"You have to get her out of here. I need her gone."

"I understand she can be a little difficult—"

"A little?! That little brat emptied out my bank account! I should be pressing charges!"

Felicity rolled her eyes at the yelling coming from the other room. Only adults would ask for privacy and then proceed to scream loudly enough for her to hear them anyway. She wasn't sure what more needed to be said. Her foster family didn't want her anymore and she couldn't say she wasn't eager to get out of there as well.

This stay was shorter than most, but nothing out of the ordinary for Felicity Smoak. She'd been in the system since she was seven and she'd never stayed with a family for more than six months. The month and three days she'd spent with the Ramsey's had been more than enough for her to assess things and decide she was better off anywhere else. She was always better off anywhere else.

The door opened and Mrs. Ramsey walked out, arms crossed tightly across her chest. She might have been a pretty woman at one point, but time and the scowl permanently etched across her face had taken their toll. Deep fissures marked her pale skin, making her look older than the fifty years she claimed to be, and the fifty-two years she actually was according to her online records.

A thin black woman followed her out of the kitchen, her face set equally as firm as Mrs. Ramsey's, but somehow still holding a warmth Felicity had come to expect from the woman. Emerald Johannes had been her caseworker for as long as she could remember. She wasn't much younger than Mrs. Ramsey, but her wide brown eyes and easy temperament made her seem decades younger.

She turned those wide brown eyes on Felicity where she sat slumped on the couch. The Ramsey's cat slept beside her and Felicity knew better than to accidentally wake him. She had the claw marks on her forearm to prove it.

"Get your stuff, Felicity," Emerald said, moving towards the door. "We're leaving."

Not needing to be told twice, Felicity jumped up, grabbing her backpack from the floor beside her. It was the only thing she came with and it was the only thing she'd leave with. Despite Mrs. Ramsey's assumptions, Felicity was no thief.

Emerald led her outside to an old Honda Civic in the driveway. Felicity didn't bother to look back at the house or the Ramseys, who were probably watching her from the windows. She knew at least Mrs. Ramsey would be. Probably to make sure she was really gone. That woman was a real piece of work.

"Mrs. Ramsey's exaggerating," she said, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling her seat belt.

"Did you or did you not hack into her bank account?"

Pressing her lips together, Felicity glanced away. Emerald knew her too well at this point for lying to work, and, besides, Felicity had never been very good at it.

"It was just a little money," she said at last. "Just enough to teach her a lesson. And I donated it to a good cause."

"Felicity." Her social worker sighed in exasperation. "You can't keep doing these things. You're fifteen years old now and it's only a matter of time before someone really does call the cops. You don't have the cute, rambunctious, prodigy child excuse in your pocket anymore. You could end up in jail and there won't be anything left for me to do about it."

Felicity grit her teeth, but didn't respond otherwise. She didn't want to fight with Emerald. What she wanted was to be eighteen already, to age out of the foster care system, and to never have to depend on anyone else ever again.

"Back to the group home then?" she asked, staring out the window as Emerald pulled out of the driveway.

"No, actually." She spun the wheel, turning out of the Ramseys' neighborhood and back towards Starling City. "There's a family I can place you with."

"Ugh."

Emerald cut a look toward her that made Felicity think of the phrase 'if looks could kill' . "Don't start, Felicity. Especially not with these people."

That piqued Felicity's interest and she found herself turning toward Emerald. "Why? Who are they? Is it, like, a senator or something?"

"No, but they are very wealthy and have a lot of power in this city. So just... try to be on your best behavior and I'll find you someplace a little better suited for your… temperament."

Felicity crossed her arms. "Better suited? You don't think I can hack it with the city's rich and privileged?" She grinned, pleased with her own little joke. "Get it? Hack it?"

"I think I've known you nearly a decade." Emerald turned to her, a small smile playing on her lips. The first one all day. "You don't play well with others, Felicity. You especially don't play well with people like this."

"So why place me with them at all?"

Emerald sighed, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "Because my supervisor was in the room when I got the call from Ramsey and she's making me. I guess Moira Queen got it in her head that becoming a foster family is good for publicity. I interviewed her myself though, and she doesn't want to help a child. She seems to think it's just another one of her charities where she can show up once, throw some money and a few nice sound bites around, and be done. She doesn't understand the responsibility."

"Neither do most of the family's you've placed me with," Felicity murmured under her breath.

Emerald sighed again, cutting her a look, but didn't comment on that.

"Anyway, I'm glad it's you, in a way. You're old enough not to care about being ignored by these people for a day or two. Then, hopefully, she'll drop out of the program as soon as I move you. She'll get to tell her friends how she fostered a poor and underprivileged" —she turned to Felicity with an eye roll— "teenager for a day and I don't have to get an earful from my boss for refusing to place anyone with her."

"So what you're saying is it's actually a good thing I hacked into Mrs. Ramsey's bank account?"

A small smile turned up the corner of Emerald's mouth. "Don't push it."

