I'm nervous about this because it has a generous serving of angst. And uh, RATINGS BUMP after the train station good-bye scene you'll read below, so to those who get squirmy with the hot and steamy, please feel free to skip that section. I wouldn't keep you long, so I'll just state the same old same old: this work is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine, no copyright infringement intended and please feel free to leave comments/reviews/faves/follows. Who knows? That might speed up my writing the last chapter to this monster. XOXO


Rating: Explicit

Chapter 7

Digg and Lyla were on their way back to their picnic spot to relieve Felicity and Oliver from looking after Baby Sara, when they found the other couple having fun with their daughter. Felicity had volunteered to stay behind and watch their baby while the rest of the group headed down to the Amphitheater when the concert started picking up. Oliver, of course, had chosen to stay with her.

As they crested the hill on which their picnic blanket sat, they found their friends both lying on their backs, with Oliver holding their 8-month old securely in his arms and gliding her up in the air while Felicity tickled her tummy. Sara was squealing and giggling, obviously loving the attention from her aunt and uncle, who themselves were laughing with her.

"Hey! You guys, okay?" Lyla asked as they finally reached the trio.

Oliver settled the baby protectively against his chest, abruptly going on alert upon hearing their approach. His face was awash with relief as he recognized Digg and Lyla.

"Yeah," Felicity answered, sitting up to face them for a bit before bringing her attention back to the baby. "Little Miss Sara Diggle had a lot of fun. Didn't you, baby girl?" She said as she continued to tickle her, but this time on her waist. Sara squealed her delight as she burrowed further into her uncle's chest.

"Looks like it," Digg remarked as he smiled at the picture his friends made.

Sara perked up at the sound of her father's voice and tried to turn around. They were positioned awkwardly so Oliver, cradling her firmly to his chest sat up and turned the baby towards Digg. "Who's that, Sara?" He prompted.

The baby shrieked an excited," Da!" as she left Oliver's arms to crawl her way to her dad, who was now sitting on the blanket beside her mom.

"Oh my God! She's such a daddy's girl!" Felicity exclaimed.

"Like you wouldn't believe!" Lyla answered and then teasingly confessed, "Sometimes I get jealous. But then I remember that she'll grow up and begin to date."

"She's never going to date," Digg and Oliver said at the same time.

Lyla and Felicity just couldn't help but laugh at the misplaced vehemence of their conviction.

"Good luck telling her that in 14 years!" Lyla said.

"It's going to be so much fun helping her sneak out!" Felicity chimed in.

"Never gonna happen," Digg retorted with a sharp look at both his wife and his friend. Both women again laughed at his face. Exasperated, he then turned to his best friend, "Oliver, why don't you take Felicity dancing? That way, she can stop planning swift exits under the cover of darkness. I already have this one to worry about," he said as he indicated his wife with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"Come on," Oliver said as he gamely offered his hand to Felicity. He didn't know if it was one of the residual effects of Cisco's Supersmoothie but he was feeling giddy.

"I thought you didn't dance?" She blinked through her glasses, even as she laid her hand on his.

He just smiled at her as he stood and dragged her up with him.

The concert had reached past its halfway point by the time they reached a small spot, in perfect view of the stage, just at the edge of the crowd. The setting sun had cast an almost dreamy glow at the Amphitheater and the rest of the open grounds, just as the performers on stage started playing the opening chords of a slow song that they had dedicated to the people of Starling who had not given up on their team or their city even in the face of almost insurmountable odds. Oliver swept Felicity into his arms.

"You've been holding out on me," Felicity teased as he had begun to move them with the music.

"This," he said, pointing out the slow swaying movement he had started, "is just about the extent of the dancing I know," he replied, smiling. "Well, the only one that stuck, anyway," he corrected himself as he remembered those stultifying dance lessons his mother had put him through. He visibly cringed.

"Looks like there's a story here," she said as she noticed him flinch at a memory.

"Another time, another place, Felicity. For right now, just sway with me," he whispered, bringing her closer to him as the singer began to croon the lyrics.

