Chapter Text
Felicity Smoak was an ordinary woman with an extraordinary talent. She was the best investigative writer at the Starling City Pulse, all thanks to her degree in Computer Science. Well, at least that's what she liked to think. Her boss Sebastian Blood had noticed her talent but as of yet had done nothing to let her prove her worth. If she'd anticipated how competitive working for a magazine company would be she might have gone a different direction with her career. Felicity tossed that thought aside as soon as it at blossomed. Though she could rock binary code like nobodies business it was journalism that was her first love, it was ingrained in her just as much as her need to find the truth to every story.
That's why on a cold morning in Mid-December she sat flipping through a file at her usual table at a cafe within walking distance from the Starling Pulse. After a few cursory glances at the information laid out in fine print, she set it aside in favor of reading thumbing through her pile of unread mail. One particular envelope caught her eye and she plucked it from the stack, her burgundy painted nails standing out against the creamy white of the paper. Slipping a finger under the flap she pulled out a card, elegant script danced across the page announcing the impending nuptials of her best friend Lyla Michael's and John Diggle. A smile bloomed on her face at the thought of the couple that was very much ready to be man and wife, so much so they had planned it for just before Christmas which was only a few short weeks away.
A blast of cold old blew through the cafe causing her mop of blonde hair to fall into her face and remaining mail to flutter across the table. Pushing the errant curls behind her ear she hurried to right the papers, gathering them all up to shove back into her briefcase.
“Felicity Smoak?” The barista called, reminding her of the order she'd placed earlier. Her patterned skirt flared around her knees as she rose from her seat, wine colored heels clicking against the floor as she made her way to the counter. “One coffee black with extra sugar and a gluten-free blueberry bagel.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, the young man behind the counter returning the favor as he extended her cup and a brown paper bag, with the words 'Happy Holidays' written in emerald green on the side to her only for it to be immediately snatched out of her hands. The noise of disapproval was quick to leave her mouth as she turned to see who had snatched her food.
“No, thank you,” rang a familiar male voice that had her rolling her eyes.
“Ray that's my breakfast,” she protested.
“Really? How about dinner?”
“For the last time... no.”
“Well maybe this will change your mind...” he trailed off as he pulled out a yellow envelope from his jacket.
Her mouth parted. “You got the pictures?”
“Don't sound so surprised. Sneaky is my middle name.” More like creepy. A laugh threatened to escape and she covered it with a cough.
“So what are they gonna cost me?”
“Oh these are free,” he said with grin handing them to her, Felicity eyed them dubiously before taking them. He pulled another envelope from his messenger bag. “It these that are gonna cost you.”
“How much?” She asked, crossing her arms.
“One date.”
“Do you not know what the word no means?”
“Come on Lis-”
“Don't call me that.”
He continued as if she hadn't spoken. “-these are really good photos.”
She held out her hand. “Let me be the judge of that.”
Felicity examined them for a moment, her head tilting to the side before slipping them back into the envelope and holding them close to her chest. “Are you absolutely sure that this is Mayor Wilson?”
“Yep,” he said popping the P, a smirk appearing on his face.
“Wow.” Heat worked it's way up her neck.
“Uh-huh, imagine how I felt working the zoom lens on those.”
“Who would've thought,” she said more to herself than Ray.
“You gotta admit though, he was always kinda shifty.”
“I never took him for one to cheat on his wife though.”
“He's a brave man that's for sure. Have you seen Isabel in person? She seems like the type to cut off your-”
“Okay-” Felicity shoved the pictures into Ray's chest. “Thanks but no thanks. I'm not really into the celebrity gossip scene.”
“Your loss. You know if you're ever going to hit it big time you've gotta stop doing small time work.” Ray took a sip of her coffee and made a face. “How do you drink this?”
“Order your own next time if you don't like it.” They stopped by her table and she collected her bag. Blue flashed in front of her as she bent over and quickly glanced up. “What's up with the sneakers?”
“I'm usually either running to or away from someone so I had to be innovative.”
“The life of a paparazzi photographer,” she laughed as they exited the building into the crisp air.
Ray bit into her bagel as they walked, his phone chiming just as they reached their building. He slipped it out of his pocket, whatever he saw made him perk up and he swallowed hard, his head giving a little shake. “Gotta go, Isabel just found out,” he informed her throwing the coffee cup and bag in the garbage can. “At a public meeting of all places.”
“Well....good luck.” He smiled before taking off down the sidewalk. “Oh and thanks for the pictures.”
“Anytime,” he called over his shoulder. “Just as long as you don't order gluten-free anything anymore.”
When he was out of sight she ducked into the nearest alcove and opened the sealed envelope, bringing out the high-resolution photos, the drug dealer known as The Count's face clearly seen.
