A/N: Just a quick little one-shot of Felicity's POV on how she met Oliver Queen. :) I hope you guys like it and I hope I did Felicity: MIT Class of '05 justice!

My name is Felicity Smoak. For five years, I've worked for Queen Consolidated in the IT department, having been hired by them right after I graduated early from MIT summa cum laude. My life isn't all that interesting, really. The only interesting thing was my dad left my mom and me when I was really young and I've been building computers since I was seven years old. My life is sometimes frustrating, I mean, how hard is it to fix a frozen computer, guys, especially if most of the time, you just need to reboot it? But I still find that my life is… satisfactory.

I opened my closet, looking at the clothes that were hung before me. What to wear today… Well, it's not like I had anyone to impress, but hey, no harm in wanting to look good.

I grabbed a simple white undershirt, throwing it over my bra-clad torso. I picked out a light pink button up blouse, before deciding on a simple black pencil skirt. I picked out a pair of black kitten heels, throwing them on.

I looked at my full-length mirror as I tied my hair up into its usual ponytail. There. Simple and professional.

I gave a satisfactory smile before grabbing my bag, leaving my apartment. I locked the door behind me, heading downstairs and into the garage, where my car was parked. I slid into the car easily, before driving off to Queen Consolidated.

It didn't take me long to get to work. I lived about fifteen minutes away from the place by car. When I entered the underground parking, the security guard, Josh, simply waved me in without me needing to flash my badge. I gave him a smile as I passed before finding a parking spot.

I left my car, also locking that, before heading to the elevator that would lead me to the floor the IT Department rested on.

"Morning, Ben," I greeted the security guard that I passed by every day.

"Morning, Felicity," Ben smiled pack, tilting his head. He was a nice man. Despite looking quite old (he's actually fifty-two), he was probably fitter than most of the twenty-something-year-olds that worked here at Queen Consolidated. He had black hair that was sprinkled with some white, and was always cleanly shaven.

After clocking in, I headed into my office, which was a lot better than the cubicle I started out with five years ago. Not to brag or anything, but I was pretty sure I was on my way to eventually becoming the head of the IT Department before I was thirty. I was, after all, promoted multiple times in the past five years.

I spotted a manila folder on my desk and grabbed it, opening it. There was a note from my supervisor about upgrading the systems of the computers at Queen Consolidated. Well… that didn't seem too hard. I just hope it would be a bit more people-friendly.

I had come to realize over the years that while computers and I worked very well together, other people and computers didn't. Which sucked, because computers are the best thing ever. They don't tell lies, they can't betray you (though I've never been personally betrayed before… does my father leaving when I was a kid count?), and they're always looking for ways to better themselves (through an upgrade).

I typed away on my keyboard, the zeroes and ones flying at me, but making perfect sense to me as though I was reading in English. Actually, I analyze binary code a lot better than I did my English homework. I always did prefer math and science, but that didn't mean I didn't like English and history… it was just… I don't know. Math and science are so practical while English and history could be right and wrong at the same time, and I didn't like that. I just like being right.

I grabbed a pink pen that was on my desk, making a note on the files before me as I worked, trying to keep it simple enough for not just me, but for everyone else in the IT Department to understand. Sometimes, I don't even know how half of these guys got hired.

My nose scrunched in displeasure when I hit a road bump that stopped me from my work, but it only took a couple extra seconds to solve the problem. Hopefully, the programming would be done by the end of this week and we could actually get started on the development.

My work phone began to ring, and I picked it up instantly, placing it next to my ear. I cradled the object on the crook of my shoulder, drawling out, "IT Department."

"My computer has been stuck on a program and I can't minimize it to work on my other stuff," the person on the other end complained. "How can I fix it?"

"Have you tried turning it on and then off?" I asked routinely.

"… No."

"Try that, and if the problem continues, we'll send someone to fix it up," I replied before hanging up.

I moved the pen that was in my mouth up and down, concentrating on the work before me.

I was still working on that new program that would help the computers at Queen Consolidated run much more efficiently… well, the other computers besides mine. Mine's completely efficient. Not that QC's computers aren't efficient. Well, they kind of are lacking in the booting speed, but it's not that bad, I mean, there are lots of computers out there in this world that – I'm gonna stop now.

I turned to look at the file on my desk. It had the records of pretty much every computer in the building and its performance and how they've been doing. I made a little note on the paper before placing the pen back into my mouth, messing around with it.

The sound of a throat clearing had me turning around, just as a voice questioned, "Felicity Smoak?" To prevent the pen from falling out of my mouth stupidly, I took it out before I started gaping at the owner of the voice stupidly.

The magazines and news channels did not do this man justice.

He was tall, definitely over six feet tall, maybe six-one. He had short, cropped, dirty blond hair and very light traces of facial hair. His blue eyes were focused on me, looking like a light shade, whether it was actually that shade or it was because of his dark clothing.

He was dressed in a black, v-neck long sleeve, which fit his broad frame incredibly well. He had a grey t-shirt underneath his long sleeve, I guess in case he got too hot and wanted to take it off. He was also wearing a pair of loose jeans – no doubt designer – actually, everything probably was – and to finish his ensemble off, a pair of black boots.