"When I look into your eyes
It's like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
Well, there's so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you've come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?

Well, I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We've got a lot to learn
God knows we're worth it
No, I won't give up..."

As the dark hue of night engulfed the sky completely, many of the audience who weren't breaking off in pairs to sway to the uplifting melody, had lifted their phones or flashlights, dotting the sea of waving hands with pinpricks of light. A gentle breeze had picked up and lent the grounds some cool relief.

With the soulful music, the twinkling night and the swirling wind, the atmosphere had never been so ripe for the rush of honest, sincere emotion.

"I love you, Felicity," Oliver whispered, unable to hold back his feelings any longer.

He felt her stiffen at his declaration for a few beats before she seemed to recover herself and began to move with him again. He was a little disappointed that she didn't say it back but he convinced himself that it was a small price to pay for the many times he had failed her. He knew it was too much to ask her to tell him she loved him. After all, he had told her he loved her four times before, and though he had meant it to some degree every single time, he had never really been there to allow her to share it, to revel in it, to enjoy it. He was far from the man she deserved. Her not saying it back doesn't make it any less real, though, he told himself. And he didn't say it to hear it back. He had said it because it was his truth and he will keep saying it until she believed it, until she trusted it. All he had hoped for was a chance to earn her love, to earn back her trust when it came to her heart, and she was giving him that opportunity. And he promised himself that this time, he would not fail them both. So, he held onto her tightly while he kept them swaying slowly in time with the song.

"...I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got, yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend
For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not, and who I am

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up, I'm still looking up.

Well, I won't give up on us (no I'm not giving up)
God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)
We've got a lot to learn (we're alive, we are loved)
God knows we're worth it (and we're worth it)

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up."

And as the last bars of the song had played and as the crowd rumbled their applause, Oliver held Felicity closer to him for a bit and kissed her hair, savoring that one small moment with her.

Felicity carefully stepped back from him then, her face, for the first time seeming unreadable, unavailable to him. But before either of them could say anything (especially about them three little words), Thea had ambushed them with an overly delighted squeal. "Look at you, big brother!" She had said after capturing a quick snapshot of the couple just as the music had ended. "We're all about ready to call it a night!" She exclaimed, pointing to Tommy, Laurel, Roy, Barry, Caitlin and Cisco who weren't that far away from them. "The concert's gonna wrap up after just a few more songs and well, I, for one, don't wanna get trapped in exit traffic. You guys coming?"

Oliver looked at his sister but couldn't seem to come up with an answer – his mind still caught in the mystery of Felicity's confusing reaction.

"Yeah, yes, sure," Felicity had said, almost grateful for the diversion from all the awkwardness that had suddenly crept up between her and Oliver. She had followed the brunette, taking Oliver by the arm and tugging him with her as they had made their way from the concert grounds back to their erstwhile patch of green.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

They had all left the Gardens shortly after a quick clean-up and a round of goodbyes at the gate. Oliver's friends have all been but clueless about another almost seismic shift in his and Felicity's dynamic. He distracted himself by immersing himself in their farewells. Lyla kissed his cheek and Sara had hugged him. Digg had followed them with a pat in the back. Thea hugged him after he had given Roy a noogie (with the poor guy shoving at him for messing with his hair) before they took their leave and split. Laurel also hugged him goodbye just before Tommy, in a departure from their routine back slap, had given him a bro-hug and told him to play it cool. He had waited a little bit off to the side as Felicity and their Central City friends bid their own goodbyes to the rest.

He looked at her then, took her in. There had always been a genuine warmth to her that had made her approachable. Her smile was real, her hugs sincere, her voice kind, but when she had finished all her goodbyes and had walked back to where he was, she had directed all her conversation to Barry or Caitlin or Cisco, who had been, like him, all waiting for her to end her goodbye cuddle with baby Sara.

