A/N: Thank you! The response to the first chapter has been amazing! I'm so glad everyone is excited, I am too! And thanks for the support and faith that I'll do this one justice. It's tricky, for sure. No pressure!

Thanks again to my ladies! Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Six weeks after their night under the influence, he began seeing changes in Felicity's behavior. He'd looked up from his desk more than once to see her half asleep in her chair, hand propping up her chin or leaning back, head tilted to the side. He'd meant to ask her if she wanted some time off but a new threat entered the city and they spent the next week working almost around the clock. When she fell asleep in the car after work, head coming to rest on his shoulder, he didn't think twice about it.

The flashes he'd been getting seemed to be subsiding although he'd had one very vivid dream he'd woken up from that had left him cursing his alarm. He didn't know what to make of them. They felt real, like memories, not dreams, not fantasies, but he also knew if he'd done the things he'd seen in the images with Felicity he would have remembered.

Felicity was late that morning, although she'd sent him a text apologizing and telling him she was on the way. The woman who stumbled through the glass door to her desk was not the one he was used to seeing.

Oliver was out of his seat and halfway across his office before she sat her bag down.

Her blue eyes stood out starkly against her pale face and she barely glanced at him as she made her way to her chair.

"Why are you here?" he blurted out as he approached. Her movements were slow and purposeful as she pulled her phone out and sat it on the desk before stowing her bag in a drawer.

"I work here Oliver, as your highly overqualified secretary, remember?" Even though she'd long since gotten over her initial anger at her promotion, she still liked to tease him on occasion, except her voice was flat and there was no spark to her.

He pulled her chair back before she could reach for the keyboard, and didn't miss how her hand pressed hard against her mouth at the sudden motion.

Her eyes went wide and she pushed him out of the way as she made a mad dash for his private bathroom. He followed her on instinct, just managing to grab her ponytail before it swung in front of her face as she dropped to her knees at the toilet.

He winced as he listened to her dry heave and passed her several towels to wipe her face. She sat back with a shaky sigh as she blindly fumbled with the handle in an attempt to flush. He did it for her as she groaned and kept her eyes shut.

"Fabulous. This is just fabulous. I mean...I might be sitting on imported Italian marble in front of a toilet brought in from Switzerland, but you...you had to be there to hold my hair back." She was even paler now, if that was possible, and he could see the fine sheen of sweat that had broke across her skin.

"Felicity, you're obviously sick. You need to go home." He already had his phone out texting Digg to pull the car into the parking garage.

"I'm not going to argue with that," she said weakly, and tried to push herself up.

Oliver jumped forward, and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he stood. She swayed slightly, her forehead coming to rest against his lapel and he gritted his teeth as he was assaulted with another flash.

This one was stronger and longer than the others. They were in the lair, on the couch, her blonde hair spilled across the green leather as he ran his hands up her waist and covered her breasts. Her fingers trailed over his chest, skipping over and around his scars, like she was committing them to memory. His hips pushed forward and she cried his name.


He startled and looked down to see Felicity standing back from him some, his hand resting along her lower back as she stared up at him.

"Sorry. Digg's going to bring the car around. He'll take you home," he said quickly, hoping she didn't question him. The image? The memory? It was too heavy in his mind for him to ignore just then.

"Okay, sorry, I never get sick. I don't know where this came from," she said with a sheepish look as she pulled away from him and went to get her things.

"It's a light day," he said as he followed her out, trying to keep his distance. He didn't need another flash that real while she was in front of him.

"I'll be in tonight, don't worry," she promised as she slipped her bag over her shoulder, some of the color returning to her cheeks.

"No. Not if you're not up to it," he objected, but she just gave him the look that said she'd do what she wanted and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

His phone chimed and he glanced to see that Digg was ready. "Come on, I'll walk you down."

"You don't have to," she protested, and then it was his turn to give her a look of his own.

With a sigh, she walked out the door he held open. She reminded him of the meetings he had scheduled and who he was supposed to have lunch with as they rode down in the elevator. But halfway there she stopped talking in the middle of a sentence.

