It was common knowledge that Felicity Smoak was not a morning person. What was less publicly known was that she made an exception on Snow Days. Growing up in one of the warmest, driest places in America, Las Vegas, she always coveted the beautiful white weather and was jealous of the kids who got to frolic in it. Attending college in Boston, she finally had the opportunity to experience the slush, the powder and an occasional white-out first-hand, but this only increased her fondness for it. Felicity was always the first one up in her dorm, keen to walk out on the quad during the early quiet moments when the snow was still perfect, undisturbed by footprints.
Now Felicity lived in Starling City, but had yet to experience a major snowfall. She had heard reports of an expected storm, but paid little attention due to the distraction of work. The tech genius was employed by Queen Consolidated as a Senior IT Consultant and had spent the previous evening compiling a series of useless reports for her neurotic boss. Apparently, he had got it into his head that he might be fired soon and was desperately overcompensating with work product. Felicity had to bear the weight of his insecurity.
Happily, today was Saturday. Felicity woke late from a restful sleep in her cozy apartment and was delighted to see white blanketing the ground and the graceful trees that lined her street. A snow shower was currently taking place. It looked like 10 inches had fallen already – enough to make things interesting.
Felicity ate breakfast while enjoying the view out the window, deciding on her strategy for clearing her buried Mini which was parked in the driveway beside her brownstone. Thoughts strayed to her neighbor, Mrs. Klein. The elderly woman would require help clearing her steps. Felicity's eyes drifted over to Mrs. Klein's house. There was already someone in a red puffer jacket shoveling the old lady's walk. Felicity smiled and took her breakfast dishes to the sink.
Sixty minutes and several frantic phone calls from her boss (still worried about work) and her Mom ("Honey, I heard there was a blizzard in Starling") later, Felicity finally managed to leave her house, bundled up in a cute purple North Face jacket and matching snow pants. She had donned her favorite crazy snow hat and gloves to complete the ensemble. Now it was time to clear off her car.
Felicity stopped short on her top step when she saw the back of the red jacket again, as the figure tidied a pile of snow that had been made from clearing from her front walk. She glanced over and her car had been liberated as well.
"Hey!" she called. "You didn't have to do that. Thanks though!" Felicity took a step closer, descending.
The figure, obviously a man, turned around and nodded. "No problem." His voice was deep and masculine, swaddled under a wooly scarf, ski goggles, and a black toque.
"Let me get you some money. Twenty?" Felicity pivoted towards her door.
"No, that's okay, really."
"Did Mrs. Klein pay you?"
The swaddled man tilted his head curiously for a moment, processing the question.
Felicity continued, "Mrs. Klein is the lady across the street with the garden gnome army." She walked down her stairs and headed toward the man.
"She gave me cookies." The man grinned and produced a bag from the pocket of his jacket. "Unnecessary. Honestly, I just felt like coming out and…"
Did his body language indicate that he was a little nervous? Felicity shook off the idea and instead lit up. "Playing in the snow?"
"You caught me." He chuckled. "I just moved in two doors down." He waved to indicate the direction. That was when Felicity noticed the color of his mouth seemed a bit off.
"How long have you been outside? You look a little blue."
The man raised a glove to rub his lips.
"Not long."
"I'm pretty sure you've been out here for at least an hour." There was a long pause, during which time Felicity regarded him carefully.
"My name is Felicity." She beamed, her light bouncing off the white lawn.
"Felicity. Hi. I'm Oliver." He couldn't help but smile back.
Felicity blinked a few times because the man should definitely never stop smiling and she needed to process.
"Nice to meet you, Oliver. Umm…would you like to come in for coffee? Maybe defrost a little." She adopted a casual tone and motioned back toward her house with a little thumb motion.
"That's really generous, Felicity. But you don't have to…"
"Hey," Felicity smiled. "I don't want to toot my own horn, but I do make the best coffee in the neighborhood. And your lips are actually turning blue."
"Well," the man was obviously conflicted. Then, his internal struggle ended with a grin as he noticed how blue her eyes were, flashing behind her nerdy eyeglasses. "Okay, but only if you help me eat these cookies."
"Deal," she smiled, backing up to her door.
xxXXxx
The first thing Felicity noticed about her neighbor when he entered her place was that he was huge. Not like that. Well, maybe like that. She couldn't really tell. But his body, bundled in winter gear, filled the door frame. His clothing was glistening with melting moisture.
