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"Why is Oliver Queen walking towards us?"
"Wha-" Felicity mumbled as she looked up from her small plate piled with appetizers. She'd just popped a tender-looking morsel of spinach puff pastry into her mouth and had been rewarded with an explosion of delicious flavour after saving herself since breakfast for the fantastic catering that always accompanied a Queen Consolidated office Christmas party. She had been looking forward to slowly savouring the small feast she'd accumulated from the buffet table. Well, she certainly had been until her partner in culinary appreciation had pointed out the possible trajectory of a certain billionaire. The food went sour in her mouth and she swallowed it down with difficulty.
"He's not," she replied hoping it was true. She turned with her back to the room. She figured if she couldn't see it happen then it simply wouldn't.
"He is," her friend declared with an arched eyebrow and just about as casually as she reported the weekly financial reports to her supervisor in accounting. Felicity scowled at her.
Her friend simply shrugged in response. "Just giving you a heads up is all."
"And why," Felicity popped another pastry into her mouth as she spoke, "would I need a heads up?"
Rhiannon tossed her dark auburn hair over one shoulder, plucking a pastry off of Felicity's plate before the blonde could move it away. Felicity glared at her fiercely and moved a hand over the plate to protect the rest of her haul.
"Maybe because Oliver Queen wouldn't be walking towards us for me, but for a certain IT specialist I have it on good authority has been doing special secret side projects for him," Rhiannon answered in a loud whisper, smiling brilliantly when Felicity blinked at her incredulously.
"Don't bother denying it," Rhiannon continued smugly. Pouting when Felicity pulled her plate away to prevent her from grabbing another pastry, she took a sip of her red wine instead. "I have a very reliable source."
Felicity rolled her eyes as she chewed. Swallowing, she shook her head at her friend. "Claire is not a source, she's your girlfriend."
Rhiannon shrugged. "And sometimes when we're not otherwise engaged," Rhiannon raised her eyebrows suggestively, her green eyes sparkling, "we talk about work and work people and people who visit our work people." Rhiannon took another sip of her wine before emphatically adding, "At work."
"I get it. I get it." Felicity waved a hand holding a smoked salmon hors d'oeuvre. "Stop flaunting your functional relationship in my face." Felicity cocked her head to one side and frowned. "Where is your better half anyway?"
Rhiannon's face darkened. "Your dick of a supervisor decided to live up to his calling as the worst human being on the planet again and stuck Claire with a last minute project."
"Why didn't she say anything? I don't need to be here and you two have barely seen each other these past couple of weeks."
Rhiannon shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I was planning on ditching you and bringing Claire some food soon anyway."
Biting into the smoked salmon hors d'oeuvre, Felicity shook her head in disgust at the situation. "He really is the worst human being."
"Who is?"
Felicity jolted in surprise at the voice of Oliver Queen behind her, the shock causing her to choke slightly on the small bits of the appetizer she had yet to swallow. Eyes watering from the effort it took not to hack and cough, Felicity glared daggers at Rhiannon who was sipping her wine again with too much satisfaction.
She turned around to face Oliver, brushing her loose hair out of her face. Her first attempt at a reply sounded more like a wheeze, so she raised a finger in acknowledgement while she struggled to get her breath back.
Oliver held out his glass to her. She shook her head to decline it. The liquid looked clear, but all vodka was going to do was make her cough for a different, equally as unpleasant reason.
"It's water," Oliver explained.
Felicity accepted the glass gratefully.
"I came over here to ask you to dance."
Felicity choked on the water she'd been in the process of swallowing. Oliver looked concerned as he quickly reached to take back the glass she thrust towards him.
"Oh, she'd love to dance," Rhiannon replied enthusiastically over Felicity's shoulder. She reached around the coughing blonde to remove the plate of food from Felicity's grasp. "I'm just going to go ahead and replenish this with some of those spinach pastries you love and take them up to Claire." She handed Felicity her half-finished glass of wine. "You'll need that. I'll get myself a new one before I head up. You kids have fun."
