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kyotohub-ktv · 6 years ago

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金貨 | The Idol Watch

With a bow hinged at his waist, he gripped Kenta K’s outstretched hand with as much enthusiasm as he could forfeit. They exchanged a brief few pleasantries before he turned his attention to Mitsuri, with her hand delicately dangling forward, the other pressed comically to her cheek. Shino graciously lifted his palm beneath the woman’s to gently lift it in a more romantique fashion. “Oh my! What a gentleman!” Mitsuri teased as she fluttered her oversized lashes. After a sly wink in the female hosts direction, he nearly leapt to his seat out of fear his knees could give at any unwilling second. The rest of the SNOW crew made their ways passed the host greeting checkpoint as he firmly planted himself at the first (much too short) stool on the first row. If it weren’t for his throbbing nerves, he would have remembered how uncomfortable the seats were.

He should be thrilled, engulfed by the swell of applause and the privilege of this moment none of them would forget. If SNOW’s success were to blossom as much as Mr.Inoue had reassured them time and time again, neither would the many...many viewers. Unfortunately, the last thing on Shino’s mind before he entered the stage was the scene he’d witnessed behind the privacy of stage curtains.

‘Deep breath…’

SNOW’s frontman urged to himself, abusing the generic mantra to restore some of his fleeting composure.

‘You’re not smiling...’

Shino’s lungs expanded slowly as he inhaled the humid air beneath the spotlight. His ridged lips loosened enough to restore a pleasant smile as an unsteady breath huffed from his mouth. The singer felt the need to slap himself any time he had to be personally reminded of basic human interaction. He rolled his shoulders as he straighten his posture, trying not to fidget while their rivals filed in after his band-mates. If he were being honest, the only member of WISH aside from Daichi that he’d remembered was Mina.

A jolt of anxiety ricocheted from his knees to his elbows, threatening his persona as it crept it’s way up his legs. The hailing audience begun to hollow out like the curl of ocean waves, tumbling through Shino’s ears like lost sea shells. He couldn’t take his eyes away as Daichi took Mitsuri’s hand within his own, much resembling what he’d witnessed a few moments earlier.

“Wow! A bold move from WISH’s Daichi! Am I sensing a loooove connection?” The outlandish Kenta K teased at the blonde’s predetermined gesture.

Shino swallowed the knot in his throat as he refused the urge to pull at the collar of his shirt, the action probably suited for the faux display. As Mitsuri and Kenta awaited the audience to settle, the stage lights began to alter to set the tone for the procession of the program.

“Now that everyone’s introduced, let’s get to prying! Shall we?”

‘Here we go…’ The vocalist cursed to himself.

“I second that! Let’s start with SNOW. So how are you guys feeling tonight!”

The white spotlights rounded their way to the collection of musicians as the crowd silenced with the anticipation of the interview. Regardless of the numerous times the group had stood before those bright stage lights, he still hadn’t quite gotten used to their blinding quality.

“It’s so exciting to be here!” Nami exclaimed as she clapped her hands together, the crowd erupting once again.

“It seems like everyone’s just as excited!” Kenta responded, wrangling the applause.

“How about you, Okita?” The male host continued down the row.

The blonde guitarist could hardly sit still, clearly fueled by adrenaline. “It’s like a dream come true!” He said with stars in his eyes as he glanced around the stage.

Mitsuri then turned her attention to Shino with her hand cocked at her hip. “Shino-san, you seem pretty quite over there!”

‘Damn it…’

The studio was struck with silence, obviously anticipating the vocalists response. He swallowed passed the knot in this throat and offered a smile before he spoke in a low voice. “I guess you could say I’m a bit shy.” High pitched squeals echoed from beyond the stage. “Wooow~ Who would have thought SNOW’s lead singer was shy!” Kenta extended on Shino’s response.

‘The guys are probably laughing their asses off right now…’

“So being more reserved, how do you prepare yourself to perform on stage?”

“Well…” The singer started as he rubbed at his chin in thought.

----

“Listen, I got you guys a spot opening for Momento Mori at The 86.” The gruff male spoke candidly as he swiftly lit the cigarette between his lips. The quartet gawked at each other before Shino broke the silence. “You w-what?!” The vocalist slammed his hands atop the bar as he nearly fell off his stool. “You guys have only improved, so I think you’re ready for the big crowd.” Mr.Inoue tapped against the ashtray before sucking in another breath. “I’ve also got a few old friends coming in to check you guys out, so don’t fuck it up.” He said lightheartedly. “Oh, great! As if playing before Momento Mori wasn’t enough…” Okita piped up as he ran his fingers through his hair. Shino gestured a hand towards Okita, an attempt to calm the guy down. “So who are these ‘friends’ of yours?”

