A/N: Hello! Very excited to be back with a new multi-chapter fic. This is a sequel to my last multi-chapter fic, Trouble in Paradise. It's strongly recommended that you read that first. That story, and this, are canon compliant up to the end up season 2. However, it's likely I'll weave in some details or characters from season 3, so if you're not up to at least 3x20, keep an eye out for any warnings on future chapters.
So, to clarify, Sara is still alive. Laurel is not the Black Canary, Ray Palmer hasn't taken over QC, the League hasn't been after Oliver and we haven't all endured six months of angst.
Lastly, I'm not really one for a disciplined update schedule. Sometimes you might wait a couple of weeks, sometimes you might get two chapters in a week. If you like what you read, please consider adding the story to your follows. Now enjoy!
Trouble in Vegas
Chapter 1
"Oliver, I swear to everything holy that I'll kill you if you don't call me back in the next two minutes." Felicity hisses viciously into her phone. "I am in way over my head here and I need you to come and rescue me. Seriously."
She ends the call with a jab at her phone screen more violent than necessary and looks around at the chaos surrounding her, taking a series of deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. As she's assessing her next move, her phone buzzes in her hand, Oliver's photo flashing up on the screen.
"Felicity-"
"I've been trying to reach you for hours! Where are you? Can you come here? I am seriously not coping here, Oliver." She's well aware that her voice is approaching a pitch that dogs will start to howl at, but she doesn't care.
"Felicity, open the front door." His words are tinged with amusement before he ends the call, which annoys Felicity even more as she hurries across the room to the entrance way. She tucks the phone between her ear and shoulder as she unfastens each lock on the door, finally pulling the heavy door back to reveal Oliver standing on the threshold, one hand tucking his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans.
"Thank God!" she gasps, ending the call on her phone and then reaching forward to grab handfuls of his wool sweater and drag him into the apartment. "How could you leave me here alone?"
Oliver gently disentangles her fingers before he pushes the door shut behind him and refastens the locks. He turns to Felicity and places his hands lightly on her shoulders. She glances up at him through wisps of hair that have escaped her ponytail.
"Well, you did make it clear earlier this afternoon when I called you that you had this under control, but I'm here now, Felicity." He says with a smile, his blue eyes sparkling with affection. "What's wrong?"
"Everything!" she cries. "She hates me! She won't let me near her and keeps throwing things if I get within ten feet. Why did I volunteer to do this? More to the point, why didn't you stop me? It's clear I'm not cut out for this and a gentle word to that effect from my boyfriend may have been helpful."
Oliver struggles to keep his expression neutral, knowing that there's nothing he could have earlier to change Felicity's mind. "I don't think she hates you, Felicity. She's only nine months old and this is the first time Digg and Lyla have left her overnight. That's got to make her a little bit antsy."
"You wait." Felicity pokes him firmly in the chest. "You'll see. Our goddaughter hates me, Oliver."
His hands slip down her bare arms and he grabs one of her hands. "Come on, show me the damage."
She leads him through Digg and Lyla's living room which is strewn with baby-related detritus, including a wide range of child rearing books that Oliver suspects Felicity has been frantically reading through, looking for tips. Felicity pauses at the half closed sliding doors and looks apprehensively at Oliver.
"Do you want me to go first?" he whispers, his lips turned up slightly in a smile.
"Yes! The last time I went in there I got a stuffed bunny to the face." Felicity pulls her hand out of his and shoves him at the doors. She hovers behind him, hopping from one foot to the next, as he slides open the doors and steps inside the room.
The light is low, but he can easily make out the large crib that dominates the centre of the room. Standing up in the crib, small hands gripping the bars and dark hair billowing up in a riot of curls, is his nine month old goddaughter, Julia Diggle.
"Hey there, Jules," he says softly as he walks towards her. She solemnly watches his approach with enormous brown eyes. He pauses a few feet from her and watches for her reaction. She stares at him for a few seconds and then her chubby face breaks into a grin and she raises her hands for him to pick her up, cooing and babbling.
"That's my girl." Oliver smiles, stepping up to the crib and easily hoisting her up into his arms. Julia immediately fists one hand in his light grey sweater and reaches the other up to his face, her little fingers attempting to hook into his mouth. "Have you been torturing Aunt Felicity, Jules?" he asks, shifting his head back out of Julia's reach.
"Yes, she has." Felicity responds from her spot in the doorway, arms crossed. She glances warily at the baby, whose sunny expression takes on an almost mischievous glint as she regards her godmother. Felicity takes a small step closer to Oliver and Julia.
"Do you want to go to Aunt Felicity?" Oliver murmurs to the baby. Julia's grip on Oliver's shirt tightens and then she suddenly lets go and reaches both hands out to Felicity, leaning right forward and causing Oliver to tighten his grip on her so she doesn't tumble out of his arms.
