#fuckyesolicity

[theroncharlize]

[habibialkaysani]

Home (Oliver/Felicity; E)

Ships: Oliver/Felicity, Oliver & Laurel, Laurel & Felicity, Oliver & Ray, Diggle & Oliver

Summary: Set during 3x23. After Oliver says goodbye to Diggle, Felicity asks him to come home with her. It’s not really a question, though, not when it’s so obvious that Oliver is going to say yes.

A/N: So I figured Oliver needed a bit more closure than was provided in the finale, both in terms of the newer heroes that will be looking after his city while he’s on his road trip with Felicity, and with Felicity herself. I should warn you that things totally get out of hand (if you get my drift, lol), so please heed the rating.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

“You be well, Oliver,” said Diggle as he stepped into the elevator, and Oliver felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as Diggle turned to face him.

“You too,” Oliver replied, and as the doors closed, his heart became heavy with guilt and regret. Because he knew, had always known, that what he had done was an unspeakable act of betrayal. Equally, he knew it stung all the more because Diggle was his best friend, his brother, and Oliver knew that that was not something that could be forgiven easily.

He could remember feeling like this after betraying Tommy – and then losing him before he could even try to make amends. Oliver wished with all his heart that the same would not happen with Diggle.

Mercifully, he was not given long with his thoughts when he heard soft footsteps behind him. And despite everything, Oliver could feel his lips upturn into a smile at the presence of Felicity, even before he met her eyes.

“Is he okay?” she asked, her hand on his arm.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

“He’ll come around,” she assured him, and he could see from her eyes that in spite of everything that he had done, she still had faith in him – that she still loved him, and that thought alone gave him comfort.

Oliver stooped down and kissed her, cupping her face and catching her unawares, and he could feel her smile against his mouth. Still cradling her cheek, he leaned his forehead against hers, their breath still mingling, and he murmured, “I love you.”

Felicity beamed, her smile growing wider as she whispered back, “I love you too.” Placing her hand on his chest, she tiptoed so their noses brushed against each other. Her palm was warm on his beating heart, which quickened at her touch. “Come home with me?” she asked softly, and Oliver knew it wasn’t really a question… not when it was so obvious he was going to say yes. 

But he said it anyway, knowing he would never tire of the smile his assent elicited.

“Let me just ask Ray where he’s keeping my bike and then we can go, okay?” he said, and she nodded, still smiling. His hand trailed down from where it had been resting on her cheek to her shoulder, down her arm until her hand was in his and their fingers were tangled together. They went back into the main room, hand-in-hand, where Ray was sat at his computer, his brow furrowed as he stared at the screen. Thea and Nyssa were conversing quietly in the corner, and Laurel emerged from a nearby office, now dressed in regular clothes.

“Everything all right with Dig?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Felicity said quickly, and Oliver was grateful for that. “I… we,” she corrected herself with a slight smile, “were just leaving, actually.”

Oliver let go of Felicity’s hand, then, while she continued her conversation with Laurel, and went over to Ray. Ray looked up from his computer expectantly, an unreadable expression on his face, and before Oliver could say anything, Ray said quickly, “Your Ducati is in the room just off the reception where you left it.”

“Thank you, Ray,” said Oliver, extending his hand, and he detected Ray’s hesitance.

Nevertheless, after a moment, Ray shook Oliver’s hand. “It’s no problem.”

Oliver shook his head. “Not just for that. The city… it would have been in pieces if it weren’t for your inoculant. Not to mention,” he added meaningfully, “I definitely wouldn’t have been alive without your suit. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but we both know it’s Felicity you should be thanking. And I'm sure you already have.” It was when Ray bestowed something resembling a smile on Oliver that Oliver realised that it wasn’t bitterness in his expression, or even jealousy – it was more wistfulness and a resigned sort of acceptance.

“About Felicity –”

“It’s okay,” Ray interrupted. “Really, it is. To be honest, deep down, part of me knew it from the very first time I met you. I think, even then, it was obvious from the way she… looked at you that you made her happy. And I've realised, since, that there have always been three people in this relationship – you, Felicity and the Arrow. And that’s okay. I’ve accepted that she’s made a choice and that you have too, and that they’re the right ones. But I just need to ask one thing from you.”

“Of course I’ll take care of her,” Oliver said firmly, adding as an afterthought, “although she definitely doesn’t need it.” And this time a true smile crossed Ray’s face.

“Thank you, Oliver,” he said, and his handshake was less stoic now as their eyes met in understanding and a weird kind of respect.

Next, Oliver went over to Laurel and gestured for her to follow him outside. She raised her eyebrows but did so anyway, and the chatter from the room died down a little.

“So,” she said, the moment they were out of earshot, “you and Felicity, huh? You kept that quiet.”

“I’m sorry, I mean to say something –” Oliver began, but Laurel shook her head and laughed.

“Ollie, I was joking. You may be many things, but subtle you’re not. I’ve known how you feel about Felicity for months. And I’ve also known how she feels about you.”

“I forget how well you know me sometimes,” he admitted, chuckling too. “I also forget,” he added, “how many times I’ve said things, or done things, that have hurt you in the last year.”

“Oh?” she said, and she looked surprised but also expectant.

“Specifically… I told you months ago that you weren’t a hero. I told you – wrongly – that you were chasing the adrenaline like you had chased the booze, or the pills, and I shouldn’t have. You are a hero, Laurel – you took care of my… our city when I couldn’t, and you were a hero when I wasn’t. So I'm sorry that I ever begrudged you of that.”

Laurel smiled. “That’s nice to hear.”

“And I know for a fact that no matter how much she would want you out of harm’s way, Sara would be proud of what you’ve become. Especially after tonight.”

“To be honest, I’d be more concerned with how she would feel about you marrying Nyssa,” Laurel said, and Oliver laughed. “I would totally try and help you out with that, by the way, but Nanda Parbat isn’t exactly my jurisdiction.” She reached up and hugged him. “Thanks, Ollie.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, hugging her back. Over her shoulder, Oliver saw Felicity emerge from the office, her jacket zipped up.

“Hey,” she called, just as he let go of Laurel. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he said, and when Felicity was at his side, Laurel pulled her into a hug too.

“I’m in court all day tomorrow, so if I don’t see you before you go…” Laurel stepped back, regarding Felicity warmly. “Have fun, wherever you decide to go.”

“Thanks, Laurel,” said Felicity cheerfully. She reached forward to hug Laurel again, and after a final glance inside, Oliver pressed the button to call the elevator, just as Laurel let go and made her way back to the office. Unexpectedly, he felt Felicity’s arm circle his waist. When he looked down at her, they shared a smile, before he put his arm over her shoulders.

The elevator doors opened and they both stepped inside. No sooner had the doors shut, though, did Felicity tilt her face up to his, and automatically, Oliver leaned down to meet her kiss. A few moments later, he found himself coaxing her mouth open with his tongue, allowing him to taste her properly for the first time in weeks. Her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him against the wall of the elevator. Oliver could feel the coldness of the metal bar through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the way she punctuated each kiss with a soft pant sent shivers up his spine.

All too soon, though, the elevator doors opened, and they broke apart, both breathing heavily and laughing at the same time. But neither of them needed to say anything; instead, Felicity grabbed Oliver’s hand, leading the way out of the elevator. He could feel her pulse throbbing with anticipation as he ran his thumb across the inside of her wrist, and when they reached the right room, she reached into her jacket pocket for the key.

His Ducati was against the wall, exactly where he'd left it before he had left Starling for Nanda Parbat. "You can wear the helmet if you want," he offered, but she shook her head.

"I trust you," she said simply, and for some reason, that assuaged his guilty conscience just a little. He smiled as he began wheeling the bike out of the room and into the reception, Felicity just behind him. She took off her glasses as she followed him, placing them in the inside pocket of her jacket. Once they reached the entrance, he climbed on first, and moments later, he felt her do the same.

"Hey, Felicity," he said, "hold on to me tight." His heart soared when his words elicited a laugh from her, and he felt her bury her face into his back and her arms snake firmly around his middle. The ride was quiet, mostly, with Oliver occasionally asking if she was okay. The second time he asked, she told him to go faster, before giggling at the implications of her words. He would have laughed too, but he was more than a little preoccupied with the feeling of her breasts against his back, her chin on his shoulder and the hum of her laugh in his ears. He had his eyes on the road, but it made no difference to the feeling of her pelvis pressing against him and her thighs squashing onto his. And when he swerved unexpectedly, her hands slipped from his waist and collided with his groin for several seconds. "Sorry," she said, though she sounded anything but sorry (especially when she let one hand linger for what felt like forever before she removed it), and he could hear the smirk in her voice even though he couldn't see her face. Thankfully, they were only a few blocks away from her apartment, and before long, Oliver brought the Ducati to a halt, just next to the sidewalk. For the life of him, he couldn't even wait to dismount before twisting round and kissing her soundly on the lips. He caught her by surprise and their noses bumped, but they both just laughed, and when he got off the motorbike, he held out his hand to help her off it. Felicity took his hand, and in the light of the lamppost, he could see her smile light up even brighter than before. But he could also tell she was tired. Up close, and without her glasses, her eyes were soft, her mascara smudged around the edges and the skin under her eyes a little darker from lack of sleep. "What?" Felicity said, raising her eyebrows but still smiling. "You okay?" he asked. "I mean, you probably haven't slept in at least a couple days -" She interrupted him with a kiss. "I am so much better than okay," she told him against his mouth, "and we are not stopping until we pass out." The determination and earnestness in her voice only made him kiss her back harder. He walked backwards, feeling her hands tightening on his biceps, his lips never leaving hers, and to his relief, the gate was open. But then she moved away from him, rummaging in her pocket for her key and opening the door, and the moment the key was out of the lock, Oliver started kissing her neck from behind. Felicity just laughed, glancing to the door to her left. "We are totally going to get my neighbours talking if any of them come out," she said breathlessly, panting as she turned towards him and his mouth moved from her neck to her cheek and then her lips.

