A/N: A little holiday treat for you all!

Chapter Ten

Felicity hurried down the street, glancing anxiously at her watch. She'd overslept that morning, and while being a few minutes late to work was usually pretty forgivable – her own boss seemed to run perpetually ten minutes behind – there was an important team building meeting that she'd been told no more than three times the night before to not be late for.

She picked up her pace as the large skyscraper came into view. She remembered when it used to dazzle her. The first day she'd all but fallen over as her head tilted back, taking in the grandeur of her family's fortune. Granted, it was her extended family, but still, it was pretty impressive. The dazzle had passed, but she still felt the familiar pull at the base of her stomach as she pressed her ID badge against the sensor at the front of the building and walked inside.

She walked quickly to the elevator bay, breathing out a sigh of relief when she spotted Tabitha. Her coworker was in one of her arguably inappropriate work outfits. She always had low necklines, high hemlines, and just a touch too much makeup. But there was no one who could track an inter-office virus faster than her.

"Why are you late?" Tabitha asked with a knowing smirk. Felicity narrowed her eyes. Yes, she had dinner with Tabitha's friend Mark last night. And, yes, things had gone well, but not that well.

"My alarm in my bedroom where I was very much alone did not go off," Felicity said pointedly.

Tabitha scrunched her nose. "Such a lost opportunity."

"It was one date."

Tabitha shrugged. "So?"

While Felicity was hardly a prude, she was decidedly in the negative camp for whether sex was appropriate on the first date. She liked to know a little more about a person before she let them go rifling through her insides.

"Did you guys have a good time, at least?" Tabitha said after a moment. The elevator doors slid open and the pair walked forward, stepping aside at the last moment to let a hoard of suits walk out. When it was clear they stepped in, Tabitha hitting the button for their floor.

"We did," Felicity said, smiling a bit to herself as she thought about last night. "We really did."

"Really?" Tabitha pressed gamely.

Felicity gave her a look. "Really."

The date had been surprisingly comfortable for someone who'd pretty much been in a monogamous relationship – at least on her side – for a good four or five years. She'd originally suggested going to a restaurant, but he insisted that he cook for her. With some hesitation at the thought of them being alone in his apartment without any distraction or nosy waitress to help fill awkward silences, she'd made up some excuses about not wanting to make him cook on a night off, but he'd insisted. Ultimately she relented and trudged to his apartment on an unseasonably cold Thursday night.

The meal was perfect, and so was he. Hearing from Tabitha about her love for pasta, he'd cooked up some fresh fettucini he took home from his restaurant and paired it with a browned butter sauce, tender kale, and roasted pumpkin seeds. Every bite was absolute perfection, and she was moderately sure that she made sounds and faces that were not entirely appropriate for a dinner table, but he indulged her and didn't comment. If the food was not enough – which it definitely was – conversation flowed easily between them and she found ten o'clock coming before she knew it.

"Does your hybrid turn into a pumpkin at ten o'clock?" he'd teased.

She went to bed that night will a full stomach and full heart.

"He really likes you, you know," Tabitha said leadingly. "I stopped by Nobu to get a free meal off of him… " Felicity smirked, "…and he kept running different pasta dishes past me to make sure he made one you liked. He wanted to do this weird lobster thing, but I think I steered him in the right direction."

"You did," Felicity said, her cheeks flushing when she thought of him waxing and waning over pasta dishes with Tabitha. It had been a while since she'd been with a man who actually cared. Nick hardly could be bothered to put on real pants when they went out.

"So, will there be a second date?" Tabitha asked, gesturing for Felicity to walk out first when the elevator doors slid open.

"I think so," she said, glancing back. "Provided he wants a second date."

"Not even a question," Tabitha said. "He's already planning the second date menu."

They neared the conference room where the meeting was supposed to be taking place, and both hesitated slightly before approaching the doorway. They saw their boss noticeably missing and both of them let out a relieved breath.

Tabitha glanced back at her. "Take those open front seats and pretend we've been here since dawn?"

Felicity nodded curtly. "Sounds about right."

Oliver always loved Thanksgiving. It started as a kid, when he'd be seated in the ornate Queen dining room – a part of the house that him and Thea only dared tread during the holidays – eyes going wide as he saw the platters piled high with food set on the table in front of him. He always ate too much, taking to the couch afterwards to nurse his rolling stomach and post-turkey-fatigue.

