#roy does not understand why felicity's cat is so grumpy // YOU'RE BOTH THE WORST
EXCUSE YOU BEST IS THE WORD YOU ARE LOOKING FOR.
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"…Felicity?" Roy croaks, his voice muffled by the fur blocking his mouth. "Are you sure there isn’t someone else who can watch your cat while you and Dig go - what exactly were you doing again?"
Felicity paused at the foot of the stairs, palms halfway down the sides of her skirt. She loved her cat, really, but he shed so much sometimes it was a wonder she wasn’t covered in cat hair. Well, she was covered, but not like in an actual blanket of fur…anyways -
"It’s just a quick recon mission," Felicity beamed at him, pitching her voice higher than usual. For some reason, Ol - the cat, she was not naming the cat after her missing friend, that was completely ridiculous - seemed to know when Team Arrow had more dangerous missions and became more clingy as a result, weaving in and between her feet, twining his body round her neck, and generally acting as a general nuisance.
There was no need to mention that recon meant undercover and quick meant most of the evening. Between training for Roy and the pile of her scarves - again, she didn’t know where the cat got that particular obsession - she’d left on her chair, they’d hardly notice her and Dig’s absence.
"Lyla may have found a lead on Oliver," she explained, waving her hand through the air, "And normally I’d leave him with Ray - "
At the mention of her boyfriend, the cat, already uncomfortably perched on Roy’s thighs, yowled, thrashing in Roy’s grip. Felicity winced when one claw left a red mark down Roy’s forearm; Roy, in exchange, yelped and dropped him. It was a good thing cats usually landed on all fours.
"Christ, Felicity, you didn’t say your cat was a psycho!"
"He’s not normally," she sighed, bending down to rub the cat’s head, when he pressed against her feet, "He just really doesn’t like - um - yeah, you-know-who.”
She stopped scratching, ignoring the cat’s indignant meow, and scooped him up again, plopping him back down in Roy’s arms. Careful to keep his claws away from his face, Roy latched onto the cat’s stomach, exposing him for all the world - well, Felicity - to see. If Roy didn’t look so freaked out, Felicity would almost say he looked like Simba.
Huh. Simba.
"You know, maybe that’s it," she said, running one finger over the cat’s head. He purred in response. "Is that your name? Simba?"
The cat pulled away, leaning into Roy, narrowing feline eyes at her. Some days, she swore, it was like he was human.
"Guess not," Felicity sighed, lips curling into a smile, "Well, we’ll just have to keep trying!" Backing up, Felicity spun and trotted up the stairs, making up for lost time. Her voice echoed behind her. "Keep an eye on him, Roy, please? Dig and I will be back soon!"

















