Hey readers! So here is the start of my new Olicity fic. A full fic this time! Some of you may have read the preview over on Tumblr, I urge you to read through again. I added/tweaked some details and made the writing a little better (since I was sick when I first typed it out).

This is my version of the "No-Island AU". . . only a bit more AU-y instead of just straight up no-island. A few character histories/relationships are different and I'm just writing for fun. So if you don't like rom-com sort of AU's then move along. Although I promise a good mix of comedy, sex, angst, fluff, and Olicity :)

Enjoy!

p.s. The title is inspired by the song "Zero" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I was listening to it when I came up with this idea and imagine it playing during the "hi" scene.

Green, green, red, green, blue, blue, red, green, red.

Every time she blinked the world was painted in a different color. The bass from the oversized speakers drummed into her chest and synced up with the pattern of her heart. Her fingers reached up to adjust her glasses-a nervous tic she'd had since she'd gotten them at the age of eight-but they stopped short when she remembered that she had left her pink and black frames at home for the night, trading them out for her contacts instead. Her blue eyes popped from her frameless face, taking in all the activity around her. Felicity wasn't used to being in clubs. She'd been to a few in college, but her studious habits didn't leave much time for partying. She'd always preferred people to computers anyways.

Tonight there were people everywhere, but that was probably to be expected at Starling City's hottest new nightclub.

The clubbers covered the multiple bars, the dance floor, and the VIP loft above, circling around fancy tables and couches, whispering, laughing, dancing, and drinking. The merriment going on around her felt like some sort of modern day Roman myth come to life-the kind of parties you only read about in legends. In the back of her mind she wondered if the amount of bodies in the club didn't break some sort of fire code.

On cue an alarm went off and Felicity jumped, ready to spring for the doors, until she realized it was part of the DJ's mix and people were cheering as a harsh strobe flashed over the dance floor.

"Come on!"

A friendly hand slipped into hers and pulled her forward. She nearly stumbled on her high stiletto heels as she allowed herself to be dragged in the direction of the bar.

"Slow down there," Felicity said as her friend, Sara, pushed two beer-drinking guys out of the way and yanked her up against the bar. Her ribs hit the silver and she winced at her fellow blonde's excited face. "It's not like they're going to run out of alcohol."

"Shots!" Sara exclaimed holding her hand up to catch the bartender's attention. The guys she had thrust aside, who had been shooting annoyed looks in Sara's direction, seem to get over their irritation when they heard her alcoholic intentions . . . or maybe it was the way her boobs jiggled in her blue halter dress as she waved her hand over her head.

Felicity dropped her head into her hands, shaking it back and forth. Her normally smoothed curtain of hair, fell in textured sandy waves around her cheeks. She felt more comfortable for the moment. Hidden. "I'm going to regret this aren't I?"

"Shut up," Sara replied and turned to make her request to the bartender. "No regrets tonight, remember? We are Party Sara and Party Felicity and tonight we party."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "You're always party Sara."

Sara had always been the fun one in the friendship. Sara liked to take risks and break curfew and stay out too late the night before a final. Carpe diem was her motto-or carpe noctrum rather, since Sara was much more of a night owl.

"And you're always Party Felicity," she nudged her. "Deep down."

Felicity wanted to argue. Felicity had never been Party Felicity. She had been Brainy Felicity or Study All Night in the Library Felicity or Geek Felicity . . .but never Party Felicity.

To Felicity Smoak a party was good wine and conversation, or maybe DVDs on the couch with Chinese take out or pizza. Sara Lance was a whole other species. She liked going out. She liked flirting and men. She liked getting drunk and waving her body out the moon roof of a limo at prom and almost getting hit in the face by a low hanging street sign. Sara lived the life of Paris Hilton minus the gross sex tapes, and looked much prettier while doing it.

How they had became friends, Felicity never knew. They were opposites in almost every single way. She actually couldn't remember exactly what made them hit it off, but she was lucky to know her. Sara was crazy, but she was fun-and a great friend.

