Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of Arrow. It belongs to The CW, DC Comics, etc.
A/N: This was my second story in the Arrow universe, and it's one of my favorites. It's an Olicity story, but I think it's got a little twist you might not expect. A few might recognize this story from my Arrow tumblr blog: HoodSmoaked.
To First Meetings & True Friends
A sudden buzzing on the metal tabletop and the chorus of Icona Pop's I Love It startled Felicity Smoak out of the intense focus she had been giving to a particularly stubborn piece of code on the lair computers. Sighing at her break in concentration, the IT expert nearly snorted at the number she saw on her screen, but picked it up anyway.
"Yeah?" she sighed knowingly at the caller.
"Are you wearing what I asked?" he asked quickly and quietly, almost conspiratorially, and she could hear the amused smile in his voice.
Rolling her eyes heavenward in an attempt to fight her own smile, Felicity replied, "Of course, Oliver. I told you I was going to wear it. When you got me coffee this morning, just after that exaggerated show on the salmon ladder. Remember?"
"Good," he concluded simply, and she could tell he had nodded in a single decisive movement. "I'll see you at the office. And don't change out of it!"
"Aye aye, Captain," she answered exasperatedly to his demand, allowing her amusement free reign. It was just no use fighting Oliver Queen when he was like this. Besides, there had been so few happy moments for him in the time they had known each other. Felicity could hardly begrudge him a little amusement — particularly on this day, of all days.
"See you then," he concluded before ending the call, leaving Felicity still amused and increasingly curious why he was so insistent about her wardrobe that day. Oliver never involved himself in what she wore unless there was a charity gala or a social business dinner she asked his advice about, which happened less and less as she attended more of those types of events and learned the style etiquette.
Nevertheless, when Felicity took the elevator up to the executive floor of Queen Consolidated at a quarter to nine, she had done as asked and retained the requested look.
If she hadn't always stayed so late in the building almost daily since being hired, Felicity might have felt fearful and unsafe in the halls at such an hour. As it was, her work and persistence had always kept her going well past closing hours. To her utter embarrassment, after a while it had led to being well known (and dare she say it — respected) among the custodial and security staffers.
As the CEO's executive assistant the past year or so, Felicity had less professional reasons to work after closing time, but she still ended up staying into the wee hours because of Oliver. When he had paperwork to slog through, accounts to investigate, or a business event to plan, Felicity remained behind with him. It was plain as day that Oliver had no love for business or finance. He did it because he had to; because no one else would do it.
After Isabel Rochev had been forced by the courts to sell the illegally-bought five-percent share which had originally pitted her against Oliver, the work at Queen Consolidated had grown wildly for its untrained and inexperienced CEO. Before the discovery of deceit, Oliver had grown more dedicated in his pursuit of justice under the hood. But with Rochev's revelation and Oliver's purchase of the remaining five percent, came business matters that towed back the thinly-stretched hero far more than he appreciated.
Seeing him fight so hard and come up feeling so chained, Felicity couldn't help but give him some company (and often her advice or assistance), working well into the morning with the executive desk and a surface full of papers between them.
Now, sitting at her own desk on the other side of the glass wall, Felicity wondered if Oliver had finished the resource list for the Glades rebuilding project they'd discussed the previous night. Deciding to make a list of her own, just in case her friend and employer had been unable to find time, Felicity pulled up the project outline on her tablet and set to work with good old-fashioned pen and paper. It was when she reached a difficult estimate, half-turned away from the door in her swivel chair, that she heard someone clear their throat.
Snapping up and to the left from her half-made list with a pen hanging from between her lips, Felicity found Oliver in a strangely familiar sweater, standing between her desk and the glass wall which separated his office space from hers.
"Felicity Smoak?" he asked with a neutral expression. Felicity didn't quite know what to make of it as yet, feeling a bit confused as she took the pen out of her mouth.
Until Oliver added, "Hi. I'm Oliver Queen."
Smiling abruptly, Felicity realized exactly what he was doing.
"Of course…" she began to say, recalling the words with easy clarity. They had become engraved on her mind. "I know who you are, you're… Mr. Queen."
"No," Oliver drew the word out a bit, clearly trying not to smile, "Mr. Queen was my father."
"Right, but he's dead," she continued fondly, still blushing when she remembered her ridiculous responses that day. "I mean he drowned… but you didn't. Which means you could come down to the IT department. And listen to me babble…"
Felicity could actually see Oliver biting the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. Blushing deeper, Felicity went on doggedly, "Which will end, in 3… 2, 1. "
Taking a moment to gather himself (in which time Felicity was able to oust some of the redness on her cheeks), Oliver finally continued the game with a lingering smile.
To Felicity's absolute shock, the silly man produced a black laptop from behind his back, looking almost precisely the same as the one she remembered, bullet holes and all. The only difference was the model style.
"I'm having some trouble with my computer and they told me that you were the person to come and see."
He set the busted piece of technology on her desk with a certain flourish he had not had the first time around, making her snort quietly.
"I was at my coffee shop surfing the web," he carried on with admirable neutrality in spite of his obvious enthusiasm, "and I spilt a latte on it."
"Really?" Felicity asked laughingly, incapable of reigning in her amusement at that idiotic old story.
"Yeah," Oliver nodded, lips tight.
