A/N: Again, huge thanks to everyone who is reading this and letting me know what they think! Also, westernbeauty, you are the best beta ever :) Oh, and this chapter contains some smut so... you have been warned.

The Fourth Year

She stood across from Oliver in their backyard, the sun beating down on them, sweat soaking into the thin tank top that she wore as it ran in rivulets down her spine. Her hair hung in a limp ponytail down her back.

Felicity shifted her stance and pounced, lunging forward the way that Oliver had shown her.

He was quick to dodge her attack, spinning away and causing her to stumble. She recovered quickly, whirling around with staff in hand and catching him hard in the ribcage. The sound of wood slapping into slick skin and dense muscle was loud in the air around them and the force of the hit reverberated up the length of her arms. Oliver didn't flinch as he responded with his own attack. His bow clipped her legs, taking her to the ground. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, leaving her disoriented, and he took advantage.

Oliver dropped his weight on her, straddling her thighs and pinning her arms over her head. She blinked up at him.

"You're getting better on the offense but you're too focused on the attack. You're leaving yourself wide open. You've got to work more on protecting yourself and stop worrying so much about the attack. In most cases, especially if your opponent isn't human, you won't be able to incapacitate them."

She nodded and rolled her head enough to wipe her sweat-drenched face on her shoulder. Oliver dropped his head to the curve of her neck.

"I don't like this," he murmured, releasing her hands and slipping his arms beneath her back, "I hate training you to fight. The thought of someone hurting you, of you having to –"

"I know, Oliver. But look at it this way, if it ever happens again, I'll be ready. And I know that its been two years since that demon tried to kill me but I still need to know how to handle myself, just in case. I feel safe, I do, especially when I'm with you. Training me is just a – a precaution."

Her fingers slid over his shoulders, skimming along warm, golden skin, and she traced the lines of his back. He stood with ease lifting her with him, and Felicity locked her legs around his waist as he carried her toward the house.

"How's your head?"

She kissed his cheek.

"It's fine. How are your ribs?"

He shrugged, "Fine."

The interior of their little cabin wasn't much cooler than the blistering day outside. The blinds had been drawn and several fans were circulating air in various rooms but it was still too warm.

Felicity didn't question it when Oliver bypassed the living room and then their bedroom, heading directly for the shower in their modest bathroom. When he set her on her feet in front of the sink, she toed off her sneakers and propped her hip against the vanity. Oliver reached into the shower and her eyes followed the play of muscles in his naked back.

When he turned back to her, his hands fell to her waist and dipped beneath the hem of her shirt. His fingers glided along her ribs and she lifted her arms as he guided the garment over her head. Her sports bra – plain gray and utilitarian – soon followed, leaving her naked from the waist up. He stepped into her, crowding her into the countertop at her back with the wall of his hard chest in front of her. His calloused hands glided across her abdomen and around her waist, the action leaving her nipples pebbled and her skin flushed. He tugged her forward half a step until she was plastered against him, naked chest to naked chest.

"I can't lose you, Felicity."

She took his face in her hands, reversing their roles for once, and rose up on her toes to brush her lips against his waiting mouth.

"You won't, Oliver. I'm fine. I'm safe."

His arms banded around her back, drawing her infinitesimally closer, and she felt every inch of his large body. She felt the hard ridge of his erection where it was pressed into her belly and the heat that wafted off of his scarred skin, enveloping her.

Oliver fell to his knees, lifting each foot to carefully remove her socks and set them aside with the sneakers she'd already removed. When his hands reached for the waistband of her yoga pants, she caught his wrists and sucked her lower lip between her teeth.

"I'm – I'm really sweaty, babe. Like gross sweaty and I –"

Oliver shook his head, freeing his hands, and licking a strip beneath her bellybutton.

She sighed, her fingers diving into his hair, and braced herself against the slab of marble at her back. Her pants and underwear were whisked down the length of her legs and she stepped out of them. Oliver leaned into her, the stubble on his cheeks and chin abrading the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. She trembled under his ministrations. He nipped and kissed a fiery path from the top of one thigh, across her mound, and along to the other, leaving her shaking as need blossomed in her core. His hands were warm where they gripped her hips, his thumbs digging into her pubic bone, and Felicity lay her hands over his, entwining their fingers.

She waited for his lips to move lower, for him to bury his face in the juncture of her thighs and suck her clit into his mouth. Her breath was stuck in her throat. But he didn't do as she expected. Instead, he rose up and nuzzled her flat stomach, leaving her feeling bereft.