They were the same age. Felicity had grown up in Central City and met Sara when she moved there when they were ten. She did remember feeling a kinship to the girl after finding out she didn't have a dad. Felicity didn't have a dad either. Well she did, but he had abandoned her and her mom when she was five. Sara on the other hand-her parents were divorced. Her mom had moved to Central and Sara had gone with her. The rest was history.

"Tonight we party," Sara declared. "we celebrate, because on Monday you start your take over of Queen Consolidated."

Felicity giggled. "I'm not taking over the company. I don't know if tech girls are poised for company takeovers."

"Whatever. You're smarter than everyone who's running it already, no doubt."

"I can't argue there," Felicity agreed, without a hint of humility. If there was one thing Felicity was more than ready to brag about, it was her intelligence. She had no trouble in being proud of her brainy accomplishments. She had worked hard in high school and college, graduating at the top of her classes, with full scholarships and an excellent job waiting for her now that the summer was at an end.

It was a shame she was surrounded by people who were much more interested in beauty rather than brains at the moment.

It was Felicity's brain and superior computer skills that had gotten them in the club in the first place. If anyone ever asked her about hacking, she would swear it was nothing more than a hobby . . . that she did not engage in. However, breaking around the barriers of Starling City's hottest nightclub, Verdant, and slapping both her and Sara's names on the guest list didn't hurt anyone. It was like she was endangering national security. She'd done it a million times, any time there was an event she and Sara wanted to sneak into, and they hadn't once been caught.

The bartender returned to them and lined up two shot glasses in front of Felicity and then two in front of Sara, pairing both sets with a salt shaker and a slice of lime. Felicity arched a brow. " Tequila. You really do plan on getting smashed tonight."

Sara threw an arm around her neck. "And you're coming with me." She raised the shot glass up in front of Felicity's face, a little bit of liquid spilling out over the side.

Felicity conceded. She'd gotten a new dress and her hair done for this. The dress was green, and hugged her body like a second skin. It covered her arms and stopped at her thighs, but the back was wide open.

Tonight she would be Sara Lance or Party Felicity or whoever it was that let go and broke a few rules and made a few mistakes. She'd drink the Kool-Aid-or tequila as it were-and go with the party flow.

Felicity clinked her shot glass against Sara's. "Let's do this."

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"You're a free man!"

Tommy clapped his hand over his shoulder, giving him a friendly and encouraging shake. Oliver threw a grin toward his best friend. It was his Starling grin. The one that said he was the king of this city and he knew it. Well . . . maybe not king yet. That title probably still belonged to his father. But Oliver Queen still ruled this town. He was modern day royalty in the flesh.

And after a year he was back on the prowl.

His eyes scanned the dance floor of the club-his club-the one that he and Tommy started six months ago. They'd spent three months researching and getting their venture set up before opening their doors. So far, every night for the past had been like this night. Their guest list was booked solid and they had a line of people as long as the entire city block waiting outside hoping to get a piece of the action.

The energy and excitement hadn't ebbed for a single second since Verdant had her grand opening. While Oliver had been on the peripheral of the fun, he hadn't really been participating in it. He'd been too busy getting the club up and running to really let loose and party along with everyone else.

But tonight was different. Tommy told him to let loose, that one night wouldn't kill him.

"You deserve it buddy," Tommy had said to him at lunch that afternoon. "Especially since . . .you know . . ."

The Starling smile slipped for just a moment.

Laurel.

Laurel had finally chucked him. She hadn't been thrilled when Oliver announced that he was opening the club with Tommy. She thought he needed to grow up and do something more "meaningful" with his life. Laurel was on her way to becoming a public defender-working long days for low pay to help make Starling City a better place.

"And I'm making them a club," Oliver had argued. "The best club. Legendary. Show the people a good time so they can forget about their troubles."

Laurel had shaken her head. "Ollie, the people don't need to forget their troubles. They need to face them so they can make their lives better."

The fighting had started and soon Oliver was spending more time at the club and Laurel was spending more time studying and they drifted apart.

