This fic is based on the movie A Lot like Love, which, in my opinion, is the best rom com of all time. There's one scene in this chapter where I directly lifted two pieces of dialogue from the film and if you can spot them then I love you! Anyway, really hope you guy's enjoy this!
###
The first time he saw her was outside an airport in Boston.
A guy with greasy brown hair and an attitude stood on the curb next to an ancient hunk of junk Toyota—one door dented so badly he wasn't sure how the guy got it open—while she lugged a black duffle bag out of the trunk of a cab. The guy didn't even offer to help, just waved his hands around like they were having an argument. The girl—clad in a black leather jacket, green cargo pants and a sturdy looking pair of combat boots—threw her duffle over her shoulder and tilted her head to the side, giving the guy a deadly glare.
It was then that Oliver Queen pulled out his cell phone and snapped a shot of the pair.
He'd always loved capturing people—moments—in photographs. He had hundreds of photos of his little sister, Thea, as well as his mother on his laptop. Photos of their housekeeper, Raisa, smiling as she cooked dinner or made up the bedrooms. Oliver had considerably less photos of his father, Robert, but he felt the ones he did have were fitting. Robert behind his imposing mahogany desk in front of a wall of windows overlooking the city below. The city in which his family practically ruled due to their name and wealth.
Oliver also had photos of his friends, mostly Tommy and Laurel. Lots of photos of the three of them partying, especially Tommy. Some of the photos of Laurel were... private, but they were still moments he wanted to capture for reasons that were decidedly not pervy, no matter what Tommy said about it.
He didn't usually take photos of strangers. In fact, he never took photos of strangers, but there was just something about this particular moment that was striking enough to warrant Oliver pulling out his camera. Distracting himself with the beautiful goth girl and her boyfriend was less daunting than the conversation awaiting him once he told his parents he'd dropped out of yet another college.
Sighing at the reminder that, even though he had a layover in Vegas, he'd be home soon, he dropped his phone into his pocket and grabbed his luggage, hoping it would be a long flight.
The second time he saw her was at 30,000 feet in the cramped cabin of a commercial airplane. She was sitting just five rows up from him in first class.
He was astonished that he'd ended up on the same flight as the goth and that he'd managed to notice her at all—he usually slept on flights like this. But how could he miss her? Her long, dark hair and tough as nails attitude practically demanding his attention as she declined a bag of mixed nuts from the flight attendant. She was mysterious, enticing, and sexy as hell. Oliver didn't know he had a thing for goths until the very moment she turned in her seat and made eye contact with him.
He'd always been good with women. Never had to try very hard to win a woman over. But with this girl... Oliver didn't even have to say a word.
After a contemplative look, the goth stood from her seat—never once breaking eye contact—and sauntered towards the bathroom in the back. When she passed him, she reached out, running her fingers over the buttons of his shirt, up toward his neck, scraping her black nails against his skin as she went. When he whipped around to watch her go—God, she had a great ass, even in cargo pants—she glanced back over her shoulder, throwing him a wink. Or what he assumed was supposed to be a wink, at least. She sort of just blinked at him, but it was cute and she was sexy and, after waiting a whole thirty seconds, he followed her into the tiny airplane bathroom.
He knew it was going to be an uncomfortably tight fit—airplane bathrooms usually were—but when he opened the door to find her sitting on the edge of the sink, already working on the buttons of her pants... Yeah. It was so worth it.
###
Oliver wasn't exactly the kind of guy who sought a girl out after sex, but when the goth disappeared into the crowded terminal as soon as their plane landed, he couldn't help but keep an eye out for her.
He found her twenty minutes later at the baggage claim. She was sitting alone, head in her hands as she waited for her bag to come around.
"Hi, I'm Oliver," he said, approaching her with a charming grin. The girl didn't even lift her head, just tilted it to the side a little so she could see him through her hair. "I said 'hi, I'm—"
"I heard you," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I just don't understand why you're ruining it."
Oliver narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing. "Ruining what?"
"Us," she said simply, sitting back and finally raising her head to look at him. She took him in from head to toe and Oliver had never felt quite so judged in his life. Not even when his father was berating him. "Our experience."
"Our experience?" Oliver chuckled, feeling smug. "I don't think introducing myself is going to ruin that."
She stood, just as a few bags came around the corner of the carrousel. "Before you were the hot, mysterious guy I had spontaneous sex with on a plane. Now you're just Oliver." She shrugged, stepping closer to the luggage as it approached.
"Come on," he laughed, "what's your name?" When it became clear she wouldn't answer, Oliver huffed. "You don't exactly make it easy for a guy."
Felicity hefted her duffle bag off the conveyor belt, turning narrowed blue eyes on him. "I think I made it pretty easy for you, Oliver."
With that, she marched off, back into the crowd.
