A/N: Okay, boring a/n today, kiddies, because I'm rushing around trying to get the house/animals in order and go to work before I head off for my trip down south. It's going to be about 9hrs driving each way, and I have to visit family and do training while I'm away for that week. All things I enjoy doing, it's just going to be a fairly crammed week… and I hate driving. Just loathe it. So yeah, not looking forward to that.

It also means Hank and Fernando Del Vecchio have free reign of the house, so heaven only knows what I'm going to be coming back to. As long as nothing is on fire, I don't come back to a three toed sloth prostitution ring and the police aren't involved, I guess I'll deal. But yes, that means I'm off the radar for the coming week. I won't get back until late the following Sunday, then I have to work another 2 weeks straight… so don't plan for much coherence coming from me during that time, okay? Good.

Okay, gotta run… then drive… then run again, so I'll leave you with this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it. There has been a lot of exposition of Oliver and Felicity's feelings about one another in the last couple of chapters, and the trend continues with this one. Hope it's not too boring for you, but I have to justify where my characters are at, so that means exposition of their head spaces.

See you all in a week…

CHAPTER TWELVE

Diggle walked out of the coffee shop with two coffees and already half way through the sandwich he'd just bought. Another lunch hour on the run, at least for him. He'd just finished doing some initial recon on the first person on Felicity's list, the inappropriately named dentist. Diggle had dropped Oliver at his lunch meeting, and had just returned to pick him up again. It seemed that the younger man was in no great rush to get back to the office though, which was fine by him. Diggle was starving and was glad of a chance to quickly grab some food. He glanced up and down the street, looking for Oliver and spotted him across the road, standing in front of a jewelry shop. He crossed the road and came to stand beside his friend, taking in the way he was intently looking through the window. "In case you're wondering, I like my Rolex's in gold."

"I'll take that under advisement," murmured Oliver, still distracted by the display in the window.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

Oliver sent him a hasty sideways glance. "Ah, well, you know Thea… Christmas isn't that far away."

Diggle looked through the window to what had captured the other man's attention so intensely. "Those are engagement rings," he pointed out. "Now, I don't know what the etiquette was like on that island on yours, but here in the good old U.S of A, we're still not down with the whole marrying your sister thing." Diggle's lips quirked. "Just thought I should point that out in case it made for some awkward family dinners with you and Thea in the future."

Oliver sent him an unamused look. "I'm not looking at engagement rings for Thea," he said flatly. "Obviously."

"But you are looking at engagement rings," noted Diggle. "And I'm kind of guessing that I'm not your type, and that pretty much leaves only one other person you could possibly be thinking about when you're looking at those rings."

Oliver looked a little flustered. "I was just walking by, they caught my eye. I'm not thinking anything."

"It's you, Oliver, you're always thinking something."

"It's way too soon to be even considering asking Felicity to marry me," said Oliver unevenly. "I'm not doing that."

"Aha."

"I'm not. I was just waiting for you to get back, and happened to be in front of a jewelry shop. It could have just as easily been a bakery."

Diggle arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, but there really isn't such a thing as an engagement bagel, I don't care how Jewish Felicity is."

Oliver's unamused expression didn't waver. "In case you're wondering, you're not funny."

"Maybe you just don't get my jokes?"

"Maybe you should stick to what you're good at." Oliver gave him an intent look. "Did you take care of our pest problem?"

"Mr. Caltabiano is on our 'no fly' list with Security now. Plus, I've told them that no one is to get up to your office without your express say so. All phones calls will also go through the head of security. If they're not a known associate of Queen Consolidated and are able to verify that, they won't get put through to your office."

"Good," said Oliver tightly. "I don't want a repeat of this morning."

"Either do I. Felicity's my girl too, you know."

"I know," said Oliver, sounding happy about that. He shot a sideways look at Diggle. "Oh, by the way, I just have to say… Diggle Town?"

"Yes, Diggle Town," said Diggle unapologetically, "and you're looking at the Mayor, Sheriff and Judge. You got a problem with that?"

"That's a lot of badges," noted Oliver wryly.

"I've got the chest to pin them on."

"Really, cause I've always pictured you more as a sash kinda guy."

