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It is a truth universally acknowledged that no one touched or breathed the same air as Felicity Smoak’s computer, unless it is Felicity Smoak herself.  

However, it’s a truth only a few people know about, and when she comes back to her apartment only to find her laptop on, she’s livid. Perhaps not exactly livid – it’s more of a panic inducing moment followed by extreme nervousness and rage, coupled with an irrational fear of the computer running away and trampling over her, most likely stemmed from her kangaroo phobia.

Regardless, it’s her computer and unfortunately her roommate, Laurel Lance, clearly forgot how much it means to her. Her baby is more important than food and sleep, providing her such comfort and intense feelings she knows no dish.  Nothing could compare to how safe and dangerous she feels with her trusty laptop on hand, and Laurel’s body hovering over it absolutely terrifies her. 

“Sorry!” Laurel softly shuts the lid and flops back on their shared sofa, a look of innocence plastered on her face. “It’s – I left my charger at Starbucks, and I had to apply for jobs, and I thought I could maybe guess your password?“ She sighs and collapses on the couch, warily looking at Felicity. “Please don’t be mad.” 

“Oh, I’m not mad.” Felicity steps forward and dumps her house key on the table, slowly inching towards her computer and snatching it away as fast as she can. Hugging it close to her chest, she eyes Laurel and points a finger at her. “This is your first and only warning.”

Laurel rolls her eyes and smiles as she raises her right hand and promises, “This will be the one and only time I’ll touch it.”

Felicity sighs in relief and sits next to Laurel, the couch dipping from their combined weight. She opens the lid and quickly types her password, asking, “Still haven’t heard anything?”

“No,” Laurel groans. She covers her face with her hands and sighs loudly. “I never thought I would be an unemployed lawyer.”

“They don’t know a good lawyer when they see one,” Felicity reassures her.

Laurel scoffs. “I wish that was the case.

A grin creeps up on Felicity’s lips once she relaxes on the couch. As she begins surfing the Web, she can’t help but reminisce about their time spent together. It’s been nearly six years since they’ve met – Felicity was a simple nerdy MIT girl who chanced upon a cool group of kids who had friends at Boston University, one of which was named Laurel Lance. They didn’t start off as friends, but as they got to know one another their friendship solidified into something much better, and here they stand, living a decent life together in Star City.

Felicity’s grown quite close to Laurel’s family, the Lances; Laurel tends to have a big sister complex surrounding her and she took Felicity under her wing. Laurel’s father, Quentin, is loud and caring, an extreme softie when it comes to his daughters while his wife, Dinah Lance, is a refined and polished lady, her warm hugs reminding Felicity of her mother. Laurel’s little sister, Sara, is an absolute firecracker, always getting into trouble but continuously providing laughs.

They’ve made her feel like she’s a part of the family and for that she’s forever grateful. There are times when she feels she’s imposing on their shared moments, but they always make a point to include her, no matter how awkward it makes for her. She’s slowly coming to accept this is going to be her life now, and it makes her happy in all the ways she never thought possible. 

As for Laurel, she’s the confident and friend, dragging Felicity along to parties and networking meetings whenever they have the chance. When it comes to these two there’s no backing down from anything, a sentiment they share. It feels good having someone on her side, and the emptiness Felicity had grown accustomed to dissipates as she spends more time with Laurel.

Currently, Felicity works as a consultant at Queen Consolidated, traveling often and visiting QC’s various branches in different cities and countries, advising and teaching its employees how to use the programs she and her team designed. The gig pays well, and she’s happy with her current situation.  Her skills made her climb the ranks in a short amount of years, and by next year she might get another promotion, one which may bring her salary significantly up. There aren’t many things Felicity’s proud of but this is one of them.

 Life is . . . good.

“Hey, I brought snacks from home. Do you want anything?” Laurel asks. She hops over to the kitchen and produces Twinkies and brownies, laying them out on the counter. “If you don’t, I’ll eat them myself. I’m always hungry.”

Without thinking, Felicity stands up and softly pads over to the small kitchen. She watches Laurel apprehensively – the lack of job prospects was getting to her best friend. She could see the frustration clouding Laurel, but as of late it was turning into resignation. More often than not Felicity found several snacks and movies littered about in their apartment, a sad reminder of all that hard work Laurel did, slowly withering away.

Taking the brownie box and loudly ripping it open, Felicity glances up at Laurel and probes, “What movies did you watch today?” She shoves a brownie in her mouth, the thick chocolate making it difficult for her to chomp down and swallow. Jesus.

Humming and breaking a piece of her Twinkie, she tips her head to side and contemplates. “I was planning on watching 80’s movies I’ve never seen, but then I thought I should start watching Breaking Bad.” She pops the piece in her mouth and chews loudly, her head still in deep thought. “Then I realized it would make me want to change career paths and be a DEA agent, so I started watching Law & Order.” Almost immediately her nose wrinkles in distaste, and she drops the Twinkie on the counter, sighing. “But it made me sad.”

Felicity slows down on her chewing and eyes Laurel, unsure of how to continue on the conversation. She doesn’t want to tell her she went to the HR department and asked if they were hiring any lawyers. Cindy, the HR supervisor, was happy about the suggestion, but once Felicity showed her a picture of Laurel, Cindy brushed her aside and said she was “too pretty.”

Shrugging, Felicity takes another bite from her brownie and suggests, “Maybe you should stick with Dora the Explorer.”

“Ha ha.” Laurel's certainly not amused. “What should I do? I passed my bar and I haven’t heard back from anyone.” Throwing her hands in the air she dramatically adds, “What did I ever do to deserve this punishment?”

Desperately trying to hold back her tongue, Felicity closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. There are some . . . tendencies Laurel displayed and it didn’t bode too well with her. Felicity grew up in bad circumstances, fighting tooth and nail to get here. She hardly complained – she’s beyond grateful for the way things turned out, but Laurel dealt with different conditions.  Her best friend didn’t have everything handed to her, but she occasionally felt she was the victim, when in fact it was reality catching up to her. Still, she chooses not to say anything, knowing it would make matters worse. Besides, Felicity couldn’t stand Laurel moping around.

Suddenly feeling tired, Felicity kicks off her heels and stretches her back, ignoring Laurel’s reflections. “I’m going to take a nap. See you in a couple of hours.” She doesn’t miss Laurel rolling her eyes at her flimsy excuse.

She turns and heads for the bedroom, not paying Laurel any attention. “When you wake, you’ll know where to find me!” Felicity hears.

Groaning and absolutely not prepared to listen to Laurel’s wallowing, she yells back, “Cool! Save me a spot!”

“Sure thing! Right next to me on the couch!”

 “Did you hear about Mr. Queen’s son visiting QC?”

Yawning and glancing up from her glasses, Felicity questions, “What about his son?”

McKenna Lucas, the department’s secretary, clicks her tongue and leans on the desk, getting ready to spill the gossip. “He’s coming back after a five year stint in Hong Kong and Moscow.” Sticking a piece of gum in her mouth she adds, “Some say he’s reformed himself after his father died and he is quite the catch.” She raises an eyebrow. “Plus he’s got his eyes set on the CFO position so he’s going to be even more loaded.”

Felicity snorts. “Good looking or not, I still remember when he peed on a cop car and made the headlines every single day.” She leans back in her chair. “You know, I kind of miss those days. Oliver Queen’s antics made watching TMZ surprisingly fun.”

“You’re no fun,” McKenna admonishes. She glances at Felicity’s calendar before asking, “Hey, weren’t you and Laurel planning a vacation next week?”

Felicity sighs and spins in her chair before responding. “Well, I have to head out to Metropolis in two months, and Laurel’s being . . .”

“Annoying?”

Guilt courses through her, because yes, Laurel could be annoying. Not bad annoying but older sister annoying. While it could be endearing, as of late it’s turned into a nuisance. Laurel needs someone to vent to – which Felicity doesn’t mind – but she’s not equipped to handle emotional issues that don’t deal with immature mothers and money problems. What’s going on with Laurel is tame compared to a multitude of other things. Still, she doesn’t want to spend her limited time in Star City getting frustrated for something as silly as this.

Nervous and unwilling to admit she feels that way, Felicity chews on her lip and waits. McKenna eyes her carefully and slightly judgmentally, her exotic facial features smoothing over and getting ready to call her out. Giving up, Felicity exhales and groans. “Does it make me a bad person if I do find her annoying? She wasn’t always like this. And I get why she’s feeling this way – she worked nonstop at a nonprofit place with no law degree, and now that she’s an actual lawyer no one wants to hire her.” Felicity taps her foot for a moment and muses, “I did tell her to get into IT. People are always hiring.”

“Please, after seeing how much you work on your computers and the endless hours dedicated to having no social life?” Felicity’s brows furrow at McKenna’s statement. “I’ll stick with my secretary job, thank you very much.”

“Fine." McKenna smiles knowingly and Felicity continues, “I’ll stick with my totally awesome job where I got to live in Singapore for three months.”

“Oh, now you’re showing off.”

Felicity raises an invisible glass. “Can’t help it!”

McKenna chuckles heartedly and adds, “And no, it doesn’t make you bad person if you feel that way about Laurel. Sometimes . . . things change, and we can’t help it.”

Her happy mood suddenly disappears. “Yeah. Thanks, McKenna.” She smiles fondly, tapping on the door before leaving. For some reason Felicity starts to feel uneasy about something that has yet to come, and she’s not prepared for it. 

It’s eight in the evening, and during this time Felicity prefers to stay indoors, curled up with a bottle of wine and ice cream. Tonight, however, Laurel is insistent they, McKenna, and another friend – Jessica – go out. At the present Laurel is completely dressed whereas Felicity lounges on the sofa.

She doesn’t want to go. At all. She would rather talk through the night or do something silly, not get buzzed and spend an hour dressing up for no one. Going to the clubs was – is – never her thing, because more often than not Felicity spends the rest of the night clutching a porcelain throne in the most glorious manner.

Right now Laurel’s not taking her excuses and as she tugs on Felicity’s arm she finds herself giving in.

“Please?” Laurel quits and towers over Felicity, her heels digging holes in their carpet as her hands rest on her hips. “You’re always traveling and when you’re here you’re tired.”

“I know,” Felicity moans. “It’s just – I feel I’m too old for that . . . stuff,” she finishes, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. Clubbing is so juvenile.

Laurel gasps. “I’m twenty-eight – does that make me old?”

“No, not at all,” she responds awkwardly. “Can we just make a fort and have a sleepover instead?” 

Scoffing, Laurel lunges for Felicity and pulls her up. She yelps at the sudden movement and cries, “Ow, my arm!”

“Who cares?” Laurel snaps. She’s got Felicity all the way up, and once Laurel starts pushing her to walk forward, Felicity retaliates by putting no pressure and collapsing in her arms. “Ugh, Felicity!” Laurel huffs behind. 

“You told me to get up and now I’m up.” Felicity steps back; she’s standing on her own now. Turning around and facing Laurel, she places her hands on her shoulders and deadpans, “Pushing me into the bathroom won’t work.”

Laurel swipes Felicity’s hands off and crosses her arms. Whatever eye shadow Laurel carefully put on glitters under artificial light, and Felicity suddenly feels terrible she’s being moody. Something flickers across Laurel’s face, and her lips turn upward, forming a devilish grin. “When was the last time you slept with someone?”

Balking at her statement, Felicity stutters as she tries to find the right way to tell Laurel it's none of her business. “Okay, that is a very inappropriate question!” There was no way in hell Felicity was going to tell her how nonexistent her love life was. The least she can do is embellish it.

Clearing her throat and sticking her head up in defiance, Felicity lies, “And I have had sex. With foreign men. Lots of them. Bearded, not bearded, short and tall. All kinds of foreign men.”

“Really.”

“Really. “ Laurel’s not convinced. “Maybe I would rather go clubbing where the men are well-behaved and handsome, not gross and American.” She stops for a moment, unaware of how truthful that statement is.

“That is some serious bullshit, Felicity. Look, if you had a social life, then I wouldn’t have asked! C’mon, just once. Please?”

Hearing Laurel plead breaks her. Frankly, there’s no reason for her not to go, and truth be told she does want to get slightly drunk. Work has been tiring and time-consuming for Felicity, and the least she can do is hangout with her roommate and friend.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity acquiesces. “Fine." Laurel squeals in delight, but before she can drag Felicity in her room, she warns, “You win this round, but I won’t be easily swayed next time.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Loud music pumps through the club, creating a massive headache for Felicity, which will only get worse once she starts drinking. She, McKenna, Laurel and Jessica have been sitting in a booth for the past forty-five minutes, idly chatting and avoiding dancing altogether. Felicity would do anything to prevent random strangers press their pelvis against her body without permission, and that means drinking martinis while sitting down.

Seeing that it’s a Friday night the club is packed, the air humid and a cacophony of drunken laughter and electronic music floating about. Felicity sighs and leans back on the booth, incredibly uninterested. Sensing her boredom, McKenna smiles and questions, “How’s the project coming along?”

Shrugging, Felicity takes a sip of her drink and sighs. “It’s a bit difficult. We’re trying to reinvent how credit card information goes through an entire system, and basically we’re starting from scratch.” McKenna politely nods her head as Felicity rambles on. “The team is trying to create a new channel to put all that information through, and if we don’t figure it out, someone else will.” Suddenly self-conscious about her rambling, Felicity blushes and waves it off. “Sorry, I just get excited when I talk about it. And it’s been hard.”

“Don’t apologize!” McKenna takes a sip from her daiquiri and smiles affectionately. “I like that you’re passionate about your job.” Inhaling deeply and relaxing on the booth, she adds, “I started working at QC when I was twenty, and here I am at twenty-seven. I’ve seen more men in that department than I have in my lifetime. It’s about time a woman as smart as you shakes things up.”

Warmth blossoms inside Felicity’s chest and she grins, feeling proud. “Thanks. Now if guys would stop getting intimidated by my wealth of knowledge . . .”

McKenna scoffs loudly. “Boys are so immature. Don’t waste your time on those who can’t handle someone as wonderful as you.”

“I second that,” quips Laurel. She scoots closer towards Felicity, Jessica in tow.  Smiling brightly, she wraps an arm around Felicity’s neck and begs, “Now that we agree men are stupid, what do you think about getting on the dance floor?”

“Uh, no.” The moment she finishes saying it, all three women protest loudly, begging her to come along. At one point both Laurel and Jessica are pulling her arms, and when she can’t take it anymore Felicity finally relents.  “Okay, okay I’ll go!”

All four of them head out to the dance floor, and before long Felicity finds herself dancing along absentmindedly, moving to the rhythm as she does so. It feels good to finally let go, and despite her pumps pinching on her toes Felicity succumbs to the sensations.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been, but eventually she tires and decides more alcohol will help. “I’m going to the bar. Anyone want something?”

“Ooh, I do!” Jessica replies. She steps away from Laurel’s clutches and grabs onto Felicity’s arm, leaning in close to her ear. “At the rate Laurel’s going, she’s going to be super wasted. I haven’t seen her like this in a long time,” she notes. A brief flicker of anxiousness gets to Felicity, but once she turns around and finds Laurel safely dancing with McKenna she calms down just a bit. There’s no need to worry.

Felicity chooses not to respond and instead leads the way, dragging Jessica with her. “So, how’s work for you?” A large man bumps into her and fails to apologize. “Rude,” she mutters under her breath.

“Huh?” Jessica yells back. A man suddenly distracts her friend with his good looks, and Felicity does her best to yank Jessica away. “What were you saying?”

Felicity repeats, “How’s work?” Talking in clubs could be such a nuisance, and for some reason there’s a lot of traffic around the bar. “It’s impossible to walk here,” she notes.

Jessica nods in agreement. “There are a lot of people bunched over on the right. “ Felicity stops walking so she can get a look, and at the same time Jessica cranes her neck upward, sneaking a peek.

“Do you see a place where we can walk through without getting pushed over?”

She shakes her head. “Not at the moment, no.” Jessica places a hand on Felicity’s arm, halting her steps. “Seems like people are surrounding a couple of guys. Might be famous, ” she observes while standing on her tiptoes.

Thankful for her five-inch heels, Felicity follows suit, and sure enough she finds two handsome men flocked by a plethora of women. “Or maybe it’s their inhumanly good looks that’s garnering a lot of attention,” Felicity says drily. She’s about ready to make another run for the bar when Jessica suddenly gasps in excitement. “What is it?”

Her friend is apparently too busy to respond, but when Felicity asks again Jessica excitedly tells her, “It’s Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn!”

“Am I supposed to find this interesting?” She would be lying if she isn’t a little bit curious, but she’s not going to waste her time waiting around to see if she can get a glance. Now that Felicity’s developed a healthy buzz, dancing seems to be a fairly good option as opposed to clamoring around Tommy and Oliver.

Jessica playfully pushes Felicity and gushes, “No one’s seen Oliver in five years and Tommy is absolutely adorable.” Jessica cranes her neck forward a bit and abruptly decides, “Let’s go say hi!”

She does not care about these celebrities who never worked a day in their lives. “Are you crazy? I’m not going to push my way through just to meet a couple of billionaire playboys who happen to have tons of money.” There are more pressing concerns than meeting party boys, such as trying to have a bit of fun on her first night out in months (even though she initially didn't want to go). And honestly, Felicity doesn’t understand the appeal.

She’s about to say another scathing remark when Laurel unexpectedly appears, wrapping both arms around Felicity. “What’s the holdup?” Laurel’s cheeks are flushed from drinking and dancing, and now that she’s being unnaturally touchy-feely it must mean she’s had a few to drink.

McKenna comes from behind and stands next to Felicity. “Yeah, where are the drinks?”

“There’s a holdup because Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn are here, and Jessica wants to say hi,” Felicity explains.

Both McKenna and Laurel’s eyes go round. “We should definitely speak to them – I haven’t seen Oliver in five years. He was always very nice to me when he would visit QC,” McKenna casually mentions.

Three pairs of eyes are suddenly fixated on her and she fidgets under their glances. McKenna never told Felicity she met him. “What? I’ve been working at QC for seven years. I was bound to talk to him at some point.” 

Suddenly determined, Laurel hooks an arm around Felicity’s and Jessica’s, and tips her head a little up. “We’re going to go meet them.”

“I’m right with you,” McKenna pipes.

Sensing her fight is futile, Felicity sighs and motions for Laurel to lead the way. Her friend jumps a little, and everyone – minus Felicity – excitedly walk towards the boys. There’s a small hint of nervousness getting to Felicity; she doesn’t have social anxiety, but her unfiltered mouth often lands her in hot water.

The closer they arrive the more they realize it’s impossible to get within a ten-foot radius. Needless to say Felicity’s relieved and she not so subtly suggests, “Maybe we should head back?”

“You are so transparent,” Jessica jokingly responds. She flips her ebony hair and breathes deeply, preparing herself for the big introduction. “We have to go. This is the one and only time we’ll ever meet them, and besides, between the four of us they’re bound to be interested in at least, well, me.”

McKenna snorts. “Presumptuous much?” Laurel laughs and Felicity can’t help but smile widely. “Let me introduce you three since I already know Oliver.”

“Lead the way, Your Highness." Laurel and Jessica snicker but McKenna chooses to ignore it, and instead confidently takes them to Oliver and Tommy.  The closer they get the more glamorous everyone seems, and Felicity feels uncomfortable surrounded by wealth and arrogance. They are at an upscale club but she didn’t expect people to take it so seriously. Her friends, however, don’t seem to mind at all.

Soon enough they’ve gotten near to where there’s a half-formed line to meet the guys. Halting her steps, McKenna motions for the girls to stay back and wait for a moment. There are only a couple of people blocking their way, but Felicity can’t pretend she doesn’t notice two very handsome men smiling and laughing. An abrupt thought crosses her mind: Oliver is, in some way, her boss. Wouldn’t this be unprofessional?

Panic hits her, and without thinking she spins and worriedly tells Laurel, “This isn’t a good idea – I work for Oliver’s company! Meeting him at a club is unprofessional!” She glances back and thankfully sees the men are still occupied. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Laurel takes a step forward and crowds Felicity, inadvertently pushing her towards Oliver and Tommy. “If you make a good impression he might mention you to a senior manager and get you a higher paying job.”

“I don’t need Oliver Queen, resident idiot and self-proclaimed panty dropper, to help me get a job." Felicity opens her mouth to say something else when Laurel mouths her to shut up, grabs her shoulders and spins her right back around, putting Felicity face to face with the man she just insulted.

Perfect.

She’s not sure if he heard anything she said. Nonetheless, her skin erupts in flames and Felicity finds herself unable to concentrate, but McKenna side-eyes Felicity, silently telling her she heard everything. Guilt crashes onto her and all she wants to do is run away. God she could be extremely careless. If she was worried about meeting Oliver in an unprofessional environment, then she should definitely be worried about losing her job. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath.

“Mm hmm,” Laurel whispers. 

As Felicity nervously concentrates on anything besides the two men in front of her, she hears McKenna shyly ask, “Oliver?”

Still focusing on the ground, Felicity’s completely unprepared for a booming and cheerful voice. “McKenna? I can’t believe it!”

Felicity’s gaze snaps up and focuses on McKenna, her friend, hugging Oliver Queen.  When they pull back Oliver beams at McKenna, and she finds herself zeroing in on their absurd situation and Oliver Queen.

He’s good-looking – perhaps more than that, but she’s not willing to admit it. The suit Oliver’s wearing is pitch black but fitted immaculately on him. His stance screams confidence and arrogance, and Felicity finds herself marginally irritated. He’s got a small amount of stubble peppering his very defined jawline, and his cerulean eyes, blaze with intensity. For a moment Felicity thinks he’s not the vapid man he’s reputed to be.

“I was worried you were one of my exes for a second!”

Nope, he’s still as idiotic as he always was. 

McKenna laughs and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. Taking quick peeks at Jessica and Laurel, she sees Jessica trying her hardest not to faint, while Laurel calmly observes the scene unfolding despite the amount of drinks she’s had. If I could take a page from Laurel’s How Not to Make a Fool Out of Myself handbook, that would be fantastic.

Standing on Oliver’s right is Tommy; he’s got the same charm as Oliver does, but he looks much more casual and friendly. His hair is a deep shade of brown, his baby blue eyes glimmering under the artificial light. He’s definitely the funny, but less famous, of the two. It’s obvious Tommy looks up to Oliver, but at this very moment he’s staring at Laurel as if she fell from heaven.

“How’ve you been?” McKenna inquires.

“Good, excellent,” Oliver replies enthusiastically. “I’m having a some trouble getting used to American ways after spending time overseas.” His eyes sweep over their little group and he asks, “Who are your friends?”

“Oh, right – that’s Jessica,” McKenna starts off as she points around the group, “Laurel and Felicity.”

“Nice to meet you.” Oliver nods in acknowledgement instead of shaking hands, and as he does so his eyes touch on each person’s face in turn. For a second Felicity forgets about the insult she blurted out, but once she does she blushes immediately. She still has no idea if he heard her insult, so she prays he didn’t hear anything, but now that her face is turning in to a tomato she knows she’s attracting the wrong kind of attention. Oliver Queen might think she’s in love with him, which is definitely not the case. 

Tommy is the first to extend his hand out and says, “I’m Tommy, by the way.” He shakes Jessica’s hand first, then McKenna’s, and when it’s Laurel’s turn he beams shyly.  It’s kind of cute how nervous he is to simply shake Laurel’s hand, but her best friend – completely unperturbed – returns the gesture without a single afterthought.

Once he reaches Felicity she grins and says, “Nice to meet you, Tommy.” He looks pleased with her response, and she can’t help but want to give him a hug. He seems sweet.

“How was Hong Kong and Moscow?” McKenna asks. “I’m happy you’re back, Oliver. Star City hasn’t been the same since you’ve left."

Oliver leans forward. “Thank you.” He fidgets with his glass and continues. “It was . . . different, but I’m glad to be reunited with my partner in crime,” Oliver says while clapping a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and shaking him. They laugh simultaneously and a little bit of Tommy’s drink spills from the enthusiastic gesture.

Felicity’s about to come up with a lame excuse to leave – this is turning out to be exceptionally boring – but Jessica livens it up a bit and asks, “So you’re not here to become CFO?”

She can’t help but snort loudly; Oliver gives her a quick and puzzled look before he returns his attention back to Jessica. Leave it to Jessica to bluntly ask someone she just met if the tabloid rumors are true. “Uh,” he begins, “I – well, it is my family’s company, so . . .”

In a strange turn of events, Jessica is the one who made the conversation go into awkward territory, not Felicity. She’s pleasantly surprised and proud of herself for not screwing things up. And, it seems as if she’s incredibly lucky tonight, considering that Oliver has yet to mention her outburst.

“God, Jessica,” Laurel says. “That’s a corporate lawyer talking over there,” she explains to Tommy and Oliver as she attempts to clean up Jessica’s faux pas. Jessica simply shrugs and idly looks around.

“What about you?” Tommy asks Laurel. He’s entirely concentrated on her, something Felicity finds incredibly charming, and for a split moment she can see the two of them being head over heels about one another.

Laurel takes a deep breath. Felicity can almost hear her thoughts, and she knows Laurel’s still sensitive about not getting a job yet. “I’m . . . in the process of searching."

Tommy’s eyes pop and he excitedly offers, “Oh, my father’s company is –“

“Don’t even bother,” Jessica cuts in. “She’s not into the sneaky and slimy world of corporations.”

In an instant Tommy’s face falls, but he recovers quickly. “Yep. Corporate . . . level stuff is . . .” He exhales and makes a hand movement akin to an explosion, indicating that corporate stuff is indeed stuff.

“Basically, he doesn’t know how to tell you he knows shit about law, except on how to avoid it,” Oliver cuts in.

Tommy opens his mouth in protest. “Dude." Felicity quickly glances at Laurel and sees her crack a smile. 

“Well Oliver, Felicity actually works at QC as an IT consultant,” McKenna supplies. She beams at Felicity, almost as proud as a mother and adds, “She’s one of the brightest consultants at your company.”

A deep flush creeps up on Felicity’s face. She doesn’t like to brag about her talents, mainly because people didn’t find it interesting, and she would rather let her work speak for itself. It’s not that people didn’t appreciate it, but they had a difficult time reaching the same level of enthusiasm as Felicity. It makes her self-conscious for some reason, and she chooses not to speak about it to those who wouldn’t understand how much it means to her. 

“Oh” is all Oliver says. Once again he gives a polite nod and Felicity can practically feel his disinterest. “Cool. What are you working on right now?” 

Felicity gathers whatever strength she has left to smile – she can’t help it. She’s aware she’s judging him far more than anyone else she’s ever judged, but he has been more attentive than she expected Oliver to be. Although she does not want anyone, especially Oliver Queen, to advance her career for her, Felicity can see he’s serious about his company. And while she doesn’t plan on seeing him again – employee or not – she is proud of her work.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity begins, “I can’t really get into the semantics, but we’re trying to create a better and safer credit system for retailers. You know, so millions of people don’t get their credit card information hacked.” Briefly she looks around and sees everyone somewhat absorbed in what she has to say.

Now standing a little straighter, Felicity contines, “It’s all very complicated, and the amount of money that’ll go into making a two centimeter chip will be absolutely astonishing. Besides, I have to create coding that’s impossible to break in the world of sophisticated hacking, but sometimes just for fun I’ll hack into the codes my team created, and when I do break it we have to redo it. Not that I hack for fun – I could do it, but I don’t. I definitely don’t. Especially not at QC.”

It takes her a few seconds to realize that yes, she did indeed ramble off and most likely managed to bore everyone in a minute flat. Even worse she admitted she and her team plan on using a lot of money for this project, something Oliver’s probably not excited about, and she fessed up to hacking. Anxiety hits her, and she suddenly wants to bolt out of there for making a fool out of herself. No one wanted to hear what she was doing at work, “Sorry,” she squeaks.

Much to her surprise, however, there’s a small smile on nearly everyone’s faces – even Oliver’s. She’s not sure if it’s from genuine interest or they’re simply trying not to hurt her feelings. Regardless, Felicity feels the need to apologize once more, but before she can Tommy cuts her off. “That’s a really cool thing you’re doing, Felicity. I just hope Oliver has enough money to give you all the funding you need,” he jokes.

A chuckle emanates from everyone’s lips except for Oliver’s; he’s too busy glaring at Tommy. To his credit he keeps quiet, but his eyes flicker around. He’s probably bored out of his mind.

Thankfully McKenna tries to quickly change the subject. “For what it’s worth, Felicity is excellent at her job. But she does have a knack for eating all the ice cream and denying she had any part in it.”

“That’s it, I’m going to get a drink,” Felicity says amidst a sea of laughter. Not wanting to appear rude, she halts her steps and smiles widely at Tommy and Oliver. “It was very nice meeting you. And I would never waste your billions of dollars,” Felicity assures Oliver. Realizing she’s making the situation a thousand times worse, Felicity immediately spins on her heels and doesn’t bother to wait for a response – she has to get out of here.

She practically bolts over to the bar,and once she gets there her midsection collides with the counter. Rubbing her hip, she takes a peek over to her group and sees Laurel chatting with Tommy, while McKenna is engaged in a conversation with Oliver. Jessica, of course, is nowhere to be found. Crisis averted – somewhat.

“Bad night?” When Felicity glances up she sees a cute bartender watching her carefully, an amused expression on his face.

Shrugging, Felicity says, “More like I’ve embarrassed myself to the nth degree.” She leans against the counter and smiles at him. “I tend to have that problem.”

The bartender laughs a little and starts rummaging around. “For what it’s worth, you and your group of friends have been talking to the celebrities much longer than anyone else. At least your embarrassment managed to hold Oliver Queen’s attention."

“Well, my goal in life is not to gain Oliver’s attention, but I guess this means I won’t be seeing him anytime soon,” Felicity sighs. “Even if I work at Queen Consolidated.”

The bartender stops making a drink and hands it to Felicity. It’s a gin and tonic, something she didn’t even want, but she supposes it’s something she needs. “It’s on the house,” the guy says. He winks before leaving off to take care of other customers.

She takes a sweet sip and lets the alcohol burn her throat, but she welcomes the feeling. Not wanting to dance, Felicity heads back the booth they inhabited earlier, but upon reaching there she finds it occupied by another group of friends even though they already reserved it. Rolling her eyes and feeling tired, Felicity searches for another place to sit down but with no avail. Finally, she pathetically resorts to leaning against a wall underneath a set of stairs leading up to the lounge. It does, however, give her a great view of the club; in a minute flat she spots Jessica dancing exceptionally provocatively with another man, and McKenna is occupied with a man as well. 

As Felicity works on her drink she spots Tommy making his way over to her. She automatically panics and wonders why he would even bother to talk to her. Step by step he comes closer, and Felicity seriously debates on running in any direction so she can avoid small talk. In fact, she wonders why he’s even coming here. I guess it has to do with Laurel.

Just as it looks like he’s making a direct beeline for her, Tommy surprises her and goes in a completely different direction. When Felicity finally stops panicking and follows Tommy with her eyes, she sees him by the stairs talking to someone. And, as luck would have it, to Oliver.

Felicity’s shrouded in darkness and she’s safely tucked beneath the stairs, but she has a good visual on the boys. Stepping a bit closer, Felicity attempts to zero in on their conversation, because she’s particularly nosey and particularly bored.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asks Oliver. His friend is already halfway up the stairs, but Oliver goes back down to converse with Tommy.

“Needed a breather. Besides, the owner of this club has a very expensive bottle of champagne and some really hot models,” Oliver says as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Join me!”

Tommy laughs and glances behind him for a moment. “You haven’t changed a bit."

“What's there to change?” Felicity’s mouth turns in disgust and she wonders why she’s even listening. Ugh.

“Yeah, I got that. I . . . think I’m going to stay back for now." Tommy shoves his hands in his pockets and waits for Oliver’s approval for some reason.

It takes a couple of seconds for Oliver to understand why he’s staying back, but once he does a grin forms on his lips. “It’s because of the lawyer, right?”

“Well, the unemployed lawyer,” Tommy clarifies. “She’s smart and really passionate, although she probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

“Also really hot.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a plus.” They giggle like children and Felicity rolls her eyes so hard they start to hurt. She hopes Tommy doesn’t see Laurel as a toy, because that’s the last thing Laurel needs in her life. But, if Laurel didn’t like Tommy she definitely would’ve let him know. Perhaps he’s the better guy between the two.

“Hey, why didn’t you talk to the other girls? They seem nice and interesting,” Tommy suggests. He’s relaxed now, but it’s obvious he’s anxious to get back to Laurel.

Felicity can see Oliver shake his head before saying, “Nah, not interested.”

Tommy frowns. “Not even the other lawyer? What about McKenna?”

“McKenna? No way. She’s nice and all, but we’re casual friends. And the lawyer spends too much time reading tabloids.”

“Right. Wait, what about the blonde? The one that works at QC?” 

Talk about unthinkable: Felicity and Oliver? What a colossal disaster. Felicity’s extremely close to gagging at the mere thought of them. There’s no way in hell she would ever be with him, let alone even entertain the thought of it.

It seems Oliver has the same sentiment as her until he says, “Too smart and nerdy. She’s not really my type. And she talks too much.”

He said what?

If Felicity weren’t currently in incognito mode, then she certainly would’ve gasped loudly. Too smart and too nerdy? It’s an issue for Oliver? She’s not offended that Oliver doesn’t thinks she’s attractive, but if Oliver finds intelligence a nuisance, then it’s a wonderful thing he doesn’t like her. And, if it’s how he prefers his women, he has whatever coming to him. 

Despite spending five years away, Oliver Queen is still the same brat he always seemed to be. She just – she can’t wrap her head around the fact that Oliver has a problem with smart women. It’s absolutely all right for him to search for a decent lay without giving it a second thought, but to completely dismiss a woman because she passed Algebra and he didn’t? What a demeaning thought. She’s had enough of him.

Annoyed, Felicity leaves her safe haven now that it’s been spoiled by Oliver’s comments. As she walks away, she realizes Oliver Queen is still a vapid and loathsome boy who does not deserve the CFO position at QC. She officially really, really dislikes him.

Felicity takes one final gulp from her drink and moodily thinks What a jackass.

Chapter Text

“How was last night?”

An auburn mane slowly rises from the couch, and when Laurel finally manages to raise her head and peek at Felicity, she most definitely can’t restrain the bubble of laughter waiting to explode. Laurel is a complete and utter mess with her makeup smeared in various different ways, her orange dress lopsided and hiked up to her waist. Her hair has a life of its own.

 In short, the sight is magnificent.

“Don’t laugh,” Laurel warns, her voice threatening Felicity many hours of torture if she does. In return, Felicity raises a challenging eyebrow and quickly produces her cell phone. Before Laurel realizes what’s happening, Felicity’s already got a decent picture of the sight in front of her, and she laughs when Laurel’s face turns into the biggest scowl she’s ever seen.

Her own stomach is starting to hurt but Laurel looks like an absolute wreck. “I’m not even sorry. I can’t believe Prim and Perfect Laurel looks like a glamorous version of Lindsey Lohan.” Another bubble of laughter comes to the surface – she can’t help but find her comparison absolutely hilarious.

“I don’t even have the strength to be mad,” Laurel groans. She does, however, manage to rest her chin against the back of the sofa. “Did I wake you up when I came in?”

Felicity shakes her head as she heads into the kitchen, preparing to make a cup of coffee. “I was pretty knocked out.” Once Felicity puts the coffee roast in the machine she asks, “What time did you even get back?”

 “Oh God, I don’t even know,” Laurel moans. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that wasted in my entire life.” She sighs and sits up a little straighter, her eyes blinking from the light shining through the window into the living room. “The sun is making me nauseous.”

“Your back is facing the window,” Felicity points out with a roll of her eyes at Laurel’s complaint. “You can’t even see the sun.” The coffee’s aroma is making its presence known, and in a matter of seconds the entire room is permeated with its smell. “At least I made coffee so you don’t have to.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to have it." Laurel exhales loudly and collapses, her body disappearing behind the couch. “Besides, I might have one more round of a vomit marathon coming up.”

“Gross.” Once the coffee is done brewing, Felicity proceeds to pour a cup for herself and one for Laurel. Felicity grabs the bottle of Advil, finishes putting in the appropriate amount of cream and sugar, and carries the coffee back to the living room.

She circles the couch to stand over Laurel’s almost pathetic sight. Clicking her tongue, Felicity sets the mug on the table next to her. “You must’ve had a really good or bad night.

Laurel groans again and throws a hand over her eyes. “Good – I guess – but Tommy parties way too much,” she admits. “I can’t even remember half the night. This is so embarrassing.”

 Felicity takes a sip from her mug and pulls out the Advil from her pocket.

“Here, take this,” she affectionately orders as she tosses the bottle towards Laurel. It lands on her stomach but Laurel’s completely unfazed.

 “What did Tommy Merlyn do to you?” Felicity moves Laurel’s coffee mug and perches herself on the table, watching with a suspicious eye. “Something happened. Did you get laid and not remember it?”

“God, no.” Laurel dismisses the possibility with a wave of her hand, adding, “I wouldn’t let anyone get near me – Tommy Merlyn or not – when I’m that inebriated.” She attempts to sit up again and frowns. “Where’s my phone?”

 Felicity tilts her head with a smile. “You mean the mess you left at the front door?”

When she’d woken that morning she was greeted by Laurel’s shoes, keys, phone and purse littered all over the floor.  She was half-expecting Laurel’s clothes to be there as well, but it seems Drunk Laurel knew how to keep her clothes on.

“Oh. Right.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Felicity reassures her. “It’s about time you got out of your pity party phase,” she teases as she brings Laurel’s cell phone to her.

 In return Laurel rolls her eyes. Once she takes her phone and unlocks it, Laurel’s eyes widen and she gasps. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” Felicity asks urgently. Did someone take a photo of Laurel in her drunken state? If that’s the case, she’ll need to take out her computer so she can start removing any obscene images from wherever they might be. “What is it?”

Laurel, still in shock, fails to reply.

“Laurel!” Felicity snaps her fingers, hoping to get her friend’s attention away from the phone and back to her.

“Oh!” Breaking out of her daze she looked up at Felicity, and gravely says, “I gave Tommy my phone number and he texted me.”

There’s a pregnant pause as Felicity’s breathing returned to its regular rate. “You had me scared for a second! I thought someone took a picture of you with a nip slip or something.” Laurel gives her a death stare, which doesn’t faze Felicity in the least. 

Felicity sits down on the floor next to Laurel and tries to see the text. “Wait – why is this bad?”

Laurel closes her eyes and stifles a yawn. “It’s Tommy Merlyn,” she stresses. “Getting involved with him would mean constant partying and having paparazzi follow me. I don’t think I’m ready to even be exposed to that kind of life.”

Felicity finds herself agreeing -- somewhat -- although for the past couple of years Tommy has slowed down on his partying lifestyle. Maybe Tommy’s changed for the better.

“Besides, he’s not even my type.”

Here we go again, Felicity mutters to herself.

Laurel is smart and beyond pretty, so she’s always had men clamoring over her. Felicity can’t recall a single outing when that didn’t happen, but despite the attention, Laurel tended to play hard to get. No matter how compatible the guy is Laurel will find a reason or a way to let him go.

It’s true she’s had no time for relationships in the past, especially during undergrad and law school. Once Laurel sets her sights on something -- no matter how small the task -- no one can change her mind. Felicity admires her determination, but more often than not her stubbornness to follow through with her decisions causes her to stress out, and Felicity finds herself unable to help in those situations. Having someone other than Felicity to lean on would be beneficial for Laurel; she knows her friend needs someone who can provide her comfort in ways Felicity can’t.

For now, all Felicity can do is try her best to convince Laurel it’s time to have a little fun.

In Tommy’s case things look a little different. Last night he was clearly attentive and nervous around Laurel; if he was a regular playboy then he certainly wouldn’t have spent so much time around her, let alone text her the morning after. Sighing, Felicity decides she ought to tell Laurel the truth about Tommy.

 “I don’t think he’s the guy you think he is.”  She takes an ostentatious sip of coffee to make Laurel wait. “In fact, I have evidence.”

 Laurel immediately perks up, but clearly thinks Felicity is bluffing. “Yeah?”

 “Yep.”

“Do tell,” Laurel mocks as she slowly sits up. She finally takes her mug and sips her coffee, her raccoon eyes sizing Felicity up.

“I overheard a conversation between Tommy and Oliver. When Oliver asked Tommy to come upstairs and hang out with models, Tommy declined.” Felicity watches Laurel carefully and doesn’t miss her friend’s interest pique. 

After a second, Laurel shrugs, indifferent. “He only declined because I was practically wasted and still wasn’t throwing myself at him. He probably wanted to see how long it would take before I decided to sleep with him.” She takes another sip from her mug and pretends this information doesn’t affect her, but Felicity knows better.

“Okay, well, not only did Tommy decline an offer at a nightclub filled with booze and debauchery, he even said – and I quote – ‘She’s smart and passionate’ and he was talking about you instead his regular bimbos,” Felicity says. “Not to mention you got home safe despite being super drunk,” she adds an afterthought.

Confused and stuck in her thoughts, Laurel replies with a quiet “Oh” as she stares at her cup. Felicity starts getting her hopes up, thinking Laurel might acquiesce and go on a date with Tommy, but Laurel looks up at her and shrugs. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, come on.” Felicity places her mug beside her and crosses her arms. “Seriously, what’s the worse that could happen?”

“I’d get in a relationship with Tommy?”

That’s it – Felicity’s had enough. “Laurel,” she groans, “I’m not suggesting you two get married, but give the guy a chance – give yourself a chance.” Halting her thoughts and recalling the conversation between Oliver and Tommy, Felicity absentmindedly says, “I think he’s really different than what we’ve seen. I just think . . . I think both of you could benefit from each other.”

Come to think of it, she doesn’t doubt that Laurel could make Tommy a better person, while Tommy could make Laurel get out of her very small box. Tommy is sweet and good-looking, not to mention fun. It’s time Laurel breathes some fresh air and lives a little.

“Listen,” Felicity begins as she leans forward. “I think you’re being judgmental for someone who’s proved to be the complete opposite of what you think of him to be. Give it a chance.”

Toying with a strand of her hair, Laurel focuses on the ground, her face turning contemplative. “It’s -- I haven’t been in a relationship in forever, Felicity.” Exhaling loudly and leaning against the couch, Laurel sighs. “I don’t think I’m ready for a commitment, if at all. Mentally and emotionally.” She stares off for a moment, then focuses back on the ground. “I’m so used to being by myself . . . It’s -- it’s easier, you know?”

“Oh. That’s . . .” Searching for the right term, Felicity takes another sip from her mug and finally says, “understandable.”  Sitting a little straighter on the table, Felicity watches Laurel carefully; she’s surprised by Laurel’s admission and proud of her for being honest. Felicity doesn’t know much of how long-term relationships work, but she knows getting back in the game can be difficult. Laurel’s always had a bit of an independent streak to her, and giving oneself to another person is frightening.

Regardless, Felicity knows it in her bones that Laurel deserves some down time. She’s always been the second mother to her family and friends, and incredibly selfless when it comes to being present for everyone else. Sure, she and Laurel have been extremely close friends and their friendship knows no bounds, but once more, Felicity can only be there for her in so many ways. They’ve grown, as well as their needs. Perhaps it’s time to admit it to themselves.

Felicity takes a deep breath and smiles softly. “Hey,” she starts off gently. Laurel glances up at Felicity, her black rimmed eyes soulfully waiting for Felicity to finish her thought. “You deserve someone who can make you laugh, hug you when you randomly need one, buy you snacks all because you briefly mentioned it in passing, and have someone who’s willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. I’m not saying Tommy is the one, but I think you should get a chance to indulge yourself, even if it’s for a moment.”

Comfortable silence envelops their living room as Laurel digests what Felicity said. Tapping her finger on the coffee mug, Laurel chews her bottom lip for a second and slowly says, “Fine. I’ll text him once I take a shower.”

Felicity claps excitedly. “You two are going to be so cute!” Truth be told, she’s happy for Laurel – the fact that her best friend is even considering the thought of dating someone is a rather big deal. She simply wants Laurel to have fun.  

“Hey, I’m only texting him. I am not agreeing to a date.”

“Yeah,” Felicity agrees, although she has a feeling one coffee shop meeting will turn into several more. “Anyway, what did his text say?”

 “Oh, he just asked me if I got home safe, and a couple of other things.” Glancing up at Felicity, her eyes suddenly go round and soft, and she asks, “What should I text back?”

“You’re asking me for advice?” Laurel laughs lowly and dangles her phone, waiting for Felicity to say something. “Did you at least say you safely passed out on the couch?” Felicity jokes.

“Yes,” Laurel replies. “Then he told me to drink tons of water, as if I already didn’t know.” Laurel rolls her eyes to show Felicity Tommy’s text annoys her, even though her lips slowly tug upwards from a smile she desperately tries to suppress it.

“Aw, he’s trying to get the conversation started. If he asks if you’re available for a quick café chat, you say yes.”

Laurel puts up her hand to stop what she is sure will be a well-meaning, if unnecessary litany of advice. “I’m just texting him.” A smile creeps up on Laurel’s lips as she grabs onto her phone. She begins to type when her movements are abruptly halted and she looks off in the distance. “Um . . .”

“Um what?” Now Felicity’s wondering if Tommy texted her something risqué or childish. If he did, then Felicity’s been proven wrong, and Laurel’s going to gloat for days to come.

Laurel doesn’t respond; instead, she stands up with such speed that her knees knock against Felicity’s, crushing their kneecaps together with unimaginable force. “Ow!” Felicity yells. Her knees sting from the onslaught, and she doubts she’ll be able to stand up now.

Before Felicity can snap at Laurel, her hung over friend is already heading straight to the bathroom, and Felicity’s this close to yelling at her when Laurel beings to gag horribly. Yikes; she wasn’t kidding when she said she might have to puke. When her gagging echoes through their apartment, Felicity all but forgives her as she gets up and starts to make ginger and cinnamon tea for the vomiting.

It takes a while to get back in the swing of things.

It’s Sunday afternoon and Felicity scrambles to finish her paperwork before the evening begins. She doesn’t have much time to watch shows on an actual TV, so she continuously catches up in various ways. However tonight, when her favorite show is airing, she would do anything to watch it live. 

Today is also the day of Laurel and Tommy’s fated coffee shop date and it’s been a good two hours since Laurel left. Felicity had promised herself she wouldn’t hack into Laurel’s phone so she could listen to their conversation, which would be a violation of trust, not to mention completely unnecessary since she can just wait and find out old-fashioned way.

Seeing Laurel get dressed and head out the door made Felicity extremely happy. Laurel’s spent far too many days lounging around and receiving rejection after rejection from law firms. Unlike Laurel, Felicity has had it easier -- graduating from MIT with top honors means getting jobs right after college. She knows the rate at which lawyers get hired pales compared to those who major in IT, but she hopes Laurel will be feeling less disheartened once she starts hanging out with Tommy. Sometimes forgetting how to achieve life goals will inadvertently lead someone to it.

Felicity turns her attention back to her work, and it isn’t until 45 minutes later when the door’s lock starts to jingle. Anticipating what Laurel has to say about the date, Felicity drops what she’s doing and patiently waits on the couch. Finally, the door opens and Laurel walks in, her face glowing and a shy smile forming on her lips. She’s happy, Felicity notes with a smile of her own.

“Hey there, Miss Coffee Shop Date girl,” Felicity teases. She watches Laurel smile once more and take off her shoes. “Give me the deets: what he wore, if he paid, what you ordered, and even the songs playing at the shop." Laurel doesn’t respond, and instead comes over to the couch, flopping right next to Felicity. Laurel’s positively glowing, and Felicity can’t suppress the amount of happiness she’s feeling. “So?”

Laurel rubs her palms against her jeans and takes a deep breath. “It was good. Better, even,” she adds as an afterthought. Resting her chin in her hand she says, “I . . . wouldn’t mind an actual date.”

Excitedly, Felicity turns and completely faces Laurel, crossing her legs pretzel style on the couch. “Laurel! That’s amazing!”

Laurel laughs a bit and she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, blushing at whatever thought is crossing her mind. Felicity’s entranced by Laurel’s change in mood, behavior, and overall demeanor. This is . . . something. “Yeah, it kind of is.”

“What did you two talk about? Did he invite you to a super fancy yacht party?” Felicity inquires. “Because if that’s the case, we need to go dress shopping, and I’ll do our hair.” She inhales another bout of oxygen and continues, “I think black really suits you ever since you got lighter highlights. As for me, I haven’t had a chance to wear the green –“

“Felicity!”

She innocently looks at Laurel. “Yeah?”

“It’s not happening,” Laurel deadpans. “We talked. That’s it." Taking a deep breath she admits, “But I would like to go to a yacht party.”

“I knew it!” They both laugh and Felicity finds herself staring at Laurel. Her skin’s got a bit of color and her hair is shining, while her lips are refusing to go back down to the perpetual frown she’d adopted in the past few months. “Laurel, this is really great news,” she adds sincerely. “Whatever happens with Tommy . . . Well, I hope he gives you a great time.”

Chuckling once more, Laurel shrugs. “Maybe I should get Tommy to hook you up with Oliver. We’ll be the two BFFs dating extremely rich BFFs.”

Whatever happy thoughts and feelings running through Felicity’s veins vanish into thin air. After Oliver’s disparaging comments at the club, she’s got nothing but disgust for him. “No. No . . . fucking way.”

“Oh, come on!” Laurel rolls her eyes. “Don’t forget, you were the one who pushed me to meet Tommy, and here I am today having successfully gone on a date with Tommy Merlyn and considering another one.” She smirks and curiously asks, “Is it because he’s rich?”

Felicity shakes her head and shifts her position on the couch. “It’s not that. Let’s just say I heard Oliver Queen say he’s not interested in smart women. And he said I talk too much.” As the conversation replays out in her head, Felicity’s skin starts to burn from annoyance and anger. She’s frustrated with herself; she should have left her hiding place as soon as he opened his mouth. Felicity wasted two minutes of her life on that man, and she intends on spending no more.

Laurel looks apprehensively at Felicity, but when she realizes her friend is telling the truth, she can’t help but burst out, “You have got to be kidding me!”  

“Nope. It doesn’t surprise me. He was and always will be a frat boy, and he’s definitely kept up with his playboy charade up since he got back.” Wanting to forget and move on from Oliver’s thoughtless comments, Felicity says, “It doesn’t bother me. But if I have to spend another minute with him, I’m going to kill myself. Or him.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“I would.”

They laugh simultaneously, and when Laurel goes on to talk about the rest of her date, Felicity carefully watches Laurel and mentally notes her each and every smile. It makes Felicity bubbly on the inside, and as the night continues on she finds herself wishing for moments like these. Life is too short to let reality prevent anyone from achieving any bit of happiness.  

A couple of weeks later as the weather gets warmer, Felicity finds herself wanting another break. Work has been tiresome, and to make matters worse auditors have started to trickle back into the office, bothering Felicity to the utmost degree. She’s already extremely stressed out by her project and its constant issues; the last thing she needs is another problem to deal with.

After successfully lashing out at an auditor, Felicity saunters through the IT department’s hallway and heads straight to the break room. If there’s one thing she absolutely detests, it’s having an auditor breathe down her neck and preventing her from working. She respects the work they do, but the amount of pressure she faces is immeasurable. And it’s not even the end of the fiscal year yet.

Exhaling loudly, Felicity rakes her fingers through her hair – she curled it today instead of putting it up – and focuses on getting to her destination. She’s so engrossed in her thoughts that she nearly bumps into Walter Steele, CEO of Queen Consolidated, standing in the middle of the hallway in his full glory.

“M-Mr. Steele,” she stammers. She’s completely caught off guard, not to mention it’s a very, very rare occurrence for the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company to visit the IT department. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Mr. Steele smiles at her obvious discomfort, and she finds herself wanting to hide in her office. He is incredibly tall and exceptionally handsome, and even though he’s CEO with a gentle demeanor the very sight of him sets her on edge.

She’s known Walter for a while now; he was the first person to actively pursue Felicity’s talents right when she graduated college. Ever since he took over the company QC has been doing better than ever, profits are flowing in, and if it weren’t for his good leadership Felicity wouldn’t have the money to continue with her research. When Felicity was hired he was CFO at the time when Robert Queen was alive, but he had successfully taken care of the company and, well, Robert’s widowed wife.

“Ah, Felicity,” he booms. His English accent rolls off his tongue, smooth as fresh caramel, and she gulps. Even if he is nice and not at all imposing, he’s still her boss. “I was simply taking Oliver on a tour of the company."

Kill me now.

Sure enough, Oliver appears from behind Walter, and her mood – which was currently on a high after dealing with the auditor – turns sour in an instant. She can’t muster the strength to hate him at this very moment, but she truly wishes he could stay away from her sight. Felicity has no time for lazy rich boys.

He has the gall to smile at her, and as a gut reaction Felicity’s face morphs into one of displeasure. In a moment’s notice Oliver’s face falls, and it takes a good two seconds for her to realize how big of a mistake she’s made.

In any other occasion Felicity wouldn’t have cared how she reacted to Oliver, but Walter Steele is someone she respects. Oliver is his stepson and heir to the company, and she all but voiced her absolute disgust for Oliver.

“Yes. Hi,” Felicity says as she attempts to clean up her faux pas. Briefly, she glances over at Oliver, and notices he’s schooled his features and staring at her blankly. “Is this the last stop before you head upstairs, Mr. Steele?” Realizing she purposely left out Oliver, she adds as an afterthought, “Mr. Queen?”

“Yes actually,” Walter says, unperturbed by her behavior. “But Oliver here is having some computer issues, and I suggested we talk to QC’s finest researcher." He clasps his hands behind his back, smiles and leans forward. “Would you be willing to take a look at it?”

Felicity purses her lips and glances between the two men, and she finally notices a black Lenovo nestled in-between Oliver’s chest and arm. “Definitely,” she says slowly once she realizes there will be no snack time for her. “Follow me,” she offers as she attempts to keep her voice from sounding displeased by the turn of events. She’s afraid she’s failing in masking her dislike for Oliver, but once he smiles marginally she quietly sighs in relief; being fake isn’t her strong suit.

She starts to turn back around towards her office when Walter stops her. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to head back up to the office.” Clasping a hand on Oliver’s shoulder he adds, “See you at dinner.”

Oliver grins and nods at his stepfather. “I’ll try to get there on time.”

Walter laughs as he exists the department, leaving Felicity with Oliver. She’s dreading this entire conversation, and when she looks over to the side, some of her co-workers are staring at her. “Well, ready to get your computer fixed?” Her glasses fall a little, and since Oliver is so tall she’s unable to see him clearly. This is a plus.

“Definitely." All Felicity can do is smile weakly and turn back around, and when she starts walking towards the main work station a bout of nervousness hit her. Not only is Oliver her almost boss, but he’s also seen her in club attire and already listened to her ramble off in the worst of ways. She’s not sure if she should approach this meeting as if she slightly knows him or doesn’t know him at all. Bringing up their chance meeting would only make things awkward.

She’s extremely conscious of Oliver’s presence behind her, and she has a feeling her short strides are making him walk exceptionally slow. Not wanting to spend another minute with him longer than necessary, Felicity speeds up and doesn’t hesitate to wait for Oliver. The pumps she’s wearing painfully pinch her toes, and her speed walking is only making matters worse.

Gritting her teeth, she doesn’t slow down. The things I do to avoid him.

