A/N: For FF #6 – Sleepless Nights. I really struggled with this prompt for some reason and kept getting interrupted while working on it. So it was only an hour total, but it was admittedly over a couple days…and it's a fairly abrupt ending, but here it is anyway. Maybe I'll expand it a little and post it in a different collection later :-)
Waiting
Tonight, she is once again waiting.
Felicity Smoak does a lot of waiting.
Usually it's after midnight, and usually she's alone, with only her computers to keep her company. Oh, sometimes Roy or Diggle is around, but often they are gone as well and it's her, in the silence, keeping her vigil that's both a curse and an honor.
She often tries to look busy if Digg or Roy returns first, for fear they will suggest she go home. For fear that she will have to spell it out for them – that she can't go home until she sees Oliver's face again. Can't sleep before she knows he's all right.
It's been like this since she helped Digg drag his ridiculously heavy frame into an abandoned building for the first, but not the last, time. Always waiting, listening, praying to hear his voice in her ear, his footsteps on the stairs.
Tonight has been especially long. It's is three o'clock in the morning, Digg and Oliver are out doing surveillance on a club that might be luring underage girls in as part of their normal routine. They could be hours yet, and she catches herself nodding off slightly, unable to suppress a yawn.
The voice in her ear is soft, the tone almost indulgent. "Go home, Felicity." She loves that voice. She can almost hear that tiny smile of his in it, the one he gives her so often these days.
She shakes her head slightly. "I'm fine, I'm fine."
Now Digg chimes in. "I promise we'll be okay Felicity. If we need something we can call you."
She squares her shoulders. "No, we're a team. If you guys are staying put then so am I."
She hears a sigh, though honestly she isn't sure which of them it comes from. Then Oliver says, "Then go lie down for a minute."
The only place to lie down is his cot, tucked in the back corner. She knows he sleeps there more nights than he's willing to admit, that is, if he's sleeping at all. And though part of her wants to protest, the thought of kicking her shoes off and curling up there is so appealing she can't fight it. "Only if you promise…"
"Everything will be fine," Oliver says, his voice is warm and reassuring, and that tone of voice more than anything convinces her it really is okay to take a break.
She goes to the cot, kicks off her red heels, sets her glasses on a nearby shelf and lies down. She pulls the blanket up over her, and blissfully realizes it even smells like him. If she has to wait, if she has to worry, than this is certainly the way to do it.
The gentle touch on her face brings her awake with a start, and she finds herself staring into a pair of wonderfully familiar blue eyes - at the very smile she'd been imagining.
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he says, his voice just above a whisper, his hand resting on her shoulder.
She doesn't know if it's the tone, or the smile, or the thought that he's just called her beautiful, but she closes her eyes, wondering if she's dreaming. When she opens them he is still there crouched beside the cot, the green leather traded in for jeans and a t-shirt. She remembers then why she is here and frowns. "I fell asleep."
He gives a quick low chuckle, and nods. "Yes, yes you did."
Reaching up she feels for the earpiece and finds it still there. "But I should have heard you talking…I should have…"
The smile widens. "We muted things on our end," he says.
She frowns, rubs her eyes. "But what if…"
The hand trails up to her face again, a ghosting touch of his knuckles against her cheek. It makes her hold her breath.
"You worry too much," he says, a frown line appearing between his eyes.
Without intending to she says the exact thought that goes through her mind. "I like worrying about you. I like that I get to." Then feeling brave she adds. "And I think you like having me here … when you get back."
She sees him swallow hard, and the knuckles stroke again over her cheek, lingering a little longer. "Yeah, I do," he says.
She smiles. "Then I guess I'll keep waiting."
He nods then, his eyes never leaving her face. "And I'll keep coming back to you."