Oliver didn't mean to follow her.
Okay, he kind of did, but not in a creepy way. His flight to Starling City didn't board for another nine and a half hours—a long layover in Vegas seemed fun when he'd booked the flight—and he had to do something, right? Goth Girl looked like she knew where she was going, so he figured he'd follow her lead.
He caught up to her by the taxi line outside the airport's main entrance, after nearly being distracted by a group of sorority girls playing the slot machines. Sitting on a concrete bench, the goth stared down at her phone indecisively.
"Thinking of calling your boyfriend?" Oliver asked, stepping up beside her.
She rolled her eyes, but didn't bother looking over at him. Instead, she snapped her phone off and shoved it deep into her pocket. "My mother, actually. She was supposed to pick me up, but she's not here, so... I should probably count my blessings."
Taking her answer as an invitation, he sat down beside her.
"I feel you," he said, then sighed. "I'm planning on enjoying my layover here because once I get home to Starling, my parents are going to kill me."
"See you just keep ruining it." The goth shook her head, leaning back in exasperation.
"How—"
"Because you're not mysterious, hot plane guy anymore. You're not even mysterious, hot plane Oliver anymore." She gestured toward him, her hand flapping in his direction. "Now you're just Oliver from Starling who pissed off his parents."
He couldn't understand why knowing things about him was killing this thing between them for her. Girls usually prattled away while he ignored most of what they said, but he at least pretended to listen.
"Well, you're the goth girl with the unreliable mother and a possibly ex-boyfriend in Boston," he sniped back.
She stood from the bench, giving him a long look, her forehead crinkled adorably as she squinted down at him. "How'd you know about him?"
"Your boyfriend?" Oliver asked. "I saw you with some guy in Boston. Looked like you were having a fight."
"Oh, that," Felicity dismissed with a wave of her hand. She spun around, walking towards a newly arrived cab and Oliver hurried to keep up. "Yeah, we were having a fight. More like he was still trying to have a fight and I was leaving him because he's a dumbass."
"What happened?" Oliver asked, genuinely curious as he pulled open the cab door for her. He'd been curious ever since he'd seen their body language at the airport. It'd screamed story and, while Oliver wasn't usually nosy, there was just something about this girl that intrigued him.
"He wanted to be Robin Hood," she said, chucking her duffle into the backseat before sliding in herself.
"Robin Hood?" Oliver laughed. "What the hell does that mean?"
Instead of an answer, the goth smiled, really smiled, for the first time since he'd met her. "I'm Felicity," she said, then slammed the door shut. After saying something to the cabby, she wiggled her fingers at Oliver through the window as the cab pulled away from the curb.
"Felicity," he couldn't help but repeat to himself as he watched her disappear into traffic and out of his life.
As far as he was concerned, knowing her name hadn't done anything to diminish their experience. It just gave him something to remember her by.
###
Felicity's day wasn't going very well.
She'd broken up with Cooper, then he'd followed her to the airport to try to tell her how ridiculous she was being. And now her mother had stood her up at the airport, even though Felicity texted her three times this morning to remind her.
On the plus side, she'd had sex. Really, really good sex, so that was nice. But everything else sucked and would continue to suck until she was out of Las Vegas again.
The cab pulled up to the MGM and Felicity paid the fare, then turned with a sigh. The casino was bustling, a group of suit clad young men pulling up in a limo, a group of blue haired grandmas in too big t-shirts with fanny packs around their waists exiting from the lobby. Families and friends and strangers alike were there to have a good time.
Most people loved coming to places like this. For Felicity, it felt like this city was draining her life energy, and she hadn't even seen her mother yet. With a resigned huff, Felicity squared her shoulders, marched into the cacophony of the hotel lobby, and headed straight for the bar.
Dinging and clanging, bells and whistles, people shouting over all of it. It made Felicity's teeth clench like nails on a chalkboard. She'd always hated how loud Vegas was, even in the off season. With the holidays just around the corner, everything was festooned in garish greens and reds. Sparkling christmas lights invaded every open nook and cranny, adding to the spectacle. And in the center of it all stood a tall Christmas tree, families gathering around to revel in the splendor of it all.
"Not even one menorah," she muttered to herself, earning a look from a family that had been taking a photo in front of the tree.
Leaving most of the crowd behind, she made her way to the bar, immediately spotting the blonde hair and tight red dress she'd been looking for. There weren't many people at the bar this time of day, so Donna Smoak was leaning close to one of the guests, probably smiling and flirting her way into a good tip.
"Mom!" Felicity called, dropping her bag beside one of the bar stools.
Donna's head snapped up immediately. She spun around so fast that Felicity couldn't help but wonder how she'd managed that kind of pivot in six inch heels.
"My baby!"
The ear piercing screech hit her half a second before her mother crashed into her, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace.
