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seren_ccdTitle: What Would Hildy Johnson Do?
Fandom: Arrow (tv)
Pairing/Characters: Felicity Smoak/Oliver Queen UST
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word Count: 7,700
Spoilers: Up to Season 2, Episode 2
Disclaimer: Not mine! None of it!
A/N: My friends-list is filled with glorious, wonderful cheerleaders and so this is for all of you!
Summary: “Look, you wanted a Girl Friday, you’re going to get a Girl Friday” aka five times Felicity decides to channel Hildy Johnson and tell it like it is. Snark, pop culture references, hugs and pocket universes ensue.
Felicity let out a long, loud groan when she flopped onto her couch. It was 2am on a Friday night (well, Saturday morning by this point) and she was exhausted. Her fingers and shoulders ached and she had crunchy knots in her muscles under both her shoulder blades that always developed when she used the computer too much and she had to be back in the foundry by lunchtime the next day. Today. Whatever.
She groaned again. “Greater good,” she muttered. “All for the greater good and making sure somebody doesn’t accidentally shoot himself in the foot with his own arrow.”
Eventually, she dragged herself off the couch, and into the shower. Once she was in her pjs, she bypassed her bed and went back to the couch, knowing that she was at the point where she was too exhausted to attempt to actually sleep. She scrolled through her DVR and nothing appealed.
“Actual live TV, it is,” she said and started to flip through the channels. She stopped when she saw Cary Grant’s name and made a face when she realized it was the beginning of His Girl Friday. Of course it was. “Thanks, universe.”
But she put her remote down and started to watch. Then she started to smile as Rosalind Russell playing Hildy Johnson ran rings around Cary Grant and every other male in the vicinity. When Hildy let loose with-
“Now get this, you double-crossing chimpanzee! There ain't gonna be any interview and there ain't gonna be any story. And that certified check of yours is leaving with me in twenty minutes. I wouldn't cover the burning of Rome for you if they were just lighting it up. And if I ever lay my two eyes on you again, I'm gonna walk right up to you and hammer on that monkey skull of yours 'til it rings like a Chinese gong! Do you hear that? That's the story I just wrote. Yes, yes, I know we had a bargain. I just said I'd write it. I didn't say I wouldn't tear it up. It's all in little pieces now, Walter, and I hope to do the same for you some day.”
-Felicity burst out laughing.
“Oh, Oliver Queen,” she whispered to herself, snuggling further into her couch. “A Girl Friday, hunh? You have no idea what you’ve actually asked for, buster.”
1.
The next day at the foundry, Felicity hummed happily as she checked on the system and did her best to ignore the sounds of Oliver and Digg doing their usual sparring routine. She checked her search results and set up several more.
One of them pinged and she called out to the guys, “I think we found him!”
She heard them approach and started to talk, “Morris Crane aka ‘Big Mo'. He’s a former lawyer that’s been fleecing people suffering from the aftereffects of the Glades by getting them to give him a huge deposit and then either ditching them or going back with a sob story about how the evil insurance companies won’t play ball.”
“Sounds like a swell guy,” Diggle said.
“Oh, it gets better,” Felicity said. “The man has been all over. He was originally disbarred in New York and never even took the bar exam to be able to practice in this state. He goes from disaster to disaster, using a different name each time and scamming people out of everything they have. However this time, he’s raised his game from simple fraud to intimidation and violence. He’s found some local guys to play the muscle.”
She spun around in her chair. “Sounds like someone the Arrow should have a little chat with.”
“You’re right,” Oliver said nodding, his voice tight and low. “Figure out his usual haunts and then we’ll go from there. I’m not having this guy making a bad situation even worse.”
Felicity frowned. He’d used a tone. She knew that tone. That was the daily ‘This is my fault and I have to fix it because I’m Oliver Queen and everything that goes wrong in Starling City is my fault’ tone.
“You aren’t, by any chance, thinking that this guy being a sleazeball is your fault?” she asked casually.
The fact that he just glanced at her before turning and stalking over to his weapon cabinet was answer enough.
“Yeah, no,” Felicity said shaking her head and following him. “Don’t you dare. I’m pretty sure this guy was going to take advantage of people’s misfortune no matter what happened.”
“Felicity-” His head fell forward and he didn’t turn around.
“No!” she said sharply to his back. “Look at this guy’s track record. He has managed to insinuate himself into every disaster for the last seven years. This is what he does. The earthquakes could have been completely natural and this guy would have pounced.”
“But they weren’t natural and they were my fault and therefore this guy is on me!” he said turning around, stepping in close and his voice going low.
Remember Hildy Johnson! Felicity’s brain yelled at her when she felt the urge to take a step back. She stood her ground.
“Don’t you dare loom over me, Oliver Queen,” she said pressing her hands against his (absurdly!) firm mid-section. “I am not one of your thugs that you get to intimidate. And I am not going to back down on this. You are not responsible for everything that goes wrong in the world and it’s high time you got over yourself.”
When Felicity finished talking she had a moment to wonder if she had gone completely insane and by the look on Oliver’s face, he was wondering the same thing. She could sense Diggle hovering nearby to intervene, if necessary. Although at this point, Felicity wasn’t sure if he’d be guarding her or Oliver.
“You’re...different today,” Oliver said after a moment of looking at her.
“I’m not. I mean, not really,” she said shakily. “I’m just tired of you carrying the weight of the universe on your shoulders when there are plenty of more deserving shoulders to share the load. You aren’t the Master of Universe and you should stop acting like it.”
He tilted his head to the side and gave her that look that was part confusion, part amusement. Felicity suddenly realized that her hands were still pressed flat against his abs and she pulled them away.
“I also watched His Girl Friday last night and picked up some pointers from Hildy Johnson,” she said quickly.
He frowned. “There’s a movie?”
“I sincerely hope you’re kidding,” she said.
“He’s not,” Digg said.
Oliver glared at them both.
“Yes, there’s a movie. And it’s awesome,” she said, “and if I have to be your Girl Friday, I’m going to be my version of a Girl Friday and I am not holding back anymore.”
“You-” Oliver cleared his throat. “You were holding back? ‘Someone has broken the coffee machine violently?’ That was holding back?”
Felicity smiled while Oliver frowned. Diggle just grinned.
Felicity leaned up on her toes and pinned Oliver with a look that made her feel all kinds of fabulous and said, “Look, you wanted a Girl Friday, you’re going to get a Girl Friday. Fasten your seatbelts, gentlemen, you’re in for a bumpy night.”
Then she turned around and strode towards her computers.
She paused when she reached them and turned around to say, “That last bit’s actually from All About Eve; it came on right after His Girl Friday, but if you think I’m the kind of person who can change the channels on Bette Davis, well then, you just don’t know me at all.”
She lifted her chin in the air and sat down, her spine straight and her mind whirling between ‘Holy crap, I’m awful! I just told Oliver Queen to get over himself!’ and ‘Holy crap, that felt awesome!’.
>Which one, Smoak? she thought while her fingers tapped away. Awful or awesome?
She paused in her typing and thought, How would Hildy Johnson feel?
Felicity grinned and bounced in her seat a little.
Awesome, it is.
Oliver stared after her with wide eyes and said slowly, “I should be worried about this, shouldn’t I?”
“Worried? Nah, I wouldn’t be worried,” Diggle said crossing his arms over his chest. “Frankly, I’d be terrified right about now.”
“Great.”
2.
Felicity watched on her screen as Oliver threatened the cowering ‘Big Mo’ in front of him and almost yawned when he got to the part about making sure that the streets were safe for everyone and that Big Mo was an insignificant speck of inhumanity that could be swept away with a single arrow.
Goodness, he’s getting a bit melodramatic, she thought absently. The image of a man in front of a desk speaking in florid Spanish flashed in her brain and she snickered.
Felicity clapped a hand over her mouth when Oliver paused for a second.
“Sorry!” she whispered frantically. “Sorry! It’s fine! Carry on kicking his butt!”
Oliver continued. After Big Mo was tied up and left for the approaching police car, Oliver and Diggle headed back to the foundry.
Diggle made it in first. “Hey, what was that on the comms?”
Felicity snickered again and asked, “I know, I know, I’m awful, but have you ever watched Telemundo?”
“Yeah, I got an aunt who’s from Costa Rica, why?” he said.
Felicity pulled up a youtube clip and pressed play. Diggle watched for a moment and then his lips started twitching.
“Wow,” he said after a minute. “I’m not going to be able to keep a straight face around him now.”
Felicity burst out laughing, she was still laughing when Oliver walked in, a suspicious look on his face that changed to just shy of irritated when he saw her laughing.
“I know!” she said to him, “I’m so sorry! It was completely unprofessional and awful and I’m so, so, so sorry but-” She gestured at her screen at the man currently pacing and making declarations in Spanish.
Oliver watched, then he frowned. “What is that?”
“A telenovela,” Diggle answered. “Their bad guys are kinda...loud.”
“That...is the opposite of me,” Oliver said, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t sound like that.”
“You have failed this city,” Felicity said in a deep voice flinging her finger out in front of her imperiously, “and you must suffer the consequences!”
“You will not impede my plan to put to rights what was put wrong,” Diggle chimed in with placing his hands on his hips and striking a pose.
Felicity burst into giggles again and Diggle grinned. Oliver shook his head. “Yeah. You’re both nuts. I don’t sound like that.”
“You sometimes sound like that,” Felicity said wiping at the tears under her eyes and smiling broadly.
“Well, I’m delighted to amuse you,” he said cracking a small but honest grin. “But seriously. I don’t sound like that.”
