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olicitysecretsanta · 5 years

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Trapped

A gift by @leuska for @hope-for-olicity

This has to be the worst Christmas Eve ever. Not that she minds that it’s Christmas Eve. No, that’s just the icing on the whole fracking cake.

Her back hurts. Her left hip throbs uncomfortably, courtesy of the massive cabinet currently pinning her down. It’s just so damn heavy. She had already tried to shift it off of herself multiple times to no avail. The heavy cow just wouldn’t budge an inch. Not even enough to relieve the pain of the metal edge cutting into her skin across the underside of her ribs. She doesn’t know how long she lies there. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. She’s long since lost track of time.

Felicity’s trapped.

The chill of the stone floor doesn’t help, sending unpleasant shivers up her spine. But Felicity can’t bring herself to worry about the chill in that moment, because she has a more immediate problem.

The fire.

She has yet to see the flames; but she can hear them, somewhere above her on the ground floor, cracking merrily, slowly but surely making their way down to her.

The walls and beams of the building above groan before falling eerily silent again. Darkness envelops her and Felicity tries not to succumb to the crippling hopelessness and fear that had been creeping up on her ever since the first crackle of the flames.

No one knows she’s down here. She could die here and no one would find her body for days.

Well...Perhaps that’s a little melodramatic. And probably not true. Laurel knows. But she wouldn’t be much good to Felicity if she happened to be in a similar predicament, somewhere a floor or two above her, also trapped, seriously injured, or even worse, dead.

She hates the darkness of the basement. She hates darkness, period. Even as a child, she would sleep with a lamp on, and did so until well into her teens. But the electricity is gone, courtesy of the fire.

She wishes suddenly for her menorah. She doesn’t care how ridiculous the thought is. It would’ve brought light.

She had celebrated Hanukkah this year, if only because her mother had pestered her about it. She had lit the candles, done the rituals, all alone in her small apartment, and yet, didn’t feel any more enlightened nor spiritually illuminated, nor anything else that one was supposed to feel during as a result of such ceremonies.

She could really do with some light now though, spiritual or otherwise.

Because with the way things are looking just now, Felicity Smoak is going to die on Christmas Eve in a dark, dingy basement, struck down by a cabinet whilst trying to troubleshoot CNRI’s recent server issues.

Life is indeed not fair.

Felicity’s chest hurts, but it has nothing to do with the dust and debris she is lying in. A tight fist of fear and regret closes around her throat and heart.

She doesn’t want to die. Not yet. Not like this.

A single tear slips from the corner of her eye, disappearing into her hairline, causing a tickling sensation to run through her.

This is it. This is how her lonely existence ends at mere 23 years of age. Another statistic of young people tragically dying before their time. Millenials doing it again: killing safety in IT jobs.

A sound comes from above her, but this time, it’s not the building groaning as it burns on its less-than-stable support beams. No, this sound is deliberately and distinctly man-made. Someone or something is banging against the door to the basement, trying to get inside. Then she hears the voice.

“Hello? Is anybody down there?!”

Oh, God, yes. YES!

“Y-yea, I am…” Felicity croaks, her voice a feeble cough cracking through her body, dust filling her lungs. She gives another mighty cough before trying again, voice stronger this time.

“Help! I am down here! I am trapped down here!”

There is a moment of silence, nothing but the groaning of the building that’s about to collapse on top of her, accompanied by the ominous crackle of the fire. She starts to think she’s imaged the whole thing, wished the voice into existence. Then:

“Just hold on—stay calm—I am coming down!” the voice calls through the still closed metal door that she can hear is being attacked by something heavy from upstairs.

“Not gonna be a problem,” Felicity murmurs to herself, her head flopping back to the concrete, her body once again wracked with coughs.

The door above her suddenly bursts open, a ray of light spilling down the stairs to where she’s trapped.

She would smirk at the trite nature of the words which come to mind – and then there was light – were she not trapped, tired, hurting and so very scared.

Instead, she tries to crane her neck, see the person hurrying down, but with the way she is pinned, it’s just her luck that her back is to the stairs. All she can do is listen as a heavy pair of boots clomp down the stairs, their echo bouncing off the walls of the basement as well as Felicity’s skull. Despite the inharmonious thunk of the sound, it sounds like music to her ears.

“Okay miss, I am here,” says a masculine voice and Felicity squeezes her eyes tightly shut as a ray of light from a strong, heavy-duty flashlight hits her face.

There is movement above her and she squints when the beam slips from her face and hits the floor. A black and yellow blur flashes in front of her eyes. She hears the flashlight clatter to the floor and it bathes the room in light shadows.

The quick transition from lying unmoving in the dark to sudden light and movement is more than a bit disconcerting, but Felicity fights to adapt, wracking her brain to make some sense of the situation. She wonders if this is all just a figment of her shock-riddled imagination.

“Hold on, I am going to try and lift this a little so you can wiggle out.”

Yellow and black flashes again and she finally puts it all together. A firefighter. Of course. Who else?

And a pretty strong one, too, if the grunts and groans coming from him are any indication as the man tries to shift the cabinet off of her. Suddenly, the weight lifts from her hips and she can move again.

“Can you–“ a heavy groan, “–maneuver yourself out?” the Hulk of a man grunts, holding the cabinet an inch or two above her.

Awed, Felicity takes her first free breath; then forces her mind to take a quick inventory of her body. Her hip and legs are prickling with pins and needles shooting down to her toes as proper blood circulation resumes, but nothing feels too severely damaged.

“Ye-es,” Felicity stammers. “I think so.”

She lifts her body to her elbows and pulls back, slowly and painstakingly shuffling herself out from underneath the cabinet.

“Just don’t let it fall on me again,” she whimpers, the words escaping her mouth on their own when she sees the man’s arms shake with the exertion, sweat running down his face.

“I won’t,” he bites out through clenched teeth. She absolutely believes him.

It takes longer than she expected, but once her legs are free, she hastily pulls the rest of her body out and draws her feet underneath herself so the man can let the cabinet fall to the ground with a grinding crash.

For a moment, Felicity just sits there, gawking up at her savior, still in awe of the man who just single handedly helped her out from the death trap that would have buried her alive.

And boy, upon closer inspection, he is one fine specimen of a savior. A hunk of a savior, her mom would say.

The firefighter’s uniform is bulky on his fit frame, hiding the finer contours of his body, but Felicity can still see that he is tall and broad. Her eyes seize him from head to toe, her mouth slightly agape. When her gaze falls to the ground, she spots his helmet he must have pulled down while heaving the cabinet off of her, and Felicity now has the perfect view of him panting and wiping his sweaty brow with one huge glowed hand. And if his body looks massive and strong, it definitely doesn’t take away anything from the man’s handsome face.

The firefighter gives one final sigh before directing his eyes at her, stepping closer and oh boy, is he even more handsome up close.

“Are you okay, miss? Are you hurt?” he asks urgently as he crouches down to her, his face coming impossibly close.

Even in the flickering light, she notices that his eyes are blue. Impossibly blue.

Wow.

They are still shrouded in dimness, the only two sources of light coming from the flames upstairs and the beam of his flashlight.

Yet she can still see that his eyes are a very distinctive blue. Dark brown hair, angular broad jaw deliciously peppered with stubble. Unfairly handsome, indeed.

And very concerned for her, obviously.

“Lady, are you hurt? Can you stand?”

Lady. Now that sounds super weird. Shaking her head like a dog, Felicity forces herself to concentrate on the question.

“I don’t think so…” she murmurs and almost panics when the man reaches for her, before realizing he is just trying to help her stand.

“Time to find out,” he murmurs in a deep, caring voice and Felicity realizes that it’s a very nice murmur. And what the hell is wrong with her? Before she can finish the thought, however, she is standing, half on her own, half supported by the man.

“You good?”

It’s that damn sexy murmur again, so close to her ear now that it makes her jump in surprise.

“Ye-yes.” She stammers, a shiver running down her spine. She takes a step back from him, trying to find her center.

“Wonderful, because we really need to get out before the whole building collapses,” he says urgently and she nods, the reality of their situation crashing back down to her.

It started with Laurel Lance’s call, begging Felicity for a Christmas Eve favor – a Christmas Eve miracle, Laurel called it. Then the sudden explosion and subsequent fire. The blast had shaken the whole building, causing a heavy cabinet to turn over, effectively trapping her.

“Hey,” a gentle voice brings her back from her spiraling thoughts, a gloved hand closing around her arm and squeezing reassuringly. “Don’t be scared. I’m here to help you. What’s your name?”

“Fe-Felicity.”

“Felicity. That’s a nice name.”

She likes the way he says her name.

“Can you breathe for me?”

Those intense blue eyes are on hers again, urging her on as she steadily takes one breath after another, long enough to stop the ringing in her ears.

“Okay,” she manages to bite out through clenched teeth. “I’m good.”

She isn’t. But the groaning of the building above her doesn’t really leave her any choice but to be ready and face whatever awaits them above.

The man gives a short nod, then crouches down to pick up his dropped flashlight and helmet. Pondering something for a moment, he makes a quick decision and instead puts the helmet on Felicity’s head.

“Here. It’s dangerous up there,” he explains with a small smile.

The helmet is heavy and dwarfs her head. Still. Everything Felicity can think about is that the man has a really nice smile. Which only serves as clear proof of how mentally unstable she currently is, swooning about the handsomeness of her rescuer instead of the very real danger of her dying in the next couple of minutes.

The man silently directs her to follow closely behind him before he starts walking up the stairs again.

“My God, what happened up there?” Felicity asks with a gasp, because now that they are half up the stairs, she can actually see all the damage lying behind the door to CNRI’s server basement.

“We don’t know yet,” the man replies, not turning or stopping to give his explanation. “But considering the part of town we’re in, probably a gas leak that caused an explosion. It doesn’t take much where these particular buildings are concerned. They are old and not very well maintained. It actually, sadly, happens quite often.”

They reach the top of the stairs and the sight in front of her as she peaks around the man’s broad back makes Felicity freeze with shock.

What greets her eye can’t be described any other way than utter wreckage. The CNRI building – or what’s left of it – looks like it’s been bombed in air strikes. There is rubble everywhere, multiple small fires crackling all around the place, concrete pillars that used to support the building not an hour ago now cracked or outright ripped apart, some completely blown from their fundamentals. There are burning documents, computers and furniture everywhere and considering what lays ahead of her, it looks like a very deadly obstacle course. Or simply a death trap, there is no way around it.

Felicity gulps again, taking an involuntary step back before she remembers not to move any further so she doesn’t fall down the stairs again. Her rescuer turns to her, a silent question in his eyes. Maybe this is the time to lay her cards on the table and admit she isn’t much of an athletic person. Or, you know, not athletic at all, period. Oh, who is she kidding, she only bought that stationary bike because she was feeling guilty for not exercising in the first place. The very same bicycle that now serves as a fancy coat rack.

So no. There is absolutely no way she can make her way through this.

“Felicity?” the man questions, and her eyes fall shut with embarrassment and shame.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispers, barely over the crackling of the fire.

“You can.” The man says with conviction Felicity doesn’t feel.

“I’m scared,” she involuntarily whimpers, her cheeks growing warm at the admission. Here he is, a firefighter ready to risk his own life to save hers and she is stalling out of fear and insecurity. By now, the man sure must regret finding her alive in the first place.

“Hey, don’t be scared, Felicity. I am here to help you. I know it looks bad, but you are not alone and I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

She already loves him. Like not loves loves him, not like being in love with him, but loves how wonderful of a rescuer he is. And she wants to believe him. Actually, Felicity realizes as she looks back into those gorgeous blue eyes of his, she does believe him. At least she believes the part where he won’t willingly let anything happen to her. As for herself and her own abilities…

“Okay,” she nods and takes a deep breath before she realizes what a stupid mistake that is. Her lungs instantly fill with hot smoke and dust, wrecking her body with a violent fit of coughs causing her mangled hip and side to burn with searing pain.

Frack! Frack, frackity-frack!

“Here.”

Something presses into her hand, a cloth the man must have wet with water.

“Press this over your nose and mouth.”

The Hunk – cause yeah, she needs a name for him, even if only in her own head, and it is the very first description that originally came to her mind. Well, no, actually it was Hulk, but that nickname is just stupid, because he isn’t mean nor green nor violent, so Hunk will have to do. The Hunk is now looking an her urgently, his eyes still gentle but more insistent.

“We really need to keep going, Felicity. You ready?”

She is not. God, she so is not. But she bravely nods anyway.

He takes her hand and starts directing them through the maze that was once the cubicle-ed offices of CNRI. Only now, the space looks nothing like what Felicity remembers.

Using one hand to press the wet cloth against her face while the other clutches the gloved hand of her rescuer for dear life, Felicity stumbles behind him as they painstakingly and slowly make their way through the rubble. It’s not easy, because they have to crouch underneath fallen pillars, and crawl over overturned furniture, chunks of blown apart walls or walk around the small fires that burn everywhere.

The environment is also very hot. And not only because of the proximity of her handsome rescuer, who is definitely a solid ten on the hotness scale, if Felicity does say so herself. No, it’s the smoke and dust and fire that are making her eyes water and lungs seize, her abused body tiredly stumbling behind the man whose step never falters.

They are proceeding slowly but safely, inching towards the door where Felicity hopes the exit lies. In the smoke and dust and rubble, she is absolutely lost as to which room exactly they are currently walking across.

Making a short stop in a small niche in the doorway between two rooms, her firefighter silently offers her the bottle of water before he takes out his radio, reaching out while she drinks hastily, the water a welcoming balm against her parched throat.

“Queen here. I found the woman. We are on our way out now.”

There is a short moment of static crackling before a deep rumble of a voice responds. “Queen, you son of a bitch. You better get your ass safely out of there or I will kill you myself. Waiting on standby. Boys are trying to contain the fire from outside. Make it quick though, the building doesn’t have much time.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, the man – the Hunk – is done and once again looking expectedly towards her. She gives a slow nod and he silently takes her hand again as they make their way towards the next door in what feels like a sick game of walking through a minefield.

They are close, so close in fact, Felicity can almost feel the cool draft of wind coming from somewhere in front of her when it all goes straight to hell.

The ceiling in the very last room they need to cross caves right in front of their eyes, and the Hunk barely has time to jump back and turn towards her, roughly showing Felicity back and against the doorframe they just came through, shielding her as huge chunks plaster, wood and concrete come raining down onto them.

It’s sheer luck they weren’t too deep in the room yet, otherwise they would have been buried alive.

There’s a little break in the collapsing and before she knows what’s happening, Felicity is pushed backward further into the previous room, further away from the longed-for exit.

Somewhere behind her, she can hear the deep male voice from before call to them, repeating ‘Queen, Queen’, which doesn’t make any sense at all, before she realizes the Hunk is not hot at her heels anymore but cursing and diving back into the caving room. And that’s when it clicks to her; the radio.

He’s lost the radio.

She just manages to turn back and grab him by the arm, yanking him back violently, surprised at her own reflexes as well as strength, but she manages to pull him back just in time for the room he was just about to enter again into completely caving in on itself, debris of several floors crashing down with deafening racket. And it doesn’t end there, the whole statics of the building is compromised now and there is no way the building can remain standing anymore.

“Back!” Felicity shouts, orders really, once again surprising herself by her decisiveness. “We need to get back to that basement before it all comes crashing down on us!”

Before she knows, the Hunk is already pushing at her from behind, urging her to move on as she speeds through the rooms they so carefully maneuvered before, not caring about possibly catching her clothes on fire or scratching her hands against obstacles standing in their way anymore, only going forward, always forward, running until they reach the door to the basement again. Without thinking, she flies down the stairs and is once again back where it all started.

That’s when the building above them completely gives way, all three floors pancaking on themselves. The sound is deafening. Felicity has never heard anything as ear-splitting and utterly scary in her life. The ceilings and walls crash down and rubble flies down the stairs of the basement, effectively burying them alive.

Felicity stands frozen, just at the bottom the stairs where rubble and debris still falls, but she is unable to move, paralyzed by fear. She feels herself being swooped up just as a large chunk of concrete lands at the spot she’s just been standing at and she is pushed under the metal stairs and pulled against a solid chest, strong arms enveloping her as everything else around them collapses.

She clutches at the Hunks uniform, her face against his throat, absolutely certain they are about to die any second, squashed to a bloody pulp by tons and tons of concrete and construction material.

But death never comes.

It could have been moments, it could have been hours, but finally, there is just silence, darkness, and the heavy breathing of two very much alive people.

She feels movement, then sees a flicker and the room is suddenly bathed in the harsh beam of a flashlight cutting through whirls of dust. The Hunk is directing his flashlight towards her even as she is still cowering in his arms, a concerned look on his face.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice ragged and slightly out of breath. When she doesn’t answer, he asks more urgently, addressing her directly by name to drill his point across, “Felicity, are you hurt!?”

She shakes her head against him.

“No.” It’s all she is able to mutter before her whole body begins to shake, her teeth rattling.

“Y-you?” For some reason, it is paramount to her that he is okay too.

“Fine,” the Hunk sighs, finally pulling back and away from her. She nearly whimpers.

Instead, Felicity follows the flashlight’s light as it dances around the room and bounces off the walls, or at least what’s left of them. Half the space is filled with rubble and debris, the metal stairs practically the only thing that saved them from having their heads smashed by falling chunks of construction material.

What’s left free is a space of a couple of feet that stretches from underneath the stairs to – ironically – the very cabinet Felicity has been trapped under earlier.

This is…it’s bad. Very bad.

The Hunk gets to his feet and makes a quick scoop around the room, assessing the damage, as if trying to find some miraculous way out of here. Without having to look herself, Felicity knows with absolute certainty that they are effectively trapped. The Hunk must have reached the same conclusion, because his shoulders sag. To his credit though, once he turns back to her, he’s straightened them out again while speaking in a steady, calm voice.

“Don’t worry. My colleagues know we are here. They will come searching for us.”

She really wants to share his enthusiasm. Only, she is a very practical and rational person. And she knows things aren’t that easy.

“Only your colleagues think we got smashed to a pulp by the collapsing building.”

The Hunk shakes his head disapprovingly. “No, they heard we were okay when I radioed us in.”

“Yes, but that was before the building fell in on itself like a damn house of cards,” she counter-reasons. “And you lost your radio.” It’s only sheer luck she doesn’t say ‘drop’.

“I know,” the Hunk says, tightness for the very first time entering his voice and posture as he lays his hands on his hips, his breathing growing heavier. He is agitated, but that doesn’t stop Felicity from voicing the obvious problem.

“I am just saying. When your colleagues try to call again, all they will get is radio silence. Which to them will appear as if we--”

“Could you maybe tone it down with the pessimism? I am trying to keep a cool head here, but your pinpointing of everything that’s wrong in not really helping,” the man hisses, shooting her a disbelieving glare.

Its intensity makes Felicity flinch. “I’m sorry,” she utters, bringing her knees to her chest, trying to ignore how her eyes, lungs as well as half her body burn and hurt.

“It’s just that when I am stressed, I talk,” she squeezed out through clenched teeth before nervously picking a loose threat of her already completely destroyed skirt. With a start, she realizes she isn’t wearing the helmet anymore. Duh. Must have lost it somewhere while running back for cover.

The Hunk gives a heavy sigh, air leaving his lungs in a whoosh.

“No, Felicity,” he tells her in a surprisingly gentle tone. “It’s me who’s sorry.”

He takes the few steps, circling back to where she is sitting pressed with her back against the wall underneath the stairs. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. That was unhelpful and very unprofessional of me. I apologize.”

She only nods in response, not trusting her voice just yet.

The Hunk puts the flashlight between them on its rear end, its light hitting the ceiling and casting the room in a greyish half-light. He proceeds by unzipping his heavy fireproof jacked, pushing it from his shoulders with a wince before plopping down to the ground close to her in nothing but a black shirt (and suspenders!), gingerly laying back against the same concrete wall but keeping a respectable distance of a couple feet between them.

“Are you hurt?” Felicity asks, noticing the way he unsuccessfully tries to mask his discomfort.

“Just bruises and abrasions,” he brushes her off. When she silently pins him with a look, he sighs and elaborates. “When the ceiling came down in the last room and I pushed you against the doorway, some of the falling debris caught me on the back.”

Felicity thinks that’s a very nice way to put how he literally wrapped himself around her to shield her from the falling pieces of ceiling. She can’t dwell on it however, as his next words knock the breath out of her.

“You saved my life back there,” he says with a gentle smile. “Thank you.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. But for the life of her, Felicity can’t come up with what he means by that.

So the only thing she manages in response in a stupid, “What?”

“Back in the room, when I dropped my radio. I dived back for it. It was a stupid, instinctive reaction. You pulled me back in time not to be crushed. Thank you for that.”

Felicity’s cheeks grow warm. She didn’t think about it like that, not at that time. It doesn’t even make sense to her like that now. She didn’t think what she was doing, she just reacted.

She clears her throat, feeling slightly uncomfortable to be put into the spotlight.

“So. Since it looks like we are going to be here for a while, what do I call you? Mr. Sexy Firefighter is kind of long.”

Her eyes fall shut. She can’t believe those words actually left her stupid, stupid mouth. “Not that being sexy qualifies you to be a good firefighter. Which you obviously are, though. Since you rescued me. You’re sexy too, but that’s beside the point here,” she heavily gulps down, squeezing her eyes tightly. How can she be so devastatingly embarrassing even in a life-threating situation like this? “I just mean that I would really like to know your name, if that’s okay with you. Since you already know mine, it would only be fair.”

She dares to open her eyes then and the small smile playing over his lips in the dim light almost makes her embarrassment worth it. Almost.

“Oliver. You can call me Oliver, Felicity.”

