A/N: This was a beast to write. Not to mention that I'm working on three other stories at the same time. *Sigh* Life of the writer I guess.
Anyways, I've only seen this movie once and when I read the prompt I immediately thought of Leap Year and it all fit. Very nicely. I've changed a lot in it, but the premise and plot is roughly the same.
This is currently the second longest one shot I have ever written. So please enjoy!
Reviews feed the hungry hungry muse!
Felicity stood on the beach, soaking wet, staring at the dinge bar in front of her.
Verdant.
What an obnoxious name, she thought. Everywhere around her was lusciously green so why did the bar have to be?
She dragged her rolling suit case in, tracking mud and water everywhere. The ringing of the bell announced her presence.
Three men seated at the bar turned towards her, a man behind the bar, a white bar towel slung over his very broad shoulders. Bravely, she marched up to them.
"Do you have a phone?" The barkeep motioned towards the corner of the club. A woman was already on it, sitting cross-legged next to it.
Just as she moved towards it, an old man grabbed her arm. "Gladys has been on that thing for the past twenty minutes. I doubt she'll be getting off anytime soon."
Felicity nodded, frustrated at this turn of events. Reluctantly, she plopped down at the bar. The barkeeper trudged over to her.
"What can I do for you?"
"A coffee please. With lots of milk and sugar."
The tender cocked an eye at her before turning and starting to make her coffee. Felicity managed to pull herself together enough to notice things. Especially how tight the barkeeper's ass was. Or how broad shouldered he was. Or how the rough stubble across his jaw that she caught a glimpse of as he moved around really turned her on.
Stop it, Felicity. She pulled her eyes reluctantly away from his profile, fingers tracing the old wood counter. A coffee, almost white in color, was placed in her line of sight.
"Thank-you, "she whispered. Before he could turn away, however, she blurted out "I need a taxi to Central City. When will the taxi comes? How long do they take to get here? I mean I don't have forever, only a couple of days until I need to be there, because I really need to be there by the 29th, what with traditions and all."
The barkeeper leveled a look at her before stating simply, "they only come if you call. Around a day," before serving another customer. Felicity sighed, looking out at the impending storm.
"Fine. Do you know where I can find a place to sleep tonight?" She called down the bar.
This caused the customers to burst out in chuckles and laughter. "Hell if he don't. Hey Queen! You going to take her to bed with yah? She needs a place to sleep!"
The barkeep- Queen- pointed a deadly finger at the man who was catcalling. "You, Roy Harper, better keep it in your mouth. You don't, you won't be seeing my sister no more."
This caused the younger man's jaw to click shut, a taken aback expression clear upon his face. "You wouldn't do that, would you Queen?"
"Wouldn't you like to find out?" Queen quipped back. "Stop pressing your luck, Harper."
Queen made his way over to her. "This also doubles as a bed and breakfast Miss…"
"Smoak," Felicity replied quickly. "Felicity Smoak."
"Fine. It's thirty for the night and a small breakfast. Five more for a larger breakfast."
"Very well." She pulled out thirty five in cash, handing it over to Queen's waiting hand. Just then, Gladys got off the phone. Meekly, she turned to Queen.
"Do you have the taxi service number?"
He looked at her like she was stupid. And for a matter of fact she was not.
It's in the phone book" he replied, turning away. Felicity harrumphed and stumbled over to the pay phone. After several minutes with a horrible customer service man, she slammed down the telephone.
"They can't pick me up until March first! March! First! I have to be in Central City by the 29th! Uggggh!" She announced to the room. She marched back up to Queen. He turned to her reluctantly, the "Now what" clear and plain in his eyes.
"I'll pay you 100 in cash if you will take me to Central City."
Harper guffawed. "Darling, I'll take you there and back for half of that."
"Shut it, Harper," Queen growled. He turned to her. "No."
"But-"
"No. Now the sun's going down, will you be wanting that bed or not?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Queen showed her to her bedroom, a tiny five by ten foot thing. There was barely enough room for the bed, let alone her. But after the exhausting day she had had, a bed was what she needed.
In the morning she trudged downstairs, trying to look as put together as possible; her best dress she had brought with her was on, her fluffy, frizzy hair pulled up into a pony tail. Queen was arguing with a man in quiet tones, a murderous yet defeated glare upon his face when the man left.
She placed herself at the bar, still not awake enough to smile. The same coffee as before appear, followed by eggs, ham, and a biscuit.
