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Slade Wilson in a three-piece suit was ... interesting, Oliver decided. Also: a complication he really wasn't looking for right now, most likely.
On the other hand, simply ignoring Slade seemed the bigger of two evils, so instead of trying to do that, Oliver settled for a nod that could have meant anything from 'long time no see' to 'gosh, I think I may have met you before but I'll be damned if I can remember your name' and said, "Hey."
Slade was either not undercover, not on a mission or not averse to wasting a few seconds chatting.
"Evening."
"Wow, you're hot," Felicity said, and Slade smirked.
"She means you're armed," Oliver said. "Heavily."
Slade nodded, as if he had known this all along. "Oh, I am. Place like this, you never know what kind of trouble you're going to run into."
"A party?" Felicity asked, and Oliver thought thank you.
Slade snorted. "That's one word for it. Glasses?"
"What?" Felicity blinked.
"How you knew I was armed," Slade said. "It's in your glasses, isn't it?"
Oliver coughed in a way that he hoped conveyed that it might be a good idea not to let the guy from the Australian Special Forces in on all of their trade secrets.
"Absolutely," Felicity said and then she added, "No offense," which seemed a bit of a non sequitur until she said, "You must get that a lot," which didn't really clarify anything, even if Slade looked as if it did, to him.
"None taken." Slade glanced at Oliver. "So. You here to shoot anyone?"
"Shoot someone?" Oliver forced a laugh. Felicity looked a 'remember when I told you what a terrible liar you were? that still totally applies' at him, which was not helping.
"You think that's funny?" Slade asked. He seemed slightly amused.
"I'm sorry, I assumed you were joking," Oliver said. "Obviously, I don't shoot people."
"Ever," Felicity said, and Oliver looked a 'please don't help' at her, which earned him a scowl. "No matter what," she said. "Perfectly normal rich playboy right here."
"A playboy, huh?" Slade said, and there was something really very annoying and offensive about his tone, so Oliver said, "I work a lot, too."
"And out," Felicity said. "Also very much. More than the other kind, probably."
"Staying in shape." Slade nodded. "That's good."
Your approval is meaningless to me, Oliver wanted to say, but didn't. "Yes," he said, instead.
"So did you and Oliver know each other from, you know. Before?" Felicity asked.
"You could say that," Slade said.
"Or not," Oliver said. "How about we don't say that? Instead, why don't we all get going doing what we came here for in the first place? I'm sure you didn't come here for the canapes."
Slade shrugged. "I'm here for you."
This can't be good, Oliver thought, and right on cue, he heard Felicity ask, "So were you and Oliver like, a thing?" which hadn't exactly been what he'd been worried about, truth be told.
Still, it wasn't what he'd call good, either. "A thing," Slade said.
"A friends kind of thing," Felicity said. She was blushing, a little.
"Yeah," Slade said. "You?"
"Strictly business," Felicity said cheerfully. Clearly, she was a much better liar than Oliver could ever hope to be. "No personal attachments at all."
"I find that hard to believe," Slade said, and Oliver tensed, but then Slade said, "On the other hand, he always was a bit oblivious. Or more than a bit, if you really have to know," and Felicity said, "I know exactly what you mean," and Oliver thought What?, because he was pretty sure he wasn't.
"I consider Felicity a friend," he said, his gaze meeting Slade's. "A very good friend. I would take it extremely badly if anything were to happen to her."
Slade looked unimpressed. "That's cute."
"He doesn't say stuff like that a lot," Felicity said. "So, you know, relatively speaking."
"He should," Slade said. "I've read your file. It's impressive."
"I have a file?" Felicity asked. "Why do I have a file?"
More to the point: why does Slade have a file? Oliver thought. On Felicity?
"Because you're very good at what you do," Slade said.
"I am?" Felicity asked, and Oliver coughed and she squared her shoulders and said, "I am," like she meant it. "I am very, very good at what I do." Her shoulders slumped again. "What, exactly, do I do that I'm very good at?"
"Everything," Slade said, and Oliver thought Whoa because that was laying it on rather thick, really. "Bet he doesn't tell you that very often, either."
"I do, actually," Oliver said, and Slade asked, "Does he?" and Felicity looked like she was thinking about it, so Oliver added, "And excuse me if I'm wrong, but didn't you say you'd come here for me?"
"Distractions happen," Slade said.
"I like my job," Felicity said, which was good, but then she said, "Even if I never get paid for overtime and the health benefits aren't that great," which was ... still not bad. "And people try to kill me. A lot."
"And I protect her," Oliver put in quickly.
"Well, she's still alive," Slade said. "So I guess you haven't screwed up too badly. Yet."
"You want to take this outside?" Oliver asked. "I think we should take this outside. Let's just take this outside."
It was a reasonable proposal, he felt - safer for everyone that way, but then Slade said, "I'm not taking my clothes off outside - are you crazy? It's freezing out there," which did not make any sense at all.
"I don't put out on first dates, anyway," Felicity said, which didn't make much sense, either.
Possibly, there had been something in the drinks. Oliver tried to look around the room inobtrusively, to check if anyone else was behaving strangely.
"He doesn't get it," Slade said.
"In his defense, you weren't very explicit," Felicity said, and Slade said, "How explicit should I get?" and she said, "Very," and Slade looked like he wasn't sure whether to get annoyed or amused.
"Anyone care to clue me in?" Oliver asked.
Slade looked at Felicity, who shrugged. "Sex," Slade said. "I think the three of us should have some."
"Now?" Not the question he wanted to ask, really, but Are you out of your mind? seemed just a little bit rude, to say nothing of superfluous.
"At some point in the near future," Slade said.
"I think I should read your file first," Felicity said. "In the interest of, you know. Fairness."
Slade grinned. "I'll tell you which network to hack. Sure you can take it from there," and she said, "Cool," as if that was all the important details taken care of, then.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Oliver asked.
Slade shrugged and said, "The lady doesn't put out on first dates," and Felicity said, "This is more, like, the zeroest date? And it's more of a guideline, anyway," which Slade apparently considered an invitation to step in a bit closer and kiss her.
He's tall, Oliver thought, which did not seem particularly relevant. He's probably a pretty good kisser, wasn't either, and probably untrue, besides; he didn't imagine people in the Australian Special Forces got all that much time to go around kissing people. Not like a perfectly normal rich playboy.
"You want something?" Slade asked. Felicity's face was not flushed the way Oliver imagined it would be if she'd just been kissed by someone who didn't know how to kiss people.
"I don't put out on first dates, either," he said, and Slade stared at him for a solid ten seconds before he shrugged and said, "Good enough."