Oliver. She tries it out, likes how it rolls on her tongue. And oh my god, what is wrong with her? They are fighting for their lives here and she is drooling about a sexy firefighter’s name. A sexy firefighter who sure as hell has some hot lawyer chic like Laurel Lance waiting at home for him to carve up the Christmas turkey and scoop up the stuffing.

That puts a damper on her absolutely inappropriate thoughts. Because there won’t be any turkey carving tonight. For either of them. Not that she has any plans or a turkey or a hot boyfriend waiting at home for her. Nope. But he might. And instead, he is stuck here with her.

“Thank you, by the way. For coming and saving me from underneath that cabinet. And then trying to get us out,” she says in barely a whisper.

“It’s my job,” The Hunk-- Oliver shrugs. Like it’s no big deal. When it’s everything to another human being. Everything to her.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I am grateful. I mean, look at you! Good looking and saving lives on Christmas Eve. It doesn’t get any better than that. Sorry for that, by the way. Ruining your Christmas. Surely, you girlfriend or family will be pissed I took you away from them on such an important evening.”

“Actually, you didn’t ruin anything. I am on shift today as well as tomorrow. Well, not anymore. If we get out tonight, I’m sure they’ll order me to take tomorrow off.”

That catches her by surprise. And sure enough, her big mouth runs away with her once again.

“So…No Mrs. Sexy Firefighter waiting for that broad chest with a six pack back at home? That’s kind of a waste, if you ask me. Not that you’re asking me. Or that I’ve seen your chest. I just assumed. You know, how you picked up that cabinet all by yourself? That was really impressive. And also indicative of the fact that you must indeed have a pretty neat six pack in order to do that.”

It was his answering breathless chuckle that made her realize how very uncomfortable her words have been making him. Well, that made two of them. Only, she was the idiot who couldn’t stop them from leaving her mouth.

“Sorry. Again,” she murmured in embarrassment, “It’s probably the lack of oxygen talking. I don’t usually ramble like this. Actually no, who am I kidding,” she sighed unhappily. “It’s exactly what I do. It’s my very own specialty; a superpower, really. And my personal kind of hell. Duh, maybe that’s why I have so little friends. I guess it must be pretty hard to hang out with a person like me with her thoughts completely scattered all over the place all the time. Talk getting awkward on the go. Anytime, anywhere. I can make the both of us feel uncomfortable in no time. Anytime. So I will shut up now. No reason to waste precious oxygen on my rambles. Which will end. Right now.”

She does fall silent after that, hiding her face against her knees, still not able to believe she actually unloaded all that on her fancy rescuer. Felicity doesn’t dare to look at him, not interested to see the embarrassment on his face. Or pity, or annoyance. That’s probably the top three emotions she gets from people whenever they catch her during one of her nervous rambles. She hates this personal trait of herself and yet for the love of her, she can’t change it. The more she tries, the more awkward and mortifying she gets.

Been there, done that. It’s how it is with her. She’s made her peace with that. But she doesn’t have to subject innocent bystanders to this horrible habit of hers. And definitely not such nice ones as hot men trying to rescue her from a burning building and endangering themselves in the process.

Or just one hot and nice man. She feels bad for him. He might die here because of her. They might both die here. Handsome and skilled as he is, his death would surely be a crime against humanity. She doesn’t want that on her conscience.

But she manages at least one thing. She stays silent. Doesn’t need to incriminate herself any further. Definitely doesn’t want to embarrass either of them any more than she already has.

Her cheeks are aflame, eyes burning. She tells herself it’s because of the exertion, smoke and dust.

“How did you know I was down here anyway? How did you know where to look?” She utters after a while, unable to stand the stretching, uncomfortable silence any longer. Well, maybe it was just her. Maybe he was perfectly comfortable with the silence.

Felicity always hated silences with a vengeance. She always felt the compulsive need to fill them. With whatever happened to come across her mind. With her track record, she always managed to fill them with the worst possible type of word-vomit. At least this was something sensible to ask.

Maybe they could even have a casual conversation like two normal people. She desperately needed to take away the edge of her fear that neither of them would make it out of this stupid basement alive.

“Laurel Lance told me,” Oliver replies after a while, effectively cutting through her spiraling thoughts. Her mouth shapes into a perfect ’O’ before the meaning of his words fully registers.

“Oh! Oh my god, Laurel! Is she okay?!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Oliver is perplexed.

And no. It’s not the fact that a rescue mission has gone so terribly wrong. That’s just the way his work is, risk of being hurt or dying on the job comes with the territory. So it’s not the fact that he is stuck in a basement low on oxygen in a building that had previously collapsed onto him with a woman he was supposed to rescue only to be rescued by her in return. Not even the fact that he might not make it out of here alive tonight is the reason for his shock.

What has put his whole system into a state of utter bewilderment is the woman sitting just a couple of feet next to him. A woman that utterly baffles and intrigues him at the same time.

And that’s the thing. She shouldn’t. It’s what he does every single day. He saves people from the most dangerous or risky situations. Sometimes it’s injured people, sometimes it’s hysteric people, sometimes he has to deal with utterly stupid people (like those two drunk college kids who got stuck trying to climb down a chimney, Santa-style). He rescues very badly hurt people, people with deep wounds or missing limbs, people shouting in agony from terrible burns, people crying because they saw their loved ones die in front of their own eyes. He’s seen it all.

And still, seeing that young woman helplessly trapped under the heavy cabinet, utterly alone waiting in the dark to possibly die, on Christmas Eve no less, in a dingy server basement of a non-profit organization’s collapsing building – it did something to him. Moved something in him it shouldn’t have.

Yet it was cruel somehow, that this would possibly have been the way she would’ve died if he hadn’t done what he’d done. It was in times like these when Oliver really appreciated his job. This was the very reason he did it. Why he put his life on the line.

He’d quickly run down the stairs and heaved the cabinet off her, relieved that she was in a state to cooperate. Once free, he prepared himself for possible hysterics and subsequent gentle persuasion, a lot of convincing and the possibility of having to somehow carry her out himself if she proved unable to follow him outside through the wreckage on her own. But despite her injuries, fear and apprehension, she cooperated flawlessly.

That was something he’d appreciated very much, although it was neither unique nor unheard of. Different people coped in different ways. She was one of the tougher ones, apparently, despite expressing her fear to him. It was the fact that in spite of her fear she followed his instructions to a T that told Oliver she underestimated herself, big time.

What truly surprised him was her saving his own life a mere fifteen minutes later by making the smart, logical decision of not letting him leap after his lost radio. It was a rookie mistake that Oliver still couldn’t wrap his head around making in the first place. Such mistakes usually cost you your life. And he knew that had he been with anyone else, he would be dead by now, buried under the rubble.

So much for his professional pride.

Then she did another amazing thing, in a split decision that spoke of a very sharp mind. Once again, she’d saved both of their lives. Truth was, it had been Felicity’s idea to return to the basement, which was, in fact, the safest and only place they could possibly survive the building collapsing.

It could still cave under the pressure of three stories, but given the fact that it hadn’t yet proved Felicity’s decision had been right.

Once again, she mesmerized him when she didn’t even acknowledge how she’d saved their lives twice in the course of five minutes. Instead, she‘d rambled her way through their rather unorthodox introductions, something Oliver suspected she did quite a lot. A quality – according to her – not many people enjoyed. He could understand why. And yet, he didn’t mind it, not coming from her. She was genuine. Constantly full of surprises. Fascinating.

This girl – woman – Felicity. She really was quite something. And despite knowing it to be very, very unprofessional, Oliver Queen was very much intrigued.

And then he’d told her about Laurel being the one who’d tipped him off, and despite being buried alive under tons of rubble and concrete herself, no doubt hurting from the injuries caused by the cabinet she’d been trapped under, Oliver can still see how affected she is by the prospect of Laurel Lance being hurt.

Therefore, he hurries to reassure her, to give her at least something to bring her a little peace of mind.

“Yeah, Laurel’s fine. She got out in time, looked relatively unscathed.”

He doesn’t tell her about the gash across Laurel’s forehead or the blood trickling down her throat. Doesn’t elaborate on how the she’d looked like a mirage, a ghost, running from the burning building, clothes and face white as a sheet covered in dust and plaster, hands trembling and hair disheveled, a wild look on her face as her eyes sought him out.

They’d always had a connection, he and Laurel, back during the time they’d dated, on and off and on again. Despite it being a long time ago, her uncanny ability to always seek him out even amongst a crowd always stayed. He never could do that. Never even cared to try, if he was being honest.

But Laurel’s always known.

“Ollie!”

Immediately, she’d crossed the space between them, her cries directed at him even as his other colleagues reached her first.

“Ollie, there’s still a woman in the building! You have to help her!”

She knew he didn’t need to hear more. That’s why she’d sought him out, specifically him. Laurel knew he wouldn’t think twice to rush in, knew his reckless nature would propel him into action where others would have hesitated. After all, it was one of the reasons why they’d split. Well, that, and the fact that he just hadn’t cared about her enough. However, that was a long time ago.

Still, Laurel knew Oliver wouldn’t hesitate. Maybe it was her karmic payback, using one of the things she hated most about him against him, though Oliver didn’t mind or dwell on it too much. The outcome was just the same for him, he would have gone no matter who’d told him there was somebody left inside. It was what he did. It was also the thing that made him one of the best and at the same time most dangerous men in his unit.

He liked it. He liked doing the risky thing, going places no one else dared to go. He liked feeling the rush of carrying a person, still alive, from a burning building. It was gratifying, sure. It was also absolutely daring and reckless as hell. He wouldn’t want to live his life any other way but it didn’t do him any favors with his superiors.

John Diggle was the only person able to handle him. To deal with the hot-headed side of him. He managed – to a certain degree – to reign in Oliver’s impulsive behavior, or so their superiors thought. Tonight was not one of those days. Oliver had gone in, not sparing his Captain – his boss and his friend – a second glance, even though he knew very well the structure of the building had been severely compromised and a further plan of action needed to be coordinated.

He knows Diggle will give him an earful for this, if he survives. Not for the fact that he tried to save someone. No, that would make him a hero in the public eye, Oliver already knew from so many brushes with death in the past.

The problem isn’t his drive to save someone, but his lack of discipline while doing so. There is a clear chain of command he blatantly disregards whenever it suits him. He doesn’t listen, doesn’t wait for backup, doesn’t talk strategy. He acts as he sees fit in moments like these. It doesn’t bode well with the Battalion Chief and Oliver knows it’s only thanks to Diggle that he still has a job.

One of these days, you will get yourself killed out there.

It’s what John keeps telling him, always angry and aggravated after whatever stunt he has just pulled. Oliver doesn’t particularly care about that thought. He never really had. Not if the alternative would be this woman dying here in agony and fear, alone in the dark. She still might die. But at least she won’t die alone.

Of course, Oliver hopes it won’t come to that. He is reckless and driven, not suicidal.

“Are you and Laurel friends?” he asks Felicity, willing to stop his dangerous train of thought. Felicity – he really likes the name – just shakes her head.

“No. I just do some work for CNRI.”

The rubble above them shifts, something in the ruins above them moaning dangerously. Felicity flinches before cowering in fear.

Oliver desperately wants to keep the conversation flowing, keep their mind of the sword of Damocles hanging above them. So he inquires further.

“What kind of work?”

Felicity shrugs. “Mainly system maintenance, installation of upgrades, checking the firewall, you know. Usual boring IT stuff. Sometimes,” she points to the back of the room where the corner of the now completely destroyed server is peaking from, “fixing server issues. Something tells me that one is beyond repair, though.” She huffs, and there is an annoyed lilt to her voice. “I spent over two hours working on that stupid thing and it’s all for naught.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Oliver’s mouth, but he tries to rein it in. It doesn’t seem fitting to smile in a situation like this.

“Again, sorry about all of this.” Felicity says, making a circling gesture with her hand. She tries to play it nonchalant, but Oliver can see the current situation weighing on her. “You just tried to help me. And now we are both stuck and might die here.”

Her voice shakes at the end and that’s when Oliver notices a couple of silent tears slipping down her cheeks. It makes his chest hurt. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s pulling his fire safe gloves off his hands so he can curl his fingers around her forearm in what he hopes is a soothing gesture.

“Felicity, hey. It’s not your fault, okay? We’re gonna be fine, you’ll see.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, but there is no conviction in her voice as she retreats even further into herself, her knees pulled tight to her chest, her body curled into a ball. He lets his hand drop, at a loss for how to comfort her. It takes a while before either of them speaks again.

“I know you said you’re on shift both, today as well tomorrow, so I didn’t ruin any Christmas plans for you,” she quietly states. “But I’m sure your family won’t be pleased when they find out that you are trapped under a collapsed building, possibly already—” she harshly stops herself from finishing that sentence.

He doesn’t know why he feels the need to reassure her that what happened today is not much different from what he does regularly. That people sometimes think he is on a suicide mission, with the way he leads his life, conducts his work. He just wants to make her feel better about the situation and the misplaced guilt she obviously feels for his being stuck with her.

“Nah,” he shrugs. “Even if I die tonight, trust me, not many people will shed a tear. See, I have what most people would call a bad reputation. Which is just a nice way to say that most of the time, they consider me a real dick.”

He flashes her a half-cocked smile, expecting her to give an indignated laugh or a roll of her eyes at his drama. She does neither, only studies him intensely. It makes him uncomfortable.

“That’s a horrible thing to say. Besides, I have a hard time believing that,” she argues. “I mean not the part about your reputation. For all I know, that could be perfectly true.”

Amused, Oliver raises an eyebrow and her brain finally seems to catch up to her mouth. Realizing how that must have sounded, she quickly hastens to elaborate. “I mean I hardly know you to be able the judge that. Maybe you are an awesome rescuer and firefighter but a dick of a person, making farting noises when your colleagues sit down or stealing their food from the fridge at work. God knows I’ve met plenty of such assholes in my days as a corporate IT girl. That said, I didn’t want to imply I think you are dick-”

She is rambling again. Oliver is surprised to realize he actually likes it. He isn’t just impartial to it anymore, he genuinely enjoys observing how her mouth runs away from her and how her statements snowball as she goes. It has an awkward yet endearing quality about it. It’s like she genuinely doesn’t have a filter. It makes her speak honestly. He’s always appreciated honesty and hated any kind of sugarcoating of the truth. But then, why is he doing the very same thing to her right now? Because, Oliver knows, he is sugarcoating. About himself. About why he is sitting here, with her, in a bubble of air left under three stories of collapsed glass and concrete, on Christmas Eve, not the least concerned about whether he lives or dies tonight. Why, if he dies tonight, there won’t be no big hole gaping in anybody’s heart.

“Both my parents are dead,” he blurts out of the blue. Felicity blinks, her mouth falling agape. Yeah, no wonder. Way to kill the mood. Not that there was any mood to begin with. But that’s what it basically comes down to. His voice is quiet when he continues, his eyes wandering away.

“I do have a sister. Thea. She’s younger than me, way younger. She only turned 20 a couple of months ago. I know she would miss me. But she lives with the constant knowledge that the day I won’t return from work might come. It comes with the territory. An occupational hazard, if you will. She would understand, would – hopefully – be proud I died trying to save another person. It sucks that it’s Christmas, cause it’s her favorite holiday and it’s been only the two of us for so long. But she has a fiancée now. A good guy in her life. She will be hurt, but she will make it.”

He doesn’t even realize when he slips up and transitions from hypothetical would to certain will. Maybe that says something about him. The certainty that he will die on this job one day not too far from now. He is glad Thea is settled. It makes it easier to lead the life he does, with no regrets.

He clears his throat. “I have a best friend, Tommy. He is a billionaire who is disgustingly rich and who loves to party, so he will probably throw a big bash in my name and hope to pick up some girls in the process,” it makes him smile, even as he hears Felicity gasp. That’s Tommy for you, but he doesn’t dare to look at her. He has no idea why he is telling her all this in the first place other than he feels like telling her. Like telling someone. Because maybe he won’t ever get a chance to do so again.

“The guys in my unit, they’re great. My Captain, John, he’s a true friend. They will mourn the loss of a brother and pay their respects. And then they’ll move on, get back to their own families with their daily day to day problems. It’s what we do.”

Oliver realizes he’s saying that quite a lot. It comes with the territory. The risk is part of the job. It’s to be expected. Suddenly, it sounds like an excuse, but he doesn’t want to analyze it too much, and merely clears his throat once again.

“What about you, Felicity? Who would you be leaving behind if we died tonight? Which we won’t. This is purely hypothetical,” he adds with a reassuring smile. “Any boyfriend who would build you a Taj Mahal?”

He doesn’t know what makes him ask that question. It’s extremely unprofessional, inappropriate on many different levels and borderline unethical. He just blurts it out. He’s fishing. That’s what it is, if he’s downright honest with himself. Despite the inappropriate comments and innuendos Felicity has made about him and his physique through the evening, Oliver still wants to make sure. That there is no wonderful, caring boyfriend waiting for her behind the red tape just outside. He doesn’t even fully understand why exactly he needs to hear that.

Maybe nearly dying is making him bold.

Maybe he wants to know if he even has a chance.

Whatever the reason, he regrets his audacity the moment he sees how his question hits her in an almost physical way, her hands resting on her knees curling into tight fists.

“I am sorry, Felicity,” He instantly apologizes, backtracking. “That was way out of line. When I told you I was a dick, I wasn’t exaggerating.”

Surprisingly, her lips twitch at that. “You really weren’t,” she huffs with amusement and he winces, knowing very well he earned that one. She sighs then, laying her head onto her knees, silently regarding him for long moments.

Oliver is puzzled. Not by her reaction, but by his own behavior this whole night. Nothing makes sense anymore. He’s a firefighter, for Christ’s sake. He is trained better than that. He should stay professional, assure her all is going to be okay and that they would make it. He could even talk about weather. Anything would fly but bringing up his dead parents or potential scared boyfriends due to his fishing for her private details he has absolutely no business asking about.

But nothing about their situation right now is conventional. And for once, Oliver doesn’t want to be the aloof professional, he doesn’t want to keep his distance from her. Doesn’t want to be the detached rescue worker you won’t ever see again. Quite the opposite, in fact. He feels a surprising pull to give and get more information about this woman he was brought together with by sheer chance. He can’t explain it other than that she genuinely intrigues him.

He can’t help but think back when she claimed she had no friends. He can’t wrap his head around that one.

She is remarkable. Adorable, charming and smart. Kind of quirky, yet utterly fascinating. And beautiful, in spite of her face currently smudged by smoke and dust, cheeks stained with tear tracks and rundown mascara. There is an element of innocence and vulnerability about her, something he’s only ever seen in his sister. She is funny, too. Quick witted, cheeky even. And yet, there is also something fragile and broken about her, something that calls to his own emptiness.

She has managed to make him smile, even under these dire conditions, more than once. Which is no small accomplishment. And Oliver feels like under any other circumstances, he would most definitely want to be her friend. Maybe more.

She carries both a lightness and heaviness about herself at the same time. And it intrigues him to no end.

Felicity sighs again before opening her mouth to speak, but he beats her to it.

“No, please. You don’t have to say a thing. You don’t owe me anything.”

She regards him a while longer, mulling over his words, her eyes analyzing as she regards him. Her silent scrutiny makes him slightly uncomfortable. “I know I don’t owe you anything. But strangely enough, I want to. You shared something personal with me, even though you didn’t have to. And I feel like extending that courtesy.”

He nods in acceptance, yet is barely able to breathe.

Then, the words spill from her lips like a confession. “The truth is, my situation is probably even bleaker than yours. I am the daughter of a single mom living in Vegas. No immediate family, no siblings, no boyfriend or close friends. Which is usually fine with me.”

“Usually?”

“Yeah. I am kind of used to being on my own. It’s sort of par for the course of being me,” she admits, shrugging casually.

It hurts him to hear her say that. Even he, Oliver Queen, the womanizing and reckless firefighter, is not completely alone in the world. He has a sweet, loving sister, a handful of close friends and the brothers from his unit. The way Felicity talks about her life, however, truly sounds lonely. There is a difference between liking being alone – which he can absolutely understand – and being lonely. And Felicity, no matter how she tries to play it, sounds the latter. From what she tells him, outside of her mom, there is literally no one in her life. How can she be fine with that? How could anyone be fine with that?

“My mom…Oh god, my mom,” she suddenly sobs. “I can’t even think about what would happen to my mom if anything happens to me. She would be crushed. She lives vicariously through me, not that there’s much exciting going on, but I am the only one she’s got.”

Her distress grows and tears flood her eyes again before they start to fall. “God, who would even tell her? They would have to track her down and it might take a couple of days for someone to even figure out how to contact her.”

It’s perfectly possible. Still, it shocks Oliver to the core. His partner, his team know where he is. Despite working, he knows that Thea will call him tomorrow. Actually, she will call and call and call until he picks up just to wish him “Merry Christmas, you grouchy, anti-social jerk! I love you, big brother. I know you are working, but at least stop by and give your little sister her well-earned present!” Thea’s customary passive-aggressive yet still very loving Christmas calls always make him smile. It is a certainty he can always count on.

Felicity, however, obviously doesn’t have a single person in her life outside her mom to even notice if she’d be gone. That’s just not right. That shouldn’t even be possible.

“Wouldn’t your mom miss you for Christmas?” Oliver asks tentatively, hoping to offer a possibility she hasn’t considered yet to make her logical conclusion less depressing. After all, everybody gets calls from their relatives on Christmas – wished as well as unsolicited alike. “I am sure she will try to call you tomorrow.”

“Nah.” Felicity sniffs, shaking her head. “We are Jewish. Don’t really celebrate Christmas. That’s why Laurel called me in the first place. She knew I had nothing better to do during the holidays.”

Oliver is well aware it was him who had chased and pressed this heavy topic. He realizes now how utterly unprepared he was to hear the answers. He desperately wants to take it back now, or at least make Felicity feel a little better. If the ceiling caves and crushes them right now, he wants her to have a smile on her face. Or at least not cry because he made her.

