9473/Man About Town

Man About Town
Date of Scene:	05 January 2022
Location:	Felicity's apartment
Synopsis:	Slade comes to visit Felicity. They make a decision.
Cast of Characters:	Slade Wilson, Felicity Smoak

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Slade Wilson has posed:
When Slade had left Felicity at her apartment, he had left her a few gifts. Well, one gift, but that's just so she knows exactly what his intentions were. He didn't change her or anything like that, but he did leave a note:

"Felicity,

You'll notice a gift on your countertop. Consider it a 'thank you' for your company and for the laughs and the storytelling. You're a confident lady, even if you stumble over words. I found it adorable. Don't be alarmed, we didn't have sex. I didn't think it right, since you were....well, very drunk. But, I was hoping I could stop by sometime, maybe tonight, to help you if you have a hangover.

I'll see you soon, Felicity.

- Slade"

and already, she has become a weakness for him. A way to get to him. Yet, he didn't seem to mind...because nobody would dare. Nobody is ballsy enough. But, well, if Felicity would check on her countertop, she would notice a tall bouquet of flowers. Roses.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Guh..

Roll over and go back to sleep. No.. no.. not that direction, that direction.

Groan.

Finally, with another groan, blinking, unfocused eyes, Felicity gropes for her glasses that are always on the bedside, knocking over her alarm clock in the process.

Finally, maybe an hour or so later, she actually makes it to her feet. With glasses.

Looking down at herself, definitely last night's dress. With a frown, she begins the day's ablutions mid-afternoon.

There goes her day.

Wandering out to the kitchen, showered and dressed down in sweat pants and croptop for a night in, she slows and stops when she sees the bouquet of roses. And the note. Picking it up, she walks around her kitchen, holding the paper in two hands as she reads it, a slow smile rising to her face. She looks back at the vase of flowers, to the note, the flowers, and exhales in a happy sigh. The exhalation, however, reminded her that she needs to hydrate. Lots. Before her head hurts even more than it does.

Slade Wilson has posed:
They say timing is everything.

Sure enough, that's probably true.

Perhaps it would be extremely inconvenient for Felicity if there happened to be a doorbell sounding in her apartment as he's buzzing himself in. Unlike Felicity, he was wearing some simple trousers and a dark-colored shirt with a leather jacket over that as well. If she answered the door, Slade would be found there before her, dressed as he was.

Black eyepatch still worn over his missing eye. He knocks on the door....and he waits. Will Felicity grant him entry, or will she be satisfying her hangover?

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Timing.

Cold glass of ice water is in hand, and Felicity is walking around her kitchen, swallowing small mouthfuls slowly. Aspirin? Oh, absolutely. Every sip of water brings with it a promise, an oath that it won't happen again.

She has a resolut-

The door? Felicity looks briefly puzzled, as if trying to work out exactly what that noise is, and once determined, who it could possibly be. The half-filled glass is set on the counter, not far from the bouquet of roses, and she pads barefooted across the floor to look through the fish-eye. It's..

"Oh god. Um.. um.. hold on," is called through the door before she pushes her hand through her hair, as if that'll make it look better and,

opens the door.

"Um.. hi." Surprised! "C-c-come on in." The stuttering isn't nerves, no. It's more surprise, coupled with the hangover, coupled with the fact that he's looking.. very handsome. She takes a quick look out into the hall to see if Apartment C noticed, and closes the door quickly once he's in.

Slade Wilson has posed:
Timing.

Slade hears her voice and he starts to take a deep breath in relief. Good, she didn't drink herself so silly that she didn't remember her own name or was a vomiting mess. Yet, it's Slade Wilson that walks through the door when she opens it.

"Hello Felicity." Slade chuckles as he gives her a once over. Though it's not the kind of look that suggests extreme humor towards the situation, but rather the eye of a man who's looking at a supermodel. He doesn't look at her as she checks, then he turns to loo at her as he moves closer. "How are you feeling? I'm sorry for dropping in unannounced, but I happened to miss the company, and wanted to check and see if you were okay." He smiles at her.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
With the door closed, she leans against the closed door and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, allowing that bit of dizziness to pass. She has a smile on her face, and another hand passes self-consciously through her hair again. No such luck!

"It's okay, really. I.." she pauses before she starts all over again, "Thank you." Nodding as she crosses the room towards the kitchen, it's a nervous energy. Not fear, just still very unexpected. "Can I offer you tea? Coffee?" Of course, that brings the flowers into full view, and they can't go unremarked.

"The flowers are beautiful. They- they really are."

Finally, another breath is taken as her hand reaches to her heart. //Don't forget to breathe!//

"I .." here, she finds her voice again, and it holds a touch of wry amusement, "Never again."