Felicity attempted to glare at Rhiannon's back as she all but sauntered away, but the tears clouding her vision were making it rather difficult to distinguish one back from any other in the room. Instead, she looked up at a patiently waiting Oliver and held up her hand once more. His face was generally about as readable as the stone face of a cliff, but she thought she caught a flicker of amusement cross his face so she figured she had at least a few more seconds to settle herself before he walked away out of annoyance.
Once she could take a full breath without engaging in another coughing fit, she raised the glass in her hand to her mouth and downed its contents in one gulp.
The corner of Oliver's mouth lifted in what could have been called a smile if one were being generous with the term. "So you do know how to drink."
Felicity made a face at him. Setting down the empty wine glass, she hesitantly took the hand Oliver was now holding out to her. His palm was warm and large enough that it practically engulfed her own when his fingers closed around her hand.
"I'm a horrible dancer," Felicity offered quickly as an apology before Oliver could lead her onto the dance floor.
"I won't be winning any prizes myself," Oliver replied with a soft tug on her hand. Felicity reluctantly moved forward, her gaze resolutely fixed on the back of his head. She was determined not to acknowledge any of the heads that were now turning her way.
"You don't understand. The term 'two left feet' was created with me in mind. An elephant would look graceful by comparison should one happen to wander out onto this dance floor. My family has emergency protocols in place for when I get too close to a dance floor or anywhere where anyone might even think of dancing. Horrible doesn't even begin to cover what kind of dancer I am." Felicity bit down on the inside of her cheek to get herself to stop rambling, but her stomach was tying itself into knots and she wasn't entirely sure whether that had more to do with the fact that she was now standing on a dance floor with dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on her or with the fact that she was standing on a dance floor with Oliver Queen whose hand was settling itself at the middle of her back.
"How about you keep an eye out for that elephant, let me know if it ever shows up so I can switch partners, and I'll worry about making sure we don't endanger any lives in the meantime," Oliver suggested as he pulled her closer. She felt his breath ghost across the side of her face as he spoke.
Felicity allowed herself to relax against him after half a minute had passed without incident. She was discovering that he was an infinitely better dancer than he'd claimed if his ability to keep her upright and mobile was any indication. Then again, he had also limited them to a small two-step-wide circular space, so he was possibly just a very good strategist. Whatever the reason this hadn't turned disastrous, Felicity decided to relax and enjoy it while she could. That apparently meant slowly becoming all too aware all over again that she was dancing with Oliver Queen.
"Green is definitely your colour." He spoke into her ear, his voice low and steady.
Felicity's eyes widened and she looked up from wear she'd been memorising the thread pattern along the lapel of Oliver's suit. He was looking down at her and she couldn't avoid his gaze. His eyes were a brighter blue than she'd thought they'd be. Not that she'd spent any amount of time thinking about the shade of blue his eyes should be, but given his usually steely demeanour – and the fact that this was probably the closest she'd ever stood to him – she simply thought they'd be harder and darker to suit his usual persona. They weren't and it was kind of throwing her off.
"You know," Felicity cleared her throat. "If you're going to start hitting on me you might want to try a pick up line that can't also be mistaken for an insult."
Oliver blinked in surprise. "That wasn't – I didn't-" Oliver caught the hint of a teasing sparkle in her eye and the corners of his lips quivered. "I wasn't trying to hit on you," he said, the small smile belying his firm tone.
"Okay." Felicity shrugged, tearing her eyes away from the not entirely unappealing things that happened to his face when he smiled and focused on a spot across the room over his shoulder instead.
"Disappointed?" He asked a few moments later. His tone was…playful was the only word that came to Felicity's mind, but it was so foreign a concept to anything she'd ever seen from Oliver that she wanted to simply shrug it off as an effect of the wine she'd downed so quickly. And yet, the idea of a looser Oliver Queen was an intriguing one, so she decided to go with it.
"If I am, it's only because I've lost an opportunity to practice my verbal take downs," Felicity shot back lightly, eyes bright.