His voice is steady when he reaches out to cup her shoulder in what he hopes is a soothing gesture. “We are not dead yet, Felicity. You will call your mom tomorrow.” He’s never wished to speak the truth like he does in that moment.

Felicity sniffs and shrugs her shoulders, seemingly unimpressed by his pep talk. He flounders for something, anything, to say.

“At least it pays well working through holidays, right?”

She barks a small laugh at that. Score!

“Nope,” she says, accentuating the ‘p’ while shaking her head. “CNRI is part of my pro-bono work. Since, you know, CNRI as a non-profit is not known for its vast resources. So I offer them my expertise. Feels like the least I can do to help the people who in turn actually help the less fortunate.”

She shrugs again, like it’s no big deal, like everybody does it, lifting her head from her knees at last and letting it fall back against the wall, her eyes momentarily closing.

Oliver is beyond impressed. Literally struck speechless. Beautiful, funny, smart, and with a giant, compassionate heart. She appears almost too perfect. How come it has to be a stupid gas explosion for the two of them to meet?

Not realizing his amazement, Felicity quietly admits, grumpy annoyance entering her voice. “You wanna know what sucks the most about today?” She sighs dramatically. “I am starving. Literally starving. All I had today was my regular coffee in the morning and a stupid meager salad for lunch because I felt like I could use something light.” She makes air quotations around the last word. “Let me tell you, this is the most brutal reminder of life’s too short. Next time, I will go straight for the dessert cart.”

She pouts in honest disappointment and he finds it so adorable, he’s a goner. For now though, he plays along.

“Okay. Despite the threat of being considered a mean dick again, what I’d like to know is this: if you could, what food would you choose to eat right now?”

Without missing a heartbeat, Felicity perks up, her eyes shining with longing, a dreamy gaze on her face. “Burgers! With fries. And a strawberry milkshake. With ketchup. Loads of ketchup and mayo and oh, oh! Onion rings!”

He scrunches his nose in order not to laugh outright at her enthusiasm, because he really doesn’t want to make her self-conscious despite finding her obvious love for burgers adorable.

And okay, seriously, what has this woman done to him? Since when does he even have the word adorable in his vocabulary?

Felicity scowls at him, misinterpreting his grimace to hold his laughter for disapprovement.

“Let me guess. You are the type of guy who has a kale smoothie for breakfast and steam cooked salmon with peas for dinner.”

When he doesn’t reply but merely chuckles at her in response, she takes it as a confirmation, glowering at him. “Of course you are. A person with a physique like yours surely views eating a burger as a crime against humanity. Or at least against their abs.”

His chuckle morphs into a full-blown chortle. Which is something, and not only because they are trapped and possibly about to die. The sound leaving his lips takes him by surprise. He hasn’t laughed so freely, so openly in quite some time.

“Actually, it’s you who is being judgmental right now, Felicity,” he points out good-naturedly, mirth still dancing in his eyes. “My unit’s Captain, John, remember? I mentioned him earlier. His sister-in-law works at Big Belly Burger a couple of blocks from here and we frequently eat there at the end of a shift.”

Her eyes grow huge at that. “No way! And you still look like that?? That’s so unfair on so so many levels,” she groans, burying her face against her knees.

He just smirks back at her, but he likes what he’s seeing. She’s not so coiled anymore, not so uptight. Her hands are not gripping her knees until her knuckles turn white anymore, just resting on top of them comfortably, and when she turns her face back to him, her face is illuminated with those huge, animated eyes of hers. They are blue too, he just realized, his own eyes finally having adjusted to the darkness around them enough to be able to tell for sure. He wants to see more of her like this. More of her light spirit.

He decides on the topic of his next question in order to keep the conversation light. “So miss-“ he frowns, realizing he doesn’t know her second name.

“Smoak,” she supplies easily.

“Okay, miss Smoak. If Christmas Eve is of no interest for a Jewish girl like you, what are your plans for New Year’s Eve?”

At that question, Felicity surprisingly turns a lovely shade of red, which only piques his interest to an impossible level. He absolutely has to know.

“Well, mister-”

“Queen,” he supplies without missing a beat.

“Oh.” Her eyebrows pull together as she contemplates something, “Queen. Okay, now that makes sense. I thought you had some weird code name going on with your boss back there on the radio. And regarding my plans…well, what the hell, we might die here anyway, so you might take my secret to your grave.”

His eyes grow huge.

“What, too soon?” she asks innocently.

Another hearty, breathless laugh escapes his lips. “You are quite something, Felicity Smoak, you know that? Too soon, she asks,” he grumbles, good naturedly. “Felicity, it didn’t even happen yet!”

“Yeah, but if it does, there will be no opportunity for me to make that joke anymore, so-”

“Don’t try to weasel your way of answering my question, Felicity,” Oliver warns and she deflates.

“Ugh, okay. You got me there. New Year’s Eve. Okay. Big plans. A date. With my couch, a pint of ice cream, a bottle of red and a re-watch of the 22. season of Doctor Who.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They are trapped, having met under the worst of circumstances. And yet, talking to her feels like the most natural thing in the world. They continue their verbal dance, the back and forth, for a couple of more hours, until Oliver notices Felicity growing more and more tired. She’s also holding her body more stiffly, her side probably already heavily bruised from the injuries caused by the falling cabinet. She doesn’t complain though, not once, keeps her spirits up as they talk, and Oliver is once again mesmerized by her.

She tells him a little about her work, about her life. The small one-woman IT company she runs from home and the big plans she has for it. She tells him about some of her freelancing work and shares a couple of funny stories about the more difficult clients. She even tells him a little about growing up in Vegas. He tells her a little about himself in return. His sister, his work. Those two idiots he had to rescue from being stuck in the chimney. It’s only fair, after all.

They share the water that’s remained of his bottle, the same one he used earlier to wet the cloth he gave her to wear around her face. He pretends to drink, but he barely sips at the liquid despite his throat being parched, leaving the water for her to drink when it’s her turn. He is better trained for such circumstances, after all, and she is the one who was trapped and hurt by a cabinet, lying on a cold basement floor for a long while. If anybody needs the water, it’s her, but he doesn’t tell her that, pretends to drink too, because if he’s learned anything about Felicity Smoak tonight, it’s that she’s not person to wait for hand-outs. She obviously has also a very high sense for justice and fair distribution of resources, so he plays along.

In short, she’s absolutely got her hooks into him.

And if their predicament wasn’t so dire, Oliver would love to spend more time just talking to her. There is much, much more hiding underneath that plain, boring look she tries to pull. But Oliver’s seen enough to be fooled. There’s just something about her that pulls him deeper in the more he spends time with her. And it goes beyond the adorable rambles and obvious superior intellect, beautiful smile and captivating blue eyes (she tells him, with regret, that she usually wears glasses but she must have lost them when the cabinet fell onto her. He even tried to look for them a while back, but to no avail. She still thanked him with a sweet smile playing over her lips that made him feel like tearing through the rubble with his bare hands just to find those damn glasses for her.)

Their situation is almost like a plot of a rom-com movie. A man and a woman meet by getting stuck together in an elevator, or during a storm while both hiding under the same tree. If it weren’t for the bruises currently making her shift uncomfortably on the hard ground or the very real possibility of them still being crushed by the ceiling caving above them, it would have been an utterly delightful night.

Somewhere in the past couple of hours, Oliver has shifted closer to Felicity, her head tiredly resting against his shoulder as she squirmed closer to find a more comfortable position for her sore body.

He could almost pretend this was a very, very nice and successful first date. Only, it’s not. Because she is hurting, they are both hungry and thirsty and beyond tired. And slowly loosing hope for help to even come or come in time. The silences between them grow more and more prolonged. Not uncomfortably, but heavy still.

It’s during one of these silences when Oliver feels a violent shiver run down Felicity’s body.

“Hey,” he whispers, “you cold?”

She shakes her head with a wince. “No. Just sore.”

Yeah, right. More like bruised black and blue, with smoke inhalation and dehydration and God knows what else. She should be being checked out by a doctor in a hospital right about now, anywhere really but here.

“Hey, did I tell you that I am a paramedic too?” Oliver suddenly blurts out.

“What?”

“Just that…I am a firefighter slash paramedic. That’s my official position.” Once again, he doesn’t know why he’s telling her this.

She is quiet for a moment. Then, “So what? Are you trying to tell me that if we got out of here earlier, you would be the one checking me out?” she asks cheekily and he honestly has to chuckle again.

“You, Felicity Smoak, are something else,” he tells her in a playful, appreciative tone and he could swear he feels her smile against his chest at that. “And yes, I probably would. But that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” she asks, growing more serious.

“I- I don’t know anymore,” he says honestly, realizing it’s partly true. The other part of him knows that for some reason, he wanted to impress her. For some reason, he wanted her to think good about him.

“So that’s what you do?” She picks up the conversation. “You go to burning buildings and rescue damsels in distress and put out fires and then patch the cute girls up?”

“I also helped a pregnant lady deliver her baby in the back of her car when she got stuck in traffic and rescued a kitten from a tree once-- and oh God,” he groans, “I have no idea why I just told you that.”

Felicity’s peal of laughter is almost worth the embarrassment he is feeling. “I am afraid you are starting to rub off of me,” he complains.

That makes her laugh even harder before she grows quiet and one of their silences falls over them again. Oliver thinks she might have dozed off, when she suddenly speaks.

“When I was seven, my dad left us.”

His heart stops at her words, his breath catching in his chest.

“Just like that. One day he was there, the other he was gone. No explanation whatsoever. It’s like me and my mom didn’t even deserve an explanation. I’ve never heard from him since.”

“I am sorry,” Oliver utters. And it’s the truth.

“Thank you,” Felicity acknowledges. “My mom worked a lot. I was alone a lot of the time. One day, when she was at work, I discovered my father’s secret stash of computer components. It felt...comforting, for some reason. Although he was the one leaving us, I blamed my mom a lot. So to spite her, and to remember my dad, trying to prove something to him, perhaps that I was worth it, I threw myself into computers. I found them easier to understand than people anyway. People are hard. Computers are easy. Sometimes I think...sometimes I think if my dad didn’t leave us, I would have turned to people for comfort rather than computers. I wouldn’t hide behind a screen in order to avoid living my life, scared of getting hurt again by someone else important to me leaving because I was just not worth it.” Her voice trembles at the end.

She breaks his heart. She utterly breaks his heart, devastates him with her words. He keeps silent, not trusting his own voice, but he tightens his arm around her, brings her even closer. The only thing he finds worthy to offer in return for her honesty is his own.

“When I was younger, I was a real fuck up. I drank a lot, a screwed around. I didn’t much care for the world, for my parents, for school. I could never keep a single relationship longer than a couple of months. I never wanted it. My parents…they were good people who loved both of their children unconditionally. And they had money. Which meant that any problem I had, any problem I caused, they made it disappear. I was never accountable for anything, never had to carry any responsibility. Until the day they died in a car crash, leaving me as the sole custodian of a little girl that barely turned a teenager. It was a harsh reality check.”

He felt silent, reminiscing for a while. Felicity kept silent too and he was glad for it because it was easier to confess like this.

“One of the reasons I do this job is to honor them. They were good people, and they wished for me to grow into a good person. I don’t know if I achieved that. But every time I pull someone out of a wreckage, every time I help saving someone else’s property, property they’ve spend their entire lives working for, when I cut someone out from a wreckage of a car the same way someone once tried to help my parents, I feel closer to them somehow. And most of the days, that’s the sole most important reason I do this job.”

“What’s the main reason on those other days?” Felicity asks quietly and Oliver is once again faced with the harsh truth of his existence. Only this time, he doesn’t run away from it.

“The other reason is that my life is so empty that I need the adrenaline – the thrill of the often too close calls – to even feel alive. Don’t get me wrong. I love my job. I love helping people. But I also like the risk of tempting fate. The possibility that at the end of the day I might not be coming home makes me feel alive.”

For a long while, she doesn’t say anything. Then, “That’s a pretty bleak outlook on life.”

He doesn’t reply to that. She is right. And he just begins to realize how tired that kind of life is making him.

“Who am I to speak, though?” sighs Felicity. “Abandonment issues from early childhood, some bad experiences at college. The same way you hide in your work, I hide in mine. I hide behind computers because they are easier to understand. They never lie or let me down. They don’t walk away when things get tough. I love my work. I love my company. I have great plans for it. But the honest truth is, that at the end of the day, when I come home, I feel lonely. I never admit it to anybody. Least of all to myself. I pretend it’s what I want. But today made me realize.”

Her voice trembles before gaining a desperate quality as she suddenly whimpers against his chest. “I don’t want to die! I want to experience all that life has to offer. I haven’t been living until now, not really. I’ve been living buried in my work and avoiding personal relationships because they are messy and require a lot of work and still, in the end, people might leave. I am socially awkward, not particularly pretty and I talk a lot. Building relationships doesn’t come easy to me. But I want a chance to try.” Her sniffs grow into steady sobs and Oliver’s heart breaks for her again. She is so wrong, on so many levels, her view of herself completely askew, but he lets her voice everything she’s never dared to admit, listens to her without interruptions, his own breath hitching in his throat.

“Dammit,” she suddenly swears angrily. “At least I want a dog! That was actually going to be my New Year’s resolution. Getting a dog. Nothing fancy. Just a sweet shelter pooch. One that is just as lonely as me so maybe we can be not so lonely together.” Tears are falling down her face, but she is either unwilling or too tired to wipe them away. “I just wanted to have one thing in my life, one living soul that in case I wouldn’t come home one day would actually give a crap.”

Oliver doesn’t know her. Not really. Yesterday, he didn’t even know a Felicity Smoak existed. Today, however, he doesn’t want to imagine a world without her. There is something pure and sweet and innocent about her that should be preserved. And still, circumstance and bad experiences have made her completely oblivious to how special she is. It shouldn’t be like this.

Oliver observes how heartachingly sweet she is. How compassionate. Intelligent. It physically pains him to see her stuck in life like this. He knows her for less than six hours, but he feels – no, he knows – she definitely doesn’t deserve this. Either of this – this shitty building collapsing onto her or the lonely life she’s leading.

“You know what, Felicity Smoak?” he says, forcing his tone to be light despite the heaviness in his heart. “I’ll make you an offer.”

Her head perks up at that, those huge, impossibly warm blue eyes still glistening with tears as she silently observes him.

“When-” (he deliberately omits using if) “we make it out of here, I’m going to take you out to dinner,” he smiles at her then, honest yet unassuming.

“You don’t have to-”

He suspected that’s what she would say. A self-preserving reaction, but one he is quick to dismiss. “No. It’s not because I feel like I have to. It’s because I want to. Do you understand?” He’s holding her eyes, willing her to understand this is not a pity invite by no means.

She studies him for a long time, is if trying to find a catch, but she doesn’t find any, because there’s none, and her lips form into an adorable ‘O’ he has a hard time not to kiss away.

“You mean dinner like a date? A date date?”

His lips stretch into a huge smile, because finally, they are on the same page. “Yes, Felicity Smoak. Exactly like that.” And he means it. He doesn’t think he’s ever meant anything more in his life.

“It’s a date,” she whispers back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Oliver doesn’t say it. He doesn’t want to scare her. No more than she already is.

But they are running out of time. The ceiling above them cracks and creaks, things shifting, giving in. It will cave soon.

It’s the very first time in his life when Oliver doesn’t feel like tempting fate. When he feels like he wants a chance at life instead, absolutely risk free.

He wants that chance. Wants a date with the girl he only met today more than anything.

Felicity has fallen asleep a while ago. Well, more like her body has given up. He is glad for her sake, even if he could use her company right now. He misses the bubbly laugh, the rambles, the nervous jokes. Those eyes seemingly looking directly into his very soul.

Something has changed today. And Oliver Queen doesn’t want to go through the motions anymore, expecting death to come and claim him. He wants to live.

There are sounds, noises. Rumbling and tearing and things-hitting-ground noises, something heavy right above them giving way.

He presses her to his side in a ridiculous attempt to shield her. He has absolutely no chance, but still, he feels an overpowering urge to protect her. The shakes and vibrations rouse her and she wakes with a start, a coughing fit seizing her as she trembles in his arms like a leaf.

“Oliver?” she asks in a small voice and it’s his undoing. She knows that this is it. She knows and she presses against him even tighter.

He’s never felt anything as intense as he feels right this very moment. Not with the adrenaline rush, not the chase from his brushes with death, nothing compares to the feeling of how very much he wants to protect this other human being in this very moment.

The ceiling howls over them, but there are new sounds, something cutting through metal and concrete, and then Oliver finally realizes. These sounds are manmade.

Hope floods him, desperate, exhilarating hope and he can’t help but take a deep breath before bellowing at the top of his lung: “HELP! WE ARE TRAPPED IN THE BASEMENT!”

It takes another twenty minutes before a small ray of light appears in one of the basement walls and another ten before a very sweaty and tired face of John Diggle peeps inside, uttering a simple: “Told you I would kill you myself, Oliver.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She spends two days at the hospital. Nothing major, she is assured, at least nothing with long lasting effects. A couple of deep hematomas where the cabinet squashed her, a few mild skin abrasions. The doctor’s most severe concern is her prolonged smoke inhalation plus making sure there are no other underlying internal injuries they are not aware of. She’s given an IV to restore fluids and a leaflet about iron deficiency because that’s apparently the important thing her blood tests unveil and what has absolutely nothing to do with the ordeal she just survived. Thank you, near death experience, for bringing the point home of how she has been failing at regular life even before the whole CNRI collapsing fiasco.

Christmas Day is spent in a blur of being wheeled in and out to various tests and poked by sharp objects, being asked questions about way too personal things.

Later in the afternoon, tired but finally allowed to take some rest, Felicity asks the nurse for a phone to cross off the last thing on her to-do list and finally calls her mom.

Donna Smoak is a wreck. She is halfway out the door to the airport when Felicity finally manages to convince her there is absolutely no need for her to fly out to Starling. It’s Christmas, she wouldn’t find a last-minute flight even if her life depended on it anyway, and besides, there is no need. Felicity is okay, she is not injured, merely being kept for observation. Yes, yesterday sucked – an understatement in the history of understatements – but she is absolutely okay and scheduled to be released the following day, so there will be no major changes to her original holiday plans of doing nothing while laying on her couch watching reruns of her favorite shows.

It takes another forty-five minutes for her mother to finally settle and accept her daughter will survive even without her personal motherly care and Felicity – now utterly spent – ends the call with a tired ‘love you’ to her mom and the elation she won’t have to deal with Donna Smoak in person on top of everything else. Don’t get her wrong. She loves her mom more than anything, but she can be quite… intense. And overbearing. And Felicity just… she could really use a bit of silent and quiet for a while.

Laurel visits her the day after Christmas, just hours before Felicity’s scheduled to be released. She brings her a beautiful bouquet of flowers and in a surprisingly thoughtful gesture a change of clothes to go home in. Felicity is beyond touched. Her eyes almost fill with tears when the next thing Laurel produces from her miraculous carry-on is Felicity’s own handbag, a bit charred and destroyed by smoke, but her wallet and its contents – even her freaking phone – are untouched and that, at least, is a blessing and a small miracle on itself. She doesn’t dare to ask how Laurel’s got her hands on it, how it could be salvaged from the wreckage of a multiple story building. With shaking hands and a little thank you that’s a little more teary than she would have liked, Felicity accepts the items.

The whole time while visiting, Laurel is wearing a guilty expression on her face, apologizing to Felicity profusely before the other woman can even try to stop her. Laurel’s own bruises are testament enough the other woman’s been through the same ordeal as herself and for Felicity, Laurel’s escaping the building just a tad sooner doesn’t take away from the horror of having it explode and fall on you unexpectedly.

Later in the afternoon, Felicity changes into the clothes gifted by Laurel (Oh, look, this could be considered her very own Christmas gift!). They are a little tight and longer than Felicity would normally wear, but otherwise fit just fine. She takes the flowers along with her charred handbag and after signing what feels like dozens of forms, Felicity Smoak finally walks out of the hospital. Right there, in the hospitals parking lot, she takes a moment to look towards the skies and take what feels like her first free breath in days, thanking whatever deity out there for being granted another chance at life.

Five days later, Felicity has to admit her bruises are healing quite nicely. Though currently still sporting a very bright shade of maroon, some are already turning green. Iron deficiency her ass, she thinks before she grumpily gulps down her iron supplements.

Her eyes fall on the bouquet of flowers, a beautiful batch of still rather fresh-looking white and pink lilies that emit a heavy, heady fragrance which is almost too much for Felicity’s small apartment, but she doesn’t mind that much. It was a very nice gesture from Laurel. Felicity can’t remember the last time she received flowers from anyone, if ever, and she likes to see them in her apartment. They remind her that it all really happened. And that in fact, she might not be as alone as she had originally thought.

Back at the hospital, Laurel apologized time and again for calling Felicity so late and on Christmas Eve on top of it to work on a server problem that could have very well been put off for a couple more days. However, what Felicity remembers most from that afternoon, was how later Laurel went out to grab them some coffee, and how they talked for quite some time over their wonderful caramel lattes, mostly about CNRI and what its destruction would mean for the non-profit’s future. Once again, like a broken record, Laurel thanked Felicity for her help, but it was Felicity who felt like the one thanking Laurel. If not for her, no one would have even suspected she was still inside the building and there would’ve been no Hunk of a rescuer to save her life.

Speaking of which. Oliver Queen. There is no way around the subject. It’s been a week – exactly seven days – since she’s been pulled out of the wreckage as the first of the two of them – Oliver insisted and she didn’t argue – and brought to the hospital. Felicity hasn’t seen or heard from the man since.

She hasn’t expected to.