"Mom, Mom!" Felicity protested. "Too tight. I can't breathe."
Donna ignored her melodramatics, but pulled back to look at her. "My baby's home!" she grinned, and Felicity almost smiled back. That was, until Donna pulled Felicity into her side, spinning her towards the bar patron she'd been speaking to. "Alan, this is my Felicity. I was just telling you all about her." Looking back at Felicity, she threw her a not so subtle wink and a nudge. "Alan is a... a... Oh, well," Donna chuckled. "He does something techy. You should give him your number."
Felicity hazarded a glance in Alan's direction. Alan was probably about twenty-five with an already thinning hairline and day drinking in an empty casino bar. Yeah, that wasn't happening.
Ignoring her mom's disappointed frown, Felicity took a seat at the end of the bar.
"What are you doing here so early, sweetheart?" Donna asked, hopping up onto the stool next to her. "I thought I was picking you up from the airport?"
"You were," Felicity gritted through her teeth, trying to keep a lock on her anger. The last thing she needed right now was to get into a fight with her mother on the first day of winter break. "At eleven."
Donna's ruby red lips parted in anguish, a perfectly manicured hand rising to her sizable chest. "Oh no!" she cried. "I forgot. Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. Oh, sweetheart!"
Felicity closed her eyes briefly, pressing her lips into a tight line. She was almost at the threshold for her mother's dramatics and she'd only been there five minutes.
"It's fine, Mom," she said, looking back at her mother. "I caught a cab."
"Tell you what." Donna smiled, brushing her hand across Felicity's shoulder. "Once my shift is over, I'll take you out for ice cream and then we'll go home and you can tell me all about your break up with Cooper."
"No, Mom..."
"Felicity," Donna said, shifting closer and taking her hand. "A mother wants to be there when her daughter's going through a break up. It will be good for both of us. We haven't really talked in ages."
Felicity, for all of her rebellious spirit and dark makeup, couldn't completely dismiss her mother. So, instead, she lied. "I would love to, Mom, but I'm actually meeting a friend."
"A friend?" Donna asked, looking taken aback. Affronted as she felt at her mother's disbelief, Felicity couldn't really blame her. She hadn't had many friends growing up. Chalk it up to skipping two grades or just her sparkling personality, but she hadn't ever connected to any of her peers here in Vegas, so Felicity's claim of spending time with a friend was bound to spark suspicion. "Oh... well," Donna said, trying to hide her frown. "That's nice. Who are you meeting?"
"It's... You don't know him," Felicity said quickly, her brain latching onto the image of Oliver and his stupid good looking face. "He's only in town for a little while and I really wanted to spend some time with him."
"Him?" her mother chirped, clearly excited at the prospect of Felicity spending time with a man. As far as Donna was concerned, any man would do, as long as he had, you know, man parts and wasn't married.
"Yeah." Felicity smirked, a plan forming in her head. "His name's Oliver and he's stopping through to see me before heading home to Starling."
"Oliver." Donna's eyes lit with delight as she repeated the name to herself. "Is he handsome?"
"Yup." Felicity smiled, hopping off the stool and taking a step back. "But he's got some bad news waiting for him when he gets back, so I wanted to make sure his trip is extra special. Sorry that I won't be able to spend much time with you while I'm here."
Donna smiled sympathetically. "Oh, sweetheart, that's okay. You can always spend time with me, but your friend isn't here for very long. Oh!" Sliding off her own stool, Donna headed around the bar, ducking under it for a moment. When she popped back up, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders, she handed Felicity a set of keys and made a shooing gesture. "Go on, take my car. It's in the lot. Have fun. And be safe," she added with a meaningful look.
"Ugh, Mom!" she protested. "It's not like that."
But it was actually exactly like that. Or, at least, it had been like that. There was no chance she'd actually run into Oliver again, seeing as he was still at the airport waiting for his flight, so while she wasn't opposed to a repeat of what they'd done on the plane—quite the opposite actually—it wasn't something that was going to happen again.
What a shame, too. Oliver might not have been her type, but he was definitely the most... skilled guy she'd ever been with.
Grabbing her duffle off the floor, Felicity headed home to drop her stuff off and then maybe she'd find a quiet place to grab a coffee and get a jump on some coding.
###
Gambling wasn't exactly Oliver's strong suit, but when in Vegas…
By the time he wandered back onto the noisy Vegas strip he was down $800 and two drinks deep. Pulling out his phone told him he still had several hours to kill before he needed to get back to the airport, but, unbelievable as it seemed, he was already bored of Vegas. Too much money, alcohol, and women at his fingertips. He wanted a challenge, especially after meeting that feisty goth chick this morning.
Felicity.
