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Chapter Text

The two men walked tiredly through the last stretch of the forest. The man on the left was lithe and the smaller of the two, but from the way he carried himself it was clear that this man held the mantle of leader. The man on his right was a moor and by many accounts was the size of a small mountain. They came from the fields of battle--soldiers fighting King Robert’s Holy War. Now with home but mere miles from them their pace had slowed.

As they approached the outskirts of the village of Starling, they watched from behind a rock as a four men on horseback galloped into the village. Dismounting, the men ransacked each cottage-returning to the fourth man--who had remained astride his own horse--carrying burlap sacks, presumably filled with coins. With once final cursory glance of the village, the men mounted their horses and rode off.

The soldiers took this opportunity to come out from behind the rock and continue their journey into the village. Their home. A place that had changed much in the five years they had been at war.

As they passed, they received many weary glances from the villagers who stood in doorways--small children peeking out from behind.

The smaller man, Oliver Jones, was the Earl of Starling, and he yearned to stop and ask his people what, or rather who, it was that had caused them to be frightened so. He spared a glance at his companion, his faithful manservant, John Diggle. When the two had left for the Holy War, Oliver had promised that if they were to return Oliver would grant John his own land and his leave, should John so desire it. By the grace of God, the two had returned--brothers in arms, equals in every sense of the word, and as such Oliver knew how anxious John was to return home. While Oliver had only his sister to return to, John had been separated for five years from his wife and as he discovered in correspondence, his child.

Entering the grounds of the estate, Oliver and John made their way to the small cottage on the edge of the property--John’s home. Still several yards from the door, it was flung open briefly revealing a willowy woman who sprinted towards John. Oliver stepped away from the couple and continued walking towards the home. Finding it unseemly to enter the home without Lady Lyla’s permission, he continued around the home towards the back. As he approached he could he the sound of wood being chipped and carved. The sight he came upon shocked him more than the men on horseback had earlier.

A maiden with flaxen hair, tied back with a red ribbon, was carving what appeared to be a small chair. She glanced up at the sound of dry leaves cracking under his boots. Recognition of the woman finally came. Felicity Smoak, ward of the late Allan Diggle, John’s father and manservant to Oliver’s own late father. Oliver remembered her as a quiet but intelligent young girl who had often been a loyal companion to his sister, Thea, after their parents’ death despite a slight age difference between the two.

“Master Jones, is there something I can assist you with?” She seemed unconscious of the fact that she was twirling the chisel in her left hand. He was about to reply when her eyes shifted to his bow.  “If you’ll excuse me for saying so, but that bow is by far one of the worst in design. You would have far better accuracy if you used a sarafin bow. Not that a village like ours would require such archery skills, however it pains me to see a man of your stature with such a poorly designed weapon. I am not saying, sir, that you would intentionally have a poorly made bow, or that it has anything to do with your physical si--”

“Lady Felicity.” He felt the muscles of his face contort into a form that was all but foreign to him. A smile. “And where would I find such a master bow-maker who could craft the weapon you describe?”

The maiden looked down at the chisel in her hand, before looking back up at Oliver. “I am a woodworker, Master Jones, and it would be my pleasure to craft you such a bow.”

“Thank you, Lady Felicity. I look forward to seeing what your delicate hands will create.”

With a wink, the earl turned and headed back to the front of John’s cottage. The maiden meanwhile returned to her carving, with cheeks that were now kin, in color at least, with the roses in Lyla’s small garden.

Chapter Text

One

“Oliver Queen, I’m here for my tutoring appointment.”

The freshman at the tutoring center desk nodded nervously and flipping through her appointment book, found his name and indicated to a round table at the far end of the center where a petite girl with black and purple hair sat with her back to him.

Walking over, he slid into the seat next to her. She didn’t glance up from her laptop. “So how does this work, do I give you the assignments, and then I pick them up the day they’re due?”

She laughed and finally glanced up. The girl, taking in the confident set of his shoulders and a face that had never seen the darkness of the world, realized that he was entirely serious. “Wow, okay, Prince Charming. You see that sign over there?” She pointed to the sign on the wall opposite them--Tutoring Center.  “Do you know what “tutoring” means, Charming?”

