Between Love and Skate 8/?
Author: dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: After an injury ends his chances for a career in professional hockey, Oliver Queen doesn't know what he's going to do. And then he gets an offer to become a figure skater and partner with a beautiful, babbling blonde skater: Felicity Smoak. With a gold medal at the Olympics on the line, can love stick its landing?
Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: This chapter may be on the shorter side . . . but I think, in this case, it's quality vs. quantity. At least, that's what I'm hoping! Hope y'all enjoy.

XXX

If he was being honest with himself, the four hours he spent walking around Pyeongchang wasn't just about getting some air. It was about maybe, just maybe, crossing paths with Felicity. Because if he found her, maybe they could start fixing things. If only they could talk one-on-one, just them. But he had no luck in finding her-or finding a decision about what to do.

Everything in him was screaming that he should just tell Felicity. Stop hiding and pretending. Be the man who wouldn't try to change her or control her, but support and protect her. And love her.

But at the same time, it didn't seem like it was the right time. She had just confronted some major family issues. She must have doubts about Diggle and Oliver after her stepfather's accusation. They were in the middle of a stressful situation, their emotions were running high, and he wasn't sure he deserved her. All of those things told him he shouldn't say anything yet.

Yet when he walked into the house very, very late, he nearly changed his mind. Because he could see her talking to Digg in the living room, their backs to him. And she was wearing an Edmonton Oilers jersey that dwarfed her slight figure, the name Gretzky spanning her shoulders. It was the jersey he had given her for Christmas. And suddenly, he knew that was all he wanted. Felicity, in his life, in his arms.

He had to tell her. Now.

Taking a step towards the living room, he got close enough to hear what Felicity and Digg were talking about, and his blood went cold.

"Are you saying Malcolm was trying to split up Oliver and me by using Sara?"

"That's what Barry told me," Digg said quietly.

Oliver drew back to stand out of sight of the doorway, in case either of them turned around. "Why would Barry tell you and not me?" Felicity asked, sounding confused.

"Because if word got out, Barry was worried everyone would know how we found out about their plan. It's pretty well-known that you two keep in contact," Digg explained. "This way, we would be prepared if Malcolm tried anything, since we knew what his endgame was."

"It's just so Malcolm," Felicity said with a sigh. "Sending Sara after Oliver to steal him away, leaving Barry and me without partners in the process. I should have known, when Malcolm showed up at the rink before Nationals . . . I knew he had some kind of plan, but I had no idea he had gotten Sara involved. I hope she knew what she was doing-I mean, I don't think she'd be so underhanded. Maybe it was just about Oliver for her."

There was a long pause, then Digg said, "So . . .you knew about Oliver and Sara?"

The little sarcastic puff of laughter Felicity made nearly broke Oliver's heart. "I came to his room the next morning, so we could talk. Sara answered the door in Oliver's shirt. And then he walked out of the bathroom in a towel."

"He was drunk," Digg said bluntly. "We do a lot of dumb things when we're drunk."

"Tell me about it."

There was an intake of breath. "Felicity?"

"Nothing happened, Digg," Felicity said tiredly. "I promise."

When Digg spoke, Oliver can almost picture him, standing with his hand on Felicity's shoulder, giving her one of those looks of his. "Believe me, you wouldn't have wanted anything to happen under those conditions."

"I know," Felicity said softly. "And yeah, we had been drinking. A lot. Although it was mostly me. But Oliver wasn't drunk enough to . . . It must take more alcohol with a girl like me, versus someone like Sara."

Oliver was ready to storm into the room, ready to tell Felicity she's got it all wrong, but he doesn't get a chance because Digg immediately responds.

"Maybe it's not like that, Felicity. And I'm not the person you should be talking to about this."

"I know. I'm sorry, Digg, I didn't mean to just spew all this over you."

"Don't be sorry," Digg said. "I knew there had to be a reason, why you suddenly didn't want to do the move, more than just what Quentin said about me and Malcolm. Once I knew about Oliver and Sara, it made more sense."