“‘Course you don’t,” Diggle said still chuckling.
Oliver glared, but his grin stayed. “Fine. I’ll work on the speech, all right? Now, what’s next for Big Mo?”
A few hours later, after Diggle had headed out and Felicity had finished compiling a schematic for their next mission, she got out of her chair and walked a few steps as she stretched.
“When did you start watching those things?” Oliver’s voice startled her and she jumped.
“Sheesh! Oh, um, I had a friend back in high school whose mother was from Venezuela and would watch them.” Felicity smiled and shrugged. “They’re surprisingly easy and fun to follow along.”
The corner of his mouth turned up as he drew close. “I really don’t sound like them, though. Right?”
“No, no, of course you don’t,” Felicity said looking anything but sincere.
“I don’t,” he said firmly.
“Sure, fine. Whatever you say,” she said nodding and widening her eyes in a clear attempt to patronize.
Oliver narrowed his eyes and then sighed before saying, “I’m sorry it had to come to this.” Then he grabbed her by her waist.
Felicity shrieked with laughter as much from the fact that his fingers found the precise spots on her sides that turned her into a giggling mess as well as the fact that Oliver freakin’ Queen was tickling her. “Oh, my God! You jerk! Stop!”
“Not until you take it back,” he said grinning.
Felicity held out for a couple of seconds, then blurted out, “Fine! I take it back! You are the king of the morose monologue and I’m sorry I ever questioned your kickass stylings!”
Oliver stopped tickling her. “‘King of the morose monologue’? I’m not sure if that was actually a take-back.”
“It was,” she said breathlessly. “I promise.”
He smiled down at her and she realized that she was still being held by him. Being held very close to him, her hands resting on his chest and his hands spanning her sides and her thighs were aligned with his hips because dear Lord the man was a veritable tree and trees were meant to be climbed and…
She took a step back and was sure that what flashed in his eyes wasn’t longing or regret, because he just smiled at her and said, “I hated English.”
“O-kay?” she said laughing in confusion.
“We had to memorize a monologue once and I was terrible at it,” he said. “The words just wouldn’t stay in my head. Something about kings and France.”
“Probably Shakespeare’s Henry IV,” she said. “Teachers love giving that kind of heavy stuff to kids.”
“Yeah, that was it. I guess I find it funny that now…” He heaved a breath and looked away.
“That now you’re the one monologuing on rooftops?” she filled in softly.
He chuckled. “It wasn’t something I planned on doing, I can promise you that.”
“Well, we all end up doing things we hadn’t planned on doing,” she said smiling up at him.
The look he gave her was suddenly serious and she hated it. She wanted easy-going Oliver back, so she ignored the frown forming on his face and said, “For example! I never planned on giving you a crash course in telenovelas tonight, but you’ve really left me no choice in the matter.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to a spare chair and gently pushed him onto it. Then she sat back down in her own chair and pulled up one of her favorite series and pressed play. “Watch and be amazed.”
“Oh, I am,” he said softly.
Felicity glanced over at him quickly and saw that he was looking at her face. She blinked and bit her lip, trying to reign in a giddy smile.
It doesn’t mean anything, she thought. He’s just being nice and he’s probably just lonely and you’re his friend and that’s it.
His hand brushed against her shoulder as he stretched out his arm to rest on the back of her chair. Felicity froze while her mind went all shrieky-teenager at the move.
Knock it off, she told herself fiercely. You are an adult. Be one. Be cool. Be Hildy Johnson.
Gathering every molecule of calm she could, she adjusted her shoulders so that his hand rested just against her neck, under her ponytail. She decided to focus on the people yelling and gesticulating on the screen and not the fact that his hand pretty immediately cupped her neck and started rubbing gently. She was certainly not going to think about the fact that he seemed to be touching her more and more lately.
That was something she’d need to think about later.
3.
Felicity flicked her hair behind her ear for the hundredth time that morning. She’d been running late and hadn’t had a chance to work her usual regimen on her hair and had settled for just piling it on top of her head and jabbing some pencils in to keep it in place. Which had worked for awhile but was now threatening to just fall apart.
The strand fell in front of her eyes again and she huffed a sigh as she flicked. At the sound of the elevator dinging, she lifted her head and raised her eyebrows at the sight of Thea Queen walking up to her.
“Hi, is my brother around?” she asked a little hesitantly.
“Yeah, he’s in, but…” Felicity fought the urge to turn around and look at how the ‘meeting’ aka ‘More Not-so-subtle Threats About How in the Red Queen Consolidated Actually Is and You Really Would Be Better Off Selling it All To Me’ between Oliver and Isabel Rochev was going. “He’s with someone right now.”
Thea peered in through the glass and made a face. “Yikes. She looks like the original Regina George, doesn’t she?”
Felicity snorted. “I’ve long suspected that her hair is that big because it’s full of secrets.”
Thea laughed and then looked surprised at herself and stared at Felicity, who was starting to feel a little odd, considering she hadn’t really spoken much to Thea in the past.
“I’m sure they’ll be done soon,” Felicity said trying to be reassuring. “You can wait if you want?”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Thea said nodding. She walked over to one of the visitor arm chairs and sat down. She studied Felicity some more while Felicity tried her best to get some work done. A few minutes passed before Thea spoke again.
“He trusts you, doesn’t he?”
Felicity looked up and stomped on the urge to babble and told herself to deflect the question and play it cool. What came out, however, was: “Yes. Well, I think he does.”
“He does,” Thea said, crossing her legs. “He was talking about how he was only going to surround himself at work with people he trusted and here you are. It’s good. He needs someone he can trust who isn’t afraid to tell him when he’s being a bonehead.”
“Don’t we all,” Felicity said wryly.
Thea grinned. “So, is she?”
“Is she what? Who?” Felicity asked.
“The mean girl in there, is she a Regina?” Thea asked.
Felicity leaned forward. “I think Regina George would quake in her boots when faced with Isabel Rochev.”
“Damn,” Thea said. She tilted her head to the side. “You’re kind of blunt.”
“I know,” Felicity sighed. “It’s a gift and a curse some days.”
“It’s awesome, is what it is,” Thea corrected her. “And I think I like you. But I do have some questions for you before I make up my mind.”
“O-kay,” Felicity said, furrowing her brow and steeling herself for whatever Thea was going to throw at her.
“I’m going to say something and then I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind,” Thea said. “Got it?”
“Got it.”
“House or dub-step?”
“Excuse me?” Felicity asked, confused.
“House or dub-step?” Thea said intently.
Felicity’s mouth opened and closed and then she said, “Dub-step.”
“Vodka or wine?”
“Wine.”
“Gossip Girl.”
“I can’t believe they went with Dan being Gossip Girl. I mean, seriously?”
“Game of Thrones.”
Felicity paused. “Okay, this is a two-part answer. One, I want all of the women to band together and rule everything and kick all the dudes out. Two, I also want it to be the Brienne and Jaime Show.”
Thea burst out laughing. “You passed. We can so be friends.”
Felicity started to laugh, but choked it off when she heard the door to Oliver’s office opening and Isabel sauntered out, Oliver behind her.
“Thea?” Oliver asked, frowning. “Everything okay?”
“Peachy keen,” Thea said standing up. “Just need a moment of your immensely valuable time.”
Felicity bit her smile back at Oliver’s confused face and just watched as Thea stepped up to Isabel.
“Hi, I’m Thea Queen,” she said holding out her hand.
“Isabel Rochev, lovely to meet you,” Isabel said shaking Thea’s hand.
“It is lovely to meet me, I’m kind of delightful,” Thea said dryly.
Felicity covered her laugh up with a cough.
Isabel just smiled blandly. “Clearly. Mr Queen, I’ll be in touch.” She moved to leave and gave Felicity a blank look. “Miss Smoak.”
“Miss Rochev,” Felicity returned, just as blankly.
There was silence in the room while Isabel got onto the elevator. When the door closed, Thea looked at Felicity and said, “We should totally just stab Caesar.”
Felicity started to laugh while Oliver looked confused.
“What?” he asked while Felicity said, “Harsh, Thea. Very harsh.”
Thea grinned. “Am I wrong?”
“You’re really not.”
“Am I going to regret the fact that you two know each other now?” Oliver asked looking between Felicity and Thea.
“Definitely,” Thea said nodding. “We’re going to go to lunch together a lot now. She knows there’s a difference between house and dub-step, she wants Westoros to become a matriarchy and she had the appropriate reaction to CW shows.”
Oliver opened his mouth, but then turned to Felicity looking lost.
“You know how I keep saying you really should learn more about pop culture?” she mock-whispered. “This is why.”
“Right,” he said shaking his head. He turned back to Thea. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to talk business,” Thea said. She held up her bag. “I even have a folder.”
“Oh, well, if you have a folder,” he said grinning when Thea smacked him on the arm with her bag. “Come on in, we’ll talk.”
Thea headed towards the door, but paused and looked at Felicity, before asking, “How do you feel about mall pretzels?”
“Love them with a passion that cannot be contained,” she answered seriously.
Thea nodded and went into Oliver’s office. He stopped by her desk and smiled at her.
“The two of you are going to gang up on me, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, we are,” she said nodding. “Just remember, it’s for your own good.”
He chuckled and she grinned at him then sighed in annoyance as strands of hair fell in front of her eyes again. She moved to brush them back, but Oliver got there first.
“You’ve been doing this all morning,” he said as he slowly trailed his hand across her forehead and tucked the hair behind her ear.