Slade Wilson has posed:
The closed door and Slade turns on his heel to look at Felicity as he inspects her apartment. Cameras, any kind of weapon ordinance, if she has any pets...the usual. Soldier mentality, always be firmly aware of where you are at any given moment or it -will- sneak up on you. and frankly, Slade doesn't see any of that here. Well, she might have a handgun or something if someone breaks in.

Hopefully.

"You're welcome." Slade smiles at her. "Some tea would be great, thank you." he tells her with a chuckle as he looks at her. "Well, I figure that the flowers were theo nly thing I could find that matched your beauty." Slade looks her in the eyes then, not shying from her intelligent gaze.

Then he hums. "Is that too forward?" He questions, and he smirks at her as she looks amused at her own drinking. "They always say that." he smirks. "how'd you sleep?"

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Believe it or not, Felicity does have cameras, but she determines when they're active and when they're not. After all, who wants dalliances saved to the hard drive? Assuming, of course, there's such a thing that happens in her apartment! They're offline, and watching him move around the general area of her apartment with a keen eye, she knows exactly what it is he's looking for. She's learned that much, at least. That, and always know where your exits are.

"I have a fire escape off the kitchen," is offered helpfully, definitely with good humor. When it registers that he did indeed agree to tea, she follows up lamely, "Not that I'm going to use it. Tea, tea is good."

Awwwww!

There goes the awkward, and here it comes back around. She's never been able to take compliments well; not having been the recipient of them very often at all. "You're.. very kind." She shakes her head as she fills the tea kettle, putting it on the stove to heat. Next, a little teapot is pulled down, and a loose tea leaf tin. The little things she enjoys, she really does spend the extra money for. "Cookie? Baked them myself a few nights ago. Still have a half-dozen because, well.." Just her.

Felicity leans back against the counter, blue eyes looking at him from behind glasses, "No.. no." She shakes her head, looking happy, pleased, "Just, no one's ever done that for me before is all." She shakes her head, looks down and away before looking up and at him again. "Kinda new."

Taking a deep breath, she lets it out slowly, ready to go for that other bit, "Yeah, well, I mean it. This time." She watches the expression on his face, predicting, and repeats, "Really. I mean it. And if I ever, EVER think that it's a good idea? Stop me."

Slade Wilson has posed:
Slade chuckles Ashe looks at her, "I'll be sure to remind you and of course, take the bottle from you if you start hitting it hard." Slade chuckles a little bit. He catches a camera out of the corner of his eye. "Ah, good. A way out of anything goes wrong and I wake up with you throwing pans at me." That's intended to be a joke, maybe a poor one considering they haven't spent night or day together yet.

"I'd love one." A cookie that is. Slade would love plenty from Felicity, but he's a gentlemen first. Yet as she tells him that no one has ever done that for her, Slade draws closer and reaches for her hand as he looks at her. "That's because you've never met anyone like me before."

Was that smooth?

"Did you make any for friends or largely for yourself? No judgment, my guilty pleasure is making cakes. Reminds me if home."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
"Because that's just what I do," Felicity laughs, her tones dry, "I'll make sure you're around, because never drink alone." That's been her rule, and so far she's stuck to it!

Canting her head, and with the gesture, her hair falls forward a little, the smile remains from the earlier laugh. She tucks a bit of hair behind her ear, "I don't throw things. I track and shut down accounts. If I'm really mean, I wait and build a failsafe so it happens just as the person is accessing the account, so he can see it happen in real time." A shrug lifts her shoulders, and while there is the wit, the beauty, there is certainly brains there.. and a mean streak. Her imagination is her weapon.

"No pans, promise. Probably a few ineffectual slaps, some yelling, and definitely some ugly crying. Then, the ice cream."

Cookies!

Pushing herself off the counter, Felicity goes to the refrigerator, only to take down the plastic tupperware container that sits on the top. "Cookies. Cookies. I have peanut butter.. you're not allergic to peanuts, are you?" Sudden horrible thought! "Chocolate chip. Macaroons.. a specialty of mine."

The teapot begins its singing on the stovetop, and with a quick push, she turns the burner off. There's a momentary pause, a thoughtful one, before she shakes her head and looks directly at him, studying his face, those features.. shoulders. "No," she says slowly, "no I haven't," she agrees.

He's a man. All along, she's been dating boys, and boys pretending at being men. But here, now? It's obvious the difference. There's a twinge, however, as she can see shades of Oliver. Or is it shades of Slade in Oliver?

"I.. am not going to answer that because I think you already know the answer." There's a pause as she warms up the teapot first (the proper way to make tea!), and then adds the tealeaves to steep. She does turn around, and looks surprised, "You bake cakes? Really?"

