Chapter 1: Bringin' down the house (or so to speak)

Felicity Smoak wanted to scream, but no one would have heard her.

And that was because her asshole neighbor Oliver Queen hadn't been considerate enough to oil the bedsprings of his bed. Or buy a padded headboard. Or, you know, refrain from bringing a chick who was shouting like her fucking vagina was on fire at three in the fucking morning. Which, for all Felicity knew, could have been happening. They had been going at it for like two hours already and the groaning of his bed springs still hadn't slowed, so it was entirely possible that the friction had started a fire.

She'd never actually met her neighbor, but she'd seen him before. He was her boss's son, after all, so she would see him wander around the office every so often. She also saw his mug on the tabloids every time she was in line at the grocery store, speculating which supermodel he was flaunting as his girlfriend at the moment.

So from his very public reputation as a playboy and a billionaire brat, it shouldn't have surprised Felicity when he turned out to be the worst neighbor in all of existence.

It's not like she really could have seen it coming, though, because she hadn't been living there for very long. It had only been a couple of months, but she picked her new apartment as a sort of celebration. It was one of the most expensive complexes in Starling City, with a state-of-the-art security system, 24-hour indoor pool, gym and laundry facilities, complete with covered parking, balconies and walk-in closets the size of her old apartment. After she scored the promotion, she and her best friend celebrated by packing up all her shit and moving her into the snazzy new apartment she could now afford.

But if she'd known that it came with living right next door to Oliver Queen and his never-ending parade of women with the thinnest wall imaginable, she probably would have thought twice.

The girl let out another wall-shaking scream, this time followed by Oliver's primal grunt, which caused Felicity to roll over in her bed with a groan and press one of her pillows over her head. For Christ's sake, it was three in the goddamn morning. Tomorrow was Thursday. She still had to work.

The creak of the bedsprings started intensifying, and Felicity finally broke. That was it, she fumed to herself. That was the last straw. She couldn't take it anymore. She'd been showing up to work exhausted every day for the past two months because her neighbor couldn't keep it in his pants. Her coworkers started asking about her health, and she'd already blown her entire monthly budget for makeup on bottles of concealer to hide the gray bags under her eyes.

No, enough was enough, she thought as she reached toward her bedside table for the pad of paper she kept in a drawer. Then she snatched a nearby pen and started writing.

Mr. Queen,

I am your next-door-neighbor whom you've never officially met. I'm writing to you at three in the morning to the soundtrack of your violent lovemaking to tell you that, while I'm happy for you and your flourishing sex life, I must protest at the loudness of your guests, your bed springs and your head board.

I understand that you've had everything in your life handed to you, but there are some people who have to work, and those people generally don't appreciate being awoken by your ape-like grunts in the middle of the night, the day before a big presentation. In fact, those people would generally agree that there's really no place for that amount of yelling at three in the morning. And unless you're ranting against the sexist patriarchal practices of modern society, no woman should be agreeing with you that loudly at three in the morning either.

I've enclosed several items with this note. First, is an extra small condom that fits odd shapes (because someone who has as much sex as you do has to be trying to prove something), and second, is some WD-40 for your bed springs. Please use both.

Or you could try to refrain from having wild animal sex at three in the morning on a fucking Wednesday night.

Felicity

P.S. She was definitely faking it.

When she was finished with her letter, she folded it up and stuck it under her glasses on her bedside table. Then she rolled over on her side with her pillow firmly over her head in an attempt to drown out the noise.

God, she hated this guy.

Oliver Queen had been the recipient of many a passive-aggressive note in his day, but none quite so passive-aggressive as this. This...this was a whole new level.

He glanced up from the letter to peer into his bedroom. Lana had long since left, but the sheets were still in tangles from their "violent lovemaking" the night before. Then he looked up in thought as he recalled the previous night.

In all honesty, he hadn't been paying attention to how loud Lana had been. He'd been paying attention to...well, to other things. So for all he knew, they both could have brought down the house with their screaming. Or, as this Felicity person pointed out, his ape-like grunting.

The note amused him more than anything. From her pointed word choice to her insulting gifts, Felicity's anger made him chuckle. Just as he'd received a lot of passive-aggressive letters in his past, he'd also been on the receiving end of a lot of insults — most of them not at all clever.

This woman was far cleverer than most of the people who hated him, which was a very refreshing change of pace.

He tried to picture this Felicity person in his head. He couldn't remember having ever seen her in the hall or around the building. And like she mentioned in her letter, she had a job and one that probably required normal business hours. Considering he usually didn't roll out of bed until just before noon, there was very little chance he'd catch her while she was in her apartment.

In his head, he imagined this Felicity person was homely. She seemed like a short woman, with dull, stringy brown hair and glasses that took up half her face, with weird hunched shoulders and a closet full of mustard yellow cardigans. She had to be at least in her mid-fifties, because Felicity was such an old person's name. And she probably had a bunch of cats on the other side of that wall, too.

Well, regardless of what she looked like, he had to return this favor in kind. Having a smart, angry neighbor to mess with was too good an opportunity to pass up. Besides, ever since Thea moved away to college, he didn't have anyone to pick on anymore.

After a few seconds of thought, he sat down to his kitchen table and pulled his notepad closer to him. A letter as comical as this deserved an equal response.

Dear Felicity,

I'm sorry to hear that your night was not quite as enjoyable as mine. I suppose not all of us were blessed with my charm and talent in the boudoir, but surely those are some skills you will learn in the future.

In the mean time, I want to take the time to express my gratitude for your gifts. You're correct in your assertion that my bed springs do need a bit of lubrication. After all, as I'm sure you've heard, they go through the wringer pretty much every night. As for the condom — thank you very much for your concern, but I have it taken care of. But this will come in handy the next time my shower head leaks.

To return your gracious favor, I have included a few items that might come in handy for you. Enclosed is a bottle of my favorite lubrication and a powerful laxative. I guarantee this lubrication is one of the best on the market, and it should definitely help you remove that stick up your ass. And if that doesn't work, the laxative should take care of it for you.

Thanks again for your kind gifts.

Oliver

P.S. The stains on my sheets tell a very different story.

After he finished the note, he read it over to make sure it was of the caliber as the one he received. When he was finished, he smiled to himself and started getting ready for another night out on the town.

Maybe this time Lana would be willing to bring a friend. And maybe he'd make sure to pound both of them against that shared wall.

A/N: Hi! This is my first Arrow/Olicity fanfic and I'm kinda nervous about it but ALSO pretty excited about it. Please let me know what you think! Also come and find me on Tumblr at entersomethingcleverhere.