Cinematic Smoak

Chapter 1: Roman Holiday

A/N: Felicity Smoak is a persistent little thing, isn't she? Just won't get out of my head. So here I am, writing more about her when I really want to write other stuff. Oh, well. I've decided to let her have her way, for the time being anyway. This may become an extended series of one-shots, all based around movie prompts. They're all going to be decidedly Olicity, and in this one, I've decided I need to redeem Laurel. And open the door to fixing the giant, gaping horror that was what Oliver did to Felicity in Unthinkable. The bastard (and by that, I also mean whoever wrote that scene, because only a bastard would have had Oliver say "I love you. " No. Just...no. Good people know that would be unforgivable.). So, this is obviously set in my version of S3, after Barry Allen has become The Flash (and I presume Felicity knows about him). This first one is before (as I expect will happen) Laurel takes on the hot black leather of the Canary and before the stuff that the spoilers tell us is coming (oh, you official writers better not screw this up, or I will do something bad to you with numbers). We'll see where it all leads.

Summary: A series of Olicity one-shots, wherein Felicity experiences some classic movie moments in her own inimitable way.

Disclaimer: The only green that is mine is the envy I feel towards those who get to write this stuff for pay. I do not.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where I am?" a familiar voice called to Laurel as she started up the steps to her apartment.

"Felicity?" Laurel said, turning to see the blonde leaning strangely against a lamppost. "Are you all right?"

"Lovely Laurel Lance!" Felicity said, her face lighting up. "Oh, thank god! I had no idea where I was. You would not believe how hard it is to read street signs when you've been drugged. Glasses just do not help."

"Drugged!?" Laurel said, grabbing hold of her arm. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Gosh, where do I start?" Felicity said, slowly leaning into Laurel to the point that she was barely upright. "I mean—" she huffed a laugh, "—one day I'm sitting in my little office, minding my own business, and the next, I'm getting chased by psychopathic sword-wielding Australians and insane drug dealers and bomb-wielding burglars and mad scientists—"

"How about you start with tonight?" Laurel said, half-carrying her up the steps toward her apartment door.

"Oh, tonight," Felicity said, waving one hand dismissively. "Tonight was the mad scientist. I got zapped again, and let me tell you, it isn't fun. You know that scene in The Hangover, where they get zapped by the cop guy in front of all those kids? It's like that, only more painful. And less funny. Not that I really thought that scene was funny. I don't really get the thing with Zach Gali-whatheverthehellhis name is—Gallifrey? No, that's Doctor—"

"Felicity, I need you to focus," Laurel said, struggling to open the security door with one hand, and nearly losing Felicity in the process. "You got tased, right? Who tased you?"

"Don't know," Felicity said, and her words were starting to slur, and she was leaning even more heavily on Laurel. "Mad scientist. But I got his picture. On my tablet." She patted her purse. "I was badass. Sara would be proud of me. Bad. Ass." She nodded emphatically and almost pitched forward onto her face before Laurel caught her and managed to stabilize her.

"Okay, so a mad scientist tased you," Laurel said, guiding Felicity towards the elevator, which, blissfully, opened immediately once she pushed the button. "And then you were badass. Is that how you got away?" She got Felicity into the elevator and leaned her against the wall, but the moment she turned to press her floor button, Felicity began to slide down the wall. "No, no, no!" Laurel said, grabbing her. "You need to stay on your feet a little longer, Felicity."

"Floor…seems better," Felicity said, and her eyelids were drooping.

"Come on, talk to me," Laurel said, putting one hand to the side of her face and looking at her. "Open your eyes, Felicity. You were badass. How? I'll tell Sara all about it."

Felicity blinked. "I was in a chair. Zip ties. But zip tie me once, shame on you. Zip tie me twice, and I start carrying a little bitty knifey thing. Ha!" She shook her head. "But he'd already made me drink…whatever…mad scientist drug thing." She looked disgusted. "In peppermint schnapps. I hate peppermint schnapps. And he thought I was a pros…prosti…" She stopped, blinking again. Slowly.

"Prostitute?" Laurel prompted, and the elevator door opened onto her floor.

"Yes!" Felicity said, incensed. "Do I look like a…what you said?"

Laurel grabbed her arm and threw it over her shoulder, then started her out the door. "Actually, you could pass for one of the higher priced ones," she said.

"You mean it?" Felicity said, sounding touched.

"Only the highest end," Laurel said, smiling lopsidedly at her.

"That's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me," Felicity said, sounding like she might cry.