But not this year.

"Your parents are skipping out on Thanksgiving?" Tommy said. "Well, that's shitty."

"Technically they're not skipping out," Oliver said. "We're supposed to be all spending it in Paris. But, why would you want to spend Thanksgiving away from home?"

Tommy shrugged. "You got me. So, are you going it alone?"

He shook his head. "Thea's staying back, too. We'll probably do something small."

"You guys are more than welcome to join my family. Granted, we're bat shit crazy, but the food is usually pretty good."

Oliver grinned. "Your family is not crazy. They're not the ones flying off to Paris for arguably the most American holiday there is."

"Do not judge until you have spent an entire meal with them," Tommy said with a sage tone that did not exactly match the words.

"I'll take your word for it."

"Really, though. Spend Thanksgiving with us. The idea of you and Thea eating takeout at your house is depressing."

"I was going to have Rosa make us dinner."

"She has her own family, Oliver. Come spend it with your second one."

"I can bring it up to Thea," Oliver relented.

Tommy grinned wide, knowing full well that he had him. Thea loved the Merlyn family and had announced on more than one occasion over the years that she would happily be adopted by them.

"Guests bring desserts," Tommy advised him.

"I haven't said yes yet."

"Apple would be good," Tommy continued. "We didn't have it last year. Total bullshit, right? What's Thanksgiving without apple pie?"

Oliver shrugged. Tommy had a point.

"Is Felicity going to be at dinner?" Oliver asked casually. Or at least he thought he had. Tommy smirked and said, "Of course. She's family."

"I just didn't know if she was maybe going back to spend Thanksgiving with her parents or something."

Tommy shook his head. "Her mom's flying out here."

"They don't live here?" he asked in confusion.

"No, she moved near Central City for a job a few years back and has been out there ever since."

Oliver noticed Tommy was using all female pronouns, effectively leaving Felicity's dad out of what he was telling him. Gingerly he asked, "What about her dad?"

"He's been gone for as long as I can remember," Tommy said.

"I didn't know that," Oliver said, trying to discern if it meant something or nothing at all that Felicity had never mentioned it to him.

"Don't feel bad," Tommy said, reading into his silence. "Felicity never talks about her dad. He left when she was a baby."

"That's a shame."

"Not really," Tommy said. "The way I see it, she deserves better than someone who ran out on her."

"She does deserve someone better," Oliver echoed.

"So, yes, she will be there. And, if you play your cards right, I might just seat you two next to each other."

Oliver snorted.

"Don't underestimate the highly charged nature of seating arrangements. You two reach for the same water goblet. Your hands brush. She pulls away and blushes like only Felicity can blush." Oliver gave him a look. "You sputter apologies. Because you have absolutely no game around her, by the way."

"I think I liked it better when you didn't want us together," Oliver said darkly.

Tommy waved his had dismissively, rather enjoying his foray into matchmaking.

"I'm telling you, there are a lot of moments you can capitalize on during a holiday."

"You keep plotting, Yenta," Oliver said glibly, walking over to the kitchen table and grabbing his coat. "I'm going to run out to the store."

"I can make this happen, Oliver!" he called after him. "Thanksgiving can make this happen!"

The second date was roasted herbed chicken with crispy smashed red potatoes, pan-seared Brussels sprouts with pancetta, and the most velvety chocolate mousse Felicity had ever tasted. She didn't think their first date could be beat, but he went ahead and proved her wrong.

"I want to bathe in this chocolate mousse," Felicity said off-handedly, scooping up the last bits of chocolate mousse in her dish. She looked up and murmured, "That's weird isn't it? I take it back."

Mark laughed. "Not weird at all. I consider people wanting to bathe in my food the highest compliment."

Felicity grinned wide. "Well, then I want to bathe in this entire meal. Seriously, you outdid yourself. I thought that pasta last week was the top, but this is even better."

"I'm glad you enjoy it. I want you to take the leftovers home with you."

"You won't hear me complaining," she said, licking the back of her spoon. "So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?"

"Pizza and my couch," he said.

She looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"My family doesn't do Thanksgiving. We're dispersed so much across the country, it's too hard for us to get together. So, we call each other to wish a happy Thanksgiving, and then we do our own thing."