She is glad it was him she was stuck with, though. Immensely glad. That ordeal had made her realize a lot about herself. Not only thanks to the gas explosion and subsequently being trapped for hours underground, not sure whether she would survive the night, but because of the man himself and the gut-wrenchingly honest confessions that had transpired between them during those long hours of waiting for a miracle.

Everything else that was said and done that night was relative and would stay in that basement forever. Felicity doesn’t begrudge her rescuer not contacting her afterwards, neither is she too disappointed in him for not making good on his promises made during their shared time. Statements made under duress, albeit made sincerely at the time, were often seen under a different light once the threat of death was gone. It was perfectly understandable.

Even if it all felt a little…unfinished. For a while, Felicity plays with the idea of writing him a thank you note, as well as with the idea of stopping by at his station to personally thank him – he had, after all, saved her life and almost lost his own while trying – but with everything else, with how achingly personal that rescue mission had turned out to be in the end, Felicity doesn’t want to make him feel any more awkward about it.

She is no fool. Of course she thought about it, about how he promised her a date if they got out. And she would have loved to go on that date. Oliver Queen seemed like a really nice guy that she could really grow to care about and his promise had felt really really nice at the time it was made, but in hindsight, Felicity now sees the promise for what it was. A nice gesture offering her hope, nothing more. Now that the danger is gone, there is no reason for him to make good on that promise. He did his job, he rescued her. Maybe in more ways than one. What he did for her back there was more than any human being could ever do for another human being, and she was beyond grateful. He has allowed her a second chance at life and Felicity won’t tarnish that memory by feeling sour about possible maybe’s and what-ifs.

The bottom line is, Oliver Queen has saved Felicity Smoak’s life. And she is finally ready to live it.

Starting today. Well, no, not really, tomorrow more like.

Cause she has a date tonight. With her couch, and a pint of mint chocolate-chip ice cream, a celebratory bottle of red and The Doctor, with whom she would kiss the old year goodbye.

Oh, but tomorrow! Tomorrow, the world would get to see the new Felicity Smoak emerge from the ashes, like a Phoenix she would rise and show the world she was not scared to live anymore.

Or…well. Live a little more fearlessly. Be a little more open and outgoing. That was the plan. After all, she does have a lunch date with Laurel Lance tomorrow. It’s a start, right? Maybe it will even become a regular thing.

With a tablespoon full of ice cream in her mouth, Felicity makes herself comfortable on her couch, doing a mental inventory of everything she will need tonight. TV remote, check. First DVD in the player, check. A bottle of red – uncorked, check. A glass – because she does have that much self-esteem not to drink directly from the bottle – check. A duvet to cover her soon to be freezing toes nearby – check. Favorite comfy pajamas, hell yeah, check.

Just as she’s about to press play, there is a soft knock on the door and it makes Felicity jump. There is absolutely no one who should be visiting her, certainly not on New Year’s Eve, only mere hours before the big ball on Times Square is supposed to hit the ground. Weird. She hasn’t ordered any food and as long as she knows, Mrs. Fitzpatrick found her cat just that very morning. No way the bloody tabby run away again!

For one dreadful second, Felicity wonders if it might be her mom – it would be so much Donna Smoak’s style – but then she remembers how her mom texted her a picture of her and her girlfriends at a bar preparing to celebrate New Year together at Vegas only an hour ago.

Phew, dodged a bullet, there.

The knocking comes again, more insistent this time and Felicity mentally shakes herself, jumping to her feet and quickly making her way to the door. She checks the peephole first – of course she does, she has seen all the true crime series and documentaries the Crime and Investigation channel (her guilty pleasure) has to offer, after all. Once realizing who stands at the other side of the door however, she doesn’t hesitate a second and rips it open, almost missing catching its edge before it smashes against the wall.

“Oliver,” she breathes out in surprise. “What are doing here?”

He is standing there, in all his glory of six feet plus, handsome and charming as ever, a boyish smile stretching across his lips as he takes her in. Only then does Felicity realize what a picture she must make standing in her door, barefoot and braless, in her flannel pajamas with tiny grumpy cats printed all over it, her spare pair of glasses slipping down her nose and hair fixed in a messy bun at the top of her head, clutching a half-eaten spoon of ice cream in her right hand.

She must make quite the sight, Felicity thinks, groaning inwardly. Why couldn’t she wear makeup and something sexy when she finally meets the Hunk – her personal Hunk of a rescuer – again? Or, you know, at least wear a freaking bra!

If Oliver has any objections to her look however, he keeps them to himself while his eyes roam her, his eyes shining in almost the same intense way as she remembers from the basement, causing a light shiver run down her spine. Must be the draft from the doorway, she stubbornly tells herself as she takes her own time to fully take him in.

It’s the first time she sees him without the uniform and a face blackened by ash and dust. She’s finally allowed to ogle him in full light, and she must admit, she likes what she sees. He wears a pair of loose, washed-out jeans, a simple grey V-neck shirt and a brown leather jacket. She wonders how he got here, because even despite the casual clothes, something suggests to her he’s exactly the type to ride a bike. There is no evidence supporting her claim, nothing other than maybe his disheveled hair sticking in all directions like he let the wind blow through it carelessly, along with slightly reddened cheeks – but that might be nothing, it’s December, after all.

But that doesn’t matter, because his smile’s easy and relaxed and his eyes are their usual sparkly blue, that strong jaw deliciously peppered with scruff that only begs for her hands to run through it and oh God, the man has a mole – the tiniest mole near his bottom lip and nope, nope, she will absolutely not survive this encounter.

“Nice to see you again, Felicity,” he finally speaks in that deep, gentle voice of his. It’s a voice that’ll be seared to her brain forever. “I hope I am not intruding,” he says, still smiling that trademark million-dollar smile of his and Felicity almost narrows her eyes at him in a glare, because she knows he knows he is not interrupting anything; they’ve had this discussion before. And yes, she would be annoyed with him, if only her stomach wasn’t filled to the brim with happy butterflies at the sight of him.

She still hasn’t said anything, hasn’t even stepped aside to invite him in, is instead standing frozen on her spot like a stupid, dumbfounded block of wood, but he doesn’t seem deterred by it (there is a God, after all).

“To answer your question,” he tells her in a nonchalant, flirty voice (the bastard), “I am here to collect on your promise.

It’s a date.

Her knees almost give out.

“I brought food,” he smiles further, uncovering a big paper bag from behind his back, a bag adorned with a huge BBB logo, and where she might have had a crush on him before, she is halfway in love with him by now. “I believe you have wine and dessert to go with dinner,” he adds, rising his eyebrows and hinting with a pointed look at the melting ice-cream dripping from the spoon she is still stupidly clutching in her hand.

The ice cream, however, is not the only thing melting at this point. Because he came. And what’s more important, he intends to make good on their mutual promise. The blinding smile she offers him in return almost splits her face.

Lost for words, Felicity only nods enthusiastically and steps back to let him in, her heart filled to the brim.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three hours later, laughing over Doctor Who with feet propped on her coffee table littered with burger wrappers, greasy napkins and empty strawberry milkshake cups – because yes, he remembered that too – along an empty bottle of red that’s fallen to its side and bickering about who the best Doctor ever was while eating ice cream from the same bowl, the clock strikes midnight.

Oliver freezes, looking at Felicity, and she almost laughs at the apprehensive, deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face. She isn’t deterred by it whatsoever. If the past couple of hours have proved anything to her, it’s that Oliver Queen isn’t merely doing good on his word and fulfilling a promise he has given her under duress, but very much wants to be here with her and is enjoying himself as much as she is.

And with that realization, another comes.

It’s a New Year.

The first day of the new her. A week ago, she would say she didn’t know what possessed her. But today, she knows. The deep blue eyes crinkling with a boyish smile and a little mole at the side of his lips are calling to her, pulling her in.

And this new Felicity? She is supposed to be bold. Fearless. She’s supposed to live her life to the fullest and risk her heart.

So she does.

She kisses him.

She goes all in, and it’s a risk well taken, because Oliver doesn’t skip a beat in kissing her right back.

END

A/N: Happy Holidays!!!

#arrow #olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #olicity secret santa 2018

148 notes · View notes

hope-for-olicity · 5 years

Text

Home for the Holidays 3/3

Merry Christmas Helen @oliverfel4! So sorry for the delay but due to your patience you are getting a multi-chapter story. I so hope you enjoy! Hugs - @hope-for-olicity

Synopsis: Captain Oliver Queen runs into CEO Felicity Smoak at O’Hare Airport as they head home for the holidays. The two have not seen one another since high school.

Also available on AO3

Felicity woke with a smile on her face. She touched her lips remembering how Oliver kissed her the night before. The man had talent. She sighed, stretched in bed. She’d definitely like more of that before he left.

“Good morning,” Oliver stood in the doorway, enjoying how adorable Felicity looked all cuddled up in bed. He wished he could hop in with her. Something told him, her mother would be just fine with that idea.

“Oliver!” Felicity began to straighten in bed. “Have you been up long? You must think we are awful hosts. My mom works nights so she often sleeps in.”

Oliver chuckled. “Actually, your mom has been up with me for a while. We are making breakfast, it’s almost ready.”

Felicity slanted her eyes. Her mother helped make breakfast?

Oliver could see Felicity was starting to get worried at the prospect of her mother cooking.“Okay, it was me. I made breakfast, your mother really helped with her encouragement.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute. I need to make myself pretty.” She joked as she began to get out of bed.

“You are already beautiful to me,” Oliver said softly before turning away.

Felicity couldn’t help but blush.

→→→→→

Oliver found he quite enjoyed the Smoak women. They clearly loved one another very much but they were very different.

They had just finished breakfast in Donna’s cozy little kitchen when she turned to them, “so what are you kids up to today?”

“Felicity and I have a date.” Oliver declared, smiling brightly.

“Oh, do you?” Donna looked at her daughter.

“Yes mother, the man you told to ravish me last night is making an honest woman of me today. Taking me out to lunch. Isn’t that right, Captain Queen?” Felicity smiled.

Damn, the way Felicity said Captain Queen, almost made him forget her mother was sitting right there. “Yes,” he managed to sputter. Oliver began gathering the plates from the table to clean up.

“Sit down, Oliver. You did the cooking, I’ll do the cleaning.” Donna shooed him away from the dishes. “Why don’t the two of you get ready and head out. You can borrow my car if you like. Oliver, did your parents say when they would be getting back?”

“Yes, ma’am. They said they’d be back around two. I was going to go to lunch with Felicity then head back to the house.”

Donna giggled. “You called me ma’am, you really don’t need to. Just Donna is fine.”

“Donna,” Oliver emphasized her name. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here last night. It was very much appreciated.”

“It was our pleasure, Oliver. Wasn’t it, Felicity?” Donna nudged her daughter.

“Yes, of course.” Felicity felt slightly embarrassed at her mother reminding her to be mannerly.

Oliver reached over, squeezing Felicity’s hand. “I’m just going to get my things together. Maybe then we can head out. Take a tour of the downtown, see what’s changed.

“That sounds great.” Felicity smiled at Oliver before turning to her mother. “Mom, I’ll head back here after I drop Oliver off, maybe we can make some cookies before tonight’s Christmas Carnival outing.”

“Christmas Carnival?” This sounded like something Oliver could get in on. He couldn’t explain it but he really just wanted to be with Felicity.

“Yes, I told you mom and I do all the holiday traditions here in Star City. Maybe we’ll see your family there tonight. It tends to be well attended, right mom?” Felicity turned to her mother.

“Yes, dear, very well attended.” Donna nodded at Felicity. She then turned to Oliver. “I’m sure your family will go, Oliver, they are big supporters of community events, in fact, I think your mother was on the organizing committee.”

→→→→→

Oliver and Felicity spent the rest of the morning wandering around the town. Felicity even helped him pick out a few presents for his family. “I know they will love your presents, Oliver but I think having you home will be the best gift of all.”

Oliver smiled. He was really excited to see his family. He could hear the tears in his mother’s voice when he talked to her last night. It suddenly struck him, He couldn’t wait to tell his mother about Felicity.

Felicity continued to look at items in a local craft shop. “Oliver, do you need any other presents? I just found this stunning painting of Star City harbour.”

Oliver walked toward her. “That is stunning.” He looked at the painting over Felicity’s shoulder. “No, I’m finished my shopping. What about you? Do you need to get anything? I know you don’t celebrate Christmas but do you do gifts?”

“We don’t officially exchange gifts but as I didn’t come home I used to send something to my mother at the beginning of the season. She always said she understood my not coming. We talked every night during Hanukkah but I wanted to show her I missed her. This time, I brought us home some fancy hot chocolate to share.” Felicity rubbed her hands together as they headed out of the warm store into the cold street.

Oliver took her hand in his, “I think it’s time for some Big Belly Burger. What do you think?”

“I think I’m all.” Felicity smiled, knowing she meant that in more than one way. She really should be freaking out this man was about to go back to war but she was so happy to have found him and have this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to worry.

→→→→→

They headed back to the car their bellies full of Big Belly Burger. “Ugh, I think I get the name now. It tasted so good but now I totally have a big belly.” She winked at Oliver as he got in the passenger seat.

Felicity went to put the keys in the ignition when Oliver took her hand. “Felicity, I know you are taking me back to my parents but I don’t want this to be over. I hope to see you tonight and other time you can find for me when we are home. I understand this trip is to visit your mother, I don’t want to infringe on that but, I really like you and being with you….” Oliver trailed off.

“Feels right. Like you are at peace? I mean, I don’t want to put words in your mouth but that’s how I feel. I really like you to, Oliver. And I know I should be freaking out because we have such little time before you ship out again but I can’t because I’m enjoying each moment too much. So if this is all we have, I want to be happy now.” Felicity blushed. “I hope I didn’t say too much. It’s just, I really like you, Captain Queen.”

Oliver knew exactly what she meant and the fact that they were on the same page, filled him with happiness. He quickly reached over pulling her into his arms for a kiss. He meant it to be a quick kiss but that’s just not what they did.

Felicity laughed as the pulled apart noticing the steamed up windows. “Well, now we will be the talk of the town. Kissing in a parked car on Main Street. My mom would be proud.” Felicity couldn’t stop smiling.

“Happy to help.” Oliver beamed.

“Okay, let me take you home. Text me when you know what you are doing tonight. I want to meet up.” Felicity turned on the car waited a moment for the windows to defog before pulling out onto the street.

“You just want more kisses.” Oliver teased. He couldn’t remember ever being this happy before.

“Well, of course. You give good kisses, Captain Queen.” Felicity gave him a smile before turning her attention back to the road.

→→→→→

As soon as Felicity pulled up in front of Oliver’s house the front door swung open and Oliver’s sister came running out.

“I have to go. But I’ll text.” Oliver leaned over, giving her a quick peck on the lips before opening the passenger door to hug his sister.

“Thea! Are you taller?” He squeezed her tight before waving to his parents waiting in the doorway. He pulled away from Thea to grab his bag from the trunk then walked back to the house. Where he was hugged by both his parents.

His mother sobbed. “I’m so happy you are home.”

Oliver couldn’t lie there were tears in his own eyes. He thought of his family so often when he was deployed, now he was here. He was with his family and everything was wonderful.

→→→→→

Felicity spent the rest of the afternoon making cookies with her mom. They ordered pizza for dinner and ate it while watching a Hallmark Christmas movie. She was so happy. But she missed Oliver just a little bit. Felicity phone buzzed, smiled seeing Oliver’s name.

Oliver: Miss you lots

Felicity: I miss you too

Felicity: We are a fine pair of saps

Oliver: I don’t care

Felicity: How is family time?

Oliver: Amazing, I missed them so so much

Oliver: But I wish you were here

Oliver: Maybe you could come over tomorrow?

Felicity: Sure

Felicity: You are going to the Christmas Carnival tonight, right?

Felicity was suddenly worried he was going to say no. This was silly, she was with him all morning. He deserved time with his family.

Oliver: I’m going even if my parents don’t but I think we are all going

Felicity: Can’t wait to see you

Felicity: Mom and I are heading over around 730

Oliver: I’ll try to get us to go at the same time

Oliver: I’ll text when I’m there

Felicity: See you soon

Oliver: For sure

Felicity put her phone down.

“Well, Felicity I can’t believe it. You’re in love. Although I’d be surprised if you weren’t, Captain Queen is quite the catch. I’m so happy for you, baby.” Donna pulled her daughter in for a hug.

Felicity was too overwhelmed with emotions to deny it. She was in love with Oliver Queen. She’d never believed in love at first sight...maybe she was wrong.

→→→→→

Oliver was so excited to go the Christmas Carnival he managed to get his family to go early. He looked around at all the twinkle lights strung above, the booths selling food, drinks and wares. It started to lightly snow. It really was lovely. Oliver smiled.

Oliver’s mother Moira walked over, hugged her son. “Oliver, I love seeing you so happy. I can’t wait to meet, Felicity. I’ve heard about her from her mother but I can’t recall meeting her when you were young.”

“I don’t think you would have. I’m glad you will meet her now. She’s really special, mom.” Oliver looked ahead hoping to see her.

“Well, anyone that brings you this much happiness, I can’t wait to meet her.” Moira chuckled. “I think I see them, isn’t that Donna Smoak?”

Oliver looked in the direction his mother pointed. He began walking toward Felicity, whose head was down looking at her phone. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, he suspected it was a text sent from Felicity saying she arrived. He stopped in front of her. “Felicity.”

“Oliver,” she smiled before going up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. “It is so nice to see you.”

Oliver took her hand. “Hello, Donna. I was going to bring Felicity over to introduce her to my family, do you want to come with us?”

“I’ll join you in a moment, I just need to say hello to someone. Go off and have fun.” Donna waved as she headed in the opposite direction.

Oliver rubbed his thumb over Felicity’s gloved hand as they walked toward his family. He could sense she was nervous, he wanted to provide some support. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “They are going to love you.”

“How do you know?” She whispered back. “I have a habit of saying the wrong thing when I’m nervous.”

“I’ll be with you the whole time. After we meet them, I’d like to take you away for some alone time. If that’s okay.”

Felicity blushed. “That’s more than okay.”

“Felicity, it is so lovely to meet you. Oliver has told us all about you. Thank you so much to you and your mother for taking him in when we were away.” Moira extended her hand in greeting.

Felicity shook her hand. “So nice to meet you, Mrs. Queen. It was no problem really, Oliver and I arrived on the same flight. I’m so glad to have met him again.”

“Felicity, this is my father, Robert and my sister, Thea. Guys, this is Felicity.” Oliver felt so proud to introduce her to his family.

“Are you the Felicity Smoak who runs Smoak Tech?” Robert couldn’t help but inquire.

“That’s me.” Felicity smiled.

“Well, it truly is an honour to meet you. You have accomplished so much. I hope we, meaning Queen Consolidated, will get the opportunity to work with you in the future.” Robert smiled.

“That would be amazing, Mr. Queen. I’ve always admired your company.” Felicity suddenly felt flustered. She reached out her hand and Oliver immediately took it in his own.

“Felicity, it is very nice to meet the woman who stole my brother’s heart.” Thea smiled.

“Well, he stole mine first,” Felicity mumbled.

“I heard that! I really like you, Felicity Smoak. I hope to get to know you better. Right now, I’m off to meet my friends at the skating rink. Did you guys want to come?” Thea nodded toward the rink in the distance.

“I think we are just going to wander around.” Oliver looked down at Felicity, she nodded. “Maybe we will see you there in a bit.”

→→→→→

Felicity smiled up at Oliver as they walked. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too.” He kissed her forehead.

“Is it bad, if I say I don’t want this to end?” Felicity tried to keep the worry out of her voice.

“No, because I don’t want this to end either. Felicity, there is something I should have mentioned. I’m finishing my final tour in Afghanistan. When I go back it’s to tie things up and do a handover. I’m officially retired from the Army as of February 28th.”

“You mean you are coming home, home?” She couldn't keep the excitement out her voice.

“Yes, I’m coming home permanently. I just didn’t know where I was going to settle. I thought about coming back to Star City and opening a restaurant but I can open a restaurant anywhere and I hope this is not too forward - I mean I don’t want to freak you out…” Oliver was trying to read her reaction before he continued.

“I want you to move to New York City with me! Please tell me you will!” There were tears in Felicity’s eyes.

“If you would be okay with it. I know we only reconnected yesterday but Felicity, I’m falling in love with you.” Oliver took Felicity’s cheeks in his hands.

A tear slipped down Felicity’s cheek. “Oliver, I’m already there.”

Oliver kissed her lips. Knowing she would be the last woman he would ever kiss.

→→→→→

One Year Later

“I’m so glad you two came home for the holidays!” Donna practically squeed with delight.

“Mom, it’s so good to see you.” She hugged her mother. “As Oliver’s restaurant isn’t opening until January we were able to swing it this year. We are so glad to come home.”

Oliver stood back watching Felicity and her mother. It had been a year and his love for Felicity hadn’t lessened, only grown. Yes, their were some growing pains but they worked through them and were stronger for it.

They were spending the first few days at Donna’s before moving to Oliver’s family’s house for Christmas. Felicity still didn’t celebrate but she was happy to be included with Oliver’s family.

Felicity enjoyed Christmas morning. She gave Oliver a lovely set of knives for cooking at home and he gave her the beautiful painting of the Star City harbour they had seen the year before.

While they both loved their families, they were happy to go to the Christmas Carnival themselves this year.

As they walked among the stalls. Oliver looked down at Felicity, “can I get you anything?”

She wrapped her arm around his waist. “Oliver Queen having you is all I’ll ever need. You make me so happy.”

“You are my always, Felicity.” Oliver got down on one knee in the snow. “Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes!!!” Felicity dropped to her knees in the snow with him. She began kissing him all over his face. “I love you, Oliver.”

“And I love you, Felicity.” Oliver slipped the ring on her finger. He was so very glad he came home for the holidays.

