Chapter Two

"I think you should go for it," Oliver said, leaning forward and bracing his hands on his knees. The recipient of this advice, a twelve year-old boy named Daryl, shook his head and said, "No way."

"Come on, she's cute. I saw her share that cookie with you during lunch today."

Oliver spotted a worn checkers board and quickly went over and grabbed it. Brandishing the board triumphantly, Oliver said, "This is your key, buddy. Take this over to her and ask to play a game. That was one good cookie she shared at lunch, so there's no way she's saying no."

"I'm not asking her to play checkers," Daryl returned dejectedly.

"Why not?"

"Because it's lame."

Oliver shrugged. "It's not the first move I'd go with, but you have to work with what you have. That's the first lesson in getting girls, Daryl. You need to make the most out of a situation." He handed him the checkers board. "Now, go and ask her to play. How are you at checkers?"

"Pretty good," Daryl said, his gaze drifting to the topic of their conversation and then quickly returning to Oliver. His cheeks flushed, and Oliver knew that she must have caught him looking.

"Okay, good. Let her win the first game. You can win the second, but not by too much. The third one you leave to chance. See how the game goes, if you have a nice time, then you share your cookie with her on Wednesday."

"Why not tomorrow?"

"You have to let these things simmer a bit," Oliver said reasonably. Daryl didn't look convinced, and Oliver patted him on the shoulder as he told him, "Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. My girlfriend's super hot, and I got her with these moves."

"You guys played checkers?" Daryl asked in confusion.

"Well, not exactly," Oliver said slowly. Laurel and him actually drunkenly met at some society party and had sex in the wine cellar. Somehow, he didn't think their way of meeting was age appropriate for Daryl. "Trust me, though. This will work."

Daryl nodded and took a deep breath.

"You can do this. And if you strike out, there are lots of other girls."

Daryl seemed comforted by that thought, and took another shaky breath before walking over to the girl. Oliver watched him gingerly strike up a conversation. The girl smiled and nodded.

"And he's in," Oliver murmured, doing a subtle fist pump at his side.

"Who knew you'd be such a Hitch," Felicity said, walking beside him.

He looked down at her. "You saw that, huh? Impressive, right?"

"Daryl is usually pretty shy," she said. "It's nice to see him branching out. And, admittedly, that is because of you. He's really taken to you. I even saw him trying to comb his hair like yours."

Oliver laughed, imagining Daryl trying to matt down his mess of curls. "He's a good kid. I'm happy to help out."

"You sent him on a failing mission, though," Felicity said. "The girl he wants to talk to –"

"Amber," Oliver interjected.

"Yes, Amber. She likes Robbie."

"Seriously? She likes that kid?" Oliver said in disbelief. Robbie was a fifteen year old who picked on a lot of the younger kids. Half the girls had a crush on him, but he always thought Amber seemed above it. She was a sweet girl, and kept mostly to herself. He hadn't even seen them interact.

Felicity smirked. "There's nothing wrong with Robbie."

"He's sort of a dick," Oliver said. Felicity gave him a look and he said, "Hey, circumstances don't discredit basic facts. I know kids like him. I was that kid. Daryl cannot lose to Robbie."

"It's not a competition," Felicity said slowly. "And besides, Heather likes Daryl. She talked about him for almost all of arts and crafts yesterday. You should casually mention her."

"No, he's getting Amber," Oliver said resolutely. "All my focus is now on this project."

She smirked, tilting her head to the side. "You're very invested in this relationship between twelve year olds."

"Daryl is a good kid," Oliver said. "And I think the good guy should get the girl sometimes. This is going to be one of those times."

"Whatever you say, Yentl."

Oliver let the reference hang for a moment, knowing he heard it somewhere, and then went, "Fiddler on the Roof?"

"Yes!" she said in surprise. "I didn't think you'd catch that."

"I didn't think I would either. My high school did that show. I got dragged to it by my girlfriend at the time. I haven't thought of that show in years."

Felicity's phone buzzed and she pulled it from her pocket. Oliver glanced over her shoulder, smirking when he saw a dating app open on her phone. He quickly read the open conversation and asked, "Why are you asking if this guy has a van?"