When everybody else had started trekking back towards their own parking spaces, Oliver had led his party to where he had left his X5. Felicity was talking with Cisco about some thing or other and had unconsciously fallen in step beside him. Despite being near her, it had felt like he was suddenly invisible. Her warmth, to him was distant, her touch absent, her voice reserved. And it had become clear to him that it had all started with his confession. He had jumped the gun with it. He very well knew that now. It had made her wary and had pushed her to put up walls. But she had hugged him back after he had said those three words, hadn't she? Laid her head on his chest? What did that mean? Had it been their swan song then? Maybe another goodbye?

Before he had an answer to any of his own questions, however, they had reached his parked SUV. He had opened Felicity's door for her, and she had hopped in with a small, murmured thank you – the first words she had spoken to him in a while. But she had forgone his offered hand and avoided his probing eyes. So it was going to be like that then – like so many of his parents' own 'polite disagreements' when present with company. He had curtly nodded his head and closed her door, maybe even slammed it a little. Fine, he could take a hint.

At least his friends were oblivious to their little tiff. When everybody was buckled in and ready to leave, he had asked Barry where they needed to be dropped off and his friend had answered that the train station near his place would be fine. He acknowledged Barry with a nod and pulled out of his parking space. And with a final look at the main gate, he bid a silent goodbye to the memory of their blissful afternoon at the Gardens.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

On the drive to the station, both Oliver and Felicity were both careful to keep the general conversation going with their friends – laughing, if a little bit forced at some of their funny anecdotes and throwing in a few comments, albeit almost too eagerly. Oliver had mentally thanked Thea for rounding up the others early and urging them to leave before the concert had finished. He was glad that traffic was not going to be another problem on his plate. With relatively clear roads, it was going to be, at the very least, a bearable ride.

The train station was starting to pack by the time they had gotten there but he had managed to find them some decent parking at the curb. He jumped out of his seat just right after he had stopped the engine and proceeded to open the rear compartment and help their friends with their bags. By the time he and the guys had unloaded everything, Felicity and Caitlin were already hugging and saying their goodbyes.

Barry had been the first one to turn back to him, "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," he replied as he offered his hand.

Barry shook it and brought him in for a bro-hug. "You got the girl, Oliver. Time to keep her," his friend had whispered before their hug ended.

Oliver playfully cuffed Barry's shoulder as he stepped away. "No need to remind me. But you have to go. Don't want you to be late again."

"Oliver," Caitlin had called, diverting his attention to her smiling face. She was extending a hug to him so he had caught it and returned it. "Please take care of her," she whispered.

If only she would let me, his mind quipped. But he didn't say that, instead he smiled at her as she came down from her tippy toes, "I will." That earned him another smile from the brunette before she stepped aside to get her bag from where Barry had placed it on the ground.

Cisco was the last to approach him while Felicity was hugging Barry.

"My man," the engineer had said, holding out his fist for a bump.

Oliver playfully bumped his friend's fist with his. "You take care," he had said.

"Always," Cisco answered as he made his way to Barry and Caitlin, who were a few steps away, waiting for him by the entrance.

"And Cisco," Oliver had called out just as his friend had reached the gate, "You might want to try a spray-on cooling powder," he shouted, giving his friend another option to the chafing issue.

Cisco had laughed, nodded and raised his hand in farewell as the three of them disappeared into the station.

"So, where to?" Oliver had politely asked Felicity (whom he didn't notice had made her way closer to his side) just to break the ice.

Her eyebrows met in confusion before she spoke, "Your place, of course."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Felicity remembered all too well how she had stilled at Oliver's words just as soon as he'd said it. Everything was fine, stellar even until he'd said "I love you". She had almost huffed at that because all she heard was her rational voice scoffing at her. Huh, you know what those words mean. You very well know what comes after.

She was as aware then as she was now that those three words had always been the death knell in all of her relationships with the opposite sex – be it with her father, Cooper, Oliver or Ray. It was different with Ray only insomuch as she was the one who had left him when those three words popped up. But the premise holds true: every time those three words come to within an inch of her relationships, everything gets out of whack. Every. Single. Time.

No, it's different this time, the naughty one had protested.

