Chapter Text
Incompatible
Clothes, everywhere. A tight red mini skirt, clearly not his, made his nightstand lamp lean against the wall. A white crop top lay on the floor by the door, a pair of black underwear sat next to his shoes by the bed, and a matching black bra rested by a photo frame on his desk. He took the bra and put it on the bed, making sure the photo wasn’t damaged. He studied the picture, as he had hundreds of times before. It was him and his father, Robert Queen, just about to set out on a yacht trip five years ago. Just after the picture was taken, they had a falling out, and Oliver stormed off and never went on the trip. The yacht never came back, and neither did any of the people on it, including his father.
Oliver Queen went over to his wardrobe and picked out his outfit for the day. He glanced over at the sleeping woman in his bed, Carolyn. They always looked so peaceful when they were sleeping. Or was it Tiffany? It didn’t matter; he wouldn’t see her again anyway. He never did. He picked a silky white shirt, with a tailored black cashmere jacket, and a pair of dark charcoal trousers. He saw his collection of ties in the wardrobe and thanked his lucky stars that he was influential enough that he didn’t need to wear those anymore. When buttoning his shirt, he left the top few unbuttoned, both to breathe easier and to look sharper.
He left the woman—Stephanie, maybe—where she was and made his way to the office, trusting that the housekeeper would get rid of her before he was back home that night. His chauffeur was waiting for him out front, ready to hold the door open.
The office was a majestic building, the centerpiece of the business district, with giant letters spelling Queen Consolidated. They were the biggest employer in town, with thousands of people working from nine to five, and a whole lot of people working during the night shift too. The inside was just as majestic, with state-of-the-art glass elevators against the back wall and stairs along the sides.
A couple of unfit guards behind a counter noticed him coming in and immediately sat up straighter and plastered on fake smiles. “Good morning, Mr. Queen, sir.” They unlocked the gates for him without requesting an ID. Oliver nodded to them and headed into the elevator. At that time of day, 10:45, most people were already there, already working, so the elevator was refreshingly empty. He enjoyed the silence, compared to when he was on time and had to smile and make small talk with all the employees. He got out on the nineteenth floor and walked straight to his office as fast as he could.
“Mr. Queen! Sir!” he heard behind him. “Please, sir, it’s urgent.”
Oliver stopped just a few feet away from his office doors and turned around to look at his secretary. “How urgent?”
“I’ve been trying to reach you for hours, sir.”
The rest of the day continued in the same fashion, with one urgent thing after another.
After a long day of boring office work, Oliver wanted the day to end so he could go have some fun. Somewhere. With someone. Preferably a hot woman.
He had one last email to send, and then he would be free to go. Suddenly, a warning popped up on the computer: "Suspected unauthorized activity". Typical—just when he was about to leave for the day. He told his secretary to get IT in there. Bob should be able to fix it quickly, he usually did.
A few minutes later, it wasn’t Bob coming through the door. It was a woman. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and her eyes hid behind thick-rimmed glasses. She wore a colorful blouse and a tight pencil skirt, mixing a professional confidence with the nervousness of a new hire. She wasn’t hot, but… cute.
Oliver raised his eyebrows. “Where’s Bob?”
“I’m the new Bob,” she blurted, then rambled at high speed. “Not that I’m actually Bob, clearly I’m a completely different person. I’ll just… I'll handle Bob’s responsibilities from now on.” She squirmed. “I’m Felicity.”
Oliver smiled. This new Bob was fun.
He explained the computer issue to her, and she sat down to work on it while he leaned on the desk, observing her. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and her eyes flickered across the screen. There was something charming about the way her brow furrowed in concentration. It reminded him of the intense focus his ex used to have when she was in college. It was nothing like the women he had been spending his time with lately.
Whatever Felicity was doing, it seemed effortless to her. Oliver wanted to break the silence. “Bob always used to plug in some USB device when he was here. Are you sure you’re doing this right?”
Felicity answered without stopping and without looking up. “I’m sure Bob’s methods worked just fine last decade, but it’s 2012 now and we have Wi-Fi. You do know what Wi-Fi is, right?”
“Of course I do, it’s the internet.”
She smirked. “Oh, it’s so much more than just the internet.”
Oliver moved in closer. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me more about it over a glass of wine at my place?”
She stopped working and leaned back. “Wh-why would we do that?”
“You seem intelligent. I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“Oh.” Her eyes opened wide when she realized what he was implying. “Oh! No offence, Mr Queen, but I don’t even know you. Oh, I said ‘no offence,’ didn’t I? Most people actually do mean offence when they say that, but I didn’t. Can’t go around offending the boss now, can I?” She laughed, then swallowed hard and stared at the floor. “I’ll stop talking now.”
He observed her, his mouth curved with amusement. “Right.”
Felicity finished up quickly on the computer and stood up. “All done.”
“So my driver will pick you up at 7.”
“No!” she said harshly. “I mean, no thank you. I’m gonna… I’m gonna go.” She backed away, pointing with a thumb toward the door. “Do some IT. At the IT department, where I work.” She rolled her eyes and mumbled the rest. “Which you already know, because you’re my… boss. Bye.”
