A/N: Hey Everyone! So, this was supposed to be my 2019 Christmas story. Well, the winter holidays came and went. Then, I thought I'd try to have it up by Valentine's Day. That didn't happen. While there are no holidays coming up any time soon that are featured in this story, I decided to post it anyway. We'll pretend. Plus, the sooner I get this posted, the sooner I can return to the other stories I have been working on, all of them continuations of previously posted fics and/or series. More on those soon! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this silly little ficlet.

Thanks,
Charlynn

That Holiday Magic
An Olicity Holiday Story

The Fourth of July - Prologue

Despite serving in the military, John Diggle wasn't one for celebrating the Fourth of July. He liked to think that he appreciated the country he fought for every day rather than just the single day marked to observe America's freedom and independence. Plus, after three tours in Afghanistan, John Diggle and fireworks did not mix well. As a former soldier herself, his wife not only understood his aversion to fireworks but also commiserated with him, and his kids were too young and too distracted by the pool the family had just put in their backyard to notice that their friends and neighbors did anything different on that particular summer day.

Instead, John usually holed himself up in his office, choosing to distract himself from barbeques and sparklers with prep work for the fall term. While school wouldn't start until after Labor Day, summer vacation didn't mean the same thing for an elementary school principal as it did his teachers and students. Plus, the building was air conditioned, and the halls were quiet, the perfect combination for productivity in Digg's estimation.

So, when there was an unexpected knock on his open office door, he would have been embarrassed to admit just how high he jumped, and he would have been astonished that all of the framed photos and knickknacks on the credenza behind his desk survived its collision with his large, leather chair if the nervous, hand wringing, blushing, and overly formal youthful woman standing before him wasn't too distracted to notice. She shuffled her feet, and she avoided his gaze. She cleared her throat several times, and her voice, when she finally spoke, came out strained and cracked. "Ah, Principle Diggle? Do you have a moment?"

"Miss Smoak... Felicity, of course," and he stood as well in greeting, ushering her into one of the chairs before him. But Felicity didn't sit; she paced. "What can I do for you," he asked casually, curious yet still comfortable with his surprise visitor. Just as teachers weren't supposed to have favorite students, principals shouldn't have favorite teachers, but Felicity Smoak was his, and John considered himself quite lucky to have her working under his employ at Starling Prep Elementary. She was brilliant, and warm, and inspiring. He didn't know much about her background but was aware that, nearly finished with her education, something tragic happened which derailed her life and her life plans. Whatever her loss, the unexpected career change was John Diggle's gain. But thinking about the fortuitous turn life had provided him and his school made him start to fear that his luck was up. "Oh god, you're not quitting, are you?"

"What, no!," Felicity gasped, quickly putting him at ease and, in her own shock, finally looking at him. The eye contact was short lived, however, and so, too, was her astonished stasis, her choppy steps being taken up once more moments later. "I just, you see, it's… well, I have a small favor to ask of you."

"Anything," he promised, retaking his seat and folding his hands confidently on the desk before him. And he meant it, because this was Felicity Smoak who was asking, and it was probably something simple and easy to give that only she would find a burden or worthy of her worry. Digg's guess was that she wanted to start the tradition of a class pet… seeing how taken she was with his son's puppy, a recent addition to their family and one of JJ's birthday gifts.

"I hate to ask this of you," Felicity told him, still unwilling to actually say what she wanted.

Again, Diggle tried to hearten and reassure her. "Felicity, it's you. It cannot be that bad."

"Yeah… but I always promised myself I wouldn't be that kind of teacher."

With that, he had to admit that he was starting to become a little less sure of his employee and a little more apprehensive of what she wanted to ask of him. But he refused to show her his unease, because then she'd never get to the point of her visit. Instead, he praised, "you are a credit to our profession."

If she heard him and his compliment, she didn't give any signs of believing it. Facing away from him, Felicity finally confessed her request, speaking in such a rush that Digg had to repeat her ask to himself several times before comprehension dawned. "I need you to make sure that William Queen is not assigned to my class."

Of all the things she might have wanted, William assigned to a different second grade teacher was the very last favor Diggle could have or would have predicted. William was a sweet, intelligent boy, and Felicity had never once expressed her preferences for or opinions against any student. She found a way to connect with all of her pupils, challenging those who were advanced and providing just the right blend of encouragement and extra help to those who struggled. Her test scores were superb, and John wasn't the only one who thought she was an amazing teacher; parents raved about her, too. So, when faced with her rapidly voiced request, all he could mutter in response was, "why?," noting the confusion and bewilderment in his own tone.

