Chapter 2: Who is Meghan Raymond?
Life for Felicity after her unorthodox meeting with Oliver Queen continues on very much the same as normal. Well, as normal as one's life can be when one is a genius in hiding, getting by on a job as a sex worker for Starling's elite.
As valedictorian of her class, graduating from MIT at the young age of twenty, this is not the life Felicity imagined for herself a mere three years ago. Back then she had dreams, ambitions. She was going to invest in a small but promising business, learn what it really takes to sink your claws into the corporate world, and then eventually branch off with her own IT company specializing in programming and cyber security. She would be her own boss and use her God-given talent for computers to help change the face of technology. It was a brilliant plan, one she had been developing and building on ever since she built her first computer at age seven.
And now there wasn't a chance in hell she would ever achieve it.
"Thanks for that, Daddy Dearest."
Meow.
Without looking away from her computer, Felicity reaches down to scratch behind the ears of a grey and white tabby cat pressed against her bare legs. The little guy lets out a content purr and nuzzles against her calf before meowing again.
"Yes, Java, I know you worry, but this is totally safe. The site is encrypted and I have constant searches going for unusual activity."
Her eyes scan through the list of visitors she's had today for anything out of the ordinary. When she doesn't find anything, Felicity begins running background checks on the offers she's been made. The way she runs her… business is very systematic. Clients contact her through a website and provide basic information via a private network. With this information she is able to look into who they are and where they come from. If a client passes through screening, she contacts them using a burner phone under the alias Meghan Raymond to set up a meeting time and place. When she moves cities, she crashes the site with a vicious, self-written virus and rebuilds from scratch. It took her awhile to get the whole operation on its feet, but she's managed.
Felicity is mid-scan when her lap is suddenly occupied by a ball of whiskers and fur.
"Java! You know not to jump on Mommy when she's working."
The cat stares at her with big brown eyes begging for attention, paws pressing gently against her sweatshirt clad chest. With a sigh, Felicity removes her hands from the keyboard and gently scratches the top of his head, smiling when he pushes into her palm and begins to purr once again.
Felicity found the little guy during her first week in Starling City three months ago. It was raining and she was running to her apartment door with a newspaper held over her head when she heard a soft mewling sound coming from the alley on the side of her building. Curious, she went to investigate and found a kitten soaked to the bone and unable to walk lying in a puddle. Without even a second thought, Felicity scooped the poor thing up and took him inside with her. Of course, not without receiving a few battle scars first.
The little guy was a fighter. He had spirit even when the odds were stacked against him and had lashed out at the potential threat that Felicity posed. It was in that moment that she felt a kinship with the animal. Both of them had been dealt a shitty hand in life, but refused to go out without a bang. So she nursed the cat back to health and kept him as her own, naming him after both her favorite drink and the first computer software she rewrote as a child. It had been love ever since.
"You know, I'm glad you're here. It makes talking to myself seem a little less crazy."
Java tilts his head to the side, staring up at her with a blank face, as if challenging her statement.
"Oh, who asked you?"
God, she really needs to get out more. If that were a possibility. Which it's not.
With a dejected sigh, Felicity glances at the top corner of her computer screen, gasping when she sees the time. She bolts out of her chair, sending Java tumbling to the floor, and quickly makes her way to the bedroom.
Frack, frack, frack! She's going to be late, so late if she doesn't get changed and out of this apartment within the next minute!
Hustling around her bedroom, scarcely decorated aside from a few colorful throw pillows and a houseplant in the corner, Felicity dresses herself in a hurry. She shuffles on a pair of jeans, trades out her oversized MIT sweatshirt for a snugger fitting hoodie, and struggles to slide her feet into a pair of bright red Keds while simultaneously combing her hair back into a ponytail. Running into the hallway bathroom, she hastily applies a new coat of her favorite bright pink lipstick and slips her glasses into place. The harsh lighting reflects off of her new industrial piercing, distracting Felicity for a second, before a loud meow from the living room stirs her back into action.
With one last scratch behind Java's ears, Felicity rushes out of her apartment. She snatches up the bag holding her tablet along with her keys as she goes, barely stopping to lock the door on her way out.
