May 16, 2006
Oliver
"Ollie!" called Laurel from across the room, shoving her way through the crowd and wrapping her arm around Oliver's waist as she went up onto her toes to speak into his ear in the loud room. "I've got class in the morning, so I'm leaving. Call me if you need anything, alright?" Oliver turned his head and kissed her sloppily. He was happily drunk, far too drunk to really care that his girlfriend was leaving.
"Okay," he said. "See you later." He pulled her close for a hug and then let her go, watching as she walked away in her tight jeans and heels. He sort of just stood there, not really doing much of anything as he zoned out and thought about him and Laurel. He liked having her to go to when he was otherwise alone, but was he really doing her right? He actively cheated on her on a regular basis. He was shaken out of his drunken musings by Tommy stumbling into him and nearly spilling a glass of scotch on him before righting and downing it.
"Damn, Oliver, what're you standin' over here lookin' so sappy for?" slurred Tommy, wrapping his arm over Oliver's shoulders. "You missin' your girl already?"
Oliver shoved at the off-balance Tommy before laughing. "Nah, I'm good. More shots!" he called out over the din, and everyone cheered. He got ahold of two shot glasses filled to the brim with vodka and held one out to Tommy. "To another crazy night," he said.
"To my best friend, may you never become too old to party!" cried Tommy, tapping his glass against Oliver's before knocking back the clear alcohol. Oliver grinned at his best friend before following suit and swallowing the liquid. It went down his throat like a drink of water, which he supposed meant he was getting dangerously drunk. He set his shot glass down and looked past Tommy to see Sara Lance, Laurel's younger sister, looking at him. Her blue eyes glinted with something he was fully prepared to ignore for the moment. "Hey, Ollie, let's do some body shots!" crowed Tommy, moving towards the kitchen area of the apartment that the two boys had for parties.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Oliver stumbled out of one of the bedrooms a few hours later, zipping his pants up and running a hand through his hair. Damn, that had been fun. He felt a twinge of guilt for cheating on Laurel, but he quickly dismissed it. He was Oliver Queen, and who was he to deny the girls that threw themselves at him? He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped in his driver's phone number from memory before stumbling down the hallway with the phone pressed to his ear.
Felicity
Felicity was curled up on the couch in her apartment with a glass of wine in her hand as her roommate sprawled over the armchair in the corner of the room.
"Ugh, 'Liss, this is crazy. I worked twelve hours on that code for the homepage of that site, and now Steele wants me to change it! Gah, what the hell am I supposed to do?" griped Angela, her dark hair flopping over her face. Felicity rolled her eyes at the twenty-three year old's dramatics. She only hoped that she would be as gripe-y when she was Angela's coworker in a few years. Queen Consolidated wouldn't hire her because she was under twenty one, but she had pretty much gotten a guaranteed place in their IT department when she had visited Angie one day and fixed a major virus that had the IT department scrambling around like panicked ants.
"What does he want you to change about it?" asked Felicity, turning down the volume on the reruns of "Firefly" she was watching. "Because I could help you if it's the whole thing that needs re-doing."
Angela grinned at the blonde. "I think he just wants me to tweak the menu settings and the like. But it's just frustrating because I followed his list to the tee, and now he wants to make adjustments. It's a good thing I didn't send it live before I had him review it," she said, getting up to go get herself a drink. Felicity grinned at the computer graphics artist, finishing off her glass of wine.
"Want to bring me the bottle of Red Zin in the fridge?" she called just as her cell started to ring. "Hello?" she asked tentatively, not having recognized the number.
"Jasper?" slurred a masculine voice. "C'n you pick me up from th' apartment? Mom's gonna kill me if I'm not home in th' mornin'."
"Well, I'm certainly not Jasper, and I've been drinking, so I can't really pick you up," she replied, the wine having loosened her tongue enough to joke with the drunk stranger on the other end.
"Ah, dammit. 'M sorry," he slurred. "D'ya know if you could call me a cab, cause 'm not sure I can call Jasper to gimme a ride?"
Felicity pulled her phone away from her face to give it a funny look. She put it back to her ear and said, "I don't even know your name, let alone where you are. Though you can't be far; it's a local area code. I mean, I suppose I could? But it would be totally weird, and I'm not sure if I'm that sort of weird, ya know?" She heard herself babbling and quickly clammed up. She knew she was too good of a person to strand this drunken idiot on the other end of the phone, but hesitant all the same.
The man on the other end was pouting; Felicity could hear it in his voice when he spoke next, "But then how 'm I gonna get home?"
Felicity pushed her glasses up slightly to rub at the bridge of her nose. "Fine. But you gotta tip the cabbie extra, promise?"
"Cross my heart an' hope to die."
"Alright, who and where?" Felicity gestured to Angela, who pulled out her phone and dialed Starling's cab company.
"Oliver Queen, and I'm at, ah dammit, Tommy! What's the fuckin' address?" he yelled. Felicity froze. Oliver Queen? And – oh my God, he must be talking to the Tommy who took her on a date a couple years ago. The date had been fun, but they had decided after a few weeks of talking that dating wouldn't be the best idea for the two of them.
"You've gotta be kidding me," she started laughing. "This cannot be happening again." Angela was looking at her like she was crazy.
"Again? Whaddaya mean?" asked Oliver, disgruntled as Tommy yelled from somewhere in the background.
"It's not a big deal," she gasped, out of breath from laughing so hard. "Just tell me the address so I can send the cab."
"Alright? Tommy says it's 1478 West Valley Avenue. In Starling City. Why are ya laughin' still?" Oliver sounded disgruntled.
"Just tell Tommy that Felicity Smoak says hi and wouldn't mind grabbing coffee sometime," she said. "I'm sending the cab. Get home safe." She hung up the phone and took a sip of wine, still laughing to herself.
"You want to explain why Oliver Queen just called you? And why you just asked Tommy Merlyn on a date? And why you're laughing?" asked Angela, glass of wine in hand.
"He drunk dialed me. Again," was all Felicity said.
A/N- Hi guys! I hope you enjoy this awkward chapter! I realized this chapter that I was really fudging around with Felicity's canonic age, but I don't care very much. I'm going to keep updating this on Tuesdays, but I'm also going to intersperse the week with a few one shots and maybe the start of another story, mostly in different ships and stuff. I love you all! -Rose
