A/N: I own nothing, this was just a sort of adorable idea I had one day and have finally gotten around to finishing it. Hope I didn't drag it out too long, wasn't entirely sure where to end it heh. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!
Still half asleep and mostly on his stomach, Oliver Queen stretched out his left arm across the bed, entirely expecting there to be a petite blond to draw in closer - his wife, of six months now, which still drew a dopy smile to his lips. His smile froze as his arm only encountered cold, empty sheets. There was no petite blonde wife lying beside him. This was not right. Eyes snapping open, he lifted his head and called out, voice still rough from sleep,
"'Licity?"
He held very still and strained his ears, but heard nothing. Placing his palm flat against the sheets, he shook off the remaining threads of sleep still pulling at him and started to get up, his mind racing with a thousand different scenarios as to why she would be missing from their bed long enough for the sheets to grow cold and not a sound to be heard. None of those scenarios were terribly good, either. Clad only in a pair of sweatpants, Oliver first padded over to the en suite even though the door was cracked open and it was dark.
"Felicity," Oliver spoke her name as he opened the door wider, but there was no response and it quickly became clear there was no one in the bathroom.
His mind had the bad habit of automatically jumping to the worst conclusions and he couldn't stop it now. She had seemed fine last night, but what if something had occured to her in the night and she'd left? Or what if an enemy had taken her right out from under him?
No. She would've fought, and he would've certainly awoken. Whatever happened, it was voluntary. Oliver stood and clenched his fist for a moment, then relaxed as he considered...maybe she'd gone to get a drink or late night snack and had fallen asleep in the living room. It'd never happened before, but it was a reasonable thought. Quickly, he turned and headed downstairs, stopping at the end of the couch and letting out a huff through his nose. She was not on the couch, and he could see from here she wasn't in the kitchen.
He was really starting to get worried now, because this had never happened before, and where the heck is she?!
"Felicity? Where are you?" He called out slowly, just short of yelling because the silent night air carried his words well enough. He stood stock still and listened, listening for any...
A sudden, soft knock sounded from the guest bedroom, followed quickly by a second, just as soft. Oliver pivoted on his heel and was soon pushing the door open, his body coiled and ready to spring in the event they were under attack. Because why would she choose to knock rather than simply say, 'in here'? If it even was her knocking; unless she'd been tied up somehow and gagged or something, or-
All the fight and anxiousness melted out of him, however, upon seeing Felicity sitting on the floor, hands and arms free (no restraints anywhere, so why'd she not spoken?), knees drawn up to her chest, back resting against the side of the bed. The knuckles of her left hand were still resting against the wooden nightstand she'd knocked against, an electronic thermometer that he recognized from their medicine cabinet dangling from her right hand. She had her head angled down and away from him. He was on his knees next to her in a second.
"Felicity? What's wrong?" He asked softly, taking her hands in his. She moaned and tried to turn away from him, though she did offer up the thermometer for his inspection. Brows drawing together in confusion, he took it and turned it on so it would show the last recorded temperature. 101.2. Ouch. Perhaps she didn't want to talk overly much if it was hurting her to do so; she had to be in some kind of pain for a temperature like that. He grimaced and looked up at her in sympathy, but still looked confused. If she was indeed feeling so horrible, why had she ventured all the way down here to do..what, exactly?
"Felicity. This doesn't explain what you're doing in the guest bedroom." He whispered, leaning closer. It looked for all the world as if she was trying to scoot back, away from him. His frown deepened; what was wrong with her? She usually sought him out when she wasn't feeling well, not tried to hide. If he was honest, her scooting back like that had hurt a little bit. She scrunched up her nose and finally looked at him, her expression indignant.
"I'm sick." She said, as if that explained it all. It really didn't. Though her sick, stuffy nosed voice was kinda cute.
"And?" Oliver inquired, raising an eyebrow. Felicity huffed in frustration and finally explained herself.
"And vigilantes don't get sick days, so go, before you catch it!" She sniffled, waving her hands at him and when he didn't move, she gave his knee a nudge. Her answer and actions actually surprised a laugh from him, causing her to pause and stare at him as if he'd lost his mind.
