A/N: I couldn't resist... I told myself over and over that I wouldn't go there, but Olicity is quite addictive, you know. Before I knew it, my muse got ideas and my fingers were flying across the keyboards. This will mainly be one-shots (possibly related to each other) about or including Felicity and Oliver (not always in a romantic capacity). Sometimes I may follow what's canon, other times not. They are one-shots and therefore the rules of the show doesn't have to apply. I could be game for requests.

Spoilers: Post-2x06

Synopsis: Felicity and Isabel clash after the 'business trip' to Russia in 2x06.

From Russia With Disdain

"Any chance of a cup of coffee today, Ms Smoak?"

Felicity snorted as she leaned down and pressed the button on the high-tech intercom that rested on her desk. "No."

She glanced up through the glass walls of the office and saw her boss and his personal driver (to refer to them as such still felt more than a little laughable to her) smile back at her with genuine affection. The men were standing by the desk at the other end of the big office and were supposed to be discussing their curricular activities for the night, not take a jab at her secretarial status. She fixed them with an halfhearted glare before she walked back around her desk, sank into her own seat and got to work.

She'd barely been at it fifteen minutes when suddenly the slender frame of Isabel Rochev stepped into her office as if she owned the place. Technically she did own half the place, but certainly not this part of Queen Consolidated.

Felicity jumped out of her seat and flew forward as Isabel reached for the door handle to Oliver's office without even explaining her urgent business. The brunette wore a skin-tight, red number that managed to exude both confidence and sex-appeal. It also made her look like the Devil's Advocate, a title Felicity was sure she actually possessed in secret, along with other less flattering names. Well, maybe not so secret, judging by her frosty surface and crude behavior towards anyone that wasn't Isabel Rochev.

"I'm sorry, Ms Rochev. Mr Queen is busy at the moment."

Isabel stopped and exhaled slowly as she turned to face the executive assistant. Something dark flashed in her eyes and Felicity could tell the other woman was in no mood to talk to her. Felicity hadn't particularly been Ms Rochev's biggest fan before the little trip to Russia, but ever since getting back from abroad, knowing what had transpired between Isabel and Oliver… Well, they were still stuck between a rock and a hard place. If anything, their rocky acquaintance was worse than ever. Felicity wasn't entirely sure what the other woman had to be mad about, though. It had been Isabel, after all, who'd gotten to jump into bed with the ever-so-fit and undeniably handsome Oliver Queen. Not that Felicity had noticed. No. No...

Isabel shrugged her eyebrows. "He is?"

"He is," the blonde nodded and stuttered, "I-I mean he's with his personal driver going over Mr Queen's schedule for the week. It'll only take another minute. You can wait, if you like."

The option seemed about as pleasant as a colonoscopy as the other woman grimly smiled. "… Then I'll wait."

Felicity mirrored the grimace as she waved towards one of the chairs by the wall, but Isabel walked over and gracefully sat down on the chair just opposite her desk.

The blonde woman felt her irritation reach new heights as she glanced down at the back of the woman's head. This was going to be one of those days, then. She really wasn't in the mood for trying to work while the Russian bitch sat judging her from the other side of the small desk. She knew looks couldn't kill, but didn't really feel like taking the risk with this particular woman. If anyone could suddenly sprout killer glares, it would have to be that woman.

Felicity suppressed her annoyance as she walked around her desk. Without a word, she sank into her own chair and set to business. Most of her focus was spent on trying to ignore the other woman and she was only half-aware of exactly what meetings she was filling Oliver's schedule with for the coming weeks. She'd have to go over it all again later.

"What was it?" Isabel drawled all the sudden.

Felicity jumped at the unexpected sound and her hands hit the table top as she turned from her computer. "… Wh-what was what?"

"What skill set brought you out of the IT department and into Oliver's office?"

The blonde woman could barely put a lid on her suppressed anger as she saw the unspoken question simmer brazenly in Isabel's eyes. The nerve of that Class A-bitch…

Felicity shifted awkwardly in her seat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," Isabel retorted in lightning speed.

The blonde nodded slowly as she focused on keeping her breathing slow and controlled. The last thing she needed was to fly off the handle with this woman.