"That's a shame," Laurel said softly, breathing hard as they finally reached her apartment door. "So you cut the zip ties—"

"Yay, me!"

"Attagirl!" Laurel said, grinning. "But he'd given you something. Do you know what?"

"Mad scientist," Felicity said. "Who knows? Look at the tablet. I videoed everything. He said I'd forget, so I made sure something would remember. I hit him. In the nose. With my elbow. I definitely recommend the elbow. It doesn't hurt as much as using your fist. And it is so weird that I know these things."

Laurel somehow managed to get her into the apartment in a tangle of arms and legs, and maneuvered her over to the couch. She sprawled across the couch and closed her eyes. "Felicity, I need you to stay awake," Laurel said, grabbing for her phone. "Stay with me, okay? I'm calling Oliver."

"Oh, no!" Felicity said, her eyes shooting open. "No, no, no, no, no!" She struggled to sit up, waving her arms at Laurel. "You can't call Oliver!"

"Why not?" Laurel said, frowning.

"I'll be fine," Felicity said. "Mad scientist guy said so."

"And you believe everything a mad scientist tells you," Laurel said dryly.

"Huh? Oh. No…no, but part of what he said is very, very true. He said I'd be…that it'd make me…kind of…okay, remember how I said it was a date rape drug?"

"You never said that," Laurel said, confused.

"I didn't?" Felicity said, her forehead crinkling. "I'd have sworn…or was that on the tablet? I told the tablet. Right. So, mad scientist said it was a date rape drug he was dev…devel…making. And…he added a little something to…well, it makes you all…I mean, I feel really, really…oh, god, this is humiliating."

Laurel felt her eyebrows climbing.

"Yes, that, exactly," Felicity said, sounding both relieved and mortified. "So if you call Oliver, then he'll show up all grr and buff in those tight leather pants, and I'll say something, you know I will, 'cause I say stupid stuff even when I'm not on mad scientist sexy drugs, and whatever he gave me is really, really, really…" She trailed off, looking distressed.

"Felicity—" Laurel began.

"And even if I don't go all sexy-sexy on him, I'm scared he'll tell me I have to stop helping him," Felicity said, almost in tears. "He gets so worried, especially since Slade, and if he tells me I can't do this anymore, I don't know what I'd do. Please don't call him," she said in a very small voice.

Laurel sighed. "Okay, I won't call Oliver," she said finally. "But I need to—"

"No, no, lemme finish telling you what happened," Felicity cut in, but it was clear she was fading. "He said I'd forget everything, and if we're going to pros…pros…prostitute…" She frowned. "That isn't right."

She has a point, Laurel thought. But they also needed to know what was in her system. She wasn't about to risk Felicity's life just to guarantee a prosecution. "I'm calling an ambulance." She started to dial 911. "You can tell me everything while we wait for them, okay?"

"No!" Felicity said. "Oliver's my emergency contact!"

"But we don't know what he gave you!" Laurel protested.

"Yes, we do," Felicity said, and fumbled for her purse. "See?" She pulled out a small bottle. "I took it from mad scientist guy. So we have it. You can take it to somebody, right? And I can stay here. On your nice…comfy couch. This couch is really comfy. Where did you get it? Definitely not Ikea."

"Who am I going to take it to at…" Laurel glanced at her clock. "…at midnight on a Friday night?"

"Ooo! I know!" Felicity said. "Call Barry!" She reached into her purse again, rooting around for something.

"Who?"

"My phone," Felicity said, pulling it out and waving it at her. "Barry Allen. He can help, fast. Really fast. Super fast." She stopped waving it and punched in her security code.

Laurel frowned. "I don't know, Felicity."

"Jus' call him," Felicity slurred. "Even if you went to Oliver, he'd just have to call Barry. He's a…science guy. So we're just cutting out the hot, green middleman."

Laurel hesitated, then decided it was worth a shot. Barry picked up on the second ring. "Felicity? What's wrong?"

"Um, this isn't Felicity. It's Laurel Lance," she began.

"Where's Felicity? What happened?" Barry said, his voice rising.

"Just listen," Laurel said. "She got drugged, but I'm not sure what with. I have a sample here, but she doesn't want to go to the hospital, and she said you could—"

"I can. I'll be right there," Barry said. "Where are you?"

Laurel gave him her address.

"In Starling City?" he asked.

"Yes," Laurel said, blinking in surprise. "Where are you?"

"Never mind," he said. "I'll be there in…a few minutes." He hung up abruptly.