"Thank-you," She muttered.
Halfway through her breakfast, a tap on her shoulder made Felicity look up. The young man, Roy Harper, was standing there with a large man behind him, arms the size of bowling balls. Those muscles were enhanced by the way he was holding them—across his chest.
"My man Diggle here has a nice car. And he's a willing to take you to Central. But only for the same price you offered Queen there. "
Felicity exhaled in relief. She was going to Central City! A 100 dollars lighter, but it was a small price to pay.
She quickly finished her plate, wanting to be gone as soon as possible. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Queen scoop up her luggage and tote it outside. Felicity immediately wondered if she had misjudged him, and he was kind enough to take her luggage out to Mr. Diggle's car.
Wiping her mouth she followed him to the door. Where she stopped.
Roy Harper and Mr. Diggle were standing by a nice car, waiting for her. However, Queen had taken her suitcase and was busy strapping it to the back of a motorcycle.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Felicity crowed, marching down the steps as best she could in heels.
"Taking you to Central City, where the dogs are?" Queen shrugged, preoccupied with her suitcase.
"What? What dogs? And Mr. Diggle is taking me, thank-you very much! He has a nice car with a passenger seat and four walls and a roof! I am not going with you." She added belatedly, "Ever!"
And she marched over to Mr. Diggle's car and plopped herself in the "passenger seat"
Queen sighed, trudging over to Mr. Diggle. They conversed in hushed tones, Mr. Diggle with his arms still crossed—was he glued like that?—and Queen rubbing his forefinger against his thumb, almost like he was trying to snap.
After a couple of seconds, Mr. Diggle came over and opened up her door. (So his arms weren't stuck like that.)
"Queen's taking you to Central, Miss. We've come to an agreement."
Once she had got out of the car, Mr. Diggle slid behind and wheel, taking off and leaving her with only one option.
The bike.
"Don't you have like, a car, or something? Because no way in hell am I getting on that thing. Nope. The one and only and last time I ever rode a bicycle was not in a fun way but had my skirts flying everyone and I think I flashed a whole lot of people and—" Felicity covered her mouth with her hands, emphatically cutting off her ramble.
Queen held out a helmet to her, just as he clipped his on. "Here."
Felicity took it reluctantly. Queen slid on the bike, making it look like a sensual dance. She wonder what it would feel like when he straddled her instead of the bike. Felicity shook herself before stepping up to the bike. She steadied one hand on Queen's shoulder and carefully slid on behind him.
Before Felicity could really settle herself, Queen roared off, causing her to clutch a hold of him. They both tensed at the same time. She could feel really hard muscles underneath her hands but she resisted the urge to rub her palm over them. Felicity braced her head against his shoulder, wondering for the umpteenth time that day if this was a good idea.
All she needed to do was to get to Central City. She planned on getting engaged in Central City, underneath the water fountain in Memorial Park. The most romantic place in Central City.
After about two hours of driving, they came to an abrupt halt. The bridge crossing the river was out, a patrol man waving them off.
They halted, Queen talking off his helmet and Felicity following suit.
"The bridge will be out until March 1st. That's when we can get a crew out to fix it." The police man told them. "So there's no way out of Star County until then."
No way was Felicity staying in Star County another minute. She swung off the bike, untying her suitcase and promptly striding over to the river.
"Miss!" She could hear Queen behind her.
The State Trooper joined him. "Ma'am, you can't go over there!"
"Miss Smoak! What are you doing!? He said the bridge is out!"
Felicity kept marching towards the river. If she was getting out of Star County, the only way was to swim. Holding her case above her head, she waded in. She could hear the men calling out to her to stop.
Three steps in, Felicity thought she was doing well. Step four, however, sent her out into the current and with her heels on, had no way of keeping her balance. She fell straight into the icy river.
Water surrounded her, coming in through her nose, her eyes, her mouth. She was chilled to the bone and had no control over her body any more. Felicity was tossed around in the current until she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and made the river give up its hold on her.
Felicity broke the surface, coughing up water. Mr. Queen was right next to her, his arms gripping her waist tightly. In any other predicament she would be embarrassed about their position. Right now she was just glad they're alive.
"You feel good." Felicity stated. She stared at Queen in horror of her own making. She quickly tried to fix it. "I mean your arms around me feel good! I mean, your arms rescuing me from this icy water feels very good and not in a sexual way but in a lifesaving kind of way. So what I'm trying to say is thank-you Mr. Queen."
