Oliver was keenly aware of his reputation - both that of an emotionally stunted, asshole playboy, and that of a cold and calculating violent killer. He found them both useful. Knowing what people thought of him meant he could play up to expectations or subvert them completely.
It was particularly useful as “Ollie”, because when he used his vapid persona to its full extent, people always underestimated him.
Even his friends.
Older friends like Tommy and Laurel had a hard time reconciling the Ollie they knew with the Oliver of today. It was what made it easy to get away with being The Hood in the early days of his return to Starling.
But now they knew better. He had let them see his darkness and waited for them to reject the new broken version of himself.
But people will surprise you, and his friends certainly had. After the initial shock wore off, after questions had been asked, after they learned to see the new version of him with clear eyes, they had been accepting and gave him grace he neither expected nor deserved.
The least he could do was offer them the same consideration.
Tommy had changed the most. His shallowness replaced by a depth of character that sometimes took Oliver’s breath away. He had become a man his mother would have been proud of.
And he was keeping secrets from Oliver.
He should have seen it coming really.
When he first introduced Tommy and Felicity there had been a palpable spark. They became friends quickly and easily, and bonded over red wine and busting his balls.
There had been an immediate familiarity between them that developed into easy touches and in-jokes.
Then he walked into the Arrow Cave and saw them deep in conversation. When they realized he was there, they both blushed.
Actually blushed.
He pretended not to notice and immediately began to watch their interactions more closely.
Tommy brought Felicity dinner most nights. He knew all her favorite dishes and knew that she preferred sushi from the place on Elm Street, but loved the crunchy spring rolls from the place on Montgomery Drive. He brought her both.
Oliver frequently found him massaging the kinks out of Felicity’s shoulders after the club was closed for the night. Neither of them were the slightest bit self-conscious about it.
Felicity spent hours helping Tommy prep for board meetings and advised him on the best way to aid the rebuilding projects in the Glades. But when she came to him with a packet of research for how to set up a chain of free clinics to honor the memory of his mother, the look on Tommy’s face had been one Oliver would cherish for years to come.
She protected him online with a fierceness that was frankly terrifying. Anyone who dared spread rumors or lies about Tommy found themselves locked out of all their online accounts and on airline watch lists.
What really sealed it for him, though, was the way they looked at each other when they thought no-one could see. The intense focus and adoration that emanated from them was obvious when you were looking for it.
Dig had noticed it too. They caught the blinding smiles between Tommy and Felicity one night and Oliver and Dig looked at each other with a raised eyebrow and a slight nod. Yeah, he definitely knew.
They hadn’t been on a single date. Not one. But they were, without a doubt, head-over-heels for each other.
And Oliver was almost certain that they had no idea.
After three more days of watching them sub-consciously gravitate towards one-another and find excuses to constantly touch one-another, Oliver couldn’t take it any more.
He tracked-down Tommy doing inventory in the club.
“Hey, Tommy, how’s it going?” Said Oliver, as casually as he could.
“Mmhhmm good,” replied Tommy, distracted by the clipboard in his hands.
“Did you hear Laurel got a new case?” asked Oliver as he sat down on a barstool.
“Uhh, yes I did,” said Tommy, counting bottles of tequila.
“Yeah it’s one of those Central City powered guys,” said Oliver, checking under his fingernails.
“Yeah that’s right. Electric powers I think?” replied Tommy.
“I wonder what kind of cell they can even keep him in?” said Oliver.
“Yeah, dunno,” said Tommy.
“Seems dangerous,” said Oliver.
“Yeah, probably,” said Tommy.
“Do you love Felicity?” asked Oliver.
“Yeah, definitely,” answered Tommy.
Oliver grinned.
Tommy paused. Oliver could practically see the gears turning in his head.
“Wait…” said Tommy.
“Yes, Tommy?” asked Oliver, innocently.
“Wait, what??” Tommy looked at him, a slightly panicked look in his eyes.
Oliver stood and came around the back of the bar, pouring two glasses of whiskey. “You love Felicity,” he said calmly and handed Tommy one of the glasses.
Tommy took a big gulp of the drink. “Yeah I… oh.” He looked at Oliver. “How did you–?”
“You guys aren’t subtle,” Oliver grinned around his glass.
“Oh… right… okay,” said a dazed Tommy. There was a sudden intake of breath and he stared at Oliver, wide-eyed. “Does she love me?”
“I don’t know,” Oliver admitted. He smiled a sly grin, “I didn’t ask her yet.”
Tommy swallowed hard, his eyebrows knitting together. “You okay with this? With me and Felicity… if I ask her out?”
“When you ask her out,” said Oliver, firmly. “No, it doesn’t bother me. You guys are good together.”
“I should probably get on that, huh?” said Tommy with a grin.
~~~
Two hours later, Tommy was upstairs with the club in full swing, and Oliver was in the basement with Felicity and Digg.
Diggle was training Felicity in some self-defense moves on the mats. Oliver was pacing around them, correcting her form and demonstrating moves against him.
“One, two, hand, elbow– yes like that. Good. Again.” Oliver repositioned her hands and stepped back.
“Did you hear that Laurel is defending someone with super powers now?” He asked.
“What?” panted Felicity.
“You have to be able to multitask in a fight, Felicity,” Oliver explained. “You need to strategize while physically defending yourself; think ahead.”
Diggle raised an eyebrow but didn’t contradict him.
“Oh, okay,” said Felicity, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, I heard about that.” She gave Dig a “come at me” gesture and widened her stance.
“Did Cisco give them a name yet?” Oliver asked.
Felicity grappled with Dig and grunted, “Yeah. Electroshock.”
“When you go to flip him, put your foot on this side for better leverage,” said Oliver. “Where are they holding him?”
“Um, right, yeah,” Felicity tried again to disable Dig.
“Felicity?!”
“What?!”
“Electroshock? You were telling me where they put him,” Oliver said firmly.
“Oh! Yeah they made a special dampening cell at Barry’s labs,” answered Felicity.
“Let’s try some glove training,” said Oliver to Dig.
Diggle put on the impact pads while Oliver wrapped Felicity’s hands and helped her put on the gloves.
“Left, right, left, left, right,” coached Oliver. “Good. Keep this wrist straight. Yes, better. So how does the dampening cell work?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen it yet,” said Felicity, continuing to land punch after punch.
“Do you think we can replicate it here?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Probably not though,” she gritted out her answer with each punch.
“Can we make an arrow with a dampening field?” Oliver’s expression was curious but open.
“Maybe a mini EMP?” Felicity shrugged.
“Do you love Tommy?”
Felicity missed the sparring pad, pivoted quickly on her heel and glared at Oliver.
“Mind your fucking business, Oliver,” she snapped.
Diggle looked as though he was trying not to laugh.
“I’m hitting the shower,” she said cooly.
“What was that?” Diggle asked with an amused look on his face.
Oliver shrugged. “It was worth a try. Tommy spilled his guts when I tried it on him.”
Diggle barked out a laugh. “You should update your passwords, Oliver.”
~~~
24 hours later, Tommy and Felicity were on a date and Oliver received a notification from Homeland Security that he was no longer allowed to fly in the United States.
It was his own fault for forgetting Felicity’s hacker reputation.
[Challenged myself to write more Flommy kissing; underestimated how much these two prefer to talk and banter.]
Silly, unplanned semi-sequel to this
Prompt taken from this list: "A breathy demand: 'Kiss me' - and what the other person does to respond"
“Kiss me,” Tommy blurts barely a moment after the alarm breaks out in a rapid series of beeps, and right as Felicity grips his lapels to urgently hiss the same thing.
Funny thing, that.
