A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed! I'm totally blown away by the response to this story and all of your wonderful feedback definitely motivates me to write faster :-)
Felicity's not sure how long she and Oliver stand there like that, clutching each other in the empty hallway of the Starling City Police Department, but eventually she starts feeling slightly claustrophobic and she pulls away a little reluctantly. Her breath is still coming in short stuttering sobs, and she wipes the tears from her face and takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to get it together.
"Where's Mia?" Oliver asks. His voice comes out rough and shaky, and he clears his throat, blinking hard.
"She's with Child Protective Services," Felicity tells him, smoothing a still-trembling hand over the top of her ponytail. "I guess there was a neighbor babysitting her, and after…" she swallows hard and takes another deep breath, staring at Oliver's chest and forcing herself to get the words out, not to break. "The police sent CPS over to get her. Officer Ruiz said we should be able to see her in the morning, but I don't know if that means we can take her home or we can just visit her, but she can't stay there, Oliver. She's probably terrified right now, and she should be with people who care about her, not a bunch of social workers, and I don't know what to do…"
"Hey," Oliver cuts her off, reaching out and putting his hands on her gently shoulders.
It's enough to steady her, and she takes another breath before looking up at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, and it's such a bizarre sight, Oliver Queen crying and exhausted and trying to take care of her. Maybe Laurel and Tommy weren't so wrong about him after all.
"It's okay," he tells her, talking slow and calm. "I'm going to make a couple of phone calls, okay? I want you to wait right here for me while I try to figure out what's going on with Mia, all right?"
"Okay," Felicity agrees, mostly because she doesn't know what else she can do. It's like she's not thinking clearly; all of this still feels like some kind of terrible dream, horrifying and unreal. "Just...I don't want her to have to spend the night with strangers."
"I don't either," Oliver assures her. He slides one arm around her shoulders and Felicity leans into him without quite meaning to. It's just that he's solid and warm and familiar and she feels strangely safe with him beside her. He directs her to a little bank of chairs in the hallway, and she sits while he takes a few steps down the hall.
Felicity watches as he pulls out his phone and holds it up to his ear. She has no idea who he's calling, but he starts talking immediately. Felicity's too far away to hear any of the conversation no matter how much she tries, which is incredibly frustrating. She's not used to just sitting around and letting other people do things. She gets antsy after just a couple of minutes, so she pulls out her phone, deciding that if Oliver can take action, then so can she. It can't be that hard to hack her way into the city's network, and from there it should be a piece of cake to get into CPS and find Mia's file.
Before too long, she gets lost in her search - hacking by phone always makes things a little more complicated - but she manages to get through the security systems for Social Services and into the CPS database. Once she manages that, she has to navigate her way through the labyrinthine system of city bureaucracy, which basically means that everything is about ten times more difficult to locate than it should be. But at least it gives her something to do, something to focus on besides the nightmare of everything that's happened tonight.
"Felicity," Oliver says, and Felicity starts, jumping a little in her seat, blinking up at him. He looks more tired than she's ever seen him, red-rimmed eyes and dark circles under his eyes like bruises.
"Mia was brought to the Starling City CPS office on Halstrom and Branch by SCPD officers," Felicity tells him, reading off the intake form she's got on her phone. "She arrived at 12:02 a.m. and is scheduled to meet with social workers tomorrow – or today, I guess – at 10:00 a.m. Her next of kin are listed as Quentin and Dinah Lance, but there's an asterisk by their names in the file, which means that they're not her designated guardians. That must be a mistake since I can't imagine Laurel and Tommy choosing anyone else, but we can work that out later. As far as I can tell…"
"Felicity," Oliver interrupts, and Felicity snaps her head up to look at him again. He's watching her with this curious almost-smile, his mouth curled up at the corners. "Mia's on her way."
"She's on her way?" Felicity repeats. "How? What? How?"
Oliver's almost-smile turns into a full smile, and a little bit of the tightness in Felicity's chest eases. "I called my father, who called his lawyer, who called Social Services. We'll be able to take Mia home tonight."
Felicity doesn't even think about it when she launches herself out of her chair, throwing her arms around Oliver and hugging him. He makes a little noise of surprise, but then he hugs her back, pressing his face against the curve of her neck, his breath puffing hot against her skin.