“I woke up too late to fix it,” she said faintly, as his hand kept smoothing the strands back, his thumb brushing over the shell of her ear. She shivered and tingles tripped up her spine and settled in her stomach.
“You should tell your boss to stop making you work overtime,” he said, his hand cradling her head gently, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of her ear.
“It’s hard,” she managed to get out. “He’s a bit of a hardass, sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” he asked softly.
“The rest of the time he’s a marshmallow,” Felicity said absently, staring into his eyes.
He chuckled and dropped his hand. “Part hardass, part marshmallow. Sounds like a complex guy.”
“Not really,” Felicity said, trying to regain some semblance of cool. “He just thinks that he is. He’s actually quite simple when you get down to it, but he thinks he needs to be this complex, mysterious man when all he really needs to do is chill out.”
Oliver stared at her and Felicity blinked up at him, a little amazed she’d actually said all that.
You wanted to be Hildy, she thought helplessly. Well, that was a very Hildy thing to say.
“You weren’t kidding with the whole not holding back thing,” he said starting to smile. “So you love mall pretzels with a passion that can’t be contained?”
“It’s the rock salt,” she said with a nod thinking, So we’re just going to ignore my ramble about your inner self, that’s cool.
“What else do you feel passionate about?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
The phone on her desk rang and so Felicity just straightened her shoulders and said, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr Queen.”
He chuckled as she answered the phone and then headed into his office to talk to Thea. Felicity managed to talk rationally to Gary in accounting for several minutes all the while thinking about the way Oliver had touched her.
Look. He was stranded on an island for five years. He’s probably still trying to re-acclimate to being around humans that don’t actually want to kill him, she told herself. So, if the man wants to touch you in a nice, friendly manner that’s reminiscent of a cat wanting cuddles, well, then you are going to have to take one for the team. Hildy would be very proud of your sacrifice.
She focused on that and not how her spine tingled for at least an hour afterwards.
4.
“Oof!” Felicity lay flat on her back on the mat and did her level best to get air back into her body.
“Okay?” Oliver asked, his face coming into view.
“No,” she said hoarsely pointing at her chest. “Air! Missing. From lungs.”
“It’ll come back,” he said matter-of-factly as he hauled her to her feet. “Again.”
“I do not like you anymore,” she told him gingerly getting into position facing him.
“I know, I’m a jerk,” he said shrugging. “But Diggle goes too easy on you. We’re going to do this until you get me on the mat.”
“Oh, we’re never going to see the light of day again, are we?” she moaned.
“You can do it,” he said putting his hand on her upper arm. “Just focus and do what you have to.”
Felicity glared at him and then tugged at her tanktop and shook out her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. It was always distracting to spar with Oliver, with all the muscles and the intense looks and God, just him. At least he was wearing a shirt.
Not that Hildy would have minded, she thought ducking when he came at her and getting under his arm and managing to kick at the back of his knee. She’d have asked him to take it off already.
Felicity shook the thought from her head and focused on the very attractive, very large, musclebound guy who was actively trying to throw her to the ground. And sadly, not in the fun sexytimes kind of way. She managed to evade three further grabs (personal best!), but he got her on the fourth.
“Dang it!” she muttered when she was pulled firmly against him, her back to his chest, his arms tight around her.
“You didn’t go for my weak points again,” he said barely out of breath. Which was another thing that was so not fair, she was sweating up a storm and panting like a dog and he was a cool as a cucumber. The big jerk.
“I tried,” she said struggling to break his grip on her.
“You didn’t try hard enough,” he said casually.
“Ugh! I hate you,” she said, trying to wrench her shoulders to the side.
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You’re just frustrated.”
“In so many ways,” she muttered. Then she cringed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Like what?” he asked and she could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Oh, shut up,” she said trying again to slip out of his arms. “Argh! Why can’t I break free?”
“You’re still not trying hard enough,” the man said infuriatingly.
She stepped on his foot, but he didn’t budge.
“Nice try,” he said. “But no.”
“If I had stilettos on you’d be singing a different tune,” she said trying to jab her elbow back, but her range of movement wasn’t good enough.
“I can do this all day,” he said practically singing the words.
“Such a butthead,” she said loudly.
“Yep,” he said. “Come on, Felicity. Put some effort into it.”
She huffed a breath and tried to hook her foot behind his, but he just sidestepped it easily. She groaned in frustration.
“Look, it’s probably not fair on you,” he said, his voice very close to her ear, making her shiver. “I’m much bigger and better at this than you so this was never going to be a fair fight.”
“Thought that was the point,” she said through gritted teeth. “They’re always going to be bigger and better than me.”
“True, but I’m better than most of them, so it’s really unfair.”
She snorted. “You really think a lot yourself, Mr Queen.”
“It’s just the truth,” he said simply.
“Maybe you’re not as big and bad as you think you are,” she said trying to get her hands into a position on his arm.
“Oh, I think I am, Felicity,” he said and oh, the amusement in his voice made her see red.
Be Hildy, be Hildy, be Hildy, her brain called out. This isn’t a fair fight! It never was! You have to do something outside the box. Be unexpected and daring!
Felicity glared down at the arms banded tightly over her chest and hips and it just came to her. A move that he wouldn’t ever expect from her. She took a deep breath and then she went for it.
She licked his arm.
“What...?” Oliver’s grip slackened and Felicity quickly slid her foot back, then bent forward and let gravity and momentum do the rest. Oliver landed hard on his back and Felicity quickly followed through and straddled his stomach, her arm covering his throat.
They both stared at one another in disbelief.
“Holy crap, I got the drop on you,” Felicity breathed, their faces close together.
“Congratulations,” he said starting to grin. “How?”
“What do you mean how? Who cares how? I did it!” Felicity said grinning down at him. She sat up and punched the air. “Yes!”
“And you need to be able to do it again, so analyze what you did and know it,” he said seriously, but still smiling. “What did you do?”
“I...well, I licked you,” she said blushing.
“And why did that work?” he asked, his hands coming to rest on her hips.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t expect that from me,” she said, grinning down at him. “The usual stuff wasn’t working and I’m nowhere near strong enough so I thought, ‘Hey! Be different and distract him.’ And it worked!”
She bounced a little and grinned down at him.
“So list it out,” he ordered. “That way if you’re ever in the same position, you know how you can get out of it.”
“Right. Be unexpected, distract the attacker somehow and then work fast to get away,” she listed out the points on her fingers.
“Very good,” he said smiling up at her, his hands squeezing her hips gently. “Remember, I want you to be able to get away from trouble first, then defend yourself only if you have to.”
“I know,” she said resting her hands on his chest. “I’m getting better, though.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” he said, starting to frown.
Oh, Felicity recognized that look.
“Hey, stop that,” she said swatting at his chest with her hand. “Do we need to have the talk about me making my own choices and that you really need to stop borrowing trouble considering you’ve got plenty of your own? ‘Cause we can have the talk again. I have pie charts and Venn diagrams.”
“Felicity,” he said the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Oh, you think I’m kidding?” she asked leaning forward. “I have a Powerpoint presentation with your name on it, buddy.”
“I just hate that you’ve put yourself into this and I’m afraid that it’s too much,” he said.
“Well, my life, my decision, blah, blah, blah,” she said poking his chest with her finger. “Don’t forget that I want to be here.”
“Why?” He sounded so mystified and curious, Felicity paused and stared at him.
“Don’t you get it?” she asked softly. “Oliver.” She placed her hands on his chest just over his heart. “This? Me being on the team? It isn’t all about you. I love this city. I moved here when I was a kid and it’s amazing. The people are amazing and they don’t deserve the way they’ve been treated and have had to live. We’re giving them hope that things can change.”
He stared up at her, his eyes darting all over her face as he listened and Felicity shrugged.
“Like it or not, you’ve inspired people,” she said. She paused and sighed. “And yes, some of them have dressed themselves up in hoods and shot at you, but they did it because they want to see change in this city and you sparked that. You’ve given people a purpose. You’ve given me a purpose.”
She tapped his chest gently just above his heart. “It’s not all about you. It’s about this city and doing something that I believe in.”
He took a deep breath and Felicity felt her body rise up slowly and then back down and she blinked at him.
“I’m straddling you,” she said her eyes going wide. “You just let me deliver an entire thesis while I’m sitting on your stomach.”
“Yes, you are and yes, you did,” he said smirking ever so slightly.
“I should probably move?” she offered, her hands twitching where they lay on his pectorals.
“Probably,” he said, but his hands told a different story and they flexed on her hips and she felt the heat of each finger where they pressed against her. Good God, why were his eyes so blue? And why wasn’t he throwing her off of him?
Felicity continued to stare at him and knew that Hildy would have locked lips with him by now. She would have leaned down and just gone for it, consequences be darned and let the chips fall where they may.
But deep down, as much as she tried to be daring and upfront, Felicity knew who she was. And she needed more. She needed to be sure. Of herself and of him and she couldn’t do casual with Oliver, it would just break her heart. So she couldn’t make any kind of move until she had heard it from Oliver himself that he was all in.
She gave him a slightly sheepish smile and eased herself off his stomach and got to her feet. She heard a long exhale behind her, but then Oliver was on his feet and walking to face her. She looked up at him and he gave her a tiny smile.
“Do you really have a Powerpoint with my name on it?” he asked.
Felicity nodded. “It’s about ten slides long.”
“Are there pictures?”
“And sound effects.”
“Nice.”
She laughed and heard the sound of the main door opening.
“I come bearing unhealthy food,” Diggle called out.
“My favorite!” Felicity said turning around. “Hey, Digg! I got Oliver on his back!”
Diggle hesitated and she heard Oliver chuckle behind her.