"Is that a challenge?" he murmured, and he could taste her smile as they walked down the hall together, pausing every few steps to linger on each other’s lips. It wasn’t long before they reached Felicity’s door, and he groaned when Felicity ground her hips against his while also attempting to find the correct key to open her front door. "God, I've missed you," Felicity said, sighing contentedly. "Not as much as I've missed you," Oliver countered. And when she gazed up at him, her eyes were filled with something fiery that belied the fatigue he had seen just moments before. "How much?" she whispered, and the whole time she was putting the key in the lock to open her door, she held his gaze steadily. And then he felt her hand wander below his waist and let out an involuntary moan, his eyes closing at her touch. "Oh," she said teasingly, pressing down harder and tiptoeing, her lips tantalisingly close to his. "That much?" The door was unlocked now, and he shoved it open with his elbow, all the while unzipping her jacket. She let him take it off her, and there was a rustle as it dropped off her arm and onto the floor, but then he became aware of the sound of her alarm beeping from behind him. Felicity pretended not to notice his intake of breath as she leaned over him to put in the code, her breasts pressing against his torso and causing a frisson of electricity to course through him. Then, she tapped in the code and the beeping stopped, and Oliver back-kicked the door shut just before her lips slammed against his and she pushed him against the door, switching on the light as she did so. Already, her fingers were slipping under the hem of his shirt, and he was sure he heard the thin material tear when she lifted it over his head. "Sorry," she said, and yet once again, she sounded anything but. Oliver only laughed, lifting her off her feet, his hand already between her legs and pressing as hard as he could through her jeans. "Bedroom," he growled, and his other hand was in her hair, tugging off her hair tie so her hair spilled over her shoulders. He was already walking blindly, revelling in the feeling of her legs wrapped around his hips, and he only realised that they were in her kitchen when his hand collided with one of the kitchen surfaces. “Wrong way,” she said, laughing, but he realised as she arched into him that he would have to have her right there. Lifting her from the kitchen surface, he pulled down her jeans and panties in one go, and when his knuckles brushed ever so lightly against her centre, he could her familiar wetness drip across his fingers. He looked down at her, holding her gaze as he licked his fingertips, marvelling in her sweet taste, and she let out a long breath heavy with arousal before pressing a kiss on the side of his neck, at the same time yanking down his pants with wanton force.

Her breath was kissing his ear when she murmured, “I need you, Oliver… right now.”

Hands now on her hips, Oliver obediently hoisted her onto the kitchen counter, feeling her shudder at the coldness of the surface on her warm skin. She groaned, and he gazed right into her eyes, only closing them when he was inside her, kissing her full on the mouth at the same time. He broke away after a moment, muttering, “I love you” and loving how she was biting her lip.

“Oliver…” she said, and her voice sounded so sweet, almost songlike when she whispered his name, “God, Oliver, I love you.”

His hands slid under her shirt, undoing her bra strap and caressing her breasts. He dipped his head down and kissed her breast through the fabric of her shirt, his teeth lightly scraping against her stiff nipple, leaving a damp patch on the material before his lips returned to hers. Then his hands slipped down to squeeze her buttocks, pushing his hips closer to hers. She cried out, rocking her hips and meeting his thrusts, and her hands were on his shoulders, tracing the scars on his back, her nails piercing his skin.

Gripping her thighs, he lifted her off the counter and her legs tightened around his hips. She threw her head back, hair flying, and he grunted, supporting all her weight and showering every inch of exposed skin from her chin to the beginning of her cleavage with kisses as she came with a keening cry of his name, and that was all it took for him to come too, moments later, her name a familiar, oft-uttered prayer on his tongue. Felicity buried her face in his neck, mouthing words of reverence and pleasure and love that, days ago, he would not have felt he deserved. But now, as he straightened after making love to the woman he thought he had said his last goodbye to a month ago and felt the exhilaration coursing through him, Oliver knew things were different. 

Because what what he had with Felicity was something else entirely. He felt fatigue from lack of sleep, overwhelmed by the physical exertion from being shot several times and having almost been stabbed yet again and exhaustion that inevitably came from having sex while standing up.

He felt fantastic.

Read the prequel, Euphoria (AO3/FFN)

Read the sequel, Sunlight (AO3/FFN)

Read the sequel, Please Don’t Leave (AO3/FFN)

[habibialkaysani]

Patching Up Wounds (Oliver/Felicity; G)

Summary: Set immediately after 3x14. Laurel reminds Felicity that sometimes, what Oliver needs is for someone to listen to him. So when he returns to the foundry, bearing injuries from his time on Lian Yu, Felicity does exactly that.

Ships: Oliver/Felicity, Laurel & Felicity, Laurel & Roy

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

It was just after three o’clock in the morning when Laurel and Roy descended the stairs to the foundry. When Laurel pulled off her wig, though, she revealed a nasty-looking bruise on her hairline. Felicity immediately got to her feet, heading to the first aid drawer.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Laurel said, sitting in the seat Felicity just vacated. Felicity looked up in time to see Roy scoff and roll his eyes as he took off his quiver.

“Are all vigilantes this bad at lying?” asked Felicity, and as she had hoped, Laurel smiled. Antiseptic and gauze at hand, Felicity made her way over to Laurel.

“At least we got the bad guy,” Laurel murmured. “That’s all that matters.”

“This is going to sting,” Felicity said apologetically, and Laurel nodded, closing her eyes. Felicity dabbed at the bruise, cleaning it carefully, and she was impressed – Laurel didn’t make a sound. But Felicity could see, up close, that Laurel was close to biting a chunk from her lip and knew she was only getting a little better at masking the pain. “Almost done.”

“I’ve got to go,” called Roy. “You sure you’re okay, Laurel?”

“I’ll live,” Laurel replied. “Good work today.”

Roy nodded. “You too.” He headed up the foundry stairs, and Felicity could detect a warmth between them that she had grown used to the last few weeks. She guessed that was only natural after fighting side by side more and more often.

“Covering this up will be fun,” Laurel remarked. “Still, at least it won’t leave a scar…”

“Mm,” said Felicity noncommittally, looking over Laurel’s shoulder and watching Roy go. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt anxious, something that was increasing every time she looked at either entrance of the foundry and didn’t see Oliver there.

She was surprised to feel a hand on her shoulder. “I'm sure Oliver’s fine,” Laurel said softly.

Was she that obvious? Once again, Felicity reminded herself to work on her poker face. “I'm sure he is,” she said, but it was obvious that she felt the exact opposite of her words. Quickly, she decided to change the subject. “Are you okay, Laurel?”

Felicity wasn’t sure what it was, but Laurel’s shoulders looked slumped, and she still looked like she was hurting. Just not the physical kind.

“I told Dad,” Laurel said. “About Sara.”

“Oh.” For a moment, Felicity hesitated. “What changed your mind? About telling him, I mean.”

“I figured… we may never know who killed Sara, but my dad had a right to know she’s… gone,” said Laurel slowly. “And I realised I can’t just, you know, keep using his heart as an excuse, especially when there is so much more to it than that. And especially when keeping up this – charade that Sara is still alive is hurting both of us too much.”

“What did he say?”

Tears sparkled in Laurel’s eyes, and Felicity grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “I don’t think he’s talking to me,” she managed to say, “and today, I was so scared he was going to slip. I found him at Sara’s grave with a bottle of scotch, and I thought –”

“– that he was going to fall off the wagon?” Felicity guessed, and Laurel nodded, using her other hand to wipe her eyes. “He won’t. And neither will you.”

“You know, the whole reason I got on that wagon, and stayed on it, was because of Sara.” And somehow, Laurel managed a watery smile, which Felicity returned. “Dad kept telling me to get help, even dragged me to an AA meeting, but I only went when I found out Sara was alive and I had reconciled with her.” Laurel paused and scoffed, remembering something. “Just a few days ago, Ollie was telling me I was an addict, that I was getting a high out of kicking the crap out of bad guys instead of booze or pills.”

“Well, I can tell you now that that was a dick move on his part,” Felicity said, adding as an afterthought, “Yet another reason for me to be mad at him.”

As soon as she said the words, though, she wished she hadn’t, and it was clear Laurel noticed as well.

“Yeah, I noticed things seem… frosty with you two lately,” she said.

“You could say that,” Felicity said. “I just feel like he doesn’t listen to me anymore. Ever since he came back, everything I’ve wanted him to do, he’s done the opposite.”

“Like what?”

Not for the first time, Felicity felt guilt at the secrets she was holding from Laurel – about Merlyn, about Thea. And, not for the first time, she felt resentment towards the very person she was so anxious to make sure was okay.

“It’s complicated,” Felicity said, looking at Laurel apologetically.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. But maybe… maybe he needs you to listen to him instead,” Laurel suggested.

Thankfully, before Felicity could think up a reply, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps that made them both look up. Oliver emerged from the side entrance, and from a cursory glance, he looked okay.

“Thank God,” said Felicity under her breath.

“Hey,” he said, attempting a smile at them both but only succeeding in a grimace. He gestured to the bruise on Laurel’s forehead. “What happened there?”

Laurel shook her head. “It’s nothing. Are you and Thea okay?”

“Fine,” he replied, and for some reason, he seemed to be hesitating. “Actually, Laurel, do you mind… giving me and Felicity a minute, please?”

Turning away from Oliver, Laurel raised her eyebrows at Felicity, giving her a knowing look. “Sure,” she said. “I have a deposition at nine, so I have to get going anyway.”

Patting Felicity on the arm and giving a last smile to Oliver, Laurel picked up her handbag and left through the foundry’s side entrance.

It was only when she heard the door close that Felicity spoke. “What is it?” she asked, unable to keep the brusqueness from entering her voice. He took a tentative step towards her, and it was then that she noticed, now he was in the light, that the lines in his face had tightened and he looked like he was in pain. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” he said, but no sooner had the words left his mouth did his knees buckle beneath him. Felicity ran forward only just in time, barely managing to support most of his weight.

“Whoa,” she said, and with great effort, she pulled one arm over her shoulders. “Let’s sit you down.”

The bed was nearest. Felicity carefully manoeuvred him onto it, and by this time, he seemed a little less disoriented. He started taking off his jacket, and as he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a poorly bandaged wound, she realised the cause of his sudden dizziness.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Booby trap,” he muttered, pulling back the bandage, and he groaned.

“That’s definitely infected,” Felicity said, peering at it. The wound had turned a nasty colour. She bent down, retrieving his trunk from beneath his bed, and she found the stock of magic herbs he had from the island. Grabbing a handful, she got up, finding the bottle of water she’d been drinking from earlier, and gave them both to Oliver before going to the first aid drawer for the gauze and antiseptic.

