A/N: I don't know Arrow or its characters. For clarification, this is set loosely in mid-season 3, after Oliver comes back from Nanda Parbat. Please review :)
The first time he kisses her (well the second time, but that's a different story) she doesn't see it coming.
It's a Sunday night and Oliver shows up at her apartment unannounced with a bag from Big Belly Burger, wearing that brown leather jacket she loves.
The first thing she says when she sees him standing there is, "I could eat you right now."
She dies a little inside and continues," I mean that," pointing to the bag. "I could eat a burger now, is what I meant, obviously. It's not like I want to eat you."
"No?" Oliver raises an eyebrow.
"Oh my god." Felicity covers her face in humiliation and Oliver chuckles.
"I think innuendo is allowed when you're dating," he says gently.
Oliver scans her up and down, and she realizes she's dressed in only plaid pajama shorts and a loose white tank top. Her hair is tied up in a messy knot and she doesn't have her usual bright lipstick on.
"So, this is what you look like when you're not working," he comments.
"Yeah," she says, doing her best to not freak out that Oliver has randomly shown up at her apartment with her favorite take-out, and she's wearing pajamas.
Oliver smiles warmly and cups her bare shoulder. "I like it."
They eat burgers on her couch with their feet up on the coffee table. They make a mess; Oliver smears barbecue sauce all over her cheek, making them both laugh. They both have the same anti-authority streak, a slightly childish disdain for rules.
They watch a movie that Oliver picks stretched out on the couch together. It feels so normal that after awhile she forgets it's supposed to be a date.
She's in the kitchen grabbing a pint of ice cream out of the freezer, because Oliver's demanded to know what all the fuss is about with her beloved mint chocolate chip, when she feels two hands grasp her hips.
"Hi," she says, turning in Oliver's arms to smile up at him.
He looks relaxed for once and he's beautiful like this, without so much tension in his body and a sexy little grin on his face.
He kisses her.
Oliver kisses her, and it's soft and right and perfect. He kisses her with just the right amount of want, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.
"I thought you wanted ice cream," Felicity teases.
Oliver's jaw tightens. "I want a lot of things."
"Oliver," she says softly. "You can have anything you want. You just have to choose it."
He closes his eyes like he's in pain, and Felicity presses her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like leather and something woodsy. She wants to stay like this forever, until he finally realizes that he deserves this.
Oliver sighs and lays his cheek on the top of her head. "You make it sound like it's so easy."
She kisses him lightly and turns in his arms to get clean spoons from the silverware drawer.
"Maybe you can find a way to let it be easy," she suggests, and hands him the ice cream.
xxx
She wakes up on a Saturday to a text from Oliver.
Get dressed. I'm picking you up in half an hour.
She practically vaults out of bed and into a hot shower. Is he kidding her with half an hour? Who gets ready for a date that quickly?
She blow dries her hair as fast as humanly possible and does minimal makeup, just tinted moisturizer and a swipe of coral lipstick. She's standing in front of her closet having a minor panic attack over what to wear for a date at nine in the morning when her phone beeps with a follow up text from Oliver.
Dress casual.
She pulls on skinny jeans that hug her ass perfectly and an aqua blue cashmere sweater. She's just pulling on her panda flats when she sees Oliver's car pull up from the window.
Oliver smiles when he sees her. "I like you in blue."
She kisses him lightly. "I know. So," she says, grasping his hand. "What are we doing today?"
"Well," Oliver says, opening the passenger door for her, "I thought that since we're dating now you should get a chance to know me."
She looks up at him, bemused. "But I do know you."
He shakes his head. "Not the Arrow, or Oliver Queen, CEO, or Ollie the playboy. Just me."
She leans her head against the window. "Hi, just me."
He laughs, and it's beautiful.
xxx
He takes her to a little coffee shop not far from the Queen Mansion.
"Tommy and I used to come here every morning before school," he tells her, setting their lattes and scones on the little table. "Sometimes we'd be hungover, or we'd be copying each other's homework. We spent a lot of time here. I love this place."
"Wait, you went to school?" she teases.
Oliver smiles. "Sometimes. I graduated high school, you know."
She takes a sip of her latte and sighs in satisfaction. "And dropped out of four Ivies. Impressive."
Oliver shakes his head, laughing. "This isn't going well, is it?"
"No, I'm sorry." She covers his hand with his. "It's just...sometimes I wonder why you're even interested in me."
"What?"
"It's just...you grew up with all this privilege that I didn't even know existed when I was a kid. You could have literally anything you wanted. If we had met - like met in a normal way, not you as the Arrow bleeding in the backseat of my car - you wouldn't have looked at me twice."
"Felicity." Oliver flips his hand to wind his fingers through hers. "If I hadn't gotten on the boat that day, do you want to know how we would have met?"
She smiles shyly. "How?"
"I would be working at Q.C., in some position my dad had gotten for me. Something I wouldn't have been remotely qualified for. I would miserable, and bored out of my mind." He shakes his head. "I probably would still be with Laurel."
He gives her a distant dreamy smile that makes her head spin. "And then one day you would have walked into the elevator, or the break room, or the cafeteria...and it would have all been over for me."
"Oh my god," she drawls. "No wonder they called you a playboy."
He gives her a hurt look. "You don't think I'm being genuine?"
"No," she laughs. "Of course not. It's just, all that, and, you know, your face, and the sound of your voice, it's just..."
She leans over the table and kisses him softly. "It's sweet. You're sweet."
Oliver tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't tell," he says seriously. "It's a secret."
"Oliver," she smiles, "don't you know? I'm wonderful at keeping secrets."
xxx
They don't tell anyone at first.
It feels too new, too fragile. At the foundry they act the same as always, and as far as Felicity can tell no ones knows the difference.
They get off on it, a little. Oliver finds ways to touch her when no one's looking, making her skin burn for more.
Sometimes he walks by her just to pause and whisper something positively filthy in her ear, and walks away with his poker face firmly intact, while she blushes and sputters behind him.
Felicity starts wearing shorter skirts, and dropping pens. It makes her feel silly but the look on Oliver's face is always worth it.
It's like having a dirty little secret, and she likes it.