Disclaimer: I do not own the setting or the characters from Arrow.

Welcome Home, Oliver!

The only thing that rocked Starling City more than the news of the deaths of Oliver and Robert Queen was the news that the former had not, in fact, died. No, Oliver Queen was very much alive, albeit rocked to his core and tormented by his actions over the last five years, which he refused to divulge to anyone. His mother and sister were deeply saddened by Robert's passing aboard the Queen's Gambit, but the news that Oliver was on his way home made up for some of that grief. And now Oliver was indeed home; he was back, and he was safe...or so he thought.

To celebrate her son's miraculous return, Moira Queen decided to host a gala of sorts at Queen Consolidated the week after Oliver's arrival. He insisted that he did not need a party to get reacquainted with those he'd been separated from; in fact, it was really the last thing he wanted, but Moira was unrelenting. She organized the event, with the help of her daughter and her fiance, and eventually, Oliver accepted the inevitable.

Thea, ever the party-planner herself, suggested to Moira that they make it a masquerade as a way to ease Oliver into being in the public eye again, and Moira was all for it; even Oliver had to admit to his little sister that her idea was a good one, and he voiced his approval to her. The invitations began rolling out, the media caught wind of the event, and before long, the big night had arrived.

Oliver stood in his old bedroom, adjusting his tie and fixing the concealing dark green mask that Thea had helped him pick out. He hadn't seen many of his friends in years, but a part of him wondered if he would still be easily recognizable even with the mask on. Oliver was nervous, to say the least, but a quick pep talk with his sister earlier that afternoon had put him slightly more at ease. But not by much.

After being fawned over by his mother for what seemed like an eternity, Oliver and his family headed to Queen Consolidated. Walter, Moira's fiance, paid the limo driver generously for his time, and as they arrived, Oliver took in a deep breath. "Ollie, what is it?" Thea asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing, I'm fine." He ignored her pleas and stepped out of the car, staring anxiously up at the doors.

Moira patted him on the shoulder. "Are you ready, Oliver?" she asked.

Oliver turned to his mother and forced a semi-convincing smile. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He headed up toward the doors, with his mother clutching his arm beside him. "This will be wonderful, sweetheart," she assured him. "I can guarantee, it's just what you need to start getting back to the way things were before. Champagne, music, seeing everyone again-"

"Who all is here, exactly?" interrupted Oliver.

Thea piped up from behind them. "Well, the public had an open invite," she said. "But I made sure to issue special invitations to Tommy and his father, McKenna, Quentin and Laurel, Ray and Jean-"

"You invited the Lances?" asked Oliver. "Why? You know they hate me."

"They don't hate you," said Moira.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Mom, you know how they feel about me. Because of what happened with Sara."

Thea shook her head. "Ollie, what happened to Sara was not your fault," she assured him. "They'll have to understand that sooner or later."

Oliver said nothing more and continued walking, wondering what in the hell he had gotten himself into.

By the time the family was inside, Queen Consolidated was already bustling with more activity than usual. Moira was right: the whole city had apparently had an open invite. Oliver found himself recognizing a few employees that he had met in passing who worked at QC, but was uninterested in starting casual conversations with any of them. He recognized Malcolm Merlyn, the father of his old friend Tommy, standing nearby and chatting with some unrecognizable brunette in five-inch heels. Malcolm had never been on Oliver's list of favorite people before he'd left, and now that Oliver was back, he found that Tommy's father certainly hadn't risen up any spots on the list, either.

As Moira stopped to speak to someone in a hideously ugly orange mask with feathers adorning the top, Oliver headed up the stairs. If his mother wanted to talk to everyone about how wonderful it was to have him back, that was fine by him, but he had no desire to share her sentiment. He could faintly hear Thea calling after him, but he ignored her, thinking only of his unflinching and no doubt selfish desire to find a less-crowded room to sulk in. As he climbed the steps, he noticed a girl with brown hair and almond-shaped eyes, only partially hidden by her scarlet-and-orange mask that gave off the essence of fire.

Laurel.

Against his better judgement, Oliver stopped, not-so-subtly staring and silently noting that she really hadn't changed at all since the last time he'd seen her...she was just as beautiful as ever. But as he contemplated approaching her for the first time in five long years, the sight of her father next to her changed his mind. Quentin had never been Oliver's biggest fan, and given that the grudge-holding police officer wanted to break his neck for breaking his eldest daughter's heart and taking his younger daughter off on a mission that would ultimately end in her death, Oliver couldn't really blame him. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit coat and kept walking, praying that Officer Lance wouldn't see him.

Before long, Oliver had made it to one of the larger QC rooms, which had been cleared out to make room for a small bar, a few plants, and a pretty wide area that was currently occupied by couples dancing with one another. He rolled his eyes, adjusted his dark green mask, and walked up to the bar, recognizing the person manning it immediately. "Tommy?"

"Oliver!" Tommy exclaimed, glancing up at his old friend. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

Oliver forced half a smile. "Tommy, how on Earth did my mother convince you to work this event?" he asked.