She cringed but then waved her hand. “Eh, I don’t care, it’s an accurate statement.”
“Prove it,” Diggle said, holding her dinner high up in the air.
She narrowed her eyes at him, but turned to Oliver and said, “You’re going down, Queen.”
“Bring it, Smoak.”
It took her twenty minutes to get him on the mat, and she didn’t even have to lick him.
5.
“So, am I Cary Grant or the other guy?”
It was just another Tuesday night filled with gathering intel on the latest villain to walk the streets and Felicity was deep into getting into a tough database when Oliver walked in the room. She looked over from her computer and frowned at Oliver. “What?”
“Am I Cary Grant or the other guy?” he repeated sitting down in the chair next to her at the bank of computers in the foundry. “I watched His Girl Friday last night and was just wondering.”
She stopped typing and stared at him. “You voluntarily watched His Girl Friday?”
“You mentioned it that time and I decided I should probably see what it is that I actually asked for,” he said with a shrug.
Felicity laughed and continued to stare at him. He watched it? For her? What? She was tempted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming on in some kind of parallel universe.
“So, which one am I?” he asked again. “Cary Grant or the other guy?”
“Ralph Bellamy and well, neither, actually,” Felicity said leaning back in her chair.
“Oh.” He looked disappointed. Felicity snickered.
“You wanted to be Cary Grant, didn’t you?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, the only Cary Grant is Cary Grant,” she said. “No one else comes close.”
“Fair enough,” he said nodding and looking more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.
“I can’t believe you watched it,” she said softly.
“It was good. Funny. And that Hildy.” He shook his head. “Wow.”
“I want to be more like her,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “More like her? Felicity. You are her. You tell me when to chill out and you get things done and you have heart and compassion and energy and while I haven’t seen you wear one yet, I’m pretty sure you’d rock the heck out of one of those hats.”
Felicity burst out laughing. “Wow. Well, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He reached over and put his hand on top of where hers rested on her lap. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and her heart thumped.
“You keep doing that,” she said staring down at his hand.
“Doing what?” His voice was low and quiet.
“Touching me.” He made to pull his hand back, but she entwined her fingers with his and held him still.
“Didn’t say I minded,” she said as casually as she could. “Just curious as to whether or not you knew you were doing it.”
His forehead furrowed and he stared so intensely at their hands she could practically feel the heat of his gaze. “I knew I was doing it,” he said eventually. “It…feels right?”
“Are…you asking me or telling me that?” she asked.
“Telling you?”
She huffed out a laugh and so did he, even as he said, “I’m a mess, Felicity. You know this.”
“Well, the first step is admitting it,” she said grinning. He shook his head and she shook his hand a little. “I’m not actually kidding, Oliver. The fact that you know something is not right is a huge thing. The fact that you said it out loud is even bigger.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” he said. “It feels…weak.”
They stared at their joined hands for several minutes in silence before Felicity spoke again.
“Oliver, I’m going to ask you what sounds like a silly question, but really isn’t,” she said uncertainly. “Would you like a hug?”
He just stared at her, so steadily and for so long, Felicity felt her cheeks heat up and a rambling excuse build up in her throat. But just as she opened her mouth to play off what she’d just said, he said stiffly, “Yes, I would.”
Felicity blinked at him and got to her feet quickly, in case he changed his mind. He remained seated just watching her with a helpless look in his eyes as she took a step closer to him She came to a stop between his legs and raised her arms to encircle his shoulders. She applied the lightest of pressure to him to invite him to lean forward and with a sharp rush of breath, his arms wound around her waist and she was pulled in closer. His head came to rest on her chest and she hugged him tightly, her fingers carding through his hair and he breathed in and out.
”How’s this?” she asked after a few seconds.
“Nice,” he said, his voice muffled.
“Well, I’m here when you need me,” she said softly.
“I know. I…”
“You…” she prodded gently.
“I shouldn’t need you,” he said, his arms tightening on her waist belying his words. “I shouldn’t need anyone.”
“Bull crap,” Felicity said with a snort.
“Felicity-”
“Nope, not hearing it,” she said gently, still running her fingers through his hair. “You’re allowed to need people. It’s something of a human characteristic. And it’s allowed.”
“Mmm,” was all he said, but Felicity noticed that he didn’t let her go.
“I’d also like to point out that it shouldn’t take you longer than thirty seconds to say that you need a hug,” she said hoping she wasn’t pushing her luck with the ‘Holy crap, Oliver is actually sharing!’ thing. “You should follow your instincts.”
“I was,” he said, his hand rubbing circles on her back. “My instincts told me that I shouldn’t get close to you.”
“Oh,” she said frowning. “Well, clearly you need some new instincts.”
He snorted and lifted his head to look at her. “Clearly. But it’s hard. It’s really hard.”
“I know it is,” she said nodding. She traced a line through his hair with her finger. “You have all these crummy thoughts and you’ve thought them so much they’ve created this groove in your brain. So, it’s hard to send thoughts down better grooves, because they’re so used to the well-worn crummy grooves.”
He tilted his head to the side. “So I need to get my grooves back?”
Felicity burst out laughing. “Okay, that was a terrible joke and I’m only laughing because you should do it more often and because it’s true. Yes, you need to get into a better groove.”
He grinned. “Isn’t that a Madonna song?”
“Well, I’m paraphrasing,” she said still smiling. “Basically, you really need to give yourself a break.”
“Don’t know if I can,” he said turning serious, his hands coming to rest on her waist. “I may need my Girl Friday to tell me what’s what.”
“Oh, I can do that,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’m getting pretty darn good at that.”
“You are.” He made to say something else but hesitated.
“What?” she asked.
He paused again, but eventually asked, “So, I’m not Cary Grant?”
Clearly the sharing portion of the evening was done, but she wasn’t going to push. Instead, she grinned. “Disappointed?”
“Kinda.”
“Well, if you it makes you feel any better, you do a pretty passable John Wayne at times,” she said. She cocked her head to the side. “Actually, you do a really good Alan Ladd. You know, like in Shane.”
Oliver looked blank and Felicity’s jaw dropped. She shook his shoulders. “You haven’t seen Shane?”
“Uh, no,” he said warily. “Should I have?”
“Yes!” she shouted. “In fact, I thought that’s who you’ve been channelling this whole time. You know” - she lowered her voice - “‘A man has to be what he is. Can’t go breakin’ the mold.’”
“Not ringing a bell,” he said starting to grin.
“Well, we’re going to fix that right now,” she said. “You, me, popcorn and a classic western. What do you say?”
“Depends,” he said, his hands flexing on her waist. “Will there be Twizzlers?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What kind of a girl do you think I am? Of course there will be Twizzlers.”
“Sold,” he said getting to his feet and smiling down at her. Felicity grinned back and turned to go.
“Hey.” He tugged on her hand and she turned and bumped into him. They both froze at the full body contact and Felicity swallowed hard.
“I…” His eyes roamed all over her face and his brow furrowed. “I forgot what I was going to say.”
“It happens,” she said, her voice squeaking slightly.
His head tipped towards hers and she tightened her grip on his hand, as his other hand rested against the side of her neck, his thumb on her pulse.
“This isn’t a smart idea,” she breathed. “You’re not in a responsible headspace right now.”
“I know,” he said nodding, his face coming closer. “I should let you go.”
Felicity nodded, her skin tingling as his thumb rubbed against her pulse point. “We should wait to do this when things aren’t so volatile.”
“It’d be the smart thing to do,” he said. He shook his head. “I’m not feeling very smart at the moment.”
“Me neither,” she said faintly. Then she brightened. “Pocket universe!”
Oliver blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s a Doctor Who thing,” she said quickly. “Basically, there are these little pocket universes that exist just on top of this one and sometimes you can see them. They’re like these little glimpses of another world. But the time in them moves more slowly than this one. So a minute in a pocket universe stretches out over an hour in this one before it catches up.”
“O-kay,” he said looking confused. “Are you saying that we should slip into a pocket universe and see what a glimpse of -” he nodded at the two of them - “what this would be like?”
She nodded. “Just for say, three minutes. Then our pocket universe would snap back into this one.”
“I don’t think three minutes is going to be long enough,” he said leaning forward again, his mouth hovering just above hers.
“We could stretch it to five,” she whispered before his mouth covered hers.
Felicity had long suspected that kissing Oliver Queen would be a heck of an experience. And yes, she’d had a fantasy or two (or twelve), but nothing compared to the reality.
For one thing, it wasn’t perfect.
Noses bumped and teeth pressed a little too hard against lips before the timing evened off and a rhythm was found. He held her hand a little too tightly and she wobbled on her tiptoes and bit his lower lip by accident. But it caused a smile and then his tongue was stroking against hers and she was pulling herself as close to him as she could and yeah.
It was better than perfect; it was real.
When Felicity finally broke away, she managed to say, albeit a bit breathlessly, “That may have been longer than five minutes.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he said, his breath as uneven as hers. “Are we back in our universe now?”
Felicity nodded. “But this universe still has popcorn and westerns.”
“And Twizzlers?”
“And Twizzlers.”
“Well, lead the way, Hildy,” he said, his smile easy and his tone light.
Felicity winked at him and led him out of the foundry, leaving pocket universes and bows and arrows behind them for the evening.
Fandom: Arrow (tv)
Pairing/Characters: Felicity Smoak/Oliver Queen UST
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word Count: 7,700
Spoilers: Up to Season 2, Episode 2
Disclaimer: Not mine! None of it!
A/N: My friends-list is filled with glorious, wonderful cheerleaders and so this is for all of you!
