Oliver goes straight to Verdant from QC and finds Tommy in his office, opening the door without bothering to knock.
"Oliver?" Tommy pushes back from his chair and stands up, squinting at him. "You're here and it's - daylight out? Who are you and what have you done with my friend Ollie?"
"You're not funny," Oliver mutters.
"I'm a little funny." Tommy leans back against his desk and grins. "Nice to see you finally join the land of the living."
"I'm living."
"Clearly." Tommy's voice is dripping with droll sarcasm. "Is there a reason you're here or did you come all the way over just to scowl at me?"
Oliver sighs and rolls his shoulders. "I want to have a party."
Tommy nods, mock serious. "I know. That's why we opened a nightclub. Every night is a party, buddy."
"No, like a - an event."
"An event?"
"A charity event?"
Tommy's eyebrows shoot up. "Excuse me?"
"I want to throw a party to raise money for that clinic in The Glades."
"The one that's on the verge of being shut down?"
He nods, hands in his pockets, watching Tommy contemplate.
"I know a guy," Tommy finally says. "Could probably get us some sponsorship. Smirnoff maybe." He walks around to his desk and picks up his iPad. "Gotta promote it obviously and we'll need a few weeks to pull everything together."
"Seriously?" Oliver asks.
Tommy shrugs. "It's a good idea. Good PR for the club, for a good cause." His eyes glaze over for a minute. "I'll talk to the staff, and you and I will have to talk numbers."
"Numbers?" Oliver asks weakly.
Tommy rolls his eyes. "Never mind, I'll recruit Laurel for that, I mean if" -
"No, it's fine, I don't mind if she helps."
There's a strange, awkward moment of tension between them, and then Tommy chuckles and slaps Oliver on the shoulder. "So, someone's suddenly hot for healthcare?"
Oliver laughs. "We are not calling it that."
"Are you kidding?" Tommy smiles dreamily. "Picture every wealthy young socialite in the city in a bikini holding out her checkbook. You, my friend, are a genius."
/
"Unplanned synchronistic meetings," Thea reads out loud from the checklist open on her laptop browser.
Oliver leans back against her headboard. Thea's room used to be decorated princess pink and white, full of stuffed animals and sparkles. Now it's decorated with dark wood furniture, a heavy plum brocade bedspread and stacks of makeup palettes on her nightstand.
It's Friday evening, the night of his date. Thea has found some article online, Ten Signs You've Met Your Soulmate, and has insisted on reading it with him, like they're two girls at a slumber party.
"Ollie?" Thea prompts, turning over her shoulder to look at him. "That's the first question."
"If running into each other all over town counts, than yes."
"So, check." Thea, sprawled out on her stomach, squints at the screen. "Connected through family, friends or work relationships, check. Increase in abnormal astronomical activity?"
"What?" he asks, scooting closer so he can see.
"Here, they list some examples. Inconsistencies in the moon cycle - okay, whoa, I didn't know that was a thing, sudden fluctuations in temperature and or/ general weather patterns, excessive rain, thunderstorms"-
"Check."
"Seriously?"
"It was raining the night we met. And um, the other day there was a - just keep going."
"Okay." Thea gives him an impish smile and scrolls down. "General feelings of warmth and well being, fondness, etc?"
Oliver swings his legs off her bed. "Okay, I think we're good here."
"Ollie" -
"I get the idea, Thea."
"And?" His sister sits up on her bed, looking so hopeful it makes him ache inside. Oliver remembers Roy, his matching mark, and makes a mental note to do something about that.
Maybe. Eventually.
"And we'll see how tonight goes."
Thea sighs dramatically and flops over onto her back. "You're so lucky. I wish I was going on a date with my soulmate."
"Oh, you never know," Oliver says lightly. "You could meet him tomorrow."
"Sure," she says wryly. "Trust me, I know every guy at my school and none of them are candidates."
There's something he doesn't really like in her voice, some kind of exhausted undertone, that makes her sound older than she really is. Oliver leans against her doorframe. "You on your own tonight?"
Thea nods, pulling a hairband off her wrist to secure her long curls into a ponytail. "Mom and Walter are going to that benefit."
"You going to be okay here by yourself?"
Thea rolls her eyes and chucks a throw pillow at him. "Go get dressed, you're going to be late."
