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They arrived at the party, which they could hear was in full swing by the time they drove up.

Before walking up to the door, Oliver grabbed Felicity by the arm and pulled her aside. Her heels clacked on the pavement as she turned to face him.

"Last chance. You don't have to do this." She held his gaze for longer than he thought she would, and then she nodded.

"Yes I do. And don't worry, I told you I won't let your check clear. I'm not funding his operation."

"I'm not worried about the check, Felicity." Oliver sighed. He knew how much what they were doing meant to her. "Alright, let's go." He offered her his arm, and they walked through the double door.

As they walked into the large living area that served as the main room of the party, Oliver noticed how fluid and naturally they interacted with each other as he took their coats while Felicity grabbed two glasses of champagne and handed one to him, holding onto the other.

The room was crowded; this was a fairly large sized party. A small orchestra was playing in the corner, while waiters in white shirts walked around carrying small silver trays of appetizers through the crowd.

For a few moments, they scanned the crowd, becoming familiar with their surroundings as they sipped their champagne.

"Digg, maybe you could, I don't know, pretend to look like you're blending in," he heard her low voice over the comm as well as right next to him, and his eyes looked up reflexively looking for his right hand man.

His eyes scanned the room until they laid on Diggle, walking around the outside edge of the room.

"I am blending," Oliver could see his lips moving from across the room. "This is how I, you know. Blend."

Felicity grabbed another glass of champagne off a waiter who had been walking by and put her own empty glass down in its place. Oliver watched as she walked up to Diggle and thrust it into his hand. "For a bunch of high class people you can be remarkably unaware as to how high class people are supposed to act at a fancy party."

"I just protect them, I try not to get involved with the politics. That is, I used to protect them," Digg added. "Now I just drive them around all day."

"Why John Diggle," Oliver could hear the elatement in her voice as she turned and headed back to him. "I believe you have just done your first real blend of your career. Somebody give that man a glass of champagne. Oh wait, I did that already. Somebody get me a glass of champagne."

Oliver felt the edges of his lips curl up in a small smile at that, still scanning the room. His eyes went up to the corner of the ceiling. "Digg, do you see all the cameras?"

"I guess I was blending better than you thought if you couldn't see me looking," he heard Diggle's voice through his earpiece. "I got two in the living room and one more looking out from the bottom of the stairway."

Oliver stepped out of the main living area and into the foyer near the front door. "I see one more pointed right at the entrance."

"I've also seen that I'm not the only watchful eye around here. There's a few extra hired guests as eyes on the room. If I didn't know any better, I'd say there's definitely something important going down here tonight," said Diggle. "Nice find, Felicity."

"Thanks, now please go find me a server room."

Walking back towards Felicity, Oliver let his hand glide down her arm to turn her around. "We've got enough to start looking for the server. Are you okay here by yourself?"

She continued the turn into him and straightened his tie. It was innocent and it was domestic, and he had to force himself not to get distracted by how comfortable the simple action felt. "I'm fine. And where is it?" She looked at Oliver, who stared back, his mind reeling thinking back to what she could possibly be looking for.

"You know I wasn't kidding when I said the whole 'get the girl another glass of champagne' thing." She was starting to get fidgety and looked around.

He stared at her in amazement. "You were serious?" Oliver knew that when Felicity was nervous, she talked. While he always listened and heard everything she said, he was still getting to know what was a real request from a sarcastic front.

"Oliver, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not so good at the gala circuit. I need to hold onto a glass of champagne with both hands. Not only will it calm my nerves, which frankly I feel is not a bad thing at the moment, it will stop me from compulsively futzing with my phone which, God I really want to do right now, will you please get me another glass."

She was visibly edgy now, so Oliver complied with her request and stepped two feet to his right to pluck a fresh glass of champagne off a tray and hand it to her.

Her outburst had come somewhat of a surprise, because up until that moment, Oliver had noticed how naturally she fit into the scene that was normally reserved for the type of persona he had to pretend to be every day. He tilted his head and studied her, really looking at her for the first time that night. The red dress had cleaned up beautifully as she knew it would, and it wasn't often he got to see her blonde hair down and tumbling off her shoulders.

He also didn't miss the way he wasn't the only one noticing her for the first time that night.

She saw him looking at her out of the corner of her eye. "What is it?" She grabbed a napkin off the tray and squeezed her eyes shut. "Please don't tell me there's something on my face because I'm not so sure I could handle that right now."

"No, it's not that," he quickly reassured her. "It's not that at all. Actually it's just the opposite. You look like you belong here."

Apparently he'd said the right thing, as she opened her eyes. "I do like to get dressed up and go out. It's just that rather than a glass of champagne and a sea of people, I tend to feel more comfortable with a double shot of espresso and a wall of monitors. Preferably really, really large monitors because monitor size does matter and tell me I did not just say that." She took a large gulp from her glass.

Oliver chuckled, but then his face turned serious. "Just please do me a favor and stick to water after this one. I promise you all the expensive wine you can drink once we're out of here."

Her eyes raised as if to say "I'm holding you to that" when Diggle's voice came over the comm. "I found it. Just walked by while the door was open. Looks like it could be the server room. Only one computer, but the coffee by the desk is fresh. There's no one there now."

"Let's go," Oliver put his hand on Felicity's back and led her out into the hall. No one spared them a glance.

"Have you seen our gracious host yet?" Once Diggle asked the question, Oliver realized that he hadn't actually seen Anderson Baler yet at his own party.

