15258/A Brand New Start of It

A Brand New Start of It
Date of Scene:	29 June 2023
Location:	Penthouse, New York City
Synopsis:	Oliver and Felicity settle into their new temporary home in NYC, surprising each other with their thoughtfulness in the process.
Cast of Characters:	Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen

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Felicity Smoak has posed:
Three days early was good.

Oliver, Felicity, and the rest of Team Arrow already had a plan to move some of their equipment and tech to New York in order to set up a temporary base of operations near the new high-rise Queen Consolidated had just finished purchasing. Unfortunately, said high-rise turned out to be in a worse neighborhood than originally anticipated, and it was going to take The Green Arrow to clean it up if they wanted the residents to be safe.

With Felicity getting more and more agitated over being temporarily kidnapped by some mystical force she didn't understand, Oliver had agreed to take her to New York three days early and spend some time with her. She needed it -- the mental break from running thousands of samples on the one piece of evidence she actually had, comparing traces of everything from fibers to dust against every substance known to man, looking for anything that would help her. It was keeping her up at night, and after accusing Oliver of drugging her, even she was ready to acknowledge that she had become obsessed.

John Diggle had been a fantastic help getting things ready to move the last few days. What they all agreed they would need, from suits to bows to workstations to microscopes were all packed carefully into crates. John was bringing the weapons later, but the tech crates were loaded into Oliver's private plane so Felicity could keep an eye on them and set up her new command center as soon as possible. Granted, wasn't /exactly/ the point, but Felicity never knew when she'd need her Cobalt-encrypted workstation to run an encrypted cell triangulation on a phone number she got from an FBI database or hack into the city's building department to get plans for a structure so that she could overlay the satellite footage and know where the security cameras were facing. There was only so much she could do from her phone or her tablet, after all.

So, despite looking forward to having the time to spend with Oliver in a new city, it was Felicity that was busy basically immediately after they landed. A box truck had come for the crates, and the town car that picked Oliver and Felicity up from the hangar followed it to the penthouse (which was, thankfully, available a few days early). Once they were brought upstairs, she spent the next few hours setting them all up, and soon one whole corner of the penthouse had become a mobile crime analysis center. She lacked all but the most basic forensic tools -- she could scan a fingerprint and take video with a digital microscope -- but she had to leave the mass spectrometer and blood testing equipment back in the Arrowcave. Still, she had four monitors mounted to the desk and enough bandwidth for her purposes, thanks to Oliver's careful planning.

Just before eleven in the morning, Felicity left to 'run an errand.' It was cryptic, but she seemed like she was in a hurry and it would be quick. Two hours later, she was back.. errand presumably complete. Of course, she always shared her phone's GPS tracking information with Oliver, and if he checked on her location? Queens. Some random, residential address. The street view shows a house with a garage and an apartment over it. Her exact location? In the garage. Or maybe in the apartment. If he called the the town car's driver, he would confirm their address and tell Oliver that Felicity gave instructions to call him if anything "weird or dangerous" happened (her words).

Now, Felicity is just getting back. It's shortly after noon, and she's wearing a royal blue sheath dress with a peep-hole cut out and hot pink, Mary Jane pumps -- one of her standard work uniforms, rather than something that might be more comfortable to explore a city as a couple in.

"Hey. I'm back," she calls once she's in the door of the penthouse, closing it behind herself. "I'm sorry. That took longer than expected. I need to change, and then we can go... wherever you want."

Oliver Queen has posed:
Who knew that a quick getaway to New York would be such a massive undertaking, right?

In fairness, no trip with them is exactly the conventional weekend getaway. Even at the best of times. And making plans to temporarily relocate cities is something considerably bigger then an impromptu mission away, even moreso when they are essentially changes Coasts for what is likely to be a few weeks at the minimum. Still, it's not that hard to forget just what a sheer undertaking it all is.

All of which is to say that when Oliver suggested that they get away a little early, that they head to New York and take some time for themselves it was with the best of intentions. Really, it was. But every decision has consequences. And this particular one means that a whole lot of preparation has to be crammed into a very compressed time period. Hardly the end of the world of course. It's not like they aren't all used to working under soem fairly high pressure deadlines. While easing back on that same pressure is what he initially had in mind, well, the road to hell, right?

All told, it's pretty impressive what the team is able to throw together in pretty short order, packing up the necessary equipment and arranging for it to be shipped out to the East Coast. Or at the very least putting through the orders to acquire duplicates where practical for their temporary headquarters out that way. Even Ollie does his part, though admittedly logistics is not necessarily his speciality. But that's why it's Team Arrow these days, instead of him playing lone vigilante, right? He is capable of learning a lesson or two, given the right time and prompting.