Though his eyebrows shoot high in surprise and amusement, Tommy doesn’t miss a beat in slipping an arm around Felicity’s waist to urge her closer. “I know that this is all still pretty new—mostly the ‘no more mission kissing’ rule, but also still kind of… this.” One hand gestures between the two of them, while the other trails up Felicity’s back until the silky blue fabric cedes to bare skin, just below her shoulder blades. “But I’ll own up to the fact that I wasn’t expecting myself to stick to that arrangement. I figured that was only going to be a me problem, though.”
“Don’t start,” Felicity warns, voice still in that firm, hushed tone that makes Tommy’s spine tingle in such a pleasant way. One determined step forward, and she both presses herself to Tommy’s chest and drives him back against the wall. “Security response will be too quick for us to work out another plan, much less run. The ‘Oopsie, didn’t realize our secret makeout spot was a restricted area and that we set off a sensor, don’t mind us’ is our best maneuver here.” She presses her lips together in deep consideration, before releasing her grip on one lapel to instead go for Tommy’s tie.
“Mission kissing is just a maneuver to you?” He gasps in mock affront and presses his free hand over his collarbone, unable to clutch at his heart with Felicity all but welded to him and loosening the carefully-tied knot to an acceptable degree of disheveled.. “I’ve been demoted from, uh, special someone to mere component of a convenient distraction technique. Hurtful.”
Selecting a term for his role in Felicity’s life—when the newness of it can still best be described as “fresh enough that mission kissing is now off the table, because we might find any excuse to kiss (seeing as we already have, a couple times)”—is a gamble, but Tommy’s choice is a safe enough one, it seems. Felicity doesn’t move to correct him, only pursing her lips in an exaggerated “aww, poor sad puppy” way to show that she is neither sorry for the downgrade, nor going to spend the time tending to the wound it delivered.
“Yes, right now, you are just my pretty, pretty smokescreen,” she declares, releasing the tie and instead bringing that hand to pat his cheek. “You’ll get promoted back to ‘special someone’ once we no longer have guards breathing down our necks, and this dress is on the bedroom floor.”
Tommy isn’t sure if the alarm actually does stop bleating for a split-second after that sentence, or if the staticky buzz of sudden silence is just his brain disconnecting at that concluding (maybe even more promising than mission kissing) implication.
“Because… I am going to step out of it and into something more comfortable once this is all over and I’m back home,” Felicity continues oh-so-slowly, eyes falling closed as her thoughts catch up to her mouth. Her hand flops gracelessly from Tommy’s face and down to his shoulder, likely unintentionally. “And will be hanging it back up in my closet, where it belongs. So it doesn’t get ruined by being left on the floor.”
Thankfully, Tommy’s brain chooses that moment to come back online—dial-up tones almost drowning out the cacophony in the background—and he manages to get his voice working before Felicity can thump her forehead to his chest in mortification.
“Uh…” he rasps, the epitome of eloquence, before clearing his throat with a short cough. “Any way we can negotiate that promotion to happen before the getting-changed? I’ll also accept after putting the dress away, if you’re open to moving that step up.”
Felicity cracks one eye back open at his wishful thinking. “See, this is the other reason why we needed to put a moratorium on being affectionate on ops, both as legitimate plans and just-because. You know my mouth says…” She makes a sour face, trying to determine the best way to put it. “...things—that’s never changed, even once we became an us. Except now those things just sound like ideas for later, which makes it even more distracting.”
“Great ideas for later,” Tommy’s mouth (and more than a little bit his brain) automatically feels the need to specify, sending the words tumbling off his tongue and rolling over the end of Felicity’s sentence.
She hears them nonetheless. “Not helping.”
“Never said I was trying to. I’ve been on Team Mission Kissing this whole time, remember?” Tommy grins cheekily as Felicity locks her narrowed eyes on his, and slowly arches one brow. “And I’m sure I’m not the only member. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that we haven’t been hauled away yet, and the alarms, they are still a-ringin’.”
Felicity, to her credit, doesn’t break their little staredown. Instead, her lids lift just enough for the spark of challenge to flare up from behind them.
“So maybe I did figure we had enough time to run,” she admits casually, the hand that had unceremoniously dropped onto Tommy’s shoulder sliding around his neck as she speaks. Her lips tug into a shrug-like expression for a moment. “And maybe I just thought that wasn’t quite as appealing a plan. There’s a little rush that comes from breaking the rules, sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” Tommy agrees, and leans in to bump their noses together. Voice dropping low and curious, he presses, “Does that make this instance an exception, or…”
His eyes droop closed and the words fade into a blissful sigh as lithe fingers skim over the back of his neck, drawing up a stream of goosebumps on their way to finding home in his hair.
“I think some rules are just meant to be broken. Repeatedly.” Felicitys’ breath ghosts over his lips on that murmured reply, before she all but closes that minuscule gap remaining between them. “That enough of an answer for you?”
The only affirmative Tommy finds himself able to make is a contented hum, already tipsy from the gliding and grasping of her fingers through his short hair.
From her responding laugh, that evidently works for Felicity. “Glad we’re on the same page. Now, no more talking—kiss me.”
Oh, Tommy would be more than happy to comply—has been all but dying to ever since the command was first given. There’s just one little thing he can’t let slide:
“Shouldn’t that be my line? It was close, but I’m pretty sure I asked fir-”
The frustrated growl Felicity lets out at the nitpicking is thankfully not a denial, but the prelude to a searing kiss.
(The burn of which they get to relish in for about five seconds, before security finally descends upon them.)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 4/4
Fandom: Arrow (TV 2012)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tommy Merlyn/Felicity Smoak
Characters: Tommy Merlyn, Felicity Smoak
Additional Tags: some smut, Deleted Scene, flommy, honestly we could have had it all with these two, Tommy Merlyn Lives
Summary:
Based on that comment Colin O'Donnell made: "Felicity and Tommy were definitely banging in Season 1"
Tommy’s hands were full, each holding a coffee, as he stepped onto the elevator, en route to Oliver’s office. He was regretting not grabbing a tray so he could idly play with his phone, a distraction from the muzak currently planting an earworm he wouldn’t be getting rid of anytime soon.
On floor twenty-three, the doors opened to admit a small, pretty blonde, arms full of laptop.
She stepped in next to him, turned on her heel to face the doors, and then reached up to readjust the frames of her glasses, lime green nails catching his eye.
She smelled good. He turned his head a little to follow the scent, realized how weird that was, and then cleared his throat. It got her attention enough that she glanced at him. “Hey.”
She smiled, painted pink lips splitting open. “Hi.”
She was all color, from the orange of her pencil skirt to the bright design on her fuzzy sweater to the magnetizing blue of her eyes.
“You come here often?”
She blinked at him and tipped her head, amused. “Well, I work here. So, I think I’d have to say ‘yes.’”
“Right.” He shook his head. “Laptop should’ve been a giveaway. Tech then?”
“What, at a tech business?” She turned a little, her ponytail swinging. “How’d you guess?”
Tommy felt a flush creep down his neck. “Okay, two strikes. I’d take a walk but we’re in an elevator.”
“And by the looks of it, we’re both going to the top, so we’re stuck here for at least another minute…” She pointed at him, smiling. "Did you want to go for three or should we just listen to the tacky elevator music in awkward silence?”
“Is there a chance this is coming off even a little bit charming?”
“More than it should.” She bit her lip and then said, “How about you? Come here often?”
Now that the mission is done, Felicity and Tommy take some time to rest and enjoy themselves. But where does their tenuous relationship stand - are they friends with benefits, or is there more between them?
~~~~
Enjoy below or on AO3
~~~~
When Tommy woke in the morning it took him a minute to get his bearings. He was naked, with an equally naked Felicity wrapped around him. Memories from the previous night flitted their way across his tired brain and he smiled and kissed Felicity’s forehead.
