Chapter 2– Crazy Fern Lady
An: I do not own Arrow. Thank you to my lovely beta Meagan for this chapter.
Oliver arrived home at 10:00pm completely exhausted. He spent the entire day accompanying his father to meetings and then when the clock hit 5 o'clock and he thought it was finally time to go home, his father wanted to discuss the outcomes of the meetings. That had taken over four hours. By the time his father was done with him, he was starving and irritated that for the entire week he hadn't been able to get home before 10:00pm. A quick stop at Big Belly Burger, his fourth for the week, solved his hunger problem but he was still irritated and tired. If he hadn't promised Tommy he would come to the club tonight he would be heading straight to bed.
He glanced out his window to see the lights on in Crazy Fern Lady's apartment. He really needed to stop calling her by that name before he said it to her face. He had seen her quite a few times over the last month. The first time was at the mailboxes. He had a hard time getting his box open and she helped him though he could clearly see the judgement in her eyes. After that he saw her a few times by the pool, mostly on the weekends when it was hot outside.
In order to get out of the compound he had to drive pass her apartment every morning. Most times her car was gone by the time he made it there but a few times she was heading to her car dressed very professionally. One time he was behind her as he drove out. They drove all the way to Queen Consolidated but she kept going straight as he turned to go into QC's underground car park. There were several other multinational companies on that street that she could be working for. He wondered if they knew she was crazy?
He threw all thoughts of her out of his head and he entered his bedroom. He took off his clothes and threw them on top of the large pile to wash. Raisa was supposed to be helping him but Isabel had stopped that from happening. She had manipulated his father into declaring that Oliver needed to learn to do things without Raisa's assistance. That meant he needed to cook, clean and do the washing himself.
He opened his closet and couldn't find the pants and shirt he was going to wear. He glanced at the pile and saw said outfit peeking out from the bottom. He pulled the shirt out of the pile and smelt it to see if it passed the smell test. It failed. He really should do his laundry. He didn't think going out to buy a shirt every time he needed one was the responsible thing to be doing.
He picked up his washing and walked over to the closet door that hid the washing machine and dryer. He opened the closet, lifted the lid on the machine and threw the clothes in. The machine could only accommodate a fifth of the pile. He closed the lid and expected it to start. When it didn't he stared at the washing machine. There were so many buttons. Was there a simple on and off switch? He pulled out his phone and called his on-again off-again girlfriend Laurel Lance. They were currently in an on period so he was hopeful he would get some advice.
"Hey Ollie," she answered happily.
"Hey babe, do you know how to turn on the washing machine in my apartment?" he asked.
"I thought Raisa was doing that for you?" she replied.
"Isabel put a stop to that. I was hoping you could come over and help me?" he pleaded.
"You want me to do your washing for you?" Laurel asked angrily.
"No I wan ..." he tried to explain but was cut off.
"Guess what Ollie, I'm not your maid! I won't ever be doing your laundry even when we're married!" she screamed at him before hanging up the phone.
Guess they might be off again. That was probably good since he was going to the club tonight. She never liked it when he went to the club.
He placed both hands on the washing machine and stared at the counsel willing it to tell him what to do. He definitely needed help. It was too late to call Raisa. He wasn't sure his mother would be any help either. His sister and Tommy would be in the same boat as him and he didn't want to call any of his other friends because they would just laugh at him.
He glanced out the window and saw the lights were still on at Crazy Fern Lady's place. It was worth a try. She already had a very low opinion of him. He had nothing to lose.
Felicity was half way through the latest episode of one of her favourite shows when there was a knock at her door. She glanced at the time, 10:25 pm. Maybe she could ignore it. No one ever knocked on her door. She barely knew her neighbours except for Mr. Queen, if you could count her one encounter with him as getting to know him. She had seen him around a few times after that and even helped him get into his mailbox but they never really conversed.
The knock came again and Felicity realised she had to answer the door. She walked to her purse and pulled out her taser. Even though she lived in a very good area, it was always best to be prepared. She picked up her tablet and pulled up the feed for the little mini camera she had hidden above her door. She had watched enough horror movies to know never to look through the peephole. She was surprised to see Oliver Queen standing in front of her door.
He knocked again and against her better judgement she decided to open the door. She checked her appearance in the mirror she was still in her work skirt and a blouse so she was presentable.
"Yes Mr. Queen," she said cooly as she opened the door.
"Hey," he said pleasantly.
He was still in his work clothes minus the suit jacket and he looked like a Greek God. She forced herself to push away all thoughts about his physical appearance. "I suppose you need something?"