Of course, one of the big advantages of the prep-work is that they have hardly even arrived in the city and already things are taking shape, the necessary support infrastructure in place to insure that Felicity will be able to give them a whole lot more intel then might otherwise have been expected. That's a big win. However, if the intent of the trip was to provide a little rest and relaxation -- a chance to get away from it all and mentally reset, the overall grade might not be looking so great right at the moment.

It is entirely possible that they all just need a certain amount of chaos in their lives. That just might be the new normal, for good or ill.

In fairness, Oliver tends to be the driven one amongst them -- well, more driven at any rate. So this time he watches with a certain amount of bemusement -- and a degree of concern -- as Felicity completely vthrows herself into the necessary preparations. Even the cross-country flight seems to be one status update after another, one troubleshooting incident followed by the next. The joys of living in a wireless world perhaps.

Even their arrival doesn't bring a respite, though their makeshift command center is up and running faster then even he would have expected, the bare-bone essentials all in place and ready for Diggle's arrival with the other tools of the trade. Not that Oliver is exactly without his gear of course. This might have been intended to be a vacation, but he's not likely to be caught without his bow and costume. Again, his intentions are good.

But they are all realists by now.

Of course when she goes to run 'an errand', Oliver has a reasonable certainty just what that involves. While the preparations for this mission might have taken up much of her time, there is no doubt just what is taking up the biggest amount of real estate in her head-space these days. He doesn't begrudge her that. Afterall, he's the one who encouraged her to do whatever investigations, make whatever inquiries she needed to get some measure of sanity, just a little peace of mind. So aside from checking up on her -- once! -- to make sure she's alright, he leaves her undisturbed to seek out her answers.

So when she finally does get back to the penthouse that they have procured for this particular mission, Oliver is out on the expansive balcony, casually leaning against the rail as he peers out over

Felicity Smoak has posed:
The large living space of the penthouse is filled with the staccato double-click of Felicity's heels as she strides through, eyes shifting one way and then another.

"Oliver?"

A little farther in, she sets her purse in one of the bar stools sitting at the counter. The place was huge. With a kitchen that professional chefs would drool over, a bar counter for entertaining, breakfast nook, a dining room, a living room, a study... not to mention the sheer vastness of the vaulted ceilings in the main living area. She could literally have put two of her whole apartment in it. Possibly three. Literally just the space in the corner taken up by the desks and tables of the 'command center' was the size of her whole living room.

Her eyes turn towards the open French doors and she makes her way towards them, pausing briefly to set a hand on the frame and look out over the view.

Yes, the afternoon skyline of New York City from this height was breathtaking, but it was the man leaning against the railing that had captured her interest. Up here, the wind was a steady breeze that gusted occasionally strong enough to threaten your balance if you weren't paying attention. Besides the sheer enormity of the place, that was why he hadn't heard her.

So she took that moment just to watch him. A few seconds stretched into more, until finally she just couldn't stand being so far away. She hadn't even changed, yet, but she strode out onto the balcony anyway, coming up to his side and, if he'll allow her, slipping under his arm.

"I'm sorry it took so long," she says, lifting her lips to his for a soft kiss. "I was going to go change, but I saw you out here and.. this was kind of hard to pass up."

Oliver Queen has posed:
There is certainly no shortage of space. The penthouse might not quite compare to the Queen mansion as far as living space and lavishness goes, but it has more then enough of both for their purposes. And the vantage point it offers of the city will let them come and go pretty freely and hopefully without too much notice being taken of just what they might be up to. Toss in the fact that it is reasonably close to Queen Consolidated latest property venture and it is just about everything they could ask for in a headquarters.

It makes for a pretty nice vacation home too. At least in theory. And it's a theory that Oliver is fairly committed to putting to the test.

The arm she worms her way under slips around her gladly, drawing her in close and for a moment at least any further discussion is cut off as his lips find her own, lingering for just a moment. Then he flashes a smile her way, steering them both out over that observation deck and the view of the city beyond.

"That's okay," Oliver is quick to assure her once more, arm tightening around her for just a moment. "I just hope it helped," he assures her warmly. And while the view of the city around them might be truly spectacular, for the moment at least it would seem that he only has eyes for her.

"It was, huh?" he asks, a little wry humor creeping back into his words. "We'll I'm definitely not complaining. And it's not like we're under any sort of schedule. The idea is to relax, just a little anyway." Up here, the sounds of the city below are a little muted, the pulse of the place unobtrusive, at least for the moment. It almost does feel like they have all the time in the world.

No matter how much of an illusion that might be.

"So. What did you want to get up to today? Hit the Met? Walk through Central Park? Cech out the local stores?" he asks with a smile. "Or did you just need to decompress for a bit around here for awhile?"