A bell rang in the hallway and Tommy realized it was the breakfast call that had woken him. The thought of getting up for breakfast was not appealing in the least, but neither was going hungry. He reluctantly extricated himself from Felicity and stood from the bed, pulling on his boxer briefs and a shirt.
Opening the cabin door, he peered down the hallway until he spotted the porter. Flagging them down, he placed an order for breakfast in bed and tipped them generously.
Back in the room, Felicity was still out cold. A fond smile graced his lips as he watched her sleep, grateful she was getting some good rest after the stress and strain of the last few days. He was determined to spoil her until they had to go back to Starling. He wanted to make sure she knew her worth so well that she never accepted anything less.
Tommy had a quick shower and threw on some jeans and an old band t-shirt. When the food arrived, he quietly wheeled it into the cabin and parked it right next to the bed.
“Felicity,” he placed a smattering of kisses across her face. “Felicity, honey, breakfast.”
“Hmm?” she cracked one sleepy eye open.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” Tommy smiled.
She smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. “I might skip breakfast. I may never leave this bed again.”
“Check it out,” said Tommy, nodding towards the food trays.
“Breakfast in bed?!”
“Only the best for you. We can stay in bed all day if you want. I’ll keep bringing you food and rub your pretty feet.”
Felicity’s eyes shone as she smiled wide. “You’re amazing, thank you.”
She clambered out of bed just long enough to use the bathroom and freshen up, then snagged one of Tommy’s button-ups to wear before snuggling back under the covers, ready to accept a tray of crepes and fresh fruit.
Seeing Felicity in his shirt took his breath away. Something in his heart clenched, but he mentally shoved it down and passed Felicity her breakfast with a warm smile.
Tommy sat on the end of the bed with his own tray, his back resting against the wall. They ate in companionable silence, enjoying a rare moment of peace in their too-busy lives. He could barely take his eyes off her - sleep-mussed hair and all. She made him happy, just by her presence. Somehow she had a knack for quieting the demons of his past and helping him to enjoy the present.
It felt different from when he was with Laurel. Even though he and Felicity weren’t technically a couple, he couldn’t help but think of them that way when he held the two relationships up side by side in his mind. Laurel was firmly a part of his past and his history together with Oliver. But Felicity was a fresh new chapter; something that was just his. Despite her clandestine activities with Oliver, he believed her when she said they weren’t involved in that way. It was one of his favorite things about this time with Felicity, that they were being honest with each other every step of the way.
With a happy sigh, Felicity pushed her empty plate away. “That was so good.”
When she moved as if to get up and clear away her dishes, Tommy stopped her.
“I wasn’t kidding about you resting up today. You work way too hard and I’m declaring a National Day of Hacker Appreciation.”
She smiled and pulled him by his t-shirt until he was close enough to kiss.
“Thank you,” she murmured against his lips.
After a few pleasurable minutes lost in her lips, he pulled away, cleared the dishes and rang for them to be collected.
Sitting back on the end of the bed, he pulled back the covers at one side to free one of her feet. “I believe I promised you a foot massage.”
Felicity wriggled down in the bed until she was comfortable and then wiggled her toes playfully. Tommy huffed out a laugh and began to knead away the stress from her tired arches.
The sound of her moans had his dick twitching, but he ignored it.
There will be time for that later.
Right now, he wanted to unravel her in other ways.
He loved that he could do this to her - press here and get a reaction there . It was intimate in a different way. And she let him. Encouraged him. It had him feeling all kinds of things. Nothing he was eager to put a name to, but sitting as a tangled mess in his chest all the same.
When the porter interrupted them to collect the dishes, Tommy requested a couple of items.
By the time he was done with Felicity’s other foot the porter dropped off some mimosas and a bottle of massage oil.
“How did they find that?” exclaimed Felicity.
“It’s amazing what a generous tip can unearth,” laughed Tommy.
“Apparently so.”
They toasted each other and Felicity took a long drink of her mimosa.
“This is the best day,” she sighed.
Tommy smiled in agreement, then gestured to the shirt she was wearing.
“Take this off and lay down on your stomach for me. I’m going to work on your back next.”
“You’re spoiling me.”
“Quite right too.”
She did as he asked and he warmed some of the oil in his hands before slowly spreading it over her back in long, even strokes.
He worked on her shoulders and lower back - two areas that he knew gave her problems from all the time she spent at the computer.
A sense of deep satisfaction washed over him that he had taken massage courses in college. His father had been irritated at him, saying that he was wasting time and money. Tommy smiled grimly and shoved the memory away.
He kneaded away her knots, taking his time and paying attention to her reactions.
“You need to take better care of yourself. You’re all snarled up back here,” he said.
“Mmmm never have time,” mumbled Felicity into the pillow.
“That’s something we need to work on,” said Tommy gently. “You are at QC all day and at Verdant all night - you’re going to run yourself into the ground if you’re not careful.”
Felicity groaned as he worked on her shoulders.
Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, “You’re too important, sweetheart. You have to make time to rest, or your body will make that time in the most inconvenient ways.” He kissed her neck before continuing his work.
A few minutes later he noticed her breathing had changed. Leaning over, he peeked at her face - she was fast asleep.
He smiled fondly and pulled the covers over her.
“Good girl,” he kissed her cheek softly.
The train was pulling into the station at Helena for the day. Tommy stood and stretched the kinks out of his own back. After stealing another glance at Felicity, he grabbed his phone and dialed Oliver.
Oliver picked up on the second ring. “Tommy?”
“Hey Oliver, just wanted to let you know we’re okay. We didn’t have cell service for a while there.”
He could almost hear Oliver release a breath in relief.
“Thanks, Tommy. We saw the police report come in of the arrests. Nice work.”
Tommy could feel his skin warming at the praise. “Thanks, man.”
“So no cell service, huh?”
“Yeah, that was a bitch. Felicity had to drive down the mountain to call in the tip, and I stalled the ladies which kept the men from taking off. Aside from one of them taking a couple of swings at me, we managed to do it with the minimum of violence.”
“You’re okay?” concern had bled into Oliver’s tone.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Is Felicity there?”
“Yeah, she’s asleep,” said Tommy. “Listen, I wanted to ask you if there’s any urgent reason we have to get back to Starling.”
“Why?” asked Oliver, immediately suspicious.
Tommy bristled at Oliver’s tone, his previous happy buzz deflating a little at the sudden shift. His answer came out a little sharper than he intended. “Because Felicity would never say anything, but she’s exhausted and needs a break. Give us a few more days through the weekend and I’ll have her back to you for Monday morning.”
“Tommy–” Oliver’s hesitation was loud despite the softness of his voice. “What are you doing? Are you guys together now?”
“I’m just–” Tommy broke off in frustration. Not wanting to wake Felicity, he stepped out into the deserted hallway.
He began again, “I’m just trying to help her relax a little. We’re… I’m not sure what we are. We’re having a good time together.”
“Friends with benefits?” said Oliver in disbelief. “Come on, Tommy, I haven’t seen you like this since… well… It's been a while. Be honest. Are you falling for her?”
“I–” Tommy was taken aback. “I don’t know what I feel. She’s amazing and gorgeous, and I… I don’t know. I haven’t had time to think about it.”
“You’re an idiot,” said Oliver bluntly. “An absolute fucking idiot.”
“Hey!”
“No, really. You’re telling me that you’ve been sharing her bed all week; that there’s the foundation of your friendship and now what I can only imagine is some pretty spectacular sex, and you don’t know how you feel ? Seriously? Are you sure you weren't hit in the head yesterday?”
Tommy pinched the skin above his nose in irritation. “Wow, really?”
A pained sigh came through the phone.
“I suggest you take the time right now to think, Tommy. Yes, enjoy the rest of the week and weekend together. But get your shit together, because if this thing is real between you? You don’t want to let it slip through your fingers.”
