19952/A Queen for the Holidays

A Queen for the Holidays
Date of Scene:	27 January 2025
Location:	Queen Mansion
Synopsis:	It's Felicity's first Queen Consolidated Holiday Party as Oliver Queen's fiancee, and she quickly finds out that stress of planning and decorating the party is nothing compared to what happens when her father unexpectedly crashes.
Cast of Characters:	Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen

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Felicity Smoak has posed:
The grand halls of Queen Mansion shimmer under the warm glow of holiday lights, the twinkling chandeliers casting golden reflections off the crystal glasses and silver trays that pass between the elegantly dressed guests. A live quartet plays softly in the corner, the delicate notes of a holiday classic weaving through the air, blending seamlessly with the hum of conversation and the clink of champagne flutes.

It has been barely twenty minutes since Felicity's mother, Donna, made her grand entrance -- complete with exuberant hugs, a flood of compliments, and a level of energy that had left both Felicity and Oliver needing a moment to recalibrate. But now, the party is officially underway, with guests steadily arriving, each one greeted by the ever-composed Edmund at the door before being ushered inside to enjoy the lavishly decorated space.

Servers dressed in crisp black and white move effortlessly between the crowd, offering trays of expertly crafted finger foods -- mini beef wellingtons, smoked salmon blinis, and delicate cranberry goat cheese crostini -- paired with glasses of bubbling champagne. The towering Christmas tree in the center of the grand room is a striking mix of elegant gold and deep emerald green, accented with soft white lights that flicker like stars against the dark pine. Nearby, a fireplace crackles with warmth, its mantle adorned with an artful arrangement of garlands, flickering candles, and even a menorah, standing proudly amidst the holiday display.

Oliver and Felicity move fluidly through the crowd, a glass of champagne in hand, offering warm smiles and easy conversation as they begin to mingle with their guests. Though Felicity seems much more comfortable than she has at previous parties, a beautiful light blue dress that hugs her form just enough to be flattering while remaining classically elegant, she is still unmistakably her -- glasses perched on her nose, her blonde hair swept up into an effortless chignon, a hint of sparkle at her ears. And a shiny new engagement ring on her finger.

The faintest touch at the small of her back -- just the brush of fingers -- grounds her for a moment, reminding her that Oliver is right there, a steady presence in the whirlwind of the evening. She turns slightly, meeting his gaze, and for just a second, the party around them fades into a quiet, shared moment.

Then, a burst of laughter from across the room pulls her back, and she exhales with a smile, lifting her glass just slightly toward him in a silent toast before taking another sip. The night is just beginning.

Oliver Queen has posed:
It is a beautiful setting for a holiday party to be sure. As lovely as any that Oliver has attended here at the Queen mansion over the many years his family has hosted this holiday tradition for the members of the extended Queen Consolidated family.

And to put it quite simply, the woman at his side is responsible in large part for that.

Afterall, it was Felicity who took charge of decorating the mansion this year. It was Felicity that added the warm little touches to help supplement the various classic looks that have normally made this holiday tradition such a stunning affair for anyone that happens to attend.

One more thing for her husband to be to admire. One more thing for him to appreciate.

Which is probably a good thing, because in truth, Oliver is rather looking forward to the party ending at this point.

The food is wonderful, the ambience festive, the drinks free-flowing. All of it is perfect. But given his choice, he would much rather be celebrating his new engagement with Felicity and their small circle of family and friends then playing host to all of the near strangers populating the mansion tonight.

Still, Oliver understands the importance of this event. The ties that it helps to forge with the various employees of Queen Consolidated. The way it makes people feel included and he can at least appreciate that. So he'll play host. He'll smile, circulate, make small talk. All of it made considerably easier by the woman at his side.

But a part of him will most definitely be counting the minutes until the party is over and their home is once again theirs and theirs alone. He's pretty sure most people would understand.

It's early enough in the festivities that no one has yet taken note of Felicity's new accessory, that ring on her finger. But that is almost guaranteed to change before the nights is over. There will be toasts no doubt, and questions, and they will have to share their good news with the world sooner then they might have preferred.

But at least they will be doing that together as well. And it is only one night. They have the rest of the holidays to look forward to, just them and their closest family and friends.

And then the rest of their lives together.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Her husband to be.

The word itself will take some getting used to, but the feelings for the man behind it won't change, no matter what he's called. Partner. Boyfriend. Fiance. Husband.

It's been there in her eyes, in the way she looks up at him like he's the only thing in the world that matters. And if her mother is to be believed, she's been doing that for a lot longer than she's intended to. Sometimes, it seems like Oliver and Felicity were the last ones to realize just how strong their feelings had become.

But here they are at the threshold of a new beginning after spending over a decade side-by-side surviving life's difficulties. Surviving supervillains and toxic chemicals. Surviving kidnappers and web bombs. Surviving alien invasions and everything else that life has thrown at them.

Surviving. Together. Just like they would continue to do.

Luckily, this is just a holiday party. The chances that they'll have to work to survive anything here are incredibly low, though given who they are, they're never zero.