He looked away bashfully and ran his hand through his short hair. Her mind wandered what it would be like if she ran her hand through his hair before she pulled her mind back.
"I was wondering if you could help me with the washing machine? There are just too many buttons," he said sheepishly.
"I know what you mean. I had to google it myself. I'm accustomed to the simple turn the knob and pull to start but no they had to go and complicate it. I mean I'm a huge fan of technology, really I am but there are some things that are just better off left simple. Why can't I dump my clothes in the machine, add detergent and press start?" she said.
"Is that a yes?" he asked hopefully.
She looked at him dubiously. Oliver Queen was asking her to help him wash his clothes? That was just a bit fishy. Didn't he have like a million maids or something?
"Please," he pleaded. "Look, I'm going to the club as soon as I get the clothes washed and dried. You can come with me," he suggested.
"You want me to go the club with you?" she asked suspiciously. She knew the club he was referring to was the famous Verdant owned by his best friend Tommy Merlyn. His social circle frequented there, plebs like her usually had to stand in a long line outside and cross their fingers to get in. She heard a few colleagues relate horror stories about never getting in even after waiting for four hours.
"In exchange for helping me with my clothes because I can't go to the club naked again," Oliver explained.
"Something tells me the women and maybe a portion of the men in the club would appreciate a naked Oliver Queen," she replied cheekily.
"No," he said emphatically. "I'll pay for all your drinks," he upped the offer.
Free drinks! Felicity liked the sound of that but she still needed to be cautious. "And all I have to do is tell you what buttons to push on the machine?" she clarified. "And by machine I mean the washing machine that cleans your clothes."
"Yes," he answered simply.
"Ok, let me just get my clothes," she winced, "I meant keys."
"Oh and I might need to borrow your detergent," he added as an afterthought.
Felicity gave him a fake smile, "Of course you do."
She closed the door, grabbed her keys and her detergent before heading back to the front where Oliver was patiently waiting for her. She followed him to his apartment. It was exactly like her own apartment so she knew where to go to find the laundry area.
"Wow that's a large pile. Is this the first time you are doing laundry since you moved in? Don't answer that, of course it is or you wouldn't be asking for help with the machine. Considering whom you are this is probably the first time you're even doing laundry in your life!"
"The machine?" he prompted her.
She walked over to the machine, "There are clothes in here already," she said perplexed.
"Well I tried to do it myself," Oliver said.
"Hmm," she mumbled reaching in and taking clothes out.
"Why are you emptying it?" he asked horrified.
"Because you overloaded it! You are not supposed to stuff as much clothes as possible into the machine. How are they supposed to get clean?" she asked.
Oliver shrugged.
Felicity looked at him and realised this was going to take a while, "Ok, step 1," she started. She spent twenty minutes explaining the washer then the dryer to him before they agreed she would meet him in front his apartment in two hours. On the way out it occurred to her that she never told him her name. She stopped and turned to face him, "I'm Felicity by the way," she said holding out her hand for him to shake.
"Oliver," he said shaking her hand, "But you already knew that. At least now you can stop calling me Mr. Queen. I hate that."
"We'll see how tonight goes Mr. Queen," she said with a teasing smirk. Oh how she loved to ruffle his feathers.
Two hours later, he watched Felicity relax into the leather seat of his Porsche, "Definitely better right?" Oliver smirked.
"It will do," Felicity said with pursed lips refusing to admit the obvious.
He pushed the button and his car roared to life.
"You know all that power under the hood but do you know how to use it?" Felicity challenged him.
Oliver turned to her with a very cocky smirk, "I know how to handle it." Challenge accepted.
He put the car into reverse and as tempted as he was to floor the accelerator he didn't. He slowly left the residential compound and started in the direction of the club. There was a long route that he could take that had a straight stretch of road that was perfect to show her just how well he could handle the car.
When he turned to take the long route, he saw her shift uncomfortably in the seat. "What club are we going to?" she asked a slight bit of fear lacing her voice.
"Relax I'm not a serial killer. We're taking the long route. There's this stretch of road..."
"Right the drag racing stretch," Felicity finished for him.
"You know about that?" he asked amazed.
"A co-worker or two are really into their cars. They like to test their performance upgrades against others," she explained.
"Have you ever raced?" he asked curiously.
"We don't know each other well enough for me to answer that question," she said to him with a smirk.
He nodded. They soon came to the stretch and Oliver floored the accelerator. She didn't even react so she definitely hadn't been bluffing. At the end of the road Oliver slowed down.
