AN: Here is my gift for Olicity Secret Santa 2017, Happy Holidays readers :)

Felicity was a genius with computers, technology, science, math, and all things pop culture. She graduated from MIT with a master's degree in Cybersecurity and Computer Sciences. She was the head of her IT department and in the running for a promotion to lead a new science and technology department. Felicity had a firm understanding on how things worked but, for the life of her, she couldn't comprehend how the fire got started.

If she was honest with herself she probably would have blamed it on the new Doctor Who Christmas special. There wasn't a Whovian alive that would miss a Christmas Special. It was just bad timing; yes, Felicity realized the irony, but she craved her Bubbe's secret latkes recipe that night.

It was Felicity's first Hanukkah without her Bubbe and it felt like she had lost her all over again. Felicity remembered watching her grandmother as she prepared and cooked the food for Hanukkah. The house would fill with laughter as she sung and the delicious smell of homemade food hung in the air. Bubbe had tried to teach Felicity how to cook but soon after quickly dubbed her a kitchen disaster.

Felicity really hadn't felt like celebrating this year but the guilt of disappointing her Bubbe forced her to light the candle, sing her prayers, and attempt to make the beloved latkes.

Everything had been going just as she had planned. Potatoes and onions were prepped with eggs and bread crumbs were seasoned and carefully patted into shape. While she set her new fry pan on the stove for the oil to heat up, the Doctor Who music drifted over from her TV and she rushed over to watch the opening credits. The next thing she knew the house had filled with dark smoke and the loud shrill buzz of her smoke alarm pierced the air.

Felicity rushed into her kitchen just as the hot flames flashed in the burning pan. Without thinking she grabbed the handle of the pan and screamed as her skin made contact with the searing surface. She dropped her grip on the pan and cradled her hand against her chest while her other hand reached for the lid and attempted to cover the growing flames. Suddenly her brain kicked in as she quickly dropped the lid and rushed to the fire extinguisher.

Her right hand throbbed fiercely with the burning pain. Somewhere in her head she knew that the pain was a good thing; pain and feeling meant they were partial thickness burns. Her hand would hurt but she hadn't done serious damage. She tried to hold the extinguisher with her injured hand but quickly found it cumbersome and painful. The flames were hurriedly spreading onto the counter and in a matter of seconds they had engulfed a dishtowel. Her lungs began to burn and her eyes watered from the smoke that quickly filled the small apartment. Felicity pulled the tab on the extinguisher, aimed toward the flames, squeezed the trigger and sweeped the foam over her stove and counter.

Loud banging and raised voices came from the front door and she jumped at the disturbance.

"Star City Fire Department, open up!" a voice bellowed.

Felicity dropped the extinguisher and ran to the door as she cradled her hand. She twisted the lock and pulled the door wide open, coughing deeply as the smoke chased after her. Three large men pushed past her in full firefighter glory and two of them rushed to the kitchen with a large silver extinguisher as the third man grabbed her elbow and lead her from the apartment. He carefully maneuvered her outside and sat her down on the baseboard of the fire engine.

The firefighter made sure she was settled before he removed his helmet and oxygen mask. Felicity saw a flash of bright blue eyes, a strong scruffy jaw and dirty blonde hair before he turned away from her. She tried to thank him but Felicity's throat was dry and burned like knives had pierced through it. As soon as she opened her mouth a violent coughing fit racked her body and she tried to catch her breath.

An oxygen mask was quickly slipped over her head and a large, gentle gloved hand rested on her back.

"Try to take slow breaths through your nose. My name is Oliver, I'm a paramedic. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Felicity's eyes burned and watered so much that she was forced to keep them closed. She nodded and carefully extended her injured hand toward the blurred man that was nothing more than a shape in front of her. He gently took it and inspected her fingers and palm with delicacy. Felicity shivered when his gloved thumb brushed over her pulse.

"Can you wiggle your fingers? Good. I'm going to clean this up and wrap it. It's going to be a rough few weeks, especially if you're right hand dominant. I also need to check and see how your lungs sound. You stopped coughing which is a good sign. The oxygen must be helping, yes?"

His voice was soothing and calm and she felt safe with him among the chaos. Her fear and adrenaline slowly seeped out of her racing heart. He leaned into her personal space, careful not to startle her, and lifted her shirt off her just enough to slip a stethoscope under the soft fabric. Felicity got her first clear look at his face and, completely unprepared, choked on a deep breath. A new round of coughing forced him to sit back as he waited patiently for it to subside. He was gorgeous and could easily be described as a walking fire-fighter fantasy. Meanwhile, here she was, with a singed ponytail, panda slippers, pink flannel pants and a black shirt with a unicorn kitty. Why did this happen to her?

"Are you okay?" he questioned as his eyes ran over with concern.

"Yep, yeah, just feel stupid," She wheezed between coughs.

He smiled and her heart leapt at the dimples that appeared; of course he had dimples. His sexy smile, full lips and soul gazing eyes were just the icing on the cake.

"Seriously, are you really a firefighter? You look more like you play one on TV." Felicity stammered.