….
"I have a large dark roast and a medium vanilla latte for Meghan on the bar!"
Felicity quickly grabs her drinks off the counter, smiling in thanks at the barista behind it, before making her way over to a table in the corner of the coffee shop where a guy in a plaid shirt with gelled brown hair is sitting. She smiles guiltily as he catches sight of her before setting the latte down in front of him.
"Sorry, I'm late."
He stares up at her for a second before sighing and gesturing to the seat across from her.
"We gotta make this quick. Andre is starting to get suspicious of where I go off to every Tuesday."
That sobers Felicity up like a bucket of ice water. Her muscles tense as her eyes quickly flicker around the shop, searching through the crowd. Most of the patrons are businessmen and women on their lunch breaks, although by the way most of them are harping away on their phones and bluetooths it would seem break is a loose term.
"You don't think he knows anything, do you?"
"No, what I'm saying is we gotta make this quick. It doesn't take thirty minutes to get a cup of coffee a block and a half away."
Once she is sure neither of them have been followed, Felicity reaches into her messenger bag and pulls out her tablet, unlocking it before sliding it across the wooden table.
"Okay, then let's get to it. You have the drive with all the information?"
"Like always."
The brunette pulls out a black USB stick and connects it to her tablet. With a few swipes here and a couple of taps there, Felicity enters her password one more time to begin the transfer. Her eyes stay trained on the little blue bar on the screen as it fills up.
"I still don't understand why you came here of all places. You know he's got associates and a branch in Starling."
"Which is why this is one of the last places he'll be looking for me. Plus, like you said, they're associates, not his own men. You didn't even recognize me the first time we met up, Coop. What makes you think any of his secondhand evil minions will?"
A ding from the tablet signals the completion of the file transfer and Felicity quickly snatches it back up, disconnecting the drive to hand back over to him.
"I just worry about you, Felicity. You can't live like this forever. He's not going to be happy when you come back."
This is why she had been hesitant to reach out to Cooper upon moving to Starling City. He didn't see what was so bad about the life they lived - the one she used to live - not the way she did. Even if he agreed not to turn her in, he didn't understand why she felt the need to get away from it all in the first place. But the longer she ran, the less she knew about the organization's whereabouts, and the less she knew about the organization's whereabouts the more likely she was to get caught. So she contacted Cooper against her better judgement through a script they wrote together back at MIT and they've been meeting once a week ever since. He never gave her any detailed information, at least not enough for her to do anything with, but knowing even just the base of operations is better than nothing.
"I already told you, I'm not going back, and in a few more months I'll be out of here and onto the next city."
Cooper reaches out, gently taking one of her hands in his. Felicity just barely avoids shrinking away from his touch, knowing it means more to him than it ever will to her.
"Or you could stay here, in Starling, with me. Work with the organization again. Think of how much we could accomplish together."
Sliding her hand out of his grasp, Felicity quickly shoves her tablet into her bag and swipes her coffee off the table as she stands to leave.
"Thanks for the info. I gotta go."
"Come on, Felicity, just - "
He stands up as if to follower her, but she takes a step away from him and any further movement on his part would draw attention to them.
"Goodbye, Cooper. I'll see you next week."
Felicity pivots on her feet and strides toward the exit without looking back, ignoring the weight in the pit of her stomach.
This is what the organization does. It taints people, taints relationships. It seeps into every aspect of a person's life until it's impossible to get out. You stop thinking for yourself and start thinking like they want you to. It's sickening. That's why she got out when she did. Her only regret is that she didn't do it sooner.
Lost in her anger, Felicity pushes the glass door to the coffee shop open with a little more force than necessary, stumbling on her way out and right into another customer's chest. The lid to her coffee cup pops off upon impact, and the hot liquid inside comes spilling out all over the poor soul in front of her. Eyes wide, Felicity moves her gaze to see who her victim is, only to find none other than one Oliver Queen.
"Oh my God. Oliver."
"Felicity. Hi."
