TLC: Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or its characters. They belong to DC, the CW, and Warner Bros.

A/N: This is what I get for spending most days in the last four weeks in the hospital because my father has not been well. I have been thinking of this fic plot for days now, so I thought maybe it's time I penned my ideas down. It's still a long wait until 6x10 airs. I hope you enjoy this one!

Felicity's heart sank as she stepped out of the staff room early that Monday morning just a few days before Christmas. She and her fellow nursing assistants had just been dismissed from the weekly briefing, and she did not like one word of anything that their supervisor had said.

First, everyone was supposed to participate in the "Kris Kringle" among the hospital and medical staff in their respective departments. Even patients who weren't expecting to be discharged from the hospital in time for Christmas were to be included so that they won't feel left out and so that they could "spread the holiday cheer" even to those who wouldn't be spending Christmas at home with their families.

Second, they were all required to wear Christmas-themed scrub suits between now and Christmas Day while they worked their shifts. And just as she was about to reason out that she did not have anything "Christmassy" to wear, her supervisor started handing out two of said holiday scrubs to each one.

When their supervisor asked for two volunteers to work the Christmas Eve shift from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. on Christmas morning, the Asian girl who was Buddhist happily raised her hand, and then went on to volunteer Felicity, adding, "Smoak can do it! She's Jewish." What was wrong with these people? Sure she didn't really celebrate Christmas the way most people do, but she did observe holiday traditions and would love to enjoy a holiday break from work sometime.

To top it all, Felicity was informed that she was being reassigned to another section of the hospital – the orthopedic wing. The news saddened her, for she loved working at the children's section. The doctors and nurses were nicer. And the patients? They were adorable, even those with very serious illnesses and those that were not expected to live long. But her supervisor had said that the orthopedic section was undermanned at the moment, what with one nursing aide going on leave to take care of her own ailing father, and another one who was pregnant and was recently put on complete bedrest for her entire first trimester. It was a good thing the transfer was only temporary, Felicity thought. She could handle adult patients – that's what she said to her supervisor. Yet deep inside her she knew from OJT experience that it was tougher working 12-hour shifts in the ortho section because most patients were not ambulatory. She guessed that many of them would be adults either twice her age or twice her size.

Felicity sighed as she cleared her locker. She picked up her coat, purse, and box of belongings and sauntered down the corridor two floors down from where she had been reporting for work for close to six months. When she arrived at the nursing aides' staff room, she easily found ner new locker because a piece of paper with her name was taped on its door.

She was almost finished fixing her things when someone suddenly spoke up cheerfully at the doorway, catching her by surprise.

"You must be Felicity!"

She turned around and saw a red-haired, heavy-set, middle-aged woman offering her a handshake.

"Hi! Name's Mindy. Welcome to the orthopedic section! Glad to have you on board. It's been pretty hectic here the lately. I've had to pull 24-hour duties twice already the past week. I'm relieved the higher-ups have finally sent reinforcements. Just a heads-up, we're a full house today. Some billionaire's son just got admitted to the last available room after a motorcycle accident last night."

"Hello, Mindy! Thanks, for the warm welcome and for the heads-up," Felicity responded in kind, matching the woman's enthusiasm with her own. Maybe the temporary transfer wasn't going to be as bad as she thought it would be.

"Well then, let's get to work, sweetie!" said Mindy.

Felicity smiled, taking the clipboard that Mindy handed to her. It had a long list of patients waiting for their assistance. She heaved another sigh before closing her locker and leaving the staff room. It was going to be a long twelve hours.

Felicity wasn't complaining, though. She'd completely embraced her present lot. Truth be told, being a nursing assistant hadn't been part of her life's plan. She had dreamed of being an IT specialist ever since her father had discovered her knack for computers and technology when she was six. She had excelled at it up until her senior year in MIT on a full scholarship. But then her mother had gotten sick. End-stage lung cancer with bone metastasis. It had broken her heart. She had to stop schooling and come home to Vegas to take care of her mother. Because they couldn't afford hospice care or a private nurse. Because her mother had no one else but her (since her father abandoned them when she was seven). Because she wanted to be by her mom's side in her last few months. Because despite their many differences in personality and perspective, she loved her mother very much, and she was grateful that her mom had made sacrifices to raise her to be a decent person while working two jobs just to keep them afloat financially. Her mother had needed her badly then, so she had put her own dreams in the backburner, promising herself that one day she would finish her degree and pursue a career in IT as planned. Except, when her mother passed away, she had absolutely no means to support herself, much less her schooling. The little that she and her mother had saved had gone to hospital and medical bills.