"Maybe he's trying to finalize his deal," offered Felicity while they walked down the hall.

"I could go check out-" started Oliver but never got to finish as Diggle's voice came over the comm urgently. "Walk away, do you hear me? Walk away. Oliver, looks like we need plan B to clear out that room."

In one motion, Oliver had both stopped and simultaneously turned himself and Felicity back down the hall towards where they had just came. "Felicity," he leaned in close to her ear. She shuddered, whether it was from the proximity to the chill from the front door or to his actions he couldn't tell. "Go back to the main room but be ready, we'll tell you when it's time."

He watched her head back into the crowded room, and then turned a corner and almost ran into Diggle, who had headed back his way.

"What's the plan?"

"I saw Felicity's mystery tech. I'm going to go relieve him of his duties for a few minutes. I caught the names of some of the hired hands, shouldn't be too hard to convince him I'm working for Anderson and to go get a drink at the bar for a few minutes."

Oliver sometimes found himself forgetting how good Diggle really was at his job.

"Oh, and Oliver?" Diggle started to walk back down the hall, putting his hand to his ear, pausing his comm. "Man, I don't want to be anywhere near Felicity when she learns he's a dude after all."

Vowing to keep that piece of information to himself for now, and knowing that Felicity was fine for now on her own in the main hall, Oliver decided to take a few moments to do some exploring of his own. Well practiced in how to look like he was scoping out an available room to borrow, he went upstairs and listened, hoping to catch a lead on where Anderson Baler might be.

From across the hall, a door was open a crack and the sound of a radio blasted through the silence, causing Oliver to jump slightly. "Guys, I'm taking a break. I'll be right back. The server's running a few updates, I'd just be sitting there anyway. Hittin' the bar."

Over his earpiece, he heard Diggle's voice. "Give it a second, Oliver. There's a few more guys near the office. I'll see what I can do."

"That's fine, I'm upstairs anyway seeing if I can get a lead on Baler." Oliver kept his voice low.

"Let me know if you find anything."

Oliver turned his attention back to the other side of the hallway opposite the direction the sound from the radio had come from. He tried the first door he got to, and it opened. He quietly slid inside.

While the room contained a bed and a small sofa, Oliver made his way over to a roll top desk on the far side of the entrance. Praying the desk would stay silent, he held his breath and pulled up on the knobs, rolling the top to the open position.

Inside the desk were a few envelopes, some pens, and a small box. Oliver lifted the top off the box to reveal a small ledger. Flicking it open, he was rewarded with a list of handwritten names, locations, and dates, along with truck numbers. "Gotcha."

"What was that, Oliver?"

"I found his list of delivery targets. We have all we need, I'm heading back downstairs." Oliver tucked the small book in his jacket pocket and quietly rolled down the top of the desk.

"Perfect timing," said Digg. "I'm getting ready to keep the other guards busy. Room's ready for our girl to do her magic."

Oliver slipped out of the room and made his way down the long stairs to head back into the main party room. Scanning the room, it took him no time to find Felicity. He made his way over to her.

Oliver noted she was now sipping from a tall glass instead of a champagne flute. The glass looked cloudy. "OK Felicity, you're on." He tilted his head while she took a long sip. "That is water, right?"

"Yes. With lime, I guess? Cucumber?" She made a face. "Actually, it's kind of gross. Apparently rich people can't even drink water without garnishing it. Here, hold this." She handed the half-empty glass to Oliver, who put it down on a nearby tray. "I'm getting another one, then I'm headed to the server room."

As Oliver watched her head back to the bar, he saw her slight stumble. She reached out to steady herself and continued on. He turned his head down to get back on the comm. A sudden thought occurred to him.

"Hey Digg?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you see Felicity eat anything today?"

Oliver thought about it and honestly couldn't remember the last time he saw Felicity eat while they were together. Him and Diggle had left Queen Consolidated to go interrogate some locals about a potential hit. From there, Felicity had told them about tonight, and here they were.

They had gotten food while they were out, but with a pang of guilt, Oliver realized they had not thought to bring anything back for Felicity.

"Dammit," he heard Diggle mutter under his breath over the comm. "If I had known I wouldn't have let her drink anything."

"I saw her. She's going to go flat on her ass with those heels in the state she is right now, Diggle, we have to call this off."

"Guys, I can hear you, remember? I'm well versed in heels. It's usually all I wear. I'd go flat on my ass in flats. Maybe that's why they're called 'flats'. Because we go flat on our ass." Oliver heard her over-emphasize each letter in the word 'flat'. "Flat on my ass in flats." She giggled.

"Actually, now that I think of it, nothing good has ever come out of me wearing flats." The sudden sadness in her tone of voice over the comm had Oliver instantly lifting his head to find her in the room.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized he couldn't find her. "Dammit Felicity, tell me you aren't already in the server room." He squeezed his eyes shut waiting for her answer.

It felt like ages, but in what was more like a few seconds, he heard her voice, uncharacteristically quiet, but it sounded like a cry of frustration.

"Felicity, what's wrong?" His heart was pounding now.

"My cable is shot."

Panic filled his lungs. "Shot? How?"

"SSssssshort. Short, it's too short."


As one reviewer for an Arrow episode proclaimed, "Sad is a process that leads to happy." I can absolutely promise you fluff and comfort and major olicity FEELS. But not right now. :-)