#Home for the Holidays #olicity fanfiction #olicity secret santa 2018 #MyFanfic

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trueromantic1 · 5 years

Note

Hi from your olicity secret santa! What are some of your favorite olicity moments and your fave types of fic? I see you are also a Oncer! It's nice to meet another arrow fan that likes ouat!

Hi Santa! Hmmm... Some of my favorite Olicity moments are some of the more iconic things, like the Yin/Yang kiss and the first proposal. I also like their talk in S5 when they are stuck in the bunker and then after at ARGUS. I like when she kisses him on the island before they seperate. I actually really liked most of their interactions in S6, and any time that Felicity was like a parent to William (even before they got married). I've actually enjoyed most of S7 so far, even including their conversation toward the end of S7Ep8 (I have faith that it will lead to them being even closer and trusting than they were).

I like most type of fics, as long as there is a happy ending. I'm not as big a fan of things like horror and intrigue and mystery, though I'll enjoy them if there's some romance and a happy ending. I'm not a fan of cheating/affair fics, unless it's done extremely well (so rare to me, I think I've only even read one or two lol). I like slow burn, but not soooo slow that it's been 20+ chapters and they barely are in the same room together alone lol, never mind holding hands. My favorite fics are probably ones that take advantage of tropes. Some of my favorite tropes are fake dating, bed sharing, soulmates, alpha/beta/omega or omegsverse or alpha/beta (but I'm not a fan of when one group is super oppressed), and friends to lovers.

I am a Oncer! I started watching it when it first aired, and feel in love with it. I love the Captain Swan ship especially. While the timeline eventually became a bit of a joke, overall it was such a creative show. I love how they found ways to connect all the various fairy tale characters, and that they weren't afraid to use versions across media, or even make some of their own changes to make characters work a certain way. I didn't hate the final season, but it just didn't interest me as much. I think it was because Emma was my favorite character in the show, so I just couldn't get into it as much after she was gone. It's so great to meet another fan of both!!

#Secret Santa #Olicity Secret Santa #Olicity Secret Santa 2018

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olicitysecretsanta · 5 years

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Love Knows No Season, Love Knows No Clime (The Christmas Ornament)

For @foreverfelicityqueen from @allimariexf

Happy holidays to you, Kayla @foreverfelicityqueen!! I wanted to try to incorporate your wishes into this story, which meant going out of my comfort zone! I don’t know if this will be what you imagined, but I had such a fun time writing Tommy and doing the “soulmates” theme - both things I’ve never tried before! Thank you for that! I hope you like the result, which is a little fluffy, a little angsty, a little smutty and a little Hallmark magicky! :D

Tags: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Tommy Merlyn/Laurel Lance (implied), Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak, Tommy Merlyn, Laurel Lance (mentioned), William Clayton (mentioned), canon compliant, soul mates, christmas! fic, pre-Island, season 2, post-7x09, fluff and smut and light angst, mildly Hallmark-Christmasy, but darker because Arrow

Rating: M

Summary: Christmas magic

_________________________________ December 24, 1996

Oliver found Tommy sitting in the darkened hallway, lit only by the festive lights of the party below.

“Hey.”

Tommy looked up, not bothering to smile. “Hey.”

“Was wondering where you went. Laurel was asking about you.”

Tommy made a face.

Oliver grinned. “What? I think she likes you. What’s so bad about that?” He took a seat on the floor next to his friend.

Tommy lifted an eloquent eyebrow. “She likes you. She only asked about me so she’d have an excuse to talk to you, you know.”

Oliver stared back at his friend for a long moment before looking down with a knowing smile. “Okay, maybe.” He paused and listened to the sounds of music and voices drifting up from below that seemed to belong to another world. “What are you doing up here?”

When Tommy didn’t answer, Oliver gave his shoulder a shove. “Come on, there are a lot of girls down there! And no chaperones. And you were the one who stole the liquor out of your dad’s cabinet to spike the punch, dude!” He raised his eyebrows significantly. “Good job, by the way. But it makes me wonder why you aren’t down there enjoying it.”

Tommy shook his head, clearly in one of his moods. Oliver was used to it. Ever since his mom died and his dad left three years ago, Tommy had become a fixture at the Queen home, and he was more like a brother than a friend to Oliver. Most of the time he was the same old Tommy, fluent in sarcasm, never one to turn down a dare, who didn’t understand the concept of taking things too far. But every once in a while he would go silent and unreachable, and Oliver knew this was one of those times.

“You thinking about your dad? Or your mom?”

“Actually, I was thinking about girls, and then -”

Oliver swung his head around to give Tommy an incredulous look. “You’re up here brooding about girls?”

“Ha! No, not exactly.” The brief smile slid off his face. “I was thinking about girls, and that reminded me.” He drew a pair of objects from where they had been stashed behind him, and Oliver squinted into the darkness to make them out. “My mom gave these to me.”

Oliver looked at his friend, all jokes about sappy heart-shaped Christmas ornaments falling away from his lips.

“Well actually, I found them. The Christmas before she died.” He smiled softly. “I was looking through her closet to see if I could find out which Super Nintendo games she got me -” he met Oliver’s eyes with a grin, “Battletoads and Double Dragon!”

Oliver laughed with Tommy at the memory of the hours they’d spent playing the game, but he knew his friend had more to say, so he stayed silent. The sound of girls shrieking pierced the silence, and Oliver felt a strong sense of missing out on his own party, but he shoved the feeling down and waited for Tommy to continue.

“Instead, I found these ornaments.” He held them up into the dim light so Oliver could inspect them better. There were two of them, identical, each one made of wood and delicately carved into a pair of hearts. The words “My True Love” were painted in the center, with obvious space for two names below it. “She told me one of her patients gave them to her at the clinic. She said he was an artist and that he couldn’t afford to pay her, but he made her these ornaments, and told her….” He frowned slightly, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should continue.

Oliver was intrigued. “He told her what?”

“He told her they were magic.” He rolled his eyes and then looked at Oliver, waiting for judgment.

Oliver suppressed the sarcastic comment he normally would have made, because he could see that the ornaments, the story, the memory meant something to Tommy. Still, he was skeptical. “Magic?” A slightly indulgent smiled played over his lips.

Tommy shook his head, smiling. “I know, I know. It’s dumb.”

“Hey. It’s not dumb. It’s just…magic? What’s so magical about an ornament?”

“Well, according to my mom, you write your name here,” he pointed to the leftmost blank spot on one of the ornaments, “and then on Christmas eve you wish upon a Christmas star -”

“What’s a Christmas star?”

Tommy laughed. “I dunno. A star you see on Christmas? That’s what my mom called it, okay? I mean I know it’s all BS anyway….”

“Hey.” Oliver punched him lightly. “I didn’t say it was BS. What happens next? What are you supposed to wish for?”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “It is BS. Sappy love stuff. Okay? You write your name here, and you wish on a star for your one true love to find you. Your soulmate, or some crap like that.” He set the ornaments down and turned to face Oliver. “I thought of them because I was just down there, looking at you. Wondering how you get girls to like you.”

Oliver opened his mouth in surprise, but he felt himself flush with the still-new knowledge that it was true. Girls did like him. Until recently, it had been more of an inconvenience than anything, but more and more lately he found that he didn’t mind, that he liked the attention. “Tommy, you know I -”

“Ollie, it’s fine! It’s not a big deal. I was just thinking about it, and I remembered these ornaments, and it got me thinking about my mom.”

“You know you’re my best friend, right? Girls are just…girls.”

A slow smile spread over Tommy’s face. “Yeah. I know.”

Oliver matched his small smile and picked up one of the ornaments from the floor. “She was a good mom.”

“Thanks. She thought of you like a son too, you know. In fact, she told me this other ornament was for you.”

Oliver ran his thumb over the blank space on the right side of the ornament. “So what’s supposed to happen?”

Tommy spoke carefully, but Oliver heard the note of hope he was clearly trying to hide. “We write our names here. We wish on a star on Christmas eve. We put the ornament away. Then our true love will bring it to us one day, and her name will be written next to ours.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Ollie -”

“Come on, let’s do it! It’s Christmas eve. There’s a bunch of girls down there. Who knows what will happen?”

Tommy grinned at him, not saying thanks for humoring him and not teasing him, but Oliver understood anyway.

They opened the doors of the second floor balcony at the end of the hallway, meeting the freezing, crystal clear night. Situated over six miles from any other civilization, the Queen mansion always had excellent stargazing visibility, and tonight was no exception.

“Oh, crap, we forgot to write our names.”

“Umm. Here, I still have this from when I was writing names on the take-home bags.” He pulled a pen out of his pocket.

“It’s green.”

Oliver shrugged. “It’s festive.”

Tommy took the pen and wrote his name before passing it back to Oliver. “Now we wish.”

Oliver looked at Tommy, trying to match his solemn mood. “Okay. I wish that my one true love will come find me.”

“Yes. And I also wish that my one true love will come find me.”

“And they’ll bring us these ornaments.”

“Yeah.”

Oliver waited a moment, to give the wish time to take effect. “Now what?”

Tommy grinned. “Now we go back to the party and let the girls come to us!”

December 24, 2005

The door to the pool house opened again, the very loud sounds of the party spilling out into the cold night air, but people had been coming and going from the large inground hot tub all night, so Oliver didn’t think anything of it until Tommy rounded the corner and spotted him.

“Hey!”

“Hey.”

“I was looking for you. Kinda surprised to find you alone, though.” He settled into the lounge chair next to Oliver’s. “Laurel asked me to find you. I was prepared to tell her I found you throwing up in the bushes.”

Oliver let his gaze drift over to meet Tommy’s, but he didn’t match his friend’s knowing smile.

Still, Tommy pressed on. “I saw you talking to Rachel Atwell.”

“Who?”

“That redhead, Tanya Ferris’s cousin here on break from Vassar. You know, the one who had her hands up your shirt and her tongue in your mouth?”

“Oh. Her.”

“Yeah, Ollie. Her.”

Oliver felt Tommy waiting for an explanation, but he stayed silent.

“What’s going on, buddy?”

“Do you remember when you found those Christmas ornaments from your mom, the night of my first co-ed Christmas party, when we wished on a star for our true loves?” He had been staring off into the darkness, but after Tommy didn’t say anything for a minute, he looked over to find his friend giving him a strange look.

“Ollie, are you okay?”

“Do you remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. It was a silly thing we did, you were being nice to me about missing my mom and my awkward stage with girls. Thank goodness that’s over, right?”

A smiled flashed over Oliver’s face, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Seriously, buddy, what’s going on?”

“I got kicked out of Princeton.”

Tommy frowned. “That’s what’s bothering you? I mean, not to be insensitive, but you didn’t seem that bothered when you got kicked out of Harvard.”

Oliver shrugged.

“What did Laurel say?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Oh. But -”

Oliver met his friend’s questioning gaze without emotion.

“But wasn’t she transferring to Princeton to be with you?”

Oliver nodded once. “Yep.”

“Okay, okay. No big deal. I’m sure your parents can work something out, get you a second chance or something.”

Oliver’s gaze slid away to focus off into the distance again. “Did your one true love ever come find you?”

“Ollie. Oliver. Come on, man. That wasn’t real. There’s no such thing as magic.”

“But is there such a thing as true love?”

It was Tommy’s turn to be silent.

“What is love, anyway? Is it like my parents?”

“Man, I don’t know.” For once, there was a note of impatience in his voice. “You tell me. You’re the one of us who’s in a serious, long-term relationship.”

Oliver shook his head, sighing. “I know she makes me feel good about myself, like I’m special. Is that true love? I know that it doesn’t matter how much of a screw-up I am, she always tells me I’m a good person.”

“Yeah, she definitely loves you, Ollie.”

“She caught me cheating on her last month. She walked in on me in my dorm room when she was visiting me on campus.”

“Wait, wait. Let me get this straight: she was staying with you on campus, and you brought someone else to your dorm room?”

Oliver nodded.

“Dude, you have serious balls! Almost like you wanted to get caught!”

Oliver nodded absently. “She was really upset. She screamed at me, stormed off. I found her crying an hour later. But she forgave me, and then we had really great make-up sex.”

Tommy grinned. “Like I said, she really loves you. Nothing you could do would make her leave you.”

Oliver was silent for a long moment. “She’s too good for me.”

Tommy shrugged. “Someday you’ll be good enough for her.” He smiled mischievously. “But maybe not today? You’re still young, dude. Way too young to be worried about settling down just yet, in my opinion. Not when Rachel Atwell is just one hot girl among many, my friend, and you have a 6-years-running Christmas eve streak to maintain. Come on. We’ll go reassure Laurel and make your excuses.”

A slow smile was spreading over his face at the idea. Tommy was right. And besides, how was he ever supposed to know if what he had with Laurel was true love if he didn’t compare her to other girls? “She’s probably going to see through any excuses you come up with.”

“Well thank god she’s forgiving, then.”

December 24, 2013

The sound of the foundry’s door unlocking jolted Oliver out of his thoughts, and he swiveled toward the CC feed to see who was coming to the lair this late on Christmas eve. He felt an involuntary surge of pleasure in his chest as he watched Felicity descend the stairs, but he was used to that. After all, she was his friend.

She stopped short on the last step as she saw him sitting in her chair. “Oh. Hi!”

Oliver smiled and stood up, moving toward her. “Hi.”

They spoke at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

Felicity laughed and looked down.

“I thought you were in Central City.”

“Yeah, well.” She shrugged. “I was.” She stepped off the last stair and would have slipped past him, but Oliver reached out and laid his hand on her arm, sensing something was bothering her.

She shook her head, but she didn’t move away. “It’s nothing.”

“Felicity.” He slid his arm up to her shoulder and waited.

She looked up at him with an expression that he couldn’t quite identify. Self deprecation, maybe. “I was at the hospital, with Barry’s foster father and some of his friends, and it was really nice.” She looked down, nodding to herself. “They were all really nice, welcoming. Really awesome people. I was having a good time, but then it occurred to me, these people have a history, they’re a family, you know? And here I am, taking up their time and attention, and they don’t even know me. Don’t really have a reason to. Like, who am I? What am I even doing here?”

“Felicity, you -”

“When Joe West invited me to spend Christmas eve with them, I was really excited.”

“I remember.” He remembered the strange feeling in his chest when she told him about it, too. Remembered how he’d clamped down on that feeling, knowing he had no right to begrudge her a chance to be happy.

“I mean, regardless of the fact that I don’t celebrate Christmas myself, it’s a day when everyone goes off and spends time with their close friends and family, and, I dunno. I thought it would be nice to be a part of that for once.” She looked up at Oliver with sad eyes. “But rather than feeling like I was a part of something, I was reminded how much I don’t belong.”

“Hey.” Oliver squeezed her shoulder with the hand that was still resting there.

“I mean, who am I to Barry, anyway? We only just met when it happened. I’m not really a part of his life at all, definitely not part of his family. I’m not really a part of anyone’s family.”

“Felicity.” He shook her a little, to pull her out of her spiral, and placed his other hand on her shoulder, leaning down so she would focus on him. She met his eyes with a look that made him bite back unbidden words that suddenly threatened to spill out. You’re part of my life. You’re my family. When did that become true? Because he knew instantly and with bone-deep certainty that it was the truth.

She looked back at him for a long moment, and he suspected she could read some of what he didn’t say in his eyes. Eventually she blinked and spoke in a brighter tone, obviously attempting to change the subject. “What about you? I thought you were going to spend Christmas eve with your family?”

Oliver let his hands slide from her shoulders and looked away, vaguely aware that there might be other unexpected truths lurking in his eyes. “I did. I mean, mom and Thea and I had dinner and exchanged gifts, and then Thea went over to Roy’s and my mom went off to do whatever she does, and I came here.”

Felicity stared for a long moment at her chair, where he’d been sitting when she’d entered. “Why here?” She looked up at him suddenly. “You weren’t thinking of going out there, were you? We agreed we’d take tonight off.”

Oliver gave a short laugh. “No, I just….” His eyes also drifted over to her chair. “I guess I just felt more at home here.” And it was true. As much has he had insisted he spend the night with his mom and his sister, the uncomfortable truth was that the people he was closest to, the people who knew him best, were not the ones he’d come home from the island to save, but the ones who had joined him in his crusade.

He felt Felicity move toward him, close enough that her shoulder brushed against his as she came to stand beside him. “Yeah.”

Because of the life that I lead…. His words to Felicity had crystallized what he had realized months ago, that his dangerous life, the risks he took, meant that didn’t have space in his life for a relationship. But what exactly counted as a relationship? Where was the line? He was still allowed to have friends, right?

He was struck with a sudden idea. “Hey. We should get out of here. This is no place to spend Christmas eve.” He looked down to find her staring at him with one eyebrow raised, just as he expected.

“What?”

A tiny smile crept over his face. He would never admit out loud how much he enjoyed surprising her. “Come on. Let’s go see the tree at Nelson Plaza. I haven’t really gotten to see it yet this year.”

“Oliver -”

He heard the protest in her tone, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. So what that he had decided he couldn’t have a life outside of being the Arrow - that he couldn’t risk getting in a romantic relationship. That didn’t mean he couldn’t still be there for his friends, did it? Because Felicity, his team - they were more than friends; they were his family. Wanting Felicity to feel cared for? That was allowed. That was what friends - family - did for one another. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that.

* * * * * * * * * * *

They took his Ducati, and when she wrapped her arms around his waist, he realized they’d never done this before. Never ridden together on his bike. Never gone anywhere socially, just the two of them. That realization, or maybe the feeling of her chest pressed against his back, made his stomach flip with sudden misgivings, but he shoved the feeling down. He wasn’t at risk of going against his vow; he simply cared about her, and that wasn’t the same thing.

She was shivering when she climbed off the bike. “Wow, I really should have brought my heavier coat!”

Oliver began to peel his leather jacket off. “Here -”

“Hey, no! You need that! I’ll be fine.”

On an impulse, he wrapped his arm around her instead, and it wasn’t until he felt her body stiffen for a brief second before relaxing under his touch that he realized that they didn’t do things like that, either. But why shouldn’t they? Wanting someone to be safe and comfortable, that was what friends did, right?

“At least it’s not raining for once. The sky’s so clear I can see the stars.”

Oliver looked up, realizing she was right. He was struck suddenly with the memory of Tommy, of wishing on a Christmas star. Of staring up at the stars on Christmases since then, never quite forgetting the childish wish he had made. He felt a sudden rush of sorrow as he realized that, with his new realization that his life as a vigilante required him to be alone, the part of him that had never given up on the idea of one day finding true love might never get to experience it.

He was lost in his thoughts as they approached Nelson Plaza, until Felicity’s voice broke him out of his memories.

“It’s beautiful. So many thousands of lights.”

It was true. The Nelson Plaza tree gave Rockefeller Center a run for its money, and it was one of the few things of magic and beauty that Oliver remembered from his childhood that still remained. “Have you ever been to the tree-lighting?”

Felicity shook her head, her eyes never leaving the spectacle in front of them.

“We used to come every year when I was a kid. Queen Consolidated is a major sponsor, so my dad and mom would come and be part of the ceremony.” A small sigh escaped him at the memory of simpler times. “I used to feel so proud to be a part of it.”

He felt Felicity’s arm wrap around his back, but she didn’t look away from the tree, giving him the space to speak or remain silent as he chose.

Oliver laughed bitterly. “To think I prided myself on being a Queen. To think I thought that made me better. I had no idea what my family’s true legacy was built on, what it would become.”

Felicity ran her hand soothingly up and down his back, and he closed his eyes, unable to resist taking comfort and pleasure from the touch.

“Your family’s legacy is in your hands now, Oliver. You can make it something to be proud of. You are not your father. Or your mother. You’re better than that.”

He looked down at her, blonde hair glowing in the yellow light, until she returned his gaze. “You really believe that.”

“Of course I do, Oliver. I know you.”

He shook his head. “You don’t know everything.”

“I know you’re not perfect.” She lifted the corner of her mouth in a small smile. “I still haven’t forgiven you for making me your Executive Assistant without asking me.” But her tone suggested she had forgiven him enough to joke about it.

“Felicity, you don’t know the things I -”

“I know enough. You’re not your father, Oliver. You fight for the people in this city.”

Still, he couldn’t let it go. It was true that even though he hadn’t told her much about the five years he was gone, she’d seen enough over the past year to know him at his worst. But something else was still bothering him, a guilt that had been riding him for over a month, that he suddenly needed to expose under the harsh light of truth. “I’m not as unlike my father as you might think.” He held her eyes, making sure she understood he was serious. “He slept with his secretaries, his interns, his…business partners.”

He watched the reference land on her face, watched the veil of disappointment descend. She seemed at a loss for words.

What was he doing? Was he trying to hurt her? Hurt himself? Trying remind her how misplaced her belief in him was? But he knew that most of all, he needed her to have no illusions. For some reason, it was important that he was always, always honest with her. “And I’m sorry. I never meant to be like him, not like that.”

“Oliver, I….” She turned back toward the tree so he couldn’t see her face as she spoke. “You don’t need to apologize to me. You don’t owe me anything. I meant what I said. If anything, you need to apologize to yourself, because you deserve better than her.” She turned under his arm, and her eyes met his with that earnest look that always convinced him that she saw past all his masks.

He nodded, speaking lowly and held transfixed by her steady gaze. “I know. And that’s why I wanted to apologize to you. Because I know I let you down.”

A slow smile was spreading over her face, and Oliver found himself leaning down, drawing her body closer to his, eyes moving between her eyes and her mouth. Compelled toward her, heart beating in his throat, breath coming faster, not thinking, only feeling, only wanting, in a way he had never let himself want her before.