"Hi," he said when I said nothing. "I'm Oliver Queen." Right. He needed something.

"Of course," I said lamely. "I know who you are, you're Mr. Queen." Duh.

"No," he quickly rejected. "Mr. Queen was my father."

"Right, but he's dead," I countered. "I mean, he drowned. But you didn't, which means you could come down to the IT Department…" Oh shit, shut up, Felicity. I nervously tapped the back of my pen against my desk. I sure hope I didn't get fired for this. I'm sorry for complaining about the people on the fifteenth floor. I'll never do it again, please, let me keep my job. "… And listen to me babble…"

I was going to lose my job. Crap. Is Wayne Enterprises still hiring?

"Which will end," I sighed heavily, hanging on to that sliver of hope I had. "In three, two, one…"

Right on cue, Mr. Queen pulled out a laptop from behind his back, keeping back a small smirk of amusement. "I'm having some trouble with my computer and they told me that you were the person to come and see," he revealed.

He placed the laptop on my desk and I placed my right hand on it, attempting to soothe the poor thing. Oh, baby, what happened to you?

"I was at my coffee shop surfing the web and I spilled a latte on it," Mr. Queen informed me.

No way. "Really?" I gave him a look of disbelief.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

Well, since I'm getting fired, might as well do it thoroughly. "Because these look like bullet holes," I pointed out, touching one of the holes on the top of the laptop.

"My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood," Mr. Queen supplied. Yeah… I don't think so, buddy. Not that he's my buddy or anything. It's just an expression. Well, I'm not saying it's a bad thing he's my buddy, oh God, that sounded really weird. Shutting up in three, two, one...

I tilted my head to the side, not believing his story one bit. He just threw me a charming smile which was obviously the downfall of the many notches on his bedpost.

"If there is anything that you can salvage from it… I would really appreciate it," he told me.

Maybe if I did this, I'd keep my job. I nodded, deciding not to ask any more questions. Not asking any more questions was good. "Mm-hm," I confirmed. I could do that.

I saved the work I was doing before hooking up the laptop to my desktop. All the damage was just done to the screen, so since the hard drive wasn't damaged in anyway.

As I typed away on my keyboard, I could hear the billionaire grab a seat and sit next to me, but a little bit behind me so he didn't get in the way of my work. I was thankful for that. I didn't like it when people were breathing down my neck as I worked.

The recovery took no more than a couple of minutes, and soon, I had everything recovered, which wasn't much. It was just a map of a building, a very familiar building.

"It looks like blueprints," I informed.

"Do you know what of?" Mr. Queen inquired.

I looked at the billionaire and said, "The Exchange Building."

"Never heard of it," he shook his head.

I took a breath before explaining, "It's where the Unidac Industries auction is schedules to take place." He simple narrowed his eyes blankly. "I thought you said this was your laptop."

"Yes," the playboy extraordinaire confirmed.

Ah, I see what was going on. "Look, I don't wanna get in the middle of some Shakespearean family drama thing."

His eyes darted from the computer screen to me, back to the screen, and then back to me. "What?"

"Mr. Steele marrying your mom," I supplied. He gave a slow nod, silently telling me to continue. "Claudius, Gertrude, Hamlet…" I gave him.

"I didn't study Shakespeare at any of the four schools that I dropped out of," Mr. Queen told me.

Okay, then. "Mr. Steele is trying to buy Unidac Industries," I explained. "And you've got a company laptop associated with one of the guys he's competing against."

"Floyd Lawton," he interrupted.

"No," I shook my head. "Warren Patel." I pointed at my screen, which clearly showed the name of the owner of the laptop in the top right corner. "Who's Floyd Lawton?"

"He is… an employee of Mr. Patel, evidently," he said, turning back to the screen. He was suddenly stiff, and I wondered just what I had gotten myself mixed into. I nodded blankly, unsure of what to say.

"Could you transfer it all onto this flash drive for me?" Mr. Queen asked, taking out a small USB from his pocket.

"Sure, no problem," I said, taking the device from his hand. I moved the file quickly onto the blank flash drive, before unplugging the laptop from my computer. I gave back the two devices, and said, "Here you go, Mr. Queen."

"Please," Mr. Queen said, taking the laptop and flash drive. "Call me Oliver. Thank you very much for your help, Felicity."

"It's no problem," I replied. "It really wasn't. Only the screen was broken, not the hard drive, which made recovering the files incredibly easy. It's easier than tying shoes, well, not that I'm wearing any. Shoes kind of don't go with this ensemble…" I gestured to my simple blouse and pencil skirt

Mr. Queen… Oliver, was simply just waiting for me to finish.

"I'm just going to shut up now in three, two, one…" I said, exhaling deeply.

"Well, thank you, again, Felicity," Oliver said, resting a hand on my shoulder. "I appreciate your help. You have a nice day."

"You too," I said before he left the room, taking the tension with him.

I exhaled in relief. I guess I was going to keep my job. Good. I like my job.

A/N: Drop a review and tell me how I did! :D