A/N: Okay, I know I marked this story complete. But once in a while a fav or follow trickles in, and I'm such a fav/follow/review junkie that I thought I'd say thank you by posting another chapter. Plus, given the damaged state of Olicity at the moment in S4, I needed a little something to smile about.

Just a reminder that this 'verse is not S4 compliant - so no Lance/Donna. I smiled a few times writing it. Hope you have a few smiles reading it.

Happy Easter.

Felicity wasn't entirely surprised when Oliver brought up the subject of marriage. Six months living together in Starling City – excuse me, Star City – confirmed that they were very compatible, even away from the romantic and carefree environment of the beach bungalow. Real life hadn't dampened their enthusiasm for each other and, despite the stress of Felicity being CEO of Palmer and Oliver dressing in green fairly regularly, things were very good. There was laughter, the occasional argument, and an awful lot of sex. Sex with Oliver never seemed to become routine. Felicity often found that as she neared the end of a long day of operating meetings, her mind would involuntarily wander from sales projections and inventory levels to visions of well-defined abs, large biceps, and intense blue eyes that she knew were waiting in the apartment. By 6 pm she'd be sprinting for the elevator.

Above all, in this new life in Star City, there was love. Her old apartment had been a place to crash and store her belongings; the new place was a real home, and she cherished the time that she and Oliver were able to spend there. No matter what happened at Palmer during the day or, for that matter, with the criminal element at night, it was an oasis of calm where she could be herself with someone who appreciated her for herself. She was pretty sure Oliver felt the same.

So she wasn't surprised when he mentioned marriage as a possibility. That he went so far as to propose, on the other hand, sent her into a bit of a tailspin.

Given his history, she'd figured they'd be one of those couples who lived together for five years before tying the knot. Not that Oliver couldn't make up his mind, but his track record with women suggested elements of a commitment-phobe. Of course she knew that his playboy-Ollie days were long behind him, but that didn't mean the pendulum would swing so far as to be talking marriage in less than a year. At a minimum, she'd expected to have to talk him out of his I'm not fit to be with anyone mantra at least once or twice. And there was that whole if it ain't broke thing going on as well. Life was pretty damn good just as it was. She wasn't sure it made sense to play with fate. There was no immediate reason to get married unless you were thinking about starting a family and – oh shit, she really didn't want to go there.

After a few days of stressing over his proposal, however, she found the idea growing on her. Their lives were tied together in every possible way, so committing to love, honor and cherish each other forever really wasn't much of a stretch. By today's standards she was a little young to be getting married, but then she was also young to be the CEO of a Fortune 100 company and she was handling that just fine, thank you very much. And the certainty that she would be lying down to sleep beside Oliver every night for the rest of her life filled her with unimaginable joy. When she thought of the man she had met nearly four years ago – heroic but emotionally closed off – she couldn't help but be amazed at the man he had become. The fact that she'd played a part in that transformation was gratifying, and she knew with certainty that they were better people when they were together. Indeed, once she'd got over the initial shock, she couldn't remember why she'd had any hesitation at all about marriage. Heck, she was ready to order the damn dress and march down the aisle tomorrow.

Unfortunately, there were two proverbial flies in the ointment. And they were pretty good sized flies – horseflies as opposed to tiny fruit flies.

The first was that she was going to have to tell her mother. Oliver had met Donna Smoak, but only in passing. The team had been dealing with Felicity's ex-boyfriend turned criminal mastermind at the time, and Oliver and Mom had exchanged a few words before he and Digg had disappeared to the foundry. He had yet to experience Donna in all her big-hair, tight-dress, overly enthusiastic glory. Felicity felt confident he would be able to see past the glitzy exterior to the good heart underneath – well, fairly confident – but it was still not a reunion she was looking forward to. Given that men often consider their future mother-in-law a harbinger of what their fiancée will be like in twenty years, she was going to have to reassure him that the similarities stopped with blonde hair.

The other fly was more worrisome. As hard as she wanted to pretend that it didn't matter and told herself that she didn't believe it, there remained the fact that Oliver had married Nyssa al Ghul in a quickie ceremony in Nanda Parbat. Even if the two of them had never done the deed to seal the deal (she just couldn't get herself to think about Oliver with Nyssa in anything but a euphemism), at some point they had said "I do," or the Arabic equivalent, in front of witnesses. That Nyssa was her aunt only added a yuck factor to the whole thing. The good news was that the woman had sworn she would not contest a marriage between Oliver and Felicity. They hadn't spoken since their bottle of wine in Nanda Parbat, but Felicity was confident that Nyssa would keep to her word. The bad news was that Felicity couldn't get rid of the notion there had been a formal wedding and Oliver was treading dangerously close to bigamist territory. She wondered desperately if there were some kind of League of Assassins Undo button that could be clicked just to cover all their bases. Felicity believed in being thorough. And, let's be honest, she hadn't always had the best luck with men. Now that she'd found the right one, she wouldn't put it past Fate to intervene dramatically at the if anyone knows why these two cannot be joined moment.