Diggle watched as Felicity spun around on her signature panda flats, his eyes widening in trepidation when he observed the pleading gaze she leveled at him. Hands now clasped before her in a prayer like gesture, Felicity confessed, "Oli… Mr. Queen, William's father, kind of has a reputation." If that was all, if Felicity had fallen down the rabbit hole that was Starling City gossip and came out on the other side fearing for her modesty and virtue, he could confidently guarantee that Oliver Queen was not that womanizing playboy anymore - hadn't been for quite some time, in fact. Before he could utter these reassurances, however, Felicity rushed forward, took the chair he had offered her several minutes before, and pressed onward with her plea, forgetting her earlier formality, "I can't handle all of his baking, Digg! This might be a private, top ranked school, but I'm a teacher. I cannot afford to buy a whole new wardrobe, because Oliver Queen can't resist stuffing me full!" John barely suppressed his laughter, and Felicity paused to rethink her words, burning scarlet as she added, " ... with his goodies." After another, shorter pause, she tacked on, "and you won't survive an entire school year of me saying inappropriate things. Why do all things cooking sound so dirty?"

He decided to leave the more dangerous aspects of her little speech alone and, instead, focus on something safer. "Since when do you care about your diet? Felicity, I know you. You subscribe to the same food pyramid as Buddy the Elf, and you have declared chocolate a vegetable, because it grows on a tree and, when raw, comes in the shape of a bean."

Grumbling, she said, "maybe I'm turning over a new leaf."

"Just as long as that leaf is not spinach or kale, I'm sure."

"Baby steps," she returned cheekily, rising back to her feet. "And the first step is to not have William Queen in my class this fall."

Feeling both amused and suddenly exhausted, Diggle sighed, leaning back in his chair to cross his arms behind his head. "Felicity, I offer you no promises. I can't make teacher assignment decisions based upon your lack of impulse control when it comes to your sweet tooth. I have to do what's best for the student… even if at the expense of your, well, expenses." When she went to protest, he held up a placating hand, "but I'll see what I can do."

"That's all I can ask," Felicity graciously accepted, nodding her head in acknowledgement and thanks. Knocking her thumb over her shoulder, she indicated his doorway and the outer-office and hallway beyond it. "While I'm here, I'm going to head down to my classroom, finalize some plans for the fall. I swear, this place has the best AC in Starling City."

"Why else do you think I'm here, Smoak?"

A young woman too smart for Digg's own good, Felicity Smoak knew exactly why he took refuge in Starling Prep Elementary School that day, but she had the grace and good will not to say anything. Why she was hiding out at work that Fourth of July, especially when the students wouldn't be back for two more full months, he wasn't sure. He had to admit to himself that he was curious, but Diggle showed her the same respect she showed him and didn't voice his interest. Instead, he returned her enthusiastic wave with a more sedate one of his own before going back to his work, unaware of the seed of suspicion planted in his mind that afternoon by his favorite employee.

oo

When his second visitor arrived, John was prepared for the interruption if not the interruptor. "Hey, Digg. Lyla said I could find you here."

Looking up and away from his computer screen, Diggle blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the soft office lighting. He smiled in welcome and at the mention of his wife. Lyla Michaels Diggle was far from the traditional wife and mother - one of the many things he appreciated about her, but she found her own, unique ways of taking care of her family. Sending Oliver Queen to him to make sure that he ate lunch was just such a way. It also explained how Oliver would have been able to get into the otherwise locked school, Lyla having given him her spare set of keys.

Circling his arms overhead, John stretched his tight back and shoulders, his large frame always growing tense after sitting hours at his desk. "Some food sounds fantastic right about now."

Only… Oliver's hands were empty, and a frown took over and dropped the previously pleasant lines of the other man's face at the sound of Digg's remark. "Uh, I didn't bring you anything to eat," Oliver said apologetically. Having met Oliver through the cafe he owned just down the street from Starling Prep Elementary, it was difficult for most, Diggle included, to separate the man from his business. Even after Oliver's son became one of Digg's students, Oliver still remained the guy who kept him caffeinated and in snacks. "I should have thought of that, though," Oliver lamented, pulling Digg back from his musings. "Everyone knows that favors always sit better on a full stomach."

The younger man wasn't wrong, but his sincerity and downbeat expression made John want to bolster his nerve. Given that Diggle had already been asked for one favor that day… and it involved Oliver, he had to admit to himself that his curiosity was piqued. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Oliver wanted from him, but he wouldn't be able to satisfy his interest or prove his instincts correct if he didn't settle Oliver's anxiety first. "Ah, but then that would be considered a bribe. While I might not answer to the public, we private school principals have our ethics, too."

At that, Oliver finally entered the office, taking a seat across from Diggle and, with an ironic twist of his lips, argued, "not the ones in charge when I was a student here."