In fact, just as that thought ghosts across Felicity's eyes, a young woman in one of the black and white server's uniforms comes up to her side, keeping her voice low and discreet. She passes a look over Oliver with a sheepish smile and a blush she can't seem to help -- because of course she does, few women can resist, especially when they're standing so close.

The woman at Oliver's side -- his new fiancee -- doesn't miss the once-over, though it doesn't seem to be an intentional slight. Once the girl turns her eyes fully towards Felicity, they share something that very much looks like a quick apology and a flash of sympathetic understanding.

'Me, too,' Felicity's knowing smile seems to convey.

"Ms. Smoak," the server says softly, "do you have a moment? There's a small issue with one of the deliveries."

"Is Edmund...?"

"I was told this was a delivery that you would want to handle personally," the girl explains, worry knitting her brow.

Felicity looks perplexed, but she nods. "Sure," she says, looking up at Oliver with a playful smile. "Are you going to be okay without me for a few minutes? Don't let them eat you. Also, don't forget that Ted's just coming back from gallbladder surgery," she dips her head slightly towards the man she's talking about, "and Dr. Thompson," she gestures with her glass slightly towards a woman with red hair, "just filed a patent for a new type of polymer insulation that she's very eager to discuss with anyone who will listen. She'd probably like some recognition, but try not to get trapped."

Felicity had some some research into personnel files before the party. Because of course she did.

Her teasing smile lingers, warm and familiar, even as curiosity begins to prick at the edges of her mind. A delivery she would want to handle personally? That's not normal. Edmund had an iron grip on the logistics of the party, and for anything to slip past his meticulous attention to detail meant that this wasn't some mundane catering mishap.

Still, she lingers, waiting for Oliver's reaction before just slipping away from him.

Oliver Queen has posed:
For the most part Oliver Queen is pretty good at staying on top of things.

Of course that particularly applies to anything that remotely relates to his activities as the Green Arrow, first and foremost. There are not many threats to Starling City that go unnoticed for long, given his desire to keep his home safe. To generally improve the outlook for it's citizens and restore a certain amount of the grandeur it once had.

Or that he imagines that it once had. Sometimes memories from one's childhood loom a little larger then actual life.

It might be a fair assessment that such oversight over his personal life took something of a backseat, at least once he returned from Lian Yu. His priority was very much focused on his extracurricular activities once the sun went down.

But then it would seem that he has always had a little difficulty in finding a proper sort of balance over that sort of thing. When he was young, it loomed far too large in his list of priorities, only to be neglected later.

And while that might mean that it took him longer to find Felicity then it should have, longer to accept that he could be Queen Consolidated CEO, could be the Green Arrow and could find time to make a relationship work - at least with the right woman - then it should have, he does seem to have managed to get there eventually.

It's not hard to overhear the discussion between Felicity and one of the staff brought in for the night - overhearing things that he isn't meant to is one of the things he does well afterall. Nor is it a surprise that they would come to her, given the amount of work put into setting up this entire affair. While he is skeptical that whatever the delivery might be that Edmund can't handle it perfectly well, he lets his obvious amusement show that apparently only Felicity's direct attention will suffice.

Really, it is a point of view that he has a great deal of sympathy with. One that he shares. His poor, much put-upon personal assistant has undoubtedly been forced to deal with the same attitude from him, from time to time.

"Being summoned, are we?" he asks archly, giving the young woman a brief nod before his attention turns fully and completely to his future bride. Again, there is that flicker of amusement as she goes over a few little details about the guests he is most likely to have to deal with in her absence, but he only squeezes her fingers briefly.

"Got it. I did my research too," he assures her with a half smile. He might not be as good at it as she is, but when the need is there he makes sure he is up on any detail he should be. And little things like that can make a big difference on nights like this. More to the point, he genuinely wants to know and understand what's going on in the lives on his people.

He might be far from an ideal CEO, but he tries to be a fairly effective leader, even if the business world pales in comparison to the rest of his life.

"I can hold down the fort here. You go do what you need to do," he assures her, already turning back towards the task at hand. He might not be quite girding himself for combat. But that doesn't mean a few preparations aren't a good idea.

If he only had some idea how the rest of the night is really going to go.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Felicity exhales softly, her smile shifting from teasing to grateful as Oliver assures her he'll be fine without her for a while. It's such a small thing, this brief exchange, but there's comfort in knowing he's here, that they've built this life together where they can share the weight of everything -- even something as simple as navigating party guests.

Rising onto the balls of her feet, she presses a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek, fingers squeezing his briefly before she steps back. "I'll be back before you have a chance to miss me," she promises with a wink, though they both know she's already keeping an ear out, just in case he does need rescuing from polymer insulation discussions.

Then she turns, following the server as they slip through the crowd and toward the kitchen.

John Diggle moves through the crowd with purpose, his expression set in that particular brand of quiet intensity that means something's wrong. He doesn't rush -- rushing draws attention -- but he's direct, sidestepping servers with trays of champagne and neatly maneuvering past clusters of guests engaged in polite conversation. His eyes are sharp, scanning the room as he zeroes in on Oliver.