It was only for a second that seemed to stretch on forever, but then he remembered himself, remembered his promise to himself and to her, and he stopped. He gave her a small smile and a gentle squeeze before leaning away and gazing back at the tree. Because trusting someone, caring for them, needing them to be safe, knowing that they care for you, knowing that they see the real you - separately, those were all acceptable elements of friendship. But all of them together, combined with kissing? It was more than anything he’d ever felt before, for anyone. It was overwhelming, dangerous, and absolutely not something he was allowed to have. Because it was undeniably, dangerously close to love.

He knew she had recognized his intention in his eyes, and he saw something like surprise and then disappointment flit across her face before she, too, masked her emotions, but it didn’t have to mean anything if they didn’t let it, so they both remained quiet for almost a minute, letting the moment slip away.

Still, Oliver was surprised when it was Felicity who broke the silence first.

“Thanks for this. Tonight, I mean. Thanks for bringing me here.”

He turned toward her, and she tilted to meet his eyes with minimal awkwardness.

“I just mean, this is a place you associate with your family, so thanks for sharing it with me.”

“Felicity.” He paused to let the moment gain significance. “You are my family.”

Her eyes widened momentarily, and then she smiled, because they both knew it was true.

“And don’t give up on Barry.” Her smile froze a little, but he carried on. “I know you only just met him, but I can’t imagine a world where his life doesn’t get better for having you in it.”

She huffed out a surprised laugh, then nodded. “Thanks.”

He stepped back, pulling on her arm as he turned back toward the street. “You’re welcome, Felicity.”

December 24, 2018 (morning)

So much had changed in a year, and as much as Oliver tried to be stable, a rock for Felicity and William to lean on, there were times when he was completely caught off guard by how different everything seemed.

The new apartment. Working with the police. Living among the public unmasked as the Green Arrow.

William, older and more mature and with a new layer of wariness in his eyes that wounded Oliver to the core.

Felicity, with new armor and barbs covering bruises that might never completely heal. Bruises that he’d inflicted.

And the world around him on this side of prison, brighter than he remembered, but forever changed, too.

But when he thought of last Christmas, crouched under the threat of the FBI investigation and tainted by the sting of betrayal, he renewed his determination to make this year the best Christmas any of them had ever had. His family deserved it.

He rolled over onto his back, still unused to sleeping on the left side of the bed. It was one of the many small adjustments he’d had to make since being back. Apparently Felicity had slept on his side of the bed the entire time he’d been in Slabside so that by the time he came back, his side had become her side.

“Hey.”

She was also usually awake before him, which was definitely not something he was used to. “Hey.” But at least she was still in bed this morning. Some days he woke to nothing but a cold emptiness next to him, the sheets and blankets barely betraying that a person had been there at all, and those mornings were usually the start of the worst days. Thankfully, that had been happening less and less in the two-ish weeks since reality had been restored. Since he had reassured her that any version of him would love any version of her in any reality, always. He rolled on his side to face her, and his heart sped up at the sight of her.

She smiled at him and lifted her palm to his cheek. “You have that look on your face again.”

Oliver smiled. “Which look?” But he knew which look she meant. It was the look he got every time he wanted to see her and all he had to do was open his eyes to get his wish. It was the look he got when he realized he’d gotten out of the habit of taking her presence for granted.

Instead of answering, she stretched toward him, capturing his lips in a series of soft, open-mouthed kisses, grabbing his chin with one hand and running the other down his chest.

Oliver groaned and ran his hands into her hair, enjoying the sensations sparking as she raked her fingernails along sensitive areas on his body. “God, Felicity.” He leaned slightly back, momentarily breaking away from her kisses so he could see her. Somehow, despite all she had been through, she was more beautiful than he remembered. “How can I love you this much?”

Felicity’s eyes widened in surprise, but before she could say anything, he leaned forward and claimed her mouth in a demanding kiss. She responded instantly, parting her lips and wrapping her arms around him, letting him lower her down on her back.

This was also new. They had always needed each other, loved each other passionately and almost insatiably, or so he had thought. But ever since he’d gotten out of Slabside, it was if they needed physical intimacy more than they needed air. At first he thought it was only because they were substituting sex for difficult conversations, and then he thought it was a way for them to reassure themselves that they loved each other even when all their conversations inevitably led to arguments, but slowly, slowly they were working through their issues, and using words to express not just hurt but love, yet the unrelenting physical need for each other remained.

He met her eyes and she nodded, and it was all the encouragement he needed before he slid inside her. He paused a moment to let her adjust, and to just enjoy the feeling of being this close, his forearms on either side of her head, letting just a little of his weight press her into the mattress the way she liked. He took the opportunity to kiss along her neck and the underside of her jaw.

“Mmm, Oliver.” He felt the vibration of her words under his lips.

“Hmm?”

She ran her hands down his sides and over his ass, accentuating her words with a squeeze that pulled him into her more deeply, “Move.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He began to rock into her, responding to the cues of her hips. Her fingers played over his body, accentuating his pleasure, and she met him kiss for kiss. Lips, tongue, and teeth nipping, exploring, feeling, fast and slow, following and prompting the pace of their bodies.

And this, too, had taken some getting used to. As naturally as sex had always come to them, when they fell into bed again after a prison sentence apart, Oliver found that it was different, more difficult, than it had been the first time, or than it had been when they’d come together after being broken up for a year and a half. It wasn’t that it wasn’t the best sex they’d ever had, because somehow it was; it was just that their established practices and expectations were different. She was still just as sensitive to his touch as ever, she just wanted him to touch her differently. And he’d found the same went for him. They’d had to relearn each other, and the process had been bittersweet as they discovered new things about each other and realized just how much they had changed. But on the whole, Oliver couldn’t be bothered to dwell on the past. As he had told her at ARGUS, and as he rediscovered in a different way every day, their love could weather any change; the only thing that mattered was that they were together.

He felt his orgasm impending, but he knew Felicity wasn’t quite as close so he pulled away, causing her to whine a little as she chased his mouth as far as she could reach. He looked down at her with a small smile, and eventually she dragged her gaze from his lips to his eyes. “Hey. You wanna get on top?”

She read the meaning behind his words and nodded, a small smile playing over her lips. “Yeah. Normally I’d say what’s the rush, but yeah. Christmas eve and William and everything.”

Oliver’s smile deepened at the thought of all the domestic bliss that awaited them. He pulled out of her, to the accompaniment of groans on both their parts at the loss of contact, and then she was pushing him up and over onto his back with a familiar bossiness that he had missed.

She fit herself over him and sank down with a low moan, letting her breasts brush over his chest as she began to kiss him again, and this time he let his hands explore her body, over her shoulders and down her sides, grasping her hips, over her amazing ass as she rode him, and long before he’d had nearly enough time to enjoy the lines and curves of her body, she was gasping into his mouth, grinding against him and hands cupping the sides of his head as she came, and after that there was no more holding back. He thrust up into her once, twice, before coming into her with his arms wrapped around her entire body, skin against skin, heartbeat against heartbeat, holding her as close as possible, but never close enough.

She was breathing hard, and he kissed the top of her head, over and over, his mind spinning with an emotion that no words could ever contain. Love really was too small a word. “Felicity.” He whispered it into her hair. “Felicity.”

She was boneless against him, but he felt her lips against his neck, brushing against the skin and pressing occasional kisses. “Oliver.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, only a little surprised at the words that had slipped from his lips while he was trying to figure out how best to express the overwhelming amount of love he was feeling.

But Felicity didn’t seem surprised at all, and she paused her kisses only long enough to reply. “I know.”

And for just a little longer before they had to get up, he held her tightly, enjoying the warmth and weight of her body over his, and he found himself once again contemplating the nature of love. He thought he’d figured it out long ago, when he first came to terms with his feelings for Felicity. It wasn’t just about feeling pleasure, or about being adored, or about responsibility. It wasn’t only about trusting and being trusted, about seeing behind masks and being your best self, or about being willing to do anything to protect each other. It was stronger than habit. It was remembering the past but living in the present. And most difficult of all to accept, but also the most powerful, was the realization that it wasn’t conditioned upon peace or comfort. He knew that he and Felicity still had far to go to settle their issues, and they might spend their whole lives untangling this mess and getting into new ones, but that meant that he’d get to spend his whole life untangling messes with Felicity, and that above all was the happiest of ever afters he could imagine.

* * * * * * * * * * * * December 24, 2018 (evening)

“Hey, Oliver?”

There was an odd note in Felicity’s voice, which might have worried him except he could see her by the Christmas tree from his place in the kitchen. He was cooking dinner and she was placing the last of the wrapped presents under the tree. “Yeah?”

“What’s this?”

Oliver glanced at William, who was helping him in the kitchen, but his son just shrugged, so he gave his hands a quick wash and wandered over to Felicity. She was sitting on the floor holding something cupped in her palms. “What’s what?” He crouched down next to her, taking the opportunity to run his fingers through her loose hair.

She looked at him, and her eyes were filled with a strange emotion: a mix of confusion, awe, love, and little bit of apprehension.

“Hey.” His hand instantly moved to cup her face, but she lifted the object and his eyes shifted to see what she was holding. And what he saw made his heart stop.

He hadn’t seen it in over 20 years, but he recognized it instantly. A carved wooden ornament, in the shape of two hearts, with the words “My True Love” painted on it. Below and on the left, written in a childish hand in green pen, “Oliver.” And to the right, in red pen, “Felicity.”

He dragged his eyes away from the ornament to meet her wide eyes. “Where did you get this?”

“It was on the tree. Oliver, this is my handwriting, but I - I didn’t write this. I would have remembered. I’ve never seen this before in my life. Did you put it here?”

Oliver shook his head, and he watched fear become more prominent in her eyes.

“Do you think…?”

“Felicity, no. No. Baby.” He covered the hand that was holding the ornament and wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her into him. “It’s okay.”

She relaxed a little in his arms, trusting him. “You know what this is? What is it?”

Oliver grasped for an easy explanation, then laughed lightly when he realized there wasn’t one. He leaned back and looked her in the eyes. “Magic.”

“Magic?” Her tone was mildly exasperated. “Oliver, what does that mean?”

He took the ornament from her, holding it up so they could both examine it. “It’s a long story, one I’ll be happy to tell you.” He laid the ornament carefully on the ground and then took her head in his hands, gently pulling him toward her. “But the moral of the story is that I love you.” His eyes drifted to her lips and he couldn’t resist leaning down to give her one, two soft kisses.

When he leaned back and looked at her again, she was smiling at him indulgently. “Oliver Queen. You are the biggest sap. Sometimes I wonder how you ever had a reputation as a bad boy.”

He smiled into her eyes, both of them knowing that she had made all the difference. “People change, Felicity.”

He watched the reference slide home in her face, but this time she smiled more deeply without a trace of bitterness. Change had always been a part of who they were.

“I love you, Oliver Queen. Love is too small a a word.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he met her halfway.

#arrow #olicity #olicity fic #olicity secret santa 2018 #submission

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olicitysecretsanta · 5 years

Text

The Personal Shopper (Olicity Holiday)

Merry Christmas to @bifelicitys! I am your Secret Olicity Santa. I hope that you enjoy this romantic little story for the holiday!

The Personal Shopper

Felicity Smoak loved this job. Okay, technically, it wasn’t her job-job. It was her side hustle. Everybody she knew had one - an extra means of income - usually independent in nature - that she could use to make money on her off time from being a cyber-security expert at Merlyn Global in Starling City. The money was good, the work was ridiculously easy, and it was helping her to send extra cash to help her mom pay off her home in Vegas. It also helped to keep her busy and totally not thinking about how spending the holidays in a new city could make her feel a little alone. She had moved to town six months prior.

When Felicity first learned that personal shopping was an actual job, she scoffed. The idea that people paid you to shop for them sounded extravagant and, well, lazy. At first, she only purchased and set up computer systems for Luddites, people who either didn’t understand tech or were legitimately afraid of it. But last month, the agency that placed her asked her to branch out into other shopping tasks. This was how she found herself buying Christmas gifts for a very busy, very wealthy CEO. Initially, she had set up his home office and apparently he was so impressed, he asked the agency to hire her for the purchase of a slew of Christmas gifts for his friends of loved ones.

Felicity was surprised when she learned of the request. She had only exchanged a handful of emails and texts with Oliver Queen — that was his name — until that point. Of course, she knew she had good taste, a great intuition about what items were suitable, and perhaps most of all, the resourcefulness to find whatever was the right fit, no matter how difficult, but she certainly didn’t expect him to appreciate that that. But he did.

Since she had become his personal shopper, things with the businessman and Felicity had subtly shifted and there was more of a dialogue taking place between them. The emails were more frequent. There had been…texting. When he liked one of her suggestions, he always responded with text or an enthusiastic emoji. A target with an arrow sticking out of it meant she had nailed it. A goat meant the idea was exceptional. Once he had sent her a heart eyes emoji and then spent three texts explaining that his thumb had slipped and apologizing. That made her chortle for a full five minutes. The idea that a CEO would send her a text with heart eyes in it was hilarious. She had Googled him and knew that he was both handsome and notoriously single. It was best not to get infatuated with that sort of man. Still, Felicity looked forward to their exchanges. Realizing that her holiday duties would be wrapping up soon, she could not help feeling a bit sad.

On this particular Saturday morning, just days away from Christmas, Felicity entered the security code to a penthouse in what she considered the “fancy-schmancy” district of Starling. A green light on the panel signaled success. She turned the handle on a large wooden door and it swung open easily. On the other side, the clean lines, leather upholstery and muted tones of the apartment that screamed “luxurious bachelor pad.” There were a few paintings and a couple of furry pillows on a sofa, but no hint of personal decorations upon first glance. Normally this didn’t bother Felicity, but on this day it struck her that there was no hint of a holiday going on in the place.

Really, Oliver? No cheer? There was no evidence around the place, despite its beautiful furnishings, that he was celebrating Christmas. It was all grey and natural, but lacked color and, well, personality. Why didn’t he have a wreath on the front door or one of those Charlie Brown trees on a side table? It made Felicity shake her head.

The IT specialist/cyber security expert was dressed down today in yoga pants and an oversized green sweater, well aware she wouldn’t see anyone and, more importantly, no one would see her. She removed the messenger bag slung over her shoulder and slipped out of her fluffy winter coat, setting them both on stools by the breakfast bar of the kitchen island. Her boots came off next, leaving her feet covered in a pair of festive Hanukkah socks. Her grandma always kept her flush in themed hosiery. It was their thing.

Felicity had visited this apartment so many times, she had developed rituals. After leaving her footwear resting by the door, she headed to the wall of windows on the far end of the open living space. They showcased Starling City.. She stood near the glass and hugged herself against a slight draught. The brief chill was worth it for the view. It was a cold, but clear day and she could see for miles, even beyond the city.

When her reverie was done, she went to the stove and filled the stainless steel kettle that always rested on the gas burner. Early instructions on working in the empty apartment had encouraged her to make use of the kitchen, as needed. She did so gratefully. After sourcing a tea bag and a mug from the cabinets, she walked to the dining table and approached the laptop and a note that was left for her. The purchases were all made on Oliver’s laptop, which had his banking attached. It was easier that way and Felicity enjoyed working in the space, far from her small apartment and her tiny office at Merlyn Global. She also found it funny that she was tasked to work on a computer she had initially set up for the man.

Felicity had yet to cross paths with the man himself. It seemed that Oliver Queen was always out of town, or at a work event, or some gala. It had become a source of comedy, actually, how they passed without meeting. Consequently, there was always a typed note with instructions, presumably produced and placed on his dining table by his executive assistant. She had nicknamed the note-fairy “Godfrey” (although she was well aware the woman’s name was Louise) and wondered what it was like to be the sort of assistant who had to go to their boss’s apartment to deliver notes. She read an article that said CEOs sometimes had assistants do their packing. Godfrey have to pack for the man? Check the wine stash to see if any bottles were missing? (For the record, Felicity had examined the wine cabinet and even Googled a few of the labels out of curiosity, but she would never help herself to something. That was simply not right.)

Something else was not right today. The note. It was handwritten. A confident print with occasional script flourishes mixed in. Still, a man’s hand.

Dear Felicity,

First, thank you so much for everything you have done over the last months. I have appreciated your expertise more than I can say. You have done such a wonderful job sourcing gifts. It felt at times like you read my mind.

Felicity couldn’t help but smile. She felt appreciated. It had hardly felt like work to find gifts for Oliver Queen’s close friends and family members, but she liked the acknowledgment. That was something she didn’t get at her regular job.

I know that my mother is going to love the arrangement you made for the exhibit at the Starling Museum. Her friends at the garden club will be absolutely livid with jealousy and that will be like a second gift to her.

She nodded. The museum sponsorship had Moira Queen written all over it. Felicity got the idea when she saw a picture of the woman standing in front of a painting in an old issue of Architectural Digest. Did they really have an actual Monet in their actual house? She would have to ask sometime. Yeah, sure.

Dad will really enjoy the new turntable and the box set of Rolling Stones records (and they will make Mom crazy). We might need to think about head phones.

She giggled. It had not been her intention to create friction at the Queen Mansion, but when her research revealed that the retired business leader had been in a Stones cover band in college, it just felt right. Now she imagined Robert Queen strutting around his library like Mick Jagger and it made her extremely happy. The man deserved a little rock and roll in his life.

That amazing bottle of scotch is probably more than my best friend deserves, but it is Christmas. I’m not sure how you found it, but you are quite remarkable. He is going to owe me big time.

The bottle of Macallan for Tommy Merlyn required a bit of horse trading with a liquor dealer in Coast City and thirty minutes of free advice on the topic of secure point of sale systems. It was worth it and she was victorious. Now, she found it rather funny that she had helped arrange a gift for her boss’s son.

The Lieber bag you picked out for Thea is perfect for her collection. Thank you for figuring out which one she wanted.

She wondered if Oliver knew that his baby sister, Thea Queen, was an a-plus operator. As soon as Felicity started digging around to figure out a good gift for the young fashion student, Thea herself reached out and gave her several excellent suggestions and sources for the perfect treat.

All of the other gifts — the Disney package for the Diggles, the wallet for Walter Steele and the treats for the Board, were, again perfect. I am sure that my assistant is going to be very pleased with the cashmere wrap (and a hefty bonus).

Felicity knew that wrap was very, very nice. She just couldn’t imagine Godfrey wearing it. Well, she honestly couldn’t imagine Godfrey, period. And she liked it that way. Some mysteries were best left alone - as long as they weren’t technological.

One the subject of bonuses, please see the envelope (just between us) and accept it with my sincere thanks. You are obviously a clever, observant and nice person. I have enjoyed our messaging back and forth very much during this stressful end of year. You have made me laugh and, well…thank you. O

Felicity blushed a little from the complements and then noticed the aforementioned envelope. She looked inside and her eyes bugged out when she saw the amount. It was too generous.

She pushed away from the table and stood up, feeling the need to pace. She never expected any kind of gesture like this from a client and she didn’t know how to respond. Should she refuse it and risk offending him? Her brain was clouding up with ethical concerns. Finally, she grabbed her phone and found the familiar contact in her messaging program.

FS: You are too generous.

A few moments passed. Then she saw dots pulsing on the screen.

OQ: Not at all. You deserve it. You saved Christmas for me with my family. That means a lot.

FS: I do appreciate it. Thank you.

OQ: Are you headed out of town to visit your Mom for the holidays?

Felicity smiled. It was funny how much information had been shared in both directions while doing this job. Of course, it had been necessary to learn about Oliver in order to pick out appropriate gifts, but revealing information about herself had just happened naturally as they exchanged messages.

FS: No. She is going to Reno with her cousin. It’s a non-stop party with those two through New Years. They wear me out.

Oliver responded with a celebrating emoji and a smiley face.

FS: Are you going to be traveling for business through Christmas?

OQ: No, I actually got back last night.

An alarm bell went off in Felicity’s head at the same time the tea pot whistled. She nearly jumped out of her chair.

FS: You’re here?

OQ: At my parents through lunch. Tonight there’s a Christmas gala for…something. I’ll be by later to get my tux.

Felicity breathed a sigh of relief and headed to pour the water in the cup, phone still in hand.

OQ: Just relax and have that cup of tea.

She stopped and looked around the kitchen.

FS: How did you know I’m making tea at your place? Did you get cameras?

OQ: Creepy. No. I could never something like that past a security expert like you. I do get a notification when the alarm is disabled. Remember? You told me to set that up months ago.

Felicity smirked and submerged the tea bag in the bubbling cup.

FS: Very good. But that doesn’t explain how you know I’m making a cup of tea.

OQ: Every time I come home when you’ve been there, the only trash you leave behind is tea-related.

FS: That’s very observant of you, Mr. Holmes.

OQ: Thank you, Watson.

FS: But maybe the tea drinker is Godfrey.

A laughing emoji was the response.

OQ: That nickname.

FS: Not on-point?

OQ: Eerily accurate. Louise is a gem though.

FS: She must be to go through your unmentionables.

OQ: What???

FS: I read that some CEOs have their assistants pack for them.

OQ: That’s just wrong. I must admit, I do get a lot of help to manage my life, but I would never ask someone to do that.

FS: Good. I didn’t think you would be that kind of boss.

Felicity curled up on the sectional with her cup of tea. A handy throw within arm’s reach was pulled across her lap.

OQ: There was that one time though.

Felicity quirked an eyebrow and sent a similar emoji.

OQ: I had a business trip to Washington, DC and it got extended from two days to five. Louise had underwear and socks delivered to me. New. From Amazon. Totally unsolicited.

FS: So, she never touched your actual drawers then?

OQ: No drawers…of any kind. Ever. Jesus. I do have to make eye contact with her sometimes.

Felicity giggled into her cup and took a sip.

FS: I just realized, I am pulling you away from holiday merrymaking with your family. Decking the halls and such.

OQ: We don’t actually do that. Mother has the staff decorate. This year’s theme is silver and angst.

A chuckle erupted from the blonde.

FS: Don’t you miss putting up your tree?