He moved through the crowded sidewalk, wishing he'd gotten her last name or her phone number, but maybe she was right. Maybe part of her allure came from the not knowing. That would definitely explain why he couldn't get her off his mind. That and the sex, because, if she could do that in an airplane bathroom, what could she do in an actual bed?
As he walked further down the Strip, daydreaming about dark hair fanning out over satin sheets, a flash of that same dark hair caught Oliver's eye through a window and he whipped around, mind conjuring images of his goth, smirking and looking just as sexy as she had on the plane.
Blinking, first through the glare off the window and then in surprise, he realized it really was Felicity sitting there in a booth behind the glass, typing furiously away at a laptop.
What were the chances he'd actually run into her again?
Astronomical, probably, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If the universe wanted to serve Felicity up to him, then who was he to say no?
Quickly finding the door, a bell chimed as he pushed into the diner. Red vinyl booths ran along three walls and a counter stood front and center, a large retro clock displayed on the wall behind it. There was an overall '50s theme happening, but it wasn't enough to be kitsch. Ignoring the smiling waitress behind the counter, Oliver moved further into the diner to where Felicity was sitting.
"Mysterious, hot plane girl," he said, sidling up to her table with a smirk. "Fancy meeting you here."
Startling slightly in a way that gave Oliver great pleasure, she turned to look at him, eyes wide behind a pair of dark plastic frames she hadn't been wearing earlier. "O-Oliver… What…"
It was a strange thing, this unflappable girl looking so out of it just because he'd shown up unexpectedly. He took the moment of confusion to slide into the booth across from her before she could tell him to beat it, which he was absolutely expecting her to do at any second.
"I was wandering around, saw you through the window. Thought I'd say hi, since the universe seems to want us together." He smiled when she rolled her eyes at that statement, seemingly over her momentary shock at seeing him.
"It's not the universe," she scoffed. "Just my brief lapse of judgment on that plane."
Oliver did his best to look affronted, placing a hand to his chest as if he was wounded. "You don't think it's fate? Even after this?" he said, gesturing around them to the diner.
"I think it's a mix of revenge sex, stalking and me hacking my way into first class, but if fate works for you"—her smirk transformed into a full on grin as she spoke—"go with it."
Oliver raised an eyebrow, interested in the hacking thing, but decided to let it go for now. Instead he laughed, "Revenge sex? Now I feel cheap."
"You should." She clicked something on her laptop and, for a moment, Oliver thought she was about to send him packing, but then she closed the lid and relaxed a little more into the booth. She watched him for a long moment before the corner of her lips tipped up just the slightest bit. "What do you want, Oliver?"
Honestly? He wasn't sure. All he knew was, he enjoyed this game they were playing and he wanted to keep playing it.
"The story," he said finally, following her lead and getting comfortable on his side of the booth. "You used me for my body," he teased. "I'd like to know why."
Exasperation flickered through her blue eyes, and Oliver might have backed off if he hadn't seen amusement there as well. She was enjoying the game just as much as he was, even if she was reluctant to admit it.
"I'm going to need a burger and a strawberry milkshake if you expect me to bare my soul," she said with a long, put upon sigh.
Oliver grinned and waved the waitress over. "Sounds good to me."
###
"Hacktivism sounds kind of badass," Oliver said once Felicity was done explaining how her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had stolen the computer virus she designed and used it to hack into and delete student loan debt.
"Sure," Felicity shrugged, "if it's done responsibly. But Cooper is an idiot who's going to get himself arrested." She shook her head, before popping a fry into her mouth. "Thank god, I managed to cut the connection before he did any real damage. The FBI showing up asking questions is the last thing I need." She huffed a sigh. "I should have known that it was never going to work out with him. He already had two strikes against him."
"Two strikes?" Oliver asked, eating a few of his own fries. He'd already polished off his burger so fast Felicity wasn't sure he'd even tasted it.
"Yeah," she said, popping another fry. "Last year I caught him cheating off me on a test. Not to mention, I was the one to ask him out. How many chances should a guy get?"
"You like a guy that makes the first move?" Oliver smiled, clearly going for that effortless charm that must usually have girls eating out of the palm of his hand. "So if I asked you out right now, you'd say yes?"
Felicity's face scrunched up in confusion for a moment, but she composed herself quickly, instead shooting him an amused look. She played with the straw of her milkshake, just watching him for a moment. She knew he expected her to be swooning at his attempt to woo her, and the uncomfortable look that crossed his face when she didn't nearly had her laughing out loud.
"I'm pretty sure I'm the one who seduced you on that plane, Oliver," she said with a smug smile. "That means I made the first move."
"I didn't know we were counting the plane," Oliver muttered, before glancing away to finish off his fries.
"Of course, we were. If a guy isn't interested in making a move the very first time he sees you, then he's not interested."
Oliver snorted. "We had sex. I was plenty interested. You didn't give me a chance to make the first move."
