Chapter Text
Felicity winced, jerking back against the hard wood of the chair as the bag was whipped from her head violently. She reeled back and screwed her eyes shut against the blinding blue light that was suddenly assaulting her senses. A harsh voice barked something to her left, before a sharp tug on her hair wrenched her head back to slam against the chair, forcing her eyes open. She blinked, allowing the scene before her to adjust to her vision. The figures of two men swam into focus. One of them, a tall, imposing man with arms the size of tree trunks, shot forwards, grabbing the hand holding her hair and twisting. She heard a yelp and a thunk, and assumed it to be Sir Grabsalot falling to his knees, releasing her hair.
“She was ordered not to be hurt,” the other man growled, looming over Grabsalot, whom she could now see to be a younger man, wearing a red hoodie, and with a jawline that could cut glass. Felicity strained against the bonds holding her wrist and fought to remain calm, despite the fact that she was pretty damn sure she was a dead woman. Why else would the men have let her see their faces, if not if they were going to kill her? Felicity opened her mouth, then hesitated, her gaze flicking between the two men and alighting on the blurred expanse of the room. From what she could see with her limited eyesight, it was some kind of underground basement, lit by an expanse of blue, flickering lights, which cut across the figures of the two men, forming jagged shadows across harsh brows and dark eyes. Felicity shivered.
“What do you want?” It came out as a whisper, nowhere near as strong as she would have liked, but it had the two halting in their movements. The taller man, whom Felicity had now dubbed, “Muscles,” because well..yeah, turned to give her a curious look. “If this is about the pen I stole a couple weeks ago, I swear I didn’t know it was in my pocket. I’m not some pen-stealing criminal person, I mean, there was this one period in college where I may have created a super virus, but I never used it on anybody! I mean, my boyfriend did - well..ex boyfriend I suppose. Wait, you’re not recording this are you? I didn-”
“Miss Smoak,” Muscles interrupted, and Felicity’s mouth snapped shut with a click, “we’re not the police.” Felicity snorted,
“Right, yeah, should have guessed from the whole bag-on-head, chair-tying shenanigans. Not exactly cop-like behaviour, although with the current SCPD who knows?” Muscles folded his arms and tucked his chin to his chest. Was she hallucinating, or was he hiding a smile?
“You’re here, Miss Smoak, because our boss has need of your special skills.”
“Sounds dodgy,” Felicity retorted, then pressed her lips together, trying to prevent more words from spilling out. She would not make a fool of herself in front of these men. She was Felicity Smoak, strong, independent, confident IT girl, Felicity Smoak, who sure as hell wouldn’t let these jumped up mobsters get the better of her. She was cool, collected, in control. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Your boss, who is he?” She winced, “Or she, I mean, it could be a she, it’s perfectly reasonable for them to be a she, I just assumed he had man parts. Or she..uh..they..had..” An inward groan echoed inside her head. Good one, Smoak, real Jolie-esque. Thankfully, Muscles seemed to ignore her ramble, instead motioning towards his red hooded companion with a jerk of his chin. The younger man slid a hand into his jacket, reaching for some kind of inner pocket, a holster? Felicity flinched back, a small whimper escaping her lips. They were going to kill her. She felt the beat of her heart begin to thrum in her ears, a furious rhythm to match the rapid staccato of her breath. Not like this. A high pitched ringing began to sear through her brain, her thoughts beginning to turn foggy as she watched the man pull something black from his pocket, raising it up to-
Speak into it?
Felicity frowned and squinted, as Grabsalot muttered something into the object. His voice was low and gutteral, his words harsh. Each vowel rolled from his tongue fluidly, then cut short as his teeth clamped down on every clipped consonant. It seemed to be Russian, but of course, Felicity’s MIT major had been, hint, not languages. He finished speaking, and the sound of his voice was chased by the frenzied buzzing of static. Not a gun, a radio. Felicity’s thoughts were cut short, as the door suddenly flew open to slam against the wall with a sharp crack. Her head flew up, and she watched as a dark figure moved to enter the room, his face cast in shadow by the jagged light above. As he moved closer, blurred shapes began to realign, revealing stubbled cheeks, framing an angular jaw and striking blue eyes, the likes of which she hadn’t seen since...no. Felicity’s heart pounded as she took in his sandy hair, now cropped short, unlike the first time. He was taller, leaner, harder, changed, except for his eyes; she could never forget those eyes. Muscles moved to stand next to him, his eyes flicking between the two,
“Miss Smoak, I’d like to introduce you to our Captain-”
“Oliver Queen,” she breathed. Oliver took a final step forwards. His lips twitched up into a barbed smirk, but his eyes remained cold as he uttered,
“Hello again, Smoak.”
