Disclaimer: Arrow belongs to the CW, Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisber and DC Comics. Any recognizable character belongs to them and I'm just borrowing them for fun.
AN: My native language isn't English so all the mistakes are mine and mine alone as I don't have a beta. If you spot any, please let me know so I can correct them as fast as possible.
This is a sequel to my previous 5+1 fic "Like an old married couple". It follows the events started there so I encourage you to read it first so this makes sense.
I felt that, despite the the fact that "Like an old married couple" was finished and rounded, Oliver still had a lot to say and they still had things to live in the little universe I created for them. I hope you agree and enjoy.
01 - WARDROBE MALFUNCTION
Their whole relationship has been plagued by rumors. Whispers have followed them as hunting dogs. Hushed tones have become such a familiar buzz in their ears they've grown accustomed to it, mostly. They're usually able to ignore them; they certainly have much better things to do than worry about nonsense. But this time's impossible because it's not the damned press or the nosy people surrounding them in this stupid party; talking and assuming. It's his own sister, his own family. And it stings, fiercely.
She probably thinks she's being oh so sneaky and careful in her coveted glances – that really linger a second too long not to be conspicuous – and in her quiet murmurs. But she really isn't and it's starting to draw attention to her and to them. And there's nothing he hates more than that.
He's been feeling them for a long while now – days, actually – but, since she has just recently gotten engaged to Roy, he has simply thought she was observing how fulfilling marriage life can be. Taking pointers, so to speak.
For once in his life, he thinks, he's setting a good example for her. Not in the way he actually got married or started a relationship with his wife, because his little sister's way was much healthier and satisfying, but in the result. He's together with the person that means the world to him and they're blissfully happy. That's what's important and what he's always wanted for his Speedy.
She's never seen a healthy marriage until he manned up and surprised his girl with an impromptu wedding. God knows their parents were more than a little messed up, both as individuals and even more so as a couple. But not Felicity and him.
She's never seen such harmony, such happiness, such peace before in her life. And he's glad to be the one showing it to her, being the example of how life can reward you if you're willing to fight and work for it. It took him a really long time, but a needed one he cannot regret because it got him the best gift he could have ever asked for.
He knows for a fact Speedy agrees with him or he wouldn't have to wake up early every Sunday morning to her banging on their house's door to hang out with the new sister she accuses him of not sharing enough. He's still working on finding it endearing but he knows she means well.
But this is not meaning well, not when it has been making Felicity stiff as a board in his arms for the better part of an hour as she finally caught on all the people observing and hushing about them or, more specifically, about her.
She's barely breathing, the short puffs of air brushing irregularly against the skin of his neck, and the straining fabric of her already tight dress getting tighter and more constricting around her torso the more time passes. He's getting out of ideas for calming her, the circles on her back stopped working 20 minutes ago and the kisses on her temple and steady breathing coaching have just proved ineffective. At this rate he'll just drag her out of here, Thea's engagement party or not.
He cannot make out what the people are saying under the pounding bass of the songs, so it's impossible for him to reassure her of whatever it is it's making her so damned uncomfortable. But, knowing his sister as he knows her, the huge grin she's sporting means nothing good.
The first time he saw it she was five years old and he had fallen asleep babysitting her. A rookie mistake he never made ever again. It's deeply ingrained in his memory how his sweet angel, tired of cutting little confetti with her kiddy scissors for their mother's birthday party that evening, had decided to play hairdresser. On his head and on hers. He was so mad at the time he's scowling in the shared photo he now carries fondly in his wallet sporting his very first buzz-cut. It was the only way to take care of the damage.
The second time he saw it she was eight and he'd just graduated high school. He was going to spend the summer away with Laurel and Tommy celebrating but, first, he was going to take his baby sister for a small trip to Disneyworld, just the two of them.
He spoiled her rotten. He should have known better than to let her eat all that greasy junk food before she put that grin of hers to use and begged for a ride on the roller coaster their mother strictly forbade her to get into. He caved and he got puked on, a lot. She also puked on herself, the manager of the attraction, the poor people waiting in line and on his brand new car, repeatedly.