A distant aunt had offered help. Aunt Cybil had recently retired from a 35-year nursing career at the Starling City General Hospital with an impeccable service record and had pulled some strings for Felicity to be accepted into the nursing aide training program under a study-now-pay-later arrangement. Felicity had flown to Starling City and completed two six-month training and certification programs that made her eligible for employment at the hospital. When she had begun working, part of her salary had gone to paying for her loan. Felicity had promised herself that she would only be a nursing aide until she saved enough to allow her to finish her degree in IT, even if she had to take her last semester of courses in Starling City University instead of going back to MIT, which she certainly could no longer afford.

She reminisced as she made her way to the first patient on her list.

Oliver Queen.

Oliver Queen!

For some reason, the name had not registered with her when she first went over the paperwork on her clipboard. But now that she was about to knock on his door, she suddenly became nervous. Billionaire-playboy Oliver Queen was on the other side of the door!

The things she had heard on television news and seen on the tabloids while having quick lunches on the food carts on the streets had told her what most people know and think of the man, one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. The handsome hunk could very well be the wealthiest among the eligible bachelor too, if you didn't count his best friend and partner in crime Tommy Merlyn. A few celebrity gossip writers had started writing about Oliver Queen in a different, more positive light upon his return from a hellish island where he had been stranded for five years after the shipwreck on the South China Sea that had claimed the life of his father, Robert Queen, president and CEO of Queen Consolidated. Unfortunately, more reporters and gossip columnists still clung to his partying, womanizing image pre-island, because they believed that more people preferred reading about the scandals that the rich and famous often got themselves entangled with.

Felicity didn't know what to think. She wasn't one to judge, considering she had had her share of misdemeanors back in college when she fraternized with a group of hacktivists during her Goth phase. She decided to withhold judgment until she personally met the man and did an honest appraisal of his character based on evidence.

"Good morning, Mr. Queen!" she greeted him cheerfully at the door. "I'm Felicity Smoak, and I will be your nursing aide from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. today. I'm happy to assist with any-"

Oliver Queen turned from looking out the window to face her. One good look at his face was enough to render her speechless. "Oh, wow! He's even more gorgeous in person. Even with the boo-boos on his face," she thought.

Or so she thought. Because Oliver's response, which was accompanied by a winsome smile, told her that she had just blurted her thoughts out loud.

"So I've been told."

Felicity gasped, utterly humiliated by her lack of brain-to-mouth coordination. "I'm sorry, Mr. Queen. I didn't mean to-"

"You can call me Oliver. Mr. Queen was my father."

"I know. But he's dead. I mean, he drowned. But you didn't. And you're here, on a hospital bed listening to me babble. Which will end… in 3-2-1…"

"Hey, it's okay," Oliver reassured her. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then blew out all the air through her mouth. "So, you're Felicity, and you're my nursing assistant for the day?" It was a simple question for clarification, but she sensed that there was more to his mischievous grin than that.

"Yes, I am. Felicity. Smoak. Nursing assistant. But not for the entire day. Just for the next twelve hours. I do have a life, you know," she replied in sentence fragments.

Nervously, she proceeded to write her name on the board right across the patient's bed, as well as the name of his nurse for the day's shift, and other instructions about his diet and patient care. For some reason, she felt that he was watching while she did so. The sooner she could get it done, the better.

"Is there anything I can help you with now, Mr. Queen? Maybe help you with breakfast, brushing your teeth, changing your hospital gown…" Oh my, that one just put some pretty distracting images in her presently cluttered mind.

"Please, just call me Oliver." He smiled at her.

That did not help at all. Because now the butterflies in her stomach were doing somersaults as if they had limbs.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. Protocol. It's either Mr. Queen or Sir. Take your pick."

He simply smiled even wider. Ugh! What was he trying to do, give her a heart attack? It wasn't fair, even if they were in a state-of-the-art medical facility.

"I'm perfectly fine right now," Oliver replied. "But I'll make sure to call on you if I need help with anything."

"Yes, you can do that, Mr. Queen. Just press the call button right there, and I'll come for you. I'm your girl."

A split-second later, Felicity was blushing like cherry after realizing what she had just said. She was going to squeeze her way out of embarrassment, but Oliver beat her to it.

"I sure hope so," he teased, smiling with his dimple on full display.

Felicity wasted no time leaving Oliver Queen's room. She had never had a patient as handsome and charming as he was, and she was going to be taking care of him up close and personal. She seriously doubted whether her transfer to the orthopedic section was a blessing or a curse.

A/N: I first thought of this fic as just a one-shot, but as I started writing, I decided it couldn't be done. I figured three to five chapters would do it, and I can finish before the holiday break is over. But I don't know... We'll see. What do you think?