She had then willed the voices in her head to can it and focused instead on the way Oliver had held her, the way he had moved with her. She had brought him closer to her orbit and laid her head on his chest, allowing him to sweep her body along until the final fading strains of music. She had wanted her fairytale.

That had been at the Gardens, not even an hour ago but now, in the silence of the car ride home, the conversation she really didn't want with herself came rushing back. Her mind had started and she couldn't really switch it off. Without the banter of Barry, Caitlin and Cisco usurping her attention, the voices in her head just exploded and she had been trapped inside her mind ever since she had gotten back into the car with Oliver.

How many times will you put yourself through this, Felicity! Her rational voice admonished. How many times will you let him get away with saying those words, when he can't stay long enough to really mean them?

Her naughty side was equally adamant in stating the obvious. He chose you this time. He's choosing you now.

Yeah, but only until when? The numbers say it all. Three out of three times, he's checked out before you two even started –

It's four times, stupid! Remember? In the mansion, before that One-Eyed-Juiced-Up-Whack-a-doodle came after us? Jeez, if you're going to argue with numbers, get it right!

I thought we weren't counting that?

We are! As unthinkable as it seemed, it counts! Trust me, it does.

Which just underscores my point! That's four strikes, Felicity – one over the limit. Don't you think it's a little naïve to go give him one more? When are you ever going to learn? They all say they love you and they always leave you. They're all the same. Play it safe, Felicity.

You don't get to launch a pre-emptive strike, Felicity Smoak! You know Oliver is different. You promised him a fair chance. Don't be going back on your word now. You hear me!

There was no verbal agreement. She didn't really say yes!

It was a tacit agreement! What the hell was this morning for? And all these hugs and kisses and heart eyes?

Shut up! Just shut up! Felicity silently screamed to the warring witches in her head. She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions – one dictated by her brain, the other by her heart. She was grateful that the ride was over before she could jump out of the car into the middle of the road. She jumped out to the concrete of the parking lot instead, her bouquet forgotten in her seat.

Oliver was equally silent on the way back to his place. A babbling Felicity he could handle but an eerily quiet one – he would've preferred her screaming at the top of her lungs at him, at least then he would have an idea of what was going through her mind. He had always found the way she unwittingly telegraphed her thoughts endearing but now that she was just a big loud blanket of noiseless tension, she was driving him insane. Without the buffer his friends provided, the five-minute ride home from the train station had become suffocating, unbearable.

It was almost a relief that she left the car immediately as it came to a stop. He took a few seconds to steel himself for what was surely to come. This was it. Balls to the wall. This was it. He took a deep breath and followed her out of the car.

She was standing in front of the elevator bay, staring off really, almost absently into space. She didn't even see him as he made his way towards her. Seeing the call button unlit, he was just about to press it when he found himself being dragged to a dimly lit alcove just behind the elevator bay.

"Felicity, wha–"

And then she had his face between her hands. And then she was pulling him to her, kissing him hotly, sucking and licking at his lips while she pushed him against the wall. If his head wasn't spinning, half-crazed first from all his earlier dread and now, half-stunned by his almost raging desire, he would've been impressed. For a woman who barely came up to his chin and had half his heft, getting the jump on him was something.

Her lips had left his by the time he had fully registered what was happening. They had found their way between wet licks down the column of his throat to the vee of his neck. Her hands had shifted too. They were now busy lifting his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants. As soon as her hands found skin, his body and mind snapped her into focus.

"You deserve a bed," he said as he freed her hair from her ponytail and buried his fingers in its luxuriant mass.

Distracted by his hands running through her scalp, she lifted her lips from his neck. "I'm not complaining," she answered, almost too swiftly, before she kissed him hard back on the mouth.

By that time, he didn't care that her glasses were askew, that her hair was all over the place. He just cradled her jaw in one hand and started laying his own kisses on her supple lips. His other hand, sought the hair at her nape, pulling, tilting her mouth more into his as he sipped from her, searching, tasting her. Wresting control, he spun them around, pressing her flush against the wall. He turned her face then, still with that one hand on her jaw, so that he could suck at the throbbing skin at the side of her neck, at the back of her ear. As soon as his tongue touched skin, he felt her shudder against him.