Felicity had never heard anything more depressing. She glanced over at his couch. It didn't even look that comfortable. Impulsively, she blurted out, "You should come with me to my Thanksgiving dinner."

"I wouldn't want to crash in on your dinner," he said. "I actually really like my low key night. There are usually some pretty good movies on TV. No one's ordering pizza, so the delivery is fast."

"I can't even handle how sad this all sounds," Felicity said in a low voice.

Mark laughed. "Really, it's fine. It's my tradition, I guess."

"Break tradition," she said, leaning forward. "Spend Thanksgiving with me."

"I don't know your family. They don't know me-"

"There's no time like the present," she pressed. "Just bring some fancy chef dish and they'll love you."

He hesitated. "Are you sure they won't mind?"

"Positive," she said. "All of them pretty much hated my ex, so they'll be happy to see a new face. The sole fact that you aren't him will be points in your favor."

"What, were you dating a convict or something?" Mark asked with a disbelieving shake of his head.

Felicity grinned. "Please say yes."

Mark settled back into his chair, studying her face. After a moment he smiled a bit and said, "Okay. Yes."

Thanksgiving was a busy time in the Merlyn household, and this year was no different. While their cook did most of the cooking and their maid did the cleaning, there was still a frenetic energy rippling through the house. Tommy worked on mixing himself a manhattan, trying to ignore his father's booming voice one room over.

Oliver strolled in, Thea in his wake, and the latter sidled up to Tommy and asked, "You want to make me one of those?"

He looked down at her and quipped, "Oh, did you turn twenty one when I wasn't looking?"

"Come on," she sighed. "It's not like I'm driving. You can go light on the whiskey." She considered this for a moment and then added, "Not too light, though. You have to preserve the integrity of the drink."

Tommy laughed. "The integrity of the drink? Okay, you know what, I'll make you something."

He reached into the stocked bar and mixed toghether 7-up and grenadine. He plopped in a few maraschino cherries and then handed it to her.

"There you go, a Shirley temple. A nice age appropriate drink."

Thea glared at him. "Very funny, Tommy."

"I think so." He turned his attention to Oliver and asked, "What about you, buddy?"

"Whiskey neat," he said. The door opened in foyer and Oliver turned his head, looking at the front door. He wished he hadn't looked because there was Felicity, looking absolutely beautiful wrapped up in her red coat and scarf, and next to her was a tall blonde. He must be Mark, the guy she'd gone on a few dates with. He was wearing a well-tailored trench coat and his dark blonde hair was tousled in a way that suggested product. Oliver watched him help Felicity out of her coat and then turned around before he could see any more.

Tommy had seen all of this, too, and he poured Oliver a double, handing it to him without a word. Oliver took a large mouthful, wincing as the liquid burned his throat.

"Is that your cousin Felicity?" Thea asked Tommy. She'd heard a lot about her but hadn't seen her before.

"Yeah."

"And her boyfriend?" Thea asked. Not waiting for a response she added, "He is super cute. Great hair."

"You really think so?" Oliver asked, taking another peek.

"Oh yeah," Thea said, nodding appreciatively. "Really great hair."

Felicity and Mark walked over, Felicity positively beaming while Mark had the grace to look marginally uncomfortable. Good, Oliver thought, he should feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Hi guys," Felicity said, smiling wide. "This is Mark."

"Nice to meet you," Tommy said.

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Oliver said with a tight grin. Felicity gave him a strange look and then turned her attention to his sister.

"Let me guess, you're Thea," Felicity said. "I have heard so much about you."

"Me too," Thea said. "I'm happy to finally meet you. I was half convinced Oliver was making you up."

Oliver shot his sister a look that she promptly ignored. "It was all Felicity this, Felicity that," Thea continued, "I'm happy to see you aren't imaginary."

"For the record, I haven't had an imaginary friend since I was six," Oliver interjected.

"You had an imaginary friend?" Felicity said in a small voice. "That's adorable."

"So, what do you guys want to drink?" Tommy asked. "The bartender is at your service."

"You're here to avoid actually talking to people, aren't you?" Felicity asked knowingly.

"Yep," Tommy said, not even trying to deny that he was hiding from his family. "Aunt Shira already commented on Heather's weight gain." Felicity winced. "Yeah, so I figured it was safer to hide behind the bar."

