Disclaimer: The show isn't mine. That's too much responsibility. I just write fiction.

Middle of the night unconscious cuddles aren't their style.


Roy and Diggle are on the verge of tears in the background. Oliver keeps turning over his shoulder to stare daggers at them, telling them to shut up because they're laughing too loud.

Felicity is blushing horribly and Roy and Diggle's laughter echoes off the marble walls of the lobby they're standing in. "I swear I booked two two bedroom suites."

"I'm sorry ma'am but as I told you, we only have two rooms left and they're both single rooms."

Earlier the team had gone up to their rooms to find two single beds in Roy and Digg's suite and a double in Felicity and Oliver's. Felicity's face had been a highly embarrassed shade of red ever since.

"Felicity it's fine, I can sleep on the floor." Digg and Roy have left the two to sort out their situation, they snorted the entire way down the corridor. Oliver offers purely out of politeness, he really wouldn't mind having her next to him, then he would know without a doubt that she was safe. He offers anyway cause all he's ever done is push her away and he's not one for second chances so he certainly doesn't expect them to be given to him.

She shuts him down, refusing to let him sleep on the floor, with more blushing. What's left of the night is filled with awkward silences and quiet communications to decide who gets the bathroom first and what side of the bed they're sleeping on. He takes the side closest to the door. She understands, she always does, she doesn't comment. She just slips under the covers and reaches over to turn the lamp off, the only thing Oliver sees for the rest of the night is the light that filters in under the door.

He gets up close and personal with it at about 3am. He also learns at the same time that Felicity sleeps the same way she is when awake.

Adorable and surprisingly aggressive.

The soft little snoring comes first, that's the adorable part. Oliver lies awake listening to the sound. The swift kicks come second, Oliver's back and upper legs become well acquainted with them. This is the aggressive part.

Any fantasies Oliver has about holding her close by morning are erased the minute he hits the floor, he pops up to see if she's woken up by the thump his hands made when he saved himself from falling on his face. Nothing. The adorable snoring is unbroken and she's now claimed the bed for herself.

With her faced mashed into his pillow, there's no chance he's going to have any decent rest on the ground so he opts for the plush armchair instead.

As he pulls it up to the bedside so he can at least prop his legs up, Oliver can't stop himself from thinking that when they share a bed he'll need something bigger than the queen sized mattress he's got at the moment.


Wanted to do something a little different than the regulars trope clichè stuff. It's still fluffy though and I do have some other ideas along the same line, but we'll see. Once again cheers for getting to the bottom.