"Oh," was all she said.
Oliver then watched with curiosity as Felicity moved quickly, like a hummingbird, pulling him into the foyer, turning on the gas fireplace in the adjacent living room, then assembling some dining chairs in front of it.
"You can put your things on the chairs to dry them off."
Felicity guided Oliver into the next room. Felicity began removing her outside clothes, stripping down to a layer of yoga pants and a flannel shirt. Oliver couldn't stop himself from watching her, expectantly waiting to discover what was underneath the bulky layers.
Nearby, he removed each article slowly, pausing occasionally - first, goggles, then gloves, then his hat. Felicity took them quickly and turned away, draping them on one of the chairs to dry.
When she turned back, he was moving, shucking off his coat, revealing a tan Henley shirt that was wet and clinging to his very muscular form. He had beautiful muscle definition, she thought to herself before closing her eyes and willing her mouth to keep its thoughts to itself. She did not want to babble in front of a new neighbor.
"Just a second," Felicity announced. Oliver watched her rush out of the room.
He took a moment to take in his surroundings. Quirky. Colorful. Felicity obviously liked Robin Hood, as indicated by a poster on the wall, as well as technology, if the pile of computer parts on a nearby desk was actually hers. Her home was warm – not just temperature-wise, which was a relief to his cold skin – it had a warm vibe. Not like where he grew up. Not like his new apartment, full of brand new furniture and few personal items. He pulled off his boots and set them by the fire, which despite being gas, was throwing off a lot of heat.
When Felicity returned, she was holding a t-shirt she had received from the office Secret Santa last Christmas. It was four times too big for her and emblazoned with the Queen Consolidated Applied Sciences logo on it.
"Here." She sounded breathless and tried to avoid looking at him. "You might want to take off your shirt. I mean, just take it off to put this on while your other shirt dries." Ah, the babbling barn door had cracked opened. Felicity tossed the garment at her guest before moving into the kitchen. She hoped that her nervousness would subside. All the while, she avoided looking him in the eye, worried she might be caught ogling as well.
Oliver watched her skitter away, quickly taking in her delicate features and feminine form. Yoga was working for her.
The kitchen was a perfect space, a happy place, a retreat where Felicity felt more at home than she had ever expected. She summoned her nerves to lay still and set about the task of creating a perfect pot of coffee. Cold, filtered water and perfect measurement of freshly ground beans. Making coffee was a ritual for her. She kept working when she heard his voice coming from the living room.
"So, Felicity. You work at Queen Consolidated?" his voice called from the other room as he peeled off his wet shirt. It was odd to hear a man's deep tone reverberating through her place. She had a few male visitors over the past couple of years, but none were…what would her mother say? Hunks. The glimpses of him that she had stolen while trying to appear casual were pretty impressive so far. She hadn't even focused on his face yet, but figured that was inevitable over coffee.
"How could you tell?" she chirped back. "Do I have the pallor of an overworked drone, crushed by the corporate machine?"
"Well," and then suddenly his voice was moving closer, "actually the shirt was a clue."
Felicity turned around and suddenly felt like she had the wind knocked out of her. Was it because the shirt fit him like a sexy glove, molded tightly against his powerful biceps and straining across his muscular torso? Was it because his face was so perfect – a mix of classic good looks with a slight tinge of danger around his mouth. Or was it because…
"Oh FRACK." Felicity looked him up and down one last time. "You're Oliver…QUEEN."
She could see him flinch immediately. Felicity hadn't meant to sound so accusatory. She was just completely thrown. Everyone in Starling City knew who Oliver Queen was. She had heard of him even before she moved to town. And now he was the Executive Vice President of Operations at the company his family built and their name, his name, towered above the city.
"Afraid so," he responded, looking a little guilty to be him at that moment. He noticed that she had put her hair up in a ponytail that made her look kind of adorable.
"Not that there's anything wrong with you being…you. You being you is fine. You are fine. And I don't mean fine like fiiiine, although I am sure you hear that all the time…" She blushed a little at her babble and turned to flip the coffee maker to "on."
Oliver stifled an inclination to chuckle.
"No, it's just I had no idea that you were, you know. I wouldn't have expected you to live on my street, of all places. I thought you lived in a castle or something." Felicity buzzed around the kitchen, assembling mugs and other necessities for when the coffee was ready. She was still avoiding eye contact.