"Oliver."
Felicity stared at him. He was swimming one armed to the bank, not looking at her. "What?"
He heaved them both on solid earth. He was gasping as he lay on his back. "Oliver. My name is Oliver. And what the hell were you thinking?!"
Felicity sat up, glaring at him. "I was going to Central City!"
"Oh Damn Central City! You almost got yourself killed! And me! You almost got me killed! Over going to some worthless town!" He yelled back. He was pretty when he was mad.
"It's not worthless," Felicity defended.
"Yes. It is. Only dogs live there and the fact that you're trying so hard to get there just makes me hate it more!" He glared right back at her. She huffed and stood up but almost fell over immediately. She looked down to find her heels broken, the stands washed away in the water. Frustrated, she threw them off, then stormed up and away from Oliver.
Felicity heard him follow her. She ignored him, grabbing her suitcase—that had miraculously survived—trudging down the road.
"What's so important in Central City, anyways?" He asked, falling into step behind her.
"My boyfriend."
"You're so desperate to get to Central City, to get to him, that you would risk your own life?"
She stopped, furious. "I'm guess you've never been in love."
Felicity turned again and marched with renewed purpose.
"What's so important about the twenty ninth, anyway?" Oliver asked, a slight irritation in his tone. But mostly it was just curiosity.
"What's with the twenty questions? Why should I tell you anything, when you have barely told me your name?"
He leveled her with an incredulous look. "I just saved your life. I think I'm entitled to know."
Felicity sighed.
"Especially since I left my bike on the other side of that river and I'm very protective about my bike." Oliver added.
"It's tradition in Central City that if a woman proposes to a man on the twenty ninth of February, he has to say yes."
"Ah," was all he said. They walked a few more minutes in silence. Felicity debated telling him anything more. The silence was killing her so she decided that yes, she would tell him. Everything.
"You see, my boyfriend and I have been dating for the past four years. And I thought he was going to propose to me back in Boston, before he came out to Central City for a tech conference. Instead he got me earrings. EARRINGS! It was all romantic and everything but instead of proposing like any well-reasoned man in love would do, he gave me a gift that wasn't a ring!
"I was mad at him until I remembered that I could propose to him. And it wasn't "taboo" to do it either, in Central City. Where he was at! And his flight back to Boston is on March first. It was perfect. I flew out to surprise him but got caught in a storm and we landed on an island just outside Starling. I then got a ship to cart me over but I had to swim to shore. And now it's the twenty seventh and I only have two days left!
"I also need a nice dress and shoes, now that mine are broken, so I need to be in Central City by tomorrow! And at this rate, I'll get there in July!"
Rant over and breathing kind of hard from the exertion, she continued walking down the road, Oliver silent by her side.
After several minutes, Oliver pulled her to a stop. "Felicity, I promise you I'll do anything in my power to get you to Central City. I promise."
Felicity searched him for a minute, but only found honesty and sincerity. He was speaking the truth.
"Alright." Then, as an after-thought, "Thank-you."
He only nodded in return.
They rounded the bend in the road and Felicity spied a certain utilitarian construction: train-tracks.
Excited and relieved, Felicity took off running. Just then, a clap of thunder echoed above them and a torrent of water crashed down upon them!
"Oh! No!" she yelped, as the icy warm water hit her flushed skin. Soon the bank was slick with mud as she ran towards the station, Oliver steps behind her.
They tumbled into the lobby, panting. The clerk turned to them, wide-eyed. Felicity stuttered to a stop against the counter.
"I need one—no, two," she glanced back at Oliver who gave a slight nod, "tickets on the first train—gasp- to Central City. Please."
The clerk winced. "I'm afraid the last train today left not five minutes ago." He stated sympathetically. "There won't be another one until the—"
"March 1st. Of course."
"Actually, the 29th".
"Still," Felicity wined, "two days from now."
The clerk glanced between them. "Since you two are soaked and muddy, why don't you two head down to the bread and breakfast down the road. My sister and her husband run it, and the food's mighty good!"
Felicity raised her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation, not to mention frustration, and cursed whatever providence had deigned this to happen.
Oliver replied cordially to the clerk. "Thank-you sir. We'll take you up on that."
He got directions and gently took Felicity by the arm, snagging her suitcase in the other hand.