Tommy smirked. "Your mother is a persistent woman, Oliver," he replied. "Generous wage and access to all drinks on the premises."

"Of course," Oliver muttered.

Seeming to sense his friend's discomfort, Tommy cleared his throat. "Well? What'll it be? Wine? Beer? Scotch on the rocks? Aviation cocktail?"

At his words, Oliver scoffed. "Really, Tommy? A cocktail?" he asked. "Gross."

"Hey, how do I know your tastes didn't change while you were away?" Tommy replied. "It could happen, you know."

"Well, it didn't," said Oliver curtly. "Scotch on the rocks will do, thanks."

Tommy gave him a nod without another word on the matter, and turned away to make the drink for his friend. Oliver tapped his fingers on the bartop rapidly, forgetting the feeling of attending these extravagant parties. It was practically a habit before he left, but now he was feeling out of place and out of practice. In the worst way.

"And what exactly is wrong with a cocktail?" said a voice nearby.

Oliver glanced up at a young blonde woman in a black dress who was sitting two seats down from him. Tommy had just handed her what looked like a Mai Tai, and he narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me, what was that?"

She cleared her throat to speak up louder. "You wanna tell me what's wrong with a cocktail, Mr. Man?" The woman had a small smirk on her face, and she sat expectantly, waiting for his answer.

Oliver clenched his teeth. "They aren't my type," he muttered. "I can't stand them. Too...sweet."

"And that automatically gives you the right to belittle them?" the woman asked. "Just because you don't like them, doesn't mean they're trash. I mean, some might be, like gin and tonic? Ugh. Too strong for me. Or Moscow Mules, they have their virtues, but if you don't portion them right, they get a little yeech, but sometimes-"

"I'm sorry," Oliver interrupted. "What is your point, exactly?"

She seemed to realize that she was babbling, and paused for a second. "My point is that some people like some things, and some people like others. Fact is, you can't judge me for liking my fruity drinks while you sit there pouring smokey malt juice down your throat. It's only fair." She gestured to Oliver's glass of Scotch, which Tommy had apparently placed next to him while he was listening to the woman's speech.

Oliver sighed, realizing that judging someone based on something so trivial was pretty stupid. "Fine. You're right," he said after a moment. "I guess we all have different tastes. Sorry, miss, can we just start over? Pretend I never said anything?"

The girl smiled, and something about the way that the corners of her mouth curved up slightly and the way her eyes crinkled a little underneath her royal purple mask made Oliver's heart flutter. "I'm always one for giving second chances," she replied.

Oliver couldn't help but be relieved. "Good."

He scooted one chair down so as to hear her better, Tommy approached the counter again. "How's your Mai Tai, Miss Smoak?" he asked.

She gave him a thumbs up. "Like a luau in my mouth."

Tommy grinned approvingly, and Oliver nearly choked on his Scotch. "You have a...unique way of describing things, Miss Smoak," he said, clearing his throat.

"Oh please, Miss Smoak is my mother," she said. "Call me Felicity."

"Felicity," Oliver repeated. "That's pretty. From the Latin word for 'good fortune'."

She eyed him suspiciously, clearly surprised by what he had said. "Okay, usually the first thing a guy does when I tell him my name is ask for my number or say something painfully cheesy. But reciting from the Latin dictionary is definitely a new one for me."

Oliver shrugged. "What can I say? I had an expensive education."

Felicity took another drink. "I'm not sure I even want to know," she said. "And what do they call you, pretty boy Scotch-lover?"

Her words threw him off. The whole time they had been talking, Oliver had assumed that she had started talking to him because she knew he was the back-from-the-dead Oliver Queen, playboy heir to Queen Consolidated...but clearly, that was not the case. She really didn't seem to know who he was, and it was something he wasn't used to. But he couldn't necessarily say that he didn't like it.

"Ollie," he finally replied. "My name is Ollie."

It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a total lie.

Felicity seemed convinced. "Welcome to Queen Consolidated, Ollie," she said, gesturing dramatically with her hands. "Enjoy your stay."

Oliver smirked. "I've been here a time or two," he replied, dragging his pointer finger along the rim of his glass.

"Really?" said Felicity. "Do you work here? How have I not seen you before?"

Oliver resisted the urge to clap a hand over his mouth. "I took an extended leave of absence," he answered, barely giving his brain a chance to catch up with his mouth.

"What, like a vacation?"

"You could say that."

"Oh, you poor, brooding rascal."

As Felicity flagged down Tommy for another drink, Oliver's mind was racing. If she only knew who he was, where he had been...what he'd done, she probably wouldn't want to sit within five hundred feet of him, let alone at the same bar. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind for the moment, deciding that this was his chance to make an impression on someone who didn't already know him as the Oliver Queen that everyone else knew. "Felicity, would you like to dance with me?"

The question seemed to catch her completely off-guard, and she froze. "Whoa, I, uh...I don't know about that. I'm not usually one to party, but I don't usually dance with people I don't know."