"It's passable," she stated in a bored tone.
"Just passable," he asked in disbelief. She really was crazy to think his car was just passable.
"Well that was a straight stretch of road. Do you know how to corner with her?" Felicity asked.
"You're harder to impress than any other girl I've ever met?" he replied frustrated.
"Is that what you're trying to do Mr. Queen, impress me?" she asked with a teasing glint in her eye.
"I'm trying to get you to stop calling me Mr. Queen," he responded irritated.
"Keep trying... Mr. Queen," she stated with a coy smile.
Oliver was ready to bang his head against the steering wheel. Crazy Fern Lady was just so frustrating! He decided it was probably best to remain silent until he reached the club. When they were almost there Felicity spoke up.
"Uh can we not go through the front entrance?" she asked suddenly.
"Why?" questioned her. Everyone always wanted to go through the front entrance with him.
She inclined her head towards where there was a line of paparazzi taking pictures of people entering the club, "I really don't want to be known as your flavour of the day!" she explained.
"Fine there's a back entrance," Oliver said swinging right hard and going down a side alley to a private parking lot in the back. There were no photographers there. The security guard let them in to park and he walked them to the back door.
They had just gotten through the back entrance when a voice called out, "Oi Ollie."
"Tommy," Oliver said with a small smile.
"And who is this lovely lady?" Tommy asked turning on the charm as soon as he noticed Felicity by his side.
Oliver frowned and Tommy burst out laughing.
"Oh man. You should see your faces. You both frowned at the same time. And I have some bad news for you Oliver. You have the Moira Queen look of disapproval down pat!" Tommy said slapping him on the back.
"What? I don't have my mother's disapproval look," Oliver said still frowning.
He saw Felicity peering up at him curiously. "Oh my god, he does," Felicity agreed with Tommy.
"You introduced her to your mother?" Tommy asked in surprise.
"You met my mother?" Oliver asked her at the same time.
"It was a work related thing," Felicity answered cryptically.
Oliver's curiosity was peaked. He knew she didn't work at QC and he couldn't figure out what she did that would bring her into contact with his mother.
"Let's go up to the VIP section," Tommy said preventing Oliver from continuing the conversation any further.
Oliver followed Tommy up the back staircase to the VIP area that overlooked the main dance floor below. He noticed Felicity was looking around taking everything in. He saw the usual crowd seated on the sofas and as soon as the waitress spotted him she made her way over to take their order.
Both Tommy and himself asked for the usual, whiskey neat and the waitress turned to Felicity.
"Uhm, can I see a drinks menu?" she asked uncertainly.
The waitress looked at her like she was an alien. No one in VIP ever asked for a menu. You just ordered because Tommy was supposed to have what you wanted.
Tommy laughed to ease any tension that might have formed, "Anything you ask for we have," he assured her.
"Lafite Rothschild 1982?" she asked him.
Tommy whistled, "That we don't have but I can offer you another exquisite wine from my personal collection."
Felicity accepted his offer and Tommy turned towards the waitress giving her instructions to retrieve a bottle from his office and bring two wine glasses as he would share the bottle with her since good wine should never go to waste.
"You know your wine," Oliver said to her while Tommy was busy with the waitress.
Felicity shrugged, "I like wine."
Oliver decided to cancel his order for whiskey and share the bottle with them. They sat at their usual sofa and Tommy opened the bottle when it arrived. He poured Felicity first, then Oliver then himself.
"This is good," Felicity said when she took a sip.
"No toast?" Tommy teased.
"Nothing to toast to," she replied.
"We could toast to Oliver paying for this bottle," Tommy happily suggested.
"To Oliver," Felicity said raising her glass in the air and gently knocking Tommy's.
Oliver groaned but he supposed he should be happy that she stopped calling him Mr. Queen.
"I like her," Tommy declared. "How did you two meet?"
"I'm his neighbour. I live across the pool from him," Felicity explained.
Oliver saw Tommy's eyebrows scrunch together as he was thinking. He was hoping Tommy wouldn't think too hard on it but that was wishful thinking.
"Wait you're Crazy Fern Lady!" Tommy declared pointing at Felicity in awe.
Oliver groaned. Felicity was not supposed to know he called her that.
"What?" she asked confused.
"Never mind Tommy, he never listens to anything I say properly. He's more interested in the girls and the booze," Oliver stated quickly. He really didn't want her freaking out on him here.