Thankfully, when she returned to his bed and sat beside him, some of the colour had returned to his face, and he was already looking better than before.

“Wow, those herbs really are magic.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, and for what felt like the first time in weeks, Felicity smiled at him.

“It’s what I'm here for,” she said. She started cleaning Oliver’s wound. Usually, when she was patching him up, he was much better than Laurel, barely flinching, but today, he was wincing the whole time. “So,” she said conversationally, “what did you want to talk to me about?”

He looked her in the eyes for the first time that night, but after a few seconds, he looked away. “It was nothing,” he lied. “Forget about it.”

She looked at him scathingly, carefully cleaning the tiny woody debris from the wound. But at the look on his face, she couldn’t help but soften. “Hey,” she said, “remember that time, years ago, you told me that if I ever need to tell someone about my day, I could tell you?”

Oliver looked taken aback, as if surprised she still could recall that conversation. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Well,” she said, getting up for scissors and tape, “you know that that goes both ways, right?”

“Even now?” he asked, and the tension that she had been able to keep at bay this whole time threatened to flare once more as she returned to his side.

“Especially now,” she said firmly, busying herself with cutting pieces of tape so she wouldn’t have to look at his face. “What happened?”

Oliver signed. “Slade Wilson,” he said, and immediately, Felicity’s shoulders sank. “Merlyn let him out, as… as a way for me to get back my killer instinct.”

“Well,” said Felicity, fixing the gauze on the wound, “I hate to say I told you so.”

For some reason, this made him smile weakly. “You would love to say I told you so.”

“Not when it’s your life – and Thea’s – on the line instead of your pride. Is she okay?” she asked. “I'm guessing training on an island with landmines, booby traps and a crazy killer on the loose wasn’t exactly her idea of fun.”

“Apart from when I had to save her from my own trap, she… took to it really well. Much better than I expected.”

“You don’t seem all that thrilled for her,” Felicity observed. “Actually, you look like you’re in ten kinds of pain right now.”

“You did just take out bits of bamboo from my arm, Felicity,” said Oliver.

“No,” she said slowly, “not that kind.”

Oliver hesitated. “You’re right,” he said at last. “I… told her about Sara.” 

“I’m sorry, Oliver,” she said gently. “I can’t imagine what that must be like for you. Did she… say anything?”

“Not much. I’ve never seen her like this, Felicity. The entire plane ride, she didn’t say anything. Not a word. And I just don’t know what to do. Especially knowing it’s all –”

“Don’t even think about saying any of this is your fault,” she cut across him. “You’re in this mess because of Merlyn. No one else. And yeah, it sucks that you had to tell her, but the only way you can get through this – Thea too – is to take it in your stride and keep going forward. You taught me that.”

Only now did she realise her hand had been resting on his arm the whole time when she was speaking. Oliver seemed to realise it too. “Is that done?” he asked, and when she nodded, he moved his arm away, releasing the sleeve of his shirt. “Thank you.”

For a while, he was quiet, and Felicity became aware of their close proximity – on his bed, no less. She stood up and started returning the first aid supplies to their place, hoping the space would alleviate the tension.

Her back was to him when he spoke again. “She tried to kill him.” Felicity looked up, eyebrows raised. “My sister held a gun at Slade Wilson – and she pulled the trigger.”

“I take it she missed?” Felicity guessed. At Oliver’s sound of assent, she said, “Well, she did what any normal person would do. If someone killed my mom and was threatening to kill me, I’d want to do the same to them.”

“I get that,” he said wearily, “but this was… more.”

“Because you had just told your sister she killed someone?”

“Not just that.” He was rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, the way he always did when he was nervous. “Do you know the worst thing I could possibly wish upon my enemy?”

“Spoiling their favourite TV show?” she offered, and she felt comforted when his lips twitched into a smile. She sat back down, this time at the other end of the bed, keeping a distance between them.

“No. it would be… for them to start seeing their own worst qualities in the people they love.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Thea, Laurel, Sara, even – all I have ever wanted is for them to have normal lives. And now, because of me, because of the things I set in motion, they’ve become… soldiers.”

“I notice you didn’t include Roy and John there.”

“John was already a soldier when he joined me. And Roy – being on the streets had roughed him up, so what he does now isn’t so different. But Thea… seeing her willing and able to fight for her life… and Laurel, throwing herself in the line of fire day in, day out… it’s not who they are. Who they’re supposed to be.”

“Laurel told me you said some pretty hurtful things to her last week,” Felicity said. “Are you saying you did all that, said all that, to protect her? To stop her… from being just like you?”

He didn’t say anything for several moments. “You heard Laurel. She has a deposition in about –” he checked his watch “– five hours.”

“So?”

“So, she should be prosecuting people. Being an ADA. Not –”

“– doing what you do?” she finished. “Unlike some people, Oliver, I think Laurel can do both.”

And there it was. She had laid it out for him, bitterness, resentment and all, for him to see loud and clear. It did not go unnoticed by him, either – he closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, the ache of everything hanging unsaid between them painfully apparent.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said finally. “I don’t doubt that Laurel can do her job and be a vigilante. Just like I don’t doubt Thea’s ability to mix drinks because she suddenly knows how to fight. But – she shouldn’t have to learn to fight. She should just be – I don’t know, worrying about which DJ to hire, or something, not about what to do when Ra’s tries to break her neck in her sleep.”

“If he does,” she tried to say in an attempt to reassure him, but Oliver shook his head.

“It’s going to happen. Nyssa knows Thea is Malcolm’s daughter, and Ra’s definitely knows I'm still alive. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Did Slade say something to you?” she asked, furrowing her brow. “Because, Oliver, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Like what?”

“So… helpless. Like you don’t know what comes next.”

“He told me I'm going to lose everyone,” Oliver said in a hollow voice. He didn’t say “including you”, but he may as well have, because Felicity could tell that was what he meant. “He said I’ve already lost Thea. And he said that once I’ve lost everyone, there will be nothing left of me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Felicity patiently. “Look, I get it. I get that going back to the island brought back memories. It’s bound to. And it’s difficult seeing what happened to you happen all over again to Thea. But what you’ve got to understand is that you can’t always save her from incoming trains. Or, you know, booby traps.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” she said, “there will always be more trains.”

“You’re saying I shouldn’t try to save my sister?”

“No. I'm saying that, somehow, you have to get your head around the idea that she can save herself.”

“I guess,” he said, but he didn’t look convinced.

“And she will get through all of this. With Merlyn, with Sara, with Ra’s. I know she will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“She has you,” Felicity said simply, and she couldn’t stop herself from placing her hand on his. It was warm and rough and familiar, and he squeezed her hand in response.

He sighed, his fatigue beginning to show, but when he looked up at her, his expression was one of gratitude. Before she knew it, though, the spell was over, and Felicity found herself extricating her hand from his grasp and getting to her feet. The wall between them had returned.

“You’re probably shattered,” she said, “and it’s been a long night. I should get going.” He nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said, proffering a smile. She managed to smile back, and she was halfway up the stairs when his voice made her stop.

“Felicity?”

“Yeah?” she said, her back still to him.

“Thank you. For listening.”

She turned to face him and smiled properly this time. “Anytime.”

Read the prequel, Heroism (AO3/FFN)

Read the sequel, Pretty Birds (AO3/FFN)

[habibialkaysani]

One More Person (Oliver/Felicity; G)

Summary: Set directly after 3x02. After telling Ray Palmer she will work for him, Felicity goes back to the foundry, where she and Oliver confront some home truths about their changing relationship.

Ships: Oliver/Felicity, Oliver/Sara, Felicity & Sara

A/N: So in the absence of a new episode this week, I went back and watched 3x02. Needless to say, I sobbed the whole way through and ended up writing this.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

It was late, past ten o’clock, when Felicity pulled up outside Verdant. The drive to Queen Consolidated had distracted her. So had her meeting with Ray Palmer. He wasn’t as bad as she thought. She realised that underneath his cocky exterior, and in spite of his previous actions, she could tell he was a decent person. Felicity had mostly let him talk, about contracts and salaries and how he wanted to rebrand Starling City.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and there was a breeze in the night air as she got out of her car. She pushed back several strands that had flown in front to obscure her vision before making her way to the club’s entrance. It was quiet, as expected, but when she opened the door to the foundry and went down the stairs, she was surprised that only Oliver was there. He was clad just in his jeans and gloves, punching at the sparring dummy with all his might. His forehead was covered in sweat, and when she moved closer, she realised his cheeks were wet, too.

When he saw her, he didn’t say anything at first. He leaned against the dummy’s arms, his eyes closed, and it seemed to take him several long moments before he could bring himself to look up at her.

“I… didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, but even as she spoke, she could feel her own voice tremble. The lump in her throat that she had been able to so successfully ignore for the last hour was back.

Oliver shook his head. “I was just about to suit up and get going, actually.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows and walked over to the computers. “It seems pretty quiet tonight,” she said, “and it looks like you could do with the rest. Where’s Roy?”

“I told him to go home,” he said. “He seemed pretty upset over Thea – he probably wasn’t in the best shape to be on the streets.”

“Good call,” said Felicity, and then she looked pointedly at him. “You’re not in the best shape either.”

Ordinarily, she would have expected an argument, but instead, Oliver’s shoulders slumped in resignation and he went over to his bed, pulling on his grey hoodie.

“I’m glad he told you about Thea,” she said when the silence had stretched on for too long. “He needed to.”

“Yeah,” he replied wearily. “Now I have to find her. And that’s… assuming she’s not in trouble.”

“I'm sure she’s okay,” she tried to assure him, but she could see the worry in his face. She hesitated, wheeling her chair forward a little so it was closer to his bed. “Are you?”

He met her eyes properly, then, for the first time since she entered the foundry. “No,” he said honestly. “Not really.”

The earnestness in his eyes made something in her break, and she quickly turned her chair around, wiping the tears from her face. Part of her wondered why she’d even come down here in the first place, because at that moment, she felt worse than she had even when they were burying Sara.

Her back was still to him when he spoke. “I loved her,” he said quietly, and if it wasn’t for their proximity, she wouldn’t have heard him. She wheeled her chair around again, aware of the tear tracks still on her face. “I mean, even when we were together, part of me knew that we were in love with other – that she was in love with someone else,” he amended, “but I still loved her.”

“I know you did,” she said softly. “And I know how difficult this must be for you – more than anyone else.”

“What do you mean?”