The IT department maintains a workstation for smaller issues, often pertaining to viruses or other computer problems the company’s employees has. It’s empty right now and Felicity’s beyond thankful. She doesn’t need prying eyes and ears, let alone spend an extra minute with Oliver Queen.

She finds a desk, flops down on the chair, and immediately turns on the computer. She’s pushed her glasses back up and focuses on the computer screen, glad they’ve been updated and working at a fast pace. Felicity hears Oliver slowly and quietly sit down on the chair in front of her and he notes, “You walk fast.”

Only when I don’t want to be around people like you. Ignoring his pretty face, Felicity distractedly replies, “I just don’t want to keep you in the boring part of QC when you have important things to do.” She halts her movements and swallows thickly, unsure of how that sounded. “Because you own the company and all.”

Oliver takes a deep breath and watches her apprehensively. “No,” he says, drawing out the singly syllable word till it sounded more like five. “I don’t own the company per se, but my family does." He smiles a little, and Felicity notices a small amount of bags under his eyes. Must be partying too much.

“But you still own it." The computer finally reboots, and Felicity automatically grabs Oliver’s laptop and begins working without a second thought.

“I . . . guess,” he responds lamely. Felicity glances at him above the rim of her glasses before quickly before resuming her work.

Once she plugs his laptop in and opens it up, she steals a few peeks at Oliver and watches him carefully. He’s dressed in a sharp suit – expensive, no doubt – and sits stoically on the seat in front of her, his eyes darting across the room. She half expected him to be beyond arrogant and sit with his legs spread out, but quite frankly Oliver seems a bit nervous. He’s less chatty compared to their last encounter, but that may be since he’s not under the influence of alcohol. At any rate, she reminds herself Oliver Queen is not someone she wants to spend a single second thinking about, so she returns her attention to the sick computer.

Shortly after an awkward silence follows, and out of nervousness Felicity starts tapping her foot, knowing any moment now she’s going to start speed talking because she has never been able to handle silences. Out of habit she presses her pen in between her lips, something Laurel had suggested to her ages ago and is thankful she is able to remedy a potentially terrible situation, even if just temporarily. Opening her mouth – no matter where she’s at – always proves to be her downfall.

Clearing her throat, Felicity adjusts her glasses and takes a look at Oliver’s computer. “Holy crap,” she whispers under her breath, only to add a dramatic flair when the pen lodged between her lips falls and clatters on the desk.

His laptop is littered with hundreds of tiny viruses, and there’s a particular Trojan that looks as if it’s been designed and modified in the deepest depths of Hell. Most of these look like ones often found on illegal, foreign or high traffic websites not allowed in the States. She shakes her head; it’s going to take a while to delete them. What was he doing to get these viruses?

A strong whiff of cologne fills her nose, and when she glances up she sees Oliver leaning forward, concerned for the welfare of his laptop.  “Is everything alright?” His blue eyes widen and he watches Felicity intensely, gauging her reaction.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Felicity assures him as she tries to brush off the concern. Warily, she glances at Oliver again and smiles for no particular reason. She focused back on the screen and mutters, “I wonder how many porn sites you watched to get these monster viruses.”

Oh no.

Her fingers stop moving and hover over the keyboard, and all other movements, including breathing, freeze. A bucket of flaming embarrassment and fear lands on her, and Felicity is now in a position where she wants to cry, scream and run out of here -- in no particular order. Hesitantly, she looks at Oliver, who has such an ambiguous expression she doesn’t know what to think. Or what he’s thinking.

And so she resorts to doing what she does best: talking.

“I – I didn’t mean to say that,” she begins as the words started to roll off her tongue. She waves her hand and laughs nervously. “I didn’t meant to insinuate you watch porn all day. Not that you would because, you know, you’re Oliver Queen.”

She stops again when she realizes she’s making the situation a thousand times worse. Her head starts to itch from embarrassment and she swallows thickly. Panic hits her, and Felicity desperately scrambles to fix the situation.  “W-What I meant to say is you don’t need porn sites when you’re you and you can get the real thing, but there’s no judgment when it comes to watching online porn. It’s free, so I completely understand the appeal.”

That’s it – she’s done for. Her career is officially finished. She can imagine herself poorly explaining to future employers she made an ass out of herself while she was fixing Oliver Queen’s computer.  Well, I indirectly told QC’s heir to the company he’s a manwhore and watching online porn is perfectly acceptable for Oliver. So that’s why I’m looking for a job.

A sinking resignation hits her, and all she wants to do was hide under her desk until the entire office clears out. Her skin feels as if boiling hot water was thrown on her, and she can almost feel tears threatening to spill over. Taking another deep breath, Felicity reboots her brain and counts backwards from three – a coping mechanism she developed over years of babbling. Adjusting her shirt’s collar and trying her best to regain any sort of confidence left, Felicity hoarsely apologizes, “I – I know you didn’t expect to come here and listen to me . . . say that. I’m sorry.”

She’s afraid if she makes eye contact with Oliver she’ll see an angry and offended face, but to her surprise Oliver’s got a bit of a smirk on his lips, and his eyes shine brightly under the florescent light. Her mouth opens once again to fix what she said, but Oliver gently cuts her off.

“If it makes you feel better, no, it wasn’t porn.” Once again, his lips tug upward – seemingly of their own accord – as he adds, “I was wanting to watch a Chinese drama, but the only way to watch it was to download the episodes. And with it,” he gestures to the laptop, “come monster viruses.”

Relief hits her; she can’t fathom the sheer luck she has sometimes. Felicity’s positive if Walter was still here she would’ve been in big trouble, but seeing Oliver’s known to be the jokester, it actually worked in her favor. At the same time, however, she really did insinuate Oliver sleeps around and watches porn all day. She still can’t believe he’s not angry with her.

“Okay,” she responds hesitantly. “Didn’t know you spoke Chinese." Oddly enough, Oliver’s comments considerably calmed her down, and she’s back to working on the computer, her eyes scanning for another potentially evil virus.

“Mandarin, actually,” Oliver corrects her easily.

“Oh.” Even though she’s a MIT graduate and an accomplished researcher at QC, she suddenly feels ignorant. Since when did Oliver start speaking different languages other than flirting?

Another minute of silence follows, and Felicity does her very best not to open her mouth again. The office is quiet since many of the workers have now left for their lunch break, and right on cue her stomach grumbles loudly. A groan escapes her lips; could this day get any worse? From her peripheral vision, Felicity spots Oliver awkwardly looks around, his fingers slowly rubbing together as he pretends not hear Felicity’s stomach talking.

She ignores him and her stomach, and after a minute she gathers the courage to say, “Aside from the various viruses, there’s nothing too damaging to your laptop.” Shrugging and leaning against the chair, she eyes Oliver. “I’ll have one of the techs fix it up in the next couple of days.”

Oliver nods slowly and presses his lips together while Felicity patiently waits for him to leave. After a moment Oliver suddenly smiles brightly and taps on her desk. “Thank you,” he says gently as he rises from his seat. From Felicity’s position Oliver looks like a giant, his strong and tall body hovering over her petite frame and tiny desk.

Watching him carefully, she wonders if he plans on having her fired, and nods tightly but doesn’t say a word. Oliver smiles once more, but his entire demeanor changes just enough to where he looks as if something is up his sleeve. Before he leaves, he stops at her desk and looks down at her, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “And also, not all of the viruses are from watching shows illegally.” Felicity frowns, unsure of what he means. She almost opens her mouth to ask when he shrugs, as if it’s not a big deal. “Sorry I lied.”

It hits her then: Oliver just admitted to watching porn on the very computer she’d spent fifteen minutes touching. Without another thought Oliver winks and saunters out of the department, his steps echoing off the walls, and Felicity’s back to wanting to kill herself. Disgusted, she wipes her hands on her slacks and shudders.

Having Oliver confess to watching porn isn’t what she had in mind right for her lunch break.

“Felicity, you have no idea how amazing it was! I just – I can’t believe how wonderful it turned out to be,” gushes Laurel. She’s still wearing her black dress and heels from her date with Tommy, and she smiles so wide her gums show. Felicity beams back in return, and she waits for Laurel to say something else. “I actually feel . . . happy.” She looks off into the distance for a moment then focuses back on Felicity, her lips forming into another smile. “I can’t believe I enjoyed a date with Tommy Merlyn.”

It’s eleven at night and Felicity has had an exhausting week. Friday is meant to be her relaxing day, but she had to finish up some documents, and she didn’t get back until nine. By the time she did, Laurel left for her date with Tommy. They’ve spent the last thirty minutes talking about her date and Felicity’s getting tired. Regardless, she’s excited for Laurel and enjoys watching her friend excitedly tell her about her date, and not letting her unemployment prospects dampen her spirits.

Exhaling loudly, Felicity does her very best to stifle a yawn. She succeeds, and grins like a maniac once she notices another smile slowly forming on Laurel’s lips, her eyes shining brightly. “You’ve got it bad,” Felicity jokes. Laurel chuckles and toys with the hem of her dress, her shyness and warmth bringing a bit of lightness in her.

Sighing deeply, Laurel tips her head to the side and thinks aloud, “You’re right – I do.” She wrinkles her nose all of a sudden and abruptly says, “Maybe I shouldn’t be so easily charmed. He’ll think I’m way too available and take advantage of my unemployment situation.”

Felicity groans and rolls her head to release some tension. “Laurel, he already knows you’re available. Being available doesn’t make you look desperate. It just means you two will have more time to hang out.”

“I . . . guess,” Laurel says tentatively after a moment’s thought. “I haven’t had much time to hang out with anybody since undergrad, actually. I think this might be good.”

Relieved and surprised Laurel is admitting to this, Felicity smiles wide. “Yes! Word to the wise: I’m always right." Laurel rolls her eyes in response. “Never underestimate someone who spends an incredible amount of time observing and finding patterns. It becomes very easy to spot the issues.”

“You and your darn patterns,” Laurel jokes. “You know, I used to envy you when you would finish my book of sudoku puzzles in a few hours, but then I would take the book and tell all my friends I did them,” she confesses.

Shocked by Laurel’s admission, Felicity lightly pushes her shoulder. “You did not!” Laurel giggles and Felicity fails to keep her own laughter tucked inside. “At least I know my efforts didn’t go to waste." 

Raising her hand up to her forehead, Laurel salutes Felicity. “It was an honor taking credit for something I didn’t do." Felicity laughs once again before they slip back into a comfortable silence, and her mind -- for once -- isn’t running in circles.

Finally glancing at the clock, Felicity says, “I think it’s time me and my PJs are reunited for the night. I got back from work at nine, after all.”

“Sure, go ahead."

“Okay.” She gets up and nods at Laurel, who’s softly smiling and says, “Try not to wake me up before ten tomorrow. My brain needs a restart.”

“Definitely,” Laurel says quietly, her eyes closing halfway in sleepiness as well -- or perhaps it’s from being utterly content. “I don’t have any plans to get up early either.”

Felicity smiles warmly. “Glad we agree on that.” She’s about to turn around and leave when she suddenly feels the need to say something else, her mouth awkwardly opening and closing as she gathers her thoughts. Facing Laurel and grinning widely, Felicity sincerely says, “I’m really excited for you, Laurel. I hope he gives you every bit of happiness you deserve.”

Laurel laughs heartedly, her eyes shining and her lips forming into another smile. Slowly, Laurel gets off the couch, her heels clacking on the hardwood flooring. As she approaches Felicity, she beams and wraps her arms around her, and Felicity naturally hugs her back. For a split moment Felicity thinks they’re back in college, a time when they weren’t weighted by adult responsibilities. Sighing contentedly, Felicity holds onto Laurel for a moment longer, her collared shirt wrinkling more so when she fiercely clutches onto Laurel. When Laurel pulls back, her face radiates from happiness. “Thanks Felicity. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Felicity quickly squeezes Laurel’s shoulder before heading straight to the bathroom, and oddly enough Felicity finds herself relieved of all things. She doesn’t know why to be exact. Is it simply because she won’t come home everyday to find Laurel moping around? Jeez Louise, Smoak. Try not to be so selfish.

Back in college Felicity was revered for her smarts -- after all, not everyone attends a prestigious university -- but MIT proved to be a challenge for her, a young woman with an impossibly bright mind. Being female in a male-dominated arena is difficult, and although she’s become accustomed to QC’s IT department overflowing with men, she still shudders at her time spent at MIT. Being a woman -- and a woman who is sure of herself -- was an odd sight for her classmates. Meeting Laurel was Felicity’s saving grace; Laurel was the first person to take her seriously as a woman, and more importantly, as a friend. There was no competition with her, and still isn’t. She’s been immensely supportive of Felicity, and has provided her with a second family, love and laughter. Felicity wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Laurel constant support.

She suddenly feels ashamed for being relieved that Laurel’s relationship prospect could benefit Felicity some way. She can only imagine how difficult it must be for Laurel to finally open herself up, and she berates herself for being so childish. Laurel has done an immeasurable amount for Felicity; the least she can do is be there for Laurel as she ventures into new territory.

Brushing those thoughts away, Felicity begins her nightly ritual in the bathroom, and her mind floats over to how different Tommy appears to be in person. Who would have thought Tommy Merlyn could be serious when it comes to relationships?

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for his friend.

Normally on a Saturday, Felicity goes to sleep no later than nine -- working constantly takes a toll on her -- but tonight she’s wide awake as she idly watches TV. Currently, Laurel is on another date with Tommy, and she has a feeling it’ll be a while before she comes back home. Shivering uncontrollably, Felicity snuggles in between numerous blankets, and adjusts her position on the couch, her short legs barely reaching the other end of the sofa.

Grabbing onto the blankets and bringing them closer, Felicity takes out her hand from underneath the blanket and flips the channels, her hand protesting from the lack of warmth. She stops at a couple of news channels and some movies, but nothing really catches her eye. Another few seconds pass of aimless channel surfing when Felicity stops at one of the local stations and sees TMZ playing.

And, as it turns out, the guest of honor appearing on screen is Oliver Queen.

Really? Felicity’s given up at this point; apparently there’s no escaping Oliver no matter where she goes. TMZ is airing paparazzi footage of Oliver leaving a fancy restaurant from last night, and once he comes outside hundreds of flashes go off in a second. He seems unperturbed by the amount of attention, and he continues on his way, his bodyguard ushering him towards a limo. The camera shakes violently and causes Felicity to get slightly dizzy.

Tired of seeing his face and unwilling to endure another bout of dizziness, Felicity nearly changes the channel when a paparazzo loudly and rudely asks Oliver, “Where’s your date? Did she realize she had enough of you?”

The other photographers “Ooh” at the man’s comment and all goes silent for a moment. Come to think of it, Felicity is curious as to why Oliver doesn’t have three woman draped around his arms – it’s a common sight for the world to see. Instead, it’s just him and his bodyguard. How odd.

Oliver stops walking and pauses in front of the cameraman, his blue eyes focusing on the man with such intensity she thinks he might burst. Felicity’s watched and seen Oliver leaving nightclubs looking disheveled and out of it, but this time around Oliver looks in complete control, ready to take the world by a storm. His eyes glimmer under the artificial light, but for once, they’re not glazed over with intoxication. They’re brewing with careful and controlled intensity, and Felicity finds herself paying more attention to the TV than she initially planned.

In a split second, Oliver’s demeanor changes and he smiles phonily, his bright white teeth reflecting and blinding the camera lens. “I told them to wait for me once I finish my meeting,” he responds smoothly, and he winks at the camera before the paparazzo can ask a second question. The rest of the photographers whoop and whistle, and before Oliver ducks inside his car, he waves haughtily as he embarks on another night of debauchery with several other women.

Yuck.

Three weeks have passed in a complete blur, her busy job preventing her from doing something other than sleeping four hours at night and working until she’s about ready to collapse from exhaustion.  In a week’s time she has to head out to Metropolis for a quick consulting job, then come back to Star City to work on another project. She’s getting tired, but she knows all of her hard work will pay off . . . sooner or later.

Currently, she’s eating lunch with McKenna at Big Belly Burger, which is not to far from QC’s building. She’s already plowed through her cheeseburger and swallows it down with a cool soda. The salty fries are begging for her attention and Felicity immediately pops five inside her mouth.

McKenna watches her with a slight amount of confusion and observes, “You must’ve been really hungry.” Her friend is clearly been taking her time to savor the delicious burger and judging Felicity as she does so.

Propping her elbow on the table, Felicity throws another handful of fries in her mouth and shrugs. “Girl’s gotta eat.”

McKenna chuckles and shakes her head. “I second that,” she responds as she raises her soda in agreement. Felicity lifts her cup as well and takes a loud sip, the cold and bubbly drink reminding her taste buds of her college days filled with fast food. “But I have to lay off on the carbs. Except I kind of don’t want to."

Frowning, Felicity asks, “Why?” Gesturing at McKenna’s body she says, “You look incredible the way you are.” In fact, Felicity’s starting to notice McKenna’s been working out a lot lately, and her body has gotten stronger. “Are you planning on getting into MMA or something? Because you can be pretty scary without the extra muscle.”

McKenna laughs heartily. “I actually have . . . something up my sleeve." Her bronze eyes shine from a secret she’s holding back and she adds, “But I kind of don’t want to say anything just in case if it doesn’t work out.” A stray piece of ebony hair lands on her cheek, and she tucks it behind her ear, suddenly shy from her admission. “Does it make sense?”

“Absolutely. Just promise me when it does work out, I’ll be the first to know." Felicity takes another sip from her cup, wondering exactly what McKenna has in store for herself. Whatever it is, Felicity intends to support her all the way through.

“Yes ma’am.” McKenna salutes Felicity and they both laugh. Another couple of seconds of silence follows through until McKenna inquires, “How are the lovebirds, by the way? Has Tommy bought her a brand new Mercedes yet?” She smirks at her comment and puts a couple of fries in her mouth.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Felicity sighs deeply. “Don’t even get me started on those two." Ever since the big date, Laurel has spent every waking minute gushing about Tommy. It’s gotten to the point where it’s all they – correction: Laurel – talk about all the time, and Felicity almost dreads coming home. “I’m glad Laurel’s having fun, but I just – I can’t anymore."  

McKenna giggles. “I feel so bad for you. I know how it feels,” she sympathizes. “When my sister started dating her husband, it was like living in a constant hell-hole filled with putrid rainbows."

“Well, it’s not that I’m not happy for Laurel, but . . .”

Felicity tries to put her thoughts in order. It’s only been almost two months since they’ve met, but Felicity’s getting the feeling Laurel’s withholding some of her feelings. She’s not sure if it’s from fear and not wanting to get hurt in the event Tommy returns to his playboy days, or if she plans on having their relationship simply be a fling. Felicity is known for sticking her nose in places where it shouldn’t be, so she’s been patiently quiet whenever Laurel sorts through her feelings with Felicity.  She wants to be supportive of Laurel’s relationship, but until Laurel decides she needs Felicity to help her figure things out, she’ll stay back and wait.

Shaking her head and wanting to change the topic, she says, “Laurel’s a big girl and maybe this will be a good change for her.”

McKenna smiles widely and raises her cup one more time. “To changes,” she toasts.

Following suit, Felicity lifts her cup and repeats, “To changes.”

“Where’s my tablet?” Felicity asks, panicked. It’s well into the night and she’s hardly packed anything for her trip to Metropolis. Despite her flight leaving at seven in the morning, Felicity – for some unfathomable reason – hasn’t packed at all. She supposes it’s due to the fact she’s staying in the States and not traveling for an international consulting job, but if Felicity’s going to get lazy about something, it should never be this. She’s certainly paying for it now.

“Got it!” Laurel shouts from under the couch. Getting up, she pads over towards Felicity, gingerly hands the tablet and sternly orders, “Don’t you ever lose it.”

Felicity dismissively nods her head. “Sure. Whatever.” As she rummages around for her other chargers and cords, she thinks aloud, “I need to get my act together.” As of late Felicity’s been slipping on basic things, such as cleaning her room and keeping everything in order. Her job is working her to the bone, and she’s worried this trend will become a regular habit.

Laurel laughs and flops down on the couch. “You’re being dramatic.”

Glaring at her, Felicity pouts, “Why don’t you try to work on four different projects and travel all the time? Then you can tell me if I’m being dramatic or not.” Sensing she may have said that in a rude tone, Felicity admits, “Or . . . You’re right, I am being dramatic.”

Tilting her head to the side, Laurel shrugs. “Well, you do have every reason to be stressed out. Plus our mini vacation had to get cut short.” Eyeing Felicity, she jokingly accuses, “It’s all because of you and your job.”

She sighs and says, “I really do wish I could cancel. I feel bad.” Their vacation plan was never set in stone, but they had decided if Felicity had a free weekend they would definitely do something. Alas, work called and she currently wishes she could go upstate with Laurel, lounging around and tanning with no care in the world.

Placing a hand on her forehead, she begins to rub it as she suddenly feels trapped and fatigued. “I really need a break,” Felicity moans. Her legs buckle underneath her from weariness, and she also collapses on the couch next to Laurel. “Can you kidnap me and we can go to the beach for the next five months?”

“Why of course,” Laurel mocks. Upon seeing Felicity’s less than amused face, she giggles and hesitantly adds, “Well, I was planning on going . . . somewhere.” She tugs on her yoga pants and steadfastly focuses on them, and Felicity has a feeling it has to do with Tommy. “But I’m not sure.”

“Why not? You have unlimited free time, you know. And I won’t be offended if you do go.” 

Laurel takes a deep breath and thinks for a moment. “I just . . . I don’t –“ Frustrated, Laurel runs a hands through her hair and sighs once more, her thoughts refusing to align themselves. “I don’t want to go forward with something if it . . . If it doesn’t work out.”

Ah, now she gets it – Laurel really is afraid of getting hurt. Felicity immediately sympathizes, but from what she’s seen thus far, both Laurel and Tommy are head over heels for each other. Perhaps Laurel’s nervousness stems from her lack of relationships. Diving head-on into a relationship can be scary, but it’s impossible to know what could happen if Laurel’s not willing to try. Each relationship is different, and to hold back simply means it’ll stay in frozen in limbo.

“If you and Tommy weren’t meant to be, then I don’t think you would be feeling like a love struck sixteen year old after every date.” Laurel frowns, and before she can cut Felicity off, she hurriedly adds, “I think going on a mini vacation with Tommy won’t hurt. And if you still feel this way after spending some time with him, then you can break it off.” Adjusting her glasses and glancing at Laurel, Felicity shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Laurel’s silent for a few seconds as her eyes glaze over. Watching her carefully, Felicity contemplates if she should take back what she said. When it comes to Laurel’s personal issues, she prefers Felicity not say anything -- she’s always been the kind to keep her feelings to herself and rarely opens up. Her relationship with Tommy is certainly causing Laurel to confront her own problems and insecurities, but perhaps this will work in her favor.

Seconds pass, and Felicity’s reached the point where she feels she must say something. Swallowing thickly, Felicity nearly opens her mouth when Laurel abruptly glances up, smiles at Felicity and cheerily says, “I’ll think about it.” Standing up, she asks Felicity, “Do you want some mint tea?”

“O-OK,” Felicity hesitantly replies. Warily, she eyes Laurel and finds her change in behavior odd, and wonders if she should comment on it.  I’ll let her be.  Whatever is going on with Laurel, she’ll figure it out. Felicity can’t protect Laurel from getting hurt, but she can help her reach a decision when Laurel needs her input. That’s what friends are for.

As Laurel heads into the kitchen, Felicity suddenly wishes they were back in college when the only thing they had to worry about was not failing their classes. Back then they were a dynamic duo unworried about their futures together, and didn’t let anything – or anyone – get in the way of their wants and desires. They were unstoppable.

Adult life can be so hard sometimes.

Felicity’s never been too keen on big cities. Star City has the right amount of buildings and traffic to make it tolerable, but Metropolis is extremely noisy and smelly. She can hardly walk around the city without gagging at the pollution, and the lack of personal space causes her to flinch even at the slightest movements. Thankfully, she’ll finish her consulting job today, then come Monday she’s back to work in Star City. She misses home.

Currently, she’s heading back to work after grabbing a quick lunch at a nearby diner. Crowds of civilians nearly trample Felicity as she attempts to get back to the office, her anger blossoming when no one even bothers to apologize. Coupled with the Metropolis’s rude citizens and polluted air, Felicity’s having an extremely difficult time walking about in her four inch heels. They’re continuously getting stuck in the cracks and crevices, and she’s had gum get stuck on her shoes more times than she can count.

Focusing on the ground, Felicity treks her way back to work, and she’s so absorbed on not falling over that she doesn’t notice her phone ringing. Halting on the middle of the sidewalk – and subsequently earning a few glares – Felicity takes out her phone and moves to the side. It’s Laurel who’s calling.

“Hey,” she greets as she steps further away from the main sidewalk. Plugging one finger inside her ear to block out the noise, she yells, “What’s up?”

“Hey!” Laurel says. “Are you outside?”

A city bus drives by the moment she’s about to reply, its fumes clogging Felicity’s nostrils and causing her to gag. “Yeah. I just got out of lunch and I’m going back to work.” Hugging her purse tighter and preparing to walk back on the sidewalk, Felicity asks, “Why, is something wrong?”

She hears a faint “No” and resumes her Walk of Torture. “When are you coming back to Star City?”

“Uh,” Felicity begins, her mind and body entirely concentrated on not falling over. “I was going to take the red-eye tonight.” She continues to walk towards her destination, but as she walks some more she sees a homeless man quietly sitting next to a trashcan. As she approaches him, Felicity produces a twenty and promptly puts it in the dingy cup in front of him. “Remember I told you I was coming in late, and that you didn’t need to pick me up because I parked my car at the airport?” The man barely registers her and Felicity proceeds forward.

“Right. Well, I actually went on the vacation I talked about . . . with Tommy. At The Hamptons.” 

Felicity stops dead in her tracks once again, trying to process the information Laurel gave her. “Seriously?” Since when did she and Tommy go on a vacation? And more importantly, since when did Laurel go to The Hamptons? Last she checked, Laurel was hesitant to continue on with her relationship with Tommy – or so she thought.  

Once again, people are giving her dirty looks for stopping on the middle of the sidewalk, so she resumes her movements. “Are you really serious?” A  sudden gust of wind blows Felicity’s carefully curled hair. “When did you leave?” She’s surprised to say the least.

Felicity resumes walking when Laurel finally says, “Yes I’m serious! I pretty much left right after you went to the airport. Tommy asked me to go and I took your advice. Aren’t you proud of me?”

“Definitely!” Come to think of it, this may be the first time Laurel has ever listened to her. She has to relish this moment before it goes away. “You do know I’m going to use that as ammunition ten years from now when you choose not to listen to me,” she gloats. A smile creeps up on her face, and she’s finding Laurel’s relationship to be very beneficial for her friend -- for once, Laurel is taking a leap of faith and enjoying every bit of it.

“Sure, whatever works for you.” Felicity giggles and barely misses bumping into someone. She stops right before she embarrasses herself, and thanks Fate for not making her day any worse. “But I was thinking: since it’s the weekend and The Hamptons is only two hours away from Metropolis, why don’t you join me?”

Apparently, her conversation with Laurel is turning out to be full of surprises. She catches herself from halting in the middle of sidewalk once again, and as Felicity attempts to process the information she can’t help but wonder why Laurel’s asking her to join.

“I – why would I? You’re on vacation with Tommy, not me.” Felicity nears an intersection and waits for the walk signal to turn on, her legs now aching from the fast paced walking and high heels. “And I already bought my plane ticket for tonight. I don’t know how I would tell my supervisor I wasted 250 dollars of QC’s money so I could go to The Hamptons,” she says dubiously. Why in the world is Laurel expecting her to drop everything and join them? Felicity has a job – an important one at that, not to mention she doesn’t want to impose on Tommy and Laurel’s getaway.

“I know,” Laurel admits. “But Tommy knows someone at the airport who can change your flight free of charge. All he has to do is call them."

Felicity’s just about to cross the intersection when Laurel takes a deep breath and prepares for the final blow. Oh no. Anytime Laurel tries to persuade Felicity to do something, Laurel usually has the most convincing final argument and manages sway her every single time. Felicity is immune to Laurel’s counter arguments, mainly because she has a weak excuse ninety percent of the time.  

“We haven’t had time to actually be together, and . . . I really want you to meet Tommy. You’re an important part of my life, and I want you to be a part of this. Please Felicity, I really want you to come.”

Perfect. Just perfect.

Not only did Laurel manage to bring up their failed vacation and lack of bonding time, she’s tapped into Felicity’s very emotional heart and used Tommy as an excuse. Grumbling, Felicity stands back and doesn’t cross the street; her mind spins in circles while her heart pumps loudly. What should she do? The overworked part of her wants to go so she can relax on the beach, and the loyal part of her wants to be there for Laurel. Felicity’s never been to The Hamptons, and she suspects Tommy’s house is large and has a decked out bar. She has been beyond exhausted from work lately, and if Tommy can change her flight with no extra charge . . .

Groaning, Felicity presses the phone against her mouth and reluctantly says, “Fine. You win. But I’m heading straight back to Star City no later than Sunday afternoon.”

Laurel screams so loud that Felicity has to move her phone away from her ear, but as her friend rambles off how excited she is, Felicity can’t resist from smiling the entire three blocks it takes to get back to work. After all, a vacation is still a vacation.

Laurel’s phone shuts off, her left ear still ringing from the city noises that emanated from Felicity’s end. Tossing her phone on the bed and collapsing on top of it, Laurel grins widely and can’t contain her excitement. She kicks her feet in the air for a quick moment, her chest swelling as her mind rapidly plans out their entire weekend. She’s starting to mentally plan their Saturday afternoon when Tommy’s footsteps echo in the hallway, signaling his presence. Laurel props her elbows on the bed and sits up halfway, her legs grazing the floor.

As she waits for him to come, Laurel glances around her room -- it’s cozy and reminds her of a bed and breakfast her family stayed in when they visited New Orleans. The three of the four walls are painted a light beige, but the final wall where her headboard rests is a mix between a baby blue and turquoise color. The decor and furniture is, as Tommy explained, handcrafted from an Amish community somewhere in Pennsylvania, a place Tommy used to visit often with his mother before she passed away. She likes the room, but seeing that she’s spent every night in Tommy’s bed since they’ve arrived, she hasn’t had much time to lounge in here.

“There you are,” Tommy greets, his tall and lean frame covering the doorway. Laurel smiles warmly and drinks in his appearance; he’s changed from his pajamas and opted to wear to a blue collared shirt with khakis. His dark hair is illuminated by the sunlight filtering in from the room’s window, his skin glowing from the warmth. “What did Felicity say?”

“Felicity said yes." Sitting up, Laurel pats the area beside her and motions for Tommy to sit next to her. He complies and the bed dips a little lower, the bed frame creaking slightly. He smells fresh and clean, his cologne lightly filling up her nostrils. It even smells expensive. “Seems like we won’t have the house to ourselves,” she says softly, a hint of flirtation lacing her comment.

Tommy grins and gently undresses her with his eyes. Laurel hadn’t expected to sleep with him on this trip -- in fact, they had agreed to have separate rooms -- but she found herself unable to resist. It’s been a week filled with lazy breakfasts, interesting strolls on the beach, and passionate evenings curled up naked by the fire.  She’s falling head over heels for him, but she doesn’t want to stop. 

“We can stay here after the weekend, you know, once they leave,” Tommy suggests. Leaning forward, his eyes glance down at her lips. “Then I can have you each and every hour of the day, take as long as I want . . .” His voice drops an octave, and Laurel finds herself entranced by his husky promises, her skin slightly heating up. “But for now, I’m going to set up the beer pong table so you and I can duke it out.”

Laurel scoffs and pushes him lightly; he nearly hypnotized her with his sinful words. Tommy laughs before saying, “Hey, I have to speak to Doug ASAP, otherwise he won’t be able to change Felicity’s flight for free. I also have to make a few other calls, so if you want to head out for a bit you’re more than welcome to.”

She contemplates for a moment. “I was going to get some things ready for Felicity, but it can wait.” Yesterday afternoon, she shopped at the grocery store to stock up on food for the weekend, and she bought enough food for at least three people. “Why, did you need something?”

Tommy shakes his head, “Nah. Well, I kind of . . .” He brings up a hand and rakes it through his thick hair, a nervous habit he has. Laurel’s suddenly worried it might be serious. “I kind of invited Oliver over for the weekend?” Apologetically, he looks at her and quickly says, “He’s really exhausted from work. I hope you don’t mi--”

“No, not at all!” A bout of nervousness hits her and a large amount of saliva pools inside her mouth; she swallows thickly and tries her very best to look unaffected by the news. “I’m glad he’s coming. I want to get to know him." It’s the truth, but she can’t exactly tell Tommy that Felicity hates Oliver’s guts when he’s so excited about them hanging out. The possible clusterfuck is making her anxious. “You guys are practically attached to the hip,” Laurel manages to say. “Like Felicity and I.”

Tommy’s eyes widen and he says enthusiastically, “Exactly! They’re our best friends who need a small vacation, and I would like to know Felicity as well.” He smiles warmly as he gets up, and a sinking resignation hits Laurel once she remembers how bad this situation might be. “I should go before I offend anybody by not calling them back.”

“OK,” Laurel squeaks out. Tommy kisses her lightly on her cheek and leaves her room, his heavy footsteps ricocheting off the walls as he heads into the office. For a solid minute, Laurel sits perfectly still on the bed, her mind racing as she tries to find solutions to this problem.

She fails.

Letting out a shaky breath, Laurel woefully looks at her phone and contemplates telling Felicity that Oliver’s coming as well. She knows Felicity’s going to kill her once she finds out, but if she tells her the truth Felicity will never accept another vacation offer by her. This is their one and only chance to have fun . . . And if it means withholding some information, then so be it. Felicity’s threats, which usually include hacking into her bank account and erase Laurel Lance from all the databases in the world, don’t scare her.

All right, maybe just a little.

Chapter Text

The bus lurches to a stop, causing Felicity to grab onto the seat in front of her so tight her knuckles turn white. She barely manages to hold onto her purse before everything falls on the floor. Cursing under her breath, Felicity straightens herself out and glares at the driver, hoping her scathing look will set him on fire.

As Felicity glances out the window, she spots faint lights from stores and houses. It’s well into the evening, and considering it’s off-season, she wonders if anyone else is even going to the Hamptons. The bus is somewhat crowded, but she might be the only person getting off here. Sure enough, when the door opens and Felicity stands, no one else is standing with her. Suddenly feeling awkward, Felicity hurriedly gathers her items and does her best not to hit someone with her large purse.

Gingerly, she steps down and sees the baggage compartment open for her. The driver stands next to it, his disinterest painfully apparent. Clutching her purse, she bends to retrieve her carry-on, her knees cracking as she does so. Thankfully her bag is in the front, but when she goes to lift up her suitcase the wheel gets stuck.  She attempts to yank it loose, and after two more tries she nearly gives up.

“Need a hand?”

Felicity turns and sees Laurel grinning, and she smiles in return. “That would be fantastic.”

Laurel approaches the baggage compartment and lifts up the suitcase blocking her luggage, while Felicity pulls it out as fast as she can. The driver doesn’t spare a second and immediately closes the compartment -- clearly, they’re in a hurry to leave.

Rolling her eyes at the obvious dismissal, Laurel asks, “Ready to go?”

“Definitely.” Felicity steps away from the bus stop and finds the rest of the parking lot is covered in gravel, and not at all the smooth concrete she was expecting. “This is a hazard,” she huffs. Her heels are powerless against the gravel, and her ankles dangerously roll as she takes another step. “That’s it -- I’m going to die here.”

Laughing, Laurel halts her steps and places a hand on her hip. “Trust me, nothing is going to happen. I already have things planned out, and I got your favorite red wine,” she tempts. “It’s going to be the best weekend you’ve ever had.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” With her luggage in tow, Felicity teeters her way out of the parking lot, and when they turn a corner there’s a black car sitting in the parking lot. And it looks exceptionally fancy.

Stepping closer to the car, Felicity whistles. It’s sleek and modern, and all the windows are tinted. “Let me guess, this was lying around in Tommy’s garage and he let you borrow it for the week?”

Laurel, a few steps behind, scoffs and presses on the car’s remote. “No, but he did pick me up with this car. And he lets me use it whenever I need to.” The trunk opens smoothly and she dumps Felicity’s carryon inside. Laurel approaches the front door and unlocks the car, while Felicity circles around to the other side of it and promptly sits inside. Laurel slams the door shut and admits, “It’s a little too fancy for me. But it gets the job done.”

“Fancy doesn’t even cover how expensive this is.” It’s covered in all black leather, it has state of the art technology, and from the looks of it the car seems to be custom made.

Laurel shrugs. “Thank God I don’t own it. I wouldn’t know how to handle driving it.” Winking at Felicity, she puts the key in the ignition and the car purrs to life.

“I have a feeling this can drive over water,” Felicity jokes. Laurel shakes her head in amusement as she reverses the car, and soon enough they’re on their way to Tommy’s vacation home.

As they drive to Tommy’s house Felicity is charmed by the Hamptons’ quaintness. Faint lights from inside the houses illuminate their beauty, the air is clear as it can be, and it makes Felicity feel safe. Hardly any cars whizz by and there’s minimal activity outside – she certainly doesn’t miss Star City’s noisy streets filled with pedestrians.

Deep in her thoughts, Felicity doesn't realize they've made it to the house. Felicity looks out the window, and a large light-brown house with a three-car garage greeting her. Despite its grandeur, it looks welcoming, and the front lawn is perfectly groomed with daisies planted near the entranceway.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity gets out of the car and observes her surroundings. There are two other houses next to Tommy’s but they’re spread far apart. The beach can be seen from this vantage point, the cool air fanning Felicity’s skin. The air smells different – it’s cleaner and a bit salty. It bites her skin while simultaneously soothing it.

Any reservations she might have had about this vacation are completely gone now, and she happily goes to the trunk to retrieve her carry-on. “Well?”

Smiling, Felicity jokingly pretends to scrutinize the home. “It could take some more work.”

Sensing the facetiousness, Laurel rolls her eyes and links her arm through Felicity’s. “Come on, let’s go inside the not-so-great house.”

Felicity grabs her luggage and slowly walks inside Tommy’s vacation home. A well-lit foyer immediately greets her – it has a large table in the middle with a beautiful chandelier hovering above, and a couple of expensive chairs patiently sit to her right. The stairs leading to the second floor are on the other side of the room, and elegant French doors block the beach’s entrance.

“Wow. Now this is what I call a vacation home.”

Laurel takes Felicity’s hand. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. Why don’t you freshen up a bit then we can have dinner?”

Felicity nods in agreement while Laurel takes charge and leads her up the stairs. Just as she’s about to take her first step, she hears a loud “Laurel?” and freezes. When she turns around, she’s greeted by Tommy Merlyn’s smiling face. “Felicity!” he booms.

“Hi, Tommy,” she says, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you someplace other than a club.”

Tommy chuckles. “I wish I could say I remember meeting you, but I don’t,” he teases.

“Tommy,” Laurel admonishes.

He glances at her briefly before returning his attention back to Felicity. “I hope the ride here was okay. The one time I took public transportation was when I came here for spring break, and Oliver and I almost got kicked off for doing . . .” He seems a bit flustered and quickly laughs it off, and for one glorious moment Felicity realizes she’s not the only one who’s unable to withhold information. This is great news.

Trying to change the subject, Tommy reaches for Felicity’s bag. “Here, let me take your luggage upstairs.”

“It’s fine, I got it. And by the way, thank you for changing my flight at the last minute and letting me stay here.”

“Oh, it’s nothing really. It’s the least I can do for Laurel’s best friend.” His eyes touch upon Laurel as he speaks and Felicity has to smile at the sign of affection.

“This is your home too. Don’t hesitate to do whatever you want.”

“Absolutely.”

Tommy opens his mouth to say something else, but he stops himself short and laughs nervously. “Well, I’ll be down in the kitchen preparing dinner and trying my best not to burn everything.” He smiles one more time before spinning on his heels and heading straight to the kitchen.

She’s enamored by Laurel’s boyfriend, and Felicity is excited she’s getting a chance to hang out with Tommy. “He is so adorable. Can I keep him?” she whispers to Laurel as they start up the stairs.

“That depends – what do you want him for?”

“Hmm . . . It would be nice to have him as my cuddle buddy.”

Laurel’s laugh echoes in the hallway as she takes a right.   “But that’s going to be a problem since he’s my cuddle buddy.”

Gasping, Felicity asks “Did you two have sex?” Not even bothering to take in her surroundings, Felicity quickly ditches her heels and luggage.  “Laurel, did you two do the frick-frack? The PB&J? The –”

“Yes we did!” Laurel shuts the door behind her and sits on the bed, her eyes shining and a grin forming on her lips. “Just don’t scream it at the top of your lungs.”

“Tell me everything!” Felicity excitedly flops on the very plush bed and rolls onto her elbows. “But not all of it because, well, that’s gross. And actually, if we’re planning on hanging out with Tommy all the time then I don’t want to imagine you two doing the . . . thing.” Clearing her throat she mutters, “Hello, weird.”

“Oh my God, Felicity, you’re making this so much worse.”

“I’m sorry!” Felicity grabs onto Laurel's cold hands and tightens her hold around it. “I’m so happy you’re getting laid – God knows you needed it – and clearly Tommy’s done a good job since you look like you’ve been on a honeymoon.” She ostentatiously scans Laurel from head to toe and sassily adds, “Mm hmm. Definitely on honeymoon central.” 

Laurel reddens immediately. “Do I really?”

“Well, yes, but there’s nothing wrong with it. I’m messing with you.”

“Figures,” Laurel says playfully, rolling her eyes.

From downstairs echoes the hollow bang and clatter of pots and pans, and Laurel winces. “Clearly dinner is nowhere being done.”

“Think I might have time to get a bubble bath?”

“Go for it. I swear Felicity, the bath salts are like special crystals from Heaven.  Use anything you want.  It’s amazing.” Another loud sound emanates from the kitchen; they flinch when Tommy loudly swears.  Laurel leaps up from the bed. “While you’re doing that, I’d better go see if I can prevent a dinner disaster.”

Felicity’s extremely close to laughing when Laurel bolts out of the room and heads down to the kitchen. From the sound of it, she’d better hurry if she wants to get her bubble bath in before the house burns down.

She is going to take full advantage of this vacation.

A couple of hours later, Felicity’s wrapped in a warm, fluffy sweater, parked in the perfect spot near the fire pit, and tucking into what seems like the best meal she’s had in weeks.  It’s the first home cooked one she’s had in a while; with the hours she’s working, dinner’s been grab and go from the nearest fast food joint or worse, stale crackers and bad candy from the office vending machines. Gathering a forkful of pasta, she pops it into her mouth and closes her eyes, not bothering to stifle her moan of pleasure.  She hears Laurel laugh softly, and when she opens her eyes Laurel and Tommy are grinning madly. “This is like eating a slice of Italian heaven.”

Leaning forward and getting a piece of bread, Tommy says, “Glad you like it.” He relaxes back in his chair and glances at Laurel fondly. “I can’t take all the credit though.”

Laurel shrugs. “You did fine except for almost burning the house down.”  Tommy pretends to look affronted but he laughs anyway, and Felicity watches the two lovebirds from afar. She’s amazed at how relaxed Laurel appears to be. Felicity’s caught Laurel gazing at Tommy one too many times tonight, and each time she does Felicity can’t restrain herself from smiling like a fool. Seeing how well they cooked dinner together might be an indicator of how perfect they are.

“Where did you get the recipe for the sauce?” she asks. “It’s amazing.”

She knows instantly she’s said the wrong thing when Tommy stiffens. “It’s actually my mother’s recipe,” he says, sounding as if he’s trying too hard to sound casual; instead, it comes off as brittle and forced.  

An uncomfortable silence envelops them as Felicity tries to figure out what she’s done wrong.  “She must be very proud you can cook so well,” she ventures.

“Yeah . . . I’d like to think she is,” he softly agrees. His jaw tightens for a split second and he focuses on the plate in front of him, avoiding eye contact. Gathering whatever courage he has, Tommy glances at Felicity and smiles fondly. Over to the side Laurel reaches for his hand and firmly grasps it, her eyes communicating to Tommy she’s here for him. Oh no. “She . . . died.  A long time ago. Obviously you wouldn’t know, but at least we got her recipes.”

Felicity’s heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach. She can see how much her death affected Tommy, and she wished Laurel had warned her before sticking her foot in her mouth and hurting Tommy.

Felicity self-consciously shifts in her seat and tries to remedy the situation. “Well, thank you Mrs. Merlyn,” she toasts while raising her wine glass. She’s not sure if it’s the right thing to say, but she hopes it’s enough to make Tommy feel better.

Thankfully, Tommy’s shoulders relax and he toys with his glass. Inhaling deeply, Tommy makes a move to get up and offers, “I’m going to get another bottle of wine. Should I get more salad?”

“That would be great.” Laurel hands him the salad bowl and nods as she does so, silently reassuring him everything is all right. Felicity feels she’s intruding on a personal moment and looks away.

Tommy exits the room and shuts the door behind him, leaving Laurel and Felicity alone in their thoughts. Felicity absentmindedly twirls her fork on her plate, calmly listening to the ocean waves, when Laurel breaks the silence. “I need to tell you something.”

“Shoot. You’re not going to kick me out, are you?”

“No. Never.” Laurel hesitates for a moment and avoids making eye contact. “But . . .”

“Now I’m concerned. What’s wrong?”

Laurel shifts uncomfortably, avoiding Felicity’s gaze. “It’s nothing massive or anything, but . . . Oliver is coming to stay for the weekend. He’s coming tonight actually.”

Felicity’s heart thuds and her ears burn. “Oliver Twist?”

“No. Oliver Queen.”

“Are you shitting me?” Words begin to spill out of her mouth, but she can’t help it – a small part of her feels betrayed. “I thought this was supposed to be a vacation, not a torture session with Star City's resident idiot! And how many times do I have to tell you he is my boss! A boss who can get me fired!” Her voices rises and upon seeing Laurel’s eyes widen she attempts to rein herself in.

“Stop overreacting, Felicity!” Laurel whispers. She too leans forward as she tries to keep the conversation hushed, but Felicity’s having none of it.

“Did you really say that?” Scoffing, Felicity throws her hands in the air. “I have a very important job I need to keep. This is unprofessional on my part.”

She’s frustrated Laurel doesn’t realize the gravity of her situation. Queen Consolidated is a multibillion-dollar corporation with a lot of eyes and ears. If people start to hear about Felicity hanging out with Tommy and Oliver, she’s going to lose her credibility and be mistaken for sleeping her way to the top. Felicity has achieved far too much to lose everything in an instant.

Laurel snorts. “You’re being dramatic. First, he’s not your boss. Second, you don’t have to hang out with him.”

Closing her eyes and calming herself, Felicity attempts to explain as best as she can. “Laurel, I don’t want people to assume I’m smooching up with America’s biggest playboy as I’m trying to get a promotion. How can you not get it?” Exasperated, Felicity finishes the rest of her wine in one gulp and lets the alcohol burn. She needs another bottle.

Now that finally shuts Laurel up. She opens her mouth to counter Felicity’s argument when she promptly closes it back up. Unwilling to admit her mistake, Laurel diverts Felicity’s very real problem and justifies, “I . . . couldn’t say no to inviting Oliver when he’s Tommy’s best friend. I didn’t think it was going to be a problem, I swear.  And since he is Tommy’s best friend, I would like to get to know Oliver better.”

A bubble of sarcasm comes up to the surface and Felicity scoffs, “How convenient that you choose to hang out with Oliver the same weekend I’m here!”

“Of course it’s convenient because it is a weekend!” Laurel’s getting riled up too, but she takes a deep breath and controls herself. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I really wanted you to meet Tommy, and I was afraid you’d go nuts on me and cancel the vacation. I didn’t think how it could damage your career possibilities, but you’ll only be here for a couple of days. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“For starters, a while back he brought his laptop to the IT department, and he told me he watched porn on the same computer I touched, which is why he needed help getting rid of the viruses.” She shudders as she remembers their conversation, and her annoyance reaches an unprecedented new level. “This is the kind of stuff I do not want to deal with this weekend.”

Laurel’s clearly taken aback. “Um, well, that’s unfortunate.” She puts a small piece of arugula in her mouth and chews as she thinks. “But –”

“You think?” Felicity sizes her up. She just wants Laurel to admit she made a mistake. And possibly kick Oliver out of the house.

“But if you stick with me you’ll be completely fine,” Laurel lamely suggests.

“Please.” Glancing up, she sees Tommy coming with a full bowl of salad and a new bottle of wine. Leaning across the table once more, Felicity hisses, “Thanks for the not-so heads up. This is all on you.”

Laurel’s face darkens and she clenches her jaw, but before she can say anything back Tommy loudly opens the door. He immediately slows his steps as he’s greeted with a cold reception, his eyes darting back and forth between Laurel and Felicity. Clearing his throat he says, “Alright, more salad and wine for you ladies!” He ostentatiously places the bowl in the middle of the table and the wine bottle next to Felicity, clearly trying to alleviate the tension between them.

“Thanks Tommy,” Laurel manages to say. She immediately takes a spoonful of salad and dumps it on her plate, her sour expression raising a questioning eyebrow from Tommy.

“Ditto,” Felicity bitterly adds as she lays claim on the wine bottle.

This is officially the worst weekend ever, she thinks, and it hasn’t even started.

The clock reads one in the morning, and despite lying in bed for nearly three hours Felicity hasn’t been able to fall asleep. Felicity’s less than civil conversation with Laurel has her mind spinning, preventing her from focusing on anything else. It’s silly, really, letting their disagreement get to her, but she can’t help it.

Although she regrets exploding on Laurel, she doesn’t feel her anger is misplaced. Felicity has fought tooth and nail to rise up the ranks at QC. As a certified genius and a woman, working in IT has its ups and downs. There is an indescribable amount of prejudice in the workplace, and she’s had to prove herself time and time again. Felicity’s afraid one small rumor could turn into a debacle.

Regardless, she can understand where Laurel is coming from. Laurel is Tommy’s boyfriend, and being near him doesn’t necessarily make her guilty by association. Thankfully, it’s off season at the Hamptons, and that means no prying eyes. As long as this will be the only time she sees Oliver outside of the office, Felicity supposes the situation isn’t entirely serious.

At the moment Oliver’s presence, although unpleasant, is unavoidable -- she’ll simply have to suck it up. After weeks of stress and numerous projects, Felicity had hoped an impromptu vacation would give her a chance to relax. She shouldn’t let Oliver’s arrival hinder her enjoyment.

A couple of minutes pass as Felicity lies restlessly when she decides to get up and eat a snack. Throwing the plush blanket aside, she grabs a green hoodie from her college days and stealthily pads down the stairs to the kitchen, oblivious to someone silently hovering in front of the fridge.

She yelps and jumps back, her hand immediately coming up to rest above her heart. It takes her another moment to realize the man is not a threat, but Oliver Queen himself.

“Oh my God, you scared me!” Felicity takes a few deep breaths and attempts to calm herself down, thankful she’s covered up and somewhat presentable. Oliver, on the other hand, is shirtless and sweating profusely, a pair of headphones dangling around his neck.

She would be lying if she didn’t take a moment to look at Oliver’s body, because there are rumors and then there’s the truth. He’s all muscle and without a single inch of fat, his skin smooth and unblemished. She takes a moment to survey the dips and curves before her gaze lands on Oliver’s cerulean eyes, lit with curiosity and a hint of amusement. For a fleeting moment her chest swells, the feeling completely unknown to her, and it causes her to snap out of her daze.

What am I doing? Her face heats until she’s sure Oliver can see her blushing despite it being nighttime. Horrified by her unwarranted thoughts, Felicity silently counts backwards from three to rid her head of such imagery.

“Sorry. I was out on a late night run and needed a drink.” Turning, he shuts the refrigerator door, plunging the room into darkness. She can hear the gurgle and the crinkle of the bottle as he drinks greedily.

Before she can embarasses herself further, Felicity quickly says, “Right. Well, I wanted to eat a little bit before going to bed.” Slapping her palms against her thighs and trying to make the situation over as fast as possible, she adds, “I really like the ice cream Laurel brought.”

Of all the things I could’ve said . . .

Oliver nods and finishes drinking the entire bottle. “Okay. Cool.”

Rolling his shoulders back, he crushes the bottle and throws it inside the trashcan, even though there’s a recycling bin next to it. How typical – of course Oliver wouldn’t bother recycling, even though QC has spent the last five years attempting to be a global leader in renewable energy sources. Oliver Queen is certainly not a model QC employee.

“Yep.”

Facing her once more, he stands in the middle of the kitchen and doesn’t move. Oliver doesn’t say anything and neither does Felicity; the silence becomes embarrassingly awkward and for once Felicity can’t produce a single sentence to alleviate the awkwardness.

“I’m just going to . . .” She points at the fridge and steps forward.

Oliver softly says “Oh” and makes a movement to leave at the same time she walks towards the freezer. His large frame blocks Felicity from her destination, his shoulders barring her line of sight. She takes a tiny step back to distance herself -- even though Oliver is a playboy whose reputation is known to everybody, she’s powerless when it comes to well-defined chests.

She mentally groans and kicks herself in the head. Of all the men she could admire, it’s Oliver Queen’s body she’s staring at. Not wanting to get sidetracked by his physique again, Felicity forces herself to focus on something else.

Once her brain clears she can smell his sweat, mixed in with a hint of salt and something a bit woodsey, filling in her nostrils. She wrinkles her nose to push the smell away. Regaining her composure, Felicity steps to the right and Oliver immediately follows -- now they’re right back to square one.

Finally looking up at Oliver, Felicity suggests, “How about I go to the left and you go to the right.”

“Good idea.”

They move in a synchronized fashion and away from each other’s way; Felicity quietly sighs in relief. Free from Oliver’s suffocating presence, Felicity opens the freezer and takes out her ice cream.

“Do you plan on staying here to eat?” Oliver asks.

He stops at the window and turns to her, moonlight from the nearby window glistening off a sheen of sweat. Despite his disarray, everything about him screams arrogance. It irritates Felicity how unfazed he is by his half-naked state, because although Oliver might feel comfortable parading around shirtless, Felicity finds herself annoyingly flustered. He’s throwing her off -- he’s not supposed to be handsome and an idiot and distracting her from snack time.

Felicity frowns. “Uh, yeah.” She shuts the freezer and proceeds to take a bowl from one of the cabinets, eyeing Oliver carefully.

He takes a deep breath then advises, “I . . . wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Why’s that?” Felicity is getting frustrated Oliver hasn’t left yet. She begins to scoop out spoonfuls of ice cream and dumps it in her bowl, hoping her clipped replies will convince Oliver to leave her alone.

Oliver fidgets from side to side and purses his lips, frustrated she’s not listening to him. It’s uncomfortably silent now, and as Felicity is about to put the ice cream back in the freezer, an odd sound floats into the kitchen.

Confused, Felicity glances at Oliver. “Did you hear that?”

He smirks and raises an eyebrow. “The fucking can be pretty loud in here, which is why I suggested you shouldn’t stay in the kitchen. But you can stay if you want.” And with that, he spins on his heel and exits the kitchen, leaving Felicity utterly baffled by his comment.

She blankly stares at the empty space where Oliver was standing and automatically dismisses his comment, which naturally had vulgar language, and since it’s coming from Oliver anything he says is nonsense. She doesn’t even know what he’s referring to. Weird.

Ignoring his unwanted advice, she walks over to the table and sits down as she finally gets a chance to eat her late night snack. Just as Felicity is about to eat her first bite, she hears another faint sound and immediately stops all other movements.