Turning around quietly, Oliver headed for the stairs. He had heard enough and he didn't want to risk getting caught by either Digg or Felicity, risk getting drawn into an uncomfortable conversation. Not when his emotions were like this.

He just couldn't figure out what to do. Every time he felt like he was ready to talk to Felicity, something would happen to make him reconsider. To make him think she didn't need the complication of romance in her life right now. He just wanted her to be happy, to smile and laugh and be Felicity.

And as much as he loved her . . . he still didn't know if he would make that happen. If he could make her happy.

XXX

When he woke up the next morning-very early considering the time he had finally fallen asleep-Oliver was tempted to pull the covers over his head. But something made him get up, pulling on a shirt as he walked out of his room. As he walked down the stairs, he saw a stack of suitcases by the front door. He frowned, recognizing Felicity's luggage in the pile.

By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Felicity appeared, coming from the direction of the kitchen. She was already fully dressed and holding a travel mug. He blinked. "Felicity?"

She looked at him, and only someone who really knew her face might see the signs of a sleepless night. But he did, in the faded blue of her eyes and the paleness of her skin. "Oliver. Good morning."

"What's all this?" he asked, gesturing to her bags. Trying to play dumb, even as he heard his voice shake just a little bit. Because he had a bad feeling about this.

"My parents and I are going to try and catch the eight o'clock flight to JFK tonight," she said, wrapping her hands around her mug. "You're welcome to stay in the house for the rest of the Olympics; it's all paid for through the Closing Ceremonies. Digg will drive you over to the rink this afternoon-"

"Felicity?" he asked, interrupting her. Not believing what he was hearing. Not wanting to believe. Because why would she be leaving tonight, so soon after they skated?

Her eyes slipped shut for a moment. "I'm retiring," she said quietly.

What?

Oliver could only stare at her, his heart in his throat. Retiring? She was leaving? Leaving the sport, leaving him? But what did that mean for them?

"This afternoon will be my final skate," she said, looking down at her feet.

"I . . . I don't understand," he said, fumbling to find some explanation for this decision.

Felicity gazed at him. "I thought it would be obvious. After Nationals, after last night . . . I have to get away from all this."

"All this?" he repeated, stepping closer to her.

A flicker of something appeared in her eyes. Like she wanted to tell him everything. He saw her lips part, but then she pressed them together. "You-you know you won't have anything to worry about. You'll have no problem finding a new partner. Although I don't know if she'll have my slap shot. Or my ability to babble," she said, a small smile appearing on her face.

But he knew the smile was fake. Just like the acceptance he heard in her voice. Sure, Felicity might skate for her parents, but she loved it, too. He had seen how much she loved it, so many times before. In the way her face lit up when she landed a new move, in the dreamy happiness as she was gliding over the ice, in the cocky smile she'd give him whenever she finished a program with less mistakes than he had. He knew she wasn't ready to give it up-

Or maybe that was his own emotions getting in the way. His experiences coloring his reaction. But this was about Felicity, not him. Oliver swallowed. "What . . . what are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure. I'm thinking MIT, but . . . who knows?" She shrugged her shoulders, a move he had seen her do a thousand times in the nearly two years he had known her, but this was a new shrug. One he didn't recognize.

At a loss for words, he just nodded. Then he managed to speak, feeling how clumsy his tongue was. "That's good. I mean, I know how much you wanted to go to school. To have that experience. Now-now you can have whatever you want."

"That's the idea," she said, attempting a peppy note but failing. Because he could see how scared she was. How uncertain. And it made him worry about her even as he felt proud of her, too. For walking away from everything she knew because she wanted something different. Wanted a chance to be happy.

Even if it meant she was walking away from him, too.

Oliver gazed down at her. Wishing he was good with words, wishing he could come up with a reason to tell her how he felt. Other than he wanted her to stay with him, so he could love her. But he couldn't. So he did his best to smile at her. "We'll have to make our program today a good one."