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Felicity's lips are still tingling from that kiss, and she can't help but mirror his fondness. For a while, it's less about the city beneath and more about the man beside her. It's like they're in this perfect bubble of bliss, where everything else just blurs around them. She watches him through her glasses, her lips stretched into a genuine smile that reveals her teeth.

Her mind takes a while to process his question about if her errand helped. For a brief moment, her smile fades into something softer, more thoughtful. But as he mentions the lack of schedule, the smile bounces back to its original brightness.

Felicity reaches up and slips her glasses off. It meant she didn't have quite the same, crisp view of the New York skyline, but it did give her the ability to turn her head rest her cheek against the front of Oliver's shoulder when he tugged her in beside him. She clung to his arm, pulling herself incrementally closer as she listened to him, felt the way his voice rumbled through his chest, and let the wind blow across her. It carried hints of the scent of the city, the smog and exhaust, but also the faintly wafting smells from a hundred different restaurants on the streets below.

"Yes to all of it?" she asks, voice laced with amusement. "Honestly, though, its been a long day already, and..." Well, implications had already been made about having a long night.

Not to mention that she had no idea where her bags had gone. She'd been so focused on directing and unpacking the crates of tech that she hadn't paid much attention to her luggage. Were they in one of the guest rooms? The master bedroom? What sort of expectations did /that/ set?

Shifting topics, she suggests, "How about we order in for lunch, and maybe... take a shower?" The moment the words leave her mouth, she straightens, replacing her glasses, cheeks glowing a warm shade of pink. "I mean, I'd take a shower... Not that I'd be opposed if you... I mean, we did talk about..." She gestures vaguely towards the bedroom. "But after that, maybe a walk this evening? Followed by dinner?"

She peeks at him from behind her glasses, her eyebrows arched in a hopeful inquiry.

Oliver Queen has posed:
While he might want to make sure that she is doing okay, when it becomes clear that Felicity does not want talk about her trip out to Queens, Oliver doesn't mind tabling the issue either. That's why they are here afterall, at least in large part. To take a break from their worries. And yes, maybe to sneak in a little time for themselves which isn't always quite as easy back into Star City.

They might not be off to the very best of starts on that front. But it looks like they are going to find ways to turn that around.

Changing definitely sounds like a plan. They both look like they should be in the office right now -- and while they might look good doing it, it is a nearly perfect afternoon, the city already awash in the heat of summer. The blue sky overhead is only punctuated by that blazing orb that still hangs high despite the press into the afternoon, and the odd streaks of puffball white as scattered streaks of fluffy clouds give the blue at least a little counterpoint.

Of course changing will require their luggage. And while Felicity was overseeing the setup and installation of the impromptu command center that they brought along with them, Oliver took care of the rest of that. "That is why I kept the afternoon free and clear and made no plans, no reservations," he agrees with a wry smile for her. "We are entirely free of anything even resembling an obligation so we can lounge about here until evening entirely guilt free," he assures her.

The slip on the shower brings that wicked grin back to his expression and Oliver makes a little bit of a show letting those glinting eyes roam down over her much as that arm draped about her shifts, hand running along the small of her back. "A shower you say?" he murmurs archly before giving a low laugh, one thick with more then a few impure thoughts behind it.

Fun as it might be to flirt, he smiles once more and leans over to press a quick kiss to the side of her neck. "That sounds perfect. Why don't you grab a shower and I'll order in some food. Then we can retire out here for a bit," he says, motioning around the lavish deck.

In addition to the view, chairs and the odd table are scattered about the observation platform, while an infinty pool dominates the other half of the outdoor area, the waters looking particularly inviting, the little wind-stirred ripples glinting under the sun overhead.

The smile lingers, but the look in Oliver's eyes does grow a little more serious, a little more earnest then playful. "I, uh, had your things put in the main guest room, the one beside the master bedroom," he says. "It's easy enough to move them, but all teasing aside I don't want you to feel rushed," he says quietly, holding her gaze. "I know we have danced around this for a little while now, but you're worth waiting for Felicity..."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
"And that's one of the many reasons why you're so amazing," Felicity croons after he mentions them being guilt free, her smile growing just a little, though as his hand shifts from its casual hold to the more intimate stroke at the small of her back, her lower lip disappears between her teeth.

Her chin tilts up when he leans towards her, instinctively giving him better access, and while there's no doubt that all of his feelings are reciprocated -- that she thinks about him with the same affection, the same desire -- the next thing that happens might be the single most significantly influential of their entire 'long weekend' together.

