His Eyes

By LoisMITx

Felicity Smoak was not accustomed to seeing her name in print. She'd led her entire life behind the scenes – quietly brilliant and generally unseen in her achievements. Who noticed double master's degrees from MIT when there were Kardashians in the world?

But now, staring at her name in the byline of an article she published in the Journal of Advanced Computer Sciences, Felicity couldn't help but wonder if this is what Meryl Streep felt like when she looked at her Academy Awards. She chuckled to herself, raising her fingers to her lips to contain her pride and delight.

She was a published scientist! Students at her alma mater would reference her article in future papers on regenerative algorithms in non-linear computing for years to come. All of the late nights spent researching, writing, and editing after a full day in the IT department at Queen Consolidated suddenly felt completely worth it and then some.

Felicity set the journal down on her desk in the Arrowcave and looked at the clock on her computer monitor. Diggle, who had been standing nearby reading another copy, sensed what she was thinking and pulled out his cell phone.

"Let me call him again," he said, moving away to find a private corner.

"Dig, it's fine," Felicity said. "Let's just start without him." But Diggle continued walking away, his phone up to his ear. He was sweet to check, but Oliver was already an hour late. He wasn't coming. Felicity returned her attention to her article, pretending to read as she overheard Diggle leaving another message.

"Oliver, it's almost eight. Where are you? We were going to celebrate Felicity getting published in that computer thing, remember? Call me." Diggle hung up and returned to Felicity's desk to see her cutting into the cake he had brought. "Whoa, shouldn't we wait for Oliver?"

Felicity forced a smile as she served Diggle a slice of cake. "It's okay. More cake for us."

Diggle looked at her sympathetically. "I know he wanted to be here."

"I know." Though of course she didn't know. Her interactions with Oliver Queen had been maddeningly confusing at best. She supported his crime-thwarting efforts, helping him save the day on numerous occasions with her razor sharp computer skills and quick, natural intelligence. She loved her job. It was more thrilling and fulfilling than she'd ever dreamed a job could be. Plus, it was a hell of a lot more interesting than deprogramming computer viruses in a cubicle in the IT department. She was honored to be a part of something so much bigger than she was.

Though with the exception of a few brash and ill-advised forays into the field, she existed behind the scenes. Oliver's Girl Friday, dependable and vital to his operation, but never to be recognized the way the Arrow was.

Not that Felicity minded not being in the public spotlight. She preferred blending into the background. As she enjoyed a piece of coconut cake in her basement home away from home, she felt she was exactly where she belonged.

If only the events from the previous week would stay quiet in her mind. She could still feel the icy chill of fear in her chest as The Count stroked her skin and fondled her hair, using her as bait to lure in the Arrow. She had attempted to make peace with her maker as she waited, preparing herself to get killed in the crossfire of an ineffective police raid.

When Oliver had stepped into her view, hood down, bravely facing off with the lunatic standing behind her, her heart had nearly stopped. He had come for her? Why? She could barely comprehend what he was thinking when The Count pulled out a gun and fired.

Before she knew what was happening, The Count had her on her feet with two needles of Vertigo hovering by her neck. Oliver appeared in her view again, bow and arrow drawn.

"Oliver, don't," she had said instinctively. "Not for me." He couldn't kill again. She couldn't be the reason he sacrificed his integrity.

But then she looked into Oliver's eyes and couldn't believe what she saw there. The fire and determination in his eyes as he drew his bow and fired. She dropped to the floor and heard two more arrows fly before the window exploded behind her. The sound of the shattering glass matched the cacophonous swirl of her emotions. What had he done? What had she forced him to do?

In a heartbeat, Oliver was kneeling in front of her, touching her face and looking into her soul with his strong, reassuring eyes. "It's alright. You're safe."

She'd nodded, still overwhelmed and speechless, until she saw the blood on his arm. "You were shot."

"Hey. It's nothing," he'd said, never taking his eyes from hers. And she hoped he never would for the rest of his life.

"Felicity," Diggle said, snapping her out of her reverie. "You want another slice?"

She looked at him, regaining her bearings. "Oh. No thanks." She stood, picking her coat off the back of her chair. "Actually, I should probably go home and get some rest. Who knows what dastardly deeds Starling City will bring us in the morning?"

Diggle nodded, moving to hug her. "Congratulations again. I'm sure this is just the beginning of more to come."

"Thanks, Dig. Good night." She turned, leaving the rest of the cake and her journals on the counter. They would still be there when she returned tomorrow. Her achievements were reliable like that.

#

Felicity snapped on her seat belt and was about to turn her car key when she realized she'd left her tablet at the office. Darn. She'd been looking forward to an evening of Mythbusters on Netflix and not having her tablet put a serious damper on those plans. She sighed, considering for a moment what else she might do with her time that night. She hadn't begun working on another research article since Oliver Queen came into her life, besides which she didn't feel like thinking about computer circuitry for a while.

