Title: Restoration: Missing Scene
Author: Some1FoundMe
Rating: K
Summary: Spoilers for 4X03 "Restoration". A missing scene that I wish we could've seen.
A/N: Disclaimer… I don't own Arrow. As if this is a surprise to anyone. Not that I'd have much to change if I did. My OTP is totally happy right now so … yeah, I'm just gonna be over here smiling like an idiot.
Restoration: Missing Scene
She finds him sprawled out on the sofa, one arm tossed across his eyes, the other across his chest. His breathing is slow and even but she knows as she approaches him that he is awake, that he is aware of her presence. She steps up to the arm of the sofa where he rests his head and cards her fingers through his still-damp hair.
"Hmm."
She smiles, "Hi."
His arm comes down and his blue eyes are dark as he looks up at her. He shifts, making space for her, and she joins him easily. She stretches out along the length of his hard body.
"Tired?" she murmurs.
She traces an idle pattern over his t-shirt covered chest.
"Definitely. You had a pretty interesting day. How do you feel?"
She shrugs.
"Surprisingly, I'm doing okay. I mean, Curtis got hurt. Not good. But the new base of operations is pretty much intact and I didn't shoot myself in the foot or anything, so that's a plus, right?"
He chuckles softly, the action jostling her as his fingers glide across the exposed skin of her shoulder.
"I'd say so."
For a long moment they let the silence envelope them. The balcony door is open and cool autumn air rolls across the gleaming marble floors. Felicity watches the flames dance in the fireplace.
"I'm glad John seems to be coming around."
She nods, "Me, too. You need him, Oliver. The team needs him, yes, but you need him."
He doesn't argue with her. She knows that she's right and apparently so does he. He wouldn't be the man that he is if not for John Diggle. They are more than friends now, they are brothers. And Felicity knows that, no matter how pissed off they are at one another, that isn't going to change.
"I need you, too, you know."
She sets her chin in the center of his chest and smiles up at him.
"I know."
"I was worried about you. Today. When John and I came back," he swallows hard, closing his eyes briefly, "There were bullet holes, Felicity."
She sighs and brushes her fingers along the stubble on his jaw.
"I'm okay. I was the one shooting, remember? He didn't hurt me."
She knows that he wants to protect her, that the need to do so is fierce inside of him. It is one of the many things that kept them apart for so long. He had believed – and probably still did to an extent – that he had to protect her, both from his enemies and from himself. But she is aware that he is trying to let go of the desire to keep her locked away in a tower somewhere. He trusts her to stay safe, to know when to fight and when to flee. He has to. Because as much as he wants to be with her every minute of every day, they both know that that isn't possible.
"Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if you or Digg, you know, trained me or something. I did sort of close my eyes while I was shooting and, man! I didn't realize how loud machine guns were!"
Oliver groans, turning his face into his shoulder, and hauls her even closer.
"Stop. Please, stop. I don't want to know anymore. I'll train you. We'll go to the shooting range tomorrow. Hell, we'll build one of our own. I don't care. Just please, don't tell me anymore."
She laughs and shifts and then she's on top of him, straddling his hips and leaning over to kiss the worry from his mind.