That's right. Digg had heard the stories of the infamous Queen family donations and the equally infamous son those donations were issued for in order to help pass him along in his academic career. "Well, as a father to as studious and as well behaved of a boy as William, I'm sure you can appreciate my approach to school administration."

Oliver cleared his throat, fidgeting in his chair like he couldn't find a comfortable position. "Speaking of William, he's why I'm here."

"I assumed as much."

Still not getting straight to the point, Oliver hedged, "I was wondering if you'd started working on class lists for the fall yet."

"I haven't, but, you know, they've been on my mind today." It took every ounce of restraint Diggle possessed not to grin widely at the younger man across from him.

"Because, if you were already finished with them, I wouldn't ask, but…"

"... but, since I'm not," John interrupted, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest. The pose was meant to look cunning, but, really, he was just trying to contain his amusement. "You'd like to request a specific class assignment for William."

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," Oliver began… only to backtrack, holding up a hand to ward off what he must have believed to be Digg's suspicions regarding his preference. "It's not that I've heard anything bad about one of your teachers. Quite the opposite, in fact. And William loves school so much. He's so smart, and dedicated to his studies… even at seven years old. I was never like that, and I can barely keep up with him now, and he's only going into the second grade. But what I can do is make sure that he has the very best opportunities and the very best education. From what I've heard, that's Miss Smoak."

"Felicity is quite intelligent," Diggle agreed, still not giving away the game… or his opinion on the matter. And he certainly wouldn't break Felicity's confidences and tell Oliver that the very teacher he was requesting for his son had, just that same day, asked that William not be placed in her class… not because of any fault of William's but because of William's father, Oliver himself.

"A genius," Oliver offered.

"And she's really good with kids," Digg continued to compliment, wondering just how much Oliver knew about Miss Smoak and how much of that knowledge he'd be willing to admit in order to secure his son a position in her class.

"The best." Before John could even smirk at the praise Oliver bestowed upon Felicity, the younger man pressed onward, "and her specialties are math and the sciences, right, because that's what really interests William. So, I thought she would be the right person to both challenge and inspire him. After all, we both know that I definitely can't do either."

Of all the things Oliver had said to him that afternoon, his own lack of confidence and self-esteem might have been the most telling. While Diggle frowned at the father sitting across from him, he didn't comment or try to bolster Oliver's opinion of himself. Yes, he knew him outside of work and beyond his role as William's principal, but they weren't exactly best friends either. They shared greetings and cordial, passing comments at the cafe, and Oliver knew where he lived because he also knew Lyla, and she often ordered food to be delivered to their home, but Digg certainly didn't feel comfortable giving Oliver parenting advice or a pep talk. However, what he could give him was the peace of mind that, learned himself or not, he had done right by his son's educational needs. "I think William will flourish under Miss Smoak's tutelage." Holding his right hand out across his desk, John offered it to Oliver. As they shook, he said, "consider your favor granted."

"Thanks a lot, Digg," Oliver expressed his gratitude as he stood up, preparing to leave. "I really appreciate this. And I promise not to make a habit of it either."

"If there's one thing you can in good conscious make a habit of, it's being a good father, Oliver. There's nothing wrong with wanting the best for your son." Even if Oliver wanting what was best for William put Diggle in an awkward position with his favorite employee.

He just had to hope that, once Felicity had William in her class and realized for herself that she was the best fit for the precocious seven year old, she'd understand why John granted Oliver's favor and not hers. Besides, he had faith that, by the time school started back up again in September, Felicity would have long forgotten her attempt to avoid sweets and eat healthy… if that was really even her true motivation for avoiding Oliver's baked goods.

While he couldn't quite put his finger on it, Diggle suspected that both Oliver and Felicity were keeping something from him. So, if neither adult was ready to be completely honest and upfront, then he would do the best thing for the child. Growing up, he'd never imagined his future to be in education or administration, but he was a damn good principal… if he did say so himself, finding a perfect balance between structure and care, and, as a good principal, it didn't matter why Felicity was suddenly claiming an aversion to sweets or why Oliver knew so much about and had such a high opinion of Miss Smoak, the second grade teacher; what mattered was William and what was best for him.

Pausing by the open door, Oliver turned back long enough to say, "thanks again, Digg… for everything. The next time you're in the cafe, drinks and muffins are on me - not as a bribe but as a thank you." Before Digg could respond, Oliver tossed him the keys to the school that he had borrowed from Lyla, Diggle grabbing them right out of the air.

"I'll take you up on that offer." Thank yous, especially of the food variety, his ethics not only allowed but appreciated. "See you around, Oliver."

"Happy Fourth of July, Diggle."

And, working or not, it kind of was just that.