“I have a name you know.” His face confused. Great, he got the weird chick.

“Oh I do, but Charming suits you. So, Charming, “tutoring” means I help you with whatever issues you may have--though not personal ones because . . . just no. Anyway, tutoring does not mean cheating so if that’s what you’re looking for I suggest you charm some poor math major into helping you.”

Oliver sighed. That was exactly what had happened at the last college he went to--except it had been a GTA--and had resulted in his father yanking him from the school before any academic punishment could be inflicted. Therefore, honesty was the only way to get his father off his back and at least pass this semester.

Noticing that Oliver hadn’t made the decision to leave, the girl closed her laptop and turned towards him fully. “Okay, Charming, what chapter are you struggling with? And did you even bring your book?”

“Nope, don’t understand a word of it.” His trademark lazy smile finding it’s home on his boyish face.

She pressed her index finger against the bridge of her nose in a gesture of extreme annoyance. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked over to the bookcase muttering something about him being a “lost cause”. She came back with a spiral and an older version of the algebra textbook, dropping both unceremoniously onto the desk.

“By the way, I never got your name?” If he was going to work with her, he knew he needed to get along with her.

“Felicity.” She was writing some introductory notes in the spiral.

“Nice.” Oliver responded, grinning. Such an old-fashioned name contrasted sharply with the purple and black hair, dark liner, and nose ring, but some how it fit.

Felicity rolled her eyes, it appeared his charm was instinctual--an unfortunate egotistical feature that had no shut-off button. “Okay, Charming, let’s get to work.”

To Felicity’s extreme surprise, Oliver came to each of their Wednesday sessions. And while she had to admit he was a bit lackadaisical at first, as she began to figure out how his brain worked and altered her teaching accordingly, Oliver in turn began to absorb the material like a sponge. Felicity was quickly discovering that the billionaire air-head persona was merely a mask, and beneath it was a highly intelligent young man. Though she would never admit it, especially to her boyfriend Cooper--who took jabs at Oliver every time she would mention his name--she actually looked forward to their Wednesday afternoon meetings. Except for today, when her head felt like the size of Montana, her body felt like it had been run over by a freight train, and her nose had decided to become Niagra Falls. In short, she felt like absolute shit. And it was all Cooper’s fault, passing his cold along to her just in time for mid-terms. As much as she would like to skip her tutoring duties, she knew she was needed--especially by Oliver, for whom mid-terms would be his first large test since they had started working together and she was determined to help him pass with at least a “B”. That morning she had shot him a short email saying that they could only meet for an hour today because she wasn’t feeling to well, but that she would try to cram as much into that hour as possible.

The tutoring center was surprisingly empty when she got there a few minutes early for her appointment with Oliver. Trudging over to their table, she sat down and leaned her forehead onto the blissfully cold tabletop. She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew there was a gentle hand on her shoulder shaking her awake. Glancing up, she saw Oliver crouched next to her, his face concerned.

“Wha . . Sorry abo--”

“Hey, go home. Get some rest.”

“But what about mid-terms. You need to pass this exam.”

“Felicity, I’ve learned plenty. Plus, I have all the notes you’ve given me to study with.”

“Are you sure?” She stood up shakily and stretched.

Oliver stood as well, nodding. “Yeah, go. Sleep,” he paused remembering the brown paper bag tucked under his arm. He handed it to her.

Glancing between him and the bag, Felicity slowly opened it and peered inside. There was a bottle of what appeared to be cold medicine and a small takeout cup of chicken soup. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his khakis. “Well, we’re partners, right? You have my back in algebra, and I have yours when colds impact your better judgment.” He knew she was exhausted when she didn’t have a witty comeback, instead she gave him a soft smile and made her way to the door.

She was just about to walk out, when she looked back and said in a voice scratchy from coughing “See you next Wednesday, partner.”

Later after the cold medicine and chicken soup had worked their magic, and Felicity was feeling semi-normal again, she went to throw away the paper bag when a small index card tumbled out. Picking it up off the floor, she turned it over and read.