He chuckled and she shivered again at the deep sound that rumbled from his chest.

"Thank you? And yes, close to five years now actually. Why don't I get you a blanket? You look a little cold."

He stepped away from her to open a side compartment along the side of the engine. He muttered quietly to himself before he firmly shut it and opened the rear door of the cab. He soon returned with a dark blue pullover hoodie with the fire department logo on the back and station number over the left pocket and O. Queen embroidered over the right.

"Sorry, it looks like the probie forgot to restock the blankets so this will have to do. You seem to be doing a lot better but I think you should go to the hospital to get some chest x-rays just to be on the safe side. Smoke inhalation can lead to pneumonia and all other kinds of problems down the road. Your hand also needs to be checked by a doctor."

"No hospitals. The nurses use needles and I hate needles."

Felicity tugged the oxygen mask off and pulled the large sweatshirt over her blonde head. The delicious smell from the oversized sweatshirt chased away the smoke that lingered around her. Without thinking she snuggled into the shirt and the warmth and comfort it brought. He watched her actions with a half smile and bright eyes.

"It's true most nurses use needles. I'm even known to use them from time to time. I'm actually pretty.."

"Yeah I already know you're pretty." Felicity muttered under her breath, or so she thought.

He smirked, "...ah pretty good at starting IV's. If you want me to do that?"

"No, thank you, you're pretty but not that pretty when it comes to sticking me with needles. Anything else is fine but no needle things." Felicity waved her hand in his direction.

Oliver's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened along with his smile. Felicity's cheeks flushed and her mouth dropped open as her head quickly started to shake back and forth.

"No, no I don't mean. Oh Google. I didn't mean to say or imply. I meant you can umm, stick me with.. Oh god, there is no coming back from that one is there?" He shook his head with a smirk that spread over his entire face and reached his eyes. "Wow, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I don't mind when a beautiful woman propositions me."

"You don't?" She tilted her head and gazed up at him. "Does it happen often?"

"Not nearly as tempting as your offer." Oliver grinned softly.

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls that try to burn down their apartments. Happy Hanukkah to me, here's a fire and a hot firefighter that flirts. My Bubbe would have absolutely loved this. Of course she also would have scolded me for even thinking about going near the stove. I have no idea what I was thinking and I'm rambling, I think, I feel like I'm rambling."

Her teeth started to chatter violently and her body soon began to tremble. Oliver had distracted her from her fear and even the pain in her hand but now the realization that she could have died from trying to cook had began to sink in. Bubbe had been right; she was a complete disaster in the kitchen. Her mind quickly raced through other possible scenarios of death and loss that hurriedly made its way into her heart.

"Hey, shh don't cry. Your neighbor called right away and from the glimpse that I saw the damage should be minimal to the apartment. It might take awhile for the smoke smell to clear out but you are alive. That's a great reason to celebrate Hanukkah."

Oliver gently placed his hand on her shoulder and tucked a few strands of loose hair over her ear. She sniffled, completely unaware that she had been crying until he mentioned it.

"I just miss my Bubbe. It's the first year she's not here and I just wanted to hold on to one of her favorite traditions. Instead I set fire to my stove and make even more of a mess. So stupid."

"I'm sorry for your loss. What were you trying to do?"

"Make her latkes. You know the potato fried pancakes? She loved them and I just wanted to make them for her."

"Do you have her recipe?" Oliver asked as he rubbed her arms to help try and fight the chills that racked her body.

"I have it on my phone, why?"

"I can make them for you. I am a fantastic cook and, well if you're not going to the hospital, then someone needs to keep an eye on you."

"What!? Oh, no, you don't have to do that. Aren't you working?" Felicity was floored that this guy would even offer to do something like that.

"You can come back to the firehouse. My crew won't mind as long as they get to eat some too. It's not like you can go back inside tonight. I'd give it a few hours before you try and see the damage. You have insurance right? I can help you with the report if you want too."

"Really? Are you always this nice?"

"Are you always this hard to ask out?"

"Wait, you're asking me out?"

"Well. I'm asking you to let me cook for you, and spend more time getting to know you, so I would think the implication is there."

"Why?" There's no way this happens to her. He had to be joking.

"Why not? You have made me laugh more in the last twenty minutes then I have in weeks. I want to hear more about your Bubbe. It's also not about seeing what you will let me stick in you, just so you know, though we can always revisit that." He grinned at the flush that appeared on her face. "I'd really like to talk with you more and make sure you are okay. You shouldn't be sad on the Holidays. If I can make you smile for one night then its the only gift I'll want this year."

"You're serious?" He smiled softly again and nodded.

"Why not? Do you have any other plans tonight? I mean, unless you have a boyfriend?"

"No plans and no boyfriend. If you're sure then I'm sure."

"I'm sure."

A few hours later Felicity got her first taste of Oliver's rendition of Bubbe's secret latkes and she was in pure bliss. She told him there was no way he would ever get rid of her now and he chuckled and retorted that he wasn't trying to. A year later they celebrated their first Hanukkah together and Oliver proposed with a diamond ring placed on a plateful of the treasured latkes.