This ship popped out of nowhere and now my brain won't let it go. The title could be far more creative, but my brain was less worried about that than the accompanying plot bunny. I haven't hammered a fic out as quickly as I did this one in a very long time. I, sadly, have no legal rights to Arrow or the characters. Blah blah fanfiction is free blah blah fanfiction is for fun blah blah people should get over it blah. Incoming lawsuits will be laughed out of court.

Part One: An Eye for An Eye

"You know, I told Oliver a long time ago that murder isn't the only way to handle things."

She shouldn't be in his office. He shouldn't be in his office. He'd left the Russian in his desk chair with a very telling bolt in his head. Yet, there he is, sitting in that same desk chair with his back to the door. Turning the chair around with one foot finds him face to face with Oliver Queen's bespectacled "assistant."

"I mean, murder is great and all if you're okay with having that much blood on your hands, which you obviously are, and I definitely felt the urge the make a few customers stop breathing back in my call center days, but when it comes down to accomplishing a goal there are totally better ways to go about it than murder." Felicity Smoak sauntered forward as she rambled, coming to a halt only once she had perched herself atop the desk across from him. Her flowing skirt and pink cardigan were entirely too sweet, too innocent for the thoughts that ravaged his mind with the sway of her hips. "I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

No, his mind insisted. "What are you doing here?" his mouth demanded instead. His voice was gruff, but not nearly so dangerous as he'd intended it to sound.

The blonde heaved a heavy, dramatic sigh, a tendril of hair escaping from her ponytail as she examined her pastel yellow fingernails. "What is it with you tortured soul island dwelling males that means you have to have the simplest things explained to you?" She spun to face him on the desktop-strangely devoid of lamps and other trinkets she could have knocked to the floor-tucking entirely too tempting legs beneath her skirt as she moved. "Clearly, I'm here because no one has had the 'murder isn't always a necessity' talk with you. Bad people do bad things. People are human and make mistakes. If all you keep doing is killing them for it, the only thing you'll end up being is alone." Slade's eyebrows furrowed. Either she wasn't making sense or he was still not following. However, before he could comment she babbled on. "I mean, I know people say that 'revenge is a dish best served cold' and all of that, but five years later is kind of pushing it into 'revenge is a dish being dragged from the back of the freezer' territory. You know what I think?" She paused, almost like she was actually going to wait for him to put in a comment of his own, but the radiant smile that crossed her face stunned him to silence. "I think that revenge goes best when it can be picked up whenever. Like all the dishes at one of those great buffet restaurants where you can get as many plates and go back as many times as you want."

There was a sharp tug on his hair and before he realized what she'd done his own eyepatch was swinging from her fingers in front of his face. "It's only half about Shado, right?" she said, almost mockingly. "The rest is this. An eye for an eye." Anger welled up inside of him, his fists tightening on the edge of the desk, but she didn't pause long enough for his protest. "Oliver acted on instinct to save a woman he felt he'd already condemned to death out of his own selfishness. Another woman died as a result, and because he didn't tell you the truth you think he has to die for it. Never mind that grief or guilt or both was probably why he didn't tell you in the first place." She snorted, tossing the eyepatch over his shoulder. "Poor Slade. He lost a loved one, got another scar added to the many he's collected, and got his feelings hurt by his little brother."

His heart felt as though it was going to hammer out of his chest. His breath was short and shallow. Blurring shapes creeped along the edges of his vision until all he could see was her face. The eyes behind her thick glasses never left his own. A pair of soft pink lips refused to stop spitting out the very thoughts that plagued him in his weakest moments.

"I mean, I get how seriously it must have hurt. I've been on the receiving end of Oliver's 'my angst is too much for you so I have to bottle it up inside and never cop to it until you catch me' actions myself. Which is one of the reasons why I'm pretty much in a constant state of annoyance with him." Her intense gaze finally broke from his, her head tilting to the side. "Well, that and his inability to keep the focus on only one woman. Do you have any idea how many loves of his life Oliver has had since he first came back from the island?" Eyes finding his again, she smacked herself in the forehead. "Of course you do. The stalking goes with that whole vengeance thing. I got off track.

Suddenly Slade realized that she was much closer. She'd slid across the entire surface of his desk, her feet now swinging on either side of his knees. He swallowed a lump in his throat as the brush of her skirt against his slacks sent a shiver down his spine. Finally finding his voice again, he pushed back on his chair and stood, determined to ignore that this brought him to stand between her thighs. "Why are you here, Miss Smoak?" he growled, staring down at her.

"Well, I'm your eye." Felicity shook her head, looking as though she might be a hair's breadth from smacking herself again. "Not, you know, in the literal sense seeing as how you've only got one of those and I definitely wasn't born from the one Oliver shot since I'm way older than five and that is not how this was supposed to go." With another shake of her head she took a deep breath, locked her hands around the lapels of his jacket, gathered her feet beneath her once more, and rose on her knees until she was level with his face. Her hands slid over his shoulders, not holding him, but dangling over his back as though they might at any moment. "When someone you love dies, the best thing you can do is live. Live for them and all the things they'll never do. Live for you and all the things you could have done with them. The best revenge is even to leave a better, happier life than the person you're looking to get back at."

All at onec her arms attached themselves to his back, the full length of her tiny torso pressed against his broad chest. Of their own volition his hands went to her back, one sliding across her waist while the other traveled between her shoulder blades. Her hair smelled of apples. His eye slid closed and Slade Wilson, for the first time since Shado's death, allowed himself to feel like someone could care. When Felicity spoke again, her voice brushed across his earlobe. "You lost an eye. I'm the eye you could get in return. There's always another way." A quiet snort escaped from her mouth, warm air rushing over his throat. "You know, if you stop being an ass and trying to kill my friends. You're good at it, but I bet I could find a better use of your time."

Slade shot up in bed, coming awake all at one. His eye darted wildly around the dim room he rented in Starling City. He was alone. Sweat crawled along his body despite the chill in the air. A dream. Nothing more. And yet... he sniffed the air. He stood and prowled the room. No one had come in or gone out. He was sure of it.

The scent of apples still lingered.

Felicity's babbling is really fun to write. That is all.