A/N: It appears I may have unintentionally offended some people with my last chapter. It was not my intention to do so.

Takes place after 3x12…My version of the future.

Diggle stood in the middle of the loft, arms crossed looking exasperated. "You're a hard man to find."

"I wasn't aware we were having a team meeting," Oliver replied dryly.

"You can't just disappear and expect us not to go looking for you."

"It was all over Twitter that I was spotted at the hospital."

"Yeah, because following tweets about Oliver Queen is my lifelong passion."

During the exchange Felicity glanced back and forth between the other three members of Team Arrow. Digg was completely focused, intensely so on Oliver, Roy was struggling to hold back an uncharacteristic smile (who knew he could actually do that?), and Laurel's eyes were watching her. And it was beginning to unnerve her.

"Oliver, can you put me down?" She asked quietly.

"My phone died." Oliver continued talking to Diggle, ignoring her plea.

"Since when is the Arrow not available?"

"Oliver, down please." Still nothing.

"Since I've been a bit preoccupied!"

"Oliver!" Felicity exclaimed, pushing on his chest.

"What?"

"Down. Now." She was losing her patience and this "team" conversation had barely begun.

As she had suspected, he'd forgotten he was still holding her in his arms. "The sofa or straight to bed?"

"Just put me down while I still have a shred of my dignity intact."

He capitulated, slowly lowering her feet to the floor. He did not, however let go of her entirely – an arm was banded around her waist, and given their height difference and the flats she was wearing he was stooped over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Any other time it would have been adorably funny. She used every ounce of strength she could muster to pull away from him.

Tentatively she took small steps towards Digg. Her friend needed to be reassured right now and she was the only person who could do that. Digg and Oliver could pound each other with sticks and work out their differences some other time. Unlike in the parking garage she managed a few more steps – four in fact – before her legs gave way and she felt herself crumpling to the floor. Digg caught her before she fell all the way.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Felicity, but you look like hell."

She smiled weakly up at him. "Sweet talker. Always know what to say to make a girl feel special."

Digg cracked a fleeting smile before it was gone and replaced with concern. "Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"Your nose is starting to grow, Smoak," Thea interjected. The girl had moved to stand beside her still grinning boyfriend.

"I will be okay," she assured Digg.

"So it's true then?"

She titled her head. "My being pregnant or the part about me offering my surrogacy services?"

The last of Digg's tension and control slipped and he let out a bark of laugher. "How does it feel to find out your friends have been carrying on a long-term relationship behind your back?"

Felicity swooned in Digg's arms for effect and she drawled in her best Scarlett O'Hara impression. "Fiddle-dee-dee, why I am devastated. Just devastated."

Diggle wrapped both arms around her hugging her tight, something that he rarely did. When he spoke it was a whisper in her ear. "He hurts you, I know exactly where to bury the body."

She chuckled because she knew his words came from a deep place of love, respect and protectiveness. "We're okay, Digg. I promise."

Her legs were shaking and the nausea was rolling over her hard. "Would…would you mind if I sat down? I'm not feeling too steady." She pointed to the stools on the other side of the kitchen island. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Oliver take a step towards her. She waved him off. This was her time to make things right with Digg.

Once she was safely seated and no longer needing someone to hold her up, Digg asked the question that had been hanging over the room since their arrival. "Would someone care to explain what's been going on?"

Felicity let Oliver enlighten their friends about her being sick, the blood, the trip to the ER (minus Jerry's nephew and his revelation about the Arrow), the long hours spent waiting, and finally the diagnosis.

"…bed rest for three weeks. And she's staying here with Thea & I where someone can keep an eye on her. We need to make sure she doesn't sneak off to work or the foundry when our back is turned."

"And what about the gossip article, Oliver?" Laurel finally spoke, her voice strong with resolve. "There is a good case of slander here. You say the word and I will have the petition drawn up and ready to file."

"That won't be necessary." Poor Laurel looked far too disappointed. "But thank you."

"You can't let him get away with this, Oliver!" She replied fiercely.

Him? Felicity frowned. "Are you talking about the I-want-to-remain-anonymous-but-stir-up-trouble so-called family friend? And what was with that? Could he have been any more cryptic? Anyone who knows Oliver knows he likes to do his own thing."

Oliver and Laurel ignored her. "Ollie, we both know who is responsible for this."

"Max Fuller," Oliver growled.

Felicity was startled and instantly she felt her heart beat heavily in her chest. "How…how do you know Fuller?" The nausea was getting stronger by the minute.

Brows raised, Oliver levelled her with an Arrow-like look. "I think I should be the one asking you that question."

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm guessing by your tone that Jerry already spilled the beans."

"A capsulized version I'm sure, but yes. How come you never told me about it?"

Felicity mimicked holding a phone to her ear. "Hello kettle, this is pot calling."