"Yeah, I used to live in a ma…large house. Then I turned 30 and realized I should probably not live with my Mom anymore."
"Cramping your style, huh? I totally understand. I have a mother." Suddenly her mind conjured the ridiculous picture of her mother, a peacock-like cocktail waitress standing beside Moira Queen, doyenne of Starling City. Basically, the only things they had in common were blonde hair. Felicity laughed.
Oliver wasn't sure what had made her laugh, but he liked the sound of it. He hoped to make her laugh himself before their visit ended.
"Actually, I had been working in our Asian offices for a few years and when I came back it felt right to get my own place." Why was he telling her this? Right, she was clever and light. Easy to talk to. Not like the gold-diggers he met at his best friend's Tommy Merlyn's nightclub or the super serious ladies his mother tried to fix him up with on a weekly basis. "Which department do you work in? I would have thought we'd met."
Felicity laughed again. He still liked the sound of it.
When she saw the confused look on his face, she stifled herself.
"Of course we've never met. I'm like 4 management levels removed from you at the office. I work in IT. I am the person who fixes things when an executive reformats their hard drive or…spills a latte on their laptop."
Oliver considered her a moment and then his expression dropped. He raised his hand to cover his face.
"I did that. With the latte."
Felicity leaned back against her sink. "Yuppp."
"And you fixed it. Miracle worker!" Oliver's face brightened.
"Only took four hours," she said with a sing-song tone to her voice as she grinned at him.
"I should have come down and thanked you." Oliver angled himself against the doorway, folding his arms across his chest in a way that made Felicity's heart flutter a little. "It was my second week back and I was so slammed. I meant to stop down and then I lost track. Or maybe I was just embarrassed."
"That's okay," she waved her hand in the air. "I was just doing my job. Like you do yours. Nobody comes by to thank you for doing your job, do they?"
"I guess not. But now I'm here and you're making me coffee. That seems wrong. I owe you a coffee, or probably fifty coffees."
"I don't know. I'm pretty picky when it comes to my coffee."
Oliver accepted her tease with a smirk that usually got a positive reaction from the ladies. He watched Felicity's eyes dart away and sweep across the kitchen floor. Then she raised her gaze again.
"Well, you can start by sharing your cookies."
xxXXXxx
By 1 pm, their coffee drifted into lunch. Felicity was a little embarrassed by the lack of food in her house, explaining that Saturday was shopping day and that on Sundays she cooked for the upcoming week. But her guest didn't mind. Oliver was happy to nosh on salad and a turkey sandwich she'd cobbled together from leftover bits in her fridge. He had enjoyed watching her make it too – leaning against the refrigerator and occasionally stealing a glance at her delightfully curvaceous ass. They sat in front of the fireplace eating their food. As Oliver happily warmed his feet near the hearth and sipped water from a vintage Batman jelly glass he would have coveted when he was 10, he noted how nice it was to get a new perspective on life through someone else's eyes.
Felicity told him all about growing up in Las Vegas. Whether she was describing her first (and nearly last) experience counting cards at the Golden Nugget with giddy excitement or talking quietly about how her father left when she was seven years old, she did so with honesty and a kind of vividness that connected hard with a place in him that usually stayed hidden. Oliver found himself really liking Felicity Smoak.
So he was honest back, entertaining Felicity with tales of growing up with paparazzi stalkers and a privileged youth he had mostly taken for granted. He explained that he had recently spent time on a do-over.
"What's that?" she mumbled through her sandwich. She had finally relaxed around him enough to eat like regular person.
"A do-over means that I went back to a place where my parents took us when I was a kid…a place I didn't appreciate at the time. Like the Great Wall or a lighthouse on Montauk."
"So where did you go?"
"Australia."
"All by yourself? Like a walkabout?" Felicity leaned in, casually petting the fur on her bedroom slippers.
"Yeah. I just took a camper out into the bush for a few days. It was amazing."
"Wow."
"Looking up into the sky at night…it's breathtaking. It's so enormous and because you are away from the city, it's just full of stars." Oliver stared into the fire dancing beside them. "And I realized that I could feel really small, like this tiny, tiny insignificant speck. Or I could feel a part of it. A part of this massive…everything. Earlier in my life, I would have gone with the first thing because it was all I knew. But now, being older and having met people from all over and accomplished a couple of things in my life, I had a choice and I went with the second thing. I wanted to be…connected in the world, I guess." Oliver glanced over and saw Felicity nodding, a look of understanding on her face.
