19156/No Assistance Required

No Assistance Required
Date of Scene:	26 September 2024
Location:	Arrowcave
Synopsis:	Overwatch is in the Arrowcave fighting a new sort of villain.. Bill Collector. Luckily, it's Green Arrow to the rescue.
Cast of Characters:	Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen

---

Felicity Smoak has posed:
"Okay... I don't understand. I've cross-referenced the last six months of transactions through both banks and the credit cards. I pulled the credit report through the big three, and I even did a keyword search the archives of the outgoing messages on the e-mail server itself looking for any trace of references to this company..."

In the Arrowcave basement of the Queen Mansion in Starling City, Felicity is in full Overwatch mode. She's got information up on all six monitors: bank statements, e-mail history, some sort of text-based search that's still scrolling across the screen as green text on a black background.

Except... something seems off. She seems off. There's a note of something closer to panic, exasperation, or despair in her voice that isn't there, even when she's fighting through a hacking battle with some of NSA's top network security gurus for control over a mainframe. It isn't just that she hasn't found what she's looking for, it's that it's personal The fact that she can't find whatever it is is shaking her self-confidence in a way it shouldn't be, if this is just another job...

...but it's not another job. In fact, Oliver hasn't asked her to research anything, today. So, has she taken it upon herself to track down some bad guys?

No.

"...I know I paid that bill, Oliver. There are zero chances that I missed it."

This is why Felicity needs an assistant, but she refuses.

She doesn't need an assistant, she says, because she can't afford an assistant. Her fledgling Smoak Technologies is still operating in the red and still using Queen Consolidated funding -- which is yet another point of contention that she is both grateful and resentful for. She doesn't want her relationship with Oliver to be the only reason her business succeeds. On the other hand, it's not like Queen Consolidated isn't going to be getting a substantial return on investment once she is successful...

"I remember it coming in. I was just sitting down to look into the new records we got for Phoenix Towers, and I distinctly remember pulling it up so I could double-check what was actually delivered... and then we got that call from Barry... and..."

Felicity squints through her glasses.

"Look, there's no way I didn't go back to it. It was already open."

Oliver Queen has posed:
Even now, when she has every possible excuse she could ever need, even when she has a boyfriend who would completely understand if one night, she just couldn't answer the bell. Even now she puts his crusade -- their crusade really, she has meshed herself into it until it would be almost impossible to seperate out their passion, their interest in this particular cause -- even now, it gets put ahead of her own ambitions.

So damn right he is going to put aisde everything and make a little time to help her through all of this.

There is a simple solution of course. It is the solution that often presents itself when Oliver Queen is involved. It i the solution that most of the ludicruously rich have close at hand. Their wealth. He can easily provide the funding to take care of any arrears payments, to smooth things over with any supplier or agency that is otherwise feel inclined to try and punish her new business.

And long term he would have no problem providing the funding that would allow her to procure the assistance of a competent assistant. Someone to take some of the administrative load off of her shoulders and let her focus on the big picture of running Smoak Technologies. It makes a great deal of sense.

But the simplest solution isn't always the best solution. Because he can solve something with money, doesn't mean that he should. Not when it involves her. Not when it is something important to her.

He doesn't question her memory, doesn't question whether it got lost in the always chaotic situation that seems to inevitably envelop this particular little hideaway sooner rather then later. Anyone else he probably would. But if she is certain, so is he. He doesn't need anything more then that.

"Okay, so maybe that's the answer then," the blonde billionaire suggests, perching himself up on the edge of the desk, gaze flickering between her and those monitors with that steady stream of information flowing across it. "Maybe it got swept up with the other hard copies from what we were dealing with at the time. I imagine you paid the invoice online," he says, a hint of wry humor creeping into his voice. "Because you do everything online." Which is only partially true.

The best things they definitely do not do online.

"So chances are if we can lay our hands on it, there will be a confirmation number written on it," he suggests, already slipping free from his perch, turning towards the nearby filing cabinets.

Chances are there is an online solution as well. But that is why they compliment one another. She can dwell in the virtual space. He'll turn to the physical world for his solutions. Together, they usually find a way to get there.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.

