Josh's apartment needs soundproofing. That's been true since the moment he moved in, right after earning a spot in the Star City Philharmonic Orchestra as First Violinist. After all, as lovely as his playing might be, his neighbors really don't need to be forced into hearing it in their own homes, even if none of them have complained. But it's become more true as time has passed. Just, less because of him and more because of his neighbors.

Or neighbor, really.

The first time he saw her, he walked into the mailbox. He wishes that were a metaphor or an exaggeration, but it's not. Her smile is just so bright, so open that it distracted him and he'd taken a step too many right into the giant steel bank of lockboxes. Fortunately, she hadn't noticed. Unfortunately, that turned out to be because she'd had that brilliant grin targeted at someone specific. And, yeah, the guy had been looking back at her with the exact same haze of joy and affection.

It figured.

Josh had sighed, grabbed his mail and nodded politely at the pair as he'd passed. They'd barely noticed. But that had been okay, Josh had been dealing with other things and his thoughts hadn't lingered on them long.

At least, until he'd realized they were his upstairs neighbors.

He doesn't try to overhear things, but these units really do have surprisingly thin walls given their cost, and the couple upstairs has a tendency to leave their balcony doors open. That might be because the woman - Felicity, he learns after she accidentally gets some of his mail and brings it by one day a week after he moves in - keeps trying to cook and it keeps going incredibly poorly. He'll happily put up with too many overheard conversations rather than repeated building-wide evacuations when she sets off the smoke detector in an attempt to bake.

Felicity's laugh is as bright as her smile and, okay, he can admit to being more than a little smitten with her, but he doesn't get to know her at all until one day in late fall when he's practicing the violin out on his balcony.

It's late morning and the air has just a hint of winter to it. There's been a part of the score that's been bothering him. It's okay but there's a vibrancy that's just lacking. He needs to hone that, to give it spirit, give it life. So a brisk morning fourteen floors up it is.

The first few run-throughs are fine. Most people would probably find them impressive, but Josh is a perfectionist and he expects more of himself than technically sufficient. It's when he pauses to make a few notes to himself in the sheet music that he hears a rustling from the upstairs balcony.

"I'm sorry," he calls up after a second. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Oh, no!" Felicity's voice calls back, sending a little jolt of a thrill through him. "Not at all."

He hesitates at that, not sure how to respond. "Are you sure? I know… I mean… I know you guys keep late hours sometimes. I really hope I didn't wake you."

She pauses in return and huffs out a chuckle. "Hazards of apartment living, I guess. I hope we haven't woken you up. Sometimes our jobs demand some pretty late hours."

Josh's brow furrows at that. She's a CEO and he's running for mayor. Obviously those are roles that demand a lot out of both of them, but he's not sure how it has either one getting home just before sunrise some nights. Still, it's not his business and Josh isn't about to pry.

"No," he counters before realizing that it's obviously untrue. Clearly she's woken him up on occasion, if he's aware of how late she gets in. "Well… it doesn't bother me anyhow," he clarifies. "Hazards of apartment living, like you said."

"Right…"

He's pretty sure she breathes out a sigh of relief at that.

"Are you done playing, then?" she asks after a beat. Her tone is tinged in disappointment and it makes his heart beat a little faster to realize she's enjoying his music. "Don't stop on my account."

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking up at her balcony, as if he could see straight through it and somehow have this conversation face to face. That would be nice. He'd love to actually see her appreciate his rendition of Mendelssohn's Concerto.

"You kidding?" she scoffs. "It's not every day a girl gets serenaded over morning coffee! ...uh, not that you were. I mean, you weren't playing for me. I know that. I just meant-"

"I know what you meant, Felicity," he replies, grinning to himself as he looks back down at his sheet music.

This is why he started playing. Or, at least, it's why he kept doing it after his parents had insisted on lessons when he was a kid. It isn't just about losing himself in the music. It isn't about the technical aspect of it or the challenge; it's about telling a story. It's about making people feel something. So, when he remembers that, when he finds his voice in this piece of music, the bit that had been missing before today, he knows it's largely thanks to Felicity Smoak.