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Everyone's a comedian lately…"

They say the best defense is an offense so Felicity took a page out of an NFL playbook. "I know how I know Fuller but perhaps the question I should be asking you is how do you know Fuller?"

"He slept with his Fiancé at their rehearsal dinner," Laurel replied smugly, arms crossed over her chest. "After all these years Max still hasn't forgiven Ollie. Luckily I found a way to get over it considering he was also dating me at the time."

"Oh, is that what getting over it sounds like?" Felicity couldn't stop the words or the sarcastic tone that erupted from her mouth. She sounded more like Thea than herself. Hormones anyone?

Everyone looked at her shocked (especially Laurel) and awed (Thea) that she'd dared to smart mouth the almighty Black Canary. "What? She needed to hear that."

Laurel suddenly looked so unsure of herself. "I only meant…"

"We all know exactly what you meant, Laurel. And I for one am sick and tired of listening to your not so subtle jabs about how Oliver was before Lian Yu. This isn't the first time over the last couple of months you've said something. And everyone ignores it, lets it pass because God forbid anyone upset the recovering alcoholic who lost her sister. News flash, Laurel, Sara wasn't just your sister. She was my friend – our friend – and there isn't a day that goes by that we don't miss her. So I'm sorry if you don't like it and I'm sorry if it upsets you and I'm sorry if you have a problem with it but I've been at the hospital since early this morning being poked and prodded, had a camera shoved down my throat only to be told that I have to stay in bed for three weeks. So suck it up buttercup!"

It was so quiet in the loft you could've heard a pin drop a mile away.

By the time she'd finished ranting and raving at Laurel she was breathing so hard it sounded like she'd just crossed a marathon finish line. And her stomach was trying to tell her it was bucket time again. She needed the bathroom, like now, and attempted to slide off the bar stool only to end up sprawled on her hands and knees on the floor.

The retching started and she couldn't stop it from coming, couldn't get up off the floor, couldn't…

Someone was calling her name but it sounded so very far away. Her entire chest was heaving from the effort of whatever it was that was so determined to expel from her body. The concrete floor she'd been staring at suddenly disappeared replaced with something white. She reached for whatever it was and held on for dear life. Her brain registered the touch of a soft, cool and distinctly feminine hand pulling the hair back from her face.

"Shhhh… it's okay…" was all she heard before the world went black.

Felicity wasn't sure how long she'd been out for but when she did manage to claw her eyes open the face of Laurel Lance stared down at her.

"Wh…What…?" She struggled to sit up but she felt too weak and quickly fell back against…what she didn't know. It felt like a couch. She looked around and saw the loft fireplace roaring with artificial life. Yup, definitely the couch.

"You've been asleep for almost two hours," Laurel was saying.

Felicity groaned and struggled to remember what had happened before she woke up. "Where's…Oliver?...He…" Her voice sounded rough like sandpaper and her mouth felt like someone had glued it shut (Murmur anyone?).

Laurel tried to hand her a mug but Felicity couldn't sit up on her own to take it. "Here…" She put an arm around Felicity's back and gently lifted her torso, holding the mug to her lips. The water felt cool and refreshing against her parched dry lips.

"Thank you," she croaked grabbing for the mug, wanting more.

"Careful, you don't want to choke."

Felicity downed the remainder of the water revelling in the coolness soothing her sore aching throat. "Who…who knew…puking could…take so much…out of you."

"Not sure anything came up besides some blood and bile. The sight of which freaked Diggle and Roy out so much they wanted to take you back to the hospital."

Felicity closed her eyes. "Please no…"

"Don't worry," Laurel patted her hand. "Ollie convinced them otherwise."

Felicity struggled to sit up but with Laurel's help she managed it. She regarded the other woman and asked a question she'd always wanted the answer to. "Why do you call him Ollie?"

Laurel contemplated her answer. "Old habit I guess. Oliver always said it was Thea who started it when she was little. His name was too much for her to say."

"Oliver is a mouth full. What I mean is, his name…not he himself…because that sounds dirty and I wouldn't know anything about that…what I mean is…Ugh" Felicity dropped her head in her hands. "Why does everything I say sound sexual?" Felicity heard Laurel chuckle. Did she seriously just say…that…in front of The Laurel? She groaned.

"Sara was right, you are cute." Felicity strangled back a gasp and raised her head to look at Laurel surprised. "We didn't have much time before…she was taken again. But she had a soft spot for you and I wonder if she went out of her way to tell me as a sort of warning. A way to let me know not to mess with you."

Laurel's voice had a wistfulness to it Felicity hadn't heard in some time. The last year becoming the Black Canary had taken its toll on her and she suddenly felt bad for yelling at her earlier (yes she remembered that).