"Oh!" Felicity says with surprise. She reaches out and takes Julia from Oliver, awkwardly hitching her up on her hip and pulling the baby in close. She gives Julia a hesitant smile. "I can't believe she's letting me hold her. This is- ow!" Felicity howls with pain as Julia's small hands bury into her ponytail and yank down firmly. "Oliver!"
He quickly moves to untangle Felicity's hair from Julia's hands and then takes the baby back into his arms.
"I told you! She hates me!" Felicity cries unhappily as she massages her head where her hair was pulled.
"All babies pull hair, Felicity." Oliver says, reaching out one hand to squeeze Felicity's shoulder while he uses the other to balance Julia on his hip.
"That was pulling with intent." Felicity replies, eyeing Julia with distrust. "Look! She just grinned at me. She enjoys my pain, Oliver."
Oliver bites his tongue and instead moves out into the lounge, depositing Julia into her playpen and directing her attention to the small pile of toys in the corner.
"You're an only child, Felicity, and you don't strike me as the type of person that babysat as a teenager to earn money for college. It's okay to be a little uncertain around babies if you haven't ever really dealt with them before." He points out reasonably as he tugs her down to sit beside him on the couch. She draws her knees up underneath her and Oliver slides his arm around her shoulder, drawing her in against his side.
"But I've been around Julia all the time! She should be used to me by now."
"Yeah, but always with her parents around. Plus, babies are a bit like dogs, they sense when you're nervous." She glances up at him and smirks.
"I am not going to tell Digg and Lyla that you just compared their adorable little baby's behaviour to that of a dog."
"That would be appreciated." He squeezes her shoulder. "But I meant it, Julia can sense that you're a bit nervous around her. I'm not sure why she then resorts to flinging toys at your head, but being the daughter of two ex-special forces soldiers probably has something to do with that."
Felicity lets out a snort of laughter and wriggles a bit closer into Oliver's side, looking across at Julia in her playpen. "I like babies, you know, I really do. Well, the cute ones, anyway. Not the ones that look like frogs that you have to pretend to find cute so your best friend from high school doesn't hate you. And I really want Julia to like me."
"She does like you, Felicity. You just need to spend a bit more time interacting directly with her, get her more used to you." Oliver suggests. "She's really just acting out tonight because her parents aren't here and she's not sure what's going on."
"And yet she likes you." Felicity points out.
Oliver shrugs. "What can I say? Women find me irresistible."
"Ugh, you." She gives him a little shove and then slips out from under his arm and goes to kneel down beside Julia's play pen. She picks up one of Julia's toys and wiggles it in the vicinity of Julia's face.
"Here's your slightly scary looking dolly, Julia." She coos, then turns the doll towards Oliver. "Is this something Sara bought? It looks like something Sara would buy."
"It looks like a doll version of Sara dressed as the Canary, so yes, I'm guessing Sara bought it." Oliver replies. "Or, more likely, had the League of Assassins' dressmaker sew it. It's scarily accurate."
"Weird." Felicity murmurs, both at the thought that Sara would think to get Julia a doll in her image and at the thought that the League of Assassins might a dressmaker willing to sew a child's toy. Nevertheless, she turns the doll back to Julia, who reaches out to snatch it and immediately stuffs one leg of the doll in her mouth.
"So how many times has Digg called to check on how you're going?" Oliver asks as he slides off the couch to sit beside Felicity on the floor.
"Would you believe no phone calls and only one text message where he tried to be all casual and it just came across as really intense?" Felicity replies with a smile. "I think he must have sent that while Lyla was in the bathroom. She was surprisingly calm when they left."
"It's still early. Wait until Julia's bedtime, I bet neither of them will be able to resist checking to see how things go."
"Well now you're here I'm not quite so wound up. I was afraid Digg would ring while I was mid panic attack and Julia was shouting down the building."
"So you're the babysitter that waits until the parents go out before inviting her boyfriend over?" Oliver smirks. "Interesting, Smoak. I figured you for the type to use the excuse to catch up on your homework."
Felicity resists the urge to swat him and instead adopts a dignified expression before responding. "As you pointed out earlier, I never did much babysitting. And I was never behind on my homework. Besides, I get the feeling that you might have been the sort of boyfriend that got invited over on a lot of babysitting jobs."
Oliver has the grace to look a little embarrassed at that. "I may have, once or twice, during high school."
"I knew it!" Felicity crows, her laughs drawing a few answering gurgles of happiness from Julia. "I can just imagine you skulking around in the bushes outside some poor family's house until the coast is clear."
"Please. I never skulk. Casually wait in my parked car down the street, yes, but skulk? Never."
"Well then, Mr Non Skulker, how about you help me get Julia settled for the night and you can tell me all about what happened after the parents left the house." Felicity pushes up to her feet and starts gathering up toys and books. "Considering you're the baby whisperer, I'll let you get Julia ready while I warm up her bottle. I'm afraid of what she might do to my hair if I get too close again."