She had finally called it quits on their relationship. Oliver had been stunned. He hadn't wanted to break up, but at the same time his heart was no longer in the relationship. It had been the longest relationship he'd ever had. Even though Laurel wasn't his first girl, he'd probably count her as his first girlfriend.

Laurel was the first girl that he'd ever been with for longer than a month. He was the first girl he gave flowers to on her birthday. The first girl whose parents he met and the first girl he had over to meet his own parents. They had done all those couple-y things that two people in love do together. Oliver had said he loved her a few times, but he was never quite sure if he was saying it or just saying it back. He couldn't remember a time when their hadn't been a "too" added on the end of the sentence.

Then she had started talking about moving in; taking the next step, and Oliver had started dreaming about the club, with Tommy.

He still couldn't believe that Laurel would have broken up with him. He was Oliver Queen. A thousand girls would die for a single night with him. Before Laurel, he'd had been with dozens of women, all of them trying to prove that they were girlfriend material. Something had made him choose Laurel. He couldn't remember what it was. Maybe because she was effortless and confident and didn't seem to like him just because of whom he was or what he could do for her.

He winced, sort of realizing that a part of him was sad that things were over. He wasn't sure he would ever find another girl who was close to that.

"Tommy, it's been a day," Oliver shouted at him over the pumping bass.

"It's been more than that," Tommy replied. "You need rebound sex."

Oliver just laughed. Tommy was happier to have his wingman back more than anything.

"I need a drink," Oliver said.

Tommy nodded and they turned, flagging down one of the waitresses in the VIP area and requesting a bottle service at one of their best tables. He didn't waste anytime singling out a couple girls either and flouting their owner status to impress the two brunette beauties. Oliver sat back as one of the girls sidled up to him and introduced herself.

After half a drink, her hand was already falling against his thigh, her eyes inviting him in. Easy girls, who didn't care if he was a disappointment or irresponsible or a failure. That's what he needed. He flashed the Starling grin one more time and knocked back his drink in full. Yes, tonight was going to be one for the books.

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.

.

Felicity was drunk. After their double shots of tequila she had ordered something fruity-rum might have been involved-and then Sara started talking to some guys who bought them more shots. They were green and syrupy; the waitress had called them Vertigo. They came in small vials off a hostess tray but Felicity downed the two she was given.

The air felt light and her body tingled. Feeling drunk was pretty awesome. She didn't know why she didn't do this more often. Not like every weekend, but once every couple of months. Just go out and let loose. She and Sara would have to make this a tradition.

She was talking to one of the guys leaning up against the bar, her words wrapping around her tongue a little more than usual. Her hand boldly pressed against his chest as she spoke. He grinned at her and then excused himself with his buddies, promising to come back.

Felicity spun around and landed in Sara's arms, giggles rumbling between them.

"This is fun," she whisper-yelled into her friend's ear. Whispering was difficult with the loud music pounding around them.

"Yeah," Sara replied. "Those guys are cute."

Felicity smiled. "He was really nice. And he listened to be babble about tech."

Guys who listened to her talk tech were high up on Felicity's checklist. They were few and far between.

"Trust me, he didn't understand a word you said," Sara laughed. "You're the only girl I know who can be wasted and still go on about html and computer coding with perfect clarity."

"It's my language," Felicity insisted.

"Well he doesn't speak it," Sara replied. "But you should totally hit that."

Felicity scrunched her nose. "I can't. If he doesn't know code he's not for me."

"He's a one night stand and he thinks you're hot," Sara insisted. "You don't need to know his name or anything about him. You just need to kiss him. Use tongue."

Felicity gave Sara a weak shove and giggled again. She was doing a lot of giggling that night. The DJ changed songs and Felicity's eyes went wide in excitement. "I love this one! Let's dance!"

Sara didn't even have to time to say no; not that she would have. She hollered loudly as Felicity grabbed her and pulled her in the direction of the dance floor. Felicity liked dancing. She usually only did it in the comfort of her own home, while doing the dishes or vacuuming. Sometimes in high school, she and Sara would have silly dance parties after a hard day, just to cheer up.