Oliver turned sharply to see her eyes shut, leaning back against the railing as she tried to take deep breaths in through her nose.

"We're almost there, and there's a restroom right around the corner…" he began, stopping abruptly as her hand clamped down on his suit jacket. She pitched forward and for a moment he thought she was going to be sick on his shoes.

He took hold of her shoulders and let her lean on him as she tried to keep her angry stomach under control. When the car slowed to a stop he reached out a quick hand to keep the door closed.

"You good?" he said quietly and waited until she stood up straight and pushed loose hair out of her face.

"Yeah, sorry," she mumbled, eyes only half open.

He slid an arm around her waist and opened the door, ignoring the looks he knew they were receiving as he led her to the parking garage.

"Steps or the elevator again?" he asked when they were in the blessedly empty hallway.

"Steps," she said with a gulp, gripping his hand where it rested on her hip as they made their way slowly down the stairwell.

When they reached the bottom she didn't seem so shaky. Digg looked over her with concern but she waved him away. "I'm fine. Just a stomach bug."

Digg's eyes locked on his as he made his way around to the driver's side. Oliver waited until he'd opened the door and helped Felicity inside before he had a silent conversation with his partner.

Take her home, and let me know how she is.

Digg climbed in and Oliver leaned into the interior to speak to her. She looked half asleep already and he couldn't stop himself when he reached in and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Don't come back until you're well. And let me know if you need anything," he ordered.

He could tell she wanted to roll her eyes at him but didn't want to risk it.

"Okay," she said in a whisper that worried him more than anything. He hesitated, wondering if he should go with her. Before he could say anything both their phones chimed with a calendar reminder.

"Meeting. In the conference room in five minutes. Better hurry," she said.

"Call me," he said, in a voice that brooked no argument.

She nodded once and he reluctantly shut the door, banging the roof twice as Digg drove away.

His day dragged on, his eyes constantly going to his phone to see if Digg had contacted him again after dropping her off. When he was at his desk he found himself looking through the glass wall at her empty chair. At four he gave up and left for the day.

He headed straight to the lair, hoping to spend time training to get his mind off of her. She filled his thoughts almost constantly now and he didn't want to ask himself why that was.

When he arrived he expected the lights to be off, but they weren't.

"Felicity," he called out as he hurried down the stairs, fully prepared to berate her for coming in if she was still sick.

He stopped short, dropping his suit jacket over the back of her desk chair as he looked around and didn't see her anywhere.

Her bag was on the floor and her phone lay dark by the center keyboard so he felt fairly certain that she was there.

He passed by the equipment tables and the med bay until he finally spotted her.

The image he was met with drew him up short, his breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. He felt rocked as he flashed between seeing her right then, asleep, hair loose as it spread behind her and the things he'd been seeing in his head.

She was curled on her side, facing the back of the couch. Her deep, even breaths let him know she was sleeping soundly. She looked better, her face wasn't as wan as it had been earlier. He stood watching her for a long while until he eventually backed up and went to sit in her chair.

Something was happening. Something he couldn't explain, an unknown that felt weighty and threatened to undo everything they'd worked for. He just couldn't see it yet.

When Digg arrived Oliver almost didn't hear the alarm sound on the screens behind him. He pulled himself from his thoughts and managed to look with it when Digg appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey man, I was about to head over to pick you up. Felicity asked me to run out and grab her some things," he explained as he held up the bag in his hands.

"She's better?" Oliver asked.

Digg shrugged as he crossed to the mini-fridge. "Seems that way. Said she was going to come over here and get started instead of heading back to the office." He placed a carton of milk inside and shut the door before he took a large red box out and sat it on top.

Oliver's eyes drew together as he looked at what appeared to be children's cereal.

Digg snorted. "Yeah, I don't know. It's what the lady wanted. Said she felt better and needed her comfort food."

In unspoken agreement they both busied themselves with tasks that didn't require metal clanging or grunts of pain in order to let Felicity sleep as long as possible.

