Based on a prompt from an Anon on Tumblr: "Maybe an Olicity AU where Oliver is Felicity´s bodyguard?"
John Diggle gave Oliver one rule when he hired him: no fraternizing with the clients. He had never been tempted to break that rule in the 5 years of his employment (outside of a few advances from lonely society wives), but for some reason, he can't seem to help getting friendly with Felicity Smoak, CEO and head creative genius of Smoak Tech.
She's not the first beautiful woman he's protected, but he's never had a client who was so determined to be his friend. Most of them politely ignore him, letting him melt into the background like he's supposed to. She, however, is always addressing him. But never as "Mr. Queen" like clients usually do. She dismissed that as too formal from the beginning. It's always, "Good night, Oliver," or "Oliver, what are your feelings on dumplings for lunch?" or even the too-familiar, "So, tell me about yourself, Oliver." He's gotten personal questions before sure, but most people listen politely and then forget immediately—blatant attempts not to seem like just a rich asshole. She actually seems to care, chatting with him whenever she wants to take a break from her work.
Still, he refuses to call her by her first name, despite how many times she asks him—which is every damn day. Every morning he picks her up and she greets him with a bright, "Good morning, Oliver," to which he always responds, "Good morning, Ms. Smoak." And then she'll sigh and look at him over the top of her glasses and say, "you know I wish you'd stop that." And he'll smirk and reply with a simple, "yes, ma'am," because he knows that irks her even more.
They play this little name game for three whole months until one day, she doesn't just roll her eyes and get in the car after.
"Are you really going to keep up this 'Ms. Smoak' thing forever?" she asks, sounding resigned.
"It's part of the job," he replies formally, squaring his shoulders.
"Listen, Oliver, I understand that, but please," she says, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm, surprising him. "I know you're supposed to be all formal and stoic, but I'd feel better if you and I could just pretend we're two buddies hanging out all day. It's easier for me to forget my life might be in danger that way." She smiles up at him–expression sweet and warm–and he can't resist.
"OK, Felicity," he says softly, satisfaction spreading through him at the sound of it. She gives him a big, dazzling grin and squeezes his arm.
"There," she says happily. "Was that so hard?" she asks and then turns away to climb into the car.
Oliver frowns after, because no, it was almost too easy.
This will be the last drabble for a bit (she said without much conviction), so leave a review or two on them if you don't mind. They're greatly appreciated.