She didn’t want to say it. “You know what,” Felicity said, but his brow was furrowed in confusion.

Then he understood. “I saw her die before,” he said eventually. He scoffed, shaking his head, and for a moment, it looked like a fresh wave of tears was going to overwhelm him. But like her, he managed – just about – to ignore them and soldier on. “You know, each time I saw her die, there was a part of me that hoped – that prayed she would come back. I just can’t stop thinking that it was only two days ago that she was helping me take down Zytle and telling me… telling me that she would be in Starling for a while. And even now, for the first time, I’ve seen her dead body and helped bury her, but I can’t help thinking, even though I know it’s stupid –”

She shook her head. “It really isn’t stupid. I’ve had the same thought before. It’s kind of funny... she was the one to tell me that once people are dead, that’s it.”

“It wasn’t for Sara,” he said. “She came back twice.”

Felicity thought for a moment. “Three times if you count when she took the poison.”

“You know about that?”

“She told me.” He looked surprised, but he didn’t say anything.

“You’d think it would get easier,” said Oliver after a while, and his voice had hardened and become brittle, “with all the people I’ve loved and lost. With practice. I figured I was used to it by now.”

“No,” Felicity said firmly, “that’s not how it works.”

“I know,” he said hoarsely. “It doesn’t get easier with time. Far from it. But it does become second nature eventually.”

This time, when the tears trickled down his cheeks, he didn’t turn away and neither did she. She wanted to get up and march over to his bed to embrace him, to tell him it was okay, but she knew she couldn’t. It was too soon. “I meant to say,” she said, “about what I said earlier… I'm sorry. I was upset, about Sara, about a lot of things –”

“I'm the one who should be apologising,” Oliver interrupted.

“What for?”

But the look in his eyes said it all. “For… everything that’s happened.”

She shook her head, and the lump in her throat was returning. “Don’t. Please don’t. You apologised already.”

The truth was that she didn’t want to talk about it. She had hoped, secretly, before they had descended the foundry’s steps to find Sara’s dead body, that they might have been able to patch things up, talk about their disastrous first date without either of them walking away. She had even hoped, stupidly, that she might have got him to change his mind. But she knew, now – his commitment was here, in this dark, cold foundry. He had chosen the faceless hero in a green hood over her. And she wasn’t okay with it – God, she was far from okay right now – but she knew talking about it would make no difference. Not now Oliver’s choice was made.

What he said next, however, was not what she expected. “I told you that I couldn’t be me and the Arrow,” he said, “but what I didn’t say was… how close I was to losing you. When the restaurant got blown up, for a moment, I thought you were –”

“But I was fine,” she said.

“This time you were,” he said, “but what would I have done, Felicity, if – if something had happened to you?” Felicity found her grip on one of the chair’s arms tighten, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything if she tried. “Like something happened to Tommy, my mother, my father, Shado, Sara… and now, maybe even my sister who has been God knows where for the last –”

“Stop,” she pleaded, finally finding it in herself to cut through his now-familiar litany. “Don’t think like that. I'm sure Thea is fine. And I will help you find her.” At last, she got up and took a few steps towards him, placing her hand on his arm. He made to tug his arm away, getting to his feet, but she didn’t let him. “And I'm still here. Both of us… are still here.”

He closed his eyes. “And if you want it to stay that way, we can’t – I can’t –”

“I get it,” she said. “You still need to save the city.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “plus one more person.”

She felt her hand fall away. So that was what this was about.

Felicity found herself walking away from him, pushing her chair back to the computers. (She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.)

Before she was able to pull up the first random thing on the screen she could think of, though, she heard his footsteps as he came to stand behind her. She looked up at him; he looked like he was about to say something, but she got there first.

“There is something I need to tell you,” she said, looking him square in the eye and wordlessly begging him not to say anything else. “You… probably won’t like it.”

To her relief, he seemed to understand. “Okay.”

After taking a deep breath, she said, “I decided to work for Ray Palmer at Queen Consolidated.”

To his credit, he didn’t even look annoyed. Not really. “I see,” Oliver said eventually.

“He kind of bought Tech Village, so as far as he’s concerned, he’s already my boss. He also pointed out, quite rightly, that if I worked for him at QC, I wouldn’t have to wear that awful uniform.”

Something approaching a smile graced his lips. “It didn’t look that bad. And blue is definitely your colour.”

Though she couldn’t quite manage a smile in return, she appreciated his weak attempt at humour nevertheless. “You’re okay with this, right?”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s your life. Your choice.”

“I know it can’t be easy, seeing someone else take over your family’s company –”

Oliver shook his head. “I meant what I said. Being CEO – it’s something the old me would have done. The one that thought I could be Oliver Queen and the Arrow.” He was veering dangerously close to the very topic Felicity had made it clear she wanted to avoid, and she could tell he realised this too. “Palmer’s clearly a smart guy, and I'm sure he’ll do more with the company than I ever could have. Especially with you by his side.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“This is probably a good time for me to tell you something, too,” he said. “I was planning on telling you earlier, you know, before…” He couldn’t bring himself to continue, but she got what he meant.

“What?”

“Barry called me a couple of days ago. He woke up.”

She was wondering when he was going to mention this. “I know,” Felicity said.

“You do?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I heard you guys talking on that rooftop,” she admitted. “Some story.”

Oliver looked strangely relieved. “Yeah,” he said. “That it is.”

“To be honest, I didn’t believe it at first, but… after learning human weapons were real, super speed didn’t seem much of a stretch.”

“Over the past few years, I’ve seen a lot of things out there that defy proper explanation,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” she said. “I guess Central City is getting a new guardian angel.”

“Are you going to go and see him?”

“Probably not right away,” said Felicity, “with the new job and all. But soon, yeah.”

He checked his watch. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“I'm still processing Sara’s autopsy,” she said, “but as soon as that’s done, I can go. I never thought I’d have to say the word ‘autopsy’ and ‘Sara’ in the same sentence,” Felicity added as an afterthought, “but I guess I’ll get used to that.”

She regarded him, noticing as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together in the way he always did when he was worried or nervous or trying to decide something. “Actually,” he said finally, “do you mind if you go through some of it with me? See if there are clues I can follow up?”

So that was what he wanted to do – work the case, like it was any other. Well, it couldn’t hurt either of them, she thought. Sighing, she said, “Sure.”

And once again, as she talked STR markers, fingerprints and body temperature, she managed to push her grief to one side. Temporarily, at least, she could forget – about Sara, about Oliver, about everything.

[habibialkaysani]

Heroism (Oliver/Felicity; G)

Summary: Set after 3x05. Sometimes, Felicity needs to be reminded that she's a hero, too. After spending the day with her mother, Felicity contemplates what Oliver said to her. With a helpful nudge in the right direction from Laurel, she ends up finding comfort in the unlikeliest of places - the bottom of a shot-glass filled with vodka - with Oliver himself. On his bed, no less.

Ships: Oliver/Felicity, Felicity & Donna, Laurel & Felicity, Felicity & Sara, Felicity/Cooper

A/N: There are a few nods to Arrow Season 2.5 here, specifically issue #16. It's not hugely spoilery, though, and you definitely don't need to read it to understand this story.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

Starling City Airport was busy in spite of the late hour, with people milling about laden with luggage, some saying their farewells to loved ones and others checking watches and waiting at arrivals. It was nearing ten o'clock when two blonde women hurried inside. "Well, I guess this is goodbye," said Donna Smoak. Felicity nodded, smiling at her mother and trying to swallow the lump that had unexpectedly formed in her throat. "Thanks for dropping me off, sweetie." "It's fine," Felicity replied quickly. "Just call me when you land, okay?" To Felicity's relief, Donna pretended to ignore the way her daughter's voice trembled for a moment and instead enveloped her into a warm Chanel-smelling hug. "And Mom?" she said, when her mother had released her. "I'm sorry about... Cooper, and you know, everything that happened. Your first trip to Starling since forever and we both got kidnapped – it’s probably not exactly the vacation you expected." "Considering how you got us out of there and saved our lives, Felicity, it sounds like it's just another day at the office for you," Donna said, in that gently knowing way of hers that made Felicity wonder if her mother knew more than she was letting on. If she did, Felicity thought, she was being surprisingly chill about it. "You saved our lives.” 

The sinking feeling in her stomach lessened just a little when her mother said that. “Not without help.” 

But Donna shook her head. “You don’t need to apologise, Felicity, and you definitely don't have to worry about me. I'm fine. In fact, I'm more than fine. I got to spend the day with my daughter, and I got to see the life you've built here. It seems to be a good one, and I promise you, nothing could make me happier." Felicity gave her mother a watery smile. "Thank you," she murmured. "Now go on. You're going to be late." Donna leaned forward and kissed her daughter's cheek. "I love you, sweetheart." "Love you too, Mom," said Felicity, giving her one final hug.  "By the way," said Donna, as she got ready to wheel her suitcase, "I know you don't like me interfering with your love life, but I really think you should hold on to him." "Mom, I already told you, Ray and I aren't together," Felicity said patiently. Donna tapped her nose. "Who said I was talking about Ray?"

And before Felicity could reply, her mother waved goodbye and made her way to the terminals, heels clattering. Rolling her eyes, Felicity watched her leave, managing a last smile at Donna as she headed off. She wondered, though, how her mother could possibly know about Oliver – but then, she remembered, this was her mother she was talking about. The journey back home did little to clear her head. Felicity had been thankful for the distraction of her mother all day, but now Oliver's words came back to her. 

“You know how I feel about her.”

The truth was, she didn’t. How could she, when he had said mere weeks before that he couldn’t be with her? Felicity felt emotionally whiplashed, if that were even possible, and that was after everything she had been through in the last couple of days, as well. She wished she knew what to do, what to say. Part of her wanted to confront Oliver about it… but he wasn’t exactly the kind of person to willingly share his feelings. No, she decided, he had made his feelings perfectly clear about their relationship prospects. 

