So this is a little teaser (the opening scene) to my latest fic, which is a WIP & When The Sun Goes Down is just the working title — since I usually don’t name my Olicity fics until they’re done.
This was inspired by a little tease Stephen Amell made in his 400K Q&A Part 1 video (search his Facebook for it if you haven’t seen it). He was asked what his favourite scene is, and part of his response was “It takes place in ep. 12, after a gigantic explosion.” (I bet you all the die-hard fans started thinking about what the scene actually has in it.) And after talking with @CammienRay & @OlicityLovers (who I dedicate the whole story to!) on Twitter about it, this fic came to life.
It’s set around the time of Arrow Season 2 Episode 12, ‘Tremors’. Now, since there’s no known information about that episode (except Stephen’s comment), I’ve taken full creative license on the case they’re working on.
The full story will be posted sometime soon. Not gonna promise a date or anything, because I don’t know when I will!
But in the meantime, enjoy this. Comment afterwards — on here, but also on Twitter (I’m @LandJrule).
She frantically works on disabling it and I anxiously pace as I keep an eye out for anyone who tries to stop us.
“I… I… hang on,” she replies.
There’s a click and she exclaims a triumphant ‘Ah-HUH!’ – I smirk, knowing she’s doing that cute fist air pump she always does. But then she groans, before muttering, “Oh, come on!”
I spin to look at her, instantly seeing her brow furrowed in a frown. I look at the timer – five minutes. If we don’t get this disabled…
“Talk to me, Felicity.”
“Uh… I… I don’t know! I’ve tried everything to stop it, but… I can’t get it to stop. Either I’m cutting the wrong wires, or this is one hell of a complicated designed bomb.”
“Hey,” I whisper, couching beside her as I place a hand on her shoulder. “Stay calm. I trust that you can stop this.”
She looks at me, and gulps. “And if I don’t?”
I squeeze her shoulder. “Leave it to me.”
She meekly smiles, eyes full of worry. She turns her attention back to the wires and screen on the bomb in front of her. Two and a half minutes to go.
She sighs. “There’s only one option left.”
She looks at me. “Be ready to get us out of here quickly. This might not work.”
“I’m always ready. Just do it.”
She gulps as she turns back to the bomb. She then reaches into the space where she’s been working, grabs fist-fulls of wires, and —
Yanks them all out.
The timer stops – 1 minute, 30 seconds left. We smile, both looking to the other as we laugh in relief.
Then it beeps, and we both whip our heads towards it. It’s working again. Faster.
“Crap,” she mutters.
I grab her arm, and pull her to her feet – she yelps, grabbing her tablet. I keep a hold on her arm as we run towards the windows. I hook my arm round her waist, pulling her against me. I spin us, shielding her as best I can as we smash through one of the windows.
We’re barely through when the bomb explodes.
Well, there you go! That’s all for now!