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The only time she’d seen mistletoe was one evening when she was twelve. Her mother had excitedly tied it above their front door -ignoring that it was more a Christmas tradition- and semi patiently waited for her current beau to stop by. Felicity had watched her mother in confused amusement. She couldn’t quite understand what was so romantic about it. In the arid Nevada winter, the green mass held more resemblance to rotten spinach than it did to the brightly colored paintings that made an appearance on shop windows during the holidays.
If she never saw real mistletoe again in her life she wouldn’t have cared, however, now it seemed to be everywhere and it was testing her nerves. She understood that Oliver Queen came from money, but with the loss of Queen Consolidated just months ago and his living in the foundry, it was difficult to understand why he’d spend whatever he had on a poisonous green plant of all things.
It started on the first of December and, as he had been for the past week, Oliver had knocked on her townhouse door at 7:30 AM, cup of steaming coffee in his hand and offering her a ride to work. He was “wooing” her, she knew, a term Diggle had used to describe Oliver’s antics as he desperately tried to prove that this whole “maybes” business was done with. Felicity had noticed the sprig of green hanging from the inside of her door and took mere seconds to recognize what it was. Balling it in her fist, she’d quickly tossed it on a table near the door and made a note to make all entrances to her home Arrow proof. With reddened cheeks and blonde bed head galore, she’d calmly answered the door, trying but failing not to look at the vacant spot above her. He’d looked up too and then down, his eyes meeting hers, amusement mixed with disappointment in his blue eyes.
“Coffee?” he’d said and was noticeably preoccupied with her door as he waited for her to get ready to leave.
“Looking for something?” she’d said slyly.
“Nope.” he blatantly lied.
On the twelfth, she had asked for the day off from work and spent her day playing with the computer system in the foundry. She’d talked with Caitlin and Cisco about improvements to their separate set ups and even caught a glimpse of Barry before he was off after another meta human. It was nearing the evening when the familiar sound of shoes clanging on stairs came to her ears, turning her away from her monitors. Roy hurried down the steps, red hood hiding his hair and a look of shock in his eyes.
“Roy? Are you okay?” she’d questioned. He shook his head.
“Oliver tried to get me under the mistletoe.” he said hurriedly.
And she burst into the laughter.
“What?!” she giggled.
“I’m serious. Go look.” He said as he gestured up the stairs.
Felicity chose to humor him as she made her way up into Verdant, hiding around a corner and sure enough she could make out the plant tied above the entrance, a not so inconspicuous Oliver hovering nearby.
“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he’s after someone else.” she told with a small smile.
“Thank God.” Roy mumbled and she faintly heard something about Thea Queen as he walked back to the stairs. Oliver seemed to catch her in his peripheral vision and she quickly followed Roy back down.
By the 22nd, Oliver had placed mistletoe above her door five times and twice at Verdant’s entrance. She had leaned back in her chair at the foundry to find the telltale glint of florescent light on an arrowhead stuck to the ceiling, engulfed in green. Felicity went still and began to quietly take stock of her surroundings. Everything was silent besides the hum of her computers and she swiveled her chair around to find green leather taking up her vision. She let out a surprised scream.
“Dammit, Oliver!” she chastised as she looked to his handsome and slightly smug face.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned.
“You usually announce yourself.”
Felicity turned back to her monitors, momentarily forgetting her predicament, and Oliver focused his attention to the ceiling. Curious about his silence, she’d followed his gaze upwards.
“Crap.”
He sighed and leaned against her desk, his shampoo wafting close to her.
“You don’t have to.” He explained. “I was just having a little fun with you.”
He smiled genuinely and sweetly as he brushed a leaf that had fallen in her hair. She hadn’t noticed it.
Felicity sighed too, exasperated. He was practically pouting.
“This is all you get, Oliver Queen.” she said as she attempted to compose herself, a blush blooming across her face.
His skin was soft, but the unshaven stubble tickled her lips as she pressed them to his cheek. As she pulled away, their noses grazed and her lips met his, chastely. By the time she knew what she was doing, Oliver has begun to weave his fingers through her hair. With a jolt, she pulled away with her face red with embarrassment. She sprung from her chair and crossed the foundry, Oliver’s laughter filling her ears along with the pounding of her heart.
Nope. Felicity Smoak never wanted to see a mistletoe ever again.