"Stop picturing me in sashes. Isn't it enough you're facing down a potential sexual harassment suite from Mrs. Steinman?"

"Don't flatter yourself. Just because one handsie billionaire is desperate to get into your pants, doesn't mean we all are. Your charms aren't that all-encompassing."

Diggle smiled, taking Oliver's playful dig in his stride. "Just what is it exactly you've got against Bunny anyways?"

Oliver scowled at him. "You mean aside from him playing house in the nerve center of our private business? The lair is nothing but wall to wall throw cushions and hair products since he moved in."

"You're exaggerating." Diggle paused. "Maybe not about the cushions. The man does love his throw cushions, but I get it, it's that change thing of yours."

Oliver's brow furrowed even more. "What change thing of mine?"

"Change," said Diggle easily. "You're not great with it."

"Yes, I am," said Oliver hotly.

"You're really not." He cocked his head. "How do you not know this about yourself?"

"Because it's not true," said Oliver in agitation. "Out on the street I'm always adapting to my situation."

"That's out on the street. In your private life you like your routines." Diggle took a sip of his coffee. "Mondays is working on your abs and arms, followed by Thai food. Tuesdays is cardio day, followed by Thai food again, but from a different place. You usually eat it when you do your washing. I'm not throwing shade, man. I get it. You like patterns and order because for a long time you lived in chaos. I'm just saying that you don't like people messing with your systems, puts you on edge."

"I don't have OCD or anything," said Oliver hotly. "I can vary my routines anytime I want."

"Yeah, but you don't. In fact I'd hazard a guess that until this conversation, it never even occurred to you to do such a thing."

"Oh, so what, you can read my mind now?"

"I'm going to go ahead and take that as a confirmation of my theory unless you come up with something compelling in the next five seconds to sway my opinion."

Oliver glared at him. "Your theory sucks."

"Yeah, okay, not compelling at all. More like grasping at straws."

"I'm not justifying how I choose my life to you," said Oliver tersely.

"That is a correct summation of this conversation," said Diggle, unable to help himself from needling Oliver just a little bit more. "You're being totally unconvincing." He eyed the rings in the window. "Particularly when it comes to your so-called casual disinterest in engagement rings all of a sudden."

Oliver looked back at the rings. "You think I'm crazy?" he asked, voice hardening.

"You put on green leather and run around the city shooting arrows at the bad guys," said Diggle easily. "I think it's safe to say I don't think you're not not crazy."

Oliver turned to look at him. "You know what I mean," he said sharply. "And you run around the city with me."

"Not in leather, and not with a bow and arrow." Diggle tilted his head and regarded Oliver steadily for a moment. "Are you seriously asking me what I think about this?"

"Yes," said Oliver quietly.

"What if I said I disapproved the hell out of even the idea of you asking Felicity to marry you?" he asked curiously.

Oliver's jaw hardened and his head came up. "I'd tell you to go to hell," he growled.

"So, not so much looking for a devil's advocate here," said Diggle wryly.

Oliver was staring at him. "Would you really have a problem with this?"

Diggle pursed his lips. "Do you remember about a month ago, when we were testing the suit out at the old docks?"

"You mean where I almost crushed Felicity to death, and then was poisoned by noxious gas which turned me into a psychotic love sick killing machine, and you were shot at by heavily armed men chasing you down in vans?" Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Vaguely."

"Before all the fun and games began, you were telling me about your almost moment with Felicity and remember what I told you? I said to make up your mind, all in or all out." Diggle gave a little shrug. "I can't really say much when that's obviously what you've done." His lips quirked. "Although, I will say this. What's tonight going to be? A week of dating? Excuse me, trial dating."

"Eleven days," Oliver muttered.

"Okay, eleventh." Diggle took another sip of his coffee. "I can't help but feel being in a relationship with you would be like being a passenger in a high performance drag car. You go from standing perfectly still to a warp speed within fifty feet which leaves your heart in your mouth, stomach back at the starting line and possibly a little pee in your pants."

"You're quite the wordsmith, aren't you?" asked Oliver acerbically.

"It's fast, Oliver, that's all I'm saying and have said more than once to you before. Weren't you the one who told me that you promised Felicity that you could take this as slow as she needed to?"

