There are some things you don't expect to see on a Friday night.

Oliver Queen with bright pink toenails is one of them.

The week started on a high. Sure, it was going to be an insanely busy week, but Felicity's prepared for that, and she'd had the anticipation of a girls night in on Friday. It wasn't their usual Friday activity, but with everything feeling so tense lately, they'd decided it was needed. Laurel, Thea and Lyla were an unmovable force when they put their mind to something, and a girls night in was no different.

To tell the truth, Felicity was in desperate need of a girls night in. There were some pains in life that could only be healed by simultaneous girlish laughter, ice cream, trashy movies and several bottles of wine. There was something harmonic in female company when the world felt a little too heavy, and this week? Heavy was an understatement. So she needed to mourn the loss of her favourite heels (now broken) from Tuesday's trip down the stairs, she needed to don her pyjamas to cover up the bruise of smacking her hip into the table edge on Thursday and she absolutely needed to forget all about everything that happened on Wednesday. Just all of it.

So she was disappointed when the first text message came in from Thea. An emergency came up that she had to deal with. Felicity couldn't even blame her for that, she was working hard to get her club up and running again.

Laurel's message came mid-afternoon. A new case came up that would need her entire focus over the weekend. Lyla's message came ten minutes after, John was out of town and Sara was running a fever.

No problem, maybe another time, she'd replied to each of them.

She tried not to be disappointed; they were all viable excuses after all, but Felicity just needed a night. A night to let loose. A night to forget about how crazy her life was. A girls night. But that wasn't on the cards any more for that night, so when Oliver turned up at the foundry to switch shifts with her at six o'clock, his whispered 'enjoy girls night' had been met with a small scoff as she left the building.

Which lead them to eight o'clock and confused Felicity staring at a very overwhelmed Oliver Queen on her doorstep.

She'd just got into her pyjamas, ordered her pizza, and planned to spend a night alternating between relaxing in the bath and reading her book in bed. Sounded like a solid plan to her. Except then the doorbell was ringing and Oliver was there and why was Oliver there, exactly?

"I'm sorry to intrude on...whatever it is you're doing," he mumbled. "But you seemed disappointed earlier, and I know it's been a terrible week with...well, everything, and I-"

"Oliver," she cut him off, a little exhaustion creeping into her voice as she leaned on the door frame. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for girls night," he explained, flashing her his most charming smile.

"You're...what?" she blinked.

His arm shifted to let the duffel bag slip from his shoulder to his arm, and he opened it. "I've got movies - which I stole from Thea, and snacks, and ice cream - which might be melting so you should definitely freeze this, and several bottles of wine, mostly wine, in fact." He looked up at her dumbfounded expression.

For one of very few times in her life, Felicity Smoak was speechless.

Oliver's face crossed into a look of concern, suddenly aware that he may have intruded on her privacy perhaps a little too much, and he looked guilty. "Is this...okay?" he asked her. "I bought pyjamas, if that helps?"

He tugged on some fabric inside the bag to demonstrate that he really did bring pyjamas, which looked to be sweat pants and an old t-shirt, but Felicity just spoke a single word. "Why?"

"Well, because technically I sleep naked, but that would be inappropriate pyjamas in this situation, so-"

"No, why are you doing this?" she asked again.

His concern dropped into something softer, something boyish and proud. "You looked really disappointed when you left earlier, so I talked to Thea and found out your plans got cancelled," he explained. "But you also said yesterday that you really needed this night, so I didn't want you to miss out on it."

Despite years of having a crush on her boss/partner/friend, Felicity would always pinpoint this moment, that smile, and that admission to the exact second that she completely fell for Oliver.

After an extremely grateful hug in the doorway, she had eventually invited him in. Her pizza arrived a few minutes later, her bath was forgotten about, and the wine was opened. It was interesting to test his knowledge of girls nights, which Thea had seemingly given him a crash-course in. He'd rather dutifully sank into the space between the couch and the coffee table with her, dining on the pizza which they shared in front of Pretty Woman, The Vow and The Notebook.

She didn't care that he was seeing her without make up, without hair done to perfection, in nothing but her rattiest pair of pyjamas and severely fluffy socks. This was entertaining enough. Oliver's participation wasn't just to humour her, it was more than enthusiastic.

She'd had a hard time keeping her face still from laughing when he had his head leaned back and a bright yellow peel-off face mask covering his skin, complaining that she didn't have any cucumber to complete the day spa experience. When she had given in and laughed, cracking her mask, he'd reacted by smearing some of his mask across her neck.

Halfway through The Vow, they'd propped their feet up on the coffee table and discussed the finer points of Channing Tatum as she painted their toenails. Felicity, after a bottle of red wine so far, had no trouble commenting on the size of Oliver's feet, nor did she resist from leaning over his legs to get to his other foot. Oliver let her, drunkenly playing with her hair as he told her that Channing Tatum suffered for his art and tried to guess what his workout routine would be.

During The Notebook, the alcohol took over. The space beside Felicity on the couch was thick with tissues, and halfway through Oliver decided to lay out behind her on the couch, and - Dear God - they were spooning in front of The Notebook.

But by the end of the movie, Oliver's head lifted quickly with what she liked to refer to as his kicked puppy expression. "What? What? They're the old couple?" he asked, his voice cracked and his eyes shining a little. "So they just...what? It was him all along? It wasn't a story."

"It was his memoir, because of her memory," she said, her own voice raw from her near hysterical sobbing for the last ten minutes of the movie.

"That's a stupid ending. Totally not fair. Life isn't fair." Oliver slumped back down to the arm of the couch, his head knocking against Felicity's but neither of them were complaining. He remained slumped in his drunken depression for half the credits before she was twisting in the tiny space on the couch, landing her hands crushed between their chests as she looked at him.

"This was a really nice thing you did for me tonight," she told him, ignoring the fact that she was slurring her words just a little. Just enough to be totally honest.

"You looked sad earlier. I want you to be happy," he said, and if he had room in the tiny space he might have shrugged, but instead he just shuffled down a little and put his arms around her so she didn't fall off the couch.

"That's cheesy," she snickered into his chest.

"I was taking notes during the movies. Shh, don't tell anyone," he whispered, and she laughed despite herself, her post-Notebook teary face getting wiped over his t-shirt.

"You always surprise me," she remarked out loud, and his response was to hum and embrace her more tightly.

"This was my...grand gesture," he explained. "My fall-in-love-with-me-please movie moment."

He must have been really drunk to tell her that, because after just a few seconds they had both descended into uncontrollable giggles at the idea.

"Do all your grand gestures involve nail polish and skin care?" she teased him, slipping her arm around his waist to get more comfortable.

"Only the really special ones," he grinned back, she could feel the movement against the top of her head. "Did it work? As a gesture?"

"Yeah," she said more quietly, "It was such a good gesture, I think they'd have Channing Tatum play you in the movie of this night."

He pulled his head back and gave her a shocked look, and within moments they were laughing and falling back into the space between the couch and the coffee table, Felicity trapped on her back with Oliver leaning over her. "Oh, Channing Tatum's got nothing on me…"