Chapter Text
From a prompt posted by lynnpea
The wig itched
Right behind her left ear and just underneath the hair net holding back her blonde hair.
She discreetly moved her hand scratched the offending patch of skin.
"Felicity, are you here?" Oliver’s voice came through the comm.
She surveyed the party.
"Yes," She said, looking for her objective.
"He is at the bar." Diggle informed her.
As a member of Starling City’s elite, their new target, James Winters was set to make an appearance at Oliver’s latest fund raiser event.
Both Oliver and Digg vehemently opposed her plan but until she reminded them that unless they grew a set of boobs and girl parts, James wasn’t going let them get close enough to bug him.
If Roy had been in town, then maybe he could have him to it, but after making up with Thea and going away for the weekend -Oliver had glared and grumbled - slight of hand wasn’t an option.
Both Oliver and Diggle, while great at combat, sucked at subtly.
Which is where she came in. Obviously, she couldn’t come as her self to this event. Everyone, at least those at QC, knew her as Oliver’s former EA. And her trademark blonde hair and glasses were too memorable.
No, it was time for a disguise, such as her good-old old showgirl days. It was all in the hair and makeup.
The bar came into view and to her left, she spotted Oliver and Diggle. Their backs were to her, but she would recognize Oliver’s shoulders anywhere.
With a small shake of her head, she spotted heir target, James Winter sat near the end of the counter, and the stool next to him was empty.
She smiled.
Showtime.
"See him, I am going in."
____
"Yes." Her clean, crisp voice came into the comm. Oliver tried to find her in the crowd.
She told them she wasn’t coming as a blond. That in itself caused some sort of disconnect in his head. He really tried to imagine her with any other color, but nothing seem to stick.
Golden, shining, blond curls were just so her that any other color did not sit well with him.
He knew she dyed it. She told him herself, but it still didn’t seem possible.
Diggle looked in the other direction for her.
"Do you see her?" Oliver asked, starting to get concerned he couldn’t see her in the mass of people milling around the room.
You would think he could tell her from the crowd. Especially with all the attention he placed on each facade of her face and body.
No, he wasn’t to try to think about that at all. Diggle’s frown concerned Oliver.
His friend shook his head,”Can’t seem to find her.”
Oliver growled and was just about to talk to her when they heard, “See him. I am going in.”
Both men turned towards the bar, looking for their petite friend. Except they didn’t see her.
All Oliver saw was the back of a brunette, in a elegant, but provocative green dress walking towards Winters. He couldn’t see her face, but something about her drew is undivided attention. An awareness hummed under his skin and it unnerved him.
The gown did not reveal a shocking amount of skin. It hugged her curves and fell off her shoulders to the back of her knees. The effect was intoxicating. It drew Oliver’s eyes to the curve of her back, deepening down until the pale skin of her calves made a man’s hand itch to touch the smooth expanse.
Her hair hug down her back in lush brown waves. One side was pushed up with an emerald hair clip, exposing the long, delicate column of her neck and bare shoulder. She walked with purpose, her hips swaying from one side to the next in a languid, seductive fashion.
Then she sat next to Winters.
"Damn," Diggle said, his voice little shocked and amazed, "I think that is…"
No, it couldn’t be. But beyond the haze clouding his vision echoes of his sweet Felicity here there. In the slope of her neck, in the curve of her back. He now noticed the slender wrist and the green nail polish adorning her hands.
Felicity had green nail polish this morning.
Denial warred with desire.
The brunette, crossed her legs, letting the shirt of the dress hike up her thigh. She singled the bartender and Felicity’s voice , husky, and laced with sex filled Oliver’s ear, “Hi I’m Megan. Why don’t I buy you a drink.”
Oliver looked in the mirror. Her face, still half obscured by the hair, relived enough. The bright blue eyes were almost cobalt under the heavy, smokey shadows. Her full lips, often in bright shades of pink, were now a deep blood red, making them seem as if they have been kissed for days.
Lust slammed into him, robbing him of his breath.
Winter didn't stand a chance. The idiot curled into her like a cat and said something.
Blood thundered in his ears making it impossible to know.
Then Felicity laughed.
And Oliver’s understanding of reality unraveled.