The third time she was 12 and he just knew it was bad news but, despite all that, he ignored all the signs for days. He should have known his little sister was up to no good when for two weeks straight his nightly conquest disappeared the moment he left his room to grab a bottle of champagne and she grinned madly at breakfast the next day.
Exactly 11 girls ran away before he caught her right handed scaring the living daylights out of one of them with her Regan MacNeil impersonation, complete with the creepy nightgown and the gibberish talking, in the corridor of their bedrooms. It was his fault anyway; he really shouldn't have caved and let her see the Exorcist with him and Tommy a couple of weekends previous.
The fourth time he was just really glad seeing her so happy again, after five years of Hell and a great and painful distance from the most important person in his life, he just forgot. He should have remembered that particularly grin came with consequences. So when he got the call that his little sister was in the hospital for a traffic accident, and he almost had a heart attack, he knew he ought to have done something to prevent it. He had let her down then but he surely didn't afterwards being her rock and putting Count Vertigo on a padded cell for messing with her and his city.
Now there it is again and he knows, he just knows, this time the cursed one will be his wife and he doesn't know if he'll be able to spare her.
It happens like magic, as if the tight red dress has listened to his worst thoughts and decided it was time to exert its revenge. For a second he believes the tiny rip on the side stitches of the dress is an anomaly, that it'll stop right there. But he's so, so wrong.
He can feel her burrow herself farther into him, flaming cheeks scorching hot against his neck, when she feels it give out. She doesn't breathe for a minute, waiting for the ripping to stop but it doesn't. It just continues and the new panicked and heaving breaths she takes aren't helping matters.
He'd catch her cheeks into his hands to get her to calm down but he's the only thing holding the stupid strapless gown over her body. He'd die before letting anyone but him see his wife naked. Her whole beauty is for his eyes alone.
The buzzing grows louder and he doesn't know if it's because people are noticing Felicity's predicament or because his sister certainly has and she's trying to gather all the attention to her in a late effort to save her the embarrassment. Whatever it is it's certainly not enough because a couple of traitor tears damp his neck and his heart just breaks. He's going to have a great talk to Thea about boundaries and coveted glances and upsetting his wife, this will not be forgotten.
In the meantime, his whole focus is on said wife who's now openly crying in embarrassment and frustration on his shoulder as he maneuvers them towards the hidden door of the foundry. The only safe place they've got right now.
It's pretty hard punching the access code and herding her down the metal stairs with only one free hand but he's not complaining. He's more than a little touched that she's being so open and soft with him, it's certainly not a side he sees often from his strong girl but one he knows it's deeply buried underneath a solid façade born of the need to cover years upon years of insecurities of youth.
He's done his best for years now to reassure her of her permanent place in his life after her abandonment issues reared their ugly face. He didn't do particularly well in the beginning but he's bust his ass to make up for that and to battle those anxieties that shouldn't have been there in the first place. His marriage to her have only made him push further into helping her rid of those and the others he never even knew existed.
He still has trouble swallowing as he recalls how timid she was the first time they made love, how she tried to cover herself up and bowed her head to hide her blush. It stroked him, deep in his core, because she had demonstrated to have confidence in spades for years and that new image he was seeing was incongruous to him. What he was starting to realize was that self-assurance was a wall, a projection to protect herself, and he certainly didn't like it one bit. It took him weeks of constant and deliciously bittersweet working, coaxing her naked the second they were alone and worshipping every single inch of her body for days on end, before she could let go of that unnecessary shyness around him.
He had thought that having her cover herself in front of him would be the worst but he realized it was just the tip of the iceberg thanks to his always delightful and helpful mother.