Felicity stares up at him through the monitor-light reflecting in her glasses. "Oliver, you might be a genius. If you keep this up, you're going to be taking over for me as Overwatch," she's already rotating in her chair to look back at her screens, hand on mouse, fingers flying over keys, "which is super unfortunate both for the criminals and a lot of innocent bystanders, because I am not good with a bow..."

The monitors on the desk flash through a few more screens. This time she's scrolling back through surveillance footage and call logs, her head tilting ever-so-slightly to the side. It moves her ponytail over towards one shoulder.

"Did I tell you I tried to draw one of your bows one day? I mean, it didn't have an arrow in it, obviously. I wasn't trying to kill anyone. But, I couldn't even pull it back. I'm pretty sure you have your draw strength set to like, infinity..."

Not that she minded that strength -- or the maintenance required to keep it up. Almost without conscious thought, her eyes flickered up and over to the salmon ladder with a little, hungry tug of amusement at the corner of her lips. But it only lasts for a second, and then she's back to looking at her screen.

"Okay... check July... Seventeenth. If it's in there, it's with the research I was doing for Barry on the S.T.A.R. Lab reconstruction project after that break-in by the M.L.F. There should be some blueprints and permits that I had hard-copies of," she says, finally swiveling away from her desk to stand.

Click. Click. Click. Her heels echo in the basement lab as she comes up beside him, looking up with an awed little smile.

"If you find this, I'm going to owe you so big."

Oliver Queen has posed:
While Ollie might be the man of actions more often then not, he has been known to come up with a good idea from time to time. It's pretty much a requirement in this business, given how many of their foes have powers and abilities far beyond anything that a guy with a bow should be able to deal with. Sometimes you just have to outsmart the opposition. Trick them or lead them into a trap.

All of that has admittedly become much easier since Felicity came into his life, mind you. Having that eye in the sky, having someone able to provide a different perspective at a key moment has worked better then even his wildest imaginings. To the point that he really can't imagine how he ever managed to deal with all of this before her.

So it shouldn't be that much of a surprise that he can do a little bit of crossing over into her area of expertise.

Still, he flashes a grin back over his shoulder towards her even as he pads over to those cabinets, tugging one of the middle ones open without even turning back towards it. "That would be unfortunate for everyone, myself included. I'd probably have a meltdown the first time the computer didn't do what I wanted it to, or if you called in for information in a rush," he points out wryly. He's not completely incompetent when it comes to computer technology, but he's far from a genius either.

And he really does like to be out in the field.

"On the other hand," he continues, finally turning back to the matter at hand, pulling out a set of file folders and beginning to thumb through it, all the records meticulously organized of course -- especially given her ability to cross reference it all on that computer system. "You do look very sexy in green. So maybe we shouldn't dismiss the idea out of hand," he teases lightly.

"I can teach you the bow. You definitely don't want to use mine, but we can get you one that'll work for you, trust me," he adds, rapidly narrowing down that search, but more then content to continue to play with her in the meantime. There might be some method to that madness though. The threat of her panic does seem to have rather dissipated. "I'm a big fan of any sort of hands on work with you..."

Before he can tease her any further though, he abruptly says, "...found it." Tugging out the file folder, he turns back towards her desk, absently starting to thumb through it at the same time. "Mmmhmmm. You can knock one of the many I owe you off the list. Keep this up and we'll be back on even footing in a couple of years," he points out wryly.

That folder is abruptly opened, the invoice in question sitting right in the middle of a stack of papers as he presents it to her.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
On the other hand..

As soon as he starts down that path, the smirk is already curling on her brightly painted lips. She lifts up onto her toes, the stiletto points of her heels coming just off the ground as she leans to peer around his shoulder at the files he's thumbing through.

"Oh, no. I like a nice emerald green as much as the next girl -- even more, on you -- but there's no way I'd be taking over as GREEN Arrow. I'm thinking maybe..." She waves her fingers back and forth a little, then makes a little sweep of her hand to indicate her current dress. "...Salmon Arrow. That one's not already taken, is it?"

Her eyes twinkle with mirth. And adoration. He's not wrong -- that anxiety was already melting away. Not only did he have a good idea that she hadn't thought of, he was going one step further... he was helping. If Felicity knew one thing for absolute certain, it was that no matter what happened, they'd be fine as long as they were together, and that thought had kept her calm during a LOT of close calls. So, while she was slowly driving herself insane trying all of her usual methods to track down this one infuriating piece of information that she needed to prove to this one stupid company that she'd already paid their stupid invoice, just the fact that she and Oliver were working as a team -- even on something so mundane as a confirmation number -- seemed to make all of the difference in the world to her sanity.

