A/N: Based on the recent spoilers for 3x05, where we meet Goth!Felicity, and I thought about the possibility that Goth!Felicity and Playboy!Oliver might have crossed paths at one point while he was at Harvard and she was at M.I.T.

Coffee.

That was the first thought in his mind as he woke up to the early afternoon sunlight glaring through the window. He squinted his eyes against the onslaught, holding his arm in front of his face to ward it off as much as possible. He took stock of his surroundings; he was naked in an unfamiliar bed, and he was all by himself. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. A post-it note fell off his forehead. He blinked a couple of times and picked it up to read the contents.

My roommate comes back around 1, you should get lost before then. Last night was fun. xo

He tried to remember who he had hooked up with, but it was lost in a blur of other memories. He remembered going to a party with his frat brothers somewhere off campus, and there was a lot of drinking. And girls. Lots and lots of girls. And he apparently went home with one. The question was, which one?

He rubbed his forehead, trying to massage his hangover away. He was tempted to go back to sleep, but then the thought of coffee from Crema's perked him up and got him moving. He threw off the blanket and turned to the right, placing his feet on the floor. He looked at the clock radio sitting on the night table.

Shit, he thought with only a modicum of alarm. It was almost one o'clock. He got up slowly to look around for his clothes, but then swayed as a bout of nausea threw off his equilibrium. He took deep breaths against the churning in his gut; if there was one thing he hated, it was throwing up. Especially with a hangover, that was the worst. When he tried moving again, his stomach won the battle, and he rushed to the bathroom to expel its contents.

After a few minutes of porcelain praying, he flushed the toilet and stood up to wash his mouth, feeling much better. He turned on the faucet and leaned over the sink, and after a minute he felt like a human being again. He smiled at the Hello Kitty make-up bag sitting on one corner of the sink counter, wondering if it belonged to the girl he hooked up with.

He walked out of the bathroom, and when he saw the door to the room opening, he knew it was too late.

Everything happened at once, but to him, it felt like slow motion. The most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on entered the room. She had jet black hair with a streak of purple on the side. Her perfect pale skin was made more perfect by the dark makeup around her eyes. Her dark red lipstick made her mouth look temptingly kissable. She was wearing a tight tank top that showed off a little belly, and his dick stirred alarmingly.

After that first half-second, her eyes widened with shock and she let out a scream that pierced his brain. He clutched at his head, doubling over as the sound reverberated in his skull.

"Who the hell are you?" she shouted, causing more pain in his head. "And why the hell are you naked?"

"Please…" he groaned, "not so loud."

"Never mind," she said, not hearing him. "Don't answer that second one. You must be Alex's latest conquest." She said this in a quieter tone (but still too loud) and with a great deal of disgust.

He glanced up at her, unused to hearing such contempt toward him from a beautiful woman. "Alex?" he repeated. He thought over the women he met at the party, and he couldn't remember an Alex.

She scoffed and shook her head. "I'm not surprised, she doesn't exchange names." Her eyes darted down his body before she looked away sharply. "Please put that thing away. And you're standing in front of my desk. Which is where I need to be."

He was suddenly embarrassed that he was standing in front of this gorgeous woman completely naked, and rushed to find his clothes. As he got dressed, he heard her muttering something about hacking and single rooms.

"You can hack?" he blurted.

She looked over at him, relieved that he was dressed. "Well, I like to call it creative problem solving. Hacking makes it sound dirty."

He grinned. He threw on his playboy charm as he said, "Dirty's not always a bad thing." He was gratified to see a slight blush fill her cheeks.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she asked him suspiciously.

He smiled and obnoxiously sat on her bed. She gave him a disgruntled look, but he just smiled at her. "Actually I was hoping to go to Crema Café, care to join me?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Um, that's by Harvard. This is M.I.T."

"Oh!" He blinked, surprised. "Huh." He couldn't remember how he got here, but he was pretty sure he didn't drive. "Well, I guess I'm hoofing it back to Harvard, then. Unless…" He gazed into her eyes soulfully. "You could help a guy out and give me a ride?"

She scoffed at him, unaffected by his charm. "It's not that far. You can walk."

He clutched a fist to his chest. "You wound me!"

"You'll get over it," she retorted, ignoring him in favor of booting up her computer.

He chuckled. "Well, then, can you at least recommend a good coffee shop on the way? I could really use a latte."

She side-eyed him briefly before turning back to her computer. "There's a Starbucks on the corner of Massachusetts and Prospect."

He scoffed. "Boring. Give me another one."

She sighed heavily. "Fine. You should try 1369, it's a couple of blocks from Starbucks."

He edged closer to her, close enough to smell her perfume, which was unexpectedly fruity. "You should join me. Show me what's good there." He added his patented Oliver Queen smile.

She finally turned to look at him and narrowed her eyes. "I have a lot of studying to do. I don't have time for pretty boys."

He grinned widely. "So you do think I'm pretty."

She smiled ever so briefly before turning her mouth down into a scowl. "That's not supposed to be a compliment."

"Ha!" he crowed triumphantly. "I saw that smile. You like me. Don't deny it."

She turned back to her computer with her lips pressed together. "I will admit no such thing."

He stood up and invaded her personal space, leaning over to whisper in her ear. "Come on," he cajoled. "A latte on a Saturday afternoon with me, what do you say?"

She stood up abruptly and he tripped a little backing away. She had a thunderous look on her face, and he suddenly realized this was a woman he couldn't charm easily. She placed her hands against his chest and pushed him toward the door. He sputtered apologies and protests, trying to repair whatever it was that he broke between them. But it did no good.

He was unceremoniously pushed out of her room and the door was about to shut in his face when his hand flew up to stop it. "Wait!" he cried out, pushing his face back into the room. "I never got your name!"

She chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "Felicity. Smoak. Now leave. I really do have work to do."

He smiled dreamily at her. "Nice to meet you Felicity Smoak. Aren't you going to ask for my name?"

She smirked at him. "No. You meet one pretty boy, you've met them all. Now go!"

He took a deep breath and smiled one last time. "I hope I see you around, Felicity."

She shook her head. "Not even if you paid me." With that, she shoved his face and shut the door.

He laughed to himself, staring at the door that separated him from a woman he would likely never forget. And with a unique name like Felicity Smoak, he was sure he would never forget that either.

He turned on his heel and walked away, looking forward to trying out this coffee shop she recommended.