Chapter Text
Oliver doesn’t talk at all during the elevator ride down to the parking basement. It’s kind of weird. Oliver is kind of a man of few words so that doesn’t really bother her, they don’t really have awkward lulls between them, and most of the time she talks enough for the two of them, whatever, she’s used to it, but that’s not why this Longest Elevator Ride Ever is weird. It’s weird because Oliver will not stop fidgeting- pulling at his shirtsleeves from inside his jacket, buttoning and unbuttoning said jacket, adjusting his collar, then his tie. She knows that the parking garage is about thirty-eight floors below them, so that’s kind of far, but it’s never really taken this long before, has it? Is there some kind of problem? Why is it taking so long?
Felicity cannot take it anymore. “Will you stop that? What’s wrong with you?” She snaps at him.
Oliver’s hands on his tie stops moving, but his hands remain where they are as he turns to her. “Uh,” he says helplessly.
She rolls her eyes turning so she’s completely facing him. “Come over here,” she sighs, reaching out to him. He steps closer to her and she actually has to pry his hands off of the collar of his shirt. “I have no idea what your deal is,” she says, lifting up his collar so she can actually straighten his tie (which was fine before he started fidgeting, for the record). “It’s just a date, okay? You’ll be fine.” She finishes, turning his collar back down and patting him on the chest. “Worst case scenario, she’s kind of psychotic and threatens to kill everyone you love unless you help her with her over the top revenge mission, but we’ve handled that before so you should be fine.” She’s cringing by the end of her sentence. Way to calm him down. “Too soon?”
Oliver makes the weirdest kind of laughing-but-also-maybe-kind-of-whining-animal sound and Felicity has never been happier to hear the ding that signals they’re finally where they’re supposed to be.
The elevator doors open and they step out onto the dimly lit parking garage and she’s about to set off to where her car is parked in her special “Reserved for F. Smoak” spot when she hears Oliver clear his throat behind her. “Felicity, wait,” he says and she doesn’t even really get that chance to like, run away (not that she actually would, but having the option would have been nice in this case, maybe?) before he’s grabbing her hand and leading her to his car.
“What-“ she tries to wiggle her hand free but his grip tightens minutely so she has no choice but to follow. He’s walking as quick as he can without actually dragging her, lips pressed in a thin line and eyes… well his eyes kind of look crazed right now, but she doesn’t want to think about it too much. When they get to his car, he opens the passenger door for her and motions her inside, avoiding her eyes. “What is wrong with you? You’re going to be so late to dinner, I can drive myself home!” She complains, but he’s all but pushing her in with the pleading look in his eyes so she sighs and gets in. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do but this is weirding me out and just you know, Sara will kick your ass in about an hour when she realizes I’m not at the foundry with her dinner.”
He runs around the front of the car and takes his seat behind the wheel, starting the car and backing it out of the parking spot. “Just humor me,” he says, still not looking at her.
“This is whole new level of crazy, even for you,” she says as he drives out of the garage. When he doesn’t say anything, she huffs and takes her phone out of her purse. She is going to ignore him and play candy crush the whole way home.
Ten minutes later, the car slows down to a stop. She’s still staring at her phone and ignoring him so she’s a little bit startled when the he hears someone say, “Mr. Queen,” when his car door opens.
She turns to look at the window expecting to see her building but what she sees is definitely not her building. Oliver opens the door, helps her out of the car and says, very uncertainly, “Surprise?”
“What?” She screeches, and Oliver and the valet driver and the guy holding the door open to Table Salt actually wince.
“We’re-“ Oliver tries to reach for her and she steps back. He sighs, “I wanted to surprise you.”
What? “What?”
“You’re my date okay? This is a date. We’re on a date. Look can we just-“ He reaches for her again and she doesn’t step away so he’s able to put a hand on her arm, but she doesn’t move. “Let’s go inside, and we’ll talk there, okay? Please?” He asks, walking towards her very slowly like she’s some kind wounded animal. Or like he’s scared. Like he should be.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She asks again, and she still sounds kind of screechy. “I’m not going on a date with you, I have plans tonight, what the hell!”
He looks around like he's kind of worried people are going to start gathering around the scene they're causing. “Felicity, please, let’s just go inside, get some food and talk, okay?”