"You would have done something besides blink at me if you were interested in more than a quickie." He opened his mouth to argue, but Felicity waved it off. "Besides, you're a preppy frat boy. That's strike two already."
"I already have two strikes?!" Oliver leaned forward incredulously. "That's not fair!"
"Life isn't fair, Oliver," she said, as she plunged her straw in and out of her shake a few times. "Not even to someone like you."
"What does that mean?" he asked, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest.
"It means," she said with a roll of her eyes, "that no matter how handsome or charming or rich you are—Oh, yeah, I can tell you're rich. Just look at your shoes—not everything in this world is yours for the taking."
"You seemed pretty open to the taking on the plane." He smirked, blue eyes crinkling prettily, but she was immune to his charm.
"Like I said, brief lapse of judgment. I'm sure that happens to you a lot." At his shiteating grin, she scrunched her face up in disgust. "You should probably get tested," she said, eyeing him, before she grimaced. "I should probably get tested after what we did. Ugh. That was not my smartest move."
Oliver rolled his eyes. "I've been tested. I'm STD free as of two weeks ago. You?"
She glared, but he just raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
"I'm clean," she huffed after a moment. "No worries there. And I can't believe that's a thing you have to do. How many women have you slept with?"
"And Robin Hood?" Oliver asked, ignoring her judgmental question.
"He's clean, too," she hissed, annoyed at his prodding. "We've been dating for over a year."
"What does that have to do with it?" he asked, leaning back into the booth. "I have a girlfriend and we still had sex."
At his words, Felicity froze, her insides turning to ice as she stared at him, mouth gaping. "I'm sorry. You what?"
"I'm technically dating someone. Didn't stop us this morning." He shrugged, taking a long sip of his soda. "I'm just saying, just because you're dating someone doesn't make you immune to STDs."
Part of her got what he was saying, the other part was slowly thawing and turning into a raging inferno of… rageiness because, "YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!"
Oliver glanced up from his soda, eyes wide and suddenly wary. Good! Except a few of the other diners—and staff—were looking in her direction now, too.
"What the hell do you mean you have a girlfriend?" Felicity spit, using her indoor voice this time and hoping people would stop staring. "What the hell, Oliver? Having a girlfriend means you don't go around screwing random girls in airplane bathrooms!"
"Hey," he said, throwing a hand up in a gesture she was sure he thought would calm her down, but it only pissed her off more. "You seduced me on that plane, not the other way around."
Felicity gaped at him, eyes wide with incredulity. "Yes, I had sex with you. Willingly. Because I had just broken up with my boyfriend and wanted to. It was not my job to make sure you weren't being a cheating bastard. That's your responsibility, buddy."
"You're right." Oliver nodded then shrugged. "But it's not an unusual occurrence for me—"
"So you proudly admit that you're a cheater?" she cut him off.
"I never said I was proud of the things I do," Oliver argued.
"Oh, bullshit!" Felicity shook her head disgustedly. "You were plenty proud of yourself on that plane. Don't act like you're some sort of victim of circumstance. If you weren't proud of being a douchebag, then you wouldn't be one."
"I'm not a douchebag." Oliver grabbed his soda, taking a gulp like this conversation, like cheating on his girlfriend, didn't even faze him. "I might not be the most monogamous guy on the planet, but I love Laurel. I've loved her for years."
"Look," Felicity said, rolling her eyes, "far be it for me to criticize your relationship with a girl I don't know and don't give a shit about, but if you loved her," she paused, blue eyes locking onto his, pointedly, "you wouldn't be screwing strangers in airplane bathrooms."
For a moment he frowned, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. Felicity definitely felt like kicking him. Because, whatever she said, she did give a shit. She'd just done something unforgivable with another girl's boyfriend and, while she may not know her or be the first to do it, knowing that she had aided in betraying someone, however accidentally, was an unpleasant feeling.
He ran a hand over the back of his neck, glancing away uncomfortably. "You're right," he said finally. "Laurel and I have problems, but I do love her. I've loved her most of my life. And now we're in different colleges, in different cities, and things are tricky, but you're right. I could work on being a better boyfriend. And I'm sorry," he added, "for involving you in my mess like that."
Felicity wasn't sure what to say. He seemed sincere, but his relationship wasn't really her business. What happened, happened. Nothing she could do about it now, except make sure it didn't happen again, which it definitely was not going to now that she knew about Laurel.
"Okay," she said quietly, accepting the apology.
"Are you mad now?" he asked, still sporting full on puppy eyes and, for some reason, they managed to suck her back in despite herself.
Even though she knew she should leave it at that—tell him to have a nice life, pay for lunch and go home—she just couldn't. Her anger over unwittingly becoming a homewrecker was fading and the idea of spending the rest of the night coding and having an awkward dinner with her mother just wasn't as appealing as it had been before Oliver showed up.
