This is set at some point in early season two in a universe where everything is good and there is no Slade chaos and Sara hasn't yet returned. Just a random one-shot with no relation to anything, basically. I'm not really sure how I feel about this, but I hope you all enjoy it!
Felicity Smoak was having a lousy day. First she'd woken up late to a malfunctioning coffee maker and so had rushed into the office with a distinct lack of caffeine running through her veins. When she got there, the ID card reader for the elevator up to the executive floors was broken, and since she just did not have the time to put in a call to maintenance or wait for stops on forty-odd floors with the general masses in the regular elevator, she decided to fix it herself. So she spent the next five minutes hunched over, cracking open the panel and fiddling with the faulty wiring while a few flustered higher-ups hovered impatiently behind her. The task was easy enough and soon she was scanning her card and flying up in the express elevator to the top floor with several executives who knew nothing of her IT background staring at her curiously.
Felicity had hoped that would be the end of her bad morning, but sometimes hope just isn't that powerful. After quickly grabbing a coffee from the break room, she made her way to her desk and stowed her things in one of the drawers, ignoring the questioning glance she could feel Oliver shooting her way because yes, she knew she was late, thank you very much.
She dropped heavily into her chair, finding that the temp who had covered for her yesterday afternoon when she went to a dentist appointment had messed with her height adjustments, much to her displeasure. Having fixed that, she booted up her computers with a sigh, finally taking a much-needed gulp of her already lukewarm coffee. Felicity had spent the rest of her morning slogging through paperwork and making last-minute adjustments to a number of planned meetings and events for the week.
And speaking of events, it was only a few hours later that she found herself at another incredibly boring benefit luncheon, which in her opinion was not deserving of the term 'luncheon' at all. Felicity was fairly certain they only called it that to make it sound fancier than what it actually was: a benefit snack table. Dozens of platters of overly-extravagant hors d'oeuvres spread out across a silky white table cloth by the fancy catering service frequently utilized by Queen Consolidated. There weren't even any tables to sit at. The guests simply milled about with their little paper plates and waited patiently for caterers to pass by with the trays carrying flutes of expensive champagne.
And of course, because she'd been the one to set up this whole event for Oliver, Felicity had had zero time to eat her own lunch, which was currently sitting abandoned in a paper bag inside her desk drawer at QC, several blocks from there. So she was understandably famished and didn't blame herself in the slightest for staring longingly at said hors d'oeuvre table as she stood off to the side of the banquet hall and kept up her appearance as Oliver Queen's good little EA.
The benefit itself was one of the more casual ones they'd ever held, dedicated to fixing up troubled school districts in the Glades, so Felicity was dressed simply in a knee-length navy dress with a white floral pattern, her hair up in its customary straightened ponytail and glasses resting solidly on the bridge of her nose. No need to go all out, she'd told herself. It wasn't as if this was one of the grandiose galas she was occasionally forced to attend. Still, she was pleased to note that she didn't stand out much in regards to her attire. All of the men wore suits, per usual, but most of the women were no more gussied up than she was, dressed more for business than for making an aesthetic - yet no less powerful - impression.
Eventually the groups of wealthy elite began gravitating more towards the food, so Felicity figured it wouldn't be unacceptable for her to do so as well. She glanced around the room and spotted Oliver several feet away, chatting with a man who looked old enough to have lived through both world wars and projecting an air of what she could tell was forced politeness. Still slightly bitter over the fact that he'd just sprung this benefit on her not two days before, she decided to leave him there to suffer for a little while longer and slowly made her way over to the food. Admittedly, she would say the benefit was going pretty well for something she'd just hurriedly tossed together. On her last count, they'd already raised enough money to take care of one entire school district. Now, Felicity was just relieved that the planning part was over and she could relax for a moment. She was still a little frazzled after this morning but at least her day seemed to be calming down some.