He almost didn't hear her come up behind him, her bare feet silent on the cold concrete floor.

"What have I said about you not touching my computers?" Her voice was rough with sleep, as he turned to see her rubbing tired eyes and attempting to put her hair in order as she approached.

"Sorry, but you were napping in my training space. Seemed only fair." He smiled up at her, glad to see her looking better.

Her hand rested against the high back and just as he was expecting her to tell him to move she gasped in pain, palm pressed to her temple.

He was up in a flash, taking her by the waist and guiding her into the chair as he knelt in front of her.

"Felicity, what's wrong?" he asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice.

She didn't answer for a long moment and just as he was about to yell for Digg she sat back and let her hand drop. Her eyes were still shut, but the shaky breath she took let him know she was trying to pull herself together.

The flush that crept up her cheeks didn't make any sense, and when she opened her eyes she avoided looking at him, scooting the chair forward so she was no longer facing him. "I'm fine, just got up too fast," she said unconvincingly, her attention focused intently on the screens in front of her.

He started to protest but she cut a glare his direction. "I'm fine."

With a sigh he got up and left her to her work as he found Digg so they could begin training.

An hour later her found her with an empty bowl next to her, eating straight from the box of sugary cereal. He merely lifted an eyebrow at her and she pointed one blue painted nail his direction.

"Don't judge me, Oliver Queen," she said heatedly and he held his hands up in mock surrender. "It's the only thing that sounded good, and I don't feel like running to the bathroom every twenty minutes, so I'm going to consider this progress and not question it."

He leaned in under the guise of studying the box more closely. "There are rainbow shaped marshmallows," he stage whispered.

She moved the box to her other side like she thought he was going to steal them. "And they are magically delicious," she whispered back, although her whisper sounded almost sinister.

He gave her a head tilt to show her victory as he backed away. "No judging."

The next morning she was on time, but looked just as bad as she had the day before. She stopped him as he opened his mouth to send her home again. "I'm staying, I'll be fine."

His morning was full with meetings and he saw her duck into the bathroom once, but other than that she seemed to be coping. On his way back from his lunch he dropped a coffee on her desk. She looked up in surprise, a smile breaking across her face.

The next few days followed the same pattern, she looked horrible most of the morning and into the afternoon, but by the time they arrived at the lair she was always fine. She'd gone through three boxes of that cereal and he'd caught her napping in her chair or on the couch more than once, but nothing else seemed amiss.

Digg was chuckling over his phone when Oliver exited his house the following morning and he looked at the other man expectantly. "I'm under orders to stop buying her the cereal, no matter how much she begs. Apparently she was having trouble finding something that fit this morning."

Oliver got into the back seat and shook his head. Felicity looked the same as she always had.

She barely greeted him as he entered the office that morning. Her usually bright disposition was low, and she wore a simple pencil skirt and blouse he hadn't seen in months.

When she came up to him and slapped a stack of cards on his desk for him to sign he looked up in surprise.

"Everything okay?" he asked slowly.

"Great. It's great. Can you just sign these so I can get them in the mail?" Her impatience was evident.

"Sure, what is it I'm signing exactly?" he asked, pen already out as he opened the first one.

"A condolence card for one of the security guards-his mother died. A get well card for Simmons in Marketing-appendix, and one of the women in Finance had a baby yesterday." She was sliding the cards away from him as soon as he'd signed them, but as he read over the final one everything fell into place.


Numb, he finished on auto-pilot not even noticing as she walked from the room. The pen fell from his fingers as he sat dumbstruck, staring at her through the glass walls.

All the little things he'd been dismissing or ignoring for weeks on end now made perfect sense. The images he'd been seeing, of them being more intimate than he had wanted to admit. Her illness, the falling asleep, the changes in her mood, and now the clothes that wouldn't fit.

They hadn't just gone home that night after they'd been dosed by the Count. They'd had sex in the lair and then they'd gone home. And the repercussions of that was staring him right in the face.

Felicity was pregnant.