She wasn't sure why, but she'd enjoyed the last hour—aside from the homewrecker thing—and didn't want to part ways just yet. Oliver might be cheating scum, but he was also the only person besides her mother that she knew in the whole city, and she liked talking to him.
"What time's your flight?" she asked suddenly, an idea forming.
"Eight," Oliver answered, brows furrowing at her question, but she ignored him, checking the time on her phone. She hadn't been there in years, but if they left now they could make it back in time...
She slid out of the booth—the vinyl squeaking oh so flatteringly as she did—and headed for the door. Oliver quickly threw some money down on the table and followed after her.
"Hey," he yelled as she looked both ways before crossing the street to her mom's old, red Mazda. "Wait up."
"Do you want to go somewhere with me?" she asked, spinning around to look up at him when he caught up.
He watched her for a long moment, too long a moment, before nodding, and she gestured for him to get in the passenger's side before climbing in herself.
###
"Felicity, wait up!"
Oliver stumbled over a rock, causing his foot to slip down the rocky trail he was currently climbing, trying to keep up with Felicity.
He was athletic, he shouldn't be having such a hard time with this. Granted, he hadn't hiked much in his life, or ever. He was more of a treadmill runner. Didn't go out into the actual outdoors unless it involved sand and bikinis. His foot slipped on the smooth sandstone again, allowing Felicity to pull ahead even more.
"My dad used to take me out here as a kid," she'd said, eyes on the mostly empty road ahead of her as they'd driven into the desert. "It was kind of our place, you know? Mom never liked being out in the sun for too long—gives you wrinkles, she says. But me and my dad, we'd come out every couple of weeks to look at the view."
"What view?" Oliver had asked.
She'd turned to him with a teasing smile. "You'll see."
He'd been a little shocked when Felicity had pulled the car into a national park—one that just looked like more desert—and kept driving. She drove, past desert and cacti and rocks jutting up out of the sand, until she found the spot she was looking for, a semi-deserted parking area at the foot of a huge rock face.
"Come on," she'd said, hopping out of the car. "This way."
Oliver followed, realizing that there were a number of trails heading up into the rocky hills. There weren't many people around at first, but the further they walked the more groups they came upon. Two hikers just coming back from a trail, a couple of kids giving their parents a hard time about going back to the car, a tour group taking a break in a shady spot. The further in they went, the steeper the trail, the harder it became to keep up. Which led him here, to Felicity gaining ground while Oliver just tried not to slip.
"Do you want a break?" she asked about thirty minutes into their hike. She stopped, leaning back against a boulder, and pulled a bottle of water from the backpack she'd picked up at a gas station before they'd left Vegas. Oliver leaned beside her, gratefully taking the bottle when she offered it. He took a long sip, looking out over the view.
Even in December it was warm out here in the sun, but he could already see why she liked it. Desert stretched out in every direction and more jagged red cliffs rose in the distance. It was bleak, but beautiful. So much history, so much that had nothing to do with them. They were just here in passing and tomorrow, when he was back in Starling, or in a few weeks when Felicity was back in Boston, or in a hundred years when they were both dead and gone, this would still be here. It was both terrifying and beautiful. Kind of like Felicity.
"I didn't realize I'd be hiking quite so much today. I would have worn better shoes," Oliver said, looking down at his boots. They were expensive, but not exactly made for this sort of thing.
"If I can do it in combat boots, you'll be fine," Felicity said, then closed her eyes, shaking her head and it took Oliver a moment to recognize the slight innuendo in her words. "I mean… Oh, you know what I mean."
Oliver bit back a smile, but when she peeked at him from the corner of her eye he couldn't help but give her a lecherous grin. "You did it just fine in combat boots earlier."
Felicity rolled her eyes, grabbing the water bottle back and taking a long sip. "Let's not talk about The Mistake ever again," she said. "Come on, long way to go and we don't have much time to do it. See it," she corrected quickly. "Hike it. Shit."
Oliver laughed, enjoying how flustered she was, and pushed off the wall to follow after her.
It took about an hour before Felicity grabbed his hand, hurrying to the right past a jagged piece of sandstone. Scurrying up the rock, she pulled him along until the view opened up and he could see... more desert.
"This is great. Looks totally different than the desert on the other side…" Oliver teased, turning in place to look behind him at the rest of the desert stretching in the other direction, but stopped suddenly when he saw what Felicity was looking at.
To his right was Las Vegas, shining like a mirage in the distance.
"Oh," he breathed, blinking at how brightly the sun was reflecting off the hotels and casinos.
