Author's note: Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews! I know AU can be tough for some to get into so I appreciate everyone who has made the effort. I apologize for any errors in this chapter, I just simply don't have enough time to do all of the editing I'd like to. And don't get too thrown off by the PR angle of the story, it won't be the focus for too long as the story will have more drama soon. Hope you enjoy!
John Diggle was an enforcer on the ice. Bring the puck into his zone, and he'd introduce your face to the glass and your body to the boards. The brutal impact would reverberate throughout the Garden. Though at this moment, it wasn't that particular crowd-pleasing sound echoing through the Player's Lounge, it was his booming laughter.
"Oliver my man, you are your own worst enemy, you know that?"
The two sat slumped in over-stuffed chairs, physically exhausted from their grueling practice. Oliver had asked to speak to Diggle after they'd showered and dressed, which led them here, sipping protein water in the team's lounge.
The room looked like an exclusive country club 'men's only' cigar room; Forrest green walls, gleaming dark wood wainscoting and matching ceiling trim, even the various assorted chairs and tables screamed manly-man. Like everything else in hockey, the lounge had a nickname, The Sac, because most players sat relaxed and scratching theirs while in it.
Clearly displeased with his best friend and Assistant Captain, Oliver merely glared at him in response.
Diggle - a 6'4, 250 pound wall of muscle - was not intimidated. "Seriously, you know I'm always on your side, Ollie, but you've been epically stupid lately and getting assigned a babysitter is well-deserved."
This wasn't the response Oliver had been hoping for. He tipped his head back, resting it on the back of his chair while his eyes scanned the ceiling. "You were supposed to say you'd talk to Walter for me."
The truth was, Diggle didn't like the way his friend had been behaving, and while he wasn't sure this was the smartest way to address it, he was happy something was being done. "And say what Ollie?"
Oliver sighed, frustrated at Diggle, frustrated at Walter, but truth be told, royally pissed-off at himself. "Never mind, you talking to Walter wouldn't make a difference. This is my crap to clean up."
Diggle's expression softened, he hated seeing his best friend go through this but didn't know how to help. "Just play nice. Do what Walter asks, do what this Felicity woman says and just be done with it."
Unable to keep still in mind or body, Oliver leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He watched the remaining contents of his protein water swirl as it dangled from his grasp.
Not able to even muster a verbal response, Oliver simply nodded in reluctant agreement.
Trying to find any kind of silver-lining, Diggle asked, "So what is this Felicity Smoak like?"
Knowing his friend was making an effort to try and find some positives, Oliver made an attempt to snap out of his melancholy. He thought back to meeting the woman a few hours ago.
"Blonde, blue-eyed ... awkward." He sighed, "I could probably make her life miserable, she doesn't seem to have a backbone."
The side of Diggle's mouth hitched, knowing his friend. "But you won't, so what are you going to do?"
Oliver half-heartedly smiled, "Mostly avoid her, do the bare minimum until Walter calls her off -"
"Calls who off?" Roy Harper, left wing and current number-one party-boy of the Highlanders stopped as he was passing through the Player's Lounge - adjusting its namesake and wearing that red hoodie he wore everywhere.
Oliver groaned. Roy may currently be occupying the top spot on Walter's "Players I Want to Strangle" list, but he really didn't want the rookie knowing he'd secured a spot on that list as well.
Attempting to throw him off the scent, Oliver chastised, "You were about 2 seconds slow on every play today, Harper. Go home and get some rest."
Roy bit back a smart-ass comment about his Captain's photo-spread in the Daily News. He may be a "rookie" but he was doing his best to learn restraint. Then there was the fact that he was kind of in awe of Oliver. No matter what happened in the guy's personal life, he was unstoppable on the ice.
"Will do, Cap." Not able to fully restrain himself, he had to at least allude to the pictures, "That's a nice suit you're wearing."
Oliver's eyes slowly lifted to his least favorite winger, knowing full well the punk was referring to the fact he was wearing the same clothes from the night before - the kid must have seen the pictures.
Oliver stood, barely containing his irritation. He took a few steps toward Roy who had the good sense to take a few steps back.
Then, in sudden contrast to his black mood, Oliver came to a jarring stop.
And his smile spread.
One second he was ready to punch the kid, and the next he was positively giddy with a new thought. Oliver had been so involved in his own drama, he'd been somewhat remiss in his off-ice ... responsibilities.
The season started weeks ago and they'd yet to haze the rookies.
Not ready to share his new thought with Roy, he feigned disinterest in the rookie's taunting. "Thanks Roy, maybe one day when you grow up, you can buy one too."
