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[November 1999]

I can’t believe we’re living here.
This place feels like a hospital or a rest home or somewhere you just go to give up on ever being smart. Mom says I’m been dramatic, takes one to know one.

Felicity scowled at her mother from the backseat of their loaded up Ford Explorer as she folded the pen into her Spice Girls journal and heaved a melodramatic sigh.

They were moving to Starling City and the drive across however many miles it was – she would count them later – had been anything by idyllic. At 10 years old Felicity understood a lot about the workings of things that made senses, zeros and ones, circuit boards, trigonometry – those sorts of things – but she had absolutely no understanding why anyone would want to live in Starling City.

She had done her research. The rich grew richer and the poor grew poorer. There was a great divide in this City and the growing social awareness she was developing from watching an obscene amount of social-activist documentaries meant she didn’t wish to be a part of it.

Or she was sulking because she had to leave most of her collection of computer bits in a Las Vegas storage facility. Either way, she hated Starling already.

The car pulled into the driveway of a gated community, typically letting out a splutter that sounded like it might just die right there and then.

Her mother, primed to the nines after stopping at a rest stop along the way to make sure she had the correct amount of mascara applied – Felicity decided it was 8 coats apparently – fidgeted nervously in the front seat. Felicity wanted to stay mad at her a little longer but when Donna Smoak turned and offered her daughter a 100watt smile, Felicity couldn’t help but smile back.

After her father gave everything but his social security number to the gate attendent, the polished brass gates peeled open like the start of some fairy tale movie and Felicity went back to scowling.

The street was lined with trees that stood, not a leaf out of place. The houses were ridiculous and Felicity was sure that their tiny town house in Vegas could fit five times over in even the smaller ones here. Characteristically, she made a mental note to ensure she did the math on that assumption once she found her calculator.

Her parents had told her the bare minimum, her father had been offered a job – a great job – at a leading company, Queen Consolidated (a globally recognised company with its fingers in multiple pies, and a share pricing that was quite impressive – Felicity looked it up) and with the said job came a house; and when the car pulled to a stop in the driveway of number 2551 Verdant Estate Road it became abundantly clear that said job came with a very nice house.

It was huge, to the point where Felicity had to press her forehead to the window pane to see the start of the roofline. Two stories of stupidly large house.

“This is it?” Felicity gaped, trying not too sound impressed but she was 10 and the house was huge.
“This is home, for the time being,” Noah remarked as he opened the door without removing the keys, the annoying ding, ding, ding forcing Felicity to unbuckle and leave the car too.

“The CEO owns the house, says it was sitting here empty so he’s renting it out to us until we can find something a little more permanent.”
“If this,” Felicity spoke as she slammed the car door and pushed her glasses further up her nose “is their investment property, then what the heck does their own house look like?”

Noah cracked a smile as he patted his young daughter’s shoulder.
“A lot like that one,” he winked pointing to the house next door.

It was set a little further back from the road, with a driveway that had its own gate – which seemed overkill to Felicity given they were in a gated community. The styles were similar, but the second house was larger and more regal in its architecture. Where their “for now” house had modern and squared features, the other house wore more distinguished Colonial features.

“Actually, exactly like that one,” he corrected with a light chuckle.
Felicity made the random realisation in that moment that she had never actually heard a raucous laugh from her dad and her young ever-challenging mind was trying to decide what that tip over from chuckle to resounding belly laugh might take.

“Where do they live?” Donna asked, the sub plot going over her head completely.
“He means it is that house mom,” Felicity sighed with half an eye roll which Noah halted with a terse lip, “We’re living next door to dad’s boss’ house.”

“In suburban hell,” she added with a flare of snark, her fingers waving lines in the air as she made ghost-like sounds.
“You have got to stop letting her watch those shows with you, what ten year old talks like that?” Donna smiled as she playfully tugged Felicity’s mousey blonde ponytail.

Felicity swatted her hand away as she stared up at the peak of the house pointing ominously, in her opinion, into the cloudless blue sky.

I can’t believe we’re living here.



It had been a few days and the house didn’t appear to get any smaller to her young eyes. It still seemed way too much house and with the minimal amount of furniture that had come up from Vegas everything simply seemed to echo. Felicity would start school after the weekend, a fact which – in a social sense, terrified her.

The ‘Boss’ had come by the night they moved in. To Felicity – as far as adults went, they seemed nice enough. They had come with their young daughter Thea, who was all large eyes and expressive stare and very little else, but the small 5 year old latched onto Felicity’s side and made herself at home there. They had another child, a boy, but he was MIA. Felicity had already decided he was probably annoying. In her limited experience, all boys were.

