with tears. Before I could speak to comfort her somehow, she beat me to it.

"I just… I just thought this day would never come. I've waited so long. I've almost given up, accepting that perhaps there would be nothing more between us than friendship. When you finally asked me out, I thought that maybe we had a chance. That this… that we were not unthinkable after all. But after the explosion at the restaurant… and the way you left when you saw John and Lyla and the baby… I've been preparing for the worst," she said in between sobs.

I wrapped one arm around her waist and the other at the back of her neck and pulled her in to a loving embrace. "I'm sorry it took me this long. I've been so blind," I whispered near her ear. I felt her arms lock around my waist. Tight. I was starting to caress her silky blonde tresses when she slowly pulled back, keeping her arms around me, and looked up with searching eyes.

"Why me?" she asked.

"Because I love you. You are the light in my darkness. You have become more than just a true friend and a trusted partner. You're my girl, remember? You have made my life so much more worth living. I can't imagine a future without the woman that I love." Those were perhaps the most liberating words I had ever spoken to a woman. And she deserved those words – every single one – and every ounce of unspoken sincerity and affection that went with them.

Felicity smiled. "Even if it's a future filled with danger and challenges and tough choices?"

"If they're spent every moment with you? Yes. One hundred percent," I answered.

"I love you, Oliver Queen," she said to me in the sweetest, most heartfelt way.

The surge of emotions in my heart was indescribable, irrepressible. Joy, sheer delight, rapture, desire, passion. I cupped her tear-stained cheeks with trembling hands and leaned forward until her lips touched mine. Perfect bliss!

Time stood still, bearing witness to the matchless beauty of a true love's kiss.

Before we got insanely lost in the heat of the moment, I slowly pulled back. I then rubbed circles on her upper arms so that she wouldn't feel like I regretted what had just happened.

Felicity was not a fling. She wasn't Laurel, Sara, or Shado, and certainly not Helena or Mckenna. She was the one, and she deserved all the care and respect I can give. I was a changed man, too, thanks to her, and my intentions for her were pure. Honorable. Resolute. In that brief moment, I pictured her wearing white, walking down the aisle with the most angelic countenance, so that together we could promise each other forever. I imagined her sleeping soundly in her pajama shorts and tank tops, under the covers, in our king-sized bed, in our own apartment just outside the city by the lake. But then I remembered that I had to ask her again.

"So… will you have me, Felicity Megan Smoak?" I squeezed her wrists gently as I waited for the answer.

"A million times YES! I would gladly grow old with you, Mr. Queen, even if it means brewing you coffee every morning," she answered with a chuckle as she poked a finger against my chest.

I wiped away the remaining tears on her face with my thumbs. "I'll take you home now," I told her, and she nodded in agreement as she let out a yawn.

Felicity turned to pick up her purse and coat. I followed closely behind her, guiding her up the metal steps with a hand on the small of her back. Just before we walked out the door, I turned to take one more look at the Foundry before pulling up the lever that shut the power off.

"Thank you." I nodded in gratitude.

Outside, the sky had turned pinkish white. A new day had just dawned.

THE END