Stupidly, another part of her just wanted him to kiss her again, to set her heart on fire for just a few wonderful seconds of oblivion. Part of her wanted to pretend that there wasn’t another man between them – the masked, hooded hero he was during the night – and just be… together. She found herself stopping at Starling City Cemetery. It was on her route back to her apartment, and though she wasn't exactly sure why, she knew going home now would only prolong the internal monologue currently going on in her brain. And though she could have gone to the foundry, she had a feeling she needed to be alone, away from Oliver. Since they buried her, Felicity hadn't gone to see Sara's grave. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t. In a way, she didn’t want to, not after performing the autopsy on her – the fact that it wasn’t a proper autopsy, only a virtual one, did nothing to assuage the grief and hopelessness she had felt at the time. Now, though, as she knelt in front of the gravestone, she was glad she came – to pay her respects, to distract herself, she wasn’t sure. Regardless, the cold air felt good on her face, and she welcomed the quiet of the cemetery as she pressed her lips together, brushing away the dirt, and spoke quietly. "So I didn't bring flowers. I figured you're not really a flower person, and, well, Laurel seems insistent on no one knowing about you being... gone.” 

It felt weird, talking to a grave, knowing her friend’s corpse was lying beneath her feet. It wasn’t like when she was talking to Barry while he was comatose – at least then she could pretend he was sleeping. Sara wasn’t sleeping. Sara was dead, and being reminded of that sparked hot tears in her eyes. 

“I don’t really know why I'm here, to be honest,” Felicity said after a moment, when the lump in her throat was gone. “I know it’s stupid, because I know you can’t hear me, but I wanted to thank you. I remember how many times you made me do that move with the gun – God, I remember – but I never thought I’d have to use it on my ex-boyfriend, of all people. My not-so-dead ex-boyfriend. Turns out I was right. He’s not dead. And I was right, too, about… him changing. I was okay with him not being the same guy, but I never thought he would…” She chuckled to herself for a moment. “I guess we both have experience in having the loves of our lives kidnapping our mothers. 

“You were always so easy to talk to. I remember telling you about Cooper. I couldn’t tell Oliver, or John, or anyone, but for some reason, I told you. Probably because you didn’t push me. It makes me wonder what you would say now –” 

She stopped, hearing footsteps behind; whipping around, Felicity was relieved to see it was just Laurel. (She’d had enough surprises for one day.) Felicity recognised Sara’s jacket, the small studs on the shoulders gleaming in the dark. 

“Sorry,” Laurel said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” 

Felicity shook her head. “It’s all right.” 

Laurel moved to stand next to Felicity, kneeling at Sara’s grave and touching the stone with her fingers. “You were good friends with her, weren’t you?” she said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Felicity replied. “In fact, if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be alive.” 

To her surprise, Laurel smiled. “She said the same about you. Sara told me, a while back, how you took a bullet for her.” Felicity nodded. 

“William Tockman,” she said in explanation. “Aka the Clock King.” 

“Right,” said Laurel, nodding. “I remember. Speaking of criminals with weird names, nice work with Brother Eye.” 

“Thanks.” Felicity was silent for a few moments, and then, before she could stop herself, she blurted, “I have no idea how I'm supposed to react to my ex-boyfriend being a cyber-terrorist and coming back from the dead and then holding a gun to my head and trying to kill me, but I have to say, I'm not exactly taking it well.” 

“He was your –?” 

Nodding, Felicity explained, “We were together in college, he went to jail and supposedly committed suicide, and then, five years later, he shows up in Starling, kidnaps me and my mom and uses me to steal money for him. That’s the long and short of it, I guess.” 

“I have a little experience with the whole, you know, boyfriend coming back from the dead thing,” Laurel said, still with a small smile on her face. “It gets easier.” 

Felicity had forgotten about that. “I remember talking about it with Sara,” she said. “Over drinks and a lot of punching.” At the look on Laurel’s face, she clarified quickly, “We were training.” 

“I get it,” she said, nodding. “Actually, I’ve been doing a lot of punching myself lately.” 

“You have?” Felicity raised her eyebrows. 

“I miss her,” Laurel said abruptly, and Felicity wondered if she had changed the subject on purpose. 

“I do too,” Felicity replied. “God knows I could do with her advice now.” 

“About Ollie, you mean?” 

Despite the coolness of the night air, Felicity could feel herself flushing. “What do you mean?” 

“I pretty much perfected that expression in the mirror when we were together.” At Felicity’s confused look, Laurel explained, “You know, the one where he says one thing and then says something completely opposite it five minutes later, and you have no idea how to react to it?” 

Felicity smiled. “I forgot you know him better than I do.” 

“He’s one of my oldest friends,” Laurel said, “and some things never change. So what’s wrong?” Felicity must have looked unsure, because Laurel then said, “It’s okay. We can talk about it. Oliver and I have been over for a long time now.” 

“Yeah, I guess if you can get over him cheating on you, then –” Felicity said without thinking, and then she kicked herself. “I'm sorry, I didn’t mean…” 

But Laurel shook her head. “Don’t be. I’ve had years to get over it. And I know he cares for you. A lot. Even before what happened with Slade.” 

“I don’t know,” Felicity said, shaking her head. “He said he can’t be with me and be the Arrow at the same time.” 

Laurel sighed. “Ollie has always had this tendency of thinking he doesn’t deserve to be happy. But then he suddenly says things about his feelings for you, when you least expect it?” Laurel guessed. 

“Yeah.” 

Laurel got up and put her hand on Felicity’s shoulder. “You know what Sara would say? I mean, after her usual disclaimer about not being in the habit of sharing her feelings?” 

“She would tell me to talk to him,” Felicity said, without even thinking. 

“I know how difficult it is to be alongside someone every day, to work with them, having that hanging over you. But the best thing you can do is talk about it.” 

It was with curiosity that Felicity regarded Laurel, whose hand fell back to her side. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” 

“Earlier today, I was so… angry, and instead of talking about it, I practically started a riot.” 

“Sending that ESU squad to Starling National, you mean?” said Felicity, raising her eyebrows. 

Laurel looked at her shoes, and it was clear she was still kicking herself. “My dad… he wasn’t angry, not really, but he said it was obvious I was in ten kinds of pain and I needed to talk about it – if not with him, then with someone. And I did, and it helped.” 

Felicity digested this for a moment. “Can I ask you something?” Laurel murmured in assent. “Why don’t you want Captain Lance to know?” 

Laurel closed her eyes. “I saw what he went through when we lost Sara the first time. He hit the bottle, and he buried himself into his work – to the point that I had to drag him out of bars, and if he was sober, he would be just… obsessed with closing case after case. And at first, I thought it was just because of Sara’s death. But then… then I realised it was more than just that. It was the fact that his job was – and always has been – to catch the bad guy, to put him away, to get justice.” 

“To solve the mystery,” Felicity murmured. 

“Yeah,” said Laurel. “And he could do it, for strangers, for people he didn’t know about or have any reason to care for, for bad people, even, but for his own daughter, he couldn’t. He had no closure, because he didn’t know what happened, and not knowing was what hurt him the most.”

“Because that’s supposed to be his job,” Felicity said. “I get that. And, what, you think the same thing will happen now?” 

It was only now that Laurel’s voice began to waver. “She was shot with arrows. The only archer who could possibly be responsible of this that we know of apparently didn’t do it, which leaves us with nothing. And knowing… knowing my sister’s killer is out there and not behind bars or, God help me, in a box, is difficult enough for me as it is. I don’t want my dad to go through that. Not again.” 

Felicity considered what she said. She didn’t agree with her, but she could understand to a certain degree where Laurel was coming from. 

“So, what? You tell him when you find Sara’s killer?” Felicity asked. 

“If I find them,” Laurel said. 

For once, Felicity thought before she spoke. “I noticed you’re wearing Sara’s jacket,” she said carefully. “Are you… planning on wearing her mask, too? Eventually?” 

Again, Laurel avoided Felicity’s gaze. “I know it’s not exactly a healthy way of grieving, but –” 

“Oh, I don’t know. It kind of puts my grief – me dyeing my hair blonde and going from Goth to librarian – into perspective,” Felicity said lightly. 

Laurel seemed surprised at that, but she didn’t say anything. “Go ahead and tell me I'm better off just being ADA and that I'm just going to get hurt.” 

But Felicity just smiled. “Well, if you insist, I will. It’s not what I think, though.” 

“Really?” 

“I have no right to tell you not to do it because it will be dangerous – not when what I do day in, day out is exactly that. But can I give you some advice?” 

Still taken aback, Laurel nevertheless nodded. 

“First of all, don’t do it to get revenge for Sara. Do it because you want to honour her memory.” 

“And second?” 

Once more, Felicity hesitated. “It doesn’t look it, but Sara’s mask is… heavier than it looks. God knows, her bo-staff definitely is. Just remember that.” 

Laurel adjusted her jacket and straightened. “That’s good advice. Thanks.” 

“Any time.” They started walking down the path to the cemetery’s entrance. 

“By the way,” Laurel said, “on the phone the other day, you asked if we were friends. I… just wanted to let you know that I hope we are. And not just because you cared about Sara.” 

Felicity smiled. “That’s good to know,” she said, and after patting Laurel’s arm and bidding her goodbye, she headed for her car. 

The drive to Verdant left her feeling far less troubled. Before long, she entered through the side entrance in the alley, the bright green sign casting a dull glow on the empty beer bottles and boxes on the ground. 

She entered the foundry, which was empty except for Oliver, who was bent over his trunk, a half-filled duffel bag open on his bed. At her footsteps, he straightened and turned around. 

“Hey,” she said, offering him a smile, and to her relief, he smiled back. 

“Your mom get on her plane okay?” he asked. “Or is she going to stay with you a bit longer?” 

“No, I just dropped her at the airport,” Felicity said. She watched as he reached into his trunk again. “Are you… packing?” 

“I’m moving in with Thea,” Oliver said. “She’s just signed the lease on this loft, and I figured it would be easier to spend time with my sister if I was living with her.” 

“That’s great,” she said sincerely. “Good for you.” 

Oliver looked at her, reached over and moved the duffel bag on the floor. “You want to sit down?” he said. “You look tired.” 

“Yeah, well, my mother is tiring. Once she starts shopping, it’s like she can’t stop.” For a moment, she hesitated, but then she decided his bed looked quite comfy. And he was right – her feet were aching from all the walking. “Where’s Roy?” 

“I told him to go home,” Oliver said, and though he wasn’t looking at her, she could detect his unease. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“You tell me. He hasn’t been himself lately – he could barely keep up when we were training.” 

Felicity watched as he zipped up the bag and looked up at her. “He’s probably got a lot on his mind. You sure it’s not Thea-related?” 

Oliver frowned. “I bumped into them earlier and they seemed to be getting along fine. No, I think it’s something else.” 