Felicity's dozing off by the time CPS shows up, her elbow pressed against the rough wooden armrest of the waiting room chairs and her head leaning on Oliver's shoulder.
But then he shrugs to get her attention, and when Felicity looks up, two women are walking towards them, one of them a forty-something with short blond hair in a chic suit, and the other a frazzled looking middle-aged woman with dark circles under her eyes. The frazzled woman is holding Mia in one arm and an empty baby car seat in the other.
Mia looks sleepy and dazed and when she sees Felicity and Oliver, she blinks and then suddenly she's crying, these desperate, hysterical sobs.
"Hey," Felicity says, reaching for her. The tired-looking woman hands her over and Mia clings to Felicity's side, snuffling wetly against her shoulder. "Hey, baby, you're okay," Felicity tells her, holding her close and pressing a kiss to the crown of Mia's head, inhaling her sweet, familiar baby-scent. "We're here, we've got you."
"Jean," Oliver says, stepping forward to shake the blond woman's hand. "Thank you for your help with this."
"Of course," the woman – Jean – says. "I've called George Bennett – Tommy and Laurel's attorney – and he'd like to meet with you both tomorrow at noon to discuss custody of Mia as well as some particulars of Tommy and Laurel's estate, if that's all right?"
Oliver looks over at Felicity with his eyebrows raised, and she nods, holding Mia to her tight. "That would be fine," he says.
"I'll let him know," Jean says with a nod, before gesturing towards the woman who brought in Mia. "Now, there are a few forms you'll need to sign before we can have Mia's custody transferred to you."
The woman from Social Services puts down the car seat and pulls a folded packet of stapled-together papers from her bag, smoothing them out as best she can.
"I'll need both of your signatures," she says tiredly, passing the papers to Oliver and fumbling in her bag again until she pulls out a pen. "You'll be permitted to take the child with you tonight, during which time you'll both be assigned as her temporary legal guardians. It would be best for her if you could take her to her own home, or at least a familiar place, something to disrupt her routine as little as possible. Once we have a better understanding of the will and the estate and her parents' wishes, a court date will be set to determine permanent guardianship."
"Okay," Felicity agrees immediately. "Laurel gave me a spare key, so we can bring Mia to her own house, keep everything as familiar as possible." She looks over at Oliver for confirmation, and he nods, looking almost as relieved as she feels. "Just tell us where we need to sign."
The woman points to a few lines on the bottom of each page, watching as Oliver and Felicity both sign their names. When they're done, the woman re-folds the papers and drops them back in the bag with a sigh. "Someone from my office will contact you about setting a court date," she tells them, and then she turns away and walks back down the hall.
"That's it?" Felicity asks, looking at Oliver then at Jean. "We can take her home now?"
"You can take her home now," Jean confirms, and Felicity's so grateful she could hug her.
Getting temporary legal custody of Mia was frighteningly easy, but getting her safely into the car is a completely different story.
"This is your car?" Oliver asks when Felicity stops in front of her Mini, putting the empty car seat down so she can use her non-Mia holding hand to find her keys. It's finally stopped raining, the air heavy with the smell of ozone and wet asphalt, and Mia's asleep in arms, a warm, familiar weight against her side.
"Yep," Felicity says, and when she looks over at Oliver, he's staring at the car with a slightly skeptical expression. She presses the button on the fob, the doors unlocking with a soft beep. "What?"
Oliver shakes his head, blowing out a heavy sigh and looking slightly longingly at his motorcycle parked up near the edge of the building. "Nothing," he says. "Let's get Mia's car seat in the back."
Okay, so it turns out that getting a baby seat buckled into a car correctly is a lot harder than it sounds. Oliver struggles with it for a while, Felicity holding a sleeping Mia while Oliver wedges himself into her backseat, fumbling with the seat and letting out the occasional curse.
"Let me try," Felicity finally tells him, and he must be frustrated because he doesn't even argue with her, just steps back and holds out his hands for Mia. Felicity passes her over, trying not to smirk as she does. She must not pull it off because Oliver glares at her as he takes Mia, the baby making a sleepy noise of protest as she gets handed over.
Felicity's sure she'll be able to get the baby seat strapped into the car, no problem, but it's apparently impossible. She tries for a good fifteen minutes, managing to get one side strapped in fine only to find the other side is way too loose. Finally, she just gives up.