He looks just as stunned as she is to see him here of all places. To be fair, this is one of the more popular cafes in the city and very centrally located. It really shouldn't be that surprising that she would run into Oliver here. After all, he does live in Starling and the chances of him being an adult in the business world who likes good coffee are high.
"What are you doing here? I mean, obviously you're getting coffee. This is a coffee shop after all and you have all the right in the world to be here. It's not like I own the place. Or that I would kick you out if I did! I just meant that, you know, I wasn't expecting to see... you... here."
Now would be a really great time for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
"I wasn't expecting to see you, either. Are you okay?"
Oliver's eyes scan over her person, causing Felicity to become just a little self conscious. When they first met she had been dressed to impress. Full makeup, hair perfectly curled, and wearing one of her favorite lingerie pieces along with a pair of heels that did great things for her ass. Right now the best thing she has going for her is that her nail color matches her shoes, and that was just a happy coincidence.
"I think I'm the one who should be asking you that. I spilled my coffee all over you!"
And she means all over him. The off-white henley he's wearing is drenched, sticking to his torso and giving Felicity a great view of the outline of his abs. She can remember the way it felt to be pressed against them, her hands tracing the defined muscles as they rippled beneath her fingers. The memory sends a shiver through her body.
But then Felicity's eyes catch sight of the object in his hands and the whisper of desire is replaced with absolute horror.
"I murdered your laptop."
The words come out in a terrified whisper as she continues to stare at the drenched object. Oliver follows her gaze and for seemingly the first time takes notice of the poor thing.
"Oh, that's okay. I'll just buy another one. I was on my way to TechVillage anyway in hopes that someone there could explain some of the features to me. It's, uh, been awhile since I've needed to use one of these."
Right. Missing for five years. Possibly the hooded vigilante guy. Most likely the hooded vigilante guy. They really need to think of a better name for him.
"I can fix it."
Oliver tilts his head at her questioningly. Not in a way that seems doubtful of her ability, but more out of curiosity.
"I'm really good with computers. Sometimes they make more sense to me than people. Even if I can't save the entire thing I should be able to save the hard drive and all the information on there for you to transfer to another computer."
He's smiling at her, like he did that night just before she left him. It's a small smile, but one of amusement and… wonder. And it's genuine, she can see it in his eyes. It causes her to smile in return, getting slightly caught up in his gaze.
"Mr. Queen, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to get going if you want to go by the manor to change and still make it to the courthouse on time."
The voice startles Felicity as she takes notice of Oliver's bodyguard, whose name escapes her at the moment, for the first time since running into Oliver.
"Courthouse?"
"They're resurrecting me from the dead today. Officially."
Oliver attempts nonchalance with a shrug of his shoulders, but a ghost of a shadow passes through his eyes at the words. Felicity is reminded again of the way he so easily transitioned roles the other night. One minute he was the enigmatic playboy, the next he was… someone else, someone who has gone through hell and back and somehow come out the victor.
"I'm sorry. It's really none of my business. I'll just take the laptop from you let you guys go."
Shaking her head at herself, Felicity reaches out to accept the ruined piece of tech from him and quickly shoves it in her bag along with her tablet.
"Can I get your number, so you can let me know when it's ready?"
"Uhm…"
Felicity bites her lip in thought, eyes glancing away from Oliver as she thinks over how to respond. She doesn't have a personal phone. It's too easy to track. All she uses are burners and while he would have no room to judge given his assumed nighttime activities, she really doesn't want him asking questions.
"I swear this is not me trying to hit on you. If it was you would know."
And then he winks. He actually winks at her and for some reason the action causes Felicity to laugh because it's just so contradictory with the side of him she saw while trying to keep him from bleeding out.
"No, it's not that. It's just… would you mind meeting me here Thursday night around seven? It'll be done by then."
He looks like he wants to protest, but something in her expression must change his mind because Oliver just smiles and nods in assent.
"Okay. Thursday night, seven o'clock."
"Great! It's a date!" Felicity catches her slip instantaneously and quickly moves to correct herself. "I mean, not a date, date. Just you know, that's the day and time that we'll be meeting. No romantic implications or anything of that nature. Just business."