“Just a couple of colleagues or more fondly known as drinking buddies from my days with K Talent.” He said as he gripped the top of his low-ball glass and gave it a swirl before taking a professional sip. “That’s good, so maybe you can get them hammered so they won’t notice if we bomb this!” Okita responded, only half joking. Mr.Inoue clattered the remaining ice chips in his now empty glass and chuckled. “I can’t make any promises, but I’m confident in the four of you, so don’t sweat it so much.”

“Was Mr.Inoue being nice just now? How how many drinks has he had?” Nami mused with laughter between her words.

“Irrelevant!” Mr.Inoue spoke, his voice rising in volume. “Drunk or not, I am putting all my faith in SNOW. You guys are going to be huge.”

A Month Later…

Shino’s statuesque silhouette stood plastered in front of The 86 for a solid hour before anyone could drag him away from below the matinee. The letters were smaller than the headliners, but that’s all his starstruck eyes could see.

Momento Mori

Featuring

SNOW

It was their first big show in front of a crowd that was more than just 50 drunken fools in Tozai. Evidently, those small monthly gigs lead their current manager Kenji Inoue, who moonlit as the owner of Tozai, to take notice. Back in his day, Mr.Inoue had represented some of the biggest groups and solo artists to come out of Kyoto. Long story short, Mr.Inoue had put his managing days behind until he witnessed SNOW’s raw potential and decided to take them under his wing.

The 86 was the House of Blues equivalent in the dirty little nook of Kyoto, Yoba. Shino recalled the many times he and Okita had snuck in to see some legendary shows. The pair of delinquents would dote all the way home how they’d be up on that stage some day. But to kids like Shino, a daydream typically remained just that. Perhaps that’s why anxiety was crippling the vocalist to his core as he gripped the tarnished porcelain sink of The 86’s bathroom.

‘Don’t fuck this up.’ Mr.Inoue’s meant-to-be teasing words had been stabbing at his confidence for the last 24 hours. He knew the guy was only kidding, but the phrase had gained in weight as he relentlessly continued to dwell.

‘Deep breath…’

Shino bore into his reflection in the mirror as if to search within himself to rip out the strength he needed. His fists clenched against the sink to stabilize the shaking in his limbs. The trembling singer watched as his shoulders lifted and his chest swelled to draw in a long inhale.

3….

He recalled each and every moment he’d practiced this little breathing ritual, which was often enough to have faith in its ability. As the oxygen filled his lungs, a voice from his past echoed in the empty spaces that began to make room in his head. “Shino, carefully exhale through the mouth, and count to two.”

2…

“Then slowly open your eyes as you take another inhale through the nose. Suddenly, the nostalgic words were the only thing on his mind as he calmly took another in another breath.

“As the air fills your diaphragm, that is your moment.”

As he opened his lids, his hands had loosened to a relaxed position at his sides and his shoulders had probably dropped about two inches. Without a second to waste, Shino turned from his reflection and gripped the door handle with enough confidence to take the stage.

“We got this…”

---

“Sometimes I do still get quite nervous…” Shino spoke honestly. “When I started taking music lessons, my instructor really helped me through my nerves.”

“Ahh! They must have been quite the teacher if you’ve come this far!” Kenta K said enthusiastically into his microphone.

Shino smiled in response as he spoke. “Yes, I’m very grateful to them…”

“Hopefully they’re watching tonight!” Mitsuri said before she began to transition through the rest of the Q&A session and turned her attention to WISH.

“So, WISH! How are you feeling about tonight’s show?”

Another eruption of applause flooded the studio as each opposing band member perked up in their chairs. As their leader, Ryuu, had begun his intro, Shino faded back behind the spotlight and into his own train of thoughts.

With hindsight to all of the internal stress he’d been put under, (which was no one’s fault but his own) he’d totally fucking forgotten about the live performances that they’d be doing after the interviews. He suddenly felt like the focal point of the eruption of laughter that bellowed from the audience as he spiraled into a brand new dose of self consciousness.

Not only was it their first ever television debut of their latest hit song- but he’d surely be under the microscope by their controversially dubbed “rivals”… and most importantly Daichi. Shino felt a dryness in his throat, a sensation extremely troublesome for a lead vocalist.

Having to play the piano, or even speak in front of the guy was already stressful enough, he mulled over as sweat began to build along his brow. And now he had to sing?

Another trait he’d noticed about this Daichi was that he was absolutely impossible to read, even to his band-mate Mina.

“What does he really think about me?” The questioned burned as he slyly stole a glance at the blonde on the opposite side of the stage.

“And the next question goes to Shino!” The sound of his name pulled at his attention like a choke chain as he snapped his gaze to Kenta K.

“Where did this ‘rivalry’ title between SNOW and WISH begin?”

