Part: Out to Lunch
Word Count: 1949

Summary: Oliver takes Felicity out for lunch

Notes: ...Surely you didn't think I'd tease you about Oliver and Felicity having lunch and not give it to you, did you? If you wanted it, here it is.

This is another one that hasn't graced Tumblr. (Mainly because I finished it last night.) I hope you enjoy!


"Hey."

"Oh, hey, Oliver. …So, I realized I forgot to tell you I kind of work for you. I didn't want to make things weird. But I guess I did by not telling you until you offered to pick me up."

"It's fine, Felicity. And, technically, you work for Walter, not me. I have no interest in the family business."

"No offense, but that actually makes me feel better. I like the concept of earning promotion based on my own merits, not because I know the boss."

"So that means I probably shouldn't mention to Walter that your Master's from MIT is being wasted?"

"If you do that, I will hack in and put you on the herpes alert list. I'm dead serious, Oliver. …Stop laughing!"

"I was kidding, Felicity. And Thea says I have no sense of humor."

"I never joke about unearned promotions, Oliver."

"Duly noted."

"Just for that, you owe me a cake. Chocolate."

"…A cake?"

"Yes. A cake. Cakes are awesome. Buy one from a bakery or get Raisa to make one."

"…She'd like you. Maybe you should come to the house sometime and meet her."

"…"

"…Felicity?"

"Okay, confession time. The idea of ever going to your mansion kind of wigs me out. Like, who even needs a house that big?"

"…I take it you don't."

"Of course not! Curtis and I share a two-bedroom apartment with George, Oliver. Most people are satisfied with that kind of room. Maybe a house, if you're feeling cramped."

"You have strong opinions about this subject."

"Surely by now you've realized I have strong opinions on almost every subj— What is that?"

"It's a motorbike, Felicity."

"I know that, but are we taking that?"

"I planned on taking the keys to the Mercedes, but Thea cornered me about the speed dating event last night. I escaped with only the keys to the Ducati."

"For those of us who know 'car' and 'not a car,' you mean this thing?"

"Yes, Felicity. …You can always follow me, if you want."

"No, this is fine. You just surprised me. …Is this too conspicuous to take to your… super-secret hidden lair?"

"No, everyone is familiar with my motorbike showing up at all hours. I'm starting a nightclub."

"Oh. That's clever."

"And don't call it that."

"What do you call it, then?"

"Verdant."

"…That's a little on-the-nose. I like it."

"Thought you might. …Here's your helmet."

"Thanks."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Felicity, you actually have to hold on."

"I know. I've watched movies, Oliver. It's just that you never exactly seem okay with the touching thing and I didn't know how to do it without making you— Oh."

"I don't mind when it's you."

"You shouldn't tell me that. I'm a little handsy."

"…"

"Not handsy! Touchy! …No, I'm making it worse. I'm… tactile. That's the word."

"…"

"I can feel you laughing silently at me, Oliver."

"Hold on to me tight."

"These are so not your normal circumstances for saying that."

"…"

"…Oh, God, I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"What are you trying to say, Felicity?"

"That my mouth gets me into trouble sometimes."

"…Felicity?"

"Yes?"

"…For the record, I've never asked a woman to hold on to me before. Just you."

"Oh."

"For someone not interested in sex, your mind is a sewer."

"For someone so well-versed in the subject, you always seem uncomfortable when I touch on it."

"…I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"First, that's a lie. …Well, it's not a lie, but I know that's not the reason. We'll get back to that. …Secondly, we live in a very allosexual world, Oliver. Usually it's only subtle, like women in tight clothing lounging on cars in ads, or covers of dime-store romance novels with Fabio on the cover. It's just part of our world, and it's a thing people do. I'm not repulsed or anything—though some of us are. I'm just not interested. But I still live in the real world, and a lot of it revolves around sex."

"I'll remember that."

"…And thank you, by the way. I didn't get a chance to say that last night."

"For what?"

"For taking it so well when I came out. For not making me feel like a freak. …Let's just say that growing up asexual does not make it easy to connect to your peers as a teenager. I've had a lot of that in the past."

"I think you're remarkable, Felicity."

"Well, thank you for remarking on it."


"For the record, there will be food, right? Actual food? Because I only get an hour for lunch and—"

"Which is why I ordered a few things from the bistro on Ninth. I didn't know if you had any dietary restrictions, so I ordered a few options."

"Great. I hope you saved the receipt so I can pay you back."

"Felicity—"

"I told you, Oliver. Just because you're rich does not give me an excuse to mooch off of you. …That's a weird word. 'Mooch.' No, not using it again."

"I don't think it counts if I want to, Felicity. I don't mind—"

"But I do. …And I'm allergic to nuts and I'm Jewish, so kosher is key."

"I'll remember that."

"…Wait. That's your security here? A four-digit key code?"

"Yeah…"

"…"

"That sigh was a little dramatic."

"Do you know how easy it is to hack a four-digit key code? Two seconds. That's how long I need. With my cell phone, Oliver. …Don't worry. I can fix that."

"I don't remember asking you to."

"That's okay—I forgive you. I'm sure you have a lot on your mind, between the arrowing and the rich family expectations and the meddling little sister."