###

The house Emerald pulled up in front of— Scratch that. It wasn't a house, it was a freaking castle. Like a real, honest to goodness castle. Felicity had never seen anything like it.

"This is where I'm staying?" Felicity asked, wide-eyed as she climbed out of the car.

"Only for a few days. The weekend, at most."

Emerald slammed her door shut, prompting Felicity to reach back in and grab her backpack out of the backseat, before doing the same. She hooked the bag over her shoulder and followed Emerald up to the front door.

"I told her it was an emergency placement. Short term," she said, using the door knocker to announce their arrival. She turned to Felicity with a hard look in her eyes. "You need to be on your best behavior though, Felicity. I'm not kidding. My supervisor needs us to make a good impression on this woman, okay? For me?"

Everything in Felicity revolted against the idea of kowtowing to some rich jerks just because they were… well, rich. But Emerald was pleading with her and she'd never seen her do that before. So even though it rubbed her the wrong way, she dipped her chin in a slight nod then turned just in time for a woman in a plain grey uniform to open the door.

"You must be Ms. Johannes," the woman said with a light accent and a wide smile. "Mrs. Queen is waiting for you in the sitting room."

The woman turned, motioning for them to follow her deeper into the house. Felicity's eyes darted back and forth, taking in as much as she could. She'd never in her life been anywhere so fancy. Polished marble floors, rich wooden accents, a grand staircase that twisted up to the second floor. But it didn't feel like a home and Felicity would know. She'd moved from home to home more than your average kid. Even Miss Mitchell, who made no secret of the fact that she was only fostering for the monthly checks, made her house feel somewhat homey for the kids who stayed there. This felt more like a hotel. Or maybe a museum, what with the artwork displayed everywhere. Felicity was afraid to touch anything for fear a security guard might pop out from around a corner and throw her out on her butt.

"Mrs. Queen," the uniformed woman called as they entered the sitting room. A blonde woman was seated on the couch and turned to face them with a thin smile. No doubt Moira Queen. "Ms. Johannes has arrived."

"Thank you, Raisa," Moira Queen said, each word somehow measured and imposing. She motioned to the couch across from her, another thin smile gracing her face. "Please, sit."

Emerald took the lead, sitting across from Mrs. Queen and giving Felicity a hard look to sit beside her. She did, not wanting to give Emerald another reason to be pissed at her today.

"Ms. Johannes, it's nice to see you again," the woman said, then turned to Felicity. "And you must be Felicity."

Felicity gave her own thin smile. "It's nice to meet you."

She'd been through this a hundred times. The awkward first meeting, the churning in her gut that begged her to run. Run away and find a place where she never had to fake a smile for some adult who was just going to be a passing blur in the rear view mirror of Felicity's life.

"Welcome to our home. I'm sorry the whole family isn't here to greet you. My husband, Robert, is at the office and the children are still at school. My son is around your age." She grinned again as if that were a selling point. "He's a junior at Starling Prep."

Of course he was. Starling Prep was only the best private school in the city, so why wouldn't this woman's kids go there. Felicity had been shopping around recently at her school counselor's behest. Apparently, schools like Starling Prep looked better on college applications than public school and Mr. Phillips wanted her to apply for a scholarship next year.

"Mrs. Queen, thank you for responding on such short notice. Like I said on the phone, it shouldn't be for more than a few days until I find something more permanent."

"No rush at all. We have so much, the least we can do is give back to those less fortunate."

She said that last part with a self-satisfied grin in Felicity's direction. Felicity's jaw tensed, her teeth grinding together. This woman was incredibly out of touch at best, flagrantly arrogant at worst. Glancing over, she saw Emerald's jaw tick as well.

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Queen. I'll be in touch tomorrow." She turned to Felicity, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

It was the same question she asked every time. Every time she left her at a stranger's house since she was seven years old. You okay? The words rattled through her head, shaking loose memories better off forgotten. Felicity shook it off and answered the same way she always had.

"I'm fine."

She wasn't anymore fine than she had been at seven, but she was used to it now. The un-fineness. The being forced to depend on strangers who didn't know her and didn't care about her. The constant ache of being alone in the world, even when she was surrounded by people.

"Call if you need anything," Emerald said softly, then smiled, stood, and left Felicity sitting in a stranger's living room.

Moira Queen smiled. "Raisa will show you to your room, dear. Do you need someone to help you with the rest of your things?"

"No, it's just this," she said, patting the backpack by her feet.

"Oh," Moira said, smile falling just a fraction. Felicity refused to let her reaction get to her. This woman had no idea what it was like in the real world. She was probably the type of person to pack five suitcases for an overnight trip, how could she possibly understand Felicity's life?

"Come, Miss Felicity," the woman in the grey uniform said from the doorway. "Your room is upstairs next to Miss Thea's."

###

Felicity stayed in her room until mid afternoon, despite Raisa offering to give her a tour of the house.

