.
"And this… This is your room," Felicity smiles, opening the door to relatively spacious room, themed and decorated with cars, trophies and race stripes - it had been Thea's idea - and for a minute (or two) she thought it might be a little over the top, he was twelve after all, but once a Queen made up their mind there was really no changing it.
"Thanks," he mutters, throwing his duffel bag on the floor and taking a look around. Finally his eyes land back on Felicity and Oliver, still in the doorway, his jaw tightening.
"Do you like it?" Felicity offers an easy smile, brushing a loose strand from her face nervously, "We could take some of this stuff down if you want, it was Oliver's sister's idea but I could understand if you -"
"Do you want me to call you mom now or something?" He snaps, eyes narrowed as he cuts her off. His words are deliberate; he wants them to know he's not here to make friends; he's here to sit out his time until they get tired of him and move on to their next exciting new little project.
"Roy," Oliver warns lightly, and Felicity shakes her head, putting a hand on his chest to keep him from saying any more.
"No, it's fine." She bites down on the inside of her cheek for a second, before she adds, "It's fine. We'll just let you settle in and you can just come out for dinner anytime you want, okay?"
He only grunts in response, putting his earphones on which Felicity takes as their cue to closes the door behind them before she makes a beeline for their own bedroom.
"Felicity," Oliver sighs, eyes sympathetic (part of him wonders what she had expected, part of him is angry he agreed to this ordeal to begin with, part of him just really wants to make her feel okay again) but before he can reach out to comfort her, she slams the door of their bedroom in his face. After a knock and no obvious protest, he opens the door, finding her facedown on their bed.
"Felicity," he tries again, softly, as he sits down next to her body, carefully rubbing his hand over her back. He's not really good with pep talks, or words in general. Unless he's yelling. Then it just comes to him like hot flashes. This doesn't seem like a good time to yell, though. "He… This is all new for him."
She doesn't respond, shaking her head slightly. "It's me, isn't it? I'm too," she pauses, and he hears a small whimper, "I'm too Felicity. I'm too much, I'm too—me."
He chuckles lowly and he hears a small huff in response, "That's not it, believe me." He brushes his hand over her hair carefully, taking a deep breath, "When I… when I came back from the island I didn't want to speak to anyone either. I felt like nobody would understand, they just thought they did. They thought they knew what I'd been through and it was hard, but I managed. Barely. And I was an adult. He's.. He's twelve. He—he needs some time."
She sniffs, finally sitting up, and reaching up to wipe a few stray tears from her cheeks. (She doesn't even know why she's crying—she's never been a crier, especially not about something so small and stupid. He's been with them for a total of three hours. Thank God she is not alone in this. She would've had one of those Britney Spears breakdowns 2 hours and 45 minutes ago.) Sheepishly she reaches for his hand, quietly informing him that, "I love you, you know?"
"And I love you," he grins that special grin he only saves for her, a little lighter he adds, "And so will Roy. It's just a matter of time. I promise. Everyone does."
She snorts, adjusting her glasses, "Can you show me the receipts of that?"
"Well, there's me," he offers, after a beat or two, pushing her hand playfully, "I'm really the best exhibit out there that's there's no escaping Felicity Smoak."
"Ha, like you even tried to escape."
.
"We're getting a kitten," Felicity informs him. "Roy is sad. I get that. I'd be sad too if my both of my parents bailed on me and some loony lady and broody guy forced me to live with them. So we're getting a kitten and he will love the kitten and then he will finally love me."
"Bribe? Really?" Oliver grunts as he dodges one of Diggle's moves, "You want to go there?"
Felicity sighs almost dramatically, "It's been three months and I'm pretty sure he hates us both."
"Oliver I get, but how can he hate you?" Diggle smirks teasingly, throwing another punch Oliver's way, who blocks it, sending him a look, dryly, "Ha-ha."
Sara springs in from her position in front of the punching bag, finally, multitasking as always, "I'm pretty sure," punch, "Laurel was," grunt, "joking when she," highkick, "suggested it."
"And drunk," Felicity adds, twirling in her throne (which was actually just her desk chair but a girl can dream), fingers pressed together in front of her face like a pyramid, "But also right."
"And who's going to take care of this said kitten? Do I need to remind you we're already working two full time jobs and fostering a kid that's hellbound on not making it easy either?"
"Ah, come on Oliver, don't be such a party pooper," Sara snorts half-sarcastic, taking of her protective gloves, not even a little out of breath and reminding Felicity she should really try and use that elliptical at home one time, soon, probably.
"Yes, Oliver, don't be such a party pooper," Felicity beams excitedly, voice teasing. "Cats are practically the most independ creatures in the world. We won't even have to walk it everyday and it does this cute, fluffy thing where it purrs and pets your leg with it's head."
"Is this kitten for Roy or you?" Diggle chuckles before taking a swig of water, offering Oliver a second bottle.