That simple act jolted her. "You don't have a change of clothes!" She chastised him.
"No. I don't." Oliver frowned.
"And I don't have anything in mine that would fit you."
"Or is remotely dry" Oliver remarked drily.
Felicity turned to him before smacking herself in the face.
"Of course! The river! Nothing in here is dry!"
"The rain didn't help," Oliver offered. Childishly, Felicity stuck her tongue out at him.
"Watch yourself, or you just might lose that tongue. And then where would you be?"
Felicity glared at him before muttering under her breath, "Mute and nowhere near you."
Within moments they came upon the bed and breakfast. The clerk's sister and husband immediately took care of them, handing them dry clothes. Relieved they both started trudging up the stairs.
"Hang on one moment you two. You are married, right?"
Oliver swung his head towards Felicity before nodding. "Yes we are. We are Mr. and Mrs.—"
"Smoak." "Queen." They looked at each other again.
"Smoak-Queen." Oliver took charge. Not wanting him to get the last word she added "I refused to take his name unless he took mine. We're partners after all, equals. We hyphenate as a result."
"Come on, dear." Oliver gritted, tugging on her arm, stopping her lengthy ramble that was about to ensue.
For once, she followed Oliver's lead, trailing him up the stairs. To a one bed bed-room.
"There is no way I'm sleeping on the floor." Felicity announced, flopping down on the bed. Oliver twerked an eyebrow at her.
"And I suppose I'm sleeping in the shower?"
"Of course dear!" Felicity replied cheekily. Oliver glared at her before plopping down beside her.
"Since we're married, darling, don't you think we should share the bed."
"Oliver!" She hissed.
He was as calm as ever. "It's one night. What could happen?"
Felicity fell backwards onto the pillows. "You said it. Why did you have to say it? Now something will happen."
"Come on Felicity, we should change. And you shouldn't get our bed all wet."
"I'll show you how wet I can get!" She clapped a hand to her mouth. "I wasn't insinuating that I can get wet. Well, of course I can get wet, I mean just staring at you makes me wet—"She flushed, hard, before racing into the shower, pulling the curtains down.
She could hear Oliver laughing.
"It's not funny!" she called. Footsteps approached the shower.
"You forgot your clothes, Felicity."
His hand wrapped around the curtain, presenting her clothes. She snatched them from his grip, changing quickly.
As she finished, she heard the tinkling of the bell calling for dinner. Oliver was already dressed in his borrowed clothes, the sweater vest a touch too big for him. Felicity smoothed down her skirt.
"Let's go." Oliver offered his arm for her to take. Felicity hesitated, seeing Oliver's smile dip slightly before she took it.
Dinner, well, Dinner was interesting. All was going quiet well until the innkeeper and his wife decided to kiss. Then the two lesbians, Nyssa and Sara, full on made out. It was slightly uncomfortable. Felicity then realized that they were next. She would have to kiss Oliver. He had other ideas. He kissed her on the cheek, a small peck. Not much to it. Or so she told herself.
That one touch heated up her entire body. The slight scrape of his stubble against her skin light a fire she didn't want to stop. She wanted more.
So when the host insisted that Oliver kiss her "like a real man", most of Felicity welcomed the thought. There was a little nagging voice reminding her that she was on her way to get engaged to her boyfriend. Who wasn't Oliver.
It was silenced immediately.
Oliver leaned down towards her, almost touching her. And he stopped. Her eyes that had fluttered close flashed open after two seconds. He was just hovering there. Waiting.
Waiting for her.
He looked at her, asking for her permission. He went ninety.
Felicity sprinted across that ten.
The instant their lips connected Felicity felt fireworks erupt, spreading over her face and down her body, igniting her. Her hands had a mind of their own and she wrapped her hand around his neck, finger tangling in his nape. His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he cradled her head.
Too soon, Oliver started drawing back. Felicity was eager to follow him, to continue with the heady feeling and sparks. His hands tightened on her jaw, forcing her away from him. Felicity finally remember where they were.
Oliver ignored her after that.
Even when they were lying in bed, side by side. Felicity gazed at the ceiling, mapping the cracks, listening to Oliver's irregular breath.
He was still awake.
Finally, Felicity couldn't stand it anymore. She'd grown closer to this man in the past twelve hours. She actually thought she might be starting to like him.
Or at least value his presence.
