Flooring
A/N: for @ohemgeeitscoley for successfully adulting today, I told her I would write 100 words for every page she did. Instead I wrote double that. So enjoy unbetaed, Flommy AU post season 1 where Tommy never died because….because.
With the city rebuilding after the machinations of Malcolm Merlyn had come to pass, Felicity found herself with time to spare. It was a strange feeling, one that she didn’t think she had felt since before she had joined Oliver and John on the team. QC was closed for the next two weeks to ‘give families time together’ so she didn’t have to go to work either.
The giving families time to be together was likely a bullshit excuse to take any heat or notice off of them since Mrs. Queen had admitted to helping Merlyn in the Undertaking, but she was being paid for the two weeks. It wasn’t her place to question two weeks of doing nothing and getting paid for it.
The first few days were easy. She slept in late. Leisurely drank her coffee, binged a few shows, caught up on the books she had read only halfway through before life got difficult. The day that she checked her account balance online and found a few extra zeros where there hadn’t been any before? The day when Oliver left her and John with no word? That was when things started getting difficult.
If Felicity hadn’t been against taking Oliver’s money on principle, she certainly wasn’t going to take any of it as the sort of bribe he was making it out to be. Hush money to keep his secret. Did he really not trust them that much?
So with a hearty middle finger raised to the Oliver, wherever he might be, Felicity started ordering replacement gear for the lair. Tables. Actual computers that she could do things with. Medical supplies, a new bow. All with his money.
There might have been a pair of prada shoes in there too, but that was between her and her credit card statement.
All the supplies were being delivered to Verdant, but staggered in within the rest of the deliveries that Tommy had happening . The goal was that he wouldn’t notice an extra box here or there, which boom, instant plausible deniability!
That hope was shot the night that Tommy intercepted as Felicity tried to use the back alley into Verdant to avoid anyone seeing her.
“Hey, wifi girl,” he called by way of greeting.
He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and gave an easy going shrug. “That was why you were here last time, wasn’t it? To help us set up our wifi for the club?”
Had that been the excuse Oliver had given? “Ummm… yes. At least, I’m pretty sure that was why I was here when you saw me last?” Felicity gave a mental cringe. Like she could be any more obvious about her helping Oliver run his two-man fight against crime from the basement.
This was why she had been trying to sneak in from the back!
“A-huh,” Tommy said dryly. “Sure, Wifi Girl.”
“I have a name, you know,” she snapped.
“As do I, yet technically we’ve never actually been introduced. Even after you started helping Ollie with nighttime activities.” He held out a hand toward her, and instantly the playboy persona was replaced with the shrewd businessman who ran Verdant. “Thomas Merlyn. Though I suspect I’ll want to revert back to a last name with less connotations of evil soon.”
Felicity shifted her purse further up her shoulder and gripped Tommy’s hand. “Felicity Smoak. But I think you knew that.”
WIth a nod, he stepped back and pushed the door into Verdant open. “So, tell me, Felicity. In addition to IT work, do you do flooring?”
He waited for her to go inside before he followed her. “Flooring,” he confirmed. “I have a lot of work to get done before this place can reopen, and given that my business partner is missing, I could use a hand.” Tommy walked to the center the nightclub and gave a grand sort of gesture. “This is currently the only thing in my name though, so I’m afraid I can’t pay you for any of your work. But since you seem to be here on a nightly basis anyway…”
He trailed off, and Felicity appreciated the attempt he made to let her not talk about what she was doing in the basement. She set her purse down on one of the few still standing tables and rubbed her hands together. “I have good news for you then, Tommy. I happen to work at the very affordable price of a bottle of good red.”
“And sold to the pretty woman in the skinny jeans,” he said. “Grab a crowbar and we can get to work!”
