A/N: So this went a smidge over an hour…and it's a total gush semi-futurefic thing that I don't normally write, but that's where it went, and, well, Christmas is supposed to be warm and fluffy right?

Silver, Bells, and Bullets

It was 9 o'clock on Christmas night, but in the Arrowcave it felt like anything but a holiday. They'd spent the last three days fighting a terrorist who had threatened to celebrate the season by gassing the city. They were all banged up and worn out. Oliver, as usual, had gotten the worst of it - a bullet graze in his forearm and a bruise the size of Colorado where only the Kevlar in his suit had protected him from a wound that would have killed him…again.

As Felicity finished putting a huge bandage across the wound on Oliver's arm and handed him an ice pack for his chest Roy cleared his throat. "You guys mind if I head out? Sin actually invited me to a party, and I wouldn't mind trying to catch the end of it."

Oliver grunted as he sat up straight. "Sounds good. Merry Christmas Roy."

Roy nodded, and gave a genuine smile. "Yeah, man. You too."

Felicity watched Roy leave then turned back to John and Oliver who both seemed overly quiet and pensive. They'd all agreed not to exchange gifts, instead pooling a solid chunk of funds to donate anonymously to a struggling teen shelter in the Glades. It had seemed like the right move at the time, but now Felicity kind of regretted agreeing to the "no present" rule. It would have been nice to have some brightly wrapped packages to give her boys. She'd meant to do something, bake or string some lights up in the lair, but there'd just never been any time.

"Don't you have a little girl waiting for you at home?" Oliver asked Digg, his voice tired, but with a hint of a smile.

Digg shook his head sadly. "Nah, the minute I heard about the gas threat I sent her and Lyla packing to her parents."

"I'm sorry," Felicity said, unable to keep the sadness out of her voice. The thought that Diggle hadn't been able to be with little Sara on Christmas was almost as depressing as Oliver getting shot on Christmas.

Digg shrugged. "Couldn't be helped, besides, I doubt this is how you two planned to spend today."

Oliver and Felicity exchanged a look. There had been some hope of plans, quiet words about dinner, or walking to see the lights in the park, but even before they'd known about the latest threat they had been more dreams than plans. It was just the nature of their life.

"Believe it or not," Felicity said. "I've had a lot of holidays like this, even before you guys came along. Sort of best/worst holidays."

Oliver gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

She smiled and reached out so their fingers just brushed where his hand curled tightly over the edge of the medical table. They usually did their best to keep their "gush" as Roy called it out of the lair. "Well, this could be a worst Christmas, you getting shot and Digg missing his family, but at least we're all here." She didn't add that there had been one Christmas she wouldn't talk about even now. The one where she'd thought Oliver was gone. "But…you're also alive because of a fantastic gift Cisco gave you, and we saved the holiday for thousands of people. See, worst and best."

Oliver's tired smile was a gift. "And you've had lots of these?"

"Yes." She said firmly. "You know my silver menorah?"

He nodded. It was the one holiday decoration she'd made time for and he'd commented on how beautiful it was.

"It belonged to my grandmother. When I was six, she died on the second night of Hanukkah, but my father made a point to finish lighting the candles with me." She choked a little on the tears she was holding back. "By the next Hanukkah it was about all I had left of both of them, but it still reminds me of her, and that at least once he cared about me enough to try and make things better."

She was grateful when Oliver's hand moved, wrapping his fingers in hers.

To her surprise John cleared his throat. "I have one like that too, actually."

Felicity nodded at him, indicating that he should go on.

He tilted his head to the side, folded his arms and moved to sit on the edge of the table he was in front of. "The first time I came back from Afghanistan it was the middle of November, and nothing, I mean nothing in the world felt right by the time Christmas came around. I was still ducking at loud noises and being angry at the whole damn world, including Lyla. I was at a party at Andy and Carly's and it just got so loud I couldn't take it anymore, so I went for a walk…"

He paused then, and Felicity had a feeling he was deciding how much to tell them. Finally, he continued, his voice deceptively even, as if hiding much deeper pain beneath. "On that walk, I managed to convince myself that it was never going to get better, that it might even be easier if I just gave up, permanently. Then just as I walked in front of that big church on Grant Street the bells started chiming out Silent Night. I remember laughing out loud - it felt like a sign or something."

Felicity couldn't help it. She walked across the room and gave him a hug. "Thank goodness for bells," she said.

He patted her back. "Yeah, no kidding. Wouldn't have wanted to miss out on all this fun."

Just as she pulled away, his phone rang. He looked at it, smiling at Lyla's picture. "I'm going to take this, and head out. You guys mind?"

"Saved by the bell again," Oliver said grinning. "Merry Christmas, John."

Digg answered the phone and walked out of the lair, his voice noticeably lighter and happier as he talked to his wife.

When the door shut behind him, Felicity turned, walking back to stand in front of Oliver. "So how about you?"

"Me?" he said, grimacing as he pushed up off the table. She put her arm around him and helped him as he limped over to where his shirt and jacket sat.

"Do you have any best/worst Christmases. You know, besides this one?" .

"Yeah," he said. "That whole Mirakuru/seeing ghosts thing was a bit of a mess." He reached for his shirt and she helped him pull it down over his head, careful to keep from touching his wounds. Then he reached for his jacket. "But I have argue with part of your theory."

"You do?" she said, laughing a bit.

He nodded, and when he looked up there was something solemn in his gaze. "I'm not sure this Christmas is going to qualify … I think it might fall firmly in the best category."

Unable to resist she leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "Oliver, you got shot, and I spent Christmas alone in the Foundry bossing around SCPD teams and praying we wouldn't all end up dead."

"True," he said. She realized he'd pulled something from the pocket of his jacket, but his hand was closed around it so that she couldn't quite see. "But Christmas isn't over yet. And I might have broken the no present rule."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure anything is going to make up for the fact that I can't hug you right now."

The smile that broke across his face stopped her breath. "I'm hoping you're wrong." Looking down he opened his hand and Felicity saw a small black velvet box….a ring box. He handed it to her and said, "I've had big, romantic plans three times now, but something always gets in the way, and I don't want to wait anymore."

She took the box from his outstretched hand with shaking fingers, flipping it open to reveal a perfect diamond solitaire. "Oliver?" she said, not believing what was happening.

He put his hand on her face, his skin warm and perfect against her cold cheek. She watched him swallow hard. "Marry me?"

She didn't even think, the word came out as a pure, startled, automatic delight. "Yes!"

And when he leaned down to kiss her; she realized he'd been right. This holiday was definitely going to fall into the "best" category.