When he reaches him, he doesn't speak right away. Instead, he positions himself just slightly to Oliver's side, angling so their conversation won't be easily overheard. Diggle is nothing if not professional, and a Queen Consolidated holiday party is not the place for dramatics.

"Oliver, you have an unexpected... guest," he says quietly, not wasting time with pleasantries.

Then, after the briefest beat, Diggle's gaze flickers toward the entrance. His jaw tightens. "Your mother just pulled up."

It might be suspicious, Felicity being led away at the exact moment of Moira's unexpected arrival, but it's a party. There's a lot going on. Sometimes, things just work out like this. Nevertheless, Diggle stands there, waiting for Oliver's response, already prepared to move in whatever direction he's needed.

Meanwhile, the warmth of the main hall fades as Felicity and the server move through the quieter parts of the mansion. The kitchen is bustling, chefs and staff moving with practiced efficiency, the scent of baked brie and rich spices clinging to the air, but they don't stop there. Felicity frowns as they push past the catering station, moving toward the back servant's entrance.

"I thought there was a problem with a delivery?" she asks, glancing at the girl as they step out into the bracing cold.

The chill is immediate, cutting through the lingering warmth from the party inside as Felicity instinctively wraps her arms around her middle. She's not dressed for this -- her pretty dress offering little defense against the bite of winter, her breath turning to vapor beneath the artificial lighting.

And then a figure moves from the shadows.

Tall, slender, well-dressed. The gray in his hair catches the dim glow from the security lights. The coat he lifts -- offering it, always prepared, always the strategist -- is familiar.

But not as familiar as the sharp, assessing gaze behind those wire-rimmed glasses.

Felicity stops cold. Her stomach tightens.

"Dad?!"

The word is half question, half exhale, as if her brain is still catching up with what her eyes already know. Her body locks up, every muscle coiled as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Because it will.

It always does with Noah Kuttler.

And even if Noah isn't the one to drop it, Oliver will be, if he catches Felicity alone with the man who nearly killed him and everyone else in the Watchtower.

This isn't just Felicity's father.

He's 'The Calculator.'

Oliver Queen has posed:
While sitting - or standing in this case - through any long, detailed technical discussion is not exactly Oliver's idea of a good time, he's fairly certain he will be able to feign enough interest and ask one or two leading questions to get through things without too much difficulty. The one nice thing about this particular event is that no one expects him to linger overlong in any single conversation, not if he is going to spend a few moments with most of the guests.

Though if anyone is likely to forget about that fact it is likely to be one of the overeager science types that he has in his employ. Everyone has that subject that is of particular fascination for them afterall, that they just can't help going over. No doubt Oliver could bore more then a few people with the subtlties of archery if he were so inclined.

"Too late for that. I miss you already," Oliver counters with that half-smile, winking playfully at her. "You better hurry and see what the emergency is," he agrees, reluctant though he might be to give her up. "And to remove the temptation from me to just toss you over my shoulder and carry you upstairs and the hell with what all our guests will think," he adds lightly, giving a quiet laugh before letting her slip away.

While he turns back to deal with the guests.

Or at least that was the genuine intent. The blonde billionaire even takes a breath and starts towards the nearest pack gathered close by the towering CHristmas Tree that dominates the room, mentally reviewing his notes on what is worth mentioning - and in at least one case what should be avoided at all costs.

But he doesn't reach them before Diggle makes his appearance, his expression telling Oliver all he needs to know before the other man even reaches him. Trouble. Not of the Green Arrow variety in all likelihood. No doubt his old friend would already be making a suitable distraction to allow Oliver to slip off and change into something more suitable.

But trouble comes in all shapes and sizes, and given some of the stakes this evening, social trouble might be worse then any other sort that could present itself.

So of course Diggle says those magic words.

That there is an unexpected guest is no real surprise. Because there is always an unexpected guest it seems. It is practically one of the most dependable constants in the universe. But in this case it's not just any guest no is it. No, it would have to be his mother.

Oliver loves Moira Queen. She is, afterall, his mother. That does not mean, however, that she is always easy to deal with. And it all likelihood she will be a little less easy to deal with tonight.

Of course there is a part of him looking forward to sharing the news about his engagement with Moira. Of course he is glad that she is back from whatever mysterious destination she has been hiding herself away in. Of course he is well aware that Thea will be relieved to see her.

But he wouldn't have minded a few more days. Maybe until after the holidays. It isn't difficult to imagine her reaction. It isn't difficult to imagine her picking at Felicity, doing her best to get under her skin.

He doesn't particularly want to put his foot down. But he's not going to have the holidays ruined either. Not by his mother. Not by anyone.

Poor Felicity. Her In-Laws are not the easiest to deal with. Then, she has at least one family member he would just as soon not deal with either.

So the blonde billionaire sighs and gives his old friend a nod. "Thanks John. I'll go meet her," he says quietly, a certain resignation to his words.