Christy's never won the lotto. But as the new owner of a crisply printed degree in Political Science from Star City University, immediately getting an internship in the mayor's office feels very much like hitting the jackpot.

So what if she's mostly grabbing coffee and answering phones? It's experience in her field and it actually pays and wow is that a miracle in this economy. All of her friends are exceedingly jealous of the fact that she got a paying internship alone, nevermind the fact that it's in newly-single, absurdly attractive Mayor Abs-a-lot's office.

Honestly. The television doesn't do the man justice. Her vote had solidly been in Oliver Queen's column, anyhow, even as a write-in candidate. But now? Hello Mr. Mayor.

She's had more former classmates meet her for coffee at work than they ever did for study dates in school. And if they're there mostly to try and sneak a peek at Oliver Queen in a god-damned three-piece suit… well, she can't really blame them for that, can she?

But, anyhow, ridiculously good looking boss or not, Christy's a professional. She's good at her job and she only indulges in checking him out when she's absolutely certain he's involved in something else and won't notice.

Probably.

Most of the time.

Unsurprisingly, Christy loves her job. She's wanted to work in politics since she was six and watched her parents get their citizenships. Most of her friends grew up wanting to be teachers or singers, but not Christy. No, she grew up wanting to be Governor. She wanted to represent her country and make a difference. She still does. So having a chance to play even the smallest part in doing that - and for a Mayor whose policies she actually supports, no less - that's everything.

It's completely more important than the eye candy that walks past her desk several times a day.

"He's probably a sleezebag," Priya had said when they'd all met up for drinks and she'd told her college friends where she'd be working. "After all, there had to be some reason he dropped out of the race when he was winning."

"Sex scandal for sure," Mitch had declared. "He drops out and then his fiancee leaves him a week later? Come on. We all know what that means."

"His family was totally the Kennedys in the first place. And it's not like he doesn't have the reputation," Erica had chimed in.

And… okay, she'd sort of assumed they were right. Because why else would someone who was clearly winning an election drop out? Sex or drugs, right? He doesn't seem the druggie-type to her and he does seem… well… the sex-type, if she's being honest. So, yeah, she'd figured they were right and had been full on debating whether or not she'd be willing to play the part of one of those interns - not, she'd decided after some seriously difficult soul searching - but then nothing was at all like she expected.

For one thing, Mayor Queen is super professional. With everyone. All the time. And he's in the office a lot. There's days she's sort of wondered if he slept there because he's there when she gets in and he's there when she leaves and, though he's changed, he definitely doesn't look rested. But, she figures maybe he's just a workaholic. Maybe that's why he and his fiancee broke up.

But that's the other weird thing. His ex-fiancee.

So, Christy's got three ex-boyfriends, right? Two of them she's blocked on FaceBook and cut their faces out of pictures. While the other one ended on 'friendly terms,' that only equates to forced smiles at group gatherings where they share mutual friends. She is absolutely not visiting Ian at work. Not ever. Not for anything. And definitely not on a semi-regular basis. In her admittedly-limited-experience, that's just not a thing you do with an ex you were serious about. And she can't imagine that being different for anyone. So Felicity Smoak - who she had been like 95% certain her boss had cheated on - visiting Mayor Queen at work at least twice a week is a thing she utterly cannot understand.

And trust her… she's tried.

The very first time Ms. Smoak had showed up, Christy had recognized her on sight. Because, yeah, she's a recent Poli Sci graduate and the whole Olicity thing was sort of buzz-worthy to the point where she wrote a paper about it last year.

Which is not a thing her boss needs to know about. Ever.

But, anyhow, Felicity Smoak had showed up and Christy had been steeling herself to show the woman the door the moment the mayor had said he wouldn't see her. Because who would? Oliver Queen, apparently, because her assumption hadn't held up. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

It'd sort of been the opposite.

Mayor Queen had stood up and straightened his immaculate three-piece suit - as if it'd needed that - and looked as nervous as a teenager about to ask a girl to the prom. And, damn if that wasn't the moment Christy realized she was going to be ridiculously protective of her mayor. Next time she'd had drinks with the friends from school they'd totally gotten an earful because Mayor Queen is the best politician ever and honest and not at all a sleezebag and saying otherwise is like kicking an actual puppy and the most unamerican thing ever and how dare they?

But, yeah. Felicity Smoak.

They're not really broken up.

That's what Christy decides by the end of her first month, anyhow. How can they be? His focus only drifts from work when she's around. He only really smiles when she's there. He'll drop anything for her - up to and including a call from the Governor. So for some reason they have a secret romance. Is it the craziness of the press and the fact that they have an actual name-squish ship-name that routinely trends? Is it the pressures of her career, trying to win back a company once run by not one, but two of her ex-boyfriends? Is it some crazy former flame blackmailing one of them with nudes to stay apart? Is it just stupidly hot for them to keep it a hidden? Christy doesn't know, but what she does know is that they are absolutely not broken up. She's certain of it. Absolutely drop-dead certain.

