Gah. Took me a minute to find some inspiration. Thank you all for your kind words!


She didn't know why she had said yes. It was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. Felicity Smoak did not attend high school parties. But here she was, running her fingers disdainfully through her choppy blue and pink hair, wishing desperately that there was anything at all she could do with it. But there wasn't. She pulled it back tightly into a ponytail. She should just back out. No one would even notice if she didn't show up. But she'd never been invited to one of Oliver Queen's parties before and she felt like as a show of gratitude for him cleaning up her locker, she should go.

So here she was, wishing her mother had just skipped boyfriend number 17 because he was the asshole of assholes. It was almost seven days since it happened. Since he'd cut off her mother's waist length blonde curls during an argument. That was when Felicity had decided enough was enough and grabbed the baseball bat she kept under her bed for only boyfriend evacuation situations. He'd dropped the scissors pretty quickly. He only left after she'd swung at him a couple of times.

He mother had been so upset, so in solidarity, she'd cut off her own hair. And they'd dyed it, to change it so her mother didn't remember boyfriend 17 every time she looked in the mirror. But Felicity did. She'd bet her mother did too, even if she didn't say so. But it was getting better. Slowly. In fact, her mother was working all the way through to tomorrow afternoon. Which is why Felicity even felt she could leave.

She eyed the ripped dark blue denim encasing her legs and the faded Math: the only subject that counts shirt hanging off her shoulders. She looked back in her closet. Maybe she should have picked a different shirt for making friends. Something softer. But she squared her shoulders. She wasn't going to this party for that. Oliver was her friend. Maybe not even her friend. But he wasn't that. There was no part of her that wanted to be added to that roster of women. Really.

She grabbed her purse and headed for the bus stop.


It took three buses to get there. And then she had to walk a mile and a half. Figures people like the Queens wouldn't want to make it easy for the Smoaks of the world to get to them. Socially, financially, geographically, the list went on.

Their house was gargantuan. Stone and glass and fields of green. It made her and her mother's two bedroom apartment look like a closet. But she wasn't here for comparisons. What was she here for?

"Felicity?" Laurel Lance rolled down the window of her land rover. "Parking is always the worst at these parties—you park on Willow?"

"Something like that." Felicity echoed.

"Well get in! I'll give you a ride up. Ollie has a secret garage up there." There was something for Laurel Lance. She was always nice, always smart and always beautiful. In fact, Oliver might be her only flaw.

"Thanks. I didn't wanna get my shoes dirty walking up the drive." She clicked the heels of her worn out converse together.

Laurel laughed and shouldered her with amusement. "I'm glad there's going to be one other person in jeans with me. I swear half the girls in our class think getting into one of these parties is a proposition of marriage from Ollie. They're always dressed to the nines."

"Oh. I didn't realize." Felicity ran her suddenly sweaty palms down her jeans.

"It's a good thing. I promise." Laurel pulled into a spot marked with a double L. "It stands for the Queen family attorney, but I like to pretend it's mine."

She was good at that, Laurel Lance. Pretending things were hers. "Makes sense to me." Felicity encouraged before swinging herself out of the car. Laurel caught her arm before she could go in any further. "I've never seen you at one of these. Why the change of heart?"

I've never been invited. "I just figured I should do one high school thing while I'm in high school." She shrugged.

"I like it. Well, before you go in, pee now, the lines for the bathroom are not worth it later, the good stuff is in Ollie's room, only get water in the kitchen, and don't drink anything Anthony Anderson hands you."

Felicity's eyes widened. She hadn't realized there were so many rules. "Got it."

Laurel smiled, squeezing her shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll be fun."

She pulled them into foyer and disappeared into the arms of her friends waving goodbye and promising to find her later.

Felicity didn't know what she expected. But the speakers pounding out Avicii and the girls in body con dresses that would put her mother's to shame waiting around to catch a glimpse of Oliver wasn't it. She thought she'd stop by and say hello and head out. But apparently everyone wanted to say hello to Oliver. And he was nowhere to be seen.

Bathroom. Then water. At least Laurel Lance had left her with instructions.