Laurel stared at the phone for a moment, then turned back to Felicity, starting the phone's video app. "Okay, Felicity, I need you to tell me what happened."

Felicity was out cold. Laurel dove forward, feeling for a pulse, and let out a sigh of relief when she found it, strong and steady.

Now what? she thought. She turned to Felicity's purse, and opened it, pulled out the tablet, and found the video.

"Oh, shoot, which way's the camera?" Felicity's voice said as the picture showed what was obviously a hotel room. The picture jumped around wildly for a moment, then Felicity's face appeared. "Oh! There you are." She paused, looking a little dazed. "Right. Hi! So…um…okay, I need to do this fast, because he's going to wake up soon. So this guy—" The camera panned down to show a man lying on his back on the floor unconscious, his nose a bloody mess. "—stopped me outside of Verdant earlier tonight. He thought I was a prostitute—me, a prostitute! Do you know how much this dress cost!?—and when I told him I wasn't, he got really nervous. Next thing I knew, he'd hit me with a taser, and threw me in his car. He brought me here, wherever here is, then tied me to a chair and made me drink a shot of peppermint schnapps he'd put this into." She held up a bottle. She wrinkled her nose. "Peppermint schnapps. Gahhhhh!" She swallowed hard. "He said it was his new date rape drug, and he needed to test it, and I got lucky." She frowned. "Not like that. I meant lucky ironically, not literally. No, that would still be figurative. Euphemistically. That's what I mean. I mean, not what I mean. Ironic, not euphemistic. Anyway, I put the smackdown on him before he could…do anything more than feel me—" She swallowed hard again. "Oh, I think I'm gonna yak." She didn't say anything else for a long moment. "Ohhhhkay, I'm putting the bottle of whatever it was he used in...in my purse." She blinked several times. "Oh, this isn't good. I'm really looooopy... So…where was I? Oh, I managed to get free and did that—" she gestured at the man, "—to him. I hit him with a chair. Yes, I am that awesome. Here, get a good look at him." She turned the camera back to the guy, and left it there for a long moment, though it wobbled a lot. "That should be enough for facial…facial…"

Felicity trailed off, and the camera tilted down toward the floor. Several seconds later, the camera turned back, and Felicity's face came into view again. Her pupils were dilated so big Laurel could barely see a hint of blue. She took a deep breath. "I think…" She blinked again. "I need to go home." The video ended abruptly.

There was a sharp knock on her door, and Laurel jumped. She went and looked through the peephole, and saw a young man with light brown hair which looked really windblown. "Who is it?" she called.

"Barry Allen," he said.

She opened the door, and he burst through. "Where is she?"

Laurel pointed to the living room, and he ran in and knelt next to Felicity, who stirred slightly when he touched her hair, but then subsided back into sleep.

"Here's what she was given," Laurel said, holding out the bottle to him. "And she recorded this." She showed him the video, and he looked angry.

"Where is this guy?" he growled.

"I don't know. I don't think the hotel could be far from here. I found Felicity out in front of my apartment, and she couldn't have walked far in that state," Laurel said.

Barry looked for a moment like he was about to run out, and Laurel grabbed his arm. "Look, getting the guy has to wait. We need to know what he gave her."

Barry sighed, then nodded. "Okay, look, I can figure that part out, but we need to go after that guy. We can't just let him get away." He frowned at her. "Wait, why did you call me? She works with the Arrow!"

Laurel grimaced. "Felicity didn't want me to call him," she said. "Long story."

"Well, call him now," Barry said harshly. "I don't care what she said. Tell him I'll be in touch once I know what we're dealing with." He stood up and started for the door. "This won't take me very long."

Laurel reached for her phone, and when she turned back, he was already gone. She went over to check on Felicity, then dialed Oliver's number, hoping that neither of them would be as angry with her as she expected them to be.

That was too much to hope for, at least as far as Oliver was concerned. "Why the hell didn't you call me sooner?" he exploded when she let him in ten minutes later. "How is she?"

"She seems okay," Laurel said. "She's been asleep since Barry got here." She pulled up the video on the tablet again. "He wanted you to go after the guy who did this to her."