“Gotcha.”
“Was that your stomach?” Lyla asked as they entered the bridal shop later that afternoon during her lunch break. Her friend had wanted her to tag along and offer commentary on the dress that she'd had altered.
“I had an a...unfortunate incident this morning. My breakfast got kidnapped.”
“Again?”
“I swear Ray Palmer just exist to get on my nerves.”
“He is kinda cute though. Are you sure you don't just have some angsty feelings bubbling under all that disdain?”
“Lyla, remember who your Maid Of Honor is.” The woman pressed her lips together to hide her smile. Felicity knew she was just teasing but it still drove her mad. She hadn't dated anyone since Cooper and she was going to keep it that way, having already had her fair share of irritating men. “You know all I'm interested in at the moment is doing my job.”
“And that would be fine...if that wasn't all you did Felicity. You've gotta live. How do you expect to meet someone if all you do is hide your face behind a computer screen?”
“If I'm meant to be with someone then they'll find me in my little cubicle.”
“I wouldn't take the whole fate thing literally.”
“Can we stop talking about my love life...or lack thereof?” She gestured to the rows of dresses in the boutique. “We're here for your love life.”
Lyla sighed. “I'll let it go, but not for long. Sara needs a playmate close to her age.”
“Just go,” she pushed her towards the fitting room.
A few moments later Lyla came out. Felicity tried and failed to control her expression at the sight of the dress as she came to stand in front of the one eighty degree mirror.
“Dear Google,” she whispered while taking in the dress, the sleeve were so puffy she didn't know if Lyla would be able to fit through the church doors, and the skirt looked as though it belonged on a plantation in the south.
“It's awful isn't it?”
“No,” she denied but her voice came out squeaky. After clearing it she tried again. “No, it looks beautiful.”
Lyla glared at her. “Felicity Smoak, you're a horrible liar.” Picking up the skirt she deflated into a chair. “It's my Mother's, she wants me to wear it. How can I say no to the woman who gave me life?”
Felicity came up alongside her friend. “This is going to be your day Lyla, sure your Mom is important too but when you look back do you really want to be unhappy? Oh gosh, just think about the pictures.”
They both broke out in laughter, the attendants sending them concerned glances. The laughter lasted up until the bell tinkled over the door and a cry punctuated by sniffles echoed in the room.
“Oh, my! It's like looking at myself forty years ago. Dear, you're breathtaking,” Milly Michaels exclaimed in her nasal voice.
Lyla's eyes went wide and she glanced furtively at her. “Crap.”
After a half an hour of the woman preening over her daughter, she finally left them, both exhaling and once again dropping into a chair. "Well that was exhausting," Lyla huffed, fiddling with the skirt of her gown. "I thought I was gonna have to- what's that?"
"What?" Felicity asked, sitting forward in her own seat, looking to where Lyla was staring.
"Is that a smudge?" Lyla pointed a blue polished nail at a spot on her dress.
"Where?"
"Right there! Oh my gosh, it's a stain. What-"
Felicity jumped up, putter her hands out. "Don't freak out."
"Don't freak out? Don't freak out?" She parroted incredulously. "Three generations of Michaels have worn this dress without staining it. What will Gammy think?" Lyla ran a hand through her hair, the brown locks frizzing out at the action. Felicity had to do something and do something fast or she was going to have an all-out Bridezilla freak out on her hands, which she didn't have time for considering she only had a one-hour lunch break.
"It's not that big." That was a bit of a fib. She looked closer. "Is that wine?
"Are you kidding me?" Lyla pulled the fabric closer to her face. "How did it even get there. I haven't even had...oh wait...I did have some. It was John and I's anniversary and I got-"
Felicity violently waved her hands. "No, no, no. Nope. If this is some kind of story about you and John's sexy times I would very much like to never, ever hear about it. The man is practically my brother."
Lyla winced. "Sorry. What are we going to do?"
She thought for a moment, chewing on her lip. "Lyla, do you trust me?"
The woman sighed. "Felicity, what kind of question is that? Of course."
"Well then trust me when I say I can fix this."
"How?"
Felicity glanced at the stain. "I've got this okay."
"Fine, okay."
"Give me the dress." A nightmare of one actually.
It took a while and the use of her skills of convincing but she was finally able to get somewhere. The shop agreed to attempt getting the stain out, at Felicity's risk. She'd made a promise to her best friend. She really hoped she could deliver.
“I love you.” Felicity stopped at her words, a fry dangling from her fingers. “I'm not making a pass at you...you're my assistant and I don't like you that way. I mean if we were a really cliché fan-fiction we could be a thing. You're certainly handsome enough. Has anyone ever told you that you'd be a great model-”
“Just eat your fries blondie,” Roy interrupted her babble. He'd had a lot of practice over the past three years.