I can teach you the bow...

"Oh, come on. Even you aren't that brave." She seems to dismiss the thought out of hand as a joke, but after a couple of seconds she looks up at him, blinking. "You are kidding, right? You would seriously trust me not to kill one of us? I almost shot my eye out with a rubber band the other day, which was technically Diggle's fault."

How was it Diggle's fault that she almost shot her own eye out? She does not elaborate.

"Luckily, I wear glasses." She smiles smugly, though the mention of 'hands on' work has her letting out a long, plaintive groaning. "Ugggghh.. don't tease me. I have been trying -- "

Found it.

"Wait. Are you serious?" Felicity's already rushing forward, trying to get around him to see, following at his elbow as he moves to the table and flips through it. There's barely even room for air to pass between them she's crowding so far into his space, like an excited labradoodle.

When that invoice is produced in the middle of all of those permits, Felicity's eyes go wide, and before she takes it, she grabs both of his cheeks and leans up to place a happy kiss squarely on his mouth.

"I love you. Have I told you that recently? I mean it. You're my favorite super-hero."

She's grinning so broadly it almost seems like it must hurt, but then she's snagging that one page off of the middle of the stack and taking it over to where her phone is sitting so she can switch to camera mode and snap a picture of it.

Flash. Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Aaaannd... done. Take that, Mister Bill Collector." Pause. "Hey, that would be a fantastic name for a bad guy.. Bill. Bill Collector." She pauses again and looks up at Oliver in mild horror. "You don't think the universe just rearranged itself to make him real because I said that out loud, do you?"

Oliver Queen has posed:
That makes him flash a grin her way.

He really can't help it. She generally has a way of putting him into a better mood. It is one of the many things that he has come to love about Felicity -- so very different from the sorts of women he once would have dated. And so much more meaningful.

"You do look awfully good in salmon too. The Salmon Arrow has a nice ring to it," he agrees lightly, eyes flicking towards the salmon arrow over positioned in full view of the desk for some reason, one perhaps only fully known and appreciated by the two of them. She might not be climbing them in rapid fire fashion anytime in the near future but that doesn't necessarily mean that Ollie can't think of any other uses to put it to.

She is both a good and bad influence on him. Sometimes at practically the same moment. Though they both seem rather okay with that particular fact.

That she already seems a little more relaxed, that some of the stress and panic seems to have faded from her features is something of a relief to him. More then anything else that was his mission here, at least in his mind. He has no doubt that she would have solved this problem without him. It might have taken her a little longer, but she would have gotten there. Maybe not by looking through the physical records from that day, but he has absolute faith in her ability to find the information she needs when she really needs it.

That he can make it just a little easier, a little less stressful is what he is happy to bring to the table on this particular occasion.

"Oh, don't you under estimate me," he counters, flashing another grin her way at the mention of the hazards of rubber bands. At least rubber bands wielded by Felicity. "I bet I can get you pretty proficient with one in a surprisingly short amount of time. I'm a pretty decent teacher I'll have you know," he teases. "And I'm confident that I can find suitable ways to motivate you, that I guarantee," he quips wryly as he hands over that folder to her with the necessary paperwork -- the confirmation number for the payment scrawled out in her handwriting on the invoice.

She was right. And the people that were arguing with her were quite clearly wrong. As usually tends to be the case. He'd quite happily call them up and tell them 'She told you so. Next time listen'. But he likewise has a great deal of confidence that she will be able to handle that too.

There is also the fact that for a brief moment he is a little too occupied to talk, his reward for that timely bit of assistance his very favorite of them all, that kiss from her, one hand sliding up the back of her neck to hold her perhaps a second or two longer then strictly necessary.

"You might have mentioned it a time or two," Ollie agrees wryly, watching as she collects her proof and send it off, that bemused expression sliding back into place. "See, I don't know if that's a terrifying thought or a delightful one? The idea of the world reshaping itself with every slip of your tongue..."

Oh what a world, filled with such wonderful possibilities...