/You're worth waiting for Felicity./

She holds his gaze for the space of several, silent heartbeats, and it's as if she set down something incredibly heavy. She hadn't realized how much pressure she was feeling.. even if she was putting some of it on herself. Pressure to solve the mystery of her own disappearance. Pressure to keep Oliver safe in an entirely new city with unfamiliar terrain and networks (the very first thing she did is set up the systems she would need in case he put on his suit and took off). But more than a little of it was pressure to live up to being Oliver Queen's girlfriend.

Tears reach Felicity's eyes, though they don't quite spill over.

"Thank you. You don't.. probably.. understand what that means to me." A grin touches one corner of her lips. "Or maybe you do."

She moves in front of him, hands reaching up to his cheeks as she stretches up to kiss him -- not short and chaste, but long and deep. For a long time, she clung to him there like that, letting the wind whip around them, her fingers lightly touching the curve of his jaw, brushing against his stubble.

And when /that/ kiss breaks, she's noticeably calmer. She settles back in front of him.

"I met with Shazam this morning. He confirmed it. It was real. All of it. He was there, too. And there were others. I'll tell you all about it after my shower."

One more, much more chaste kiss, and then she's slipping away, fingers trailing down to give his hand a final squeeze before she disappears back into the penthouse to find her room.

Oliver Queen has posed:
There is a palpable sense of relief, not just in her -- though she might have needed it most of all -- but in Oliver as well, perhaps more just because it's almost possible to see her relax at last. To let go of some of that tension that she might not have even known she was carrying around with her. He has certainly been in similar positions before, familiar enough to recognize the signs.

It's amazing how quickly one can just get used to coping with that sort of thing, so much so that one hardly notices that it is there. At least until it's gone. It really is a weight lifting. A relief.

"Well, maybe some idea," he agrees lowly, an answering curl of his lips greeting her own as he leans in close once more, hand lifting to cradle her cheek for a moment before lips find one another, lingering this time under the warm sun and city breeze that stirs all around them, the umbrella perched nearby to offer some shade to the table and chairs arrayed beneath it swaying just enough to creak quietly.

When she breaks away, when she provides that update on what exactly she was getting up to earlier in the day Oliver listens and gives a small nod. "Well, at least you know. It's always better to know then not," he says quietly. It might not be as much as a relief, given just how strange it was, how risky and dangerous and still so very mysterious. But she knows it was real now. Not a hallucination or drug-induced dream. Not some cruel trick played on her. That's something, and sometimes something is all anyone gets.

Again that quick, soft kiss is returned and Oliver smiles once more. "Sounds good. I'll see to the food," he says as she starts back into the penthouse, claiming the phone out of his jacket pocket. A little exploring of options and a light afternoon's repast is ordered.

Even before she emerges out of the shower, Oliver has already taken the opportunity to change as well -- the suit banished back to his closet for the time being. It is replaced by much more fitting summer fare -- a simple blue swim suit and white tank top -- that looks a great deal more comfortable as he lays out both food and drink over the table, whistling quietly to himself.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
The door to Felicity's room is barely closed, and Oliver can hear the squeal of absolute glee from inside. Maybe she hadn't expected him to actually follow into the penthouse itself. Or maybe she thought the walls were thick enough to muffle it. They weren't.

Felicity emerges again, but it's not fast. Fifteen minutes for a shower. Ten minutes of unpacking enough to pick out a suitably casual outfit. Ten minutes of drying her hair. Five minutes of doing her makeup.

And when she does reemerge from the room, much like Oliver, she looks much more ready for a summer afternoon on the balcony. Instead of her typical ponytail, her blonde hair has been swept left to right and left loose around her shoulders, and this is one of the rare occasions that her glasses have been left behind in favor of contacts.

The dress she wears has a conservative cut to it, but it's so light and flimsy it's nearly sheer. Lightly hugging her curves and falling to her knees, the wind on the balcony catches the bottom hem and whips it around her legs in the same way it plays with her hair around her shoulders. Hints of the bikini underneath make it clear that it's only meant to be a coverup, but it's obvious the whole outfit is designed to elicit a double-take without coming anywhere near 'porn star chic.' On her feet? Nothing. She's barefoot, which is unusual for her, but it also means she's several inches shorter than Oliver's used to seeing her.

"You sound happy," Felicity points out, smiling as she pads her way back up to Oliver, her hand reaching out to touch his back. "You look fantastic. I like you like this. I mean.. I like you in anything. So. What can I do to help?"

Hair/Makeup: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b5/a7/47/b5a7477f85ff42c8fddfd644360370a8.jpg

Oliver Queen has posed:
That squeal is so gleeful, so excited that it is pretty much impossible not to grin as he goes about his own little chores.

It is of course one of the many differences between them. He tends to be much more buttoned up with his own emotions -- a legacy perhaps of spending so many years on his own. It would be hard not for that time on Lian Yu to leave its mark of course. To leave a whole host of marks really, that he still carries with him. But some of the worst of them might finally be fading -- at least a little bit -- with the passage of time.