In the interest of having a frank and open partnership, Felicity shared her concerns with Oliver. Predictably, he minimized both of them.

"Felicity, I've faced Mirakuru soldiers and nearly died from Ra's al Ghul's sword. How bad can your mother be?"

"Seriously, Oliver? You've never really talked to her. Take away Ra's sword and I'd say it's an even match. Once she finds out I'm engaged to the Oliver Queen…well, her enthusiasm will know no bounds. Every woman on the Las Vegas cocktail waitress network is going to be buzzing about it – because Mom's going to brag to each and every one of them. She'll want the biggest, most lavish ceremony possible."

"Would that be so bad?"

"Not for a different couple, but it's not us, Oliver. I want something small and simple, with our just our closest friends. I'm happy about becoming your wife, but the whole world doesn't need to know I'm marrying Oliver Queen. I'd like to keep it low key."

Oliver frowned. "How low key?"

"A civil ceremony, with just our closest friends in Star and Central Cities."

He studied her thoughtfully. "You're not embarrassed about marrying me, are you?"

She reached out and took his hand. "Of course not. But I also don't want to tempt Fate. Let's be honest - you and happiness have not had the best relationship. Every time you get close to being happy, something happens to screw it up. Now that you are happy – that we're happy together – I don't want to flaunt it in Fate's face. A quiet ceremony, under the radar, seems safer. Hell, we can really simplify and just elope, with John and Lyla as witnesses. I give you a ring, you give me a ring, and we go out for a good steak dinner after. Easy peasey."

An amused smile appeared on Oliver's face. "Felicity, you're being silly. Nothing is going to interrupt our happiness. I'm sure Fate will be perfectly fine with the two of us getting married. In fact, I think Fate wants us to be together. All those times I stupidly tried to go off on my own, she's always brought you back to me. I think this is meant to be." When Felicity failed to be reassured, his smile slowly faded. After a minute he exhaled heavily. "Okay," he said slowly, "this is about Nyssa, isn't it. The ceremony in Nanda Parbat? Felicity, I was forced to marry her at the point of a sword. It hardly counts and it's ancient history. Believe me, no one from the League is going to come all the way to Star City just to contest our wedding."

"And you know this because the League has always been so reasonable and rational? Forgive me if I don't find your logic comforting. And don't joke about Fate. She hasn't exactly been on our side in the past. Frankly, I think you're already pushing it by giving me your mother's ring. Moira wasn't too fond of me – if she can look down from wherever she is right now, I doubt she's happy seeing it on my finger."

He shook his head and stared at her for a long moment. His smile slowly started to re-emerge, along with a very specific look in his eyes. She knew that look very well.

"Don't stare at me like that, Oliver. Now is not the time. We're having an important discussion."

If anything, the smile grew broader. "Felicity, you know you're adorable when you're worried – and kind of hot. That little pucker you get in your forehead? Complete turn-on." He reached out to run one finger gently down her cheek and then followed it by trailing his entire hand lightly down her arm. The hand came to rest on her hip. His eyes darkened. She felt her pulse quicken and tried desperately to get them back on point.

"Oh no, no, no, no, Oliver. This is serious. You're not going to great sex your way out of this talk."

"Great sex my way out of it?"

"You know what I mean. You'll get me in bed and when we're finished I'll be too limp to argue. You do it any time we have a difference of opinion."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar."

There was a long pause. He looked a little worried. "Is it working?"

"Too damn well."

"Oh, thank God. I thought I was losing my touch."

The discussion was over.

Oliver looked at the small group of people gathered in their apartment. He was proud of the way he'd handled things. Everyone said marriage was about compromise – and that's exactly what he and Felicity had done. He'd wanted to announce their engagement to everyone they knew; she'd wanted to tell no one.

They'd settled on telling the Team. It wasn't exactly everyone, but it was more than no one and it included the people they cared about most. They invited Thea, Laurel, Captain Lance and the Diggles over for wine and appetizers, and somewhere between the bruschetta and the chicken wings they casually dropped the news that they planned to get married.

