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That night you feel like you're floating. You slip on your comfy pjs and warm up a mug of your favorite tea. You wrap a fuzzy blanket around your shoulders and climb into your computer chair. You check your emails and browse the internet for a few minutes before an idea comes to you. Oliver Queen is famous and surely would be in the news. You stare at google homepage, uncertain. You don't want to be creepy and seem like a stalker. But you can't help but be curious. Oliver certainly seems nice and like a good guy, but what if there's something you don't know? After a few more seconds of struggle, curiosity wins you over and you type Oliver's name into the search box. Immediately, several articles pop up. You see he opened a new club and he was seen around town with his old friend Tommy Merlin. Even his sister was in the news for possessing drugs. You try to keep in mind that news stories like to twist things and just because his sister got in trouble, it doesn't mean Oliver is like that. You keep scrolling until one particular headline catches your eye. "Oliver Queen: Found After Five Years." You click on the link and read with growing horror. Oliver had been missing for FIVE years! Now that you thought about it, you vaguely remember a friend mentioning a celebrity disappearing from a boat wreck a few years back. You never kept up with celebrity news though, and quickly forgot about it. Now it comes rushing back to you and you feel a lead weight forming deep in your stomach. How could you have been so insensitive to Oliver? You look at the date of the article and see it was only about two years ago. And his father had died then too. You feel terrible. You couldn't imagine what Oliver must have been gone through. You read the article thoroughly, but nothing is clearly mentioned about what Oliver had done those five years, just that he was on an island. You lean back in your chair, wondering if it would be appropriate to ask Oliver. You know it really isn't, but you don't see how you can continue a relationship with him without at least discussing it. That night you sleep fitfully.

When morning comes you feel like you haven't slept at all. You get into your car and drive to work, hardly listening to the music you usually have playing. You stop at a stoplight and happen to glance to your right. Queen Consolidated towered above you. You pass it every day to work and only now you notice it. Without hardly thinking, as soon as the light turns green you switch into the right lane to turn, receiving a honk from behind you. All you see right now though, is that giant blue Q above the city. You park across the street and practically run toward the entrance. When you get there, you pause for a moment, hesitating. What are you doing? You shake your head. You've come this far. You push the huge glass doors open and walk inside. You briefly wonder where the heck you're supposed to go before a security guard stops you.
"I'm sorry, miss, I'm going to need to see your ID," he says.
"Uh..." you scramble for an excuse. "I'm here to see Oliver Queen."
"And for that, you'll need to have a visitor's pass," the security guard eyes you up and down. "Which, you need to have called in before about."
"I- really, Oliver knows me. I'm his....just call him, please," you plead. The security does not look to be in a giving mood however, and crosses his arms.
"Miss, I'm gonna have to ask you to-" he's cut off by a new voice.
"She's with me." Your thudding heart beats triple time.
"Of course, Mr. Queen," the guard nods and waves you through. You walk around the guard and see Oliver. He briefly flashes you a smile. You give a tentative one in return. Now that you see him, you're not sure what to say.
"Hi," you say, sort of waving your hand. Stupid.
"Hi," Oliver says softly in return. He glances around and sees his workers eyeing you curiously. "Let's go to my office." He directs you in front of him toward the elevator. The ride up is awkwardly silent. There's one other person in the elevator and the only thing you and Oliver can do is make eye contact. Which you break quickly every time. You can't stare into his eyes for long without bursting. You finally make it to his office and he closes the door behind you.
"So, what brings you here?" Oliver asks you, gesturing for you to sit on the couch with him.
You look around wide eyed. His office is magnificent. Huge, with floor to ceiling windows. You can see the whole city.
"Um," you reply distractedly. "I had to see you." You look at him sharply, suddenly aware of what you said.
"Oh?" Oliver ask, raising an eyebrow and smirking a little. You blush.
"Just...I...." you stumble. You stand up quickly and start pacing, wringing your hands. "I'm not sure how to say this," you finish.
"Say what?" Oliver says. He's still sitting down calmly on the sofa.
You take a deep breath. Come on....out with it. You turn to face Oliver. "Oliver, I have trust issues. I was curious last night and I....looked you up," you confess, carefully watching his reaction.
He sighs a little. "And what did you find?"
Your hands fall to your sides. "I think you know," you say quietly.
Oliver nods slowly, staring at the floor. "What do you want me to say?" he asks.
You rush to the sofa, sitting back down next to him. "Nothing. I just...I felt you should know that I knew."
Oliver meets your eyes. "And now I know."
"I'm sorry, Oliver," you apologize. "I should have let you tell me..."
Oliver smiles. "It's okay." He takes your hands in his, looking down at them. "It's generally common knowledge anyway. I'm surprised you didn't know before."
You shrug sheepishly. "I don't keep up with celebrities much."
"Is that what I am?" Oliver grins, amused.
"I guess," you grin in return. "So...you're not mad at me?"
"No," he smiles. You let out a breath of relief.
"Oh good. Cause I have a habit of scaring off guys."
Oliver squeezes your hand. "It's takes a lot to scare me off."
Then he leans forward and kisses you, an amazingly gentle kiss. You feel warmth spread through body and all your reservations about Oliver go flying out the window. This guy couldn't possibly be hiding anything.
"How about I take you out to dinner?" Oliver asks after he pulls away. "I know you don't like fancy restaurants, but let me take you somewhere nice."
You laugh. "Okay. Just don't blame me if I butcher those meal names."
"I won't hold it against you," Oliver chuckles.
You gaze at each other for a moment, happy. You furrow your brow. "Oliver, about the island...You don't have to talk about it of course. I just want you to know I'm sorry."
Oliver smiles, though his eyes are sad. "Thank you."
Your phone rings, breaking the moment. You pull it out, giving an apologetic smile to Oliver. "Oh crap," you say, reading the ID.
"What is it?"
You stand up quickly and this time Oliver stands with you. "I'm late for work....I kinda forgot to tell my boss I was coming here. It was sort of last minute...." you grimace.
Oliver kisses you again. "Well, I'm glad you came."
You think you might melt a little. "Me too."
"I'll pick you up at 8," Oliver says, walking you to the door.
"Okay," you smile, pausing for a moment to study Oliver's handsome face. Then you rush quickly out of the building, hoping you aren't too late and excited about tomorrow.