Title: Confessions
Author: Some1FoundMe
Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately for me.
Summary: When Felicity takes a sick day and Oliver can't reach her, he shows up at her apartment unannounced. The conversation that takes place is not what either of them had been expecting. Post 2x23.
Confessions
She isn't expecting him but when he bursts through her door, she isn't all that surprised. She is lying on her sofa under her favorite throw, one she's had since her MIT days, and the movie playing on her television is in its final few minutes. There is a now-cold cup of cocoa on her coffee table.
He scans the room, a determined, anxious look on his normally beautiful face. She knows immediately that he is looking for a threat. Why, she can't be sure, but she just stares at him until he realizes that they are alone and that she is perfectly fine.
"You weren't answering your phone."
He stands at the foot of her sofa, hands clenched at his side, and his glare is accusing.
She blinks up at him, "And?"
"I called to check up on you but you didn't answer. I thought –"
"I took a sick day for a reason, Oliver," she tells him, "I'm sick."
It is his turn to blink at her and she has the urge to roll her eyes. She manages to resist even though she isn't feeling particularly understanding. She isn't going to throw him a bone.
"Clearly I'm fine. You can go," she told him, not for a moment regretting her tone.
She can't help it. PMS has made her exceptionally irritable today and her patience has been shot to hell.
"What's wrong? Are you – did I do something?"
She shakes her head, "Not everything revolves around you. If you must know, I have awful cramps, I feel like I'm going to hack or cry, and I sort of want to punch someone. Happy?"
She watched the realization set in, saw it on his face the moment that he understood what she'd been implying. His face flushes.
"Is there anything that I can do?" he asks, "Do you need anything?"
She sighs, shaking her head. He is trying to be supportive, she knows. He was only trying to help when he'd barged into her apartment just moments earlier and interrupted her viewing of Pride and Prejudice.
"I'm okay, Oliver. But thanks. Really, you can go."
He continues to stare at her, unmoving, and she considers forcibly removing him from her apartment.
Everything is different now. They're different. Ever since the night in the mansion when he'd told her he loved her, the tension between them had become so dense, she wonders how they can breathe when they're in a room together. To make matters worse, Laurel is officially a part of their team. So not only does she have to deal with her feelings for Oliver, she has to deal with the awkwardness that is her new found relationship with Laurel.
"Please, Oliver, I took the day off because I wanted to be alone to deal with this. And you know, I've managed just fine every month since I was fourteen so…"
She feels her cheeks heat at the unintentional over-share. He certainly doesn't need to know how old she was when she started her period. He doesn't need to know any of her personal girl stuff.
After a long, excruciatingly uncomfortable moment, he turns and heads for her kitchen. It's not the door, but at least he isn't staring at her. She sits up against the arm of her sofa and waits for him to return. When he does, the item in his hand confuses her. He hands her the bowl before sitting down beside her.
"Cereal?" she asks.
He shrugs, "Cocoa Puffs. It was the only chocolate that I could find."
It's her turn to stare.
"When Thea… When she first started, all she ever wanted was chocolate and sappy movies. I tried to do what I could for her. She cried – a lot – so we'd play hooky and sit on the couch all day. She liked to cuddle."
The grin he shoots her makes her flush further. Her stomach flip-flops.
"Don't you – aren't you supposed to be training with Laurel or something?" she asks.
He shakes his head and rests one arm across the back of the couch. He takes the bowl from her hands again and she knows what he expects her to do. She almost doesn't move just to spite him. She moves anyway, curling up into his side. He passes the bowl back to her and pulls the blanket across her lap.
"What are we watching?" he questions.
"Pride and Prejudice. Kiera Knightly, Matthew McFayden. It's my favorite."
He smirks, "Ah. For Thea, it was The Notebook. I've seen that movie a thousand times over. Thank god there were no DVD players on the island."
She glances at him, shocked. It is very rare when he mentions the island and the time that he spent there. It is even rarer for him to make a joke about it. The flight back from Lian Yu, after they had locked Slade in the prison ARGUS had built there, had been a bit of a revelation. He hadn't confessed to everything. He hadn't answered all of her questions. But she had learned bits and pieces of his story. She knew now, for sure, that he hadn't been alone on the island. He hadn't even been there for the entire five years as the world believed. She'd been relieved when he'd revealed what he had on that flight. She had thought that it meant that they were getting closer. She hadn't expected him to push her further away.