Absentmindedly scanning the selection of foods she couldn't even begin to identify, Felicity kept an eye out for any potential crises that might need snuffing out. Oliver had migrated to another group of rich people with whom he needed to make nice to attract donations, looking no less uncomfortable than the last time she'd spotted him. She would give him a few more minutes before rescuing him with some excuse about needing to speak with him. For now, she grabbed one of the small paper plates and loaded it with some random bite-sized items that looked vaguely appetizing. She popped some kind of cheese and cracker arrangement into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
Arrow business had been relatively calm as of late and she knew they all were grateful for the reprieve, no matter how brief it could end up being. She and Digg were going home fully exhausted every night, and even if he didn't say it or show it, she was well aware that Oliver had to be in desperate need of more rest as well. She just wished he would take more opportunities to do so because his health must surely be taking a toll. She contemplated how much wasted effort it would be to try to convince him to take a nap in the lair later.
Stepping off to the side of the table, Felicity made another casual survey of the room, glad to see all was still in order, before distractedly stuffing a small puff pastry into her mouth. Honestly, for such an exorbitant price, she'd expected the flavors to be a little more exciting to her palate.
Too late, however, she tasted something she definitely should not be tasting. By the time her brain registered what it was, she could already feel the pastry sliding down her throat and dread pooling in her gut. Nuts. Why did it have to be nuts? She had specifically checked the box marked 'nut free' on the catering order form. For a moment, Felicity was just furious.
Then the panic set in.
The tickle at the back of her throat quickly evolved into an itchy heat that spread through her mouth. Her tongue felt thick, and as the plate fell from her trembling fingers, Felicity was reminded anew of just how much this feeling sucked. She though for a fleeting second that it was really a shame she'd left her purse - and by extension her emergency EpiPen - back in her desk with her lunch, and that of all the ways she'd imagined she could die given how she spent her nights, death by anaphylactic shock at a Queen Consolidated luncheon-that-wasn't-really-a-luncheon had honestly never crossed her mind.
It wasn't until she'd stumbled and nearly collapsed to her knees as the act of drawing air into her lungs became more and more of a struggle that someone actually took notice of the EA. Felicity vaguely registered that the lovely older woman in the charcoal pantsuit was asking if she was all right and then she actually was on her knees, left hand still white-knuckling the hors d'oeuvre table. Her wide eyes flicked frantically over the multiplying faces hovering over her until, finally, they landed on Oliver unapologetically shoving his way through the crowd to kneel at her side.
"Felicity?!"
His voice sounded more panicked than she had ever heard it before in the almost two years she'd known him. Which, granted, probably was the last thing she should be noticing while dying an actually quite embarrassing death in front of a bunch of rich strangers, but her mind sometimes worked in mysterious ways.
"Felicity!"
His hands were on either side of her face now while her own clutched desperately at her heaving chest.
"Someone call 9-1-1!"
"Oliv-" she gasped, falling back on her rear end. "Nuts. Oliver-"
She blinked and then he was gone, leaving her wondering if she had just been hallucinating for a second because she knew he was fast, but not that fast, right? But then he was suddenly there again and the contents of a first aid kit were spilling across her lap as he wrenched it open so hard the hinges snapped off.
The last thing she registered before the lack of oxygen finally caused her to pass out was a gentle hand supporting her neck while something decidedly sharp pressed into her thigh.
When she came to, the first thing Felicity heard was the rhythmic beeping that signified she was in a hospital. Her throat was sore and her breath a little wheezy, but she was pleased to note she wasn't dead. She felt a weight against her right hip and fingers laced through hers, which she wiggled experimentally. The other fingers tightened in response.
Slowly, she opened her eyes against the bright fluorescent hospital lighting and turned her head. She blinked a few times, realizing she was no longer wearing her glasses, but she would recognize that profile anywhere.
Oliver was, to her surprise, dozing against her side, and her heart melted a little at the (albeit blurry) sight. Who knew it would take her almost dying at a company benefit for him to finally allow himself to take a nap? Without thinking, she reached out her free hand to gently run her fingers through his short hair. He stirred for a minute, brows furrowing in his sleep as his hand gripped even more tightly to her own.
"Oliver?" she whispered.
His head shot up at that, eyes widening to take in the sight of her and then they were softening as he flashed her one of his rare genuine smiles.
"Felicity," he replied, and the way he said her name caused her heart to flutter in her chest of its own free will. And of course, the heart monitor picked up on the change and broadcasted it for all to hear. A fierce blush colored her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut.
Oliver's warm chuckle made her open them again.
"How are you feeling?"