"I know," said Oliver in frustration, "and I'm trying."

"You're looking at engagement rings after less than two weeks of not even proper dating," said Diggle. "You may need to try a little harder."

"It's proper dating," said Oliver sharply. "Felicity just wants to call it trial dating because-because—"

"She's worried about going too fast?" offered up Diggle innocently. "She's worried about what is at stake, and wants to make sure that you really know what you want before giving herself to you completely to potentially destroy."

"Felicity doesn't need to worry about any of those things when it comes to me," said Oliver fiercely.

"Clearly she doesn't agree."

Oliver made a frustrated noise, and abruptly turned back to the window. "I thought you were on my side, that you thought a relationship between Felicity and me was a good thing."

Diggle could see Mr. Throbby pounding away in the other man's forehead. He sighed, understanding Oliver's vexation but also understanding the delicacy of the situation. "I'm on both of your sides, I want to see this work out between you two. That's why I'm just cautioning you that an engagement ring, this early in the proceedings, when Felicity clearly still has some reservations, may not be the smartest move you can make."

"You think I don't know that?" asked Oliver quietly, still staring sightlessly into the jeweler's window.

"Okay, then why—"

"We're not sleeping together, Felicity hasn't told me she loves me out loud…"

"So, what, you were thinking an engagement ring might change both of those things?"

Oliver's head snapped around, and he glared fiercely up at him. "No," he said sharply. "How can you even ask me something like that? I don't want to bribe Felicity into my bed or into saying that she loves me."

"Then I may need to buy a vowel here? Why the sudden interest in engagement rings when you'd both agreed to go slowly?"

Oliver stared down into his cup of coffee, not seeming that interested in drinking any of the dark brown liquid. "Felicity took me on a date the other night… we played miniature golf," he said abruptly.

"I know."

"I suck at it."

"I heard. Felicity reenacted her little 'in your face' dance and everything when she told me."

A little smile came to Oliver's lips. "I love that dance."

"It was quite the sight," agreed Diggle in amusement. There was just something so infectious about the enthusiasm with which Felicity threw herself into things, and the way she experienced life. It should have made him feel jaded by comparison, but it never did. "She wasn't very kind about your golfing prowess at the time."

"With good reason," said Oliver easily. "I mean, I really blow." He frowned a little. "I think it penalizes tall people, the clubs are too short or something."

"Yeah, that'll be it."

Oliver looked directly at him. "When we first met, did you ever picture me as a guy who'd go and do something like miniature golf just for the sheer fun of it?"

"I think that's a resounding no on that one," said Diggle calmly. The young man he'd met, once he'd gotten past the thin veneer of irresponsible Ollie, had been angry, bitter and untrusting of everyone and everything.

"Right," said Oliver seriously. "That guy who came back from those five years in hell… I didn't like that guy but I thought I needed to be him to make a difference, to survive, and set the wrongs of my father right."

"Your father didn't want you to survive, Oliver," said Diggle quietly. "He wanted you to live. Those are two very different things."

Oliver gave a lopsided smile. "I know… at least, I do now. It took me a while to work it out, but the reality is, when I'm with Felicity, that's when I'm alive and living life."

"I know," said Diggle softly.

"The thing with Felicity is I get to be totally myself." Oliver paused, clearing warming to his subject. "But also not myself. When I'm with Felicity I don't have to be this broody, angst-driven product of my past. I'm just a guy laughing and enjoying life." He briefly closed his eyes. "And it feels amazing, John. I've never had this with another woman. She knows and understands both sides of me – the one who needs to protect this city and the people in it and the guy who sucks at miniature golf but can laugh about it. I don't have to be one or the other with her, I can be both." Oliver's expression was very intent. "How can I not want to marry the person who makes that possible? I want it all with Felicity, the whole nine yards. I want to wake up every day next to her, to know I'm the last man she'll ever kiss, the only man who has her heart," said Oliver earnestly. "I want her to want to take a chance on me, and I want more than anything to prove her right for taking that chance. I want to be able to tell her I love her and always will, and she doesn't doubt that I mean it." He gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "I want to marry Felicity, Digg. I love her. I know it's fast in one way, but in another, it's not really. We've known each other for nearly three years, and a lot of big things have happened in that time. That escalates a relationship. What we've seen each other through in that time… it doesn't matter that we weren't dating during that time, we were together, and that gives our relationship a depth way beyond eleven days of trial dating."

