Slow Dancing in a Sundrenched World

Oliver thinks she’ll surely give up now, but, instead, she grabs another box much lower on the shelf. He expects her to put it in the nearby cart and walk away dissatisfied, but he’s surprised again when she takes it and leans up toward the one she originally wanted, using what he now sees is a box of Lucky Charms to try to knock it down. He’s impressed by her ingenuity and for a moment, he thinks it might work, but all the girl manages to do is push the desired box even farther back on the shelf. She gives up after a moment, throws her head back and makes a loud sound of frustration.

Oliver is just about to finally go over to help the girl when she suddenly throws the Lucky Charms box at the one on the top shelf—supposedly to try to knock it down. But her aim is bad and instead of hitting the other box, the Lucky Charms hit the metal of the shelf and bounce back at her so fast that she has to duck to avoid them. She stares after them–looking affronted–and Oliver can’t help laughing. The girl must hear him because she turns in his direction, but Oliver manages to step behind the end-cap and out of her view before she spots him. Nonetheless, the reminder that there might be other people around seems to have snapped the girl out of her cereal-induced rage and she looks around timidly.

Still, she doesn’t walk away. Rather, she takes one last look around and then approaches the shelf again. Oliver is just wondering what she could possibly do next when he sees her wrap her hands around the edges of the higher shelves and then firmly set her right foot on a lower shelf, clearly preparing to climb up them. He intends to just watch her, but then Oliver sees the shelves wobble slightly as she hoist herself up to the next level and he knows he has to intervene or this could end in disaster. He approaches her silently, waiting until he’s right behind her before he finally speaks.

“Need a hand?” he asks. The girl whips her head around and freezes, her eyes wild and as she realizes she’s been caught. Oliver struggles not to laugh and then steps toward her, reaches over her to easily grab the box (of Cookie Crisp, of all things) from the top shelf and then steps back. Her eyes follow the box as he does and she stays latched to the front of the shelves for a moment before she starts to climb down.

“Thanks,” she says when she finally sets foot on the ground, her face now flushed with embarrassment. "I probably should have just asked someone for help," she goes on, shuffling nervously and avoiding Oliver's eyes, "but the people who work here make me feel like a little kid asking my parents' for permission. Like, I know it's pure sugar, but that's why it's delicious."

"I hate asking for help too," Oliver says, smiling, and hands her the box. "I've been looking for the ice cream for fifteen minutes."

"I know where that is," she says, perking up and finally looking at him. She looks like she's going to go on, but her face changes as she finally focuses on him and Oliver knows he's been recognized. "Aren't you Oliver Queen?" the girl asks, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Don't you have, like, maids to do your grocery shopping? Is that even what a maid does?" she continues before Oliver has time to answer. "I mean, I've only ever seen maids in movies, so I don't know what they do, but I guess now that I think about it, movies probably aren't that accurate. Movie maids always wear those little black and white dresses and unless your family are sadists or, like, Southern plantation owners, then yours probably don't wear them."

Usually, Oliver would be annoyed, even offended, by all this speculation about his family, but the girl's ramble was so off-hand and genuine that he can't help but be amused by it.

"No, we don't make our people wear uniforms," he says with a smirk and then adds, "unless we're throwing an event."

"Ah," the girl says, nodding sagely.

"And they usually buy groceries, but I'm on the way to a...friend's house," he explains, wondering why he decided not to put the word "girl" in front of "friend."

"Oh, OK, well, um, I'm headed to the freezer aisle if you want to come with," she offers, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "I've gotta replenish my mint chip supply."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that..."

"Felicity," she finishes for him.

Veronica shifts in bed as she remembers that moment. The wig, that...bra... She can't even believe Betty would own something like that. Maybe it's Polly's. Now there's a thought. Betty's never told her exactly what happened between Polly and Jason, but she can tell how much it affects Betty from that pained look she gets on her face anytime anyone mentions her sister. Veronica hates that look. It makes her feel powerless.

Kind of like the powerlessness she'd felt tonight. No matter how hard she tries, she can't help hearing Betty's voice: "Betty couldn't make it, so she sent me instead." Veronica rolls onto her back, lets out a growl of frustration and then squeezes her pillow over her ears. But it can't stop her from remembering that strange thrill she felt in that moment, so similar to the unexpected sense of warmth she'd felt when she'd jokingly kissed Betty.

Chuck had been behind her when Betty had walked in, but when Veronica looked back at him, she saw the same shock she felt written on his face. They tried to go back to the raunchy flirting they'd done before Betty walked in the room, but everything suddenly felt different. The air felt heavy with anticipation and even as Veronica and Chuck moved closer in the jacuzzi, neither of them put much effort into their conversation. They were too busy watching Betty move around the room, wordlessly obeying her every command.

Veronica had felt the situation taking a dangerous turn when she found Betty spiking Chuck's drink, but she hadn't stopped her. Betty's a good girl from a nowhere town, she'd stop herself from crossing a line. If Betty needed to put on a wig and escape the pressure of being herself for once, then Veronica wouldn't stop her. But then things had escalated. Betty had set her shiny black heel on top of Chuck's head and pushed him down into the jacuzzi's scalding water until he'd apologized for what he'd done. That had been alarming enough, but then Betty brought out the maple syrup bottle and things spiraled out of control until Betty was yelling about Polly and Jason and Veronica was begging her to stop. And then it was as if a flip had switched. Betty was back to herself, looking confused and just as shocked as Veronica at what had just happened.

It had frightened Veronica, seeing Betty like that, but the thing that was keeping her awake was that it had excited her too. No one had ever come through for her like that. More often than not, the girls she went to school with in New York had felt more like enemies than friends. But there Betty was, willing to do whatever it took to protect Veronica after just a few rocky weeks of friendship. Well, if that's what you would even call it. "Friendship" seemed inadequate in this case.