IT conference

Felicity resisted the urge to squeal as she finished her lunch and headed in for the next panel. It was still hard to believe she was actually here. Despite her technically working in administration now, Oliver had arranged for her to attend with co-workers from her old department. She didn't even care about their snide looks when it meant she got to experience the joy and euphoria that was this.

Each session was more interesting than the last, ranging from data de-identification and bioinformatics to virtual reality systems. She'd had her mind blown at least ten times that morning alone, and her tablet was brimming with notes and things she wanted to experiment with later. Coordinating the Arrow's night-time activities from Las Vegas was complicated but well worth the effort.

She couldn't wait for the next presentation in particular. Hosted by Tony Stark, it was slated to be about artificial intelligence and natural language user interface programs. From gossip around the water cooler, however, she'd gathered that he didn't always stay on topic. If he'd made any discoveries he wanted to share, he was just as likely to use the platform to debut them.

That was no surprise, given how suddenly and bluntly he'd come out as Iron Man. Sometimes, back when she was stuck carrying out entry level help desk tasks in her corner of Queen Consolidated's IT department, she'd wondered if she'd made the right decision in turning down Stark Industries' offer. Even though her regrets had evaporated like smoke the moment she started doing something more, being something more, part of her still wondered.

She owed it herself to make the most of this talk and learn everything she could from Stark. There might even be something she could integrate into her own computer system and use to help the people of Starling City.

Taking a deep breath, she settled into the front row of the lecture hall and swung the hinged table over her lap. The other attendees slowly trickled in after her, but she only had eyes for the stage, with its large projection screen and empty podium. She'd never felt so captivated by someone she'd never even met.

Hopefully, he's not late this time, she thought, and she stifled a laugh, knowing that nobody else would appreciate the comment. Truth be told, though, she would probably give him a pass if he were. Saving lives was a good reason to lose track of time — at least, she hoped so, or else her reputation was in serious trouble.

Right on time and not a second before, a smooth voice commanded, 'Jarvis, hit the lights.'

The room darkened and two spotlights illuminated the left side of the stage. Out from the wings strode Stark, waving and grinning broadly as if he lived for attention. If Felicity were up there, she'd be grateful if she didn't trip.

To her eternal annoyance, he was even more attractive in person. She'd hate to know how good-looking he was up close, away from his public persona.

The spotlights followed him to the middle of the stage like asteroids sucked into his orbit. 'And' — he clapped his hands — 'lumos.'

The overhead lights brightened and the spotlights dimmed until everything was as it had been.

'Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I told some audiovisual intern what to do instead of trusting him to do the job himself. That's because I wasn't speaking to the intern — sorry, Kyle. I was speaking to my assistant, Jarvis, who is the first and most advanced natural language user interface system in the world. Say hello, Jarvis.'

'It is a pleasure to meet you all.'

Felicity flinched at the robotised voice, which seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere at all. Surround sound times infinity. He didn't sound like it was a pleasure; apparently Stark had programmed in opinions, manners, and an aptitude for white lies.

Oh, this was going to be good. She doubted that he'd reveal all his secrets, or even any true ones, but even a brief look into how Jarvis operated would give her a starting point to improve her coding.

-x-

The long queue for asking questions was finally thinning out. Felicity bounced on the balls of her feet impatiently as she waited for her turn. Most people asked technical questions about Jarvis, but at least a dozen tossed in questions about Iron Man, like how fast Stark — or Tony, as he insisted they call him — could fly and what his blasters were made from. Tony humoured them and replied to everyone, although in some cases, his answers were understandably vague. Felicity figured that nowadays, his main trade secrets related to the suit. Widely dispersing information about how it worked would only open him up to people identifying vulnerabilities and designing better methods of taking it down.

The balding man in front of her received his reply and returned to his seat, and Felicity took his place at the microphone. She was brimming with questions, but she'd spent the wait weighing up which one mattered the most.

'Hi, Tony,' she said, her voice amplified so it projected around the room. She tried to ignore the itch of eyes on the back of her neck. There were only a handful of women in attendance, and she knew that while many of the attendees were genuinely curious about her question, others hoped and anticipated she'd fall flat on her face with a noob question. 'Regarding the security features you mentioned earlier, could you expand on — '

Glass shattered, and screams pierced the air as a sudden chill rushed in from the ceiling like the downdraft of an aeroplane. Felicity stumbled backwards as a costumed man fell to the ground in front of her, landing in a crouch surrounded by thousands of glittering shards. She bumped into something solid — a man a few years older than her, fear frozen on his face, his glasses reflecting the blue latex of the intruder.

She shivered; the temperature in the room had dropped at least a dozen degrees.

Around them, the screams turned into pandemonium as people surged in every direction, nobody able to find the exits in their panic.

They were just going to make things worse for themselves.

On the stage, Tony's suit was beginning to form around him, encasing him in what had to be nearly a hundred pounds of metal and protection. But even if he took out the unnaturally cold man, that wouldn't do the crowd much good if they crushed each another.

'Don't panic,' Felicity said into the microphone, raising her voice loud enough to be heard over the cacophony while trying to sound self-assured and calming. Thankfully, although she couldn't fight worth a damn, her time in the lair had taught her to identify all exits before danger broke out, not afterwards. 'There are exits at the back of the room as well as on both sides of the stage. Please form orderly lines. Walk with haste, but do not run.'

The man turned to face her, narrowing his eyes. He raised his arms, and his hands buzzed as they glowed with ice-blue light. Felicity blinked against the glare but kept talking. It wasn't as if running would do her much good right now anyway — all the exits were blocked with people trying to get free. Seconds before she sensed the blast would come, she threw herself to her right, arms lifting to cover her head.

Something grabbed her, then she was hurtling through the air, hair whipping about her face as the remains of her sandwich was tossed around in her stomach and burned the base of her throat. Furniture flashed by beneath her, and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep from vomiting.

'Thanks for the attempt at crowd control,' said the smooth, cocky voice she'd been listening to for the better part of the past hour. 'But leave the confrontations to the pros, okay? Blizzard can freeze people into popsicles, and there's no humane way to dethaw them.'

Just as suddenly as she had been picked up, she was settled back on the ground outside the conference room.

She tried to thank him before he flew back into the building, but she still didn't trust herself to speak. It felt odd to be caught on the bystander side of an attack for once, and she hated the fact that there was nothing she could do to stop the threat.

Felicity pulled her phone from her pocket as she melded into the wave of people leaving the venue. Time to get back to her mom's house before word spread far enough to worry her.

A/N: Originally, they weren't going to interact after Blizzard interrupted, but it felt incomplete. So while I'm stretching the definition of 'almost met' to its limit here, I figure that even though they both spoke to one another, both interactions were one-way and they never had a proper conversation, so it doesn't fully count as meeting.