Eventually, Felicity told Oliver about her days at MIT. She admitted that she never seemed to fit in, but he countered that it was because special people couldn't help but stand out. She blushed a little and then launched into a whole "thing" on her area of expertise - cybersecurity. Felicity hoped to start her own consulting company one day and Oliver had little doubt that she would do it.
As the day rolled on, Oliver mentioned that he needed to go to the market for Mrs. Klein – a promise made that morning. He offered to pick up some things for Felicity as well. It was a gallant move and Felicity agreed, compiling a surprising lengthy list written on the outside of an envelope.
Preparing to head back out in his snow clothes, Oliver made a point to strip off the QC t-shirt just as Felicity walked back into the living room. He waited a short beat before donning his now-dry Henley, but it was plenty of time to see the flash in Felicity's eyes that told him all the hours he spent working out with John Diggle at his gym were not wasted. Oliver tucked the shopping list into his coat pocket and headed out with a spring in his step while Felicity went to the sink to splash cool water on her face.
xxXXXxx
The snow had stopped for now, but the roads weren't good. Felicity was relieved when Oliver returned a couple of hours later with bags of groceries and a bonus of Chinese takeout. She missed out on watching him take off his winter togs this time, too busy putting away her perishables.
That night they ate in front of the TV. Sitting side by side on her upholstered sofa, they watched "House of Cards" and drank a particularly nice bottle of red that Oliver had brought from his house. There was something heady in the close proximity of their bodies that made Felicity's breath hitch from time to time. Meanwhile, Oliver was mesmerized by a wisp of blonde hair that refused to be tamed behind her porcelain ear. It was all he could do to keep from touching it once the wine relaxed his nerves.
Around midnight, they both got quiet. Oliver rose and began putting his winter layers on again while Felicity cleared the empty glasses and washed dishes in the sink. Then she felt a warm hand wrap around her upper arm and his weight behind her as he leaned to press a soft kiss against her cheek. It lingered a few moments longer than expected.
"Good night, Felicity," he breathed into her ear. "Thank you. Definitely the best coffee on the block." He gave her arm a final squeeze and then he was out the door. This left Felicity to stare into the dying bubbles in the sink below as she contemplated how surreal and almost perfect her day had been.
xxXXXxx
It snowed another two inches overnight. That was the weather news Felicity read on her tablet while lounging in her comfy bed.
Minutes later, she headed to the kitchen wrapped in her fuzzy cloud robe and began to make the coffee, measuring a little extra. Just in case. When she flipped the Mister Coffee on switch she noticed the sound of scraping out front. Rushing to the door, she saw Oliver clearing her walk again. A hard and wide smile crossed her face. He looked so handsome – his skin ruddy with cold, another day of scruff roughly decorating his fine jaw.
When Oliver noticed the woman standing on the other side of a storm door swaddled in her bathrobe robe, he stopped and grinned. Then he gave her a goofy wave and returned to the last of his labors.
Inside the house, Felicity padded to the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair. Then she exerted great effort choosing an outfit that looked effortless. Felicity was just sitting on her bed pulling on her socks when she heard a rustling at her front door. She had left it unlocked so he would let himself in when he was ready.
Felicity straightened her glasses and headed to greet her guest. The sight of him moving into her living room, tugging off his knit cap and gloves was surprisingly overwhelming and made her stop short as she entered the room. His eyelashes had flurries caught in them and his face was red from the cold burn of the January wind.
"Good morning, Felicity," he smiled with a huff, slightly out of breath from his outdoor exertions.
"Hey," she murmured. Oliver was taking his coat off when he noticed that his hostess was still standing still in the opposite doorway.
"Uh, are you okay?"
Felicity paused a moment. "Nope." Then, for emphasis, she shook her head.
Oliver's face reflected concern now as he moved into the room and dropped his parka on the back of a chair. "What is it?"
He watched her face rise and her eyes met his. Then, it was like a switch flipped inside her. Felicity strode toward him and then reached up to wrap her arm around his neck. Suddenly, her lips were on his, soft heat thawing out his cold, stiff mouth. It felt incredible and drew an unexpected moan from the back of his throat. He drew her closer, enveloping her back in his arms and pulling her closer.
Oliver's tongue sought entry against her lips and he was relieved when she complied eagerly. The blonde started off gently gliding her tongue against his, but soon they were exploring each other hungrily. When they were compelled to separate for air, Oliver simply shifted his attention to her neck. He buried his cold nose into her hair, inhaling coconut and vanilla, while his mouth worshiped the soft skin that curved into her shoulder.