"About earlier… I shouldn't have said what I did…"

Laurel grasped both of Felicity's hands and squeezed reassuringly (what was with this team and hand holding?). "Stop. What you said about Ollie was absolutely right. I haven't been very…kind to him these last couple of months. I'm not sure why but things have been different with him and I can feel things changing…and it sort of scares me."

To say Felicity was surprised by Laurel's admission was an understatement. "Oliver will always love you in his own way, Laurel. There's nothing to be scared of unless you were wanting to…get back together…"

"Oh no! That ship has sailed." Laurel laughed then cringed when she realized the double meaning of what she'd just said. "What I mean is…" Both women fell back on the couch laughing, their mirth echoing around the openness of the loft.

And that was how Oliver and Jerry found them, leaning into each other and wiping tears of laughter from their eyes.

"I take it you too have kissed and made up?"

Felicity looked over the back of the sofa to see Jerry with Oliver right behind him a large suitcase in each hand.

"Jerry, it's only three weeks. You didn't need to pack half my apartment."

He waved his hand dismissively. "You never know what you might need. Although I left the sexy lingerie behind. Figured you wouldn't need that. Not right now at least." He winked at her and she saw Oliver (unobserved to Jerry) roll his eyes.

"Jerry…" Oliver barked gesturing towards the stairs leading to the upper level and the bedrooms.

Jerry rolled his eyes at the women. "Such a slave driver. If circumstances were different I would love it." He trounced off up the stairs. Oliver stopped at the bottom and looked at her, the planes of his face dancing in the flicking light of the fireplace.

"Are you okay?" The voice was soft, oh so soft…it sent shivers down her spine despite the warmth of the room.

She nodded, smiling lightly. "Laurel's taking care of me."

He glanced briefly at Laurel, nodding his head in a thank you and then he was gone up the stairs.

"Wow…" Laurel whispered.

"He's a good guy with a good heart," Felicity declared trying to deflect the wonderment Laurel's "wow" had conveyed.

"And he clearly loves you very much." Felicity swung her eyes and met Laurel's. "I know the story, you're just friends. But friends don't look at friends like that."

"It's protective Oliver being all…caring. That's all it is." Unconsciously she laid a hand over her abdomen. "Because of Sweet Pea."

"Congratulations…on the baby. When Thea let the news slip last night I have to admit I was shocked."

What? "L-Last night?"

Laurel frowned. "At the club."

"You were there?"

"Thea invited me. And Oliver wasn't too happy about it either. So don't blame him."

"Oh…Wow."

"By the way…well done." Laurel smiled and it was large and genuine reaching her eyes. "I don't know how you do it. I would be scared out of my mind to get up in front of that many people."

"This coming from the woman who on a nightly basis dresses in black leather and a mask to help protect the city?"

"We all have our strengths."

Felicity nodded, approving. She was feeling strangely comforted having talked to her.

Laurel rose from the couch. "Speaking of which, I need to go suit up for a few hours before heading home. Got a full day of court appearances tomorrow." She placed a hand on Felicity's shoulder. "Don't worry about anything but that baby of yours and taking care of yourself. Team Arrow can manage without you for a while."

Felicity didn't have an opportunity to reply before Laurel was out the door, her coat and purse over her arm.

That was interesting.

Felicity reached for the TV remote and knocked the volume up a couple notches hoping to drown out the noise from upstairs. If it was this loud downstairs so could only imagine how deafening it would have been if she'd agreed to sleep in the spare room.

Felicity groaned. She couldn't take any more excitement right now.

After Laurel had left and Jerry and Oliver returned there'd been a discussion over what to feed Felicity. And that was exactly how it was phrased, like she wasn't there and didn't have a vote. Jerry finally settled on making his famous Mac & Cheese and coincidentally he'd brought all the ingredients with him in case the Queen loft was lacking in groceries. Turns out he'd been right. According to Jerry the fridge had been bare except a small carton of milk, a couple of apples, and a bottle of white wine. Apparently the cupboard was just as bad.

"It's a good thing I brought all the food from your place."

The three of them – Thea was at the club working and Roy was out patrolling with Laurel and Diggle – sat on the couch with Jerry's pasta masterpiece. Normally she'd be in seventh heaven with a bowl of his Mac & Cheese in her lap. But the smell of the water boiling had made her nauseous. She'd played with the cheese covered elbow macaroni trying to make it look like she was thinking of taking a bite when she'd had no intention of doing so.

They saw right through her act and prodded her to try and eat something.

"Do you want to be able to move around on your own without me carrying you everywhere?" Oliver had taunted her, the underlying words "because you don't have the energy of a flea right now" left unspoken.

She'd managed to swallow half a dozen bites. That was all. Jerry insisted it was no problem. The leftovers would be in the fridge for her to eat tomorrow.