And of course she is a part of that. She wears so many of her emotions right out there on her sleeve for the entire world to see, it's hard not to reciprocate in kind. At least a little bit. It helps. Makes him a little less prone to brooding. To going down those darker holes of obsession.

Old, bad habits -- old, bad friends -- that he might not entirely escape. But at least Felicity and the other members of the Team give him a better reason to avoid them. Or at least moderate their hold over him.

He hears her come back out onto that rooftop patio of course, though he does not immediately turn around, finishing laying out their afternoon snack on the table. Indeed, he only glances back over his shoulder when she touches his back, smiling at her before turning around fully to take her in. Oliver never does seem to grow tired of looking at her. Then again he has pretty good cause.

"What can I say? You have a habit of putting me in a very good mood for some reason," he says lightly, slipping one of those arms around her once more, just an instinctive reaction to her presence it would seem. "And you look lovely, Much more relaxed too. Almost like you were on acation," he teases before turning back towards the table.

"I just got something light. To tide us over until dinner," he says, gesturing to the little platters of fruit, cheese, crackers and other light fare. "There's wine if you want it, and water of course," he adds gesturing to the nearby cooler that is perched at one end of the table.

"So I'm afraid you're left with absolutely no chores at all. So you can grab a plate and a glass and take a load off Miss Smoak, because I've called dibs on you for the rest of the day," Ollie pronounces with a grin.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Felicity's smile grows, her eyes twinkling at Oliver's mention of putting him in a good mood, and that arm that slips around her? It's one of her favorite things about their new relationship -- the shared desire to be close physically as well as emotionally. She's more than happy to move into it, her head dipping, the bridge of her nose brushing affectionately against his jaw as she takes that initial movement to nuzzle.

"Thank you," she muses playfully. "Turns out, when you're trying to relax, nine out of ten doctors recommend paying attention and listening to your boyfriend when he's doing absolutely everything in his /considerable/ power to show you how important you are to him." One corner of her lips quirk into a playful grin. "The tenth one is single and bitter, though, so her opinion doesn't really count."

With a brief wink, she leans in to place a kiss on his cheek before turning her attention back to the table.

"I can't wait. I'm starving, and it's perfect. You are going to spoil me, Mister Queen," she says, and when her other hand comes up so that she can properly squeeze him into a hug, there's a box in it -- a long black felt jewelry box, like a bracelet might come in.

However, before she takes him up on his offer, she moves around in front of him and lifts the box in both of her hands. She's nervous, but it's a good, excited nervous rather than the weight she was carrying around earlier.

"There may be a.. more romantic time for this, but honestly, I'm not great at things like this and I've honestly never had a more romantic time than being made lunch on penthouse balcony overlooking New York. So, kudos for that. This is... for you."

She moistens her lips and seems to hold her breath, waiting for him to take it and open it.

Oliver Queen has posed:
While the Queen Estate has no lack of charms, and the privacy of the isolated grounds certainly has their appeal, it can't boast the view of this rented penthouse and the city that sprawls out around it, seemingly on all sides. Aside from the sprawling expanse of the nearby park of course, the oasis of greenery in this little concrete jungle, visible over the edge of that same nearby pool, the water looking as if it is running off right into that forestscape.

"You need to watch out for those bitter, single doctors. They will get you each and every time if you let them," Ollie agrees with mock-gravity, just the corners of his mouth giving away the burgeoning smile that threatens to bust loose from that subdued confinement. "Fortunately you have me around to ward them off. I might not exactly steer you right, but hopefully you'll have a good time nonetheless," he adds, winking playfully.

That hand slips around her once more, falling to rest on her far hip and squeezing her against his side briefly, at least until she turns back towards him. "Well then, lets get some food into you and then see what other ways we can find to properly spoil you," the archer suggests slyly, flashing that grin once more.

At least until he feels that black felt box pressed against him, glancing towards it with a little surprise reflected there in his expression. It's not often that someone can manage that with him -- in any facet of his life -- though she does seemingly find more ways to manage then most. "You didn't have to do that Felicity," he says with a small shake of his head. Though he smiles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips before taking the offered gift from her carefully, giving it a once over before cracking it open.

"Thank you."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
"Fortunately, I have you to ward off a lot of various troubles," Felicity muses, grinning up at him. Then she's close, again, tucking in against him and savoring everything. The warmth and strength of him, the scent that is so uniquely Oliver and /so/... Mmm.

She lifts her head and smiles up at the mention of spoiling, but then there's that box, and she's positioning herself to give it to him, lifting up onto her tiptoes to return that kiss without a word in response to 'having to do it.'

