The Way We Talk

Subtle (Talkative #6)

Felicity doesn't know how she keeps getting herself into these messes.  It's not that she doesn't mind dressing up for a charity event—and she certainly doesn't mind the idea of going with Oliver, who will most likely drop a huge chunk of change in name of the worthy cause.  It isn't even that she minds being out in the field for Arrow business; she's been itching for a chance to get out in the field after the Rowland thing after she got shot, but Oliver has been adamant that she stay behind a desk.

It's Sykes, their target, himself.  The guy is a creep.

But it's only her suspicion about him as she and Oliver exit the vehicle together.  Because of her very limited budget and his very unlimited generosity, he offered to pay for whatever she needed to pull of the Oliver Queen arm-candy standard and she couldn't afford to say no.  She likes the dress she found, and, in her opinion, it just sweetens the pot that it's an emerald green just a few shades varied from the Vigilante's signature color.  He said she was his girl, and so now she's just reinforcing that fact—albeit in a roundabout fashion.  She thinks she might have pulled off the look alright, as when she came out of the bathroom in the lair, Oliver just stood there, absolutely speechless.

(But, honestly, she might have done the same thing while staring at him; he was only half-dressed, and something about seeing him in suspenders is more appealing than watching him parade around in those Armani suits all the time.)

He slides a hand around her waist as they enter Sykes' ridiculously large house, and she smiles genuinely when she realizes she's finally in the field again.  After she got shot the first time, things were absolutely impossible with Oliver for a while.  Usually Felicity likes his tendency to hover, but since the Rowland thing, he's been like a hummingbird with an amphetamine rush.  Now that Sara is officially on the team, it's given him a better excuse.  But, fortunately for Felicity, Sara can't hack an encrypted computer.

The first person Oliver decides to mingle with is Sykes himself, and the guy looks just like the smug gun-runner Felicity expects him to be.  Graying dark hair, goatee, and that condescending air that usually accompanies money (with the single exception of Oliver, of course).

Ah, Oliver Queen," Sykes says smoothly as they approach, shaking Oliver's hand briefly.  "So good to see you after all these years, Oliver. "  He turns toward Felicity, studying her in an appraising way that makes her skin crawl, though she fights to keep that feeling from her expression.  "You're a very lucky man to have such a woman on your arm tonight."  To Felicity, he adds, "You look beautiful tonight, darling."  It could be that the compliment irritates her because it comes from Sykes, but the qualification of looking beautiful tonight rub her raw.

In that moment, Felicity understands Sykes completely.  If there's one thing that she knows, it's that everyone has a weakness, and Sykes' is clearly women.  But, like most things in his life, he's careful with his weakness, careful to keep it firmly in control.  To him, women are like money:  easily traded and earned—but also disposable.  To him, she isn't a woman, but a status symbol or a trophy.

She knows his comment irks Oliver when she feels the hand at the small of her back move to her hip in a display of the overprotective, possessive quality Felicity has come to expect from him.  "I am lucky," he agrees, "but it has nothing to do with how beautiful she is."  The trademark lazy smile is on his face, but Felicity can't interpret the expression in his voice.

She's long since learned that understanding Oliver is equal parts listening, observing, and reading between the two.  He said that she is beautiful, not that she appears to be such, and he doesn't dare qualify it with a timeframe.  And the compliment is doubled as he implies that it's not her beauty that he is thankful for, and Felicity knows he's instead referring to her mind and her skills.  The veiled compliment surprises her so much that she can't follow the rest of the conversation.

When he finally guides her away, he asks lowly, "Are you ready to work?"

Vaguely, she hears herself agree, but she isn't really focusing on that.  As she allows him to lead her up the stairs, she says quietly, "Thank you for that."  She doesn't elaborate because he'll know what she means.  But she thinks of something else, something that astounds her.

It's moments like these that remind her why she keeps working for him.