That Ship Has Sailed

Oliver & Felicity I

"Laurel, I don't like going to parties. You know that."

"Felicity, it'll be good for you. Trust me. You're twenty two, you need to leave the house more or you're never going to have any fun or make any crazy memories."

"That's not all there is to life," Felicity mumbled.

"What more is there?" Laurel asked as she pulled on her second high healed sandal. "Trust me," she stood, flattening the skirt of her dress and holding her hand out, "You'll have fun. You've never been on a yacht before."

"That's just it," Felicity declared as Laurel forcibly pulled off her t shirt only to pull a dress over her head before she could protest. "If the party is on a yacht, it means the people who are throwing the party are probably rich snobs who wouldn't want me there anyway."

"No, I know the guy, he's nice. Just relax and take off your jeans. That dress looks beautiful on you."

Felicity looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed, pulling her hair out of her ponytail and fluffing it.

"That's the spirit," Laurel smiled. Felicity slowly finished getting ready, still against going to the stranger's party. They took a taxi to the pier and got out, their heels clicking against the wood as they neared the large boat.

"The loud music is going to pop my eardrums," Felicity complained, though she already knew there was no way she was getting out of this party.

"Relax, you'll be fine. I'm going to go find Tommy, but I'll meet you by the bar, okay?"

Felicity reached for Laurel's arm to stop her from leaving, but the girl was too quick on her feet, hurrying off into the arms of her boyfriend. Felicity stood up straighter, pretending she knew what she was doing and that she belonged there as she walked toward the bar. She sat on a stool and looked around her.

The boat was filled with well dressed people dancing, drinking and clearly enjoying themselves. Felicity ordered a soda from the bartender and sat, sipping it slowly, waiting for Laurel. The minutes dragged on and Felicity waited. Suddenly, a man walked over and sat right next to Felicity, though there were plenty of open stools. She felt embarassed, but smiled kindly when the man looked over.

"Hey," the man said after they exchanged an awkward smile, "I've never seen you before. What's your name?"

"Felicity. I don't usually come to these things because I feel they're just an excuse for grown people to get drunk and pretend it's okay. I didn't even want to come to this stupid party, but my friend made me, so, here I am--"

Felicity looked at the face of the man. His eyebrow was quirked and the corner of his mouth raised in amusement.

"Sorry," Felicity gushed, "I get chatty sometimes when I'm nervous--"

"Why are you nervous?" The man asked.

"Well, first of all, I don't even know your name and I've just told you I don't even want to be here when you came and sat right next to me, probably wanting to chat me up, but you should know, I don't date--"

Just then, Laurel came up, Tommy in tow, "Hi, Felicity," Tommy said quickly.

"Hi, Tommy," Felicity said slowly.

"I'm glad you met," Laurel interrupted the greeting, "Great party, Ollie!"

"Glad you're having fun," the man said, turning around in his stool and leaning against the bartop, his smile evident on his face.

"Oh God," Felicity said, "This is-this is your party?"

The man smiled, "It is. And I'm so sorry you're not having fun."