The Way We Talk

Slander (Talkative #2)

It's not the first time Thea has spent time in Felicity's office, but it is the first time she's spent time in it alone.  They're supposed to do lunch today, but, in an odd turn of events, she's nowhere to be found.  She asked Oliver and he muttered something about a file and an errand, but he was incredibly vague and unhelpful as always.  Since Oliver is in the other office and can see in thanks to the glass panels, Thea is discouraged from snooping, so she just sits in one of the guest chairs and peruses the one of the fashion catalogs in the office.

Thea notices that it's one of her favorite designers immediately, and she finds the catalog vaguely familiar.  She's rather surprised when she turns to see the issue date and finds her own name and address in the box for the billing address, and then she wonders how Oliver snuck that one past her.  She turns to the page where familiar blue dress is marked with a yellow post-it, but it's probably out of Felicity's price range.  She realizes that it's the one Felicity wore to their family dinner, and then she notices the writing on the note is Oliver's, with the phone number of Thea's favorite boutique and a size that's probably Felicity's.  She laughs aloud when she puts two and two together.  Of course he would insist on buying her a dress for the event if she agreed to go with him.  He must have a good eye, too, because it had fit her perfectly.

She glances up, fully prepared to give her brother grief about spending the family fortune on an EA who he isn't even dating, but she can see a flash of color out of the corner of her eye, and she knows that it's Felicity—that girl and her brightly-colored dresses, she can't help but think.  It's a wild array of bright colors on a white background, and somehow the quirky yellow heels go well with it.

But Thea's attention is torn from Felicity's impeccable tastes when she sees the way the EA is walking.  Felicity is usually pretty confident, with straight shoulders and perfect posture.  However, her shoulders are turned inward as she walks toward her office, walking way too fast and focusing her attention only at the door.  Thea can see her eyes flick toward various groups of people that stand together whispering, though she pretends not to be listening.  Finally, she reaches her office, and she breathes a quick sigh of relief before taking on a more normal posture, running a hand over her face.  She's yet to see Thea, but she doesn't make herself known; something is very wrong here, and she clearly needs a moment to gather her thoughts.

Before she can, though, Oliver is in her office, hovering a little too close—a little too protectively—for everything to be normal.  "You okay?" he asks softly, his tone something akin to concern. Felicity won't quite look at him, so he turns her toward him, hands on her shoulders, and he leans down to catch her eyes with his.

She flushes instantly, waving him off as she turns back to her files and things.  "Fine," she assures him, her tone clipped in a way that is very clearly not fine. She seems so frazzled, and she accidentally knocks a file from the desk.  She bends down so quickly to pick it up that Thea realizes it might have been on purpose—so that she could better avoid Oliver.

"Felicity," is Oliver's laconic response, and he puts all of irritation and frustration into that word.  Thea is glad she actually gets to hear this particular conversation; she loves to watch the two of them interact.  It's so funny how they can say one or two words to one another— or sometimes none at all—and yet they're still able to carry on such a lengthy conversation with their expressions and tones.

Felicity huffs, finally turning toward her friend, irritation flashing in her eyes that probably has nothing to do with Oliver.  "Look, Oliver, I know you're just trying to protect me, but it's fine.  It's all fine."  Her tone is so sarcastic and biting that Thea doesn't quite expect it, but Oliver doesn't seem to mind, instead letting her vent her anger.  "I don't need you to rush in, guns blazing, and clean some guy's clock, okay?"  She pauses before starting up faster, the anger suddenly gone from her voice.  "I've actually never understood that expression.  It means to tell somebody off—a bad thing—but I really wouldn't mind if someone literally took the time to clean my clock.  In fact, I think I'd probably thank them for being nice enough to do such a tedious job.  And while we're on the subject, I've never quite understood 'you made your bed and you have to lie in it' one, either—"

"Felicity," Oliver tries again, but this time his tone is different.  If that half-smile on his face is any indication, he's actually quite amused by her little rant over anecdotal phrases .

