A/N: Hi folks! I hope you enjoy this one!
Chapter Nine
Felicity closed the apartment door behind her, hand lingering on the door knob as what just happened replayed in her mind. She kissed Oliver Queen. Her mouth was against his mouth, and it was not unpleasant. In fact, it was nice. It was very nice, and all other thoughts aside, she couldn't help but wonder when it would happen again. If it would happen again.
She walked over to the couch and dropped her purse on the cushions, unable to stop the wide grin that pulled at her mouth. She leaned over and reached into her purse to grab her phone. She wasn't one to kiss and tell, but there was no way she wasn't telling Roger.
There was a knock on the door and she glanced back, quickly finishing her text and throwing her phone back in her purse. She walked over to the door and opened it, surprised to find Oliver standing on the other side. They both stood there for a moment in silence.
"Oliver, what-"
He stepped forward suddenly, hand slipping around the curve of her neck as he crashed his mouth against hers. She stumbled backwards clumsily, but his other arm wound around her waist, keeping her in place. She dimly heard the door slam shut, but had no idea how.
They moved backwards, Felicity not caring much where they were headed as she pressed herself against him, fingers threaded through his hair. But their trajectory did matter when she rammed into an end table and sent a pile of books on the edge of the table crashing to the floor.
Neither of them seemed to care much, correcting the collision with a slight change in direction, and then the back of Felicity's legs hit the couch and they were horizontal, Oliver's hand dipping under her skirt to feel the softness of her thigh. He pulled his mouth to her neck and Felicity gasped for breath, her entire body feeling as if it were on fire as his fingers brushed her bare skin. She wriggled beneath him, seeking some contact just out of reach, and he groaned softly before pulling away and straightening to a seated position. She propped herself up on her elbows, breathing ragged.
"Oliver?"
"I need to stop now, otherwise I won't be able to," he said huskily. He reached forward and tucked an errant strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear. She quickly reached up and grabbed his wrist, keeping his palm against her cheek.
"For the record, I'd be okay with the not stopping."
He chuckled. "Believe it or not, I only came up here to kiss you."
"Well, you did that very well."
He leaned forward and kissed her gently. He sat back and cleared his throat, something passing over his face. Felicity sat up and tentatively laid her hand on his knee.
"What is it?"
"I need to tell you something. Before we go any further."
"Okay," she said gingerly. "What is it?"
He paused for a moment and then said, "There is a reason that I didn't tell you about the breakup."
She felt her stomach squirm. She didn't care about that right now. Not when they had just been doing what they'd been doing on the couch. But she nodded anyway, signaling him to continue.
"We sort of broke up because of you."
Felicity blinked. "You what?"
"I mean, there were a lot of reasons, but you were one of them. Laurel heard things. And then, I don't know, I guess I mentioned you a lot. She accused me of cheating on her with you. Of having feelings for you. And although the first part wasn't true, I couldn't deny the second part."
Felicity felt as if a million butterflies had just hatched in her stomach.
"But I didn't know how you felt. And telling you how it ended if you didn't feel anything…" he shook his head. "It was cowardly. I know that. But then you kissed me downstairs…"
"For the record, I don't usually do that," she said. "Randomly kiss men in cars, I mean. Sometimes I'll, you know, give a peck on the cheek if it's a guy friend. But even that's pretty rare, because people can get a weird read off of it, and, I usually try to avoid that."
He was gazing at her with this sort of content smirk and she cleared her throat a bit, feeling her cheeks redden at his constant gaze. He reached forward and laid his hand on her cheek.
"God, I love it when you blush," he murmured, and she turned her cheek in toward his palm.
"I should leave," he said, although he made no movement from the couch. His free hand found its way to her leg and it began to inch higher.
"Okay."
"Really, right now," he said, inching forward. "I should go."
"Mhm," she hummed, eyes drifting shut when his lips brushed the curve of her jaw. Her hands slipped into his suit jacket, feeling the ripples of his abdomen through the material of his shirt.
"I'm double parked out front," he said, rolling his shoulders for her as she pulled his suit jacket off.
"I'll pay off your ticket," she told him, taking a hold of his tie and tugging his mouth to hers again. He was finished arguing then.
Several hours and an order of Chinese takeout later Felicity snuck into her bathroom, phone clutched in her hand. She'd thrown on Oliver's shirt and messily fastened a few of the buttons. As she closed the door she paused, grinning at the sight of Oliver wrapped up in her bubblegum pink sheets. She shut the door and quickly scrolled to Roger's number. He picked up after one ring.
"This better be good," he said. "You're interrupting The Late Show."
"Oliver Queen is in my bed," she blurted softly, her stomach flipping at the mere words, despite her being treated to both the sight and experience prior.
"You're kidding."
"Nope," she said, popping the "p".
"Then what the hell are you doing on the phone with me?" Roger asked.
"He's asleep," she said. "Apparently VPs fall asleep early. Anyway…" she trailed off, smiling to herself. "This is really happening. Or at least I think it is. Whatever this is. We haven't exactly defined it."
"You kissed, what, five hours ago? You have time, Felicity."
"I know, we do," she agreed softly.
"Alright, unless you have some other earthshattering thing to tell me go back out there and snuggle with your VP. Fallon's about to play beer pong with Meryl Streep, which requires my full attention."
She smirked. "Enjoy your beer pong."
"Enjoy your VP."
She clicked out of the call, smiling briefly at her reflection before opening the bathroom door. Oliver was awake now and blearily asked, "Were you talking on your phone in there?"
She shook her head quickly, pausing to reach back and place her phone on the bathroom counter. She walked back into her bedroom and climbed into bed, curling up beside him. He rested his hand on her hip, casually brushing his thumb back and forth.