"Has Brian started going off about how Thanksgiving is a holiday about us slaughtering people yet?" Felicity asked. Tommy shook his head and she glanced up at Mark as she quipped, "Well, then we haven't missed any of the truly good stuff."

Thea had been watching the exchange with wide eyes and breathed out, "Your guys' Thanksgiving is so much better than ours."

Tommy grinned. "So, seriously, what do you want to drink?"

"I'll have a whiskey sour," Mark said. Beside him Felicity said, "Red wine, please."

"You want me to just give you the bottle now?" Tommy teased. "Save you a few trips back here?"

"Very funny," she said drily. "And no, one glass is fine. I have to drive this one home." She knocked her elbow lightly against Mike's arm.

"You drove?" Oliver asked in surprise.

"I don't have a car," Mark explained. "I like to use public transportation. It's better for the environment."

Oliver's baseless dislike of him grew.

"Well, if you happen to have one glass too many I can drive you home," Oliver told Felicity. He glanced at Mark and added, "And I can drop you off at the nearest bus stop."

Felicity stared at him while Tommy snorted.

Mark feigned a convivial grin and returned, "That's very considerate of you."

"I just look out for the people I care about."

"Oh look, our drinks are ready," Felicity said in a shrill voice, picking the drinks up from the bar. She handed Mark his drink and said, "Well, we're going to make the rounds. Tommy, is my mom somewhere around here?"

"Yeah."

"Good, well I'll go find her."

She took a hold of Mark's arm and pulled him out of the room. Tommy watched them go and murmured, "Way to mark you territory, Oliver."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Oliver returned easily.

"You practically peed on her," Tommy said.

Thea, who had not been privy to the earlier conversations of a similar sort, glanced between the two and then blurted out, "Wait, you like her?"

At the same time Oliver said, "No" and Tommy said, "Yes."

"Oh my God, you're lying. Which means you do like her," Thea enthused. She looked at Tommy. "He likes her, right?"

"Big time," Tommy said.

"I'm going to go say hi to your dad," Oliver said in a tight voice. "Thank him for having Thea and I over for dinner."

"Just follow the dulcet tones of his drunken ranting," Tommy said.

Oliver headed off and Thea rested her hands on the bar, leaning in toward Tommy.

"So, how are we going to get rid of the guy?" she asked.

"You're scheming on Thanksgiving?"

"Every day is a day for scheming," she told him firmly. "Especially when it's for my brother's happiness. So again, what do we do about the guy?"

Tommy grinned. "I have a few ideas."

"It's ridiculous. We celebrate a holiday where we basically showed up and murdered, raped, and pillaged the native people. And then, what do we do to the ones who stood up and survived? We pack them away in some small bullshit plot of land and make it look like some altruistic gesture. We're letting them preserve their culture. Yeah, right. The only thing we're preserving is our dominance."

Mark and Felicity stared at Brian, the giver of what would surely be only the beginning of a day-long rant.

"So, um, I still didn't really get where you're from," Mark said after a moment. Felicity choked down an inappropriate laugh beside him.

"Covington," Brian said. "It's about forty minutes from here."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yeah."

"Oh, Mark, I see someone you need to meet," Felicity said smoothly, looping her arm through his. "Brian, we'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure."

They walked off, Felicity pressing her mouth against his shoulder as she tried to keep her laughter at bay.

"So, that's your cousin Brian," Mark said.

"He's a handful," she said. "That was actually a pretty mild rant. Usually they're a lot more graphic in the depiction of the murdering, raping, and pillaging."

"Huh. I sort of feel like I was jipped in the rant department now."

"We can go back," she said innocently. "I'm sure he'd be happy to elaborate."

"You know, I think I'm good with what I got," he said.

Someone came up to Mark, laying a hand on his arm. "Excuse me, you're the chef right?"

Felicity recognized her as the Merlyn's cook.

Mark nodded in surprise. "Um, yeah. That's me."

"Can I borrow you for a moment? There's a gravy situation happening in the kitchen."

"A gravy situation?" Mark repeated. "Well, that sounds ominous." He glanced over at Felicity and said, "It looks like duty calls."

"Do you mind?" she asked tentatively. She didn't bring him here to cook.

"Yeah, it's fine," he said. "I'll just find you later?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I'll find you later."

She watched him walk away, unaware of Tommy and Thea standing off to the side of the room, giving each other a high five. She stood alone in the middle of the room, taking a sip of her wine.