"Both. Mostly Roy, but also for me, you know, just in case if Roy should reject the cute, fluffy kitten that does the thing in favor of a life dedicated to criminality and not having any Felicity in it. Literally. Like my name means intense happiness and isn't a cute fluffy kittens the very definition of that?"
Oliver open his mouth and is about to respond but all it takes is one fiery look from one Felicity Smoak to silence him.
It would take a whole kind of other look to convince Oliver the creature Felicity's currently petting at the pet store's a feline. "I thought you said we were getting a cat."
"Look at him," she gushes, looking up at Oliver as the dog (he's pretty damn sure it's a dog, one that will need to be walked) rubs his nose against Felicity's leg, tail wagging excitingly. "This is what clouds must taste like, this is what's at the end of rainbows, this is happiness, this is—everything. He's so cute."
"Didn't you say kittens were the very definition of intense happiness?"
She raises her eyebrows, looking at him over the rim of her glasses, lips pursed in disdain, "Didn't you say your name was Al Sahim, heir of the demon, and Oliver Queen was dead?" Aaaaaand he guesses she's never going to let that one go.
Oliver has to admit the golden retriever has it's charm. Literally has to because if he doesn't, Felicity might break-up with him, burn his clothes and break all contact. That's how serious she is about this puppy. And okay, at least dogs are known to be loyal creatures and they could definitely use more of that in their lives.
And it's an entirely different kind of look on Roy's face when they bring it home; eyes narrowed in suspicion. Like the dog is their way of telling him he should start looking for somewhere else to live.
"What's that?"
"A huge, hairy spider," Oliver deadpans, Felicity stepping down on his foot harshly (in her opinion; in his he wanted to give her some more training in case someone attacked her and she needed to inflict actual pain). That was not an image she needed swirling around in her head.
"It's yours," Felicity says confidently, holding out the puppy, before finally just bringing it so close he has no options but to take it from her. Roy glances over at the animal with uncertainty, holding it like you would hold a baby with a dirty diaper. "So what are you going to name him?"
There's no doubt on his face or in his voice when he finally speaks up after a few moments. "Speedy."
.
He's sixteen when he comes to her room early in the morning, Oliver off to a breakfast with his mom and Thea.
"What's this?" She yawns, rubbing some sleep out of her eyes as she sits up, leaning back against the headboard of her bed as she smiles brightly. He sits down next to her, a present in his lap.
"I bought you something," he grunts, avoiding eye contact. She reaches for her glasses on the nightstand before putting her hair in a messy bun, taking a look at the clock, nine a.m. on a sunday. Normally she has to literally kick him out of bed in the weekends.
"I don't know if I'm more surprised about the 'you' part or the 'bought' part," she teases, as he hands her the package, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
She puts it in her lap, rubbing her hands together excitedly, before carefully starting to unwrap it, babbling on as always. Even this early in the morning. "Is this that new pocket sized gummy bear keychain we saw? I know I had a near mental breakdown over that but it was so tiny. Oh, or those chocolates I like. It's probably the chocolates, right? I love them so much, I would literally commit multiple crimes -"
She pauses as Roy stares at her nervously. "Oh," she says lamely, running her fingers over the small arrow shaped necklace on her lap.
"Now I kinda wish I'd bought you the chocolates," he forces out a chuckle, but it's obvious he doesn't think the situation's funny at all.
"No," her voice falters before she firmly repeats, "No, I love it. Thank you."
"I just," his face colors as he stares down at the necklace, as he swallows tightly, "I know you're not my mother, but there isn't really a cool-stranger-that-took-me-in-when-I-was-twelve day, and there's your birthday but that's not the same, because I wanted to - I wanted to thank you. For," he pauses, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he thinks it over, "So much."
Mother's day. It's mother's day and he bought her a present. (She won't blame it anything else but female hormones when tears gather in her eyes.) She leans over and hugs him, tightly. Really tightly. At one point he thinks she won't ever let go.
He laughs, finally, loudly, patting her back awkwardly before she finally lets go of him. Changing the subject he asks, "Is it too obvious? The arrow, I mean? I just saw it in the store and thought of you and.. I don't know." He colors again, voice soft.
He thought of her. The hardcore warm feeling in her chest must indicate she might die any second now. She wishes Oliver was here. Her two boys. She thinks of Speedy, probably still fast asleep in Roy's room, grinning to herself. Suck on that, Oliver. Her plan totally worked. Eventually. But she was right. Which is the important part.
"No, it's so obvious that it's not. It's actually kind of genius," she beams, before making her famous 'o'-face, "Can you put it on for me?" She takes it out the box carefully and hands it to him as she makes sure all of her hair is out of the way. Felicity huffs humorously as Roy struggles with the necklace, "So, did you get Oliver the same necklace?"
"Didn't he tell you?"
"No?" She raises her eyebrows, wiggling them in expectation as he finally succeeds and she shifts back to her original position, fingering the arrow carefully.
"I got him selfmade flechettes - I painted them green. I swear I saw tears."
.