“Well, I’ll keep an eye out,” she told him. He still looked worried, so she reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sure he’s fine.” 

He went quiet and his eyes were on where her hand was, resting on his wrist; after a moment, she let go and instead lay back on the bed. “God, I could do with a drink,” she said, and though she had said it to herself, it was clear Oliver had heard. Seconds later, she heard the clink of glasses being set down on the table, and she sat up, aware of the fact that her hair was probably more than a little mussed up. 

“I could use one too,” he murmured. “I hope you like vodka.” 

For the first time since she came into the foundry, Felicity laughed. “You do realise you’re talking to the daughter of a cocktail waitress, right?” 

Oliver smiled. “And a slightly wild college student?” 

“If by ‘wild’, you mean I had piercings, wore black eye-liner and dyed my hair black, then yeah, I guess you could call it that,” Felicity said. 

He let out a low whistle as he opened the bottle. “You’ll probably be glad I don’t have to use an arrow to open the bottle this time.” 

“I remember,” she said, her lips upturning at the memory. “I also remember you having to clean up the mess afterwards. Before you got to sleep in my bed for the first time – I mean, it wasn’t technically my bed, since I bought it for you, although, now I mention it, you’ve slept there too, and – I’m just going to stop talking,” she said. Why did everything she said either sound ridiculously tactless or vaguely dirty? 

But Oliver, as always, pretended she didn’t say anything. In fact, other than his mouth twitching ever so slightly, it was as if she hadn’t said anything mortifyingly embarrassing (though, admittedly, her Freudian slips had been a lot worse in the past). She could hear the clear liquid trickling as Oliver poured a small measure in each of the glasses. When he handed hers over, for the briefest of seconds, their fingers brushed and their eyes met. At the same time as Oliver, she downed the vodka in one go, barely wincing at its harsh taste. “Wow. That’s good.” 

Oliver nodded in agreement, taking her glass from her. It was when he was looking away from her that he began, “Felicity… about earlier, what I said – I'm sorry if –” 

She remembered what Laurel said. But at that moment, she didn’t have it in her for confrontation or emotional exchanges. “It’s fine,” she said quickly, and she immediately changed the subject. “I… stopped by Sara’s grave, just now.” 

To her surprise, Oliver didn’t press the subject, instead pressing his lips together in the way he had done earlier on and closing his eyes for a moment. “I haven’t gone since…” 

“Since we buried her, yeah. I haven’t been able to either. But I figured I should. Especially because she’s the reason I'm still alive.” 

“With Cooper, you mean?” 

“She said there was a strong likelihood one of the Arrow’s enemies would try and use me as leverage, so she went over a few things with me. I just never thought I would have to use it on him, of all people. I have to say, though, my mom is taking it better than I thought she would.” 

“I'm glad you sorted things with her,” Oliver said sincerely. 

“I'm glad I listened to you,” she admitted. “You know, I complain about my mom all the time, and she’s not perfect –” 

“Neither was mine,” he said, “something you probably know better than most.” 

“I'm sure yours never used to guilt trip you about going away to college and leaving her on her own.” 

Oliver laughed. “No, she was busy trying to keep me in college. It didn’t seem to work.” 

“But I realised… the reason she did that was because she missed me. And – that doesn’t make it okay, necessarily, but it made me realise that she was there for me, when I needed her, when all this crap was going on in my life. So,” she said, tilting her head a little to one side and regarding him gratefully, “thank you. For the whole ‘family is precious’ thing. You were right.” 

He nodded, smiling back. “Whatever their faults, they raised us right.” 

“They did,” Felicity agreed, and for a moment, it was like they were back to when Oliver shot open that long-promised bottle of Lafite Rothschild 1982, when Sara was still alive, when they hadn’t had their first date in a restaurant that was literally blown up. 

Pouring two more shots, he handed one over to Felicity. “To Sara,” he said, raising his glass. 

Felicity nodded. “And to family.” There was a clink as their glasses touched each other before each of them downed their drinks. 

“By the way,” he said softly, “just so you know, my first attempt at being a hero didn’t turn out great either. And that’s okay. You wanted to do good, and now you do. You’re a hero now, which is all that matters.” It was clear she still didn’t look convinced, even if she didn’t say anything, so he sat beside her on the bed and put his hand gently on her shoulder. “You are. For the number of times you’ve saved me alone, you are.”

End Notes:

Read the prequel,  Reveries and Sparring (AO3/FFN)

[habibialkaysani]

Promise (Oliver/Felicity; G)

Summary: Two missing scenes from 3x18. Felicity tries to figure out what to say to Ray after he drops the ILY bomb, and Oliver asks her to promise him something.

Ships: Oliver/Felicity, Ray/Felicity, Laurel & Felicity

A/N: So I haven’t been able to get that episode out of my head! Just to be clear, the first part takes place after Ray tells Felicity he loves her and Donna gives her daughter some words of wisdom. The second takes place when Felicity, Roy and John go to the precinct to talk to Oliver.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

Felicity hated hospitals.

It wasn’t for the reasons people normally hate them, either – the smell of antiseptic, the fact that those walls, no matter what colour they were painted, seemed inescapably cold and clinical, or the sound of machines beeping and lives ending. No, what bothered her was all the things she had experienced right there, in Starling General.

She had come here a couple of times to visit Lance when he was recovering from his collapse. (Of course, that was before, when he had been an ally to the Arrow, and not the person calling for his arrest.) The hospital had also been where she’d seen John become a father – it had been where Oliver had kissed her, for the first and last time. Being there only reminded her of the pain of tugging his hands away from where they had framed her face and walking away from him.

And now there was Ray – a man that should have been so good for her, so perfectly matched for her that she could not for the life of her get why his declaration that he loved her had left her so mortified.

Well. Maybe she was lying to herself just a little. Or she was avoiding the truth -  that was, until her mother had spelled it out for her. That would be another memory that would come back to her the next time she was in a hospital: Donna Smoak, telling her she was in love with a man that Donna herself had barely met. That she had to make a choice.

Felicity didn’t know what to do. After imparting that particular nugget of wisdom, Donna had got up, smoothed down her yellow dress and said something about going to the little blondes’ room, and now, Felicity was sitting alone outside the room where Ray was, trying to figure out what the hell was going on in her head.

She had to make a choice. That was what her mother had said. The trouble was, considering one of them was wanted for murder right now, it was highly unlikely that her choice would actually mean anything.

Felicity got to her feet. Before even thinking about what she was doing, she was already at the door to Ray’s room.

“Hey,” she said as she shut the door behind her. She tried smiling, but it was futile. Ray opened his mouth as if to say something, but at that moment (and - secretly, to Felicity’s relief), Felicity’s phone rang from the bedside cabinet. “Sorry,” she said, walking over and reaching for it, “one second.”

It was Laurel. “Felicity, Oliver’s turned himself in,” she said.

“Wh-what?” said Felicity, her hand automatically clapping over her mouth. “What do you mean, he –?”

“He wants to cut a deal with the DA, make sure they can’t touch you guys,” Laurel said, clearly speaking as quickly as she could. “He literally just walked into the precinct and I just talked to him.”

“Oh my God,” she said, closing her eyes. “Okay. I’ll try and talk him out of it.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for several seconds. “I’ll see what I can do, Felicity, but – he seems to have made up his mind.”

“Not this time,” Felicity said firmly. “Talk soon, Laurel.”

“Yeah.”

She hung up and looked up at Ray.

“Oliver?” he guessed.

“He turned himself in,” she said, only now realising how close to tears she was. “Lance basically told the whole city he’s the Arrow, and he’s giving himself up to protect all of us.”

“I saw on the news,” Ray said. He was silent, as if contemplating something.

“You don’t still think he was behind these attacks, do you?” she said slowly.

Ray shook his head vigorously. “God, no. Whoever it was aimed at you. Even if Oliver hadn’t proved his innocence to me before, I know for a fact that he would never hurt his partner.”

Felicity reached out and squeezed his hand. “Good to know.”

“You should go,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she asked, surprised.

“Oliver needs you right now.”

“Will you be okay, though?”

“Felicity,” he said, meeting her eyes properly for the first time since she entered the room, “you’ve already saved my life. Go see if you can save his. His life as a free man, that is.”

She smiled weakly. “Thank you,” she said, and she kissed his cheek. For a moment, Felicity wondered if she should bring up what he said, but there was too much going on right now for her to even think about it.

“You’ve followed me this far. All of you have followed me this far. But I need you to follow me just a little further… until it’s over.”

Felicity could not believe what she was hearing. She found herself taking off her glasses, her nervousness making it difficult for her to fold them up and hold them in her hand.

“Guys, give us a minute, please,” she said quietly. She looked up at John, then at Roy, and finally at Laurel waiting outside. Both men nodded, glancing again at Oliver – the man the team had considered their leader, even in his supposed death – before leaving the room.

“Felicity, I know what you’re thinking,” he said, the moment the door clicked shut.

“Do you?” she said, sitting down shakily. Her knees bumped against Oliver’s under the table and before she even realised what she was doing, she was prying apart Oliver’s hands and fitting one of hers between them. “Oliver, you can’t do this.”

“Is Ray okay?” he asked.

“Ray’s fine,” she said quickly, “and he’s going to make a full recovery. Please don’t change the subject.”

“You should be with him.”

“That is exactly what Ray told me,” Felicity said, “about you. Seems like I have a type.”

“Felicity…” he said softly, and she closed her eyes, wondering why, when he said her name, it sometimes sounded like a prayer. His hands were cold, rough, but she could feel his thumb gently rubbing circles on her palm. “Do you trust me?”

“I remember the last time you asked me that,” she said, her eyes fixed on their hands. “You took me on your motorbike to your mansion.”

“Right before I put you in the crosshairs of one of the most dangerous men I've ever known,” he finished. “Something I promised myself I would never let happen again – but I did. With Hogue, with Brother Eye, Zytle, and now…”

“That is not true,” she said firmly.

“It is. If I hadn’t dragged you into all of this –”

“You didn’t drag me –”

“– you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I let you down, Felicity, so many times, but I'm not going to this time. You’ll get to live your life, be happy –”

“Hey!” she interrupted, and without thinking, her hand was on his cheek. “You have not let me down – not me, not John, not Roy. All you have done is try to save people.”