Summary: “Look, you wanted a Girl Friday, you’re going to get a Girl Friday” aka five times Felicity decides to channel Hildy Johnson and tell it like it is. Snark, pop culture references, hugs and pocket universes ensue.
Felicity let out a long, loud groan when she flopped onto her couch. It was 2am on a Friday night (well, Saturday morning by this point) and she was exhausted. Her fingers and shoulders ached and she had crunchy knots in her muscles under both her shoulder blades that always developed when she used the computer too much and she had to be back in the foundry by lunchtime the next day. Today. Whatever.
She groaned again. “Greater good,” she muttered. “All for the greater good and making sure somebody doesn’t accidentally shoot himself in the foot with his own arrow.”
Eventually, she dragged herself off the couch, and into the shower. Once she was in her pjs, she bypassed her bed and went back to the couch, knowing that she was at the point where she was too exhausted to attempt to actually sleep. She scrolled through her DVR and nothing appealed.
“Actual live TV, it is,” she said and started to flip through the channels. She stopped when she saw Cary Grant’s name and made a face when she realized it was the beginning of His Girl Friday. Of course it was. “Thanks, universe.”
But she put her remote down and started to watch. Then she started to smile as Rosalind Russell playing Hildy Johnson ran rings around Cary Grant and every other male in the vicinity. When Hildy let loose with-
“Now get this, you double-crossing chimpanzee! There ain't gonna be any interview and there ain't gonna be any story. And that certified check of yours is leaving with me in twenty minutes. I wouldn't cover the burning of Rome for you if they were just lighting it up. And if I ever lay my two eyes on you again, I'm gonna walk right up to you and hammer on that monkey skull of yours 'til it rings like a Chinese gong! Do you hear that? That's the story I just wrote. Yes, yes, I know we had a bargain. I just said I'd write it. I didn't say I wouldn't tear it up. It's all in little pieces now, Walter, and I hope to do the same for you some day.”
-Felicity burst out laughing.
“Oh, Oliver Queen,” she whispered to herself, snuggling further into her couch. “A Girl Friday, hunh? You have no idea what you’ve actually asked for, buster.”
1.
The next day at the foundry, Felicity hummed happily as she checked on the system and did her best to ignore the sounds of Oliver and Digg doing their usual sparring routine. She checked her search results and set up several more.
One of them pinged and she called out to the guys, “I think we found him!”
She heard them approach and started to talk, “Morris Crane aka ‘Big Mo'. He’s a former lawyer that’s been fleecing people suffering from the aftereffects of the Glades by getting them to give him a huge deposit and then either ditching them or going back with a sob story about how the evil insurance companies won’t play ball.”
“Sounds like a swell guy,” Diggle said.
“Oh, it gets better,” Felicity said. “The man has been all over. He was originally disbarred in New York and never even took the bar exam to be able to practice in this state. He goes from disaster to disaster, using a different name each time and scamming people out of everything they have. However this time, he’s raised his game from simple fraud to intimidation and violence. He’s found some local guys to play the muscle.”
She spun around in her chair. “Sounds like someone the Arrow should have a little chat with.”
“You’re right,” Oliver said nodding, his voice tight and low. “Figure out his usual haunts and then we’ll go from there. I’m not having this guy making a bad situation even worse.”
Felicity frowned. He’d used a tone. She knew that tone. That was the daily ‘This is my fault and I have to fix it because I’m Oliver Queen and everything that goes wrong in Starling City is my fault’ tone.
“You aren’t, by any chance, thinking that this guy being a sleazeball is your fault?” she asked casually.
The fact that he just glanced at her before turning and stalking over to his weapon cabinet was answer enough.
“Yeah, no,” Felicity said shaking her head and following him. “Don’t you dare. I’m pretty sure this guy was going to take advantage of people’s misfortune no matter what happened.”
“Felicity-” His head fell forward and he didn’t turn around.
“No!” she said sharply to his back. “Look at this guy’s track record. He has managed to insinuate himself into every disaster for the last seven years. This is what he does. The earthquakes could have been completely natural and this guy would have pounced.”
“But they weren’t natural and they were my fault and therefore this guy is on me!” he said turning around, stepping in close and his voice going low.
Remember Hildy Johnson! Felicity’s brain yelled at her when she felt the urge to take a step back. She stood her ground.
“Don’t you dare loom over me, Oliver Queen,” she said pressing her hands against his (absurdly!) firm mid-section. “I am not one of your thugs that you get to intimidate. And I am not going to back down on this. You are not responsible for everything that goes wrong in the world and it’s high time you got over yourself.”
When Felicity finished talking she had a moment to wonder if she had gone completely insane and by the look on Oliver’s face, he was wondering the same thing. She could sense Diggle hovering nearby to intervene, if necessary. Although at this point, Felicity wasn’t sure if he’d be guarding her or Oliver.
“You’re...different today,” Oliver said after a moment of looking at her.
“I’m not. I mean, not really,” she said shakily. “I’m just tired of you carrying the weight of the universe on your shoulders when there are plenty of more deserving shoulders to share the load. You aren’t the Master of Universe and you should stop acting like it.”
He tilted his head to the side and gave her that look that was part confusion, part amusement. Felicity suddenly realized that her hands were still pressed flat against his abs and she pulled them away.
“I also watched His Girl Friday last night and picked up some pointers from Hildy Johnson,” she said quickly.
He frowned. “There’s a movie?”
“I sincerely hope you’re kidding,” she said.
“He’s not,” Digg said.
Oliver glared at them both.
“Yes, there’s a movie. And it’s awesome,” she said, “and if I have to be your Girl Friday, I’m going to be my version of a Girl Friday and I am not holding back anymore.”
“You-” Oliver cleared his throat. “You were holding back? ‘Someone has broken the coffee machine violently?’ That was holding back?”
Felicity smiled while Oliver frowned. Diggle just grinned.
Felicity leaned up on her toes and pinned Oliver with a look that made her feel all kinds of fabulous and said, “Look, you wanted a Girl Friday, you’re going to get a Girl Friday. Fasten your seatbelts, gentlemen, you’re in for a bumpy night.”
Then she turned around and strode towards her computers.
She paused when she reached them and turned around to say, “That last bit’s actually from All About Eve; it came on right after His Girl Friday, but if you think I’m the kind of person who can change the channels on Bette Davis, well then, you just don’t know me at all.”
She lifted her chin in the air and sat down, her spine straight and her mind whirling between ‘Holy crap, I’m awful! I just told Oliver Queen to get over himself!’ and ‘Holy crap, that felt awesome!’.
>Which one, Smoak? she thought while her fingers tapped away. Awful or awesome?
She paused in her typing and thought, How would Hildy Johnson feel?
Felicity grinned and bounced in her seat a little.
Awesome, it is.
Oliver stared after her with wide eyes and said slowly, “I should be worried about this, shouldn’t I?”
“Worried? Nah, I wouldn’t be worried,” Diggle said crossing his arms over his chest. “Frankly, I’d be terrified right about now.”
“Great.”
2.
Felicity watched on her screen as Oliver threatened the cowering ‘Big Mo’ in front of him and almost yawned when he got to the part about making sure that the streets were safe for everyone and that Big Mo was an insignificant speck of inhumanity that could be swept away with a single arrow.
Goodness, he’s getting a bit melodramatic, she thought absently. The image of a man in front of a desk speaking in florid Spanish flashed in her brain and she snickered.
Felicity clapped a hand over her mouth when Oliver paused for a second.
“Sorry!” she whispered frantically. “Sorry! It’s fine! Carry on kicking his butt!”
Oliver continued. After Big Mo was tied up and left for the approaching police car, Oliver and Diggle headed back to the foundry.
Diggle made it in first. “Hey, what was that on the comms?”
Felicity snickered again and asked, “I know, I know, I’m awful, but have you ever watched Telemundo?”
“Yeah, I got an aunt who’s from Costa Rica, why?” he said.
Felicity pulled up a youtube clip and pressed play. Diggle watched for a moment and then his lips started twitching.
“Wow,” he said after a minute. “I’m not going to be able to keep a straight face around him now.”
Felicity burst out laughing, she was still laughing when Oliver walked in, a suspicious look on his face that changed to just shy of irritated when he saw her laughing.
“I know!” she said to him, “I’m so sorry! It was completely unprofessional and awful and I’m so, so, so sorry but-” She gestured at her screen at the man currently pacing and making declarations in Spanish.
Oliver watched, then he frowned. “What is that?”
“A telenovela,” Diggle answered. “Their bad guys are kinda...loud.”
“That...is the opposite of me,” Oliver said, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t sound like that.”
“You have failed this city,” Felicity said in a deep voice flinging her finger out in front of her imperiously, “and you must suffer the consequences!”
“You will not impede my plan to put to rights what was put wrong,” Diggle chimed in with placing his hands on his hips and striking a pose.
Felicity burst into giggles again and Diggle grinned. Oliver shook his head. “Yeah. You’re both nuts. I don’t sound like that.”
“You sometimes sound like that,” Felicity said wiping at the tears under her eyes and smiling broadly.
“Well, I’m delighted to amuse you,” he said cracking a small but honest grin. “But seriously. I don’t sound like that.”
“‘Course you don’t,” Diggle said still chuckling.
Oliver glared, but his grin stayed. “Fine. I’ll work on the speech, all right? Now, what’s next for Big Mo?”
A few hours later, after Diggle had headed out and Felicity had finished compiling a schematic for their next mission, she got out of her chair and walked a few steps as she stretched.