"Oliver?" Felicity interrupted the quiet, disturbing in the best way she knew how; by speaking what was on her mind. "I can't stop thinking about that story, the one Mrs. Marshe told us about. If I was ever put in a position in a fire and I could only gather one thing, I would probably not be as brave as the girl as saving the painting. Now that I think about it, I don't know what I would save."
She left it up to him to see if he would respond to her statement. Several minute passed and his breathing never changed. Felicity rolled over and hugged the pillow to her chest, trying to get some sleep.
"A Ring." Oliver said simply, before turning over and going to sleep. Felicity thought long and hard about his answer, trying to get inside the man beside her.
Her thoughts yielded nothing.
It turned out that Oliver hated weddings.
That morning they had planned to ask their host if they could get a lift into Central City. Their host, after several roundabout conversations told them his wife had the car. In Central City.
So they continued their trek down the road.
A hail storm this time drove them to the nearest building, laughing and cursing.
Right into a wedding.
Oliver hated weddings.
Or so he told her. Felicity herself didn't mind them, thinking that marriage was perhaps more important than the wedding itself. But there was always such joy and marvelousness in a wedding that every person was bound to catch.
However, she could see a certain glimmer in Oliver's eyes, of longing, of wistfulness, that denied what he so fervently admitted. He wanted what the couple had.
Just watching Oliver watch the couple caused the final puzzle piece that Felicity had been missing last night. A ring. Hating Weddings. Usually, only those who have been burned by the fire detest the presence of one.
"Who was she?" Felicity asked. Oliver flipped his head towards her in surprise.
"What?" A beat. Then, "How did you know?"
"It's not that hard to figure out. In a fire, your most prized possession would be to grab a ring. Unless it was a coat of arms or a sealing ring, it could get lost in a fire. An engagement ring has meaning, especially if it was an heirloom. In addition, you say you hate weddings, yet you look like a dog that has had its toy taken away then kicked every time you glance over at the swinging bride. So who was she?"
Oliver glanced down, then replied in a monotone, unemotional voice. "Laurel. She was my fiancée'. Her, my best friend Tommy and I all ran Verdant. Then, I caught her sleeping with him and threw them both out. They left and she took my grandmother's ring with her. I think she's married to him now," He added, shrugging his shoulders.
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Oliver. From what it looks like to me, you're a great guy, and, with the right woman, would be a wonderful catch. She was probably just the wrong woman. "
Felicity glanced up to see him with a wondrous expression on his face, an indescribable look on his countenance.
He stood up abruptly. "Come with me." This time there was no hesitation. Felicity grabbed his hand and let him lead her where he would.
They danced for a while, until Felicity accidently spilled wine on the bride. The Father (who had agreed to take them to Central when the ceremony was over) kicked them out and told them that Central City was only three miles out. They could walk.
Felicity had stolen a bottle of wine before they left, and had downed most of it by the time CC came into sight.
She turned to Oliver with a grin, slightly stumbling. The light from the city cast a romantic glow on his face, highlighting his vivid blue eyes. She reached up with one hand, gripped the back of his head and attempted to shove her face into his. He almost let her.
Until she passed out.
Felicity woke up on a bench, alone by herself. Oliver was nowhere in sight. He probably abandoned her after she had tried to drunk kiss him. Resigned. She collapsed down on the bench, her head cradled with a soft material.
Oliver's jacket.
Either he had given it to her—she didn't want to look too far into the meaning of that—or he was still here. The latter proved to be true when he appeared with her order of coffee and a blueberry muffin all for her.
"Thank-you." She replied meekly. Felicity scooted over, expecting Oliver to sit down. Instead he held out his hand to her.
"You have really stop doing that. Next thing you know he'll be handing out kisses with those hands." She muttered. Oliver must have heard her because he huffed out a laugh.
"Come on, Felicity. Smile! It's the 29th and you're in Central City. "His smile faded too quickly, and it felt too forced. "Let's go find your boyfriend, alright?"
Feeling reluctant, another thing she didn't want to examine too closely, she took his offered hand.
After hitching several bus rides, they ended up in the front lobby of the Central Plaza Hotel. Felicity was just about to thank Oliver when she heard her name being called across the room.
"Felicity!" She turned to see Ray running towards her. She got swept up in his arms, before he kissed her. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you!" She didn't want to tell him about the proposal. Not yet.
"You must have read my mind! I needed you here and lo and behold here you are!"