The response was pretty much what Oliver had anticipated. Thea looked delighted and John and Lyla seemed pleased. Laurel appeared surprised but not upset, and Captain Lance – well Oliver thought Lance looked relieved more than anything. It was understandable. Marriage to Felicity meant no chance that Oliver would end up with Laurel. Lance had grown to have a grudging respect for Oliver over the last year, but Oliver doubted that respect extended to wanting him to marry his daughter. There was too much history between Oliver Queen and the Lance girls – most of it not good – and Oliver was certain Lance would never quite get over younger Oliver's cavalier treatment of his daughters.

Once the news had been announced and Oliver and Felicity had been congratulated, the group fell back into casual, easy chatter, becoming even easier as the wine continued to flow. With soft music playing in the background, they reminisced over Team Arrow victories and Thea and Laurel shared stories about Oliver as a kid. Felicity listened to those stories with rapt attention, occasionally turning to grin at Oliver when the tale involved something particularly immature or foolish. The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows casting the apartment in a warm, golden glow. Oliver felt happy and at peace. This had turned out even nicer than he had expected.

He was in the kitchen with Felicity replenishing the chips and salsa when the doorbell rang. It was rare for anyone to come to the door – they weren't that well acquainted with their neighbors and it was a building in which people mostly kept to themselves. He wondered if they'd gotten a little too loud but that was hard to believe; this was hardly a raucous group. He heard Thea say, "Can I help you?" followed by a female voice saying excitedly, "Where is she? Where's my girl?" There was something vaguely familiar about the voice although he couldn't quite place it. Next to him, Felicity closed her eyes and groaned.

And suddenly, with a blur of blonde hair and blue dress, there was a third person in the kitchen and Felicity was being grabbed and hugged by a woman just about her size. Looking at the woman as she squeezed Felicity enthusiastically, Oliver's first impression was to wonder if there was room even for underwear under that dress. It left nothing to the imagination and he found himself noticing detailed physical similarities between the woman and his girlfriend, including a pretty amazing backside. He mentally slapped himself when he realized that this was Felicity's mother.

"Oh my baby," Donna Smoak squealed, "I just heard the news and had to come right away! Congratulations – I'm so happy for you! Not only do you finally have a boyfriend, but you're actually getting married!" Her hug tightened and Felicity looked desperately up at Oliver over her mother's shoulder. Please help me, the look said. Oliver shrugged weakly. Short of putting Donna in a headlock, he wasn't sure what he could do for Felicity at this moment.

"Mom?" Felicity took matters into her own hands and attempted to extricate herself - entirely without success. "Mom!" she said more firmly. "How on earth did you hear? We just told our friends an hour ago."

Donna Smoak finally stepped back, giving Felicity a chance to breathe. "Oh, honey," she said brightly, "Terry Leibowitz called me."

"Mrs. Leibowitz? My old babysitter?

"Terry hasn't looked after children for some time. She's a blackjack dealer at the Luxor now – much better pay."

Felicity's forehead puckered. Oliver refrained from telling her it was adorable. "Mom," she said a little frantically, "how would Mrs. Leibowitz know about my engagement?"

"Do you remember her daughter, Shelby… from temple? She was a few years older than you and not nearly as good a student. Well, anyway, Shelby works in Accounting at Palmer Technologies. She overheard you talking to Oliver on your phone in the ladies room. She was so excited she called her mother right away."

There was a long pause as Felicity absorbed that information. "I knew I should have checked under the stall doors," she said to Oliver a little bitterly. For a fleeting moment he wondered whether Shelby Leibowitz would still have a job on Monday but, fortunately for Shelby, Felicity wasn't a vindictive person. Well, not most of the time, anyway.

Meanwhile, Donna Smoak continued to effervesce – if that was indeed a verb. "I knew my daughter was in love with you," she said to Oliver, "but I had no idea you felt the same about her. I'm so pleased. Not only did my techie girl find herself a man, but she's got a famous, hot one. Your wedding is going to be the talk of the city. Goodness, even your engagement party is going to…" She paused, and as if someone had flicked a switch, her smile disappeared. She looked around the kitchen at the bottles of wine and the various finger-foods. She turned back towards her daughter with an expression that was somewhere between hurt and angry. "This is an engagement party, isn't it?" It was half question, half statement. When Felicity didn't reply, she went on, "This is your engagement party… and I wasn't invited."

"Mom-"

"My only daughter, my only child becomes engaged to be married and she doesn't tell her mother. Not even a phone call."