"I'm not afriad of some germs, Felicity. Now come back to bed, and I'll wet a washcloth for you." He said, holding out his hand to help her up as he stood. She remained where she was, unmoving and just staring up at him with her mouth slightly open.
"No, you don't get it - not just 'some' germs, but with this sudden of an onset it's probably the flu, and you really can't afford to get that...should prob'ly go to the Diggle's for a few days..." she muttered, grimacing as she shifted and held her stomach. Oliver blinked at her.
"I must not have heard correctly, because for a moment there I really thought I heard my wife suggest I should go stay at another couple's house while she is ill instead of staying here and looking after her." Oliver deadpanned, holding her gaze and hoping she could read in his eyes how exactly that plan was Never Going To Happen. He paused, then added, "Besides, I'm probably already infected, so wouldn't that run the risk of me spreading it to them?" He questioned her logic with another raised eyebrow.
Felicity sniffled and then conceded. "You're right, you should stay here." Oliver was about to open his mouth and make a quip about being glad his wife was letting him stay in their home, when she opened her mouth again. "But we should stay in separate rooms. You can't get sick." Felicity stated, crossing her arms over her stomach with a very detirmined expression set in her face and eyes. Oliver sighed and dropped down next to her again.
"How am I supposed to take care of you if we're in separate rooms?" Oliver asked, reaching out a hand to brush back some blonde tresses that had fallen over her face. He'd be darned if he didn't actually growl in annoyance when she shrunk away from him yet again.
"You ca-"
Ok, he'd had enough of this.
Oliver took hold of her by the shoulders so she couldn't escape and leaned forward to kiss her soundly on the lips. She had let out a little squeak as he descended but otherwise her struggles were quite half-hearted. Leaning back only about an inch, he grinned down at her.
"There. Now, in case that wasn't clear enough, I've already got," he stressed this word as he held her gaze captive with his own, "your germs. So, please, let me take care of you?" Felicity frowned up at him.
"I could've had sick on my face and you still kissed me like that? Oliver, that could've been very nasty." She whispered, entirely ignoring his question but at least she wasn't trying to squirm away anymore. He simply lowered his head a fraction and raised both eyebrows as he continued to stare at her. He saw in her fever-glazed eyes the exact moment she finally resigned to allowing him in, and outwardly she let out a sigh and dropped her head to his chest.
"I'm so glad, really wasn't looking forward to being alone...still don't want you getting sick..." Felicity murmured, closing her eyes. Then she started to poke at his chest repeatedly as she mumbled, "So you'd better promise to take good care of yerself, mister...or I'll sic Thea on you." Oliver sighed but had a small smile tugging at his lips as he grabbed her hand away from his chest and then lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style.
"I'll consider myself warned." Oliver murmured as he carried her out of the room. Felicity let out a groan and turned more into his chest, her stomach rolling and her head pounding at the sudden movements. She was glad he was here, though, despite all her stubborn resistance. And he well knew this too. As he headed back out to the living room in order to head back up to their room, she suddenly stopped him by gently slapping at his chest.
"Oliver...Oliver, I'm..." before she knew it there was a large plastic tuber ware container being held in front of her, and then she was grabbing it and emptying her stomach contents into it. It was several minutes later, when she finished, that she began to realize Oliver was still right behind her - if fact, she was kneeling between his legs, facing away from him, while he had one arm around her chest and collarbone to keep her upright, and the other was holding back her hair. Even after she'd tried to push him away so many times in the past half hour or however long it'd been, he was still right there when she needed him. How she loved this man. She let out a small cry as she turned and curled herself into him. He set the container on the floor and swept her back up into his arms as carried her back to their room.
She wasn't aware of much until she felt the cool relief of a wet cloth being pressed to her forehead. Felicity let out a sigh and opened her eyes to see Oliver hovering above her. Presumably, it was their bed she was now laid out on. He is smiling when he reaches out to cup her cheek in one hand.