"Where'd your chef go?"

She turned around, drawing her wine glass to her chest as she looked up at Oliver.

"He's helping out in the kitchen."

"Oh, how helpful of him."

She pressed her wine glass against his chest and said, "Whatever problem you have with him, please just get over it. It's uncomfortable."

She pulled her wine glass back and took a sip.

"I don't have a problem with him."

She laughed humorlessly. "Oh, you don't? Then what the hell was before? The whole dropping him off at a bus stop thing?"

"I was joking," Oliver said. She looked unconvinced and he repeated, "It was a joke."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, you don't have to like him. Whatever. But, you have to be nice to him. I really like him."

"Oh, you do?" he said. "You really like him?"

"Yes," she said angrily. "Why is this so surprising to you?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you've known him for, what, two minutes?"

"Two weeks," she corrected heatedly. "And who cares how long I've known him? Why should that have any bearing on whether or not I like him?"

"I'm just saying, you don't know him that well."

"I'm not having this conversation," she said. "Especially not with you."

She turned and walked away from him, drawing a few looks as she stalked off. Tommy came up to him and asked, "What the hell did you say to her?"

"Nothing," Oliver said, jaw ticking as he frowned.

The next part of Tommy and Thea's attack was the seating arrangement. Malcolm, showing typical type-A behavior, always had a rigid seating chart with little place cards directing people to their proper seat. There was no changing seats. No shifting the plan he set. Most were wary to cross him, but Tommy did not suffer from that particular affliction.

He crept into the dining room, stealing a glance behind him, and deftly switched Oliver and Mark's place cards. Oliver, who previously was seated at the clear other side of the table from Felicity was now seated beside her. Tommy, having a last moment of brilliance, moved one of his chattier aunts next to Mike. He liked the guy for most intents and purposes – save for the fact he was getting in the way of his best friend and cousin getting together – so he didn't want him to have to sit through dinner in silence. Aunt May would get him talking and keep him talking.

When it was dinnertime they all walked into the dining room, Malcolm making the usual overtures that people should sit where their name card was placed. Tommy nudged Thea's arm as he walked past her and tilted his head toward where Oliver and Felicity were standing beside each other, glancing down at their place cards.

"Well done," she said under her breath.

Felicity wished she could move – her previous interaction with Oliver leaving her feeling rather cold toward him – but she knew better than to mess with the seating at Thanksgiving. There was one Aunt who was actually barred from coming to dinner after switching her seat several years in a row. Malcolm was deadly serious about his seating arrangement.

Mark was on the completely opposite end of the table where even a proper raised voice wouldn't reach him over the din of eating and conversation. Thankfully Aunt May was next to him. She'd keep him part of conversation. She gave him a sort of apologetic wave and he smiled back, shaking his head as though to tell her it was okay.

"I wonder why Malcolm put your date all the way over there?" Donna Smoak said with a disgruntled sniff. "Seems strange to me."

"It's fine. He's a good talker."

"Well, that's good." She leaned forward a bit and smiled toward Oliver. "I don't think we've met. I'm Donna Smoak."

"Your Felicity's mother," he said in recognition. He saw then that they shared the same wide eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Oliver Queen."

"Oliver! Well, I've heard all about you."

Oliver felt a certain sense of satisfaction at knowing Felicity had told her mother about him.

"Hopefully all good things," he said smoothly.

"Not right now," Felicity murmured under breath.

"What was that, sweetie?" Donna said.

"Nothing but good things," Felicity said crisply, unfolding and then refolding her napkin on her lap.

Most of the food was already on the table, save for the turkey. Malcolm walked out with the turkey on an impressive platter, applause meeting him as he set it down on the table. The table watched as he carved the first piece. Just like every year, after the formal first cut was made the bird went back in the kitchen to be fully carved and served.

"Maybe one year he will actually carve it at the table," Donna said in a soft voice, giving her daughter a look. Felicity grinned and returned, " I wouldn't bet on it."

"So, Oliver, I hear that you run Verdant with Tommy," Donna said, working to engage Oliver in conversation. Seated between them, Felicity wished she would try less.

"I do, yes."

"Is it a lot of work? I'd imagine it would be quite the drain."

"It was a lot of work when we started," Oliver said. "It's leveled off a bit now. We have a good following. But it definitely has its moments."

