Sav•ior Arrow (Oliver and Felicity -Olicity- Fanfiction) ~3rd in the Saga~

Chapter 10

"Better now that you're going to move companies," Felicity smiled, feeling like she had the upper hand in this situation now that she owned the title 'Mrs. Queen'.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be around. You know that he'll get bored with your company sooner or later and he'll call in his favorite woman to be with instead of sleeping with you and the lack in you have in sex appeal," Isobel's grin was genuine and she licked her lips and walked past Felicity. "Have a nice rest of your night, Ms. Smoak." Isobel remembered quickly, "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized with no sincerousness, "I meant, 'Mrs. Queen'."

And, Isobel walked toward the bathroom stalls as Felicity passed the other woman in the room.

She was silently waiting, without saying anything, but it didn't look like she approved of what Isobel was saying. The woman's big blue eyes stared at Felicity, with a long side glance. The hand that was in her long brown curly locks pulled out and touched her pink painted full lower lip. Her thin-almond eyes became more narrow and she placed her hand on a ring on her left hand.

"Mrs. Queen, I suggest you get out of here," her voice was cold, and Felicity wondered if it was meant to be a threat.

"Why?" Felicity asked with wonder.

"Because I'm telling you, too," she held the door open for Felicity to walk through and she did with slow hesitation.

Felicity walked out of the bathroom and back into the dining hall, her anger gathering the best of her, her heart pumping out of her chest uncontrollable. Felicity stormed to the table and tapped her father's shoulder.

"I need to talk to you," she whispered to Dad. Oliver stood, thinking that he should come along, but Felicity demanded in a strong voice, "No, sit. Down."

Oliver wondered why his wife was acting so strange, but a look of anger and pain flashed in her eyes so maybe he should stay where he was.

"I'm coming, honey, don't worry," Felicity's father hopped up and led her out into the back of the room, out of sight from Oliver's eyes.

Back in the bathroom, things were still heated. The woman expected Isobel's reaction, anticipated it, and with the years of training, a simple business woman wouldn't hold a candle to her. The woman smashed an elbow into the side of Isobel's skull, the soft spot high on the temple. She turned around and slapped Isobel's right palm down on her face, shattering her nose.

"Why," Isobel asked, "do you think I'd ever want anything to do with you?" She whimpered holding her nose to try and stop the bleeding.

"Because I know all about your past, Ms. Rochev, and you and I share one thing in common," the woman's red tipped nail traces the blood that spilled onto the sink. "We both hate the Queen's."

Felicity remembered how angry she acted with Oliver, but who she was really angry with was Isobel.

"I know I should know this, darlin', but, uh, are you mad? ... At me?" Oliver opened the door for his wife as she hopped in, without saying a thing. "Love? Felicity?" Oliver frowned as Felicity buckled her seat belt and then crossed her arms. "This is ridiculous, Felicity, you've been quite since you came back from the powder room when the waiter spilled the drink on you." Oliver whispered in the car ride, "Why won't you tell me what you talked to your father about?"

"I asked him how to control my anger better," Felicity said through gritted teeth.

"Anger better, why? What's got you so upset?" Oliver begged to know.