They pushed through the writhing bodies, not caring who they might be pissing off to get to the center of the action. Felicity raised her arms up over her arm and waved them over her body in time to the music. In the back of her mind, she knew she probably looked dumb. Sara danced around her, shaking her blonde waves and shimmying her hips like no tomorrow. Another song played and they stayed to dance again, the guys at the bar completely forgotten. Felicity was drunk and she was dancing and she was with her best friend. Who needed guys? She was Party Felicity.

.

.

.

Oliver eventually realized that there was a reason the girl had been so friendly so fast. He'd slept with her before-probably two years ago. Definitely before he was with Laurel, or at least before they were exclusive.

"Sorry," Tommy had smiled guiltily after they both realized his mistake. "My track keeping record is about as good as yours."

"No big deal," Oliver waved him off, taking another sip of his beer. Maybe he would just get drunk that night. No sex. He was already feeling pretty wasted. He'd matched the girls shot for shot back at the table and it seemed his nights of not partying had dulled his tolerance a bit. Laurel had said all he cared about was partying, but Oliver had gone almost three months without a proper night out. She could suck it. She didn't know him or understand him.

Then he saw a girl.

A girl that commanded attention.

She was hot. More than hot really, but better words weren't coming to mind. All he could see was blonde hair hanging over her bare back. It was a hot back. One that he wanted to touch. He wanted to slide a finger down the clicks of her spine and watch her shiver and shake and moan in her ear, one leg wrapped around his hips, while he was buried deep inside her.

"Whoa," he heard Tommy say. He'd see her, too.

"Dibs," Oliver called quickly, smirking.

"I'll let you have this one, but only because you're getting back in the saddle and mixed up the first one. Enjoy." Tommy raised his bottle of beer in salute and turned away to let Oliver prowl.

The crowd on the dance floor closed in again, but Oliver kept his eyes in the direction he had seen the girl. His feet moved forward, entranced in the fog of alcohol and trippy music and lust. He could see her.. . .green clad arms and hands with painted finger nails thrown up into the air.

He pushed through the dancers until he was right there, her back still toward him, close enough to touch. Her hips swayed in a figure-eight motion, which sent his blood rushing far from his head. He attempted to keep his wits and cool.

There were two ways to play this. He could just start dancing with her-even though he wasn't much of a dancer, or he could . . .

"Hi," he purred in her ear, trailing a hand over her shoulder and hoping she'd turn to face him.

She looked him up and down and smiled when her eyes reached his face again. "Hi," she returned, beginning to dance again.

That was that.

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.

.

There was a moment, a fleeting moment, where Party Felicity dropped away and regular Felicity took over, wondering if anonymous sex wasn't going too far. She didn't know who this guy was-hadn't even asked his name-but his eyes and the slight scruff on his chin and the way his body had filled out his pants and dress shirt made her forget to care. Then his mouth was on her throat and her back was against his front door and she decided not to turn into a pumpkin just yet. The night was not over and Party Felicity was still in full swing.

Wow, he had a way of kissing. It was brilliant. It was kissing that turned saints into sinners. The type of kissing that erupted volcanoes and sent the earth spinning. He sucked at her pulse point and Felicity let out a harsh moan. She loved when guys did that.

"Inside," she managed to stutter, shivering at the tone of her own voice.

He slipped keys from the pocket of his jacket and moved his hand under her arm to unlock the door while still kissing her. They almost fell inside.

Felicity knew stuff like this happened in other people's lives . . .or so she assumed. She'd seen it on TV and in movies hundreds of times; a couple so lost in the haze of passion that they could barely take their hands off of each other, frustrated tugging at clothes, kissing in between, tripping over furniture . . .

"Ow," Felicity gasped as her shin knocked into a coffee table. But she recovered in a blink and went for the buttons of his shirt, pulling them apart. It was a fantasy she'd always had and he seemed like a guy who could afford another button up. Her vision was blurry but the apartment looked nice. She could spot a big screen mounted on the wall and a leather living room set.

