Title: First Date
Rating: K+
Summary: Felicity and Oliver have a much needed discussion on their first date. Olicity. Terrible summary so yeah, sorry.
A/N: Okay well this did not turn out the way that I was expecting it to. I had this whole funny first date / Felicity has a minor allergy attack sort of story in my head but this turned totally angsty on my… geez. LOL my apologies but I hope you like it anyway!
First Date
She was studying her reflection in the mirror, applying a quick swipe of lipstick, when he knocked of her door. Felicity smoothed her skirt down with shaking hands and flipped off the light in the bathroom. It only took a moment to cross the length of her small apartment and when she pulled open the door for him, his eyes travelled the length of her body. It was a quick glance but she caught it.
"Hi," she greeted softly, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.
Oliver smiled, leaning in to brush his lips against her cheek, "You look beautiful."
Her breath caught in her throat at how easily he'd done it. It wasn't as if Oliver was the most affection person in the world. There had always been subtle touches and lingering glances between them but he had never kissed her before. The hand that he'd had resting on her shoulder slid down the length of her arm to grasp her fingers.
"Are you ready?"
She nodded, not trusting her voice, and locked her apartment door behind them.
She wasn't exactly sure where this version of Oliver Queen had come from. For close to five years they'd been friends, partners even, but never anything more. And that had been because of Oliver, not her. He had always been the one to keep his distance, to create a barrier between them that stopped them from moving forward. She'd been ready for something to happen for years and she knew that he knew. He dropped hints every now and then. He'd say something, something along the lines of Because of the life that I lead… blah, blah, blah. She knew what his excuse was. The problem was, that excuse couldn't possibly apply to her because she was a part of the life that he led. She was with him more than anyone else in his life. Well, except Digg, but she didn't count him. She knew all about his life, both of his lives, so why he thought that not being in a relationship was somehow protecting her, she had no idea.
She shook her head to clear her errant thoughts and came to a halt on the sidewalk outside of her building. Oliver held out his motorcycle helmet to her and her eyes flew to his.
"You brought your bike?" she squeaked, a different kind of apprehension rattling her composure.
"I figured it was the only way to keep Digg from trying to chaperone," he shrugged.
Nervous laughter bubbled out of her as she shifted her gaze from the bike to the helmet in her hands. She made no move to put it on her head.
"Felicity?"
She glanced up to find him watching her. The smile that had been on his face since the moment she'd opened the door to him had faded and something in her stomach turned over. He was falling into the guilt territory again and she had to stop it. She didn't want to upset him.
"I've never been on a motorcycle before," she blurted out, "I – I mean, they're dangerous and I don't know anyone who owns one, besides you of course. But you've never offered to give me a ride and that's okay because I honestly have this thing against any type of vehicle that doesn't have four wheels and –"
"Felicity."
She clamped her mouth shut and rolled her eyes at herself. She hadn't intended to ramble but she had at least made him smile again.
"Just promise that you won't let me fall off, okay?" she asked.
Oliver took a step closer to her, plucking the helmet from her hands, and worked it down over her hair. She was grateful that she had at least thought to straighten it rather than leave it curly. It would be more manageable later.
"I won't let you fall off," he assured her.
She swallowed hard but nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. She stood on the sidewalk as he straddled the bike. She tried not to stare at him then but it was pointless. The jeans he wore fit him perfectly, leaving nothing to her imagination as they were pulled taut by his position on the bike. When he held his hand out to her, she moved forward hesitantly, well aware of her three inch heels and too-short skirt. She used his hand for support as she gingerly threw her leg over the back of the bike behind him. It took her a moment to adjust, to settle into the seat at his back. Not completely comfortable, she set her hands on his shoulders and waited for him to start the bike.
Oliver laughed, pulling her arms around his middle until her hands were clasped over his abdomen.
"Hold onto me tight, Felicity."
His voice was clearly teasing as he repeated the words he'd said to her so long ago. She felt her face flush but she was able to relax into him then. She tightened her arms around his ribcage.
"Definitely more how I imagined it."
He laughed again, one of his hands coming to rest over both of hers for a moment, "Me, too."
And then the bike rumbled to life beneath her and every coherent thought that she had flew out of her mind. She flattened her front to Oliver's back, not for a minute worrying about the fact that her bare thighs were straddling his jean-clad hips or the fact that his brown leather jacket was twisted fiercely in her hands.
He eased them into traffic and her eyes slammed shut. Cool evening air whipped across her face and a tiny part of her wished that she was brave enough to look around and take in the scenery that was literally flying by them but her roiling stomach stopped her. She would have to remember to add riding a motorcycle to the list of things that made her want to hack.
When the bike finally came to a halt, Felicity let out a relieved groan. She didn't, however, release her hold on the man in front of her.
"Felicity?"
"Hmm?"
"You might need to let go if we plan on actually having dinner tonight," he told her.