Felicity frowned, wincing as she responded. "Sorry I ruined your benefit. It was going so well." Her voice came out more of a croak than anything. She tried to cough to clear it, but all that accomplished was making her eyes tear up in pain.
Hastily, Oliver reached for the glass of water resting on the bedside table and brought the straw up to her lips. She was caught off guard by the attentiveness, but tilted her head to sip at it anyway, allowing the cool liquid to sooth her scratchy throat.
"Thanks," she whispered after she pulled back.
Oliver smiled sadly. "You didn't ruin the benefit, Felicity. It wasn't your fault the catering company screwed up." He paused, then added, "And we are never ordering from them again."
Felicity frowned again. "But-"
"Hey," he interrupted, fingers reaching up to trail softly along her jaw. It was just a whisper of a touch, sending chills up her spine that she prayed he hadn't noticed. She'd embarrassed herself enough today, thank you.
"Don't worry about it," Oliver continued, fingers dropping from her cheek to tangle again with hers. His clear blue eyes brightened a little. "In fact, I think your accident was what compelled everyone to fork up enough money to let them escape the benefit as soon as possible. We reached our goal before I'd even gotten all the way inside the ambulance."
At that stark reminder, the light in his eyes dimmed again as he focused them on her weak smile.
"You almost died," he whispered.
The emotion she could sense in those three words almost threatened to choke her and she had to avert her eyes from his for a moment and get a grip. When she looked up again, she saw he was still staring at her in that way that made her insides tingle inexplicably, and she had to fight not to look away again under the intensity.
"You saved me," she replied finally. "If you weren't a super fast vigilante hero, I probably would be dead." She tried to keep her tone teasing in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it fell flat, and she resigned herself to the heavy atmosphere. "You saved me," she repeated. "Just like you always do."
Finally, his gaze dropped from her face, settling somewhere near their joined hands in her lap. His left hand reached back towards the bedside table, returning with her glasses this time instead of the water. He flicked them open and settled them gently on her face.
"You almost died, Felicity," he practically ground out as his hand returned to its death grip on the fabric covering his knee. "And this time it was something I couldn't even protect you from. I can't take down allergies with a bow and arrow."
Felicity's breath caught. "Oliver, I-"
"Don't," he cut in. "Don't apologize. Please," he whispered.
She was pretty sure her heart was in her throat at this point and she briefly and foolishly wondered if the monitor would be able to detect it up there.
"Please," Oliver said again, and she wasn't sure he was just asking her not to apologize this time. Felicity refocused her eyes on his and had to choke back a yelp at the intensity she witnessed in their blue depths.
"I can't lose you, Felicity," he confessed, voice so soft she had to struggle to hear his words. "You're my light."
The most she could manage in response was a quiet "Okay," and she silently chastised herself for being unable to say more. All those moments when she just couldn't shut up and this had to be the one time she could.
So Felicity settled for smiling and giving his hand a light squeeze and just being his light without words, if only for a little while. She encouraged him to lay his head back down on her lap and rest, hands still locked together while the two of them slept, which is how Digg found them half an hour later, when he pulled the hospital room door shut with a soft click and a small smirk on his face.
I've read several Arrow fanfics recently and though I've loved them all, I was bothered by something that popped up in a surprising number of them. It was included in many of the fics I read when the story dictated it necessary of course, but also, despite the fact that it's 100% canon that Felicity is allergic to them, I read more than one fic in which she ate something containing nuts with zero mention of that fact. It was just kind of weird because I found myself thinking that they'd essentially just killed her even though the story continued on. I was more amused by this than anything else, I guess, but it just got me thinking about it and I wanted to write a drabble-y type thing centered around this minor aspect of Felicity that has nothing to do with the thrilling yet emotionally damaging story arc currently taking place on the show. So this is what came of that. I hope you enjoyed this and I would appreciate reviews if you're in the mood to provide them. Also, if you're interested, I plan on posting the first chapter of an Olicity AU fic soon and I'd love for people to read that too. That being said, these are my first ever Arrow fanfics so hopefully I have done the characters justice in writing them. Okay, rambling AN over. Thank you for reading!
P.S. If anyone is interested, I'd be willing to write Oliver's point of view. Just let me know and I'll do it if enough people want it.