Unexpectedly, a soft moan migrates into the kitchen, and it takes every ounce of strength to prevent herself from screaming. Oliver was actually right. That’s it – she has to get out of here.

Anxiety catches up to her. This is possibly the worst predicament Felicity’s ever been in during a vacation -- there’s no way she’ll be able to act normal and keep her mouth shut when she sees Laurel in the morning. She frets for a moment longer and decides to get out of the kitchen, pronto. Once she manages to pull herself together, Felicity holds the bowl close to her chest as she runs out of there, stealthily sprinting up the stairs in record time and shutting the door as softly as she can.

Closing her eyes in relief, Felicity woefully glances at the bowl and wishes she had twenty tubs of ice cream to get her through the weekend.

She’s not sure if she’ll make it through in one piece by Sunday.

Glancing at her watch a fifth time in the past thirty seconds, Felicity finally decides to go downstairs and face Laurel. Gathering her courage, Felicity descends to the kitchen, all bright and white in the morning sun while Laurel’s sitting at the table. The sight of French toast and pancakes on the table makes Felicity’s mouth water, overcoming any reservations she might have about joining Laurel.

Laurel smiles, determined not to let last night’s argument affect her morning. “Hey Felicity! How’d you sleep?”

It appears Laurel is willing to ignore what transpired yesterday, or she might be feeling guilty but not ready to apologize. Although Felicity doesn’t feel comfortable letting their argument hang over their head, she decides to go along with the charade anyway. However, what comes out of her mouth is, “Not too well considering I could hear you guys when I came down to get a snack.”

Laurel reddens instantly. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” She brings her right leg up and wraps both arms around it, her embarrassment getting to her. “Tommy said it would be fine and I thought I was being quiet –”

“Now that’s enough information for today,” Felicity cringes. She can’t resist smiling though, so she changes the subject. “I’m going to, uh, eat some breakfast.”

Laurel visibly relaxes. “I got your favorite cereal in case you didn’t want to eat a heavy breakfast, and there’s fresh coffee,” she adds hurriedly. “And I was thinking we could go and take in the sights. What do you say?”

“Can I make a decision once I’ve had my coffee?” Right on cue her stomach grumbles.

“Oh right. I should know better.” Felicity swiftly gets up and walks over to the counter, picking up an empty mug and pouring coffee as fast as she can before she crashes from lack of caffeine.

There’s a moment of silence until Laurel breaks it. “Felicity, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” Watching Laurel warily, she wonders what’s coming next.

“I’m . . . sorry I didn’t tell you about Oliver. I didn’t realize the extent of how Oliver’s lifestyle could hurt your career possibilities, but he is who he is and I should’ve kept that in mind.” She toys with the table cloth. “I got wrapped up in wanting everyone to be happy, and I thought if I didn’t tell you things would still be okay, that we would figure it out.” Smiling tiredly, she says again, “I really am sorry.”

“Thanks Laurel. I appreciate it.” This trip is anything but perfect, yet she knows Laurel had good intentions for this vacation.She wishes Laurel told her beforehand, but Laurel’s right -- they always find a way to fix things together.

Now it’s her turn to apologize. “Hey Laurel?”

“Hmm?”

Felicity fidgets slightly and taps her mug. “I’m sorry I yelled at you about You Know Who. He . . . gets on my nerves, and the whole point of a vacation is to let loose.”

“Apology accepted." 

Felicity smiles and continues. “But I want you to know . . . I think you’re misunderstanding how serious the situation can be.”

“Oh.” Laurel’s face falls.

“I don’t want you to feel bad,” Felicity says hastily. “People can twist a simple vacation to something else as I’m working towards a promotion. And the guys in the IT department love to gossip.” She wrinkles her nose in distaste and sighs. “I know you didn’t mean any harm, but I hope you get where I’m coming from.”

Laurel’s nods in understanding. “I promise to not do it again.”

“It’s okay. Seriously.” Glad things have settled, Felicity comes over to the table and sits back down, promptly putting a pancake on her plate and dumping a gallon of syrup.

“Did you see him yet?”

She pauses as her conversation with Oliver plays out in her head, and she can feel her blush creeping up again as her mind assaults her with Oliver’s body. “Uh yes. For a bit. I came to the kitchen to get some ice cream, he scared me, and told me not to sit here because the . . . noises are louder in here.”

“Shit.” Laurel guiltily looks at her and bites her lip, humiliation getting to her.

“It’s fine. Although, I must say it’s pretty cute when you’re all flustered.” She doesn’t miss Laurel’s eye narrowing. Taking another sip of coffee, Felicity adds, “It’s nice to see someone else get embarrassed instead of me.”

Pointing a finger at Felicity, Laurel sternly threatens, “Just you –”

“Morning!”

Felicity flinches from Tommy’s voice and nearly chokes. He bounces into the room and promptly kisses Laurel on her forehead, his hand caressing her head. Laurel visibly blushes but Tommy is unfazed, and he glances up momentarily and says, “Hey, Felicity!” She grunts a reply because she’s still not ready for his cheerfulness this early in the morning.

Tommy bustles about in the kitchen as he and Laurel talk about their plans for today. Felicity begins to eat her pancake, but over to the side she notices Tommy producing two mugs and promptly pours coffee into them. Oh no -- it seems Oliver might be coming into the kitchen.

He catches Felicity’s wandering eye and beams at her. Better pay attention now. “Well ladies, don’t do anything I would do,” Tommy adds with a wink.

“That doesn’t stop us from doing much,” Laurel snorts.

Felicity grins; she can only imagine the kind of things Tommy does on a regular basis. He laughs, the sound echoing off the walls and brightening the room even more, and for a brief moment everything seems all right.

At least until Oliver barges in.

He’s wearing a shirt and shorts, and his hooded eyes indicate he had little sleep. Muttering a “Hello” he heads straight into his coffee, and doesn’t bother to spare a glance at either Felicity or Laurel.

Closing her eyes and praying for an extra dose of patience, Felicity focuses back on her breakfast.

“Hey Oliver,” Laurel greets nervously. It dawns on Felicity this may be Laurel’s first actual interaction with Oliver, and seeking his approval might be important for her best friend. Taking a quick peek at Oliver, she silently shoots daggers and telepathically attempts to convince him to be nice to Laurel.

“So what do you guys have planned?” Oliver asks. He’s leaning against the counter, nursing his cup of coffee. Tommy’s next to him and drinking from his cup, and it isn’t long before Oliver pokes Tommy’s side. Tommy instantly slaps Oliver’s hand away and tries to step on his foot; Oliver barely escapes. They’re such boys.

“We were going to sightsee.” Laurel smiles at Oliver and thankfully he smiles back, which makes Laurel perk up.

“Laurel, you should show Felicity the Farmer’s Market,” Tommy recommends.

Oliver nods. “That’s a good place to start. You two should definitely check out the lighthouse too, it’s neat.”

“Good idea. What do you say, Felicity?” Laurel asks.

She’s caught off guard and doesn’t fail to notice Oliver and Tommy staring at her intently. “Wherever Laurel goes, I go.” Except for the lighthouse because Oliver suggested it.

Laurel excitedly claps her hands. “Perfect!” Over to the side Felicity spots Oliver and Tommy exchanges glances – Tommy’s smiling nervously whereas Oliver raises an eyebrow, his inquisitive look effectively wiping Tommy’s smile off his face. Felicity doesn’t like how the silent exchange between them looks, but all she can do for now is simply wait and see.

The rest of breakfast goes by with no fanfare – Oliver leaves as soon as he finishes his coffee, and Tommy hangs around for a minute later before chasing after his friend. Once Felicity finishes her pancakes and (second) cup of coffee, Laurel cheerily asks, “Ready?”

Felicity’s not sure if backing out on their plans will help, but she grins anyway and cheerily says, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The market is incredibly charming – there are handmade items in nearly every booth they visit, and the produce looks positively delicious. The people are very welcoming, and Felicity finds herself enjoying the slightly chilly afternoon. She’s never been to the countryside – Vegas is far from homely and country, and Star City is too gritty to sustain such a fantasy. But she likes this, even if it’s for one small weekend. Maybe she’ll come back in the future.

Laurel and Felicity absentmindedly walk until they see another booth filled with fresh blueberry smoothies and assorted fruits to take home. Fawning at the smoothies, Laurel promptly digs into her purse for cash, only to realize she’s already spent it all. She pouts. “Do you have a ten?”

Sighing, Felicity produces a ten and sees her money supply is dwindling. “You’re going to have to pay me back one day.” Laurel smirks and buys her drink, and as she does so Felicity takes a good look at her surroundings. It’s peaceful here, and despite her earlier fears Felicity finds herself relaxing during this mini vacation.

“How long do you and Tommy plan on staying here?” Felicity stops and plants herself on the grass, patting the area next to her, trying to get Laurel to sit down and talk. Her friend frowns but sits down anyway, drink in hand.

Shrugging, Laurel glances out at the scenery in front of her and sighs. “Not sure. I don’t have a job, Tommy's got his own thing he does and I kind of like it here.” 

Felicity watches Laurel carefully, because this is a whole new side of her best friend she has never seen. It’s incredible. She’s softer and more relaxed now, and Felicity suspects not having to worry about job prospects is causing Laurel to be this way. Perhaps Laurel should stay here for a month or two – a week has done wonders for her already.

“Laurel I . . . honestly don’t think I’ve seen you like this. Ever. I’m –”

“Shocked?” Laurel laughs and sips from her cup, thinking as she does so. “I know I am. I’m really trying to let go, I guess.” She smiles nervously and fondly looks at Felicity. “Thanks for pushing me. I would’ve ignored Tommy had you not encouraged me to take a leap of faith.”

Warmth blossoms inside Felicity, and she melts upon hearing Laurel’s sentiments. “That’s what best friends are for." She grabs a hold of Laurel’s thin fingers and squeezes her hand. “But the next time Oliver’s invited somewhere, I’ll be at home catching up on Netflix.” She frowns then thinks aloud, “Actually, I would probably be in the office and trying to watch Netflix there instead.”

Laurel smiles and firmly presses Felicity’s hand as well. “Duly noted.”

“So I’m assuming Tommy is pretty much perfect, minus his partying tendencies?” 

It takes Laurel a moment to gather her thoughts. “I think before he would . . . try to fill his time being a playboy because it’s all he ever knew? He hasn’t gone out since we started dating, even though I didn’t say anything to him. I know he's working on business ventures and he's serious about it. And I think he has the capability to be in a committed relationship.” She contemplates for awhile, her smoothie left untouched.

“You think he’s capable of being committed, or do you know?” The “think” is worrisome for Felicity – she doesn’t want Laurel to get hurt in the future all because Tommy doesn’t know how to keep his pants zipped. While Tommy may have filled his time with booze and girls just to waste time, the fact that he’s turned around so quickly seems a little off for Felicity. What if he messes up?

“I don’t really know,” Laurel admits. “But for now I’m okay with that.”

This is odd. For as long as Felicity’s known Laurel, her friend has always needed a set plan and a desire to know everything and anything. They’re the same in that respect, but Laurel tends to control everything within her grasp. Seeing Laurel floating along her relationship with Tommy is certainly different and not like the Old Laurel she’s become accustomed to.

Not knowing how to respond, Felicity digests the information and tries to pretend her mind isn’t spinning in circles. “Huh. If it’s what makes you happy then so be it.”

It’s almost laughable how relieved Laurel looks, but then Felicity starts to feel bad for even doubting Laurel’s decisions. Perhaps letting loose and not labeling their relationship is good for Laurel. She’s lived her life constrained by her plans – it’s time Laurel deviates off her path.

Satisfied for now, Felicity tilts her head and proposes, “What do you say – you want to go back to the house and hang out on the beach?” 

Frowning, Laurel takes another sip from her cup and quzzically looks at Felicity. “I thought we were going to go to the lighthouse?”

“Um no.”

Laurel’s taken aback. “Why not?”

“Because . . . Oliver suggested going there and I don’t want to listen to his suggestions.”

Laurel smacks her hand against her forehead and laughs loudly. It isn’t long before Felicity’s burst into a fit of giggles, and as they get up and walk towards the car, Felicity almost forgets about Oliver ruining her vacation. Almost. 

 They arrive at the house in twenty minutes and they go straight to the family room, dumping their bags on the couches. It’s quiet in the house, for which Felicity is grateful. Laurel, not so much.

“Tommy?” She stands in the middle of the room and waits for a reply, except there isn’t one.

Sensing an opportunity, Felicity flops on the couch and puts her hands behind her head. “Don’t do that! We have some time without the guys, so we might as well utilize it.”

“Seriously? We spent three hours together. I’m getting a little tired of you.”

Felicity pretends to look outraged, but nonetheless a chuckle escapes her lips. “I don’t know, it sounds like you miss your boyfriend. You’re whipped.”

Shaking her head, Laurel pointedly ignores Felicity’s suggestive eyebrows. “Fine. Want to walk on the beach before it gets colder?”

“Sure.” She stands up and walks toward the doors leading to the balcony. Opening the doors, a fresh breeze hits her and she marvels as she sees a beautiful terrace. She wasn’t able to see the pool last night, but she can spot it a couple steps below, decked out with a Jacuzzi. From this view the ocean welcomes her with open arms.

“I hadn’t realized how beautiful it really is.” Felicity basks under the sunlight and wraps her sweater around her even closer. The air is slightly chilly but relaxing.  “Now I know why people spend so much money here.”

Laurel comes out to the terrace and wraps an arm around Felicity’s shoulders. “I know I would.” Felicity smiles and the two head towards the stairs leading to the beach. The house is on a bit of a hill, and Felicity’s glad she didn’t wear any heels – a tumble down these stairs would surely kill her.

As they descend the stairs, the crash of waves grows in volume and she hears some yelling. “Are there people on the beach today?”

A few paces ahead of her, Laurel responds, “I guess. Anybody who has a house by the water doesn’t own the beach – obviously – so it’s not unnatural for random people to be in your backyard.”

“Isn’t that a safety concern?”

“Not really. The locals here are nice.”

As they get closer the shouts grow in volume. When they get to the beach, Tommy and Oliver are playing volleyball not far from the landing. At the present Tommy is about to serve while Oliver casually stands and waits for his best friend. They’re both wearing hoodies and shorts, although Oliver’s hoodie has no sleeves.

“Hey guys!” Laurel waves and ditches Felicity, running to Tommy and leaving Felicity no choice but to join.

Felicity bends and unbuckles her sandals before meeting up with the gang. The wind is a bit strong here, so she ties up her hair and approaches everyone, the cool sand massaging her feet. Oliver’s standing further away from the net while Tommy quietly talks to Laurel. Not wanting to be next to Oliver, Felicity stays back. “What’s up?”

Tommy looks up and smiles once he sees Felicity. “Do you want to play?” He tosses the ball in between his hands and raises an eyebrow, challenging her.

“I will if you’re on my team.”

“Good idea!” Laurel exclaims. Laurel steps away and heads towards Oliver’s side. Turning around and facing Oliver, she asks, “Mind if I’m your partner?”

Carefully watching Oliver, Felicity sees him hesitating and she gets a bit angry. What could possibly take him so long to agree? A second later he smiles tightly and manages to say, “Not at all.” Felicity knows Laurel saw the tiny bit of reluctance, but her friend puts on a brave face and pretends she didn’t notice.

Channeling her contempt for Oliver, Felicity joins Tommy and hovers near the net, preparing for a blowout against the competition. Felicity rubs her hands together and points lasers at Laurel, to which she giggles and waves Felicity off. Smiling, Felicity glances back at Tommy and nods, signaling she’s ready.

“Ready to get your asses kicked?” Tommy yells. He steps further back and spins the ball in his hand, his arrogance getting the better of him. He grins at Felicity and prepares to serve.

At the exact moment, Oliver bends and places his hands on his knees, his arm muscles bulging out and accentuating every curve. Felicity sighs -- how could somebody look the way he does and simultaneously have a horrid personality?

Answer: anyone with a large enough trust fund.

Oliver scoffs loudly and haughtily replies, “I’m just trying to remember when you actually did. If memory serves me you never have.”

Tommy ignores Oliver’s remarks and serves the ball, hitting hard and fast. Just as the ball flies over the net Felicity’s heart starts to race – playing sports always gets her adrenaline pumping, and the thought of destroying her nemesis delights her. Oliver immediately bumps the ball over the net, ignoring Laurel, which, granted, she’s terrible at volleyball, but he could’ve tried.

A gust of wind suddenly comes through, and Felicity takes the opportunity by gently throwing the ball over the net toward Laurel. The wind tosses it at an angle, so when Laurel goes to hit it she misses completely. The ball lands on the sand and Laurel picks it up, blushing furiously.

Handing the ball to her, Laurel says, “I promise I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You did fine. It’s because of the wind, that’s all.” Laurel gives her a silent thank you and goes back to her spot.

“That’s okay, you have plenty of other chances to hit the ball,” Tommy soothes. He’s so nice for noticing Laurel’s discomfort and trying to make it better. Unfortunately, it didn’t necessarily help since Felicity can spot Laurel nervously smiling and pretending Oliver’s disinterest doesn’t bother her. It definitely bothers Felicity.

Felicity hands the ball to Tommy and prepares for his next serve. “One–zero,” he notes, keeping track of the score.

“Won’t be long before it’s a hundred to one,” Oliver interjects. He’s directing his attention to Tommy and disregarding Laurel once again, and Felicity has to roll her eyes because he’s being incredibly ostentatious about it.

I’ll get you soon enough.

“Ha ha, very funny. It’s not going to happen, Ollie,” Tommy chides. Adjusting her glasses again, Felicity gets ready for another round, her nerves thrumming.

Tommy serves the ball again and Felicity watches it go over the net, ready for whatever Oliver brings. As predicted, Oliver heads straight for the ball – leaving Laurel in the dust – and bumps it over the net, to which Tommy yells “Got it!” He gets closer to the net and sets the ball to Felicity, and she steadies herself. Even though Felicity’s 5’5” she can throw a mean spike. Gathering all her strength, she brings up her right arm and jumps. From her peripheral vision she sees Oliver suddenly coming at her, but she’s confident she can escape his block and give her team a point.

The palm of her hand connects with the ball, but all of a sudden Oliver’s arm crashes on her shoulder, and nothing can prepare her for the ball slamming against the bridge of her nose and against her glasses.

Blinding pain erupts and she recoils, her legs unable to steady her. She collapses onto the sand and her glasses fall too. “Fuck!” She cradles her nose, afraid if she touches the point of impact she might find blood on her hand. Her shoulder is hurting as well, and if she doesn’t ice it soon she’ll be left with a large bruise or worse.

“Oh my God, are you okay, Felicity?!” Laurel rushes over to her and grabs onto Felicity’s hand, prying it away from her face. Pain makes it impossible for Felicity to open her eyes.  Tears pour down her face -- she tries to force her eyes open, and unfortunately the right one’s giving her trouble.

Oliver did this to me. A slow and simmering fire begins at the pit of her stomach, and her body shakes from adrenaline and anger. If that asshole let Laurel hit the ball then she wouldn’t be in this predicament, and more importantly, had he not agreed to come this weekend she wouldn’t be sitting here having to deal with his presence in general. Screw him.

From her left eye she sees Tommy hovering over her, and he winces once he gets a good look at her. “Ouch. That doesn’t look good,” he diagnoses. Panic takes a hold of her, and based off the looks Tommy and Laurel are giving her she has a feeling she might have to visit a doctor.

“Oh no,” she moans, and she closes her eyes in pain again. A bout of dizziness hits her -- she hangs her head and tries to shove the problem away. If she gets a fracture or a concussion she’s going to sue Oliver for years to come.

“That’s it – we’re taking you to the hospital." Laurel makes a move to lift Felicity, but she sticks her hand out and stops Laurel. The dizziness hasn’t subsided yet. She’s in no position to stand up, let alone climb all those stairs.

Tommy and Laurel anxiously wait and watch her, worried she’ll pass out. Laurel holds onto her hand and squeezes it, reassuring her everything will be all right.  “I’m feeling a little dizzy,” Felicity tells them. Just as she lifts her head she sees Oliver to her side, worry etched across his face. Good. I hope he realizes I’m making a run for his money.

“Shit,” Tommy says, concern lacing his voice. “Do you have your insurance card, Felicity?”

Felicity opens her mouth to respond, but Oliver steps up and quips, “Of course she does. QC offers top-notch healthcare to all of its employees.” 

He really can’t miss a chance to advertise himself, can he?

She’s going to murder him.

Chapter Text

After heading to the doctor's office and getting checked up, Felicity has no desire to head back to the house. Although she doesn't have a concussion, her nose and cheek has swelled up and she's having a small amount of trouble moving her face. It's going to be difficult to explain how she sustained these injuries when she returns to work. Her first response will be to verbally rip Oliver to shreds, but no one is supposed to know they spent the weekend together.

They didn't spend it together together, they were – never mind.

And so, after having Laurel practically carry her to the car and ask her if she's fine every two seconds, they've finally arrived to the very house Felicity hoped to avoid. As much as Felicity wanted to have a simple vacation, this is proving to be far worse than she had expected. If Oliver wasn't the kind of guy he was, then she wouldn't have had to deal with him this weekend, and certainly wouldn't have been hit in the face.

Fate has a funny way of rewarding her for putting up with Oliver.

"All right, don't even move for a second," Laurel commands as she puts the car in Park. "I don't want you sustaining another injury by walking into the house."

"Laurel, I don't have a concussion and I'm perfectly fine. I'm perfectly angry with Oliver, but I don't see that going away any time soon. So."

"And I don't expect it to." Smirking, Laurel gets out of the car and rushes over to Felicity's side. "But I feel like I'm partially responsible for getting your injured when I'm the one who wanted you to come."

Unimpressed by Laurel's guilt, Felicity sighs. "It's not your fault. This is the first weekend I haven't been working. Isn't that a great thing?" Upon seeing Laurel smile just a fraction, Felicity gets out of the car and links her arm around Laurel's. "I just hope Oliver knows what's coming to him."

"I might say a quick prayer for him, because I don't doubt that you'll tear him apart.

When Felicity's dizziness subsided a few minutes after the accident, Oliver and Tommy stayed behind while Laurel took her to the doctor's. She would be lying if she said she didn't think about getting revenge the entire time at the doctor's office, and on the ride back she finalized her plans. Oliver will never know what happened to him.

They head inside as Laurel places a comforting hand behind Felicity's back – to which Felicity decides to say nothing about Laurel's overprotectiveness – and they go straight to the family room. "Sit," Laurel orders. Arguing with Laurel will be pointless, she waits for Laurel to bring an ice pack.

The house is strangely silent, but she suddenly hears loud and boisterous laughter coming from the patio. Her patience is wearing thin, and while she's trying to put on a brave face she doesn't want to deal with Oliver, semi boss or not. Regardless of the fact that Oliver's twenty-eight, he still acts like a child and Felicity doesn't have time for his shenanigans.

Yet when she hears another round of laughter coming from the patio, she can't resist her lips from tugging upward. It's infectious. All she wanted was a weekend of no worries and dealing with zero documents, and there's a part of Felicity that would be willing to let it go.

But there's another part of Felicity stubborn to the core and unwilling to let Oliver Queen win.

"Here you go." Laurel enters the room and hands Felicity an ice pack. The doctor advised her to ice her bruised face as much as she could, and gave her medicine to lessen the swelling. Unfortunately, there's nothing else she can do, and she'll have to go to work looking like she jumped off a roof that ended with disastrous results.

"Don't stop icing it until you go to sleep. On second thought, tape it on your face."

"And freeze my face off? I'd rather let my computers be hacked by the Chinese government." Or . . . not.

Laurel chuckles at Felicity's remarks and looks at her fondly. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Probably get into a lot of trouble. But at least I'm here to be your partner in crime."

Nodding solemnly, Laurel's about to say something else when Tommy and Oliver enter the living room, carrying boxes of pizza and drinks. "Felicity!" Tommy nearly drops the pizza boxes as he rushes towards her. "Are you all right?"

His concerned face is mere inches away, and she almost falls out of the sofa from the disconcerting sight. "Whoa there – you're way too close."

"Oh." Taking a step back he readjusts himself and calmly asks again, "Are you all right?"

Felicity smiles, his concern for her well being making her love him even more. "Yeah. At least I don't have a concussion, which would be horrible considering I spend the entire day looking at a computer screen." Realizing she made it seem as if that's all she does, Felicity feels the urge to correct herself.

"That's not all I do. I do a lot. Obviously I help the company," she throws in as she sneaks a glance at an uninterested Oliver, "but I totally do other things. Sometimes I –"

Abruptly, she hears someone clearing his or her throat loudly, which helps her stop the word vomit. Felicity can't prevent herself from reddening. "Thank you to whoever did that."

"You're welcome," she hears Oliver respond. She looks up to see Oliver carefully eyeing her and judging Felicity for her nonexistent social life. Well. She would rather have no social life than the one Oliver currently has.

There's a tense beat after his remark, but it's broken when Tommy clasps his hands together. "Anyone ready for pizza?"

Eager to dispel the tension, Laurel hurriedly grabs plastic plates and spoons sitting on top of the pizza boxes, and hands a plate to Felicity. "We're starving." It's taking every bit of strength not to bite back at Oliver, but Felicity needs to pick her battles and food triumphs over squabbles any day.

At least for a few minutes.

As Felicity swallows her annoyance away, Laurel lays out the boxes on the table in front of her and turns on some music, while Tommy starts to pour soda in the cups. There's one box of vegetables and meat – wanting to get a head start on the pizza, Felicity dives straight in for the veggie pizza only to find Oliver heading for the same thing.

She freezes as her first reaction is to yell "Mine" but it dawns on her that Oliver's letting her take the food first and he's talking to her.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about today," he apologizes lowly. He's towering above her, his large and impressive frame once again barring her line of sight. His eyes, however, are conveying something a little different – he's nervous.

Perplexed by the turn of events, Felicity eagerly waits for him to continue apologizing, her pizza long forgotten. It isn't an everyday occurrence where Felicity manages to make a future CEO uneasy.

His eyes dart around the room and he shifts his feet, and her chest swells in anticipation. "I didn't realize –"

"Hey Oliver, what drink do you want?"

And just like that, the spell is broken.

Sensing an opportunity to leave his apology half finished, Oliver promptly responds with "Coke" and quickly takes a slice of pizza. He runs to the armchair, which is seated far, far away from Felicity and ignores her glare as he digs into his pizza.

Felicity's in a state of bewilderment. Not only did he hurt her physically, he gave a half-apology and took the first opportunity to bail out of it. What a coward. At this point, she doesn't have the energy to hate him, because Oliver is a man-child who's had zero responsibilities since the day he was born. Apologizing – correction: half apologizing – to her probably gave him a heart attack. Felicity's not going to let him off easy, but she should stop expecting him to turn a new leaf.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity focuses on her dinner and tries to keep a calm façade. Swopping down to Oliver's level will only make things worse and she can't let that happen. She's better than that.

After deciding to let bygones be bygones, Felicity starts munching on her food (with great difficulty, may she add) and joins in on the conversation.

"What else did the doctor say?" Tommy sits on an armchair next to Oliver and digs into his pizza, eyeing Felicity carefully.

Her mouth is full so Laurel chimes in. "She has to ice it and the doctor gave her medicine. There's not much else she can do."

"I hope you feel better soon. But if things get serious I . . . know a plastic surgeon, and she absolutely wouldn't mind having a walk-in. Oh, and Oliver can pay for the appointment!"

Felicity almost chokes on her pizza but manages to swallow it down before breaking into a fit of laughter. Laurel appears aghast, but Felicity finds Tommy's comment hysterical. Tommy has officially landed himself at the top of Felicity's Favorite People list, and she doubts there will be anything to take him out of it.

She peeks at Oliver and surprise, he's got a scowl on his face.

The conversation simmers down as they're extremely hungry after a workout and medical scare. Shockingly, it's the first time this whole weekend they've all been together for an extended period of time, and Felicity's not feeling particularly moody. Well, aside from Oliver giving her a half-assed apology.

Looking at her phone, Felicity sees that it's past eight and would usually leave whatever social situation she's in to finish her work. There's a part of her that wants to – it's home to her. She knows how to do it and it provides her a sense of normalcy. Then again, Felicity's been working extremely hard in order to get her promotion, and a quiet evening with a swollen face is change of pace for her. It's certainly not a welcome change, but something different.

"So," Laurel begins, "you have a sister, Oliver?" Felicity glances up from above her glasses and watches Oliver continue to text while ignoring Laurel. A flare of anger erupts, because hitting and not apologizing to Felicity is one thing, but pointedly ignoring Laurel is another.

It takes Oliver another five agonizing and rude seconds before he responds, "Yes. Her name's Thea, and she's the one who won't stop texting me at the moment." Oliver smiles tightly, irritated by his sister's antics.

Glancing over at Felicity, Laurel says, "I have a younger sister too. Her name's Sara and she's in college . . . At least that's what she tells our parents." Felicity grins at the mention of Sara. Even though Felicity's an only child, Sara is practically her younger sister and she cares deeply for her.

"Thea's the best," Tommy throws in. "I'm obviously her favorite."

"Yesterday she told me you smelled funny, and suggested she buy you a new cologne." While Tommy is shocked by the reveal and Oliver makes fun of him, Felicity looks over at Laurel and sees her face reddening. Laurel had bought him the cologne, which she created herself from a cute shop near their apartment. It smelled divine to Felicity, but apparently Thea Queen's rich taste can't handle it.

"Anyway, she's being childish right now. She's texting me from a bathroom because she's bored at a dinner."

"Where is she?"

Oliver shoves his phone inside his pocket. "With mom and Walter at the Plaza. I don't understand why she's in love with bathrooms."

Laurel shrugs. "It's a phase all girls go through. She'll get over it."

"It's definitely not a phase for guys."

"Right. As if guys like you haven't had phases that are embarrassing."

"For the record we've only had one awkward phase," Tommy says seriously.

"And what's that?"

"A . . . rap one."

Both Laurel and Felicity snort; of course they would go through it. It's impossible for them not to. She can only imagine what kind of clothes they went through.

"Hey, I wasn't part of that," Oliver protests.

"Yes you were." Tommy stares him down, trying to get Oliver to confess.

"No. I've had absolutely no phases. I've been Oliver since the moment I was born." He finishes his sentence by tapping his fingers against the armrest to solidify his point.

Shaking her head in disagreement Laurel says, "Not all phases are obvious. Sometimes you don't realize you've had one until things have changed."

"Yeah, it's kind of similar to how Oliver thinks he hasn't moved on from being a privileged prep."

Oh god. Felicity is only aware of how everyone's eyes slowly go wide in dismay, and when her skin prickles and itches. Her body freezes and her throat dries up in humiliation. Why can't she think before she speaks?

"I didn't –"

Just then Tommy snorts so loud he starts to choke from the force of it. He regains composure less than a second later and doubles over in laughter. Unable to control it anymore, he falls on the floor as he cries from the hilarity of what Felicity said.

Over to the side Laurel can't stop herself from grinning also, but Felicity's reluctant to move a muscle. Even though she believes Oliver is a pompous, ill-mannered boy, she insulted her almost boss again. She may be right in her assessment, but Felicity needs to learn how to control these outbursts.

But when Felicity gathers the courage to glimpse at Oliver, he's carefully watching her and everyone else around him unable to hold themselves together. Even Laurel's openly giggling now, while Tommy takes a five second break before breaking into another fit.

"I've sort of moved past that phase," Oliver mumbles as Tommy reaches over the coffee table and grabs a tissue to wipe his tears away. He's clearly offended by Felicity's comment, but to a certain degree he knows she's right. And it's all she needs to finally breathe.

Even though Oliver Queen doesn't like to apologize or admit when he's wrong, it appears he's got a good habit of not refuting the truth when it comes to his horrid personality. Which is certainly a plus for Felicity.

After dinner, Felicity's retired back to her room, exhausted from sightseeing and the injury she's sustained. She attempts to sleep but sleep never comes. Her mind is too restless, and she's having a hard time sleeping on her side because her face is sore. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning, she finds herself wanting to work despite the late hour.

When she goes to use her laptop, the WiFi signal is absent. With a groan, Felicity wraps a plush throw around her shoulders and heads downstairs into the office, hoping the Internet isn't permanently broken.

Except she finds herself standing alone in a room with Oliver. Again.

"Oh. Hi." Oliver stands still in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. He's caught off guard by Felicity's presence, but at least he has clothes on. "I was going to fix the Internet."

"Yourself?" She's incredulous to say the least.

He's unfazed. "I learned a few things when I was in Russia. A computer was one of them."

She doesn't trust him enough to do it correctly. He can learn from Bill Gates himself and she still wouldn't believe him. "It's fine, I can do it myself. It'll probably get done quicker if I do it, but I'll definitely have to run a diagnostics test."

Felicity cringes on the inside once she realizes it sounded a little mean. "I'm . . . all right with staying a little busy," she says hastily. "It'll be fixed in about ten minutes or so."

For some reason Oliver refuses to let her take the reigns when she's certainly more qualified then he'll ever be. His brows furrow. "I just – all I need to do is unplug and re-plug the cord." Oliver points to the Internet box and raises an eyebrow. "It's really not that difficult."

"I'm not saying it's difficult. I'm saying I have experience in this and I'll guarantee it'll be done thoroughly." Oliver's eyes narrow by her comment but she thinks nothing of it.

"I know it'll be done thoroughly and I don't expect anything less." Oliver turns around and bends to the floor. "But there's no reason to run a diagnostics when all you need to do is unplug the cord." He dramatically pulls the plug and watches her from below, his haughty expression refusing to dissipate.

Crossing her arms and sizing Oliver up, Felicity softly taps her foot in anticipation and annoyance. Tilting her head to the side, she glares at him because she knows he's wrong, and if he could be a little less egotistical that would be fantastic. A male's pride is particularly fragile, especially in the presence of an accomplished woman; Oliver is no different.

It doesn't take long for Felicity's eyes to zero in on Oliver's backside, because it's rather . . . defined. It's hard not to stare when it's shoved in her face. She wouldn't necessarily say she finds butts attractive, but this one isn't so –

She needs to stop. Now.

Pushing those thoughts away, Oliver finally puts the cord back in and watches the lights turn on. Felicity peers over his large frame and sees all the lights are flashing green, but her experience has taught her otherwise. Discreetly, she takes out her phone and checks the WiFi signal, and much to her dismay it's working.

Felicity doesn't like to be wrong – ever – but to have this happen in front of Oliver isn't what she wanted. His overly inflated ego will expand even more, and to be a culprit in Oliver's cycle of egomania only makes her an accomplice – an unwilling one at that.

"Would you look at that, the Internet is working." Oliver glances over his shoulder and smiles smugly before returning back to the other modems to see if they're fine.

She bites her tongue from saying something because she knows it's futile and unnecessary. Yes, Oliver may have gotten all the lights to work and yes, it appears the Internet is working, but it could very well have another meltdown while they're here. Felicity will simply have to conduct her tests when he's not in the room.

Just before she leaves, Felicity scans all the other monitors and cords to see if they're placed correctly. Surprisingly they're all connected in the right areas, but they're scattered about and hazardously wrapped together. "Who set up the Internet here? The cords are a mess."

Oliver sighs deeply as he stands up, and his eyes bore onto Felicity's. "I did it."

Her shoulders sag in defeat; there really is no end to her misery, is there? "I should've known better than to ask."

"You're right. I didn't have time to do it correctly when I came here last year." Her interest piques, since as far as the world knows Oliver didn't come back to the States at all during his five-year stint. "But I guess it's a good thing you're here because you can fix it all you want," he says as gestures at the pile of monitors.

He's mocking her, she's sure of it. "No thanks. I have other pressing concerns like helping you run your company." Glancing at the floor, she mutters angrily, "And making sure my face doesn't swell up to the size of a mountain"

Oliver flinches by her words and guiltily looks to the ground. "Yeah . . . I'm really sorry about that." His jaw ticks but his eyes are soft, and his voice drops an octave. Much to her chagrin it soothes her – it's low a tenor, smooth and enticing.

Before her mind can go elsewhere, she quickly chastises herself for getting momentarily hypnotized. Stay focused, Smoak.

"It was a complete accident. I got arrogant and thought I could hit the ball before you came into view, and I couldn't stop myself from hitting you. I'm really sorry."

Maybe it's a combination of his cute butt, calming voice or the late hour, but suddenly Felicity feels tired of this charade. Of course it's not his fault he couldn't stop himself from hitting her, because it was already too late. Of course this weekend hasn't been horrible because of Oliver, and of course he's not the bad guy here. If anything he's remained civil – as civil as he can be – to Felicity from the very moment he came her.

It's true that his first impression wasn't perfect, and he more or less said Felicity wasn't attractive because she's a smart nerd. But Felicity's been her own worst enemy this weekend and has continuously dampened her own spirits by letting his presence taint her vacation. If she just ignored him she wouldn't be feeling so moody. And while Oliver is kind of her boss, he's been astonishingly good about Felicity's outburst and hasn't threatened to fire her . . . yet.

She doesn't like him – far from it – but she's willing to admit Oliver isn't Voldemort dressed in disguise. He could still work on his social graces, though.

"If there's anything I can do . . ."

Actually, maybe he can.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

He looks surprised that Felicity's actually taking up his offer. "OK?" he asks apprehensively.

"Relax, I'm not going to blackmail you." He swallows thickly, and Felicity can't restrain herself from rolling her eyes. "I would like it if you could be nice to Laurel."

The spell is broken, because at the mention of Laurel he goes back to Rude and Obnoxious Oliver Queen, not Apologetic and Possibly Decent Human Being Oliver Queen. "Am I not nice already?"

Obviously not. "I know her. You're Tommy's best friend, and she wants you to like her because your approval means a lot to Tommy. She hasn't said a word to me, but Laurel's been doing her best to get to know you. A 'thank you' and a few flowery words would be appreciated."

"I suppose . . ."

"Listen, I understand you're protective of him. I'm protective of Laurel, but maybe you should take a step back and let their relationship run its course."

At this moment Felicity's forgotten all about Oliver being her semi-boss, because right now they're best friends of the people they care the most. His animosity towards Laurel is hurting her friend, and Laurel's too kind to broach her concerns with Felicity. The least she can do is smooth things over behind the curtain.

Oliver acquiesces. "All right. I'll let her know she's . . ." He trails off and tries to find the right word. "Cool."

"Right. Good."

Astonished they've managed to have a somewhat decent conversation, Felicity rocks on her heels and chews the inside of her cheek. "Well, uh, night then."

To his credit Oliver smiles normally. "Good night."

As she goes up to her room, she forgets all about her work, and Felicity finally sleeps with no care in the world.

Since Felicity was technically supposed to go back to Star City on Friday via a company-approved plane ticket, she has to take a bus back to Metropolis then grab a cab to the airport. Tommy had insisted she use his private jet to Star City, but she overheard that Oliver would be taking the same jet; she definitely doesn't want to be there. Besides, Felicity's certain her actual bosses won't appreciate spending money for a ticket she didn't use.

All of her belongings are packed, but Felicity spends a couple of minutes looking out the window and soaking in some fresh air. Although the vacation certainly wasn't perfect, she managed to refrain from working and worrying about projects. It's a change of pace for her.

As for her injury, the swelling hasn't ballooned into a purple monster, but she's still sore on the bridge of her nose and there's a bump on top of her cheekbone. She went to sleep with an icepack glued to her face – it's a miracle her face didn't get frostbitten. Nonetheless, Felicity can cover her injury with makeup although she'll have to wear contacts for a while.

She hears some commotion downstairs and readies herself after surveying the room for any items she hasn't packed. As she descends down the stairs, she's greeted by Tommy and Laurel chatting animatedly. "Hey guys."

Tommy's face lights up and he immediately grabs her luggage. "Are you sure you don't want to spend a few more hours and take my jet? It would save you the hassle."

"Thank you but I'll have to pass." She glances at Laurel before saying, "I'll remember this offer when Laurel and I are trying to go to the Bahamas on a proper vacation."

"I like how you think!" Tommy laughs heartedly and wags his finger at her. "I'll go ahead and put this in the car."

After watching Tommy exit the house with her carryon, Felicity steps into the foyer and notices Laurel's holding a lunch bag. "What's in there?"

"It's for you. I packed some snacks for the trip. I hope you're fine with tangerines and Doritos." Scrunching her nose, Laurel adds, "There's an abundant amount of Doritos in this house."

Felicity smiles knowingly; there are always going to be a plentiful amount of junk food as far as boys are concerned. "Thanks. Now I won't have to spend 15 dollars for a packet of cookies at the airport."

"See? This is how you know how much I care about you," jokes Laurel. She glances at her phone to check the time. "We should go. We don't want to miss your bus."

"Absolutely." Felicity's already printed out her bus and plane ticket (even though she has an electronic copy for both), and they're safely tucked inside her purse. As she steps closer to the door a wave of nostalgia hits her – this is the first time in a long time she's had a break and she's certainly sad to see it go. But for a brief moment Felicity feels this vacation house will be making an appearance in the future. When, she doesn't know, but soon.

Once Felicity steps outside, she notices a black SUV parked next to Tommy's sports car. "Where did this car come from?" She doesn't recall seeing the SUV at all during the weekend.

Leaning against the railing on the porch, Laurel looks a little embarrassed and says, "This car stays in the garage the whole year . . . in case someone needs it."

Translation: Tommy's so rich he can have a car lying around at a vacation home whenever he wants.

"Oh." Translation: what a waste of money.

Laurel clears her throat and walks toward the car as Felicity follows suit, but stops as she sees Tommy and Oliver coming out of the garage. Felicity steps nearer and joins in on the conversation. Tommy says a couple of words to Laurel then focuses his attention on Felicity.

"Before I forget, I put a couple packets of peanuts for you in your suitcase," Tommy says. "In case you –"

"No!"

Tommy steps back because he can't handle both Laurel and Felicity's screeching, whereas Oliver is puzzled and freaked out. Felicity takes a breather and counts backwards from three.

"She's 1000 percent allergic to peanuts. She'll die if she comes near it," Laurel explains.

Felicity nods in agreement. "Totally. So dead even my corpse won't be able to talk."

Eyes slowly widening in horror, Tommy exclaims, "Oh God, I didn't mean to murder you!" He immediately runs to the trunk of the car and loudly unzips the carryon. Crisis averted. Felicity says a quick Thank You to the man upstairs before returning her attention to the present.

With Tommy disposing hazardous materials, there's now an awkward silence between her, Laurel, and Oliver. She can't help but glance at Oliver in his perfect plaid shirt glory, but immediately banishes that thought from her mind. It's still quiet between them – Felicity's mouth is in the process of opening and making the situation even worse when Oliver luckily breaks the silence.

"So . . . Laurel, thank you for inviting me. I appreciate it." He nods tersely and ostentatiously glances at Felicity, which makes her uneasy. Except . . . Is he trying to uphold his end of the bargain from last night?

Laurel visibly brightens. "It's the least I can do. I hope you had fun."

"Yeah, definitely." Oliver continues to look at Felicity as if he's waiting for a sign of encouragement. So he really is trying to fulfill the bargain. Felicity's not sure if she should give him thumbs up or a pat on the back, but she opts for a tiny nod and a discreet hand gesture so he can continue singing praises.

"I had some of Friday's leftovers. The pasta was delicious," he adds while he places a hand on his stomach. "I wish I had it everyday."

Felicity thought Oliver would be the last person on earth to make things uncomfortable, but it seems he's making a run for her money. She gets a sudden urge to laugh out loud, but manages to contain it and not ruin the moment. Still, it's the funniest thing she's seen all weekend.

"You flatter me." Laurel's smile has gotten ten times bigger, and seeing her get complimented is making Felicity happy she talked to Oliver. "But thank you."

"And if you ever need anything in Star City . . . or want some dirt on Tommy, I'll gladly hand it over."

Oh no, now he definitely needs to shut up or he'll make things worse.

Felicity doesn't miss the alarmed look on Laurel's face, or how Oliver's cheeks are turning pink from embarrassment, so she glares at Oliver and shakes her head to stop him. Thankfully, he understands her signal and loudly shuffles his feet to end the awkward conversation.

To Laurel's credit she's still smiling, albeit a little less than she was ten seconds ago. "Duly noted."

Oliver simply nods in acknowledgement as the pink flush on his face slowly subsidizes, but Felicity feels kind of guilty for rubbing off on him. It seems her verbal affliction has contaminated Oliver – then again, perhaps it's a good thing she's not the only one who embarrasses herself.

Sensing the conversation is headed nowhere, Felicity gently says, "We should get going or I'll be late."

"Right." Laurel starts to walk away and waves at Oliver. "We should catch up soon."

"Of course."

Laurel immediately gets inside the SUV while Tommy stands on the driver side, making sure things are fine with the car. Felicity's alone with Oliver now; she's not sure if she should thank him for being nice to Laurel, or give him a gold star for remaining civil. Her instinct is to blurt something out, but once again, Oliver saves the day and suggests, "I'll walk you to the car."

Surprised, Felicity keeps her mouth shut and walks to the SUV, complete with a footstep to boost her up. The car looms over her, and it appears getting into it will be a daunting task, particularly with her heels. Before she can register how to step in, Oliver's large hand grabs the door handle. He's maintaining a decent distance from her – his face looks serious, but she notices how the sun changes his hair color to slightly blonde, and how his eyes are now baby blue.

"Thanks for the advice. And again, I'm sorry about your face."

"That's –"

She can't get another word out as Oliver swiftly opens the door, clearly intending for the conversation to be over. All right . . . As Felicity steps around, she contemplates how to gracefully get in the car without twisting her ankle. Carefully planting her left foot on top of the footstep, Felicity manages to keep her balance. But in that split second she goes to sit on the seat, a warm and calloused hand reaches for hers, and she's not prepared for an odd tingling sensation coursing through her hand. It travels from her fingertips all the way to her toes, her womb tightens, and it circles back up until it disappears. It's an incredible feeling, but the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Her throat closes up, and before she can understand what's happening, the door is shut and she's settled into the car. She robotically buckles herself in, and uninterestedly waves goodbye to Tommy, who's standing alone on the driveway.

The moment loops nonstop in her head, hammering away and refusing to let her go home in peace. She's never felt that sensation before and –

"Ready? You're sure you have everything?"

She snaps out of her daze in just enough time for Laurel not to notice. Plastering a smile on her face, Felicity says, "Yes and yes. I'm definitely ready to go home."

And especially forget what just happened.

His hand burns a good two minutes after she's left. He shakes it to get rid of the feeling, but it's escaped and goes to his chest, where it settles in and blossoms into something else. He doesn't know what's going on, but there's a part of him that welcomes it.

For now.

Chapter Text

Felicity is fortunate enough to make a six-figure salary and afford expensive items, yet no amount of high-end makeup can cover the bump on her cheek and nose. The swelling in surrounding areas have lessened, but the side of her nose is tender as well as the top of her cheekbone. Her injuries have turned into a deep purple color, and despite caking on several layers of concealer it’s impossible to cover up.

She gets to work a little early so she can dodge the stares, but McKenna is already here nursing a cup of coffee in the breakroom. Grunting a “Hello,” Felicity heads straight to the coffee and immediately pours it in her favorite mug.

“Hello to you too.” Leaning against the counter, McKenna eyes Felicity suspiciously. “You don’t look so good.”

“Tell me about it.” After putting the right amount of sugar, Felicity finally faces McKenna and watches her expression go from neutral to shocked.

“Oh my God! What happened?”

She’s itching to spill the gossip to McKenna. “You know how The Hamptons is only a couple of hours away from Metropolis?”

“Yeah so? Get to the point. I want to know why you look like you got run over by a truck.”

A hint of panic hits her – does she really look like that? “Laurel was there with Tommy at his beach house and invited me over.”

McKenna’s eyes go round. “Wow, look at you visiting fancy houses! How was it?”

“All right . . .” She almost blurts Oliver was at the house, but hesitates before venturing further. McKenna is a trusted coworker, except she’s a mutual acquaintance of Oliver’s. Felicity wonders if gossiping to McKenna is a good idea, but McKenna’s continuously proven to be loyal, and most of all, a friend.

Choosing to let McKenna in on the secret, Felicity checks to see if anyone else has come inside and whispers, “Except Oliver Queen was there too.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Gasping, McKenna places a hand over her chest. “Why? When? How?”

Sighing deeply, Felicity takes a sip before explaining further. “Laurel and Tommy invited Oliver to hang out so she could get to know him better.  Let’s just say it wasn’t the best vacation in the world.”

“I don’t doubt it considering you look like . . .” McKenna searches for the right word before waving her hand in Felicity’s direction. “That. Besides, wasn’t it kind of weird having QC’s future CEO is hanging out with you?”

“Right?” Fueled by remembered outrage, Felicity walks out of the kitchen with McKenna in tow. “Laurel and I had a bit of a disagreement about it. If I had said the wrong thing Oliver could’ve had me fired in a second if he wanted to.”

McKenna frowns as she tries to keep up with Felicity. “But you work overtime almost every day, and you’re one of the best consultants QC has to offer. His trust fund might get him everything he wants, but he’s going to need a better reason to fire you.”  

“My thoughts exactly. And I’m trying to get that promotion I’ve been working so hard for.” They finally reach Felicity’s office and she settles in her chair, contemplating for a moment. “Actually, I said a few things that definitely could’ve made me fired, but thankfully it seems like he didn’t take it the wrong way. I think.”

Raising her mug, McKenna toasts, “Here’s to good luck and Oliver being too dense and pretty to realize you’re making fun of him.”

“Hear, hear.” Felicity’s certain he knew she insulted him, especially the comment about being a privileged prep, but surprisingly he took it in stride. “I just hope I don’t have another run in with him. I’m happy for Laurel and Tommy, but that doesn’t mean I have to be best friends with Oliver too.”

“Yeah totally. I would feel weird if I hung out with Oliver like I did before.” McKenna shrugs. “Being adult means being serious.”

“I highly doubt Oliver knows what being an adult means.”

Laughing, McKenna places a hand on her hip and tilts her head. “Aw c’mon, don’t be too harsh. He’s definitely changed. If you think he’s immature now, you should’ve seen him when he was a teenager.”

“I have. On TV, magazines, online . . .” Felicity can’t restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “QC’s board members don’t think Oliver’s getting any more mature, and neither do I.

“Oh my God, you really have it against him, don’t you?”

Felicity sips her coffee through her innocent smile and raises her eyebrows in suggestion. McKenna has no idea.

It’s been a few weeks since vacation – if one would call it that – and the weather significantly warms up as May comes around. Work has been relentless, and it’s prevented Felicity from hanging out with Laurel or any other friends, not to mention her love life is nonexistent. Seeing Laurel go on dates with Tommy makes her feel a little lonely, but she has no one to blame but herself. All she ever wanted was to be successful, but little did she know what a chunk it would take out of her personal life to achieve that goal. Her boss continues to reward her efforts by dumping more projects on top of her already full load, but Felicity swallows her annoyance. She firmly believes this means her boss thinks she can handle it, and she’ll do anything to prove him right to get the promotion she deserves.

As of now, her team is about to have an important meeting with the CEO of Palmer Tech. The entire office is buzzing in excitement and McKenna’s taken out her invisible whip to keep everyone in line. Neither Felicity nor her boss are aware of what Ray Palmer wants, but it’ll surely be interesting. She heard through the grapevine Walter Steele is thinking about approving whatever Ray has planned, so the meeting is probably an informational one.

She’s paid attention to Palmer Tech over the years; they tried to recruit her when she graduated from MIT, but they were fairly new to the business world, which made Felicity a little uneasy and worried what might happen if Palmer Tech failed. When a blue-chip company came knocking on her door, Felicity couldn’t resist and took the job at QC. Palmer Tech has certainly made an impression with their affordable green technology and improvements in the health industry, though, as Ray Palmer has made a conscious effort to combine philanthropy with business. Felicity admires his tenacity and his ventures have proven to be profitable.

The meeting is supposed to happen at half past ten, and although everyone is already seated and anxiously waiting, Ray Palmer is nowhere to be seen. McKenna ordered decadent sandwiches from an expensive restaurant but some of them have gone cold, as no one has made a move to touch them. Her boss, Nathan, is flipping his pen back and forth, and the clock ticks loudly as each second passes by.

Suddenly, they hear voices coming through the hallway – Felicity recognizes McKenna's and she assumes the deeper, manly voice is Mr. Palmer’s. Everyone in the conference room looks at each other with excitement, and Felicity would be lying if she didn’t feel a little nervous as well. It’s not an everyday occurrence she gets to be in the presence of CEOs.

The door opens and the entire room is greeted with a booming “Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late!”

Felicity’s taken aback by Mr. Palmer’s ebullient presence. He’s ungodly tall and is too cheerful for a multi-millionaire, and the moment he sees everyone he clasps his hands while grinning. Huh.

“Welcome to Queen Consolidated, Mr. Palmer.” Nathan shakes his hand. “Please, have a seat.”

Ray happily sits down at the front of the table. “I got held up at the office – well, more like I lost track of time. Sometimes I get a little . . .” He points to his head and makes a gesture indicating he can get spacy on occasion. Felicity glances over at her coworker who’s just as perturbed as she is. Ray’s possibly the most eccentric person she’s ever met.

Nathan appears to be thrown off by Ray but he soldiers on. He introduces everyone in the room, and when he finishes he asks, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“As I’m sure you all know, I’ve made it my personal mission to create a better tomorrow, whether it’s through cleaner technology or helping the poor get the care they deserve. Although Palmer Tech isn’t publicly traded, we’ve managed to expand in areas I never thought we could get into with meager funds.” He pauses and shrugs. “I guess people shouldn’t underestimate me.”

Everyone cracks a tiny smile at his comment – it’s common knowledge that Ray has made a name for himself for charging forward through any project, regardless if his funding is a hundred dollars or ten million. “The thing is, Palmer Tech is trying to branch out into new territory, but we need help. My benefactor Mr. Hunter – Rip Hunter, I owe him everything, he really is an amazing guy – has funneled a lot of money into Palmer Tech, but I think it would be beneficial to work with other companies. To show solidarity. And because Queen Consolidated has things I don’t have.”

“What exactly does QC have that you don’t?” Nathan asks.

Ray smirks. “The kind of nano technology that’s being secretly developed at QC.”

A hush falls over the entire conference room, because as far as everyone is concerned it doesn’t exist, at least not publicly.

“That’s . . . part of Applied Sciences,” Felicity blurts out. Nathan shoots a wary look at her but she can’t stop herself. “Why would you need us?”

Banging his hand on the table, which causes everyone to flinch, Ray eagerly says, “I need your to help create technology that’s small enough to be injected inside a human, but smart enough to eat away tumors – big or small, malignant or benign – anywhere in the body.”

Oh my. This is going to be a long meeting.

As Felicity closes her notebook and folder away, she realizes all the sandwiches are gone and groans at the new development. Since the meeting, which was filled with plenty of geek talk and impossibilities, lasted two long and arduous hours, everyone scrambled to go outside for lunch or quickly catch up on work. What Ray’s asking is going to be extremely hard to develop, and QC’s IT department will have to work with several other departments – including people at Palmer Tech – to get the ball rolling. This is a tall order.

Just as Felicity gathers enough strength to get up, Ray comes inside the conference room and makes a beeline for her. From this vantage point, he’s even taller than he was two hours ago. He’s grinning widely as he comes closer, and Felicity’s eyes focus on his perfectly tailored suit, which accentuates his impressive frame.

“It’s been awhile, Ms. Smoak.”