“Yeah–” Tommy sighed. He hated that Oliver was right. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “Thanks, Oliver.”
“Oh, and Tommy?”
“Yeah?”
Oliver’s voice dropped to his Arrow growl. “You hurt her and I’ll break your fingers. All of them. ”
Tommy felt the blood drain from his face. “Understood.”
He hung up the phone and stared at it unseeing for a while. He really didn’t know how he felt about Felicity. She was consuming his every thought and impulse in the best way, and yet he didn’t know what it all meant.
Were they just a casual fling, or was there something deeper to what they were experiencing together?
Sighing in frustration, Tommy slipped back into the room.
Felicity was still asleep with her hair a golden halo on the pillow, her face more relaxed than he had ever seen her. His heart swooped.
Tommy swallowed hard. The way he felt about her wasn’t just friendly. He didn’t want to face it but his feelings had deepened so subtly that he hadn’t even realized it.
He thought back over the last few months. The way she had slowly but surely insinuated herself into every part of his life. The way she was the first person he thought of when he saw a funny meme or had a bad nightmare. He wanted to share everything with her. The good and the bad equally.
It was so horribly selfish of him.
She was stretched thin holding QC together and spearheading rebuilding efforts in the Glades from behind the scenes. Adding to that all her work with Oliver and he wondered if there was a single person who really understood how important she was.
The last thing she needed was to get in deep with someone as broken as him.
He had years of shit he was wading through with a therapist, but the sessions frequently only served to illuminate precisely how screwed up he was.
How did that joke go? If you tell a funny story from your childhood and people look horrified, you might just be fucked up. Yeah, he got that look a lot.
Sighing, he shook his head. No, she deserved far better than him. He would pamper her and give her a great few days. Give her whatever pieces of him she wanted and then they would go home. She would go back to saving the world and he would go back to being the unseen friend behind the scenes.
Placing a Do Not Disturb sign on their door, he re-locked it. Then quickly stripping back down to his underwear, he slid into bed beside Felicity and wrapped his arms carefully around her.
His mind cleared and he immediately felt at peace and happy. He might not have a future with Felicity, but he would take these fleeting moments while he could.
~~~
When Felicity awoke a couple of hours later she could tell something was different. For one thing, the train wasn’t moving, but what really grabbed her attention was the way Tommy was wrapped around her. He was almost naked and had one hand on her breast and another between her legs. Her body was already humming with pleasure.
“Mmmm, Tommy,” she murmured, pushing her right hand over her shoulder and up into his hair.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” said Tommy in a husky voice. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” she said, a little breathless. “Could be better though.” She pushed her ass backwards to grind on his hardening dick.
Tommy stroked his fingers through her folds. “Already getting wet,” he groaned appreciatively. He began to circle her clit while he kissed his way down the side of her neck.
A bolt of pleasure zipped down her spine. She reached back to grasp him and found his underwear in the way. “These have to go,” she said, not caring how needy she sounded.
He chuckled and pinched her nipple before releasing her to strip off his underwear and roll on a condom. When he returned and pressed himself against her fully, she whined, pleased at how he felt against her.
“You feel so good,” she sighed. Placing her leg over his to make room for him between her legs, she added, “Need you.”
She grasped his cock, guiding it to where she wanted him.
“Felicity–” groaned Tommy as he pressed inside her. “You feel so perfect.”
The position didn’t allow for much movement, but Felicity didn’t care. It felt incredible just to be this close to him; to be filled by him. Tommy reached around her front and grasped her shoulder for leverage to fuck up into her. His other hand circled her clit again and she felt the pressure build.
Pressing her palms against the wall, she used it to push back into him and they both groaned at the deeper angle.
He was still kissing her, sending sparks down her spine, but when he bit her, right at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, a wave of pleasure hit her hard.
He continued fucking her through it and then came with a shudder as her walls gripped him.
Panting into her neck, he trailed his fingers over her body and she shivered and batted his hands away.
“Too sensitized.”
“Oh?” He said, exploring her further.
“No, stop!” She giggled and tickled his balls in retaliation.
“Okay, okay!” laughed Tommy, relenting. He kissed her neck and then briefly disappeared into the bathroom.
Once he was done, Felicity swapped places with him and took a long hot shower. Her body felt tired but relaxed. She sighed happily as the hot water worked to soothe her muscles.
When she finally emerged in a cloud of steam, wrapped in towels, Tommy had made the bed and was lounging on it, reading a book.
She pulled on a pair of underwear and began re-buttoning Tommy’s shirt, not missing the satisfied grin he wore, or his blown pupils.
After towel-drying her hair, she sat at the table and opened her laptop.
“Work?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, I need to send all the evidence I collected to Detective Lance.”
“Can I ask? Is it the kind of thing that can wait a few days, or is it something that will stress you out until it’s done?”
“Definitely something that will stress me out,” laughed Felicity.
“Fair enough,” smiled Tommy. “Are you hungry?”
Felicity’s stomach growled in response. “Well I am now. ”
“I’ll ring for the lunch menu. Do you want some coffee?”
“Coffee would be amazing,” Felicity sighed. “After lunch, you should go on the outings with everyone. I’m not going to be much company for a while ”
Tommy grimaced. “I can’t think of anything worse right now. This is the only place I want to be.” He paused. “Unless I’m in your way?”
“No,” said Felicity. “I just didn’t want you to be bored.”
“This isn’t boring,” disagreed Tommy. “It’s peaceful. The tap-tap of your keyboard is the best white-noise.”
Felicity sighed, “I should probably see about getting us home today.”
“About that- I have a surprise for you. I spoke to Oliver and they don’t need us until Monday. We have a few days of vacation if you want it.”
Felicity’s fingers froze over the keyboard as she processed what he was saying. “Really?!”
“Really. You need a vacation more than anyone I know, except maybe Oliver.”
Unable to contain her excitement, she jumped onto the bed and kissed him deeply. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I was so disappointed that we were going to miss Yellowstone tomorrow. I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, kissing her back. “Now let’s see about that coffee.”
~~~
After lunch in their cabin, Tommy went back to his book - The Queen of Attolia - and Felicity meticulously submitted all of her research and evidence to Detective Lance. Then she checked on the lair computers and their warning algorithms for any new threats. Aside from an unseasonable uptick in flu cases, everything seemed calm.
With a sigh of relief, Felicity closed her laptop and stretched her neck from side to side. A glance at Tommy found him fast asleep with his book open on his chest.
She smiled softly.
If she wasn’t already in love with him, the way he was looking after her and spoiling her would definitely have done it. She wasn’t used to this kind of affectionate attention.
She wondered briefly if Tommy had feelings for her, before rejecting that idea as dangerous.
Her Mom had always taught her never to make decisions based on someone else’s feelings.
Good advice .
She climbed carefully onto the bed and snuggled up to Tommy for a nap.
~~~
That night all the train guests were going on a boat cruise for a few hours. It included a farewell dinner as everyone would be de-boarding the train the next morning. Tommy and Felicity decided to join the fun one last time.
Tommy tied his bow tie and brushed a piece of fluff off his tuxedo jacket. He was strangely nervous as he waited for Felicity to finish getting ready in the bathroom. Try as he might, he couldn’t find a reason for his nerves - the mission was over. They were just relaxing for a few days until they returned to Starling and all the pressures and responsibilities that awaited them there.
The bathroom door opened and Felicity showed off her outfit to him with a little twirl.
She was a vision in a silky red dress that hugged every gorgeous curve, falling almost to the floor, with a nearly scandalous slit up one long leg.
Tommy tried to remember how to breathe.
He swallowed hard and then straightened his posture, remembering his upbringing.
Extending an arm to her, he smiled, saying “Mrs. McGonagall, would you do me the honor?”