He laughed at her enjoyment in shredding his clothes and then tugged at her hem, dragging her dress over her shoulders. He had a nice laugh. She hadn't really been able to hear him over the noise in the club and they hadn't done much talking on the back of his motorcycle as they headed back to his place.

An expert kisser with a motorcycle and a body that could be on the cover of GQ; Party Felicity was definitely a great girl to be, she mused.

They made it to the bed and she crashed down, the guy landing over her, his hands trailing over her ribs and stomach. He kissed a path down her body and removed her underwear, pushing her legs apart, and laying kisses along her inner thigh. Then she was nothing but a pile of sensations . . .the blissful, orgasmic kind.

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Oliver knew it was morning. He could tell the sun was up just on the other side of his eyelids. The light was causing a slight, stabbing pain between his brows. It was Sunday and he smelled…coffee?

He opened his eyes, the bedroom shifting into focus, and rolled over in the white sheets his arm reaching out. The other side of the bed was empty and he was still naked. He rubbed a hand over his face, letting himself wake up a little more before climbing out of bed. His eyes scanned the room and all he saw were his boxers. He grabbed them and pulled them on before opening the bedroom door.

The coffee smell grew stronger as he followed the trail of his clothes down the hall and through the living room to the kitchen. Tommy stood there with a cup in his hand. His friend wore a grin that was the equivalent of a high-five.

"Thank you," he said by way of good morning, "for making it into the guest bedroom last night and not my bedroom." He grabbed a black ceramic mug and slid it over the island counter in Oliver's direction. "Your girl started a pot before she ducked out of here. All I saw was this blonde mess of hair in a green dress running through the door as I came into the living room this morning."

Oliver poured himself some of the coffee. "So, I did have sex last night?"

"I assume," Tommy replied. "Though I don't have any concrete proof."

Oliver blinked, shaking his head. "I just-I've never had a girl run out on me before I woke up."

An amused grin spread across Tommy's face. "Feeling a little jilted are we?"

Oliver shook it off. "No, it's just-" just again, "Tommy that was the best sex I've ever had."

Tommy laughed. "Man, I think you're just saying that because you've been having sex with the same person for over a year. You know it's not a dry spell but I'm sure it can get boring."

Oliver set the cup down and put both hands on the counter, looking over at Tommy, who was leaning back against the stainless steel sink. "No, you don't understand. That was phenomenal sex."

"Even better than the Eriksson twins in '09? You didn't stop talking about that for a month."

Oliver's head tilted forward. "Eriksson twins who?"

He was being serious. Oliver had had a lot of sex in his young life. It hadn't been good when he was young and didn't know what the hell he was doing, but it had definitely moved up to great by the time he hit his twenties. Great sex was always on the menu. He'd done just about everything and anything a girl threw at him or asked for. But last night and that girl. . .he was floored. There weren't words. It had been white hot, every single second of it, from the moment he'd put her on the back of bike and rode off from Verdant to Tommy's apartment.

His friend nodded, impressed, and took a sip of his coffee. "And she makes good coffee," he remarked. "So, this was supposed to be rebound sex, which by rules is supposed to be a one night stand but...if it was that good I say it's worth a second hook up. Specifically for scientific purposes," Tommy held up a finger. "You were very drunk last night my friend so your judgment on the issue could be a little impaired."

Oliver's shoulders sank as he realized he hadn't gotten her number. He hadn't even gotten her name.

Tommy wasn't any help in that department. "Seriously man, she was bolting out the door when I came around the corner. I didn't even have the chance to say anything to her."

Oliver frowned. It was mind-blowing sex, but maybe Tommy was right. Maybe he was just out of practice because he'd been sleeping with only Laurel for so long. That sex was routine. He knew what Laurel liked. He knew how to get her off quickly or slowly, and after a point she wasn't always up for trying new things.

"I think they call that marriage," Tommy had joked once.