"Augh." Felicity throws her hands up in exasperation, standing up and stepping away from the car. "What the hell?"
When she looks over at Oliver, he's smirking at her in that familiar way of his and Mia's woken up, her thumb in her mouth and her cheek pressed against Oliver's shoulder as she watches Felicity sleepily. "Problem?" he asks with faux-innocence and, ugh, he is the worst.
"Maybe if we put Mia in the seat, and we each take a side, it won't be so difficult," Felicity suggests, her voice cracking slightly on the last word. She can feel tears starting to build behind her eyes, that tight knot forming in her throat again. She's just tired and frustrated and this has quite possibly been the longest night of her life.
Oliver must realize she's not in the mood for banter, because he stops smirking pretty much right away, and leans down to put Mia gently into the car seat.
Felicity was right, it's a little easier with both of them working together, but it still takes longer than it probably should for them to get the seat in correctly, making sure it's secure enough so that Mia will be okay in the event anything else terrible happens tonight.
The drive from the station to Laurel and Tommy's house in the suburbs passes in silence, Mia sleeping in the back while Oliver sits awkwardly in the passenger seat, his body scrunched up so that he can actually fit.
Felicity's never actually noticed how big of a guy Oliver is, tall and broad-shouldered. He also smells really nice, like leather and whatever aftershave he wears, something light and sort of woodsy. To be honest, it's a more than a little distracting.
By the time they finally get to the house and get Mia out of her car seat, it's dawn, the sky turning from black to grey to pink, and Felicity is more exhausted than she can ever remember being her life.
Oliver and Felicity bring Mia up to her bedroom, Oliver laying her in her crib while Felicity pulls the curtains closed, blocking out the early morning sun. Thankfully, Mia's sleeping soundly, barely even moving when Oliver puts her down. He stands at the crib, watching her quietly for a couple of seconds, blinking hard.
"We should get some sleep," Felicity says, and Oliver just nods in agreement. Felicity takes the guest room right next to the nursery and Oliver ends up two doors down, both of them shuffling tiredly into the room with just a mumbled goodnight.
Felicity toes off her shoes and then collapses onto the bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. She's as tired as she can ever remember being, and she falls into a deep, dreamless sleep, trying as hard as she can not to think about anything that's happened over the last six hours.
When she wakes up, there's bright, early afternoon sunlight streaming into the room and a pink stuffed bunny pressed against her face, one glassy plastic black eye staring into Felicity's own.
"The lawyer's here," Oliver says from somewhere beside her, and Felicity reaches up to swipe the bunny away from her face. When she does, Mia giggles, and Felicity blinks blearily against the light.
"Huh?" she says blearily, squinting up at Oliver. He's holding Mia in his arms, both of them peering down at Felicity as she tries to get her bearings.
"George Bennett – Laurel and Tommy's lawyer – he's here. He's waiting for us downstairs."
"Ugh," Felicity groans, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She picks up the pink bunny and Mia laughs again, holding out her hands and grabbing for the toy. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"
"I tried," Oliver tells her as Felicity gives Mia the bunny. "You were dead to the world. Besides, I figured you could use the sleep."
"Okay," Felicity says, scrubbing a hand across her face as she yawns hugely. "Okay. I'm awake. I'm up."
She stumbles out of bed, putting on her glasses and trying to will herself to wake up. She's halfway out the door when she feels Oliver tug gently at her ponytail, his fingers sliding through her hair. the feeling makes stomach flips pleasantly, which is completely ridiculous. "What?" she says, a little sharper than she means to.
"You might want to take a quick look in the mirror," he says, smirking what she's come to think of as his trademark Oliver Queen smirk.
"What? Why?" Felicity demands, but even as she says it, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror in the hall and, yikes. Her hair is standing up in about a million directions, her ponytail skewed off to one side. "Oh. Wow."
She reaches up, trying to let out her ponytail, but the elastic gets snagged, tangling in her hair and making her wince as she tries to unsnarl it.
"Here," Oliver says, and then he's setting Mia down at his feet and reaching behind Felicity to help her with her hair. His fingers move deftly as he works the elastic out of her hair, and when his fingertips brush hers, Felicity freezes, her stomach doing that embarrassing flipping thing again.
