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"Yes, Mom, I'm sure that Hanukkah starts Sunday night," Felicity Smoak assured her mother. "…No, I know the calendar says that Monday is the first DAY. That means that Sunday is the first NIGHT, remember? ... No, don't ask Google. We discussed this, remember? Gemini lies to you. AI makes up an answer, any answer, just to give you a response to whatever you ask. That's why you need to check the source. Remember how Gemini made up a cruise between Star City and Europe when you asked Google to find you one? ... No, don’t invest in AI… Because no one knows when the AI bubble is going to burst. You remember the dot com bubble? …
"Yes, I will bring you Hanukkah candles... Yes, I will come over Sunday so that we can light them together… No, I'm not going to promise to never light the candles when I'm alone..."
“Felicity, you have to promise me,” her mother insisted over the phone. “It’s very dangerous.”
“I can’t promise that, Mom.”
“Why not?”
Because you're not always going to be there, Felicity bit her lip to keep the words back. She didn’t want to think about that, let alone bring it up. But she wasn’t planning to give up the tradition when her mother was gone, and she didn’t want to make her mother a promise she wasn’t going to keep.
"I'm an adult, Mom," she said aloud instead. "I'll be careful... Yes, I have heard the horror stories about fires--"
"Sir! You can't go in there!" Felicity heard her receptionist's voice shout, before her office door banged open.
"Madame Vice President," Captain Quentin Lance greeted her, as the call with her mother dropped.
"You!" Felicity glared at the member of Star City Police Department’s Finest as she got to her feet.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Smoak, I tried to stop him, ma'am," her receptionist apologized, following Lance into Felicity’s office.
"That's not your fault, Jen. You can go."
"Is now a bad time?" Quentin asked, as he dropped into a visitor’s chair.
"You get out of my office before you hex my electronics!" Felicity hissed.
"I would never hex your electronics," Quentin proclaimed.
"I know it was you that fried them before, you-- you Wizard!"
"Fine, I would never do it on purpose," Quentin amended. "And I've gotten better about controlling it. Honest. Though, uh, you might want to power your devices down to be safe. And maybe unplug them. And… look, I won't stay long! I just need a check."
"What check?"
"See, I sort of promised this high school student from Philly that I'm mentoring that the Justice League would pay his college tuition and fees. His name's Billy Batson. Do you make the check out to his parents or to the school?"
"Last time I checked, Queen Consolidated isn't the Justice League," Felicity pointed out.
"Well, no,” Quentin conceded, “but I told the kid that Oliver and I would cover it.”
“Then why doesn’t Oliver write out a check?” Felicity demanded.
“All I know is Oliver said to ask you to make the arrangements."
"Oh did he? Where's Oliver now?"
"On a mission."
"That's convenient."
"Not really."
"Did you have to barge into my office for this? Why didn't you just email or text me?"
"You know why. Technology hates me. So, about that check?"
"I can't just put some teen's college tuition down as a business expense!" Felicity threw her hands up. "Queen Consolidated has shareholders, you know. And accountants and auditors and lawyers. I have to answer to them. I can't tell them that we're writing checks because a member of the Justice League said so. And you know damn well, Captain, that it’s a crime to falsify business records."
"Well, how about this, couldn't the company just set up a scholarship? It would be good PR, sending an underprivileged foster kid to college, making sure he doesn't end up back on the streets. The shareholders'd understand a PR move."
"Alright, fine,” Felicity sighed. She did actually like the idea of helping the kid. What she didn’t like was having more on her always full to do list. “Get me his information and I'll work with the accountants and the lawyers to figure it out. God, I didn't have to deal with stuff like this when I was still in the IT department."
"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," Quentin quipped, finding it difficult to muster up sympathy as he looked around the spacious office, with a view of the city that others would kill for.
"Are we done here?" Felicity demanded, as she sat back behind her desk.
"You having a rough day?" Quentin asked. That he could empathize with. He certainly had his fair share of those.
"I just have a lot on my mind. You know, you don't know how lucky you have it. You have to buy what, one, maybe two presents for those on your Christmas list? I have to buy eight and I have to buy them sooner because Chanukah starts on Sunday night and will be over before Christmas. Do you know how hard it is to get eight thoughtful presents for one person??"
"Would it help if I get you the Hanukkah candles? I can take care of that for you," Quentin offered.