Her mind rebelled at his tender assault, at his loving caresses, even as her body had shuddered at his kisses. She wanted sex – raw, hot, wicked sex. And so she had again turned the nature of their coupling. Her kisses then had almost turned into bites, her hands rabid, began to attack his belt.

Her hands were shaking, her frustrated fingers insistent but unsuccessful with his belt. Her actions were verging on desperate, screaming with panic. Something was wrong, Oliver thought.

"Felicity…" he said, hoping to get her to slow down. But she didn't. He took her firmly by her wrists then and shook her, "Felicity!"

His urgent voice, more than his hands on her wrists, was what startled Felicity from the frantic thoughts that were racing through her mind. She lifted her gaze to him before she abruptly turned away, not wanting him to see the panic, the conflict in her tearing eyes. Getting physical had diverted her attention from thinking. For all of her very high regard for her own genius intellect, she had gotten to a point where she really didn't like to think anymore – it just made her head ache and her heart break.

The next thing she knew Oliver's mouth was already hungrily on hers, opening hers against his, kissing her fiercely, relentlessly; his tongue insolent, branding her; his strong arm lifting her easily against the wall; his warm body grinding her against the cold concrete. There was nothing gentle or chaste in his kisses now. No slow, languid licks. No soothing caress on her smooth skin. Surrounded by 180 pounds of aroused male, enveloped by his virile strength, cocooned in his scorching warmth and drugged by his hard demanding kisses, she felt her body sag against him, heavy with lust. There was no denying him.

There was no room for doubt. There was no room for fear. There was only him.

And so she had surrendered all thought and lost herself in Oliver – the greedy hotness of his tongue against hers, the rough heat of his fingers splayed against her skin, the sliding softness of his hair against her fingers, the insistent pressure of his lips and teeth as they seized and nipped at a nipple that was straining against her dress, the reflexive rippling of his muscles at her touch, the rasp of his stubble against her neck. She gloried in his body's reaction to her as she reveled in hers to him. She had been so distracted by these sensations that she hadn't noticed just how quickly his calloused fingers had brushed her panties aside and had tested her lush heat.

"Tell me now, Felicity, if you really want this," Oliver insisted as he adjusted her hips to receive him and lined his insistent flesh against her most intimate opening. She was wet, she was wanton, and he hoped to hell, she was really willing.

He felt her nod against his shoulder. "Say it," he commanded, leaning her back against the wall so he could see her face, so there was nowhere she could hide. "Please," he urged.

"Yes, Oliver. Please," she begged, as she held him closer, tighter.

He kept his eyes on her as he pushed into her an inch. She squirmed at his size.

He kissed her neck then, coaxing her, "Relax, babe. Let me take care of you. Let me make this good for you."

As he felt her body yield, he brought her full weight down on him, until her toes almost grazed the floor.

He heard her groan as her head slumped on his shoulder.

"You okay?" He asked, because he almost wasn't. His knees almost buckled at the pleasure that had engulfed him. Fuck, he thought.

Felicity was more than okay. She felt alive. She felt free. She felt every inch of him inside her, from his hot thick slide opening her to the fullness of her completely sheathing him. She shivered as she clung to him. Good. So, so fucking good. She sighed.

Her satisfied moan was encouragement enough for Oliver to move. And so he had. And with every stroke, they had both lost themselves in each other. With every kiss, they had found themselves again.

It was sexy, the sounds she made with his every thrust; erotic, the way her limbs tightened around his body as she received him; stunning; the way her lips parted with her pleasure. She would be the death of him, this woman, his Felicity. And Oliver had looked at her until he could, until he had brought her, until he had heard her screaming his name, until he had felt her pleasure gripping his. All thought had splintered then, all movement driven by his basest desire to the singular point of his orgasm. He had growled then, trying to fight it, wanting to prolong it for her, but he was helpless to stop the ripples of pleasure that had seized his body.