“You remember me?” It’s been a little over three years since she was contacted from Palmer Tech, so she’s slightly surprised that he recalls her name. Even though she politely declined their offer, Felicity hopes he doesn’t hold a grudge against her.

“Of course! You’re one of the brightest people to come out of MIT. In fact, you’re the brightest one who ever got away. Why wouldn’t I remember?”

Her skin heats up in pride, and also because she’s still getting used to people complimenting her, even if it’s coming from the CEO of Palmer Tech. “Wow, thank you.”

Ray smiles again and Felicity can’t stop herself from doing so – it’s infectious. “Well, I wanted to drop by and say hi, and to say I’m looking forward to working with you.” He sticks out his hand and Felicity goes to firmly shake it.

“As do I.” Perhaps not as enthusiastically as he seems to be, but he doesn’t need to know that.  

It’s uncommon for Felicity to get home before eight, but today is different – she manages to come home by six, which gives her time to unwind with a glass of wine before hitting the sheets. Today wasn’t particularly tiring, but the office couldn’t stop talking about Palmer’s proposal. She and her team haven’t even touched on the basics, which will no doubt take a long time to get through.

Sighing loudly, Felicity drops her bag and collapses on the couch, soaking in a few precious seconds of silence. Just then, Laurel comes barging into the living room and breaks her moment of peace.

“Wow, you’re here early.”

“Trust me, I’m shocked too.” Felicity closes her eyes. “Ray Palmer came into our office so everyone was too wound up to work today.”

“Wait, the Ray Palmer? CEO of Palmer Tech?” Curious by office gossip, Laurel sits down next to Felicity to hear more. “What was he doing at QC?”

Taking off her shoes, Felicity begins to rub her aching heels as she explains Ray’s proposal. “He basically wants to create a machine small enough to be inserted into someone’s body that can eat away tumors. “ She sighs. “I know it’s going to be an amazing piece of technology, but it seems a little improbable to me, and I’m usually all for impossible challenges.”

Nodding seriously, Laurel says, “Yeah. Who can forget your wannabe hacktivist phase in college?”

Felicity glares at Laurel, because it’s understood that no one talks about her hacktivist phase, especially in her presence. “Anyway, he said he’s aiming for a five-year timeframe, which is possible. But given the fact that we’re going to work with Palmer Tech and this project is basically starting from scratch, it looks like it’ll take more than that.”

Laurel leans back on the couch in awe. “He must be really confident in himself if he thinks QC and Palmer Tech can pull it off in a short amount of time.”

“Tell me about it. Enough about work, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out with Tommy?”

“OK, I have other things to do besides hanging out with Tommy.” When Felicity raises  eyebrow, Laurel sighs. “Fine. I just thought . . . it would be nice for us to hang out tonight. Tommy’s already taken up so much of my time. I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

“If anything, I’ve neglected you with all the overtime I’ve worked lately.” While it’s true Laurel’s been spending most of her time with Tommy, Felicity can’t blame her for doing so. Work’s gotten unbearable, which is causing Felicity to limit the amount of time she spends with Laurel. But if it’s what she has to do in order to get her promotion, she’ll have to trudge through mountains of work for a few more months.

Placing a hand on Laurel’s thigh, Felicity looks at her and smiles tiredly. “Besides, I’m the one who can’t say no to a project and wants that promotion so bad. I promise we’ll hang out –”

A loud knock interrupts Felicity midsentence and makes them both flinch. Their apartment building has a front desk, so for someone to knock without the doorman calling beforehand is odd. Laurel cautiously stands up and goes to the door, peeking through the eyehole before groaning loudly.

The door swings wide open and reveals none other than Sara Lance, Laurel’s baby sister. “Surprise!” Dropping her bags in the hallway, she leaps into Laurel’s arms and hugs her tightly. “I missed you so much!”

Laurel hugs Sara back, but when she disentangles herself from Sara, she looks at her in confusion and asks, “What are you doing here?”

Pointedly ignoring Laurel’s question, Sara’s eyes widen when she spots Felicity. “Felicity!” She runs straight to Felicity and jumps on top of her, trapping her in a hug. “I missed you too!”

Felicity catches Laurel’s eye and silently screams for help, but Laurel only shrugs back. Sara has a thing for abruptly coming into their lives with no warning. Usually, she would visit if she had issues at college, didn’t want to spend time with her parents, or worse, needed a place to crash after a long night of partying. Although Felicity doesn’t mind Sara popping in from time to time, her antics tended to put Laurel in a foul mood and placed Felicity in an awkward position.  Laurel always wanted Felicity to back her up and police Sara, whereas Sara relied on Felicity to constantly mediate any arguments between the two. She loves them both, but their disagreements put a damper on everything.

“Sara, I’m so glad you’re here.” She removes herself from Sara’s embrace and takes in her appearance. Sara’s hair has gotten a little longer and brighter, but the cheerful smile permanently glued to her face is the same. Felicity would be lying if she said she hadn’t missed her, too.

“Ugh, tell me about it. I need a bottle of NyQuil, Netflix and sixteen hours of sleep, stat.” Sara settles on the couch and looks at Laurel. “Why don’t you sit over here?”

Folding her arms in front of her chest, Laurel continues to cross-examine Sara. “Don’t you have finals coming up since it’s the beginning of May?”

“Oh, I’m finished!”

Felicity and Laurel glance at each other, as they don’t necessarily believe her. Noticing the exchange, Sara scoffs. “My professors decided to hand out exams a week early, and since I’m taking two online classes, I don’t have to think about them until next week. Don’t worry, I’m not skipping out on anything.”

Felicity knows it's almost unheard of for a college to let students take final exams for a class online unless it's an essay.  Either Sara is lying or her professors aren’t aware of people copying and pasting questions into Google. Rather than raise any more questions that could potentially start an argument between Laurel and Sara, Felicity clasps her hands together and proposes, “Why don’t we all go out to eat? I heard about a new Mexican restaurant that opened up.”

Sara squeals at the idea while Laurel appears ready to pull her hair out. Here’s to hoping they don’t pull out each other’s, Felicity thinks.

The restaurant is slightly full for a Wednesday night, but their hostess found a nice spot tucked away from the rush. Sara’s been chatting nonstop about college, boys and working as a bartender, the last of which causes Laurel to express some surprise. There seems to be no shortage of drama in her life, but Felicity doesn’t mind hearing about it. Sara’s never afraid of taking the plunge, a trait Felicity admires.

Lips pursed, Sara flips through the menu. “Hmm . . . I think I’m going to get appetizers first. Did you guys want anything in particular?”

Laurel raises an inquisitive eyebrow at Sara. “Am I going to have to pay for your dinner?”

“Well no, since I’m the one with a job and you’re still unemployed.” Ignoring Laurel’s grimace, Sara adds, “I want to treat everyone tonight! Bartending is by no means a glamorous job, but the tips are insane. So. Dinner’s on me.”

“Thanks, Sara.” Sara seems unperturbed by Laurel’s behavior, but Felicity knows Laurel is going to vent to her once they get back to the apartment, which she’s not necessarily looking forward to.

Out of the corner of her eye Felicity spots their waiter coming up to them. As he approaches their table, Felicity feasts her eyes on his appearance – he’s undeniably hot with a lean body and a jaw that could slice the universe. His presence is probably setting hearts on fire all over this restaurant.

“Hey ladies, how are you doing this evening?” His voice is deep, husky, and he stands tall and confident. Placing chips and salsa in the middle of the table, he takes out a notebook and pen to write down their orders. “My name’s Roy and I’ll be your waiter tonight. What can I get you to drink?”

Sara has the advantage of her back facing Roy, so she takes the opportunity to ostentatiously wiggle her eyebrows and mouths He’s so hot!

Felicity does her best to keep a straight face although Sara’s making it hard to do so. “I’ll have a glass of pinot noir.” She smiles at Roy and he returns the gesture in kind, making her heart warm slightly.

He focuses his attention to Laurel, waiting for her order. “I’ll have a margarita,” she says, not bothering to spare Roy another glance. Typically in the presence of delicious men, Felicity and Laurel would giggle and gossip about them the entire night. It appears Laurel’s disinterest in Roy has her thinking Tommy has her undivided attention, without or without him actually being here. Huh . Laurel’s definitely come a long way since her first encounter with Tommy.

Roy jots down their drink order and finally faces Sara. “What about you, miss?”

She ponders for a moment. “I think I’ll stick with a Coke or Pepsi.”

“Great. I’ll be right back.”

Once he’s out of earshot, Sara leans forward as she practically bounces in her seat. “Talk about a hottie! Felicity, thank you for bringing us here.” She theatrically fans herself and Felicity laughs at her antics. Sara has always been fun to hang out with.

“Trust me, if I had known about him I would’ve visited sooner.”

“Sara, do mom and dad know you’re here?”

And here comes the Laurel Inquisition.

Laurel’s ill-timed question casts a storm cloud on the cheerful atmosphere, causing Sara to slightly squirm in her seat.

“I mean . . .”

“Sara, you can’t drop by in the middle of finals week and expect me to keep my mouth shut.” Sighing, Laurel reaches for a chip and takes a bite out of it. “Look, I don’t mind when you come by, but you can’t do it unannounced and not tell mom and dad you’re back.”

Sensing things are going to get awkward fast, Felicity tries to ease the tension. “I don’t mind that you’re here.”

Sending her an annoyed glance, Laurel focuses her attention back to Sara. “So? Are you going to tell them or should I?”

Groaning, Sara also reaches for a chip and angrily takes a bite. “I decided not to tell mom and dad I’m back because they would ask a whole bunch of questions, and I really needed to get away from school. And like I said, I’ve already taken most of my exams except for my online courses. I promise I’ll let them know once I’m finished.”

Before Laurel says anything else, Tommy appears in Felicity’s line of sight with Oliver in tow. He waves excitedly then tugs on Oliver’s arm, beckoning him to come over. Oh God no, please don’t . Desperate to keep Oliver at bay, Felicity quickly removes her gaze from them. Placing a hand over her eyes, she tilts her head toward Laurel and Sara, and tries to convey through her body language the guys should take themselves elsewhere. She doesn’t necessarily mind Tommy, but Oliver is another issue in itself. Although Felicity hasn’t interacted with Oliver since vacation, she still hasn’t forgotten about him hitting her in the face, nor has she forgotten the subsequent bruising that happened afterwards.

As Felicity tries to ignore Tommy and Oliver’s inevitable approach, Laurel suddenly spots them coming over. For a moment a look of panic washes over her face, and it hits Felicity that Laurel hasn’t told Sara or her parents that she’s been dating the Tommy Merlyn. Keeping her mouth shut, Felicity sits perfectly still and tries not giving anything away to Sara.

Alas, the two approach their table, but to Tommy’s credit he keeps his distance and doesn’t go in for a kiss. “Hey Laurel, Felicity.” He’s dressed in a sharp suit jacket and jeans, while Oliver’s wearing a grey suit that’s fitted to perfection. The stubble on his jaw and neck has slightly grown from the last time Felicity saw him, but it only highlights his eyes and makes him to appear older and mature. His eyes briefly touch on Felicity’s, to which she can immediately feel her face flush out of her own accord. Hoping her unease will subside if she’s not looking at him, she turns her attention to Sara, who’s so awestruck she’s speechless.

“Hey Tommy and Oliver. What are you guys doing here?” Laurel shifts uncomfortably in her seat, whereas Sara’s quiet as she watches with rapt attention.

Tommy fidgets and swallows audibly at Laurel's reaction. “Uh, Oliver and I were grabbing a quick dinner. It’s the first time we’ve been here. Is it any good?”

“It’s our first time here, too.” Felicity says, hoping if she steps in, Laurel won't have to explain further. “By the way this is Laurel’s sister, Sara. She’s visiting us for the next week.”

“That’s great! Nice to meet you, Sara.” Sara nervously shakes hands with Tommy and grins widely.

“Nice to meet you, too.” From Sara's star-struck look, Felicity bets she’s screaming internally and won’t stop asking questions when they’re gone. “And this must be Oliver Queen?”

Oliver smiles politely. “The one and only.”

Sara giggles and bats her eyelashes at him. He smirks at her, no doubt playing the flirting game as well, and for a brief moment a flash of irritation hits Felicity. Flirting with a twenty-one year old should embarrass Oliver, but clearly he’ll do anything to garner attention. Restraining herself from ostentatiously rolling her eyes and giving Oliver another opportunity to potentially fire her, Felicity pulls her phone from her purse and checks for any texts and emails. Unfortunately, she can’t pretend to be busy because she has no emails or texts from anyone. Quietly sighing in resignation, she returns her attention back to the conversation.

“Well, Oliver and I wanted to –”

“Ladies, are you ready to order?” Roy quickly approaches their table with their drinks in hand, but after seeing Tommy and Oliver he slows his steps and his face pales at the sight of them. Upon hearing Roy, Oliver and Tommy turn to face the waiter, but their reactions are vastly different – Tommy’s smile is effectively wiped from his lips, while Oliver’s shoulder contract and his fingers twitch, curling into a fist as his eyes burn with dangerous intent.

Whoa.

Laurel and Sara are oblivious to the small scene, and Tommy takes advantage of their ignorance. He quickly turns away from Roy and mumbles “We’ll see you later” to their table, while placing a hand on Oliver’s chest. But Oliver doesn’t move an inch – he’s fixated on Roy as he fidgets under Oliver’s gaze. At this point, Laurel and Sara are starting to catch on that this exchange might be something more.

“Oliver, come on. There’s nothing here,” Tommy quietly urges.

Clenching his jaw, Oliver takes one step back and turns robotically, giving Felicity a good look at him. His face is completely stoic, but his eyes are conveying something entirely different. It almost scares her how detached yet furious he appears. This is a side of Oliver Queen few have probably seen, and there’s a part of her wishing she hadn’t.

After an agonizing second, Tommy gently pushes Oliver forward to start moving along. Oliver doesn’t say another word to them as he steps away, but Tommy tries to soften the blow by nodding at them to acknowledge their presence, then chasing after his friend without another thought. To Roy’s credit, he bows his head and soldiers on, shakily coming to their table and pretending nothing occurred.

“Have you decided on what you want to eat?” His eyes keep flickering at Tommy and Oliver’s general direction – his bravado has disappeared, and his hands slightly tremble as he places their drinks on the table.

Sara glances at Laurel and Felicity before saying, “I think we might need a few more minutes. Thanks.”

Clearing his throat, Roy nods and quickly leaves them without another word. Once he’s moved far away, Sara loudly whispers, “What the hell was all that about? And when did you start dating Tommy Merlyn?!”

Affronted, Laurel scoffs and tries to brush it off. “I-I’m not dating Tommy Merlyn. Where did you even get the idea?”

“I’m not stupid. I saw the way he was looking at you, and how you completely ignored McHottie, which is pretty hard to do if you ask me. C’mon, spill the details!” Sara props an elbow on the table and waits for Laurel to open up. Unable to keep a straight face, Laurel flushes and shyly looks down, to which Sara claps her hands in delight. “I knew it! Why didn’t I know sooner?”

“I . . . didn’t know how you, mom and dad would react to me dating Tommy. And anyway, it’s not like – we’re not getting married anytime soon. It’s just casual. It’s totally casual dating.”

Felicity snorts so loud that a waitress passing them by actually stops for a moment. “It’s definitely not casual. Sara, you should see her when she’s getting ready for a date. It’s practically a fashion show.”

She doesn’t know why Laurel is unwilling to admit that she and Tommy are more than casually dating. Felicity thought after the vacation Laurel was willing to be more open about her relationship with Tommy. Perhaps she’s afraid of what her family will think of Tommy, and Felicity doesn’t blame her. Laurel knows a side of Tommy that very few people are aware of, but obviously Sara and Mr. and Mrs. Lance don’t know him that way. If she truly cares about him, then she’ll open up. Eventually.

Sara laughs. “I don’t doubt it.” Addressing Laurel a little more seriously, she says, “Look, there’s no reason for you to be ashamed of dating Tommy. You know what you’re doing. Mom and dad have no reason not to trust your decisions. And if it is that serious with you and Tommy, then I’m really happy for you.”

Softening after her remark, Laurel relaxes by tenfold and smiles. “Thanks, Sara. I appreciate it.”

Proud of Laurel for being honest with herself and Sara, Felicity lets the two catch up on Tommy Merlyn and how amazing he is, while she throws in commentary when need be. Although Laurel and Sara may have forgotten the intense exchange between Roy, Tommy and Oliver, Felicity can’t stop thinking about it. There has to be more than what they saw, and she intends to find out.

After a somewhat successful dinner, Felicity’s all tucked in bed and ready to shut the lights when Laurel softly opens her door and tiptoes in.

“What’s going on?” Felicity asks.

Waving her hand, Laurel sighs and sits at the edge of her bed. “Nothing serious. I wanted to talk to you about Sara’s situation.”

Frowning, Felicity sits up on her bed and puts on her glasses. “What about it?”

“I know she has a tendency to drop in unexpectedly, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to welcome her in every time.” Toying with the drawstrings on her pajamas, Laurel purses her lips and hesitates for a moment. “If she’s inconveniencing you, let me know. I promise I won’t be upset, and I’ll explain it to Sara without mentioning your name.”

This is unexpected. Although Laurel may seem to be annoyed by Sara’s random appearances, Felicity’s doesn’t mind Sara staying with them. Sara keeps to herself most of the time, and barely asks Felicity for any help or favors. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have a younger sibling, but Sara is as close as she’ll get to one, and Felicity really enjoys her company.

“Laurel, I don’t care when Sara drops in like this.” She scoots a little closer so she’s not saying anything loud enough for Sara to hear. “She’s pretty low maintenance, and it’s not like she lives her for months without paying rent.” Deciding now may be the best time to broach this topic, Felicity asks, “Why do you always feel like she’s bothering me?”

Clearly uncomfortable by Felicity’s question, Laurel shifts and sighs exasperatedly. “It’s just . . . she comes in and creates a storm, then leaves and thinks she can pick up right where she left off. Sara takes no responsibility for anything, and I’m always cleaning up her mess. It’s tiring.”

Oh. Despite being extremely close to Laurel and the Lance family, Felicity doesn’t meddle in their personal affairs and actively tries not to be a part of it. She’s not blind, though – Felicity’s seen the way Quentin and Dinah, Laurel’s parents, have started drifting apart these past few years. And Sara does have a habit of coming in then running away, blowing through their lives and leaving everyone else with the wreckage, thus making Laurel quietly resent Sara even more. Felicity never commented on Laurel’s familial relationships because it wasn’t in her place to do so, and it didn’t directly affect Felicity.

“Look, I . . . can see your relationship with Sara might not be the best thing in the world. I get it. But just because she’s a hindrance to you doesn’t mean it’s the same for me. I’m fine with her being here, but if you have an issue with her, then I understand.” Laurel is cautiously watching her, waiting for what she’ll say next. “If you don’t want her to come here anymore, I won’t prevent you from doing so.”

It’s quiet for a moment when abruptly Laurel gets teary-eyed, which alarms Felicity and causes her to grab a hold of Laurel’s hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Shaking her head, Laurel takes an unsteady breath. “I . . . feel guilty for not wanting to have her here, and at the same time I’m mad at myself for letting this get to me. We’re sisters. I love her.” Upset by her conflicted feelings, she glances down at her hands in humiliation. “But all I can think about is how much her presence is inconveniencing me.”

“Laurel,” Felicity begins, tightening her hold on Laurel’s hand. Ashamed by her confession, Laurel refuses to look at her. “It’s OK for you to feel this way.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It absolutely is. You’ve worked hard to get to where you’re at –”

“Unemployed with a useless law degree?”

Now that stops Felicity in her tracks. “Well, if you put it that way ...”

Laurel scoffs and inhales deeply. “Besides, I have no room to talk. Dad helps me pay rent, so she has every reason to come by. I’ve barely started my life and I’m already trying to lay claim on it, and prevent people from touching it.”

It’s true Laurel’s hardly started her official adult life and has consistently sacrificed herself for her family, but Felicity thinks Laurel may be feeling this way because of Tommy and his growing presence in her life. Whether or not Laurel admits it, Felicity feels he’s definitely here to stay, or at least make a lasting impression. It makes sense why Laurel doesn’t want her family to get involved and would prefer to devote most of her time and attention to Tommy, rather than worry about picking Sara up at a bar at three in the morning and her parents' conflict on how to handle her.

“Hey, listen,” she says softly. Hesitantly, Laurel looks at her with frustrated tears still brimming her eyes. “You think any of this has to do with Tommy and not wanting your family’s issues to get involved with your relationship?”

Laurel's eyes widen in shock.  “Oh my God. I think . . . you’re totally right.”

“See? There’s absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.”

Laurel looks off into the distance as if processing her thoughts. “I didn’t realize it until now. I mean, yeah, families can be a pain in the butt, but I hadn’t realized how much I want to be with Tommy. And how much I want this to be for me.”

She continues to space out as she sorts through her epiphany, but Felicity’s mind is reeling. Laurel admitted she wants to be with Tommy, and if that’s not a big step forward she doesn’t know what is. For so long Laurel held back on relationships and the possibility of love that she didn’t know she found it already.

Watching Laurel realize she’s falling for Tommy only causes Felicity to ache for a semblance of what she’s feeling, but the moment is easily swept away as fast as it came.

It’s Friday afternoon now, and Felicity’s anxious to go home even though she promised to hang out with McKenna with a night of greasy food and good beer. She asked Laurel if she wanted to join, but Laurel decided against it and wanted to work on job applications, something she’s neglected as of late.   

She’s heading back to work after picking up sushi from her favorite Japanese restaurant. After glancing at her phone and realizing she’s cutting it close, Felicity quickens her pace so she won’t be late for work. She’s nearly five blocks away from work, and with her heels she’s not sure if she’ll make it back on time.

Felicity’s in such a hurry that she doesn’t realize she’s in the same vicinity as the restaurant she visited with Laurel and Sara on Wednesday. Slowing her stride, Felicity’s inner detective itches to go inside and see if Roy is working to potentially ask him what’s between him and Oliver. Of course, whatever happened is none of her business, but their confrontation is a mystery that needs to be solved.

As luck would have it, Roy is standing outside working on the sign in front of the place. The restaurant is packed for lunch, but Roy seems in no hurry to finish his job. Slowly, Felicity nears Roy but keeps her distance – she hardly knows him and there’s a chance he may have forgotten her.

He looks up once she’s gotten a little closer and smiles instantly. “Hi again. Coming here for lunch? The fish tacos are amazing by the way.” His grin widens, showcasing his pearly whites. He’s wearing an all-black uniform with a fitted collared shirt – it looks good on him.

Felicity laughs softly and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “No, not today. I might come back for the tacos, though. They sound good.”

“I promise they’re delicious.” He’s amped up the charm factor now, which is a far cry from his scared demeanor after bumping into Oliver. “I could even get you a discount if you need one.”

“No, that’s OK. I already picked up my lunch.” She dangles the sushi bag in front of him.

Roy frowns. “That’s it, you’re not allowed in here ever again.”

He’s cute and witty. “Now that’s just bad customer service.”

“Is it? Maybe you’re the bad customer who betrayed the best restaurant in the world.  You’re breaking hearts everywhere, Miss . . .“ Roy shoves his hands in his pockets and shyly looks at her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Felicity. Felicity Smoak.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Felicity Smoak. I’m surprised you didn’t add 007 after that,” he teases.

“I wish I could, because that would mean I wouldn’t have to work at my extremely tiring job.”

Roy's eyes widen. “Well that’s no fun. Where do you work?”

“Queen Consolidated as an IT consultant and researcher.” At the mention of QC Roy’s face goes from interested to neutral, and the change doesn’t escape Felicity’s notice. Now might be the perfect time to ask him some questions.

“That’s . . . great.”

He’s become a little sullen now, but Felicity intends to get her information. “So, have you known Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn? I don’t know, it’s just – the other night I thought maybe you knew him . . .” She chooses not to press anymore because it would undoubtedly be obvious she’s digging around.

Roy gives a nervous laugh and shuffles his feet. “You noticed that, huh?”

“It was kind of hard not to.”

He nods and chews the inside of his cheek. “I know the whole world loves Oliver, but he’s not who he claims to be.”

Her ears perk up because this is not what she thought she would hear. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Roy doesn’t explain further, but Felicity’s dying to know the juicy gossip. “If I were to guess, you’re probably not the only one who hasn’t had a good experience with Oliver.”

Curious at the new development, Roy tilts his head to the side and peers at her. “Oh? Would I be wrong in assuming you haven’t had a good experience?”

Her first instinct is to nod her head in agreement, but she hesitates for a moment. Although Oliver Queen isn’t her best friend and his manners are reprehensible, he hasn’t directly treated her horribly. Felicity doesn’t hate him but he’s certainly not her favorite person. There’s a part of her that feels immature and cold for seeking out dirt on Oliver. The incident at the restaurant is a mystery that needs to be solved, Felicity justifies, but is it worth stooping to a new low just to find a reason to hate Oliver?

“Not really.”

That seems to have sealed the deal because Roy steps closer, expression clouding. “I used to work for Oliver’s family, actually.”

“Oh, wow.” Felicity’s totally surprised by this reveal – the chances of meeting a former employee of the Queens are slim to none. “For how long?”

He runs an agitated hand through his hair and sighs. “My dad actually worked for them as a gardener. As a kid I would tag along with him. He was pretty close to Robert Queen, and when I was younger, Oliver and I would play all the time. Sometimes Tommy would join.

“My dad ended up getting heart problems and couldn’t work as a gardener, so I took over. In the months leading up to his death, Robert Queen watched out for me like my father would. Some people would say even more so than his actual son, but he cared for us both. A lot. When dad died Robert paid for the funeral expenses and promised the gardening job to me for as long as I wanted it. He even offered to pay for my college tuition, which he ended up doing.”

“That was really nice of him,” Felicity says softly. She can tell how much Robert Queen meant to Roy.

“Yeah, it was. But when Robert died . . . Oliver took it as an opportunity to flip the switch. He stopped paying for my college tuition with some excuse of not being able to afford it, which was clearly bullshit since he’s a billionaire. Then around the same time my mom got sick with cancer, but he . . . fired me and left me with no job and zero money to pay for mom’s treatment. When she died I had no one left and Oliver could care less. After that, I kept working odd jobs to make ends meet.  Pretty crappy situation, right?”

For once in her life Felicity’s rendered speechless. What kind of man takes advantage of a person in need? Oliver let his jealousy ruin Roy’s life, and if that doesn’t make him the biggest piece of shit ever then she doesn’t know what does. She’s glad she got a chance to speak with Roy – whatever neutral feelings Felicity may have had for Oliver have absolutely vanished, because he’s proven himself undeserving of anything, particularly her attention. She can’t believe Oliver would do something like that, especially that he denied aid to Roy’s sick mother who could’ve benefitted from treatment. There’s a special place in hell for people who put greed above all else, and Oliver Queen takes the top spot.

“No, it’s not crappy. It’s unfair.”

As far as she’s concerned, Oliver Queen is nothing to her and deserves every horrible thing that happens to him.

Chapter Text

The rest of Felicity’s day passes by with no fanfare, but she can’t stop thinking about her conversation with Roy. She can’t focus on her work, and for the first time in ages Felicity leaves the office early. Racing back to the apartment, Felicity throws her bag on the floor and heads straight for her laptop. After getting onto a secure connection all the way from Estonia – better safe than sorry – Felicity immediately begins to dig on Roy Harper.

She finds his basic information: age, date of birth, his Social Security, and his places of employment. There’s not much information on his father, but she finds a small newspaper mention about David Harper’s exceptional gardening skills. He’s pictured next to Robert Queen at the Queen Mansion and the article goes on to explain how impeccable the gardens are, all thanks to David. 

It’s a little harder to gather information on Roy’s mother – she found Roy’s birth certificate and searches for anyone named Harper undergoing chemo treatment in the hospitals around Star City, but comes up short. Perhaps Roy’s mother never had a chance to even start her chemotherapy, which is why she’s not showing up on hospital records. Felicity continues to dig into Roy’s mother, but it appears her and David were divorced or she changed her last name, because Felicity can’t find any mention of her.  

Rubbing the nape of her neck, Felicity decides to stop researching Roy and his mother as she’s already found enough information on him. Closing her laptop, Felicity replays the conversation with Roy once more and sighs in exasperation. She suspected Oliver had some skeletons in his closet but this takes the cake.  

Everything Roy said checks out, at least for now. But Felicity has a bit of a dilemma in her hands, and she’s torn between mentioning this to other people or keeping it to herself. A man like Oliver, who lets a poor woman die for his own selfish reasons, doesn’t deserve to be CFO let alone have the lifestyle he has. Anger simmers at the pit of her stomach, causing her to grit her teeth and curl her fists. As far as she’s concerned Oliver Queen is evil.

She suddenly hears the lock turning and gets up to help Laurel open the door. Good thing she did because Laurel’s carrying several bags of groceries, and the look of relief that washes over Laurel’s face causes Felicity to laugh.

“Didn’t realize you went on a shopping spree.” She gathers three bags and holds the door open for Laurel, who’s carrying four bags herself and kicks another inside the apartment.

Sighing, Laurel heads straight to the kitchen and dumps the bags on the counter. “I know, I went a little crazy.”

Felicity brings the bags over and peers through a couple. She sees regular items like coffee, salt and some fruit, but the other bags contain fresh meat, several spices, and jars of sauce. “Do you plan on having a Top Chef showdown in our kitchen?

“Not exactly. I’m planning on making dinner for Tommy.” 

“Wow, look at you being the perfect girlfriend.” She smiles – Laurel’s making a lot of effort and she’s proud of her for doing so. “What do you plan on making?”

“Well, Tommy mentioned he loves Indian food, but . . .” She gestures at the bags and grimaces. “I think I might do something simpler.”

“Good thing I’m not cooking. The whole building would burn down.” 

“I don’t doubt that.”

They both smile knowingly while Laurel begins to take out items from the bags. “Hey, I know this is your apartment too, but would you mind if . . .” Laurel looks at her a little guiltily, and Felicity catches on to what she’s trying to say.

“Yeah, no problem. I was planning on meeting McKenna for an early dinner anyway, but I can stretch that out for your date with Tommy.”

“Thank you so much, Felicity. I hate to kick you out . . .”

She waves her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Does Sara know about this?” Come to think of it, Felicity hadn’t realized Sara didn’t show up when she came home from work. “By the way, where is she?”

Laurel stops taking out items and leans against the counter, her eyes distant. “She’s at mom and dad’s. She said she missed them and wanted to finish her exams at home.”

Felicity frowns. “But a couple of days ago she was adamant about not going home? I hope I didn’t scare her off.”

“Oh please, you know it’s not that,” Laurel says with anger lacing her words. She goes back to taking out the rest of the items, loudly placing them in the appropriate cabinets. “She likes to come and go whenever she wants and pretend like she didn’t cause a shitstorm.”

Someone’s upset. After their conversation on Wednesday night, Felicity thought Laurel was fine with Sara staying with them, but she understands why Laurel’s frustrated. Having a sibling that takes zero responsibility for their actions must be tiresome, or so Felicity thinks since she doesn’t have one of her own.

Not wanting to continue talking about Sara’s antics and sensing Laurel’s looking for a reason to lash out, Felicity smacks her hands on the counter and says, “Okay, well, I’m going to go ahead and freshen up. Let me know if you need anything.”

Laurel hums in response and Felicity heads to her room, intending to rid herself of the drama with beer and carbs.

The bar is a bit full tonight, but after having a couple of drinks and playing a very bad round of pool, Felicity’s loosened up just enough to relax. McKenna naturally beat her in the first couple of rounds but Felicity doesn’t dare give up. She’ll catch up to her within the next few hours.

It’s Felicity’s turn now, and as she gets ready to hit the ball she asks, “Do you think you can let me win this time?”

Snorting, McKenna leans against the table and smirks. “Your desperation is giving me life.” 

“Seriously?” Felicity narrows her eyes at McKenna but it doesn’t faze her.

“Seriously. I’m having way too much fun watching you lose.”

Grumbling, Felicity mutters “Just you wait” only to completely miss the mark. She sighs and shakes her head, because admitting defeat isn’t her strong suit.

“I’m convinced there’s too much friction on the table. And maybe the balls were oiled before we started playing, which is why I keep missing.”

“Oh please, Smoak. Your physics talk won’t help you here,” McKenna teases. Felicity laughs, because it even sounds silly to her. “You have to have skill, which you seem to be lacking.”

“McKenna, your trash talk is actually hurting me.”

Felicity pokes her stick against McKenna’s rib in order to ruin her turn, but McKenna smacks it away, causing Felicity to giggle. Hanging out with McKenna is always a fun affair, filled with laughter and opportunities to let loose.

McKenna grins then leans forward, getting ready to strike. She almost takes the shot but hesitates. Sighing, she stands straight and says gravely, “I have to tell you something." 

Taking a sip from her beer – naturally, she would prefer a glass of wine, but it didn’t seem appropriate for this occasion – Felicity tilts her head, wondering what it could be. “Okay?” Typically McKenna wasn’t one for serious conversations but this sounds important.

She purses her lips and avoids looking at Felicity, her mannerisms causing Felicity to be worried. “Is everything all right?”

McKenna waves off her concerns, clicking her tongue as she does so. “Yeah. I’m just beginning to realize how big of a deal it is, though.”

“Hey, if you need time to process it . . .” Although she’s eager to know what’s bothering McKenna, she doesn’t want to pressure her friend when she’s clearly not ready. “You know I’ll be here when you feel like telling me.”

“Okay, fine.” Taking a deep breath, she toys with her cue stick and shyly glances at Felicity. “Remember awhile ago when I mentioned I had something up my sleeve? Well, I’ve been training to get into the police academy. And . . . I’ve been accepted in Central City.”

It takes Felicity a moment to digest the information, but once she does she’s unable to contain her excitement. Whether it’s a combination of beer, burgers and the fact that it’s a Friday night, Felicity squeals and jumps into McKenna’s arms. McKenna lets out a soft “oof” but it does nothing to dispel Felicity. 

“I’m so happy for you!”

Hugging her just as fiercely, McKenna laughs and wraps her arms around Felicity. “I can’t believe it. It’s surreal.” 

Letting her go, Felicity says, “Now I know why you were beefing yourself up. I was worried you were secretly planning to play superhero once you left work.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I didn’t want to expect anything in the event it didn’t work out. But now that I’ve been accepted I thought it was time.”

“No, I completely understand. I’m sad you’re leaving Star City, though.”

Come to think of it, McKenna would be leaving Felicity’s life all together. A dull ache is beginning to form in her chest but she quickly pushes it aside – this moment is all about McKenna. Felicity’s feelings are not important when her friend has worked so hard to become a police officer.

“Oh God, I know.” McKenna’s eyes slightly tear up which causes Felicity’s to do the same. Seeing her emotional response, McKenna laughs and tries to make the situation better. “I’m going to miss you so much. Star City is my home. ”

“This conversation has to end otherwise I’m going to cry so loud we’ll get kicked out,” Felicity jokes. McKenna smiles at her comment, but Felicity detects a hint of sadness in her friend’s eyes. “For what it’s worth I’m so proud of you.”

McKenna visibly relaxes, so much so her shoulders sag. “Yeah me too. I’ve been working at QC as a secretary for almost eight years. It’s time I change things up, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely.” Raising her beer, Felicity tips it toward McKenna and takes a generous sip. “Well, since you’re leaving, do you think you could . . . let me win this round?”

“Hell no. Who do you think I am, the Pope? You gotta work to earn it, Smoak.” 

Felicity grumbles while McKenna grins at her misfortune. As Felicity gets ready for her turn, she hopes Central City gives her friend everything she ever wants and then some. For someone as bright and wonderful as McKenna, she deserves nothing but the best.

When Felicity gets back to the apartment half past eleven she’s greeted with Laurel vigorously cleaning up the dinner table. “Hey. What’s up?” 

“Oh, hey.” Laurel appears a little frazzled and goes back to cleaning, paying Felicity no attention.

Clearly Laurel’s fired up and talking about it with her will only make things worse. Keeping silent, Felicity heads to the kitchen and takes out a box of cereal. She’s about to take out the milk from the fridge when suddenly Laurel blurts out, “Mom and dad are getting a divorce, and Tommy’s upset I haven’t introduced him to my parents.”

Whoa – talk about information overload. It takes a while for Felicity to let this information process in her drunken mind, but once she does the magnitude of it nearly sends her in a tailspin.

Felicity would be lying if she said she didn’t think Quentin and Dinah were headed for divorce, but she never imagined they would actually go through with it. So that’s why Sara went home. No wonder Laurel seemed testy earlier this evening. This must be absolutely terrible for her. Felicity’s no stranger to a broken home, but having it happen this late in her life will surely require a major adjustment. Not to mention this was probably out of the blue for Laurel, as she hasn’t lived with her parents for many years now. 

“Laurel, I’m so sorry.” She reaches out for Laurel and wraps her in a tight hug, rubbing Laurel’s back to soothe her. “I really am.”

At first Laurel stands completely rigid but Felicity knows better. “It’s going to be alright.”

Letting out a strangled sob, Laurel melts in Felicity’s arm, wrapping herself as tight as she can while her body shakes with tortured sobs. Felicity keeps silent, letting Laurel pour her heart out for as long as she needs to. Even if Laurel’s world is going to change, at least she’ll have Felicity by her side. And that’s all that matters.  

The rest of the weekend passes by with no fanfare although it’s a little busier for Laurel. She went home on Saturday to see if a compromise could be reached between Quentin and Dinah, but unfortunately they were adamant about getting a divorce. Per Laurel’s request, Felicity searched for apartments on the Internet for Quentin but she was coming up short.

Come Monday Felicity’s actually looking forward to work, but once she realizes the nano tech project is getting into full swing, she begins to wish she were on vacation (one that doesn’t involve Oliver, of course).

Even though Felicity had an entire weekend to think about it, she’s still processing McKenna’s bombshell. She’s beyond ecstatic for her friend, and she’s so proud of McKenna for taking a leap and stepping out of her comfort zone. Felicity doesn’t doubt McKenna will be a fantastic officer and eventual detective. McKenna always had a knack for figuring out puzzles and spotting things others couldn’t notice – perhaps it’ll help her when she’s investigating crimes.

Felicity hasn’t spilled the beans to anyone yet, as McKenna is still finalizing the paperwork in Central City and finding someone who can live in her apartment till the end of her lease. Still, it doesn’t stop her from coming over to McKenna’s desk every now and then to ask her every little detail, because Felicity’s never had a friend in the police force and it’s intriguing.

“So how rough is Central City? Is it as bad as Gotham? Because I’d hate to see you . . .” Felicity makes a motion of her neck getting sliced and McKenna snorts at her antics. 

“Don’t worry, Felicity. It’s so . . . bland there, despite the fact it’s the biggest city in Missouri.” Shuffling some of her papers to the side, she adds, “I don’t expect anything crazy to happen. Maybe arrest a few teenagers for cow tipping but that’s it.”

She almost asks McKenna what exactly is cow tipping, but McKenna’s office phone starts to ring. There’s no name associated with the number, but upon glancing at McKenna, Felicity sees her grimacing. 

“What’s wrong?” 

McKenna rolls her eyes. “It’s Ray Palmer calling me. He’s so annoying, Felicity. He’s called my office like 100 times already for the stupidest things. Doesn’t he have his own secretary?”

“What? I don’t believe it.”

“Why would I lie about that?”

That’s true – McKenna isn’t someone who tends to make things up. “I don’t know – well, like you said, he has his own secretary. Why would he keep calling you?” The phone continues to ring but McKenna puts it on silent, waiting for Ray’s call to go to voicemail.

Groaning, McKenna shakes her head. “He basically lectures me on how to run the project. And then he wants me to gather documents for the project. The thing is, I’ve told him a million times already that I’m just a secretary and I don’t have access to anything. And more importantly, I’m not the project manager! But nope, that doesn’t stop him from going on and on about – hell, I don’t even know.”

Taken aback by this new set of information, Felicity says, “I’m very confused why he continues to contact you.”

“That is precisely my point, Ms. Felicity Meghan Smoak.”

Felicity sighs. This is the second time Felicity’s found out information about a rich man that doesn’t paint them in a good light. But when Felicity met him in person he was charming and kind, and not at all the person McKenna is portraying him to be. “Hold on, let me listen to one of his voicemails.”

“Be my guest.” McKenna dials for the voicemail and hands the phone to Felicity. 

The voicemail starts innocently enough – “Hi McKenna, I hope you’ve had a wonderful day so far!” – then quickly morphs into “As you know, working with nano tech requires someone with a level of intellect” and other garbage Felicity can’t bear to listen to. This is completely different from the person she met a few weeks ago, but it goes to show you never really know a person. The voicemail is all about his superior intellect, his undying love for his benefactor Rip Hunter, and a few other insulting and foolish comments Felicity doesn’t bother processing in her mind.

Felicity finally slams the phone shut and pinches the bridge of her nose. “He’s gotta be –”

“A pompous know-it-all who won’t shut the fuck up?”

“That summarizes it nicely.”

After leaving McKenna’s desk – correction: forced to leave – Felicity promptly went back to work and began to focus on a couple other projects she hadn’t done in awhile. As she furiously types away, Felicity is unprepared to hear a gentle knock on the door, causing her to snap her out of her daze. 

“Come in!” Still focused on her computer, she doesn’t even bother to see who it is. “What’s up?”

“Hey, um, I need the cost reports on the Oracle implementation? Do you know where I can find it? Usually I have everyone hand me everything I need but it's been a struggle to get these reports.”

She stops typing and glances up, unprepared to see Oliver Queen in her office sticking out like a sore thumb. Felicity can’t help but flush – her desk is littered with candy wrappers and paper, her shoes are thrown over to the side, and the smell of broccoli cheese soup she had for lunch has permanently infused itself in her office. Once she digests that Oliver's standing by her doorway, Felicity realizes Oliver admitted to having everything handed to him and is annoyed by a mild inconvenience. What a prick.

Swallowing thickly and doing her best to tidy up her desk, Felicity tells him, “The IT department doesn’t have those. Accounting and Finance would.”

“Oh, right.”

After putting her papers to the side, Felicity takes a long look at Oliver and can’t help but admire how impeccably dressed he is today. His suit fits him like a glove, his shoes are probably worth a thousand dollars, and he looks like he stepped off a runway. Goddamn it. She really needs to stop ogling at Oliver, because he doesn’t need another female to stare at him and make his ego any bigger.

Oliver fidgets slightly and clutches a small folder, his eyes darting across the room. As the silence drags on, Felicity’s wondering why Oliver’s even at her office. The IT department never maintains cost reports, since certain members of the project are only in charge of the implementation and that’s it. Felicity’s best guess is Oliver’s too dumb to know that and thought she would genuinely have those reports.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

He finally looks up at her with pursed lips, and Felicity can’t help but think he’s . . . mad at her for not having the reports. Confused and slightly annoyed, Felicity glances at her computer to signal that this conversation is over. It’s not her fault Oliver’s an idiot.

“Yep,” she says, barely restraining herself from rolling her eyes. She quickly focuses back on her document, though the words and numbers are all jumbled and no longer make sense to her.

It’s awkward for another three seconds before Oliver turns to leave until he stops for a moment by the door. A strange sensation courses through her – she can feel Oliver staring at her but she doesn’t dare look up. In an effort to make Oliver leave faster, Felicity starts to type random formulas on the Excel sheet as she pretends to work furiously. She feels immature but she doesn’t know how to tell QC’s heir to scram.

After an agonizing second Felicity hears Oliver leave, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, Felicity looks up at the open doorway and leans back in her chair. What on earth was he doing here? 

Shaking her head, Felicity tries to focus back on work until she sees McKenna leaning against her door frame, a sly smile on her lips. “Something you want to tell me?”

“If I didn’t know any better, Oliver Queen only came down here to talk to you. ” 

Felicity shakes her head once more and pretends to be engrossed in work all over again. “I can’t imagine anyone being interested in hearing me babble, especially Oliver.”

McKenna wiggles her eyebrows and gives her a look, but Felicity doesn’t understand what she’s getting at. Oliver Queen is an idiot who doesn’t realize IT never deals with cost reports, and thought Felicity of all people would know.  

Sometimes Felicity has to wonder how Oliver’s managed to survive for as long as he has.

After getting back to her apartment at eight in the evening and eating a nice meal filled with carbohydrates, Felicity relaxes on the couch and tries not to doze off right then and there. Laurel hasn’t come back yet, though Felicity suspects she’s going to stay with her parents for another couple of days.

Seeing Laurel so stressed about her parents is making Felicity a little bit worried, mainly because Laurel has a tendency to bottle her emotions to the nth degree. Coupled with Laurel’s feelings of resentment towards Sara, her lack of job prospects and her new and unknown relationship with Tommy, Felicity has no doubt Laurel’s having a hard time juggling her emotional load. She feels bad for Laurel and hopes things won’t get worse from here.

She snaps out of her thoughts when the door opens up as Laurel comes inside, her steps slow and tired. Shutting the door behind her, she grunts a “Hey” before heading into the kitchen.

“You want a glass of wine?” Laurel asks from the kitchen.

“Do you even need to ask?”

Felicity can hear Laurel chuckle softly in the kitchen, and she smiles to herself – sometimes all you need is a quiet moment with a nice glass of alcohol to soothe your insides. She hears Laurel fumble around with the corkscrew while Felicity relaxes on the couch. Laurel comes over and sits next to her, handing a glass to Felicity and immediately taking a sip from hers.

“I feel like we haven’t had a chance to talk about normal things.”

Snorting, Felicity takes a sip then says, “When have we ever been normal?”

“True.” Smiling, Laurel toys with a pillow before sighing loudly.

Felicity doesn’t know what to say next because she doesn’t want to push Laurel. Things are going to be testy for her, and Felicity wants to give Laurel as much space and time.

Eventually, she says, “Mom and Dad are for sure going to get a divorce. I’ve tried everything but it’s the one thing they can agree on.”

“I’m sorry Laurel. I know what it’s like. But I promise you’ll get through this.”

Laurel shakes her head. “I don’t even know why I’m upset. It’s not like they divorced while Sara and I were in middle or high school. We’re adults. So are they. Sometimes people . . . drift apart.”

“True.” Felicity ponders Laurel’s statement and wonders if that’s what happened with her father and mother.  She remembers pestering her mother about her father while she was in high school, and wasn’t prepared for her mother blowing up on her. They fought a lot during those years, but as Felicity’s gotten older she’s come to realize not everything is as easy as it looks. Maybe her dad cheated on her mom. Maybe he hit her. Maybe they fell out of love. But one thing’s for certain: he left Felicity’s life and never came back. 

“And, I don’t know, I feel a little guilty.” Laurel looks off to the side and continues, “I wasn’t home very often. I was bratty and more focused on myself. I didn’t think to consider how my parents were doing.”

It’s a feeling Felicity knows all too well. For years Felicity was convinced her father didn’t love her. She thought her mother resented Felicity and blamed her for her father leaving them. Some nights, Felicity would try to catalog every piece of memory she had of her father and tried to discern what went wrong.  

In the end she never could.

“Laurel, please don’t feel responsible for your parent’s divorce. As much as it doesn’t feel like it . . . this divorce is about them. It took me years of therapy to realize that.”

Laurel sighs. “You’re right. But I’m so used to Mom and Dad relying on me for everything that it feels weird they’re not relying on me to – I don’t know, mediate their differences? Fix their relationship? It’s weird knowing you’re on the sidelines and nothing can change that.”

They both fall silent as they try to process just how shitty adulthood can be. “Sometimes, I really hate how we’re all desperate to leave our cages and become adults, then you actually reach adulthood and realize you’re just in another cage, albeit much bigger.” Felicity takes a sip of her wine and puts the glass on the coffee table. “You know, I think the problem is that I’m not super rich. If I had a ton of money I wouldn’t feel so bad about adulthood.” 

Snorting, Laurel says, “Well, Tommy has a lot of money and somehow manages to feel ten times shittier than I do.”

Felicity laughs but quickly sobers up once she sees Laurel roll her eyes. “I think . . . your eyes really did go to the back of your head.”

“I mean, I can’t blame Tommy for being rich. But he has no idea what it’s like to be a normal person.” Laurel also places her glass on the table and turns to face Felicity. “He’s never had to pay bills, never rented anything, doesn’t know how much he owes in credit card bills, doesn’t understand why I would rather take the train in the city than a car, and – ugh.” 

“Are you sure you don’t resent him for being rich?” Felicity ventures. She has a feeling that this conversation is taking a very sharp turn and she’s not mentally prepared for it. 

“I know I sound horrible but I really don’t – I just wish he didn’t need to be guided, you know?”

“Uh—” 

Laurel’s all fired up and cuts her off. “Like, he was talking about how he feels he’s done nothing in his life. And then I suggested to him to hold a charity event for, I don’t know, the at risk kids here in Star City, and he goes ‘Wow, I never thought of that.’ I mean, seriously? Don’t rich people love having charity events? How could he not have thought of that?” 

“I mean –”

“Anyway, he’s hosting an event but he’s having a hard time with it – you know, making sure the event planner is doing everything within the budget and other random things – but how can one person manage to complain that much? He didn’t even finish college. Both of us did grad school and we barely have the resources Tommy has. But hosting a charity event is apparently super hard?

“And by the way, you’re invited. He just hasn’t sent out invitations yet because they apparently were the wrong color.”

With her rant over, Laurel takes one long gulp of her wine and crosses her arms. Silence envelops their apartment and Felicity fidgets on the couch, unsure of where to go from here. 

Wow. Okay then.

Felicity’s going to need a few minutes to unpack everything Laurel just said, but for now one question comes to mind: “Is everything okay with you and Tommy?”

Glancing back at Felicity, Laurel gives her an odd and searching look, as if she’s running through a million different responses. If Felicity didn’t know any better, this rant may be the first – but not last – visible crack in Laurel’s carefully crafted image. And perhaps Laurel is beginning to realize that now.

“Yeah. Totally.”

Chapter Text

The desire to pick at her freshly manicured nails grows stronger the longer Felicity waits for Laurel to finish getting ready. It’s a deep shade of red and it suits her dress nicely, but she’s feeling nervous that she’ll embarrass herself at the gala tonight. Anytime Felicity is about to attend an event there’s a sense of impending doom and this situation isn’t any different.

“Laurel, do you need help or anything?”

There’s no reply for a few seconds until she hears Laurel yell back, “I—I think I’m good! Just a couple more minutes!”

Groaning, Felicity rests her back against the couch and closes her eyes in hopes of being able to nap before a long night of small talk—small talk she’ll inevitably ruin by her inability to not keep her mouth shut. 

It’s been almost a month now, and in between work and more work, Felicity hasn’t been able to breathe. She’s had another project thrown on her plate and she’s been assigned as the senior project manager. Felicity’s grateful her bosses see she has the potential to lead company-wide implementations, but there’s a part of her that aches to have at least one weekend where she’s not working. During the day, Felicity spends most of her time attending meetings to coordinate with the project, and her evenings are spent discussing the project with members in the Hong Kong office. That leaves only the weekends to catch up on actual work, which means she has absolutely no time to herself.

Her social and romantic life is non-existent, she’s tired, but Felicity is starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. If this current project goes well, she’ll probably get promoted, get paid more, and can finally take back some of her time. And that makes all of her sleepless nights worth it.

“Ahem.” Felicity cracks one eye open and sees Laurel towering over her, her hands placed on her hips. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”

“I could actually live up to that name if I went to sleep for 12 hours instead of going to this gala.” It takes a few seconds for Felicity to stand up straight—her dress is a tight, mermaid style gown with thin straps and a deep neckline. The color is a deep emerald shade and the silky fabric leaves nothing to the imagination. Despite her desire to sleep, Felicity feels sexy and wonders whether she might have the energy to pick someone up at this gala. She snorts to herself at the thought, Probably not.

When she finally manages to stand up and straighten herself out, she assesses Laurel’s outfit and whistles. “You look really hot!” She really does—her dress is black and hugs her curves, and the hair and makeup makes Laurel look like a siren waiting for her next kill. 

Laurel gives a tight smile and smoothes out her dress. “Thanks Felicity. Ready to go?”

Scoffing, Felicity grabs her clutch off the table and starts to walk towards the door. “Am I ready to go to a gala with a bunch of rich people which will inevitably cause me to blurt out something inappropriate? Absolutely not.”

Felicity’s really tempted to tell Laurel she’s been a bundle of nerves the whole day and feels an inexplicable amount of dread forming in the pit of her stomach. She can’t quite place what’s causing her to feel this way, but whenever she hasn’t listened to her gut something goes awry.

She just hopes she’s wrong.

The event is in full swing with donors and several Star City celebrities roaming the hall with their expensive clothes and jewelry. Felicity has to wonder if Star City’s elite know the level of hypocrisy they’re displaying tonight, but she’s willing to bet they don’t. The irony of rich people having a fundraiser to support at risk kids, while simultaneously using their resources to ensure the status quo doesn’t change, is likely lost on them as they attempt to one up each other in how much money they’re willing to donate.

She did get a chance to speak to Tommy, the only uber rich person she likes, before he ran off to chase the event planner, but other than that she hasn’t spoken to anyone else besides Laurel. They both feel awkward but Laurel more so since Malcolm Merlyn, Tommy’s father, is here in attendance. Laurel never met Malcolm, but since Felicity has been working in the corporate world for a few years it’s very hard not to know who Malcolm Merlyn is. And much like any other CEO who’s been embroiled in a few controversies over the years, Malcolm isn’t someone Felicity admires. 

Currently, people are on the dance floor while the band plays some cheesy rendition of a Michael Bublé song. Gowns of different colors glide against the dance floor in perfect harmony while jewels worth thousands sparkle under the dim ballroom light. If Felicity zoned out a little more, the people watching might make tonight a bit more bearable. 

“Excuse me, would you like a glass of champagne?”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Felicity glances at the tray the waiter is holding and scowls. “Is there maybe a glass of wine in the kitchen or is it reserved for people way above my pay grade?” She’s never enjoyed champagne and is already sick of drinking it—she would honestly rather have a glass of water at this point. 

The waiter gives a polite smile. He probably doesn’t want to trash talk his employers for the night and Felicity somehow made it awkward for no reason at all. Her skin starts to heat up and she attempts to explain, “I didn’t mean it like that. And I don't want you to get in trouble for getting me something I don't need.”

“Right.” Leaning forward, the waiter says in a low voice, “I’ll get you glass. Just sit tight for a minute, yeah?”

Pleased by the turn of events, Felicity says “Scout’s honor” and grins as he goes past her to serve other guests. At least there’s one silver lining to tonight’s dismal event. 

Felicity tries to focus back on the boring dance floor but suddenly feels the air around her shift. There’s a sense of tension and something else she can’t place—her skin prickles at this feeling and right then she knows she’s about to come face to face with someone she doesn’t want to ever see. 

“Evening, Felicity.”

Frack 

A million different scenarios rush through her head: she can pretend to have not heard him and walk away, pretend to have not heard him and just stand there with her back facing him, actually face the devil that is Oliver Queen, or transport herself to another dimension (although the last option will be decidedly much harder). 

In the end Felicity chooses to face him because in all the ways she’s a coward, she’s still horribly stubborn and doesn’t like to back down from a challenge. And boy, is it a challenge to hate Oliver Queen when he looks like that.

It really should be a crime to look as good as he does in a tuxedo because only God knows the amount of jail time he’s avoided over the years, and he definitely deserves a nice, long prison sentence for throwing her off balance tonight. Naturally his tux fits him like a glove, his cerulean eyes appear brighter than ever before, and the little bit of stubble peppering his jaw gives her heart such a strong shot of desire that she’s shocked by her reaction. Stupid hormones. 

