Hi! This is a response to the following prompt sent at tumblr:

"Felicity has the flu or something and Oliver caring for her"

It's a short fluff drabble (with some Firefly love, because I couldn't help myself :)

It doesn't contain spoilers

Enjoy!

I'LL MAKE IT BETTER

- Yes... Yes... This is a fertile land and we will thrive. We will rule over all this land and we will call it... This Land.

- I think we should call it your grave!

- Ah, curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!

- Ha ha ha, mine is an evil laugh, now die!

- Ahh, no God. Oh, dear god in heaven.

Felicity laughed at Wash's antics, which led her to have a coughing fit. If there was something that could cheer her up, even if she was running a temperature, was a Firefly marathon.

She had come down with the flu two days ago but, drowning with work, had held on as long as she could before taking a sick day. However when she woke up that morning she could barely think straight.

So there she was, eight hours later, laying on her couch, still feeling like hell. Her eyes were glued to the screen as chaos ensued when there was a knock. Slowly she stood up holding onto the edge of the couch, feeling unstable, and walked to the door, brow furrowing. Looking through the peep hole her eyes widened in surprise. She opened the door.

"Oliver?" she said, her usual clear voice now hoarse.

"Woah, you are worse than I thought"

"Gee, thanks!" she snapped back, a smile growing in her face.

"I mean… Diggle told me you were out sick, but you don't look so great." As soon as the words left his lips he winced. She laughed out loud.

"And here I thought I was the only one who could make uncomfortable remarks". He smiled coyly and walked inside, a hand casually falling to her back, leading her to the couch. She took his cue and laid down, still feeling a bit woozy, now not only because of the flu.

"What are you doing here anyway?" she called, seeing his retreating form enter her kitchen, a brown bag on his hands.

"Well, I was done at the office for the day so thought of dropping by to check on you" he yelled, his voice barely heard over the rustling sounds he was making.

"So, no working the night for you today?" She paused, replaying the phrasing in her mind "Woah, that totally made you sound like a prostitute".

Oliver chuckled as he reentered the living room, glad that she was still his Felicity, even when feeling under the weather.

"Not today"

He sat beside her on the couch and handed her a mug. She eyed it skeptically and then looked back at him. He gave her a slight nod so she sipped at it.

"Uh, that's disgusting" she shrieked. "Are you trying to poison me, Queen?" He chuckled, amused by her reaction.

"That's a special tea made with some herbs from the island. They've cured some pretty high fevers."

"Um, well they better, cause I feel like I've been run over by a truck… twice. Every move I make hurts. Even muscles I didn't know I had until know are throbbing in pain." Oliver stared at her, a gentle smile still on his face. "God, I'm sorry. Here I am rambling about having a cold when you are getting shot more often than not."

"Hey, it's ok. At least I'm asking for it."

Her mouth tugged up in a smile. "So it takes me being almost in my death bed for you to crack a joke".

"Hah. Drink the tea, Felicity."

And so she did, shutting her eyes and pretending it was her favorite coffee. Oliver let his eyes wander, taking in her apartment. He had been there once, before she knew his secret, to make sure she was trust-worthy. This time it felt better. He wasn't intruding on her space, instead he was invited in. If he had to say, it hadn't changed much. Yes it had been almost a year since he had crawled into the back of her car, but Felicity spent most of her time between the office and the foundry.

"It's not much." His eyes fell on her as she spoke. "I know it's small, no mansion or fancy art work on the walls, but I love it here."

"I like it", he shared. "It's very… you".

She snorted and coughed again. "I'm going to take that as a compliment"

"You should." He smiled at her tenderly, and put and arm around her, his fingers grazing the back of her neck. A warm fuzzy feeling spread through her stomach. Their eyes locked, silence overtaking the room. Suddenly she felt light-headed and not because of the flu. Oliver was the first to look away, breaking the spell.

"So what are we watching?" he asked, tilting his head to the side to meet her eyes again.

"Firefly" she beamed at him. "Forget everything you think you know about television, Queen, 'cause you're about to have your mind blown away"

"I'm sure I will" he whispered, eyes still fixed on her. With one final smile she faced away, pressed play and laid back in the couch; the feel of his fingers drawing soothing circles against her neck making everything better.

Being sick wasn't that bad after all.

Thank you for reading! As always, encouragement or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)