"Felicity, I'm glad you're enthusiastic, but that doesn't mean you can waltz in here and—-"

"Oliver, don't be exactly half of a thirty-year-old horse named Theodore."

"…Theodore?"

"Your security is crap, and this is the Glades. If I'm going to be down here, that security has got to be upgraded to the twenty-first century. And… what. Is. That?"

"A computer?"

"It's agony, is what it is. They stopped making these in the nineties, Oliver. In computer years, that makes this a museum piece."

"…"

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Oliver. it's rude."

"You're being dramatic, Felicity."

"I'm not being dramatic. It's like you put that computer there just to cause me pain. …Do you want to cause me pain?"

"…"

"…"

"…Fine. You can upgrade the computer."

"It's cute that you think I needed your permission, Oliver."

"You're starting to be more trouble than you're worth, Felicity."

"I'd be insulted if you weren't smiling. And, for the record, I'm not that much trouble at all. Just feed me cake and ice cream and let me optimize your network."

"Maybe I should pay you in chocolate."

"I'm not a fan of sweets, man. …But you apparently weren't talking to me. Are we giving free tours now?"

"Digg, this is Felicity Smoak. She's going to provide technical support for us. Felicity, this is John Diggle, my bodyguard He also helps here."

"Ah, he's the one you torment for fun. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Diggle."

"Miss Smoak. …Oliver, can we talk about this for a minute?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Digg. She has skills we could use."

"You sure that's the only reason? …No offense, Miss Smoak, but I haven't heard about you before and Oliver has a tendency to lose all reason around a beautiful woman."

"I'm trying hard to take that as a compliment, but I'm a little insulted. Not that it's any of your business, but we're not sleeping together. For that matter, why does everyone automatically think that when a man and woman go anywhere together, they're having sex? Or—"

"I think that's more because of me than you, Felicity."

"—for that matter, why does everyone automatically assume I'm straight? …Not important. That's a rant for another time. What's important is that your computer hurts me more than the M. Night Shyamalan version of Avatar: The Last Airbender."

"…"

"…And you don't know what I'm talking about. The important part is that you have offended and insulted me with this setup and I am going to enjoy tearing it apart piece by piece. Along with your security system."

"Felicity, this is my operation—"

"Was. Was your operation. We're partners, which means that we separate tasks according to our skills. You pin people to walls with arrows and do parkour in green leather. I build computers for fun, Oliver. Fun. Sometimes blindfolded, but that was mostly for the club I was in at MIT. …This? The arrow-y, violent, broken-ladder—"

"It's a salmon ladder, Felicity. For exercise."

"—part of the operation? That's yours. But this—the technical, electronic, computer-y part of this operation? It's mine."

"…"

"Your glares are powerless against me, Oliver."

"…I'm starting to think I made a mistake."

"Yes, you did. You put me in the same room as that ancient paperweight you call a computer. …Please don't tell me you're running Windows XP. I'm not sure I can survive that sort of cruel and unusual punishment."

"Felicity, you can't just come in here and change everything!"

"I'm not changing everything, Oliver. Just the parts that are extremely outdated. …Don't worry. I forgive you. After all, you've spent the last five years on an island."

"…You want to start an argument? Fine. If you want me in, Oliver, you have to let me be in. I'm not signing on to be your employee. If you want someone to agree with you every moment of the day, you need to look elsewhere. I'm here because I believe in what you do and because I want to be a part of that. But if I can't have a right to my own opinion, I'm walking out now. Your choice."

"…"

"…"

"…Mmmm."

"What was that?"

"…I'm sorry. …I, um, I want your help."

"Apology accepted. By the time I'm done with this place, the NSA, ARGUS, and the rest of the alphabet soup won't be able to hack in with all of their combined powers."

"I'm not worried about ARGUS. Most likely, they already know. Waller doesn't miss much."

"I don't know what that means, but I'm getting an image of a secret agent and a 'Don't ask questions if you can't handle the answers, Felicity' vibe."

"Miss Smoak?"

"Ew, no. I refuse to answer to that form of address. It's Felicity."

"Felicity. Welcome aboard."

"Um, thanks, I think."

"Take it as a compliment. Diggle doesn't warm up to people that easily."

"Nah, man. I just didn't like you. But you grow on people. …And I've seen you crack mafia bosses without flinching. Yet a blonde who is six inches shorter, dressed in pink, and wearing shoes with pandas on them takes you down. Didn't see that one coming."

"If it makes you feel any better, Oliver, Curtis never wins, either."

"…"

"…"

"…Why pandas?"

"Why not pandas, Oliver?"

"…Sometimes I feel like I'll never understand you."

"You're the one who puts on a leather suit at night and puts arrows in people. If anyone here is complicated, it's you. And I'm not that much of a mystery. I like cake, computers, fuzzy animals, and watching funny cat videos when I'm sad. The rest you'll figure out later. Now, talk to me of lunch. …Is this it?"

"Yeah. Take whatever you want."

"…"

"…"

"Oliver?"

"Yeah, Digg?"

"If you ever drive her away, I'll shoot you."

"I'll let you."