Truth be told, he's beyond smitten with her after that.

Life goes crazy for a while in the months that follow, more for her than for him, but it's true for both. She gets engaged and shot on the same night, barely surviving and forever changed by her experience. He's glad to see her fiance stays at her side and he decides, largely because of the respect and unwavering affection that Oliver Queen treats her with, that the man has his vote. Josh's life goes a bit nuts shortly after that. His sister finally leaves her jerk of a husband, but that's messy too because even though she's definitely better off without him, he doesn't make the divorce proceedings easy and Josh is more than positive that his ex-brother-in-law is hiding most of his assets. He starts taking on private lessons teaching violin to kids one-on-one, in part because he's always wanted to and in part because he can use the extra cash to help his sister out.

Felicity and Oliver break up and he moves out, something that Josh is both sympathetic about and embarrassingly hopeful because of. She's sad. He can see that, but she doesn't talk about it, at least not with him… which makes sense. He's just a neighbor who plays the violin on his balcony sometimes. But he wishes he could do something to cheer her up.

Then, the whole world ends, or at least it seems like it at the time. A sizable part of Starling City caves into the earth - again - and Josh just counts himself lucky that no one he knows dies in the chaos that follows. He thinks about leaving for a bit, finding somewhere safer, but somehow this has become his home and he finds he'd rather stay.

It's resilient, his city. He respects that about it. No matter what it goes through - and it goes through a lot - it bounces back.

So does Felicity.

He's known her in passing almost a year when he starts seriously considering asking her out for coffee. She's been single for a while, but he's bad at this kind of thing and he really has no idea how long he's supposed to wait after someone breaks up with their fiance before you ask them on a date. He actually asks his sister, but she just laughs at him and tells him to go for it.

She's really no help at all. But then, she's never been an expert on relationships. Her train-wreck of a marriage to that twice-divorced journalist had been proof enough of that.

Still… he wonders if maybe she isn't right this time. After all, he'll never know if he doesn't ask, right? Yes, he resolves. He's gonna do it. He's going to ask her for coffee. God, he's nervous. That's so silly. It's just coffee, even if she says yes. That's as casual as it gets. Anxiety courses through him anyhow, his heart pounds double-time in his chest and his hands sweat even thinking about asking her out. But it could be worth it - it could be so very worth it - and something in him tells him to take a chance with her.

Tomorrow, he decides, because he's pretty sure she's not home right now - she's rarely home this early in the evening. Tomorrow he'll ask her.

At least, that's his plan right up until he hears her door shut heavily five minutes later and he hears a voice he hasn't heard except on television in months.

"God, Felicity."

Yup… that'd be the mayor. Josh's heart sinks at the man's voice and instantly all his plans fly out the window.

"Shhh," Felicity hushes. "Sofa, now. And get that shirt off, Mister."

There's a squeak from their sofa - her sofa - and a groan that Josh had absolutely hoped he would never hear from his mayor ever again. He'd voted for the guy, but come on.

"...Felicity… I don't want to get the sofa dirty."

"Would you just let me take care of you, Oliver? Forget the sofa. You picked it anyhow."

Her voice is soft and full of affection and Josh doesn't know if they're back together or if this is some vodka-fueled exes-with-benefits thing, but either way he's wondering if he has earplugs lying around.

"You don't have to help me out," Oliver counters sadly. "I can take care of it on my own."

Well, there's a mental image that makes Josh shudder, thanks for that Mr. Mayor.

"I want to," Felicity counters softly before hesitating. "Unless you don't want me touching you?"

The choked laugh that comes in response is dry and self-derisive and while Josh has no idea what the details of their breakup included, he's immediately certain that Oliver Queen had not been the one who'd left, in spite of which one of them kept the apartment.

"We both know that I do, Felicity," Oliver tells her.

A moment later, the mayor hisses and Josh finds himself wondering if she's left the balcony door open again, because it's so stupidly loud he feels like he's in the room with them and he absolutely does not want to be at all.

"But what about you? Aren't you-" Oliver starts.

"I'm fine. I'm good," Felicity cuts him off. "You took care of me earlier, remember?"