‘Shit.’ He got possibly the most controversial question of all of them!

“Well-..” The singer started as he clasped his hands together, lowly clearing his throat before he answered the loaded question.

“I think that certain people enjoy that kind of thing, but as musicians that just want to bring people together, we would like to become allies.” He knew it was pretty daring to speak for the nine of them, but nobody could complain if he kept it positive, right?

His assumption appeared to be right as he peered at his fellow musicians for confirmation as they nodded with approval with his statement. Another round of applause praised the stage as their rumored rivalry continued to simmer down.

‘Phew, glad that was a good response…’ Pleased with himself, Shino sighed while host’s attention continued down the line.

The more answers his ears were a tuned to, the more he actually began to warm up to the quintet behind them. They were passionate, funny, and respected a lot of the same principals and values as he did. Perhaps the media had a bigger influence in their first impressions than he realized.

Then the spotlight landed on Daichi.

“In light of the perceived rivalry between your two bands and in order to quell some of those rumors (if you can), what is one thing you admire about SNOW?”

The question he’d asked himself earlier came crawling back with another god forsaken jolt in his chest.

“What does he really think about me…”

Shino kept his eyes forward as he subconsciously began to fiddle his thumbs with anticipation.

“I think that SNOW’s lyrical prowess is something to be admired. They always find unexpected ways to word something or make an ordinary phrase musical.”

Was that an indirect compliment!?

He prayed to whatever gods were out there that the small flush that arose on his pale cheeks wouldn’t be obvious as Daichi’s statement hit him way harder than it should have.

He admires my lyrics?!

Shino nearly bit his lip open trying to conceal the smile that fought against his cool persona. Just about everything that followed fell on deaf ears as the guy was about to crack.

He was just so damn happy.

---

As the show proceeded, it was obvious the collection of musicians had loosened up considerably compared to the stress of being in the hot seat. They’d made it through the Q&A without a hitch, something Mr.Inoue would probably already be celebrating with a toast to himself. The little ice breaking games and activities (albeit embarrassing at times) just added to a successful debut.

Before he knew it, the blinding spotlights had dimmed to a now acceptable level as a beaming Kenta K and Mitsuri headed over to congratulate them.

“Awesome show, you guys. I think this’ll be one of our highest rated yet.”

“Yeah! For sure,” Mitsuri added, placing a hand on her sharply hip. “We can’t wait to hear you guys perform. That’ll set the ratings off for sure.”

Finally, Shino could allow himself to smile a toothy grin under the guise of receiving their appraisal.

“That went way better than I expected!” Okita blurted out as everyone stretched their legs and exchanged a few pleasant words to each other before their chatter was interrupted by what he’d assumed was one of the producers.

“Alright, we’re back on in seven minutes. SNOW, you’re up first. WISH, we’ll be moving you to the gallery area there-...”

The mans words came out a little too fast for Shino to process, leading him to really take in their meaning in a delayed few seconds.

“Everyone clear?”

His could hardly respond as the four of them were quickly whisked off to the separate stage in which they’d be performing their song “Butterfly”. Shino couldn’t allow his thoughts to stray from his focus, he hadn’t spoken a word since the interview had ended, even when Satsu had wished him luck as he applied a few last second touch ups to his appearance.

Shino was the last person to reach his mark as the other SNOW members were contently preparing their instruments with a breeziness that never failed to impress him.

“You guys look like you’ve done this a thousand times.” He joked at the confidence he envied of his band-mates.

“We probably have if you included all the times we imagined it.” Wataru called out to their front-man as he gave him an encouraging smile. Shino gently slid a finder up the base of the stand in front of him before caressing a sturdy palm around the microphone. With literally seconds to spare, Nami, Okita, and Wataru collected to the front of the stage for a last little good luck ritual. The group bumped their fists together as Shino whispered a low “We got this.”

As they retreated back to their marks, Shino turned to face the direction of the overwhelming cries of anticipation which chanted their names.

3….

The deafening calls of the audience sent a shiver down his spine in a way that ignited his soul on fire. Shino inhaled the air as he used each of his senses to engulf every second.

2…

Gradually, the stage lights returned to their former glow, releasing that inner flame that began to burn in his chest.

Nothing beyond the microphone seemed to matter as the piano chords began to swallow the silence. His heart beat at a steady pace with a nostalgic thrum as the vocalist briefly shut his eyes and released an even breath through his parted lips.

#Shidai #shino-pov #shino #idolwatch #ktalent

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hoodsmoaked · 8 years ago

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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.

#CW Arrow #Let It Snow #Part 1: Bit & Pieces #olicity #THEWRITTENWORD #arrow season 1 #arrow au #arrow fic #arrow fanfiction #arrow 1x09 #arrow year's end

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