And with that, she was gone. Oliver grinned. She was much more fun than Bob.
At 7 PM that evening, he sat in the back of his car, waiting while his driver went to knock on Felicity’s door. He usually trusted the driver to pick up his women without him, but this time was different. Her “no” from before echoed in his mind. He felt his confidence waver and took a deep breath. He was handsome, charming, and filthy rich; she would change her mind for sure.
The driver came back to the car. “I’m sorry, sir, she doesn’t want to come out.”
“Is that so?” Oliver smirked. He was actually glad for it—it made things more interesting.
Oliver went to Felicity’s door, knocked, and then shouted through it. “Miss Smoak, the night’s not getting any younger.”
He heard her faint voice through the closed door. “Mr Queen! You’re here! At my house! You can’t be here!”
“Could you please open the door?”
“No! I told you, I’m really not comfortable having a glass of wine with you. Not because I don’t like wine, or you. I actually happen to love a good wine. But-but not you! Loving you would be weird, because you’re my boss. Although I’m sure you’re very lovable!” He heard something scrape against the door, as if she melted from the embarrassment.
“I came all this way for you. Are you serious?” How was he supposed to charm her if she wouldn’t even look at him?
“Could you please just go?” she whimpered.
Oliver scoffed. Bewildered. Unbelievable. This wasn’t fun anymore. The rejection hurt deeper than he expected. He didn’t know why this had become so important to him, and he didn’t take the time to dwell on it either.
He got back into the car, alone. “To the club,” he told the driver. The club was a safe place where feelings never lingered, where the alcohol and the loud music made everything else feel distant.
The club was filled with bodies and noise. Oliver went to the bar with the intention of getting really drunk.
“Ollie!” his best friend shouted from behind him.
“Tommy!” Oliver raised his glass and shouted back.
Tommy observed him. “You look like you lost a bet or something.”
Oliver took a drink. “Yeah, or something.”
“This just won’t do. Nothing gets my Ollie down! Bartender, we need the special today.”
The bartender nodded and left.
Oliver winced. “I still have to work tomorrow, you know.”
Tommy waved his arms. “Work, work, work. Forget about work. Tonight is all about fun.”
Oliver tried not to think about work. He tried not to think about Miss Smoak. She wasn’t even all that special, why did her rejection get to him this bad? He could have any woman in the world, except for her. That ought to be plenty enough, right?
A few days went by and life went on as usual. A new tech issue came up, and when the secretary called for IT, Oliver braced himself to meet the stubborn woman again. But she didn’t come. Someone else came instead. He was oddly disappointed.
Then there was another tech issue, and when the secretary asked if she should call for IT again, Oliver said he’d take care of it himself. He took the elevator down to the IT floor.
He had never been there before, and everybody stared at him. He looked for her among all the desks, but she wasn’t there. Had she quit?
“Mr Queen!” she said from behind him. He turned around and saw her, mouth wide open, standing in the doorway to a private office. He noticed that the sign on the door said the office was hers. He hadn’t really given it much thought, but it surprised him that she had a private office. “What are you doing here?” she blurted out. “I mean, on this floor. It’s your building so obviously you can go wherever you want.” She adjusted her glasses. “Can I… can I help you?”
They went into her office. Oliver put his laptop on her desk and explained what the issue was about.
While she was working on the tech issue, he studied her decor.
“So you went to M.I.T.”
Her lips tightened. “Yes I did.”
He saw a framed news article in her bookshelf. “Wait, you won that award? I heard about that. It was quite impressive.”
“Mmhm.”
There was a pile of magazines on her desk. “And you're into inventions. What are you doing here just fixing computers all day?”
She took her hands off the keyboard and glared at him. “Are you done prying about my life?”
Her angry eyes were intimidating. He leaned away from her. “Mmhm.”
“Thank you.” She went back to work.
Some days later, Oliver was heading back to the office when he saw Felicity in the lobby. She headed out without seeing him. Without really knowing why, he decided to see where she was going. He knew she didn’t want anything to do with him, so he stayed far enough away that she wouldn’t notice him.
She stopped at a food truck to buy lunch. Oliver pretended to look into a shop window. Felicity glanced his way, and he knew he’d been made, but she turned around and took her lunch with her. He knew he should probably have gone back to the office, but his curiosity got the better of him. He tried to hide better as he followed her down the street. She took a big bite out of her food and glanced his way again, but this time he wasn’t sure that she actually saw him. She didn’t say anything, so he assumed he had gotten away with it. They continued down the street as she kept eating her lunch, and she finished by a newsstand. She bought a magazine and turned back toward the office. Oliver panicked. He hadn’t really thought this through and found no place to hide before she could see him.
“Are you stalking me?!” she said angrily.
Oliver felt stupid. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. His face turned into an embarrassed grin. “Maybe?”
Felicity glared at him. “This is beyond creepy. Stay. Away. From me!”
He decided then and there to be done with Felicity Smoak.