Felicity had already been swimming in wanton delight when her body had again woken to his more insistent demands. He had been fucking her through her orgasm and she had felt herself thrilling again to the rhythm, to the harsher beat. And so she had met his every movement and allowed herself to be swept yet again, the lights of her consciousness flickering, as he buried himself in her, once, then twice as he spilled.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

It was a long time before either of them had enough strength to move. A gentle hand sought her nape, buried into her hair and pressed her head more firmly against his shoulder, as if he were trying to shield her from something – maybe from the impending reality that was threatening to break into their moment. He held her like that for a few seconds more, still buried inside her before he let out a quiet curse.

He began to move, lifting her off him. She let out a distressed groan at his withdrawal, at the wetness that followed, sliding out and down the inside of her thighs.

He felt her trembling as he set her down, so he held her to him until he was sure that her feet were planted solidly on the ground. Convinced that she had regained enough strength in her legs to keep herself from falling, he began to clean her up and put their clothes back in place as best he could. She couldn't look at him so she kept her head against his chest as he did all that.

"I'm going to take you upstairs, we'll get cleaned up, and – Come to my bed, Felicity. Let… let me make love to you properly. I didn't mean – I… I can make it so much better for you. I –"

He felt her fingers on his lips.

Felicity was a little sore, a lot vulnerable and had still to confront more than a few truths of her own – chief among them was the shame she had begun to feel at having taken advantage of him, of having used him so callously for sex. They needed to talk. "We need to talk," she quietly said.

Oliver knew those words and knew what they meant. After all, he had said them first. He sagged into her, leaning his forehead on the cold concrete. For all of their misunderstandings, they spoke each other's language well. He exhaled, trying to steady himself against the onrush of uncertainty, of anxiety, of dread, of fear.

So this was how it felt like , he thought, getting all your hopes up and having them crumble. He felt cold, unsteady. He felt another breath leave him. Of all that he had to survive in the last eight years, this might be what does him in. He wouldn't survive this.

He knew that she loved him, but maybe not enough to willingly admit it? Or maybe she wasn't saying it because she loved him too much to hurt him if she had decided to end them now, once and for all. Maybe love just wasn't enough. Maybe he wasn't enough. She was smart and maybe she had learned that lesson all too well. And he couldn't really blame her for wanting out. After all, he had set the script, hadn't he?

But the thought of losing someone he cared about, someone he loved…

It brought him back to just before his mother's political rally, to just before Felicity had revealed his mother's secret to him. He'd told her then that she was not going to lose him but she had. Multiple times, she had. For all his talk about not wanting to know what life would feel like without her, she had lived it – that life without him. And here she still was, giving him a chance, because he'd asked for it. And it looked like that chance was just about up. It felt a lot like everything was about to end.

But not yet. He would beg, he would grovel, maybe even kiss her feet.

It was then that he felt a newfound respect for the woman in front of him. She had endured his rejection so many times and had not faltered. He had, in turns, frustrated her and angered her but she had stood beside him, stood by the mission even as he had repeatedly pushed her away.

Another breath escaped him. It was the least he could do – listen to what she had to say. So they were going to talk. "Okay," he said, feeling as if an eternity had passed when it had only been mere seconds in fact. "Where do you want to do this?"

"Upstairs is fine."

And because he couldn't let her go just yet, he took her hand in his, threaded his fingers in hers and led her back to the elevator bay and to the hard, undeniable truths they had to face.


I am almost sorry for putting Oliver through this hell but the muse decreed that he must pay his dues. Feel free to lash out on the comments section below! (No, really, feel free to point out unresolved issues so that I can tie them up or at least address them in the last chapter!)

Last chapter is halfway done! I promise not to make you wait for another week before I put it out. Kisses!

Oh, and song credits: 1) Song quoted in text: I Won't Give Up - Jason Mraz, 2) Song I used to help set up the steamy atmosphere: Infinity/Wicked Game Mash Up - Carolina Wallace