"Enough about my child, Felicity. You see her more than you see me."

"But she's too precious for words and it's not my fault that John asked me to babysit twice a week—"

"I know, and you're managing to find plenty of gushing words anyway. You're coming tonight, right?" Lyla asked.

"Yes, I'm coming, as I already told your selectively-forgetful husband three times," Felicity sighed.

"Bringing anyone?"

Lyla's question was casual enough, but it held just enough hope that Felicity felt honor-bound and personally obligated to screech out, "Yes, yes, I'm bringing someone, just started seeing him recently, no pressure in it yet, though, you know? I'll see you tonight."

Frick, Felicity thought as she ended the call amid Lyla's protests and questions, throwing her phone to the couch and sinking down into the furniture's sweet oblivion after it. Now she had to find a boyfriend in less than—she checked her watch—five hours.

As quickly as she'd fallen into the couch, she sprang back up. Roy could work. There wasn't a spark of romance between them but it would be entertaining enough to fake it for one night.

And John and Lyla cared just enough about her romantic life that they'd be happy she brought a date to their little party but not too concerned when she announced to John in a week or so that they'd broken up. And his girlfriend seemed pretty chill, from what Roy had said. She'd probably be okay with this.

Felicity gathered her keys and phone and purse and was skipping out the door when she remembered that it was January. And it was cold. She was lying on the ground in front of her porch when she remembered that cold sometimes meant ice. Ice usually meant sliding. Sliding sometimes meant falling down off a porch and breaking a bone. Which she had done, based on the agony in her right arm.

"Are you okay?" Her heart sank further than the fall had already taken it. That was the Hot Neighbor.

"Yeah, I'm good—" The Hot Neighbor vaulted the fence between their tiny yards and jogged over. He was helping her sit up before she'd fully acknowledged that he was standing above her. "Okay then." Hot Neighbor was also Nice Neighbor.

They both looked down at her arm and the completely wrong angle at which it was hanging. Felicity blinked back the tears of pain. "You're not okay, and unless you know someone who lives nearby and could drive you, I'll lock up and drive you to the hospital."

Felicity sighed, the sound somewhat shaking, and shook her head. The Hot Neighbor stood back up and ran back over to his house, the jump over the fence doing wonders to his back muscles—was his shirt even really a shirt, or just an undershirt?—and sprinted back with a towel. "Here, can you stand? I have enough medical knowledge to make a sling."

Felicity stood up, the world spinning just a little, and let the Hot Neighbor—blue eyes—tie the towel around her chest to hold her arm still. "Thank you so much," she said as they walked to her car. "What's your name, anyway?" she asked once the agony of sitting down and buckling up was over.

"Oliver Queen," he smiled as he tucked himself into the tiny front seat. Her car was too small for his legs and overall muscly-ness. "And you're Felicity, right?"

"That's me. Felicity Smoak."

"How long have you lived here?" Oliver asked, whirling her car out of the driveway. It was kinda nice to have a name instead of Hot Neighbor, really.

Felicity settled back into the passenger seat for the hopefully not-too-painful ride. "Three years, almost. I started working at Palmer Tech four years ago and then left there to start Helix Dynamics—that's my company, I started it with Curtis, you've probably seen him around the house—after a year. So I moved here since I was suddenly not getting much of an income." Oliver smiled, hopefully at the rambling and not the acknowledgment that she was almost poor AF. "You've been out here how long? Longer than me, right?"

"Almost six years," Oliver nodded. She hadn't realized how close they really were to the hospital until they were pulling up. Although—she checked the speedometer—he'd been going twenty over the speed limit. Great. "I wanted somewhere different that wasn't the middle of nowhere but was also quiet enough and boring enough that my mom wouldn't want to visit too much."

He pulled into a parking spot near the emergency room and jumped out of the car to help her out. They walked over to the waiting room with enough ease that Felicity was at least 80 percent sure that Oliver Queen had frequented the place rather often since he'd moved to the town.

"Felicity Smoak?" the receptionist called twenty minutes later. Felicity had spent the time trying not to cry and squeezing Oliver's proffered hand whenever she moved more than a twitch. Oliver had divided the twenty minutes between looking skittish, ridiculously concerned, and oddly amused. "Dr. Diggle will see you in Room 3."

"Frick," she muttered as Oliver helped her up. Not only had she broken her arm falling off her porch and then been rescued by her Hot Neighbor, John Diggle was going to get to examine her. It was a good thing that Oliver wasn't letting go of her other hand and that the call of pain meds was too strong. Otherwise she'd have taken her butt five cities over to avoid this.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Diggle—Felicity?" John looked up from his clipboard. "What did you do?"