"Hon- ...Felicity," Oliver corrects himself. It's sharp enough and fast enough that it's pretty clear that was a slip and they're not officially back together at this point. So… exes with benefits it is, then. Josh sighs. She deserves better than that. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sore, Oliver," she replies. It's at this point that Josh starts digging around drawers for his best set of headphones. "That's all."

It seems like the mayor is going to say something else but instead he gasps a few times, loudly in quick succession.

"Oh, this needed attention more than I thought," Felicity tells him. "Have you been like this the whole night?"

"Since you got there," Oliver groans.

"We should talk about tonight," she tells him.

"Now?" he asks, incredulity ringing in his voice.

Josh sort of agrees with him, because wow this does not seem like the moment for a conversation of substance for them, and why can he not find anything but broken earbuds?

"You did good tonight, Oliver," she tells him, making Josh pause because he really has absolutely no idea what they're talking about at this point. "I'm proud of you, proud of us."

"We make a hell of a team," he replies through labored breaths. "We always have."

"Yeah…" she agrees a little distantly. "We have. But tonight… I don't know, it just reminded me of a lot of things. Of the start. Of why we were a team in the first place. Of why all this works and how important it is."

There's a long pause after that and Josh finds he's actually waiting to hear how the mayor responds, because this feels like a turning point. And, as much as he doesn't want to be here for this, he also can't help his curiosity.

"You've always brought out the best in me, Felicity," Oliver tells her finally. "And I'd like to think I help bring out the best in you."

"You do," she tells him quickly. "Whatever we are, you do. But..."

"But what?" he asks. There's so much nervousness in his voice, so much hesitance that it spills over and Josh feels it too.

"But… I guess I thought that would fade away," Felicity admits. "With us not… us, that somehow I'd eventually love you less, love who I am when I'm with you less. But it hasn't worked out that way."

"Good."

His voice is gritty and raw and strikingly affected. It's by far the most voyeuristic Josh has felt since this whole debacle started.

"The work you did tonight… organized crime in this city is going to have a hard time recovering from that, Mayor Queen," she tells him.

"The work we did tonight," he corrects. "And I hope so."

"You're a good mayor, Oliver," she tells him. "Maybe not the best at politics, but you care so much about this city and the people in it. That's what makes you a good mayor. And it's what makes you a good man."

"Not good enough," he says sadly.

She's quiet for a moment after that before clearing her throat. When she does finally reply, it's soft enough that Josh barely hears it.

"I'm not exactly sure about that," she says.

"Felicity…"

The way Oliver says her name is both hopeful and pained, like he wants to believe she's saying something but he's terrified to believe it, like maybe he can't take it if he's wrong.

"I don't want to talk about this right now," she tells him, sounding a touch uncomfortable even though she's the one who brought it up.

"Soon?" he asks. "Can we… I mean, will you…"

"I'll meet you for coffee," she decides. "Tomorrow afternoon at the park across from your office? If you're free that is. I don't want to assume..."

She hasn't said a time, but Josh is pretty sure that doesn't matter. There's not a doubt in his mind that the mayor would cancel absolutely anything else to meet her for coffee. So… at least someone has a coffee date with her.

"Yes," he agrees. "I'm free. Absolutely."

"Good…" she says in a rush of breath. "Good. So, um… let's take care of this and get you cleaned up. Then I need to call Thea and Katya, let them know she doesn't have to hide out at Thea's place anymore."

He moans her name and it turns into a rapid-fire series of gasps. It's right about then that Josh decides headphones just aren't gonna cut it. He needs soundproofing, but since he doesn't have that, he's going to go stay the night at his sister's.

He wants Felicity to smile. He wants to see her happy again, wearing that blinding grin that inspires music and joy. If he can't be the one making her that joyful, that's fine, but he can't possibly sit around and listen to her indulging in a night with her ex and making plans that clearly start them down the road to coupledom once again.

Grabbing his wallet and keys, Josh heads out the door, locking it behind him and heading toward the elevator, away from the sound of the mayor moaning his crush's name.

Tomorrow, he decides. He calls for a quote to soundproof his apartment tomorrow.