Summary: AU - Oliver and Felicity meet each other in school and become best friends. But in high school, everything changes.

Notes: After a wonderful response to the first part posted in my one-shot collection, I decided to post the following parts in its own separate story. Everyone who read, reviewed and encouraged me to post this, thank you a whole bunch.

The story was originally written as a one-shot, but after writing the first part I ended up exploring what would happen if the story continued. What if Oliver ended up on the Gambit anyway, returned five years later and met Felicity again? This story deals with that.

Title comes from an amazing Foo Fighter's song.

Oliver Queen met his best friend when he was nine years old.

The opposite end of a schoolyard sandbox, with the sun in his eyes and a golden girl appearing in front of him.

"I'm looking for my marble," she said, shielding her eyes with a hand. "I was playing on the other side of the fence, and thought maybe it rolled over here…"

Oliver looked at the fence in the middle of the schoolyard. Just beneath the low edge of the wooden planks was a glint, one he'd stuck his feet into many times, but now there was nothing there but ground and air.

"I haven't seen any marbles," he told her, getting up off his knees. He brushed sand off his pants. "But I can help you look, if you'd like."

They searched around the fence, back to the sandbox, over to the swings and even the tree in the corner of the schoolyard, but no matter where they looked the marble was nowhere to be found.

After twenty minutes the bell rang out, shrill and clear. The pony-tailed girl shielded her eyes from the sun, looking anxiously at the other children running to the entrance. When he saw her unhappy expression, Oliver didn't think twice, didn't hesitate to pull out the pouch tied to the hook of his jeans. He dipped his hand into it and quickly produced a green marble.

"I know that it's not the one you're looking for, but… here." He handed her the marble. "You can have mine."

She hesitated. "You sure? You don't even know my name."

"I'm sure." He nodded, whisking blond bangs about. "And my name is Oliver."

"I'm Felicity." She hesitated a moment, then quickly leaned forward and kissed Oliver on the cheek. "Thank you, Oliver."

He smiled like young summer. He liked the way she said his name, like a happy memory.

He heard Tommy shout at him in the background—it was time to go back in—but as Felicity ran across the schoolyard in her little red dress Oliver couldn't take his eyes off her.

He watched her run, thinking he just got his first kiss from the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

Over time, they became the kind of friends you live a lifetime never forgetting.

Oliver's oldest friend would always be Tommy, who, some times, tagged along with them. But more often than not Oliver and Felicity spent time together, just the two of them, making up games from their imagination. They came up with adventures, invisible dangers and enemies to defeat, turned playgrounds into landscapes and fortresses. Felicity fought next to Oliver against their imagined enemy and together they defeated mighty fantastic foes. Armed with fantasy and heart; two children against the world.

But they came from different worlds: Oliver lived in a mansion accessible only by a long driveway; Felicity lived two blocks away from school in a dilapidated apartment complex. Felicity's entire reason for living there was so she could attend that school, while Oliver attended because his parents forced him to. Oliver had a trust fund set up before he was born; Felicity kept her grades up in hope of a scholarship.

The differences didn't end there. When she wasn't in school or with Oliver, Felicity preferred putting herself up to small tasks, putting together old computers, or fixing ones she found for free in junk piles at backyard sales. Oliver didn't have that patience. When he wasn't with Felicity, he hung out with Tommy, test driving expensive radio controlled cars; in their teens they watched cheerleading practice or helped Robert fix plane engines.

But against all odds they still found ways to be together. The reason was simple: they felt better with each other than without. In the absence of parents with busy jobs, Oliver felt like someone cared for him, and Felicity liked having someone around who reminded her she wasn't forgotten.

They grew through the years together, never far apart.

Everything changed in high school.

"Oliver, we need to talk."

In the bustling hallway, between rows of red and blue lockers, Felicity reached out and touched Oliver's arm. He paused, taking one look at her and signaled for Tommy to wait. They were juniors; she a freshman.

"We're on our way to the pep rally," Oliver told her. "Can't it wait?"

"No, it's…"

Tommy jogged over to them after winking at two passing cheerleaders. "Hey, Felicity. Is that a new smile you're wearing? Gorgeous, as always. I'm real sorry, but we have a team of cheerleaders who won't just applaud themselves. We'll miss—"

Felicity cut him off. "Oliver, I'm moving to Las Vegas."

Oliver blinked slowly. A disbelieving smile stretched his lips apart. "What…?"

"It's my mom," Felicity stammered. "The guy she's been seeing wants us to move to Las Vegas. He wants us to have a fresh start somewhere else, and…"

Oliver dismissed Tommy with a quick nod. "You go ahead. I'll catch up later."

Tommy slapped Oliver on the shoulder but his eyes were on Felicity. "I'm real sorry to hear about it, Felicity. We'll talk later."

She nodded, looking at the floor as Tommy jogged away. She felt absolutely sick. Her arms dug into her sides; the only thing keeping her up. Oliver wrapped his arm around her shoulders and lead them away from the tumult of the hallway, filled with teenagers making their way to the sports hall.

He found them an empty spot in the stairs. Felicity leaned against the wall, still holding her arms tight around her body.

"When did she tell you?" Oliver asked, sitting on the third step.

"This morning," Felicity answered in a hollow voice Oliver had never heard from her before. "She claims it's the best thing for us as a family. But that's just it—she doesn't understand. Oliver, my dad walked out on us. I barely know what it's like having a family. And now this guy comes in and wants to change everything."

Oliver's hands balled into fists between his knees. "Have you told your mom you don't want to move? It's spring. Can't she wait until summer?"

