Title: Past, Present, and Future
Category: Arrow
Genre: Romance
Ship: Oliver/Felicity, bits of Oliver/Laurel, and Oliver/Sara
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just playing with someone else's toys.
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 1335
Summary: It's never been just one person who defines love, love is defined by the many loves of ones life.
Past, Present, and Future
"The past has been there all along, reminding us: This time-maybe, hopefully, against all odds, we will get it right."
― Leslie T. Chang
Past
For the first time that Oliver can remember, Laurel looks completely awkward, and out-of-place.
It's painful to watch her standing in the foundry, bag clutched tightly in front of her, shifting from foot to foot, so much so that Oliver all but trips over himself getting off the salmon ladder to get to her.
"Laurel, what are you doing here?" He wipes sweat from his forehead and reaches out for the bottle of water he knows Felicity has ready for him.
"This is the top-secret crime-fighting hero base of operations, isn't it?"
Oliver raises an eyebrow at the brunette before him and hears Diggle suppress a laugh behind them.
"Well, we don't generally call it that, but yes, you've come to the right place." Felicity says. Both Oliver and Laurel turn to her. She doesn't look up from the computer screen in front of her but can feel both sets of eyes.
Like having an itch, Felicity can't ignore the eyes forever and looks up nervously.
"What? We don't…" Her voice trails off and just as quickly she spins in her chair and goes back to her computers. "Sorry," Oliver hears Felicity mumble under her breath.
"I'm here because I told you before, Oliver, I want to help you save this city." She is determined and fierce, wearing Sara's leather jacket with fire in her eyes and purpose in her stance.
If there is anyone who can fill Sara's shoes, Laurel can.
"I'm not going to let you push me away either," Oliver smiles down at her, towel draped around the back of his neck, and crosses his arms over his chest.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Felicity's head whips up, eyes surprised and worried as she looks before them, but she catches herself before anyone can notice.
Laurel opens her mouth to fight, to sell Oliver on the pros of her being part of the team to defuse his cons and stops suddenly when his words sink in.
"Wait, what? You're not going to fight me on this?" It's the first time Felicity has seen Laurel thrown off her game.
Oliver smirks and shakes his head.
"If this last year taught me anything, it's that there is strength in numbers. If you want in Laurel, we have a lot of work to do."
Laurel smiles at him, as he extends a hand towards her.
"Well, let's get to work then." Her hand fits small and strong in his own.
Present
Sara comes back looking for Felicity.
Something about Helena Bertinelli and Oracles and birds; it's a lot of nonsense that Felicity tries to make sense of.
But though she might have come looking for Felicity, Sara finds herself as Oliver's bed-mate once again.
At least this time they leave any type of foundry christening alone.
"Explain to me again what your plan is?" Felicity looks up at Sara, who is perched at the edge of her desk with questioning eyes and a smile.
"You, Felicity, are the reason there is any good left in the world." She stands and drops a light kiss on her blonde friend's head and pats her shoulder. "It's going to work. You always make it work."
"Damn it," Laurel's angry growl has them both turning towards the training mat, where the lawyer turned hero-in-training is laying, sweaty and defeated.
"Welcome to work, Laurel," Oliver grins as he offers her his hand and pulls her up.
"I feel like every part of me has been hit by a semi."
"Maybe it's time for a break." Sara suggested. "What do you say to some of dad's homemade lasagna followed by warm chocolate chip cookies?"
"Sorry, Sara, but as of five months ago, cookies are off of Laurel's diet; lasagna I'll allow." Diggle interjects from across the room and Laurel rolls her eyes at him.
"My sister is in town, Dig. I'm eating the cookie-you know what, I might even have two!"
So…dinner?" Sara asks. Laurel nods her head and grabs her purse before heading up the stairs.
"I'm going to eat so many carbs tonight…" Laurel chants on her way up the stairs with a smile, while Sara looks back over her shoulder at Oliver.
"Coming, Ollie?"
Oliver nods, grabbing his shirt off the map and follows the girls up the stairs.
He catches Sara's hand as they go and squeezes.
Future
He looks at her over the rim of his wine glass.
Another charity gala.
Another custom suit.
Another night, of pretending to be playboy billionaire Oliver Queen.
The only upside to all this is that it's also another night of seeing her in a body-hugging dress that, in her words, "costs more than her yearly salary".
As far as he's concerned, it's worth every penny he pays her.
As always, she is breathtaking.
"Something on your mind, Mr. Queen?" she asks when she catches him staring.
The night is late, the gala in full swing, dinner finished, money donated and dessert sits before them.
It's not that Felicity can't appreciate the finer things in life; it's just that she finds it almost wasteful. She would have been just as happy (if not more so) watching a Firefly marathon, in her pajamas, eating pizza.
But she's always been a sucker for dessert.
Oliver knows this.
He orders her a glass of red wine and allows himself to take pleasure in the sight of her satisfaction.
"Just making sure you enjoy the wine; I did owe it to you, after all." Their table is empty; other guests having left or dancing, save for the two of them.
Her eyes widen in shock and surprise.
"Are you telling me that this is a Rothschild?" Her eyes are impossibly huge as she looks from him to the wine before her and back again; he can't stop himself from smiling at her delight.
"It's not just Rothschild, Felicity, it's a 1982, like I promised." He laughs at her and she almost chokes.
"Are you nuts? Do you know how much a bottle of this costs?"
"A promise is a promise." He continues to watch her and her breath catches; she must be wondering at the look she's seeing in his eyes.
"You are a good man, Oliver Queen."
Long after the wine is gone and the guests have left, it's just Oliver and Felicity in the back of his limo. She finally lets her hair loose from the messy bun she's had it in all night.
"I love raising money for underprivileged children as much as the next person but I'm so glad that's over; my feet are killing me."
It's been years since that faithful first meeting in the I.T. department; years since she found out whom he really was.
Yet in all that time, Felicity still prefers her panda flats to the 5-inch heels that come along with her "secret identity."
At least all the rumors and speculation about the nature of their relationship has gone away.
Since making Felicity his EA, Oliver has dated Sara, spent nearly two years with Lois Lane, almost married Laurel Lance and gave most of his heart away to Chloe Sullivan.
They are both older, and wiser, with broken hearts.
But she was still his constant.
"As always, Mr. Queen, thank you for a lovely night." She reaches over and kisses him lightly on the cheek as she steps out of the limo with a light laugh.
"Goodnight, Felicity," He gives her a small wave as he watches the door to her apartment building close securely behind her.
So much of the world he lives in, seems designed to break him, but he continues to forge ahead.
Part of him will never really let go of Sara, and the parts that had been tested, or strengthened or broken, were still part of him nonetheless.
But the good parts, the parts that seemed to thrive and push forwards, the parts that still believe, and hope and love…well, those parts belong to Felicity.
{End}
Author's note: This is not only my first Arrow fic, but it's my first fic in years; be kind.
Thanks so BunnyGoBoom for beta'ing…go read her Olicity stuff it's fantastic!
-Girlygirl