The dance committee had put a lot of work into junior prom, at least compared to the effort they put into the dance back in February. The ballroom of the Bennett Hotel was decorated in white, blue and silver, the ceiling covered in constellations to go with the "Starry Night" theme. The evening was well under way by the time Oliver and Laurel arrived. Teenagers and chaperones alike crowded the dance floor, each moving with varying degrees of rhythm and coordination to Apollo 440's "Stop the Rock."

Laurel was definitely the hottest girl in the room. Her hair was piled in an elegant updo and her dark blue, floor-length gown showed off her curves. Actually, she could've shown up in sweats and a messy bun and still beat all these bitches. Hands down, she was the most beautiful woman Oliver had ever met, and her great personality made her even prettier.

After leaving her purse on one of the tables, Laurel led Oliver to the dance floor, where he did his best to not look like an uncoordinated dork; swaying back and forth to a slow song was easy, but real dancing was not one of his talents.

Eventually he caught her looking curiously over at one of the tables.

"Wow," she mouthed in surprise, smiling. Then she waved at whoever she was looking at. Oliver followed her line of sight and noticed a girl sitting alone, her purse in her lap. Her blonde hair was in soft curls, framing her pretty face. The emerald green of her dress complemented—

Woah woah woah. Hold up. That… Nah, that wasn't her. Couldn't be. Like she'd brave another dance after that last one ended in disaster.

"Who are you waving to?" Oliver asked, fighting to be heard over the music.

"Remember that girl who said you were her date?"

"Felicia Something?"

"Felicity Smoak. I'm so happy she came!" Laurel smiled in her direction again. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

"Who did she come with?"

Laurel shrugged. "I guess she's here by herself."

"Big surprise,"

"Hey, be nice," She put her hand on his arm. "I told you what's been going on with her at school."

"Then why is she here? Shouldn't she be avoiding these people when she can?" If Karla and her henchmen attacked her again…

"It's prom, Ollie! Nobody skips prom if they can help it."

"Even if it means sitting alone all night?"

Laurel crossed her arms and thought for a moment. Then she grinned. "She won't have to. Not the whole night."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I think it'd be really sweet if you danced with her."

"What?!"

"Just one song! Please? I'm sure it'd mean a lot to her. Ollie, she's such a nice girl and she doesn't deserve all this crap they've been putting her through. Even if she did lie, I'm sure it was because she felt lonely—"

"Fine!" He raised his hands in defeat. "If it means that much to you, I'll go dance with her."

Beaming, Laurel kissed his cheek. "Thank you! I'll dance with my friends until you get back."

Oliver looked reluctant as he walked to Felicity's table, but he was celebrating on the inside. He was ecstatic when Laurel made the suggestion, but he knew he couldn't seem too eager. Because he really shouldn't be eager. It was Felicity, and she wasn't the kind of girl a guy like him should be eager to dance with. Yet his palms were sweaty and his heart was racing as he approached her. She could turn him down. She might, even though he was Oliver Queen. Was he hoping for that? Not really. It wasn't an ego thing, either. He really wanted to dance with her, as stupid as that was. Oliver Queen wanted to dance with a geek. True, she didn't look like a geek right now, but she definitely was one. And Laurel wasn't. Not even close. He should get this over with and rush back to her.

"Hey," he said, taking the seat to her right.

Felicity gaped at him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hi. Um… You look very handsome."

"Don't I always?"

She giggled, and he could feel the tension between them fading. "You know Laurel's over there, right?"

"Yep. She told me I should hang out with you for a little while."

"Really?" Her fingers moved to adjust her glasses, then realized they weren't there. "Why?"

"Do you not want me around?"

"Well, no… I mean yes, but—"

"Are you here alone?"

"Um…" She bit her lip. "Well, yeah, obviously. But my parents said I should go because it's prom. I think I'll be fine if I just stay here. It's actually pretty fun to just watch everyone."

Oliver laughed. "Felicity, that's not what you're supposed to do at prom."

"It's better than getting out there and making myself a target."

He gave her his most charming smile. "Then I'll protect you."

She didn't answer, only blushed adorably.

"Dance with me."

"Y-you're insane," she eventually said. "They'll eat us alive. They'll eat you alive! This could be like social suicide for you! They're going to laugh at us."

No Doubt's "Underneath It All" started playing, a song Oliver knew they could slow dance to.

"Screw 'em." He stood up and offered her his hand. "I'm Oliver Queen, remember? I do what I want."