To this day he still gets so mad he's not sure how he didn't break her neck right there and then. Felicity probably had something to do with it, she most likely grasped his wrist tightly letting her thumb rub steadily across his pulse as she forcefully turned his jaw to gaze at her. She knows he can't look at her with anything other than love and calmness and she uses it to her advantage. Or, maybe, she turned glassy eyes away from his before excusing herself quietly to the ladies room; which just disarms him in a whole different way, a very painfully way.
He honestly cannot recall what happened and he doesn't want to either. He has enough remembering how she fled up the stairs of their home so quickly he was worried she'd snap an ankle on those sky-high heels. He has enough remembering that was the first and only night, since the one when he thought he lost her for good underneath the salmon ladder, they haven't slept side by side. He has enough remembering how he choked on his own tears most of the night hours hearing her sobs and hiccups muffled by the closed door of their bathroom as he sat with his back flushed to it just to be a little bit closer to her. He has enough remembering how the cold and condescending tone of her mother froze him on the spot as she wielded her words as deadly as Slade did his swords: "You will never be enough for him". He has enough remembering his Felicity's recognition of his mother's lie flash in her eyes, the worst and most inaccurate lie ever told.
He's never been more baffled in his entire life. How could she, the only person in the world to put up with him, his moods, his violence and his darkness believe she's beneath him? How could she, the only person in the world to stand up to him, eye to eye, believe she's below him? How could she, the only person in the world that gives him hope and peace and unyielding love and forgiveness believe she's not enough? He must have been doing something really badly if she truly believed that. And, for the first time ever, he realized just how truly messed up Felicity really is. He realized how alike they are, even in their differences, and it only makes him love her more. Because, just as she has been helping him heal for years now, he's going to spend the rest of his doing exactly the same.
They've been working on it for months now and if he hadn't experienced it he wouldn't be able to believe it, but it's only made them even closer. And people have noticed, especially his sister. The same sister that's gotten him in this predicament in the first place.
He represses a sigh because he just knows she'll take it the wrong way, that she'll believe he's frustrated with her instead of at the real culprit, and he surely doesn't need anything else to upset her further. It's all his fault, anyway.
He's the one who's been feeding her so much take-out for weeks on end her already delightful curves have gotten just a little bit rounder and feminine; not enough to be noticeable by anyone but his trained eye and, apparently, her already figure-hugging dresses. He's fallen in love with them as much as he's in love with the owner but, right this instant, he curses them. If it weren't for them, they wouldn't have had this particular problem and they'll be dancing and sipping champagne on Verdant's dance floor.
Now that they're alone, and safe from prying eyes, he relinquishes his hold on the satiny fabric, letting in pool at their feet. She's still so upset and so embarrassed she doesn't realize when he unclasps her bra, letting it join the dress. It's not until his jacket and shirt are off and the skin of their chests touches she notices what he's doing.
It might be cliché but even after all the crying she looks beautiful. Her reddened button nose is runny but so adorable when she wrinkles it as she sniffs he cannot help the kiss he puts there. He also cannot help kissing her wet cheeks free of her salty tears or running his thumbs underneath her eyes, smudging further the ruined eye makeup.
Little by little he undresses them and little by little she calms down. When they're completely bare and she's so pliant in his arms he's mostly the only thing keeping her upright he lifts her, letting her legs wrap around his waist. He walks slowly to the foundry bathroom, savoring the feeling of her impossibly soft skin over his rugged one. He knows they still have a lot of work to do about her more than evident issues but not tonight. Tonight they both need to get rid of the remains of this hell of a party. Tonight they bask in each other's presence. Tonight he tends to his wife and they enjoy the overly hot showers she favors.
It's not until he's helping her wash out he realizes what the people were murmuring about, what Thea saw. He honestly hasn't notice it before, not until now, but now he does and he lets his fingers circle deliberately soft over her slightly rounded stomach. He knows it's not the real deal. He knows in these especially hard weeks of Arrow duty she's barely had time to breathe, let alone exercise or even think about shopping. But he cannot help but hope that one day, hopefully soon, it's back again but as a symbol of the start of their very own family.