Felicity quickly pulled her phone into her chest and said, "Hey, haven't you heard that reading over people's shoulders is rude?"

"Yes, I have," Oliver answered reasonably. "Are you looking to date someone with a van? That seems oddly specific."

"No," she said reluctantly. "I'm not trying to date someone with a van. What I am trying to do is none of your business."

"Oh, this has to be good," Oliver said, bowling straight past any issue she took with him following up. "Why are you cruising a dating website for men with vans?"

Felicity sighed. "I'm moving this weekend and I need help with my boxes."

"Don't you have friends?"

She glared at him. "Of course I do. But, none of the ones with cars are available. Well, one is but I don't trust his car to make it all the way to my apartment. I looked into renting but, surprise, it's really expensive. So…"

"You're hoping to match with a nice van," Oliver finished, unable to stop the wide grin from spreading on his face. "This is the greatest thing I've ever heard. Really. Thank you for sharing this moment with me."

She rolled her eyes and told him, "I wasn't exactly a willing participant in the sharing, but you're welcome."

"You know, I have a van."

"No thank you," she said primly. "I am happy with my current plan."

"So, do these guys know that they're being used for their van?"

"I'm not using any of them. I plan on making it very clear that I am –"

"You plan?" he interjected dubiously, finishing it off with a bark of laughter. Felicity decided them that he was too amused by all of this. "You're probably talking to all of these guys, making them think that they found a nice girl who appreciates their choice in vehicle, and then they're going to have the rug pulled out from under them. I'm a little offended on their behalf."

"Okay, calm down," she said sardonically. "It is not your place to be offended on behalf of mankind. You don't represent them. I think they'd object to that, actually."

"A fine specimen of man such as myself? I doubt that."

She smirked, eyes gliding to the side and then that same smirk dipped into a frown. She crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Your perfect plan for Daryl and Amber has hit a snag."

Oliver followed her gaze and when he saw Robbie standing next to the pair, attention fully on the practically glowing Amber, said, "Mother fucker."

"Oliver!" Felicity hissed in surprise, although she couldn't help the snort that followed. "He's fifteen. You seriously need to chill out."

"Come on, Daryl, you can handle this," Oliver said, watching the exchange. "The kid's all bravado. Also, if he's anything like I was, he's easily defeated."

"Really?" Felicity asked beside him.

"Oh yeah. If anything took too much work I hightailed right out of there."

She raised her eyebrows and returned, "Fine specimen of man, huh?"

"I never claimed to be perfect," he returned with a shrug. "But I do believe my haircut is a cut above that of the general male population." Felicity snorted. "And I have an impeccably clean BMW X5. That's an SUV, by the way."

"I'm still not having you help me move."

"The lady doth protest too much."

"No," she said, tilting her head to the side. "The lady doth protest just enough. Besides, I hold my belongings in high regard. I don't know if I should entrust them with the man who was arrested for drunkenly trying to steal a yacht. Which is ridiculous, by the way. I've never even seen a yacht. I definitely can't imagine stealing one."

"They're not that exciting. It's pretty much just a boat for douchebags."

She smirked. "Of course they are."

"I told you that in confidence, you know," Oliver said, referring to the yacht incident. A week or so back, after Mickey Mouse came for a reading and Oliver cemented himself as the favorite of the kids, much to Felicity's chagrin, the two of them stayed late cleaning up and he admitted how he ended up working in the orphanage.

"You do realize that's public record, right?"

His eyes widened. "Wait, really?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Yes, Oliver, your yacht debauchery is public record. I'm surprised you haven't framed the court order."

"That's not a terrible idea," he said, rubbing his chin. "Tommy and I are in need of some wall art."

Felicity's phone dinged and she looked down. Oliver could see that it was another message from the dating site.

"Would you please just let me help you move?" Oliver asked. "When is it, this weekend? Because I just so happen to be free this weekend."

"How riveting. The answer is still no," she said drily, typing away on her phone. She paused for a second and then swore under her breath. "Of course you're out of town this weekend," she mumbled.