[7 years ago]
“Hey, Smoak!”
Felicity stumbled to a halt at the sound of her name, much to the ire of the several students behind her. She heard fleeted mutterings about crowded hallways, before they pushed past, the bag of one of the students clipping her shoulder, and sending the pile of books clutched in her hands tumbling to the floor.
“Frack,” Felicity muttered, dropping to her knees and scrabbling to pick up the worn manuals. She was so engrossed in the process, that she hardly noticed a pair of jean clad legs kneeling beside her. That was, until a calloused hand settled over her own, jolting her from her thoughts. Felicity let out a muffled squeak, as her gaze darted up to reveal the handsome face of one Oliver Queen. Double frack.
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he murmured, his lips sliding into a lopsided grin, which.. wow..was totally unfair. Felicity looked like a startled deer, crouched on the floor as she was, eyes wide in shock at the face before her. She abruptly realized she was staring and shook herself,
“Oh, no, it’s my fault for being such a clutz, I mean, it’s kinda your fault, but I have the grace of an inebriated hedgehog..which I just realized is a really weird image, I’m sorry, I’m babbling, it’s just really hard to concentrate when you’re doing that with your face.” His smile widened into an all out grin,
“My face?” His blue eyes danced with mirth, and Felicity flushed beet red. She hurried to collect the rest of her books, but her attempt to escape was thwarted when a strong arm scooped the books from her grasp.
“Here, let me carry these, I think they’re safer with me. You’re going to English, right?”
“Right.” Felicity gulped, getting to her feet to walk alongside Oliver, as they moved through the now empty hallway. “So, why did you call my name?” She mumbled, hesitant to meet his eyes, lest she start rambling again. Why did he have to be so damn pretty?
“Oh right, that.” Oliver paused and raked a hand through his hair, looking suddenly uncertain. He shifted from foot to foot and rubbed the back of his neck, giving her a sheepish smile, “Well, see, I’ve been having some trouble in math, a lot of trouble actually, and I heard that you were the person to come and see.”
Felicity frowned, tilting her head to the side,
“Come and see?” She repeated, raising an eyebrow. Oliver huffed and moved closer, his eyes darting from corner to corner as he almost whispered,
“For..you know, tutoring.” Felicity burst out laughing.
“You want me to tutor you?” She questioned through fits of giggles, which she quickly stifled with her hand as she took in the hurt expression on Oliver’s face.
“Why not?”
Felicity tried to school her expression, but couldn’t help the incredulous look that had her eyebrows hiked and her head cocked.
“Well, because I’m Felicity Smoak, IT nerd and you’re well...you.” She gestured vaguely in his direction, hands flailing.
“I’m not seeing the problem here.” Oliver deadpanned. Felicity sighed,
“Do you really want your jock friends to see you hanging around with someone like me?”
Oliver’s jaw locked, his eyes flashing angrily,
“If by ‘someone like you’, you mean a smart, beautiful girl who could probably melt my computer with two minutes of WiFi and a brick phone, then that’s exactly what I want.” He folded his arms over the books he still carried, and gave her a stubborn look, his bright azure eyes boring into her own with a fierce intensity. Felicity felt a blush rising from her neck and broke his gaze, fighting to maintain her composure. After a few seconds, she muttered,
“Thirty seconds.”
“What?” Oliver’s brows knitted in confusion.
Felicity’s head raised, her lips curving into a playful smirk, “Thirty seconds; that’s how long it would take me to melt your computer.” She shrugged, “FYI.” Oliver grinned,
“Does that mean you’ll do it?” Felicity smile widened at the hopeful tinge to his voice, whilst the butterflies in her stomach jumped, (or well, flapped,) to attention. She stepped forwards and slid the books from his grasp, finally replying,
“You’re going to be seeing a lot more of me, Queen.”
[7 years later]
“Does that mean you’ll do it?” His voice was ice, smooth, yet beneath lay an untold danger that sent a shiver down her spine. Felicity grit her teeth, eyeing the man before her in all his looming glory.
“Do I have a choice?” She ground out, and watched his lips twitch upwards, revealing a flash of teeth. It didn’t seem like a smile.
“No.” He replied. Familiar blue eyes bored into her own, unflinching, cold.
“Well than I guess you and I are going to be seeing a lot more of each other, Captain Queen.”