When Thea finally found Felicity, the girl was operating three keyboards at once, spinning in her chair and typing furiously like a human whirlwind.
Thea leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching for a while. She realized Felicity was genuinely absorbed in her work—sacrificing sleep for their project. Thea felt a twinge of guilt.
"Hey, want to grab some coffee?"
Without turning her head, Felicity replied, "No, I'm busy. You go have fun."
Thea wasn't heartless enough to leave her working alone while she went out to play. She dragged a chair over, sat beside her, and put an arm around her shoulder. "Take a break. I've got something to talk about."
Felicity froze mid-typing and turned, wary. "We're not doing more physical labor, are we…?"
Typical capitalist shut-in—just a few days of manual work and she already had trauma. Thea thought bitterly that even Zhuge Liang, before becoming a statesman, had done farm work without a single complaint. MIT education clearly had its flaws.
"It's something outside," Thea said, pointing toward the wide, empty space that served as their "Software Department."
"Don't you think we should… do something? As the heir, I can't just sit here with no results," she said pitifully.
"What could we even do?" Felicity asked, implying that Thea's family business—once a reformed crime syndicate—didn't exactly need software. "Your company's always upgrading hardware to stay 'competitive.' Maybe buy more clubs and brass knuckles?"
Thea lowered her voice. "Aren't you… you know, really good with that stuff? Got any basic software I can buy off you? Something to keep those three outside busy—and help me have something to report."
Felicity tapped her fingers together, nose slightly tilted. "Good eye. Hang on." She opened a folder, clicked a few times, and soon the printer beside them began chugging.
A few minutes later, she handed Thea three printed pages. "These are some of my old college projects. See if anything's useful. Though… honestly, none of it's very practical." Her voice grew smaller as she spoke.
Thea scanned the papers and felt despair. She recognized every letter, but none of the words together made sense. What even was this? Just because you have a master's degree?
"Computational Secondary Ion Mass Spectrometry Formulas."
"Tracking Motion and Flavor-Link Protocol Framework."
"String-Based Algorithm for Wavelength Recognition."
No wonder Oliver eventually broke up with her. A high-school dropout living with an MIT grad—no shared language except the, well, physical kind. Without mental connection, the relationship was doomed.
Thea thought grimly: if you don't study, even a protagonist's halo won't save your love life.
Then she remembered a detail from the original timeline—a piece of software that might be useful. She flipped through the list again.
"Ah-ha!" she clapped her hands suddenly. "This one—the Facial Recognition Cross-Algorithm!"
The sharp sound startled Felicity, who turned to stare at her like she'd lost her mind.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine, fine. This one—" Thea pointed to the algorithm. "How far did you develop it?"
"This is hacker stuff, Thea. Don't mess with it—it could cause serious trouble if leaked," Felicity said anxiously.
"My plan's different," Thea explained quickly. "I'm not using it commercially. I want to develop or donate it to the police—to help catch criminals. How advanced is it? Can it identify suspects accurately?"
Facial recognition software was Felicity Smoak's signature achievement in the shows—it shone in both Arrow and The Flash. Combined with mobile tracking, it could be devastatingly effective. But Thea wasn't ready to release everything. GPS tracking involved too much personal privacy; she wasn't strong enough yet to wade into that minefield.
Commercial use was risky, but giving it to law enforcement could build reputation—and Queen Consolidated badly needed that after years of shady dealings.
Thea's ambitions reached further. If she could one day take over Queen Consolidated, her mother could move into politics—run for senator or mayor. Moira had all the grace and poise of a future stateswoman, much like that "former First Lady turned Secretary of State" from Thea's past life—charming, competent, politically brilliant. Keeping her stuck in the company was a waste.
It was early to think that far ahead, but good reputation had to be cultivated bit by bit. It might come in handy someday.
Felicity, meanwhile, found the idea compelling. At heart, she was kind and couldn't stand seeing injustice. In the future, she'd be drawn to Green Arrow for that same reason—his heroism inspired her loyalty. Hearing that one of her old hacker tools could now fight crime filled her with joy.
After some discussion, they agreed: Felicity would provide the base version of the facial recognition algorithm, and Thea—under the company's name—would "buy" it for development, with a clause prohibiting commercial use.
Pricing would depend on corporate appraisal. Felicity initially didn't want money, but Thea ruthlessly exposed her habit of changing outfits three times a day and earrings daily. That made Felicity realize the importance of income. More importantly, Thea thought, the money could fund their secret base.
"Wait—this money isn't mine?" Felicity's mouth dropped open. She'd thought Thea's persuasive pitch was about getting her a bonus, and was already mentally planning her shopping spree.
"Ahem, of course it's for you—well, mostly," Thea said sheepishly. Moira could overlook other people's gray accounting, but not her daughter's. Thea rarely handled cash and never had a chance to make off-the-books deals. The Red Arrow Skateboard looked simple but drained funds like crazy. Now heaven had dropped a gift in her lap—she'd be a fool not to grab it.
After smoothing things over with Felicity, Thea rushed straight to the CEO's office.
She presented the facial recognition idea with glowing praise, emphasizing its innovation and hinting at the image boost that donating it to law enforcement could bring.
Moira, ever politically astute, caught her daughter's drift immediately. No debate was needed—no one turned down a PR win. With a single stroke of her pen, she approved one million dollars in funding. As for how much her daughter paid Felicity privately, she didn't ask. She knew Thea had recently made a good friend—and in her eyes, that was a sign her daughter was finally returning to normal life.
With that, she could even start planning her own future with Walter again.