/
As per their previous arrangement, Felicity meets Oliver at Freccia, a little Italian place he likes because it's upscale but too small to be loud or crowded. He drives his Ducati there, parks on the street and unzips his motorcycle jacket as he enters the restaurant and checks in for their reservation. Felicity enters only a moment later, resplendent in a red cocktail dress, no glasses tonight, her hair falling in soft golden waves over her shoulders.
"Hi," he says, stepping forward to take her coat, a soft silky knit black thing. "You look beautiful."
Felicity smiles, pleased. "Thank you, so do you. I mean, not beautiful, you're a man, although you really are, but. Handsome! You look very handsome."
"Sir?" The hostess, a painfully thin blond with a sleek ponytail, smiles tentatively at him. "Your table is ready."
He and Felicity follow her to their table on the far side of the dining room, his hand low on Felicity's back. He can feel the heat of her skin through the fabric of her dress and Oliver thinks of that silly checklist, general feelings of warmth and wellbeing.
Is that the reason why he feels like this, when he's around her? Because she's his soulmate?
Does that mean she feels the same way about him?
Oliver pulls Felicity's chair out for her almost automatically, silently working through the mind-shattering revelation that it could be possible for someone - okay not just someone, some faceless girl, but her, Felicity - to feel that way about him.
A waitress comes and they both ask a little too quickly for wine when it's offered. Awkward laughter ensues, the waitress comes back with a nice Cabernet and suddenly they're on familiar ground again. Alcohol, always a lovely icebreaker.
They're both clearly nervous but while Oliver gets nearly silent when he's nervous Felicity babbles, so they're well balanced in that sense. Everything feels heightened to him: the gold color of her hair in the candlelight, the warmth in his stomach, that specific first date apprehension, the awareness that this is a litmus test of sorts for both of them.
When their waitress returns Oliver orders from the menu at near random, entranced at the way shadows from the light flicker over Felicity's creamy skin. He gets a few questions in while she dips a wedge of perfectly toasted sourdough in olive oil and is rewarded with a cascade of information, delivered in quick little bursts between bites of bread.
Oliver learns that she is originally from Las Vegas. She's an only child and grew up with her mother, a cocktail waitress, attended MIT on a combination of scholarships and student loans. He probes gently for more information about her family but all he gets is a strained sense of affection for her mother before she starts tossing questions back at him.
At some point they settle comfortably into banter as their pasta arrives. Oliver lets her carry the conversation as they eat, cataloging all the body parts he can see that her red dress is revealing: her shoulders, the top of her chest, her arms, her legs, so much skin exposed by that little dress, all of it flawless and unmarked.
The whole thing goes by too quickly. One minute he's twirling fettuccine around his fork, the next their empty plates are being cleared and the check presented. Oliver pays of course, mentally daring Felicity to challenge him but she just smiles and strokes the back of his hand as he signs the receipt. They walk back through the restaurant with her hand in his, her palm warm and dry against his skin.
The hostess appears with Felicity's coat and Oliver makes a grab for it just so he can have the pleasure of sliding the fabric over her shoulders, covertly scanning her exposed back to look for her mark but all he sees is the long line of her spine. His phone buzzes in his pants pocket, Oliver pulls it out and when he sees the name Mom flash across the screen he sends her to voicemail.
"Everything okay?" Felicity asks lightly.
"Just my mom," he explains. "Do you want to go get a drink? There's a great little bar down the street."
"Sure," she says, at the same time his phone starts buzzing again. Felicity laughs softly, fingers toying with the collar of her coat. "It's fine, answer it. My mom completely panics when I don't pick up, and I'm sure after everything you've been through..." Felicity trails off, her cheeks flushing.
Oliver sighs, flashes her a tight smile as he takes his phone back out and holds it up to his ear. "Hey Mom, this isn't a great time" -
"Oliver, your sister's been in an accident."
He stumbles over nothing, reaching out blindly to press his hand against the wall. "What are you talking about, what kind of accident?"
"Apparently Thea was driving under the influence and crashed her car," she says hysterically. "The doctors said she took some kind of street drug for god's sake!"
"Are you at the hospital?"
"Of course we're at the hospital, are you even listening to me?"
"Is she hurt?"
"I don't know darling, they said she lost consciousness and the car spun out, we haven't seen her yet."
Out of the corner of his eye he can see Felicity, concern all over her face. "Mom, I'm sure she'll be okay, I'm on my way."