OQ: Maybe a little. But I travel so much. I’m not around to pitch in anyway.

Felicity felt the conversation mood slipping. Even though she knew she should end it, she didn’t it to be on a sad note.

FS: My mother decorated a tree entirely with tacky earrings one year. That was special.

OQ: Aren’t you Jewish?

FS: My mother likes to decorate. Christian holidays have been appropriated. And she has A LOT of earrings. Another year we made ornaments out of aluminum foil.

OQ: That sounds very special.

FS: We Smoaks are resourceful.

OQ: You are a lot of things, Felicity. Very remarkable.

FS: Thank you for remarking on it. So, you have a gala tonight. What’s it for?

OQ: A worthwhile cause.

FS: You don’t know, do you?

OQ: Nope.

FS: But you’ll still show up looking pretty, right?

Felicity pressed send before she thought about it. She grimaced. That was a much too flippant thing to say to Oliver Queen, her client. She really needed to work on her babbling via text. After a moment or two, there was a response.

It was a blushing emoji.

FS: I think I should probably leave you to your day.

OQ: No problem. I do need to go to brunch. Have a great Saturday. And thank you again.

The end of Oliver’s text was filled with all manner of silly emojis. A snowman. Eyeballs. A scarf. A unicorn.

What a nice man, she thought. And a generous one - to friends, family, and colleagues.

Suddenly, Felicity wanted to do something nice for Oliver Queen. Maybe it was crazy, but she would try. She just didn’t have a lot of time.

>>—>

It was mid-afternoon when Oliver emerged from the elevator to the penthouse floor of his building carrying a sack of leftovers from his parents’ house. The housekeeper, Raisa, never let him leave empty-handed. He probably would have come home a little later, but he was intrigued. His security system had been disengaged two hours earlier with the code he had provided to Felicity Smoak and it had not been reset. Curiosity pulled at him and he was just a little worried that she might not be okay.

He had left the note and check early that morning, wanting to be sure she had a nice holiday and knew how much she was appreciated, but as the day had worn on with activities at the mansion, he had really only been thinking of her and their texts.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Oliver was struck by the smell of cinnamon and pine. Over near the window, he caught sight of her - a petite blonde with her back to him, reaching up to put a paper snowflake on a sizable Christmas tree. She was adorable from the back, her pony tail swishing back and forth. And when she lifted her arms, the sweater she was wearing revealed a rather tantalizing yoga pant situation. He had Googled her months ago when he decided to give her access to his home, so he knew how attractive she was, on top of being an exceptionally gifted tech genius. It still burned him that Merlyn had hired her before she was on QC’s radar. But maybe things worked out the way they were supposed to.

Rather than startle her, he just stood and marveled at the room. There were boughs of holly and sprigs of greenery placed carefully around the room. Candles (the battery-operated ones that looked pretty authentic from a distance) flickered on tables. She had obviously worked fast. His apartment looked like an actual home today - not just an extension of his office or a hotel suite. He wanted to smile, but guarded his features, waiting for the woman to turn to face him.

When she did, she took his breath away, just a little. Her glasses had slipped down her nose and she gasped at his sudden appearance.

“Oliver. I mean, Mister Queen. I’m…” Felicity grimaced, suddenly realizing that this spontaneous idea might not be welcome and she had majorly overstepped. Perhaps the man didn’t want all of this holiday nonsense cluttering up his streamlined existence.

He liked her voice. It was feminine and he wanted to hear more of it.

“You’ve been busy,” he deadpanned.

“I just thought,” Felicity stammered as she moved to collect the paper snowflakes she was cutting at the dining table, “you might enjoy some cheer in your home. I am so sorry I intruded. I can come back later when you aren’t home and clear it away.” She wasn’t making eye contact now.

“Felicity,” Oliver sighed her name for the first time. It felt nice on his lips. “Felicity,” he repeated, finally causing her to stop and look at him. “You will do no such thing.”

“No?”

“This is the absolute best present I have gotten in a long time,” he spoke warmly and approached her at the table.

She bit her lip and looked away, her fingers worrying at a snowflake so much that it was becoming confetti on the floor.

“It wasn’t a big deal, I…”

“I don’t mean mean the decorations. I mean you,” he stepped closer to her and touched her elbow gently. Felicity looked up at him, breathless. He really was a looker, as her grandma would say. She swallowed hard and swore not to say anything ridiculous for as long as possible.

Oliver got lost in her blue eyes and stopped speaking, then suddenly realized what he had just said. It sounded kind of overbearing. “Not…not that you’re my present,” he actually stammered. “I mean, your friendship. Meeting you has been such an unexpected gift these last months. Do you understand?” Oliver’s voice was barely a whisper as he studied her face for a response.

The blonde had to escape his intense gaze, so she looked down at her Hanukkah socks and flexed her toes. Oh geez, she was wearing crazy socks in front of this beautiful man. It suddenly occurred to her that he didn’t care. Felicity blinked and a smile erupted across her sweet face. “Well, technically, we haven’t met yet.”

“Holy shit, you’re right.” The tall man threw his head back with a chuckle. Then he gathered himself as he would before a business meeting. He stepped back and bowed his head slightly.

“Hello. My name is Oliver,” He stalled, then, to make it clear that he was not his father. “Oliver Queen. I am an over-scheduled businessman who is completely reliant on other people to do basically everything for him.” He offered his hand to her, quite formally.

Felicity stood a little straighter and reached out to meet his hand with hers. “Hello. I’m Felicity Smoak MIT Class of Oh-Nine and I am occasionally nosey and completely inappropriate.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Felicity.”

“Oliver.” She said his name and it sounded sweet to his ears. She grinned afterwards because she liked the sound of it too.

“Felicity, if you aren’t busy tonight, could you stay and help me decorate this tree? Have dinner?”

“Sure. But you have a thing. A gala thing tonight.” She tried not to look disappointed.

Oliver thought about the situation for a moment and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. His expression encouraged her to wait while he attended to something. He drafted a text and hit send. Then he waited.

“I like your socks,” he said idly. He liked everything about Felicity Smoak, actually, but it was a little early to share that.

“Thank you,” she brightened. “A present from my grandma.”

“Have I mentioned how extraordinary you are, Felicity Smoak?”

“Not in the past ninety seconds.”

There was then a ping on Oliver’s phone. He looked down at the screen and grinned. He sent another text back. There was a reply. And then another exchange. When it all ended, Oliver breathed a cleansing breath and looked more relaxed.

“What is it? What just happened?” Felicity couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer.

Oliver turned the phone to show her the conversation. Felicity moved closer and leaned in to read the screen.

OQ: I need you to do the gala thing tonight in my place.

TMerlyn: What’s it for?

OQ: A worthy cause.

TMerlyn: You always say that.

OQ: it’s always true.

TMerlyn: Why me? Or should I say, why not you?

OQ: I am decorating my apartment tonight with my new friend. And you owe me.

TMerlyn: Thank God, you old hermit. Is she pretty? Does she have a friend. Hey, how do I owe you?

OQ: You will when you see your Xmas present.

TMerlyn: It better be good, Ollie. And you better send a nice donation to the worthy cause.

OQ: Will do. Night Tommy.

Felicity’s heart was beating, being this close to Oliver and having witnessed his private conversation. He wanted to get to know her better. She shivered a little at the prospect.

“I am suddenly free.” He looked down at her, nearly a head shorter than him and beamed. His eyebrow quirked with an unanswered question.

“Well, since you are free, I guess it’s good that I am as well.”

“Yay,” he cheered, just loud enough for her to hear.

“You know, you really need to slow down and take more time for yourself, Oliver.”

“I absolutely agree. And that starts tonight. You could show me how to make these snowflakes for the tree.”

Oliver took her hand and led her back toward the tree. He didn’t let go and hoped she wouldn’t mind/didn’t notice.

“Oh, I don’t know. That’s pretty advanced. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Maybe you’re right. I should work my way up to paper crafts.” Oliver looked from her to the tree and sported a playful grin. Next to him, her voice piped up. It was becoming his favorite voice.

“Right. So, Oliver, do you have any aluminum foil?”

The End

and

Merry Christmas!

#arrow #olicity #olicity fic #olicity secret santa 2018 #submission

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olicitysecretsanta · 5 years

Text

Wrapped up

For @sadfangirl05 by @sparklesannie

Fluffy: Best Friends AU.

“Smoak!” Oliver called out as he made his way through the whole IT department of QC finally making a stop at the door to her office.

Head of IT Department

Felicity M. Smoak

He’ll never get used to that title—even though she’s been the head of the department for five years already.

“Smoak- hey there you are! You said you were coding but you weren’t in the server room.”

It’s where she normally goes to code, it’s the only place where she knows she won’t be disturbed.

“Yeah, I decided to do it from my office.” She says without even looking up, her voice muffled by the pen she’s chewing on. The only one who can understand her when she does this is Oliver, but of course he’s had a ton of practice. “What’s—Do I smell coffee?” She asks finally looking up and yanking the pen from her red colored lips.

Oliver smiles. After all these years he’s finally figured out how to get Felicity’s attention when she’s coding.

Coffee.

“Indeed, you do. Here,” Oliver offers her a big to-go cup from Jitters. “I bought you a Peppermint Mocha to celebrate the beginning of the holiday season.”

“Very thoughtful.” Felicity hums appreciatively as she sips her coffee. “Thank you. So…what do you really want—and don’t say nothing because we both know you only bring me coffee when you need something from me. So… shoot, what can I do for you?”

“You know me too well.” Oliver winks at his best friend. “When does Hanukkah start this year?”

She looks a little surprised and confused by the question but still answers all the same. “Tomorrow. Why?”

“I was thinking it’s about time we learned about our holidays. So I’m staying over at your place until Hanukkah is over and I was thinking you could come over to my place to celebrate Christmas.”

“I’ve never done Christmas before. But I’m so busy with the company and the new software we’re implementing. I’m sorry Oliver but I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Lis come on. All you do is work, work, work. Besides you’re the boss here, which means you can—”

“Uh-uh. Don’t ‘Lis’ me you know I can’t resist it. And you’re one to talk Mr-I’ll-sleep-when-the-restaurant-opens. When was the last time you took a day off?”

Feeling attacked Oliver crossed his arms over his chest. Yes, he has been busy too, and like Felicity, he too is the boss. He’s been working nonstop for the past six months on opening his very own restaurant. And with the opening date getting closer he’s been spending a lot of time making sure everything is set in place. “Fair enough. How about I’ll take the time off if you agree to celebrate Christmas with me.”

A beat of silence passes as Felicity wages wether to say yes or no, then a huge smile appears on her face and a sparkle in her eyes he’s never seen before. “Oliver Queen you are way too easy. Of course I’ll do it. And since you can actually cook we can even make latkes! Ooh! This is going to be so fun!”

Did she just trick me into taking a mini vacation.

Smoak: 1

Queen: 0

*****on the last day of Hanukkah ****

Felicity insisted that he didn’t have to buy her presents for Hanukkah but he did it anyways. He wanted to, plus he liked showering his best friend with gifts.

He got her a lot of useful things like, computer parts and processors, earrings, makeup, a beautiful red dress he insisted she saved for the Christmas dinner his parents hosted every year. He also got her a new platinum menorah with her name engraved on the bottom, a collection of Doctor Who DVDs and lastly a hand stitched red stocking to hang on her fire place.

He got a kick of saving the stocking for last.

“Aww! It has my name on it!” She jumped excitedly from the couch to hug him. “Thank you!” She presses her lips to his cheek.

Oliver could feel his face getting warmer thanks to the rush of blood that flowed up to his cheeks. It’s not the first time she’s kissed his cheeks but that doesn’t seem to matter.

It’s embarrassing that he’s almost thirty years old and has a crush on his female best friend. Total fucking cliché.

“Whoops! Sorry about that.” And he’s still blushing when she uses her thumb to wipe the lipstick stain she left there. “So what did you think? You like Hanukkah?”

“It was really nice. Definitely way more meaningful than what my family does to celebrate Christmas. Now I feel like you’re not going to like it.”

“I doubt it. Not that I know much about it but it always looks fun in the movies.”

***** Christmas Eve ****

It was Christmas Eve and Oliver called Felicity to make sure she remembered to pack a bag. Sure she had a change of clothes at his apartment but that was for emergencies only.

She would crash at his place often especially around the time the quarterly reports were due at QC. She would work until the wee hours of the night and she would stay over at his guest room since he lived so close to the office.

He also kept an overnight bag at her place. More often than he cares to admit he’s faked being drunk or drunker than he really was just so he could stay over at her place. In truth it wasn’t just staying over at her place that he liked, what he really liked was that she babied him. She would tuck him into bed, drop a kiss to his forehead—probably thinking that he wouldn’t notice. But he did.

He’d tried to confess his not platonic feelings for her but he never went through with it because he knew she wouldn’t take him seriously if he was ‘drunk’.

He knew that she cared for him but just how much he had no idea. She never crossed any boundaries or said anything that might even suggest she even found him attractive.

They were just friends. Best friends.

“So we can stay at my parents house—”

“I think you mean castle.”

“Mansion?” He offers and he can practically hear her nod in approval over the phone. “As I was saying, we can stay over there tonight so we can have a proper Christmas morning with family and presents.”

Originally they planned to go to his parents’ dinner then go back to his apartment and then open presents on Christmas morning. But Oliver knew that the more time he spent alone with Felicity the more opportunities he’d have to screw up their friendship.

And there is nothing more important to him than Felicity.

“Yeah, That sounds nice. By the way thanks for helping out again with Christmas shopping. It’s really difficult shopping for billionaires.”

Oliver chuckles, he had the same problem shopping for Felicity’s presents. Though his problem had more to do with the what he really wanted to buy her not his budget.

“No problem. So I’ll pick you up around six, that okay?”

“Yeah, see you. Don’t forget the wine!”

“I won’t.”

********** *********

He knows how gorgeous the red dress he bought her is. But he’s not prepared at all to be so blown away by the way it fits her. The straps hang low around her shoulders and the sweetheart neckline accentuates her collarbones and makes her neck appear to be even longer. Tempting him to run his hands over her body and plant kisses all over her neck and shoulders. Her hair is done up, pulled back into what looks like a low bun and a couple of curls frame her face that is devoid of her usual glasses. A thin gold chain he recognizes- it was a birthday present from earlier this year- hangs from her neck. The dress is loosely draped on her lower body, a high split on her left leg shows a decent amount of gorgeously toned thigh.

Felicity looks smoking hot. Pun very much intended.

Felicity has been waiting for a good minute by the door, but his brain has yet to register that.

“Is it too much? It’s too much, right? Is it the hair? Maybe if I wear it down instead—”

“No! No. It’s good like that. You, um, look very—you—Wow.” Since when does he fumbles like an idiot? Oliver shakes his head as if to shake his brain back to function. “You look incredible, Felicity.”

She smiles brightly at him, her cheeks seem pinker than usual. “You don’t look bad yourself. Come on in, I’m gonna need help with my bag and the pre— did you bring the wine?”

“Yes. It’s in the car.” Oliver smiles as he walks past her to grab the wrapped presents she bought for his family. He can feel her eyes on him.

Is she checking him out?

Oliver bends more than necessary making sure to really bend his knees thus flexing his butt. He hears a whimper and oh yeah, she’s definitely checking him out.

But when Oliver turns around he sees why Felicity is making that noise. She’s struggling to reach the zipper on her back it’s halfway done.

So she wasn’t checking him out.

“Oh, here let me. I got it.” Oliver drops his cargo and walks over to Felicity. He gently grabs the zipper with one hand and with the other he secures the ends of the zipper before pulling it closed. “There. All done.”

Zipping up his best friend was not a good idea. He hadn’t planned to be in such close proximity much less this level of domesticity. Her soft skin beneath his fingertips, the smell of her perfume enveloping him and when she turns around he realizes just how closely together they were standing.

Her eyes roam over his face before smiling. “Okay then let’s go.”

Oliver helps her into her coat and grabs her bag and the presents.

They are greeted by his sister when they get to the mansion.

“Speedy. Good to see you.” Oliver drops a kiss to his baby sister’s forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Ollie.” His sister responds. “Felicity, I didn’t know you were joining us.” Thea says as she hugs Felicity.

“Yeah, well Oliver convinced me to celebrate Christmas with him this year.”

His sister arches an eyebrow at him. She knows about his not so little crush on Felicity. Apparently it’s more obvious than he thought, the only one who doesn’t see it is Felicity.

“Well then, come on drop you coat and let’s get you a drink.” Thea offers and pulls Felicity along to the main living area.

Oliver hands off their bags and gifts to Raisa and she assures him she’ll put them up in their room. Rooms. She definitely said rooms.

When Oliver steps into the main room looking for Thea and Felicity. He finds Thea by the bar but she’s with her boyfriend Roy not Felicity.

He spots Felicity over with his parents by the fireplace, he walks over.

“Oliver, dear.” His mother greets him with a hug and a kiss. “My beautiful boy.”

“Mom.” Oliver widens his eyes in mock embarrassment, still he presses a kiss to her cheek then turns towards his father to hug him. “Hey, Dad.”

“Son.” Robert replies with a smile and offers him a glass of scotch which he gratefully accepts.

Oliver continues to watch the exchange between Felicity and his mother.

“I must say Felicity that dress is stunning.”

“Oh, thank you. Actually it was a Hanukkah present from Oliver.”

Moira glances back at him, clearly impressed by his taste in women’s fashion. “Good choice. Very festive and very beautiful.”

______________________

The rest of the night goes off smoothly. They have dinner in the formal dining room. Oliver makes sure to point out to Felicity that his parents only ever use the formal dining room for special occasions such as Christmas or birthdays.

Felicity asks about their traditions for this holiday. Oliver tells her about when he and Thea were younger, how they used to race each other to see who could finish eating a candy cane first. Thea always won because she cheated. Also he liked seeing his sister win.

Once they’re done with dinner they move back to the main living area to watch It’s a wonderful life before going to sleep.

“Well if you all excuse us Robert and I will head to bed now. We’ll see you in the morning.” Moira excuses herself and her husband.

Thea fell asleep on Roy halfway through the movie so Roy gently picks Thea up and heads upstairs to their room.

It seems like it was just yesterday that his baby sister used to run circles around him and Tommy. Oliver still can’t believe that Thea is twenty-three years old, a grown woman right before his eyes. He couldn’t be more proud of his sister. She is currently finishing off college to join Tommy’s latest business venture gentrifying The Glades.

“Hey,” Felicity pokes his side pulling him from his thoughts.

He’d forgotten that he lent her his jacket and he can’t help the way his chest tightens when he looks at her and sees her being dwarfed by his clothes. “I’m sorry I spaced out. What’d you say?”

“It’s midnight. Merry Christmas.” Pushing herself up by pressing a hand to his chest Felicity presses her lips to his cheek where they linger before sitting back down. Felicity burrows her face in his chest and sighs in contentment.

“Merry Christmas.” His heart hammers at a painful pace threatening to jump out of his chest. He can’t help it. Felicity is looking up at him with that joyful smile of hers that brightens up your day. Suddenly Oliver thinks that she can feel his traitorous heartbeat, then she speaks.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“I kinda wanna get out of this dress.”

Holy shit, Smoak! What are you doing to me? Oliver thinks to himself. If it were up to him he’d rip off that dress with his teeth.

“Of course.” Oliver gets up from the couch and offers her a hand up. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

Oliver shows Felicity to her room that’s actually across from his. He helps Felicity unzip her dress then he’s gone to his room. He barely sleeps that night with the image of his hands gently taking off her clothes.

*****XMAS MORNING *****

Felicity knocks on Oliver’s bedroom door, giddy with excitement. She’s practically bouncing on the balls of her feet but Oliver doesn’t open the door. So she opens the door and walks in to wake him up.

It’s not the first time she’s done it, she does it all the time when he sleeps over at her place.

Oliver lies face down with his arms hugging the pillow, the duvet is a mess wrapped around his legs. He’s shirtless but Felicity can see his pj bottoms peeking out from under the covers.

Damn his gorgeous perfectly toned ass.

“Oliver.” Felicity gently sits on the edge of the mattress and shakes his shoulder.

In a swift -and not thought through- move Felicity lays down on top of him and puts her arms around his torso, her hands coming to rest one across his chest and the other on his abs. “Come on! It’s time for presents!” She squeezes him to emphasize her urgency.

Oliver grumbles in response something she can’t understand. “What was that?”

“I said,” Oliver turns his head to the side so his voice isn’t muffled by the pillow anymore and grabs both of her hands and pulls them to his chest. “This has been gift enough.”

Felicity’s heartbeat quickens to an alarming rate, she’s still plastered to his back and all she wants to do right then and there is plant one on him. Oh how she wishes she could have the guts to make a move already. But she doesn’t so she settles for dropping a kiss to his cheek. “Oh, well then I guess I’m the gift that keeps on giving. Come on I wanna open presents!”

—————

After copious amounts of coffee and delicious french toast, Oliver and his family gather around the Christmas tree to swap presents.

He is happy to see that everyone has given gifts to Felicity despite her invitation to go along with him was last minute. Moira must have sent Raisa on an emergency shopping trip.

Oliver and Felicity are the ones left to swap presents.

“Merry Christmas Felicity.” Oliver says as he extends a manila folder for her to take.

He watches intently as she opens it and studies the contents. He can see the exact moment when she realizes what he’s actually giving her.

“Oliver! You can’t be serious!” She screeches.

The papers state that he’s giving her twenty five percent of his trust fund. He is investing in her. Her dreams and her vision. Because he believes in her.

“I am serious, Felicity. For as long as I’ve known you all you ever talked about is your dream of one day creating your own tech. So of course I’m giving you that chance. I believe in you.”

Unshed tears shine in her eyes and she smiles at him still not knowing if she should laugh or cry. Oliver hugs her to him and she settles comfortably on his chest. “Thank you so much, Oliver.” She whispers as he drops a kiss to her forehead.

