#or let the old dub fade from public consciousness

[t-a-c]

been watching the re-dub of Sailor Moon S and it's really surreal to not hear the word "cousin" even once

[hoodsmoaked]

Let It Snow | Part 1 / ?

Summary: Oliver Queen spends the days before Christmas trying to find the murderous new archer in Starling City and renew family traditions. An odd request from Moira puts her son in a difficult position, but it also puts an unexpected twist in Oliver’s strange partnership with Felicity Smoak. (S1 AU)

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of Arrow. It belongs to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: This is an AU story set during 1x09: Year’s End. It was meant for Christmas, but things went sideways and it wasn’t until this week that I actually put it down. Thank you @stygian-omada-fan for sensible words when I was feeling overly sensitive. <3

Chapter 1: Bits & Pieces

“Mom, you can’t be serious.”

At twenty-seven years old, with a veritable ocean’s worth of hell swelling behind him and a galaxy’s worth looming ahead of him, Oliver Queen still had absolutely no idea how to take up a debate with his stern, self-assured mother when she set her heart and mind on something she wanted.

Today, a mere morning and afternoon after Adam Hunt’s murder at the hands of the new Starling City archer, that something was Oliver’s honored presence at the Queen Consolidated annual staff Christmas party which his mother and Walter were set to attend in two days.

“I am exceedingly serious, Oliver,” Moira Queen looked as deeply frustrated as Oliver felt inside, at last setting down the book she had been attempting to read when Oliver stalked into the room waving a red and green invitation. “It does no harm to attend an employee party at the company. Why are you so averse?”

“For one thing, I’m not even an employee at Queen Consolidated, Mom!” Oliver reiterated for at least the fourth time in the discussion, growing irritated with his domineering mother. “I thought we clearly discussed my stance on working at the company after the Applied Sciences building opened?”

“You can still have the decency to represent our family and your father’s memory at a company function,” Moira countered with easy grace and authority Oliver remembered all-too-well from before the island. Even if her discipline had been directed at people other than himself, Oliver had never forgotten the sting infused with such taut coldness.

“You spend enough time up at Queen Consolidated to give people ideas,” Moira continued more reproachfully than Oliver felt was warranted. “A great deal of people have come to think you’ll be joining the company some time in the future, regardless your belligerent scene at the groundbreaking. It has been months since then, anyway. A person can change their mind and many believe you have or soon will. Hearing the way you talk now, I have to wonder myself what other reason could possibly draw you up to Queen Consolidated so frequently. Are you sure you haven’t changed your mind?”

“Undoubtedly positive,” Oliver enunciated more clearly and slowly than strictly necessary, hoping to make his point and have done with the subject. He had a visit with an IT expert that couldn’t wait.

Observing his facial features with heavy focus, under which effects Oliver use to squirm self-consciously, Moira finally sighed and turned her eyes away.

“All right,” the Queen matriarch remarked after a pause, turning back to her son with another familiar, unbending expression that led Oliver nearer to agitated groaning than usual. “I’ll leave that subject alone for the present time. However, I am still asking you to attend the annual Christmas staff party with us. We’ve already sent your response and I wouldn’t want to put any of the planners out with extra money spent for a seat that won’t be filled. Humor me, Oliver, please?”

Suspecting far more in Moira Queen’s pleading expression and request than a simple desire to appease the party planners, Oliver nevertheless didn’t dare say anything in that regard and merely nodded his agreement. If he required another ‘public scene’ to nail the point home with his mother, then he could plan it later; time indicated other plans must come first.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Moira smiled warmly at her son and laid a motherly hand on his forearm. Settling back down to read her book, Moira left Oliver to evacuate the room on cautiously rapid feet.

Rolling back his shoulders to ease out some of the tension of the argument with his mother, Oliver headed out the front entrance and hopped onto the motorcycle for what had swiftly become routine visitation to a certain IT specialist at his family’s company.

The IT department was dark and yet comforting – despite the brightness outside – when the billionaire headed in, finding the ponytail-styled blonde sitting very engrossed in a tablet behind her desk. Incredibly engrossed, as a matter of fact.

Barely smiling at her inordinate concentration and allowing the tension with his mother to fade away, Oliver finally spoke up, “Hey.”

Felicity Smoak startled as though he had shot off a gun beside her, gasping a little and rebuking Oliver’s presence immediately, “Don’t you knock?”

“Felicity, this is the IT department,” Oliver retorted with heavily-buried amusement in his voice, shaking his head for emphasis as he added, “It’s not the ladies’ room.”