         Feel better soon,

                   Oli Charming

If Cooper noticed the silly grin his girlfriend wore when he walked into her room a few minutes later, he didn’t comment on it.

Two

One semester, turned into two and while Oliver no longer needed Felicity’s tutoring help, he knew that she often worked on coding at the campus coffeeshop when she wasn’t in class or tutoring and so he found himself there working on his own assignments (his father would be shocked if he knew) or just distracting her with conversation. He wouldn’t admit it but he enjoyed Felicity’s company, she was one of the only people he knew that wasn’t pretentious, that seemed to simply exist with honesty and who could care less about the money in his trust fund.

On that particular day, he sat across from her working through the third clue in the ridiculous scavenger hunt that Tommy had orchestrated.

“Damnit!” He slammed his fist down, rattling the table and causing Felicity to look up.

“What’s wrong?”

Oliver sighed and turned the laptop towards her. The application that Tommy had had made was being a thorn in his side and it was nearly impossible to find where the next location was. After explaining the game, she remarked that it seemed a little outlandish for a scavenger hunt.

“The idle rich are hard to entertain.”

Felicity grinned and pushed her own laptop to the side, before pulling his towards her. “Clearly.”

Her fingers flew across the keys, hacking the application in less than a minute. “The next location is at a hotel, on the outskirts of the financial district,” she paused. “You know, I could bypass the entire system and tell you where the final location is.”

“No, that’s okay. Might as well play along.” Oliver took the laptop back and slid it into his bag. Looking at Felicity, he continued “Thank you, though. You didn’t have to help.”

She leaned back in her chair, flexing her fingers. “Yeah, but that’s what friends do, Charming.”

Three

Because she was several years younger than most of her classmates, Felicity didn’t have many close friends in college and zero friends from back home--she was trying to escape after all. So when Cooper was arrested, Oliver was the first person she called. While they didn’t see each other much during the trial, he did try to call her at least once a week to check on her.

Yet, now she found himself outside his apartment at two in the morning. An hour ago she was reminded that she was listed as Cooper’s emergency contact. An hour ago she had gotten a call from the FBI. An hour ago she was told that the man she loved had hung himself in his cell. An hour ago she had no intention of waking Oliver Queen up in the middle of the night.

She was on her third soft knock when the door opened and her friend stood there bleary eyed. Realizing who it was and her red eyes, he quickly woke up.

“Felicity! What’s wrong? What happened?” Oliver asked, concerned.

“It’s Cooper. Oh god, Oliver, he’s dead.”

Although Oliver noticed she had called him by his name, he said nothing as he pulled her into his arms. Shutting the door, he maneuvered her to the couch. They sat down together and he gathered her in his arms, rubbing his hand up and down her arms.

“I didn’t know where else to go. Jesus, what am I supposed to do?” She mumbled, her voice thick with tears that had been shed and those that had not.

Oliver, for his part, was surprised because when it came to crying women he would normally be anywhere but comforting them. But this was Felicity, and when it came to her, he usually didn’t think, he just reacted.

“Hey, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to be by yourself anyway, not tonight. Besides, you’re my best friend. . .” He didn’t finish, just letting the statement hang there. He had no idea what the right words were to say, but he knew the least he could do was let her know he was here for her.

She made a sad attempt at a laugh. “Don’t let Tommy hear you say that.”

Oliver shook his head. He sat back, reached over for a pillow from the end of the couch, and putting it on his lap he lowered her head down. “Sleep, Felicity.” he murmured gently. Given the tears she had shed over the past hour, it only took a few gentle strokes of his hand over her hair before she succumbed to sleep.

Eight months later, Felicity was working in a local Tech Village trying to get a jump start on paying her student loans when the headline scrolling across the televisions along the back wall caught her attention. She wasn’t even aware that she had let out a gasp and dropped the harddrive she was working on, until one of her coworkers asked if she knew the Queens.

She spoke more to herself when she responded “Oliver. He was my best friend.”

Thousands of miles away, as Oliver Queen sat in a damp cave and listening to words that were in a language not his own, it was a picture of a black and purple haired girl that he pulled from his wallet, taken a month before when they were studying for finals.