"He's probably not. He probably just, you know, doesn't want to help a stranger move. Unless you're offering favors. Which, for the record, I would not expect after said helping."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not offering sexual favors."

Felicity noticed a little girl, around five years old, watching her with curious eyes, and Felicity quickly stammered, "Which are favors of the…biological…nature. And are something you, Lilah, should not worry about ever. How about a juicebox?"

Lilah nodded her head timidly. "Yes, please."

"Alright." Felicity cast a sheepish look toward Oliver and said. "It's juice time."

"Well, I can't get in the way of that."

Felicity whisked Lilah off toward the kitchen, and Oliver glanced back at his protégé. He was pleased to see that Robbie had sulked off somewhere else, and Daryl and Heather were animatedly taking part in their checker game. He spotted Robbie begin head back their way, and Oliver pulled aside one of the teenagers and said, "I'll get you an ice cream bar if you play interference with Robbie there."

"One with chocolate?" the kid countered, gaze firm. "And nuts."

"Yeah, whatever. One with chocolate and nuts."

"You've got a deal." The kid stuck out his hand and Oliver shook it firmly.

BBBBB

Felicity hated moving. Everything about it made her skin crawl, from the reserved freight elevator times to the endless cardboard boxes. There were so many opportunities for everything to go to shit, and then there was her current problem that she had no idea how she was going to move all of her stupid cardboard boxes to her new place. She also didn't know if it would fit. She'd finally saved enough money to get a place of her own, and it was practically a postage stamp of an apartment. But it was hers, and she decided the minute she found it that she'd do whatever she could to make it work. She was over living with her mother, who was a wonderful parent but a less than wonderful roommate. Her mother had the cleaning skills of someone who was never taught to clean – which might have been the case, Felicity had never actually met her grandparents – and she had a penchant for deep one in the morning conversations when Felicity had work early. But, she was her mother, so Felicity put up with it, like one did for someone they loved, but she'd reached her limit. It was time for Felicity to forge her own path, and she couldn't have been happier. Except for the boxes. And the stupid freight elevator, which was currently forty minutes over schedule from the person using it before her.

"I say we just grab it next time it's down here," her friend Lydia said. She didn't have a van to borrow – which was remedied by a stupidly expensive rental, for which Felicity still wasn't quite over – but she made up for it in pluck, and her ability to carry nearly twice of what her small frame looked like it could handle.

"We can't just grab the elevator," Felicity said.

"Why not? The bitch had her turn."

"Look, we'll just wait. The hard part is over, right?"

"Sure, if you consider hauling all of these boxes upstairs the easy part."

Felicity frowned. "I hate moving."

"I can't say I'm a fan of it either. But, hey, look at it this way, you're finally away from Donna. How does freedom feel?"

"Like an aching back. Besides, I lived away during college."

"Yeah, but that's not the same," Lydia said dismissively. "This is the real deal. Your real entry into adulthood. In theory, you will never go home again, only visit.'

Felicity thought of the pile of dirty dishes in the sink back at Donna's apartment. "I can't say I hate the sound of that."

"No you cannot."

"Felicity?"

She stiffened at the voice. It couldn't be him. But sure enough, she looked to the side and there was Oliver, walking with a coffee in his hand. He was wearing a light jacket, and his stupid expensive haircut made his hair look perfectly tousled. She felt Lydia straighten beside her, back stiff and chest out. She knew that move. Felicity felt an urge to tell her horny friend to back down, but knew it wouldn't do any good.

"Oliver, hi."

"Is this the new place?" he asked, walking over. He glanced over at their rented van and said, "I'm guessing your online ventures didn't work out?"

"You guessed right."

"For the record, I offered to help," Oliver told Lydia, hand over his chest. "Someone else said no. I'm Oliver, by the way. Felicity and I volunteer together at the orphanage."

"I'm Lydia. It's very nice to meet you. You know, we're only just starting. The moving day is young."

"Is it?"

"We have boxes. Lots of them."

"We're fine," Felicity said quickly. "Really. What are you even doing over here?"

"I live right around the corner," Oliver said, hiking his thumb behind him.