"Mom-"

"No, I understand. You're mixing with the city's elite now and you're embarrassed about your cocktail waitress mother – too embarrassed to invite her to your own engagement party."

"Mom-"

"I came here hoping to spend a couple of days to get to know your fiancé better, but I can see that's not a good idea. You're busy, I should have called first to make an appointment. Well, don't worry. I'm sure there's a flight leaving for Vegas later tonight. I'll head back to the airport and…"

"Mom!" Felicity actually slapped her hand on the counter to get her mother's attention. It worked. Donna stopped talking and stared at her daughter. "Mom, this is all very new. We only got engaged a couple of days ago. The people here are Oliver's sister and our closest friends. You can see it's a tiny party, barely a party at all. It's not as if we announced it to the world. I swear we were going to tell you soon."

"When?"

Felicity smiled weakly. "We were thinking right after the wedding?" Oliver couldn't tell if that was meant as a joke. Apparently Donna Smoak couldn't either because her stare got a little colder.

The thirty seconds of silence felt like it lasted five minutes.

Donna must have decided it was time for another approach, because she turned from Felicity to direct her glare at Oliver. He was beginning to see what Felicity had meant when she'd said her mother might be a match for Ra's al Ghul. He fought the urge to bolt from the kitchen to the safety of Team Arrow and forced himself to meet her eyes.

"I know my daughter well enough to believe that keeping the engagement quiet was her idea," she said crisply. "She's always been a little secretive. But I can't understand, Oliver, why you didn't talk her out of it. Surely you want your wedding to be more of an event. And to not insist that she call me? Really, is this any way to begin your relationship with your future mother-in-law?" She crossed her arms over her rather ample assets and looked at him expectantly.

Oliver felt a shiver run down his spine and desperately searched his brain for the right thing to say. For anything to say. He settled on, "Felicity's happiness is the most important thing in the world to me, Mrs. Smoak. Of course I wouldn't have minded a bigger announcement and party, but this is what Felicity wanted and I will always respect her wishes."

It was a good choice. The tension left Donna's body (easily observed in that dress) and she resumed smiling at Oliver. It felt good and he was congratulating himself until he noticed that Felicity was now the one glaring at him. He had to do something, he realized, to end this conversation or there was a good chance he was going to wind up needing his bow. He tried to keep his voice light. "Maybe we should get out of the kitchen so you can meet our friends," he said to Donna. "I'm sure they'd love to be introduced to Felicity's mom."

She nodded quickly. "That's a lovely idea, Oliver." Turning to Felicity she said in a low voice, "He's hot and polite. Maybe getting married quickly wasn't such a bad idea. You want to get a ring on this one before he changes his mind."

Oliver could see the retort forming in Felicity's brain and, before she could say anything, took Donna by the elbow to hastily guide her out of the kitchen. He thought it would be a good idea to give Felicity a minute or two to regroup. It was amazing how quickly the quiet but very cordial atmosphere of the party had morphed into something else, and he was pretty certain that this was exactly what Felicity had wanted to avoid when she suggested they not call her mother. Unfortunately, he didn't think any amount of good sexing later was going to make up for it either. As they passed through the doorway he saw her reach for her wine glass and take a sizable gulp.

Back with the Team in the family room, Oliver made the introductions. Other than Diggle, every face was a new one for Donna and she assumed a more subdued tone as she met her daughter's friends. There were a few awkward moments – Oliver was sure John was going to have to explain later to Lyla why he left baby Sara in this woman's care, and Donna's eyes narrowed when she learned that Laurel was once Oliver's girlfriend – but those awkward moments passed and the conversation began to flow more easily. Whatever Felicity might say about her mom, it was clear the woman was proud of her and loved her very much. For Oliver, that made it difficult not to like Donna; any woman who could raise a person who turned out to be Felicity had to have some special qualities.

After a short while Felicity entered the room with a tray containing the chips and salsa, plus an assortment of cheeses and crackers. Her face was flushed, Oliver noted, but she appeared to have regained her composure. She took in the general atmosphere and looked at him inquiringly. He gave her a tepid smile and a miniscule shrug, as if to say as good as can be expected. She smiled back and he suddenly remembered the reason that everyone was here. They were celebrating the fact that this woman had agreed to be his wife, that she was going to be smiling like that at him for the rest of their lives. And nothing else mattered – not the glamour of the wedding, not the size of the guest list and not – God forgive him – his future mother-in-law. Just her.