"Yeah," Felicity said, beside him. "My dad always said Vegas sparkled more during the day then it ever could at night." She carefully lowered herself to the dusty ground, stretching her legs out before her and pulling another water and a candy bar from her bag. "We were a lot alike, me and my dad. He was the one who taught me about computers." She smiled, tearing open the chocolate bar and taking a bite.
Oliver sat down too, unconcerned with the fact that he was probably ruining his designer jeans, too torn between looking at the view and watching her. He didn't know why she was opening up to him like this, considering she hadn't even wanted to know his name earlier, but he wasn't going to mess it up by complaining about some dirt.
"I built my first computer at seven." Her smile turned sad as she played with the crinkling wrapper in her hand. "It was after… after he left. I took apart all of the electronics he'd left around the house for parts, thinking that maybe if I could build a computer like he did, he'd see how smart I was—that I could help him with his work—that he would take me with him."
Oliver didn't do feelings. He wasn't that guy. He'd told Laurel so countless times. But, whether it was the look on Felicity's face or the hollow sound of her voice, Oliver reached over and took her hand. She startled, blinking away what he could only imagine were tears, but he couldn't be sure from this angle.
"My dad was a pilot," he said softly. "Or, he knew how to fly. He actually owns a pretty big company in Starling. Sometimes he'd take me into the office with him, but he never had time for me there. He'd let me sit in his chair while he went to meetings. Give me a soda and let his secretary deal with me. And when he was at home, he was either too tired or getting ready for some event or trip or..." Oliver laughed humorlessly at the memories. "But when he flew, he always took me with him. It was our thing, kind of like coming here with your dad. And when it was just the two of us up there, he would talk to me. Teach me things. He used to do his own maintenance on the plane and he taught me." Oliver smiled, gaze still focused on the shining city in the distance. "I remember one time our radio broke and we had to land at this little airport in the middle of nowhere. We took the whole thing apart and managed to fix it together. It was just us for the whole day, talking and trying to fix the radio, completely disconnected from everything else in the world. It's still one of the best memories I have with him."
"You guys don't get along anymore?" Felicity asked softly, removing her hand from his and taking a sip of water, before handing him the bottle.
Oliver shook his head, both to the question and the offer. "No, not really. The older I got the more… I don't know. The more I felt like a disappointment. I wasn't smart enough or serious enough. I haven't exactly followed the plan he's laid out for me. College, career, marriage. He has it all figured out, but I feel like… like…"
"Like you're lost in a desert," Felicity teased, gesturing out in front of them.
"Kind of," he laughed. "What about you? You get along with your mom?"
Felicity sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back on her hands. "I moved all the way across the country to get away from my mom. What do you think?"
Oliver watched her, waiting for a better answer.
"She doesn't get me," Felicity sighed after a moment. "I'm at MIT working my ass off to get a double masters so that I can go out into the world and, I don't know, do something important. She's a cocktail waitress who wants me to dress sluttier so that I can 'finally get a man'." She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "We're just too different."
"Double masters, huh?" Oliver asked after a moment of tense silence on Felicity's part. He almost regretted asking about her mom.
Felicity shot him a smile. Her blue eyes, striking surrounded by so much black makeup, were devoid of the tension he'd noticed a moment ago. "Computer science and cyber security, yeah."
"I guess that explains the hacking into first class thing," he laughed, picking up a pebble off the rocky slope and rolling it between his fingers. "I was going for business, but I dropped out. Though my father's need for me to take over the family business someday probably means he'll ship me off to another school soon enough."
"You don't like it?" she asked.
"School?" Oliver asked, tipping his head to look at her with a teasing smile.
"Business," she said.
"Not really. I don't really know too much about it," he admitted.
"That's what school's for!" she laughed, leaning her weight to the side so she could smack him in the shoulder.
"Well, I don't really go to class much." He grinned at her, before his smile faded. "And I didn't have much say in my major, or anything about my future for that matter. According to my parents, I'll get my MBA, marry Laurel and be running their company all before I'm 30." He cocked his arm back, tossing the pebble he'd been playing with out into the canyon. He watched it fly for as long as he could until he lost it in the desert below.
"Do you want that life?" Her voice was quiet, but somehow still startled Oliver. Or maybe it was the question itself. When was the last time someone had actually asked him what he wanted?
"I guess," he said after a moment. "I mean, it's what everyone expects. I just don't want it right now. I want to have fun, travel, hang out with my friends."
"And cheat on your girlfriend with strangers," Felicity added, oh so helpfully.
Oliver rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"Not today," Felicity joked. "Seriously, though, Oliver. If you don't want the life your parents want for you… It's okay. My mom didn't want me to go to MIT because it was too far away, but it was the best decision I ever made."
"And after you graduate? I take it you won't be coming back here?"
"Oh, hell no. I'll find a job at a tech company. Kord, Star Labs, Queen Consolidated. Somewhere big, where I can stretch my wings. Or maybe I'll take a government job." She grinned playfully up at him. "CIA, NSA…"
"Tapping people's phones?"