Laughing a bit breathlessly, Felicity looked down with some sheepishness as she agreed, “Right.”

Taking the time to close something on her tablet – curious, Oliver thought to himself – Felicity finally looked back up at him with wider eyes as she asked, “What can I do for you?”

Already spinning a rather elaborately carved lie in his mind, Oliver put a good deal of playful emotion into his voice as he answered, “My buddy, Steve, is really into archery. Apparently, it’s… it’s all the rage now.”

Turning away to put her tablet down on the desk, Felicity commented casually, “Yeah, I don’t know why… Looks utterly ridiculous to me.”

Felicity’s expressive face and blue eyes displayed a sense of ‘whatever floats your boat’ that forced Oliver to forcibly dispel a laugh that wanted to escape his throat. Instead, he remarked neutrally with a simple ‘mm-hm’ to guide the conversation along. Still, he couldn’t help staring a moment at the blonde; if only she knew what he did with his nights…

Rushing forward in spite of his humor, Oliver added, “Anyway, it’s Steve’s birthday next weekend and… I wanted to buy him some arrows.”

So saying, Oliver popped the lid off the container he held, pulling out the long black arrow of his nemesis with far more casual ease than Felicity’s widened eyes portrayed in her own senses.

“Thing is,” Oliver went as though nothing was amiss, “he gets these… special… custom-made arrows and I have… no idea where he gets them.”

Holding back the projectile in both hands with a pause to make sure he had the quirky woman’s full attention, Oliver finished with, “I was hoping you could find out where this came from.”

Allowing his request to settle in the quietly-charged atmosphere between them, Oliver at last rolled the arrow up and back down within reach of Felicity’s grasp, presenting it like a priceless artifact. And in truth, he supposed it was. Finding this new archer meant saving lives, really. As the new enemy had proven, he cared little for collateral damage.

Felicity’s smile looked more mysteriously invested with a mystic giddiness than Oliver expected from most people. Struck by the intensity with which he had brought the brilliant young woman into his dark activities, and the potential price that might already lay on her blonde head, Oliver couldn’t help feel suddenly wrong.

Yet it was too late now for that particular concern, wasn’t it? Oliver repressed a frown and decided he couldn’t change her involvement now. All he could do was ensure her safety from here on out. Besides, he found he needed her skills and knowing assistance more than he thought he needed anyone’s help in his mission.

“Careful!” Oliver warned the eager investigator anyway, pulling the bow back from her hand before she could actually grasp the arrow.

A shadow of exasperation and annoyance crossed Felicity’s still-eager features while she waited for him to drop the arrow to her clutch. She agreed more quickly than Oliver cared to hear, “Yeah.”

Dauntless even with his warning, the IT expert’s expectation led Oliver to release the arrow to her fingers as planned.

Taking it with a burst of smile, Felicity instantly began to examine the arrow in her hands, searching up and down the metal with subtle excitement. Within seconds of Oliver taking a seat before the desk, his constant researcher found what she needed to see.

“The shaft’s composite is patented,” she informed the billionaire, glancing between the patent name and her computer. “And that patent is registered to a company called Sagittarius.”

Smiling at her rapid success, Felicity looked back up at Oliver and offered up the black arrow. When Oliver did not immediately take it in hand, the blonde added informatively, “That’s latin… for archer.”

Shaking himself enough to reach for the weapon in the IT expert’s hands, Oliver responded slightly awkwardly as he put away the arrow, “Really... Could you find out where and when this was purchased?”

Felicity smiled again, her subsequent head tilt and sigh telling Oliver his question was very ridiculous, but she would do as he asked all the same. A few clicks and the specialist began answering him, “According to Sagittarius company records, that… particular arrow is part of a bundle shipment… Two-hundred units...”

Her face bespoke the growing disbelief in Oliver’s admittedly shoddy story-telling. Hobby archers didn’t purchase two-hundred highly customized special units for casual practice.

In spite of that, Felicity began to write on a notepad, explaining, “…sent… to this address.”

Ripping off the sheet, the blonde handed it over with what Oliver dubbed her ‘easy success smile.’ Felicity Smoak had many different types of smiles, he found out; this was only one of the vast multitude of bright expressions she wore.

“Felicity…” Oliver began, taking the paper with an unnecessary flourish and a wider smile than normal. Taking a little breath, the sandy-haired billionaire completed his thought, “You’re remarkable.”

“Thank you for remarking on it,” Felicity quipped instantly, eliciting a softer, warmer smile on her face – almost shy, if Oliver was to judge.