She set down the tray and joined him on the sofa, resting her hand comfortably on his thigh. Both he and Felicity were quiet as their guests took over the conversation, and she gradually relaxed and leaned her head against his shoulder. It was Felicity's turn, this time, to have her childhood exposed as Donna told stories about her ability to read at age three and her habit of taking apart every mechanical thing in the house to see how it worked. Felicity cringed a few times, but for the most part seemed okay with it, and Oliver felt some of the former peace return to the party. He covered the hand that Felicity had placed on his thigh with his own and felt her warmth and light seep into him.

The doorbell rang.

Felicity and Oliver looked at each other. "Well, we know it can't be my mother," he said.

She gave him a quick smile and brushed her lips lightly against his cheek before getting up from the sofa to answer the door. When she did, Oliver once again felt the calm atmosphere of the party disappear down a black hole.

Nyssa al Ghul stood there, in full League of Assassins garb.

Everyone except Donna leapt to his or her feet. Both John and Lyla reached for their back holsters before remembering that they had left their Glocks at home. Lance and his daughter's response was a bit more measured – whatever they might think of Nyssa they both appreciated the love she'd had for Sara – but they still looked ready for battle. And Thea had fire in her eyes. For a good minute no one said a thing. The tension in the room was solid enough to walk on.

And then…

"Isn't anyone going to introduce me?" Donna's voice was plaintive.

Felicity looked up into Nyssa's eyes and Oliver could see some kind of unspoken communication pass between the two women. The exchange seemed cordial and he felt his nerves ease a little. Whatever accord they'd reached in Nanda Parbat appeared to be carrying over into Star City. Felicity stepped away from the doorway and gestured into the family room.

"Nyssa, come in and meet my mother," she said. Her voice was even but Oliver wasn't fooled. He could hear an undercurrent of something else – not exactly dread, maybe more like uneasy anticipation.

"Your mother?" As always, Nyssa was cool and composed.

"Yes, she just flew in this afternoon. Unexpectedly."

"I see." After studying Donna briefly, Nyssa strode over and announced calmly, "Nyssa al Ghul, Heir to the Demon."

In turn, Donna stared Ra's daughter up and down. She seemed a little nonplussed but not intimidated, and she clearly was unimpressed with Nyssa's style choices. "Donna Smoak, Cocktail Waitress and Felicity's mother," she responded.

The two women continued to eye each other. Oliver noticed that Felicity had remained by the door and, after observing the tension in her body, walked over to join her. It was clear she needed support. Her face wore the same expression you had when you bumped into a coffee table and watched your mother's favorite vase teeter precariously before hitting the floor and smashing into a million pieces.

Nyssa acknowledged Donna with an almost imperceptible nod. "I assume you're here for the same reason that I am – to congratulate Felicity on her engagement?"

Felicity's forehead puckered once more. It was becoming a regular thing, Oliver thought. "Okay," she said to Nyssa sharply, "how in hell did you find out about it, all the way in Nanda Parbat?" She turned to Oliver helplessly. "I don't know what I was thinking, trying to keep it quiet. We may as well have posted it on our Facebook page – if we had a Facebook page. Which we don't."

Nyssa smiled serenely. "We maintain operatives in Star City," she explained. "One of them overheard you talking on the phone to Oliver and notified me immediately."

Felicity's forehead pucker grew deeper and Oliver could almost see the wheels turning as she worked through the possibilities. The wheels stopped as she reached her conclusion. "Shelby Leibowitz is in the League of Assassins?" she asked Nyssa disbelievingly.

Nyssa shrugged. "I think that's her name. I can never remember the non-Arabic versions." After a few seconds she added, "She's quite skilled. Given that we know that you are a blood heir, we thought it a good idea to have someone watching you. For your own protection, of course, my dear niece."

Felicity frowned. Oliver couldn't tell if she was angry or touched. Maybe a little of both, he thought.

"Excuse me. Did you say niece?" Donna Smoak broke in.

Nyssa turned back to her coolly. "Yes, I am Felicity's aunt. Did she not tell you?"

Donna shook her head. "Felicity never tells me anything. And if she had, I wouldn't have believed her. My husband had one sister – and you're not her. And I don't have any sisters. So I don't think you can be her aunt. If you're trying to claim some kind of relationship now that my daughter is engaged to Oliver Queen then -"

"I am James Smoak's half –sister. Our father remarried and had a second family."

Next to him, Oliver noticed that Felicity was slipping off her shoes. He bent down close to her ear and asked softly, "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready to sprint to the bar for cover," she replied equally as quietly. "I can move a lot faster without the heels."