Oliver chuckled at that. Felicity felt the vibrations move through his chest in the hand she'd let slip from his shoulder to high up on his chest, her fingers tightening in response before she could stop them.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed, Felicity thought wryly as she relaxed her hand. She itched to move it back up to his shoulder, but he'd definitely notice that too. And if felt too much like a retreat, Felicity decided. She smoothed the fabric down instead and looked up to meet his eyes with a smile of her own.
Oliver shook his head at her, a small smile still playing across his lips. "Most people would just take the compliment."
"Sure," Felicity replied, cocking her head at him. "But most people think that cloud computing is run on actual clouds, so you're not really selling the point there."
Oliver inclined his head to acknowledge her win. "You've convinced me."
They continued dancing in a comfortable silence as the band skillfully eased from one song into the next. She wasn't entirely sure when his hand had slipped to the small of her back, but instead of becoming anxious or awkward, Felicity allowed herself to enjoy the solid feel of him holding her steady, his other hand securely clasping hers in a sure grip.
She was finding that he really was a better dancer than he'd initially advertised; having gotten her comfortable with the movements, he was now leading them in larger patterns across the floor. They weren't about to stun her coworkers with an impromptu routine, but it was certainly far more than Felicity had ever accomplished before and she found that she actually derived a little bit of pleasure from that.
"Enjoying yourself?" Oliver's breath tickled her ear. Felicity scrunched up her nose at the sensation - as though she were about to sneeze - before she could stop herself. She felt Oliver's low laugh vibrate throughout his chest and decided she didn't exactly dislike that feeling either.
"Yes, actually," Felicity responded sincerely. "I was also thinking," she continued dryly, "that it's probably some sort of Christmas miracle that you've prevented me from massacring everyone on our half of the dance floor."
"I refuse to believe you were ever that bad. No one is that bad."
"You should talk to Rhiannon." At Oliver's raised eyebrow, Felicity clarified, "The traitor you saw me with earlier. She'll take anyone with even the slightest ability to sway a hip out clubbing and even she refuses to be seen in public with me."
Oliver raised both eyebrows. "Traitor? I thought you were enjoying yourself."
"I am," Felicity assured him quickly. "But she had no way of knowing I would and every way of knowing that in all likelihood, you'd wind up in the hospital - thus traitor."
Oliver cocked his head to one side. "That makes perfect sense," he deadpanned.
Felicity pushed against his shoulder lightly and Oliver leaned back as if her tiny shove had actually accomplished something. Felicity couldn't help but smile at his attempt at a faux-pained expression.
The band eased into an instrumental rendition of 'Winter Wonderland' and Felicity's face brightened until it glowed. She looked up at Oliver with a sudden and wide smile on her face, practically vibrating with excitement.
"This is my favourite," she declared happily.
It figured she wouldn't get to enjoy it.
Only moments later, a small, brunette caught Felicity's eye from across the room. She was waiving shyly, but her brightly coloured Christmas-themed sweater helped her to stand out amongst the formal attire in the room. Felicity squinted at her friend, attempting to convey confusion from more than a dozen feet away. The tiny woman beckoned excitedly, her short choppy hair swinging against her face until she impatiently brushed it aside.
Felicity sighed, "I'm sorry, Oliver." She lifted her hand from his chest and he stilled mid step, a questioning look on his face.
"I have to go. This has been great," she rushed to say. "More than great actually considering…" Felicity trailed off and waved her hands as a reminder to their earlier conversation. "But I still have to, you know…" Felicity trailed off.
"Go?" Oliver guessed.
Felicity nodded. "Thanks for the dance, though." She smiled brilliantly up at him. "I'll be sure to let everyone know that someone survived a stint on a dance floor with me. They won't believe me," she added good-naturedly, "but I'll tell them anyway."
With a final, "Merry Christmas," Felicity stepped around him and rushed to the other side of the room leaving a bewildered Oliver behind her and standing alone in the middle of the crowded floor.
"Hmmm," Oliver made a thoughtful noise. "So that's what that's like."