The long, rectangular velvet box hinges open to reveal a pendant on a long length of dark cord with a breakaway clasp, easily able to hit his chest and allow it to be concealable under just about anything. The whole thing is dark, sleek, and very masculine. The pendant is a black stainless steel arrow with a dark brass heart in the middle of it.

General pendant shape: https://i.imgur.com/TmXdsby.jpg

"So, I'm going to assume, given your extracurricular activities, that you're familiar with Cupid symbolism of arrows and hearts." Felicity smiles, her hands fidgeting nervously in front of her. "The arrow is black stainless steel protecting a low-power GPS transmitter that uses copper woven into the cord as an antenna, and the heart is made out of the bullet that we pulled out of you the night I found you bleeding in the back of my car.. the first time I ever saw the inside of the bunker. The signal uses 1024-bit encryption that's beyond military spec so only I can pull up the location, but if you pull the arrow down from the cord... May I?"

She reaches up into the box and does just that, sliding the arrow down in a way that kind of makes it 'click' into a new position. "It sets off an.."

*BWOOP* *BWOOP* The command center inside played an alarm sound loud enough to carry out to the balcony.

"..emergency alert that goes to the command center and to my phone, along with a link to your current location." She pushes the arrow back up where it was.

"Oh! And, it's engraved with my initials.. F-M-S. On the back." She raises one hand to point, as if that really needed to be done. Mostly, it's just her working out nervous energy.

Reluctantly, her hands go back to fidgeting again, and she's staring up at him, the light wind tossing blonde hair around her shoulders.

"And it's waterproof. And.. sweat proof." She purses her lips. "Do you like it?"

Oliver Queen has posed:
While he might have intended this little getaway as a chance to spoil Felicity a little, to help her rest and relax and recover from her recent traumatic experiences, it certainly never hurts to get a little appreciation for one's self either. Even the most stoic of individuals has to get a little bit of the warm fuzzies from that. Even more so when it is someone who one cares for... and is so clearly cared about in turn. So opening up that black felt box from Felicity, Oliver's eyes widen a little when he sees the gift within, the stylized steel arrow with it's brass heart embedded in the center of it. Lifting it out by the cord, he holds it up for a moment as it sways and twists slightly in his grasp, the dark metal seeming to catch the light, but not unduely reflect it back given it's finish. Suitably for the sometimes stealthy activities that he gets up to.

He takes that moment to admire it, to appreciate it. "I am. Admittedly I'm not all that fond of most of the people that I shoot my arrows at, but the symbolism is pretty hard to miss," he agrees with a grin. He slips the cord around his neck, the arrowhead pendant standing out particularly vividly against the start white of his shirt, though it would no doubt fade in almost perfectly against the dark forest greens of his more nocturnal wear.

The technical specs are just as impressive really and Ollie listens closely as she goes over them in detail, giving another appreciative nod as he lifts the arrowhead from where it rests against his chest, continuing to give it a once over. Lips curve into a smile when he notes her initials engrabed into that metal, finally letting it fall to rest in place once more.

Her question draws another smile from him and hands reach for her, coming to rest on either side and framing her body between them as he draws her near to him once more. "It's amazing Felicity. Thank you," he says quietly. "You managed to find something unique, and personal and thoughtful to boot," he notes before giving a quiet laugh, leaning in to rest the tip of his nose against her own. "And all I got for you was lunch," he points out sardonically before laughing once more and stealing a quick kiss.

"I love it. Truly. And it goes so well with my theme."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Felicity takes in the entire thing with the same nervous apprehension, just watching him look it over and finally put it on. It rests right where she'd intended it to -- just above his heart -- and she reaches her hand up, kissing her fingertips and then the arrowhead itself.

She takes a half step closer when his hands claim her sides, drawing her in, and her arms slip up around his neck as she lengthens instinctively against him. Nose to nose. Smile to smile. Those are the only words she was waiting to hear: that he approved.

"You're welcome," she answers, but when he counters with 'all I got for you was lunch,' she laughs derisively and returns that kiss. "Yeah, okay," she taunts, deepening her voice to a goofy-sounding octave as she rolls her eyes playfully.

But then there are those last words, and she can't help stealing one last kiss. "I'm very glad. Just don't forget you have it if something happens. It's not piggy-backed on any of our normal comms. Even if we go dark, it should still work to send me your location. You're more important to me than anything."

A light clearing of her throat, then. "Okay, enough with the heavy stuff. We have a vacation to enjoy. I'm going to pour myself a glass of wine. Would you like one?"

And even as she asked, she was slipping away to go do that.