She whimpered his name. Oliver. Felicity melted against his attentive kisses and she nearly swooned when he licked her collarbone. She slid one of her hands to the back of his head so her fingers could rake through his short hair while the other clung to his bicep for support. Meanwhile, one of his hands cupped her jaw and the other was locked tight against her waist.
Due to his close proximity, Oliver felt Felicity's giggle before he heard it. He disengaged from her neck and planted a couple of kisses on her mouth before stopping and rubbing his cool nose against hers.
"What is it?" he panted through a smile.
"I was just wondering..."
"What?"
"Well, I noticed you staring at my butt…maybe a couple of times yesterday and I was just wondering when…" Felicity reached back to take Oliver's hand from her back and she guided it downward. Her eyes locked on his and she watched his reaction as his palm slid around her ass. His jaw went slack for a moment and his eyes closed. He squeezed. Once.
Felicity responded with tiny, breathy "Oh." That was all it took. Oliver sought out her lips again and this time the kiss was desperate and demanding.
xxXXXxx
Despite having had a handful of respectably pleasant boyfriends in the past, Felicity had never been carried to bed until that Sunday morning. Oliver Queen made it look effortless, of course, which was exhilarating.
The logical part of her brain, the one that aced her SATs and sent her to MIT told her that she had only known this man for 24 hours and what she was doing was uncharacteristically impulsive. But then she did some simple calculations and determined that they had basically spent the equivalent of three, possibly four fantastic dates together. They just happened to have taken place consecutively in one day. Felicity felt like she knew him, and more importantly, she had let him get to know her. And now his strength and calm were making her feel safe and keen to explore an aspect of her humanity that had been dormant for a while.
After Oliver lowered her onto the mattress, he tugged his shirt over his head and a ray of sunlight through the window glinted across his muscled skin. It was then she decided that daylight could be as erotic as night time and candles.
"Wait a second," she said, breathlessly. "I'm taking a mental picture so I can recall…this," she waved toward his torso, "when I'm old or if I need it to restart my heart at some point."
Oliver might have blushed, but he definitely chuckled. A moment later, his eyes danced with appreciation as he watched Felicity peel her top off as well. She momentarily searched for his reaction and received it when he licked his lips and crawled onto the mattress, removing the distance between them. He pulled the tie from her hair and placed it carefully on the bedside table. Soon, his fingers were sinking into soft blonde silk and he was breathing her air.
Although they had started the morning in a frenzy of heat and want, things slowed down. They shared deep, languid kisses. Oliver surprised her again by seeking permission at every step. Sometimes with words, sometimes subtle gestures, or needful looks. Could he touch her breasts? Could he taste them? Were his teeth too much? He couldn't remember a woman that inspired such cautiousness in him. But this one was special. He just knew it. And he didn't want to fuck it up.
When his hands sought approval to explore her thighs, Felicity answered enthusiastically by pulling her pants off and tossing them to the floor. This left her in a pair of fuchsia bikini underwear. She adopted what she hoped would be interpreted as a welcoming pose. Then, she broke it, pivoting to open her bedside table drawer. Oliver observed, curious.
Felicity quickly extracted condoms and a bottle of lube, arranging them carefully on the corner of the table. Then, she took off her glasses and placed them nearby. Finally, she re-struck her pose with a saucy smile.
Oliver kind of adored her at that moment. The best way to express approval was to lunge forward and litter her thighs with kisses until he reached her hip.
"I want to compliment you, but my brain kind of seized up a minute ago and I've lost the ability to use...so many words," she sighed, stroking his shoulder.
He grinned, slipped his fingers into the elastic of her silk panties and reverently maneuvered them down her precious legs. Then, he ran his thumbs up her thighs and didn't stop until they reached the center of her arousal, warm and wet. He teased her for a little while and then his finger slipped easily inside her eliciting a throaty moan. He took his time, enjoying the babble that she offered up. It ranged from esoteric to filthy and he found it quite entertaining. Finally unable to contain his pleasure at watching her writhe and buck beneath him, Oliver captured her mouth with a growl.
Feeling Oliver's tongue stroking her palate at the same time his fingers were thrusting into her was all Felicity needed to coax her release. She screamed his name twice when she came apart and a single tear slid down her face. Oliver wondered if she did that every time and decided he would really like to find out.