Well, at least he'd had the rebound sex he needed. It was fantastic . . .at least the parts he could remember were fantastic. The edges were a little fuzzy. When his daydreams started to send his blood south, he decided it was time for a shower. He finished his coffee and went about gathering his clothes from the living room and the hall.

His thoughts moved to the fact that it was his last day of freedom.

"Thanks for letting me crash here," Oliver shouted back at Tommy.

"No problem," he called back. "Just like old times."

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"We're have you been?"

Felicity groaned, she still had residual headache from Saturday night. It was Monday now, and Sara voice was coming through the ear of cellphone as she drove to work.

"Dead," Felicity replied.

The drinking had murdered her. It was too much. Party Felicity was officially put to rest until the end of time. Maybe even after that. She set her phone down on the console and switched to the hands free feature that came with her car.

"Dead from too much sex?" Sara asked.

"Dead from too much drinking."

"So, tell me about the sex."

Even though Sara couldn't see it, Felicity rolled her eyes. "Do you have a one track mind?"

"Yes."

Felicity sighed, her thoughts rolling back to pre-hangover, and the cap to her Saturday night. The guy. She hadn't gotten his name. Blue eyes, short hair, just a tiny bit of scruff and a smile that made her knees jiggle. It had been amazing. The best sex ever. Not that she had had a lot of sex in her years, but it was the best so far. She had a feeling it would fill the void in many lonely nights to come.

"Did you get his name?"

"No," Felicity said. "But I doubt it would matter. A guy like that would not be interested in me. Remember . . . speaking the same language? He liked Party Felicity. Not Regular Felicity."

"I think I remember a conversation like that," Sara said. Her mouth sounded full, like she was in the middle of breakfast. Felicity was surprised that Sara was even awake so early in the day, but thought it might have something to do with her sister, who she was now living with. "So, you won't see him again. C'est la vie."

"C'est la vie," Felicity repeated.

Sara let her off the hook for the moment on the dirty details, though Felicity knew they were coming later. Instead she switched to talking about her sister. Felicity had only met Laurel a few times when she had come to Central to visit her mother. Sara and Laurel weren't very close, they had mostly kept in touch via phone or email as they grew up. It was a weird family dynamic, but Felicity wasn't one to judge. She didn't have a sister so she wasn't really sure how they worked.

When Felicity had told Sara about the job she'd been offered in Starling City and that she was moving, Sara decided to go with her. She'd decided that maybe it would be good to develop a better relationship with her dad and her older sister.

"I'm having lunch with her today," Sara was telling her. "She's been upset all weekend. She just broke up with her boyfriend."

"Oh, that sucks," Felicity lamented.

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "I've never met him but they were together for like a year." They talked for a few more minutes and then Felicity was pulling into the garage of her work building. Sara made her promise to call her later and let her know how her first day at Queen Consolidated went. "And then you are giving me a play by play of your night with best-sex-ever. I want dirty details. Very dirty."

Felicity grabbed her phone and dropped it into her bag then stepped out of the car, checking her reflection in the glass. She had done a complete one-eighty from her outfit on Saturday night. Her glasses were back and her curly hair was pulled into a smart, sleek ponytail. She wore a sensible pink blouse and a gray pencil skirt with ballet flats instead of heels. No one would recognize her from the way she had been dressed at the club on Saturday night. Sara was always impressed at the way she managed to look like two completely different people when she dressed up.

Felicity liked colors and fun accessories, but she was saving her Panda flats for another day. She tried to maintain her own style while still looking professional and she knew the day would be tough. There was the usual first day tasks of getting acclimated to the environment, remembering names, and learning how things were done, but there was also the added pressure of being a female tech person. Felicity was no stranger to sexism when it came to her field. It was annoying constantly having to prove herself.

She walked through the employee garage and headed to the lobby, stopping by the security desk. The security guard at the desk gave her a temporary pass into the building until she made it to the HR office to obtain her official one.