A large hand on her shoulder stops her from babbling any further and Oliver smiles down at her, squeezing lightly before letting go.
"It's a business date. I'll see you tomorrow, Felicity."
"See you tomorrow."
Both Oliver and his bodyguard make their way toward a black town car parked by the curb. The older man slides in first before Oliver lowers himself into the seat, and just before he shuts the door Felicity calls out.
"Oliver!"
He pauses, looking at her questioningly.
"Congratulations on re-entering the land of the living. You know, officially."
With a grin and a wave, Oliver pulls the car door shut. Felicity watches as they pull out into traffic and drive off, a genuine smile on her face that lasts the entire walk back to her apartment.
….
"That was so good, baby doll. Worth every penny."
Ugh, baby doll. That has got to be one of the creepiest nicknames Felicity has been given on the job. Leaning over, she gives her client, a member of the board of directors for Kord Industries, a kiss for the road before hooking her bra back into place.
"It was great, baby. Best I've had in a long time. I almost shouldn't charge you for it."
She says that to everyone. It fluffs up their egos, overrides any underlying guilt they feel so they'll come back for more. Felicity has been in this game for a little over a year now. She knows what her clients are thinking, what they want to hear. They all want to feel like an exception, like they're somehow a step above all the guys before them. So she makes them feel that way. They are paying for satisfaction after all.
The middle-aged man clicks on the television suspended from the ceiling, tuning into the nightly news and tuning her out. Felicity vaguely pays attention as she goes about slipping her heels back on and locating the rest of her clothing.
"Martin Sommers, the CEO of Starling Port, was arrested just an hour ago for the murder of Victor Nocenti. He is also being accused of accepting cash including over ten million dollars in bribes. Sources say the hooded vigilante was spotted at the scene, before fleeing as police arrived to arrest Sommers."
The last part catches her attention just as the next story begins.
"In other news, Oliver Queen made a spectacle at the dedication of Queen Consolidated's new Applied Sciences center."
Felicity slows down her actions just slightly, intrigued by the story for reasons she doesn't want to look into.
"The only son of Robert Queen, whom the new building has been named after in light of recent events, showed up late and quite intoxicated to the dedication ceremony just hours after being legally brought back from the dead. After a few words on his legacy, the twenty-seven year old heir to the company stumbled off stage supported by two women and left the sight."
The screen displays a shot of Oliver walking away on unsteady legs, an arm slung around each of the girls' shoulders. He leans over to press a kiss against one of the girls' heads, causing a wave of discomfort to run through Felicity. She quickly shuts that down, reminding herself that she's only met the guy twice and has no reason to feel any sort of way about his interactions with other women.
"That kid doesn't deserve jack shit. He'll run that damn company straight into the ground. "
Felicity pulls her knee length coat on over her shoulders and does up the buttons, yanking the sash tightly around her waist.
"Mr. Queen sure seems to be making up for lost time."
"I'll just let myself out. It has been a pleasure, Mr. Duvel."
Snatching an envelope off the counter with her stage name on it, the one containing the rest of her payment, Felicity makes her way out of the hotel room. She takes the service elevator down and out back to where a car is waiting for her courtesy of Mr. Duvel, climbing in and giving the driver the address of an antique store a block down from where she lives. One of her rules, never let a client know where she sleeps at night if it's not with them.
Pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the window, Felicity watches as the city flies by outside, tinted orange by the streetlamps. It's late, nearly midnight, and the streets are cleared save for a few cabs and shipment trucks. The scenery changes from upscale penthouses, and office buildings to rundown diners and dilapidated apartment buildings as they travel closer to the Glades. Her apartment lies on the outskirts of the area, not too close that she needs to bar her windows, but not so far that she would leave her front door unlocked. It gets the job done.
About thirty minutes later, the driver pulls up to the curb in front of the antique store to let her out. Felicity thanks him for the ride and walks briskly in the general direction of her apartment building. The journey from there to her place is a blur, but somehow she manages to get herself undressed before collapsing on top of her bed. Felicity doesn't even make it beneath the covers before she's passed out, images of bright blue and deep green dancing behind her eyelids.