"Hey!" Tommy protested. "There's a lot more to me like reputed club owner."
Oliver relaxed back on the sofa with his glass and tuned out the conversation that Tommy and Felicity were having about the success of the club. He noticed a busty brunette sending him flirtatious grins. Oliver encouraged the looks and glanced to the empty spot next to him on the sofa. The girl sashayed her way across to him and sat next to him. He was vaguely aware of Felicity and Tommy leaving him alone and heading down to the dance floor.
The arrival of a girl next to Oliver who looked like she stepped straight off the cover of Vogue magazine was the signal to Felicity that she should make herself scarce. She really didn't want to get pulled too much into his life. Tommy seemed to have the same idea because he picked up the bottle of wine and she followed behind him down the stairs to the dance floor.
"I'll put the rest of this in my office where it's safe," he told her.
She nodded and she placed her empty glass by the bar and moved onto the dance floor. The music wasn't bad and the crowd was bouncing with the base. She pulled out her phone and took a selfie. She made sure the picture captured the distinctive bar Verdant had and the staircase that led up to the VIP area. She sent the picture to her co-worker Alena with the caption 'Guess where I am?'
She put the phone away and started moving to the rhythm. There were a couple showy dancers and from her experience in Vegas she knew to stay away from them. Those were the men that usually had multiple girlfriends. A few guys approached her to dance but one really caught her attention. He was taller than her, which wasn't that hard to be considering she was short, and he was lanky which she didn't mind. Muscled guys tended to be too hard headed for her.
After a few dances, they moved over to one of the tables at the side of the dance floor. He wasn't drinking because he was the designated driver but he offered to buy Felicity a drink. Tommy appeared out of nowhere with another glass of wine for her as well as a wink and then he left her alone. They struck up a good conversation. He was really sweet and respectful. She found out his name was Billy and he was a cop with the SCPD. Eventually he had to go because the guys he was with were really drunk and he had to take them home. They agreed to meet for coffee in a few days.
She returned to the dance floor and pretty soon the DJ announced it was the last dance. Felicity decided to make her way back to the VIP section to see if she had a ride home or if she had to call a cab. She wouldn't be surprised if she needed the cab. Oliver hadn't said anything about taking her back home and he seemed awfully busy with the brunette that had settled next to him.
The guards at the base of the stairs that led up to the VIP section looked at her sceptically and she had to remind them that she came down earlier with Tommy Merlyn for them to let her back up. She arrived at the top of the stairs to find Oliver arguing with a tall woman she recognised as Laurel Lance from the gossip magazines.
"Cab it is then," Felicity mumbled to herself taking out her phone.
Alena had responded and also shared the photo with their entire work group. Everyone was demanding to know how she got in. She was not going to tell them how she got in. She had just pulled up the app to request a cab when Oliver called out to her.
The brunette held Oliver's attention for all of five minutes before he got fed up with the generic lines. He politely excused himself and went to the railing to see where Tommy and Felicity had disappeared to. He spotted Tommy at the bar with a redhead and it took him a while to find Felicity in the crowd. He watched her dance with a few guys before she seemed to settle on one. Oliver didn't think much of the guy she seemed to like.
He saw them headed to a table and he called a waitress to him. He asked her to tell Tommy to take another glass of wine to Felicity. He was paying for a very expensive bottle of wine, she better drink it. As soon as Tommy put the glass in front of her she was reaching for a sip. At least she wasn't one of those floozies that made him spend money and didn't appreciate it.
A slim pair of arms wrapped around his midsection. He looked down and the rings on her fingers told him it was Laurel. Something told him his night was about to get much worse.
"Hello Ollie," she whispered in his ear.
"I thought you were angry with me Laurel," he stated moving out of her embrace. He put a little bit of distance between them and then turned to face her. She was dressed in a black halter dress that stopped at her mid thigh, showing off her long lean legs. Her hair was up in some style and it showcased her neck, a neck he liked to trail kisses along.
"What makes you think I'm not?" she asked looking him up and down and licking her lips.
"You're here at the club," he pointed out in a serious tone. He really hated playing her mind games. He never understood why she just couldn't come out and say what she wanted. He always had to guess what it was she expected from him and he usually guessed wrong.
"I came to collect my man," she said confidently. "Now take me home."
Oliver frowned, "Can't you go back home with who brought you?"
"Why would I? My boyfriend is here. I expect to go home with my boyfriend," she stated
Oliver sighed and ran his hand through his short hair, "I thought we broke up earlier on the phone. Besides I can't take you home Laurel, I'm taking Felicity home." After the words left Oliver's mouth he realised that he probably hadn't phrased that very well.