“I’m sorry, Felicity. I’m so sorry.”

Four

He had tried to avoid her. He knew that being her friend and being the vigilante would only put her life at risk. So he avoided. Avoided Felicity. Avoided his best friend.

But as much as he might want to, he had no control over fate.

Oliver still wasn’t 100% sure going into business with Tommy was the greatest idea he’d ever had, but he knew he had to acknowledge that just had he had grown up over the past five years, so had Tommy. Besides, the two of them working together would speed up the construction of the club, and having a reason to be seen at his father’s old warehouse at the Glades was going to be a necessity for well into the foreseeable future. He pushed aside his doubts as he stepped over beams and pushed past tarps. While Tommy was no where in sight, he saw a woman sitting on the floor against a post with her back to him, typing furiously on a computer.

He cleared his throat to get her attention. “Can I help you?”

Her movement froze suddenly and she set the laptop aside slowly. Oliver could have sworn she had muttered something along the lines of “charming”, but before he could find out he heard Tommy come up behind him.

“Buddy! Hey, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve see you’ve met our tech support..”

Oliver turned and saw that the woman was now standing facing him. The woman that had gotten him through five years of hell.

“Felicity?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Oliver.” It was a mere second before she was a blur launching herself into his arms.

“God I missed you.” Oliver muttered into her hair.

Tommy looked at the two, utterly confused. He knew when Thea (and later Walter) had recommended Felicity, there had been some mention of her tutoring Oliver back in college. But what he was witnessing was not two acquaintances reuniting. Hell, not even classmates! As he watched his best friend scoop the IT girl off her feet in a bone-crushing hug, he felt like he was intruding on a private, intimate moment.

“Um, guys? I’m guessing you two know each other.”

Oliver and Felicity stepped apart, and Oliver turned to his childhood friend. “Felicity was my best friend in college. She--”

Tommy cut him off with a dramatic gasp and a hand to his chest. “Ollie, you didn’t tell me I had competition!”

Felicity laughed and shook her head, and both men turned their attention to her. “Please. I doubt that anyone could break up the greatest bromance of the century. Especially not little old me.”

Tommy laughed as well and came to stand next to Felicity, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I like her. Can we keep her?”

And just like that, what had originally started as a two-man operation became two billionaires and an IT girl working together to open Starling City’s newest night club.

Five

It was Tommy’s suggestion to offer to hold the annual Starling City Humanitarian Ball at the soon to be opened Verdant. And after many presentations, courtesy of Felicity, the mayor and the city council had acquiesced. Tonight, the nightclub had been transformed into a space that could compete with any five-star ballroom. While Tommy wasn’t thrilled that he would have to be in the same place as his father, Oliver was glad that all of Starling City’s elite would be in one place--right above the foundry. He and Diggle had gotten word that Floyd Lawton was back and town, along with the Triad, fulfilling a hit on one of Starling’s one-percenter’s. However, they still had yet to figure just who the curari laced bullet was meant for.

Oliver was up in the perch he had installed last week, invisible to the naked eye but with the ability to see all exits and windows in the club. He had called Tommy earlier faking a stomach flu, and while he knew his friend didn’t buy it he was excused nonetheless.

Diggle’s voice came through the comms just then, with an undercurrent of a chuckle. “Having this party in the Glades might not be so attractive to the elite, but it’s definitely attracted the police. SCPD’s patrolling inside and out.”

Oliver sighed as he spotted Diggle through his binoculars wandering through the crowd. While he could see the big picture from up here, Dig was going to be his eyes and ears amongst the party goers, a substitute for his mother’s usual bodyguard.

“That’s not exactly who I’m looking to catch.” he muttered.

At that moment he turned his head towards the doors, and with the crowds having parted for a moment he was able to catch sight of a goddess. Felicity Smoak smoothed the skirt of her simple satin gown, having handed her purse to the coat check. Oliver’s eyes widened slightly when as he took in the color of the gown, a green that was twin to the hood he donned every night.