"'Cause these look like… bullet holes." She made a silly face as she glanced at the very real bullet marks in the hard casing, pretending to investigate them.
"My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood," was Oliver's blasé reply, bringing another snort out of the IT expert as she stared up at him with fond humor. Allowing his growing smile to show, the billionaire added pleasantly, "If there is anything that you can salvage from it… I would really appreciate it."
Unable to hold back any longer, Felicity laughed out loud, bending forward to happily grasp Oliver's hands where they hung by his sides.
"I really do think you should try and salvage this one," Oliver chuckled, squeezing her hands in his own and bending forward to kiss the top of her head amiably. "Not that there's anything on it, since it's brand new… but I felt kind of bad having John shoot the poor thing like that."
Laughing again, Felicity pulled away to examine the mutilated laptop and assess a rough time frame for repair.
"Well, the good news is that it isn't totaled entirely," she shook her head exasperatedly after a minute, "but the bad news is that it won't ever have a full recovery."
"Well, I guess we can toast the laptop that died in honor of our first meeting," Oliver replied gladly, bringing Felicity's eyes back to him as he pulled out a bottle of wine which had already been uncorked.
"Oh, you know me so well," she sighed in joy. "Merlot?"
"Not even close," Oliver countered, a grin on his face as he turned the bottle label to face her.
"Lafite!" Felicity practically shouted, suddenly on the edge of her seat. "Lafite Rothschild 1982! Oh, God, please tell me I can have some of that right now? That is seriously magical and delicious. I mean do you even know how much I have been craving that stupid wine ever since you promised me a bottle?"
Laughing at her rambling excitement, Oliver reached over and pulled two wine glasses from behind her overfull file basket.
"Your wish is my command," he offered with a slight bow, pouring a rather full glass and handing it over to her before he poured one for himself. Felicity was almost vibrating in her seat she was so excited to taste the long-promised wine.
"To first meetings," she led the toast, smiling at her heroic friend as she tapped his glass with her own.
Sharing her warm expression, Oliver added more softly, "And true friends."
Feeling a bit pink in the face, Felicity looked away and into the swirl of rich red liquid in her glass. One sip and she was in heaven. It was the kind of flavor one never forgot and rarely obtained, and she wasn't going to rush it.
Oliver became less involved after a minute, seeming distracted by something of a sudden, and Felicity wondered what had grasped his attention so abruptly.
"Oliver?" she inquired concernedly, reaching out to touch his raised forearm.
"I have something to ask you," he responded quietly to her query, laying his free hand to cover hers where it lay.
"Ask away," Felicity encouraged him confidently, setting aside her glass when Oliver did.
"We've known each other for a while now," he began cautiously, fidgeting uncharacteristically. "I know this will seem… abrupt… and not well-thought-out, but I promise you I know exactly what I'm doing."
The surprise and confusion showed on her face, that much Felicity knew, but even if she hadn't known, Oliver's affectionate expression proved the point admirably.
"My mother asked me to get something in our vault repaired a few days ago," he went on to say, squeezing Felicity's hand, "and it made me think about something I'd thought lost to me. Now… Well, I don't think it's lost anymore. At least I hope not."
Sucking in a gulp of air, Oliver moved between his feet for a moment, finally deciding to slip down on his knee for a less awkward position. Felicity now looked down at his handsome face, immediately scolding herself for the thought.
"You and I have never dated," he stated, confusing Felicity further. It wasn't like him to discuss relationships in such a way, even with her. "Even so, I can't think of a more natural choice…"
So saying, Oliver pulled something from his pocket and lifted it up for her eyes to see.
Felicity's mouth dropped open in total shock when she saw the little black velvet box sitting in the palm of his calloused hand.
"Felicity," he pressed forward, growing quieter and yet stronger, more determined. "We aren't together. We haven't spent nights whispering in each other's ear. We haven't kissed. And we haven't touched each other as anything more than friends. But you never had to touch me to affect me."
There were tears in her eyes, Felicity realized, but she didn't care. How this average day had ended up becoming what it now was, she had no idea, but it was one of the luckiest days she'd ever had.
"I love you," Oliver stated plainly, unashamedly, opening the box to reveal an antique gold ring with two opposing rubies flanked by two opposing emeralds. "We've come to this point by simply knowing each other. By being each other's best friend through all of the hell we face night and day. I can imagine it, Felicity. You and I, living life as more than just a pair of friends. As lovers, partners, equals…"
With tears falling unchecked, Felicity watched in awe as Oliver pulled the ring from its nestled resting spot and lifted her hand.
"Felicity Smoak, will you do me the honor of being my best friend, my lover, my partner, and my equal? Will you be my wife?"
Gasping through a sob, Felicity nodded without words, her world coming into its rightful orbit as the ring slipped onto her finger.
Without another word, she threw herself down and into Oliver's powerful arms, whispering the one thing she could think of to say.
"I always thought I'd babble it out in front of you before you ever realized," she said with great amusement.
Snorting loudly, Oliver just held her closer and said, "I'm glad you wore what I asked. Because I always loved that ponytail and peach blouse."
Laughing and crying simultaneously, Felicity reached up to kiss him again, hardly caring when Oliver pulled her hair out of a coveted ponytail in order to kiss her that much more thoroughly.
-The End-