This time, while Derek's gone, Felicity doesn't do more than glance at her phone once to check for any important notifications. Instead, she spends most of her time alone thinking about him, and trying to put her finger on exactly what he could mean by a different way.

A few pictures get painted in her mind. Maybe he's an undercover cop, not interested in the likes of friendly orientation wifi hackers, but one who's been embedded with a crime mob for so long he sometimes wonders if he's still doing the right thing. Or maybe, he's a vigilante, like Steve Rogers, who, she still can't believe she met the other day. Or- maybe, she watches too many tv shows.

The movement of him sitting back down though, is enough to snap her out of it, and Felicity can't help but feel a little bit excited to know what he's about to say. So, as she pulls her tea in towards her with both hands and blows gently at the top to help it cool down, she waits.

"A T.V. show that had an excellent premise, two beautiful actors, but terrible, terrible plot." It just sort of comes out, because there's no way that she actually thinks he's asking her about the supernatural. She thinks he's just going to use it as a metaphor, like she did with magic, which, also isn't real.