On this late afternoon Felicity found herself outside, her mess of hair piled onto the top of her head as she hunched over a plastic table and scoured over the selection of “I’m not leaving Vegas without these” computer parts.

“What are you doing?” a soft voice with a thread of resonating depth asked from a distance.
Felicity looked up and was met with a mop of blonde hair, lighter than her own, and the most brilliantly blue eyes she’d ever come across staring over the fence at her.

She coughed, aware she was awkwardly not blinking, before she found words to say.
“My mother says I needed fresh air, so this counts,” she replied, dropping her eyes forcefully back down to the table.

“You’re weird,” Oliver chuckled his shoulder peeking over the fence.
“Thank you for remarking on it,” Felicity gritted, she was right, boys were annoying.
“You’re the first person to ever say that,” she grimaced with a sarcastic flinch of a smile as she blinked back up at the intruder.

“I didn’t mean it like a bad thing, I happen to think weird is better than boring,” Oliver shrugged as he effortlessly pulled himself over the fence and landed with his Air Jordans on Felicity’s back lawn with a bright smile, his hands brushing down the front of his faded jeans.

Felicity stepped back from the table, her eyes widening at his sudden encroachment.
“Sorry, I’m Oliver, I live next door,” he shrugged “my parents said I needed to say hi.”
“By climbing the fence?”
“They probably meant by ringing the doorbell,” Oliver wandered over to her table of parts, oblivious to Felicity’s discomfort, and picked up a power supply, waving it like it was something completely foreign to him “but I saw you playing with this junk and..."

“It’s not junk,” Felicity retorted as she stepped forward and took the power supply from Oliver’s hand.
“Sorry,” he shrugged, his rugged charm making Felicity smile despite that fact she was utterly annoyed by him in every way.

“Lisa is it?” he muttered as he picked up a sound card flipped it back and forth, undeterred by the glare Felicity was launching in his direction.
“Felicity,” she snapped, yanking the second component from his hands.

He smiled, a killingly debonair smile that suddenly made every wrong he had done against her melt away like ice in the Florida summer.
“Felicity,” she peeped as she placed the sound card back onto the table, “that’s my name.”
“It’s very nice to meet you Fe-li-city,” he grinned, his impeccably straight and white teeth ‘singing’ like a chorus of angels.

She almost giggled.
Felicity Smoak never giggled. Life was far too serious for giggling.

“What’s that smell?” he asked, his nose twitching up, pulling taunt his already perfect jawline.
“Ah, meatloaf,” Felicity replied as her hands nervously rolled over one another, “the first Thursday of every month my Mom makes it."

“What’s meatloaf?” Oliver asked, his eyes tracking down to the little whip of a girl who was carrying herself like a mini adult.
“You’ve never had meatloaf?” she snorted.
Oliver shrugged, in his 14 years he could safely say he never remembered eating anything called meatloaf.

“What time do you eat?”
Felicity met his question with a tugged eyebrow, “About six.”
“Okay, so I’ll come back then,” he smiled as he walked back towards the fence

“I’ll even ring the doorbell this time,” he winked before he lifted himself back over the fence and casually strolled away.

Felicity was left with a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach as she tapped on the arm of her glasses and tried to work out what had just happened.

But all her brain told her was boys were annoying, even ones with amazingly blue eyes and smiles that make you forget why you were mad.

She turned to look at the house, down to the table and over to the fence with her index finger extended into the air, hovering in the hopes it would help her find something to say, but Oliver was already gone and she was just standing there looking back and forth between the house and the fence.



So, that’s all you get for now folks.


Thank you xox

If you have any questions/comments/ideas/whatever feel free to pop them in the comments section or look me up on Twitter or Tumblr @someonesaidcake

Don't worry the runner up will be written (find “Brace for Impact” here



Mood: light, funny, awkward, I will probably make you cry, what’s the word when two people are so damn clueless that you just want to hit them in the back of the head and just say OMG KISS FFS..that, angst, fluff, domestic fluff, sexual exploration, childhood.

Oliver: Senior!Oliver blossoms from drunk, womanizing frat boy to don’t-look-at-her-that-way Protective!Oliver, a little clueless, a lot sexy
Felicity: will probably be drunk at least once, witty, a little snarky, smart, trying to rebel just enough to make college interesting

Warnings: I might ‘ruin’ meatloaf for you, may be a little underage stuff

Song Inspiration: Kiss Me ~ Ed Sheeran

I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet
And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

Kiss me like you wanna be loved
You wanna be loved
You wanna be loved
This feels like falling in love
Falling in love
We're falling in love