She nodded, and to his surprise reached out to touch his arm. "I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have said anything to that reporter, I just-I'm sorry, Oliver."

"Hey, it's okay," he said, leaning in towards her. Close enough that he could catch the fragrance of her hair, something citrusy and fresh and clean.

"It's not okay, and you've been such a great partner-the best partner I've ever had," she said, looking up at him, her eyes starting to shine behind her glasses.

"Hey," he repeated, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Felicity, I understand."

Her face went soft at his words, and she smiled. It wasn't big and happy, but at least it was a real smile. She nodded. "Thank you, Oliver."

He couldn't help himself. He gently squeezed her shoulder, his fingers rubbing against her sweater. "You're welcome, Felicity."

A car horn honked, and they both jumped a little. "That's my ride," she said. She leaned up and brushed her lips over his cheek, making his whole body catch on fire at the contact. "See you at the rink."

Without waiting for him to say anything, she turned and hurried out the door. Leaving Oliver staring after her again. Wondering why she had kissed him. Wondering why his brain had gone so blissfully blank at the touch of her lips on his skin.

Wondering what it would be like if it was her lips against his.

XXX

Strangely, the hours until it was time to leave for the figure skating venue seemed to move so much more quickly than they should. Or maybe it was just he was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the passage of time. Either way, before he knew it, Digg was telling him there was a half hour before they had to leave.

Once he had thrown everything into his bag, he ran out to the car and slid into the front seat beside Digg. "Sorry."

"No problem," Digg said, starting the car and pulling out. There was silence for a few minutes, then Digg spoke quietly. "So you know I never talked to Malcolm about you and Sara becoming partners, right?"

Oliver nodded quickly. "Yes. I didn't believe Mr. Lance at all. That wouldn't be you at all."

"Right," Digg said, easily navigating the traffic on the Korean roads. "And it'd be pointless. You only want to skate with Felicity."

That was true. But what Oliver wanted might soon be irrelevant. Not with Felicity retiring. And remembering that-not that it had been far from his thoughts all day-made him feel anxious. Fidgeting with his bag, unzipping and rezipping it, Oliver knew Digg was both annoyed and worried. The glances over at him confirmed that. With a sigh, he turned to their coach. "Did Felicity tell you about her decision? To retire?"

Digg nodded slowly. "Yep."

When he didn't say anything more, Oliver turned to look at Digg. "Is that all you're going to say? 'Yep'?"

"What's to say? She wants to retire," Digg said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Does she, though? I don't know," Oliver replied. He leaned back against the seat, shifting his legs. "I mean, I know it seems like she skates because it's what her parents want, but I think she really does love it. That she doesn't want to give it up. But if she keeps skating, Donna and Mr. Lance, they get to stay in the driver's seat. And Felicity's an adult. She should get to do what she wants." Blowing out a breath, Oliver let his head drop back against the headrest.

A silence filled the car and Oliver found his fingers itching, reaching for the zipper of his bag again. But Digg's voice made him freeze.

"So you do know you're in love with Felicity, right?"

Oliver's head whipped around to stare at Digg. "What?" he croaked.

With a snort, Digg looked at Oliver for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. "Do not try and tell me you don't know that."

"No, that's-I mean, yeah, I-wait," Oliver said, trying to get his thoughts in order. It was one thing to realize that he loved Felicity, but to have someone else be able to see it . . .

"Wait, do you think Felicity knows?" he blurted out.

"What do you think?"

Sighing, Oliver slumped in his seat. "I've wanted to tell her for weeks," he confessed quietly. "It . . . it just never seemed like the right time."

"You wait for the right moment, the right moment never comes along," Digg said, glancing over at him.

"I was gonna do it after today," Oliver admitted, looking down at his hands. "But now . . ."

"Now you don't have the time," Digg replied as he pulled into the parking lot at the rink for competitors. "So I guess you have to decide what matters more: the right moment or how you feel about her."