Oliver Queen has posed:
It's not just the gift itself really, though it is lovely. It is the thought that so clearly went into it that makes it just a little more special. The arrow, given how significant a symbol it is in his life. The remains of the bullet that helped steer her into this part of his life. The fact that there is that practical application to it, a way to reach out to her beyond the ordinary if there is ever do cause. Even the fact that the matte coloring keeps it from being as reflective as the steel otherwise surely would be, that it can realistically blend with his costume.

It's all so very thoughtful. Which only makes it that much more touching.

Ollie smiles as she gives that derisive little laugh, tilting his head just a little to plant a single kiss against the tip of her nose before she can slip away. "Trust me, I won't forget. That it has a decorative, emotional and practical component is part of what makes it so very awesome," he asserts with a low laugh, his hand catching hers for just a moment as she starts to draw away, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze before letting go and turning towards the table himself.

"I think it's safe to say that we've both earned a little wine. And a whole lot of relaxation," he agrees with a soft chuckle, joining her near the table as she pours out the wine. "You maybe a little more than me, with all the setup you did this morning. Don't worry though, I'll catch up in a few days once Digg arrives with the rest of the gear," he promises wryly.

"But for now I'm just going to enjoy having you all to myself."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
The blush lingers on Felicity's cheeks for a moment after Oliver's assessment, apparently pleased that he seemed to understand that she didn't just stop by Tiffany's on the way and pick him up a new Rolex. Not that she could afford one. Or.. not that she knew whether or not Tiffany's sold Rolexes. They must, right? Anyway, the point was.. it wasn't an impulse buy. She understood there was no amount of money or bling she could ever throw at him and pass off as a thoughtful gift. So, she came up with a gift that someone raised by a cocktail waitress would give. Something from the heart, and something practical.

Her fingertips curl, clinging to his hand when he squeezes her to get her to hesitate just a second, and her smile broadens even more. But then she's headed to the cooler, opening it to fetch the wine out.

"Chateau Lafite Rothschild.. 1982. That's quite a vintage."

She's opening it and pouring two glasses, but there's something almost delirious in the way she laughs as she does. "I don't know that I'll ever get used to this lifestyle," she muses.

Then there's the comment about Diggle. "Oh, don't remind me. He'll be here sooner than I expect, and then you'll have to go to work." She pauses, then, at the last, and offers one of the glasses over to him. Then she tilts hers towards him in offering of a toast. "Thank you... for all of this. It's honestly.. beyond my wildest imaginations. And, I have a pretty vivid imagination."

There is a grin that touches her lips, though.

"Just.. please don't get mad at me if the Fantastic Four show up. Or part of them. I sort of asked Shazam to go looking for Franklin Richards."

Oliver Queen has posed:
There was a time when the perks of the Queen lifestyle were about the only thing that Oliver enjoyed. And he certainly indulged in them to no end, that much is for sure. But years alone on a deserted island and all the assorted challenges he underwent in training himself up, into gaining the skills necessary to not only survive and thrive changed all of that.

Or at least it shifted his outlook, if not his circumstances.

He's hardly so blind as to pretend that money somehow doesn't matter, but what he uses it for for the most part has changed and evolved. It has become a tool for him to do something greater, something better. To make other people's lives better instead of just his own.

Of course that doesn't mean he can't reap a little of the good that comes along with his posiiton in society. And share it with those people who are important to him.

"It's not all that often that we get to spoil ourselves. Indulging now and then is a well earned treat, I would say," Olliver says wryly, taking the glass of wine and lifting it her way ever so slightly before he begins to gather up a small plate of some of those snackables.

Gotta keep up that energy, right?

"This is all nice, and I'm glad to get to share it with you," he agrees with a smile, picking out a seat out in the sun, not too far away from the inviting water of the pool before stretching out comfy-like. "But the main thing is having a little extra time to spend with you," he says quietly.

Then he arches a brow her way, sly grin sliding over Oliver's expression. "And I won't complain if we can put that vivid imagination to good use either," he points out, winking her way and taking a sip of that wine.

"Mmmmm, well, if I'm lucky he will be busy, off doing extra-dimensional things or exploring strange new worlds," he says with a chuckle. "But given that in a few days I might be the one having to apologize to you for not having as much time together as we might like I think I can pre-emptively forgive you," he promises.

He's just good that way.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
"You /are/ the boss," Felicity ironically agrees (she only agreed that Oliver was the boss when she actually agreed with him), taking a sip of her wine and then making herself a little plate of the snacks. She nibbling on a piece of fruit on her way over to the chair Oliver has taken up residence in, and instead of selecting one of her own, she picks.. his.

She sets her glass of wine down on the patio, then slips down across his thighs, draping her legs across the arm of the chair and crossing them as she settles in against him.

