Felicity sighed, clutched her laptop to her and pressed L for the lobby. Of course there was only one hotel in town. Of course the website had promised wifi. Of course it barely worked. She felt powerless and thoroughly unprepared. If this was country life, it was not for her.
Two floors down the elevator dinged and the tall man from the lobby entered, a laptop in his hands, and a pained expression on his face. The doors shut and she glanced at him sideways.
"There's a cafe," he said. "It works in there."
"Oh, thanks," she said.
When the elevator opened she wondered briefly if they would walk together, though it seemed absurd because she didn't even know he was. Instead she let him lead and awkwardly they entered the cafe, empty due to the late hour. A rather pretty woman smiled at them, "you two take any table you want. Kitchen's closed but there's coffee, cobbler, and donuts."
"Oh, we're not-" The man offered and then let the words fall out as the woman disappeared behind a screen. She watched him walk to a corner booth and then took a table nearby. He immediately set to work, spreading out papers and his laptop. Felicity did the same. Shortly after the waitress came by, filled the coffee cup, and gave her a piece of apple cobbler, "house specialty," she said before she did the same for the man. Felicity pushed the cobbler away and took a sip of her coffee, watching as the little fan of half-circles blinked grey and then black. A full signal.
"Yes," she said, actively not doing a fist pump, and brought up her browser. The Google homepage popped up in bright, beautiful color. Felicity went to the search bar and typed: Dean Winchester, sneaking another glance at the man who was now studying the apple cobbler, his face appearing almost ghoulish in the laptop light.
Sam wasn't sure what he expected when he typed in the words "Felicity Smoak" in the search bar. He had seen Castiel identify with certain people but most of them turned out to be vessels. He didn't expect her to be a vessel, however he didn't expect what he found either: The girl was a genius.
The first article was about her coming in second in the National Information Technology competition. At 19. Sam leaned back and glanced again at Felicity, whose face was now mostly obscured by the shell of her laptop. "Felicity Smoak is a student at MIT where she specializes in computer security."
The second article was an article about innovations in cyber security ideas coming from MIT graduate students. Felicity was quoted several times and mentioned for her ideas on software integration. Sam put the dates together and realized Felicity had gone to school early, really early. He wondered if Ash knew her. He'd have to ask.
The third was an article from TMZ. "CEO Oliver Queen announces Cash for Guns initiative." Sam clicked on the picture and there was Oliver Queen smiling. Behind him, cut out of half the frame was Felicity. He looked to the bottom of the picture. "Also pictured: Oliver Queen's executive assistant Felicity Smoak." That's how he knows him. It's Oliver Queen.
Sam clicked out of the article, ready to move on to more important matters at hand. The mystery was solved: Felicity is Oliver's over-qualified assistant and they're here for some business. He goes to click out of the screen but accidentally drags the window instead. There, ninth down, is the line "Starling Citizen Saved by Hood." Sam clicked open the article, it's a small article, no bigger than a paragraph.
"Felicity Smoak was rescued by Starling City's hooded vigilante last night. Ms. Smoak was working late in the Queen Consolidated offices when she was attacked by an armed drug dealer. It is unknown why the dealer had targeted QC and Ms. Smoak. However it appears that the Hood had been following the dealer as he was able to rescue Ms. Smoak."
Sam clicked back to the search bar, looking for more articles. He searches again, this time with the words 'drug dealer' but nothing comes up. There's only the one and when he looks at the publication, it's a small newspaper. He's used to what should be big news being made a blip on the internet, he's just not used to it not involving him or Dean. Sam looks back at Felicity only to see Oliver enter and slide into the booth across from her. She moves her laptop away and leans in, speaking to him softly. Oliver reaches out and takes the piece of apple cobbler that's sat untouched on her table, eating a spoonful as he nods at her. There was that thing on that Reddit board: the Oliver Queen theory. Sam had disregarded it because the police had already released him. There's also the very popular theory that the Arrow had partners, more than just the one in red, someone behind the scenes who knew enough about technology to make sure certain things like him appearing on security cameras never happened. Now, as he watched what did not like an executive assistant talking to her boss but rather two people who knew each well enough to just be openly staring at each other, in a town where rich hydro executives were dying by arrows, he felt his heart pump excitedly. It's the Arrow. This isn't a ghost. It's the Arrow.
"We have a problem," Felicity said in lieu of a greeting as Oliver slides into the booth across from her. "Yes, you can eat the cobbler."
"What's the problem?" Oliver asked, digging into the cobbler.
"Those guys, the really really good-looking ones, they're some sort of ghost-demon-hunting group. And they're good at what they do. Like really good."
"They're ghostbusters?"
Felicity smiles, "two movie references in one day! My heart is actually swelling... not important. I don't know. It's weird, like super weird. I mean, I thought some of the ones we went up against were weird but this... this is a whole new level of weird."
"Slow down, tell me what you read."
"Okay, it's tough. It's not like the New York Times is covering it but there's postings. I even found this website called Ghostfacers!"
"Ghostfacers," Oliver says.
"I know and it... it lives up to the skepticism in your voice. But on the website, they talk about this house. The Morton House and how these guys knew about these kids disappearing there and how they went in and stopped it..."
"Felicity..."
"Oliver, I hacked the local police department. It all checks out. The Morton House had numerous disappearances, including the night Sam and Dean Winchester were there. Someone died, Alan Corbett. But that's it. After they were there, nothing. I haven't checked out all the other stories but..."
"Felicity, there are no such thing as ghosts."
"No, I know, but what if..."
"They're hacks. Scam artists."
"And if they're not?"
"You think the arrow guy is a ghost?"
Felicity frowned, "... not exactly?"
"Look, whoever they are, as long as we stay away from them, I think we'll be fine," Oliver said. "Did you pull the stuff for the family?"
"Yes. Oh and Diggle emailed, he'll be up tomorrow afternoon. No Lyla though."
"Ok, come on, we have a meeting with the family tomorrow at 9. We should rest," Oliver said.
Felicity nodded and then looked over to where the man she know knew as Sam was sitting. He looked up from his computer, directly at her. She tried to imagined him with a power pack or a ouija board or something but couldn't see it. But when she tried to picture him as a hack or scam artist, she thought back to the article about the college student who found his fiancee dead, and how her first impression of him had been how innocent his eyes were. Felicity closed her laptop and looked back to Oliver. Just because she had to stay away from them didn't mean she couldn't figure out who they really were.