The gravelly quality to his voice sent a shiver down her spine. It seemed that their nearness hadn't only affected her, but Oliver as well. Slowly, she relaxed her hold on him and using his shoulders as support, she managed to dismount the bike somewhat gracefully. She removed the helmet, handing it back to him, and took a moment to adjust her skirt and fix her hair. Oliver joined her on the sidewalk a moment later.
"Ready?" he asked again, his hand settling on the small of her back.
She nodded and cast a look around. The moment she realized where they were, she froze.
"Big Belly Burger?" she questioned, surprised and – even though she wouldn't admit it – disappointed.
"Is that okay? We can always go somewhere else."
It took her a second to regain her composure and when she did, she simply shook her head and continued walking.
When he'd asked her to dinner the previous evening at the office, he had taken her by surprise. They shared meals together all of the time, that wasn't anything new, but it had been the way that he'd stumbled over the words and the color that had risen to his cheeks as he'd asked her the question that had startled her. She had never seen Oliver so flustered. Five years. Five years they had been friends and she'd never once seen him that way. And even though she hadn't actually clarified what he was really asking, she had been certain that this was not just another meal. This was a date. So the fact that he'd brought her to their usual spot when she had been expecting a meal she wouldn't have been able to afford on her own and an expensive bottle of wine was pulling her mood down to a level she wasn't comfortable with. She had gotten her hopes up. She had let herself be convinced that something was happening between them, that after all of this time Oliver had decided that he was tired of pretending that the tension between them wasn't obvious.
The reality, it seemed, was that this meal would be just like all of the others that they had shared. There would be no fancy French cuisine at a restaurant that required a reservation or a menu in a language that she didn't understand. She didn't get to share those types of meals with him. Those meals were reserved for woman like Laurel and Helena and McKenna or any of the other girls that had come and gone over the years.
They'd just stepped inside the restaurant when she paused again. That was why he'd brought her here. She wasn't like those women. She wasn't one of billionaire playboy Oliver Queen's girlfriends. She was his friend, his partner. She knew him and he knew that he didn't have to pretend to be that person when he was with her. He could be whoever he wanted to be because she knew all of him.
"Hey, are you okay?" he whispered, his lips close to her ear as he leaned into her shoulder, "We really can go somewhere else if you want. Anywhere is fine. I just figured –"
She tipped her head back to smile up at him. She didn't have to fake this smile. She understood now.
"Here is fine, Oliver. It's great actually," she assured him.
The hand that he had positioned on her lower back was suddenly grasping hers, their fingers entwined tightly. He squeezed and she squeezed back, following as he led her to their usual booth. Warmth bloomed in her chest at the feel of his palm against hers.
She slid onto the bench that put her back to the door. She knew that he needed to be able to see the exit. It was one of the many things that she had learned about him. She had also learned that while he really was particular about what he put in his body, he couldn't say no to salt and vinegar French fries or chocolate covered pretzels. She knew that he worked out harder when he'd had a bad day as a way to punish himself for what he perceived as failure. She knew that, on those day, on the days when things were really bad, he would show up at her door in the middle of the night and fall asleep on her couch. He was never there in the morning and they never discussed it but she knew that being with her made him feel as if he could let his guard down if only for a few hours.
"You're being really quiet," he observed, "What's wrong, Felicity?"
She glanced down at her hands where they rested on the table in front of her and began turning the ring on her thumb absently.
"Nothing's wrong, I just – what are we doing, Oliver?"
She forced her eyes to lift to meet his. If they were finally going to have this conversation, she wouldn't be a coward. She could look in his eyes while they spoke.
Oliver, to her surprise, held her gaze.
"We're having dinner."
She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair nervously.
"You know that that isn't what I meant. I'm just… I'm confused. You asked me to dinner and I was pretty sure that it was a date but I don't get it. What's changed? You've spent the last five years keeping me at arms' length and then out of the blue we're going on a date? And please don't think that I don't want to be here because clearly that isn't the case. Honestly I think I've been dreaming about this moment since the day I met you. But I just don't want to get my hopes up and think that there's something more to this than there really is."
She bit her bottom lip to stem the flow of words that wanted to continue slipping past her lips. To her relief, Oliver wore the same amused expression that he always wore when she rambled around him. He was quiet though and her stomach flip-flopped as she waited for him to respond.
"I don't know that anything has actually changed. I've been stuck with this thought in my head for months. This knowledge that I couldn't make it through a day without you. I don't like having to rely on other people, you know that, but I do rely on you, Felicity. I need you in my life, in both of my lives, and I know that I haven't exactly made this easy for you. I know that I don't deserve you but –"
She reached across the table for his hand.
"Don't do that. Don't make these assumptions about what you do and don't deserve. You see the worst in yourself, Oliver. You see this man that you think isn't worthy of love or happiness and when I hear you say things like that, when I hear you talk about yourself as if you're a – a monster, it breaks my heart."
He grasped her hand tightly, his eyes downcast. He stared at the place on the table where their fingers were joined again.