"Well…? What was it?"

"Mr Queen and I are not involved."

The brunette's smirk was anything but kind when she said in a cheerful voice, "Oh, he told me that."

"He did? I mean, of course he did. 'Cause it's true," Felicity inclined her head and bit down on her bottom lip to control her tongue. "Listen, I'm not in love with-"

"Yes, you are."

That was the last drop and the executive assistant lost herself to the irritation as she furiously babbled, "You know what? My feelings for Ol-Mr Queen are irrelevant. Not that I have any. Of course I don't. I mean: I'm good at what I do regardless. In fact, I've been told I'm remarkable. And I am. I mean at my day job! Of course I'd mean my day job… it's not like I have a night job. Or sex! ... Gah! I mean: I wasn't referring to sex. Though, I also quite enjoy- Ehm. I do my job here at Queen Consolidated and I go above and beyond what is expected of me as his executive assistant. Do you know who upgraded the computer system on this floor last week? Here's a hint: It wasn't your executive assistant. I'm a hard worker who's good at what I do, and that's how I got to this point."

Isabel leaned back in her seat and seemed like a lion prepared to pounce on her weaker prey as her eyes held the other woman's captive. "No, you didn't," the brunette said and Felicity momentarily lost her momentum. The other woman slid one leg over the other and leaned forward as a playful streak flashed by in her chocolate colored eyes. "An IT geek does not become an executive assistant due to merit. That's not how the world turns. And Oliver Queen doesn't strike me as the kind of man who keeps a lovesick kitten around if he feels nothing for her. Which is why it puzzles me."

Felicity snorted and crossed her arms over her chest as she glanced into the office beside her own. Oliver and John were seated on opposite sides of the big desk of the CEO, looking down intently at something on the table surface between them, neither one seeming deep in conversation. Then again, the two of them had developed a wordless form of communication that came especially in handy during their night job.

The blonde turned back to her opponent and tiredly huffed, "That's rich coming from-"

"-Your superior."

"-someone who had a drunken one night stand with him in Russia."

Her small office fell into an uncomfortable silence as Felicity's mind registered her own words… Oh. If only she'd registered that warning tone before opening her big mouth that always got her into trouble. Isabel's gaze was unwavering and freakishly unblinking as they glared across the abyss at the blonde woman. Seriously, didn't she need to moisten her eyeballs? Maybe she literally was the Devil, after all...

The intercom suddenly boomed with a carefree, familiar voice, "You can send in Ms Rochev now, Ms Smoak. Mr Diggle and I are done."

Felicity froze and slowly turned her head to glance inside her boss' office. He was smiling encouragingly with a flawless mask and the other man had just risen from his own seat. Oliver waved a hand to indicate she could follow his order and the blonde nodded distantly as she pressed the right button and replied, "… Yes, Mr Queen."

She cleared her throat and exhaled inconspicuously before facing the brunette before her. Felicity was surprised to see that the daggers in Isabel's eyes were less visible than before.

With a hint of smirk (was the woman possible of joy, after all?), Isabel rose from her seat and then breathed, "Looks like the kitten has claws, after all…"

Without another word, the Class A-Bitch turned on her 6-inch heels and stomped into Oliver's office. Felicity sank back into her chair as Diggle stepped out to join her and closed the door to the CEO's office behind him. He pocketed his hands in his suit pants and an amused grin graced his lips as he slowly strolled over to her.

The woman felt her shoulders slump and she tried to swirl her chair so that it faced away from the office, suddenly hating the glass walls that separated them. Her shame was too visible to Oliver and she'd rather he didn't see her like this. Then again, it was probably too little too late. Her eyes hesitantly met her friend's. She swallowed heavily and voiced the scenario of her worst nightmare come true, "The intercom was on the entire time, wasn't it?"

John nodded. "Yep."

Felicity wanted to sink through the floor, not caring about the fact that they were almost at the top of the building and such a fall could kill her. "Oh God… I just lost my day job, didn't I?"

John chuckled as he saw his friend's cheeks turn a dark shade of crimson to match her lipstick. "I don't know about that. Come on. Let's take a coffee break while the two of them jabber. On me."