But Felicity’s immediately reminded of Roy’s poor mother who suffered needlessly at the hands of Oliver Queen and all hormonal thoughts, which she has no control over, are effectively wiped out. 

“Hi Oliver.”

He seems pleased by her acknowledgement. “Have you enjoyed the night so far?”

Great, Oliver Queen wants to do small talk. How wonderful. “Yes. You?”

His eyes glance over to the dance floor, and he opens his mouth to say something but closes it almost immediately. Felicity spots him rubbing his thumb and index finger, and if she didn’t know better he looked anxious . 

“I—actually, would you like to dance? With me?”

Feeling thrown off would be an understatement—she’s absolutely gobsmacked and can only gape at him. Felicity thought she’d made it clear she doesn’t like Oliver, and certainly doesn’t want to dance with him and spend more time than necessary in his company. He most definitely made it clear he didn’t find her personality attractive and could care less about her. There’s something missing in between the limited interactions she’s had with him, because this is not how she expected this night to go.

The longer Felicity takes to respond the more she realizes how awkward she’s making this newest interaction. But her mind begins to wander and consider what dancing with Oliver might look like to an average passerby: the next Oliver Queen Conquest. She just knows people will begin to whisper about her and she can’t afford, let alone want that. Yet, refusing to dance with him might cause him to retaliate against her and Felicity happens to like working at QC. 

Looking at his passive and, dare she say, nervous expression, it strikes her he doesn’t realize that by asking her to dance he put Felicity in between a rock and a hard place. He’s made it impossible for her to say no.

“Um . . . sure.”

He raises his left eyebrow and immediately takes out his hand for her, a hint of a smile forming on his lips. Felicity swallows thickly, her heart beating fast and hard as she tries to quell her nervousness. Her palm begins to moisten instantaneously and she tries to stealthily wipe her hand on her dress before placing it on top of Oliver’s. 

The moment she does so Oliver starts to lead them both onto the dance floor, and Felicity notices the stares and whispers surrounding them. Oliver pays no mind—after all, he’s used to this kind of attention, but Felicity isn’t and she feels her entire body heating up. Her legs are beginning to shake, which is considerably bad since she’s about to dance with Oliver Queen. It doesn’t help that by holding Oliver’s hand she feels an inexplicable amount of tension radiating off of them both, and she finds herself simultaneously frozen and thrumming with energy.

Without warning Felicity finds herself standing right in front of Oliver but he gives her no chance to freak out even more—the hand he was holding onto extends outwards and he fluidly steps closer into her space. A rush of blood goes straight to her head, because he’s even hotter up close and fuck , his hand goes straight to Felicity’s upper back like he’s touched her there a million times before, gently brushing her hair to the side as he does so. The skin to skin contact causes her to erupt in goosebumps and her stomach flips and flops like she’s a teenger kissing her boyfriend for the first time. 

She goes to place her hand on Oliver’s broad, chiseled shoulder and their dance position is now complete—there’s no place to run or hide now. The music changes into something slower and Oliver takes the lead, swaying to the tune and confidently leading them along the dance floor. 

The light is brighter here but she doesn’t dare look at his face. Felicity is already hyper aware of every millimeter they’re touching, from the hand he’s placed in a gentlemanly way on her back, to the other hand that softly grazes hers, to how his impressive build shields her from the stares and gaping gossipers nearby. She can feel the warmth emanating off him and a whiff of cologne that suits him—a hint of oak, pine and something else she can’t quite place. 

It’s odd how safe and secure, hormonal and lustful, angry and bitter Felicity feels with him. There are too many emotions she’s juggling at this moment and it’s causing her to be dizzy, but the only way she can keep herself steady is by looking at everyone other than her dance partner.

Suddenly she feels Oliver’s hand splay out slightly on her back and he presses his hand a little more firmly against her skin. Felicity’s positive his thumb starts to move in a back and forth motion, as if he’s trying to reassure her. It only makes her blood pressure rise and doesn’t calm her down in the way he must think it would. 

“Are you okay?”

Her eyes snap up to his and she’s not at all prepared to feel her womb tighten the way it just did. She’s absolutely mortified by her physical reactions to Oliver and prays he doesn’t see the full extent of it. “Yeah. Totally.” She nods furiously and glances away while muttering under her breath, “Totally not worried about stepping on your designer shoes or ripping someone else’s dress.” 

Oliver chuckles, his laugh low and soft. Felicity glances at him and she’s surprised to see his eyes shining under the light and his lips curling into a gentle smile. When he smiles he looks young and boyish, a hint of his rebellious past peeking out from behind. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Right. Sure.” 

(She still worries about it though.)

He must’ve seen her nervousness displayed across her face because he gives her another gentle smile and gazes right into her eyes, reassuring her the only way he knows how. 

Nothing about this dance is reassuring her. If anything, it’s made her so horribly confused and it frustrates her she can’t get her thoughts in order. She’s torn between admitting she finds Oliver undeniably attractive and that yes, it actually did hurt when he said he wasn’t interested in someone like Felicity. She’s always been so insecure about how she comes off to other people and his comment only made her insecurities deepen. The trip to The Hamptons showed her that  while he’s still an immature person, he’s somehow wanting to better himself, especially considering he didn’t mind when Felicity suggested he man up and treat Laurel better. She can’t get mad at a person for trying to grow. 

But Felicity can’t pretend to not know what Roy and his mother had to go through at the hands of Oliver, no matter how many years ago it was. An innocent person suffered and died and that is unacceptable. There may be some sort of electric chemistry between them she's yet to figure out, but nothing will ever happen between them. He’s horrible for denying care to an innocent person and no matter how many charities he donates to, he doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. 

Even though at this moment they’re doing exactly that.

Oliver’s eyes fall onto hers, his gaze steady and searching. It takes every ounce of willpower to not look away, and the more she stares the quieter it gets around them. She moves in practiced motions, her right foot going one way and the left going another, and continues to keep a trained eye on Oliver. The hand he’s placed on her back is steady and strong, while the other leads them across the dance floor. 

For a moment time seems to stop—it’s just the two of them trapped in a heated bubble, both unwilling to break the spell first. Her mind is blank but every other part of her body is in hyperdrive. Every inch of skin is cataloging all the ways Oliver is touching her, and the parts of her not touching him scream for a taste. For a brief moment her mind flashes to Oliver’s large hands running down her naked body and the thought nearly makes her fall to the floor. 

God, what is wrong with her? Everything about this dance, about being near Oliver, is dangerous. Felicity’s never had such a visceral reaction to a man before and it absolutely terrifies her. Her body is having a totally different conversation than her brain, and in all the ways she’s felt in control of herself she feels she’s failing miserably right now. 

No one should have that kind of power over her. And yet . . .  

All of a sudden people around them start to clap and she’s yanked back to reality. Gasping, Felicity works to detangle herself from Oliver’s hypnotic grasp, staring at the ground and doing everything in her willpower to maintain control. She can’t hear anything other than the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She feels cold and breathes in deeply once, twice, while attempting to remember who she is. 

Oliver’s the first to speak. “Thank you for indulging me. Have a good rest of your evening, Felicity.”

He gives a slight nod while toying with the button on his suit, before turning around and walking away from the dance floor. Everyone around her begins to chat and exit the dance floor, and pretty soon Felicity realizes she’s the only one standing while everyone else is trying to move past her. Shaking her head, she swiftly walks to the edge of the ballroom and attempts to dodge other rich, drunk party goers. She tries not to eavesdrop on their outdated conversations about politics, even though she’d love to burst their privileged little bubbles. 

Every tux Felicity sees in her peripheral vision gives her a brief moment of panic before she realizes it’s not Oliver. Clenching her jaw in determination she walks faster, even though her high heels dig into her toes, and attempts to get her mind in order before outright panicking in front of everyone. Grabbing her clutch off the table, Felicity continues to make a beeline for the lobby and is determined to get out of the room as fast as she can. Her heart hasn’t stopped beating since Oliver asked to dance with her and it doesn’t help that she's practically running.

Felicity manages to make it out of the ballroom and tries to find a quiet place where she can get her bearings together. Unfortunately, the bathroom is most likely filled with other people and the lobby will have a mix of guests staying at the hotel and people attending the gala. Groaning, Felicity turns her head to the side and notices a side hallway that looks like it’s leading towards the hotel’s kitchen.

She stealthily goes across the lobby and manages to get to the secret hallway; thankfully it’s empty. Whew. Leaning against the wall, Felicity attempts to calm her racing heart but to no avail—her palms are still sweaty, her mind is spinning in circles and her legs are shaking. She’s the poster child of a nervous wreck. 

The dance with Oliver was more than she bargained for. She absolutely cannot stand him, especially after finding out about Roy’s mother, but Felicity’s physical reactions paint a completely different picture. Her body wants one thing and her mind wants another, and it’s the first time she’s ever felt this horribly conflicted. Well, she’s not conflicted in her hatred of him but usually she doesn’t have to fight against her own limbs. Hating someone shouldn’t be this hard, right?  

Over to the side she sees doors leading to the back kitchen and can hear yelling, sizzling and pots banging on stoves. Gazing wistfully at the door, Felicity wishes she could have hid out in the kitchen the moment she got here; if she did, she might have avoided interacting with Oliver altogether. 

The doors abruptly open and Felicity spots the waiter who promised her a glass of wine before her dance with Oliver, holding another tray of champagne. The second he sees Felicity, he heads toward her and says, “I’m sorry, I forgot to bring your —”

The waiter’s eyes widen once he sees Felicity swipe a glass from the tray and take one long swig of champagne. The smooth alcohol provides a brief moment of clarity before it becomes too much for her and she’s reminded of what transpired these past few minutes. Fuck it. She manages to down the entire drink and tries not to look like she can’t handle her alcohol but fails miserably. 

His eyes still wide, Felicity gingerly places the glass on the tray, wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and gives an apologetic look. “Try not to judge.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Unsure of how to proceed from here, the waiter hands Felicity another glass and she takes it without another word. If she gets drunk tonight she’ll blame it on Oliver.

Feeling a little lightheaded, Felicity continues to lean against the wall until the dizziness subsides. Burping, Felicity thinks she’s had enough of this gala and musters just enough energy to step away from the wall to call an Uber. Placing the glass on the floor and taking her phone out of her clutch, Felicity begins to walk before she hears a loud “Laurel” and stops in her tracks.

Still hiding out in the hallway, Felicity peeks to the side and sees Tommy approaching Laurel with an apprehensive smile on his lips. Laurel’s back is facing Felicity but she can tell Laurel’s not in a good place—she keeps shifting her feet and she’s not standing as straight as she normally does. Her stomach drops and she wonders whether she should interfere and take Laurel home before it leads to something much worse. 

“Hey babe, you wanna go home? Let me get you an Uber —”

“I’m—I’m not going home.” Laurel dangerously sways to the side and Tommy grabs a hold of her arm. Felicity glances at their surroundings and sees a couple of people judgmentally staring at Laurel. This isn’t looking good. 

Tommy leans closer to Laurel and whispers something Felicity can’t hear, but if she were to guess he’s probably telling her she’s really drunk and needs to go home. Guilt forms in the pit of her stomach—she feels responsible for not watching Laurel during this event and should’ve kept an eye on her. Instead, Felicity was too focused on anything (more like someone ) but her.  

Laurel drunkenly pushes Tommy and slurs, “You know, that conversation with your dad was really shitty. I don’t know if you know this but he’s an asshole.”

“I do know that.” Tommy purses his lips and Felicity can see his eyes darting across the room. “He treats everyone, including me, the same way if not —”

“The worst part was when your dad said he was surprised I haven’t gotten a job yet considering the way I look. How do you not think that’s insulting?”

Cursing under her breath, Felicity swears she’s going to make it her personal goal to hack into Malcolm Merlyn’s bank accounts and maybe even crash the stock market just to get back at him. Interesting how Malcolm completely forgot to mention Laurel graduated from one of the top twenty-five law schools in the nation and did pretty well during college. Sure, she didn’t graduate magna cum laude but she worked her ass off, something Malcolm probably hasn’t done in ever.

“It is, I didn’t say otherwise. Laurel, please, let me —”

“So why didn’t you say anything?”

Felicity feels horrible for eavesdropping on their argument, but she’s worried if she does interrupt Laurel might get angry with her. Her moods have been all over the place the past couple of months and Felicity’s not sure if Laurel wants to have this conversation when she’s this drunk. But screw it, she decides she’s going to interrupt and take Laurel home because that’s what best friends do. Laurel’s not in a good place right now, and it’s Felicity’s job to protect her in a vulnerable moment.

“Hey, Laurel.” Felicity quickly approaches the couple and she doesn’t miss the look of relief on Tommy’s face. Laurel looks at Felicity with unfocused eyes and smiles loosely. 

“ ‘Licity! I’m so glad you’re here.” She leans against Felicity and comes right up to her face. Felicity’s immediately hit with a whiff of alcohol and can see that Laurel can barely focus on her. She’s a lot worse than Felicity anticipated. “Hey, can you tell Tommy to fuck off for me since he wouldn’t defend me against his prick dad?” 

Jesus . Laurel hasn’t been this drunk—publically at least—since undergrad and it aches Felicity to see her like this. Grabbing a hold of her arm Felicity whispers, “Let’s go outside, okay?”

She moans and shrugs Felicity off. Tommy’s face is beginning to redden and he says, “Laurel, it—what am I supposed to do, argue with my dad in front of the biggest people in Star City? The entire country?”

“I would expect you to be man enough to defend your girlfriend.”

Groaning internally, Felicity realizes Laurel’s relationship with Tommy has been a lot more precarious than she originally thought. This is awkward for her to be in the middle of, and there’s a lot of hurt layered between what Laurel’s accusing Tommy of.  

“Hey, why don’t we —”

“I can’t seem to win with you, can I?” Tommy’s eyes shine with anger and his voice wavers, as if he’s torn between crying in frustration or screaming out at Laurel. “You either want me to be this socially conscious, hipster guy who’s into drinking kombucha and loves volunteering at an animal shelter, or want me to be a complete snob who treats you like shit just because I happen to be rich. Which version of Tommy do you want, hmm?”

“Guys, how about we do this later, okay?” 

Panic begins to take over Felicity once she spots a few more people staring at them; Felicity starts to tug on Laurel and prays she complies. It seems like the event is almost over and people are beginning to congregate in the lobby. This could be a PR nightmare for Tommy and a job prospect nightmare for Laurel too, let alone very embarrassing on a personal level. They need to leave now . 

Laurel doesn’t move an inch and says, “The one who defends me when people, like your dad, insult me and someone who doesn’t need to be told to give a shit about people.”

God, that one stung. She can see Tommy’s visibly upset and Laurel, who can’t even stand straight, looks like she instantly regrets her words. This fight is ugly and there’s so much left unsaid, but this is the wrong place and time. It hurts Felicity to see these two fighting in such a way and she’s really trying to make it better by taking Laurel away, but there’s only so much she can do. 

“I can’t do this right now.” Backing away from Laurel, Tommy waves someone over, possibly his driver, and clenches his jaw so much that Felicity wonders how he hasn’t managed to break it. As the driver starts to approach them, Tommy looks at Felicity and grits out, “Text me when you two get home.” He turns around and talks to the man before leaving them without another glance, his back rigid and his hands curled into tight fists. 

Laurel scoffs drunkenly and sways dangerously before the driver approaches them. “Ma’am, do you need help with your friend?” he asks Felicity.

Shaking her head Felicity instead asks, “Is there a side door you can bring the car to?” 

“Not to worry, ma’am. Please use this side hallway and exit through the kitchen. Tell them Brian sent you there.”

“Thanks.” Glancing at Laurel, Felicity can’t help but pity her; clearly Laurel’s lack of job prospects, relationship issues and familial drama has caused Laurel to spiral in a way she never thought possible. So often Laurel has everything under control that it’s unnerving to see her in this state.

“C’mon, I got you,” she whispers soothingly. Laurel’s quiet as her eyes glaze across the room and she grabs a hold of Felicity’s arm to keep her steady. Felicity begins to turn them around and Laurel, thankfully, follows suit. As they gingerly turn, Felicity catches Oliver standing not too far away, intently watching the two of them. Felicity locks eyes with him—has he been there the whole time? She can’t tell what he’s thinking, but he gives a curt nod and leaves, no doubt chasing after Tommy.  

Right, well, the most important thing is to take Laurel home. Felicity starts to lead her and Laurel towards the hallway to the kitchen, praying Laurel doesn’t want to take a nap in the middle of the hallway or puke in front of everyone. As they walk Laurel’s feet begin to drag on the floor—it’s a miracle Laurel’s able to walk at all with her heels on, but Felicity hopes Laurel can walk all the way towards the kitchen because she can’t carry Laurel herself. 

Silence envelops them and for once Felicity doesn’t know what to say. This situation reminds her of her mother and the countless nights she had to take care of Donna Smoak. It causes her to feel like a helpless fifteen year old all over again. She should’ve listened to her gut—tonight was going to suck no matter what happened. 

As they almost approach the kitchen doors Laurel suddenly hiccups and slurs, “I fucked things up, didn’t I?”

Yeah, I think you did.

Chapter Text

Sunlight creeps into her room and coats it with warmth and serenity, but Felicity is feeling anything but serene. Coming back home from the gala last night was a disaster—Laurel was dangerously close to puking a couple of times in the backseat of Tommy’s SUV, and when the driver finally stopped at their place she had fallen asleep and wasn’t moving an inch. The driver had to carry her inside as Felicity couldn’t with her dress, heels and lack of strength. After making sure Laurel was tucked safely away in her bedroom, and on her side just in case she did actually puke, Felicity tried to sleep but to no avail. And as luck would have it, she woke up this Sunday morning at six and couldn’t go back to sleep.

Felicity feels slightly responsible for whatever relationship troubles Laurel and Tommy are going through, considering she pushed Laurel to take a leap and date him. And if Felicity was around a bit more and paid attention to the amount of alcohol Laurel was consuming, not to mention her moods going from one end of the pendulum to another, she might have noticed this train wreck coming a little sooner. She’s not sure what led to the cracks in their relationship—it appears Laurel has one too many expectations and Tommy isn’t happy with it, and their fight was clearly been building for a long time. 

It just hurts to see her best friend publically spiral so out of control, but the only thing Felicity can do is be there for her, especially since Felicity hasn’t for the past few months. As her best friend, Felicity feels she needs to be another pair of eyes for Laurel and help when Laurel can’t do it herself. 

It also doesn’t help that yesterday’s gala brought her face to face with Oliver and . . . she didn’t expect their interaction to happen the way it did. There’s no doubt she finds him physically attractive, but it’s completely one-sided since Felicity isn’t his type, and that’s what frustrates her even more. It would’ve been a different story if there was a mutual attraction between the two, but seeing Felicity’s the only one at war with herself proves she’s just like any other fangirl with an intense, but unwanted, physical attraction to Star City’s biggest playboy. It’s pathetic. 

And worse, despite knowing he’s a horrible person for some reason her body hasn’t synced up to her mind. It infuriates her to no end. There are so many conflicting emotions whenever she’s near Oliver—resentment, anger, and a little bit of something she’s not willing to explore. It makes her want to explode. 

Regardless, she just has to keep her head low, focus on her friendships, work, and everything will fall into place. She’s determined to not let Oliver’s presence ruin the life she’s carefully built up, galas and dances (and piercing blue eyes) be damned. 

It isn’t until two in the afternoon when Laurel wakes, right when Felicity is in the middle of finishing up on work. Once Felicity hears her friend coughing, she takes a glass of water and Advil to Laurel’s room. Knocking softly on the door, Felicity enters and finds it in complete darkness save for hints of sunlight peeking under the curtains. Laurel’s curled up on the bed but she’s awake, her face swollen and pale from last night’s drinking.

“Hey, thought you might want this,” Felicity whispers. She tiptoes over to Laurel and hands her the water and Advil, which Laurel takes greedily.

“Thanks.” Laurel sighs and places the glass on her nightstand before collapsing back on the bed. She drapes her blanket over her, cocooning herself from an inevitable hangover and reality.

Felicity gingerly sits on the foot of her bed and watches her carefully. “Are you okay?”

Sighing once more, Laurel throws an arm over her eyes and groans, “I feel like I’ve been in a car accident.”

With a gentle smile, Felicity probes, “Do you . . . remember anything from last night?”

For a minute Laurel’s completely motionless—did Laurel go back to sleep? Felicity leans forward to get a better look, but just then Laurel moves her arm away from her eyes and glares at Felicity. “I’m awake.”

“Just checking.”

She rolls her eyes before closing them once more in defeat. “And yeah, I remember everything.”

Her heart sinking to her stomach, Felicity doesn’t know what to say and wishes she knew what to do to make this better. It dawns on her that she hasn’t spoken to Laurel in a long time on her thoughts and feelings about . . . anything, really. Felicity’s been so busy that she doesn’t know where Laurel’s head has been for the past few months. She knew Tommy’s antics were annoying Laurel but she was convinced everything was working out, and if there were any bumps Felicity believed they had gotten over it. Laurel has always been the one who knows what she wants and takes control of every situation that Felicity thought this situation wasn’t any different.

Discarding all the cheesy affirmations she planned on saying, Felicity offers, “If you want to talk about anything—“

“No offense, but this is between me and Tommy. I don’t need you to get more involved than you already are.” 

Yeesh . Felicity's skin heats up in embarrassment and hurt while Laurel turns to the side and faces away from her. It takes a lot of strength and awareness for Felicity to recognize Laurel is lashing out at the person closest to her, not because Felicity’s the one causing her to feel this way. Still, it doesn’t change the fact she doesn’t know how to deal with this Laurel, and she’s at a loss on where to go from here.  

“Sure, I totally comprende . I’ll—I’ll just keep—well, your glass is already there so you have plenty of water.” Sitting up from the bed, Felicity goes by the door before taking another glance at Laurel. “I’m working in my room so if you need anything just text or whatever. You’re more than welcome to come into my room also. In case you want to talk or something . . .”

Silence.  

“Okay.” Shutting the door behind her, Felicity has to wonder whether her relationship with Laurel is also beginning to crack. For the first time in ages she’s worried, and sincerely prays and hopes it isn’t.

“Wait, I forgot a knife—I’ll be right back!”

Her coworkers all groan around her, upset Felicity is delaying their promised slice of cake a minute longer than necessary. Dodging their amused glares and taunting, Felicity runs to the kitchen and grabs a knife before things get out of hand. Racing back to the conference room, Felicity comes up to McKenna, hands her the knife and says with ragged breathing, “Make a wish!” 

Grinning, McKenna cuts straight down her going away cake while everyone around them cheers and claps. Felicity then grabs McKenna for a hug but is unable to express how much she means to Felicity and how much she’ll miss her. She feels her eyes watering and closes them while McKenna, seemingly feeling the same way, hugs Felicity tighter. 

Letting go of her friend, Felicity exhales loudly and dabs the corner of her eyes. “All right, now everyone else can hug you too.” 

Laughing, McKenna busies herself with her other coworkers while Felicity begins to cut the rest of the cake. As everyone’s laughter and conversation increases, Felicity feels an inexplicable amount of sadness knowing McKenna will no longer be working at QC. It’s been so hard to develop meaningful female friendship at her job since most of the people she interacts with are men. McKenna’s no nonsense attitude and her calming demeanor have provided several moments of levity during Felicity’s hectic tenure at QC, and she can’t imagine a future at QC without her. 

Despite how Felicity feels, she’s proud of McKenna for taking a leap of faith and going for a career she’s always wanted. It must be daunting to give up everything you’ve known to try something new, but Felicity has a newfound respect for her friend and wishes nothing but the best for her.

As she continues to cut the cake and hands off slices to her coworkers, she spots Oliver entering the conference room with a gift in his hand. Fuck’s sake . She knew McKenna had invited him but there was a possibility he wouldn’t make it. Felicity had hoped he would leave the country and never come back, which doesn’t seem very outlandish considering he’s done it before.

For a brief moment he locks eyes with Felicity before she ostentatiously glances back down and busies herself with cutting the cake. She refuses to dwell on Oliver any more than she already has and today is no exception. Unfortunately, her entire department is ogling at Oliver and the room has gone somewhat quiet as everyone admires QC’s heir. 

Not able to help herself and taking a peek, Felicity notices how sorely out of place he looks here—everyone else is wearing a collared shirt they’ve already worn this week whereas Oliver is dressed impeccably in a suit he probably spent thousands on. Not to mention he towers over everyone else and commands a presence no one in this room will ever have. Smiling through pursed lips, he makes a beeline towards McKenna (and in effect, towards Felicity) while ignoring all the stares and whispers. Annoyingly, Felicity notices how everyone gives him room to walk even though the conference room is already cramped. Worse, Oliver doesn’t appear to let this faze him and almost expects it to happen.

“Hey, McKenna.” 

Pretending to be busy, Felicity steals a glance whenever she can and listens in to the conversation because she’s nosy like that.

“Thank you so much for coming! You didn’t have to bring anything!”

From her peripheral vision Felicity sees Oliver hand McKenna a bag. “How could I not give a going away present to the coolest QC employee?”

“That’s so kind of you, thank you so much. Can I open it?”

“Of course.”

Just then a couple of guys come over and ask for a slice of cake, so Felicity can’t hear what happens next, but once she’s done handing them each a slice she hears McKenna gasp in excitement. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Felicity can't resist glancing over and sees a vinyl record in McKenna’s hands while Oliver beams at her. 

“Holy shit is this . . . Did you just give me a signed Is This It record?”

Wow . Even Felicity knows this is a big deal since The Strokes are one of McKenna’s favorite bands. She didn’t think Oliver had it in him to go above and beyond for, well, anyone. For a split second, she wonders if there was something more between them—after all, this is a pretty big gift to give to someone who he only partied with five years ago. Her stomach lurches when she realizes that yes, they could’ve easily been together or at least hooked up several years ago. She begins to feel her face heat up, not from embarrassment but from something else she can’t quite place. Her stomach churns again and her palms moisten, and pretty soon the only thing Felicity can think of is bolting right out of the conference room to take a breather. 

Turning, Felicity’s determined to leave the conference room even if it means squeezing in between McKenna and Oliver, but her plans are thwarted when McKenna spots her coming from behind. “Felicity, take a look at this! Isn’t it amazing?”

Now trapped, Felicity has to school her features as she examines McKenna’s gift. She takes an accidental peek at Oliver and catches him staring, which makes Felicity all kinds of uncomfortable. Focusing back at the gift, she’s surprised to find a bunch of autographs on the cover. It truly is a nice gift. 

“Yeah, it’s—it’s pretty awesome.”

She hears Oliver give a low chuckle. “I had to give you something that would commemorate our crazy night out to see them play. And let’s just say one of those bastards owed me a pretty big favor.” 

Laughing, McKenna hugs the record close to her chest and gives him a sincere smile. “Oliver, I can’t—thank you! Make sure you get some cake at least, okay?” 

Leaving the two of them to mingle with other coworkers, Felicity and Oliver are now the only ones left standing in front of the cake table and she doesn’t know what to do from here. Felicity tries very hard not to examine Oliver but it’s impossible not to. Nothing has changed since she saw him last Saturday at the gala—he’s still tall, still has the perfect amount of stubble on his face, looks groomed and ready to take over QC. 

For a brief moment her mind wanders to the dance they shared nearly a week ago, and she swears her skin tingles from Oliver’s phantom touch. Her heart skips a beat and the muscles in between her legs clench in anticipation of something that will never (and truthfully, hasn’t for a long time now) happen. Taking a deep breath, Felicity attempts to bring herself back to reality and tries not to get lost in the sensation, but that’s easier said than done.

Clearing her throat, Felicity grabs a plate off the table and places it in front of Oliver. “Cake?”

It’s taken her a minute to see this but there’s an added layer of awkwardness surrounding them now. They know each other enough to say hi, but not well enough to have a normal conversation with just the two of them. For once Felicity isn’t sure what to say, which goes to show she really is out of her depth.

“Sure.” He takes the plate from Felicity’s hand but doesn’t make a move to eat it. The fork is still sitting on the plate and he glances down at the cake before asking, “Is this gluten free?”

“No, it’s just a regular cake with high sugar and gluten content. Are you allergic to either one of those ingredients?” Knowing Oliver, he’s probably not allergic and only doing a gluten and sugar free diet because his model girlfriend at the moment said so. It takes every ounce of willpower not to roll her eyes in front of him and somehow she manages it.

“No, I, uh . . .” Oliver toys with the plate in his hand. “Actually, I don’t eat cake.”

“You’re probably the first person in the entire world who’s said that. Are you even human?”

She cringes immediately knowing Oliver probably doesn’t understand sarcasm, let alone her brand of sarcasm. “I—”

“Oh, um . . . right.” He then gazes with eyes wide open and stands in front of Felicity like a fifth grader at his friend’s birthday party, unsure of where to go and what to say. Still maintaining eye contact, he gingerly places the plate back on the table and purses his lips. 

“Thanks for the cake.” 

He gives an awkward half wave before turning around to leave. Muttering a quick goodbye to McKenna, Felicity watches Oliver exit the conference room with an intensity she didn’t know he possessed. Perplexed by the turn of events, Felicity can only continue to stare at the conference room door before wondering if he left as fast as he did because Felicity embarrassed him. If that’s the case, he’s got a fragile ego just like any other man and she couldn't care less about his bruised feelings.

Glancing back at Felicity, McKenna scrunches her brows in confusion and all Felicity can do is shrug. Every interaction with Oliver leaves her feeling more bewildered than the last and today is no exception. People always say women are difficult creatures but Felicity begs to differ, especially where Oliver is concerned. 

He’s the most difficult of them all. 

The weekend has officially come around and instead of enjoying the warm weather, Felicity’s currently at McKenna’s apartment as she tries to help her friend pack. Unbeknownst to her, there are a lot more items than she anticipated when she agreed to help. It’s only natural McKenna would accumulate a lot of clothes, furniture, and other nick nacks as she’s been living in Star City for almost a decade now. Still, there are a lot of items to put away before her move on Wednesday.   

“So what else do you need to pack?”

Sighing, McKenna dumps a few sweaters into one cardboard box before wiping her forehand with her sleeve. “The bathroom and kitchen, but I can easily donate the food. And then there’s my coat and shoe closet which might . . . take a while.”

Staring at the box of shoes that’s already been packed, Felicity looks up at McKenna and clarifies, “There’s another box of shoes I need to pack aside from the one I just put together?”

With a guilty expression McKenna nods her head in agreement and mouths “I’m sorry” at her. Rolling her eyes in a playful manner, Felicity goes to grab the tape and shut the box.

Over to the side Felicity sees The Strokes record proudly displayed on her dresser. She’s still not over Oliver leaving McKenna’s going away party in such a hurry, but she’s also processing the intense reaction she had to seeing Oliver give McKenna such a thoughtful gift. There’s a part of her wondering if they ever hooked up, and if they did, she has to wonder why McKenna didn’t tell her.

Eyeing the record, Felicity casually asks, “Have you had a chance to listen to the album yet?”

“Oh yeah, it sounds so good on vinyl.” McKenna heads over to the dresser and takes the record out of the cover. “Actually, let me put it on now!” She runs to the living room where her record player is, and soon enough the entire apartment is filled with rock music which she surprisingly likes.

When McKenna comes back to her room, Felicity comments, “That was a pretty nice gift Oliver gave.”

“Yeah, even I was surprised. But he was always weirdly thoughtful like that.”

Weirdly thoughtful? Good to know Oliver doesn’t mind handing out bits of kindness and generosity, unless it concerns Roy Harper and his mom. In that case he enjoys handing out cruelty instead. “How exactly do you two know each other again?”

Shrugging, McKenna goes to build another cardboard box. “We hung out with the same crowd of party kids back in high school. And then I ended up working at QC and we would hang out occasionally.”

Her mind racing, Felicity can’t help satisfying her curiosity. “I’m surprised he never asked you out . . . unless he did, I wouldn’t know. Obviously.” 

Snorting, McKenna finishes folding the box and starts putting in clothes left on her bed. “I can’t believe you asked me that! There is no way Oliver would ever have the balls to ask me out. Besides, back then I was dating my ex the entire time I knew Oliver, and I think he respected me too much to even try hitting on me.” McKenna starts to laugh at the absurdity of Felicity’s suggestion, shaking her head in disbelief as she does so. 

Laughing alongside her, Felicity feels a weight has been lifted off her shoulder. She doesn’t know why she’s relieved—perhaps it has to do with knowing the kind of person Oliver truly is, and if McKenna and Oliver really did have a relationship it would be hard for Felicity to tell McKenna what she knows about Roy. There’s a chance McKenna wouldn’t believe her and Felicity can’t risk telling a dividing secret that puts her friendship on the rocks. 

Realizing it’s been a good few seconds and thankful she’s gotten the answer she was seeking, Felicity goes back to folding clothes in a much lighter mood than before. “Oliver knows how to be respectful? Wow, who would’ve thought.”

McKenna shakes her head in a playful manner and continues to put her clothes away. It’s silent for a minute, save for the music, when she suddenly asks, “Hey, how’s Laurel with, you know . . .”

Felicity had almost forgotten about Laurel’s issues and it instantly sobered her up. “Honestly, I don’t know. When I come back from work she’s either gone or sleeping. I think she and Tommy have worked things out? She won’t tell me anything and is . . . in a mood.”

Come to think of it, Felicity hasn’t really seen Laurel since Sunday, and she begins to worry she’s losing touch with Laurel all over again. Occasionally she’ll text Laurel to see if she should pick up any groceries or tell her something funny that happened, but she’s been so busy at work it’s been impossible to focus on anything but that. She’s been getting home at nine then leaving early the next morning by seven or seven-thirty, which means Laurel is either sleeping or away for the day. 

“That’s understandable given the circumstances.” Sighing, McKenna comes over to Felicity and sits down on the floor, her expression soft but serious. “Except it feels like she’s always in a ‘mood’ whenever you talk to me about her.”

Felicity doesn’t want McKenna to think Laurel’s being difficult or a brat, but she doesn’t know how to explain the shifts in Laurel’s behavior, which have now led to her being in a constant “mood.” Laurel went from being tired yet determined to find a job, to dedicating her time to Tommy and doing something new, to keeping him at arm’s length, to suddenly drinking a lot and picking a fight with everyone. It feels Laurel’s behavior changed overnight but Felicity knows it’s been building up for a long time. 

And she hasn’t been there in order to spot all these changes from the beginning. 

“I—I know but she’s having a hard time. But it’ll all be over soon and everything will go back to normal.”

Pursing her lips, McKenna leans forward and places a hand on Felicity’s arm. “Look, you said almost the same thing a while back. I just think you need to prepare for when it won’t be ‘over.’”

Swallowing thickly, Felicity stays silent as the gravity of McKenna’s words hits her like a shot to the heart. There’s a part of her that knows McKenna is right, and it’s only a matter of time before the precarious balance Laurel’s maintained for so long will break. 

And she really isn’t ready for it. 

After ordering pizza and not packing McKenna’s items like she promised, Felicity finally heads out to go back home. It’s dark now but as she approaches her car, she spots a group of kids running and hollering towards God knows where. She’s about to sit inside her car when she spots a flash of long, blonde hair and hears an infectious laugh that can only belong to Sara Lance.

Sure enough, she sees Sara, another girl with long, dark hair and a guy all laughing and heading towards a parked car not far from where she is. It is a Saturday night after all, so Felicity understands why a group of young college kids are hanging out this late, but something seems off. The guy seems familiar . . . Squinting her eyes, she realizes Roy Harper is in the same group as Sara. 

It has to be a coincidence, right? At the restaurant—God, it feels like it was ages ago—Sara had no idea who Roy was as he waited on them but clearly they know each other now, and she’s curious to know how that happened. As she watches the group get inside Sara’s car and drive off, Felicity can’t shake the feeling that something is amiss. What it is, she doesn’t know, but very rarely is she ever wrong about things like this. 

She manages to sit inside her car but doesn’t turn it on—her chest is heavy with secrets, anxiety and a general sense of foreboding that increases with each passing day. It feels as if her life is heading towards one big crescendo and she’s powerless to stop it. 

Funny, her life was perfectly normal before Oliver came into the picture. One has to wonder whether everything slowly blowing up coincides with Oliver coming back to Star City and their fateful encounter. Gritting her teeth, Felicity turns on her car and speeds away, a renewed sense of anger and resentment towards Oliver fueling her. 

If she didn’t already hate Oliver, well, she does now.

Frack, frack, fuck —she’s running way behind this morning, but seeing that she just missed her train and the next one isn’t coming for another ten minutes, Felicity might as well make the cup of coffee she planned on skipping (which goes to show how late she is). Mondays are always tough and today is no exception.

As she takes out the coffee and coffee filter, she sees Laurel come into the kitchen and sit on the dining chair. “Morning!”

Grunting a “Hello” Laurel silently stares off into space and pays Felicity no attention. There are bags under Laurel’s eyes, but not a single hair is out of place and she’s wearing a brand new set of pajamas. If Felicity didn’t know any better, she wouldn’t have known Laurel’s been going through a rough period. 

But looks can be deceiving.  

“I know I've been super busy but we haven’t had a chance to talk for a minute. How are Dinah and Quentin?”

While Felicity pours water into the coffee machine and turns it on, Laurel says, “Mom and dad are surprisingly amicable right now, but who knows what the divorce process might entail. It might turn ugly, I don't know.”

Felicity only has her own experience to go off of and it wasn’t good, considering her dad forfeited his right to be in her life the moment he left. She hopes Quentin and Dinah’s split will be different but Laurel’s right—the divorce process can always get ugly no matter how much both parties don’t want it to. 

Not wanting Laurel to dwell on her parent’s divorce much longer, Felicity casually asks, “Sara?”

Sighing, Laurel crosses her legs and scowls. “Same old. Still can’t be bothered to put her dishes away.”

Good to know some things haven’t changed. Smiling, Felicity opens up a cabinet and grabs her thermos. She’s debating whether to ask the next question, but she’s dying to know if something bad happened.

“And . . . Tommy?”

For the first time Laurel glances up at Felicity, her eyes distant and cold. Felicity’s heart drops to her stomach and she prepares herself for the worst. “We talked. It’s fine.”

Thank fucking God. All the anxiety she had built up for the past week washes away in an instant and she nearly jumps from happiness. Whatever was happening between them seems to have worked out and it’s all Felicity can hope for. She chastises herself for building up a nightmare scenario which, thankfully, hasn’t come to fruition. Still, she’s powerless to stop herself from expressing some sort of excitement. “Oh! That's good to hear, especially since he’s my favorite boyfriend of yours.” 

If looks could kill the one Laurel is sending her right now definitely fits the bill. Realizing (albeit a little too late) things are still tense Felicity clears her throat, begins to pour her coffee in the thermos and tries to change the conversation stat . “What about job applications? Have you heard back from anyone?”

Sheepishly looking up at her, Laurel shrugs and toys with the drawstrings of her pants. “I . . . haven’t been applying for the past couple of months. I’ve been distracted.” 

“Yeah, I get it.” She truly does. It dawns on Felicity she’s so used to Laurel taking care of everything for herself that she hasn’t offered to help in any useful way. She’s been hoping Laurel will figure it out for herself, or expecting her to ask Felicity for help, when instead she should’ve been lending a hand in ways that’ll ease some of Laurel’s hardships. Felicity can’t force Laurel to open up to her and it’s on Felicity to see how she can aid her best friend during a time of need.

“This is only a suggestion, but would it help if I check in every couple of days to see if you’ve applied—” 

“If you’re worried about me paying rent, don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

“Laurel, I’m not— what? ”

Immediately, her mind races through a mixed bag of emotions but confusion being the primary one. All Felicity wanted to offer was to check in with Laurel every couple of days to see if she’s applied, that way Laurel can have someone she trusts hold her accountable and keep her on track. In no way did Felicity even worry or think Laurel wasn’t going to pay rent. And if that were to ever be the case, Felicity would always have Laurel’s back until she got her life together.  

As she watches Laurel’s eyes harden with anger, Felicity suddenly realizes no matter what she says, Laurel’s already made up her mind based on a totally wrong assumption. That is impossible to defend or argue against. 

“I don’t need your help, Felicity.”

Grabbing her thermos, Felicity gives one last look at Laurel and tries to understand where this is coming from. She’s unaccustomed to Laurel accusing her of something that’s simply not true, but the only sensible thing she can do at the moment is walk away. 

“Duly noted.”

Clenching her jaw, Felicity leaves the kitchen and grabs her messenger bag before exiting their apartment, not without slamming the door shut. As Felicity stomps her way down the hall she tries not to let Laurel’s words get to her. Yet, all she can think about is how she really isn’t prepared for this shift in their relationship, and a renewed sense of panic begins to set in her bones. 

Felicity and Panic do not mesh well together, and she’s not looking forward to how her life implodes. At all.

Chapter Text

It’s been two weeks since McKenna moved and Felicity finds herself missing her friend with each passing day. More often than not Felicity goes by McKenna’s desk and hopes to catch her idly sitting there, waiting to gossip with Felicity, but instead there’s a new secretary and he’s nothing like McKenna. Now with her only work friend gone, Felicity has no excuse to roam around the hallways and take an hour lunch. She’s lonely at work and she realizes she’s going to need to make new friends.

Her friendship with Laurel is also . . . different. After Laurel’s random accusation, they landed on an unspoken truce—Felicity won’t help her in any way unless Laurel asks her, and until then they’ll dance around the elephant in the room. Felicity doesn’t like this compromise considering it feels very immature, but she’s not in an emotional headspace to deal with Laurel’s outbursts. She has to pick her battles and this isn’t one of them.  

Regardless, Laurel is still her best friend and she’ll always be there for her. Which is why, when she comes home later that evening and sees Laurel nursing a bottle of wine at the dining table, she knows something is amiss and wants to help her in any way she can.

As Felicity quietly takes off her shoes and steps over to the dining area, Laurel doesn’t acknowledge her presence and continues to stare off in the distance. It looks like she came back from somewhere, since she’s wearing normal clothes and her makeup is slightly done, but her mind is a thousand miles away. “Is everything okay?”

“Tommy broke up with me.”

Closing her eyes, Felicity feels her heart sink into her chest and she has to physically prevent herself from not grabbing Laurel into a hug. This is exactly what Felicity didn’t want to happen, not because of how this might affect Felicity, but rather Laurel can’t—shouldn’t—have something else weighing on her shoulders. She’s not sure how Laurel will be able to handle this, and it wrecks her that she’s unable to make Laurel feel a little better.

They dated for, God, almost five months and Felicity saw first hand how much of an effort Laurel put into their relationship. Laurel took a leap of faith and dated someone from a completely different world, went to The Hamptons with Tommy and . . . she’s not sure what else. It dawns on Felicity that she doesn’t truly know what their relationship was like. There could very well be a multitude of issues Laurel had with Tommy, but she only told Felicity what she felt comfortable sharing. 

Or perhaps she shared what she felt Felicity might not judge her for, and the thought only increases her anxiety. 

“Do you want me to stick around?”

Laurel finally glances up at Felicity, her eyes red and puffy but cold and distant. Toying with her glass, she inhales deeply as if she’s trying to pretend nothing is out of the ordinary. “No, I’m good. I plan on finishing the rest of this bottle and then some. And not think about a certain privileged, immature guy I wasted my time on.”

“Okay.” Taking one last gentle look at Laurel, Felicity tightens her grip on her messenger bag and tries to convey all that she can’t. “Goodnight.”

Laurel only glances away as she takes a generous sip of her wine.

Sighing, Felicity heads back to her room and softly shuts the door. At the moment Laurel may not want Felicity near her, but she can tell Sara about this in hopes she might be able to provide comfort where Felicity can’t. Taking out her phone, Felicity texts her a rundown of what happened and asks that she keep tabs on Laurel. 

Sara: Fuck ok thanks 4 telling me 

         Ill call her tomorrow

Satisfied she’s done something to marginally alleviate Laurel’s pain, Felicity almost shuts her phone when she considers asking Sara how she’s come to know Roy Harper. Her finger hovering over the letters, Felicity then decides it’s not the right time and can always ask Sara about this later. 

For now, she intends to sleep with no care in the world, though it’s easier said than done. 

Summertime is almost over in Star City, with the number of festivals dwindling down and with the school year about to start. The days are still warm but as usual Felicity has yet to enjoy any of it since she’s been working nonstop. She’s beginning to feel burnt out from the amount of work she’s received and she’s angry she hasn’t been able to enjoy her summer at all. Most of the time she’s been afraid of making plans, worried she’ll have to cancel at the last minute, but her lack of plans just means more time to work on projects. It’s a never ending cycle of wake, work, sleep. 

It’s also been nearly two months since Laurel and Tommy broke up and in those two months Laurel got hired as, ironically, a divorce lawyer. Quentin recently came by their apartment to visit and he couldn’t resist making a couple of jokes about Laurel representing him whenever she’s mad at her mother. Felicity thought it was hilarious but it didn’t go over too well with Laurel. 

Laurel, too, has been working nonstop at her new firm which has brought a sense of relief for Felicity. At least she knows Laurel will be busy and can put her energy into something different as opposed to dwelling on Tommy, Sara, her parent’s divorce or a multitude of other problems Felicity doesn’t know about. Still, Felicity isn’t blind and sees Laurel drinking more than one glass almost every night and becoming withdrawn as the days pass. 

Despite living together they haven’t had much time to catch up on anything, but Felicity tries to order some takeout whenever their schedules align or do something fun over the weekend. But more often than not, Felicity’s the one who has to cancel since she has to work. She feels— knows —they’re drifting apart but she isn’t sure if it’s due to the breakup, adulthood or both. There’s a small, naive part of her hoping this is a hump they can get past, but everything seems to point to the contrary. 

And the thought sends her spiraling into a panic she can’t get out of. 

Grabbing her carryon from the overhead bin (while tripping and almost falling onto someone’s lap no less), Felicity manages to disembark from the plane without further incident. Well, she did run into someone who was staring at the departure screens once she left her gate, and also managed to bump into no less than three people while walking to exit, but overall not a bad start. Which is saying something.

One of Felicity’s projects she’s been working on for the past several months is almost over, which is why she’s in Central City for a short trip as she’s going to present her data to the Servers and Infrastructure team. She’s only staying for one day—tomorrow she’ll go into the office and present her data, then leave by 9 AM the following day for her flight at 10:45. It's a short trip but when she told McKenna she was coming, McKenna begged Felicity to stay at her place and wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Although Felicity enjoys traveling she hates attending and/or leading these one off meetings. More often than not the meetings can be contentious as teams have to either redo how their systems may be set up, create a whole new set of compliance procedures that’ll undoubtedly waste their time, or a combination of both. And sometimes—actually, several times—men love to interrupt Felicity and she’s this close to her breaking point. God help the next person who interrupts her at this next meeting. 

It’s evening time now but the airport is surprisingly busy. As she waits for McKenna to pick her up in front of the terminal, Felicity browses through social media to pass time. Scrolling through her Twitter timeline, she sees an article a blogger retweeted from DailyMail about no other than Oliver Queen. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she reads the headline—“Oliver Queen Says ‘Women Aren’t Prepared’ for Leadership Roles”—and opens up the article. 

Skimming through it, she notices there was a private leadership summit in Switzerland in which Oliver was a guest speaker. The panel Oliver was a speaker at discussed how Millennials can navigate working alongside Boomers and bring change to organizations, as well as the hardships that might come with it.  Nothing jumps out at her except one particular, offending quote:

“Audience members say when asked what women with executive level positions can do to steer companies away from outdated playbooks, Queen said ‘[women] aren’t prepared for what comes into the boardroom.’ After Twitter erupted in uproar Queen tweeted, ‘My comments at the summit were grossly misrepresented. I firmly believe women are an asset 2 every organization & would never say something to disparage women.’ In the following tweet Queen added, ‘I was asked what are some challenges women face & I said they aren’t prepared for the boardroom bc they've been excluded from it for so long. We need to listen to women and to always have them in the room when important decisions are being made.’”

Scoffing to herself, Felicity’s positive his tweets were engineered by his PR team—Oliver doesn’t have the bandwidth to come up with a statement like that. Besides, she knows from personal experience Oliver doesn’t like to date smart women and he’s certainly made disparaging comments before, most notably about her. 

Before she can stew over Oliver’s comments some more, a car pulls up right in front of her and she’s greeted with McKenna’s cheerful face. 

“Felicity!”

“McKenna!”

Hopping out of the car, McKenna rushes over to Felicity and pulls her into a fierce hug. God, she missed her so much and she’s grateful to be here. Letting go of McKenna, Felicity realizes she’s wearing her police uniform and can't resist making a joke. "Hey Officer, I've been a bad girl—are you going to handcuff me?"

"Sorry honey but you're not my type."

They laugh while McKenna grabs Felicity’s carryon and goes to put her luggage in the trunk. McKenna then goes to sit in the driver’s seat and Felicity follows suit, sitting down in the car and excited she gets to spend time, albeit very little, with her friend. 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Felicity.”

“Ugh me too. I really hate going to work and knowing you’re not there. I have no one else to waste my time with.”

“Aw. I hope Jerry isn’t fucking things up for you, though.” Chuckling, Felicity can only shake her head because there have been a couple of times Jerry hasn’t done something she’s asked or messed something up. 

As McKenna drives away, she turns on the radio and says, “So I’ve got a bit of a problem—I was supposed to have a daytime shift but something changed. Now I'm supposed to start the night shift which means we might not be able to hang out that much.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Rolling down the window and enjoying the warm air Felicity adds, “I know I’m only here for tomorrow, but I’ll come back early from the office and hang out with you until your next shift.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ve made you a pair of keys and the doorman knows you’ll be staying with me, so feel free to come and go whenever you want. 

Nodding, Felicity goes to lower the volume so she can hear McKenna amidst the city sounds and radio. “Thanks a lot. What time does your shift start?”

“10 PM and I’m supposed to finish by 6 AM.” Taking a piece of gum out of her purse she pops the gum in her mouth, throws the wrapper in the backseat and shrugs. “Hopefully nothing happens this week and I can take a nap or two in the cruiser.”

It still shocks her that McKenna is about to become a police officer. She doesn’t know the first thing about being an officer, but she’s curious to know if her friend is enjoying her time. “How’s it going though? Are the guys treating you okay?”

Squeezing the steering wheel a little too hard, McKenna keeps a trained eye on the road but her eyes harden. “I guess . . . I’m too pretty for them because they won’t stop making comments about it. And some of the female recruits haven’t been nice.”

“Seriously?” Shaking her head in disappointment, Felicity isn’t surprised the recruits haven’t been welcoming but it hurts to know McKenna’s been having a hard time. She was so excited to start a new chapter in her life and to know she’s already hit a couple of roadblocks upsets Felicity. “You would think they would all band together in solidarity.”

“Yeah, but they probably don’t even know what solidarity means, much less know how to spell it.”

Felicity smirks and tries to lighten the mood. “At least you got your one super nerdy but totally awesome friend here.” 

Grinning, McKenna turns her head to face Felicity, and for a moment Felicity’s convinced they’re back at QC, shooting the shit and not caring about anything for a few blissful minutes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ah, just like old times. 

One of the perks of visiting another office is being able to actually work a 9 to 5 job, and today Felicity’s in no hurry to get there. However, she’s desperate to get her coffee fix because the coffee available at McKenna’s was subpar to say the least, but to her surprise there’s a lack of Starbucks in Central City. There is, however, a coffee shop called Jitters (an apt name) available almost every other block. 

Luckily there’s a location not too far from QC’s office, so after admiring the cute decor and ordering a latte from their robust menu, Felicity feels ready to take on the day—

Gasping, Felicity’s aware something has gone wrong but doesn’t know how any of it happened. One minute she’s about to head out the door, and the next she’s spilling her $7 latte on someone’s shirt, and she just knows her day is not off to a great start. “I’m so sorry!”

“Ah shit—Um, don’t worry about it. I'm the idiot who ran into you.”

Her face flushing from embarrassment, she’s glad she avoided disaster but the same can’t be said for her victim. As she gathers her bearings, Felicity notices her coffee spilled even on their white shoes which, to her dismay, look brand new. 

“I even got your shoes dirty,” she bemoans. Taking a step back she realizes almost everyone at the shop is staring and there’s a small crowd around them as customers need to leave. Moving to the side, Felicity takes her cup and places it on the table nearest to her, and gathers a fistful of napkins. She immediately goes to dab the coffee off this person’s shirt when she realizes A) they have abs B) she's touching them without their consent, and C) she’s doing all of this without even seeing what they look like.

Looking up, Felicity steps back and sees that her victim is male, ungodly tall and super cute. He’s got soft brown hair and kind eyes, and he gives off a nerdy, videogamer vibe that she’s instantly attracted to. He’s got a bemused expression on his face, probably due to Felicity making the situation even more awkward. Momentarily distracted Felicity mumbles, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you and your . . . perfect abs without your consent.” 

“It’s cool, but thanks for acknowledging my barely there abs.” 

Reddening under his gaze, Felicity gives a shy smile and places the wet napkins on the table. “I’m only visiting the Queen Consolidated office for today, so feel free—”

“Oh, you work at QC?” The man’s eyes brighten and he shoves a hand in his pocket. The longer they stand there the more Felicity realizes his shirt is damaged beyond repair. At least Felicity’s able to get a good view of his abs since his soaking wet shirt is clinging on all the dips and curves. “Do you know Oliver Queen? I mean, I probably shouldn’t expect everyone who works at QC to know him . . . not sure why I asked that though.” 

Laughing nervously, he grabs a napkin from the table and tries to dab the coffee off his shirt, but gives up once he sees his efforts are pointless. Her mind running in circles, Felicity wonders if this guy knows Oliver on a personal level and tries to test out her theory. “I’ve . . . met him a few times, yes.”

“Awesome! Yeah, he’s a great guy.” Adjusting his shoulder bag, he gives a tight smile and tries to pretend his whole outfit hasn’t been fucked. “He’s become kind of my mentor over the years.” 

Oliver, a mentor? And to this random guy? “Do you work at QC?”

“No, I'm a CSI at the police department.”

“Nice! Between you and I, is being a CSI kind of like—”

“The show?” He grins, probably because he’s heard this comment a million times. “Nah, I’m always stuck in my lab, you know, labbing away and doing nothing as cool as the show.” 

Coffee Guy is too cute to be real and Felicity finds herself wanting to wrap him in a hug. But she’s still curious to know more about Oliver, and ignoring the fact that she’s going to be late for work, Felicity tries to steer the conversation back to He Who Must Not Be Named But Sort Of Because Felicity’s Nosy. “Um, so, how do you know . . .?”

“Right, he—um, he helped me and my dad a while back.” Various emotions flicker across his face, from bittersweet and sad to finally a neutral facade. “We—well, my dad—was in a really tight spot and Oliver basically saved my dad.”

“Wow, that’s great.” She’s forgotten all about the spilled coffee and being late for work, because this conversation has taken a very unique turn and Felicity’s not sure if it’s in a good way. There’s a part of her wanting to ask Coffee Guy exactly how Oliver saved his dad but senses it’s something painful and dark.

“Yeah, Oliver’s super helpful. He doesn’t act like it but trust me, he’s got a soft heart.” Felicity looks at him to see if he’s joking but to her dismay he’s not. Coffee Guy seems a little too obsessed with Oliver, which is strange because it’s normally fangirls with no lives who can’t seem to talk about him.

“Actually, Oliver was telling me the other day he saved his friend from getting too involved with their girlfriend because she was super toxic apparently.”