"You look nice in my shirt, by the way."
She grinned, turning her face in toward his chest. "I might just keep it."
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"So, I noticed this on your nightstand," he said, reaching over and grabbing a small scrapbook. Felicity, circa 1993, grinned wide from the cover of the scrapbook, donning some of the 90's best fashion. She blanched and immediately went to grab it from him, but he was too quick and held it out of her reach.
"Oliver-"
"Wait, so, I think this is really great," Oliver said, pushing himself up to a seating position. She groaned, resting her chin on the side of his arm as he pointed at the picture and said, "It takes a lot of personality to pull of a hat like that."
"I'll have you know that was the height of fashion in 1993."
Oliver snorted, flipping open the scrapbook. It had been years since Felicity had actually looked through it. The book had been a gift from her parents when she graduated college. They told her how proud they were that their little girl had grown up to be such a strong and accomplished woman, and that the scrapbook was a reminder of just how much she had grown.
Oliver flipped through the pages, pausing when he reached a crop of Halloween photos. There was one of her as a scarecrow. Another as Minnie Mouse. Another as the lady from American Goth.
"Are you the lady from that farmer painting here?" Oliver asked, tapping the photo.
"Uh huh," she said. "I was a very strange child."
He turned the page and laughed when he saw her dressed Princess Leia. "Very nice."
"That wig was a bitch," she noted, yawning a bit. "I stopped wearing it about fifteen minutes into trick or treating and then yelled at everyone when they asked if I was a ghost. The yelling was pretty irrational considering without the wig it's literally just a white dress. But, I was angry on principal."
Oliver laughed. "Well, in your defense you don't come across many rational six year olds."
"Seven," she corrected him. "1995 was a very big Star Wars year for me."
"You know, I went as Han Solo for Halloween one year when I was little," Oliver said.
She grinned up at him. "You did? You know, I could totally picture that. You're a Han Solo kind of guy."
He laughed. "I loved it. My mom, not so much. I kept pretending I was shooting everyone. She apparently thought that was bad form."
Felicity snorted, slipping her arm around his and hugging it to her chest. He continued to flip through, pausing now and then to comment on a photograph. Felicity indulged him, even letting him linger on some of the more embarrassing photographs. It just felt so nice laying there in her bed and flipping through that scrapbook like it was something they always did. It felt like he had always been there next to her, and she had to keep reminding herself it had only been a few hours.
She was perfectly content until Oliver flipped the page and her naked baby self grinned up from the bathtub. She quickly grabbed the scrapbook from him and flipped it closed.
"And that ends this journey through Felicity's childhood pictures."
"You're no fun," he teased.
"I draw the line at naked baby pictures," she told him crisply. "Considering what we did a few hours ago...way too weird."
He laughed. "Fair enough."
She reached over him and put the scrapbook back on the nightstand. Oliver's phone was on the nightstand, and she noticed that the screen had lit up. Tommy's name flashed on the screen.
"Oliver, I think Tommy is calling you."
"What?" Oliver said, glancing over and grabbing his phone. He groaned and went to end the call when Felicity touched his wrist and said, "No, answer it."
He hesitated before swiping into the call.
"Tommy, what's going on?"
She heard the buzz of another voice but couldn't pick out any particular words. Tommy must have been saying something bad because Oliver sat up suddenly, the cover pooling at his waist.
"What? What happened?"
There was the buzz of Tommy's voice again, and then Oliver asked, "Is the damage bad?"
Felicity sat up, looking at him with concern. What was damaged? And more importantly, why did Oliver look like he just was told someone died?
"Shit, yeah, I'll be right there," Oliver said. He hung up, shaking his head as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He reached down and grabbed his boxers, quickly slipping them on.
Felicity watched from the bed, unsure whether she should ask what happened or wait for him to tell her. After a few moments of tense silence she decided to ask him herself.
"Oliver, what's wrong?"
"It's Verdant," he said. "There's been a fire."
"What?" she said loudly. "A fire? But – what happened?"
"I don't know," he said, buttoning his pants. "But I need to get down there. Tommy's freaking out."
"Yeah, I can imagine." she said. "What about you? Are you okay?"
He nodded. "I'm fine. I just need to get down there and see exactly how much damage there is and…"
He paused for a moment, eyes landing on the shirt that Felicity was currently wearing. She noticed the direction of his gaze and glanced down.
"Oh. Your shirt."
She quickly slipped it off and then pulled the sheet up to cover herself. He sheepishly buttoned the front, silence stretching between them. Being completely naked in the bed with him now fully dressed suddenly made Felicity feel incredibly bare. She pulled the cover up higher, tucking it under chin.
"I'm really sorry I have to leave," he said, walking around to her side of the bed and cupping her cheek with his hand. "If it was anything less than a fire…"
"Go," she said, covering his hand with hers. "I'll be fine here. It's not like I haven't slept alone before."
"Let me drive you to work tomorrow," he said.
"You don't have to," she said softly.
"I want to," he returned simply, grinning slightly. "I'll be here around 8:30."
She nodded. "Okay."
He kissed her softly and then left. She waited until she heard the front door open and close before she laid back down, breathing in his scent that lingered on the pillow.
A/N: So, I considered drawing out the post-kiss. I even had an entire scene wrote where Felicity was freaking out with Roger, and while I do regret not being able to use some of those lines (seriously - I had some winners) I ultimately thought this way was truer to the characters. Also, I've drawn this out for eight chapters now. Let's give them a little fluffiness before I bring in the next wave of drama ;)
I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!