Dozens of employees were moving through the turnstiles, scanning their ID badges and flowing into the open elevators. She had never worked in such a large company before. Felicity had done some work at a few Internet start-ups throughout school and an internship at a marketing company, but none of those places had boasted more than twenty employees. Now she was a part of a well-oiled machine that employed hundreds across the country and overseas.

As she stepped into the elevator with a few other employees, she pulled her phone out again and scrolled through her notes. She was meeting first with Walter Steele, who was President of Queen Consolidated. He was the one who had hired her from M.I.T. She'd met him a couple of times. He was nice, for a man who worked in a very high position in a very prestigious company. It was probably the British accent that made him feel a little more comfortable.

She reminded herself of the floor that he was on and when the elevator stopped at the number she excused herself through the small crowd and stepped off.

The executive floor was a bit more opulent than where she would be working, she imagined. The offices were glass and the morning sunlight shone through in ethereal beams that made her think she had stepped off the elevator into the business lobby of heaven. Another receptionist behind another large desk called her attention.

"Hi," Felicity said pushing up her glasses. "I'm here to meet with Walter Steele."

The woman, who was about her age, smiled and then picked up her phone, calling to Walter's assistant and letting him or her know that his nine o'clock had arrived. "He'll be with you in a moment. Would you like anything while you are waiting?"

Felicity smiled. "A coffee would be great, if you have it."

The receptionist smiled back again. She was all polite smiles, her eyelids blinking just a little too much. "The executive break room is just down the hall, to the right. They won't mind you in here. Most of them are in the conference room already."

"Right," Felicity replied, but the receptionist had already focused her attention back on her computer. Felicity spun on her heels and headed in the direction she was pointed, finding the executive break room. Again, she thought, it was probably nicer than what she would become accustomed too down in the IT department.

She set her bag down on the table and headed toward one of the many expensive coffee machines. At least she would be drinking the good stuff that morning. She grabbed a dark roast K-cup and popped it into the machine, taking a white paper cup, and putting it in place before pushing the button to start the brew.

As the percolator rumbled she leaned forward onto her elbows. She was tired. The drinking and the partying really had taken a lot out of her. Not to mention that in between being sick as a dog on Sunday, she was still unpacking and settling into her new apartment.

A large yawn escaped her throat, a little too loud, and she didn't hear the man come in behind her.

"Hi."

She shot up and whirled around, grasping the back of the counter, as her other hand flew to her chest.

"Geez, you scared me-" she started then stopped. Her eyes followed a pair of grey pressed pants, up to a white button down shirt, covered in a grey suit jacket, and a pair of familiar blue eyes. "Oh, wow."

She was staring up into the eyes of the best sex ever.

"Wow," she repeated, for lack of anything better to say.

The guy was grinning at her, his lip curve up just slightly, a come hither tease. Did sex gods just always wear that smile?

"Felicity." Walter Steele's British accent interrupted her shock and she blinked, focusing on him as he walked through the door behind mystery man. "The receptionist said you would be in here."

"Yes," she replied, wondering how words were happening at that moment. Mystery man had stepped back to let Mr. Steele approach her. "I was just getting some coffee."

"That's perfectly alright," he said with a warm smile. "I see you've met Oliver."

Mystery man smiled at her, extending his hand. "Oliver Queen."

Felicity felt her heart stop one more time. Best sex ever had a name after all and his name was-

"Oliver Queen," she gulped, her finger pointing up to the ceiling. "As in the name that's on the building that we're in right now. Mr. Queen."

"No, Mr. Queen is my father," Oliver chuckled as she shook his hand. It was limp and robotic. Her mind went to where his hands had been the other night and she quickly took her hand back.

"Mr. Queen is your father." She repeated the words slowly. They probably thought she was dumb. So much for showing how intelligent and capable she was in front of the man who had hired her. She couldn't believe this was happening. She had slept with the boss' son. She was a walking cliché. "Triple wow."

Probably should mention that everything is unbeated, so apologies for horrible grammar and writing mistakes. Hopefully it won't deter any of you too much.

On to the next chapter...

all new stuff!