"You know more about my life than anyone, both past and present. You know me better than my mother or my sister or even Diggle and I sometimes have to find ways to remind myself that you're really still here. I never expected you to stay, Felicity. I thought that, some day, you would realize that I'm not the man that you think I am, that I'm not the man that you want me to be, and that you would go. So when I see you sitting at your desk, you fingernails some neon color that most woman would never bother with, your hair tied back and your glasses sliding down your nose, I think that I must be the luckiest man in the world because I don't think that there's anyone else out there who would've stayed at my side. No one else has. Even Digg has made a life with Lyla and moved on. Sure he's still around, he still helps us when we need him, but he has someone to go home to every night."
"I don't have that," she admitted sadly, unable to hide the longing in her voice, "It's just me."
Oliver shook his head, "But it's not. You aren't alone. And I'm sorry that it took me so long to realize that I've let you feel that way. I don't want you to be alone, Felicity. I don't – I don't want to be alone."
When he lifted his head and she saw the sincerity in his eyes, tears burned in hers. She had to blink them away before she tried to speak.
Luckily they were interrupted by the arrival of their food and Felicity couldn't remember ever placing her order. Not that it mattered. They ate at Big Belly so often that the entire staff knew them and their orders by heart. As the plates where set in front of them, Oliver's grip on her hand never loosened. When their waitress stepped away, she spoke again.
"You've never been alone, Oliver. I've been here – right here – for five years."
"I know."
Silence fell over them and she watched as he picked at his fries with his free hand.
"What does this mean, exactly? For us, I mean," she asked eventually.
He shrugged, "I don't know. What do you want it to mean?"
The words bubbled up inside of her but she wouldn't let them come out. She wanted it to mean that he loved her and that he was done avoiding what had been happening between them. She wanted it to mean that she wouldn't have to spend her nights wondering if he'd come back to her alive and worrying that she would never have the chance to tell him how she felt. She wanted it to mean that he was more than just her boss/friend/partner. She wanted it to mean that being with him everyday didn't leave her broken hearted. She wanted it to mean that he was hers and that he wasn't going anywhere.
"I want us to be together," she confessed, "I've wanted that for a long time, Oliver, and I hope that what you're trying to tell me is that that's what you want, too. I've stood by for too long and I've waited for too long but I couldn't give up. I couldn't let you go. How do you really let go of someone that you love? Even if I was torturing myself by staying. Even if Digg tried to convince me more than once that I should move on. I couldn't leave you because I need you. Because I love you."
He didn't blanch like she expected him to. Instead he lifted their joined hands and brushed his lips across her knuckles.
"I should never have asked you to be a part of this life, Felicity, but now I … I can't imagine what I would do without you. I've been a coward. I've been afraid of what letting you in would mean and what it would do to me if you ever chose to leave. I was so convinced that I could never be the type of man that you deserved. You have this… light about you and I worry every day that the darkness that surrounds me is somehow going to snuff that light out and if that ever happened I think that it would kill me. I want to be the person that you need me to be but I don't –"
She dug her nails into the back of his hand when she tightened her grip.
"Stop. Stop thinking that you aren't exactly who I want you to be. Did you hear what I just said to you? I love you, Oliver. You. Not some distorted version of you. This one, the one sitting right here with me. Scars and tattoos and darkness, none of that matters. What matters to me is that you are strong and brave and kind and … and when I look at you, all I see is the future. Our future. I don't need you to be anyone else. I just need you to be you," she told him vehemently, "So please stop with the self-doubt already and just get it through that thick skull of yours that I am not trying to change you. I don't want you to change."
When he looked at her then, his eyes full of an emotion she had never seen in them before, she knew that she was finally going to get her happy ending. That they were finally going to get their happy ending.
"I love you, too."
She blinked. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting him to say but it hadn't been those four words. He had never been vocal about his emotions. He had never been vocal about much really. So hearing the honesty and conviction in those words made that warmth in her chest erupt and spread through the rest of her body.
"Did Digg really try to convince you to leave?" he asked suddenly, the question taking her off guard.
She couldn't help but laugh.
"More than once. And not because he didn't want me to stay, Oliver, but because he saw how much I was hurting. He – he knew how I felt about you. I guess I should say that he knows how I feel because obviously I still feel that way."
He shook his head, "I'm sorry that I –"
"No. No. I said stop with the self-doubt and whatnot. Okay, so I'm technically adding the 'and whatnot' but stop. I don't need you to apologize. None of it matters anymore. What matters is that we're here and we're going to find a way to make this work," she told him, "Right?"
"Right. Because you love me."
"And you love me."
When he grinned at her Felicity couldn't help but grin in return. For the first time since he'd picked her up at her apartment she felt like herself. The weight of their conversation was gone having been replaced by the reality that they had been avoiding for too long. They were where they were supposed to be. They were together. The happiness that they had both been striving for was finally right in front of them. It was finally theirs to take.
Oliver leaned across the table and she did the same, meeting him halfway.
With their lips just a hairsbreadth apart he whispered, "I'm so damn happy that you stayed."
And then he kissed her and she had no doubt that he had been worth the wait.