“When did you start watching those things?” Oliver’s voice startled her and she jumped.
“Sheesh! Oh, um, I had a friend back in high school whose mother was from Venezuela and would watch them.” Felicity smiled and shrugged. “They’re surprisingly easy and fun to follow along.”
The corner of his mouth turned up as he drew close. “I really don’t sound like them, though. Right?”
“No, no, of course you don’t,” Felicity said looking anything but sincere.
“I don’t,” he said firmly.
“Sure, fine. Whatever you say,” she said nodding and widening her eyes in a clear attempt to patronize.
Oliver narrowed his eyes and then sighed before saying, “I’m sorry it had to come to this.” Then he grabbed her by her waist.
Felicity shrieked with laughter as much from the fact that his fingers found the precise spots on her sides that turned her into a giggling mess as well as the fact that Oliver freakin’ Queen was tickling her. “Oh, my God! You jerk! Stop!”
“Not until you take it back,” he said grinning.
Felicity held out for a couple of seconds, then blurted out, “Fine! I take it back! You are the king of the morose monologue and I’m sorry I ever questioned your kickass stylings!”
Oliver stopped tickling her. “‘King of the morose monologue’? I’m not sure if that was actually a take-back.”
“It was,” she said breathlessly. “I promise.”
He smiled down at her and she realized that she was still being held by him. Being held very close to him, her hands resting on his chest and his hands spanning her sides and her thighs were aligned with his hips because dear Lord the man was a veritable tree and trees were meant to be climbed and…
She took a step back and was sure that what flashed in his eyes wasn’t longing or regret, because he just smiled at her and said, “I hated English.”
“O-kay?” she said laughing in confusion.
“We had to memorize a monologue once and I was terrible at it,” he said. “The words just wouldn’t stay in my head. Something about kings and France.”
“Probably Shakespeare’s Henry IV,” she said. “Teachers love giving that kind of heavy stuff to kids.”
“Yeah, that was it. I guess I find it funny that now…” He heaved a breath and looked away.
“That now you’re the one monologuing on rooftops?” she filled in softly.
He chuckled. “It wasn’t something I planned on doing, I can promise you that.”
“Well, we all end up doing things we hadn’t planned on doing,” she said smiling up at him.
The look he gave her was suddenly serious and she hated it. She wanted easy-going Oliver back, so she ignored the frown forming on his face and said, “For example! I never planned on giving you a crash course in telenovelas tonight, but you’ve really left me no choice in the matter.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to a spare chair and gently pushed him onto it. Then she sat back down in her own chair and pulled up one of her favorite series and pressed play. “Watch and be amazed.”
“Oh, I am,” he said softly.
Felicity glanced over at him quickly and saw that he was looking at her face. She blinked and bit her lip, trying to reign in a giddy smile.
It doesn’t mean anything, she thought. He’s just being nice and he’s probably just lonely and you’re his friend and that’s it.
His hand brushed against her shoulder as he stretched out his arm to rest on the back of her chair. Felicity froze while her mind went all shrieky-teenager at the move.
Knock it off, she told herself fiercely. You are an adult. Be one. Be cool. Be Hildy Johnson.
Gathering every molecule of calm she could, she adjusted her shoulders so that his hand rested just against her neck, under her ponytail. She decided to focus on the people yelling and gesticulating on the screen and not the fact that his hand pretty immediately cupped her neck and started rubbing gently. She was certainly not going to think about the fact that he seemed to be touching her more and more lately.
That was something she’d need to think about later.
3.
Felicity flicked her hair behind her ear for the hundredth time that morning. She’d been running late and hadn’t had a chance to work her usual regimen on her hair and had settled for just piling it on top of her head and jabbing some pencils in to keep it in place. Which had worked for awhile but was now threatening to just fall apart.
The strand fell in front of her eyes again and she huffed a sigh as she flicked. At the sound of the elevator dinging, she lifted her head and raised her eyebrows at the sight of Thea Queen walking up to her.
“Hi, is my brother around?” she asked a little hesitantly.
“Yeah, he’s in, but…” Felicity fought the urge to turn around and look at how the ‘meeting’ aka ‘More Not-so-subtle Threats About How in the Red Queen Consolidated Actually Is and You Really Would Be Better Off Selling it All To Me’ between Oliver and Isabel Rochev was going. “He’s with someone right now.”
Thea peered in through the glass and made a face. “Yikes. She looks like the original Regina George, doesn’t she?”
Felicity snorted. “I’ve long suspected that her hair is that big because it’s full of secrets.”
Thea laughed and then looked surprised at herself and stared at Felicity, who was starting to feel a little odd, considering she hadn’t really spoken much to Thea in the past.
“I’m sure they’ll be done soon,” Felicity said trying to be reassuring. “You can wait if you want?”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Thea said nodding. She walked over to one of the visitor arm chairs and sat down. She studied Felicity some more while Felicity tried her best to get some work done. A few minutes passed before Thea spoke again.
“He trusts you, doesn’t he?”
Felicity looked up and stomped on the urge to babble and told herself to deflect the question and play it cool. What came out, however, was: “Yes. Well, I think he does.”
“He does,” Thea said, crossing her legs. “He was talking about how he was only going to surround himself at work with people he trusted and here you are. It’s good. He needs someone he can trust who isn’t afraid to tell him when he’s being a bonehead.”
“Don’t we all,” Felicity said wryly.
Thea grinned. “So, is she?”
“Is she what? Who?” Felicity asked.
“The mean girl in there, is she a Regina?” Thea asked.
Felicity leaned forward. “I think Regina George would quake in her boots when faced with Isabel Rochev.”
“Damn,” Thea said. She tilted her head to the side. “You’re kind of blunt.”
“I know,” Felicity sighed. “It’s a gift and a curse some days.”
“It’s awesome, is what it is,” Thea corrected her. “And I think I like you. But I do have some questions for you before I make up my mind.”
“O-kay,” Felicity said, furrowing her brow and steeling herself for whatever Thea was going to throw at her.
“I’m going to say something and then I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind,” Thea said. “Got it?”
“Got it.”
“House or dub-step?”
“Excuse me?” Felicity asked, confused.
“House or dub-step?” Thea said intently.
Felicity’s mouth opened and closed and then she said, “Dub-step.”
“Vodka or wine?”
“Wine.”
“Gossip Girl.”
“I can’t believe they went with Dan being Gossip Girl. I mean, seriously?”
“Game of Thrones.”
Felicity paused. “Okay, this is a two-part answer. One, I want all of the women to band together and rule everything and kick all the dudes out. Two, I also want it to be the Brienne and Jaime Show.”
Thea burst out laughing. “You passed. We can so be friends.”
Felicity started to laugh, but choked it off when she heard the door to Oliver’s office opening and Isabel sauntered out, Oliver behind her.
“Thea?” Oliver asked, frowning. “Everything okay?”
“Peachy keen,” Thea said standing up. “Just need a moment of your immensely valuable time.”
Felicity bit her smile back at Oliver’s confused face and just watched as Thea stepped up to Isabel.
“Hi, I’m Thea Queen,” she said holding out her hand.
“Isabel Rochev, lovely to meet you,” Isabel said shaking Thea’s hand.
“It is lovely to meet me, I’m kind of delightful,” Thea said dryly.
Felicity covered her laugh up with a cough.
Isabel just smiled blandly. “Clearly. Mr Queen, I’ll be in touch.” She moved to leave and gave Felicity a blank look. “Miss Smoak.”
“Miss Rochev,” Felicity returned, just as blankly.
There was silence in the room while Isabel got onto the elevator. When the door closed, Thea looked at Felicity and said, “We should totally just stab Caesar.”
Felicity started to laugh while Oliver looked confused.
“What?” he asked while Felicity said, “Harsh, Thea. Very harsh.”
Thea grinned. “Am I wrong?”
“You’re really not.”
“Am I going to regret the fact that you two know each other now?” Oliver asked looking between Felicity and Thea.
“Definitely,” Thea said nodding. “We’re going to go to lunch together a lot now. She knows there’s a difference between house and dub-step, she wants Westoros to become a matriarchy and she had the appropriate reaction to CW shows.”
Oliver opened his mouth, but then turned to Felicity looking lost.
“You know how I keep saying you really should learn more about pop culture?” she mock-whispered. “This is why.”
“Right,” he said shaking his head. He turned back to Thea. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to talk business,” Thea said. She held up her bag. “I even have a folder.”
“Oh, well, if you have a folder,” he said grinning when Thea smacked him on the arm with her bag. “Come on in, we’ll talk.”
Thea headed towards the door, but paused and looked at Felicity, before asking, “How do you feel about mall pretzels?”
“Love them with a passion that cannot be contained,” she answered seriously.
Thea nodded and went into Oliver’s office. He stopped by her desk and smiled at her.
“The two of you are going to gang up on me, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, we are,” she said nodding. “Just remember, it’s for your own good.”
He chuckled and she grinned at him then sighed in annoyance as strands of hair fell in front of her eyes again. She moved to brush them back, but Oliver got there first.
“You’ve been doing this all morning,” he said as he slowly trailed his hand across her forehead and tucked the hair behind her ear.
“I woke up too late to fix it,” she said faintly, as his hand kept smoothing the strands back, his thumb brushing over the shell of her ear. She shivered and tingles tripped up her spine and settled in her stomach.
“You should tell your boss to stop making you work overtime,” he said, his hand cradling her head gently, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of her ear.
“It’s hard,” she managed to get out. “He’s a bit of a hardass, sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” he asked softly.