"It better be since I'll be unemployed soon enough," Felicity muttered before she inhaled deeply. As she exhaled, she sat up straight even though she felt a new level of fatigue enter her battle-worn body. "You know what, I probably shouldn't. I don't want that... woman thinking she got to me. That she won. I'll stay and wait this one out."

Nearly ten minutes later, Isabel Rochev left the CEO's office in the company of the suit-clad man himself. Neither of them threw her as much as a glance, and Felicity was grateful for it as she released a breath she hadn't been aware of holding the second they were out the door.

Free of her demons, she set to proper work and was soon engrossed at it. She was so absorbed that she jumped in her seat when a coffee cup suddenly was set down atop the desk before her. She frowned down at it for a second before her eyes traveled up the length of the grey sleeve attached to the arm holding the cup. Her eyes traveled past the creamy skin of the man's neck and his short scruff before they met his expressive blue eyes. Oliver had his infamous smirk to his gaze that didn't quite translate to the rest of his face. She didn't quite like that expression, since she'd learned it could have many meanings depending on his mood.

"One," he said calmly and stepped back.

"Eh?" Felicity called out and the man stopped a few feet from the door to his office and turned to face her once more. She pointed down at the cup and searched for the right words, "Are you sure you're not doing that wrong?"

"No, pretty sure it's right," he shrugged as if it was no strange deal for the CEO of the company to bring his secretary a cup of coffee. The woman could only frown across the space that divided them as he took a hesitant step towards her. "And, Felicity? You are remarkable."

"I know. I mean, you've said that before. I didn't mean to blow my own trumpet… which is a weird saying now that I think about it. I mean, it implies that you would blow someone else's trumpet and really that's kind of weird and a little bit icky if you take it literally."

"Felicity."

She cleared her throat and smiled apologetically. "Thank you. And I know you overheard earlier, so… I'm sorry."

The man simply nodded his head, as if the Shakespearean battle of wits between his business partner and executive assistant hadn't been out of order either. Instead something flashed by in his eyes and his forehead burrowed with a touch of worry. "Were you aware of the, eh… The, eh…?"

"Rumours?" she filled in. "Yeah. Kind of hard to ignore, Oliver."

The tall man sighed and his gaze lowered as he breathed sincerely, "I'm sorry I put you in a position where you… I didn't consider the consequences it would have on you personally when I promoted you. I didn't think people would talk…"

Felicity tilted her head to the side and smiled widely. "Oliver… You're the only one who knows what's going on in that funny, odd head of yours. The rest of the world? Not so much. All they saw was a blonde IT girl getting five feet away from the hot CEO's office all the sudden. I mean… You know what I mean. Of course there's going to be gossip. That's kind of the point though, isn't it? It's better that they still buy your public persona and think you're Ollie" - she said his nickname with a swift, disgusted grimace and failed to notice the man's amusement at this - "and don't have a clue that it's all a cover to discuss secret hood stuff in broad daylight without arousing suspicion. I didn't like not being consulted about it, Oliver… but it's worth it. The pay raise kind of made up for most of my troubles, too. Besides, I'm used to the name calling. I can handle it."

He didn't look as convinced about that as she felt, and reluctantly spoke in a strained tone of voice, "Let me know if I can help in any way."

Felicity grimaced. "No offense, but you'd probably end up doing more harm than good. It'll pass when the next rumor surfaces in the elevators. I might help them along if it doesn't pass soon, though. I've been working on a good one regarding Ms Rochev and… Ah, you'll just have to hear it from the rumor mill like the rest of them."

Oliver smiled and the warmth softened his face considerably. For a second, he didn't look like the tormented man he'd returned as since his years on that hellish island. Unaware of her scrutiny, the suit-clad man lingered in the open doorway. "Still, I'm sorry."

Felicity returned the smile. "I appreciate the sentiment, Oliver. I really do… And the coffee!"

The man chuckled under his breath and entered his office without another word. Felicity grinned into the edge of her cup as she sipped from the warm liquid and turned back to her computers, with more ease in her body than she'd carried in a while.

More to come...