Felicity reached for her water goblet just as Oliver did the same, their hands brushing. She pulled back quickly, a jolt running up her spine. She glanced over at Oliver, taken aback by the stricken look on his face.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I…I think that's mine. It's the one on the right, I think?"

"You're right," he said, swallowing hard.

Across the table Tommy murmured, "Called it."

The dinner was absolute torture. Felicity should have been paying attention to her date across the table, making sure he was having a good time, but instead her focus kept being pulled to Oliver. She could feel every shift he made, and then his arm would brush hers sometimes and he'd sputter these apologies. And, of course, her mother kept talking with him. His face would turn toward her then, his warm breath inadvertently bathing her face as he spoke to her mother. She pressed herself against the back of her chair, trying to distance herself from him, but there was no point. She started to think he might be jus as inescapable if he was across the table.

She liked Mark. He was nice. He was a chef. He treated her well and agreed to her crazy idea that he go to a Thanksgiving dinner with her after only two dates. She kept reminding herself of all of this. Mark was a good catch. But, her mind would wander. Suddenly, rudely, she was back on that couch in Oliver and Tommy's apartment, Oliver's hands pushed under her shirt and his mouth against her neck. She watched him lick his dry lips as he spoke with her mother and nearly lost it right there.

This was ridiculous. She was supposed to be mad at him, not lusting after him. She grabbed her wine and drained the rest of the deep red liquid. Her hands itched for a third glass, but she knew it would render driving unwise, and she didn't want to end up in a car with Oliver.

"Excuse me," she said suddenly, pushing her chair back from the table and standing up. She rushed from the table, needing fresh air. She walked out onto the patio, the cold November air cooling her skin and her libido. She reached up and smoothed her hair, taking slow, measured breaths.

She leaned against the brick wall, closing her eyes. They drifted open when she heard the French door slide open and close again. Oliver settled beside her on the wall. He slipped off his suit jacket and coaxed it around her shoulders.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"I got a little overheated," she said. "It's warm in there, isn't it?"

"Not really," he said.

"It was warm," she held. "So, I just needed some fresh air."

They were both silent for a long moment, the cold air whistling in the silence. She felt him shift beside her and then he said, "I'm sorry that I upset you earlier."

"It's okay," she said. "I'm sorry I got so incensed. I…I don't know."

"What is it?"

She turned her head toward him and asked, "Why were saying all that stuff before? About Mark?"

"Felicity-"

"Because you don't know him. You don't. And you don't just attack people like that. So, why did you do it? Why did you say those things?"

Because he was jealous. Because he wanted to be the one her arm. Because he wanted to be the person she introduced to people, and looked up at the way she looked up at Mark, and whispered things to like she whispered things to Mark. He wanted to be her person, but he couldn't say that. Because what if he did, and he hurt her. What if he couldn't be the person that being with her made him feel he could be, and everything was ruined?

Because he was a coward.

Felicity took a deep breath and then let it out. She slipped his coat off and handed it back to her.

"I'm going to go back inside."

She didn't wait for him to respond, walking back inside. Mind set, she walked over to where Mark was seated at the table and asked Aunt May if they could switch seats. Aunt May hesitated, more from surprise than anything else, and then said, "Of course, dear. You sit with your date."

"Thank you, Aunt May."

Felicity sat down, squeezing Mark's knee under the table.

"Miss me?" she asked with a soft grin. She could hear Oliver walk back into the room, but kept her gaze trained on Mark.

"I don't know, your Aunt May is pretty awesome," Mark said. "She met Barbra Streisand?"

"Oh, none of what she told you is true," Felicity told him. "She's a habitual liar."

"Really?"

She nodded. "But it's something that makes her a fun dinner guest. We always like to see how far she'll go."

"Interesting."

Across the table Oliver settled in Felicity's previous seat, Aunt May accidentally taking hers. Donna glanced at him and then over at her daughter on the other end of the table.

"Double chocolate cake," Donna murmured.

Oliver looked at her in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Whatever little argument my daughter and you are in. She responds very well to double chocolate cake. It's how I ended most of our arguments when she was a teenager. And there were many. Arguments that is. And chocolate cakes, I suppose."

"Is that so?"

Donna nodded and then added. "The more frosting the better."

He glanced over at Felicity. "Good to know."

By the next week Felicity had leftover chocolate cake in her refrigerator.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! I would love reviews!