It's only a couple of seconds before he manages to get the hair tie out, handing it to Felicity, his fingers warm against the palm of her hand.
"Thanks," she says, but her voice comes out a little strange, quiet and breathy and when Oliver raises his eyebrow at her, Felicity feels herself blush, her cheeks burning. He's fingers are still resting against her palm.
"No problem," he says, his gaze flicking down to her mouth. Oliver takes a step closer to her, and Felicity's stomach suddenly feels like it's full of butterflies.
He's still looking at her mouth, and Felicity takes a step toward him, moving closer to him like she can't help it, her brain still feeling a little fuzzy from sleep. She bites her lip, watching him watch her, her heart beating way too fast in her chest as he moves another step closer, and she has no idea what she's doing, but she can't seem to stop.
Or at least, she can't until Mia grabs onto the leg of her pants, pulling herself up between them.
Felicity blinks, looking away from Oliver and down at Mia. She's got one hand on Felicity's knee, the other on Oliver's shin, peering up at the two of them curiously.
"Hi," Mia says, simple and direct, and Felicity feels a bubble of laughter building inside of her, slightly hysterical. What the hell is she doing?
"Hi, baby," Felicity says, and when she looks back up at Oliver, he's shifted his focus down to Mia, smiling as he reaches down to pick her up again.
"Hey, kid," he says, settling her on his hip and if the sight of Oliver with an adorable baby settled easily on his hip makes her stomach start buzzing again, well, she's just very tired and it's been a very long day.
"Ready?" he says, glancing back at Felicity and she nods, reaching up to pull her hair back into a ponytail, making sure it's smooth and straight, focusing all her attention on that.
She follows Oliver down the stairs, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and trying not to think too much about that moment of weirdness that just happened between them.
When they get downstairs, there's a middle-aged man in a suit sitting at the table in the formal dining room, a briefcase open in front of him. "Miss Smoak," he says, getting to his feet and reaching out to shake her hand. "I'm George Bennett, Tommy and Laurel's attorney."
"Mr. Bennett," Felicity says, shaking his hand and sitting down across the table from him. Oliver sits beside her, holding Mia in his lap. She's sucking on the ear of the stuffed bunny, humming happily to herself. "Hi. Sorry I'm late."
"Not at all," he says easily, pulling out a stack of papers from his briefcase. "I'm sure you had a rather difficult night. As you know, I spoke to Ms. Loring last night, and she filled me in on the situation."
"Ms. Loring?" Felicity says, looking at Oliver, confused.
"Jean," he says by way of explanation, and Felicity nods, trying to stifle a yawn. She still feels a little out of sorts, not quite awake.
"The good news is that Tommy and Laurel did leave a will, with rather specific instructions for both Mia and their estate," Bennett says, sliding the stack of papers over to them. "As I'm sure you're aware, you've both been named as Mia's legal guardians. The bulk of their estate – including this house – will go to her, of course, with the majority of it being held in trust until her 18th birthday. As her guardians, you will be in charge of this trust, which should be used for her education as well as –"
"Wait," Felicity interrupts, trying to process all of this. When she glances over at Oliver, he looks just as confused as she feels. "What do you mean, we're Mia's legal guardians? That's not...I mean, that can't...I mean...what?"
"You and Mr. Queen are listed as Mia's guardians in the event that anything happened to Tommy and Laurel," Bennett says, raising his eyebrows and glancing between the two of them. 'Were you not aware of this?"
"No," Oliver says immediately, pulling the papers closer to him and flipping through them. Mia slaps her hand against them, and Oliver slides them out of reach, managing to get them over to Felicity with minimal baby spit damage. "We had no idea."
"Yeah, no," she says, taking the papers from Oliver. Mia reaches for them again, but Felicity's faster, and Mia makes an outraged noise of protest, slapping the table again. Oliver stands up, bouncing her softly as he brings her over to the playpen that's set up in the corner. "I had no idea," Felicity continues. "I just, I thought Laurel's parents would take Mia. I didn't think...are you sure?"
"Quite sure," Bennett says. "They came to my office a few months ago to update their will, which is when you were both listed as Mia's guardians. Laurel and Tommy had mentioned you'd agreed to be her godparents, so I just assumed…" he trails off, looking at them both expectantly.