"Here I am!" She giggled, Ray's enthusiasm sparking her own.
Abruptly, that happy bubble burst when Ray went down on one knee. He was talking to her, words streaming from his lips but all she heard was white noise. Ray was proposing to her. She was supposed to propose to him. That's what this was all about. The entire three days were worthless if he was proposing to her now. She looked around for Oliver, wanting to see his reaction.
The spot where he had been standing was empty.
"But, but, why now?" She interrupted his proposal. "I thought you were going to propose to me at the restaurant back in Boston? I mean you got me earrings and I thought it was a ring. Then it wasn't and you were leaving. Then I thought that you were going to be in Central City on the twenty ninth and they have a tradition of girls proposing on the twenty ninth and so I flew here to surprise you! "
"Felicity," Ray cooed. "Baby, say yes."
"But why now Ray? Why not back in Boston?"
He sighed, reluctantly getting to his feet. "Because the board told me that in order to buy the company I want I need to be married. They're old-fashioned that way and it's a sign of responsibility. And I'm like 'why not?' We've been together for four years, marriage just seems like the logical choice!"
Felicity stared at him in disbelief, her feet rooted to the floor. He wanted to marry her… out of convenience? Not out of Love? He did this to impress the board?
Suddenly, Felicity realized that everything between her and Ray had been a fake, a lie. She had felt more passion, more… love in Oliver's presence of two days than she had with Ray for four years. Preparing herself to stand firm to her head, heart and gut, she planned to say No to his proposal.
The fire alarm cut her off.
Ray had been pleading her with his eyes, begging her to say yes, until he heard the alarm. Frantic, he exclaimed, "My Prototype!" and hastily left her standing there.
I guess fire really does show our priorities, she thought.
Without a second glance, she left the hotel and Ray.
The return trip to Starling was less adventurous than the one to Central. In fact, she took the train almost all the way there. A taxi took her back to Verdant.
Roy Harper informed her that Oliver hadn't returned to Starling yet. And when he did, his bar would be closed.
Mr. Merlyn had come for the money owed, and since Oliver wasn't here to pay his debt, Merlyn was taking the bar.
Determined to help Oliver in return for the way he had helped her, (it did not go unnoticed by her that the money she had been willing to pay him would have gone to the mortgage) she started a fundraiser. The town really turned out to help Oliver once they were made aware of the dire straits he was in.
A week later and Oliver still hadn't returned. His bar was saved, his motorcycle retrieve by Felicity and Roy, and Felicity's designer shoes to replace the one's she lost had been delivered.
Sitting on the front step, staring towards the setting sun, Felicity noticed a figure walking towards her, peering forward she recognized the man she had fallen in love with in two days. She sprang up and sprinted towards him, following where her heart led her.
Felicity collided with his hard chest, arms encircling his neck. The force of her impact had him stepping back. When she realized he wasn't holding her back, she slid down, staring up at him.
For some reason he was angry.
"Where is my damn motorcycle, wife?"
"Over there," she pointed, responding reflexively. He stomped away from her. It took her a few seconds before she realized what he said. Felicity gasped, turning towards him.
He was smiling at her, one hand held out in invitation. She ignored it, wrapping around him and kissing him soundly. Oliver pushed back just as eagerly.
When she finally came up for air, she noticed an old ring on her left hand. Oliver started peppering her neck with kisses.
"You got it?"
"Yep?"
"Was she in Central?"
"Yep."
"Is she married to him?"
"Yep."
"Is that all you're going to say to me, Mr. Queen?"
He finally stopped, smirking at her.
"Yep."
"Gosh, I hate you," she stated, smacking his chest, before turning and storming away. Oliver caught her wrist and swung her back though.
"Felicity Smoak-Queen, I think I've been in love with you since the day you swept into my bar like a hurricane. And I have it on good authority that I would be a perfect catch to anyone who was the right woman. I'm looking at her. Would you do me the greatest honor and agree to become my wife?"
Felicity couldn't help but laugh. She laughed so hard that she couldn't catch her breath. Oliver just stared at her, the look of love and happiness and hopefulness slowly falling from his face.
"Felicity?"
"Sorry! I'm just so happy I had to express it somehow. Yes! Tacos and Enchiladas, YES!"
Oliver picked her up bridal style, pressing his mouth her hers. He slowly walked them into Verdant, flipping the 'Closed' sign.
The sign said 'Closed' for three days after that.