Oliver watched as Felicity held the figurines close to her face, turning them over in her hands. Th concentration on her face made him smile, and deep down he felt something else. Admiration? Pride? He let the obvious word fall away, unprepared for the consequences of acknowledging it.
Felicity pushed her glasses up and then sigh. "Well, I'm flattered you want me to trace these back to someone, but I honestly believe that these are hand-crafted, Oliver. I told you this when we got the last one." She handed the figurines over to him and their fingers touched briefly. "Um, uh," she stuttered. "I don't know how to trace hand-crafted work."
He nodded, pushing back his disappointment. He knew it was a long shot before he even asked for her help. He looked over to Diggle to find his expression showing the same thing. No one was surprised by this development.
"Okay," Diggle began, crossing his arms as he leaned against the rail of the stairs. "So we believe these things are handmade, which makes them untraceable. So, what else do we know?"
"Well, we know these are extremely creepy," Felicity said as she eyed their growing collection.
"Let's be serious here," Oliver said.
From the sparring mats, Roy laughed as he attacked a punching bag. "Well, they are kinda creepy."
"I said extremely."
Roy kicked the bag and then sent out a flurry of punches. "I wouldn't go that far."
"Guys," Diggle said, his tone signaling his irritation. "Please. So he sent on to you, Oliver, and then he sent these to your mother. Why?"
"Good question," Oliver mumbled, starting to pace. He dug his hands into his jean pockets and sighed. Has he stretched his fingers slightly, he felt a folded sheet of paper in the left pocket. He looked down as he fished it out. It was from a yellow legal pad, and it was folded so small it took some time to unfold.
"What's that?" Diggle asked, making his way over to Oliver's side.
"I don't know. I found it in my pocket." Oliver smoothed out the last fold and found a sloppy message written in dark black ink.
Don't you miss home, Mr. Queen? I found it quite cozy. -The Master
Oliver read it over and over until Roy snatched it from his fingers and glared at it. "This guy," he said, followed by an uncomfortable chuckle. "This guy needs to drop-dead."
Felicity came up beside Roy and read the message, slowly frowning as she read. "Guys, if he's able to send us a feed to surveillance cameras, what's stopping him from hacking into out system and using it?"
Oliver looked up quickly, a new worry spreading through his body. "Felicity, you're in charge of our security systems. Are you saying they aren't as secure as you've said."
Felicity shook her head. "No, their secure. Trust me. I run diagnostics on them every day and update them regularly. I'm just not sure what this guy is capable of."
They all stood in uncomfortable silence, mulling over Felicity's words. Oliver glanced back and forth between the note and the figurines, his hands clenched into fists. I gotta catch this guy.
Felicity scanned the note and ran it through a program to track handwritten items. She hoped the software would come up with some possibilities, but the process was taking longer than she expected. Behind her, she heard the repetitive Ch-Clang of a shirtless Oliver on the salmon ladder. She resisted the urge to look back and watch him. There was once a time she wouldn't hesitate. But the night before had caused her to reevaluate her attachment to him.
The screen read seventy percent when John brought in sacks of Big Belly Burger. Her and Roy jumped up from their seats at the sight, but Oliver continued up and down the ladder, ignoring them as they stuffed their faces.
"So," Roy whispered through a mouthful of french-fries. He swallow then continued. "Who do you think this guy is?"
"A genius," Felicity answered without a second thought.
"I mean really."
"Like I said... a genius." She took a sip of her milkshake and then added: "That's the only way he could have hacked his way into sending us those feeds." She glanced over at the computer. Seventy-two percent. She sighed impatiently.
"Whoever he is, he's clearly dangerous."
"And creepy," Roy added, winking toward Felicity. She grinned.
From the ladder, Felicity heard the sound of Oliver's feet hitting thr ground. She turned to see him standing with his back towards them, head resting on the metal frame. The muscles of his back and shoulders were tense, seeming to fight against the ins and outs of his breathing. Then he turned, his face set in obvious rage.
"Felicity," he said, voicing her name as a question.
"Yes?"
"Got anything for the Arrow to take care of?"
She wiped her hands on a flimsy napkin and then moved to her computer. She glanced at the progress before minimizing the screen. Seventy-five percent. She scrolled through a few pages of police chatter before finding something she'd brought up weeks before. "Well, that bogus charity auction is tonight."