“What is she doing here?” Oliver growled. When they had talked yesterday, he was under the impression that she was going to leave the schmoozing side of the business to he and Tommy. Now here she was, unknowingly in harm’s way.

Why had she thought this was a good idea? Maybe no one had noticed her yet and she could slip out before-

“Tommy!” Here was her reason right here. He had texted her at lunch time begging her to come tonight--Oliver was sick, and Laurel had to work late and he “didn’t want to be all on his own :(” That damn little emoticon was enough to trigger a mental picture of Tommy’s signature puppy dog face, and Felicity found herself digging through her closet finding the evening gown that her mother had sent her last Hanukkah.

“Felicity, my savior! I think my hand is beginning to get numb from shaking so many!” he cried dramatically, feigning a crippled hand.

Felicity grinned and rolled her eyes. Linking her arm through his, she replied “Come on you big baby, let’s show everyone why this is the best club in town.”

“I count five Triad enforcers, but still no sight of China White.” Diggle said.

Oliver continued to scan the crowd. “She won’t make an appearance until--” He didn’t finish because he caught sight of Chin Na When. He saw her give a small nod to someone across from her, but before Oliver could follow her line of sight the fire alarm was pulled and all hell broke loose.

As the club was thrown into darkness with the shrill sound of the fire alarm, she heard Tommy yelling her name from nearby. But his call was quickly drowned out by the screams, and Felicity watched with her semi-acclimated vision as several of Starling’s elite collapsed to the ground. Suddendly shots began to fly through the club. Ducking under a table--to hell with the fire alarm--she caught sight of a woman with a cat like grace duking it out with . . . the vigliante?

Oliver had long since abandoned his bow. Having fought China White before he knew that the only way to slow her down was hand-to-hand combat. When he had landed on the club floor, he had yelled at Dig to get everyone, by which he meant Tommy and Felicity, to safety.

Trading jab after jab with the Triad leader was getting tedious. His mind was working a mile a minute to try and figure out a place to strike in order to disable her.

“SCPD! Freeze!” Of course the cavalry had decided to move in now, after he had already taken out all the Triad goons, except China White. And while he had expected the newcomer to throw his opponent of her game, the nine or so officers with guns drawn didn’t phase her in the least. She spun away from him, grabbing and throwing four shurikens towards the officers. Each one hit it’s target--center mass.

He was in a no win situation. China White would continue to rack up the body count--his own included--and if SCPD did manage to fire their weapons--they would take both of them down.

His mind quickly formulated an escape plan, and grabbing his bow he was already running and pulling a grappling arrow from his quiver. What he hadn’t counted on was the flash of green satin.

Felicity Smoak considered this to be her most illogical decision to date. Here she was now crouched behind an overturned table--instead of having evacuated when the alarm first went off like a sane person. But that wasn’t the worst of it, call it instinct or stupidity, but as soon as their was a pause in the sound of blows being dealt and the firm thud of bodies hitting the ground, Felicity peered out from behind the table. And of course she her had to move more than she had intended and hit something that echoed through the mostly empty club. Bad move, bad move, bad move. All eyes, including those of the scary ninja women, turned to her. But before she could utter so much as an oops, time seemed to move into hyper-drive. One second the vigilante running towards her, the next she was scooped up and propelling through the air.

They landed with a harsh fall on the building opposite. Oliver could hear John in his ear as he finished clearing the floors below--Deadshot already long gone. As he stepped away from Felicity he saw her stumble, but when he reached for her she took a step back from him.

“Stay back. I don’t know who you are or why we’re on the roof. Well okay that was probably because I would have been attacked by that crazy woman. So thank you for saving me, but just. . . stay back.” Felicity’s voice was ragged and her face was starting to pale. Oliver’s eyes zeroed in to where her hand was pressing against her side, scarlet blood leaking between her fingers.

With the voice modulator still on, he took a small step forward and said “Felicity, you’re shot.”

“I don’t need to be told that, Vigilante Man.” Felicity stepped back further glaring at him “How do you know my name?”