Laurel scowled and crossed her arms over her chest, "Who the fuck is Felicity?"
"Laurel calm down," Oliver said holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
"Calm down, you expect me to calm down. How am I supposed to calm down when my boyfriend said he's taking some other woman home tonight," she said angrily.
"Laurel it's not like that," he said calmly.
"Oh then how is it Ollie?" she spat at him as she tilted her head to the side.
Oliver opened his mouth to clarify but Laurel cut him off.
"Don't answer that. She's probably one of the skanks in this room that sidled up to you when I wasn't here. What'd she offer to do for you Ollie? Gosh you would think you would grow up by now and stop chasing skirts!" she yelled.
"Laurel," Oliver said this time a little bit louder.
"Don't Laurel me, just take me home," she said with narrowed eyes.
"I can't," Oliver replied. He caught sight of Felicity at the top of the stairs with her phone in her hand.
"Felicity," he called out to her hoping that when Laurel saw her she would realise how wrong she was.
Felicity looked up innocently at the same time Laurel's head swivelled in her direction. Oliver realised that was another mistake when Laurel started walking aggressively towards Felicity.
"You're the skank that Oliver's taking home tonight," she accused, her index finger pointing at Felicity's face.
Felicity blinked, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me you whore," Laurel retorted.
Oliver expected Felicity to retaliate but she did the opposite by laughing. Her eyes found Oliver, "And I'm Crazy Fern Lady."
Oliver saw Laurel's hand rise and he did his best to get there in time but the sound of the slap echoed around the room. It was then Oliver realised the music was off which meant the club was closing. Oliver placed himself between Laurel and Felicity.
"Go home Laurel," Oliver said before grabbing Felicity's hand and taking her downstairs to Tommy's office.
"Ollie if you walk away from me, it's over for good," she screamed at him.
"Then its over," he called back over his shoulder to her.
He found Tommy at the bottom of the stairs with a confused expression. "Take Laurel home," he ordered.
"What happened now?" Tommy groaned. "I really don't want to sit in a car with her and listen to everything that's wrong in your relationship. I'm not a counsellor buddy."
"Just take her home," Oliver said.
"Perhaps you should take her home. I can get a cab," Felicity said pointing to her phone.
"No absolutely not. I brought you here," his hand gently cupped her face and he turned it to see a red mark where Laurel slapped her. "Tommy has ice packs in his office. We'll get one and go."
Felicity found herself in Oliver's car with an ice park over her left cheek and Oliver apologising profusely. Video of the incident had already spread like wildfire across the social media sites. Fortunately no one had identified her yet and when she got home she was going to make sure no trace of this video was left on the web.
"Oliver stop apologising," Felicity snapped pulling the ice pack away from her cheek. "You didn't slap me."
"No I didn't but I am responsible," he insisted his eyes focused on the road as he drove them home.
"Really you told her to walk up to me and slap me?" she asked him sarcastically.
"No but…."
"Then you're not responsible. Her actions are on her," Felicity told him firmly. She put the ice pack on the dashboard.
"Hey don't take that off yet," Oliver said worried.
"Oliver it was an open hand slap. No big deal. It's not like she punched me," Felicity replied. "It just stings for a while. I'll be fine. I'm more concerned about this damn video. I hope no one identifies me."
"I',..."
"Oliver so help me if you say I'm sorry one more time, Laurel won't be the only one with computer problems tomorrow," Felicity threatened.
"Computer problems?" Oliver asked confused.
"I probably shouldn't be telling you this but for some strange reason I feel like I can trust you. Tomorrow, none, and I mean none, of Laurel's smart devices are going to be working. In fact her phone might start playing fart noises at random times during the day," Felicity said sullenly.
"How?" He glanced over at her quickly before turning back to the road.
"Because I am a tech genius," she stated proudly.
"That's why you didn't slap her back in the club?" Oliver guessed.
Felicity chuckled, "It's all about the strategy Oliver. I won't slap her back but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun at her expense," her stomach gurgled loudly. "Great," Felicity said embarrassed. "Now I'm hungry."
"At this hour, only Big Belly Burger will be open," Oliver informed her.
"You know about Big Belly Burger?" she asked surprised.
It was Oliver's turn to chuckle, "I've survived many a drunken night because of those burgers." He glanced at the time on the dashboard and sighed, "I guess another burger tonight won't kill me."
An: Thanks for reading.