"I'll be right back, just gonna go take care of a couple things downstairs." He spoke softly as his thumb glided over the skin directly below her eye. As he started to withdraw, she reached out to quickly grab onto his wrist. He looked down at her with a raised brow, lips pressed tightly together, entirely expecting another fight.
"May have," she started very softly, wrinkling her nose up in the most adorable of ways, her expression combined with her softly spoken words making him bite down on his lip in order to prevent a laugh from escaping, "...made a bit of a mess, in...the guest bath." Oliver smiled at this, upper teeth flashing as he was still biting down on his bottom lip. He let out a very small laugh and then leaned down to press his lips to her forehead, just under the wet cloth.
"I'll take care of it," he whispered against her skin, then leaned back to look her in the eyes as he continued, "Just rest, now." His thumb gave one last swipe over her cheekbone and then he was standing up, but she wouldn't let go of his wrist. He raised his eyes to meet hers, blue on blue. He found her staring up at him with a watery smile.
"Thank you." She said, ever so softly, and then trailed her fingers down from his wrist to the tips of his fingers until they were no longer touching. And then Oliver sat back down next to her on the bedside. Using one arm to brace himself, he leaned down to kiss the upper part of her nose, just hovering for a moment, and then caught her eye once more as he said,
"No need to thank me. All you need to do, is get to feeling better." He told her, putting emphasis on the last part of the second sentence as he kissed her high on the cheek and then finally backed away. Felicity smiled and closed her eyes, and when he was sure she was actually resting, he left the room.
Some unknown time later, Felicity woke up to a slightly eased throbbing in her head as her eyes opened and she met with the sight of the cleaned plastic container sitting next to her glasses on the nightstand, only just being able to make out the blurry lines into shapes from here. And then she registered the fact of a warm arm wrapped around her, and the hand of that arm was currently playing with the ends of her hair. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, she began to realize. Felicity leaned her head back and met his eyes over the side of his book.
"You didn't have to stay," Felicity murmured, clearing her throat. "I'm sure there are more interesting things going on." Oliver lowered the book he was holding with his other hand and stared at her, the hand in her hair temporarily pausing.
"I told them emergencies only." Oliver whispered, twisting over her a bit to plant another kiss on her forehead.
"Nice t'know you've still got some sense." Felicity murmured, shifting so she could snuggle deeper into his chest. Which only served to cause a bolt of pain through her skull. Which was kinda worth it when Oliver silently tightened his hold on her at her low moan. "If you get sick, don't blame me." She muttered, then shifted some more to try and get comfortable.
Which only lasted for all of about two minutes, because really? Her man was a furnace, which she usually appreciated, but not at times like now when her own body was attempting the whole burn-you-from-the-inside thing. She kicked off the covers to see if that would work, and though the cool air felt good for about a second, her body was still far too close to his. Which was something she never, ever, ever thought she would ever say. Sighing, she unwound his arm and moved back a little but did not let go of his arm. He looked over at her with a raised brow, and she wondered how much reading he was actually getting done.
"Too warm." She commented, blinking up at him as she squeezed his arm. The too warm thing is probably what had woken her to begin with, and she began to wonder whether or not she'd been onto something in trying to kick him out. But for those moments when she got too cold, he'd sure be nice to snuggle up against. Oliver flashed her a smile as he moved his hand to take both of hers in his.
"You want to try and drink something? I made some chicken soup, too, while you were resting. I can heat up some of it whenever you think your stomach can handle that." Oliver told her, keeping his voice soft.
"Drink?" Felicity requested after a moment, smiling shyly. She really didn't think her stomach could handle anything substantial-ish at the moment, so drink it was. Smiling in return, Oliver nodded, squeezed her hands once then started to withdraw from the bed.
He took his time traveling from their room to the kitchen, because uh...well it was afternoon now, and after really not having done much of anything all day, he was far too tired. His body was feeling unusually achy and...of course, as always, Felicity had been right. He was more than likely coming down with something. Grabbing two lemonlime sodas and a straw for each, he headed back up the stairs, thankful he'd made enough soup to last a couple days. Dig and the others would have to take care of Star City for a few days, but he knew that they were more than capable.