“I’d be delighted, Mr. McGonagall,” she replied with a happy smile.
They made their way from the train over to the boat docked nearby. Walking onboard they immediately recognized several guests.
Jack and Logan walked over to greet them. “Hey there, we wondered if we would see you again after all the excitement yesterday!”
“We didn’t go far,” said Tommy with a wink. “We just needed a breather. Quite the scandal, huh?”
“Can you believe they were smugglers?” exclaimed Jack.
“Is that what they were?” said Tommy easily. “I wondered what all the fuss was about.”
Another couple joined the conversation and the theories only got more outlandish. Throughout the conversation Tommy didn’t attempt to correct them, enjoying the free entertainment.
Felicity chimed in occasionally, encouraging the chaos between sips of champagne. He caught her eye, sharing a conspiratorial grin.
The band started to play an old Etta James tune and Tommy took that as his cue.
“Please excuse us, I need to dance with my wife.”
He led her to the dance floor and they fell into step together easily. He wondered at the changes between them in these few days. They were utterly in sync with one another now.
They danced in their own little bubble, stepping and twirling through the space as though they were the only people on the boat.
When he dipped her and guided her leg next to his, he realized with a shock that she was wearing the garter belt and stockings again. He remembered his promise to her.
“Felicity…” he said in a low hiss.
“Yes, dear?” she said in a faux-innocent voice.
“Stockings? And it’s not even my birthday. Please tell me I get to unwrap you?”
He watched her swallow hard before answering , “Yes please.”
Looking over her shoulder, he noted in frustration that they were no longer docked, but were sailing down the river on the promised mini-cruise.
Pulling her flush with him, he whispered in her ear, “We’re stuck here for a couple of hours.” He kissed the shell of her ear. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to wait to play with you.”
He heard her quick intake of breath.
“You’re going to be begging me to fuck you by the time we get back to our cabin.”
He swallowed her whine with a heated kiss.
His fingers trailing lightly down her back to just above her ass, he squeezed her hips before turning her around so her back was flush with his front. He guided her through the next steps of the dance with his hands resting on her hips and his breath tickling her neck and ear.
He could see her nipples pebbling through the dress. He pressed one hand low on her stomach and swayed side to side in a little Cha-cha before spinning her away and back again.
Letting his hands trail delicately up the length of her arms, he caught one of her hands and sucked a kiss to the inside of her wrist. She bit off a moan and his lips quirked a smile.
Dance after dance, Tommy stalked her around the dance floor with focused intent. To an outsider it looked like an intimate yet PG series of dances. But Tommy was carefully skating over Felicity’s skin with changing pressure, and keeping her off balance with stolen kisses.
He was expertly playing with his food and preparing to feast.
By the time they announced dinner, Felicity looked flushed and more than a little dazed.
She may have thought that there would be some kind of reprieve during dinner.
She was wrong.
Tommy noted their seating place cards and immediately switched them so that he could sit next to Felicity on the side with the long slit up her leg. Felicity noticed and immediately blushed when she realized what he was doing.
Years of experience of dull boardroom meetings and stuffy dinners let him easily carry on a conversation innocently above the dinner table, while causing wicked chaos below it. Felicity tried to keep up - tracing a path to his dick while he tracked a course to her soaked panties. But this was his turf and he was too fast, too practiced for her to turn the tables.
Before she could find his zipper, he had already moved her panties to one side and was drawing lazy circles around her clit, and slipping through her folds before plunging inside.
He half listened to the conversation enough to keep up, but his primary focus was the way Felicity’s fingers tightened on her champagne glass; the way a flush was spreading from her chest up her neck; the catch of her breath and unfocused look in her eyes.
Leaning over to her, he pressed a somewhat chaste kiss to her neck, but out of sight he scissored his fingers inside her and she whimpered.
The main course was served and Tommy drew his fingers out of her and brought them up to the sauce on his plate. Dipping his middle finger in the sauce, he sucked it off his finger while maintaining eye contact with Felicity.
“Delicious,” he said.
She seemed to be conflicted by his display, so he left her alone through the main course. She looked relieved, if a little on edge.
Dessert, however, was another matter.
He licked cream off his spoon in a way that could only be described as indecent. Then he gave her a filthy kiss that pushed some of the cream into her mouth. She groaned around his tongue.
Someone coughed politely, reminding them they were far from alone.
He kissed her again, more softly, noting her wide pupils and hitched breath.
Trailing his fingers in random patterns, he slowly slowly made his way up her leg again while they ate dessert. She shifted in her chair and gripped his thigh tightly.
The group were offering toasts while he circled her clit hard and fast. He could tell she was getting close. Tommy stopped abruptly and stood to offer his own toast while Felicity watched him.
“My wife and I would like to thank the train and its staff for their delightful hospitality, and our fellow guests for their friendships.” Turning to Felicity, he added, “It has been an unforgettable experience for both of us, and we can honestly say we are closer than we’ve ever been.”
He sat to applause and clinked his glass against Felicity’s.
She leaned in towards him with a deadly smile on her lips and whispered in his ear, “I’m gonna make you pay for that. When we’re alone I’m going to eat you alive.”
“Ah, but first you have to get me alone, and you might feel differently by then,” he said with a smirk.
She raised an eyebrow and took another drink.
The toasts done and the meal finished, the guests returned to the dance floor.
Tommy led Felicity through both slow dances and quick. He teased and tantalized her until her earlier annoyance had melted away to leave a simmering heat in its wake.
When someone announced that the boat would be docking shortly, Felicity’s eyes met Tommy’s. He dipped her and slowly moved his hands over her, drawing her upright before stealing a kiss.
“Did you forgive me yet?” he whispered.
“Hmm, we’ll see,” murmured Felicity. “You owe me at least one orgasm.”
“I’ll make good on it.” He gripped her hip hard, making her catch her breath. “With interest.”
~~~
When they were finally back on the train and in the privacy of their own cabin, Felicity pushed Tommy against the locked door. Before he could react, she swiftly unzipped him and dropped to her knees.
The sight of her draped in red silk and licking the length of his cock shorted out his brain. She swirled her tongue around the tip before taking him to the hilt. He moaned and threaded his fingers into her hair. She worked her way up and down his shaft and he put all his concentration into not thrusting up into her mouth.
Watching her red lips take him was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life.
He felt his balls tighten as his pleasure built.
“Felicity, I’m gonna–”
Her mouth left him with a pop. She rose from her knees and shoved his jacket off his shoulders. Her eyes burned as they held his. A quick flick of her wrist had his bowtie undone and then she used it to pull him over to the bed.
Mouth dry, he quickly stepped out of his shoes, pants and underwear as he followed her willingly. Tommy was so turned on right now he couldn’t even think straight. His brain was filled with static and the overriding need to do whatever Felicity asked.
Her slender fingers pushed him firmly onto the bed until he was half lying down with his knees bent over the end of the bed.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Tommy watched, mesmerized, as Felicity unzipped her dress and let it pool at her feet on the floor. Her underwear quickly followed.
Still wearing her lacy garter set, bra, and - in exchange for part of his soul no doubt - her stilettos, Felicity climbed over him like a cat stalking her prey. Tommy hadn’t thought it was possible to be any more turned on than he had been when she was sucking him off.
He was wrong.
Every atom of his being was on high alert and ready to combust. She settled her knees either side of his head and gave him a delicious smirk.
“Ready?” Her voice was husky.
“Fuck yes,” he choked out.
Her pussy lowered to his face and his hands grasped her ass to bring her even closer. He feasted on her, fucking into her with his tongue and encouraging her to ride his face harder. Her gasps and moans spurred him on and his hips thrust at nothing in a sympathetic reaction. She fell over the edge of her pleasure with a long moan and leaned against the wall over his head, gasping through the aftershocks while he licked away her release.