“This is not a date,” she declares, twisting his arm away from him and walking inside to the hostess’ podium. “Hi, we have a reservation for two at seven thirty?” She says sweetly to the woman standing there. When she smiles at her and checks the computer, she turns to look at Oliver and says in the same voice, “It’s under Oliver Queen? I made the reservation this morning.”
Oliver winces but guides her to the table the hostess leads them to, pulling out her chair. The waiter comes to take their order and Felicity glares at Oliver when he asks her what she wants to eat, so he orders for both of them.
“I’m sorry,” he says, leaning over the table after the waiter leaves. “I thought I would surprise you-“
“With a date?” she cuts him off. “You decide you want to take me out on a date so you have me make the reservations and then kidnap me? You honestly thought that was a good idea?” He doesn’t say anything so she continues, “Like, you actually woke up this morning and thought, ‘hey I’m gonna take Felicity out on a date tonight, but it’ll be a surprise, she’ll love it,’” she says, lowering her voice to sound like him.
“I don’t sound like that."
The waiter comes back with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew and before he can start opening the bottle, Felicity stops him. “No, wait sorry. We’re not having the wine, this isn’t a date,” she says through her teeth and her eyes cut to Oliver, daring him to argue. The waiter nods and walks away, comes back with their food, tells them to enjoy their meal, emphasis on meal, and backs away slowly like he's scared Felicity is going to glare at him next.
Felicity pushes her vegetables around her plate with a fork. She looks at Oliver who honestly looks scared for his life, and sighs, “Look, I guess I appreciate the thought but it still wasn’t a good idea.” He apologizes again and she tries to smile at him, but he still looks kind of pained, so she’s guessing it didn’t work. “You can’t just surprise people with dates, Oliver. Like, you didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go out with you.”
“You don’t?”
She sets her fork down, looks around and laughs. Oliver surprised her with a date. She has no idea what’s going on anymore. “That's beside the point, because you didn’t ask.”
Oliver takes her hand and she flinches a little bit, but she doesn’t pull away so he squeezes, laughing at himself. “I'm sorry, I just thought – I’ve kinda been-“
“You’ve what?” she asks and then it dawns on her. Those weird looks. The 3D printer. The migraine tea. Big belly. “Oh my god you were coming onto me? I thought you were just being nice! I mean you’re always nice, so didn’t really think about it, though the expensive 3D printer should have been – and you told me I was pretty, oh my god,” She groans covering her face with her hands.
Oliver grimaces, “I was trying to be subtle, but I guess I was too subtle.” He laughs, “and with what happened outside? You’re gonna give me some kind of complex, here.”
She laughs, “I’m not apologizing, it was still a terrible idea. This is still not a date.”
He nods, looking (and probably feeling) relieved. “I know. I’ll ask next time,” he says and for a second, she sees something flash in his eyes that makes her feel warm all over, but then it’s gone and he’s asking, “but do you think you could maybe reconsider the wine?”
She nods and they laugh through dinner.
The car stops in front of her building and he cuts the engine.
“I can’t believe you told everyone but me,” she laughs, hiding her face in her hands. “ And I’m still kind of mad about this whole thing, by the way.” Oliver hangs his head and apologizes again, but she’s still laughing. “I can’t believe this whole night happened.”
He’s smiling at her, relieved that she's not as mad anymore, but he still looks kind of helpless.
“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen,” she says, shouldering her purse. “I’m going to go inside,” she points to her building, “and you are not going to walk me up because this isn’t a date.” She steps out of the car and closes the door, motioning for him to roll the window down. When he does, she leans in. “But you can try again.” She smiles at him. “You can ask me out properly tomorrow.”
“Are you going to say yes?”
She shakes her head and presses her lips together, trying to hide the grin threatening to overtake her face. “You’ll find out when you ask me. And if I say yes, you are not going to ask me to make a reservation.” He cringes at the memory and she laughs, standing up straight. “Goodnight, Oliver.”
“Goodnight, Felicity.” He smiles at her and he looks so hopeful that she wants to kiss him. But she won’t. Not tonight.
She turns around and walks up to her apartment, and she doesn’t hear him start the car until she’s closed the door behind her.
The next day, Oliver comes up to her and asks, “Felicity, would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?”
She smiles, “Like on a date?”
“Yes.” He nods. “Yes, on a date. Will you go out on a date with me tonight?”
That night, she lets him walk her up to her door after their date, and she kisses him goodnight.