Moments later, she was whispering, "Now you" and suddenly Felicity's hands were on his chest. "May I?" She looked up at him, her soft lips swollen and eyes shining.
"Anything," he exhaled.
xxXXXxx
Sunday morning melted into the Sunday afternoon. They lay twisted in her lilac-colored sheets talking and touching for what seemed like hours.
"Oliver, how did you end up clearing my sidewalk yesterday?"
He almost didn't hear her since he was completely distracted by the mysterious shape of her belly button. "Um…Mrs. Klein told me the young woman across the street might need to be…plowed." He said it with a straight face. Felicity blinked a moment, and then giggled while feigning outrage and gingerly smacking his glorious ass. Only then did Oliver deploy his signature smirk.
Eventually, Felicity bundled up and padded to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. Waiting for it to brew, she drifted into the living room and found Oliver there. He had switched on the fireplace and stood beside it, enjoying the cozy flames. He held out his hand to her and they ended up making love on her robe, warmed by the hearth. When they were finished, Oliver separated from her and they rested on their backs, breathless and slippery with sweat.
"Remarkable," he panted.
"Mm hmm," she purred back.
"No, you." He closed his eyes. She couldn't stop the edges of her mouth from turning upward.
xxXXXxx
As the evening drew to a close, a faraway look overtook Oliver. Felicity noticed right away. Eventually, he took her hand and kissed it. Then he moved away from her and dressed. Felicity pulled on her flannel shirt and followed him to the living room. She helped him on with his coat and handed him his hat and gloves. He headed to the door and she tugged his arm, effectively stopping him. She rose on her tip toes and gently kissed his cheek. She pressed her lips together tight in a smile.
"Good night, Felicity," he said, quietly. He headed out into the cold night, his feet packing down the snow with each step.
xxXXXxx
That night, Felicity changed the sheets on her bed. Then she crawled into the covers and had a serious conversation with herself. It was important to remember that she and Oliver had been in a bubble. It had been a perfect, magical weekend, but it wasn't real life. Not her real life, anyway.
Tomorrow, Oliver Queen would be her boss again, not her boyfriend. He would be the heir to the Queen fortune and the de facto CEO of an international corporation. And she would go back to being a badass IT guru, running rings around her peers and saving the day like she always did. And she might see him on the news smiling with a leggy model, or worse, she might pass him in the hall and he wouldn't acknowledge her. All of these things could happen.
As she stared up at her dark ceiling, she thought about an inky sky dotted with millions of stars. Tonight she could choose whether to feel like a tiny sequestered speck or to be part of everything. Images of the moments she shared with Oliver flashed in Felicity's mind and she realized there was no choice to make.
xxXXXxx
Today was Thursday. Felicity had fallen back into her regular routines now that the weather had turned more temperate and the snow was disappearing from the sidewalks. Her Mini was maneuvering well on the Starling City streets, but she was still grateful to be able to park in the Queen Consolidated building garage.
Felicity Smoak, ninja troubleshooter, entered the IT department with her usual clicking heels and set jaw. Over the last couple of days, people had simply lost their minds with their company-issued devices. The weekend snow storm had infected several executives with cabin fever and this had compelled them to visit websites of the adult nature (purely by accident) that had left their laptops and smartphones with viruses. Felicity considered that computer viruses were certainly preferable to actual STDs and congratulated herself for not voicing her opinion in polite, professional company. Yet.
She had only dropped her computer bag on her desk when her supervisor, a micromanager named Jennings, shoved another pile of "While You Were Out" messages of executive desperation and near catastrophe. It was going to be another one of those days. Felicity grimaced and didn't even bother unpacking her bag. She would take it with her to access her cleaning and debugging tools. She huffed to the elevator and punched the button for the 16th floor.
Her first two appointments were just like she expected them to be. One was a sheepish Director of Acquisitions who didn't say a word as Felicity sat down and removed the sleazy bot that had emailed an ad for penis enlargement to everyone in his address book. He had, of course, blamed the IT department for his epic mistake.
The next was a VP in Marketing who had accessed a cheating website and was now receiving an inordinate amount of emails from a lady name SisterKnockingboots36. He had the good sense to be absent during her visit, leaving his assistant to roll her eyes as Felicity muttered about the likelihood of there being 35 other people with the SisterKnockingboots email handle. The IT genius in the polka dot dress managed to block the email handily and spent nearly an hour cleaning the laptop of nasty critters. As much as Felicity hated the computer hackers who spread destructive viruses, she couldn't help but be irritated by the thoughtless users whose behavior put their companies' security at risk.
