"Ms. Smoak?"
"Hold on a minute, Jerry," Felicity said. Her eyes were still glued to her computer as her fingers raced the clock, trying to finish composing one last email.
"Ms. Smoak, you told me to warn you when it was six-thirty, because you absolutely had to be finished by the time Mr. Queen got here," he reminded her.
"I'm aware of that fact," she snapped. "I just — "
"You also told me that under no circumstances am I allowed to let you work on anything past 6:30 and that I have your express permission to physically drag you out of here if I have to."
"I know, but — "
"Mr. Queen also told me that I had his permission to call down to IT to have the WiFi disabled to your office."
That caught Felicity's attention. She looked up from her computer, her jaw open in horror. "He did not."
Jerry nodded solemnly. "He gave me the code and everything."
Felicity grumbled something under her breath about getting a new assistant. It was far too horrifying to think of her boyfriend and assistant being in cahoots with one another.
With a sigh and a glare leveled at her assistant, she stood from her chair and grabbed her tablet and her phone. "Fine, then," she said icily. "I'll just finish this email Monday morning."
Jerry kept his expression smooth as he nodded. "Sounds like a good idea, ma'am."
Felicity strode out of her office and waved goodbye to her assistant before she ran down the flight of stairs and out the front doors where Oliver was waiting for her, leaning casually against his car, his arms crossed over his chest.
Her lips automatically turned upward at the sight of him, and he returned the expression.
"I was two seconds away from going up there and dragging you from the computer," he teased as she walked forward to greet him with a kiss.
She rolled her eyes before pushing to her tiptoes to peck him on the mouth. "You didn't have to. Jerry would have done it for you."
Oliver grinned. "I knew he was the right guy for the job."
Felicity shook her head. "The more I think about it, the more I think you hired him to help you out instead of to be my assistant."
"Why can't he be both?" he asked innocently.
The two of them climbed into the car and she immediately whipped out her tablet to finish the email she started earlier.
"Felicity," Oliver started warningly.
"It's just one last email, I promise!" she protested, her fingers flying over the touchscreen. In record time, she finished composing it and hit the little send arrow before he could reach over and take it from her.
"There, done," she declared as she pressed the lock screen and stowed it away. "That's the last work-related thing I will do for the rest of the weekend, I swear."
Oliver nodded. "You're right, it will be. Because where we're going, there won't be any WiFi or cellular signal for miles."
Felicity groaned. Next to not knowing the location of their secret getaway anniversary celebration, the lack of Internet connection was possibly the worst thing she could imagine.
"And you still won't tell me where we're going?" she whined.
"Nope," he grinned. "Think of it like a trust exercise."
She grumbled a little under her breath, but otherwise said nothing. In the three years she had dated Oliver Queen, she knew when to push and when to let go. This definitely fell in the latter category.
After fifteen minutes of driving, they arrived at the airport. A valet stepped forward to open Felicity's door for her, while another one walked around to the trunk to grab their suitcases. Then, after a detour through the busy airport, they boarded the Queens' private jet, where an accommodating flight attendant greeted them with a tray of champagne flutes.
Once they were settled in seats opposite one another, Oliver raised his glass in Felicity's direction, a gentle smile on his face. "To the start of our anniversary celebration," he toasted.
Felicity smiled back and clinked her glass against his. "Wherever it is."
The plane took off a few minutes later. She took a peek out the window as she sipped on her bubbly. Her mind started to drift, wondering about a million different things like where their getaway was supposedly located to all the things she had on her to-do list once she came back to work on Monday.
As she was musing these things, Oliver spoke up.
"Do you remember that time I ran into you in Central City all those years ago?" he said.
She snorted, turning back to her boyfriend. "How could I forget? That was the same trip in which you proclaimed your love for me. To disastrous results."
He laughed. "Right, but do you remember how I ran into you at that little cafe with my mother?"
She nodded. In the three years since Felicity had dated Oliver, Moira Queen had slowly but surely grown to really like her son's girlfriend. They even had semi-regular lunch dates in which they talked a lot of business. That might not have seemed like a lot to some people, but to Moira Queen, business was basically her love language.
"You know what my mother said after she met you?"
"What?"
He smiled fondly. "She said, 'If she's half as smart as you say she is, then you'd be a fool to let that one go.' She's half the reason I sprung my confession on you when I did."
Felicity laughed, then reached across the little table between them to squeeze his hand. "Oh yeah?" she teased. "What was the other half?"
He shook his head. "Later," he promised. "I'll tell you later."
Perhaps one of the biggest surprises in dating Oliver was his tendency toward dramatic flair, and in that fashion, he tied a blindfold around Felicity's eyes once they got off the plane. Then he led her into a car and they drove for a few more minutes until they finally came to a stop.
Once Oliver had helped her out of the car, they took a few tentative steps forward together. Just when Felicity was about to rip the blindfold off of herself in frustration, they came to a stop.
"All right," he said softly in her ear before ripping the cloth off her eyes. "We're here."
She blinked a couple of times as her eyes adjusted to the slight darkness.
Then she recognized where they were: it was none other than the Netherfield Beach House.
"You flew us out to Hertfordshire?" she asked in confusion.
He shrugged, a slight grin on his face. "It was where we met," he reminded her. "It seemed like an appropriate place to hold an anniversary celebration."
She rolled her eyes, but the expression held no animosity. "I know my hometown is pretty small, but there is cellular signal and WiFi out here," she teased. "In fact, I'm certain I'm responsible for setting up ninety-five percent of the wireless routers in this town."
"Well I might have bent the truth a little to encourage you to stay in the present of our celebration," he shrugged.