But that doesn't make it easier to figure out what to call her.

This week, Margie, the sixty-something secretary whose hair is more purple than red and whose desk is covered with photos of every cat she ever owned, is on vacation. Christy's glad for a lot of reasons, which include but are not limited to not having to hear about Mister Fluffington's latest adventures with a laser pointer. But the biggest reason is that she gets to fill in. She gets actual responsibility over the mayor's calendar and that's… that's awesome and a responsibility she both loves and will absolutely include on her resume.

But then Felicity Smoak walks in and Christy freezes.

She knew, she knew this would happen. They don't have a standing date - that she can tell, anyhow - but it's more regular than not these days and she knew this would happen.

"Oh, Margie's… I forgot she's on vacation. It's Christy right? Is it Christy or Chrissy? Ugh, you'd think I'd get that right. I'm sorry. I totally don't mean to offend you. Are you offended? Please don't be offended?" Ms. Smoak asks in a rather impressive display of social anxiety that completely throws Christy on account of she's an intern and this is - she's pretty sure - her boss' girlfriend.

Or maybe fiancee. She's not exactly sure.

"It's Christy," she replies with a slight shrug. "But it's fine. I don't expect you to remember me. I'm just an assistant."

Something about that thoroughly unsettles the soon-to-be-reappointed CEO - if the scuttlebutt is right anyhow - and Ms. Smoak pauses, collecting her words before she speaks again in a far more composed manner.

"There's nothing 'just' about an assistant, Christy," she advises with an intensity that sort of shakes the 22-year-old and reminds her thoroughly that this woman once ran a billion dollar company. "Believe me, I'm well aware of exactly how much Oliver relies on his assistants."

Oh… that's right… she would know all about that, wouldn't she?

"Um, well… thanks," Christy replies, flushing a bit, both at the praise and her own embarrassment. "I appreciate that. I'll just… go assist… see if he's free."

Ms. Smoak smiles brightly at that before she tamps it down and Christy thinks… well, she thinks the only other time she sees a smile like that is when she tells the mayor that Felicity Smoak is there. And, damn it if she isn't rooting for this whole Olicity thing. It kinda rocks getting a whole behind the scenes sneak peek at it all.

She returns Ms. Smoak's smile before getting up and heading back to the mayor's office. As usual, he's studying some papers intently, pen in hand and intense look of scrutiny on his face. There's this whole proposal on hiking parking rates in the business district that's completely absorbed his time lately and she knows he's very invested in the details of it and how it's going to affect local businesses, but wow… it's parking… and as much as she loves government, she's sorta bored just thinking about it.

"Christy," he greets, rubbing the space directly in between his eyebrows like he's trying to work out the wrinkle that's formed from furrowing his brow at the papers for so long. "Do I have a meeting?"

"Your, uh…" she flounders for a second. Because she knows what she calls Ms. Smoak in her head - 'your fiancee is here' or 'your girlfriend is here' flit through her mind - but she doesn't know what to actually call her. "Your person is here."

Right. As options go, that might be the worst.

He stops and blinks at her for a long moment, trying to process precisely what she's saying and somewhat failing in the endeavor.

"I think you're going to have to be a little more specific than that," he says slowly after a few beats.

"I don't know what to call her!" Christy blurts out suddenly. And - oh God - why can't she stop talking? "Your… she's your person. I don't have another word for it. Your former assistant? Your former fiancee? That awesome lady you're totally still madly in love with but don't publicly acknowledge any kind of relationship with? What do you call her?"

Oh. Dear. God.

She's gonna be fired. She's gonna be fired so hard that her next job - should she ever get one - might fire her before they hire her, as the firing from this job will carry over. Not that that actually makes sense, but it seems true and Christy absolutely feels the blood drain from her face as the mayor - the actual mayor - looks back at her in shock.

"Oh, I'm an idiot," she moans to herself.

To her absolute, eternal surprise, this is when the mayor starts laughing. And not like a nervous chuckle either. It's an actual full-on laugh the likes of which she's hadn't previously realized he was capable of. And when she dares to look up, he's grinning too.

If she's not fired, she's working for this man for life. Or until she's Governor. Whichever comes first. Because, dear God, she owes him at this point and anyone who can take that kind of outburst in stride deserves more loyalty than just her vote.

"My… person," he echoes, the edges of his eyes crinkling in a stupidly attractive way as he mulls the word. "I think I like that."

"Oh thank God," Christy sighs in relief.

"You can send her in," the mayor tells her and she nods, turning to leave as quickly as she possibly can. But he stops her. "And Christy?"

She pauses, looks back with wide eyes as she bites her lower lip so fiercely that it feels like she might draw blood.

"Margie's retiring at the end of the summer," he informs her. "I don't know if you have other plans after this internship, but if you'd consider staying on staff, I'd be happy to have you here."

Yeah… career lotto jackpot. Absolutely.