“I couldn’t save Sara,” he said hopelessly. He looked up, into her eyes. “Or the mayor. Or the other people Maseo’s killed. But I can save you.”

“Oliver, I get it,” Felicity told him, fingers still brushing against stubble. “You’re a hero. You save people. It’s what you do. But for once, just this once, Oliver, please, just… let me – let us – save you.”

He chuckled weakly. “You already have, more than enough times.”

“I trust you,” she said, “of course I do, but there has to be another way.”

His hands were in cuffs, but that didn’t stop him reaching up and gently removing hers from his face. She could feel the cold metal scrape against her skin as he shook his head. “There isn’t. I need you to promise me…”

Just then, however, Captain Lance came in. “Time’s up, Miss Smoak,” he said curtly.

Felicity ignored him. “Promise me what?”

“That you won’t try busting me out. That you’ll stand down.”

“I said time’s up,” Lance said again, louder this time.

She shook her head. “I can’t promise you that.”

“Felicity,” he pleaded. “Promise me.”

Just as Lance looked like he was going to kick her out himself, Felicity got to her feet. She crossed her fingers behind her back as she nodded, saying, “I promise.”

[habibialkaysani]

Speak From the Heart (Oliver/Felicity; G)

Summary: Set during 3x17. In which Oliver delivers his best man speech, Team Arrow take photos and the Queen siblings have a good chat about their respective love lives.

Ships: Oliver/Felicity, Diggle/Lyla, Thea/Roy, Diggle & Oliver, Oliver & Thea, Ray/Felicity, Oliver & Lyla

A/N: So while I loved Suicidal Tendencies as an episode, I have to say I was disappointed that the Dyla wedding made up only four minutes of the episode. I was expecting at least a best man speech and maybe an Olicity dance. I couldn't figure out a way to work in the latter, just because of the way the episode panned out, but I did manage to put in a speech. 

Read at AO3

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"All right. John Diggle, Lyla Michaels, I now pronounce you husband and wife." Oliver joined the guests in applause, still unable to take his eyes off Felicity, whose widening smile at the kissing couple only made him smile more. He watched, trying to hide his wistfulness as Lyla took Sara from their nanny and Diggle embraced them both. The photographer snapped photos of the three of them, and Palmer stepped out of the shot, moving towards drinks table. Oliver made to get out of the way, too, when Diggle caught his eye. Patting his new wife on the shoulder, he stepped towards Oliver and said quietly, "How about a Team Arrow photo? I want at least one with my best man in it that isn't Photoshopped." "John..." Oliver began to say, wanting to object (Diggle knew he didn't do photos), but then, seeing the look on his friend's face, he changed his mind and said mock-sternly, "You know we don't call it that." Diggle grinned, putting his hands together. "Great." Oliver peered over Diggle's shoulder, looking for Felicity, and when he found her (laughing at something the officiant said), he waved her over. She joined them moments later. "Mazel tov, John," she said, giving him a hug and bestowing a smile upon Oliver.

“Thank you.”

"John wants a photo," said Oliver. "Of the three of us."

Felicity looked at him, her eyebrows arched in surprise. "This is a first," she said. "It’s just the one," Oliver said. "Two, actually," John corrected. "The original team – us three – and our... additions." Felicity just laughed. "Sounds good." Diggle gestured to the photographer, who was busy snapping photos of Lyla and Sara. At that moment, though, Felicity turned to Oliver, tiptoed and started to fix his bow tie. "It's gone a bit wonky," she said in explanation. She didn’t seem to notice his sharp intake of breath at their sudden close proximity, and Oliver was so occupied in trying to decide where to look (anywhere but at her) that neither of them registered the photographer taking a picture until they heard the click of the camera.  “Is it too late to change my mind?” Oliver said as Felicity stepped away.

"No takebacks, man," Diggle said, smiling. Felicity put her hand on Diggle's shoulder, and Oliver smiled for the camera as the photographer snapped the picture. "Now one of everyone," Diggle said, waving over Lyla, still carrying Sara, and Laurel, Roy and Thea. "Time for a group photo," he said once everyone had assembled and offered their congratulations and Diggle had thanked them. Roy looked like he was going to object, but Oliver caught his eye and shook his head. The group shuffled, all trying to arrange themselves, and Oliver found himself squashed between Felicity and Laurel.

To his surprise, after a moment, he then felt a small hand on his waist. Looking down, he realised it was Felicity's, and she looked up at him and smiled just as the photographer started snapping. He smiled back, managed to extricate his arm and tentatively put it around her shoulders. For a few glorious seconds, the room was empty except for Oliver and Felicity, but then the spell ended and the group dispersed. It was then, also, that Oliver caught sight of Ray, who was watching, waiting for Felicity with two glasses of champagne.

Trying to push this from his mind as Felicity made her way to Ray, Oliver took a deep breath – now was as good a time as any. He signalled to stop the music and went to the drinks table, where he grabbed a glass and a spoon. After taking a draught of champagne for good measure, he clinked the spoon against the glass. "Excuse me, may I have your attention, please?" 

Oliver's eyes found Diggle, whose expression was one of pleasant surprise. He hadn’t mentioned anything about a speech to Diggle – in fact, he hadn’t told anyone. "Um… I just want to say a few words about my good friends, John and Lyla." All eyes were on him now, and it made him nervous (which, when putting into perspective how he spent most of his nights, was more than a little laughable). Nevertheless, he pressed on. "Years ago, John told me something about... love. He said he didn't think love was about changing or saving a person. He thought it was about finding the person who was already the right fit." Oliver paused, and he could not help but look at Felicity. "Looks like he took his own advice." A couple of the guests tittered.  "You see, John doesn't make Lyla a better person, or vice versa. They’re already great people. She brings out the best in him, just like he brings out the best in her… they harness each other’s best qualities. John and Lyla are loyal, kind and – best of all – they make each other happy.

“As most of you know, they met while serving in Afghanistan - in other words, during a time and in a place full of war and adversity. To me, there is nothing better than finding love and joy in someone in spite of that. And though it takes great courage to be a soldier, to be willing to risk your life for the good of your country, I think marriage is an act of an entirely different kind of bravery, because to love is to have the willingness to live."

He looked again at Felicity. Her head was tilted a little to one side, watching him, a smile on her lips.

“But John and Lyla took that leap of faith, and last year, they brought a beautiful child in the world. I see every day how much she means to you both and how happy she makes you. I want you to know that there is nothing more important than knowing that the people closest to me – all the people closest to me – are happy. And, of course, I welcome the fact that I can now refer to Lyla as your wife, John, without being corrected.” This last quip was greeted with laughter. Oliver lifted his glass, regarding Diggle and his wife. “So I would like you all to raise your glasses to John and Lyla!” 

The guests drank to the couple’s health and applauded, and they began to mill around the dance floor as the music started up again. Oliver looked around, trying to find Felicity, but she had disappeared into the crowd. He could just make out Diggle and Lyla, who were surrounded by a group of well-wishers, so he instead went to the drinks table. 

He was joined soon by Thea. “Nice speech,” she said, giving him a hug. 

“Thanks, Speedy,” he murmured. He let go of his sister just in time to see Ray leading Felicity onto the dance floor by the hand. “How are you doing, anyway?” he asked, trying his utmost to push his feelings to one side.

“Getting there,” she said, and Oliver was relieved to see there was a genuine smile on her face. 

“I meant what I said, you know,” Oliver told her. “About wanting the people closest to me to be happy. That includes you.” He looked pointedly at Roy and then back at her. 

“How did you know?” she asked, her brow furrowed. 

Oliver smiled. “I’ve spent a lot of time with Roy over the last few months. I’ve gotten pretty good at being able to read his body language. And he’s not exactly subtle. He also mentioned it to me yesterday,” he added, “while we were training.” 

“What did you say to him?” 

“That there is no one better for you than someone I trust and care about as much as Roy,” he replied. “That if I was happy with you being with anyone, it would be him.” 

Thea reached over and squeezed his hand. “Not that we needed your blessing, but that’s good to know. Thanks, Ollie.” She followed his line of vision, peering at the dance floor. “What about you?” she asked. 

“What about me what?” he said absently. 

“Felicity,” she said simply. “You were making heart eyes at her during the whole ceremony.” 

“I was not,” Oliver said defensively. 

But Thea ignored him. “And I’ve seen the way you look at her – the way she looks at you. You’re not exactly subtle either, Ollie.” She looked up at him. “You love her.” 

It was not a question. Oliver closed his eyes. “I do,” he said softly. 

“Then why aren’t you with her? And don’t say it’s complicated.”

That was, in fact, what he was about to say. “She’s with someone else,” he said instead. 

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” Thea said, and Oliver chuckled. 

“This is different. The life that I lead… it doesn’t leave room for an actual life. And I think… I know… that I won’t be good for her.” 

“Now I know you're talking crap.” Her hands were on her hips in a fashion so similar to their mother’s that Oliver couldn’t help but smile – both because of the memory she evoked and because it seemed his sister was returning to her usual self. “No, really, Ollie, I get that your love life hasn’t exactly been the best lately - or ever - but it’s not because you’re not good enough.” 

Oliver looked away from her and back to the dance floor. The women were milling around Lyla, who looked like she was about to throw her bouquet. Thea noticed too, and she put down her drink. 

“This conversation is not over,” she told him, and she hurried onto the dance floor. Seconds later, Lyla threw her bouquet in the air. 

It landed in Felicity’s hands. She seemed surprised when she caught it, but after a moment, she held it up in the air in triumph. The photographer started snapping madly, and Oliver made her way over to her. 

By the time he had navigated his way through the throng of guests, however, he realised she had just been joined by Ray. 

“Great speech,” he said to Oliver. 

“Thank you,” he replied. 

“Yeah, Oliver, I didn’t know you were going to do one,” Felicity said. “But it was good. Sincere.” 

“You told me once to speak from the heart,” he said, smiling. “That’s what I did. Or, at least, I tried to do.” 

“Glad to see you took my advice,” she replied, smiling back. 

“Sorry,” said Oliver after a moment, suddenly noting Ray’s raised eyebrows. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting you guys or anything.” 

Ray’s expression returned back to normal and he shook his head. “Not at all. In fact,” he said, placing his hand on Felicity’s shoulder, “I was just leaving.” 

“Everything okay?” she asked. 