He hangs up, blinking back a sudden wave of dizziness. "Um, so my sister was in a car accident, I have to go to the hospital."
Felicity just nods sharply, reaching into her purse to take out her car keys while gripping his wrist with her free hand. "Come on, I'll drive you."
Some detached part of him marvels at her ability to take charge during a crises as he follows her dumbly out of the restaurant, lets her lead him down the street to a parked Mini Cooper. Oliver folds himself into the passenger seat, moving it back as far as it will allow so his legs aren't bent in half. Felicity signals and peels away from the curb, quickly turning down the blast of music blaring through the speakers.
"Are you okay?" Felicity reaches over the gear shift to curl her hand around his.
Oliver nods and strokes the inside of her palm with his thumb. "She's only seventeen."
Felicity exhales sharply through her nose and drives faster.
When they get to the hospital she drives around the entrance to the visitors' lot and parks, opens her door and gets out before Oliver even has his seatbelt off. He runs around the car and she weaves her fingers around his automatically, like she doesn't even realize she's doing it, her heels clacking against the cement floor of the garage as they cross to the entrance of the hospital.
When they get to the wing where Thea is he sees his mother, dressed in a heavy beaded evening gown, and Walter, in a chic black tailored suit, from all the way down the hall, hovering outside what he assumes is Thea's room. Felicity hesitates next to him, pulling her hand out of his grasp.
"I should let you be with your family," she says softly.
Oliver nods, numb, torn in two directions - his sister, injured and down the hall, and Felicity, here, right in front of him, soft and sympathetic in the fluorescent light of the hospital hallway.
"Thank you for dinner," she says kindly. "I had a good time, before the, you know..." she trails off, gesturing with one hand.
"I'll call you?" he offers quietly, aware that his mother is staring at them from where she is pacing back and forth.
"Okay." Felicity leans in quickly and kisses his cheek. "I hope your sister is alright."
"Thanks." Oliver smiles tightly at her. "I'm sorry, this isn't exactly how I planned on tonight going."
Felicity shrugs lightly. "Shit happens, right?"
"Right."
"Okay." Felicity steps back, car keys dangling from one hand. "Goodnight Oliver."
She gets three steps away before he reaches out to grab her wrist, spins her back to him, and kisses her.
He doesn't even think about it, just threads one hand through her hair to cup the back of her head and pushes his lips against hers. Her mouth is warm, she tastes like lipstick and wine, lips parting softly against his. The warm glow is back, seeping into all his muscles, everything going still except for the steady pressure of his mouth on hers.
She pulls away slowly, blue eyes wide and dazed, fingertips going up to her lips like she can't believe his lips touched her there only seconds ago.
Oliver smiles, unbelievably pleased with himself all of a sudden. "Goodnight Felicity."
He watches her walk away, eyes lingering on her back until she disappears around the corner. Down the hall his mother is waiting with her arms crossed, lips pressed tightly together. Walter is next to her, glancing down at his phone before pocketing it and holding a hand out to Oliver.
"Was that Felicity I just saw?" he asks curiously, peering over Oliver's shoulder.
"Yeah, we were just, uh, catching dinner together; she gave me a ride." He moves around Walter to lean in and kiss his mother's cheek. "Hey Mom, how is she?"
His mother sniffs delicately. "Apparently one of her friends shared some drug with her and Thea thought she was fine to drive. She has three stitches in her forehead, a totaled car, and she's been charged with driving under the influence" - she breaks off, a trembling hand coming up to her mouth.
"Hey Mom it's okay, she'll be okay. Remember all the dumb stuff I did when I was her age?"
His mother lets out a choked laugh and pats his cheek. "Yes darling, you certainly were a handful but even so, you were never charged with a crime."
"Call Laurel," Oliver suggests. "I'm sure she'd be willing to help you out."
She nods, reaching up to delicately pat under her eyes. "I just don't know what I'm going to do about her."
"Why don't you go get a cup of coffee?" he suggest gently. "I'll go talk to her."
His mother nods, giving his cheek a final squeeze. "Thank you sweetheart."
Thea's curled up on her side on the bed in her hospital room, wearing an ugly green gown. She has gauze taped over her left eyebrow and there's an IV inserted in the back of her hand. She looks so small, fragile, and there's a sudden ache in Oliver's chest as he remembers what a little baby she was, how he was so afraid the first time he held her, worried he'd accidentally hurt her.