"It's almost over," she tells him, clearing her throat uncomfortably to chase away the thoughts that have been plaguing her for months, "The movie, I mean. We can watch something else. I do have The Notebook…"
He chuckles and the sound causes goose bumps to erupt on her arms. She feels, rather than sees, when he shakes his head.
"No, please, no. There are hundreds of movies that I missed in the time that I was gone, I'd much rather watch one of those," he pleads.
She doesn't know what to make of this, of his mood. He seems happy, lighter than normal, but she isn't sure what to attribute it to. He has spent so much time in these last few months with Laurel training or at the new lair getting everything set up or fighting to get control of his company back and every time she sees him, his is tense and frustrated. She understands his anger. Giving control of Queen Consolidated to Isabel had been a mistake - a huge, gianormous, unforgivable mistake - but she knew that when he'd done it, he hadn't been thinking straight. He'd been thinking about Thea and Slade and how desperately he needed to get his sister back. She was fully aware of how important it was for him to regain his position as CEO because the company was all he had left of his family. His mother was gone, his father, too, and for all they knew, Thea was never coming home. Piled onto that pressure is the fact that Diggle is being pulled away from their nighttime activities by his expecting ex-wife and the fact that Laurel, for some God forsaken reason, thinks that she is destined to replace Sara. Both of these things are not helping.
She completely understands why he's been grumpy and distracted so why he is suddenly sitting on her sofa, relaxed, his shoes discarded on her floor and his arm around her shoulders, she can't be sure.
"What do you suggest? Comedy, drama, science fiction? I'm game for anything as long as it's not some sappy Nicholas Sparks movie."
She sets her now empty cereal bowl on the table in front of them before reaching for the remote. She makes it to the main menu of her video streaming service and finds a movie that she has seen dozens of times, one that still makes her laugh, and sets it up to play. Resting back against him, his arm comes down over her shoulder and she does not push him away when he grasps the loose material of her shirt between his thumb and forefinger. She doesn't shoo him off because she does not want to draw attention to the fact that the shirt that she wears belongs to him.
"Who's Emma Stone?"
She turns her head to gape at him.
"Oh come on. You've been back in civilization for more than two years, Oliver, you can't be that out of touch with current celebrities."
He shrugs, "I don't exactly have time to watch television or go to the movies, Felicity."
"You're here with me watching a movie now," she points out, "Did you suddenly discover some time in your über busy schedule?"
The question is meant to be teasing but when he responds, his words are more serious than she expects them to be.
"I can always find time for you."
She tenses, her heart in her throat as Oliver plucks the remote from her hand and pauses the movie before the opening credits have even finished. Angling his body so that he's facing her, he takes both of her hands in his.
"I haven't been making time though, have I? I've been so caught up in getting the company back and working with Laurel and trying to be a good friend to John that I haven't – I haven't been a good friend to you. Felicity, I'm sorry."
She blinks again, more confused now than she has been since the moment he arrived. This is not the Oliver Queen that she knows. She doesn't know who this man is or why he feels the need to apologize to her. She hasn't seen much of him since they'd landed back in Starling City, that was true, and when she has seen him, it has almost always been at their new base of operations. But she hadn't let it bother her. Or at least, she has been trying not to let it bother her. She certainly doesn't think that she's been sitting around moping and letting them all know that she's been feeling left out.
She gives him what she hopes is a nonchalant lift of one shoulder. She doesn't want him to make a big deal of this.
"You've got a lot on your plate, Oliver, I get it. We're all a little busy. John and Lyla are prepping for the baby and Laurel's working her job at the DA's office. You've been fighting for QC pretty much since the moment we were back on the ground. It isn't as if things have been slow around here," she assured him, "And, you know, I'm not exactly sitting around twiddling my thumbs. I've been doing a lot of consulting work on the side and there's the whole 'find Thea' mission that I've been on. I haven't been waiting on you to come and hang out with me, you know."
The grip that he has on her hand tightens.
"Still, I – I should've realized that I haven't been here for you. I promised you that you wouldn't lose me but I've done a pretty lousy job of keeping that promise."
Her heart lurches into her throat and she jerks away from him as if he's just slapped her. She stands quickly and paces away from the sofa. She remembers very clearly their conversation from the afternoon of his mother's rally. He had promised her that she wouldn't lose him just before she'd told him what she'd learned about Thea's parentage. She has replayed those words in her mind over and over, just as she's replayed his speech from the night at the mansion. This is not a conversation that she is prepared to have tonight but it is one that she has practiced.