When her legs shook with fine tremors, Tommy gently helped her to move back down his torso. At the first opportunity he flipped their positions so he covered her body with his. She gazed at him from hooded eyes. He licked into her mouth with a kiss which he knew tasted of her own pleasure. She responded eagerly and wrapped her legs around his waist.
He firmly pushed her knees apart, freeing him to pepper wet kisses down her sternum in a path towards her clit. When he settled between her legs to work her over again, Felicity groaned in protest.
“I can’t. I need you… I need…”
“Yes you can, sweetheart,” Tommy growled. “Give me one more and then I’ll fuck you like you deserve.”
His fingers slipped easily inside her and pumped in and out while his mouth played with her clit. Her legs moved restlessly over him while her hands gripped his hair. The wet sounds of her arousal spurred him on. He loved pulling moans from her lips and pleasure from her body. It was better than any drug when her walls fluttered around him. He crooked his fingers and sucked on her clit; her body tensed like a bow string beneath him. He kept going until he coaxed a wrecked scream from her lips.
“That’s my girl.” he praised.
Pulling off the rest of his clothes and rolling on a condom, he settled back between her legs.
Felicity was flushed and panting hard.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked between kisses.
“Yes, god yes.”
He placed one of her legs over his shoulder and pressed inside her in one slow stroke.
She sucked in a quick breath.
Tommy froze. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Feels so good.” She hooked her free leg behind his ass to encourage him. The feeling of the stiletto on his bare skin did exactly that.
He fucked her deep and hard, every groan from her lips spurring him on.
She reached up and drew him in for a messy kiss. The angle changed and they were both moaning at the intensity of the pleasure they were feeling.
She spasmed around him, drawing him deeper still. He fucked her through her orgasm and his movements got sloppy when his own crashed through him moments later.
Half collapsing on her, Tommy carefully lowered her leg down from his shoulder and kissed her tenderly.
“Am I forgiven?” he murmured.
“Mmhmm, definitely.”
After cleaning them both up, he slowly removed her stockings and garter belt, kissing every inch along the way, making her shiver with aftershocks.
Finally, tucking the covers around them, Tommy wrapped his arms around her and breathed in the smell of Felicity’s shampoo and their sex.
His conversation with Oliver flitted through his mind. Had he fallen for her? It was hard to imagine anything more perfect than this, than every moment he spent with her. The words were almost past his lips but he bit them back.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight,” she mumbled in reply.
He didn’t dare burst this delicate bubble. Not yet. He held her a little tighter, as though he could keep her from all the bad things in the world.
Felicity & Tommy are hunting for jewel thieves on the American Orient Express. A slip of the tongue at the start of the mission means they have to pretend to be married. Can they find the thieves before they reach the Canadian border? And can they remember that the marriage is just for show?
[I meant to fill this prompt a few months back, the last time I wrote something for this particular universe, but these two wanted to go their own way then and yanked me off-course. But I was suddenly hit by the right inspiration to give it another go and ran with it!]
Part of the Secret Relationship Flommy 'verse (1 | 2 | 3)
It starts with the t-shirt.
Well, maybe it doesn’t necessarily start there, but that’s at least when Felicity notices, starts to pay attention. The first recorded incident on a list that’s growing longer by the day—long enough that, had she somehow overlooked it like the unknown number of its possible predecessors, something else certainly would have pinged by now.
Luckily, obliviousness was not quite that persistent, which means the t-shirt is the starting line. The first domino. Point A.
Day 0 of realizing that—whether he consciously acknowledges it or not—Felicity’s townhouse is gradually becoming Tommy’s home.
The reason why that particular event is significant enough to register in Felicity’s mind isn’t the simplest to parse out, not at first. It’s not like Tommy hadn’t left things at her place before: his laptop, his preferred brand of toothpaste (travel-sized to start, until its recent graduation to a full tube), a pair of pajama bottoms, a singular golf club. All completely normal, understandable items to be absently forgotten or purposely kept at a partner’s residence.
(Except the golf club. Felicity still has no idea when that one snuck in, much less why—Tommy doesn’t even golf, and a putter would hardly be an ideal weapon in the face of home invasion.)
While even more intimate than leaving personal items behind, combining their laundry isn’t new or notable enough to solidify the moment either. On more than one prior occasion, Felicity’s wash schedule coincided with Tommy spending the night and wearing just the right color to top off a full load; it wasn’t difficult to see the mutually-beneficial arrangement that could come of that convenience, and neither of them had any concerns or discomforts to air. The only delicate thing about the mingling of hers and his is the washer cycle setting.
Tommy grabbing the wrong t-shirt, though, was both enough to make its own mark in Felicity’s memory—representative of a crossroads between exposing or maintaining secrecy of their relationship, and the path she and Tommy decisively took together—and the last bit of weight needed to tip the scales.
It’s one thing for Tommy to collect his own t-shirt from Felicity’s place because that’s where he’d last left it—simple enough. It’s another to recall that said shirt was in the shared load of laundry recently tossed in the wash, and to pluck it from the drying rack.
But to make the retrieval by reflex, without double-checking his selection, and not noticing the mistake until well after tugging the shirt on and dashing out the door? That speaks to a certain comfort and confidence—knowledge that what Tommy needs is right there for him—and turns up the volume on the domesticity that’s been quietly forming between them both.
So, yes, it starts with the t-shirt. And now that Felicity has made a point to pay closer attention and take note, the incidents have only piled up from there.
The dishes were next. Ever since the apology-celebration dinner, Tommy has required fewer and fewer directions to the proper places of each glass and baking pan, plate and casserole dish. A non-zero number of times since then, Felicity has amassed a stack of dirty dishware in the sink—too entangled in a project to spare the time or thought to the height of the mountain—only to be greeted some time later by a soft peck to her crown, the lingering scent of dish soap on Tommy’s skin, and nearly every piece of crockery in their correct cabinets.
Then came the unspoken establishment of Tommy’s preferred spot on the couch—tucked up against the left arm, with room to swing his legs up and stretch out (or to allow Felicity to do so while curled into his side). The accommodation of his morning and nighttime routines to a space that isn’t his own, and knitting them seamlessly into her habits. His new tendency of using “we” and “heading home” in conjunction with each other to tell their friends that they were departing after a long night.
(The first few times he’d said it, the “heading home” part, Felicity figured that he’d changed his mind about staying over—that they’d leave together, he’d drop her off, and then return to his place. Except Tommy had given that exact goodbye to Oliver last night, but not a parting word to Felicity on her doorstep, nor in the bathroom between brushing their teeth, nor in the bedroom before she’d switched off the nightstand lamp—nothing but a soft good night murmured against her neck as they settled, her tank top-covered back pressed to his bare chest.)
And in the still of early morning—not unreasonably so, but a less-than-preferable hour for night-owl club managers and vigilante associates—Felicity finds her latest scrap of evidence in watching the rise and fall of Tommy’s chest.
He’s dead to the world, curled on his left side with his hand sandwiched between the pillow and his ear. The right lies loosely atop the mattress, palm half-turned upwards as if waiting for Felicity’s to slip into it, the perfect fit. It’s a temptation to be resisted, though—at least until her eyes have completed their careful assessment.
A breath just shy of a snore escapes Tommy’s lips, parted in a sliver. The rest of his face is slack and smooth as he draws in a deep, long inhale in return, with nary a frown line nor pillow-faceplant crease furrowed into his skin. Only the faint fluttering behind his eyelids accompanies the movement of his chest, assuring that he’s far from consciousness and not in any distress over it.
That’s not something Felicity has been able to confidently conclude before.
When the longtime empty echo of a complicated, isolated childhood turns into a call-and-response, it strengthens the tongue enough to bear the weight of telling the painful things. It’s an excavation that Tommy and Felicity have each performed a few times over the months of their relationship thus far, and their hearts have been contented by the listening ears of a like soul.