XXX

The buzz of energy inside the arena was electric. It made his skin tingle and his stomach roll-which sent him running for the nearest toilet. But he still felt queasy as he left the bathroom and headed for the locker rooms.

His heart was practically pounding its way out of his chest while he changed into his costume and shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers. He started jogging in place, warming up his muscles like normal. Trying to stick to his routine: throwing up, cardio, stretching, and then hitting the ice.

Even though this was the last time he would be skating with Felicity.

God, he wished there was more time. If he had more time, he'd be able to talk to her and maybe figure out where her head was. He really wanted to know why she wanted to retire. Find out why she thought it was her best option to get away from her parents. Ask her why MIT had such a hold on her.

Put in a pitch for himself as a boyfriend.

Boyfriend. He'd never been a boyfriend. Could he do that? Was that who he was?

But then Oliver thought about not seeing Felicity ever again. Never hearing her giggles or seeing her smile. Never telling her he loved her.

And like that, he didn't care if he could be a boyfriend. He only knew he was ready to try, if it meant having Felicity.

Oliver kicked off his sneakers and put on his skates, lacing them as quickly as he could. Then he went looking for Felicity.

When he spotted her, he made himself stop and watch her for a moment. Watch as she slowly stretched, one hand gracefully arched over her head as she leaned over to meet the toe of her foot, propped up on a table. He loved her long program costume: the red dress with the full skirt made her look strong, confident. And completely, jaw-droppingly beautiful.

Pulling at his shirt collar, he walked up to her. "Felicity."

She glanced at him and gave him a small smile. "Hey. I'm nearly done-have you stretched?"

Nodding, he rubbed his hands against his pants. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good to go. I just-I wanted to talk to you."

"It's nearly time to skate . . ." Felicity said, her forehead wrinkled. She straightened up. "You look really nervous."

He huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, well, I am."

The wrinkles on her forehead deepened. "You threw up already, right? I thought after you did that, you were fine."

"Yeah, normally, but this . . . it's not the normal kind of nerves, Felicity," he said, trying to find the right way to tell her he was completely in love with her and that if she gave him a chance, he'd do everything he could-he would do anything-to make her happy.

Felicity looked up at him, so adorably confused as she searched his face. Something in his eyes must have given her some kind of hint, gave her some idea that this was serious, that this wasn't about their skating. Her teeth sank into her lower lip for a moment, her eyes looking right into his. She moved back to let a clump of people get around them, then gave him a too-bright smile. "This isn't a great place for a conversation-we're kinda in the way here, Oliver."

"I know-" he said, only for Felicity to take his arm and pull him close to her as a camera crew walked behind him, headed towards the ice.

"It's like rush hour around here," she said, looking at everything except him. "We should get down to the ice."

Without waiting for him to say anything, Felicity turned and walked away from him.

Oliver pressed his lips together. He felt like all he did was watch Felicity leave. Leave before she could be left. And he got that-he could understand it.

But damn it, he was tired of it. And he was ready for it to end.

Taking advantage of his longer legs, Oliver hurried after her. "Felicity, wait," he said, catching her arm and pulling her to face him, not far from the boards that surrounded the rink.

"Oliver, we have to skate-"

"I know," he said, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. Touching her skin made his mouth go dry, even as her eyes went wide. "But-but first, I have to tell you-you need to know-"

The emotions swirling in her eyes made him hesitate. Because she looked so uncertain, almost scared. And at first, he didn't understand why she was scared. Was she scared of him? He was ready to let her go, ready to step back and say he would tell her later, when he looked a little deeper. And there, underneath the fear and concern and anxiety, he saw hope.

The same hope he saw when he looked in the mirror and thought about a future with her.

"Felicity, somewhere in the middle of all this, I fell in love with you."

Under his fingers, he could feel the tremble that goes through her at his words. She stared up at him, her mouth falling open a little. He leaned in, needing to be closer to her. Needing her to hear him over the din of people talking and music playing.