"I know," she said sadly, "I know. I told her the same thing. But when she gets an idea, you can't convince her of anything else. She stops listening." Felicity let both hands drop. "Oliver, she doesn't get it. I have my life here. Everything I like, everything I don't want to leave… is right here."

Oliver felt sick to his stomach. He desperately wished there was something he could do, anything to make the situation better, change things, have her stay.

"Maybe I can talk to my mom," he offered. "Maybe she can talk to yours, convince her not to go…"

"Oliver, our moms have never talked."

"I just..." He sighed. "I'm trying to come up with something so you don't have to leave."

"She's made her mind up. We're going."

A thick silence wrapped around them. Oliver glanced out the window at the back of the stairs, where spring sunshine shone in thick rays on the ferns outside. It bothered him how everything out there went on as before, when inside the school, he felt his whole world changing.

"When do you move?" he asked carefully. Felicity left the wall and sat down next to him on the steps.

"Next Saturday."

Oliver felt her answer like a punch to the gut.

They sat there together, legs bent, elbows on knees. The whole school was gathered for the pep rally, but as far as either of them were concerned, it might as well have taken place in another world. Everything but them felt far and distant.

Felicity slid, lying forward in her own lap and Oliver mimicked her, nudging his arm against hers. His eyes at her were soft, hers doleful.

"There's phone calls," he suggested. "Emails…"

"Oliver, it took you a week to figure out your Nokia 3310."

"Not everyone's a tech whiz."

He tried smiling, but seeing her face the charade fell. A warm spot in his chest grew heavy, a sinking heart skewed by reality.

"It will be alright, Felicity. I don't know how, but... somehow. It'll be alright." He put his arm around her shoulders.

She turned to him, cheek on arm. "We'll find a way."

When Oliver told his mother about the situation after supper, she was less forthcoming than he'd hoped. She seemed understanding of Felicity's mother, which wasn't what Oliver hoped for, at all.

"People move, Oliver," Moira said reasonably, leaving the dining room. "It happens all the time."

He hurried, following her through the long hallway. "We've never moved."

"And I hope we never have to, but… some times, life changes. Life takes you elsewhere and you have to follow where it leads. Sounds to me like that's what Felicity's mother is doing."

Moira stopped near the stairs when she noticed Oliver slow after. She looked at her son standing there, appearing so small against the tall walls, the sight clawing at something deep inside her. She never wanted to see her children in pain, ever. She would do anything to protect them.

"Oh, honey… you really like this girl, don't you?" She lead Oliver over to the stairs.

"She's my best friend," Oliver said sadly, sitting down next to his mother on the steps.

Moira paused. "I thought Tommy was your best friend."

"No, he's my oldest friend. Felicity… she's something else."

"She certainly sounds like it..." Moira rubbed her hand across her son's back. "Oliver, dear. It will be alright. It's going to hurt now, for a little while. But with time, it's going to hurt less and less. Life goes on. You'll see."

Oliver pressed his lips together and tried pushing the tight feeling in his chest deeper down inside, to a place he could no longer feel it. But it was like pressing down reality; sooner or later, it always catches up with you.

He didn't doubt his mother believed her own words, but he had a harder time believing them. That life went on... it didn't seem right.

It was difficult understanding how when the best part of his life was ending.

Oliver was seventeen when he watched his best friend leave for another city, thinking he might never see her again.

He arrived outside her apartment building the same day she left. Ran to the back of the building, threw rocks at her window; she told her mother she was getting some fresh air and met him outside.

He was in jeans and a pale blue t-shirt, looking like a summer's son; she in a pale pink dress that moved along her body like wind.

"Hey you," she said bittersweetly.

"Hey yourself," he returned. Then, quietly, "Hey. Let's head to the back."

The swings behind the building were hardly ever used; the rickety iron squeaked when they sat down on them. The mild spring weather wafted of early blossom. It was only the two of them around, two teenagers learning about the limits of forever, trying to say goodbye to each other.

"I got you something." Oliver brought out an old but familiar pouch.

Felicity's face warmed, lips curling up. "Is that…"

Oliver's smile started low but gradually turned into a grin as he produced a green marble from the pouch. Carefully, he placed it in Felicity's hand. She looked at him and smiled like a dream.

"Thought it was fitting," he said, hoping it didn't come out sheepish. "Considering it's how we met, and…"

"This isn't goodbye," Felicity blurted. Her eyes at him were very white. "I mean, I know it is. I know we're both here right now because I'm moving to another city and we might never see each other again… but this isn't final. We're both still young and…" Her words faded. "Sorry. Talking too much always catches up with me."

"Hey."

He waited until she looked at him, then held onto her gaze like a flock of stars.

"Don't ever say you're sorry for the way you talk. Okay? It's what makes you you. And who you are, is... you're amazing." His eyes shivered and his words trembled out of him. "I'm so glad I met you, Felicity. I don't know what my life would be like without you. It sure as hell wouldn't be the same—and I wouldn't be, either."

Felicity closed her hand tightly around the green marble, letting his words sink into her like deep waves.

One hand on the swing, she leaned over and gently put her lips on Oliver's.

It was a soft kiss; asking, searching, finding. Their lips parted and two pair of eyes, different shades of blue, searched each other.

Neither could stop smiling.

"That's my first kiss," she admitted shyly, cheeks the color of strawberries.

Oliver proudly smiled. "I'm happy to be your first kiss, Felicity Smoak."

That first day in the sandbox, they never found Felicity's green marble. But they found something much greater than that.

A friendship that would last a lifetime.