Running late, Felicity rushed to the 17th floor for the next call. She rushed past the empty assistant's desk and into the main office. She wasn't expecting to see Oliver standing behind his desk dressed in a beautiful gray suit and wearing a pensive expression as he sipped from a takeout cup. His laptop was open. When saw her, his breath hitched. Felicity knew because she reacted the same way.
"Um, sorry for rushing in. I came up to see Mister Dearden to f-fix…his—" She knew she sounded like a stammering idiot and couldn't wait to turn tail and run back to the elevator. Oliver's blue eyes and perfect…everything…were more than she could handle. Felicity also couldn't bear the awkwardness that was currently hanging in the air and threatening to crush her. She was pivoting away when he spoke.
"That's me. I'm the one with the computer problem." Oliver spoke quickly, trying to get his point across before she rushed back to her lair on the 6th floor.
"Oh," Felicity dropped her computer bag, grimaced and studied the note in her hand. "You have Conficker and the Sasser Worm?" She looked up at him, her brows knitted in doubt.
"Those are bad, right?" he countered. His eyes studied her a little desperately, trying to determine what she was feeling. It was obvious that she wasn't looking at him. He just wanted her to look at him again.
"You don't have a real computer problem, do you, Mister Queen?" She crossed her arms in a guarded fashion, staring at the carpet. "I'm sorry, I can't…I shouldn't…" Felicity moved to grab her bag again.
"Wait, wait!" Oliver's voice sounded a little desperate now. "I do have a legitimate computer problem." He searched the air for minute for the answer. Then, without thinking, he announced, "I've um…" Oliver tore the lid off his coffee cup and poured the entirety of it on the keyboard in front of him. "I spilled a latte on my laptop." He looked worried now and searched her face for a reaction.
Felicity's hand shot up to cover her open mouth. She was horrified.
"Oh Oliver, what have you done?" Her tone sounded like grief. Abuse of any computer made her so sad. She couldn't stop moving toward the laptop.
"I, I…" Oliver dropped into his chair and scrubbed his face quickly with his hands. "I don't know. I just wanted you to stay and it was the first thing I could think of."
"But…" Felicity swept around the desk to catch the screen flickering haphazardly. She shook her head and grabbed the cord to the power supply and yanked it out of the computer. The screen went dark. She shook her head and muttered to herself, stalking over to the closest trashcan and tipping the drowned device. Oliver spun sideways in his chair and watched a generous amount of brown milky liquid spill out and land in the bin. He couldn't help but be distracted by how pretty she looked in the black skirt, white blouse and heels she wore. He took in an extra breath, steeling himself for what might happen next.
"Oliver, what have you done?" She winced, not wanting to think about the hours it would take to set the machine right, if it could be recovered at all.
Oliver stood up and made a tentative step toward her.
"I'm so sorry, Felicity."
"Well, you should be because dairy products are the worst." Now she was dangerously close to deploying her loud voice.
"No, I'm sorry about…I should have called you on Monday morning. Tuesday. Yesterday. I…I'm an ass."
Felicity's anger crumbled a little, but she wasn't happy about it.
"Look, forget about it. Let's…I don't really want to talk about it." She was overcome by her feelings and she didn't like being exposed at the moment. "I'll just take this downstairs."
Felicity headed towards her bag so that she could leave. Oliver rushed over to her, stopping a just a couple of feet away. He sensed he shouldn't crowd her, so he leaned back against his desk.
"Couldn't you fix it here?" He tried to sound casual, but there was a bit of pleading in his tone. Felicity sighed and shook her head.
"This takes hours, Oliver…" Felicity swallowed and stiffened. "Mr. Queen." She shut her eyes tight. Maybe not looking at him would help. "I'll take care of it and have it sent up this afternoon." Her tone suggested the matter was finished and she turned towards the door.
"I'll do it again tomorrow," he blurt out, moving to follow her.
Felicity stopped and spun to face him. "Oliver…what is this? Look, we had an amazing time together." She remembered where she was and dropped her voice to more of a whisper. "We did. But it's over now, right? Time to move on and go back to our very different…" Felicity waved back and forth between them. She felt a pull to go to him, but she managed to stand her ground.