"Yeah, we're her godparents." Oliver sets Mia down in the playpen and she stomps her feet, apparently displeased at the thought of being left out of the action.
When no one comes to her rescue, she throws her stuffed bunny in protest, wailing when the toy lands a good five feet outside the playpen. She starts sobbing immediately, and Oliver turns around to pick up the bunny, handing it back to Mia. As soon he he does, she throws it again, grabbing onto the edge of the playpen and shaking the rail like she's in prison. Oliver leaves the bunny on the floor and heads back to the table, apparently not in the mood to engage in a battle of wills with a toddler.
"But that doesn't mean we inherit her or whatever," he says, talking louder so he can be heard over Mia's cries. "We're just like the cool uncle and aunt. We spoil her and let her get away with things, we don't suddenly become her parents, right?" He looks desperately over at Felicity as he says this last part, and Felicity presses the heel of her hand against her forehead.
Shit. "Well, actually, this is kind of part of it, too sometimes, I think," Felicity tells him.
"What?" Oliver demands, his voice rising enough that it's almost a shout. In response, Mia's ramps up her volume, working herself into a full-blown tantrum. "You knew about this?"
"No, I didn't know about this," Felicity snaps. "But I've heard of it, godparents taking over if something happens to the parents. Everyone knows that."
"I didn't know that!" Oliver practically explodes, loud enough that Mia suddenly quiets down, staring at him with wide, scared eyes. Across the table, Bennett is busying himself with another stack of papers, studiously ignoring the drama unfolding in front of him.
Felicity doesn't say anything, and in the silence, Oliver sighs, leaning his elbows on the table dragging his hands through his hair. "What are our options here?" he says, and Bennett must realize he's talking to him because he looks up from the table.
"If you and Miss Smoak decide to refuse custody, Mia will be returned to Child Protective Services until she can be placed with a foster family or a suitable guardian can be found."
"And how long would that take?" Felicity asks, keeping her voice level and calm and totally unemotional.
"Unfortunately, that's not something we can know right now," Bennett tells her. "It could be weeks, it could be months. Or, worst case scenario, it could take years."
Years? No way. There's no way Felicity's letting that happen. "What if we found a guardian for her?" she asks, her brain racing through various scenarios, trying to formulate a solution. "Like, what if Laurel's parents want to take custody? Could she stay with us just until then?"
"That could certainly be arranged," Bennett says, looking through the paperwork again with more purpose and writing something down on one of the sheets. "You have a permanent guardianship hearing scheduled for two weeks from Wednesday, so if you and Lances determine that's what you'd like to do, we could use that hearing to begin the process of transferring custody then. But, I do need to warn you that it wouldn't be a guarantee that they'd be approved as guardians. They'll need to undergo a series of screenings and interviews to make sure they'd provide Mia with a stable home environment. You and Mr. Queen will undergo the same process if you decide to keep the child."
"That won't be a problem," Felicity says, relieved. It's not that she doesn't love Mia, because she absolutely and totally does, but she's just not sure she's ready to be a parent. And she's definitely not ready to be a parent with Oliver Queen. Besides, it'll be better for Mia to be with family, right? And, okay, maybe there was a reason Laurel and Tommy picked her and Oliver instead of the Lances, but that was probably just a mistake. "Quentin and Dinah are the most stable people I know. Definitely more stable than the two of us."
"Well, as I said, you'll need to discuss this issue with the Lances, and we can go from there." Bennett puts the papers back into his briefcase, clicking it closed and then getting to his feet. Felicity and Oliver follow suit, both of them shaking his hand. Oliver walks him to the door, and Felicity heads over to where Mia's still clutching the edge of the playpen, watching her with big blue eyes.
"Don't worry, kiddo," Felicity tells her, reaching down to smooth a hand over the top of her head. "We'll figure this out."
"Out?" Mia repeats, holding her arms up.
Felicity smiles and picks her up, freeing Mia from her playpen-prison and watching as she walks her stumbling-baby walk over to where that damn stuffed bunny is still lying face-down on the floor, wondering again what the hell Laurel and Tommy were thinking, leaving their daughter to her and Oliver, thinking that this could be anything other than a disaster.