Across the room, Donna laughed sharply. "I'm not buying that one," she said to Nyssa. I met James' father once, and he was hardly a kid then. He must have been a hundred and ten when he had you. I know men can have children late in life, but you're going to have to come up with something better." Oliver had to hand it to her. Nyssa was taller, darker and carrying a sword, yet Felicity's mother did not seem the least bit daunted.

"Mom?" Felicity interrupted, tentatively.

"Yes, hon?"

"She's telling the truth."

Donna Smoak snorted, "Oh Felicity, wake up and smell the coffee. It's a scam. You're a young woman without much of a family and now you're the CEO of a major company, marrying Oliver Queen. People claiming to be relatives are going to be coming out of the woodwork. You can't believe any of them."

"Actually, Dad told me the story, not Nyssa."

That caught Donna Smoak short. She pursed her lips and stared at her daughter. After a moment she said flatly, "You've been talking to your father?"

"Not regularly," Felicity responded carefully. "Just once. He came to see Oliver and I when we were living in Coast City. He told me then about his father and his half-brother and sister. So I'm the one who actually confronted Nyssa with the news. She didn't believe it at first either."

Donna frowned as she digested that. "You went in search of a complete stranger to tell her that you might be related – if your father is to be believed? Felicity, what happened to your common sense? You're usually much smarter than that."

Oliver felt Felicity shift her weight to the balls of her now-bare feet - probably getting ready for that sprint. It wasn't a bad idea. At the moment he fervently wished that they'd told no one that they were getting married. Felicity was right. They should have eloped and waited at least a year before announcing the news. It would have been much safer.

Felicity took a deep breath. "Actually, Mom, Nyssa wasn't a complete stranger. We knew each other from…something else."

"Not to mention the fact," Nyssa added serenely, "that I'm Oliver's wife."

Everyone froze. You could have heard a flea scratching its head a hundred yards away. For a moment Oliver thought Donna was going to collapse into her chair, but she stiffened her spine (again, easy to see in that dress) and pulled herself together. The glare she'd given him in the kitchen was nothing compared to the one she gave him now.

"You're already married," she said to Oliver sharply.

"No, Mrs.-Donna. I'm not. It's all a misunderstanding."

She breathed in deeply. "How can you misunderstand whether you're married or not? Was there a ceremony?"

"Yes, but…"

"Did you say I do?"

"Yes, but…"

"Then what in hell are you doing proposing to my daughter and getting her hopes up? God, all my girlfriends kept reminding me about the Oliver Queen playboy stories, but I told them that you had changed, that you were going make an excellent husband for Felicity. And what do you do? You break my little girl's heart." She looked for a moment at Nyssa's sword and Oliver unconsciously raised one hand to his neck. Fortunately, the weapon appeared out of immediate reach.

He leaned over and murmured in Felicity's ear, "So, when are you making the run for the bar? I'll be right behind you – I'm ready any time." She took a step forward and he rested his hand on the small of her back.

"Perhaps I can help," Nyssa offered, causing Felicity to rock back on her heels and look over toward her aunt. "I told you in Nanda Parbat that I wouldn't contest the marriage," she said to Felicity, "and I will keep to my word." Turning her gaze to Oliver she added, "Al Sah-Him, I divorce you."

Everyone stared at her for a few beats.

"Really?" Felicity asked suddenly. "That's it? I divorce you? You couldn't have said that when we were in Nanda Parbat?"

Nyssa shrugged. "I thought I'd see if you two lasted. Apparently your relationship is stronger than I thought."

Felicity rolled her eyes and shook her head. Oliver wasn't sure if she was going to hug Nyssa or strangle her. She settled for laughter. "Oh, God, I've been worried about that stupid Nanda Parbat wedding for weeks. And all you had to say was I divorce you…" Her shoulders shook with laughter. Oliver felt himself start to chuckle as well.

Donna Smoak, however, wasn't quite so cheerful. "You met with your father," she said sharply to Felicity, ticking the statements off on her fingers. "You knew Oliver was married, and you went to some place called Nanda Parbat. Oh…and you have an aunt who dresses like she's living in the fourteenth century." After an angry pause she added, "Is there anything else you didn't tell your mother?"

"No, Mom, I think that's about it."

Donna shook her head. "My daughter," she said to Nyssa, "she's always been so damn secretive – even as a child."

Nyssa nodded. "Yes. I think she gets that from my side of the family."

Donna Smoak's eyes narrowed.

It was going to be a long evening.