Diggle gave Oliver a considered look after his emotional outburst. "Can I just say that for a man who just told me that you weren't thinking about marriage… you've given this a lot of thought."

"I hadn't coherently thought about Felicity and marriage," said Oliver a little unevenly. "It was more just a stream of consciousness thing when I came out of the XR-320 fog and knew I couldn't fool myself any longer that friendship was enough for me with her. There was just a part of me that knew we'd get there eventually but then…"

"But then what?"

"But then today I was talking to someone, and they just kind of made me realize that I had to make that happen. Everything feels so natural with Felicity. I don't know, it was like I was expecting to wake up one day, and just find ourselves married." Oliver fixed him with a vaguely worried look. "That's not something that happens."

"Unless you're in Vegas," noted Diggle idly. "If Hollywood is to be believed, that happens quite a lot."

"Yeah, well, we're not in Vegas, and I want to be married to Felicity Smoak, and that means an engagement ring," said Oliver determinedly. "It doesn't mean I'm looking at proposing tomorrow. I know Felicity needs more time to get used to all of this, to trust me properly as a romantic partner, and I'm fine with that."

Diggle's look became a little skeptical.

"Okay… fine with occasional outbursts of nerves and anxiety," he backtracked. "But mostly I'm fine with it." Oliver pressed his lips together tightly. "Is it really so bad that I'd like to have something concrete to hold onto, to have that security of knowing that when the time is right, I'm ready to ask Felicity to marry me?"

Diggle smiled, touched by the vulnerable sincerity he could hear in Oliver's voice. "No," he said evenly, "that's not so bad." Diggle inclined his head a little towards the jewelers. "Guess we're going ring shopping."

Oliver grinned. "Just to look. Probably won't find anything, but it doesn't hurt to look, right?"

"Right."

Oliver looked at the coffee in his hand. "We'd better finish these quickly. There is no food or drink allowed in the shop."

"Oliver, you're a billionaire looking to drop serious coin in their shop," said Diggle wryly. "I don't think they'd care if you walked in there sucking down a turducken with a chaser of roasted pig, washed down with a keg of gravy."

Oliver's lips twitched. "You're still hungry, aren't you?"

"So hungry," agreed Diggle without hesitation. That sandwich just hadn't cut it.

"Felicity wants onion blossoms and pie, you want a turkey being violated by a duck, who is being violated by a chicken…"

"Never write menus for a restaurant," said Diggle in amusement. "Miniature golf isn't the only thing you suck at."

"My point is half my crew seems to be starving all the time." He arched an eyebrow. "I do pay you enough money to buy food, right?"

"I'm a growing boy… we need a lot of food."

Oliver looked him over skeptically. "Just how much bigger are you planning on getting? You're already the size of a house, two stories at least."

"There's always room for an extension," deadpanned Diggle.

"If Bunny was here, he'd be all over that remark," noted Oliver in vague amusement.

"Lucky for us both that he isn't then, hmm?" Diggle inclined his head towards the jewelry shop. "Shall we?"

Oliver looked at the row of rings in the window, and gave a definite nod of his head. "Absolutely." He headed inside, Diggle following behind, unable to help his smile. There had been days he despaired of Oliver ever getting his head out of his confused ass long enough to realize what he had in Felicity. So much guilt and shame had informed Oliver's every move since returning to Starling City that Diggle wasn't always certain that Oliver would be able to get past that, and actually dare to dream of a life of his own. As he followed his friend into that shop, Diggle couldn't help be very glad things were turning out as they were. At long last Oliver was coming home, now that he'd finally worked out exactly where and who that was.

A/N: So Oliver is looking to put a ring on it! Like there was any doubt about that, but now he might actually have the ring… all he needs is the willing finger… and of course, good timing. I wonder if one of those things is going to be an issue… hmm… quite possibly. ;)

Okay, I'm off on my trip, wish me happy trails and to be blessed by a sense of direction before I set out… better late than never, I guess.