"I'm not going anywhere till I know she's safe," Oliver said. "Wait-Barry? You called Barry Allen before you called me!?" he snapped, kneeling next to Felicity. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from her face, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Oliver?" she murmured. "Wha' happened?" She frowned. "Why'm I so woozy? Oh, wow. I don't know how I got here. " She looked around vaguely. "I don't even know where here is. This is just like Roman Holiday. Only I don't feel so happy. And you're better looking than Gregory Peck. Actually, Eddie Albert was better looking than Gregory Peck. He was so adorable with that beard. Who knew a goatee would make such a difference? I mean, Eddie Albert. If a goatee can make him cute…" She stopped, studying Oliver's face intently. "I wonder how you'd look with a goatee. Oh, my god, I bet you'd be unbeliev—"

"Felicity!" Laurel cut in, trying to spare her any more embarrassment. "Can I get you something? How about some coffee?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Oliver said. "We don't know what she's had."

"What do you mean what I've had?" Felicity said. She wrinkled her nose. "Why does my mouth taste so awful?" Her eyes widened. "Did you get me drunk? On peppermint schnapps?!"

"No," Laurel said quickly. "No, it wasn't Oliver's fault—"

Felicity's eyes widened even farther as she looked over at Laurel. "But you're in AA! Please don't tell me I made you fall off the wagon!"

"It's okay, Felicity," Laurel said, smiling. "Nobody got drunk tonight."

Felicity looked unconvinced. "My mouth tastes like peppermint schnapps. I'd know that taste anywhere." She blinked. "Wow. I'm really drunk." She looked intently at Oliver again. "You have such pretty eyes." Her eyes flickered down to his lips, and Laurel grabbed Oliver and pulled him away.

"What the—Laurel, what are you doing?" Oliver protested, regaining his balance.

"You really need to go find the mad scientist, right now," Laurel said.

"I'm not leaving her," Oliver said stubbornly.

"I'm not asking," Laurel said, keeping her voice low. "I'm telling you. She made that recording so you could get him. You owe her that. I'll take care of her. I promise."

"Laurel," he began, but she cut him off.

"No, Oliver, I mean it," she said. "I can't let you stay here. She's not in control of her actions right now, and you being here is a very bad idea."

Oliver frowned, then looked like the light had dawned. "Oh," he said, and his eyes got very wide. "You mean—"

"Yes," Laurel whispered. "She'd be mortified if she…did anything. I'm not going to let that happen. She's been hurt enough."

Oliver's face darkened. "What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"What's with the grr face?" Felicity said. "And why are you over there? You should be over here. Come over here, sexy pants."

"Get the hell out of here," Laurel whispered to Oliver, handing him the tablet, then turned to stop Felicity from getting up.

"I did not mean you, Lovely Laurel Lance," Felicity said, glaring at her. "You are sexy, and you have pants. But you are not sexy pants." She blinked. "I didn't mean I find you sexy. I just meant, empirically, you are sexy in that you are clearly attractive to lots and lots of—"

"Please stop talking," Laurel said, blushing deeply. "Oliver, go find the guy on that video. He's got to be in a hotel near here."

"I...okay," Oliver said, glancing down at the tablet. "I'll, uh, come back later."

"Much later, " Laurel said insistently.

"But you just got here!" Felicity said plaintively. "I want sexy pants!"

"Ollie!" Laurel hissed, and Oliver beat a hasty retreat.

Felicity was glaring at her even more. "You made him leave. Why?"

"Go back to sleep, Felicity," Laurel said.

"You can't bogart all the sexy pants," Felicity said irritably. "I mean, seriously, I am not getting any, and you have had way more than your share!"

"You're absolutely right," Laurel said, patting her shoulder. "I promise, Oliver will be back very soon, and I won't get in your way, okay?"

Felicity's eyes narrowed. "You promise?"

"I swear," Laurel said. "You deserve to get sexy pants."

"I do," Felicity said emphatically. "I do deserve to get sexy pants." She leaned her head back onto the couch. "So why can't I?"

"I wish I knew," Laurel said. "And I really wish I could help." I really need to have a long, serious talk with Oliver Queen, she thought.

"You're nicer than I thought," Felicity said seriously. "I really thought I wouldn't like you. I tried not to, but you're so nice."

"Thank you," Laurel said, smiling. "I like you, too."

"I'm really drunk," Felicity said, "but I mean it. That's not just icky peppermint schnapps talking."

"I believe you," Laurel said. "Now, I think you need to get some sleep."

"I don't want to miss any sexy pants time," Felicity said.

"You won't. I'll wake you up as soon as Oliver gets back, okay?"

"'Kay," Felicity murmured. "You're the best."

"I wouldn't say that. You risked your life to save me and Starling City," Laurel said. "I think that makes you the best."

Felicity smiled faintly as her eyes slid shut again. "We're both awesome."