It seemed she couldn't argue with that. Felicity took his proffered hand and sheepishly followed him to the dance floor. His hands went to her waist and hers to his shoulders, and then they were swaying to the music.

"Do you like me?" Oliver blurted.

Felicity gulped. "In what way?"

"In any way."

"I… think you're a tolerable human being."

He chuckled. "I guess that's something."

"Of course I like you, Ollie. What kind of question is that?"

"A good one,"

She sighed. "In spite of your numerous character flaws, I think you're kind of wonderful."

Oliver gave her a slow smile. "Only kind of?"

Licking her lips, she smiled back. "Even though you are so full of yourself that it seems that you'll explode at any moment, sending squishy chunks of ego flying everywhere—"

"Ew,"

"—I think you're wonderful."

His hands absentmindedly slipped down to her hips. "And I find you somewhat likable."

"I give you 'wonderful' and all I get is 'somewhat likable?' You could've at least left off the modifier."

"Okay," He pulled her a tiny bit closer. "Then you're remarkable. That fits better, doesn't it?"

A tiny smile curved her lips as she looked away. "I guess so."

"Have I mentioned how pretty you look?"

Her blush came back with a vengeance. "Uh, well yeah—I mean you didn't, but I know I look different. I got to go to a salon this time. They even did my makeup. They dyed my hair, too. I'm not a real blonde. I like being blonde, though. I've been dying it at home since last year because my mom says it's better than having mousy-brown hair, and she let me get it professionally done this time. And I'm wearing contact lenses, even though I keep thinking they'll slide to the back of my eyes and get lodged in my brain or something. And my dress is from that place in the mall—"

Oliver started laughing. "Like I said, you look gorgeous."

Felicity laced her fingers behind his neck. "That's not the word you used before."

"It isn't?"

"Nope,"

"Eh, same difference."

They spent the rest of the song in comfortable silence. When it ended, Felicity tried to gently pull away, but Oliver held tight.

"Come on, one more."

The song just beginning was "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain, a song so romantic that it seemed wrong for Oliver to dance to it with anyone but Laurel. Felicity glanced around the room for his date. "I think you should go find Laurel for this one."

"Why? It's just a song. And Laurel said I had to dance with you for more than one song or she'd ignore me the whole night. I'll leave you alone after this one, I promise."

Curse his charismatic smile! Felicity thought as she put her hands on his shoulders.

This time around, she noticed the shocked stares and curious glances. They were hard to ignore, considering they meant that Oliver would be getting a lot of questions later.

"So… How was dinner with my parents?" she asked, looking for a distraction.

He smirked. "They were so nice to me that it made me feel bad." His fingers stretched around to the small of her back. "Your dad was especially polite. I'm guessing he's the one who taught you that whole turn-the-other-cheek thing that you do? 'Cause any normal person would at least deliver a few back-handed compliments to someone who's wronged them."

"He calls it 'maintaining the moral high ground.' It does wonders for my conscience, at least."

"I guess it's better than sinking to Karla's level."

"I've still thought about it, though." Felicity frowned. "In a stress-relief-fantasy kind of way."

"Well if you decide to go all 'Carrie' on her tonight, I'll want a front-row seat."

"That would be awesome," she replied with a giggle. "Awful, but awesome."

"Or maybe I should distract her while you sneak up behind her and—"

"Oliver, stop being a bad influence."

"But it's what I do best!" he responded with a pout.

"That's not something to be proud of."

"If only I were a nerd like you."

"Yeah, it's a shame you're not very smart."

Oliver put his hand over his heart in pretend agony. "That was a cheap shot."

"You kind of walked into that one. Hey, how was your birthday—"

"Aw, isn't this adorable?"

Felicity felt her blood turn to ice as she whipped her head to her right, Oliver following after. It was the Abominable Karla, Destroyer of Worlds. Her quarterback boyfriend had his arms around her, his good-looking face emotionless.

"I take it Laurel arranged this?" she continued, that predacious smile on her ruby lips. "Felicity, you are so lucky she took pity on you. We all know you're not pretty enough for a guy to willingly dance with you."

"And we all know you're born of a jackal." Oliver retorted. "Go away, Karla."

The soul-sucking hellbeast scowled, her lips puckering and twisting. Her boyfriend expertly suppressed his smile.

Felicity drew closer to Oliver and whispered in his ear. "Don't, Ollie. I'm the one who will have to deal with her on Monday."