"But you do know me," Oliver quipped, flashing her a charming smile. "You know my name, you know I love to go on exotic vacations, and you could not disagree more with my taste in alcohol. That seems enough to get us started, don't you think?"

Felicity opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out, and she sighed. "I guess I can't argue with that logic. I'll be back for that Mai Tai, Mr. Merlyn."

"Tommy, please," said Tommy. "You two have fun." He shot a wink in the direction of Oliver, who did his best to ignore it; instead of reacting, he stood up and offered his hand to Felicity. After a moment of hesitation, she took it, clearly more nervous than before, and let him lead her out onto the dance floor.

Felicity placed her hands on his shoulders as he placed his on her waist, and they began to sway slowly to the music. Oliver had always been pretty good at dancing...at least, he thought so, and usually, so were the girls that he managed to drag out onto the dance floor. But after a couple of minutes, it became abundantly clear to Oliver that Felicity did not do this very often, and seemed slightly awkward with her movements. "Hey," he said. "Relax. You don't have to worry with me, okay?"

"I know," Felicity muttered. "I just don't really go to these things a lot. This is the first party that Queen Consolidated has had in years. I guess I get it."

Oliver nodded. "It's really something, isn't it?"

She shrugged. "I don't have much to compare it to. Not really a party person, myself, believe it or not. But yeah, it's quite the shindig. I hear Mrs. Queen went all out. But I guess it makes sense. Her son just returned from the dead or something like that."

"I suppose," replied Oliver.

"I do wonder what he's really like sometimes," Felicity went on. "Her son. I never met him. Heard a lot of things, but never met him in person. I started working at QC long after he disappeared. I always wondered about who he was, but I saw a picture of him once, while I was working. In Mrs. Queen's office."

Oliver remembered the picture of him and Robert that sat on his mother's office desk, and let a tiny smile appear on his face when she mentioned that Queen Consolidated was her place of work, but it was gone in an instant. "I can't imagine what she went through," he said quietly, thinking back to how his mother had sounded on the phone when he'd told her he was alive and on his way home.

Felicity nodded. "It must have been rough for his sister, too. I couldn't imagine losing a sibling. I mean, I don't have siblings myself, but still," she said. "Have you ever met him? Oliver Queen, I mean."

"Not really," replied Oliver, glancing nervously around the room for anyone he knew. "He's kind of an enigma, as far as I know. Can we talk about something else?"

"Of course," Felicity said, wincing. "Sorry. I usually don't talk about Starling City's billionaire playboys with a dance partner that I met ten minutes ago."

Oliver shook his head. "No worries." He noticed that she looked slightly embarrassed by her words, and in one swift motion, he grabbed Felicity's hand and twirled her around for no particular reason.

She was clearly surprised by his actions, which was what he subconsciously wanted; she nearly lost her balance and leaned into his chest, trying to steady herself and looking very flushed. "That was, um...unexpected," she stammered. "Wouldn't have thought you so smooth, Ollie."

Oliver looked down at her, and noticed that her eyes were a shimmering baby blue color under her violet mask. "And now, Felicity Smoak, you can add that to the long list of things that you don't know about me," he murmured.

Felicity met his eyes for a moment, dark and mysterious and...tortured. He didn't look like the kind of guy who had grown up with it easy...she guessed he had a hidden demon or two. Not unlike herself, come to think of it. She looked down at her shoes. "I, uh, I guess I don't know very much about you."

Oliver shrugged. "Learning things comes with time," he said. "But you know, we could always-"

"Ollie!"

The sound of Thea's voice cut him off, and he turned to see his sister and his mother heading toward him. Felicity glanced up. "You know Mrs. Queen?" she whispered. "How well-connected are you?"

"You'd be surprised," Oliver chuckled.

He smiled an awkward smile as Moira approached him. "Goodness, we've been looking everywhere for you, Oliver," she said sternly, seeming a little confused by the sight of Oliver and Felicity together. "You've certainly made a habit of disappearing on us lately, but no matter. Come toast with us. I told you that we wanted to celebrate your return." Oliver frowned, not knowing what exactly to say, while Moira haughtily turned to a stunned Felicity. "I must steal my son for a few moments, Miss Smoak, if you don't mind."

She motioned for Oliver to follow her and Thea and trotted away. Oliver glanced at Felicity, who looked like she was still processing what his mother had said, and sighed. "I really wish she wouldn't do that," he muttered. "But I do have to go, and I promise, I will explain why I didn't tell you who I really was-"

"You're THE Oliver Queen?" she gasped. "Heir to Queen Consolidated?!"

"That's why," Oliver groaned. "Just-I'll explain later. Thank you for the dance, Felicity." To her surprise, he leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek before heading off to join his family, leaving a very confused and starstruck Felicity in his wake.

(A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. It was written as more of a self-satisfaction piece, and I've been on an Olicity kick lately. Feel free to review or PM! - BlackthornUnicorn98)