"Charity auction?" Roy and Oliver spoke at once, both raising their eyebrows at her words.
"Some guy, a newly-established millionaire, put out invites for some charity auction. When I did some digging on him, I found that many believed he was involved in the kidnappings of teenage girls all over the city. Many in the police department believe that he's using this auction as a cover for human trafficking." Felicity shivered at the thought. "I snagged us a couple of invites a few weeks back, before all this stuff with The Master started."
Oliver nodded. "Oh... right."
"If you're up for it," Felicity said before looking away. "We could go. See if we can stop it."
"Do you have a plan for this?" Oliver asked.
Felicity bit her lip nervously. "Well, kind of. Though I'm not sure you'll go for it."
They went over each aspect of the plan. Each member of Team Arrow had their roles to play. As the day wore on, All she could do was watch the progress on the identification tick slowly on, getting stuck at ninety-two percent at six in the evening. By then, Oliver had slipped into a perfectly tailored suit, and Digg threw on a bogus security guard outfit to match the bogusness of the event. To the untrained eye, the uniform looked real.
Felicity grudgingly gave up her seat at the computers to Roy, who seemed terrified of the technology at his disposal. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, panic in his voice.
Felicity grinned. "I'm gonna pull up the feeds of the security cameras at the venue so you can watch our every move. You'll be communicating the same way I do for other missions." She pointed to the headset hanging off the edge of one monitor. "Continue to check the progress on the identification software." She leaned in and whispered into his ear. "If anything pops up, notify me first by pressing this button." She pointed to the correct one.
"Right..." Roy gulped back his nervousness, all the information clearly overwhelming him. "Anything else I should know? Like, what buttons I should never touch under any circumstances? This is a lair. There has to be one of those buttons."
Felicity let out a girlish giggle. "I have to keep some things to myself."
"But... Felicity!" Roy swiveled in the chair and stared wide-eyed at the screens.
As Felicity walked by Digg, he mumbled, "Do we really have a button like that?"
Felicity scrunched up her face and shook her head. "Not a chance," she whispered in reply.
She rushed to the bathroom to find her dress hanging neatly from a hook on the wall. Black lace, shimmering beading and a lengthy slit in the front. She tore off her clothes and slid into the luxurious fabric, feeling instantly out-of-place. It's just a dress, Smoak! She reached for the zipper and pulled it up awkwardly. The slit came all the way up to the middle of her left thigh and the bodice hugged her chest and pushed up, creating cleavage she didn't realize she could have. Okay... This isn't just a dress...
She took off her glasses and put them safely in a spare case, then put in her contact lenses. After that, she grabbed the make-up bag she left at the foundry for such occasions and began applying simple eyeliner, mascara and some rose red lipstick. Looking in the mirror, she saw someone she almost didn't recognize. She put the finishing touches to her hair and then took a deep breath before opening the door.
The bathroom door creaked open and Felicity stepped out. Oliver's mouth dropped open for a split second before he was able to regain his composure. The slick, lacy black dress hugged her body, enhancing all the right curves. Her chest was exposed more than he'd ever seen before, and he quickly shifted his gaze upward to her face.
Her glasses were gone, and her eyes were lined with eyeliner and her lips were full and red. Every aspect of her appearance screamed classic pin-up. And he could tell she was uncomfortable. Her arms were tense and her hands trembling as they held tightly to her clutch; a clutch that hid her tablet perfectly.
"Wow," Roy said.
"Shut up," Felicity said, returning his shocked expression with a delightful middle-finger.
Oliver chuckled. "Okay, so are we ready?" He walked over to Felicity and held out her coat to help her into it.
She grinned. "What a gentleman," she said, nervousness apparent in her tone. He watched her take a deep breath before sliding her arms one by one into the sleeves. She shrugged it on and then raised an arm toward the stairs. "Onward!" Then she slapped a palm to her forehead. "That was stupid. What the f-"
"Relax, Felicity," Oliver whispered into her ear, interrupting her. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they hadn't helped matters. Or rather, I'm not helping matters.
Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! A little longer than some of my other ones. I'm sure you're all dying to know what happens at this auction, right!? I'll be updating as soon as I can! Until then, please leave some feedback and reviews! Your suggestions and even your praise help me a ton! Thanks so much for reading!