Still smiling, Oliver stood from his seat, grabbing the arrow as he made to leave. Before he could fully turn away, he leaned back towards the IT expert to add, “and Merry Christmas.”

“I’m Jewish,” Felicity corrected in a heartbeat, the words rushing from her mouth.

Oliver turned back thoughtfully at the sudden words, pausing to sincerely offer, “Happy Hanukkah.”

Felicity had brought nervous fingers to her lips, clearly worried over her expulsion of information, but Oliver felt pleased to know a little more about his babbling blonde acquaintance.

Before he fully turned back to the doorway, Oliver’s eyes caught on a familiar red and green invitation lying on the far side of the desk space. Struck by how awkward Felicity must feel being part of a Christmas-specific party, Oliver frowned slightly.

“The company should really expand to a holiday party,” Oliver commented out of the blue, drawing Felicity eyes back up to the man she must have thought gone from her office.

“Um… what?” she asked, bewildered.

“The annual staff party,” Oliver clarified, gesturing at the same invitation he had waved in his mother’s direction not an hour before. “It should be broadened into a holiday party, not just Christmas. Employees like yourself are being excluded for no reason.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Felicity half-laughed, the same nervous and awkward sound when she didn’t want to get into a particular topic or wasn’t prepared for the turn of discussion. “I just go to socialize a little. Make sure no one thinks I’m a total recluse.”

“Well, that doesn’t make it right to exclude your holiday,” Oliver smiled at her honestly. “I’ll throw a word to Walter about it.”

“That’s… really not necessary,” Felicity replied, making a very goofy face as she worked through words she did and didn’t want to actually say. “You don’t have to bring me into this. I’m just fine… Finest fine that ever fined… Uh…”

Intervening despite the amusing word salad tendency Felicity had, Oliver concluded firmly, “I’m going to say something about it. You don’t have to be involved, I’m sure there are plenty of others who would appreciate the gesture, so no names are really necessary.”

“Well, okay,” Felicity bit her lip at the anonymity she’d been granted on the subject. “That’s probably true. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Oliver nodded at her firmly. “I’ll see you at the party, then.”

“You’ll be there?”

Oliver bit back a real smile at the higher tone to Felicity’s voice as she asked.

“My mother seems to think I can be convinced to become a part of the ‘team’ some day,” was all Oliver explained.

“Ah, I see,” Felicity nodded knowledgeably, then stopped suddenly to shake her head in the negative. “What am I saying? I don’t see. I mean I understand what you said, and it makes sense, but I… you know what, I’ll just see you at the Christmas party.”

“Holiday party,” Oliver corrected slyly, smile lingering on his lips as he glossed over the blonde’s awkward spouting. “It’s not too hard to understand my mother’s hopes. Although I think it will probably snow in Starling City before that happens… Not that I would mind a little snow.”

“You want snow?” Felicity lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

“I’m not saying I want a white Christmas, exactly,” Oliver paused, then shrugged. “I kind of miss a little snow here and there… Nevermind my odd wishes… I’ll see you at the party, Felicity.”

Felicity calmed in the face of his casual exit, allowing her face to ease into a little smile as Oliver walked out of the IT department with a fresher, calmer acceptance of his party attendance, all thoughts of causing a scene in any way dissipating completely.

The day of the party flurried into being with a great, fluttering to-do of activity overseen by Moira and Walter in tandem. After last minute orders and directions had been put into place, the Queen matriarch returned to the son she had literally begged to attend the event, joining him in a seat at the edge of the room where no one was working.

“Well, Oliver,” Moira spoke up with a knowing hedge in her voice, turning to look at her son with cunning expectation. “You seem to have picked up a peculiar investment with this party since three days ago. May I ask what changed?”

To the average observer, Moira’s question belied none of the hard edge of curiosity and suspicion that Oliver now heard like clockwork.

“It just didn’t seem right to exclude people in the workforce here who celebrate differently from us,” Oliver proposed with a casualness he didn’t precisely feel. For reasons he couldn’t pinpoint – reasons beyond keeping his secret – Oliver didn’t want his mother to find out about Felicity any more than she already might have.

“I see,” Moira allowed with secretive agreeableness.

“Can you excuse me, Mom?” Oliver attempted escape before the interrogation could begin, standing before his mother could even respond.

“Of course, sweetheart,” the socialite agreed more warmly than necessary, leaving Oliver wary of who he spent time with during the party. Moira Queen would not wait for an answer before drawing conclusions Oliver didn’t need.