Still, she needed an occupation, lest she spend the night thinking about Oliver. Making her decision, she turned the key and pulled left out of the driveway to head toward Queen Consolidated headquarters.

On the elevator ride up to the penthouse, Felicity's mind drifted again to her final exchange with Oliver on the night that just wouldn't settle in her mind. She'd had time to calm down after the confrontation in the office, though Diggle had noticed that she was still shivering and placed a blanket around her shoulders. She was still wearing it when Oliver checked in after his mother's trial verdict.

"You killed again," she'd said, feeling the weight of her guilt around her neck like a vice. "And I am sorry that I was the one to put you in a position where you had to make that kind of choice."

She'd expected a silent nod in response, or perhaps a short phrase letting her off the hook. What she didn't expect was for him to step closer, take her hand into his, and say, "Felicity. He had you and he was going to hurt you. There was no choice to make."

And his eyes. How they bored into her heart and stopped her breath on her lips. She was a computer nerd. Handsome men didn't look at her that way. And yet, Oliver looked at her that way, making her feel so safe, loved, and seen. The memory of his eyes in that moment would replay in her mind forever.

DING! The elevator doors opened and Felicity shook herself to attention, stepping off the elevator and heading down the hallway. As she approached the darkened office, she was surprised to hear a woman's giggle. She slowed her steps until she reached the doorway, easing her head around the corner to investigate who was inside.

It was Isabel and…Oliver. She was standing close to him, leaning against his desk, twirling his tie with her fingers, their faces inches apart. His eyes were closed as she whispered to him, smiling, having him right where she wanted him.

Felicity felt her heart drop to the floor. This is why Oliver missed her journal publication party. Of course – why would he be with her when there were women like Isabel in his life.

She watched, frozen in pain as Isabel pulled Oliver's tie toward her until their lips met. Such a cliché move, but it worked. Oliver took his hands from his pockets and wrapped them around her waist.

Felicity tiptoed quickly and carefully across the darkened foyer, hoping her steps were lighter than the pounding of her heart in her chest. She spotted her tablet exactly where she left it. Reaching for it, she turned to check if she'd been spotted.

Immediately, she wished she hadn't looked. Isabel was sliding herself back onto Oliver's desk with the slinking grace of a cat. His lips still intertwined with hers, Oliver followed her, his strong arms pressing against the glass desktop to raise himself on top of her.

Felicity had to get out of there. She picked up her tablet and moved quickly away from the desk, accidentally catching her sleeve on the Einstein mug next to her desk lamp. It fell hard against the marble floor and shattered into pieces.

She looked at her broken mug with horror, then up at Isabel and Oliver, who had turned their heads to see her too.

Crap! Felicity lowered her eyes and ran for the elevator. It opened instantly and she escaped inside, her mind racing. As she tapped the "Door Close" button, she heard Oliver's footsteps approaching. Why was he coming? To get a closer look at her mortified state? Couldn't he save his reprimands until tomorrow?

In less than a second, he was there, his tie pulled askew and his hair mussed by Isabel's lithe fingers. "Felicity – " he breathed.

"Just let me go, Oliver," Felicity said quickly, her voice sounding more demanding than she'd meant it to sound. She looked at the floor, not wanting to see what was in his eyes. Was he angry at her for intruding on his private moment? She didn't want to know. She wanted to remember his eyes from the evening after The Count. Those were the only eyes she wanted.

Oliver stepped back, silent. The elevator door closed between them and she let out a breath, clutching her tablet to her chest tightly, willing her emotions to calm down. She had done this to herself. Why did she need her tablet so badly? She should have just left as soon as she saw them together.

But the greater question blazing around her mind was this – why had she allowed herself to daydream about Oliver at all? How could such a smart girl like her be so foolish? Indulging in a fantasy that handsome playboy billionaire and secret superhero Oliver Queen saw her as more than just a trusty sidekick? She shook her head. Robin didn't have these kinds of issues with Batman. She had to pull it together.

Her phone rang as she approached her car. Oliver. He had to know she wouldn't answer it, right? She rejected the call and got into her car, knowing the safety of her tiny apartment was only minutes away.

#

Felicity awoke the next morning feeling gratefully numb. She'd forgone her planned Mythbusters marathon for one of her guilty pleasures – Executive Decision with Kurt Russell and Halle Berry. Half a bottle of wine into the film she'd fallen asleep to the sound of Oliver Platt's squeals of panic.

After showering and dressing in a new pencil skirt, her innate optimism returned. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Sure, she'd caught her boss in a compromising position, but she was still the same capable, intelligent woman she was before. Her brain could always be counted on for consistency.

