The Way We Talk

Friend (Little Talks #4)

Prompt:  "Don't leave."

Felicity swallows as she walks up to the Queen mansion. It's the first time she's ever been there, and it's more than a little intimidating. People shouldn't have houses like this—well, unless it's like Buckingham Palace and it's owned by royalty. Well, their last name is "Queen," but—

She shakes her head to stop the onslaught of thoughts, knowing it's going to be a bad day when she starts rambling in her head. It's just a sign of worse things to come.

She runs a hand down the front of the too-expensive dress Oliver bought her just for this dinner, and she cringes as she realizes how wild the multicolor heels are with the blue dress and the bright fuchsia lipstick. She decided to wear her hair long, but she should have at least put in her contacts instead of wearing glasses. She looks like an idiot, not like the kind of model that Oliver Queen would bring over for a family dinner. She looks like a blonde, nerdy, computer geek, and while she usually likes that about herself, usually she's not invited to a family dinner at the Queen mansion.

She turns back to Oliver, who is guiding her toward the door with a hand at the small of her back. "I can't do this," she says abruptly. His eyebrows raise in surprise, the way they do when she says something inappropriate (and, sheesh, she hasn't even started yet). "Look, I'm sorry. I don't think you usually notice things like this but I"—she motions to her torso—"am not the kind of girl that can do a refined family dining experience at the Queen mansion!" Her voice decides to rise in volume and pitch, and she's about two octaves higher than normal. She sounds like a Muppet, she thinks, but her mouth is far out of her control at this point. "I'm a computer nerd, okay? I'm a basement-dwelling gremlin, not a party girl!" She looks at her arms. "Seriously, I think you're starting to give me hives."

He smiles that smile at her, the one that makes her feel like agreeing to anything. She equally loves and hates that smile. "'Basement-dwelling gremlin'?" he repeats blankly, and she blushes, not realizing the words she had selected during her ramble. Before she can defend herself, he shakes his head. He leans closer, giving her chills as he whispers, "Felicity, you were bait for a serial killer, and you're afraid to go to a family dinner?" She flushes, knowing how silly it is. He speaks louder this time as he assures her, "It's going to be fine."

Before she can speak, he guides her into the house, and she's staring at the elaborate entrance hall. "Holy cheese," she says, then winces at her choice of expression. "This place, it's just... wow."

Oliver makes a breathy sound, probably his equivalent of laughter. "Most people have that reaction to the house," he agrees.

She rounds on him. "The house?" she repeats, a little hysterical. "This isn't a house, Oliver. This is like a super house—with a cape and a mask and a gaudy pair of tights." She realizes what she said, she opens her mouth, appalled, but she can't think of anything to say that would fix it.

He makes another breathy sound, raising an eyebrow in question. "You mean a mansion?" he suggests dryly.

She feels a sheepish at her description. "I don't know, maybe," she grudgingly admits. "But, whatever you want to call it, it's beautiful."

"It is," comes the agreement, but not from the direction she's expecting. Felicity turns on her heel to find herself face-to-face with Moira Queen, and she feels even more embarrassed than she was before. "I'm glad you like it—we've done much to make the house feel comfortable."

Oliver clears his throat. "Mother," he says, an underlying warning in his voice, "this is my friend Felicity." She's not sure she likes the warning, with his subtle indicator for his mother to behave properly. Even with a warning, she has no doubt that Moira Queen is not the kind of person to play nice, even when she's "playing nice."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Queen," she says as nicely as possible, even though she still feels like an idiot for her description.

Moira does not deign herself fit to speak to Felicity, but instead says to Oliver, "We were waiting for you," she says, as though she's trying to guilt him into something, before she disappears back into the dining hall.

Before she can comment or make a fool of herself, Oliver guides her into the dining hall behind Moira, his hand on her lower back incredibly distracting. When she enters, Moira is already seated at the head of the long table, with Thea and Roy on one side. There are two places set on the other side, which she's assuming are for her and Oliver. She's starting to feel a little flighty, like she wants to just turn and run, but she owes it to Oliver to stay.

He pulls her chair out for her as he offers a wink to Thea. "Thank you," she says quietly to him, flushing at the unwanted attention from her audience. Roy looks as uncomfortable as she feels, but Thea is looking at her with interest, as though she's something new and peculiar to study. Felicity doesn't like being the rat in the glass cage, so she sort of shies away from the attention, turning away.

"Thea, Roy," Oliver says, and Felicity notices how his jaw sort of tenses when he says Roy's name, "this is my friend, Felicity Smoak. Felicity, my sister Thea and her..." He trails off, knowing the word he needs, but reluctant to say it.

Felicity rolls her eyes. "Her boyfriend?" she supplies, the question in her voice just part of the act.

Oliver actually winces before flashing that fake smile at Roy. "Roy Harper," he finishes, and Felicity doesn't miss the growly quality that he's taken on, the on that not-so-subtly says, I will arrow you in your sleep. She stomps on his foot under the table, and the almost-Arrow expression is aimed at her for a moment before he gives her an almost-smile.

She turns away, smiling at the two. "Nice to meet you both," she says, trying to act like she's meant to be there. It isn't working, though, because Thea's eyes narrow in suspicion at her.

"Where'd you pick this one up, Ollie?" Thea asks, making a face similar to Oliver's growly-Arrow face. Felicity flushes at the implications—and in anger—but bites her tongue for a change. This is Oliver's sister, and she just can't go around being rude to Thea Queen. She clenches her fists on her thighs, trying desperately not to say anything.

A hand falls over hers, forcing it to lay flat against her thigh. Oliver shoots her a half-glance, the corner of his mouth twisting up slightly. She must look like she's about to bolt, though, because he leans over and whispers in her ear, "Don't leave." She tries to ignore the close proximity, but it's difficult to ignore.

"Felicity," he says, the tense line of his jaw and sharp tone indicating his anger, "is a computer technician, actually." She likes that he doesn't bring up the fact that she works for Queen Consolidated, and that he doesn't belittle her by mentioning her sudden career change to executive assistant. "Right after I got back from the island"—his tone goes soft for the description—"I took my computer to Felicity, and she was able to repair it for me. That's how we met."

She smiles at him, grateful for the save and the support. Even as Felicity picks up the thread of conversation and the tension settles, his hand never leaves hers, always reminding her that she has a friend in the room. And, she must admit, she's doubly glad that friend is Oliver.