Time stops for a moment—she hears chatter and the blender whirring furiously, though all sounds go from one ear and out the other. She can feel her toes digging into her shoes and the bag she’s carrying on her arm is beginning to weigh heavily. Nothing exists except one all consuming thought: is he talking about Tommy and Laurel?

Gathering every bit of resolve she has, Felicity prepares herself for an answer she’s positive will destroy her, and more importantly, Laurel. “Which—Which friend?”

“Oh, I think it’s Tommy Merlyn?” 

Her stomach drops to the floor while her throat closes up, and Felicity has an overwhelming urge to scream out into the void. So this is what it feels like to have your heart ripped from your chest. She should’ve known better than to ask, but Coffee Guy’s confirmation helps her put all the pieces together. It was Oliver who encouraged Tommy to break up with Laurel. It was Oliver’s actions that have caused Laurel to slowly spiral down a path even Felicity’s afraid she might not be able to get out of. It was Oliver who destroyed Laurel’s happiness for his own selfish reasons. It was— 

“Anyway, Oliver was saying he felt his girlfriend wasn’t giving the same amount of energy to the relationship as Tommy was. So his friend broke it off.”

In all the ways she was shocked frozen she suddenly feels an urgent need to run out of here. Fast. Whether Felicity needs to puke or grab a bottle of alcohol from the nearest convenience store, she knows she has to leave. “I—I’m sorry, but I have to go and—” Brushing past Coffee Guy, she realizes she’s being rude and asks, “What’s your name?” 

“Bartholo—Barry! My name’s Barry.”

Nodding, Felicity gives a half wave and tries to say goodbye in a tactful manner, but she can’t focus on anything but Barry’s / Coffee Guy’s  bombshell. “Sorry for your shirt and I . . .”

Forget it. Walking out of Jitters with no coffee in her hand, Felicity walks toward QC’s office in a daze, her steps disjointed. As her mind attempts to process all that she learned, Felicity realizes this day just went from bad to worse and it hasn’t even started. 

Although Felicity’s computer is on she doesn’t have anything open and only moves her mouse every 10 minutes so she looks active on Teams. She can’t focus on anything. She can’t bring herself to grab a snack from the breakroom or even go for a second (or third) cup of coffee. There’s no point in pretending to function because she just can’t.

There’s a certain kind of power in finally knowing the truth. In all the ways Felicity is confused, angry and hurt, she feels some sort of control over her life now. For a while, Felicity felt like her relationship with Laurel was slipping through her fingers and she couldn’t pinpoint the root cause. At least now she knows Oliver ruined Laurel’s happiness and can do something about it. 

Whether she chooses to tell Laurel remains to be seen, considering Laurel’s not in any emotional capacity to deal with this. However, she doesn’t want to be someone who makes decisions for Laurel when it’s not in her place to do so. Yet, after seeing Laurel slowly withdraw with each passing day, Felicity can’t bear to tell her this. Even if Laurel somehow snaps out of her daze and stops drinking, telling Laurel would hurt her in more ways than one. 

Felicity’s never dealt with a dilemma like this before and she’s at a loss. But she knows one thing: Oliver Queen is the absolute worst person and she’s going to tear him apart limb by limb.

It must take a certain amount of ego to convince your best friend to break off a relationship. And not only convince said friend, but to feel it’s within their right to do so. Felicity just learned a horrible truth and she’s struggling to tell the truth to Laurel. But Oliver? Oh, Oliver felt justified to stick his nose into someone else’s relationship when no one asked him to. Worst of all, Oliver doesn’t have to deal with the fallout—he can continue living out his fantasy of being America’s biggest douchebag with no care in the world.

He even had the audacity to say Laurel and Tommy’s relationship was toxic, and Felicity’s struggling to understand where that came from. Oliver doesn’t know the first thing about relationships, so it’s only natural he views any form of disagreement as toxic. This is further proof Oliver will pull anything out of his ass to destroy people’s lives. 

With a renewed sense of energy, Felicity tries to prepare for her presentation while thinking of ways she can ruin Oliver. As she sets up the projector in the conference room and places a copy of the slide deck in front of each seat, she wonders if she should be really mean and contact a tabloid site to spill all she knows about Oliver. Then, as she’s reviewing her notes she wonders if she should instead hack into his trust fund and keep the money for herself. And even when she’s in the middle of presenting, Felicity daydreams about burning down however many luxury cars he owns, and envisions herself cackling at his misfortune. 

(If there’s one thing Felicity’s known for it’s not for a lack of imagination.) 

Just as she’s about to conclude on her preliminary remarks, the door to the conference room opens up to which Felicity pays no mind. It might be an assistant or a latecomer, though Felicity was under the impression everyone who needed to be here was already in attendance. But as the tall figure comes closer, she realizes it’s no other than Oliver Queen. 

Kill me right now.

Her vision blurs from anger and she doesn’t know what else. God, she can’t believe her luck—what on earth is Oliver doing in Central City, let alone in her meeting? He has no reason to be here. His job description doesn’t include meeting with people below his paygrade, especially since dealing with servers and network infrastructure isn’t his expertise (and never will be). And the absolute gall he has to stroll in fifteen minutes late to her meeting sets Felicity off. 

He sits in the only remaining chair not too far from her, plops his unopened laptop on the table and reclines all the way back as if he’s watching a movie at his personal home theater. Clenching her jaw, Felicity glares at Oliver for nonchalantly ruining her meeting she spent months preparing for. Her skin burns from frustration and annoyance, and there's nothing she can do about it. Everyone else in the meeting glances around and are also shocked by Oliver’s presence. 

Distracted all over again, Felicity attempts to ignore Oliver and resume her presentation. “Um . . . As I was saying, we’re severely underprepared and we need to implement DR procedures as soon as possible. There’s legacy code no one has touched since this company was founded, and in the event there’s a company-wide disaster we can’t have everything breaking.”

“Yeah, uh, one second—I know I’m new to this and late to the party, but what does DR mean?”

You’ve got to be kidding me. He must have a lot of balls to ask a very simple question Google could answer for him in a meeting such as this. Even all the other meeting attendees warily look at each other, wondering why Oliver Queen is in a meeting he doesn’t need to, much less should be in if he’s asking these kinds of questions. 

“Disaster recovery.”

“Right . . . and do we need it now?”

A dull, throbbing headache is beginning to form and it’s 100 percent due to Oliver’s idiotic presence. Felicity wouldn’t be here presenting this information if she didn’t get explicit approval from Walter Steele and QC’s board to research all the areas in need of a robust DR plan. It’s her job to coordinate the next phase of this project. And more importantly, yes, QC does need to implement a DR plan as soon as possible. Which is why she was asked to spearhead this project in the first place. 

“As I mentioned in my presentation, we need to have procedures in place to prevent losing our data in the event of a worldwide disaster, considering we’re a multibillion dollar company and the whole world relies on our expertise.” 

The room goes quiet and all eyes, including Oliver’s, are on her. Over to the side she hears someone clicking their pen and a gentle cough, but other than that it’s dead silent right now. Felicity can feel her skin erupting in goosebumps, but whether it’s from anger or Oliver’s piercing stare she doesn’t know. She abhors how she’s unable to control her reactions, mental and physical, whenever Oliver’s around. Everything about this situation makes her feel so out of her depths and she wants nothing more than to go back in time before she met Oliver.

Clearing her throat, Felicity tries to regain control of the meeting Oliver rudely interrupted. “So, if we could—”

“I have another ques—

“Mr. Queen, I would be happy to explain this further during a session when we’re not pressed for time.” 

The moment those words leave her mouth she regrets them, not because she insulted Oliver, but she’s worried what everyone else will think. Felicity basically told him he needs a tutoring session and shut him down all in one sentence, and she’s positive no one—not even Oliver—has experienced this in a professional setting. If she wasn’t worried about her job, well, she should now.

Swallowing thickly, Felicity tries to finish her presentation and attempts to ignore the blood rushing to her face. Once she finishes and sits down, Felicity makes a pointed effort to not look at Oliver. To his credit he stays quiet during the discussion but Felicity can practically feel him staring at her. It makes her hot and her skin prickles at the sensation on top of making her blood boil. She wants to sleep, run, scream or do anything besides sitting in this Godforsaken room. 

Towards the end of the meeting Felicity’s gaze accidentally lands on Oliver. His posture now adjusted, he looks at her with narrowed eyes while rubbing his thumb and index fingers together. Unnerved but not daunted, Felicity glares back with all the intensity she can muster and just then his lips part open, probably due to shock. If she didn’t know better he looks pissed. 

And she considers that a job well done. 

The restaurant is packed and it’s impossible to have a decent conversation right now, not that Felicity feels like having one. Felicity would rather be back at McKenna’s, but she texted an hour ago saying she got pulled in for a shift she can’t get out of. Due to this, Felicity decided to go out to happy hour with the team she presented to earlier today.

Berating herself for agreeing to this, she sullenly watches everyone having a good time while she’s got a million other thoughts inside her head. Felicity already ordered a drink and cheese fries but she doubts that’ll make her feel any better. There’s no reason for her to be here, but she knows if she’s stuck in a silent apartment she’ll go down a rabbit hole of questions and theories, and can’t afford to lose her mind at this moment. The only way she can keep her sanity (at least for the time being) is by staying occupied, even if this is the last place she would like to be at. It also seems like everyone else has gotten the memo Felicity’s upset because they’ve largely left her alone. In the back of her mind she knows she’s coming off as rude but she’s past caring at this point. She’s allowed to have a bad day and this one is definitely up there. 

All of a sudden there’s some commotion and a couple of waitresses come around with drinks and appetizers. Felicity cranes her neck to see if her cheese fries are there but to her dismay they’re missing. Taking a look around, she spots everyone else looking at the trays of food and drinks in confusion—these aren’t the items everyone had ordered. 

Just as everyone is trying to understand the situation Oliver comes up behind the waitresses with an annoying grin plastered on his smarmy face. Closing her eyes in defeat, Felicity has come to the conclusion she did something horrible in her past life to be running into Oliver so often. She came to happy hour for the sole purpose of not dealing with Oliver and the problems he caused, yet he’s here nonetheless. 

Taking a deep breath, Felicity opens up her eyes and notices the entire table watches the scene unfold with apprehension. He’s not wearing his suit jacket and continues to grin as if he’s cured cancer, all while holding a pretentious can of White Claw. Placing a hand on the shoulder of a waitress, Oliver ignores everyone’s stares and explains, “Thought I’d drop by and treat you all as a thank you for your hard work. This one’s on me.” 

The entire table goes quiet—is he mad that no one invited him and secretly plans to poison everyone? But a second later the table erupts in a chorus of “Thanks Oliver!” and they greedily take the free drinks and food, pretending Oliver’s their favorite person in the world. Eyeing the spectacle in disdain, Felicity’s unable to stop her blood pressure from rising and the ringing in her ears increases with each passing second. It’s a very Oliver thing to buy people’s loyalty and she’s so fucking sick of him. 

Grabbing her handbag, Felicity slides off the stool while her coworkers continue to make a mad dash for food and drinks. Not bothering to say goodbye, Felicity stomps around the table and makes a beeline for the exit. Keeping her head low she’s aware of passing Oliver by, and for some inexplicable reason a sense of deep longing washes over her. Confused, Felicity continues to walk out of there as her need to escape overpowers this strange new sensation. 

Once she exits the bar she inhales deeply and tries to get her bearings together in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. She can’t seem to rid herself of Oliver’s presence no matter how much she tries. Every time Felicity sees his face it’s another reminder of all the terrible things he’s done to Roy, Laurel, Tommy and even herself. It infuriates her to know Oliver doesn’t understand how his actions have affected everyone who comes in contact with him, and that he continues to live his life with no care in the world. Most of all, it’s not fair to anyone that Oliver gets to be happy while they suffer from his carelessness. 

Not wanting to dwell on her problems on the middle of a sidewalk, Felicity begins to walk away from the restaurant in hopes of clearing her mind when she hears someone call out her name. 

“Felicity!”

Stopping in her tracks, Felicity closes her eyes in exasperation and attempts to ready herself for what’s going to happen next. All she wants is to go back to McKenna’s and drink from whatever alcohol selection she might have, hate Oliver some more and blissfully go back to sleep. She left for the sole purpose of staying away from Oliver and yet he refuses to leave her alone.

Turning around, Felicity comes face to face with Oliver and tries not to betray her emotions. “Yeah.”

The sun is beginning to set and under the golden light Oliver looks like a Greek god bathing in its rays. From this vantage point he looks young and unbothered—his hair is tousled in an Instagramable way, and his collared shirt is unbuttoned to give a peek into what his chest might look like. Groaning to herself, Felicity gives up trying to berate herself for finding Oliver attractive despite everything about him. She knows her attraction won’t lead to anything and it will never change the fact that Oliver’s a horrible person. Some things are unforgivable, such as ruining her best friend’s happiness, being a general douchebag and denying someone’s mother lifesaving treatment due to selfish reasons.  

Wary and cautious, Oliver suddenly steps forward but maintains a normal distance. “I, um, is everything all right? I noticed you left in a hurry.”

No shit you blithering idiot. “Just need a nap after a long day's work.”

“Of course. I couldn’t relate.” Chuckling to himself, Oliver sobers up once he realizes Felicity isn’t laughing alongside him. Stepping forward once more, he opens his mouth but closes it as if he’s discarding a million other awkward and privileged things to say.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Oliver gives a shy smile and takes a deep breath. “I, uh—I’m usually never this nervous considering I've never had to ask anyone this before, but it’s been absolute torture to keep it to myself for so long.” 

Her heart drops to her stomach—no, just no. Her palms moisten in nervousness and her vision swims. There’s no way Oliver is going to say what she thinks he will. It’s like watching a car accident in slow motion and there’s nothing she can do to stop it from happening. 

“I only came to Central City because I knew you’d be here. You’re typically not the kind of girl I go after, and I know you’re just an employee at my family’s company, not to mention you can’t string a single sentence without embarrassing yourself and everyone around you, but I . . . do have feelings for you.”

Her heart is beginning to beat painfully beneath her chest and she feels like she needs to sit down to process everything. She’s only aware of the simple things—sounds of laughter coming from the restaurant, cars zooming past them on the street and distant sirens. “I’m . . . what?”

“Would you like—will you go out with me?”

God, he really did the unthinkable—after ruining any chance of happiness Laurel may have had with Tommy, and being a general piece of shit to anyone he thinks is beneath him, he had the audacity to ask Felicity out right after insulting her. Laughter bubbles up to the surface but she quickly tamps it down since this is anything but absurdly funny. She’s not sure what caused Oliver to suddenly like Felicity but it pisses her off. 

Who is he to think Felicity would say yes? She’s his employee and that fact alone should give him pause, and from the moment he met her Oliver made it clear he wasn’t interested. Every subsequent meeting afterwards was brief but he made no effort to hide his disdain for others he didn’t already know, said weird and privileged things in an effort to appear funny, and has continuously shown he’s a boring frat boy living out a life only money and status can get him. He denied Roy’s mother from getting the care she needed, had a part to play in having Laurel and Tommy break up, and can’t not be the center of attention for more than two seconds. And to top it off, he said Felicity’s not the kind of girl he would typically go for, as if she should be thankful he’s giving her a chance. 

And to even ask in the first place . . . He’s such an egotistical prick.   

Clutching her handbag a little tighter and hardening her resolve, Felicity gathers every bit of courage she has in her knowing this could blow back on her and potentially ruin her career. “I’m sorry you’ve been struggling with your feelings for me. It wasn’t intentional.”

“Okay.” To his credit Oliver betrays no emotion but she knows better. A guy like him doesn’t take rejection too lightly. Rubbing his chin, Oliver tilts his head to the side and takes a step forward. “Are—Are you saying no?"

“Yes.”

“To me ?”

Scoffing, Felicity can’t resist from shaking her head in disbelief. Oliver may be a rich trust fund baby with privileges very few people have, but he’s just like any other man unaccustomed to rejection. “I'm sure all the reasons why it was so hard for you to ask me out will also help you get over me.” 

That does it—the nature of this conversation has changed and there’s no turning back from this. Oliver’s eyes narrow and she’s positive he’s calculating all the ways this has turned sideways. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’re holding back?”

“And maybe I should ask after insulting me why you thought it was acceptable to still ask me out?”

“I swear I didn’t mean it that way.”

Just then a group of people passes them up on the street and Felicity suddenly realizes they’re having a disagreement in the middle of Central City. Anyone could overhear them but she’s so angry that she couldn’t care less about appearances.

Focusing back on Oliver she sees that he’s clenching and unclenching his jaw, and it delights Felicity that he’s having a hard time with this conversation. It may be the only difficult thing in life he’s experienced. “It’s—Do you think it was easy asking you out knowing you’re an employee at my company and this could blow back on me?”

How dare he. How. Dare. He. Oliver owns the company and could get away with murder if he wanted to, and he’s worried about how dating a lowly employee—an employee he personally asked out—would make him look? Felicity has fought tooth and nail to get to where she’s at. She grew up poor and disenfranchised, and despite everything going against her she managed to claw her way out. It took perseverance and plenty of luck to land where she’s at in life, and it still takes an indescribable amount of energy to keep her place in society. And Oliver could never understand that. 

Taking a dangerous step towards Oliver, Felicity grits out, “I'm not sure how it can be so hard for you when you’re not the one who needs to actually work their way up the ladder.”

“Wow.”

Oliver’s angry now—his shoulders have squared up and he stands completely rigid, like he’ll break if he moves. The air, which is already humid from remnants of the warm summer months, is rife with tension and electricity that’ll burst with a perfect spark.

But that may have already happened.

“And besides, I have plenty of other reasons for rejecting you other than what you said.”

“Such as?”

She has to wonder what it feels like to have a clear conscience. “Did you expect me to not find out you encouraged Tommy to break up with Laurel because you felt it was within your right to do so?”

He visibly balks at Felicity’s accurate accusation but manages to school his features, and somehow that irritates her more. “Tommy made his choice and I’m not responsible for that. I only advised him when he needed me to.”

“You’re the one who suggested breaking up with Laurel to him!” Of fucking course he won’t take any responsibility for ruining Laurel’s happiness. She doesn’t doubt it would physically ache him to admit his wrongdoing and he’s proving her right at this very moment. “How are you not responsible for that?”

Annoyed, Oliver takes another step forward and they’re close enough to where Felicity can see his blue eyes storming with intensity, deep and dark like uncharted oceans. “I won’t apologize for saving my best friend—my brother — from a toxic relationship.”

There it is again, Oliver and his favorite word. She’s feeling pretty reckless and mean. “I know you’re incapable of having serious relationships, but there was nothing toxic about theirs—

“Nothing toxic? Laurel was the one who continuously shamed Tommy into doing things he didn’t want to—”

“How rich of you to blame Laurel for Tommy’s shortcomings, she didn’t force or shame him to do anything. Tommy’s an adult and can choose when to throw galas.”

Oliver shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please, you know the only reason why he did it is because Laurel told him to! She shamed him into doing something he has no experience over. She’s always judged him for how rich he is.”

Caught off guard, Felicity knows he’s partially right and she can’t argue against it. Laurel did tell Tommy to throw a gala, but according to Laurel that was only after he mentioned wanting to do something meaningful. But Felicity won’t let Oliver defame her friend and say something that’s not true.

“You’re like any other man, always trying to tell everyone else what they think. How could you even know Laurel judged Tommy for being rich when you’ve only spoken to her a handful of times?”

Taking a deep breath, Felicity steps back to allow some room and clarity because being wrapped up in Oliver’s shadow (and broad shoulders and massive arms) is doing more harm than good. 

“I’m Tommy’s best friend and he felt Laurel judged him for not acting like she would if she had a lot of money. How is that not judging someone for being rich?” 

This is not how this argument was supposed to go. Oliver’s supposed to be an idiot who’s unable to string a coherent sentence together, not inadvertently call Felicity out for being prejudiced against rich people. She just—she doesn’t want to judge anyone for how they got rich, especially if it’s inherited wealth since there’s not much they can do about it. But she would be lying if she hasn’t at all judged Oliver, such as not having to struggle in life and for little things like not recycling. And she knows Laurel’s made comments about Tommy not going to grad school and finding it hard to throw a gala, which in hindsight is pretty judgmental. 

He’s right and she’s . . . wrong. But she doesn’t want to admit that, least of all to Oliver.

“Laurel went to grad school, passed the bar, juggled a slew of family issues and still managed to make Tommy a priority for her. So, I think you can see why she had a hard time relating to Tommy.” 

“Actually—”

“And even if she and Tommy were going through a rough patch it still wasn’t your business to get involved in, especially since you’ve added another stressor in her life which is the last thing she needed!”

Felicity doesn’t know how and if she should mention Laurel’s been spiraling out of control for the past two months since Tommy broke up with her. Oliver already has a low opinion of Laurel and she doesn’t want to add fuel to the fire, but there’s no doubt in her mind the breakup affected Laurel in more ways than one. She just wants him to know his actions have truly hurt Laurel.

“Oh come on, you know having issues with Tommy wasn’t the only thing that made things worse for her.”

“What other things? That she was unemployed and comes from a middle class family?”

Oliver, surprised by her glare and the venom in her words, flinches. “No, I wouldn’t—”

“Then what?”

Glancing off to the side, he looks back at Felicity with his mouth pressed into a thin line. “It was her pitiful, drunk behavior at the gala which made her a laughing stock in front of some of the most powerful people in the entire country, and that kind of—”

“As if you and Tommy haven’t made an entire career of being sloppy drunks!” 

“—behavior—at least we’re trying to change that by working at our companies or starting new business ventures!” 

Oliver steps into her space again, his eyes blazing with intensity, and she can feel his anger emanating off of him. “What happened at the gala is nothing short of humiliating for both Laurel and Tommy. He doesn’t need to be associated with an alcoholic as he’s in the middle of trying to make a name for himself, and neither do you when higher ups at QC are taking notice of you.”

Blinking, Felicity releases a breath she didn’t notice she was holding onto, her heart wildly beating beneath her chest. Oliver, too, recognizes he’s been in Felicity’s face and exhales loudly while straightening himself. Regret clouds his face and she sees his arm go up once, twice as if he’s trying to reach out to her. His chest rises and falls, matching her rhythm, and she just knows things will never be the same between them. 

“I—It’s not your fault for what happened or the choices Laurel makes.”

So this is what he thinks of Laurel and by extension of her: someone who’s in the midst of damaging her career by associating herself with Laurel, who he rudely called an alcoholic, among being a nerdy know-it-all who’s just a lowly QC employee. Everything Felicity’s experienced up till now lines up exactly with the kind of man she thought him to be. Oliver thoroughly disgusts her and she can’t stand the sight of him. 

This fight is ugly but Felicity’s unable to stop. He has done nothing but insult her, ruin her best friend’s happiness, taken the liberty of even interrupting her meeting all because he can, and continues to stand there as if he has the right to. She wants to hurt him because he’s made her feel and deal with so many . . . things since she’s met him, and this is the only way she knows how to get back at him.

“And what about Roy Harper?”

The air shifts as quickly as an incoming storm—Oliver goes from looking apologetic to downright murderous. For a moment Felicity regrets mentioning Roy based on Oliver’s reaction to his name, but she wants him to know she has the power to spill this secret to anyone at any time. Cocking his head to the side, Oliver’s eyes flit back and forth between hers, and if she didn’t know any better he seems afraid of what Felicity might say next. “What about him?”

“Just admit it, you ruined his life!” 

“Oh yeah you’re right, I did.” Scoffing, his eyes narrow and he sneers, “What sob story did he tell you this time: I made him eat dirt when we were kids?”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Felicity’s unable to comprehend the depth of Oliver’s cruelty. “How can you mock him? You made his mom suffer—”

“ Fuck , you would rather believe what everyone else has to say about me instead of—”

“I don’t need to believe anyone when I have my own experience to go off of!”

Stepping forward, Felicity’s close enough to Oliver where she can see the pores on his face, the curvature of his lips and his eyes—normally soft and light—darken. A shot of adrenaline hits her body, which is already trembling from heightened emotions, and before she knows it she’s blurting out all that she hates about Oliver with not a single regard for her livelihood or his feelings.

“From the moment I met you—your arrogance, your immaturity, your treatment for others who are less privileged than you, even your inability to not interrupt my meeting—made me realize if we were the last two people on this entire planet, I would rather starve to death than willingly lower my standards and go on a date with you, much less spend one second!” 

Inhale. Exhale. 

A car blasting loud music drives by, laughter can be heard across the street and a whiff of old rotting garbage from the alley hits her senses, except Felicity’s not aware of anything else but Oliver. Looking up at him, she watches his skin shine under the golden light and wonders what his hair might feel like under her fingers. For a brief moment she imagines her hand softly grazing his jaw, but her chest constricts painfully the second she sees how wounded his eyes are

Gasping, her breath catches in her throat as Felicity’s stomach rolls with nausea. She’s not sure if she wants to puke or cry; she could probably do both considering the look on Oliver’s face makes her want to curl up in a corner. Or . . .

Oliver’s eyes glaze over in shock as he realizes the full weight of her words. And for the first time since she’s come to know him, Oliver’s presence—which is normally so commanding—shrinks to something small and timid. Watching him physically and mentally retreat causes bile to come up in her throat, burning her esophagus and leaving her with an acidic aftertaste that’s compounded by her horrific behavior. 

She did exactly what she set out to do and feels thoroughly disgusted with herself. She’s not someone who hurts others just because she can. This isn’t who she is. Regret overcomes her and she wants to reach out to Oliver, to let him know she didn’t—that she—

She hurt him. God, she really hurt him. 

Oliver leans down a bit, which causes Felicity’s heart to start racing all over again, and his lips part open though he says nothing. Her breath catching in her throat, she’s hit with an overwhelming sense of longing all over again, and wants to reach out to Oliver in any way she can. 

But she lost the right to do so when she listed all the reasons why she hates him. 

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Straightening himself, his gaze falls to the floor and she can see him swallow as he attempts to compose himself. Glancing back at her, Felicity notices his face looks soft and tired, like he has nothing more to give. “Have a safe flight back.” 

He takes a step back and in that moment Felicity feels like her whole world is collapsing right in front of her. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but she’s left speechless at her own cruelty. With another soulful glance, Oliver shoves his hands in his pockets and turns, walking past the restaurant and far away from Felicity. With each passing second she sees his figure get smaller, and she watches him until her eyes sting and he’s a tiny dot in her line of sight.

And she’s left with just her and her regrets standing in the middle of a sidewalk. 

Chapter Text

Blinking, Felicity grabs a tissue from the table and dabs a few stray tears from her cheek. Her eyes stinging from the dryness, Felicity continues to stare at the phone screen as she’s frozen in fear. For the first time in her life Felicity doesn’t want to find out what’s on the other side, because she’s learned first hand that her habit of digging around can lead to irreparable consequences. 

The unread email taunts her with each passing second, beckoning Felicity to open it and to just get a taste. Despite the fact she’s really curious to know how Oliver got her personal email address, and sent an email that’ll probably wreck her in more ways than one, she manages to resist the temptation. A part of her knows she’s not in an emotional headspace to open it in the middle of the airport, and there’s also a part of her afraid everything she said last night was irrevocably wrong. And Felicity doesn’t like to be wrong.

After the explosive fight between her and Oliver, Felicity stood in front of the restaurant for several minutes, her mind blank and unable to process what transpired. By the time she called an Uber and sat in the car, she still hadn’t been able to process anything but mostly she just wanted to cry. When Felicity got dropped off at McKenna's apartment, she noticed her legs had turned into jelly and she could barely walk to the door. And when she got to the empty apartment, showered and lay down on the sofa, Felicity still wasn’t able to think about what happened. 

She heard McKenna come back at around 3 at night, but she pretended to be asleep and only hugged the blanket tighter. It wasn’t until 5 am when Felicity managed to close her eyes, but she tossed and turned for an eternity until her alarm went off. When she “woke up” McKenna was fast asleep, so Felicity quietly left for the airport in hopes of being able to escape yesterday’s fight.

And now, Felicity’s sitting at a table in front of the airport’s Starbucks and can’t bring herself to open the email. 

Exiting out of her Gmail app, Felicity goes through the entire ritual of sitting at her gate, boarding, and idly staring out the window as the plane flies overhead in a daze. When the plane lands at the airport she takes the subway back to the city, and when Felicity exits the station she chooses to walk six blocks back to her apartment with her luggage.  

By the time she comes back to her apartment it’s 1:00 in the afternoon, and although Felicity could and should be working, she’s feeling anxious and can’t focus. Making herself a bowl of cereal, Felicity sits on the couch and opens up the email, nervous and afraid of what Oliver’s email will entail. Her heart beating furiously beneath her chest, she begins to read the email and hopes she doesn’t faint from all the emotions ricocheting around in her brain. 

Felicity,

I hope this email finds you well. I wanted to apologize for how things went yesterday, and there are a lot of things I could’ve said differently. 

Relieved the email starts off innocently enough, Felicity continues to read through the rest of Oliver’s email with a little less apprehension. 

I’m not here to convince you I’m a different person than what you already think of me, nor do I plan on offending you by asking you out once more, but of the numerous offenses you accused me of there are two I'd like to clarify: that of Tommy and Laurel’s relationship and of Roy Harper.

When Tommy told me he was falling for Laurel, I was surprised but supportive—I’ve known Tommy my whole life and he deserves every bit of happiness. But Tommy’s sensitive and has been through a lot, so I'm very protective of him especially when it comes to women he’s dating. I’ll admit, I wasn't welcoming to Laurel during our trip to The Hamptons and I thank you for encouraging me to open up. 

God, that feels like forever ago. She remembers Oliver having an attitude with Laurel and her subsequent lecture to Oliver, and was genuinely surprised Oliver was nice to Laurel once she told him to be. Straightening herself on the couch, she continues to eat her cereal and reads through the email, although she’s still an anxious wreck.

But as their relationship progressed Tommy was becoming more and more unhappy, and it was clear to me Laurel had a lot of expectations for Tommy which he simply couldn’t live up to. He already feels inadequate and it hurt me to see him feeling that way with Laurel. I won’t apologize for protecting my best friend—my brother —from a relationship which made him feel unworthy. But please know, I would never judge Laurel for her upbringing and extenuating circumstances. It also wasn’t my intention to cause Laurel any pain and for that I'm truly sorry.

Sighing, Felicity shakes her head in annoyance and tries not to let her agitation get to her. She can see where Oliver is coming from—if Felicity felt Tommy caused Laurel to feel inadequate, or Laurel wasn’t happy in the relationship, she would listen to Laurel and advise her if she asked. But this scenario is contingent on whether Felicity had first hand knowledge of their relationship, and even then it’s still not in Felicity’s place to encourage Laurel to do something she hasn’t personally decided to do. There’s only so much convincing power she has over Laurel which, honestly, isn’t much.  

Reading the paragraph once more, Felicity notices Oliver talks about Tommy as if he’s a glass doll ready to break at any moment. She doesn’t know the dynamics of their friendship but for Oliver to take it upon himself to break Laurel and Tommy apart, and to not recognize his actions have hurt others, irritates her all over again. Oliver is using Tommy’s fragility as an excuse to break up a couple, and if she were Tommy, she would reevaluate Oliver’s presence in her life.    

Shaking her head once more, Felicity continues to read the rest of the email in hopes it explains Oliver’s actions. So far it hasn’t gone off to a good start. 

As for Roy, I suppose it would be better if I started— 

Dropping her phone on the couch, Felicity stares out into her living room because she remembered something she should’ve done a long time ago. Rushing to her bedroom, Felicity turns on her desktop and sits in her chair, which is specifically designed to handle long days at the desk, or in Felicity’s case, long hours spent hacking into databases.

She already knows Roy’s date of birth and Social Security information, including his places of employment. This time around, Felicity needs to hack into several different databases and attempt to cross search her results to find exactly what she needs. The process takes her almost three hours, as it involves hacking into Star City’s hospitals (their security is laughable to say the least), the Social Security Office and the US Postal Office, and by 4:00 she’s feeling sore from being hunched over and staring at her monitors. Regardless, she manages to run a query that’ll probably take another couple of hours to generate a result, so taking out her phone once again, Felicity starts to read the email from where she left off. 

—from the beginning. For as long as I can remember his father, David, was a gardener at our home. My dad loved David and Roy, and I can recall spending several evenings with Roy and my sister, Thea, while playing games in our yard. It was a simpler time back then.

Roy's mother walked out on David and Roy when he was young, and the Glades have never been kind to its inhabitants. Roy was a good kid but life wasn’t easy for him, and when David died Roy all but disappeared. A few years later when Dad died, he gave a large sum to Roy in hopes he might go to college or at least move out of Star City. It was a lot of money for anyone but it was too tempting for Roy.

A year after he was given the money, he told me he was in considerable debt and was worried for his safety. I gladly helped him pay off his debts, but he came back again and again, until finally I realized he was gambling everything away.

After telling him I wouldn’t give him any more money, and satisfied that Roy would no longer come back, I moved abroad but wasn’t aware Roy began to woo Thea the moment I left in hopes of getting more money from her. Once I found out, Roy disappeared yet again and left my sister beyond heartbroken. She was only 16. I believe I don’t need to remind you of the depths of Thea’s despair once she found out. 

Swallowing thickly, Felicity remembers the car accident of the decade in which Thea Queen was found with both cocaine and copious amounts of alcohol in her system. Felicity still remembers the spectacle playing out in the tabloids and her very public stint in rehab. It was nearly five years ago, and since then Thea all but disappeared from the limelight. She can’t imagine having been taken advantage of in such a way at 16 years old. Chewing her lip, Felicity suddenly feels the urge to walk around her apartment and doesn’t want to finish reading the rest of the email. 

The query still running in the background, Felicity tries to do some chores she’s forgotten about in an effort to distract her mind. Eyeing her overflowing laundry bag, Felicity decides to do her laundry; she sorts her clothes into darks and lights, and even goes a step further and takes out delicate items to handwash when she normally sends it to the dry cleaners. 

While she’s handwashing her clothes, Felicity’s mind wanders over to Oliver’s email and she’s tempted to finish reading it. Sometime around 5:00 she gets a text from Laurel, who says she’s having dinner with her mom and won’t come back till much later. Glad she has the apartment to herself for tonight, Felicity continues to procrastinate in an effort to ease her mind. As she watches her clothes spin in the washer, Felicity tries not to think about Oliver’s wounded eyes and his biting words. Even as she makes a pathetic bowl of mac and cheese for dinner, Felicity can’t stop replaying certain moments from their argument: Oliver admitting he liked her and asking her out, Felicity saying she would rather starve than spend a second with him, to the whirlwind of emotions she experienced during their fight. 

By the time she’s done folding her clothes and finishes eating her dinner, the only thing left for her to do is read the rest of Oliver’s email. She goes to her room and eyes her computer—the query is still running but it looks to be almost done. Sitting down on her bed, Felicity takes out her phone and opens the email once more, her mind blank as she tries not to let her emotions overtake her. 

I don’t know what Roy told you and what caused you to believe I hurt him, but this is mine and Thea’s truth, and I hope this convinces you to acquit me of any wrongdoing. But whatever you decide to do with this knowledge, I ask that you please keep Thea in mind—I don’t think I’ll be able to protect Thea from herself if she’s reminded of Roy and his treatment of her.

I wish you nothing but the best for you and I hope in time you can forgive me. Take care, Felicity.

— Oliver

Taking one last look at her computer, Felicity sees the query has stopped running and it’s generated one result. Robotically, she goes over to her computer and stares at the screen, her heart beating so fast she’s afraid she might faint. Blinking furiously, Felicity adjusts her glasses and looks at the screen. There, in small black lettering, Felicity finds out Roy’s mother's last known address was in California from two years ago and she was never diagnosed with cancer. 

Marianne Harper has been alive this whole time.

Closing her eyes in defeat, Felicity finally lets herself cry into oblivion, collapsing on her bed as her sobs are muffled by the blanket covering her mouth. Draping the blanket over her, she hopes it’ll also be able to protect her from the shame she’s feeling. 

It’s been a long time since Felicity has been like . . . this. She’s numb to everything and everyone and can’t muster the energy to be her normal, cheery self. It feels like there’s a brick weighing down on her chest and it’s preventing her from feeling anything. For almost an entire week, Felicity goes to work in a daze, comes back home and works some more before falling asleep late at night. Even Laurel notices her mood is off and leaves Felicity alone.

She can’t stop replaying her argument with Oliver and rereads his email whenever she gets the chance. Felicity hates how she immediately judged Oliver based on what Roy said, and berates herself that she didn’t do her proper research before believing Roy’s claims. She can’t call herself a hacker when she won’t do her job properly. In the back of her mind Felicity knows she chose not to dig around because she wanted to believe Roy’s secret. Hearing how Oliver treated Roy and his very much alive mother gave her fuel to hate Oliver, and it was the perfect secret to make her more prejudiced against him. Her pride prevented her from looking into Roy’s claim, and instead she ended up looking like an idiot in front of Oliver. 

Felicity’s not sure if she can come back from this. The way she yelled at Oliver embarrassed her more than all the other embarrassing things she’s done in the past, and that includes walking around a music festival with a rip in her shorts as big as space and time. She’s no better than one of the hundred different tabloids dramatizing Oliver’s life and she proved how small minded she is. This is a low point for Felicity and she’s angry at herself for not having the foresight to handle this better. 

As for Laurel and Tommy, she’s also all kinds of confused and doesn’t know how to move on from here. Felicity only heard and saw one side of the story, and felt it was appropriate to judge an entire relationship based on that. She knows Laurel’s been having a hard time for a while now, way before there seemed to be any relationship troubles between her and Tommy. As her friend, Felicity should’ve been more observant and not jump to conclusions. 

All this has shown Felicity is that she was utterly wrong in every way. And there’s nothing she can do to fix that. 

Now that Felicity has presented her data to the QC team in Central City, Felicity finally has time to focus on other neglected projects, one of which being Ray Palmer’s microchip tumor eating machine (officially known as Micro Invasive Radiation and Kinetic Lesion Eradicator, or M.I.R.A.K.L.E. for short). As a consultant and someone who manages overall projects, Felicity doesn’t get a chance to work in research and development, even though she’d love to work in the hallowed grounds of QC’s Applied Sciences division one day. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on the time of day), this means Felicity doesn’t have to be involved in the early stages of the project until it’s time to test the effectiveness of it and begin rolling it out to hospitals.

There have been a few meetings with Felicity’s department and Ray Palmer’s team, but Felicity personally hasn’t been privy to any information presented in these meetings. However, Felicity heard QC has been planning to buy out Palmer Tech for at least a year now, which is why Ray’s working with QC’s Applied Sciences division and Felicity’s IT department, and the buyout will be announced soon. This doesn’t affect Felicity’s job just yet, but she sees a lot of people on her floor excited about the project which in turn excites her, something she hasn’t felt since . . . Well. 

She’s busy in her office and wrapping up a few items before her next meeting when she hears a gentle knock on her door. “Come in!” Writing one last sentence before sending out an email, Felicity looks up from the computer and sees Ray Palmer standing by her door.

Felicity’s reddens instantly—her desk is a mess and she wasn’t aware Ray was going to be visiting QC today. She can’t stop herself from recalling Ray’s horrible voicemails to McKenna, and coupled with other whispers in the office about Ray’s pompous attitude, she’s not exactly thrilled to have him here.  “Mr Palmer, it’s good to see you. Can I help you with anything?”

“Please, call me Ray. And would you—do you mind if I . . .?” He continues to stand by the door with a large grin plastered on his face, and gestures to the empty seat in front of her desk.  

“Of course not. Be my guest.”

Felicity’s under the impression he wants to geek out about a myriad of topics, but instead he shuts the door behind him and swiftly sits down. Her stomach lurches—the last time a man wanted to talk to her alone he asked her out and she got her ass handed to her. 

“I hope everything is going well for you.”

“Definitely. I can’t complain when the coffee machine is working properly for once.”

“Ah, an addict—just like me!”

“Well, it depends on what kind of addict because I can assure you being a coffee addict is the only thing I’m willing to go to jail for.” Cringing immediately, Felicity realizes Ray meant he also identified as a coffee addict, not the kind of addict she thought he was referring to. Wanting to clear the air, Felicity adds, “Not that I want to go to jail. Or that I have a reason to.”

(In hindsight she probably shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.)

A boisterous laugh escapes Ray’s lips, and for a moment Felicity thinks it sounds like a weird sound a kangaroo might make. Blech. “Hopefully I don’t go to jail for what I’m going to say next!”

Alarmed by his choice of words, Felicity’s eyes widen in horror but she keeps her mouth shut. Now that she thinks about it, with her door closed Ray can say or do anything in her office. This was a bad idea. 

“I have a question to ask, do you know what happened to McKenna? The secretary?”

Relieved, Felicity relaxes in her seat though she begins to wonder if all the pointless calls he made to McKenna was his way of being friendly with her, or worse wanting to date McKenna. “Oh, right she moved to another city. She’s training to be a police officer.” AKA don’t ask for her number or she’ll throw you in jail. 

“That’s—that’s wonderful news.” Disappointed by Felicity’s bombshell, his eyes suddenly pop up in excitement and he says, “I was hoping to—well, I guess you’ll do.”

“I’ll do what now?”

Panic sets in her bones once more and her mind begins to think of multiple exit routes for multiple scenarios. She’s not sure if he’s being awkward, weird or a combination of both but she’s feeling out of depths even though Felicity’s usually the one who says odd things at the wrong time. This situation feels like it might spiral out of control in any second, and while Felicity’s recently been wrong about a lot of things, she has a feeling she’s right about this. 

Ray, unfazed and unaware of her mind going haywire, continues to speak as if she’s no longer in the room. “Seeing that McKenna is no longer with us—” Felicity frowns at his word choice and starts to get annoyed by his presence the longer he sits, “—I was hoping perhaps you could . . . you and I could go on a date?”

God, are you there? It’s me Felicity Smoak. I’d really like it if you could stop sending billionaires towards my way and ruin any semblance of normalcy I’d undoubtedly like. Thanks for nothing.

Felicity and Anger are well acquainted but now she’s just pissed off. Why do men feel they can bother women and ask them out whenever they feel like it? She’s at work and trying to do her job, and this guy feels it’s in his right to barge into her office and ask Felicity out. This is nothing short of inappropriate and it frustrates her that men can’t see that. More importantly, Felicity’s given zero indication she’s interested in Ray, so for him to ask her out is nothing short of random and inconvenient.  And worst of all, Felicity knows there’s a big chance this could blow back on her and she happens to like her job. 

Gathering up every bit of her resolve and trying not to let her anger show through, Felicity takes a deep breath and gives him a pointed stare. “Mr. Palmer, I don’t think—”

Putting a hand up to signal Felicity to stop talking (Felicity’s blood pressure rises but somehow she manages to stay put) Ray clears his throat and gives another smarmy smile. “Although McKenna is someone I personally would’ve . . .” 

Narrowing her eyes at him, Felicity realizes Ray’s slipup confirms her suspicions—he did like McKenna and wanted to ask her out, but thankfully missed his window of opportunity. 

“At any rate, I’ve been told my optics are lacking to an extent, and being in a relationship with someone as intelligent and beautiful as—”

“Oh no, um Mr. Palmer, I really don’t—”

“—you would be advantageous to someone of my intellect and calibur—”

“Ray, please stop talking!” 

Slamming the lid of her laptop shut, Felicity glares at Ray with all the strength she can muster. Her arms shake with adrenaline and anger, but Ray is completely unfazed and that irritates her even more. “Mr. Palmer, this is very inappropriate to ask an employee and—”

“I know for some females it’s a thing to toy with a man’s heart—”

“I’m a lot of different things but I am not that kind of female, Mr. Palmer.” 

Shaking her head, Felicity is astounded by Ray’s behavior and his inability to see how wrong this entire situation is. For him to ask Felicity out, not to mention saying he’s only interested in being in a relationship with her for appearances sake, is nothing short of insulting and unprofessional. Standing up, Felicity grabs her laptop and grits out, “I have a meeting to go to, but I would very much appreciate it if this conversation would be over.”

Walking past Ray, Felicity leaves her office and makes a point to swing the door wide open. As she stomps down the hall, Felicity’s reminded of her conversation with Ray a few months ago and how he hoped Felicity would join Palmer Tech after she graduated college. Smirking to herself, Felicity’s glad she trusted her gut and didn’t take the job at Palmer Tech. With a little extra bounce in her step, she realizes this is the first time in a week she’s felt anything but resignation, and the knowledge causes her to fist pump in the air (but only after she surveys the hallway to ensure no one can see her). 

Ray Palmer can take his pompous self and shove it. 

The rest of the day passes by with no fanfare, and when Felicity comes back home she’s surprised to see Laurel sitting in the living room and watching TV. More often than not, there’s usually a glass of wine wrapped around Laurel’s thin fingers but tonight she’s replaced that with a bowl of popcorn. Relieved things may be starting to look up for Laurel, Felicity throws her items on the ground and unceremoniously takes off her heels, rubbing her feet once she does so.

“Hey Felicity.”

“Hey! Laurel, you won’t believe what happened today.” Her interest piqued, Laurel turns around and faces Felicity, a gentle smile forming on her lips. “The CEO of Palmer Tech asked me out while I was at work today.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Walking over to their couch, Felicity plops down and places her feet on the coffee table, something Laurel doesn’t like but does so anyway. “I’m beginning to regret working at QC if it means I have to keep running into Ray Palmer.” To be fair there are a lot of other reasons she regrets working at QC, but Laurel doesn’t need to know that. 

“What did he even say?”

“Oh the usual, said he had the hots for McKenna but I was his second best option. And he was being encouraged by who knows what to date someone of his ‘intellect and calibur.’”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Laurel hands the bowl of popcorn to Felicity. “Well, at least he feels you’re as smart as him.”

“Correction: I’m way smarter than him.”

“Definitely. I’m still shocked, how did he think it was appropriate to ask you out at work?”

Shrugging, Felicity grabs a mouthful of popcorn and shoves it in her mouth, not at all embarrassed by her behavior. Once she’s finished eating she says, “He’s a rich man so until anyone tells him it’s not okay he won’t get the memo. Although I’m pretty sure even if he wasn’t rich he would still think it’s okay.”

Felicity’s mood turns sour when she’s reminded of the Oliver Incident, and although she knows she was in the wrong about Roy, it was still uncalled for Oliver to ask Felicity out. It seems men have a hard time understanding boundaries. 

 “I hate men.”

“Agreed."

Snorting, Felicity glances over to Laurel and sees her best friend smiling, where her eyes crinkle and her teeth are showing. This is the first time she’s smiled like this since she and Tommy have broken up, and it warms Felicity’s heart to see Laurel coming out of her personal hell on her own. Felicity’s glad she didn’t impose on Laurel during this tough time, and Felicity hopes these past couple of months have given Laurel the clarity she needs. 

Still, there’s one itch that needs to be scratched and Felicity won’t know the answer until she asks. She’s hesitant to ask because it’s nothing short of nosy and it’s not her business, and she’s afraid Laurel might shut down at her intrusive question. But Felicity’s been an absent friend and didn’t notice Laurel going off in the deep end until much later. If asking this question will provide some clarity then she’s willing to risk the tentative normalcy they have going. 

“Laurel?”

“Yeah?” Laurel’s eyes are glued to the screen but Felicity continues on. 

Saliva pools inside her mouth and she can feel her palms are slick with nervousness. “I was just wondering—you don’t have to tell me if you feel uncomfortable or anything—if you could tell me why you and Tommy broke up?” 

Silence.

A million different curse words go through her mind, some made up and others she’s positive she picked up while going through a recent Martin Scorsese movie marathon. Warily, Felicity glances over to Laurel and noticies she’s keeping a trained eye on the TV while she’s completely motionless. I’m such an idiot. 

She had to ruin Laurel’s good mood for her own benefit, didn’t she? Yet, in the back of her mind Felicity knows this is the first chance she’s had in a long time to be frank with Laurel. They haven’t hung out much in the past few months, and Felicity suspects Laurel wouldn’t offer this information unless she asks. It pains her to ask Laurel something so personal for her own benefit, but she has to know if Oliver lied or if Felicity really has been clueless to all that’s happening around her. She can’t call herself Laurel’s best friend when she doesn’t notice when her best friend is hurting until it’s too late, and she shouldn’t have to find out what kind of relationship troubles Laurel’s going through by a third party. 

The longer it takes for Laurel to respond the worse Felicity begins to feel, and with it comes unnecessary word vomit. “I feel like it happened and . . . I’m—It felt like it was going well until it wasn’t.” Cringing at herself, Felicity realizes—albeit much too late—this topic is rude of her to discuss. “You know what, forget I asked, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s fine.” 

Taking a deep breath, Laurel takes the bowl of popcorn from Felicity and shrugs. “He felt I had a lot of expectations and maybe I did but . . . There were other things he wasn’t happy with as well.”

“Oh, okay.”

Seemingly unaffected by Felicity’s question, Laurel continues to watch her show and pays Felicity no mind. But all Felicity can think about is Oliver’s letter and how he said Tommy felt Laurel had a lot of expectations. Coupled with Laurel’s confirmation, Felicity realizes this is another thing she was wrong about, and it takes every bit of energy to not scream into a pillow. 

She really is getting her ass handed to her, isn’t she? 

Felicity and weekend plans are as rare as the ability to travel through time, but tonight she actually doesn’t have any work to do. Under normal circumstances, Felicity would make plans with Laurel or at least pretend she has other friends to make plans with. However, Laurel told her she was eating dinner with Quentin then spending the night at her mom’s, so Felicity has the apartment all to herself. And that means ordering a pizza, ordering some cupcakes from Grubhub, and drinking beer as she flits between Netflix, Hulu, and Disney+.

All in all, not a bad Saturday night.

There comes a point during the night when she’s overwhelmed by the sheer amount of movies and TV shows she needs to catch up, so Felicity switches over to watching whatever’s on cable in hopes it’ll decide for her. As she goes from one channel to the next, she stops at a local channel for a second before deciding to go onto the next. But a moment later, Felicity realizes Oliver Queen—the Oliver who said he liked her, the one she yelled at, the one she misjudged—is on her TV screen.

Her breath catching in her throat, Felicity’s finger hovers over the remote to switch the channel but something tells her to stop. Felicity watches with rapt attention the TMZ footage unfold in front of her, her palms slick with apprehension. The TMZ reporters discuss Oliver and the restaurant he was walking out of, which then cuts to footage of Oliver leaving the restaurant. The moment he leaves he’s greeted with flashes of light, and Felicity swears his eyes harden in anger and annoyance at the sight in front of him.

It looks like he left an important business meeting—he’s wearing a suit and is carrying a briefcase. The show cuts back to the “reporters” making fun of Oliver and lamenting how they’d like to look like him while wearing a suit, then it shows additional footage of the night. Glued to the screen, Felicity watches as Oliver—who looks like he’s stepped off a runway—takes a piece of paper from his briefcase and uses it to cover his face. The paparazzi immediately boo as they’re unable to get a decent picture of him. Oliver steadily walks to his car while the paper covering his face doesn't move an inch, and just like that, he manages to sit inside his car as gracefully as a hooded figure in the night.

She could easily change the channel and go along her very merry way, but it dawns on her that Oliver saw a photo opportunity and chose not to take it. This is unlike the Oliver she’s used to seeing, and this paparazzi clip reminds her of a similar time when she was watching TMZ footage of Oliver late at night. Felicity distinctly remembers Oliver making a haughty comment and being thoroughly disgusted by his arrogance.

But things are different now, and instead of being disgusted by Oliver’s behavior, she’s disgusted by her own. 

Bored and unable to sleep due to her lingering thoughts on Oliver, Felicity scrolls through her entire Instagram feed then begins to watch her friend’s Stories, skipping those she finds annoying. Tapping through all the stories (including one where a MIT acquaintance announced they were going to focus on becoming an Influencer), Felicity’s pretty sick of everyone’s vapid lives until she happens upon Sara’s story. The first couple of photos are tame, though her partying photos might be considered wild to some. But it’s the last photo which gives her pause — it looks like Sara’s kissing a girl with long dark hair. There’s an emoji covering the girl’s face, but she’s hit with an overwhelming sense of dread and deja vu all over again.

She’s mildly surprised that Sara's with a girl, let alone kissing her, but the hair looks so familiar . . . Glancing at the top of the screen, Felicity notices the photo was reposted from a handle called “harperarsenal73” which sounds suspiciously like Roy Harper. 

With her gut clenching painfully, Felicity realizes this is the same group of friends Felicity saw a few weeks back near McKenna’s apartment. A lump forming in her throat, Felicity goes to “harperarsenal73” page but finds it set to private (though she can easily hack into it). But she’s able to see from the tiny icon this account belongs to Roy Harper, and the knowledge that Roy, Sara and this mystery girl are still hanging out sends her into a tailspin. 

A million different scenarios bombard her mind: is Roy hoping to take advantage of Sara or are they friends? Perhaps Roy, Sara and Mystery Girl are in a relationship together, and while Felicity wouldn’t judge, this doesn’t seem to be the case. Either way, Felicity feels it’s her moral obligation to warn Sara about Roy, considering there’s a very real possibility he might try to steal money from her. Yet, she doesn’t want to appear jealous or trying to sabotage Sara’s friendships, considering Sara hates it when Laurel lectures her and Felicity feels it might not be in her place to say anything. 

Sighing loudly, Felicity collapses on her bed and rubs her eyes in exhaustion. Normally she has no issue deciding between right and wrong, but nowadays her moral compass is spinning all over the place. She’s been so wrong about everything recently that she’s questioning every aspect of her life. Chewing on her lip, Felicity places her phone on the bedside table and tries not to let her mind wander into scenarios that have no chance of happening. For all she knows this could be a coincidence, and she needs to stop thinking everything will turn to shit because of an inkling she has.

An inkling she hopes, unironically, is wrong. 

Chapter Text

Dragging her suitcase and carryon to the living room with heels was probably a bad idea, but when it comes to traveling Felicity doesn’t think straight as much as she normally does. It also doesn’t help that this is the first time she’s travelling in awhile and surprisingly she’s a little out of practice. It’s been almost three months since her trip to Central City, and there’s been a slight slowdown in her workload, which has given Felicity a moment to breathe after several months of working nonstop. Laurel, too, doesn’t seem to have much work as she normally does, though Felicity’s noticed she’s spending a lot of time visiting her parents. It’s a nice change of pace from her drinking in the apartment and being in a quiet mood. 

Despite not having much work to do, Felicity’s been spending her time planning for her upcoming projects. Now that it’s been greenlit it’s time to get back to her regularly scheduled 12 hour workdays. She’s not looking forward to long days and dealing with boring meetings, but she hopes all her planning helps alleviate her workload. Currently, she’s preparing to head off to QC’s branch in Hong Kong to start the second phase of her project, and as a result spending two weeks in a foreign country means she needs to pack a lot of items. Well, she could do away with her five pairs of heels and her personal laptop, as well as a book on quantum physics that’s been sitting on her nightstand for a year now, but she’s already packed it and her Uber will be here in any minute.

Running through a mental checklist, Felicity realizes she forgot to pack her adapter and rushes to her bedroom before she forgets it again. Grabbing the adapter from her bed, Felicity stops by Laurel’s room and gives a gentle knock in hopes of saying goodbye before she leaves, but the light is off and she doesn’t hear anything. Frowning, Felicity checks the time on her phone and sees that it’s half past eight, which is when Laurel’s usually heading out. She doesn’t hear Laurel in the bathroom and decides to knock a little louder this time. 

