sharingmyworld requested: "playboy" Oliver walking into a club like in that gifset when he catches a glimpse of Felicity (either by the bar or dancing with her friends, I’m not picky). He does that reaction thing to her like in S1 and then he makes it a point to talk to her .. al while trying to keep the facade of being this playboy and she’s not buying it.
I kinda changed it a little. But that’s what the muse wanted to do. Hope you like it!
Oliver was fashionably late.
As the playboy icon demanded, Ollie Queen was not suppose to arrive on time. Before the island there were many excuses as to why. Now, there was a legitimate reason more so than just appearances.
Tactical advantage being the most prominent.
He had requested the party here so he could get to Adam Hunt with no issues and a sleek cover, because Hunt had gotten the cops involved. Earlier, when he had ditched Diggle, he had scouted the place out. He wanted to know every exit and stairway in that building before he confronted Hunt Always have an exit strategy was one of the things he had learned in the past five years. Especially before going into enemy territory. That is what each and every person on the list was: An Enemy.
After scoping both places out- placing a zipline across the street, planning to go in through the elevators– he had made it home at the time the party was suppose to start. He then had to change and let Diggle- who had had the nerve to sit in the back seat with him– accompany him to Tommy’s nightlife. And what was suppose to be Ollie’s nightlife.
Oliver glanced down at his phone. One hour. And still there was no money from Adam Hunt. Had he expected him to deliver? No. Men like Hunt never did as they were told. Which is why he had taken precautions. But that doesn’t mean that Oliver didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. There was a slim chance, but it was there. But only one. Oliver would then take him out.
He continued down the stairs. Tommy turned from where he was draped with women, motioning frantically to the DJ. Patting Oliver on the chest, he yelled as loud as he could, “Hey Hey Hey Hey!! MAN OF THE HOOOUUUURRRRRR!!!!” The crowd cheered. Oliver slipped on the playboy persona, desperately trying hard not to let them know how much the loud noise made him tense up, just waiting for someone to attack.
Quickly giving a bland speech about tequila, he was able to slip off the stage. But not before he caught a slip of blonde hair.
He ignored Tommy, giving him a classic Ollie wink. The one that was code for found-a-hot-piece-and-I’m-going-to-go-hit-that. Tommy gave him a knowing smile and disappeared into the crowd.
The blonde he had spotted earlier was over by the open bar, sipping something bright purple. For some reason she seemed familiar but he couldn’t put his finger on it. As luck would have it, she was sitting alone.
He fed her a line, sitting down next to her. “I know a better place you can put those lips besides a straw.” He smirked cockily, hoping that she would fall for it. What he didn’t expect was her reaction.
“Aww Hell No. No. Just No. Out of all the girls in this place he has to sit next to me. Why oh why did I let Marcy drag me to this. Just because a billionaire comes back from the dead doesn’t mean we should go party. With him. Why not do it home alone in comfortable outfits without a bra… and I’m talking about my bra in from of Oliver Queen. Gah, why can’t I stop talking. You. Go. Away.” And she turned her back on him.
Quckly, he slipped to the other side. “Ah, don’t be like that.” He reached out and touched her wrist. There was a sharp spark that had them both retracting. She reached down and rubbed her wrist. Then she looked up and all he could see was her very cerulean eyes.
There was a click.
No way. It was the same girl. The very same girl that had called him cute two and a half years ago. The girl that had walked in on him stealing information from his family’s company.
The first person he had seen as a person since the island.
Screw Ollie. He wasn’t him anymore. And he wanted this girl who had changed him, gave him a laugh in the middle of some very dark years, to know the real him.
“Sorry. Here, let me start over.” He got comfortable, signaling to the bar tender for a shot. “I’m Oliver Queen, shipwreck survivor, emotionally unhealthy twenty nine year old, and I’m stuck in a party where I don’t want to be. What’s your name?”
She looked at him curiously, like he was a puzzle she was suddenly desperate to solve. “Felicity. Smoak. Bet you don’t want to be here because of how crowded it is and you’ve just spent five years by yourself. I know I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near a large group of people when all I’ve known is me, myself and Wilson.”
She hit the problem right on the nail. He smiled faintly as he remembered making a similar crack to Slade.
“No,” he quipped back, “I had a black companion named Friday who only spoke gibberish.”
That made her laugh. And suddenly he wanted to see it again and again. He was about to ask her if she wanted to leave and go get burgers with him, he had found this really good burger place that had the best chili cheese fries, when his phone buzzed. Ten o’ Clock and Hunt still hadn’t delivered the money.
He sighed. Duty called.
“Hey, Felicity, I have to go. But when I get back, do you want to maybe, I don’t know, go somewhere? Just to talk?”
“Is Oliver Queen really asking me out on a date right now? Or is it something else entirely? Sorry, handsome, I don’t put out on a first date. Or a first meeting. Or whatever this is. I didn’t mean to call it a date because it is definitely not a date. Why do I do this to myself?” She gave him a grimacing smile and vanished into the dancing crowd. Oliver desperately wanted to go after her, but Hunt and his investors called. The crusade must come first.
And so he mostly forgot about her. She was never far from his mind, but he didn’t know where he could find her again.
It wasn’t until Deadshot put bullets in his laptop that he found her.