"I want to put a baby here," Oliver whispered, "I want to have a baby with you, love. I want to watch you grow with our child."

His words brought tears to her eyes.

They had talked about starting a family more and more over the previous months. She had even stopped taking her birth control, leaving them with the not-so-pleasant issue of condoms, in the hope that when they decided that they were ready for a baby, they'd would have one less obstacle standing in their way. She hadn't wanted to tell him but she was ready. She had been for a while. She'd wanted to hear him say the words. She needed to know that he was as ready – as eager – as she was.

"Okay," she whispered, threading her fingers into his hair and tipping his head back so that she could see his eyes, "I want that, too, Oliver."

He sighed, his eyes slipping closed, and pressed open mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of her belly. Her fingers tightened, tugging the short strands of his hair as he sank lower, his hands still on her hips angling her forward. When his tongue darted out to taste her, Felicity gasped. Warmth flooded her, making her limbs tingle and burn as he touched her clit with the tip of his tongue.

A strangled cry escaped, leaving her lips parted and her chest heaving. Oliver applied the perfect amount of pressure to the swollen bundle of nerves, the force of his strokes expertly building her pleasure before he drew her clit into his mouth and sucked just the way that she'd wanted him to.

The vanity at her back took most of her weight as her legs shook with the effort to keep herself upright and even though Oliver's hands still gripped her hips tightly, she still felt like she was falling.

"Oliver, ple – please. I need – I –"

She didn't know what it was she was asking for but Oliver knew her well enough to understand.

He angled his head, dragging his teeth gently across her flesh, and her pleasure erupted. The death grip she had on Oliver's hair slackened but he stayed with her, lapping at her too-sensitive clit as she came down from her orgasm. When she finally felt as if she could breathe again, she raked her nails across his scalp, grinning down at him as he looked up at her with hooded eyes.

"I love you."

He chuckled.

"I love you, too."

He got to his feet and she watched with blatant approval as his muscles flex and rippled beneath the taut flesh of his chest and arms. Her mouth went dry and when he shoved his sweats and boxers down, freeing his erection, she bit her lip and sighed happily.

Oliver reached for her then and she went willingly, wrapping her legs around his waist when he lifted her. He carried her into the already steaming shower and as the spray of water hit her back, Felicity lowered her lips to his throat. His hands slipped along her spine, tangling in her wet hair where it fell across her shoulders, and when she nipped at the underside of his jaw, he wrapped the strands around his fist. She made a path from his jaw to his ear where she tugged the lobe between her teeth.

"I need to feel you," she whispered, lips trailing along the shell of his ear, "I want to feel you come inside me."

Her back hit the wall half a second later as he pushed against her, thrusting against the cradle of her thighs, his cock pushing into the wetness and bumping against her clit. She whimpered.

One of his hands settled on her ass, fingers squeezing tightly, and Felicity reached between them to guide him to her entrance. Oliver pumped his hips, sinking into her in one slow stroke. He filled her completely and their moans blended together in the small space.

"I love you, Felicity, so much."

She pressed her face to the curve of his shoulder and held onto him desperately.

"I love you, Oliver."

Her fingers danced along the nape of his neck as his hips moved, his pace strong and steady, his thrusts causing her back to slide up the slick tile wall. Her legs clenched around his hips. Little ribbons of fire spiraled outward from her core as her ecstasy built. It wasn't the same as the first orgasm he'd given her, not as hurried or desperate. It left her scorched either way.

Oliver grasped her hips tighter, one hand slipping around her to press at the small of her back, changing the angle of his thrusts. She moaned, smothering the sound against the side of his head, and clutched at his shoulders. His pace quickened and she knew he was on the edge of release. It wouldn't take much more to get her to that same place. She let one of her hands snake between their bodies, fingering her clit as Oliver pounded into her.

"Fuck, Felicity, I – oh fuck."

He came with a strangled cry that he muffled against the curve of her throat. His hips continued to move against her, continued to drive his length deeper into her, and she followed him over the edge as blinding pleasure exploded like fireworks on the backs of her eyelids. Felicity couldn't stop from clawing at his back as she tried desperately to hang on and ride out her orgasm.

When he finally settled, his breath harsh against her throat as he held her aloft, she blinked her eyes open slowly and the small stall of their shower came into focus. She carded her fingers through Oliver's wet hair.

"I – I have a feeling this baby making process is going to be exhausting."