Roy swallowed. He just watched some weird transformation in Oliver from scary to eerily happy and it made him very uncomfortable.
Seeing discomfort in the kid - and remembering all too well what it was like to be the young-gun on the team - Oliver used his free hand to playfully cuff Roy on the shoulder. "I'm just teasing; I deserve a little crap this morning. No hard feelings."
Roy's sigh was audible, his body slumping with relief. He even managed a smile at his Captain's teasing. "You scared me there for a second." Feeling the need to make sure they were okay, Roy added. "You know I look up to you. I know you can teach me a lot and I really look forward to -"
With an eye-roll, Oliver turned to place his protein water on one of the many nearby tables. "Quit while you're ahead, Harper, no one likes a kiss-ass."
Diggle had stayed out of the exchange until now, seeing his chance to further smooth the waters by pretending to align with the rookie - he took his shot at Oliver. "Seriously Harper, I mean come on, we all saw the paper and we know it isn't Ollie's ass he likes kissed."
Roy laughed, grateful for the assistant captain taking a little heat off of him.
Oliver was even amused. In fact, in years past he was known to be a team prankster.
Which reminded him...
"Alright Roy, Diggle and I have to talk about some stuff for tomorrow's game, get lost." Then he snapped his fingers in that universal gesture of suddenly remembering something you forgot. "And don't forget to valet your car for morning skate; they're doing construction on the player's lot so the valets will park your car."
Not wanting to admit he didn't remember this, Roy acted like it was old news, "Yeah, sure, no problem."
With a wave, the 20-something left.
Diggle looked at Oliver and raised his brows, silently inquiring what that last exchange was about. When all he got in response from Oliver was an evil grin he finally asked, "They aren't doing construction, why do you want him to valet his car?"
Feigning a somber attitude, Oliver placed his hand on Diggle's shoulders, "We've let our new players down, Diggle." He tilted his head to the side as if pondering something serious, "I can't let that go on. Our rookies need some welcoming, and nothing says welcome to the NHL like a little hazing."
And just like that, the evil grin was back.
Diggle instantly became apprehensive, "Do I even want to know what you're thinking, Oliver?"
Oliver removed his hand from Diggle's shoulder to pull his cell phone from his jacket pocket. Scrolling, he hit the contact he wanted to call before holding up his index finger, indicating Diggle should hold his thoughts for a minute.
When his assistant answered, Oliver set his plan in motion. "Hello Marcie, best assistant in the world," he laughed, she clearly had said something caustic, "No, I'm not buttering you up...okay, maybe I am."
Diggle tried to get his attention again; Oliver waved him off and continued on. "I need your help, is there any way you can get me like 500 condoms by tonight?"
Now Diggle really tried to get his attention, motioning for Ollie to stop talking by drawing a hand across his own neck but Oliver was having too much fun.
"Yes, Marcie, I need 500 condoms, I have big plans."
Diggle gave up trying to be subtle and grabbed Oliver by the shoulders, turning him to face the door Roy had just left through.
And his eyes met Felicity Smoak's.
Casually leaning against the door jamb with her arms folded, the irritating woman simply raised her brows in question before mockingly mouthing "500?"
Oliver ended his call. "Gotta go, Marcie, I'll call you back later."
Diggle had been with the Highlanders for 8 years, he knew everyone in the organization so by process of elimination, this must be Felicity Smoak. He also knew his best friend needed a second to re-group.
Walking to the woman, Diggle extended his hand, "Hello Ms. Smoak, I'm John Diggle."
Felicity had done her homework, she knew all the players and by contrast to Oliver Queen's antics, Diggle was a family man. Married, three kids, house in suburbia, he was the least of her worries which made an unconscious warmth emanate from her to him.
"It's wonderful to meet you, I know a great deal about you Mr. Diggle." Releasing his hand, she took a few steps further into the room. "Besides being one hell of a Defensemen, you're a PR girls' fantasy; great Dad, loyal husband, total stand-up guy."
Diggle all but blushed, uncomfortable with the praise. "Thanks, but call me John."
She nodded, "Please do the same, it's Felicity."
For some reason Oliver found himself irritated by the lovefest before him. His voice held a slight edge as he directed his question at their new guest, "Were you looking for me?"
Bringing her gaze to his as if she'd forgotten he was there, Felicity answered. "Oh - sorry, yes. I was hoping we could meet for a bit before you left. There are some things I want to discuss with you."
Oliver checked his Rolex.