"Hey," he says softly, walking forward to sit at the edge of her bed. "How are you feeling?"
She sniffs and shrugs, eyes staring blankly at the wall. "I'm fine, Ollie."
"I wouldn't call getting high and totaling your car fine, Speedy."
She glares at him before crossing her arms and rolling over. "I already got a lecture from Mom, I don't need one from you too."
He sighs, curling his hand around her ankle. "I didn't come here to lecture you."
"Whatever," she mumbles. "It was stupid, I get it."
"Yeah, it was really freaking stupid," he says hotly, something in his jaw twitching. "You could've gotten seriously hurt, do you have any idea how lucky you are?"
She stares at him, her eyes wide and bloodshot. "Lucky?" she says hoarsely. "Oh yeah, I'm so lucky."
"Thea" -
"You don't even get it." Thea's face crumples and she starts to cry. "I didn't - I didn't think anything would happen, I didn't think Mom would even notice."
His fingers tighten around her ankle. "What are you taking about?"
His sister covers her face with her hands, her words coming out in muffled sobs. "You don't understand what it's like... what it's been like. When you and Dad... it was like time just stopped, and all of a sudden we were just alone and it was like... it was like I didn't even exist without you. She never... she never notices me unless I'm messing up. I'm always messing up and now Mom hates me, I know she does"-
"Hey, hey, okay." He slides one arm under her shoulders to pull her up so he can hug her. "No one hates you."
"You don't see the way she looks at me sometimes." She pushes her tear-stained cheek against the side of his neck like she's trying to burrow into him.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about." The fingers of her right hand are stroking her mark where it covers the entire span of her left inner wrist. "Like - like there's something wrong with me."
"Thea."
"It's true," she whispers. "You know it's true."
The thing is, he does know what she's talking about. He's seen it before, that strange look on his mother's face when she's watching her only daughter. Sometimes Thea will do something, like laugh a certain way, or make a silly dramatic entrance into a room, or smile slyly, winking, and their mother's hands will fly up to her mouth to muffle a gasp, a mixture of sadness, shock, and fear flashing across as her face.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I'm sorry I wasn't there but I'm here now."
She shudders and rubs her forehead against his shoulder. "That doesn't magically fix everything."
"I know." He sighs and rests his cheek on the top of her head. "It's going to be okay. We'll figure it out."
"I missed you so much," she whispers in a tiny voice, curling her knees in against his chest like she's trying to make herself as small as possible.
He swallows thickly and tightens his arms around her because he's her big brother and that's his job, to protect her from the rest of the world, keep her safe. "I missed you too."
Their mother stays at the hospital with Thea until she gets released, Walter drops Oliver back off at Freccia to recover his Ducati. He waits until he's back in his room, reclining back in his bed in a pair of grey Emporio Armani boxer briefs, to pull his phone out and call Felicity.
She answers after only a few rings, like she's been waiting for his call.
"Hey you," she says warmly, her voice soft and low. Oliver imagines her in bed wearing a silk chemise, or an old MIT tee shirt, or maybe even nothing at all, just her skin against the sheets.
"Hey," he whispers back, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down on the pillow next to him.
"How's your sister?"
There's something intimate about this, listening to Felicity talk to him while he's in bed. Oliver twists up to turn off his bedside lamp and reclines back against the pillows, the light from his phone glowing in the dark room.
"She'll be okay but the car wasn't so lucky," he tells her.
"Cars are replaceable," Felicity murmurs. "Sisters, not so much."
"True," he agrees. "I'm sorry, that really wasn't how I wanted our date to end."
"Oh, I don't know." Her voice is light and playful. "I thought the ending was pretty great."
Oliver sinks down under the comforter, lips tingling at the memory. "Yeah?"
"Definitely."
Warmth blooms in his chest. "I was thinking... we didn't end up getting that drink."
"Are you asking me on a second date, Oliver?"
"I have to go to Verdant tomorrow night, just to run over a few things with Tommy. I could come by your place when I'm done?"
He wonders for a second if he's being too bold, inviting himself over like that, but then she says, "I'd like that." Just like that.
"I'll bring drinks," he offers.
"I'll be waiting."
Oliver smiles to himself, imagining her sprawled out on her couch waiting for him in a dress or even better, maybe one of those long tee shirts and no bra. "So I'll see you tomorrow night then?"
She's not here but he can feel her anyway, can feel her smile through the phone when she says, "It's a date."