“The rest of the time he’s a marshmallow,” Felicity said absently, staring into his eyes.
He chuckled and dropped his hand. “Part hardass, part marshmallow. Sounds like a complex guy.”
“Not really,” Felicity said, trying to regain some semblance of cool. “He just thinks that he is. He’s actually quite simple when you get down to it, but he thinks he needs to be this complex, mysterious man when all he really needs to do is chill out.”
Oliver stared at her and Felicity blinked up at him, a little amazed she’d actually said all that.
You wanted to be Hildy, she thought helplessly. Well, that was a very Hildy thing to say.
“You weren’t kidding with the whole not holding back thing,” he said starting to smile. “So you love mall pretzels with a passion that can’t be contained?”
“It’s the rock salt,” she said with a nod thinking, So we’re just going to ignore my ramble about your inner self, that’s cool.
“What else do you feel passionate about?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
The phone on her desk rang and so Felicity just straightened her shoulders and said, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr Queen.”
He chuckled as she answered the phone and then headed into his office to talk to Thea. Felicity managed to talk rationally to Gary in accounting for several minutes all the while thinking about the way Oliver had touched her.
Look. He was stranded on an island for five years. He’s probably still trying to re-acclimate to being around humans that don’t actually want to kill him, she told herself. So, if the man wants to touch you in a nice, friendly manner that’s reminiscent of a cat wanting cuddles, well, then you are going to have to take one for the team. Hildy would be very proud of your sacrifice.
She focused on that and not how her spine tingled for at least an hour afterwards.
4.
“Oof!” Felicity lay flat on her back on the mat and did her level best to get air back into her body.
“Okay?” Oliver asked, his face coming into view.
“No,” she said hoarsely pointing at her chest. “Air! Missing. From lungs.”
“It’ll come back,” he said matter-of-factly as he hauled her to her feet. “Again.”
“I do not like you anymore,” she told him gingerly getting into position facing him.
“I know, I’m a jerk,” he said shrugging. “But Diggle goes too easy on you. We’re going to do this until you get me on the mat.”
“Oh, we’re never going to see the light of day again, are we?” she moaned.
“You can do it,” he said putting his hand on her upper arm. “Just focus and do what you have to.”
Felicity glared at him and then tugged at her tanktop and shook out her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. It was always distracting to spar with Oliver, with all the muscles and the intense looks and God, just him. At least he was wearing a shirt.
Not that Hildy would have minded, she thought ducking when he came at her and getting under his arm and managing to kick at the back of his knee. She’d have asked him to take it off already.
Felicity shook the thought from her head and focused on the very attractive, very large, musclebound guy who was actively trying to throw her to the ground. And sadly, not in the fun sexytimes kind of way. She managed to evade three further grabs (personal best!), but he got her on the fourth.
“Dang it!” she muttered when she was pulled firmly against him, her back to his chest, his arms tight around her.
“You didn’t go for my weak points again,” he said barely out of breath. Which was another thing that was so not fair, she was sweating up a storm and panting like a dog and he was a cool as a cucumber. The big jerk.
“I tried,” she said struggling to break his grip on her.
“You didn’t try hard enough,” he said casually.
“Ugh! I hate you,” she said, trying to wrench her shoulders to the side.
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You’re just frustrated.”
“In so many ways,” she muttered. Then she cringed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Like what?” he asked and she could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Oh, shut up,” she said trying again to slip out of his arms. “Argh! Why can’t I break free?”
“You’re still not trying hard enough,” the man said infuriatingly.
She stepped on his foot, but he didn’t budge.
“Nice try,” he said. “But no.”
“If I had stilettos on you’d be singing a different tune,” she said trying to jab her elbow back, but her range of movement wasn’t good enough.
“I can do this all day,” he said practically singing the words.
“Such a butthead,” she said loudly.
“Yep,” he said. “Come on, Felicity. Put some effort into it.”
She huffed a breath and tried to hook her foot behind his, but he just sidestepped it easily. She groaned in frustration.
“Look, it’s probably not fair on you,” he said, his voice very close to her ear, making her shiver. “I’m much bigger and better at this than you so this was never going to be a fair fight.”
“Thought that was the point,” she said through gritted teeth. “They’re always going to be bigger and better than me.”
“True, but I’m better than most of them, so it’s really unfair.”
She snorted. “You really think a lot yourself, Mr Queen.”
“It’s just the truth,” he said simply.
“Maybe you’re not as big and bad as you think you are,” she said trying to get her hands into a position on his arm.
“Oh, I think I am, Felicity,” he said and oh, the amusement in his voice made her see red.
Be Hildy, be Hildy, be Hildy, her brain called out. This isn’t a fair fight! It never was! You have to do something outside the box. Be unexpected and daring!
Felicity glared down at the arms banded tightly over her chest and hips and it just came to her. A move that he wouldn’t ever expect from her. She took a deep breath and then she went for it.
She licked his arm.
“What...?” Oliver’s grip slackened and Felicity quickly slid her foot back, then bent forward and let gravity and momentum do the rest. Oliver landed hard on his back and Felicity quickly followed through and straddled his stomach, her arm covering his throat.
They both stared at one another in disbelief.
“Holy crap, I got the drop on you,” Felicity breathed, their faces close together.
“Congratulations,” he said starting to grin. “How?”
“What do you mean how? Who cares how? I did it!” Felicity said grinning down at him. She sat up and punched the air. “Yes!”
“And you need to be able to do it again, so analyze what you did and know it,” he said seriously, but still smiling. “What did you do?”
“I...well, I licked you,” she said blushing.
“And why did that work?” he asked, his hands coming to rest on her hips.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t expect that from me,” she said, grinning down at him. “The usual stuff wasn’t working and I’m nowhere near strong enough so I thought, ‘Hey! Be different and distract him.’ And it worked!”
She bounced a little and grinned down at him.
“So list it out,” he ordered. “That way if you’re ever in the same position, you know how you can get out of it.”
“Right. Be unexpected, distract the attacker somehow and then work fast to get away,” she listed out the points on her fingers.
“Very good,” he said smiling up at her, his hands squeezing her hips gently. “Remember, I want you to be able to get away from trouble first, then defend yourself only if you have to.”
“I know,” she said resting her hands on his chest. “I’m getting better, though.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” he said, starting to frown.
Oh, Felicity recognized that look.
“Hey, stop that,” she said swatting at his chest with her hand. “Do we need to have the talk about me making my own choices and that you really need to stop borrowing trouble considering you’ve got plenty of your own? ‘Cause we can have the talk again. I have pie charts and Venn diagrams.”
“Felicity,” he said the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Oh, you think I’m kidding?” she asked leaning forward. “I have a Powerpoint presentation with your name on it, buddy.”
“I just hate that you’ve put yourself into this and I’m afraid that it’s too much,” he said.
“Well, my life, my decision, blah, blah, blah,” she said poking his chest with her finger. “Don’t forget that I want to be here.”
“Why?” He sounded so mystified and curious, Felicity paused and stared at him.
“Don’t you get it?” she asked softly. “Oliver.” She placed her hands on his chest just over his heart. “This? Me being on the team? It isn’t all about you. I love this city. I moved here when I was a kid and it’s amazing. The people are amazing and they don’t deserve the way they’ve been treated and have had to live. We’re giving them hope that things can change.”
He stared up at her, his eyes darting all over her face as he listened and Felicity shrugged.
“Like it or not, you’ve inspired people,” she said. She paused and sighed. “And yes, some of them have dressed themselves up in hoods and shot at you, but they did it because they want to see change in this city and you sparked that. You’ve given people a purpose. You’ve given me a purpose.”
She tapped his chest gently just above his heart. “It’s not all about you. It’s about this city and doing something that I believe in.”
He took a deep breath and Felicity felt her body rise up slowly and then back down and she blinked at him.
“I’m straddling you,” she said her eyes going wide. “You just let me deliver an entire thesis while I’m sitting on your stomach.”
“Yes, you are and yes, you did,” he said smirking ever so slightly.
“I should probably move?” she offered, her hands twitching where they lay on his pectorals.
“Probably,” he said, but his hands told a different story and they flexed on her hips and she felt the heat of each finger where they pressed against her. Good God, why were his eyes so blue? And why wasn’t he throwing her off of him?
Felicity continued to stare at him and knew that Hildy would have locked lips with him by now. She would have leaned down and just gone for it, consequences be darned and let the chips fall where they may.
But deep down, as much as she tried to be daring and upfront, Felicity knew who she was. And she needed more. She needed to be sure. Of herself and of him and she couldn’t do casual with Oliver, it would just break her heart. So she couldn’t make any kind of move until she had heard it from Oliver himself that he was all in.
She gave him a slightly sheepish smile and eased herself off his stomach and got to her feet. She heard a long exhale behind her, but then Oliver was on his feet and walking to face her. She looked up at him and he gave her a tiny smile.
“Do you really have a Powerpoint with my name on it?” he asked.
Felicity nodded. “It’s about ten slides long.”
“Are there pictures?”
“And sound effects.”
“Nice.”
She laughed and heard the sound of the main door opening.
“I come bearing unhealthy food,” Diggle called out.
“My favorite!” Felicity said turning around. “Hey, Digg! I got Oliver on his back!”
Diggle hesitated and she heard Oliver chuckle behind her.
She cringed but then waved her hand. “Eh, I don’t care, it’s an accurate statement.”
“Prove it,” Diggle said, holding her dinner high up in the air.
She narrowed her eyes at him, but turned to Oliver and said, “You’re going down, Queen.”
“Bring it, Smoak.”