"You're kidding," Felicity stammered.

"I don't joke about real estate," he said with a remarkably straight face. "I'm over on Maple. If I would have known you were so close to me I would have insisted you let me help."

The elevator slid open and the prior mover walked out, looking rather defeated, and murmured, "Elevator's all yours."

"You can take that box there," Lydia told Oliver, pointing toward one of the heavier ones.

Felicity immediately went, "Oliver, you don't need to help."

"Ignore her," Lydia instructed, nodding her head toward the box again. Oliver dutifuly put down his coffee and took the box. Relenting to the inevitable, Felicity grabbed one of the lighter boxes and followed the pair into the elevator.

BBBBB

Halfway through the move, Oliver enlisted Tommy's help, and at the end of three very long hours, the four of them sat on Felicity's floor, drinking beers that Tommy brought over and staring at the three unpacked boxes that couldn't possibly fit into Felicity's already packed apartment.

"Shouldn't we at least open them?" Oliver said. "See what's inside?"

"No, it's better this way," Felicity returned solemnly. "It's a clean break. I can't miss what I never knew I had, right?"

"But, you'll figure out what's in there," Lydia said. "You packed all of these boxes."

"You really have no idea what's in it?" Tommy asked.

Felicity shook her head. "I really don't. I packed some of these so long ago…" she shrugged, "…it could be anything."

"I mean, in a week or so you'll notice something missing," Lydia continued. "And then you'll know what's in the box."

"Unless I don't really need what's in the box," Felicity said. "I packed up everything. There's actually a lot of useless things in these boxes."

"Okay, this is ridiculous," Oliver said, standing up. He pulled a small Swiss army knife from his back pocket. "We're opening the box."

He expected some sort of reaction from Felicity, but halfway into her second beer, she merely shrugged and went, "Alright, open it."

"That was very anticlimactic," Tommy noted. He looked at Lydia for affirmation, "You expected more of a reaction, right?"

"Nothing really surprises me with her anymore."

Oliver opened the first box, which ended up being filled with more blankets than any single person in their right mind could use. Oliver pulled each one out, becoming increasingly befuddled with each new blanket.

"What could you possibly need this many blankets for?"

"I run cold," Felicity offered by way of explanation.

"You could build a pretty awesome fort with all these," Tommy noted, taking a long pull from his beer bottle. Lydia glanced sideways at him and murmured, "Aren't you a little old for a fort?"

"One is never too old for a fort."

Oliver opened up the next box, which had an assorted mix of odds and ends for which Felicity admittedly had no use. She decided to bring the box to the orphanage, where some of it could find a decent home. The last box was barely held together on top with tape, and when Oliver opened it he practically recoiled at what he found on top. He pulled out an old baby doll that had clearly seen better days. It had no clothes on, and one of the hand was nearly bitten clean off, save for one solitary finger.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's my baby Lisa doll," Felicity said happily, reaching forward and plucking it from his hands. "God, I haven't seen this thing in ages, my mom must have slipped it in."

"Where'd it come from?" Oliver asked slowly. "Hell?"

"Oh stop, it's not that bad."

"Its hand is bit off," Oliver said. It suddenly occurred to him that someone had to do the biting, and he slowly went, "I have a feeling this doll has a disturbing backstory."

"There's nothing disturbing about it," Felicity said, looking down at the doll in her lap. "My parents got this doll for me when I was a baby. I took it everywhere with me. I remember leaving it at the grocery store in one of those little things where you pulled bags out of, and having to drive back to get her. I cried the entire way, and didn't stop until we found her."

"Yeah, let's go back to the part where you bit the hand off."

"I didn't bite the hand off," Felicity said dismissively. "I was teething."

Tommy considered this for a moment and said, "Still sounds like you bit it off."

"And why is it naked?" Oliver asked.

Felicity shrugged. "Who cares, it's a doll."

Lydia gingerly took the doll from Felicity's hands and put it back in the box. "Yeah, let's just put this doll back where it belongs. Where no one can see it. I think that box should go straight to the back of your closet. That way when that doll tries to kill you in the middle of the night it has some obstacles to get through."

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this!