"You don't have to do this. I don't need you feeling guilty for not being around. I don't need you feeling guilty for saying things that you don't mean and breaking my heart no matter how unintentional. What I need is for this to go back to how it was. I don't want to have to keep tiptoeing around you and how I feel. We're friends, at least we were, but this – this doesn't feel like us being friends. It feels like you trying to make up for something. It feels like you feeling obligated to spend time with me, to take care of me, because you think that it's what I want from you. But Oliver what I really want, is for you to be honest with me and treat me with the respect that I deserve."
He takes a sharp breath and the noise causes her to freeze in her frantic pacing. They are facing one another, Oliver on his feet in front of her. Four feet separates them.
"You think that I don't respect you?"
His voice is low and rough, his Arrow voice, and she knows that her accusation has offended him. She hadn't meant to imply that he doesn't respect her and it isn't that she actually feels that way. She is just feeling incredibly vulnerable at the moment. His nearness isn't helping the situation.
"I think that you take advantage sometimes," she confesses, "That you use the people in your life because you can. You knew that I had feelings for you and you used that against me. You just had to make it convincing, Oliver, you didn't have to tell me that you love me. You didn't have to –"
"Damn it, Felicity, I do! I do love you!"
His yell takes her by surprise and she immediately stumbles back a step. He moves forward as quickly as she'd moved away, grabbing for her before she gets too far out of reach.
"Did you hear me? Felicity, I love you. What I said that night –"
She shakes her head, "Stop. Please, just stop."
His hands fall from her arms and it is his turn to back up. His eyes never leave her face. She follows his movements, watching as he sinks back onto her sofa and puts his head in his hands.
"I had no intention of telling you. Honestly, I don't think I even really realized it until that night. I had feelings for you, I did, but I'd hardly been able to admit it to myself," he mutters, "I didn't plan on telling you but I thought… there was a chance that I wouldn't get to you in time. There was a chance that Slade would kill you before I could stop him and I couldn't let you go without telling you how I felt."
She sits on the floor in the middle of her grandmother's antique rug. She cannot bring herself to move closer to him. She can't even catch her breath.
"So what does this mean? What happens now?" she asked.
He shrugs, his eyes hollow as he stares at her. She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know how she feels but she does know that Oliver's admittance of his feelings for her will change things. Again.
"I can't… Felicity, I'm not ready. It isn't because I don't want to be with you. It isn't because I don't love you. I need to figure out who I am. I need to make amends with what I've done. I can't be the man that you deserve, not yet. But I want to be."
Her eyes, surprisingly, are dry. She has a lump the size of an orange in her throat that makes it difficult to breathe or speak, but she does not cry. A part of her wants to.
"You don't have to change anything about yourself for me, Oliver. I love you now. I loved you before. I think I've known since I found out that you were the vigilante. I don't want you to be anyone else. But I understand what you're saying. If you need time, then I'm willing to wait," she assures him.
When he doesn't respond, she continues.
"I don't need to keep looking, Oliver. I've already made up my mind. I know what I want and it's you. So if you need time, I'm going to be here when you've figured it out."
She doesn't expect him to respond so when he doesn't, she isn't disappointed. She is surprised, however, when he gets to his feet once again and crosses to where she is still sitting. He holds out his hand for her and pulls her up. When he draws her into the circle of his arms, she is downright shocked. He has never initiated a hug between them. She is usually the instigator in such situations.
"I won't be long," he whispers, his lips very close to her ear, "I promise."
He presses a gentle kiss to her cheek, just a simple brush of his lips, but she shivers nonetheless. When he steps away and resumes his seat on her sofa, she cants her head, confused yet again.
"What are you doing?"
He shrugs, "I want to watch the movie. Is that okay?"
She smirks, shakes her head, and drops herself onto the couch beside him. She tucks her feet beneath her and presses her body into his side. His arm comes around her shoulders again and suddenly, instead of being suffocated by his closeness, she is comforted by it. They may not be exactly where she wants them to be but they are one step closer. Her heart knows what it wants and it is the man sitting beside her. If that means that she has to wait a little while longer, she's can live with that. She can live with it because she does love him and he does love him and she knows that, someday, they'll find a way to make their love for one another work.
Someday will come soon enough.