He laughed, his shoulders shaking and in turn shaking her, and when he lifted his head to meet her gaze, she grinned.

"But it'll be fun."

She shook her head wryly.

"You're terrible."

"And yet you love me anyway."

She couldn't deny it. She wouldn't. He made her happier than she had ever been in her life. She couldn't wait to start their family, to see what Oliver was like as a father. She had been dreaming about the child they would have together since the moment they'd discussed taking the next step in their life. It had been nearly a year. A year of waiting and worrying and wondering when they would be ready.

They were ready now and Felicity craved nothing more than the feeling of their child growing inside of her.

The first time Oliver introduced her to John Diggle, Felicity knew that she could trust him. He was a big man, even bigger than her husband, but he had kind eyes and an easy smile. The fact that he had openly teased the usually stoic Oliver Queen certainly made his presence easier to accept. Because that was exactly what Oliver expected her to do.

Mr. Diggle was a colleague, someone that Oliver trusted, and he would be her shadow. At least, that was what her husband expected her to agree to.

"John, will you excuse us for a moment?" she asked through clenched teeth, "I need to speak with my husband. Alone."

John grinned and held his hands up in surrender as he backed away.

"Good luck, man."

Oliver shook his head and waited until his friend was out of earshot before turning to her. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

"I do not need a bodyguard, Oliver. If you think for one second that I'm going to give up my privacy, my – my freedom and let that guy follow me every, you are out of your fracking mind!"

He sighed, "Felicity, love, just think about it for a minute. You don't like being cooped up when I'm away. You hate not being able to go out on your own. If John is here, if he's with you, you'll be safe. And trust me, he knows how to be discreet."

She snorts, "I don't doubt that, Oliver. But –"

"And what if – what if you're pregnant? You'll need to be more mobile. You'll have doctor's appointments. You'll need to go to the store. Even when I'm not here."

She fought the grin that wanted to break through the annoyance she had kept etched on her face. She stepped up to him, hands coming up to rest on his chest, and Oliver's hands fell to her hips. His thumbs dip beneath the hem of her t-shirt.

"We only started actively trying two days ago, Oliver. You know it may take a while. It could be months, hell, maybe years, before I get pregnant."

Something in his expression changed and he glanced away.
Felicity froze.

"What? What aren't you telling me?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

"Oliver! Am I – am I already …"

Her gaze fell to his hands where they remained on her hips. She let the fingers of her right hand slide between both of his along her flat tummy.

"I'm pregnant? Are you sure?"

Oliver pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I am."

"But – but how?"

He shrugged, "A gift."

Felicity looked up at him and laughed. She let him pull her into the circle of his arms, melting a little as his warmth surrounded her. Her heart thrummed in her chest.

They were having a baby. She was pregnant with Oliver's child and they had only triedthree – more like six – times. Apparently procreating wasn't a problem for an angel.

"Will you at least consider letting John shadow you, please? Only if you have an appointment that I can't make or – or if something comes up and you want to leave. He won't be here all the time, only when you call for him."

She sighed again.

"It'll make you feel better? Me letting this guy – whose arms are as big around as my thighs, by the way – protect me in your absence?"

He nodded, that familiar little smirk lighting his face, and Felicity found her resolve crumbling. She wondered briefly if her ease in giving up her fight came from the Mark. Was she allowing herself to be compelled by Oliver's emotions? She shook her head, either way, it didn't matter.

"Fine. John can stay. But I'd better not see him. Not unless I specifically request his help. Got it?"

The smile on Oliver's face grew.

"Yes, dear."

She rolled her eyes but allowed herself to grin up at her husband. He tugged her closer and tucked her head beneath his chin. He held her close.

"Anything else you want to share about our unborn child? Apart from the fact that he or she exists?" she asks, "Wait, do you know already? Can you tell if it's a girl or a boy? Is it – is it okay? Will it be healthy?"

He stroked a hand through her hair, "No, love. There's nothing else. Not yet, anyway."

She settled against him.

"You'll tell me when you do know, right? If – if anything changes?"

He nodded, "Of course."

Felicity forced herself to step away from her husband. She picked up Yoda from the floor where he'd been winding figure eights between her legs.

She sighed, "You should go get John. Ask him if he's hungry. I'll order from that Thai place in town that you like so much."

Oliver pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"I'll be right back. You won't regret this, Felicity, I promise. Besides, you may even like having John around if you give him a chance."

She rolled her eyes again.

"Highly unlikely, Queen."