Tommy’s sleep habits were not the first of such confessions, nor his second, but Felicity had gotten an inkling of the truth within their first few nights together. From the way he’d be quick to rouse (even sleepily so) if she made the slightest shift to get up in the morning, to the quiet heartbreak on his face in deeper sleep, to the desperate cling of his arms around her and frantic thrum of his heart against her back some nights, it was clear that a part of lonely, abandoned eight-year-old Tommy persisted in unconsciousness.
By the time he mustered the courage and words enough to explain—to paint the picture of an empty mansion (a home no longer a home) and dark, cold, silent nights without family to run to and assure that he’s not alone—Tommy had had about five noticeable bouts of disrupted, tense sleep on nights Felicity spent at his, and two or three when he’d stayed at hers. While she’d tagged the disparity, it had been easy enough to rationalize away: they’d headed back to his apartment after a couple high-stress cases, and her place when they’d been run ragged but could rest easy. If he was prone to nightmares in his own home, surely he’d have to be wiped in order to sleep so soundly in a still-fairly-new location.
It had taken a while longer to consider that the fitful nights of sleep were prevalent because Tommy was in his own apartment—a place with one signature on the paperwork, which could be just as lonely as the old Merlyn Manor on nights spent apart. By contrast, Felicity’s was a comfort due both to the relative unfamiliarity and the fact that it belonged to someone else.
Tommy feeling safe and accompanied enough to rest as peacefully as he is now is possibly the strongest proof of at-home-ness that Felicity could have expected, and she can’t help but smile at the warmth swelling in her chest.
“Quarter for your thoughts?” Tommy murmurs, somehow sensing her triumph while his eyes remain blissfully closed. Even in his slow rise to consciousness, his lips tug into the beginnings of a smile and he shuffles his body towards the center of the mattress—towards Felicity.
With the shrinking of the gap between them, it’s simple enough to reach her left hand up and brush aside a lock of dark hair that’s flopped into Tommy’s face. Felicity’s thumb skims his forehead as she follows through with the motion, the path dipping only slightly on the shallow crease that forms in his brow as he yawns. “Twenty-five whole pennies, huh?” she gets out, before involuntarily breaking into her own yawn. “Is that an adjustment for inflation?”
Task completed, her hand lifts away to tuck back into her chest, only to be intercepted by a warm palm curling lovingly secure around it.
“Mm.” Still unseeing, Tommy draws their clasped hands in and grazes the tips of Felicity’s fingers with a feather-light kiss. “One cent is an insultingly low price for a piece of your mind. Just giving you your true appraisal value.” He punctuates the statement with a longer, firmer press of his lips, this time to her knuckles.
“So my thoughts are worth about ten minutes on a parking meter in downtown Starling,” Felicity muses, the words flowing slow and smooth as she melts under Tommy’s tender ministrations. “I’ll take that.”
A gentle tug and turn of her hand allows Tommy to mark Felicity’s inner wrist as the next stop on his trail of kisses. Lips meet skin right above her pulse, which flutters quick yet strong against them. “Got plans already for those ten minutes?”
While Felicity has nothing currently in mind, she would not be hard-pressed to find a reason to put that hard-earned quarter to use. That said, she’s not exactly in a rush, and can think of better, more important ways to spend the day.
“Not today, no,” she admits with a little sigh as Tommy’s lips continue the path down her forearm. “Not planning to go anywhere, actually.”
“No?” The vibration of the word against her inner elbow draws a light laugh out of Felicity, and another set when Tommy grins and his faint morning stubble tickles the skin.
“Nope,” Felicity confirms, and scoots in to close the last couple of inches between them before Tommy can go for her bicep. To make up for the disruption (and calm the tiny noise of protest that rumbles in his throat), she presses her forehead gently to his. “Let’s just stay home today. You and me.”
Just as she hoped, the statement coaxes those breathtakingly blue eyes out from behind their lids, which bob slowly at half-mast for a moment before opening fully. Tommy’s gaze is searching, hopeful, once the sleep-fog clears and he can focus on Felicity’s face.
Warmly, she matches his stare, and wills him to read the unspoken.
“Home” is where you feel comfortable, feel safe. This is your home if you want it to be.
Tommy’s breath catches almost inaudibly, and Felicity knows he’s seen it.
“Staying home,” he repeats slowly, voice suddenly rough as if they haven’t already been carrying on a whole conversation. His throat bobs like he’s swallowed something thick and heavy, but his eyes gleam with nothing but light and love.
Not wanting to lead Tommy with words, Felicity just nods, her forehead rocking against his and rubbing their noses together.
Nearly too quick to process, her hand is left gripping nothing but air, and Tommy’s arm bands around her in a snuggling embrace.
“Staying home.” A brilliant smile flashes across his face, prelude to the loving peck he delivers to Felicity’s lips. “You and me, right here, all day. I like the sound of that.”
Tommy probably can’t see it while they’re still forehead-to-forehead, but he can surely feel the arch of Felicity’s eyebrow in reaction. “Maybe not right here, all day,” she amends. “We’ll have to get out of bed at some point, you know.”
“Says who?” There’s that cheeky grin again. “I thought we didn’t have any plans, and I can think of plenty that don’t require a change in venue.”
“I’m sure you can,” Felicity retorts, paying no mind to the light flush she can feel rising to her skin. “But if you don’t brush your teeth, I might change my mind and make some other arrangements, party of one.” To emphasize the ultimatum, she takes a pointed sniff and wrinkles her nose in offense.
That earns her a fond eye-roll, but Tommy’s expression contorts into one of concession. “Well, you’re not minty-fresh this morning either, but point taken.” Heaving a dramatic sigh, he secures his arm around Felicity and rolls onto his back, dragging her along while pressed to his chest. “I guess ‘staying home’ will just have to mean wherever you are, then.”
Said in jest as they may be, Felicity hears nothing but the truth in those words.
[Been hacking away at this one for quite a while--just a bit of sheer silliness, which I guess falls right in line with the prompt.]
Prompt from StephK on AO3: "How about Felicity taking care of Tommy while he's sick or loopy from anesthesia and him saying crazy things"
“You were right,” Tommy declares, his voice filled with the kind of airy cheer that only high-strength pain medication can inspire.
“Yeah?” Felicity prompts with a sort of breathless grunt, bouncing on the balls of her feet to hitch his arm into a more secure position over her shoulders. Though compacted by the weight of the situation (and Tommy himself), the corners of her mouth nonetheless turn up in a fond smile. “About what?”
The last word dovetails into a startled squawk when Tommy abruptly leans into Felicity’s side, upsetting the careful balance she’d barely managed to establish and threatening to topple them both over. Reflexes kicking into overdrive, she firmly plants her feet and steels herself to halt their descent.
“Who says it’s ‘bout something specific?” Tommy counters cheekily, completely oblivious to his sudden shift in weight and just how close he came to eating carpet. A mischievous glint crystallizes in the clear blue of his eyes as his head lolls to face Felicity. “Maybe I just know that those are some of your very favorite words.”
Felicity uses the exhale from her little huff of laughter to heave Tommy—in all his fit, noodly-limbed glory—back upright. “That is one of the two three-word combinations I most enjoy hearing you say,” she admits, following through with a playful hip-check as she straightens.
“See?” Tommy drawls with a delighted giggle, eyebrows shot high in triumph. “I know you so well.” To punctuate, he lifts his index finger and drifts it towards Felicity’s face, likely to deliver a loving nose-boop.
Preferring to avoid an accidental poke in the eye, Felicity is quick to release the wrist flopped over her shoulder in favor of intercepting the other as gently as she can.