“Laurel?” Pressing her ear against the door, she’s met with silence on the other end and begins to worry. “Are you awake?”

Something drops on the floor and Felicity can hear Laurel’s bed creak. Felicity suddenly hears a loud “Fuck!” and before she knows it Laurel’s opening her bedroom door.

The moment she does so Felicity’s hit with a whiff of stale alcohol and isn’t prepared for the sight in front of her. Laurel looks like an absolute fright—she’s still wearing her clothes from yesterday, she’s got bags under her eyes and her skin is sickly pale. It’s clear she’s hungover which surprises Felicity, considering Laurel told her last night she was only visiting her dad for dinner. But with a knot forming in the pit of her stomach, Felicity realizes Laurel’s been lying and spending her time getting drunk under the guise of visiting her parents. 

Felicity’s throat closes up in panic and she doesn’t know what to do. She’s leaving for two weeks and her Uber will be here in any minute. She curses at herself for not having the foresight to see past Laurel’s lies, and hates how she didn’t see Laurel spiraling this out of control. For the past three months Felicity felt Laurel was healing from her breakup with Tommy and finally getting a handle on her life, but she realizes a little too late that it was all wishful thinking. As her mind goes through all their previous interactions in the past few months, Felicity comes to the conclusion she really is a bad friend and didn’t see the obvious signs pointing to Laurel’s reckless behavior. For someone who would visit her parents once every two or three weeks, suddenly visiting them every other day should've raised a suspicion. 

Guilt courses through her but at the moment there’s nothing she can do. Checking her phone once more, Felicity sees that her Uber is almost approaching her building and it pains her to leave Laurel like this. Composing herself, she inhales deeply in an effort not to sound like she’s on the verge of crying. “I’m heading for work but I’ll go straight to the airport afterwards. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, okay?”

Nodding, Laurel pushes past Felicity and heads towards the bathroom, her steps loose and uncoordinated. “Yeah, have fun—shit!” She bumps into the wall and straightens herself out in an effort to pretend she’s not hungover. Waving a hand at Felicity, Laurel mutters “Have a good flight” and slams the bathroom door shut.

Closing her eyes, Felicity takes another deep breath and tries not to let this get to her, though it’s easier said than done. Her phone notifies herself that her Uber has arrived, and taking one last look at the bathroom door, Felicity promises when she comes back she’ll do everything in her power to help Laurel get through this. 

Her flight finally lands after 20 brutal hours, but luckily she had business class tickets which helps alleviate any discomfort she typically feels after a long flight. The Hong Kong airport is expansive and busy as always, and after grabbing her luggage from baggage claim, she heads towards the exit in search of an old friend. It’s easier said than done when hundreds of people obscur her line of sight, but over to the side she sees someone waving enthusiastically and grins.

“Felicity! So glad to have you back!”

Smiling, Felicity walks up to her coworker and friend, Yao Fei, who she met a couple of years ago on her last visit. As the senior manager in the Servers and Network department at QC’s Hong Kong branch, Yao Fei occasionally worked with Felicity and her team but they had never met in person. Two years ago when Felicity came to Hong Kong for another consultative project, they immediately hit it off and have kept in touch since then. Yao Fei treats Felicity like his daughter and has always been kind and encouraging to her. Over the past couple of years she’s grown to trust his opinions and his wonderful taste in food, and she’s looking forward to working with Yao Fei once more. 

“I missed you, Yao Fei!” Enveloping him in a hug Felicity adds, “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Two years to be exact.” Letting go of Felicity, he immediately grabs her luggage and walks towards the exit in a brisk pace while Felicity struggles to keep up with him. “I hope you had a good flight here and remembered to wear your compression socks.”

There’s no way she wasn’t reminded of her compression socks—by the end of her flight her calves were itching and she practically ripped them off the moment she landed. “Definitely, though I’m positive at some point it stopped all of my blood circulation.” 

Dodging all the people crammed in the airport, Felicity catches up to Yao Fei just as he steps outside to the warm, humid air. Blinking furiously, Felicity adjusts to the sunny afternoon and the change in scenery. Taking a deep breath, Felicity turns to Yao Fei with a knowing smirk forming on her lips. “You don’t suppose the best noodle shop you took me to is still open today, is it?” 

“Oh Felicity, I thought you would never ask.”

Laughing, she follows Yao Fei to where the cabs are lined up and eagerly awaits a long afternoon stuffing herself with carbs and Yao Fei’s gentle company. She really is lucky to be able to travel for work and make friends wherever she goes. The next couple of weeks might just be exactly what she needs. 

These next couple of weeks are exactly what she doesn’t need.

Oh, Felicity knew what she was getting into when it came to developing DR procedures for the Hong Kong office. She spent the better part of a year researching and working with various teams to find the pain points, and promptly concluded this was going to be a difficult project. What she didn’t plan for was meeting Oliver Queen thousands of miles away from her home in Hong Kong of all places. 

The Hong Kong office is pretty big and not many people are obsessed with QC’s heir as much as Americans are, but Felicity wishes she was given a heads up in the form of office gossip. Or maybe a swarm of fangirls blocking the lobby entrance. Hell, she’ll even take a red carpet that’s rolled out only for Oliver to step on when he enters the building. Instead he’s made his presence virtually unknown, which is why Felicity bumps into him with no warning and nearly falls over at the sight of him. 

Panic begins to take over her and her first instinct is to pretend she didn’t run into Oliver, but that’s impossible to do so when he’s standing less than a foot away from her. Every hurtful moment that occurred during their fight, as well as the contents of Oliver’s letter, comes up to the surface and Felicity’s throat closes up in response. The words I hope in time you can forgive me flickers across her mind, and she has a sudden urge to give him a big hug and apologize profusely. 

Luckily she stops herself from making this more uncomfortable than it needs to be.

Despite the myriad of emotions ricocheting in her mind, she’s unable to stop herself from staring at him. Getting a chance to look at Oliver up close and personal is a rare treat and this is no exception. Oliver’s still as handsome as ever, his piercing blue eyes ready to swallow her whole and the suit he’s wearing does him all kinds of favors. But there’s something about him that makes her pause and she can’t quite place what it is. His stance is self-assured but doesn’t scream arrogant; he seems comfortable in his skin and knows he doesn’t need to project an air of superiority to command attention. It takes Felicity another moment to realize Oliver is acting . . . humble. That he’s humbled himself. 

A lot can happen in three months, it seems.

Her mind is racing a mile a minute and she can’t get her thoughts in order. She doesn’t know what to make of this different version of Oliver, and she’s not sure if she wants to. Seeing him for the first time in months, let alone seeing this Oliver, is giving her whiplash. 

“Oh. Hi,” Felicity manages squeaks out. 

“Hey.” 

“What are you—”

“I was just—”

Embarrassment flares at the pit of her stomach and she laughs nervously, unsure of what to do. This situation reminds her of when they exchanged a few words late at night while they were at Tommy’s house in the Hamptons. The awkwardness hasn’t changed between them, but there are several more layers to their interactions now, and everything is complicated. 

“Um, you go first.”

Felicity’s surprised she’s able to string a coherent sentence together and waits for Oliver to make the next move. Instead he shakes his head, letting her go first. Unsure of how to deal with an Oliver who doesn’t take every opportunity to be the center of attention, Felicity clears her throat and attempts to not make a fool out of herself. “I’m only here for a couple of weeks. I’m here to help the IT team here develop their DR plan.”

He nods and with each passing second Felicity finds that she’s still unable to breathe. She really is tired of Oliver unintentionally disarming her when she least expects it. “Of course. How’s it going so far?”

“Well, whenever the server room gets hot they use a bunch of fans to cool it down, so not very good.” She’s tempted to tell him a dozen other safety protocols that failed during her initial inspection, but she stops short of word vomiting when Oliver smiles gently, and fuck, now she can’t think. 

“We can’t have that now, can we?”

“Absolutely not.” 

She huffs a laugh because he’s right, they really can’t afford to have the server room blow up in flames. Then she starts to think of the absurdity of the situation and how they’re having a normal conversation after their own fragile relationship blew up. Fate has a funny way of reminding her of her shortcomings. 

“What are you doing here? Aside from working? I mean, obviously.” Cringing on the inside, Felicity doesn’t even bother fixing her faux pas, because Oliver’s been on the receiving end of some of her worst moments and this pales in comparison.

“Oh, just working on company operations.”

He fidgets under her gaze and an excruciating silence soon envelopes them. If Felicity focused a little more she could probably hear the hum of electricity from the lighting above her, and distant sounds of cars from the street below. And maybe if she calmed down a bit, she could gather the courage to deal with this situation a little more maturely, but every inch of her is frozen and she can’t function properly.

“Felicity, are you ready?”

It’s almost laughable how relieved Felicity is to hear Yao Fei’s voice from behind her—almost. She jumps at the opportunity to straighten herself out and step away from Oliver’s presence, and pretends not to notice Oliver’s piercing stare. As Yao Fei comes closer his steps slow down, and he tries not to let his excitement get to him once he realizes Oliver Queen is standing right in front of him.

 “Mr. Queen, pleasure to meet you!”

“Please, call me Oliver.” He sticks out his hand. “And the pleasure is all mine, Mr. . .”

“Gulong. My name is Yao Fei Gulong.” Yao Fei beams while they shake hands, and he gives a slight bow towards Oliver as a sign of respect.

It seems the gesture was a little too much since Felicity can see Oliver flush slightly. “Nice to officially meet you Yao Fei. What department do you work for?”

“The IT department,” he proclaims proudly. “I’m working with Felicity to develop our disaster recovery procedures.”

“In that case you’re in good hands.” Her eyes snapping up to his, Felicity watches him with rapt attention. Her mouth suddenly goes dry and she attempts to make sense of what Oliver just said. “Felicity is our top consultant and I have full faith she’ll execute DR procedures to the best of her ability.” 

Did I die and end up in an alternative universe? She can’t believe it—Oliver is complimenting her in front of Yao Fei and she doesn’t detect a hint of malice in his words. He’s being nice to her and deep down Felicity knows she doesn’t deserve it. It makes her feel horrible all over again, and God, she doesn’t want to be here anymore. 

“I agree, I’ve worked with Felicity before.” Yao Fei smiles at Felicity and she returns the favor, though hers is an empty copy of his. “She’s great.”

Oliver suddenly clasps his hands together and says, “Actually, I don’t know what plans you had for today, but there’s a charity mixer happening after work and I would love it for you two to join. We’re raising money for the MLS foundation and all food and drinks are free.”

Felicity’s eyes widen in shock—did Oliver just invite, unprompted by the way, her and Yao Fei to an event? No amount of practicing in front of the mirror could’ve prepared Felicity for this. She’s genuinely shocked at how nice, welcoming and sincere Oliver’s being right now. If she was experiencing whiplash a mere 30 seconds ago, it doesn’t compare to what she’s feeling at this moment. 

Oliver continues even though both she and Yao Fei are silent, stupefied by his invitation. “My sister is hosting it but I would be delighted if you could come.”

Still unable to process Oliver’s bombshell invitation, Yao Fei exclaims, “Mr. Queen, that is very kind of you! It would be my honor to come.”

“I hope you can make it, Felicity.” Oliver gazes at her and it takes her a second to realize he’s waiting for her answer. 

“Yeah! Yeah, totally.” Glancing down at the floor, Felicity tries not to show Oliver how confused she is, but she has a feeling she’s failing miserably. 

“Perfect.” His mood considerably brighter, Oliver smiles at them both. “I’ll see you both tonight then. I’ll have my assistant email you the address. It was nice meeting you, Yao Fei.” He gives a curt nod and Yao Fei follows suit, but Oliver doesn’t wait for Felicity to say anything. Thankful she doesn’t have a squeak out an awkward goodbye, Felicity waits till Oliver’s figure turns the corner and she finally sighs. 

This was too much. She needs to go back to her hotel and nap, freak out or do a million other things than try to process what just happened. There’s no way she has the mental capacity to catalogue her interaction with Oliver, but one thing is for certain: she never really knew Oliver and today proved it. 

“Wow, Mr. Queen is a very nice gentleman.” Yao Fei tilts his head to the side as if he’s trying to reconcile the man he just met with the rumors he’s heard about Oliver. 

“Yeah. . .” A very nice gentleman doesn’t even cover it. Definitely complicated, though. 

“Also what is a charity mixer?”

The charity mixer is in a fancy hotel and Felicity naturally feels out of her depths. She was already feeling uncomfortable at the thought of going, especially since it’s Thea Queen’s event, but she can’t back out of it. Yao Fei, on the other hand, doesn’t bat an eyelash to the splendor and confidently walks up to the building like he’s done a thousand times before. Following his lead, Felicity and Yao Fei enter the lobby and follow the sign pointing to the bar where the event is taking place. As they slowly approach the bar area, Felicity’s hit with a sense of impending doom and wants to bolt right out of there.

Tugging on his sleeve, Felicity leans into Yao Fei and whispers, “Can we—”

“I’m going to grab the food.” Oblivious to her inner turmoil, he smiles and asks, “Would you like some?” 

Realizing she’s the only one who’s nervous about this event and she can’t follow Yao Fei around the rest of the night like a lost puppy, Felicity begrudgingly agrees. “Sure, why not.”

Yao Fei nods and disappears into the crowd in search of food, but Felicity has her eye on the alcohol since it’s the only thing she’ll be able to enjoy tonight. There are a lot of people here and for all she knows Hong Kong’s social elite might be standing right next to her, which causes Felicity to feel nervous all over again. She already feels out of place in her regular, boring life and this situation isn’t making it any better. 

To make matters worse, Oliver personally invited her here and . . . she doesn’t know what to make of it. It’s obvious he was trying to be nice by inviting her to this event, but Felicity’s unsure of what to do from here. Does she stay during the entire event? Should she even bother networking? What if this is all a mistake and she’ll have to walk out of here—   

“Felicity.”

Her body tenses up the moment she hears Oliver’s deep, husky voice and she’s reluctant to turn around. Eventually Felicity gathers the courage to face him, and it annoys her all over again that her physical reactions to him haven’t changed since she’s, well, known him. Her heart begins to beat erratically and she can feel a sweat breaking on her forehead (her underarms are a whole other matter). Clearing her throat, Felicity tries not to salivate at the sight of Oliver but it’s easier said than done. He’s just perfectly handsome in his casual, ruffled way while she’s sweating buckets.

“I’m glad you could make it.” 

It strikes her that Oliver truly means it. He’s got a drink in his hands and his sleeves are rolled up to show off his beautiful forearms, but he seems so relaxed. He’s entirely focused on her and doesn’t make a point to fidget or look uncomfortable around her. This is a whole other side of Oliver she’s never seen and it completely disarms her. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Except for the fact that I re-evaluated my life’s choices for the entire metro ride. 

“It’s okay, you can say it’s boring. I don’t even know why I bother with these events in the first place.”

Blinking, Felicity realizes the soft but mischievous voice is coming from someone next to Oliver. The woman in question has short brown hair and an air of I’m-Cool-and-I-Know-It, and she steps forward, a smirk forming on her lips. She’s wearing a simple black dress but Felicity knows it’s anything but that. Felicity’s curious to know who this mystery person is and for the life of her can’t place this woman.

Oliver clears his throat and there’s a shy smile forming on his lips. “I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Thea. Thea, Felicity.”

Oh, wow. It’s been a solid five years since Felicity’s seen an updated picture of Thea, and she’s grown from a tabloid magnet teenager to a blossoming young woman. Thea stands tall and proud, confident in her ability to command the room but smart enough to know when to take a backseat. 

Sticking out her hand Thea greets, “Nice to finally meet you Felicity! I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Felicity thanks her past self for getting a fresh manicure before she left for Hong Kong, and goes to shake Thea’s slender hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Thea. And I hope you heard all good things about me?” Here’s to hoping Oliver didn’t tell you how I spent a good ten minutes yelling at him. 

“You hope?” Thea scoffs and jokingly elbows her brother. Oliver pretends to swat her arm, and Felicity can’t resist her lips from tugging upwards in a smile. They seem to have a wonderful relationship and for a moment Felicity wishes she had a sibling. “He wouldn’t stop singing your praises. If I didn’t know any better—”

“Hey Speedy, I’d appreciate it if you try not to embarrass me in front of my friends.”

A blush is beginning to creep onto Oliver’s cheeks and he looks down at his drink, his hands toying with the glass. Felicity, too, feels her face flushing though she’s not sure if it’s a combination of embarrassment at the situation or Oliver singing Felicity’s praises to his sister. She hardly spoke about Oliver to anyone (well, aside from Laurel and McKenna), but to hear Oliver say nice, good things about her to Thea makes her feel guilty all over again. She’s spent the entire time she’s known Oliver trashing him behind his back—granted, his behavior has been atrocious in the past—but she never gave him the benefit of doubt. If Felicity just opened up her eyes a bit more she would’ve seen that he can be a kind, gentle man. 

“Oh but you can call me Speedy in public?” Thea pouts. “Not fair.”

“You’re younger than me so it’s a given.”

Felicity is beginning to feel like an outsider in this conversation (she’s also curious to know why Oliver calls Thea “Speedy”), but this interaction reminds her of Laurel and Sara’s. As an only child she’s often the person the Lance Sisters run to in order to settle any disputes, and Felicity feels inclined to do the same here. “I’m with Oliver on this one—the oldest sibling gets to tease the youngest in public.”

Oliver’s eyes brighten and instantly Felicity’s heart skips a beat. He looks like she told him he’s her personal hero, and for a brief moment Felicity has the urge to laugh. Thankfully, she manages to keep it to herself. 

“This might be the only thing we can agree on, Felicity.”

Something stirs in her—there’s a slight kick of adrenaline hitting her and Felicity realizes this conversation seems to be flowing smoothly. It feels natural to speak to Oliver, teasing him and letting him joke with her in return. She grins. “I’m sure there are plenty of other things we can agree on if you weren’t so. . .”

“Dark and brooding?”

If Felicity had a drink in her hands she surely would’ve spilled it by now—leave it to the younger sibling to truly embarrass the older one in public. She snorts and tries to tamp it down before either one of them notice, though it seems like Thea did. She laughs and Oliver affectionately looks at Thea, shaking his head and he does so. Glancing back up at Felicity, he silently communicates You’re just going to let her make fun of me?

Felicity lifts her hands in the air and pretends to be an innocent bystander. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t say anything.”

“Strange, I thought we agreed it was acceptable to only make fun of the youngest sibling and not the oldest.”

“You make it very easy.”

She smiles and Oliver returns the favor, and for a moment it feels as if there’s no one else in the room besides them. Felicity can feel her heart fluttering in excitement and all thoughts of nervousness she had about coming here wash away the longer she stares at Oliver’s jovial face. His eyes shine under the dim lighting and he’s focused entirely on her. She feels pampered under his attention. Is this what it feels like to—

“Mr. Queen!”

Felicity is grudgingly brought back to reality when a man rudely interrupts them. Oliver looks mildly annoyed but schools his features. “Excuse me for a moment.” 

Clearing her throat and attempting to gather her bearings, she sneaks a peek towards Oliver and sees him in deep conversation with the man. She glances over at Thea who’s got a knowing smile on her lips, but she doesn’t know why the younger Queen is looking at her in that way. Wanting to alleviate any awkwardness she feels on her part, Felicity attempts to start a conversation with Thea when Oliver suddenly cuts in. “I’m sorry but I've got to speak to someone. Felicity, let me know if there’s anything you’d like while you’re here.” Squeezing Thea’s arm, Oliver gives her a knowing look before turning his attention back to Felicity. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond before leaving, but she nods anyway. With Oliver gone, it’s just her and Thea now, and Felicity doesn’t know what to say or do without giving off the wrong impression. Thea may be younger than her but she’s still a Queen—no matter how nice she may be her presence will always intimidate Felicity. 

Just then a waiter comes by with a tray full of drinks, thus giving Felicity a moment to gather herself. Felicity greedily takes a glass of red wine and resists the urge to drink it all in one go. The waiter stands for a moment longer but Thea shakes her head. “Um, no thank you.” 

It dawns on Felicity that Thea is a recovering addict and it makes her feel uncomfortable to be drinking in front of Thea. Even though it seems Thea’s unaffected by the alcohol surrounding her, Felicity chooses not to take a sip and toys with her glass. She’s briefly reminded of Laurel’s own drinking problem, a problem she hasn’t noticed until it got out of hand, and all thoughts of wanting to drink at this event disappear. 

Lost in her thoughts, Felicity doesn’t notice the waiter leave while Thea turns to Felicity. "My brother can be such a dork."

Felicity takes a deep breath and grins—siblings sure know how to embarrass one another. “He seems to be enjoying himself here.”

“Oh yeah, Hong Kong brings out a whole other vibe out of everyone. Star City just has a lot of memories and expectations, you know?” She sighs. “It’s been a struggle for him to get adjusted to home.”

So her suspicions were right, Oliver is a different person depending on where he’s at. She wonders what it felt like to go from one city where every move is documented to another where one can go about undetected. And, she also wonders whether Oliver actually wanted to leave for five years and live in a completely different country as a virtual unknown. Felicity’s reminded of something Oliver said during their fight— At least we’re trying to change that by working at our companies or starting new business ventures! —and it dawns on her that yes, he probably did want a few years of being known as Oliver Queen, heir to QC and not Oliver Queen, America’s biggest playboy. 

She can see why he left. Growing up in Las Vegas was stifling and it was designed to prevent a poor but intelligent girl like her from achieving her goals. It made Felicity angry and full of resentment, most of which was directed towards her mother. When Felicity finally left for college, her mood instantly improved and for the first time in ages she felt at peace. And now after living in Star City for the last few years, she feels like she can do anything with her life.

It must’ve been excruciating for Oliver to be in the public eye for his entire life. One wrong move and his whole life is on the cusp of turning into something no one envisions. A dozen more wrong moves, and no one wants to take him seriously and he’s stuck playing a character. 

“I can understand that.”

Thea nods and her eyes harden while she looks down at the ground, her jaw clenching. The atmosphere shifts to something a little more somber, and Felicity senses this conversation might be a sore spot for Thea. She doesn’t know how to comfort a visibly tense Thea Queen—she can’t offer Thea a drink to soothe her nerves, and she doesn’t want to say something that’ll cause Thea to say not so good things about her to Oliver. 

Just as Felicity’s about to say something cheesy, Thea inhales deeply and shrugs, pretending as if she wasn’t lost in her own world. “I hate to do this, but I have to cut this conversation short since I gotta do a bit of networking and kissing people’s asses. But feel free to roam around and snack on the food.”

She’s a little shocked by the abrupt change but takes it in stride. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice.” For added measure Felicity pats her stomach, and upon seeing Thea’s knowing smirk she, for once, doesn’t feel embarrassed by her behavior.

Thea laughs and places a gentle hand on her arm. “It was nice meeting you, Felicity.”

“You too.” Felicity watches Thea’s lithe frame blend into the crowd, and she’s struck by how funny and kind Thea was to her, which is not at all what she expected. The Queen family is full of surprises. 

Feeling alone all over again, Felicity tries to find Yao Fei but he’s nowhere to be seen, though Felicity spots Oliver in a deep conversation with someone. She notices Oliver’s body language is solely focused on the person in front of him—he’s staring intently at them and he nods every now and then to convey his interest. Even though he towers over most people, he makes a point to appear welcoming and doesn't lean into other’s personal spaces. This is a far cry from the man she met in the club several months ago. Back then he had the attention span of a dog and could barely focus on what was happening in front of him. 

In fact, she doesn’t know how to reconcile the man she’s come to know to the man he appears right now. He’s nice and kind, listens to what everyone has to say and has been virtually undetected in QC’s hallways. Either way, Oliver’s improved behavior will take some getting used to but it’s . . . nice. Different. 

Just then her phone rings, and upon looking down at her screen she sees Laurel’s calling her. Weird , why is Laurel calling me at 6 am? “Laurel! What’s going on? It’s pretty early in the morning, isn’t it?”

Stepping away from the crowd and heading into the empty hallway, Felicity walks towards the window for a bit of privacy and places her wine glass on the floor. It’s silent on the other end but eventually Laurel sighs. “Felicity, I don’t know how else to tell you this but . . .”

A lump forming in her throat due to her nervousness, Felicity takes a deep breath and tries to steel herself for what’s coming next. She truly hopes Laurel wasn’t caught drinking and driving, or some other horrible situation she hasn’t thought of yet. “What is it, Laurel?”

“Sara dropped out of college and ran off with a girl, Nyssa al-Ghul, and some guy named Roy. Dad’s freaking out because she’s the daughter of an alleged drug kingpin and as a cop . . . You know there’s nothing he can do about it. We don’t know where Sara is and I just—we’re so exhausted.”

Oh. Oh no.

Of all the situations Felicity imagined this was nowhere near being on her list. And yet, the fact that Felicity didn’t have the foresight to see this causes her to feel so fucking guilty. She knew. She knew something was off, and against her better judgment chose not to investigate into the group of friends Sara was hanging out with. Knowing Roy’s horrible self wormed his way into Sara’s life should’ve been more than enough reason to nip their friendship in the bud. Instead, Felicity was so busy second guessing her intuition and afraid of being wrong that she chose not to see this trainwreck happening. 

This is her fault. If Felicity hadn’t been afraid of the consequences, Sara wouldn’t have met Nyssa through Roy. More importantly, she wouldn’t have run away with the daughter of the drug kingpin, Ra's al Ghul, who’s had his fair share of run ins with the authorities. If Felicity had been upfront with Laurel about Roy, perhaps Laurel could’ve warned Sara or forced her to stay away from Roy and Nyssa. If Felicity hadn’t been so focused on protecting herself, then none of this would’ve happened.

Swallowing thickly, Felicity pinches the bridge of her nose and struggles to find the right words to say. “Shit I’m—God, is there anything I can do while I’m here?”

It’s silent for a moment. “No, it’s okay. I'll keep you updated if anything changes.”

“Okay.” Her voice wavering Felicity adds, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah. Talk to you soon.”

The line goes dead but Felicity still has the phone pressed to her ear. Her heart hammering wildly, Felicity begins to feel the telltale sign of a panic attack and tries to think of all the breathing exercises she’s learned over the years. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Felicity closes her eyes and attempts to acknowledge her emotions and not let it get the best of her, though that’s easier said than done. Fuck. Her throat suddenly closes up from the flurry of emotions she’s feeling and it threatens to spill over. Opening her eyes, Felicity leans against the wall and attempts to steady herself. “No, no no nononono—”

“Felicity?”

Paying the voice no mind, Felicity closes her eyes once more and continues to lean against the wall. “God—”

“Felicity.” This time the voice is louder and closer to her, and it takes her another second to realize Oliver is standing not too far from her. Now that stops her from freaking out. 

Turning around, Felicity comes face to face with a concerned Oliver, his eyes darting back and forth in worry. The hallway is still empty and he’s kept a respectable distance from her, but every inch of his body is coiled with tension. And the knowledge he’s worried about her causes Felicity to feel relieved of all things.

“What’s wrong?”

Even though she and Oliver have been at odds, he’s the only person in the world who can understand her tumultuous feelings right now. It dawns on her that Roy’s secret and Sara’s extracurricular activities have been weighing on her for so long, and she’s desperate to tell someone everything that’s bothering her. He may not be her best friend, let alone any friend, but he’s here and that matters. 

Shaking her head, Felicity tries to tell him what’s wrong but to her horror she can feel her eyes welling up in unshed tears. “Oliver, I messed up. I—I knew everything and I didn’t—”

“Felicity.” Stepping forward once again, Oliver holds a steady eye on her in an attempt to keep her grounded. He doesn’t even blink—he continues to stare until Felicity can focus on something other than her erratic breathing. He has beautiful eyes. “Start from the beginning.” 

Exhaling harshly, Felicity toys with her phone in her hands and tries to get her thoughts in order, but it’s hard when the Oliver Queen is entirely focused on her and Sara’s out running around with some bad people. “Sara, Laurel’s sister, ran off with Roy and—” 

At the mention of Roy, Oliver’s nostrils flare and she’s positive she felt the ground shake from his anger. It feels weird to discuss Roy, and in effect the email he sent, because it shows Oliver she read his email and chose not to apologize, let alone reach out. In her defense today is the first time she’s seen Oliver since that fateful day. But even with all the heightened emotions surrounding them, Felicity does feel marginally better by saying Roy’s name and knowing she can speak freely about that horrible man. 

Glancing up at Oliver, she finds staring at Oliver’s stupidly handsome face is giving her something to focus on, and a moment later she’s slowly being able to think clearly. “Sara and Roy became friends with Nyssa al-Ghul, the daughter of Ra’s al Ghul. You know, the most notorious drug lord in the world.” 

Oh God, this is bad. So bad. The full weight of Laurel’s bombshell is beginning to hit her in a different way, and nightmare scenarios start bouncing around in her mind. What if Sara gets caught trafficking drugs? What if she makes a choice that’ll hurt her in more ways than one? What if— 

“Felicity.” Oliver places a warm and gentle hand on her shoulder, and the weight of his palm helps to bring her back to reality. He’s even closer to her now, his eyes soft, and for some inexplicable reason she feels safe with him. “Breathe.”

Releasing a shaky breath, Felicity swallows thickly as she attempts to gather her thoughts. “Laurel called to tell me Sara dropped out of college and ran off with Nyssa, and Roy’s with them.” At the mention of Sara running off with Nyssa and Roy, Oliver drops his hand from her shoulder and his jaw clenches. She laments the loss of Oliver’s steady hand on her shoulder, but her guilt overpowers any other emotion she’s feeling. Upset at her own actions, Felicity glances down at the floor in shame. “It’s my fault. I knew Roy and Sara were hanging out, and I knew Sara was dating a girl and that something was off, but I was so afraid of . . . It’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not.”

Her eyes snapping up to Oliver’s, she’s surprised to see his narrow in determination and something else she can’t quite place. He may be trying to make her feel better, but no matter what Oliver says, it really is her fault. She had all this information and chose not to do anything about it, hoping her intuition was wrong and nothing would happen. She should’ve trusted herself, but instead she was caught up in protecting her pride. 

As the silence drags on and Oliver’s face hardens with each passing second, Felicity realizes he understands her helplessness more than anyone. He also knew about Roy’s wicked ways but decided to go abroad assuming Roy wouldn’t do anything brash, yet nothing could have prepared Oliver for his treatment towards Thea. She wonders how he felt when he found out about Roy’s betrayal and Thea’s subsequent accident. But if Oliver’s experiences are anything to go by, then it will all work out. Sara will come back and the Lance family will heal from this. And Felicity will never, ever doubt herself again.

With a renewed sense of energy, Felicity grabs onto her phone a little tighter and sighs. “I—I have to go back to the hotel and just . . .” Get a drink or ten. Surprised by the abrupt change in Felicity’s mood, Oliver mutters an “Of course” and steps aside to let Felicity pass. But she stays put.

“I’ll see you later, Oliver. And thank you for asking me out to this event.” Fuck. Of all the horrible things she could’ve said, this is not what she wanted. That was literally the worst thing she could’ve blurted out—Felicity feels her face flushing from embarrassment and she wishes for once she didn’t put her foot in her mouth.  “I—I mean for having me. For inviting me here.”

He gives a gentlemanly nod, but she swears there’s a slight hint of a smirk forming on his lips. Still, his eyes have yet to soften and she’s worried he’ll burst a blood vessel from brooding too much. “If you need anything, I would be more than happy to. . .” 

“You’ve done plenty. Really.” He’s the one who warned her about Roy, and chose not to tell the whole world about her immature behavior towards him. He let her be after their fight and he’s been nothing but a gracious host since the moment they met today. And he’s here comforting her when he could be doing anything else besides this. This is more than she could have ever imagined. 

But now it’s time for her to deal with her mistakes. 

“Bye, Oliver.” Turning around Felicity heads towards the lobby, her steps slow and measured. 

She’s going to make this right. She has to. 

Chapter Text

An hour before Felicity’s plane is about to land, she freshens herself up in the bathroom, puts all her belongings away and waits. As her plane pulls up at the gate, she starts to chew on the inside of her cheeks in an effort to keep herself steady, but it’s nearly impossible for Felicity to stay still. Once she disembarks from the plane, Felicity rushes through Global Entry and onto baggage claim, and it isn’t long before she’s seated in an Uber headed towards the Lance house. 

It’s been an agonizing week of worry and insurmountable guilt, and Felicity hopes this nightmare will be over once she gets her hands on her computer. She wasn’t able to focus at all during work, and spent almost every waking minute worried sick over Sara. Every morning Felicity would message Laurel to see if there was an update, but as each day went by and nothing happened, Felicity knew the chances of Sara coming back were getting slimmer by the second. And the Lance family was starting to resign themselves to this fact. 

When Felicity finally reaches the Lance home and as she rings the doorbell, her stomach lurches at the thought of entering this home and seeing everyone’s upset faces. It’s all her fault. She’s got nothing else to say to herself—the only thing she can do is make things right. She will. She has to. 

A moment later the door flies open and she has to prevent herself from audibly gasping—nothing can prepare her for how Laurel looks. There are permanent bags under her eyes and her skin is flushed, probably from lack of sleep and God knows what else. A pang of guilt hits her and Felicity shuffles her feet. “Hey.” 

“Hi. Thanks for coming. It’s chilly, come inside.”

It’s been awhile since Felicity stepped inside the Lance home—now Dinah’s home during her separation with Quentin—and nothing has changed, except the mood is somber and quiet. During college this home was always her refuge, and she knows if it weren’t for Dinah and Quentin welcoming her with open arms into their family, her college experience would’ve been much different. She’s very fond of this home and the memories that come with it, but after seeing how cold and empty it is now, Felicity’s worried this might be the new normal.

Leaving her luggage by the door, Felicity steps into the kitchen area with Laurel in tow and sees Dinah standing by the counter. Quentin, on the other hand, is sitting by the kitchen table, absentmindedly staring off. Dinah looks up and gives her a haggard smile. “Felicity, it’s so good to see you,” Dinah greets as she envelops Felicity in a hug. 

She melts into Dinah’s motherly arms. “I wish it was under better circumstances,” she says onto her shoulder. Releasing her, Dinah gives another sad smile and looks away, unable to contain herself. 

A lump forming in her throat, Felicity turns her attention to Quentin who’s now standing up to greet her also. “Felicity.” Hugging her as well Quentin mumbles, “Thank you for coming.” He pulls back and produces a pathetic smile, which somehow makes everything much worse.

This is just horrible. They’re all suffering because of Felicity’s incompetence, and all of this is her fault. She’s already spent the last week beating herself up for not preventing this from getting out of control, but seeing the Lance family like this hurts her more than anything else. Dinah and Quentin have done so much for her, and she repays them by watching their daughter get involved with the wrong crowd and doing nothing to stop it from happening.

“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. All of you.” To the side Felicity can see Laurel look away, but more so in anger than being overwhelmed with emotions. 

“Sweetheart, you comin’ here is enough.” Quentin places a hand on her back and leads her towards the kitchen island where the breakfast stools are at. “Dinah, we got anything for Felicity to . . .”

Dinah nods. “Of course, dear. Have a seat.” Squeezing her shoulder, Dinah goes to the stove and puts something on a plate while Felicity settles in. She had a meal a couple of hours before her flight landed, but her stomach betrays her and grumbles as if she hasn’t eaten anything in 20 hours. Once Dinah puts the food on a plate, she walks over to Felicity and places it in front of her. “I made some pasta for lunch.

It looks and smells absolutely delicious. “Thanks, Dinah.”

Suddenly ravenous, Felicity digs in and for a few minutes there’s no sound except Laurel’s fingernails tapping against her phone, Dinah’s wedding ring clinking against her coffee mug and Quentin’s occasional sighs. Within seconds the pasta begins to taste like cardboard and Felicity loses her appetite. Her stomach lurches and she discreetly pushes the plate away from her. This is unbearable.

It’s one thing to feel guilty from afar and another when she’s standing in front of a broken family. God, all she wants to do is get away from here and fix things as fast as she can. Clenching the fork in her hand, Felicity vows she’s going to stay up all night and find Sara no matter the personal cost. She’ll even risk getting arrested if it means Sara’s back in Star City where she belongs. 

Lost in her thoughts, Felicity’s doesn’t even notice Quentin’s cell phone ringing and everyone rushing over to him. Turning around, Felicity sees Quentin standing by the windows while Dinah and Laurel anxiously watch him. This must be important.

“Hey Sam. Any news?” Everyone waits with bated breath—she watches Dinah toy with her necklace and Laurel tracks her father’s movement like a hawk. As the call continues, Quentin goes from looking somewhat hopeful to painfully neutral, and Felicity just knows this call is taking all the wrong turns. “Uh huh. And are you sure . . .” 

Someone sighs loudly—she doesn’t know who, but she sees Laurel shake her head and move away from Quentin as Dinah looks down at the floor. As seconds pass, Felicity sees a flush creeping up on Quentin’s neck and cheeks. Felicity knows it’s only moments before Quentin explodes and she’s not sure what that’ll look like. 

Quentin presses his forehead against the wall while his chest rises and falls rapidly. “Well, that’s just—my baby girl is out there with a drug lord’s daughter and you’re telling me there ain’t nothing I or anyone else can do about that?!” Banging his fist against the wall Quentin shouts, “Thanks for wasting my time!” 

Felicity flinches at his outburst. Quentin shuts the phone and slams it against the table, and now she feels like she’s intruding in a personal family moment. Cautiously, Felicity glances over to Laurel who’s got her arms crossed while Dinah stares at Quentin in resignation. Clearing her throat, Dinah steps forward but keeps a respectable distance from Quentin. “Quentin, why don’t you take—”

“I’m not taking another Goddamn walk,” he whispers in quiet rage. He slumps down on the chair nearest to him and buries his face in his hands, and Felicity can’t prevent her eyes welling up with unshed tears. 

“Look, she made her decision.” Laurel gives a nonchalant shrug while Dinah’s expression goes from resignation to outrage. “Let her deal with the consequences.”

“Honey, how could you say that?” Shaking her head Dinah pleads, “She’s your sister.”

Laurel goes to grab her purse and throws her phone in it. Clenching her jaw, she turns to her parents and throws her hands in the air. “She’s an adult and knows what she’s doing. I’m sick of you two trying to coddle her.”

The air is sucked out of the room the moment Laurel says those words, and now it’s Felicity’s turn to watch the spectacle unfold with bated breath. Laurel’s relationship with Sara is nothing short of complicated—Felicity knows Laurel cares about Sara, and she doesn’t doubt that Sara’s actions have hurt Laurel in a way she didn’t think was possible. But even this a low blow. Whatever Sara’s gotten herself in doesn’t negate the fact she needs her family, even now.  

“You’re out of line, Laurel,” Quentin fumes. 

“I don’t care.” 

Glaring at her parents, Laurel turns and stomps out of the house, leaving Quentin and Dinah bewildered by her actions. And even though Felicity knows Laurel’s behavior isn’t normal, she can’t help but wonder if it’s the alcohol doing the talking. 

It wouldn’t be the first time. 

She stayed at Dinah and Quentin’s for a few more minutes before heading back to her empty apartment which, if Laurel’s behavior is any indication, might stay that way until the morning. Her heart pangs at the thought of Laurel possibly getting drunk at a bar or doing a number of other things she doesn’t know about, but Felicity has to focus her energy on one thing at a time. Right now it's all about bringing Sara home.

Felicity doesn’t doubt the Nyssa al-Ghul has resources to cover her tracks considering her dad is wanted in almost every country in the world. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have the server space and the bandwidth to do a proper hack, which would typically include hacking into government databases, phone companies, airlines, and many more sources. So instead she starts small—she already knows Roy’s phone number but needs a simple way to hack into his phone. She sends a text with a phishing link, hoping the “Your account has identified suspicious activity” message will force him to open it.

Sure enough, within a few minutes of sending the text she gets an alert that she has access to Roy’s phone. Stretching her hands, Felicity immediately gets to work—she goes straight to Roy’s Google Maps and tries to see when and where his location data was used. Within a minute, she’s able to see his tracking data and knows he was last in Corto Maltease.

Of course they would go there. Corto Maltease is the place to be if you’re a criminal, and its pristine beaches might be the only thing pristine about it. Much to her surprise, Roy’s back in Star City and upon scrolling through his text messages, it seems he couldn’t afford to miss work . . . especially when he owes people money.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Felicity ponders her next steps. Does she continue to dig through Roy’s personal history, or leave him out of it and find Sara’s whereabouts the long way? She weighs the pros and cons: pros include digging for information in order to find an easier way to know where Sara and Nyssa might be headed to next, and cons include Roy not having any new information. But there’s no way a slimy guy like him wouldn’t know anything, and if Felicity’s going to talk to him she needs leverage. A lot of it.

Jetlag starts to creep in as evening time nears, so she makes herself a cup of coffee in an effort to get through tonight. Settling into her chair, Felicity skims through Roy’s bank account (he ought to create a stronger password to log into his mobile app, but she’s not complaining) and makes work of the information available to her. He’s in a considerable amount of credit card debt, and she’s surprised he managed to get an account in the first place. As she combs through his email and text messages, she starts to see names of people Roy owes money to. 

Taking the newfound information, Felicity turns on her desktop and gets to work. She cross references his last known addresses to casinos, underground clubs, and mobs in the cities he’s been to in an effort to match up the names mentioned in his texts. Once her query starts yielding results it’s already half past one. She heard Laurel come back an hour ago, but Felicity kept her door shut as she couldn’t afford to break her concentration. 

Her mind is going haywire right now but her body is begging her to sleep, so she takes a generous amount of NyQuil in an effort to finally rest. This cycle of staying up past her body’s tolerance threshold and subsequently crashing reminds her of a few too many nights during her college days, but thankfully tomorrow is Sunday and she can sleep in for a little longer.

Much to her chagrin when she wakes it’s almost one in the afternoon. Felicity immediately rolls out of bed and sees her query gives her exactly what she needs. Well, how’s that for hacking while sleep deprived and doped up on NyQuil. She goes to the bathroom to freshen up, and after she finishes makes a sad bowl of cereal. Once again Laurel is missing this morning (well, afternoon), but it looks like she made coffee and left some for Felicity. 

Throwing out the old coffee, Felicity brews a fresh pot while she changes her clothes and gets ready to meet Roy at the restaurant he’s supposed to be working at today. To her benefit, he has a habit of complaining about work to everyone and anyone he texts. She drafts an email as she drinks her cup of coffee, and once she’s satisfied with how the email looks, she goes to her car and heads to Roy’s place of employment. 

Despite not having an adequate amount of sleep and nearly missing half the day, Felicity’s in a chipper mood and is excited at the prospect of getting back at Roy. This is the first time she’s seeing him since that day several months ago where he lied through his teeth, and she lapped it up like a dog starving for a drop of water. Since she’s met him, Felicity learned of his treatment towards Thea and he got Sara mixed in with the wrong people. Jerk. Felicity’s typically not one for revenge but she’s willing to make an exception this time around. 

After parking her car, she steps inside the restaurant and goes by the bar. Her nerves are suddenly getting to her, though it might be a combination of adrenaline, lack of sleep, jetlag and too much caffeine in her system. Glancing around, she sees a young bartender approach her and plastering a fake smile she asks, “Hi, is Roy here?”

“And who’s asking?

She smiles once more. “A friend.”

The bartender opens his mouth to say something but senses it’s not his place to ask for more information. He finally nods and says, “I’ll be right back.” Smart man.

It takes a couple of minutes for Roy to appear, but once he does he grins as if he hasn’t destroyed people’s lives and isn’t the living embodiment of bad decisions. He’s still as handsome as ever but that might be the only good thing about him. 

Oblivious to Felicity’s inner thoughts he greets, “Hey, it’s been awhile. What brings you to this fine establishment?” 

She can tell he doesn’t remember her name and she’s mildly annoyed by it, but at least he recognizes her. Clearing her throat, Felicity leans forward and gives a sickly sweet smile. “I could ask you the same thing. Weren’t you . . . vacationing in Corto Maltease last weekend?”

Roy’s face pales at the mention of Corto Maltease and his eyes flicker back and forth in nervousness. He toys with the dish rag on the counter, and watching him struggle causes an untold amount of excitement for Felicity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It frustrates her that he doesn’t have the balls to admit something as simple as vacationing in Corto Maltease. He really is a slimy bastard and she hates how she didn’t see that from the beginning. “Cut the shit. Tell me where Sara and Nyssa are and I’ll—”

“Or what, Blondie?” he sneers. 

Oh, it’s on buddy. He may think calling her degrading names and pretending not to know anything will convince her to leave him alone, but he doesn’t know what Felicity Meghan Smoak is capable of. And if Roy were smarter, he would do everything in his power from finding out. Smirking and taking out her phone, she places it on the counter and points to it. “Or I’ll just send this email right here and let everyone you owe a debt to know where you live.” 

Her search yielded everything she was looking for—she managed to get a list of almost everyone Roy owes a debt to, and from there it was surprisingly easy to find everyone’s contact information. One press of a button and Roy’s life will be over in more ways than one, though Felicity hopes it doesn’t come to that. Roy might be okay with destroying people’s lives for his own benefit, but Felicity’s not that kind of person.

A few seconds pass before Roy inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring in anger and fear. “You bitch.”

She scoffs—how original of him to call her that. Her finger hovers over the send key and she watches Roy’s eyes widen with horror.  “A bitch with unlimited 4G.” 

“They said they were going to Seychelles next.” He squeezes his hand into a fist and looks down at the ground in defeat. “Nyssa owns a house there.”

Her heart beats thunderously beneath her chest and she tries not to show how relieved she is. This is the first breakthrough she and the Lance family have had in two weeks, and she’s desperate to find more information before it’s too late. Even though she can’t stand the sight of Roy, Felicity’s glad she made the decision to speak to him first. “When did they go?”

“About five days ago.”

Satisfied with his answer, she takes back her phone and slips it in her pocket. Felicity’s desperate to get home and run another search, and she wants nothing more than to tell everyone where Sara might be. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Roy stays silent as he watches Felicity step away from the bar, but his eyes are hard with rage simmering just under the surface. Felicity wonders how this conversation would’ve gone if she didn’t have any leverage, and she’s glad she doesn’t have to find out. He’s a horrible man who deserves nothing in this world. 

“By the way, you disgust me.” She’s genuinely shocked at how Roy can stand there and not let the weight of his actions get to him. But she supposes being in a considerable amount of debt, and constantly worrying about getting caught, causes people to act in ways no one thought possible. “You’ve ruined no less than two families and you have the audacity to act like you haven’t hurt them.”

He refuses to meet her eyes. Coward. Giving him one last dirty look, Felicity walks out of the restaurant with an extra bounce in her step, satisfied she’s gotten one step closer to bringing Sara home. 

And she’s another step closer to making this right. 

The rest of the weekend is spent searching for Nyssa’s private home, but it’s a lot harder to look for than she originally thought. Felicity first searched for multi-million dollar mansions that were built in Seychelles during the last five years, then broadened her search to ten, and still came up with nothing. Sensing a drug lord and his daughter wouldn’t buy any old house without covering their tracks, Felicity attempted to see which houses were bought very suddenly, or switched owners at the last second, or a several other variables she could think of. 

It’s getting harder to find any information on Nyssa’s mysterious house, and she needs more server space in order to do a proper hack. It’s times like these when Felicity wishes she kept in touch with her friends, and she’s seriously considering going to them for help. The longer they go without hearing from Sara, the more frightening the situation becomes, and she’s starting to get desperate.

She told the Lance family everything she learned from Roy, which was a little hard to explain when Quentin’s a cop and Laurel’s a lawyer. Thankfully they took Felicity’s seedy information gathering in stride, and Quentin immediately contacted his friends to see if they could do some digging. At least something good came out of her threatening and blackmailing Roy. 

It’s Monday now which means Felicity can’t spend hours hacking and trying to find Sara. She briefly considered working from home, except she had a lot of meetings today and had to come in. As usual she can’t focus the entire day, and all she thinks about is coming back home to research and contact her shady friends . . . which is saying something. 

When Felicity gets back home Laurel’s making dinner, and looks just as tired and angry as she did the entire weekend. She grunts a “Hello” and goes back to making her food, paying Felicity no mind. Sighing, Felicity sits on the couch and decides to leave Laurel alone for now. 

They haven’t talked about her outburst at the Lance family home, let alone discuss Sara’s disappearance which troubles Felicity. There’s no doubt Laurel’s holding everything inside, and coupled with her very obvious drinking problem, Felicity’s afraid of what’s going to happen next. She knows she can’t fix everyone and everything, but as Laurel’s best friend and the only person who might truly know her, Felicity feels she needs to do something. She feels she owes it to Laurel.

Rubbing her eyes, Felicity’s mind tries to think of next steps—she’ll find Sara before it’s too late then she’ll help Laurel overcome her demons. But first she needs a moment to breathe and eat dinner. 

Just as she’s about to get up and make food, her phone suddenly starts ringing. Great. Once Felicity pulls it out and sees who’s calling, she nearly falls from over from shock—her hands shake and her vision swims. “Laurel.” The phone continues to ring and Laurel, stuck in her own thoughts, doesn’t pay attention. Anxiety grips Felicity in a way that hasn’t before and she feels she’s going to explode. Every inch of her is frozen but she’s simultaneously thrumming with energy. “Laurel!”

“What?” 

“It’s Sara.” 

Laurel’s face pales at the mention of Sara and Felicity can’t hear anything aside from the loud pounding in her ears. But if she doesn’t pick up the phone right now she, and the Lance family, might lose their only chance to converse with Sara. Swallowing thickly, Felicity picks up the phone and tries not to scare Sara with her worrying, all while attempting to keep her voice neutral. “Sara, oh my God, are you okay? Where are you? Everyone is so—”

“Can you pick me up?” On the other end of the line Felicity hears a car drive away but other than that it’s completely silent. “I’m at the private airstrip, off Providence Drive.” Sara's voice sounds distant and empty, and it takes Felicity a couple of seconds to realize not only is Sara back in the US but she’s here in Star City. 

“Oh. Yeah, yeah I’ll just—I’ll leave right now.” Getting up from the couch, Felicity grabs her purse and goes to put her shoes on. Confused by the turn of events Laurel walks over to her and anxiously waits. Felicity mouths “One second” to Laurel and takes her keys. “I’ll text you my ETA once I put it in the GPS. Sit tight, okay?”

“Okay.”

She shuts the phone and immediately goes to search for the airstrip in Google Maps, her mind running a mile in a minute. How did Sara even get back? Is she all right? And to think she spent all last week worried sick and this weekend trying to find Sara when all she had to do was wait. She shakes her head—this is a strange turn of events and Felicity’s having a hard time wrapping her mind around it. Oddly enough, she feels calm but in the back of her mind she knows she’s going to freak out when she finally has the time to. 

Laurel taps on Felicity’s arms, her eyes wide with nervousness. “What’s going on?”

Glancing up, Felicity sees how worried Laurel is right now and hopes the news will ease some of her anxiety. “Sara’s here. She’s at this private airstrip and wants me to pick her up.”

In a flash Laurel’s face goes from worry to practiced apathy. “Okay.”

Felicity’s surprised by Laurel’s reaction and wishes she knew what’s going on in her head. “Do you want to come?”

“She called you for a reason,” she says bitterly. It dawns on Felicity that despite her behavior, Laurel’s been so upset over Sara’s disappearance and is lashing out in the only way she knows how. She understands Laurel’s anger and Sara calling Felicity instead of Laurel clearly hurt her. Felicity’s unsure of how to proceed from here—meddling with the Lance Sister’s dynamics is something Felicity strictly avoids. But these are strange times and she’s at a loss on how to deal with this precarious situation. 

Sighing, Laurel steps back and shrugs. “I’ll . . .  take an Uber and go over to mom’s. You just meet us there.”

Felicity feels the need to say something—anything—that might reassure her but she falls short. She’s not sure if it was the right call for Sara to contact her first, but perhaps Sara wanted to use Felicity as a buffer before meeting her family. It wouldn’t be the first time. Toying with her car keys, Felicity nods and tries to convey she’ll do everything to bring Sara back in one piece. “All right, see you in a bit.” Laurel walks away from Felicity and she watches her for a moment—her shoulders are rigid with tension which is so unlike the Laurel she’s grown up with. “You know . . .” Turning back around Laurel looks at her with a strange expression, as if there’s a part of her that wants Felicity to talk to her Sara and another that’ll murder her if she does. Felicity’s heart aches for Laurel—she can see how resentful she is of Sara’s decision, but her own pride and anger is preventing her from allowing herself to feel anything about this situation, which does more harm than good. 

Sighing, Felicity instead glances down at her phone and mumbles “I’ll text you when I pick her up.” Leaving her apartment, Felicity rushes outside towards her car and hopes by the time she brings Sara back home that everything will be okay. 

Well, as okay as it can be. 

Chapter Text

It should normally take thirty minutes to get to the airstrip but with traffic it takes her almost an hour. The moment Felicity leaves her apartment she’s a bundle of nerves, which isn’t good because she’s already a bundle of nerves to begin with. However, the ungodly amount of traffic gives Felicity time to rehearse what she’ll say when she sees Sara, and it isn’t long before she arrives at her destination. 

She’s never been to a private airstrip before, but the area is empty and there’s one lone hanger in the middle of nowhere. It’s almost sunset and she’s glad she got to Sara before nightfall, though running off with a drug lord’s daughter is probably scarier than standing alone in an empty field. Or maybe not. 

Felicity pulls up close to the hanger and sees a lone figure standing by it. Sara. Putting her car in park, Felicity jumps out and jogs over to Sara, her heart beating painfully and bursting with relief. But as she steps closer, she sees Sara’s head hanging low and her lone handbag hanging limply off her shoulder.

“Sara?” She looks up at Felicity with sad, empty eyes and it’s in that moment Felicity realizes she didn’t run away to piss off her family, or rebel out of some misguided attempt to live life at its fullest. She did it because she wanted to, because Nyssa . . . meant something to her. 

“Hi,” Sara croaks. Clearing her throat, she clutches her bag a little tighter and looks down at the ground. For someone so jovial and unbothered by everything, seeing Sara like this is a jarring experience. She seems tired and in another world, as if she hasn’t disappeared for almost two weeks and dropped out of school. 

Stepping forward, Felicity reaches out to Sara but she stays completely still. Withdrawing her hand Felicity says softly, “I’m so glad you’re safe.” Giving her an empty smile, Sara doesn’t say anything and shuffles her feet. Felicity feels if she says one wrong thing Sara might break and not want to come back. “Ready to go?” 

Sara nods. They begin to walk towards her car, and Felicity’s acutely aware of how Sara’s steps are slow and measured. For once in her life Felicity doesn’t know what to say, though it’s probably better she doesn’t speak until Sara’s ready to do so. 

They go to sit in the car and Felicity takes a moment to breathe before turning on her car. Felicity’s been so focused on righting her wrongs and bringing Sara back that she hasn’t had a moment to even think. She went from landing after a 20 hour flight, to hacking and nearly destroying Roy’s life, to getting Sara’s call all within a span of 72 hours.  Glancing over at Sara, she watches her with trepidation and wishes she could go back in time and prevent any of this—Roy coming into Sara’s life, having her heart broken, the Lance family fracturing—from happening. 

“They’re gonna kill me, aren’t they?”

Sara looks so small right now and it suddenly hits Felicity how young she is. Her heart aches for Sara and she doesn’t know how to make it better. She wants to tell Sara it’s okay to make mistakes, to jump into things without thinking them, and that it doesn’t make her family love her any less. “God no. They've been so worried about you.”