Felicity shrugged. "Something like that."
"You have it all planned out, huh?"
"Not all of it. I don't know the details. The how's or the why's or the where's of it all. But I know which direction I'm headed." She checked her phone for the time. "South, back down this mountain so we can get you back to the airport on time."
Oliver laughed. "It's more than I have," he said as he stood and they began carefully picking their way down the sandstone trail. "I'm directionless."
"You'll find one."
"You know," Oliver said, easily keeping up now that he'd had some practice, "you sort of lose your mocking edge after a few hours."
She glared in Oliver's direction, blue eyes narrowed and clearly annoyed. "And you sort of lose your charming frat boy appeal when you're sweating like a pig."
Oliver glanced down at his shirt, pulling it away from his body to see a damp, sweat stained triangle, right in the center of his chest.
Felicity skipped ahead, tossing a wink—and a wave of dark hair—over her shoulder as she went. "I think my mocking edge is still firmly in place, don't you?"
###
There was a briskness to the air by the time they got back to the car. The sun had started to set and Oliver knew he needed to get back to the airport if he wanted to make his flight, but he also wanted to spend more time with Felicity.
He considered switching his flight to tomorrow morning. He thought he could probably convince her to get a hotel room with him. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. He knew she was pissed about Laurel. He knew she was right to be pissed about Laurel, but every time he glanced over at her all he could think was, I don't want to leave yet. And he was hoping she felt the same way.
Oliver had never felt a connection this strong before, not even with Laurel and they'd been dating on and off for almost four years. Ever since he'd met Felicity this morning, ever since he'd seen her at the airport in Boston, he'd felt drawn to her. But, despite not wanting to leave, he knew whatever this connection was, it wasn't meant to last.
Part of the reason he was able to open up to her was because she was a stranger. A stranger who didn't know who he was, didn't recognize him. Why should she? He hadn't mentioned his last name. To Felicity, he was just Oliver from the plane. An attractive stranger she'd had sex with because she was mad at her ex-boyfriend. They were never meant to be more than that.
So, as much as Oliver wanted to keep this day going forever, he didn't mention switching flights or booking hotel rooms on their way back to the city. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, watching her as the street lights illuminated her face in a steady rhythm and enjoying the comfortable silence of being with her. And when she pulled up at the airport and turned to him with a subdued smile, he memorized it. He memorized the way her dark hair contrasted against her pale skin, the way her lips tipped up just slightly at the corners, the way her blue eyes glinted in the bright lights spilling out of the terminal. He wanted to pull his cell phone out and take a picture, but thought that might be too intimate. He was still a stranger to her after all. They didn't even know each other's last names. Asking for a picture of her was probably weird. But…
Felicity got out of the car and he followed, waiting for her on the sidewalk as she came around the passenger's side.
"You should have enough time to get through security, but I wouldn't dawdle," she said, looking toward the crowded entrance and biting her lip.
Before Oliver could think too much about how he wanted to be the one biting that lip, he turned to see a group passing by, one of the women tugging a red suitcase behind her.
"Hey," Oliver said, catching the woman's attention and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He held it out to her with a hopeful smile. "Will you take a picture of me and my friend, please?"
The woman looked surprised, but smiled, taking the phone from him.
Felicity's eyebrows rose. "Seriously?"
"To remember the mysterious, hot girl from the plane and how she used me for revenge sex." Oliver grinned.
The woman's eyebrows furrowed at that, but she did hold the phone up, gesturing for them to get closer together. Oliver complied, wrapping his arm around Felicity's waist and, much to his delight, she threw a hand around his neck in return.
"Smile," the woman said and, just as she went to snap the photo, Oliver slid the hand that was positioned on Felicity's waist down to land squarely on her ass and squeezed.
She snorted a laugh at the same time the flash went off and Oliver felt inordinately pleased. The woman handed the phone back before hurrying off to catch up with her group, and Oliver enlarged the photo to get a good look. The picture was perfect. Felicity, arm wrapped around Oliver's neck, grinning into the camera. And the look on Oliver's face… Well, it would always remind him exactly how he felt that day, even years in the future.
"So…" Felicity said, smiling and looking happier than she had all day. "I guess this is it."
"Yeah." He shrugged. "For now."
Felicity laughed at that, moving closer to him so she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. "Still banking on this being an act of fate?"
"I'm just saying, you never know." He smiled down at her. "It was nice meeting you, Felicity."
Her smile softened and she leaned up, her hand wrapping around his neck again, and planted a kiss on his cheek before stepping back. "It was nice meeting you, too, Oliver," she said softly as she pulled back.
With one last smile, she turned and got into her car. This time Oliver waved his fingers at her as she drove away.