Felicity mustered a smile that was probably faint and unconvincing. "Hi John, I fell off my porch because it's icy, please do something and don't say too much." It's the fact that she tried to smile that counted, right?

"Sure," John said, stepping forward to undo the towel sling. His next words were addressed to Oliver, who was standing as a silent and ripped shadow behind her. "I'm John Diggle, friend of Felicity's. And you are?"

"Oliver Queen, neighbor of Felicity's." And that was all he had to say, Felicity figured, since he immediately found himself holding her hand again while John checked her arm. If she was lucky, she didn't break any of his fingers.

"Definitely broken," John said after a minute of agony. "I'll get you ready for x-rays, just to determine the extent of the break and how to set it on the first try. Is there any possibility of pregnancy?"

"No," Felicity muttered. Hadn't been in a very long time, thanks much, John. Her arm fricking hurt.

John glanced back and forth between her and Oliver. "Are you sure?"

Oliver let out a somewhat strangled cough. That was when she understood. "Oh god, John, no! Oliver's just my neighbor. Who happened to see me fall off the porch and break myself. No relationship, no dating, no possibility of pregnancy whatsoever. Please leave."

Instead of leaving immediately, John just looked disappointed. "Oh. I thought he was your date, the one you mentioned to Lyla for the party tonight. Sorry, Felicity." And then he left Felicity to her misery.

"The doctor a friend of yours?" Oliver asked drily. She finally let go of his hand and he formed a fist carefully, making sure she hadn't broken anything.

Felicity sighed. "Yeah. I used to work with his wife and now I babysit their daughter a few times a week. They go through occasional stages of being very interested in my love life and I guess they're in one now."

Oliver laughed. "I understand that. My sister's doing the same now." Felicity glanced up at him and realized, yet again, how attractive he was. "If he lets you go and you're not too drugged up, I'll go with you to the party tonight."

All she could do for a moment was stare. Maybe John had given her the morphine already and she forgot? Unlikely. He was really hot, nice jawline. "What?"

He laughed again, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way she guessed was unfamiliar. "You've said at least twice that I was attractive, and I've thought the same of you too many times to say without it making me sound like a stalker, and you lied to the doctor's wife about having a date."

"When did I say you were attractive? I mean, duh, you are, but I don't remember—" Ah, the rambling. How much of the rambling had been out loud? Probably all of it, with her mental state. Curse the rambling. "Sure, then," Felicity surrendered, "come to the party and admire the baby with me. Because with the arm and the drugs on top of the general lack of social abilities it'll be best if Sara and I just hang out for a while."

"Awesome," Oliver grinned.

And that's how it all started.

"And that's the story of how a broken arm may not end up so bad," Felicity finished.

Livvy just stared for a minute until Felicity felt obligated to try to defend her story. But her middle child beat her to it. "So you're saying that it's okay that I broke my arm… because you met Dad when you broke yours?"

Her point was not completely grasped. Of course, it may not have been completely applicable, since Livvy was almost nine instead of twenty-six. "Yeah, that's what I was going for," she sighed.

"Seeing as we don't have any good-looking neighbors near my age, I'm only eight, and I broke the arm falling out of a tree, I don't think it really applies. But I did have a bet going with Jonathan about how you two met, and I won. So thanks for telling me!"

"You're welcome, sweetie," Felicity said, brushing her hand over Livvy's cheek. At least she had been amusing. "Do you need any more Tylenol?"

"I'm okay for now," Livvy beamed up at her. She kissed her daughter's little cheek and pulled the blanket up to her chin, hoping she'd sleep despite the pain she was trying to hide.

"How is she?" Oliver whispered when she'd turned the light out and stepped out of the pink-infested bedroom.

Felicity stepped into his arms and sighed, finally letting go of the agony of watching her baby girl in pain all day. "Just like you, pretending that it doesn't hurt at all. She only fell out of a pretty tall tree and broke a bone completely in half—"

Oliver silenced her with a kiss, a lovely trick he'd learned quickly in their relationship. "She'll be okay, honey." They stood in the hall for a few minutes, hoping they wouldn't hear Jonathan playing video games, Livvy whimpering, or Abby making any sort of unexpected screech. William was still at work, so Felicity was really hoping she didn't hear him. They'd been right to stop with four kids, she reflected absently. So very right.

"I wonder what kind of bet our middle children had going," Oliver whispered into her hair.

Felicity froze. She'd forgotten Livvy's pronouncement. "I have no idea…"

"Probably whether the way we met was overly sappy or not," Oliver said. "And it was, completely the ridiculously cute movie kind of meeting."

Felicity considered her husband and the situation for a second. "You're right," she muttered.

Only they could have managed it.