The maid was a sweet woman, Felicity had come to find in her short time speaking with her. She'd had nothing but kind things to say about the Queen kids, Oliver and Thea. And nothing bad to say about Moira or her husband Robert either. Moira Queen on the other hand hadn't made a reappearance since Felicity had been delivered to her room.

Which… wasn't surprising in the least.

Over the course of the morning she'd done her research on the Queen family. She'd hacked the Queens' wifi easily enough, granting her access to the internet. Her tablet may have been an old hand me down from a former foster family, but Felicity had upgraded it well enough that it could handle all of her needs.

From what she'd found out, Moira was pretty much exactly what Emerald had described in the car: a woman with too much time and money who spent her days making herself feel important by donating to endless charities. Robert Queen was the CEO of Queen Consolidated, something Felicity had already known just by way of keeping up on Wired. Oliver Queen, the oldest child, was sixteen with abysmal grades in both algebra and science. The youngest, Thea, was only ten and Felicity hadn't dug much deeper on her then the few pictures she'd found when searching the family.

Around four o'clock she decided that no matter how nice the room was—and oh man was it nice. Large with its own private bathroom, something Felicity had never experienced before, and a bed so soft she'd actually dozed off for a few minutes while researching—she needed to look around.

The house was quiet as she stepped out into the hallway, despite the fact that the Queen kids must be home from school already. Though, it was probably a large enough house that the family could go days without seeing each other if they wanted. Felicity, wielding her trusty tablet, made her way downstairs to see if she could find the kitchen.

Five minutes later she was really starting to regret not letting Raisa give her that tour.

"Hey!"

Felicity jumped, her sneakers squeaking loudly on the shiny marble as she turned on her heel to see a boy, eyebrows raised, standing behind her. Her hand flew to her chest and she blew out a breath to try to calm her racing heart.

"Give a girl a little warning next time, jeez."

The boy was still standing there, looking at her like she had two heads. Even if Felicity hadn't seen pictures of him while researching the family, she'd recognize him as Oliver Queen in a heartbeat. There was just something about him that screamed rich and entitled.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He was still wearing his school uniform, a white button down underneath a blue blazer, a red Starling Prep insignia on the right breast.

She supposed he was cute in a preppy, rich kid kind of way.

"Look," he said, stepping closer, "I don't know how you got in here and I'm flattered, I really am, but I'm not interested, alright? So why don't you get out of here before my mom sees you."

Was he… Was he actually accusing her of breaking into his house to see him ?

"Wow. Arrogance runs in the family, I see," she deadpanned, waving her tablet in his direction.

"Huh?" he muttered intelligently as his brows furrowed over his pretty, but vapid blue eyes.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm Felicity. I'm staying here for a couple of days. Your mom didn't tell you?"

He watched her for another moment before something clicked and recognition lit his face. "Oh, you're the foster girl." He gave her a slow once over before meeting her eyes. "I thought you'd be younger."

Gritting her teeth behind a smile, Felicity shrugged and changed the subject. She really was getting hungry and the last thing she needed was hanger making its way into this conversation. "I was looking for the kitchen."

"Wrong hallway." Oliver nodded behind him, back the way she'd come. "Follow me. I'll show you."

"I think I can manage." She pushed passed him, moving in the direction he'd indicated. "Thanks."

She did manage to find the kitchen — this "house" was a labyrinth — only to have Raisa tell her dinner would be ready shortly. The woman did set her up with a nice array of snacks to tide her over, though. She spent the better part of an hour munching on grapes and crackers while watching Raisa cook. Stirring pots, checking the oven, cutting and chopping and dicing and slicing.

Felicity usually kept her distance from the families she stayed with. When she was younger she'd made the mistake of getting attached. It never worked out for her. But Raisa wasn't a part of the Queen family, she was an employee, and employee's were fair game, so she found herself asking questions as the woman cooked. Just mindless things, the occasional explanation for something she was doing. Raisa seemed more than happy to share. All in all, Felicity found it wasn't too bad here. She just hoped her luck kept up and she didn't have to interact too much with the actual family.

Her luck held until Moira walked into the room, asking Raisa about dinner. She smiled that thin smile when she noticed Felicity at the counter.

"Was your room to your liking?" she asked pleasantly enough.

"Yes," Felicity said, wiping cracker crumbs off her fingertips. "It's very nice, thank you."

Moira stood quietly for a moment, either silently judging her or looking for a topic to keep the conversation going. "We'll be having dinner in the dining room tonight. We're not always so formal. My husband and I are often busy, and Oliver is rarely home these days." She put on a chagrined little smile as if to say 'Teenagers. What are you gonna do?' "But since it's your first night, I thought it would be nice."

Felicity smiled politely and thanked her again. Another awkward silence fell over them and this time she felt a little bad. Moira was being perfectly nice. It wasn't her fault that Felicity had been through this song and dance a hundred times.

"Mrs. Queen?" she said, just as Moira was about to leave. The woman turned to face her and Felicity gave her a small smile. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

For the first time, a genuine—small, but certainly genuine—smile crossed Moira's face. "You're welcome."