The Queen Family kitchen was bigger than most suburban homes. Including their front yards. And backyards. And side yards. A middle aged, Russian woman sat with her feet up, knitting. She was humming to herself but started when she saw Felicity.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Felicity took an uncertain step back. She hadn't expected anyone to be in here. "I just wanted to grab some water—I didn't mean to interrupt you…"

"Raisa." The older woman smiled gently. "The children call me Raisa."

"Felicity." She held out her hand. "I got to school with Oliver."

"Yes. Thea tells me all about you." She pats the seat next to her. "You come hold my wool, I'll get you some water."

Felicity had never had a traditional mother. Her own mother was more…modern, unique? There wasn't a word. But she loved Felicity in her own way. But there was something wonderfully familiar about Riasa.

She set a glass in front of Felicity. "Those boys make so much noise. I like to stay here in the kitchen."

"I think I would too." Felicity agreed. "How is Thea?"

"You can ask her yourself." Riasa smiled, tilting her head towards a back staircase the six year old was slowly descending, encased in a yellow tank top and black leggings. She smiled happily at Riasa before meeting Felicity's gaze.

"Hey, it's you!" Apparently all the Queens were incapable of remembering her name.

"And it's you!" Felicity responded in kind before giving her a high five and picking her up to sit next to her. "Felicity."

"Fe-li-ci-ty." The six year old repeated. And then gave her a cheeky wink. "Riasa, Fe-li-ci-ty wants chocolate chip cookies."

"She does, does she?" Raisa laughed. "All right, all right."

"No no, keep knitting. I'll bake them with her." Felicity turned to Thea. "Since I'm the one that wants them."

"That's right." Thea laughed and clapped her hands. "None of Ollie's other girlfriends ever wanted to bake with me."

"I'm not Oliver's girlfriend—I'm Oliver's …"Felicity trailed off. What was she? "Classmate." She finished. "Maybe I can hide out here? You owe me one." She pinched Thea's nose.

Thea nodded gravely. "I will save you back Fe-li-ci-ty."

Felicity felt a warmth spread through her stomach. She'd always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling.

Raisa gave her an appraising look but then let out a long sigh and went back to happily clinking her needles together.

And that's how Oliver found them, flour streaking their cheeks, chocolate chips all over the counter, snacking on cookies and milk.

Felicity didn't see him but Raisa caught the way his eyes lingered over her head. She also noticed the way he gripped the banister a little too tightly. She never approved of his drinking but she also knew the way his father pressured him to meet the expectations that came with the Queen family name. She figured he was allowed a little respite. But not around Thea.

"Ollie!" Thea shrieked, running over to him and laughing as he threw her up in the air and snuggled her in his lap. "I found your classmate."

"My classmate, huh?" Oliver looked over at Felicity and smiled. "First you kidnap my sister and now you're breaking into my kitchen and making her cookies."

"I didn't kidnap her." Felicity shrugged. "But I guess I can't deny the rest of it." She thought for a moment before extending out the rest of her half eaten cookie. "Peace offering?"

"I'll take it." Oliver let Raisa take Thea from him. "See you later, Speedy."

"Upstairs with you." Raisa ushered her out of the kitchen.

Felicity watched Oliver eat her cookie with some regret. It had been a pretty good cookie.

"What're you doing here?" He asked her finally.

"You invited me?" Felicity said. And then couldn't believe she didn't think of it sooner. That invitation could very well have been a prank. Oliver Queen didn't seem like the type to send out printed invitations to his parties. You were either invited or you weren't.

He shook his head. "Nope. I would have—"

She stood. "Oh my god. I'm sorry—I just I found this invite and never mind. I shouldn't have come."

"No, stay." His hand was warm on hers as it firmly pressed her hand down on the counter. "Please."

Suddenly she felt like she had some strange power over him, it made her feel daring, like she could be someone else. "I…Okay, i'll make you a deal. If you can tell me my name—my full name, I'll stay."

Oliver flushed at that. He wasn't used to working for it. "That's ridiculous, fifteen, you think I don't know you're name."

"Nope." She popped the 'p' and started washing her hands. It was a long walk home.

"Fuck—it starts with an F." He slapped his hand on the counter in frustration and then pointed an accusatory finger at her. "This isn't fair. I'm not at full capacity."

"Fine. Just my first name then."