Felicity squeezes him before pulling away to pepper his cheeks with kisses, one lands half on his lips. They both blush profusely but before anyone can say anything, specially his sister, Felicity urges him to open up her gift.

It’s a small green box wrapped with a red bow. It doesn’t weigh much, in fact it almost feels like it’s empty.

Carefully he unwraps the bow and takes off the lid of the box. He’s confused by what’s inside it.

Mistletoe?

Does she even know what you’re supposed to do when you’re under it?

Everyone is quiet waiting for his reaction. When he finally finds his voice it comes out lower than he anticipated. “Umm…Do you know what this is for?”

Felicity doesn’t say anything, instead she puts both hands on his cheeks and pulls him to her. She plants her soft lips on his and it feels like time has stopped. Everything around them disappears and it’s just him and Felicity like he’s always wished.

He’s ripped from this fantasy when he hears his sister ‘aww’ from behind him.

“Felicity?” He asks dumbfounded because he’s an idiot that hasn’t realized Felicity’s feelings for him. That this isn’t one sided.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to get a clue. You are a good friend—the very best. You’re smart, caring, charming and handsome and I’ve been waiting four years for you to ask me out!”

“I had no idea you felt this way.”

“I’ve been single since the day we met. Do you have any idea how many dates I’ve turned down?! A lot Oliver, a lot. Not even a coffee.” Thea chuckles at that in the background while Felicity continues to lay it on him. “You seriously didn’t notice? I thought I’d made it obvious with the forehead kisses, the hand holding, the lingering glances…I’m pretty sure I cuddled y—” she doesn’t get to finish because Oliver is kissing her now.

One hand on her back the other cradles her cheek as he kisses her. Right there in the middle of living room, in front of his family.

Best Christmas ever!!

Hope you liked it <3 happy holidays

#arrow #olicity #olicity fic #olicity secret santa 2018 #submission

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olicitysecretsanta · 5 years

Text

True Loves Gifts: AN 2018 SECRET SANTA GIFT

@christinabeggs: May you Holiday be bright and full of Olicity dessert. I hope you enjoy this fic. It gave me the gift OF writing again and finding the joy of creating something new.

TRUE LOVES GIFTS:

After months of long nights in the office, smoldering looks over the computer screen Felicity has a date with one of the most eligible bachelors in Starling City. A handsome billionaire her mother would be proud to call son. They share a concern for making their relationship public considering he is technically her boss. A few whispered conversations and an upcoming Winter Gala made Felicity his date.

Ray was everything she’d dreamed of as a potential husband. He was brilliant, charismatic, funny, he valued her mind as much as her body.

Felicity has a little over a week to find the perfect dress, make a hair appointment to touch up her roots. Her work schedule left her with only one day to get everything done.

She throws her hair up in a messy bun, her comfortable shopping outfit leggings and oversize sweater. Felicity grabs her purse, texting Renee about her hair emergency. Felicity is looking down unaware of the person standing in her hallway until she slams into the hard body.

Felicity lets out a yelp before falling backwards on her butt. Her glasses fall off her nose turning the world into blurry shades of green and brown.

“Hey!?” Felicity snaps. “Anyone get the name of the tree I ran into? Ouch, sorry I didn’t see you.”

She looks up at the man standing in front of her, he’s wearing head to toe camouflage. Half his face is covered with a full beard. His hair is shaggy under the green ball cap he wore. The rest of his face hidden behind dark sunglasses. On his shoulder is a stuffed duffle bag.

“I didn’t know camouflage works in urban hallways,” Felicity tilts her head to the side. She sees his lips twitch, at least she thinks they did. It was hard to tell with the dead animal on his face.

“Are you okay?” the tree of a man has a deep rich amused voice.

Something about him seems familiar. He reaches down helping her get to her feet. He smells of sand and a faint hint of spice.

“Oliver in 2B?!” Felicity says with a snap of her fingers.

He was a ARMY something or other and had been deployed for over eighteen months. She had a bit of a crush on him before he’d left but never had the courage to tell him. They had been friendly neighbors, he’d help her with projects around the apartment. She’d save his computer from him. On rare occasions he’d cook her dinner.

The first few months after he left she’d send him care packages full of cookies made by the bakery down the block and a few pictures of her Sunday adventures. She stopped writing when he never wrote her back.

“Felicity 2A, good to see you.” Oliver’s says softly.

Felicity looks down at her rumpled clothes, drags a hand over her hair.

“Welcome home,” her phone dings in her pocket. “I have to run, glad you made it back.”

Felicity rushes past him, she can feel his eyes watching her, she refuses to give him the satisfaction of turning back. Oliver had been a short term crush from some long ago dream. Ray Palmer was a viable future. She has a date to get ready for and no time to waste thinking about Oliver 2B.

….

Renee does an amazing job on her hair color. He practices a few different updos depending on style of dress. His vote is something short to show off her legs. She promises him pictures before running off for dress shopping.

She hits the major stores trying on different styles, colors, lengths, fabrics nothing feels right. Felicity finds a small boutique she’d only read about in a magazine. The dresses are stunning. The price tags shocking.

A skin tight beaded red dress catches her eye.

Standing in front of the mirror Felicity wonders what Oliver would say if he saw her in this dress. Would his eyes follow the deep V of the neck line or would he be drawn to the mid thigh length.

She shakes her head of Oliver thoughts. This dress isn’t for him, it’s for Ray.

It’s for her future.

Felicity runs her hand over the beads, her finger drawing along the intricate designs. She’d need a new bra, a little something intimate to match. A new pair of shoes that’d kill her feet and make her legs appear longer. It would be cold, Felicity is going to need a wrap to keep her warm. Is Ray the kind of guy to offer her his coat?

A few hours later, Felicity stumbles into her apartment. She spent way more than she should have. Probably will live off top ramen for a few weeks. It’s worth it. She puts away her purchases then collapses on the couch.

Pulling out her cell phone she considers calling Ray. Felicity puts her phone down when she remembers Ray turns his phone off on Sunday’s, she’d see him tomorrow. They have an early meeting with a new client.

A loud buzzing from her intercom startles her. Felicity press the button, the image of a teenager holding a bag filled the small monitor.

“Yes?” she asks in confusion.

“Delivery for 2A.”

“I didn’t order anything?” It has been a long day but she would have remembered ordering food.

The kid sighs, “well someone did and I’m supposed to deliver it. So do you want it or not?”

“What is it?” Felicity recognizes the logo on the bag. It’s the best kosher deli in the city.

“Latkes,” the teenager taps his toe.

She has only had Solomon’s Latkes a few times and they were amazing. “I’ll be right down. Oh, how much?” Felicity reaches for her purse.

“Paid for including the tip.”

“You sure they are for 2A?” Felicity is highly suspicious, also hungry.

“Come on lady I have two more deliveries, if you don’t want them I’ll leave.” The kid pulls out his phone.

“No way am I turning down Latkes, two minutes.”

Felicity runs out the door in her socks. Her feet slide on the hardwood floor, her arms pinwheel and she starts to fall back. A strong arm wraps around her waist and pulls her back into a warm chest. She inhales the smell of warm spices. The tip of her ear brushes against coarse hair.

“We got to stop meeting like this 2B.” Felicity’s voice is low. She licks her lips.

“Just trying to help 2A.” Oliver’s says in her ear.

His hands slide up her sides onto her shoulders and he gently places her steady on her feet. She misses his warmth instantly. He stays a few inches behind her, the heat radiating between them. Felicity fears if she turns around she will do something crazy and throw herself back in his arms.

“Very kind of you 2B. Well, I have latkes waiting.” Felicity steps away from him for the second time today. Each step harder than the first.

“Merry Christmas 2A,” Oliver calls out to her.

Felicity stops, she turns around. She sees him standing tall, his back straight, shoulder tight taking up the entire space of the hall with his size. He is out of the uniform, a black tee shirt cling to his chest. His arms were bigger, she wants to drag her hand over the lines of his chest. His jeans hug his hips. He is bigger, broader more gladiator than a simple soldier. His beard still covers his face. Unlike last time she could see his piercing blue eyes. When she meets his eyes something in his body eases.

“Thanks, but I’m Jewish.” Felicity corrects. She swore they’d talked about this before. Maybe she wrote it in a letter. Oliver didn’t remember, why should she care.

“Oh then, Happy Hanukkah 2A.” Oliver steps back, walks into his apartment and closes the door. .

“Lateks, I have Lateks.”

She hesitates another moment. She used to linger in the hall until he’d open his door and ask about her day. They would talk from their doorways until she’d slip out of her shoes. He’d tease her about being tiny and tell her to have a nice night before disappearing behind his door. The time he was gone the hallway felt empty and cold. She’d walk by his door and know he wasn’t home. The hallway became colder, everything a little more empty. It felt as if even the building held its breath.

Felicity smiles knowing he is behind the door, Oliver was home safe. It would take her time to get used to him being home. Maybe they would even get back to the way they use to be. Her letters never revealed how she’d felt, she has no reason to be mad at him.

She slowly turns away from the door and down the stairs. The teen gave up waiting, leaving her strange delivery on the front porch. Felicity brings the bag inside, locks her door and sets her alarm. She opens the bag, inside with the receipt, there is a note.

On the first night of Hanukkah my True love gave to me a platter of latkes.

She looks at her calendar and realizes that she’d almost forgotten in all her rushing. The card wasn’t signed. The only logical person has to be Ray. She’d told him about the deli and her love of the food. Felicity couldn’t believe he’d done this for her. It was thoughtful and sweet.

Facility hated surprises but she is sure this years Hanukkah was going to be special.

…

Each day following she receives a small gift arriving near sunset with a short message.

On the second day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a dreidel made of wood.

She was sure it was handmade.

On the third day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me an ugly Jewnicorn sweater.

The blue sweater makes her laugh out loud when she pulls it from the box. A white unicorn surrounded by Stars of David and a blue and gold rainbow. It is terrible and she loves it.

On the fourth day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a box of menorah cookies.

She eats half the box before lunch.

On the fifth day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a Blue Nail polish.

Felicity changes her color that night, sure that it would be a sign to Ray she was enjoying his gifts.

Through the days she tries to talk to Ray, to thank him but he is constantly on the move. She can never catch him alone. He tells her to order a limo for Saturday night. He touches her elbow, his palms are damp and soft.

Felicity thinks about Oliver, wonders what he’s doing back home. She hasn’t talked to him since Sunday. She has seen him a few times through her window. She’s watch him running home in the early morning after his run. His clothes drenched in sweat. Before coming inside he scrapes ice off the Diggles car, they have two kids and always seem to be rushing. A few times Felicity would leave for work and her windshield would be clean.

She wonders how is he is adjusting to being home. How long will he be home? What if he leaves before she can fix their friendship. Did she want to fix it or advance it?

Felicity stares out the window, lost in thought. The voice around her sound far away and hollow.

“Earth to Felicity,” Ray’s voice cuts off her Oliver spiral. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you this week, but I need you to wake up and do your job.”

Ray storms off leaving a flabbergasted Felicity. He’d been wrong during their last meeting and when she tried to correct him he sent her out for coffee. Her ears turn red and she almost snaps her pencil in half. It’s only the sight of the blue nails that calm her down. Ray is having a rough week but still doing things that made her feel special. She brushes off his bad behavior and gets back to work.

On the sixth day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a Blue Police Box from Doctor Who filled with treats.

Felicity opens the lid of cookie jar police box and the familiar sound of the Tardis fills her kitchen. Inside are gold foil wrapped chocolate coins. She loved these as a kid.

She grabs a handful before leaving her apartment. She stands in front of Oliver’s door, lifts her hand. Before she knocks, the door opens and she lets out a squeal.

“Damit 2B, are you trying to kill me.” Felicity smacks his arm.

Olive chuckles, “I don’t think so 2A. I just seem to have a strange effect on you.”

“Ha, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.” Felicity mumbles. Her heart is racing, her knees weak.

Oliver crosses his arms and a single eyebrow lifts. He leans against his doorframe.

“I mean not doing to me. Not that you’re doing anything to me or even talking to me. Why aren’t you talking to me? I want to hear about what you’ve been up too.”

Oliver stiffens, he pulls back from her. A wall comes down over his eyes. “You don’t want to hear about that. I’m back and that’s all that matters now.”

“I do want to hear about it,” she tries again. “I want to know about the pet you got on your face.”

“Listen 2A, I have plans. Did you need something?”

Felicity steps back, her eyes burning. She shakes her head. “I… Um wanted to give you some Gelt.”

She holds out her hand filled with coins. He reaches out his hand, his fingers drag down her palm. Felicity curls her hand prolonging the warm sensation burning up her arm and down her spine. Oliver stares down at their hands, Felicity watches emotion cross his face. His wall comes down for an instant.

“Oliver,” Felicity breaths out his name. She takes a small step closer. His head lifts up, his eyes meet hers. She longs to touch his cheek, to pull him in.

Her phone rings in her pocket and the moment is broken. Oliver steps back, his wall back in place, standing between them. She licks her lips and pulls out her phone, Ray. Of all the times for him to call.

“Hey Ray,” Felicity answers.

“Felicity, I’ve been thinking about you all night. How about I come over and we can go over my briefs.” Ray chuckles and hiccups into the phone.

“Have you been drinking?” Felicity couldn’t remember a time he’d ever called her drunk.

“Maybe! Want to join me? We could have a real good time. I want to have a really good time with you baby.”

Felicity looks over at Oliver, he is scowling. Can he hear Ray? Did she want him to be jealous? Could he get jealous? Why would he, they are long ago friends.

“It does not sound like you are up for any time beside bed time.”

“Mmm bed time, I like that sound of that. Will you be beside me?”

Felicity turns away from Oliver.

“We have plans tomorrow night remember. Get some rest Ray.”

“Don’t play hard to get with me Miss Smoak. I know you want it.”

A noise behind her makes her turn around. Oliver is cracking his knuckles. His eyes blaze. She inhales sharply. The phone forgotten in her hand. He moves fast standing in front of her, she steps back, he follows.

“O-Oliver?” her voice quivers. It’s not fear the making her body shake, it’s hormones. He is looking at her with unrestrained lust.

“No one talks to you like that. No one.” Oliver’s voice is a low dangerous rumble.

Felicity can feel his body press against her. He grabs the phone from her hand and ends the call. Gold gelt are on the floor around their feet. He leans in closer. The smell of spices surrounds her sense. Her head falls back surrendering to the moment. Oliver’s hand grazes over her cheek, down her neck. His thumb traces her lips.

“Felicity.” Her name on his lips is a sonnet, a poem she never knew she needed.

“If you kiss me, will you stay?” Felicity’s words slip out. She thought them a thousand nights.

“It’s not a good idea.” The wall slams down between them. Felicity is light headed, she is drunk on his scent. He steps away, she stumbles but refuses to fall.

“Which, kissing me or staying around?” Felicity demands.

“Both,” Oliver shakes his head. His eyes sad.

“Yeah, okay, you are right, this is a mistake. I wish you had stayed gone. Everything was fine before you came back. I knew what I wanted, I knew where I was going. But you come back and mess everything up. You spin me around and flip everything upside down.”

Oliver’s shoulders sag, he takes another step away from her.

“Just keep running 2B, it’s what you do best.” Felicity spins around and storms into her apartment slamming the door.

For an instant she let herself believe. Felicity grabs her cookie jar and the chocolate coins. Ray loves her. Yes, he was a little off during the phone call - it was in front of Oliver. Everything feels different around Oliver so it only made sense.

…

On the seventh day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a candle to light up the dark when we are apart.

A three wick large candle arrives the next day smelling of homemade cookies and cinnamon. How long does Ray think they will be apart, Felicity wonders. She has a rough night tossing and turning. In a few hours the limo will be here to pick her up and she barely has enough energy to shower. Oliver would not ruin another night for her. She puts on her favorite playlist to let the music ease her out of her bad mood.

She removes the blue polish and puts on a dark ruby red. She shaves and lotions her legs. Slides on the dark red lace underwear and matching strapless bra. Tonight if everything goes right she will be showing these off. She curls her hair and leaves it down. Her makeup is dark, her blue eyes startling. Her lips are a long-wear red.

Felicity steps into her shoes and inspects her reflection. Hands on her bare hips, she thinks Oliver would swallow his tongue if he saw her now. Nothing but red pumps and lacy underwear. For a moment she considers knocking on his door and showing him what he is missing.

The thought of Ray being the one to see her tonight seems a little wrong.

Resigning to her choice she pulls on her dress. Grabs her purse and wrap. Before opening the door she hears voices in the hall. Using the peephole she looks out. She sees John Diggle standing in the hall. He is talking to a man in a suit with short hair standing with his back to her door.

“If you’re sure about this then I support you, I’ve been there I understand.” John says to the man.

The other man puts his hand on John’s shoulder.

“Thanks John.”

It’s Oliver in a suit and he got a haircut. She wonders if he’s shaved. Does he look different? Should she open the door show off her dress. Show him she doesn’t care. Before she could decide Oliver is walking away down the stairs and into the night. Felicity wonders what would happen if she chases after him.

Gripping the handle she pulls the door open, and rushes down the stairs. The crisp night is shocking. She tightens her wrap around her. Looking around she doesn’t see Oliver’s truck. Felicity’s chest feels hollow. She is too late.

“You must be really excited about tonight.” Ray Palmer is standing beside a limo. He’s wearing a sharp expensive tuxedo.

Felicity watches as he checks his reflection in the limo window.

“You look great Ray.” Felicity takes heavy steps toward him.

“Thanks, are you ready? Or do you need to fix your hair?” Ray’s eyes skim over her. Taking a deep breath she opens the door of the limo. Ray pops his head in.“Alright, if you’re sure. Scoot over, I’d hate to get my pants dirty.”

Shaking her head, she slides over. Felicity sees a flash of the driver from the rearview mirror. She sees a hint of a clean shaven face before he turns away.

“Driver, we’re ready. What should we do until we get there?” Ray purrs. “I know what you can get me for Christmas.”

He is breathing hot hair on her neck. She leans away, creating space between them. He moves in closer, leaning in for a kiss. The limo breaks hard, Ray slides down off the seat landing on the floor of the car. Felicity resists the urge to laugh. She catches a spark of blue from the driver.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ray snaps.

“There was a dog in the road,” Felicity explains before the driver can answer. She grabs the champaign. “How about a drink?”

Ray talks, asks about her plans for the Holidays. Asks if her mom is coming for Christmas. It didn’t take long for Felicity to realise there was no way that Ray was her Hanukkah True Love. The more time she spends with him, the more she knows she has no reason to stay.

“We shouldn’t walk in together, don’t want to give people the wrong idea.” Ray fixes his jacket. “Have the driver take you around the corner and I’ll meet you inside.”

“Yeah, make sure you hold your breath.” She shuts the door on his smug face. “Can you take me home? I don’t belong here.”

“Are you sure? It looks like a beautiful party,” his voice is a little muffled through the half raised partition.

“I’d rather go to Big Belly and get a milkshake.” Felicity sinks into the warm leather seat.

“It would be a waste of an amazing dress.”

“I wore it for the wrong guy.” Felicity looks out the window. She rubs her arms lost in thought.

“Who’s the right guy?” The driver pulls away from the curb.

“Someone I was scared to take a chance on. Someone I should have told years ago how I feel when I’m around him.”

“How do you feel about this someone?”

Felicity drops the wrap. She uncrosses her legs. “How do I feel about him? I feel like ripping his clothes off. I want to know how he tastes, explore his body with my tongue. Most of all, I want him to pull over and join me in the back of this limo.”

Felicity rubs her legs together, her hands drag up and down her thighs. It was the timber of his voice and the shape of his ear. The sense of comfort in his presence. Her heart would know Oliver anywhere.

The limo stops on a vista overlooking the coast. He is out of the car and joining her in the back. They reach for each other and he pulls her into his lap. His large hand cups the back of her neck. Felicity places her hand on his cheek he leans into her warmth.

“I thought I screwed up.” Oliver whispers.

“So did I.” Felicity close the space between them.

He wraps her up into his arms. He holds her close, his hands in her hair. He explores her mouth with his tongue, sucks on her lips. Kissing him takes her breath away, fills her up with molten lava.

They lose track of time in each others arms.

…

Felicity wakes up in Oliver’s bed, alone. The smell of fresh coffee draws her out of bed. She puts on a discarded flannel shirt. She finds him in the kitchen. He is sprinkling powdered sugar on a jelly donut.

“Hey, I was going to surprise you.” Oliver smiles. He leans over the counter to kiss her cheek.

“You made these?” Felicity takes a bite of the warm donut. Her eyes close in pleasure.

“You make that same sound when I kiss you behind the ear.”

“Prove it.” Felicity challenges.

“In a minute, I have something for you.” Oliver walks around her, disappears into his room. He comes back holding a blue box with a silver bow. He sets the box on the counter.

“What’s this?” Felicity laces her fingers through the bow.

“Open it and find out.”

She lifts the lid off the box. Inside is bundle of letters in a ribbon. On top of the buddle there is a note.

On the eighth day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me his heart.

Felicity looks up at him. Oliver pulls out the bundle and places them in her hands.

“For five hundred forty-seven days I wrote you. Sometimes it was a multiple page letter. Others it was a short message about thinking of you. You were always on my mind. You were the only thing that kept me going. Kept me alive. I held on to every letter you wrote, every silly selfie you sent. I wanted to hand these to you. See your face, when I tell you that you are the love of my life. I love you Felicity.”

Felicity hugs the letters to her chest. Wipes the tears from her eyes.

“I should have known it was you. I sent letters full of my ramblings about my favorites places and things. You are the only person to ever truly see me. You are my true and only love. I love you 2B.”

“I love you 2A.”

#arrow #olicity #olicity fic #olicity secret santa 2018 #submission

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