Title: (When the Working Day is Done) Oh Girls, They Wanna Have Fun
Category: Arrow
Genre: Humor, Romance, Adventure
Ship(s): Olicity + a whole bunch of brOTPs
Rating: PG-13/Teen
Summary: (au, Olicity) The Arrow is taking down a particularly dangerous target—and losing—when he is saved by Starling City's other vigilante, who happens to double as a Queen Consolidated IT expert.
Warning: Mentions of bullying and touching, depictions of violence, some love, and some potty language.
A/N: I felt like Felicity knew so much about computers that she had to be a pretty smart tech person in general. And then I had this idea, and then…this thing happened. Forgive me if it's completely random in the beginning. I wrote the first part in the middle of the night and couldn't come up with a more plausible idea. Also I like 80s music.
They called her Pink Panther, for her movements were like that of a cat (apparently, since she always felt more like an elephant in a track uniform) and her suit had pink paneling on the sides. It was always, The Pink Panther strikes again! as though she robbed a bank instead of saving it.
It was surprising that nobody connected the dots. The way that both Pink Panther and Felicity Smoak dyed their hair blond at the same time and the way that they were both petite. But, Felicity supposed, IT girls didn't usually use butterfly knives (her weapon of choice) and bungee from one building to another.
Felicity returned money to its rightful owner, keeping a little for herself just in case. She knocked out and tied people up (never killing) if they needed to return what didn't belong to them.
It truth, she had to thank the dumbass billionaire that started it all. She had quite a bit of beef with the Queen family, them being the ones who a.) stole a lot of money from her father, causing him to up and leave as well as b.) smacked her around in high school.
While she had been pushed around a lot, she did learn a few things. Punches and kicks had gotten her into a self-defense class, which in turn got her into Esrkrima and weapons training.
And then there was a trip to the bank where she managed to knock out three robbers and lock them in the vault.
Things just spiraled from there. Next thing that happened, she was throwing daggers around people's heads for information and dangling them off of buildings so they would return money or diamonds or gold to the people in need. She was practically creating the middle class.
And she had been doing just fine, until some green hood had come to town, right around the time that Oliver Queen was resurrected. If Oliver Queen had any talent at, well, anything (besides being a jackass kid with no sense of morals), she might have thought that they were the same person.
One night, she was just minding her own business, tying criminals to flagpoles and all that when she landed on a roof. Below her, on the balcony, was the vigilante/hood/whatever. A man in black had him pinned to the ground and was pointing a gun to his head.
Should she save him? Yes. Could she fight off the other guys with her knife and tools? Probably. What was holding her back? The fact that she might see his face. It was a lot easier to hate a faceless guy than someone with a personality. Seeing their face makes them human, and if she were to see his, fights against him might become compromised.
Eventually, though, good character beat out logical thinking, and Felicity Smoak launched herself forward. She landed on the man's shoulders and he fell to his knees, surprised by the sudden force. Felicity took this as an opportunity to stab him. The knife didn't hit his thigh, like she had been aiming for. Instead, it pierced his hip.
The man flipped her over and aimed a punch at her face. Instinct took over and she snapped her head to the right. With her wrists pinned down, she kicked her knee in-between his legs, to no avail. He backhanded her across the cheek, splitting it open and letting blood flow freely. Felicity's vision became blurry and the man was about to smash her temple with his fist when a bow came out of nowhere, smacking him in the head and knocking him out.
Green Guy was standing there, grease paint covering his eyes and a hood casting a shadow over his face.
"You saved me," he said, voice deep and throaty. Felicity nodded.
"Same to you."
"Thank you."
Again, Felicity nodded before picking herself up. She hopped onto the next building's rooftop, landing with an ungraceful thud before continuing her journey into the night.
.
.
In high school, Felicity was the type of girl that Oliver Queen's friends would push around, touching her, trying to see how far she would let them go. They never actually did any of that touching, but they came close once. If Laurel Lance hadn't popped up and asked Jeremy Dawson what the hell he was doing with a hand running over her neck, she might have ended up losing a lot behind the bleachers.
So of course, Jeremy saw Laurel, and Laurel's status as Oliver Queen's beautiful significant other, and backed off.
Felicity started taking self-defense classes after school. In-between being a complete nerd and having her mother bringing drunk men home every night (one of them even asked if she wanted to join when she was fourteen; um, ew) she had to learn her way around a fight.
She actually used her skills in high school once when Sara Lance was picking on her. Sure, she had her house egged for a month after that and ended up being embarrassed more than she cared to admit, but Sara had been a bitch, and that was that.
. .
Three months later
"Felicity Smoak?"
No freaking way.
The blonde looked away from her computer to find Oliver Queen looking at her. He had long since ditched the Ken doll haircut, but his eyes were still blue. Like, really blue. And familiar. Probably from when he was torturing you in high school, a vengeful little voice in the back of her brain told her. But…she had seen them somewhere. Recently. Maybe on TV?
"Hi. I'm Oliver Queen."
Felicity snorted. Who didn't know that? "Of course. I mean, I know who you are. You're Mr. Queen."
"No, Mr. Queen was my father," he insisted. So now he had manners?
"Right, but he's dead. I mean, he drowned. But you didn't, and that's why you can come down to the IT department and listen to me babble. Which will end in three…two one."
God, Felicity. Why can't you close your mouth for once?
Oliver was glancing at her, slightly amused.
"I'm having some trouble with my computer and they told me that you were the person to come and see," Oliver told her.
He held out a battered laptop with…what the hell? Where those bullet holes?
"I was at my coffee shop surfing the web and I spilt a latte on it."
"Really?" Felicity asked, raising and eyebrow. "Because these look like bullet holes."
"My coffee shop's in a bad neighborhood," Oliver explained.
Um, wow. His cover stories were shit.
"If there is anything you can salvage from it," he continued, humor in his eyes, "I would really appreciate it."
Felicity shot him one last look, a chance to explain what the hell was happening, but he didn't take it. So she answered with a simple "Mm-hmm," to cover up her shock.
The laptop…there had been something on the news with the vigilante and a crime scene, and the laptop was missing and—holy shit.
Oliver Queen was the vigilante.
Felicity had saved Oliver Queen's ass.
Well, shit.
But it wasn't like she could advertise her vigilante status or say, "Hey, your friend almost raped me once. Remember that?" because, really, that was a part of her life she wanted to forget. And if he was the vigilante and was saving people's lives, he was probably not {or at least less of} a pompous ass.
Right?
Felicity smiled in spite of herself, placing the laptop on the table.
Right.
A/N: I don't even know what this is. I might continue if people like it, but even if I do the updates will be spastic and infrequent. Lemme know if you'd keep reading.
