A/N: Hello all, new to this fandom but so very in love! Ever since I finished watching last week, I am been writing like a crazy person. So if you like this little story, let me know! There's more where it came from!
The quick flick of Shane's hair caught Oliver's eye. While nearly everything about the blonde fascinated him these days, this was different. He studied her as her attention shifted between Rita and Norman, causing her ponytail to swing again. He zeroed in on what stilled him. A pale purple swatch of fabric was knotted into her hair. The provenance of said fabric was what really intrigued him. He glanced at his suit jacket hanging on the coat rack to confirm his suspicions. She'd taken his pocket square. He vaguely remembered her mentioning that they matched when he picked her up that morning, but he hadn't expected her to demonstrate how much. While the fact that the silk pocket square was the exactly color of the large flowers on her spring dress made his lips twitch into a small smile, something about the idea of her taking pocket square unsettled him.
Shane noticed Oliver staring at his jacket with what appeared to be more consideration than a mere jacket deserved. She assumed he just realized she'd taken his pocket square. She wasn't sure what compelled her to take it, probably just another way to ruffle his feathers. Plus it wasn't the first time she'd availed herself to his things and it wouldn't be the last.
"Oliver?" she called. His head snapped in her direction, blue eyes somewhat stormy. "You ok?" He seemed more distressed than she'd expected.
"Yes, of course," he shook off the rest of his reverie. His smile was a little tight but genuine. "Where are we?" he requested a progress report on their current letter.
Oliver pushed the pocket square incident to the back of his mind until he watched Shane reach for his favorite umbrella at the end of the day.
"I, uh, I think that's mine," he stated. Shane tilted her head and smiled.
"I know. You don't mind if I borrow it, do you?" she asked innocently. Oliver's brow furrowed. Of course he didn't care if she borrowed his things. At least he thought he didn't, which was why the prickle of anxiety he felt as she tucked his umbrella under his arm gave him pause. He probed his mind a for a moment, searching for a source, but came up empty.
"No, of course not," he replied finally, standing from his desk to help her into her jacket. "Am I still picking you up for dinner at seven?"
"It's been a long day. Do you mind if we just stay in and cook?" she countered. As much as she enjoyed going out with Oliver, it seemed something was on his mind and she was never going to figure out what it was in public.
"I think you mean, do I mind coming over to cook for you?" he chuckled. Shane shrugged. She never claimed to be a chef. "I can do that. I will see you at seven," Oliver accepted, pressing a discrete kiss to her cheek and letting her take her leave.
Oliver hummed to himself as he made his way up Shane's walk, groceries in hand. Warmth filled him as he took in the sight of her curled up on her porch swing, reading. It took him an extra beat to realize she was reading a bible. His bible.
His heart sized, overcome with the clarity he was lacking earlier. As he stood there on her porch where he'd discovered she'd taken his favorite letter opener the night she quit the DLO for the second time and where Steve swept her off for three long months to save the world just after she'd confiscated his grandfather's pen, the source of his anxiety came to light. Every time Shane took something from him, she left. Now she had his pocket square, his umbrella, and most importantly, his heart.
"Oliver?" Shane tried to get the man's attention. He'd stalled at the top of the porch steps and went deathly pale. "Oliver?" she repeated.
Shane's voice invaded his thoughts. He flinched away from the idea of her leaving. "Is that my bible?" he asked dumbly.
"It is. I'm sorry, I borrowed it the last time I was at your house. I found it on the bookshelf so I figured it wasn't the one you were currently using. I hope that's ok, I know I probably should have asked," she admitted. While her faith was broadening, she wasn't quite ready to simply pick up a bible. What drew her to this copy was Oliver's annotations in the margins. His words made the words on the page make sense to her. However, since the color had yet to return to his face, she feared she made a misstep. "Are you ok?"
Oliver glanced everywhere but at her. He set the bag down on the porch wall and clasped his hands behind his back. "Are you leaving?" he asked curtly.
"Not that I know of. Where would I be going?" Shane asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"No Shane, are you," Oliver cleared his throat. "Leaving?"
Her eyes widened. "Oliver, no! What on earth gave you that idea?" she gasped.
"You took my pocket square, my umbrella, and my bible," he answered like that made all the sense in the world.
Shane closed the bible in her lap and set it on the swing next to her. She liked to believe she was becoming fluent in the way Oliver talked circles around what he truly wanted to say, but this one was new. "I'm not sure I follow," she said softly.
"Historically, every time you've taken something from me, you've left. Or at least intended to," he bounced on his heels like he did every time his emotions were high. "When you tried to quit after Holly's return, you took my letter opener and when Mr. Merrick came to collect you, you kept my grandfather's pen. Now, you have so many of my things, my heart included that I find myself a bit anxious," he admitted, dropping his gaze from her and swallowing thickly.
"Oh, Oliver," Shane sighed. She let her eyes fall closed for a moment as her mind ricocheted across her memories to the moments in question. At the time, she'd only taken the items in an attempt to have a piece of him. When she'd taken the letter opener, he was still married, still waiting for Holly to make a decision about his fate. Shane didn't think she stood a chance of Oliver ever returning the feelings she had for him even then. But she never wanted to forget him, so when she tried to leave she took a memento. The pen was a different story entirely. She fully intended to give it back at the end of the night, slide it back into his jacket pocket after a goodnight kiss, but they never got that far. Steve was waiting and suddenly she was packing a bag. The pen became an anchor, tethering her to Oliver despite the ocean between them. "Have a seat," she urged. When he obliged, she reached out to cup his face, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. "I am not going anywhere without you, ever again. I promise," she stated adamantly, her eyes searching his. "And to be clear, I only ever take your things to feel closer to you, not further away. I like having a piece of you with me," she grinned. A small smile played at Oliver's lips. He lifted her hand on his cheek and kissed her knuckles just above her engagement ring.
"I hadn't considered that," he admitted. "But I suppose that's the reason I gave you this," he realized, running his thumb over the antique ring.
"Exactly," Shane nodded enthusiastically. "And you best get used to me taking your things, you're in for a lifetime of it," she added with a laugh.
Oliver laughed too. He'd always been so particular about his things. But for a long time, all he had were things. Then he met Shane and he realized that there was little point to having things if you had no one to share them with.
"What's mine is yours," he decided.
"Heart included?" she checked, despite already knowing the answer.
"Heart included," he confirmed. In fact, she's had his heart longer than he cared to admit. With that thought, he leaned back against the swing and tucked her into his side.