She stopped on her way into the office to get lattes for everyone. No reason she shouldn't still be in a celebratory mood. It wasn't every day you woke up a published author in an academic journal.

She received a text from Diggle as she left the coffee shop.

Need you at HQ. You close?

Felicity expertly balanced the tray of coffee cups in one hand while texting with the other.

Five minutes away.

When Felicity descended the last of the steps into the Arrowcave, she heard Oliver and Diggle engaged in an intense exchange. They stopped when they heard her approaching.

"What's going on?" They didn't answer, but looked away from each other, lips pursed. Her mind flew to the worst. "Did something happen? Is it your mother? Oh my God, is The Count still alive? No one seems to stay dead in this city –"

"Nothing's wrong, Felicity," Diggle said, giving Oliver another hard look. "We just need your help decrypting this hard drive Oliver recovered from The Count's lab. We're hoping it will lead us to this mysterious benefactor of his."

She smiled as she strode to her station. "Good thing encryption is my middle name. Well, not actually. My mother never gave me a middle name, which is fine because it's not like there are a ton of Felicity Smoaks in the world from whom I need to be distinguished. Coffee?"

Oliver couldn't help but smile as he took one of the cups from her tray. "I thought you weren't going to get me coffee."

"I thought you might need it after your long night…of working…" She trailed off, stopping herself while she could. She sat down and immediately got to work, trying to focus as she felt Oliver move to sit next to her.

"Felicity," he began.

She turned in her chair to face him, knowing she couldn't avoid the topic forever. "Oliver, I'm so sorry about last night. I left my tablet on my desk and I thought I needed it. But I promise you, I didn't see anything. Well, except for the kissing and the falling onto your desk part, but –"

"Hey," Oliver said, placing a hand on her knee. "I'm the one who should apologize." She looked at the incomprehensible sight of Oliver touching her leg before lifting her eyes to his. To the eyes that took her breath away every time they were fixed on hers.

"For what?"

"For missing your party."

"Oh. That." She'd honestly forgotten about her publication party by now. "I understand. You were working on Isabel. I mean…" Damn, she did it again.

"Isabel needed to prepare a report for our investors in Japan," Oliver explained. "We lost track of time, and –"

"Oliver," Felicity said, turning back to her computer. "If it's okay, I'd rather not get a play by play of your night time activities."

Sensing her hurt, Oliver stood. "For what it's worth, what you saw…it didn't mean what you thought it meant." He walked away, leaving Felicity wondering how it could possibly mean anything else. He wanted Isabel. And he would have had her if she hadn't walked in on them.

Felicity straightened in her chair. She didn't want to think about it anymore. She forced her mind to focus on the decryption. This is what she did. What she was good at. And someday, when she slid backwards onto a desk with a man, it would be because her mind turned him on. It was the only thing she had going for her.

A second later, Oliver was standing at her side again. "I got you something. I know it doesn't make up for missing your party, but…"

Felicity turned to see what Oliver was holding and thought she might cry. It was her article, professionally mounted in a beautiful wood frame. She'd considered getting this done when the issue came out, but decided not to because it felt too self-important. Oliver didn't seem to think so.

"I thought we could hang it up in the office," he said.

"Here?"

"No, at Queen Consolidated. In case anyone thinks you're just my assistant, I can point out that you're not only a computer genius, you're a published author."

She took the large frame in her hands, truly touched. "Thank you, Oliver. I don't know what to say."

"Turn it over," he instructed. When she did, she saw a small inscription plate in the corner and read it aloud.

"For Felicity Smoak, the aerodynamic lift that supports the apparatus of my flight." Her lips curled into a smile. "The wind beneath your wings?"

"That's cheesy. This felt more fitting." Oliver smirked, a warm mischief in his eyes. "Like you said, there aren't a lot of Felicity Smoaks in the world."

She chuckled, looking at the inscription again. He must have had this made before last night. He had planned this. For her.

Oliver placed his hand on her shoulder. She reveled in the feeling of his warm grip for a moment before looking up into his eyes.

"I'm sorry I missed an opportunity to tell you something I already don't tell you enough," he said, earnest as ever. "You're important to me, Felicity. More than you know." With that, he walked away.

Felicity Smoak was not accustomed to seeing her name in print. And yet here it was. Twice. Once on her newly published article in the Journal of Advanced Computer Sciences, and again on an inscription from Oliver Queen – her employer, her fantasy, and her friend.

She turned to find Oliver across the room, getting ready to sharpen more arrows. She looked into his eyes and he looked back, his eyes saying everything that needed to be said. He saw her.

She turned back to her decryption activities and smiled to herself. Despite all the emotional turmoil of the past week and the last twenty-four hours in particular, Felicity suddenly felt that everything in her life was exactly as it should be.

#