Felicity became inexplicably irritated by the gesture, she wasn't sure if it was the flashy Rolex, or the implication she was keeping him from something more important. Her tone may have been a bit scolding when she added, "I know you've got 'big plans' for tonight, but I'm relatively certain anything involving you and 500 condoms cannot be good."
That's it, now he was angry, it wasn't her words, it was her tone. He wasn't a 6 year-old who needed a time out.
Stepping just a fraction too close, he tried to intimidate the little nun. "Oh, I don't know Ms. Smoak, I've been told when condoms are involved, the things I do are very, very good."
Oh-for-Pete-Sake, how did she do these things to herself? Desperate not to allow her mind to go there, she tried to think of something painful, totally distracting. Sticking a fork in her eye!
Except her body naturally reacted, closing the one eye she'd just imagined poking.
Oliver pulled back, confusion stamped in his features, she was supposed to cower. "Did you just wink at me?"
"No!" Felicity took several steps back, "It was my contact, my contacts are bothering me."
Oliver scowled in disbelief. "You're wearing glasses."
Flailing her hands dismissively, she retorted. "I just meant I thought my contact was bothering me, I forgot about the glasses, something must have been in my eye."
Watching this show with his mouth open, Diggle finally regained his composure. He'd been shocked by his friend's obvious sexual innuendo used to intimidate - that wasn't Oliver's style, and completely confused by the duos clear dislike for each other when neither knew the other.
"Ah, hey you two, here's an idea, why don't you start again."
Grasping at anything, Felicity faced Diggle. "Wonderful idea, John."
She turned her attention back to the man who could make or break her career and took a deep, clarifying, long breath.
"Mr. Queen, let's just ... move on." Felicity motioned to a nearby table and chairs, indicating they should sit.
Having no idea what just happened - and not really sure he wanted to; Oliver took the olive branch the woman offered and joined her at the table.
The sooner he played nice and got this over with, the sooner she'd be out of his life.
After John Diggle's not so subtle departure - he clapped Oliver on the shoulder and told him to 'play nice' before leaving - Felicity took a moment to ground herself before beginning.
Oliver stared.
Felicity stared right back.
As the silence stretched on, Oliver sighed in annoyance, checking his watch again.
It took all Felicity had not to kick his shin with the point of her shoe. He hadn't chosen to sit across the table from her; rather he sat next to her, turning his chair to face hers.
Taking yet another deep, cleansing breath - something she sensed she'd be doing a lot around this frustrating man - Felicity painted a smile on her face. "Mr. Queen -"
"It's Oliver, we discussed this earlier today."
Biting back a retort at his condescending tone, Felicity responded, "Right. In that case, Oliver, let's start again."
Suddenly just too tired to continue sniping, Felicity's posture deflated with fatigue. She hoped he could hear the sincerity in her tone, "We are on the same side here, we want the same things."
Oliver doubted that. He wanted to be left alone. She wanted to be in his face 24/7 making him do tricks for the media. Still, he could tell the woman was making a genuine effort and it wasn't her fault Walter hired her.
Resigned, Oliver nodded as his body relaxed as well. "I know. And I apologize Ms. Smoak."
At the use of her formal full name, she quirked and eyebrow and smiled, reminding him of his 'earlier conversation' snark from two seconds ago.
He couldn't help but lightly laugh, "Sorry, I meant Felicity."
For the first time he saw her true smile, it transformed her already cute features into so much more.
The woman was beautiful.
Not that it mattered, entanglements of any kind were the last thing he needed - especially with this woman.
Returning his focus to the task at hand, Oliver questioned, "Exactly what did Walter say was your job?"
Hating to break their semi-truce, but sensing he needed her to be honest, Felicity laid it out for him. "He wants you back as "the face" of the organization. Right now he feels like he has to hide you because of your recent headlines. They make you fodder for trashy magazines and mockery - which in turn affects the team's image and ultimately, their ticket sales."
Oliver frowned, "I hardly believe my personal life affects ticket sales."
"Ah, but it will." Felicity pushed her glasses back up her nose, "You see you set the tone. Walter told me both Roy Harper and Derek Kraig have showed up to morning skate hungover - twice in the last 10 days."
Oliver waved a dismissive hand, "But that is no reason to hire someone like you. I know I have to set the tone. I know the young guys look up to me and as the Captain and I need to fly right."
Felicity tilted her head to the side, sympathy etched in her features as well as the unspoken question of 'then why aren't you?'
Irritated at his own inability to answer that question, Oliver stood and began to pace. He knew he'd been acting stupid, Walter had already told him to get his shit together weeks ago and he hadn't.
