This one is slightly AU. Pre island Oliver meets goth Felicity. Let me know what you think!

If you have a tumblr go check out the Olicity Fic Challenge, it's a lot of fun! You can find me at: spaztronautwriter. I hope you join in this fun little challenge, but if not I hope you enjoy these fluffy little drabbles.

Felicity leaned over the trash can, gagging and unable to catch her breath. She just hoped she'd managed to avoid getting vomit in her long, dark hair.

"That's gross, you know."

The disembodied voice sounded put out and Felicity turned to see a man—maybe a little older than her—wearing a pale blue button up, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He barely looked better than she was feeling, his clothes rumpled and his floppy hair sticking out all over the place.

He was standing at the end of the alley, leaning against the brick wall as people streamed past on the sidewalk behind him. The loud, obnoxiously eager crowd heading for the club's entrance around the corner made her want to question her life choices, as did this stranger's smarmy smile.

She'd just opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off when a wave of dizziness hit, followed by a tsunami of nausea. She grabbed the edge of the trash can, plastic digging into her palms, and forgot about everything except for how much she hated puking.

"Hey, hey," she heard someone say, but didn't realize it was the smarmy guy until he grabbed her hair and pulled it away from her face. She didn't really feel like being touched at this moment, but she appreciated the save. She really didn't want to have to pick vomit out of her hair on the cab ride back to MIT. She'd probably just end up puking again.

"You alright?" Smarmy Guy asked once she'd finished heaving. He stroked her hair back from her face, placing a steadying hand on her elbow.

When Felicity finally glanced up at him she was almost startled to realize he was handsome. Definitely not her type. She went more for the smart, mysterious loner type. This guy was clearly of the frat boy persuasion, with his bad haircut and square jawline and his blue eyes. His insanely blue eyes… which were still staring at her in concern, if a little clouded from alcohol.

"Yeah" she said quickly, standing up straight. She tried to pull away from him, but swayed so heavily she ended up falling back against the brick wall. "I'm fine."

He wasn't touching her anymore, but he still hovered. It was the concern on his face that annoyed her more than his presence.

"You can go now," she spit, narrowing her eyes. "I'm already drunk and not in the mood, so why don't you go try to persuade some other poor soul to have sex with you."

The guy actually looked hurt for a second, before a grimace pulled back his lips and he looked her up and down, taking in her baggy cargo pants, leather jacket and nose ring with distaste.

"Trust me," he said, "you aren't my type."

Of course, she wasn't. He probably went for ditzy blondes with big boobs, but for some reason Felicity would never understand, his words hurt. Or maybe it was his tone, the dismissive sound a reminder of every rejection she'd ever received. God, she wasn't even attracted to this guy and his stupid face, but all she could see in his blue eyes was her father walking out the door when she was a kid. Her high school boyfriend cheating on her with his lab partner, Cooper deciding that being a "hacktivist" was worth more than being with her.

Tears flooded her eyes and she wanted to run, to get the hell out of this alley and away from this asshole, but she knew she'd probably just trip, so instead she opened her mouth, ready to tell him exactly what she thought of him and his type.

But he beat her to it.

"I'm sorry," he said, moving closer, a hand stretched out awkwardly in the space between them. "I didn't mean that. You're very attractive. Not my usual type, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't…"

He trailed off as he realized what he was saying was probably just as offensive. She had to give him credit for that, at least.

"Sorry," he finished, lamely, a small shrug jerking his shoulders. Big shoulders, she realized. Muscular.

She swallowed.

So not her type.

Felicity sighed heavily and carefully slid herself down the wall. Sitting in a dirty, garbage strewn alleyway wasn't her idea of a good time, but she just needed to sit for a minute. She was tired. Completely worn out from the last couple of days and she needed a minute.

"Are you alright?" Smarmy Guy asked again. When she just nodded he moved to sit down across from her. "Did you follow the sign's instructions, at least?"

"What?" Felicity's eyes shot open, glancing at him in confusion.

"The sign," he said, like it should be obvious, pointing up at the brick wall.

She looked up and directly over the garbage can she'd just unloaded her stomach contents into were the words THROW YOUR EX HERE.

She laughed. She couldn't help it, even though the movement kind of made her want to puke again.

"I guess, I kind of did."

"So this is about a guy?" he asked, the smarmy smile back on his face, but it faded as soon as he saw the look that flashed in her eyes.

Sadness. Grief. Anger.

"What did he do?" he asked.

Felicity shook her head, but stopped when it made her dizzy.

"He just… He did something he shouldn't have."

"To you?"

She glanced up at his strange tone. It was protective, a little angry. When she saw the look in his eyes, she understood why.

"No!" she said, quickly. "No, nothing like that. He didn't hurt me or… no." She sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the bricks. "He used a… program I made to do something… not good."

She wasn't sure how to even explain something like this to a frat boy stranger, but she found she wanted to. She wanted to tell him, maybe because he was a stranger. They didn't even know each other's names, they were just two people sitting in a dirty alley outside a bar way too late at night. What better time to get everything she was feeling off her chest?

"My boyfriend—ex-boyfriend," she corrected, "he stole a computer virus I created. Then used it to delete student loans. He wanted to be a hacktivist."