Taking a trip out into the hallway, Oliver breathed deeply to calm himself and allay his concerns. Already dressed in his black suit and tie for the party, he had no excuses to actually leave before it all started. Sighing over his luck, the vigilante simply made his way around the floor as slowly as he could possibly meander without causing concern (or more likely, suspicion) from his mother.

With that concept in mind, Oliver amazed himself by finding a clear view of the city through a wall of empty office windows, and a hitherto untapped well of observatory staying power. Over all the hubbub and traffic and buildings far below, Oliver found a strange kind of peace in the constancy of Starling City’s populace he had never before felt.

“Oliver?”

Starting minutely at the intrusion on his surprisingly peaceful thoughts, Oliver turned to find Walter standing in the doorway with hands clasped behind his back.

“Walter,” the younger man greeted his stepfather with a nod.

“The doors will open in fifteen minutes,” the British businessman informed Oliver cordially, turning amused a moment later, “Your mother of course was worried you’d changed your mind at the last minute.”

Affecting a half-laugh, Oliver remarked wryly, “Well, we both know Mom likes to worry over nothing sometimes.”

Laughing as well, Walter added with a tilt of his head, “I must say I’ve found your mother to be far more rational than most, actually. But I suppose for children of any age, their parents seem overzealous much of the time.”

“I guess you’re right,” Oliver nodded as an end to the subject, smile stretching a little less than naturally on his features. “We’d better get back before she worries any more.”

By the time they reached the main space for the celebration, the guests had already begun to arrive, many employees followed in by spouses or adult relatives while more people than Oliver expected came all alone. Moira and Walter dragged him around the room meeting all the heads of departments and their assistants, sparingly followed by some of those not positioned in leadership yet holding respectably important jobs.

The party was in full swing, champagne flowing and wine swirling while canapés flooded trays around the room, when Oliver finally saw the familiar blonde ponytail bouncing through the crowd like a ball of sunshine. Repressing a smile with his mother so close, Oliver quietly and casually made his way through the employees towards the more secluded windows.

As expected, Felicity found him first, eyes widening briefly with pleased recognition behind her glasses as she made her way over. Much to Oliver’s pleasure in the moment, Moira Queen remained heavily involved in an intense debate with the Head of Accounting across the room, her back facing them.

“Oliver, hi,” Felicity made a funny, manic little wave at her shoulder level, drawing Oliver’s attention to the red dress that crossed subtly over the chest emphasizing a silver leaf necklace and tiny silver studs, the skirt flaring past the hips. Matching red suede footwear with a multitude of straps adorned Felicity’s feet. Just enough quirk to offset the basic dress, Oliver noted with the edge of a smile.

“Felicity,” Oliver nodded when the blonde stood close enough, a larger smile teasing his lips.

“You um… seem to have… you know,” Felicity blew out her lips and cheeks in a ridiculous expression as she gestured goofily around the room, “changed things up.”

“I told you it wasn’t right,” was all Oliver said, lightly shrugging.

“Oh! I, uh… got this…” Felicity began haltingly, reaching around in the small silver purse hanging from her shoulder with a sudden frown and pinched brows, until she exclaimed, “Ah! This. I got this for you.”

Smiling proudly, the IT expert whipped a rectangular item into the air before Oliver’s nose, gripping her purse in the other hand.

Allowing a brief moment to feel startled in spite of himself, Oliver finally took a better look at whatever hovered in front of his face. Surprised to find a bright blue envelope between Felicity’s fingers, the billionaire instantly responded, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Oh, I wanted to,” Felicity waved him off, the encased card fluttering between them like a butterfly. “It’s the least I can do for you – for being so thoughtful.”

Caught by her logic and the stubborn will settled into those blue eyes, Oliver sighed and let it go, accepting the gift from her to slit the envelope and open the card itself.

“No, wait, don’t—!” Felicity tried to stop him, hands rushing forward too late to stop Oliver’s fingers from popping open the folded greeting.

A plume of white burst into Oliver’s face as though a gust of wind had suddenly thrown itself into the room, bits and pieces of white, glittering confetti blockading the billionaire’s eyes.

“…open it…” Felicity belatedly completed her warning, cringing visibly at the sight of Oliver’s crisp black suit decked out with tiny white snowflakes.

“Oh, I’m – I’m so sorry,” Felicity apologized, hands holding her mouth like it might run away from her. “You… you said you wanted snow… I meant for you to open it after the party. Well after…”

Oliver closed his eyes briefly to retain his stoic image and opened them again to find Felicity worrying her bright red fingernails already. The brilliant blonde looked horrified, eyes wide and elbows almost locked together before her.