"I'm not familiar with turning the other cheek." he mumbled back.

"Then let me give you a crash course. Lesson one: Shut up."

"What are you two whispering about?" Karla snapped.

"How insanely in love we are," Oliver quipped. "And we're considering finding a hallway to make out in."

If Karla was offended before, she was deeply insulted now. Her boyfriend looked ready to laugh, and Felicity's eyes were wide. Oliver wore his cockiest smile.

"Let's go," he said, taking Felicity's hand and leading her out of the room. They didn't dare look back, lest they burst into laughter.

They started giggling once they reached the lobby, and didn't stop until they entered an empty, nearby hallway.

"Did you see her face?" Felicity pushed her hair back and adjusted the strap of her dress as they halted. "You got her good—"

Suddenly her back was to the wall, Oliver's hands on her upper arms. She barely had a second to process what was happening before his lips were on hers.

Her legs turned to jelly and her skin broke out in goose bumps as he drew out the kiss, pulling away fractionally with a satisfying smacking sound then pressing in again. She squeaked when he darted his tongue in her mouth, sending a bolt of electricity up her spine.

Eyelids fluttering, Felicity fought to catch her breath once their lips parted.

"That definitely counted," Oliver stated, still gripping her arms. His face was so close to hers, those deep blue eyes staring into her gray-green ones.

"Mm-hm," was all she could manage in reply.

He cleared his throat. "I should um… I should get back to Laurel."

"Yeah," She frowned, feeling guilty. Her brain had refused to work when Oliver Queen was lovin' on her with his mouth, but now it was in overdrive and reminding her that his girlfriend was one of the few people who was kind to her. "Ollie, I didn't—"

"That wasn't you, that was me," His thumb rubbed at where her dusky-pink lipstick had smudged under her bottom lip. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But Laurel's been so nice to me…" she said softly.

"Felicity, that wasn't cheating—"

"Yes it was!" she whimpered.

"Hey," Oliver caressed her cheek, begging her not to cry. "When's your birthday?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Is it soon?"

"Um… Yeah, it's June first. Why?"

He gave her a comforting smile. "Happy almost birthday, then. Hell of a gift, isn't it?"

She laughed quietly. "It's right up there with a pony and a Barbie Dreamhouse."

His smile grew wider. "That's good to know. Now I have an idea of what to get you next year."

"A pony?"

"No, a Barbie Dreamhouse." Oliver smirked. "Of course a pony. I'm filthy rich, remember?"

Slowly, she put her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, her head on his dark blue tie. "Thanks, Oliver."

He hugged her back and lightly kissed the top of her head. "No problem."

She looked up at him with a stern expression. "Now you really need to get back to Laurel. Like, right now."

"You're not the boss of me," he teased.

"I'll tell your mom on you!" she warned, fighting to keep a straight face.

"I'm so scared!" he replied, each word deep-fried in sarcasm.

"I'll tell my dad."

"'K bye." he blurted as he hurried away from her. He chanced one last glimpse of her before turning the corner. Damn, that smile! Even with her braces—

What the hell was going on? Why… Why did… Just… Why?! Did he have a tumor or something? Is that why he was acting crazy? Is that why he was attracted to—NO. No, don't use that word. It wasn't attraction, it was… Uh… Aw, dammit. You know what? Just get back to Laurel, you stupid dumbass.

For Felicity, the rest of the night went by in a blur. Watching everyone else have fun was downright enjoyable. And seeing Oliver and Laurel dance together got her all dreamy-eyed. Oliver wasn't so bad, and Laurel was sure to be really good for him. And Karla's boyfriend asked her to dance, which was as crazy as it was suspicious. But he didn't put a "KICK ME" sign on her back or anything, and he told her how great it was to see Karla put in her place. It gave him the courage to finally dump her, he said. Her looks made her only so tolerable. Felicity had been wondering why she was looking so sour in the corner.

Even after Greg had stopped dancing with her, her chipper mood hadn't waned. And when her parents came to pick her up, she just sat in the back seat with a huge smile on her face, giving vague details about prom without letting them know why she was so happy.

When she got home, she rushed to her room, saying she was really tired. As soon as the door was closed, she screamed gleefully into her pillow. Then she dashed over to Kermit, who looked like a slimy lump with eyes as he crouched in the middle of the tank.

"Ohmygosh, you will not believe what happened to me tonight!"