Oliver grumbles good naturedly as he gets to his feet and then scoops Julia up out of her play pen. Between the two of them, they get Julia into bed within half an hour. Felicity finishes tidying up the living room while Oliver hunts through Digg's wine collection for a bottle he won't miss too much.
"The sweet sounds of silence," Felicity sighs a few minutes later, glass of wind in hand, sounding like she's been child minding for months and not just a few short hours. She closes her eyes and takes a deep sip, humming in approval at the rich red wine Oliver selected. He sits beside her with his own glass and Felicity immediately shifts in her seat and swings her legs up to rest on Oliver's lap.
"So I was thinking," he begins, tracing one of Felicity's calves with his hand. She peers over her wine glass at him suspiciously.
"Why are you using that tone?" she asks.
"What tone?"
"The tone that says you have something to say that you know I'm not going to like." She replies. "It's the same tone you used when you told me that rats had chewed through some of my cabling in the foundry after you forgot to get more rat poison."
Oliver groans. "Still you bring that up. It was six months ago."
"And it took me two days to fix. Two days, on my hands and knees." Felicity points out.
Oliver's grip tightens on her calf. "Oh I remember that part," he says lasciviously, before ducking the small throw pillow Felicity throws at his head.
"Get on with it, Oliver. Rip off the proverbial bandaid and hit me with it. Just let me take a swig of wine first."
Oliver waits until he sees her swallow. "I thought maybe I could meet you mother while we're in Vegas for that conference next week."
Felicity nearly drops her glass, but recovers before a drop of wine can splash out. "I'm sorry, I think I'm having a small stroke. Did you just volunteer to meet my mother? My mother?"
"Yeah. We've been partners for three years, Felicity. I think it's time I met your mother. And we'll be in the same city as her for an entire week. It'd be rude if we didn't see her."
Felicity feels a little rush of emotion at Oliver's declaration that they've been partners for three years. Technically it's only been a year since they got together romantically during their Hawaiian trip, but she loves that he prefers to count the start of their relationship as when they started working together on his – now their – crusade.
"Oliver, that's really sweet, but my mom…well, she's my mom. I really don't want to subject you to that."
"Come on, she can't be that bad." Oliver cajoles. "We can do it completely on your terms. It can be five minutes at the airport before our plane back to Starling for all I care. I just want a chance to meet her face to face."
"Why do you want to meet her so badly?" Felicity asks curiously. Oliver shrugs.
"She's your only family and family is important." He replies. "Besides, I bet she's got some really cute baby photos of you that she carries around."
Felicity leans over to swat at him. "Ugh, fine. I'll organise something. But consider this your one warning. Once you've met Donna Smoak, you can't un-meet her. And believe me, you're going to be hoping that you can."
"How bad can she be? She's related to you." Oliver points out, taking a sip of his wine.
It's on the tip of Felicity's tongue to point out that by that measure, his mother should have been considerably nicer than she actually was, but she holds it back. Felicity may never have liked Moira, but she did everything she could to protect Oliver and Thea and that's something Felicity will always be grateful for.
"You'll see." She says instead. "Now please tell me you've finished writing your speech."
Oliver rolls his eyes. "Yes I finished it and I gave it to Jerry yesterday so he can put together the accompanying powerpoint."
Felicity gives a hum of approval. Ever since she officially became more involved in Applied Science matters, Oliver had hired an administrative assistant to take over some of her more menial executive assistant jobs. He'd offered to find a new EA altogether, but Felicity knew he liked having her have his back and it was considerably easier to coordinate their nightly activities when she had control of his calendar. Still, she loved Jerry fiercely, mostly for his skills with the coffee maker and the gossip he provided via the secretarial pool.
"I still don't know why you won't do the speech," Oliver says. "You're the brains of this operation, not me."
It's Felicity's turn to roll her eyes. Even after all this time as CEO and the way that Oliver has turned the company around after the damage that Slade and Isabel did, he still doubts his skills. She finds it adorable and sad in equal measures.
"Don't be ridiculous, Oliver. I might have to explain the technical stuff to you, but you're the one that can immediately tell whether an idea is worth investing in and who the ideal market is. The conference organisers want a holistic view on QC's recent success and you're the man to do that. I'd bore them silly in minutes with techy talk or, worse, have them walking out if I somehow managed to go off on one of by babbling tangents."
Oliver's face is still showing his doubt, so Felicity sets her glass aside and crawls into his lap, curling her arms around his neck and wriggling a little as his free hand slides onto her thigh and squeezes. "You'll be great. Now, stop thinking about the conference and tell me more about these nights sneaking in to see your girlfriends while they were babysitting. Did you get caught?"
Oliver's eyes darken a little as she gives a further shimmy of her hips and he carefully sets aside his wine glass before looping his arm around her waist and dragging her in closer. "Once or twice."
"And what did you get caught doing?" she murmurs, leaning in to catch the lobe of his left ear in her teeth. His breath hitches and his grip on her tightens.
"I should probably just show you, I'm not really one for wordy explanations."