“Thank you,” she sighed in relief, plopping down in her desk chair and popping another fry in her mouth. Her stomach finally feeling a little less empty. Roy sat across from her in his own chair and began to relay her messages from the day. “Go back.”
“Chris Helmer?”
“No the one before that.”
“Curtis Holt?”
“Yes, what did he say?”
“Mr. Holt said he had information regarding the new merger between Queen Consolidated and Wayne Tech.”
“Oh good, actually something I can report. Today's kinda been slow.”
“You shouldn't have said that.”
“Why?”
“Smoak, Seldon!” Sebastian's voice bellowed through the room. “My office pronto.”
“That's why.”
Felicity groaned loudly, fingers beating against her desk, her eyes closing before snapping open again. “Wait, did he say Seldon?” Roy nodded slowly. “I didn't know he was back from Prague.”
“Apparently yesterday.”
“Smoak!” Blood yelled again.
“The king bellows, you better get moving.” With a quiet moan, she got up, the bag of fries in her hand. “You're not taking those with you?”
“It's too early for alcohol, fries are what's going to get me through this.”
“Mint Chip would work better.”
“Make it happen and you can have off early.” The man shot out his chair faster than an arrow making her shake her head as she headed toward her boss's office.
“What do you mean Patty quit?” Felicity erupted, more surprised than anything. The woman was a machine and she couldn't see her quitting.
“She took a job at the Central City Centennial, they gave her a better offer,” Sebastian answered.
“Okay, what does that mean?” She hedged.
“It means there's a job opening,” Cooper interjected.
Felicity's head whipped around. “Is that true?”
“Mr. Seldon's right.”
Her breath caught. To have that job would mean controlling her own department, her own stories, having freedoms that she could only imagine before. Not to mention a pay raise that could get her out of close proximity to the Glades. She needed-no she wanted that job.
“Patty was also going to help us make the switch to full digital.”
“You mean everything would be online? No more paper magazines?”
“Have you ever had to fight against one of those Eco groups? Yeah, we're going full green. Now the question is how to do that.”
“I think I have a story that would be a great opener.”
Sebastian leaned back in his seat. “Keep talking.”
“Well you see I've been working with a photographer and we managed to discover the identity of the drug dealer haunting the Glades-”
He waved his hand. “Say no more. I admire your work Smoak I really do, but that's not what the people want to see when they boot up their tablets in the morning. Do you know what people like? Gossip. So that's what we're going to give them.”
Cooper grinned, his knee bouncing with energy. He'd been strangely silent through the exchange, almost like he knew ahead of time what was going to be said.
“But Sir, don't the people deserve to know what's really going on in the city?”
“Ms. Smoak, the Pulse was once all about real news, but that was years ago. News doesn't sell anymore. We leave that to channel fifty-two. If this magazine doesn't sell then we're all out of jobs.”
Felicity sunk back into her chair, her breath whooshing out.
“We need a story for the digital launch, so let's talk Queen's.”
“Queen's?” Cooper said with a shake of his head.
“West Coast Kennedy's.” Felicity tossed his way. “Robert Queen was going to run for Mayor-”
“But then he died on a yacht before his plans got off the ground,” Cooper finished. “Yeah, I know.”
“His widow Moira Queen-”
“Who's big into philanthropy-”
“Children's Hospital, Red Cross-”
“-Has two children.-”
“Oliver and Thea.”
“Mostly gossip the past few years has been about Thea, after her Dad's death she went a little wild.”
“Oliver's been quiet since his twenty-fifth birthday except for the breakup with socialite Laurel Lance over a year ago.”
“But no one really knows what happened between them,” Cooper added.
“Oh please, Oliver was a playboy. He probably wanted to play the field and she got in the way.”
“Ouch. You know for someone who doesn't like gossip you're pretty harsh.”
“Says you. How many girls did you cheat on me with?” Cooper's lips pressed together tightly.
“Alright, you two. That aside, the Queen's are going to be at their Mountain Estate with Merlyn this weekend. Rumor has it one of the heirs have bought an engagement ring.”
“Well it has to be Oliver, Tommy Merlyn hasn't had the same girlfriend for more than a few weeks at a time.”
“Then who's the woman?”
“That's what I want you to find out, and anything else along the way.”
“Who to find out?” Felicity and Cooper asked in synchronization.
“Whoever gets there first.” Sebastian grinned slyly as he tilted back in his chair.
“That sounds like a challenge.” Which was something she was good at, but not particularly fond of, in this context anyway.
“It is. You two are my best reporters,” Sebastian sat forward, his hands resting on the desk. “Whoever gets the story...gets the job.”