She could hear the bitterness in her words.

"Sounds like a Robin Hood wannabe."

She looked over at the guy, at his unimpressed expression, and laughed. "Kinda does, huh?"

"So you dumped him."

"Yeah. I dumped him. He used something I created to steal. Well, not technically, but it wasn't why I created the virus and he knew that. He wouldn't listen to me when I told him to stop. I had to pull the connection to shut him down."

Smarmy Guy didn't say anything at first, and Felicity started to feel self-conscious. She'd just told a stranger something really private, something she hadn't told anyone else. What the hell had she been—

"I was at a friend's rehearsal dinner earlier," Smarmy Guy said, interrupting her berating thoughts. "For his wedding, you know?" he added, like maybe she wasn't sure.

She nodded, biting her to tongue to keep back any barbed remarks about his intelligence she might usually send towards someone like him. Yes, he was a frat boy and she wouldn't have chosen him for this particular conversation given the choice, but she realized they were having a moment and didn't want to ruin it.

"I slept with the bride in a storage closet," he admitted, a sheepish expression on his face.

So much for ruining it, she thought.

"I've known the guy my whole life," he said, looking annoyed with himself, almost angry. "So what did I do the day before his wedding? I slept with his fiancé."

"Well," Felicity said, a small smile on her lips, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm sure you didn't do much sleeping in that storage closet."

He looked back at her, a huff of surprise falling from his lips, his blue eyes wide.

"No," he shook his head, his smile coming back to him, "we didn't."

They sat there for maybe an hour, telling each other their darkest secrets, the worst things about themselves. Things no one else was supposed to know.

Finally, when she realized that she was about to start dozing off with a stranger in an alley, she decided it was time to call it a night.

"I'll help you get a cab," he offered immediately, getting to his feet with surprising gracefulness for someone who was still drunk.

They barely needed to wait once they'd made it to the street. It was late, and cabs were practically lining up, waiting to pick up fares outside the club.

"So," he drawled as he helped her to one of the cabs, "you sure you're not interested in going back to my hotel?"

He asked, but he wasn't being an ass about it. This wasn't him trying to seduce her, hell, it wasn't even him flirting with her. He was just sincerely asking her if she wanted to spend the night with him or not.

She smiled, despite herself. "You just admitted to sleeping with your friend's fiancé, what do you think?"

He ducked his head and grinned and, she had to admit, he had a great smile. Stupid hair, but a great smile. When he looked back up his blue eyes were burning with something she couldn't immediately place, but she could see the self-deprecation in them. She knew what that looked like.

"I think that's probably the best idea you've had all night," he laughed. "And, in my defense, he wasn't a good friend."

She just raised her eyebrows.

His grin pulled wider. "That makes it a little better, doesn't it?" He held up his thumb and pointer finger. "A little?"

She scrunched her face up, shaking her head.

"Oh, come on!" he said, his words exasperated, but his tone teasing, as he leaned against the open door of the taxi. "One time he called the cops on a party I was having, because he wasn't invited."

Felicity just cocked her head to the side.

It took him a few moments before he closed his eyes. "Yeah, okay. I just heard it." He huffed out a laugh. "Wow, I'm a bad friend."

Felicity wasn't sure what was going on with her tonight, but she leaned forward and put her hand on his forearm. "I think you might actually be a really good friend," she said softly, watching as his eyes shot open in surprise.

He stared at her for a second, looking unsure and maybe a little uncomfortable. Finally, he smiled. Not the big grin he'd had before, or the smarmy smile when he'd entered the alley, but a real, genuine smile.

"I think any guy who would choose ripping off a bank—"

"I told you, it was student loans—"

"—who would chose THAT over you is an idiot," he finished, talking right over her, making her hear him.

Her eyes widened in surprise and for the first time that night she didn't see Smarmy Guy, she saw a man who—let's be honest, clearly had issues—but, who was kind. Genuine kindness didn't come around very often, Felicity was afraid.

"Are you getting in or what?"

Felicity startled at the unexpected voice and turned back to the cab. The driver was sticking his head out the window, looking more than a little annoyed that they were wasting his time.

She turned back to the guy in front of her, looking up into his blue eyes. She felt a sudden pang in her chest, but decided it was just the day getting to her.

"I would possibly think about kissing you right now, but I just puked. Hard. So…"

He smiled, that beautiful smile she was starting to really like. "It's okay." He placed a hand on her elbow, helping her into the cab. "Get home safe, alright?"

She nodded and he closed the door after making sure her fingers were out of the way.

She gave the driver her address and leaned back against the leather seat, closing her eyes.

"Make sure she makes it back alright," she heard Smarmy Guy tell the driver and she opened her eyes in time to see him hand over a hundred dollar bill. The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb, before Felicity could say anything.

Her head turned to the window, keeping her eyes on the man outside as he watched her drive away.

Affection, she realized.

That was the look he'd had in his eyes. Affection.

She felt that pang in her chest again and leaned back against the seat. She wished she'd gotten his name. She wasn't foolish enough to think that there could ever be something between them, they were too different, but she would have liked to have been able to think back on him fondly and not as Smarmy Guy from the alley behind the bar.

Maybe she'd call him Blue Eyes.

Yeah. Yeah, she liked that much better.