She'd opened her mouth to respond about having the extra time to spend, but the mention of putting her vivid imagination to use has her smiling and blushing. "Though I am certain there are countless women that be thrilled to spend every minute of the weekend in Oliver Queen's bedroom, I am going to expect you to let me out for food, water, and exercise every once in a while," she teases, eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm pretty sure that's in the Geneva Convention."

Then she's taking a cracker and some cheese, putting it together and offering to Oliver as a bite. Yes, she's feeding him. Because it's adorable, and she's absolutely on cloud nine.

Oliver Queen has posed:
It could be worse right? At least he gets to be the boss some of the time.

Team Arrow doesn't attract a whole lot of weak willed individuals. Every one of them is pretty firm in their convictions, in their own way and while they might be willing to follow Oliver's lead -- when they think he's right -- they're not exactly shy about letting him know when they're conviced he's wrong either. Sometimes they let him know very loudly as a matter of fact. Sometimes it is simply vehemently. Either way, the point is usually successfully made. And Felicity can be every bit as firm in her convictions as those who do more of the field work.

Of course, given her recent abduction, she has kinda gotten a taste for field work too, hasn't she?

Flashing a grin as she joins him in his seat, he carefully sets his own glass down so he can wrap that newly freed arm around the small of her back, supporting her there on his lap. "You pretty much red my mind, you know?" he teases, fingers lightly playing over that filmy dress, tracing up and down indulgently. "I had plans, I'll have you know. To scoop you up and set you down right where you are now. But it would seem that you are one step ahead," he grins.

When she offers up that little tidbit, he leans in takes it from her. Only then does he find the tips of each of those fingers, pressing a small kiss to them one at a time before leaning back in the chair, a self-satisified smile on his face.

"Mmmmm, you do offering pretty reasonably terms, I have to conceed," Ollie admits. "The food and water I'll give you, no question, pursing his lips to hold back the smirk that threatens to slide over his features. "We need to keep your strength up afterall," he points out archly.

"But if I'm keeping you in my bedroom for the weekend, I can pretty much guarantee that you're going to get all the... physical activity you require. No additional exercise needed."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Felicity smiles at the mention of reading his mind. "I've spent /almost/ every night for years with you inside me." She sucks in a breath, closing her eyes briefly. "Your /voice/ in my /ear/," she corrects herself, blushing. "I know you better than you know you... most days. And I'm quickly re-learning the parts I.. had wrong this whole time."

Her finger linger after that bite when he begins kissing them, and a shudder runs down the length of her body, half provoked by the sensation of his lips and half by the fondling of her dress. Either way, if the flush of her skin, the glint in her eye, and the trail goosebumps was any indication, she was.. quite enjoying the attention, herself.

She's certainly enjoying the banter, and though she's obviously about to retort, his final comment about not needing exercise makes her laugh. "I heard it as it was coming out of my mouth, too," she admits, shaking her head.

Then she clears her throat and puts her serious face back on, assembling another cheese and cracker to feed to him. She seemed to enjoy that even more than eating them herself.

"I think you'll find I can be reasonable in most things, Mister Queen," she says, trying to keep a straight face. "And sometimes even... generous." Her eyes twinkle, and once he's taken that bite, she places a kiss on his lips even while he's chewing.

"I'm getting in the pool," she announces, swinging her legs off and starting to get up. She's barely a pace away when she slides her dress up over her head, revealing the royal blue string bikini underneath, and drops it into a chair, headed for the water.

Oliver Queen has posed:
Context is king. Or Queen, as the case may be.

Again the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly and Oliver dips his head towards her. "I was going to say. You remember those missions a whole lot differently then I do. Though yours sound a great deal more enjoyable," he notes, unable to resist teasing her a little, those little slips of the tongue almost impossible to resist.

His smile softens ever so slightly though "But I won't argue with you knowing me better than I do, at least some of the time," he admits. That has certainly been something of a revelation. For both of them perhaps.

Nestled close, that lazy hand continues it's languid exploration of her back, the thin dress hardly a barrier at all, just the most tantilizing barrier of sorts and when she assembles another cheese and cracker treat he leans up to claim it as well, nipping playfully at one finger. "I thought we agreed that I was going to spoil you some," he points out lightly.

"But yes, a swim sounds positively lovely about now," the sometimes Emerald Archer is quick to agree, half turning in his chair as she slips from his lap and grasp, eyes glinting under the afternoon sun as she peels that dress up over her side and deposits it in the chair nearby.

"I hate seeing you go. But I do love watching you walk away," Ollie murmurs impishly, wasting a moment or to to watch her walk over towards the waiting pool in that bikini before rather hastily getting to his feet. His own tank top is peeled off as he barely misses a beat, tossing it behind him casually with that unerring aim, letting it drape over the back of the lounger. "Wait for me."

Frolicking in the water never looked so good.