Together, they grabbed their suitcases out of the trunk of the rental car and entered the house. They dropped off the bags in their normal room, and Felicity went to the restroom to freshen up.
Oliver knocked a few seconds later. "Meet me downstairs on the beach when you're finished," he called through the door.
"OK," she answered.
Quickly, she combed through her hair to get the plane-borne frizziness out of her blonde strands. Then she dusted a little bit of powder on her nose and changed out of her work clothes into a pale green sundress she knew Oliver loved.
Once downstairs, she walked out the back entrance that led out to the private spot of beach that served as the backyard. What she saw when she got there took her breath away.
Oliver had turned the space into a seaside bistro. There was a small, white-topped tent that sheltered a patio table planted in the sand with two wicker chairs on either side. A row of tiki torches lined the space behind the chairs, just outside the tent, keeping the bugs and mosquitos away. And along the top of the tent, between the poles, a string of twinkle lights hung over them, adding to the glow of the torches and the tall candlesticks in the middle of the table.
"Oh my God, Oliver," Felicity breathed as she took in the whole, beautiful scene. "This is beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you," he said, reaching for her hands. She placed them in his and he pulled her gently forward to press a kiss against her temple. "Happy third anniversary, Felicity."
She beamed up at him, then stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was a slow, languid kiss — the kind that meant they had all the time in the world for each other.
When they had pulled apart, the each took their seats and a few minutes later, one of the contracted housekeepers came out of the house and onto the beach with a tray. Once she got to the table, she set a plate down in front of them: two neatly laid out tacos filled with pineapple mango salsa and bright pink shrimp on a bed of red cabbage.
Felicity's face broke out into a smile. "Are these from The Place?"
"Yeah," Oliver grinned. "It was what you ordered on our first date. When you still hated me."
She giggled. "I can't believe you remember."
"I remember every moment I've spent with you," he answered.
As the meal went on, Oliver took Felicity on a journey through all the high points of their relationship.
The second course was the mushroom and pesto linguini they ate on the first night they slept together.
"I was so nervous about what would happen later that I hardly tasted any of my food," he recalled.
The third course was the sweet corn chowder from the same dinner Oliver asked her to move in with him.
"You wore that beautiful, blue, low-cut number that made me want to skip dinner altogether," he said, his eyes twinkling with the memory.
The third course was a thin slice of brisket and the latkes from their first joint Christmas/Hannukah.
"I spent three days ahead of time trying to work on my latke recipe in secret so I could surprise you," he told her. "I must have gone through three pounds of potatoes. Thea was so sick of latkes by the time I finally got it right."
With each delicious bite, Felicity relieved all of the high points of their relationship. She savored the entire meal on both a visceral and nostalgic level as Oliver narrated each course. By the end of it she was so full, both with food and with love.
"This is incredible," she gushed by the time the housekeeper took away the last plates. "This entire meal, everything about it...Oliver, I can't believe it."
"It's not over yet," he said, his eyes twinkling.
She shook her head. "Darling, I'm so full I feel like I'm about to burst."
"Well I'm really hope you'll at least have a bite of this last course," he said as the housekeeper came back with one last tray. She lifted the lid to reveal two crystal glasses filled with creamy panna cotta and topped with a silky smooth strawberry puree.
"Oooh," Felicity intoned. "This looks incredible." She dipped her spoon into the dessert and slipped it into her mouth. The panna cotta dissolved almost the instant it touched her tongue and she closed her eyes in pure ecstasy.
"Holy crap, this is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," she sighed. Despite how full she said she was just seconds ago, she found herself spooning another bite.
"I'm glad," Oliver answered warmly. His panna cotta remained untouched in front of him, content just to watch her for the time being.
"So what's this one from?" she asked. "I don't remember this, and believe me, I would have definitely remembered something this heavenly."
"We haven't had this before," he answered. "I'm hoping that this will become a new, cherished memory."
Felicity poked her spoon once more into her dessert, but instead of cutting through the silken cream, the metal hit something hard — almost metallic. With a slight frown, she dug a little until she fished something small out of the glass.
Using her fingers, she sifted off the cream and strawberry puree. Then her heart skipped a beat when she saw something sparkle in the candlelight.
"Oh my God," she whispered, her eyes widening. "Oh my God."
In one quick, fluid movement, Oliver stood from his seat and knelt in the sand next to her. He took her hand in his and she brought her eyes up to stare into his brilliant blue irises.
"Felicity Smoak," he began, his voice heavy and wavering with emotion, "these past three years have been the most incredible years of my entire life. And that is all because of you."
She felt her throat well up, making it completely impossible for her to speak, but it hardly mattered — she was far too stunned to be able to form a coherent sentence.
"I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are the woman for me," he declared. "Will you do me the immense honor of marrying me?"
The tears Felicity didn't even realize had formed broke through and started streaming down her face.
Instead of answering, she leaned forward and kissed him. Hard.
She could barely believe it. Here was this incredible man, bent down on one knee after constructing the most beautiful meal she'd ever experienced, all to build up to asking her to spend the rest of her life with him.
Felicity Smoak felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
When she finally pulled away, she pressed her forehead against his. "Yes," she sobbed, her voice wavering with emotion. "Yes, yes, yes!"
Oliver's mouth turned up into the most heartbreaking smile, and he kissed her again. It was a kiss of triumph, like he had won as opposed to the other way around.
"By the way, I don't expect you to change your name or anything," he grinned. "Not for me."
She smiled at him. He knew her so well.
"I don't know," she teased. "I think I could get used to being called a Queen."
He pressed another soft kiss to her lips.
"You're my queen," he promised. "You'll always be my queen."