Smug you know who…

There'd been another argument after dinner about where Felicity was going to sleep. She'd insisted on staying on the sofa for the night because it was comfortable and if she was honest, there was a TV downstairs. Even if Thea Queen only had basic cable it was better than nothing.

She'd won the dispute after the forkfuls of dinner she'd eaten had come up (thankfully this time she'd made it to the bathroom). Oliver didn't have the heart to argue with her when she was puking her guts out.

So here she was, two in the morning, comfortable on the sectional sofa with half a dozen blankets and enough pillows to make a Maharaja weep trying to watch a movie because sleep was now impossible.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught movement on the stairs – Oliver dressed in grey sweats. He settled beside her, propping his legs up on the coffee table. He looked as tired and fed up as she felt.

"I would ask if it was the TV that woke you but we both know the answer to that question."

Oliver groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry about this. I should have asked her to stay at Roy's tonight."

Felicity snorted. "I'm pretty sure we'd still be able to hear them from the Glades."

As if on cue the moaning and groaning from the bedroom upstairs got much louder. It had a rhythmic quality that anyone over the age of thirteen could identify. The sound crescendo-ed then abruptly stopped.

Oliver's head dropped back over the edge of the sofa. "Thank – "

Felicity held a hand up. "Just wait. They're not done."

Sure enough the banging started next – a headboard against a wall to be sure.

"Oh God…" Oliver groaned. "Make it stop."

"Oh God…Don't stop!" The younger Queen pleaded from upstairs.

Felicity giggled. "It's cute how in tune you are with your sister."

Oliver glared at her. "This isn't funny."

"Oh believe me, I know. I've had a front row seat to all three rounds. Speaking of which, how have you managed to sleep through the first two?"

"Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"They've been back together for what, three months now? How have you managed to sleep at all since then?"

"If Roy stays over, I sleep at the foundry."

That explained how Thea hadn't noticed that Oliver never made it home that night six weeks ago.

"Can't you talk to her? Tell her to keep it down? I can't live like this for three weeks. I would be better off at my place if this goes on every night."

"Oh, believe me Thea and I will be having a little brother sister chat later about boundaries."

"Just as long as she doesn't forget to upgrade your internet, your cable package, order the Netflix she promised me, and have the DVR installed."

"Since when have you become so demanding?" He smirked at her.

"Since I'm being held captive against my will. I demand the comforts of home if I have to stay."

He tore his eyes away from her and focused on the TV strategically hanging on the wall above the fireplace. "So what are you watching?"

"Some Like it Hot – one of my all-time favourites."

Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis were currently running away from the parking garage where they'd just witnessed a mob hit.

"Never seen it."

"Why am I not surprised…"

"What's it about?" Felicity brought him up to speed on the beginning he'd missed.

A scream erupted from Thea's bedroom and Felicity sagged in relief. "I swear that kid better not be ready to go for another round because I don't think I can take it."

"You and me both," Oliver muttered.

Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis were teetering down the train platform dressed as women. Jack stumbled in his heels.

"What's the matter now?"

"How do they walk in these things, huh? How do they keep their balance?"

"It must be how the weight is distributed. Now c'mon."

"It is so drafty! They must be catching cold all the time."

"Will you quit stalling we're going to miss the train."

"I feel naked. I feel like everybody's staring at me."

"With those legs are you crazy? Now c'mon."

"Uh oh…"

"It's no use we're never going to get away with this Joe."

"The name is Josephine and this was your idea in the first place."

Marilyn came sauntering past them, hips shaking, the steam train whistling as she passed.

"Look at that! Look how she moves. Just like jello on springs. Must have some kind of built in motor or something. I tell you it's a whole different sex."

Felicity laughed. "Jack Lemmon is the best."

They watched the movie mostly in silence with the exception of a laugh from her part. Oliver might never admit it but she caught him smiling a lot, especially at Jack's character Daphne/Gerry and his/her relationship with the millionaire Osgood Fielding.

Then the ending came.

"This is my favourite part. Best last line in a movie…ever."

Sugar and Joe were kissing in the back of Osgood's motor boat. The camera switched to Daphne/Gerry and Osgood in the front.

"I called MaMa. She was so happy she cried. She wants you to have her wedding gown. It's white lace."

"Osgood, I can't get married in your Mother's dress. She and I…We are not built the same way."

"We can have it altered."

"Oh no you don't. Osgood….I'm goin' level with ya we can't get married at all."

"Why not?"

"Well..In the first place I'm not a natural blonde."

"Doesn't matter."

"I smoke. I smoke all the time."

"I don't care."

"I'm a terrible pass. For three years now I've been livin' with a saxophone player."

"I forgive you."

"I can never have children."

"We can adopt some."

"Oh you don't understand Osgood! Ugh…I'm a man!"

"Well…Nobody's perfect."

The end.