Oliver ignored her question, he needed to get her to the foundry as quickly as possible. “I’m not going to hurt you. You need to let me help you. The bullet that hit you was laced with curari, a poison. An assassin named Floyd Lawton laces his bullets with curari. I’ve dealt with this before. I have the anecdote, but you need to come with me.”

Instead of conceding, Felicity continued to back up. Although clearly getting weaker by the moment, she held her arm out in front of her defensively. “Listen buddy, I’m not letting some crazy person in a hood help me. What are you going to do take me to a warehouse? No what I need now is a hospital with doctors, not an archer.” She turned on her heel and limped towards the door to the stairs.

“Dammnit, Felicity.” Oliver muttered. “In four minutes you’ll suffocate from that flesh wound, if you don’t let me help you!” He closed the distance between them quickly, placing a hand on her forearm to stop her. “You’re not going to make it to the hospital! I can help you, you just need to--”

“Let me go! Why are you so insistent on helping me?!” Felicity tried to put what little remained of her strength into shaking him off, but his firm and gentle grip didn’t waver.

Oliver sighed and with his other hand shut off the voice modulator. There was only one way to end this quickly. “Because you’re my partner,” He slid the hood off. “Always have been.”

Chapter Text

Enjoy! (These are just little snippets right now)

Her hand gripped the worn leather strap of the wooden box, which she could barely feel through the thick callouses on her hand. Out of nervousness, she shifted it slightly in her hand as her mother pulled open the ornate doors to her childhood home. As she walked into the foyer she vaguely heard her mother mention something about her bedroom being left untouched. But she was overwhelmed, because as she took in the wood paneling and fragrant floral centerpiece, it finally hit her—she was home. Home. A place she never thought she would see again.

“Felicity!” She looked to the sound of the call and saw a bespectacled man walking towards her. “It’s good to see you.”

When she didn’t speak, the man glanced toward her mother and then back to her. “It’s Harrison. Harrison Wells.”

“Baby, you remeber Harrison. Your father’s friend from the company.”

Felicity was no idiot. She saw the looks Harrison and her mother exchanged. It appeared more had changed than she was expecting.

<———————————->

“What did I tell you, boats are statistically the worst way to travel.”

Felicity let a small smile pull at her face as she heard the voice of her best friend. She turned and saw him walking towards her. “Barry Allen.”

She didn’t resist as he enveloped her in a hug.

His voice was much quieter when he spoke again. “God, I missed you, Felicity.”

“I missed you too, Barry.”

<———————————->

“So that’s your story? A someone in a green hood swooped in and saved you guys. Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know, Detective, but I bet if you find him or her—because it’s 2012 and superheros are genderfluid these days—you can ask them that question.”

Lance directed his question to Barry. “What about you, did you see the hood guy?”

Barry shook his head. “No! I was completely unconscious. But this guy seems cool.” At the sharp look from Lance, he backpedaled. “I mean dangerous. Very very dangerous.”

“It’s funny, Smoak. Only one day back and someone’s already gunning for you.”

Donna leaned forward, her tone clipped. “Did you find out why they did this?”

The other detective standing behind Lance shook his head. “No, ma’am. But our best guess is that they figured they would get a sizeable ransom.”

Lance shot Felicity with a hard look. “After all, a parent would do anything to keep their child safe.”

Noticing the tension in the room, Harrison stood. “Thank you for coming, Detective. Please contact us if you have any more information.”

<———————————->

She buttoned the coat as she stepped out the door, the crisp air whipping her hair back. Felicity had only just closed the door when she heard her mother call out to her.

“Felicity. Hold on a minute. I want to introduce you to someone.”

Turning she saw Harrison and another man a couple paces behind Donna. Donna Smoak glanced at the other man, before looking back at her daughter. “Felicity, this is Oliver Queen. He will be accompanying you from now on.”

Felicity finally looked at the man, who stood at attention, hands grasped in front of him, his feet shoulder width apart—definitely ex-military. Although he wore a thick coat, it was clear he was well built, his eyes as bright and blue as a clear summer sky. If the private security business ever got rough, he would certainly make a substantial living as a model. And, she did not just go there. Besides, his presence was exactly what she didn’t need as she tried to get to her father’s factory in the Glades.