It’s silent for a few seconds. The air is still and it’s completely quiet inside her car, save for Felicity’s labored breathing. “Yeah. Okay.”

Taking one last look at Sara, she turns her car on and drives away, all the while hoping by the time they arrive everything will be alright. 

In the end Sara’s reunion with her family is filled with tears of relief, a distant Laurel and one awkward Felicity. They’re all gathered at the dinner table but it’s filled with stilted conversations, Laurel downing her wine and glaring at anyone who so much takes a peek at her, Quentin looking relieved that his baby girl is back and Dinah cautiously watching everything unfold. A sense of dread is starting to overtake Felicity, and she picks at her food even though she’s starving. The silence stretches even longer when Laurel loudly drops her fork on her plate and glares at Sara, who’s been avoiding all eye contact. Laurel’s jaw clenches and in that moment Felicity knows everything will be going to shit. 

“So, are you going to apologize or are we going to pretend like you didn’t scare the shit out of everyone and disrupt our lives because you were being selfish?”

Everyone’s eyes widen in horror and no one dares to breathe. A flush is creeping up on Laurel’s cheeks and her eyes are hard with anger and frustration. Dinah glances back and forth between her daughters and Quentin, while Sara uncharacteristically looks down at her food in shame. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—"

“You didn’t mean to scare mom and dad? You didn’t mean to drop out of college, a college you begged mom and dad to go to, after they’ve paid thousands of dollars in tuition?” Laurel’s voice rises with each passing second, her breath hitching from hysteria that’s about to be unleashed. “You didn’t mean to—”

“Laurel, that’s enough.” Quentin points a finger at Laurel and keeps a steady eye on her, but it only spurs her on. 

She scoffs. “No it’s not, because Sara does everything for herself and you just let her get away with it!”

“Laurel!” Dinah admonishes. 

This is going from bad to worse. There are unshed tears in Sara’s eyes and this room is a powderkeg, waiting to explode any second now. Felicity spots Quentin’s face turning redder by the second, and Dinah’s watching the scene unfold with quiet fury. Anxiety and desperation grips her, and all she wants to do is bolt right out of there before it spirals out of control.

But Laurel’s on a roll now and nothing’s going to stop her. Leaning forward, she glares so hard at Sara that Felicity’s certain she's burned a hole through her. “You’re fucking selfish and it’s time for you and everyone to know that.”

“Stop it!” Felicity hisses. This is beyond what she could’ve imagined. She’s seen Laurel angry before, but this? It’s mean, hurtful, ugly and so unlike Laurel. And in that moment, Felicity realizes this is the alcohol talking and Laurel—the one who cares for her sister, who’s always excited to try the latest Starbucks drink, who's been there for Felicity when she can’t be there for herself—isn’t here right now.  

Pushing her chair back Laurel storms out of the dining room without another thought. Sara’s openly crying now and Dinah’s also on the verge of tears, while Felicity’s frozen and doesn’t know what to do right now. Quentin turns around, his hands curled into tight fists as his eyes narrow in anger. “Get back here young lady!” But it’s too late—they hear the front door open and slam shut. 

It’s all Felicity needs to wake her out of her stupor.

She pushes back against her chair and stands up, her body thrumming with adrenaline and anger—at herself, at Laurel, at how everything’s spiraled so out of control. Like a woman possessed, Felicity walks right out of dinner and steps outside, hoping Laurel didn’t run off anywhere. Slamming the door shut (she plans to apologize later), Felicity sees Laurel standing at the end of the driveway with her phone in her hands and pacing back and forth.

Stalking over to her, Felicity crosses her arms and asks, “Laurel, what was that about?

She turns to her and rolls her eyes. “I know you like to pretend this is your family but it isn’t, so go home and stay out of it.”

Oh, so that’s how she wants to play it. Of course Laurel wants to say the most hurtful thing she can in an effort to push her away. If Felicity hadn’t worked through her abandonment issues and gone to therapy these past few years, maybe this would’ve gotten to her. Instead, it gives her the right amount of energy to fight back and now she’s done playing nice. 

“Fuck you.” Although it’s a chilly autumn evening, Felicity’s skin is burning from anger and she steps forward, knowing full well she’s in Laurel’s space. “You’re the one who called me about Sara, you’re the one who relies on me for—”

“Whatever. This isn’t worth my time.” Scoffing and rolling her eyes once more, Laurel turns around and waves at a car turning the corner, presumably her Uber. She begins to walk toward the street, and Felicity realizes if she doesn’t say what’s on her mind now she’ll never get the chance.

“Hey.” Ignoring her, Laurel focuses on her approaching Uber and the very obvious dismissal sends Felicity in a tailspin. She chases after her, her bare feet pounding on the pavement in frustration. “Hey! I’ve been willing to look past a lot of things but you’re way out of line.” By now the car has approached the both of them and Laurel goes to open the door, but Felicity swears she can see her hands shaking. Good. 

Felicity comes up in front of Laurel who’s opened the passenger door, and Felicity stands right by the driver’s side but she pays them no mind. She’s fuming and desperate to make Laurel see how she’s spiraled out of control, but in the back of her mind she knows it’s going wrong in all the ways she was hoping to avoid. “I’ve watched you become this—this ugly version of yourself who’s mean and almost misses work—”

“You don’t know what I’ve gone through!” Laurel shuts the door and sizes her up, but all Felicity can see is a broken woman who’s so deep in her own despair that she can’t see out of it. Laurel’s eyes, which used to be full of so much light, are haunted with regret and bad decisions, and the way she carries herself now is tortured and soulless. It hurts so much to see her this way. 

Shaking her head Felicity tries to reason with her. “Yeah I do and it’s not an excuse anymore!” Her voice trembling Felicity pleads, “This has gone beyond you being unemployed and dealing with heartbreak.” 

A gust of cold wind hits her and she shivers, though it might be due to what she has to say next. Felicity warily watches Laurel, whose chin is quivering, and she prays tonight will give Laurel the wakeup call she needs. A wakeup call Felicity’s held back from saying far too long now. 

“You’re an alcoholic and you need help.”

It’s completely silent save for Felicity’s ragged breathing and the gentle hum of the car’s engine. She searches for something, anything, that’ll let her know Laurel heard her but . . . Laurel’s eyes gloss over as if she hasn’t processed a single thing she said. She’s so empty and so lost. Swallowing thickly, Felicity watches Laurel get into the car and drive off to God knows where, and in that moment she feels like such a failure. She’s done absolutely nothing to help Laurel and this might have been the one and only chance she had to make things right. But she blew it. 

“Felicity?” 

She turns around to find Sara hugging herself and she cautiously steps forward, her eyes wide with fear. Felicity’s throat closes up and she can’t muster the energy to say anything. There’s nothing to say. Everything is broken and she can’t fix it. And that’s all she ever really wants, to fix things. To fix her broken home. To fix her broken heart. To fix her relationships. To fix people even when they don’t want her help. 

“I fucked up so bad, didn’t I?”

“C’mere.” Enveloping Sara in a hug, Felicity holds onto her as if she’s a liferaft in a vast ocean of uncertainty. And Felicity hopes she reaches land soon enough because she can’t take this any longer. 

They’ve been walking around the neighborhood for the past thirty minutes, taking random turns and strolling past immaculate lawns. When she was a kid all Felicity wanted was a large house with a large yard, not a tiny, two bedroom apartment with mean landlords. But tonight that dream doesn’t give her the escape she’s looking for. Instead, the very thought of living in these homes and having a certain kind of family feels oppressive. There’s so much room to walk but none to run. 

Felicity’s starting to understand Sara’s restlessness, now. This life constricts the free-spirited Sara, and it was only a matter of time before Sara couldn’t take it anymore. It doesn’t excuse her actions but Felicity knows Sara feels extremely guilty, and it takes strength to recognize when you’re wrong. 

The Sara in front of her now is quiet and measured, and Felicity wonders what exactly caused her to come home. It must have been hard. “Are you okay?”

Shrugging, Sara shoves her hands inside her pockets. “I actually really loved Nyssa.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

This is a first. At least her suspicions were right; still, somehow knowing Sara loved Nyssa makes this situation a thousand times more complicated, and she’s struck by how different Sara seems. She's young but also old enough for her heart to shatter in a million different ways, and understand some things aren’t meant to be.  

“You know, I wasn’t planning on coming home this early.” They continue to walk in silence while Felicity patiently waits. “But two days ago, we were in Seychelles and Nyssa told me we were going for a drive. We ended up in this private airspace, and she got out of the car and . . . I saw her talking to Oliver Queen.”

Felicity stops in her tracks. “What?”

"Yeah,” Sara continues as if she hasn’t dropped the biggest bombshell known to man, “he . . . convinced her to bring me back. I don’t know what he told her, but Nyssa agreed and I had no choice but to go.” 

Her vision swims and for a moment Felicity can’t breathe. She wants to sit down in the middle of the sidewalk, cry, or shake Sara senseless until she can get the real truth out of her. There’s no possible way Oliver could’ve brought Sara back—Felicity’s a renowned hacker and even she was having some trouble finding Sara. Her mind jumps from one impossibility to another, but as the seconds pass she realizes for someone with money and connections, finding the daughter of a drug lord might not be that difficult. 

Upon seeing Felicity is no longer walking next to her, Sara stops and turns around. “Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. He promised me not to.”

And he doesn’t want anyone to know what he did? Great. Groaning internally, Felicity’s still having a hard time processing Sara’s big secret and how Oliver Queen came into the picture. She can’t imagine why he would even bother with bringing Sara back. He owes Sara and the Lance family nothing—hell, he barely even knows Laurel let alone Sara. Besides, how did he even have the time to search for Sara and bring her back? And again, just why would he do this? 

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” Taking a deep breath, Felicity shoves her hands in her coat pocket and tries to pretend this isn’t affecting her as much. Oliver is a lot more complicated than she anticipated, but perhaps he’s always been this guy. In between all the judging, moping and working, Felicity never really took the time to see that Oliver isn’t the man she thought him to be. 

Hoping to change the subject Felicity adds, “And I’m sorry Nyssa did that.” She really is. 

Sara shrugs. “Yeah, well. It’s what I get for running off with someone like her, right?”

“No one deserves to be treated like that.” Especially not Oliver.   

It hits her then, when she’s curled up in her bed and waiting for the sun to rise: Oliver only brought Sara back after Felicity told him. He did it because it was the right thing to do and he didn’t even hesitate. 

Oliver Queen is complicated because Felicity’s made him to be. He’s just a man who’s kind, selfless and loves his sister. He’s someone with a past and who’s trying to grow up in front of millions of people, and in front of her own judgmental stares. He’s made mistakes like every other person on this planet and he manages to roll out of bed every morning without letting them weigh him down. He’s trying his best. 

As she burrows deeper inside her blanket, Felicity knows she’s indebted to Oliver forever. And not just for bringing Sara back, but for showing her how wrong she was about everything. For opening her eyes and proving to her that people can change, that people aren’t what they seem. And for that she’s forever grateful. 

She’s feeling pretty sluggish today as last night was a whirlwind of everything. Felicity didn’t see Laurel this morning, let alone check to see if she came back, but there’s no doubt they need their space right now. Of course, there’s a part of her wanting to make sure Laurel’s okay but there’s only so much she can do. Chasing after Laurel will only push her away, and Felicity needs to think about her next steps very carefully. 

Currently it’s lunch time now, and while Felicity normally goes to the nearest greasy food joint (i.e. Big Belly Burger), she’s in the mood for something a little healthier. Walking into Verdant, Felicity goes to stand in line and waits to place her order. Even though it’s a quarter till 12 there’s already a big line—it’s a trend she’s noticed only happens after the weekend. By the time Friday rolls around, there’s hardly a line to get salads and this restaurant is a ghost town. 

Eyeing the menu, Felicity doesn’t notice a tall figure come up behind her. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Oliver. At the sound of his voice Felicity’s heart skips a beat, and when she turns around it takes every ounce of willpower not to openly gape at him. He’s smiling at her, and his eyes are soft and searching under the fluorescent lighting. His cheeks are flushed from walking in the cold air, but he’s not wearing a coat over his suit—a suit that simultaneously leaves a lot and little to the imagination. 

But all the ogling feels strange when she’s reminded of Oliver’s very selfless deed, and how he’s been nothing but kind to her despite her own horrible treatment towards him. Now all she sees is a man who will help another in need, all while silently shouldering everyone’s judgments as he navigates the world. A man who took Felicity’s insults and accusations in stride, and hasn’t let that change how he treats her. 

“Hi!” Clearing her throat, Felicity tries to act normal in front of the man who’s turned her world upside down. “How are you?”

He smiles shyly. “Good, been busy. Although I feel like I'm on trial whenever I attend meetings with the Board. And there have been a lot,” he sighs.

She can’t imagine sitting with a group of high powered individuals for hours on end and getting grilled to death. As of late, Oliver’s also had a tough time in the public space—he had an interview on CNBC and Twitter decided to have a field day. Felicity watched the interview and felt he didn’t say anything inflammatory but his words were clearly taken out of context. Over the course of the next hour, Felicity went down a rabbit hole and tried to find other interviews and comments that were misrepresented, which turned out to be a lot. Even she’s fallen victim to believing everyone’s analyses instead of forming her own opinions about Oliver’s comments, something she vows not to continue doing. 

Upon watching his mood go sour Felicity hopes to lighten the atmosphere. "You would think being put on a Twitter trial every other day would help you prepare for your endless board meetings.”   

It does the trick—he laughs and shakes his head. “Tell me about it.” Smiling, they both step forward as the line gets smaller, and a moment of silence passes them. She’s tempted to say something else but Oliver beats her to it. “How was . . . the rest of your Hong Kong trip?” 

She balks and doesn’t know what to say to the man who brought Sara back in one piece. There’s a part of her wondering if she should tell Oliver that she knows what he did, but he specifically asked Sara to not tell anyone and Felicity’s not sure if she’s ready to have that conversation while she’s getting her lunch. In the end she pretends to not know anything, which is easier said than done.  

“All things considered not bad. I just need to put my findings together and hand it over to the team in Hong Kong.” Sighing, Felicity toys with the ring on her finger. “And then off to the next project.”

An odd look passes over Oliver’s face and he seems to struggle with what to say next. She hopes he doesn’t plan on telling her that sometimes you need to work hard to play hard because, well, she’s been working hard and hasn’t played much. As of late Felicity’s pretty worn out from the myriad of projects she’s been given. She doesn’t want Oliver to think she doesn’t appreciate working at QC—in fact, QC has given her more opportunities than she could’ve imagined. But she needs a break. 

Stepping forward once more, Felicity watches Oliver’s mouth open again and waits for him to say what’s on his mind. “Um, you’re not supposed to know this yet—you definitely didn’t hear it from me—but I heard from the grapevine that you’re being considered for a director position.”

Felicity stares at Oliver in shock and tries to grapple with his bombshell. “What?”  

“What can I get for you?”

Turning back around, Felicity sees an employee patiently waiting for her but she can’t think right now. She glances at Oliver once again but can’t ask him a million questions when there’s a line behind her. Inhaling deeply, she rattles off what she wants though she can’t focus. In between adding a hundred different toppings and trying not to trip over her own two feet, she’s hyper aware of Oliver behind her and wants to know if he really meant what he said. If she really is going to get promoted, when will this happen? Surely it can’t happen till March or April when QC hands out bonuses. And more importantly, Felicity’s only been a manager for a couple of years and hasn’t even been senior manager. How can she get promoted to director when there are plenty of others who deserve the title? 

By the time Felicity gets to the register her mind is a thousand miles away and she forgets she needs to pay. Shaking her head, Felicity goes to take out her credit card from her phone case when Oliver suddenly comes up from behind and says, “I got it for both of us.” Looking at the employee, Oliver gestures to their salad bowls. “Can you . . .”

The employee nods and goes to add their totals together. A flash of embarrassment hits Felicity and she struggles to convey that Oliver really doesn’t need to pay for her lunch. “Oh, I—I can’t let you do that. It’s not—I’m totally fine with—”

“I’m not doing anything, QC is.” Winking (God, even the way he winks is so cute), he whips out his company card and pays without another thought. She feels weird watching him pay for her lunch, especially since with all the extra additions it cost almost fifteen dollars. She already owes him so much and now there’s something else to add onto her list. 

Once he—well, QC—pays for their lunch, they walk outside in a companionable silence. The street is busy with passerbys trying to get their own lunch fix, but they continue to walk back towards the office at a leisurely pace. The normalcy of their interaction and walking side by side as if they’re good friends surprises her, and she craves more moments like these between them. There’s something safe and comforting being next to Oliver. 

“Thank you for lunch. You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“Hopefully Accounting doesn’t mind that you spent nearly thirty dollars on salads.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I can’t believe how much they cost. It’s just leaves.”

She finds herself smiling at their easy conversation. “Well, there’s an upcharge for the organic items, recyclable items, the pretentiousness of their whole business model . . .”

They reach the end of the sidewalk and wait for the crosswalk signal to let them go. Oliver toys with his large salad bowl and grins. Under the grey, October skies his eyes appear bluer than ever and she finds herself hypnotized by them. “I probably shouldn’t complain when it’s the only healthy food option in a four block radius.”

Nodding, Felicity watches a car speed through the intersection and, seeing no other cars are coming, walks before the crosswalk signal lights up. Oliver hesitates for a moment before following her, though she should probably be careful and not get QC’s future CEO murdered for jaywalking. He easily catches up to her and she says, “Eating their salads for lunch are the only healthy things I eat throughout the entire week, so I concur.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

She can’t believe herself—she’s blushing over the most basic comment anyone can give her, but somehow knowing Oliver can’t tell she gorges on Big Belly gets her hopes up in ways that haven’t in a long time. Felicity clears her throat in an effort to not say something embarrassing and tries to change the subject. 

“So about that thing you heard . . .” 

They’re fast approaching QC’s building and she desperately wants to know if Oliver was joking or misheard the rumor. She’s not known for her patience and can’t handle a mystery, especially one concerning her livelihood. This may be her only chance to get this out of Oliver and Felicity needs to know. 

“Right, yeah, just don’t be surprised when you get promoted in March as a director.”

“But I don’t even— how? ” 

They go through the revolving door and approach the elevators, swiping in their badges to let them through. Her mind is running a mile a minute and she finds herself at a loss for words. The news that this is truly happening should make her excited, but Felicity’s so shocked that she can’t process anything. She doesn’t feel she deserves it when she hasn’t even hit thirty yet, but in the back of her mind she knows all her hard work is starting to pay off. 

“People are taking notice. You’ve done great work for QC, Felicity.” He presses the elevator button and selects the floor he needs to go on, while Felicity does the same. The waiting area is starting to get a little crowded and she spots a few people watching Oliver in hopes he’ll acknowledge their presence. But as she noticed back in Hong Kong, Oliver’s entirely focused on her and isn’t the least bit distracted by all the staring. 

As they wait for their respective elevators, he takes a small step towards her and leans forward, as if he plans on whispering a secret to her. Her mind freezes up and damn , staring at Oliver this close is making her body go haywire. She’s reminded of the dance they shared all those months ago—her skin tingling at his touch, the soft look in his eyes—and wonders if her body knew then what her heart didn’t. 

“You’re one of our biggest assets and the work you’ve done for us is irreplaceable. The least we can do is promote you.”

Warmth blossoms in the pit of her stomach and her breath hitches as she tries not to let the importance of this moment go to waste. She’s reminded of when she met Oliver in the club all those months ago and felt embarrassed for discussing her work in front of him. But now, he’s thanking her and letting her know she’s a valued member of this company. It means the world to her. 

“Thanks, Oliver.”

“Sure.” Smiling gently, Oliver turns to see that his elevator has arrived and he steps inside. He nods and adds, “I’ll see you around.” 

By the time Felicity comes back to her office and settles in front of her computer with her free lunch, she realizes Oliver told her about the future promotion only after she briefly expressed how tired she is from work. He correctly assumed she was being overworked without Felicity uttering a single word, and tried to make her feel better by spilling details about her eventual promotion. 

Oliver Queen really is something else, isn’t he? 

The next couple of days pass by with no fanfare, though Felicity has yet to be in the same room as Laurel. By the time Felicity comes back from work Laurel’s either sleeping or away, and when she leaves in the morning she doesn’t bother to check if Laurel’s back home. She can see from her social media that Laurel’s hanging out with other friends and staying busy, but it’s all a ruse. 

Felicity knows she can’t fix Laurel, but she’s willing to jump off the highest mountain if it means she can be there for her. And yet, that all depends on Laurel and whether she even wants Felicity by her side. She regrets blowing up on Laurel at dinner as it only pushed her away, but Felicity’s struggling to figure out how to deal with this situation. It’s uncharted territory for her but the only thing Felicity can do is be the rock Laurel needs, even if she doesn’t realize it. 

It’s evening time now and Felicity is lying on her bed, trying not to let her mind tear itself apart. After a few minutes of listening to the hum of the heater in her room and muffled noises from the street below, she’s unprepared to hear a gentle knock on her door and interrupt her mindfulness session. 

“Felicity?”

She sits up immediately and watches the door in apprehension. Her throat suddenly feels dry and for some inexplicable reason Felicity smoothes out her skirt. It’s only Laurel—how bad can it be? “Yeah?”

The door slowly opens and Laurel comes into view, nervousness etched all over her face. A lump forms in Felicity’s throat and she has to physically prevent herself from running into her arms. Leaning against the door frame, Laurel clears her throat and toys with the edges of her sleeves, avoiding any and all eye contact. “Can you—Are you busy right now?”

This seems important and Felicity’s heart automatically wants to ease Laurel’s worries. “What do you need?”

Taking a deep breath, Laurel finally looks up at her and for the first time in months, Felicity notices something different about her. Her eyes aren’t distant and glassy, and a second later Felicity’s able to recognize what’s changed: Laurel looks hopeful.  

“Do you think you can drop me off somewhere? Only if—if you can. If you have the time.”

It seems Laurel’s hopefulness is contagious, because there’s something about Laurel’s question that causes Felicity to stand up from her bed as if nothing’s happened between them. A couple of seconds pass when she realizes, no matter how small the request is, that Laurel’s asking Felicity for help—help she hasn’t asked for in a long time. And that’s all she needs to grab her purse and coat off her chair, ready to go wherever Laurel needs to.  

“Where to?”

The ride to Laurel’s mystery destination is silent with Laurel only speaking to give Felicity directions. The location is pretty far from their apartment, and after twenty minutes Felicity realizes they’re edging on The Glades. She feels a little apprehensive but knows Laurel wouldn’t suggest coming somewhere that wasn’t safe. The sun is about to set and she slows down, looking around to see where she should drop Laurel off.  

“Where do I stop?”

Laurel puts her phone in her purse and points to a building on the left. “I think at this . . . church.”

Confused, Felicity sees an open spot and manages to parallel park in one try (a personal best). Shutting off her car, Felicity looks at the surrounding area and sees a few people entering the church, all greeting a lone person by the entrance. She sees people of various backgrounds and wonders why they’re all congregating when there appears to be no church service today. But as the silence drags on and Felicity continues to watch people enter the church, she’s hit with the sudden realization this is an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. 

“Laurel I . . .”

Looking over at her, Felicity’s eyes well up with tears—from happiness, relief or sadness, she doesn’t know. But what she does know is that Laurel’s taking the first step towards making a lasting change. They may not be blood related but for all intents and purposes they’re family, and no matter what happens Felicity will always be there for her . 

“I’m sorry, Felicity. You were right—I have a . . . problem.” Exhaling harshly, Laurel glances off at the church before focusing on Felicity. It seems a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders but she understands the seriousness of what’s transpired the last few months. “And I can’t blame it on anything or anyone but myself.”

It takes an immense amount of strength to admit that and to be vulnerable enough to say it out loud. She’s so proud of Laurel for acknowledging she wants to get better. It’s going to be a long and arduous road ahead and she doesn’t doubt things will be tough before they get better. There may be days when Laurel won’t want Felicity by her side, and there will be times when Felicity feels like things are going bad again. But they’ll go through this together and it’s all that matters.  

Facing Laurel, she grabs a hold of her lithe hand and gives a tight squeeze. Felicity wants to say and do so much for Laurel right now, but she gives her comfort the only way she knows how. 

“I’ll be waiting here until you’re finished, okay?” And I'll be waiting here for as long as you need me to.

Chapter Text

“So I went around the alleyway and . . .” 

As McKenna continues with her story, Felicity’s eyes drift over to her laptop where she’s got an article open about Oliver’s new initiative called HIVE. The program teaches coding to girls in underserved communities for free, as well as offering in-person and online tutoring. Even better, girls who graduate from the program are eligible for an internship at QC provided they’re attending college in the fall. There’s a quote from Oliver that Felicity skims over, but she continues to discreetly scroll down while McKenna chats about her work. 

Her eyes focused on her laptop, Felicity throws an “Uh huh” just to make it seem like she’s paying attention. But as much as she loves McKenna and is excited to talk to her via FaceTime, she can’t stop thinking about this new initiative Oliver’s started. It’s . . . amazing. It combines everything Felicity loves—coding, volunteering and helping those in need all in one. She wants nothing more than to be a part of this; in fact, she wishes she was one the recruits and could learn coding all over again. And to know the girls will get a chance to intern at QC means there’s a possibility she might be able to mentor them which gets her all kinds of excited.

As she continues to read the article, she doesn’t realize it’s now quite obvious she’s ignoring McKenna and isn’t prepared to hear a loud “Hey!” coming from her phone. 

“You’re not even listening to me!” McKenna shakes her in disappointment and jest. 

“No I am!” Her skin flaming in embarrassment, Felicity tries to pretend she’s the attentive friend she claims to be. “You said there’s a creep who keeps trying to ask you out.”

“Felicity, that was like five minutes ago. You’re killing me.”

“I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind right now.” Shutting the laptop, Felicity settles in her bed and focuses entirely on McKenna who’s trying to hold back a smile. “I’m all yours.”

“As you should be!” Laughing, McKenna changes subjects and Felicity desperately tries to focus on her conversation with McKenna. But soon enough, her mind can’t help but drift over to the amazing initiative Oliver’s started and wonders how long he’s been planning this. And then she wonders if he’s always been the kind of guy to create programs like HIVE, but never really had the courage to do something he was passionate about knowing the whole world would judge him for it. 

Either way, he’s proven himself to be the kind of man who cares for others. He’s proven himself to be a lot of things, really. And Felicity was the only one who didn’t recognize it until it was too late. 

It’s a quiet Tuesday evening in the apartment—Laurel’s lounging around with a face mask and playing some music while Felicity paints her nails. For a brief moment, Felicity swears they’re back in college holed up in their respective dorms with no care in the world. She’s hit with an intense sense of bittersweet nostalgia and wishes she could go back to that time. But although they’ve grown up and the real world isn’t what they thought it would be, she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

This past month has been a whirlwind of ups and downs as they learn to navigate Laurel’s sobriety. Felicity immediately took it upon herself to throw out any and all alcohol in their apartment, while Laurel spent the first week opening up to her family about her struggle. Unfortunately Laurel had some withdrawal symptoms such as severe headaches, which caused her to turn irritable and needing to take a couple of days off work to get through it. Thankfully, the worst of it subsided and for the next couple of weeks, Felicity and Laurel spent almost all their free time together as they navigated this new normal. 

During the week and especially on the weekends, they shop or try different activities around the city to take their mind off things. Felicity will drive Laurel to her weekly AA meetings, and since Laurel’s gotten into yoga and meditation they’ve decided to implement it into their routine, which Felicity is surprisingly starting to like. Things are different—her and Laurel aren't butting heads, they're in sync with one another, and for the first time in months things are starting to look up. 

With her left hand complete, Felicity goes to paint her right when Laurel asks, “Are you available Thursday? I’ve got my one month sober anniversary that day and I want you to be there.”

It’s been one month already? Warmth blossoms in the pit of her stomach—she’s so proud of Laurel for getting this far, and hopes this momentum and positive change lasts. And for Laurel wanting her to be at the meeting instead of waiting outside means more to her than anything else in the world. “Of course, you never have to ask! I’ll block out my calendar right now.” 

Laurel smiles shyly. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Reaching for her phone, Felicity tries to unlock it without damaging her freshly painted nails, but somehow manages to make a dent on her thumb nail. Grimacing, Felicity forgets to pencil in Laurel’s AA meeting and instead goes to fix her nail she ruined. It’s quiet for a moment as Laurel’s still in the process of letting her face mask marinate and Felicity tries to undo the damage when she suddenly hears a loud gasp from Laurel.

Still focused on her nail, Felicity doesn’t bother looking up. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Tommy.”

Oh no. Her stomach drops at the sound of his name and she looks up at Laurel, her face frozen with shock and her spine straight like an arrow. A million different emotions ricochet in her mind but there’s one, all consuming thought: why did he have to contact Laurel now, right when she’s in the middle of going through a crucial point in her life? Tommy’s presence is the last thing Laurel needs, and Felicity wishes he waited a few more months to contact her. It’s been an extremely rough road to get here and she’s worried all the progress Laurel’s made will vanish the moment she dredges up old wounds. And they can’t afford that. 

Swallowing thickly, Felicity tries not to make the situation worse and schools her features, though it’s easier said than done. “What does his text say?”

Laurel blinks furiously and looks at her phone once more, still dazed from receiving Tommy’s text. “He said he misses me and wants to meet up. I guess since we never had a post-breakup chat he wants to do one now.”

“Okay.” Eyeing her with caution Felicity probes, “How do you feel about it?”

Sighing, Laurel shakes her head and leans back against the couch. For someone who’s had a literal bomb dropped on her she’s remarkably calm. “I wanna meet him and I need closure, and I should probably apologize for how I acted.” She taps her fingers against her phone while Felicity waits with bated breath. “But I’m afraid of the conversation going sideways and I get—I don’t want to be an emotional wreck and fall into bad habits all over again.”

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Felicity unclenches all of her muscles she was holding and relaxes. Felicity’s glad Laurel wants to set boundaries and for realizing her conversation with Tommy might not be the best for her. She’s definitely come a long way from the person who wouldn’t even consider acknowledging her own feelings. Hopefully this means she can delay her meeting-with-the-ex chat for a little while longer.

“Your mental health is way more important. I think if you tell him it’s not a good time right now he’ll understand.” 

Sitting forward Laurel gingerly touches her mask, which is starting to dry, and glances off to the side. “Yeah but . . . I do want to speak to him. It’s been bothering me that we left the things the way we did.”

Felicity opens her mouth to convince Laurel this could be a really, really bad idea but it might be not in her place to do so. Laurel’s an adult and knows what she needs to do in order to find inner peace. In all the ways they’ve gotten closer this past month, as well as being Laurel’s best friend, Felicity doesn’t truly know Laurel and can’t make this decision for her. But what she can do is be there for her and guide Laurel when she needs it. And perhaps . . . things could be different this time around. 

“What exactly did he say?”

Laurel unlocks her phone and reads the message once again. “He said he’s been thinking about it and ‘After some encouragement from my therapist and friend’—he always did tend to overshare—he feels we should talk.”

A lump forms in her throat and her vision swims as she tries not to pass out in the living room. This . . . wasn’t a random text. This is more than a coincidence. This was sent deliberately, sent after many discussions and after speaking with no other than Oliver Queen. Who else could be the “friend” Tommy referred to? Who else could have the power to convince Tommy to reach out after all these months? It was Oliver. It had to be. Although she’s been wrong about a lot of things, this . . . this she’s right about. She knows she is. 

She’s not sure why Oliver would do this. Perhaps he feels he owes it to Tommy and Laurel to fix things between them since he helped drive the final wedge between them. But he didn’t gain anything from bringing Sara back home, so what else does Oliver have to gain from this? 

Focusing back on painting her nails, Felicity tries not to let this latest development send her in a tailspin, but her mind is running a million different scenarios at once and she can’t focus. There’s an answer out there somewhere and she’ll find it.   

She has to.

A chair creaks in protest as someone behind her moves in their seat, while another person loudly munches on a free donut not too far from her. The church basement has a faint moldy smell to it, and mixed in with the stale coffee and donuts, it’s not very pleasant. But Felicity pays it no mind as Laurel’s currently standing in front of the podium, nervousness etched all over her face. She catches Laurel’s eye and smiles warmly, which gives Laurel the courage to finally speak.

“Hi everyone. My name’s Laurel and I’m an alcoholic.”

A gentle chorus of “Hi Laurel” reverberates throughout the basement, then it’s back to being painfully silent.

“Today I’ll be one month sober. It’s crazy how over the course of a few months I went from having no drinking problem to a . . . major one.” Her voice wavers and she glances down at her hands, while Felicity’s own heart pinches at the memories. “One day I'm fine and the next I'm screaming at my family.” Exhaling loudly, Laurel steps closer to the podium and looks up at the room in earnestness. Being this open in front of strangers is nothing short of scary, but Laurel’s taking all of this in stride. “But now that I’m sober every day goes by so slowly. It’s been tough.” 

Felicity’s breath catches in her throat—it’s the first time Laurel’s admitted (at least to Felicity) how hard it’s been for her. It will always be hard. But after seeing all the strides Laurel’s made this past month, as well as seeing her blossom under everyone’s support and encouragement, Felicity knows Laurel’s going to be okay. 

After all, she has Felicity. 

“Anyway, I reached a milestone I never thought I could, and I want to thank my best friend and sister for being there for me even when I couldn’t be there for myself. She saw me spiraling and didn’t give up on me. I couldn’t have done this without her.” 

Felicity’s heart beats thunderously beneath her chest as her heart swells in happiness and relief. For so long Felicity felt responsible for Laurel spiraling out of control and thought it was her fault for not seeing the early warning signs. There are still moments where Felicity wonders how this would’ve turned out if she wasn’t so focused on work and her personal drama. She feels like she owes Laurel, but hearing how appreciative she is of Felicity’s friendship and support means so much to her. She’s done everything for Laurel without the expectation of receiving even a thank you, and she’ll gladly continue being there for Laurel no matter what happens.

“So, thanks Felicity. I love you.” 

With tears openly falling down her face, Felicity stands up and walks towards Laurel as she steps away from the podium. Laurel’s eyes are also brimming with tears, and amidst a chorus of claps Felicity grabs her best friend—her sister—in a bone crushing hug. These past few months have tested their friendship in ways Felicity didn’t think was possible. But Felicity hopes this hug will be able to convey how much she loves her, how much she’s willing to do whatever it takes to see Laurel happy, thriving, and living the best life she deserves to have. 

As they continue hugging one another surrounded by strangers who have had their own personal struggles and won against their demons, Felicity feels something right then—she feels the power of acceptance. Of owning up to one’s mistakes and acknowledging them. Of forgiveness and recognizing people grow and learn. Of understanding life is what you make of it and no one can tell you otherwise. 

And she also realizes people change because their circumstances force them to, and sometimes they change because it’s the only way to adapt. Or they change because it’s time to.

Once they untangle themselves from one another and sit back down with their arms draped around each other, Felicity now understands why Oliver brought Sara home and helped lay the seeds of a reconciliation between Tommy and Laurel: he wanted to without expecting anything in return. It's as simple as that.

Glancing over at Laurel and realizing how far they’ve come as friends and individuals, Felicity can admit Oliver Queen might be one of the kindest, selfless people she’s come to know. He didn't start off that way but he is that person now. And if he can forgive and accept himself for who he is, maybe Felicity can too. 

Maybe she already has. 

It’s Friday afternoon now, and after yesterday’s emotional evening Felicity can’t wait to go home and gorge on food and movies. The meeting she just left is the last one for the day, but she’s got another three hours before she can officially head out. Grumbling to herself, Felicity’s so deep in imagining her dinner for tonight that she doesn't spot Oliver coming around the corner until he’s only a couple of feet away from her. 

Her heart skipping a beat, Felicity slows her steps and waits for him to approach. His demeanor instantly brightens once he sees her and a strange sensation courses through Felicity. Her lips tug upward and her chest feels as if it’ll burst, while her stomach flips and flops the closer he comes. “Hey!”

As Oliver steps forward he grins and asks, “How’s your day going so far?”

Oh boy. She’s known Oliver for a while now and seeing him in a suit shouldn’t make her react in any sort of way, but it’s impossible not to. No matter what time of day it is, Felicity's convinced he’s stepped off a runway and she has a feeling the whole world would agree with her. There’s a certain air of nonchalance about him. Everything about him is unassuming and casual, as if he doesn’t know he has the ability to command everyone’s attention in the room but he could if he wanted to. It is, for lack of a better word, hot. 

Oliver Queen is a perfectly packaged ball of BDE and Felicity . . . is attracted to that. And now she can see why everyone else is, too. 

“It’s Friday and my dream of eating a bowl of nachos for dinner will be a reality in about three more hours."

Oliver throws his head back and laughs, an outright, deep laugh straight from the belly. She’s fascinated—she watches his skin flush just a hint due to his laughter, and his eyes crinkle up in genuine happiness. It’s a beautiful sight and sound, and for a brief moment Felicity yearns for more. 

"I’m more partial to Wednesdays, but yeah, I’m looking forward to the weekend also.”

Grinning at Oliver’s reaction to her comment she asks, “Anything special about Wednesdays I should know about?” 

Oliver starts to walk forward and Felicity follows suit, back to where she originally came from, though she doesn’t know where he’s exactly headed. She’s hyper aware of Oliver’s body next to hers, warm and inviting, and for some inexplicable reason she finds herself wanting to burrow herself into his arms. Whoa there, Smoak. Shaking those strange thoughts out of her mind, Felicity focuses back on Oliver who’s now speaking animatedly. “Wednesdays are now designated tutoring days here at QC for this new initiative—”

“Oh right, HIVE!” His eyes widen at her enthusiasm and she feels bad for interrupting him, but she’s been excited about this since the moment she found out. Besides, Oliver deserves to know how great this is. “It’s amazing, Oliver.”

Oliver bashfully looks down as they continue to walk, and she swears she can see a hint of a blush forming on his cheeks. It’s cute watching him get all flustered. “Thanks but I . . . can’t take too much credit for it.” 

His reaction to her praise is a far cry from the man she first met, and Felicity’s struck by how different Oliver’s become. Or perhaps it’s how she views him which has changed, and if the past few months are any indication, it’s by a lot. 

“You should. From someone who grew up in similar circumstances I wish there was a program like HIVE when I was in high school.” Even though she knows Oliver wouldn’t think any less of her for growing up poor, she feels shy for divulging something not many people know about her. She’s worked so hard to make sure people see her as an intelligent, smart woman instead of a poor girl from Las Vegas who won the genius lottery. “You’re doing something great. You should be proud of yourself.”

They turn another corner and it’s then when Felicity realizes they’re going towards Oliver’s office. She takes a peek at him and tries not to get lost in the sight of his impressive jawline, though it’s easier said than done. Surprisingly he’s still blushing and refuses to meet her eyes. “Well, we’re in need of mentors and tutors, so if you’re interested I would be honored if you joined.”

“Are you kidding? I signed up to be a mentor before you even thought of creating HIVE. Count me in.” 

They both enter Oliver’s office and Felicity tries very hard not to drool at the beautiful views his office has to offer. All of Star City can be seen below, and to the left she can spot the bay glittering in the sunlight. As gorgeous as the view is, Felicity’s not particularly a fan of heights and steps forward just enough to where she’s standing in the middle of his rather spacious office, but not an inch closer to the windows. 

He huffs another laugh and says, “I’ll be sure to add your name to the list.” Oliver, oblivious to her fear of heights, places his laptop on his desk and leans against the frame. Everything—from the way they casually walked back to his office, to the way Oliver’s leaning against his desk and smiling up at her—seems so normal and easy.  

In that moment Felicity’s heart pinches painfully and she realizes she’s missed out on so many other opportunities to spend time with Oliver in this way. What if she spent her time at Tommy’s house in The Hamptons getting to know Oliver—the real Oliver, not the one made up by the tabloids and by Felicity’s own resentments—instead of finding more reasons to hate him? What if, instead of digging around for dirt on him, she just ignored it? What if, instead of letting her passive aggressiveness get to her and acting like a child, she gave Oliver an opportunity to explain his comments towards her back in the club all those months ago?  

If there’s anything this past month navigating Laurel’s sobriety has taught her, it’s that you own up to your mistakes and find a way to move on. And she hasn’t been able to when she hasn’t apologized to the one person who took her insults and accusations in stride, brought Sara home, and attempted to reconcile Tommy and Laurel without telling a soul. Instead of treating Felicity any differently he’s been nothing but kind and understanding, and she knows she doesn’t deserve it, especially not after the way she treated him. In these past few months he’s shown her what it means to be a genuinely good person, something she can’t say for herself. Oliver’s taken every bit of prejudice and assumption she’s made about him and flipped them over by quietly letting his actions speak of his true character. And that’s more than what people do in an entire lifetime.

She owes him an apology and a thank you. He’s single handedly shown her the art of growing up with grace and humility, and for that she’s forever grateful. 

“Um actually, while I’m here I wanted to . . .” 

Anxiety grips her in a way that hasn’t in a long time now. Her palms are beginning to turn slick with nervousness, but there’s no turning back now that Oliver’s staring at her. There’s a large part of her wanting to run away, but if everyone else has managed to own up to their mistakes then so can Felicity. Taking a deep breath, Felicity maintains a steady eye on Oliver and gives herself a second to acknowledge the importance of this moment. She wants to make this count and to do it right. 

Inhale, exhale. She knows she’s ready when a sense of serenity washes over her, and when Felicity realizes no matter what happens here she’s done her very best. Everything from here on is up to Fate, and for the first time in her life, Felicity’s okay with not knowing what the future entails. 

“I know I’ve been—I know things between us haven’t been the best. And I definitely have a part to play in that. But I wanted to thank you for what you did for Sara.” 

All the air in Oliver’s office is sucked away the moment she says those words. To his credit Oliver keeps perfectly still, but his fingers oh so slightly grip the edge of his desk. Ah, she forgot this was supposed to be a secret. “She let it slip.” 

He’s still staring at her with wide, shocked eyes and he hasn’t let go of his grip on the edge of his desk. But now that Felicity’s started she finds herself unable to stop and everything tumbles forth. “It’s just . . . I know you didn’t have to do it, let alone even—I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” 

No amount of thank yous or smiles will ever be enough. He was the Lance family’s saving grace—one extra week and Felicity knows Sara wouldn’t have come back at all. But the moment he found out about Roy’s involvement he took it upon himself to do something he had no reason to, and tracked down a drug lord’s daughter when that could’ve blown back on him severely. And to do a selfless deed like that . . . Well, she owes him. 

Oliver’s quiet and still hasn’t moved, let alone breathe, but somehow his silence makes it easier to keep talking. “And I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you convinced Tommy to reach out to Laurel?” 

That finally breaks him—he looks down at the ground and it gives Felicity all the confirmation she needs. She still doesn’t know why he would try to reconcile Laurel and Tommy, but he made an effort to fix something he probably feels responsible for breaking, and it’s all that matters. “I guess I should thank you for that as well.”

A group of employees walk by Oliver’s office and it’s then when Felicity realizes the door to his office is wide open. A flash of embarrassment hits her and she prays no one’s heard anything so far. But if she closes the door now it might break the spell and she can’t afford that, especially when she’s got more to say. Stepping forward which, given how close the windows are now, makes her go into a slight panic mode, Felicity inhales deeply and tries to gather every bit of courage she has to say what’s next. A brief flash of panic flickers across Oliver’s perfectly stoic face, but he maintains a neutral facade while Felicity struggles with her thoughts. 

“I should also apologize for how I treated you. Back in Central City. The things I said . . . It was so, so wrong of me.” 

Her skin burns in shame and she can feel unwanted tears spring into her eyes. She can’t imagine someone she vaguely knows coming up to her face while screaming about everything they hate about her. It would undoubtedly make her self-conscious and nervous to even step outside in fear of doing something that’ll be taken in the wrong way. Instead, Oliver took the time to write a personal, heartfelt email at great personal risk, and continued to treat her with the utmost kindness even though she didn’t deserve it. She was so incredibly mean to him and she feels horrible about it. 

Felicity blinks to push the tears away and doesn’t fail to notice Oliver gripping the edge of his desk even tighter. “You’re not at all the man I accused you of being. I was rude and hurtful and I judged you even though I barely knew you. 

“I’m so sorry. And I hope in time . . . you can forgive me.” 

Something happens a second right after she apologizes—her chest, normally weighted with so many thoughts and regrets, feels considerably lighter and her shoulders drop in response. For once her head isn’t spinning with deadlines, conversations and past mistakes. And whether this means Oliver will be in her life or not she doesn’t know, but Felicity knows one thing: despite all the heartaches she’s gone through these past few months, she was meant to end up in this exact spot. She was meant to learn from her mistakes, and from Oliver’s, in order to truly understand the meaning of acceptance and forgiveness.

Moving on is liberating, and so is being able to stand in front of a man who’s challenged her beliefs and judgements without the expectation of receiving anything in return. She’s apologizing because she wants to, much like how Oliver helped Laurel and Sara. 

It’s as simple as that.

Glancing up, Felicity’s not prepared to see Oliver staring at her with such nakedness that it feels strangely intimate. His eyes are soft and searching, and she’s struck by how safe and calm she feels right now. There’s so much unsaid in between—Oliver’s mouth opens a couple of times but nothing comes out, and his thumbs tap against the edge of his desk, clearly a nervous gesture. Unsure of what to do from here, Felicity fidgets under his piercing gaze but she wants to let him know that she—

“Mr. Queen?”

And just like that, the spell is broken.

Felicity immediately steps back to give herself some space and desperately tries to pretend she didn’t just pour her heart out. Oliver, too, clears his throat and relaxes his hold against his desk. Glancing over to the door Felicity spots a thin, attractive woman with sky high heels peering into Oliver’s office. She pays Felicity no mind as if she’s a fly on a wall and stares at Oliver until he’s forced to acknowledge her presence.

“Not now, Isabel.”

It’s almost scary how deep and unfriendly Oliver’s voice just turned into (key word almost ) because the lady doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the change. Instead, her eyes bore into his with practiced apathy and she deadpans, “Mr. Queen, you have a meeting with—”

“Yes yes, I know. I’ll be there in a—”

“Mr. Diggle said he wants you to be there on time.”

Now that sobers him up. He sighs and closes his eyes in defeat. “All right. Thank you, Isabel.” The severe looking woman leaves while Oliver stands up and grabs his laptop. Her breath catching in her throat, Oliver glances at the door then back at her, and he opens his mouth to say something. It takes him a moment to do so, but he stares at her with such intensity she can’t breathe. “I’m sorry, I . . .”

Felicity waves off his apology—she’s in his office in the middle of a workday and dropping a huge monologue when he’s busy with work, to which he’s taken surprisingly pretty well.  “It’s okay.” Releasing a shaky breath, Felicity gathers all the little bits and pieces of herself she threw in the wind, though she’s positive there are pieces missing. But it might be for the better. 

“Have a good weekend, Oliver.”

Suddenly shy for baring her soul out to Oliver, she doesn’t give him an opportunity to say anything as she turns to leave. Much to her surprise her steps are calm and steady, and as Felicity walks down the hallway her mind is blissfully blank. By the time she gets to the elevators there’s one available, and as she steps inside Felicity grins. Before she knows it, she’s quietly laughing to herself in the middle of an empty elevator, her mind and heart finally free.

One chapter has ended and another begins. And somehow, someway, Felicity’s going to make it count.

Much to her chagrin Felicity didn’t get a chance to eat a bowl of nachos for dinner, but instead she got a hearty serving of grilled cheese sandwich which is an acceptable alternative. Currently, she’s lounging in her living room with her skirt unzipped to allow some wiggle room and watching whatever rom-com is available on Netflix. Laurel’s having dinner with her family, as they’ve all agreed to meet once a week and try to maintain a sense of normalcy despite Dinah and Quentin’s impending divorce. It even seems like Laurel’s starting to look forward to these dinners now. 

Felicity’s glad she has the apartment to herself tonight. After all that transpired with Oliver earlier today she just needs a moment to breathe and sit on the couch with her stomach out. Embarrassingly enough, apologizing to Oliver took a lot out of her, but she feels like she accomplished a lot today and wants a quiet evening to celebrate by doing absolutely nothing. 

Just as Felicity’s stomach looks like it’ll deflate and she considers sitting on the couch the rest of the evening like a total slob, there’s a gentle knock on the door which causes her to jump. Who could be coming to her door this late in the evening? And worse, her doorman didn’t call to inform her someone was here. (She’ll have to speak to them about this.) Felicity waits to see if the person will knock again—if not, then this was all a mistake and she can go back to being a couch potato in peace. But a few seconds later there’s another knock, and groaning at the development, she manages to push herself up from the couch and walks over to her door. Looking through the door hole, she sees none other than Oliver Queen’s blown up face on the other side.

Frack! How did—why even—Never mind. She can’t afford to panic right now, and as she struggles to tuck in her shirt and zip up her skirt, Felicity checks herself in the mirro to ensure she doesn’t have a string of cheese falling out of her mouth. Thankfully she looks somewhat presentable but she almost doesn’t recognize herself—her eyes shine with excitement and her cheeks are flushed from something she can’t place. 

This is . . . strange. But she doesn’t have time to think, because a second longer and Oliver might leave. Taking a deep breath, Felicity counts backwards from three and opens the door as casually as she can, all while pretending she wasn’t gorging on food a couple of minutes ago. 

“Oliver. Hi!" 

She hates how her voice is already breathless, but seeing Oliver stand in front of her door with the sleeves of his collared shirt rolled up is disarming her in the worst (or maybe best) of ways. He looks surprised to see her even though he’s the one who decided to come, his eyes wide and his mouth pursed into a thin line. For a brief moment, Felicity’s afraid her confession from this afternoon did more harm than good but knows her fear is misplaced when Oliver begins to rub his chin in nervousness. This is weird — what’s going on? 

“Hi. I, um, I’m sorry for coming here unannounced.” 

Felicity considers saying something witty but feels this is important and doesn’t want to make Oliver more anxious. Her heart begins to hammer away and she prays Oliver can’t hear it. Keeping silent, Felicity watches Oliver as he struggles what to say next, all while she tries to figure out why he’s even here. 

“I just—this afternoon, what you said in my office. Um, was it . . .” 

So that’s why. Felicity’s mouth pools with saliva and she fidgets, afraid of what Oliver wants to say. Now she’s worried she said the wrong thing and her apology didn’t have the conclusion she had hoped for. Glancing down at her hands, she toys with the loose skin around her fingernails and thinks of all the ways she can backpedal on her confession from earlier today. Maybe she should’ve thought this through before word / apology vomiting on Oliver

“I should be the one thanking you.”

Oh. Her eyes snapping up to his, she finds herself wanting to get lost in the depths of his cerulean eyes. He looks so sincere and earnest just standing there in the middle of her hallway, not at all the Oliver Queen the world has come to know. But he looks like the Oliver she’s come to know, someone who’s flipped her world upside down, who loves his baby sister, and creates programs to help those in need. And someone who’s thanking her for . . . treating him horribly? 

She’s a little shocked to say the least. “I don’t think I've done anything that warrants that . . .”

Shaking his head, Oliver steps forward and her heart jumps at the proximity, her skin begging to be touched. This all feels strangely intimate, from the way he’s looking at her like she’s the sun and stars, to how their voices have dropped an octave. It’s just them wrapped up in this tiny bubble filled with unsaid words, each desperate to make the other understand. 

“You showed me all the ways I’ve been just wrong.

“You were right—it wasn’t in my place to try and break up Laurel and Tommy. And it wasn’t fair of me to say the things I did about Laurel. And I have been known for being arrogant. I’ve spent my whole life having everyone tell me how great I am and let me get away with things because I’m a Queen. You didn’t.”

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, Felicity tries to process what Oliver just said though it’s easier said than done. As much as Oliver’s thank you feels undeserved, she knows exactly what he’s going through. He’s shown her all the ways she was wrong about him and she supposes she should thank him for that, too. It’s not very often you’re presented with the opportunity to learn and grow in your time and space, and meeting Oliver was the biggest blessing in disguise. And she hopes Oliver feels the same way about her. 

“You might be the first person to thank me for yelling at them.” 

“Oh, right, well—you’re very scary when you’re angry.” He gives a shy smile but turns serious a moment later. “But I . . . I just wanted to say that.” Clearing his throat, Oliver holds her gaze and gives a slight nod, and there’s a sense of finality now. It’s over. 

No. There’s no way they’re going to go back to randomly seeing each other in the hallways or various locations around the world. You don’t just come to someone's apartment in the evening to drop a personal thank you note. In the back of Felicity’s mind she’s not ready for this to be over, not when . . .

“You came all the way to my apartment on a Friday evening to only say thanks?”  

Her question comes out in a whisper, because if she speaks any louder she’s afraid this will all be a dream and she’ll go back to being a judgy workaholic pre-Oliver. But it’s all starting to make sense now, why she gets all nervous around Oliver, why his presence makes her say or do things she normally wouldn’t. It makes sense why her feelings have changed after finding out who he really is, and why she doesn’t want to let him go. 

“Actually, no.” 

She feels it right then: hope. It consumes every inch of her and circles around her body, swirling higher and higher until she’s absolutely swimming in it. The more she stares at Oliver the more she realizes she wants every opportunity to be near him, to hold him, to maybe—just maybe —fall in love with him. And something tells her it would be the easiest thing to fall headfirst into new and uncharted oceans with Oliver by her side. 

“I want you to know, no matter what you think of me or if I never . . .” Shaking his head, he takes a deep breath and looks straight at Felicity, his eyes shining with sincerity. “I would bring Sara home and try to repair Laurel and Tommy’s relationship all over again for you. If I could go back in time and make sure I didn’t make the same mistakes, I would. Just so you wouldn’t think less of me. Because I think the world of you.”

“I think the world of you, too.”

She does. Truly. 

Oliver lets out a shaky breath and she watches his shoulders drop in relief. She can’t resist smiling knowing how scary that must have been for Oliver to say, considering what happened last time. But this is different, and when Oliver steps forward to place his gentle hands on the sides of her face, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers, she knows. 

“Felicity.”  

He says her name as a whispered prayer, desperate for her to understand all he wants to convey. Closing her eyes, Felicity let’s Oliver’s magnetic touch course through her veins, giving her the type of sustenance she’s craved her whole life. She feels his thumbs running back and forth against her jawline, simultaneously calming and electrifying her. It’s deliciously toxic and she wants this feeling to last a lifetime. 

“Are you going to kiss me or what?"

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Oliver leans down to kiss her as Felicity meets him in the middle, melting into him as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. She likes this, being smothered by him—it makes her feel soft, calm and cherished. A smile creeps forward on her lips and she kisses him back, unashamed at how much she wants this. Him. Her Oliver. 

It’s going to take some adjustments. They’ll have to figure out how their professional relationship will mesh with their personal one, and Felicity will have to get used to the constant media attention. Oliver’s world is so different from her own, but she hopes they’ll be able to navigate this new territory together and drown out the noise. And she’s willing to try and give it her all. 

Oliver saw the worst parts of her, and her of him, but didn’t let that change how he felt about her. 

Not many people get to touch your life in the way Oliver has. Felicity thinks back to when she first met him to the person standing in front of her now, and she wouldn’t change any of it. Every struggle, every blow to her pride, every day it took to piece herself back together was worth it. 

As their touches become surer and laced with a promise of something more, Felicity knows out in the unknown sea with Oliver by her side, that this is the beginning of something beautiful. And she’ll grab onto it with both hands, tight, with the intention of never letting go.