Slade Wilson has posed:
"Never drink alone. Hell, I'll drink to that." He chuckles a little bit at the thought, though ocnsidering that Slade has millions upon millions of dollars in lucrative contract killing work, having his accounts shut down would suddenly eradicate his resourcefulness. Note to self, never forget Valentines Day. Though as Felicity continues to speak, he chuckles a little bit. "I bet you have a mean right hand..and some pretty good ice cream."

Though he smiles. "I'm not allergic to anything. Good genetics." also helps that he's the pinnacle of super soldier, much like Steve Rogers. Though he couldn't help but smile as he's offered the cookie and he accepts it.

He sees that momentary pause as she studies him, and he looks her in the eyes. "No, you haven't." He smiles at her, and as she seems to notice and makes a comment about him baking cakes, he chuckles. "Yeah. It helps me calm down, sometimes. I might still have some PTSD, slows me down sometimes, so cakes kinda help me bring my brain back from reality. I know, just don't tell the other veterans, my reputation would be ruined." he smirks a little bit then.

"Well...hopefully you won't have to eat alone again." He approaches Felicity until he draws close. "If you'll let me."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Finally the tea is ready, and two cups are poured. Nice and warm, steeped and full bodied. She does it with a flourish, and when finished, sets out the cream and sugar cubes. "Right hand is for the enter button," Felicity agrees. It's mean!

She's watching him now, again, and at the acceptance of the cookie, she smiles again and takes one of her own. A soft pull and a crunch goes the cookie, and she cants her head as she considers, her expression softening in the learning of yet another little aspect of the man before her.

"I.. understand that, but I know I can't begin to actually understand it." She knows Oliver's mood swings, and how some of them is just.. from things he simply doesn't talk about with her. "I'll remember that though. And, note to self, keep the cakes to ourselves. Not even on a birthday."

His drawing closer to her doesn't give her the benefit of having something, anything to keep from talking about //feelings// because, well.. there's lots right now, and to act on them? All of them? It'd be a mess of epic proportion. But, she doesn't move, either, and as he approaches, her head rises to watch him, his face. "It'd be nice," she admits softly, "Please, don't make promises," that won't be kept. "Please?" She'll let him, though.

Slade Wilson has posed:
"Not even on a birthday." Slade smiles to Felicity. Slade is selfish with his cakes, though for Felicity? Well, Felicity would probably have a few at her disposal. Though all the same, Slade continues to hum as he seems to chomp down on that cookie, he looks upon her a little bit. "But, honestly? Don't worry. I'm not so bad as to start losing my shit." Slade tells her, hopefully the words are comforting to her.

Hopefully.

PTSD is no joke. Yet, all the same, Slade kept close to Felicity, even as she looks at him. To act on feelings may be messy, sure...but it could be freeing. To leap into the embrace of another. To tell them all of your pains and stresses, all of your loves and losses. Everything. Yet, Slade does not make demands of her. Even as he lifts his hands to her cheeks.

"I don't break my promises Felicity." Slade tells her then, though she can accept or deny the contact. "I keep my promises. and I promise, to be at your side....if you'll only accept me." He questions her, his eye remaining fixed on hers. "Do you accept me?"

Felicity Smoak has posed:
"Well, that's good," is said after mulling it over for a few heartbeats. It seems like forever, these seconds. Time stretches, and in those brief moments, everything and nothing is decided. She hangs in the balance, but if given a thought, his own may as well, even if carefully guarded.

Those hands, though, calloused, instruments of death touch her face, her cheeks, she lifts her hands to hold his wrists. "I want to try this," she says slowly, guardedly. From his wrist, she'll put a hand up to cover his lip with a single finger, "Just show me." No promises. They're too much like New Year Resolutions.

Slade Wilson has posed:
Timing.

Time stretches, and it feels like an eternity. Slade never freezes. -Ever-. Yet, talking to Felicity in this moment is like talking to his reflection, the other side of the coin. Was she hope that he could be more than a killer? Or a reminder that he could never know happiness? Would she turn out like Adaline? The woman who took his eye? Or would she be her own lady, her own woman?

God, questions like these could drive anyone crazy.

Then, before he could say anything else, her hands on his wrists stop his mind from racing, and bring him back to the present. She wants to try this. Them. In this moment, right here. Yet before he could say anything further once more, her finger is found on his lips.

'Show me'.

Strong hands reach to grip Felicity by the back of her legs if she allows, as if to lift her into his arms, his lips seeking out hers in the process. It would appear, that Slade intends to sweep Felicity off of her feet if she lets him. Seems she's not the only one who wants to try this.