“Thank you, Felicity,” Oliver said simply, taking a moment to actually read the Christmas card and its grateful message for his party interventions before looking back up at his companion, “I appreciate you getting me this.”

“You’re welcome,” Felicity responded, the phrase nearly a question.

“I think attacking confetti is the least of my worries right now,” Oliver said as dry as a bone, the first real tease he’d made in a long time.

Felicity laughed, really laughed, with a sort of deep giggle from the back of her throat Oliver never heard before. The unexpected sound was warm and pleasant, with that same quirkiness this particular woman had always been imbued with.

“At least you aren’t giving the same kind of ridiculous stories you usually do,” Felicity commented boldly, leaving Oliver more speechless than he cared to admit.

“Ah,” Felicity instantly tried to redact her words, eyes closing tightly in mortification for her slip, “not that… you are… a liar. No, not at all. It’s just, amazing, how… creative… all of yourrrr… acquaintances arrrreee…”

The drawn out words came across even more ridiculously than Oliver could have imagined – if he imagined it, which he highly doubted. Felicity Smoak was startlingly unpredictable and unexpected in her mannerisms and reactions. How many times had she caught him off guard with her blunt honesty and quirky sarcasm since they met in October? Oliver had long since failed to keep an accurate count.

“I do have fascinating acquaintances,” Oliver nodded, lips firmed up with false realization. “Thank you. For noticing.”

“My… pleasure,” Felicity laughed low and uncomfortable through her front teeth. “Always glad to clear up a mystery for a frie-friend… friend? ah, uhm… friendly! acquaintance!”

The blonde Oliver had chosen to go to for technological expertise looked ready for the ground to swallow her whole. Had the billionaire not seen his mother turning slightly, he would have spent more time reassuring his go-to IT.

As it was, he still couldn’t leave it all to sit so oddly between them.

“As I said… you’re remarkable, Felicity,” Oliver settled for, adding a tiny smile that belied his acceptance of the blonde’s many verbal slips. Moira nearly turned around, her eyes practically approaching Oliver and his very female company…

“Of course, thank you,” Felicity ended their talk quietly and far more calmly.

Moira turned back around at someone’s new greeting, and Oliver exhaled softly in relief.

“You’re welcome,” he nodded once at Felicity, blue eyes reassuring under the social mask.

Nodding once in return with a mild smile tightening over her teeth, the blonde turned awkwardly around towards the rest of the party, ready to head into the nearby crowd.

Out of the blue, without a warning, Oliver spoke as carelessly as Felicity often did.

“We’re hosting a party at the mansion this Friday,” he nearly blurted out, stunned by his own barefaced suggestion.

Felicity whirled around in equal shock, eyes wide and wondering behind her glasses and red lips slightly parted.

“I know it’s technically a Christmas party,” he was able to recover a little, but still didn’t know quite how to move forward with the offer.

“Well, it’s a personal family party, so… that… makes sense,” Felicity appeared to recover herself a bit as well, slowly working through what precisely Oliver was saying underneath it all.

“Would you like to come?” Oliver pushed the words out, stamping out his hesitation. Felicity could be trusted and he had already put it on the line; may as well finish it.

“I… well… that’s nice of you,” the blonde managed, eyes still wide blue pools staring up at Oliver. “Why would you want—”

Oliver cut across the IT expert’s doubts with a wave of confidence he didn’t expect to feel as an idea washed over him, “You’ll see snow to rival the whitest of Christmases.”

“You can’t really promise anything about the weather,” Felicity smiled a little goofily, blowing out through her lips in disbelief buffered by rich amusement. “Everyone knows that.”

“Well, I can promise you snow,” Oliver swore steadily. “Come and see for yourself.”

“Oh, really?” Felicity challenged him with a light laugh. “You’re on, Mr. Qu–”

“Oliver,” he corrected immediately, head tilted sideways a moment.

“Oliver,” edited Felicity quickly, eyes thoughtful and struck by recollection all at once. “Point being… I accept.”

“Good,” Oliver concluded easily. “The party starts at six.”

“All right,” Felicity said in a mix of quiet and some shyness, already stepping back as though she wasn’t entirely sure how to end the moment they became so caught up in.

“I’ll see you there,” Oliver ended it more conclusively for the awkward blonde, tapping the card she had given on her red-capped shoulder.

Moira Queen never turned around and Oliver walked away feeling gloriously successful for the first time in many years.

My stories and story prompts can be found on the page called The Written Word on my blog.