It took her twenty minutes to get him on the mat, and she didn’t even have to lick him.
5.
“So, am I Cary Grant or the other guy?”
It was just another Tuesday night filled with gathering intel on the latest villain to walk the streets and Felicity was deep into getting into a tough database when Oliver walked in the room. She looked over from her computer and frowned at Oliver. “What?”
“Am I Cary Grant or the other guy?” he repeated sitting down in the chair next to her at the bank of computers in the foundry. “I watched His Girl Friday last night and was just wondering.”
She stopped typing and stared at him. “You voluntarily watched His Girl Friday?”
“You mentioned it that time and I decided I should probably see what it is that I actually asked for,” he said with a shrug.
Felicity laughed and continued to stare at him. He watched it? For her? What? She was tempted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming on in some kind of parallel universe.
“So, which one am I?” he asked again. “Cary Grant or the other guy?”
“Ralph Bellamy and well, neither, actually,” Felicity said leaning back in her chair.
“Oh.” He looked disappointed. Felicity snickered.
“You wanted to be Cary Grant, didn’t you?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, the only Cary Grant is Cary Grant,” she said. “No one else comes close.”
“Fair enough,” he said nodding and looking more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.
“I can’t believe you watched it,” she said softly.
“It was good. Funny. And that Hildy.” He shook his head. “Wow.”
“I want to be more like her,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “More like her? Felicity. You are her. You tell me when to chill out and you get things done and you have heart and compassion and energy and while I haven’t seen you wear one yet, I’m pretty sure you’d rock the heck out of one of those hats.”
Felicity burst out laughing. “Wow. Well, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He reached over and put his hand on top of where hers rested on her lap. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and her heart thumped.
“You keep doing that,” she said staring down at his hand.
“Doing what?” His voice was low and quiet.
“Touching me.” He made to pull his hand back, but she entwined her fingers with his and held him still.
“Didn’t say I minded,” she said as casually as she could. “Just curious as to whether or not you knew you were doing it.”
His forehead furrowed and he stared so intensely at their hands she could practically feel the heat of his gaze. “I knew I was doing it,” he said eventually. “It…feels right?”
“Are…you asking me or telling me that?” she asked.
“Telling you?”
She huffed out a laugh and so did he, even as he said, “I’m a mess, Felicity. You know this.”
“Well, the first step is admitting it,” she said grinning. He shook his head and she shook his hand a little. “I’m not actually kidding, Oliver. The fact that you know something is not right is a huge thing. The fact that you said it out loud is even bigger.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” he said. “It feels…weak.”
They stared at their joined hands for several minutes in silence before Felicity spoke again.
“Oliver, I’m going to ask you what sounds like a silly question, but really isn’t,” she said uncertainly. “Would you like a hug?”
He just stared at her, so steadily and for so long, Felicity felt her cheeks heat up and a rambling excuse build up in her throat. But just as she opened her mouth to play off what she’d just said, he said stiffly, “Yes, I would.”
Felicity blinked at him and got to her feet quickly, in case he changed his mind. He remained seated just watching her with a helpless look in his eyes as she took a step closer to him She came to a stop between his legs and raised her arms to encircle his shoulders. She applied the lightest of pressure to him to invite him to lean forward and with a sharp rush of breath, his arms wound around her waist and she was pulled in closer. His head came to rest on her chest and she hugged him tightly, her fingers carding through his hair and he breathed in and out.
”How’s this?” she asked after a few seconds.
“Nice,” he said, his voice muffled.
“Well, I’m here when you need me,” she said softly.
“I know. I…”
“You…” she prodded gently.
“I shouldn’t need you,” he said, his arms tightening on her waist belying his words. “I shouldn’t need anyone.”
“Bull crap,” Felicity said with a snort.
“Felicity-”
“Nope, not hearing it,” she said gently, still running her fingers through his hair. “You’re allowed to need people. It’s something of a human characteristic. And it’s allowed.”
“Mmm,” was all he said, but Felicity noticed that he didn’t let her go.
“I’d also like to point out that it shouldn’t take you longer than thirty seconds to say that you need a hug,” she said hoping she wasn’t pushing her luck with the ‘Holy crap, Oliver is actually sharing!’ thing. “You should follow your instincts.”
“I was,” he said, his hand rubbing circles on her back. “My instincts told me that I shouldn’t get close to you.”
“Oh,” she said frowning. “Well, clearly you need some new instincts.”
He snorted and lifted his head to look at her. “Clearly. But it’s hard. It’s really hard.”
“I know it is,” she said nodding. She traced a line through his hair with her finger. “You have all these crummy thoughts and you’ve thought them so much they’ve created this groove in your brain. So, it’s hard to send thoughts down better grooves, because they’re so used to the well-worn crummy grooves.”
He tilted his head to the side. “So I need to get my grooves back?”
Felicity burst out laughing. “Okay, that was a terrible joke and I’m only laughing because you should do it more often and because it’s true. Yes, you need to get into a better groove.”
He grinned. “Isn’t that a Madonna song?”
“Well, I’m paraphrasing,” she said still smiling. “Basically, you really need to give yourself a break.”
“Don’t know if I can,” he said turning serious, his hands coming to rest on her waist. “I may need my Girl Friday to tell me what’s what.”
“Oh, I can do that,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’m getting pretty darn good at that.”
“You are.” He made to say something else but hesitated.
“What?” she asked.
He paused again, but eventually asked, “So, I’m not Cary Grant?”
Clearly the sharing portion of the evening was done, but she wasn’t going to push. Instead, she grinned. “Disappointed?”
“Kinda.”
“Well, if you it makes you feel any better, you do a pretty passable John Wayne at times,” she said. She cocked her head to the side. “Actually, you do a really good Alan Ladd. You know, like in Shane.”
Oliver looked blank and Felicity’s jaw dropped. She shook his shoulders. “You haven’t seen Shane?”
“Uh, no,” he said warily. “Should I have?”
“Yes!” she shouted. “In fact, I thought that’s who you’ve been channelling this whole time. You know” - she lowered her voice - “‘A man has to be what he is. Can’t go breakin’ the mold.’”
“Not ringing a bell,” he said starting to grin.
“Well, we’re going to fix that right now,” she said. “You, me, popcorn and a classic western. What do you say?”
“Depends,” he said, his hands flexing on her waist. “Will there be Twizzlers?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What kind of a girl do you think I am? Of course there will be Twizzlers.”
“Sold,” he said getting to his feet and smiling down at her. Felicity grinned back and turned to go.
“Hey.” He tugged on her hand and she turned and bumped into him. They both froze at the full body contact and Felicity swallowed hard.
“I…” His eyes roamed all over her face and his brow furrowed. “I forgot what I was going to say.”
“It happens,” she said, her voice squeaking slightly.
His head tipped towards hers and she tightened her grip on his hand, as his other hand rested against the side of her neck, his thumb on her pulse.
“This isn’t a smart idea,” she breathed. “You’re not in a responsible headspace right now.”
“I know,” he said nodding, his face coming closer. “I should let you go.”
Felicity nodded, her skin tingling as his thumb rubbed against her pulse point. “We should wait to do this when things aren’t so volatile.”
“It’d be the smart thing to do,” he said. He shook his head. “I’m not feeling very smart at the moment.”
“Me neither,” she said faintly. Then she brightened. “Pocket universe!”
Oliver blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s a Doctor Who thing,” she said quickly. “Basically, there are these little pocket universes that exist just on top of this one and sometimes you can see them. They’re like these little glimpses of another world. But the time in them moves more slowly than this one. So a minute in a pocket universe stretches out over an hour in this one before it catches up.”
“O-kay,” he said looking confused. “Are you saying that we should slip into a pocket universe and see what a glimpse of -” he nodded at the two of them - “what this would be like?”
She nodded. “Just for say, three minutes. Then our pocket universe would snap back into this one.”
“I don’t think three minutes is going to be long enough,” he said leaning forward again, his mouth hovering just above hers.
“We could stretch it to five,” she whispered before his mouth covered hers.
Felicity had long suspected that kissing Oliver Queen would be a heck of an experience. And yes, she’d had a fantasy or two (or twelve), but nothing compared to the reality.
For one thing, it wasn’t perfect.
Noses bumped and teeth pressed a little too hard against lips before the timing evened off and a rhythm was found. He held her hand a little too tightly and she wobbled on her tiptoes and bit his lower lip by accident. But it caused a smile and then his tongue was stroking against hers and she was pulling herself as close to him as she could and yeah.
It was better than perfect; it was real.
When Felicity finally broke away, she managed to say, albeit a bit breathlessly, “That may have been longer than five minutes.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he said, his breath as uneven as hers. “Are we back in our universe now?”
Felicity nodded. “But this universe still has popcorn and westerns.”
“And Twizzlers?”
“And Twizzlers.”
“Well, lead the way, Hildy,” he said, his smile easy and his tone light.
Felicity winked at him and led him out of the foundry, leaving pocket universes and bows and arrows behind them for the evening.
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no subject
Date: 2013-12-11 12:47 am (UTC)That was perfect. I so want Thea and Felicity having a mall day now.
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Date: 2013-12-11 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-12 03:56 am (UTC)But every so often I think to myself, "Oh Walter, you're wonderful, in a loathsome sort of way." :)
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Date: 2013-12-12 05:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-12 04:08 am (UTC)Plus this line: "but if you think I’m the kind of person who can change the channels on Bette Davis, well then, you just don’t know me at all.” Probably the best thing I've read all day. *grin*
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Date: 2013-12-12 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-12 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-12 06:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-13 05:36 pm (UTC)