Felicity shakes her head.  "Sorry," she says, a little sheepish.  "My point is, I am not currently a damsel in distress, and I'm not in need of saving.  But when I am, I'll let you know."  There's a world of trust in that one statement that Thea can't quite place, but she thinks it might have been well earned long ago.

Thea thinks it might be best to make her presence known before the two start doing the goo-goo eyes thing that they both deny to be mutual attraction.  "It's about time someone called you on how overprotective you are," she says, and the other two parties turn toward her immediately, surprised to find her there.  She answers Felicity's unspoken question with, "Lunch date, remember?"

Judging by her expression, apparently the answer is no.  Thea just sighs before turning to Oliver.  "Go away," she says flatly.  "You have very important, business-like things to do, and Felicity clearly needs out of this building for an hour or three."  Felicity opens her mouth to protest, but Thea holds up a hand.  "It's cute that you think it's up for discussion."

Oliver holds his hands up in mock defeat.  "I've learned to pick my battles," he says, with an apologetic glance at Felicity that he clearly means, despite his teasing tone.

She scoffs at some shared joke that Thea doesn't understand.  "Since when?" she retorts, some of that fire back in her again.  Oliver takes the reproach well, only offering a lazy wave over his shoulder.

As soon as he's back in his office, Thea crosses her arms over her chest as she rises from her seat.  "Okay, spill," she demands, making sure her expression leaves no room for argument.  "I promise not to tell Oliver, so I want details, Felicity."

Clearly she isn't so concerned about letting Thea in on the secret.  "Just rumor mill things," she assures Thea, frowning.  Thea doesn't give in, so she finally adds, "Ever since I got this job, there have been rumors about how I earned this position, and most of them indicate that it wasn't for my work ethic and skill set."

Thea gets it now—they all think the same things that Thea did when she walked into this office and saw Felicity Smoak sitting there.  She took the time to correct her pre-conceived notions, but she doubts that most people do.  After all, the story is a little suspicious:  why would Oliver Queen hire an IT guru to answer his phones, unless he had an ulterior motive?  It's a far too easy assumption to make given Oliver's track record, and Thea finds herself a little upset with her brother for the situation he's created for his best friend.

By the time she has a plan together, Felicity has already gathered her purse.  Thea grabs Felicity's arm, linking it through her own as they leave the office together.  Felicity starts to ask, but then thinks better of it.

It doesn't take long for the whispering to start up—except it's not really whispering.  The comments from the first man are off-color and just plain crude, which Thea doesn't take that well.  Within a second, she's dropped Felicity's arm and she's stomping toward him with fire in her eyes.  She vaguely hears Felicity whispering her name, but she doesn't care anymore.  Somebody needs to do something.

Thea walks up to the pig in a last-season suit and tie, and his eyes widen when he realizes who is walking up to him, and she thinks he cowers a little.  "Hey, jackass," she snaps, feeling a little proud of herself for the way the guy looks at her.  "You see her?"  She points toward Felicity.  "She's my best friend, okay?  So before you go spouting some sort of bullshit rumor, maybe you should examine the facts a little closer.  She took the job because my brother was in a bind, and I asked her if she would.  And she's a really awesome person, so of course she said yes.  So before you go around slandering someone behind their backs, maybe you should take a moment to get your shit straight."  She examines the ID tag on his card.  "Craig Wilson, huh?  If I were you, Craig, I'd be less concerned about why Felicity is sitting in that office, and more concerned about what would happen if Oliver Queen heard you spouting that rumor."

She has only enough time to watch the guy pale before turning on her heel, looping her arm through Felicity's again, and walking toward the elevator.  Felicity doesn't say a word for thirty stories, but when the elevator finally hits the ground floor, she finally says, "Thank you."  The sincerity is overpowering, and Thea marvels at the length of time it's been since she's heard anyone be sincere.  Thea only shrugs in response, playing it cool.  Oliver's probably going to yell at her later.

But she thinks it's worth it when they return and everyone is quiet as they pass.