“You do,” she agrees, voice oozing with excessive sweetness to draw Tommy’s startlingly-bright eyes to hers and distract him from their lowering hands. “And do you know what I’d love even more, right now?”
Tommy just lets out a little hum of curiosity, head lolling atop his neck like a dashboard bobblehead dog. The accompanying dopey grin only ratchets up the adorability, making it even harder for Felicity to keep her mind on her mission and not be swayed.
“What I’d love,” she repeats, “is to get you off your feet—and off my back, literally—and onto that couch.” She jerks her head to the right for emphasis, and heaves their combined weight after it.
Not that the effort gets them far at all, when stubbornness is a game two can play.
“Tempting, tempting,” Tommy muses, slipping his hand free of Felicity’s grip to rub his chin in exaggerated thought. “There’s the comfy couch, and then there’s hanging around with my giiiiirl.” He pouts. “Do I have to choose?”
“Oh, you do.” This time Felicity accompanies the sugary tone with a sunny smile. “And your choices are either a) you cooperate, and we hobble the last few steps over and get you settled in as delicately as possible.” She bobs her head to mark that option, before continuing, “Or b) ‘your girl’ tosses you where you stand—broken foot or not—and you figure out your own landing.”
This time, Tommy’s free hand drops to his heart in overwhelming offense. “You wouldn’t.”
Felicity counters with an arched eyebrow and a tip of her chin. “But I thought you knew me so well?” she echoes, a sharp bite of challenge under the sweet coating.
“Onward to comfort!” Tommy immediately blurts, lurching forward as if to physically outrun the looming threat of catapulting via tiny blonde.
Now that they’re back on the same wavelength, the last leg of their trip across the living room carpet is much less arduous than it could have been. Still, they take it slow, with Felicity’s left arm wrapped securely around Tommy’s back to guide his single-footed hopping.
She stops him with a gentle squeeze before he rams his uninjured toes into the base of the couch, and immediately those devastatingly blue eyes find hers again. “Let’s get that ‘delicately settled in’ part down, yeah?” she suggests softly, tilting her head to the open cushion.
Sobering (in a sense of the term) suddenly after his heavily-medicated roguish streak, Tommy gives a little nod of acknowledgement. With that go-ahead, the two of them work in tandem to pivot and ease him down to sit.
They miraculously make it through both of those steps without issue before Tommy—still subdued—cuts back in. “I have a confession to make.”
Felicity’s breath catches warily at his words and demeanor, unsure if she wants to hear it. If the admission is capable of tanking such a giggly high in mere moments, it’s probably one that should be discussed when they’re both in full possession of their faculties.
Tommy, it seems, has no such qualms, and it comes tumbling out nonetheless.
“I didn’t just say ‘you were right’ because I know you like it,” he reveals, hunching his shoulders as he sinks back against the couch arm. He meets Felicity with a deeply apologetic stare. “I meant that you were right about these being the good aspirins.”
There’s a fleeting urge to beat him over the head with something in retaliation for that scare, but it only lingers long enough for a deep sigh to gust out of Felicity’s nose. The disproportionate guilt is clearly just another side effect, and further evidence that Tommy is lightyears out of his right mind—she’ll give him this pass.
(Plus, given the super-charged strength of the painkillers, she’s not even sure he’d feel the collision of a baking pan to the back of the head, so it’d be moot.)
“You and I both know it wasn’t aspirin that the hospital gave you,” she opts for instead, leaning in to unearth and adjust the throw pillow squashed behind Tommy’s back. “And I originally said that about also not-aspirin, because I was suffering from blood loss and Digg has incredible patience.”
“For you,” Tommy automatically tacks on to the end of the statement, well aware of how much he tests that same tolerance.
“Digg has incredible patience for me,” Felicity amends, eyes cast upwards and bobbing her head in concession.
That gets a pleased grin out of Tommy, and he shimmies into place against the fixed pillow to set his thoughts back on track. “Aspirin, not-aspirin, also not-aspirin, doesn’t matter. That’s just summ-.. sam-...” Scrunching his nose in adorable frustration, he sticks out his tongue with an audible bleh, as if the correct word will finally fall off it.
“Semantics,” Felicity supplies helpfully as she tips over the throw pillow on the opposite end of the couch to lie flat against the cushion. A split-second of consideration, and she scoots it in just a little bit closer before tapping Tommy’s left leg.
He snaps his fingers in acknowledgement of the correct word, then complies with the prompt and carefully swings his leg up onto the seat. His eyes fix on his cast-covered foot with intense focus as he lowers it to the pillow, ensuring that it’s properly elevated and can rest comfortably.
“Well, ‘semantics’ can take a hike, because I sure won’t be able to for a while,” Tommy quips, giving a little fist-pump once his foot is settled just so. “Breaking my foot taking inventory—inventory! At my own club!—should entitle me to call the good painkillers whatever I want.” His gaze flits to Felicity, catching her mid-reach for the fuzzy blue blanket slung over the back of the couch, and he pointedly adds, “And be immensely grateful for my wonderful girlfriend and her aid in my convalescence.”
“Flatterer,” Felicity deadpans with a fond eye-roll, unfurling the blanket with a muffled snap and draping it over his extended leg. With that settled, she folds her arms across her chest and arches a brow at Tommy. “That’s only going to get you so far, you know. If you purposely start being difficult, I walk.”
“Oh, I am aware.” Tommy tucks his good leg under the blanket as he draws it up his lap. “That’s why I intend to be a team player from this moment forward. Promise.” He holds up two fingers, spread in the V of a peace sign.
(Felicity doesn’t have the heart to correct him, nor point out that “scout’s honor” doesn’t carry a lot of weight if the proclaimer was never a scout.)
“So consider me fully committed to Team Smerlyn for the extent of my recovery,” Tommy continues, hand still raised. A beat, and the peace sign droops as he pulls a face. “Smerlyn. Smerrrrrrlyn. Huh, not really liking the sound of that, actually.”
Felicity’s pretty sure her expression mirrors Tommy’s, but just a few shades off from the pain med loopiness. “Yeah, not a fan,” she agrees, taking a seat on the floor and propping one elbow up on the couch cushion.
Tommy gives a little shake of his head, but keeps at it. “Smerlyn. Smer-Smo. Smoarlyn? Oooh!” His eyes light up as he nearly jolts off the couch. “Do we have marshmallows?”
Felicity immediately pops up to her knees to press Tommy back down before he aggravates his injured foot, brow furrowed as she turns over that last question. Marshmallows…?
Oh. So this is what it’s like to be on the receiving end of verbal whiplash.
“S’mores. Smoarlyn.” Tommy repeats the two words until they slur together into nonsense, and he trips over them with a chortle. It turns into an inspired gasp a moment later, and he snaps his head towards Felicity. “It’s the perfect fit!”
“It fits because we’re like s’mores?” Felicity guesses, sitting back on her heels as her hand trails over the front of Tommy’s t-shirt. Fueled as it is by painkillers, she’s certain that his train of thought runs on some sort of logical track, just maybe not one she can immediately perceive.
Tommy nods enthusiastically, bright eyes locked onto Felicity’s as his hand wraps around the back of hers. “Yep! Because you make me feel all soft and gooey and melty.” He lifts her hand up from his chest just enough to graze his lips over her fingers when he rolls his head forward. “And you’re sweet, of course.”
“Of course,” Felicity echoes back with a wink, the pieces all snapping together with that explanation. She turns her palm in Tommy’s grip so their palms are pressed together, and slips her fingers into the spaces between his. “Though let me guess: it’s especially nice when you’re feeling… crumby?”
Sure enough, the joke draws out another delighted gasp and dopey grin. “You know me so well!”
“I should hope so, being part of Team Smoarlyn,” Felicity points out, leaning in to press a smiling kiss to Tommy’s forehead.