Knowing they didn't have enough of a relationship, Felicity didn't push for an answer to her silent question, instead she tried to motivate him. "This downturn you've been on has thankfully been short-lived, so provided you don't continue it, we should be able to turn things around quick."
Oliver glanced briefly in her direction but continued to pace.
Hating to ask but needing to, she pushed. "Any chance Laurel will stop her public passive-aggressive smear campaign?"
The annoying actress had taken to Twitter making incessant references to 'someone' who treated her badly, and how 'his' recent behavior showed the world 'his true colors.'
Oliver did not react how Felicity expected him to when she spoke of his ex and her recent exploits. She thought he'd bite her head off. Instead he shrugged, seemingly unaffected by either mention.
She guessed it made sense. After all, Oliver had cheated on the woman. Maybe letting her publicly rant was his way of making amends.
Men were assholes.
Not wanting her personal life to affect her professional life, again, Felicity did her best to push her own painful thoughts aside and continued on. "I'm going to call her publicist tomorrow, see if we can arrange a cease-fire."
Oliver laughed but the sound held no humor. "Good luck with that."
Not able to fully contain her 'men are assholes' reaction, Felicity prodded, "Why so resigned? Exactly how many women did you sleep with while you were dating her?"
Her snap judgment completely ticked him off.
Oliver's response was laced with bitter sarcasm and he layered in some theatrical drama for good measure. "Hundreds, maybe thousands, Felicity." He walked back toward the table, standing over her as he finished, "You know us professional athletes; women in every city, different one every night."
While his posture was relaxed - hands in his pockets, Felicity could feel the restrained anger under his surface. Something wasn't right. Why go from indifference to outright hostility when the topic hadn't changed?
She'd been in the business long enough to know things aren't always what they appear.
"If we are going to be working together on this, Oliver, I need to know what I am dealing with. What happened with you two?"
Oliver simply stared, not even blinking as he took slow, measured breaths.
Felicity watched the muscle of his jaw tick.
She'd read about the last several years of Oliver's life. He appeared to be the devoted boyfriend, accompanying his gorgeous girlfriend to every red carpet event but standing off to the side, never taking the limelight. Spending time with the actress' family, even sacrificing time with his own to be with hers. He was known to use his rare days off to visit her wherever she was.
Suddenly clarity struck. It all made sense now, his spiral downward, his remoteness.
Felicity shot to standing, nearly knocking Oliver over in the process.
"She cheated on you, didn't she?" Not waiting for his answer, her mind began churning out plans, "I will crucify her in the press."
Oliver was momentarily speechless, not simply because the woman had been one of the few who'd figured it out - and he was oddly satisfied she did - but because she seemed genuinely angry for him. She was a virtual stranger and yet she seemed ready to throw down.
Finding his voice again, Oliver felt the need to calm her even while confirming her suspicions. "Relax, I don't care about her lying."
"Well I do! Who does that? Does she not have a conscience?"
Oliver couldn't help but chuckle at her staunch defense of him, "I appreciate your outrage, I do," he decided to set the tone and displayed total calm, "but it just doesn't matter anymore."
He gestured to the seat she had been occupying moments before and sat back down himself. "Let's just get back to discussing what I have to do."
Slowly she sat, not quite understanding. "Of course it matters, why are you letting her get away with this?"
He shrugged, "It happened months ago now, but my current problem is my own stupid behavior."
"B-but she's still lying about you every chance she gets!"
Oliver was beginning to think this must have struck a chord with the woman; she was a bit too adamant in his defense.
He made a mental note to have someone look into her background a bit.
Without thinking he reached out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I truly don't care what she has to say at this point. My friends and family all support me and that's all that matters."
He withdrew his hand, realizing too late that it was a bizarrely intimate thing to do to someone he worked with - never mind one he'd just met.
Felicity knew he'd said something, so she nodded like she agreed, but in reality, as soon as his large, warm hand wrapped around hers, the only thing she was aware of was how oddly nice it felt.
Which was both shocking, and colossally stupid.
The last time she let herself enjoy an attraction she got burned, badly. That wouldn't be happening again, especially with someone she worked with.
Forcefully pushing those thoughts from her head, she returned to business. "Well, I guess if you're okay with it than I will be too - for now." She couldn't help but take one last parting shot at his ex, "But I gotta say, this is by far the best acting I've ever seen that woman do."
Oliver's laugh was loud and genuine, it felt almost rusty since it had been so long, but it also felt really, really good.