He nodded, but before he could explain further, they were joined by Diggle and Lyla, who was holding baby Sara. Ray turned to them and said, “I'm sorry, I hate to do this, but I have some business I have to attend to.” 

“No problem,” said Diggle. He held out his hand to Ray. “Thank you, Ray.” 

“Yes, thank you, Ray, for saving the day,” Lyla added. 

“It was my pleasure,” he said with a smile. “Congratulations.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” Felicity said. Still holding the bouquet and her other hand on the small of Ray’s back, she left the hall with him. 

Oliver watched them go before turning to Diggle and Lyla. “Thank you, Oliver,” said Lyla. “For what you said.” 

He smiled. “I figured it was the least I could do after missing the photos.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, and she turned towards the nanny. 

“You should consider taking a leaf out of your own book,” Diggle said. 

“She’s with someone else,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “As she should be. Which reminds me – what the hell did you say when you shook his hand that made him look so nervous?” 

Diggle just grinned. As Lyla handed Sara over to the nanny, Oliver said, “Let me guess – some variation of ‘you’ll hurt her and I’ll snap your neck’?” 

“Better it comes from me than you,” said Diggle. Lyla just looked at the two of them in exasperation and shook her head. Then taking her husband’s hand, she led him onto the dance floor just as a slow song came on. Oliver watched, a smile still on his face. Not for the first time, he wondered about what could have been.

[habibialkaysani]

Healing (Oliver/Felicity; T)

Summary: Post-3x16. Felicity is about to go on a date with Ray, but first, she has to see Oliver. They may have patched things up, but are they really okay? Featuring shirtless!Oliver and babbling!Felicity (two things the show needs lots more of).

Ships: Oliver/Felicity, Diggle & Felicity, Diggle & Oliver, Ray/Felicity

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

Verdant was less crowded than usual when Felicity entered. Oliver had only just had the Argus security measures removed, and it was strange seeing the nightclub bathed in its usual green glow and not looking like something out of Mission Impossible. Still, Felicity welcomed the throb of music and the sight of people dancing – it was certainly preferable to the red criss-crossing beams of light she was used to seeing over the last week.

She squeezed through the throng of clubgoers crowding around the bar and made her way to the foundry. Her hair was in loose curls around her shoulders. Her dress was a cool, dark blue, high-necked at the front and low-cut in the back, with a small split on either side halfway down her thigh. Aware her attire was attracting a few stares and even a drunken catcall, Felicity nevertheless just rolled her eyes, smoothed down the skirt of her dress and continued walking until she reached the door to the foundry.

Immediately, she was greeted with the clang of the bar on the salmon ladder's rungs, and the  familiar sound (that Felicity had not heard in a while) made her smile for some reason. When she shut the door behind her and the din of the music quietened, the noise grew louder – clang, clang, clang – and she could barely hear her heels as she descended the stairs to the foundry, where Oliver was indeed doing the salmon ladder.

"Hey," Oliver called, and even from where Felicity stood, she could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

"Been a while since I've seen you shirtless," Felicity said, but the moment she did, she realised what she said and she could feel her cheeks redden beneath her blusher. Oliver just laughed, and with a sweaty grunt, he went up another rung. She smiled back. She hadn't realised until now how much she had missed that – Oliver's smile had been a rare sight since he had left to fight Ra's the first time. "I meant... uh, it's been a while since you've been on that thing. Are you sure you can do that, you know, what with you –"

"– being stabbed by the least handsome demon's head ever?" Oliver said, panting a little as he did a chin-up on the bar. Felicity laughed, and a moment later, Oliver jumped down. "Don't worry about me. I feel fine," he said, and now he was on the same level as her, she could see the sweat on his face and the way it trickled down his chest.

However, she could also see where Ra's al Ghul had stabbed him. The wound had nearly healed, and from a distance, the break in his skin would have been camouflaged by the assortment of scars that covered his torso. Up close, though, she could make out the blackness of where his blood had clotted. Wincing, she reached out as if to touch it, but then she thought better of it, and her hand dropped to her side. Oliver seemed to have noticed, because he took a step back and reached for the towel on the table which he put around his neck.

"That looks nasty," she murmured.

"It's fine," Oliver said. As he took off his gloves, he looked at her more closely. "You look beautiful. Going somewhere?"

Caught a little off-guard, Felicity was silent for a moment before she said, "Uh, thanks. And yes. I'm going to dinner."

She purposely didn't say "with Ray", but she may as well have. The cold air in the foundry thickened, just like it had done earlier when Ray had called her.

"Right," Oliver said, nodding. There was silence after he said that, a silence that stretched on for what felt like forever.

"You know, Ray has a salmon ladder," she said in attempt to break it.

Oliver raised his eyebrows. "He does?"

"Yeah. You know, you two probably have more in common than you think," she said. "Although, if it's any consolation, having seen them both multiple times, I can tell you that yours is definitely bigger."

Neither of them spoke for a second as she realised what she'd just said.

"...and of course I'm referring to your salmon ladder, and not, you know, something else," she added hastily, and she could tell Oliver was biting back a laugh. "Sorry, I really need to think of better ways to say things. Or, at least, I need to actually think before I say things."

Thankfully, though, her Freudian slip at least dispelled the tension that had been threatening just moments before.

“Your take-home must be pretty good if you can afford that dress,” he said.

Felicity laughed. "My salary is more than what I earned when I was executive assistant, if that’s what you mean. I have to say, my mom would be proud that for once I'm actually dressed for the nightclub I call home." She turned a little so she could adjust the dress's hem.

"Oh, I don't know," he said lightly. "Most people don't wear $400 dresses here."

"What?"

"Well, from what Thea tells me, most of the clientele is from the Glades, so –"

Felicity shook her head. "No, I mean, how do you know how much it cost?"

"It seems you forgot to take the price tag off," he told her. “Unless you wanted everyone to know you’re wearing –” he tilted his head a little to one side, reading the label “– Bic-big-maxaz-ria?”

“BCBG Max Azria,” she corrected, laughing. “Sometimes, I wonder if you really used to be a billionaire.”

Oliver smiled back. “Well, Lian Yu isn’t exactly known for its Jimmy Choos.” Felicity rolled her eyes and made to head over to the first aid cabinet for some scissors, but Oliver was quicker.

"I got it," he said, and he moved to stand behind her. Felicity's hand went automatically to her hair, which she pushed out of the way and over her shoulder. She felt his fingers ever so lightly brush against the bare skin of her back as he held the tag in his hand. Then she heard a snip and could feel his knuckles through the fabric of the dress as he removed the tag.

"Thanks," she said as she turned around to face him. She found herself closer to Oliver than she'd anticipated, but neither of them took a step back. Once again, her eyes were drawn to the scar on his midriff. But his voice cut across her thoughts and she was grateful, in a way, for the distraction from the heat starting to rise inside her.

"Anyway, if you're going to dinner, what are you doing here?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, you know, I wanted to make sure you weren't dead," she said. “You did kind of say no to probably the most dangerous man in the world.”

Oliver shook his head. "I knew they weren't going to kill me."

"Well, if this were any other offer, I would be inclined to agree with you – if I was killed every time I turned down a job offer, I'd be dead several times over by now – but this is the League of Assassins. It's not exactly like them to take no for an answer. Especially when it's coming from Ra's himself."

"He wasn't in Starling. I met Maseo and told him I wasn't accepting."

The name sounded familiar. "Maseo... the guy who patched you up?"

Oliver’s hand went, almost unconsciously, to the scar on his torso. "His wife did, mostly. But yes."

"I never did ask – why did he help you?" Felicity said. “Surely he was risking his life by saving yours after Ra’s thought he’d killed you.”

For the first time, he looked away from her and took a step back. "That is a very long story," Oliver said, sighing. "Bottom line, he thinks he owes me, and whatever he’s done while he’s been in the League, repaying debts is something Maseo will always honour. Anyway, I don't want to keep you. I'm sure you don't want my habit of being fashionably late to rub off on you too much."

"Actually, I think you'll find it already has," Felicity admitted. "I'm never on time for anything nowadays. I once missed a video call with the prime minister of Japan for that very reason. But I can kind of get away with it, being VP and all."

"I was CEO and Isabel never let me get away with it," Oliver said, and his tone was mock-defensive.

"Yeah, but that's because she turned out to be a super villain," Felicity reasoned, and she was glad they seemed to be getting back to their usual teasing ways.

They both looked up as the foundry door opened. John came down the stairs, and he furrowed his brow a little.

"Sorry... am I interrupting?" he asked.

Both Oliver and Felicity said "Of course not" at the same time. The three of them smiled for a moment.

"Just wanted to check in with you before I went home," John said to Oliver. "Make sure the League didn't take your rejection of them too personally."

"Oh, they did," Oliver replied. "But they wouldn't kill me. Or, at least, Maseo wouldn't."

"So you say," said Felicity.

“He said they’ll be consequences,” Oliver added, “but I don’t know what that means just yet. We just have to keep our eyes open, I guess.”

“Sounds ominous,” John said grimly. He looked at Felicity. “Nice dress. Where are you going?”

“Dinner, with Ray,” she replied.

“I see,” he said, and if Felicity didn’t know any better, she would have said John looked disapproving for a second. But then he brightened and held up two identical envelopes. “Well, before you go, I wanted to give you your invitations – I just went to the printers to pick them up.”

Felicity smiled and took it from him. “Thanks.”

John passed the other invite to Oliver, who accepted it with a smile too. “Sounds great.”

“The wedding’s next week Thursday. I thought you guys should get yours first.”

“I can’t wait,” Felicity enthused. “It’s been ages since I went to a wedding.”

“Me too,” Oliver said warmly. “Should be fun. Especially now you know your best man isn’t going to be the next Ra’s al Ghul.”

John laughed. “Glad you came to your senses, man.”

“Oh, so you did ask him!” said Felicity. “You never said.”

“I'm honoured that he did,” Oliver said sincerely. He turned to Felicity. “And I have you to thank for, you know, helping me come back to my senses.”

“I should add hero-whisperer to my job title,” Felicity said, only half joking. After all, it did seem like she was doing that a lot of the time. She picked up her purse. “Anyway, I should really get going.”

Oliver and John both nodded, and John patted her shoulder as she went up the stairs.

“Have fun,” Oliver called. Once she reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to the club, she turned back, met his eyes and smiled, glad to have at last gotten through to him.

Read the prequel, Regret (AO3/FFN)