(A/N: I'm not incredibly pleased with this, but it was my first foray back into Olicity fic after a somewhat lengthy hiatus, so it makes sense that I'd be a little rusty. Sorry for any typos. I typed it up fast and am posting it quickly so I can go to bed.)

FF #29: Up Close and Personal

"Hold the elevator!" a slightly raspy male voice called out just as the doors shut.

Felicity punched a button and the elevator doors slid open. It was a reflex—she wasn't feeling very charitable. A giant in a suit skidded around the corner and slipped through the narrow opening. He jabbed another button and the doors closed the rest of the way.

"Thanks," he said, turning to her and flashing her a calculated smile like it was a box to be checked off a list. "You saved me."

Oh my God, it's Oliver Queen. How could five years on a deserted island make him look less like a serial killer? He's actually hot now!

Mercifully, she managed to keep that all to herself, only saying, "Saved you from what?"

"Unrealistic expectations," he said with a sigh, letting his head fall back to thud against the wall. "And an intrusive bodyguard."

"Isn't that kind of their job?" Felicity asked.

"Oh, he's very good at his job," said Oliver.

No, Mr. Queen, she corrected herself.

"Makes it harder to ditch him," he continued, "but I'm up for the challenge."

"When you came up with your great run-from-the-bodyguard plan, did you think about where you'd go?" she asked. "You haven't picked a floor yet."

"Oh. Right." He leaned forward and stabbed a button.

36. Three floors up from where they were, and completely the opposite direction from where Felicity needed to go. She groaned inwardly as the elevator rose.

"What?"

Or maybe not so inwardly.

"Nothing," she said, but she was too tired to keep the glum, Eeyore-like tone out of her voice.

"It's not nothing." He turned his full attention on her, and wow, it was intense. "You're obviously disappointed by my choice, so just tell me."

She pushed up her glasses on her nose. "You want to go up. I want to go down. It's only three floors, so the elevator will take you up first, and then it'll stop a million times on the way down, and I've been here for fourteen—" She checked her phone. "—fifteen hours already. I just want to get down to my car, go home and throw on my Wonder Woman pj's, and fall asleep on the couch in front of an X-Files episode I've seen ten times."

He fumbled in his pocket. "You know, they gave me this key . . ." He pulled out a key ring and started flipping through the keys like pages in a book. He chose a small silver one and inserted it into the lock below the elevator's bank of buttons.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting the elevator to go back down."

The key wouldn't turn. He forced it so hard that the head snapped off, leaving the long piece with teeth in the lock. The elevator slowed to a halt.

"Oh my God, did you break it?"

"Yeah." He held out his palm to show her the fragment.

Felicity nudged him aside. She pushed her button again—P3. She pushed his button. She pushed all the buttons, but the elevator didn't start up again, and the doors remained closed.

She sighed. "You broke the elevator."

He stared at her for a moment, a look of panic briefly flashing across his face. Then he reached past her and pulled the big red plunger labeled Emergency Stop.

"We're already stopped," she started to say, but her words were swallowed by the shrieking of an alarm. The lights cut low to red and began flashing.

The guy was frantic now, pushing all the buttons like she had, but the alarm continued to wail. HE slammed his fist into the wall in frustration.

"Hey."

With one hand, she grabbed his fist, forced his fingers to uncurl. With the other hand, she pushed the Emergency Stop plunger back in, shutting off the alarm. The lights stayed dim and red, but they were no longer flashing.

Felicity looked up at him. He seemed to be somewhere else.

"Hey," she said again, squeezing his hand.

After a moment, he met her gaze.

"Claustrophobic?" she asked.

"Sort of."

"How about we sit for a minute? Sitting's good."

He nodded, so they sat on the floor, shoulders touching. Kind of. He was about a foot taller than her. When she tucked her feet to the side, he caught sight of her panda flats and smiled.

"Felicity Smoak." She stuck out her hand and he shook it.

"So, Felicity Smoak, what have you been doing here for fifteen hours?" he asked.

"I.T.," she said, showing him her employee badge. "System upgrades. And some bonehead on the 33rd floor picked today to download a suspicious attachment and e-mail a virus to half the building."

He smiled again. It was impossible not to smile back. "Allow me to introduce to myself."

"Oh, I know who you are. You're Mr. Queen."

"No, Mr. Queen was my father," he replied. "I'm Oliver, the bonehead from the 3rd floor."

Her mouth dropped open. A slow blush simmered on her cheeks.

"Let's pretend I didn't say 'bonehead,'" she responded. "I didn't mean it, except . . . Really? Not downloading suspicious attachments is so basic. They cover it in new employee orientation."

Oliver's smile turned sheepish. "My family owns the company. I didn't go to new employee orientation."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

They chatted for an hour. Oliver was able to forget his claustrophobia, and Felicity was able to forget she was talking to someone whose name was on the building. And somewhere between explaining Doctor Who and the kiss he pressed to her temple right before they were rescued, she was able to forgive him for making her long day even longer, twice.