"What if I don't want that? Is that really what you want?" Oliver started to pace a little. "Because I want," he searched the air for an answer. "A do-over. That's what I want. I want to wake up tomorrow morning and send you a text with stupid emojis in it and ask you to have lunch with me. And while we're at lunch I want to ask you to go out with me on Saturday night. A real date with dinner and a movie."
Felicity couldn't make eye contact with him. She knew if she did, her resolve would be gone.
"Oliver, there are reasons why you didn't reach out to me for three days. Probably the same reasons I didn't expect you to. And they haven't changed."
"Felicity, the first day I didn't call you because you are nothing like any woman I have ever been with before. You are incredible and I was sure that you were way too good for me. But I decided I didn't care. I just wanted a chance with you. The next day I worried that being with me would mess up your life." Oliver shoved his hands in his pockets and took a few steps toward her. Felicity's expression was unreadable as she listened to him.
"I'm in the public eye and anybody with me gets scrutinized and I didn't want you to be damaged by that. But I know you're a strong woman and you should get to decide what you want and whether or not being with me is worth it. Then yesterday I spent all day freaking out because it was Wednesday. What kind of idiot gets a chance to be with you and then waits that long to…to call you?" Oliver scrubbed his face with his palms. "Then I woke up this morning and I just really needed to see you again."
Finishing his proclamation, Oliver watched her face for some kind of reaction. Her silence was troubling. "Felicity, you said you didn't expect me to call you. Why was that?"
She sighed. "Because sometimes people just meet and share something intense and then it's over. It happens. Well, I've heard it happens. It's never happened to me before."
"Me neither, "he countered. Oliver was starting to look a little hopeful. At least she hadn't stormed out.
"And I thought," she stared up with him, blue eyes shining through her glasses, "this man who shoveled my driveway and listened to me babble about firewalls and made me feel so…desired,"
Oliver's eyebrow lifted. He really liked doing those other things with her.
"He was really great and I loved being with him. But I thought maybe us being together was…something temporary and beautiful. Like a snow storm. In the end I figured it would be better not to find out. I'd rather have a perfect memory."
Oliver sighed and stared into Felicity's soul. At least that's what it felt like to her.
"Felicity," he finally whispered, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the corner of his office that couldn't be viewed from the outer office or the hallway. He didn't let go. Instead, he laced his fingers into hers. "I'm not satisfied with just one perfect memory. I want a lot more than that. And I want imperfect ones too. Real life. With you."
She disengaged from his intense gaze and raised his hand to meet her lips. Oliver's heart stuttered a moment and he took the first real breath he'd allowed himself since she walked in.
"Just one thing," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "Felicity Smoak, could I have your phone number?"
A broad smile erupted on her face and she pulled away so she could see his face. "On one condition."
"What's that?"
"Know that if you ever willfully destroy a computer again," she was basically poking him in the chest now, "I will find you and kick your ass. No matter how attractive it is."
Oliver grinned. "Oh, it's not as nice as yours."
xxXXXxx
After three weeks of what Felicity termed "covert dating," meeting in restaurants far out of town, groping each other in the QC parking garage and spending weekends holed up at each other's apartments, the couple finally began to let friends and family know about their relationship. Felicity was delighted to meet Oliver's best friend, Tommy Merlyn, as well as his sister, Thea. An introduction to Moira Queen was inevitable, but had not taken place yet because Felicity thought she was "a little scary." Meanwhile, Oliver had met Felicity's mom on Skype, and she was a chirpy delight who doted on him immediately.
Five months later, Tommy Merlyn approached Felicity with the idea of investing in the startup idea she had mentioned at dinner a few weeks earlier. She asked Oliver if he had anything to do with it, but he insisted that Tommy was looking to diversify and thought Felicity's tech company sounded like an excellent idea.
By fall, Felicity had given her notice at QC and moved into a suite of offices five blocks away. It wasn't far from the condo that she and Oliver recently purchased on Jefferson Avenue. The couple frequently turned up in the gossip pages, but Felicity only minded when they spelled her name wrong. That Thanksgiving, while entwined on the floor in front of their fireplace, Oliver asked Felicity to be his wife and she said yes. And they both might have cried for a few minutes. After Christmas, planning for the Starling City wedding of the decade began in earnest. There were many details to be hashed out, but Oliver and Felicity agreed on the first person that should be invited – Mrs. Klein.
The End.