He looked so forlorn, she almost gave in. But a deal was a deal, and she swore, one day, Oliver Queen would remember her name. It was the principal of the thing. "Catch ya later, Queen."

"Let me walk you to your car."

She shook her head. "I can't drive remember? Fifteen?"

"Right." He narrowed his eyes. "How'd you get here?"

"Sorry, only people who know my name know my secrets." She retaliated playfully. She reached over and ruffled his hair. "Don't be too upset, it does start with an F."

She walked out of the room, flush with energy.


"Bring that smoak-in bod back here." Anthony Anderson called over as she walked passed him.

Felicity rolled her eyes. What an absolute moron. "I don't think so."

"I got a drink right here for you." Not that she would have fallen for it, but she had to give it to Laurel, she knew just what to tell a girl.

"Better drink it yourself."

He got up and walked towards her. "Look, I'm just trying to be friendly. What's got you so uptight."

"You." She rolled her eyes and let out a long sigh when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She was going to have to start being mean. She twisted this thumb until he yelped and quickly withdrew his hand. "I don't like it when people touch me without my permission."

He narrowed his eyes at her before looking furtively back at all his friends. "Stop being so frigid, we're just trying to have a good time."

"Really?" She pulled her hair down from her ponytail and she it out. She smiled at him and reached out. "Give me the glass."

He seemed unsure at the change of pace. "Uh…okay!"

She dipped her middle finger in it and held up from him to watch as the blue nail polish on it switched to a dramatic lavender. "Your first mistake was thinking I don't know rohypnol turns clear liquids blue, your second was thinking I'd drink anything in an open container without testing it first."

He didn't have to know her nail polish changed colors when it was exposed to cold liquids. But she was pretty sure she was right. The bright blue of rohypnol was hard to miss. She handed the beverage back. "Take a sip. Prove me wrong."

He scowled at her as his friends howled with laughed. "I was trying to do you a favor, no one else would touch you."

Bingo. She was right. She knew it. "I don't need your favors, Anderson. And don't think I'm not going to be reporting you."

His face darkened even more and Felicity wondered if she'd pushed him a little too far. She did have to walk all the way to the bus station alone.

His hand was mid air to reach out and grab her when another on appeared in its midst and shoved him back. "Anderson! Roofies at my party? Get the fuck out of my house." Oliver thundered. "Your friends too."

Felicity smiled. "Yeah, get out!"

As they filtered out, Oliver turned to her. "That was pretty impressive."

"I've had practice." She responded without thinking.

He raised an eyebrow. "Practice."

She shrugged. "My mom has bad taste in men."

"She's lucky to have you then." Oliver smiled gently. "I did follow you out for a reason."

He held out a set of keys.

She shook her head. "Oliver I wasn't lying before. I really can't drive."

"One, we'll work on that. And two, these aren't for you, go find Mr. Diggle, he'll take you home. He usually hangs out near the front door. "

Felicity watched him wide eyed for minute and then shook her head. "I can't—that's too much, I don't think I could pay you back and—"

"Think of it as a thank you, you know, for the chocolate chip cookie. You did give me yours."

"Well sure." She agreed evenly. "If you're really sure. I'll send him right back."

He smiled. "Perfect." He turned to head back but she stopped him.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"It's Felicity. My name is Felicity. Just so, you know, you didn't give Mr. Diggle's keys to a complete stranger."

"Felicity." He seemed to enjoy the taste of the word. He reached out but hesitated a centimeter above her shoulder. She nodded.

The contact sent thrills down her skin all the ways to her toes. He was so warm! "Yup."

His index finger and his thumb pulled gently at one of the choppy bits of her hair. "I like it down."

She nodded, flabbergasted. "Right."

"You'll have to tell me the story behind that hair sometime."

"What makes you think there's a story?"

"Hair like that? Always has a story." He grinned before giving her a gentle push. "Mr. Diggle. Go. And i'll know if you skip out and don't let him take you home."

"Thank you." She turned to smile at him when she reached the door. "Really."

He shrugged. "It's nothing. And Felicity?"

"Yeah?"

"I promise I'll remember it next time."

She nodded and offered him a little wave as she left. She hoped he would. But he wouldn't.