"Do you understand?" he asked. "I'm saying I love you. I want to be with you. I don't care if we skate together anymore-if you want to retire, I'll follow you to MIT and work in a coffee shop if I have to, just to be with you."

Her long, dark eyelashes fluttered as she blinked. "Oliver-"

"Don't try and tell me we aren't right for each other," he said, feeling frantic. "I think we might only be right for each other."

Suddenly, Felicity looked away from him, towards the ice. Oliver felt his heart sinking, like his whole world was ending. And then an official was by his side, smiling as he said cheerfully, "You may take the ice."

Their names had been called while he had been confessing his feelings. And now they had to skate with an Olympic medal on the line.

"Felicity?" he asked, hearing his voice crack in the middle of his favorite four syllables.

She slowly turned her head to look back at him. He watched as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, making his heart clench. "I . . ."

"Yeah?" he said, stepping closer to her. Wanting to fall into her eyes and never leave.

"I want us to do the Diggle and land it."

Oliver did a double-take and almost lifted his hand to stick a finger in his ear. Because she couldn't have responded to his confession by talking about their program, could she? "What?"

Felicity swallowed. "We need to skate. I want to skate with you. C'mon."

The official was jabbering at him to take the ice, but it took a moment for everything to sink in. Then Oliver hurried after Felicity. "No, it's too dangerous, Felicity-"

"We're doing it," she said, glancing back at him as she skated towards the center of the rink.

As they took their positions, Oliver tried to figure out what she was thinking, what she was feeling. But he drew a complete blank. Because she hadn't said anything about what he had said, didn't say anything about how she felt about him-and the only thing she seemed concerned about was skating. And yeah, it was her last skate, but . . .

She looked up at him and gave him that mischievous, cocky smile that he really loved on her. "Show me what you've got. Toe pick."

What?

As their music started playing, it was like the pieces fell into place for Oliver. It's as if they're on the same page-there were no walls between them. Felicity was letting him in, holding nothing back. He felt connected to Felicity in a way he had never felt before. With anyone. And he can't help grinning at her.

Show her what he's got? Oh, he'll show her.

They began and it was like nothing he has ever experienced before. The skating feels effortless. Jumps are higher. Footwork was crisper. Lifts are stronger. Spins are faster.

It's the perfect program. But there's still the Diggle looming at the end. He should be nervous. Every other time they've run their long program, the closer they get to the move, the more tense he would become. Not today, though. He felt loose, relaxed. And so does Felicity-he can tell as he lifted her up into the lasso lift.

They rotated as they crossed the ice and Oliver felt the slightest extra pressure on his hands from Felicity. Like she's squeezing his fingers now that it's time.

And that was all he needed.

He lowered her in the swinging exit that was characteristic of the lasso lift, their hands immediately shifting into position for the throw quad Lutz. And then he's lifted her up into the air, sending her across the ice. Felicity pulled her arms in tightly against her body to build up the necessary speed as she rotated once, twice, three-

Four!

And then she landed, landed perfectly, and Oliver can't help yelling "Boo-yah!" at her and grinning, and she was beaming at him as he catches up with her amid the wild applause of the audience. He wrapped his arms around her, lowering her in the dip that's the last element in their program.

They're both breathing hard as they slow to a stop and the music swells to a crescendo. "Well?" he managed to ask, quirking an eyebrow.

"Not-not bad," she said breathlessly, her eyes flicking between his eyes and lips. He felt hot all over at such an obvious sign of attraction from her.

"Maybe I'll get another chance?" he asked, pulling her closer to him.

Felicity nodded, sliding her hand up a little to the back of his neck. "Only because-because I love you."

Nothing had ever sounded so good to Oliver. So right. He smiled at her, unable to hold it back. "Lucky me."

And then he closed the rest of the gap between them and kissed her.

End, Chapter 8

Author's Note 2: Never fear, there will be one more chapter. If nothing else, you have to know if Oliver and Felicity won gold! Oh, and I suppose there's other stuff you'll want to know about. :-) See you on Tuesday, hopoyfully.