For FF #30: You Have the Right to Remain Silent
You Can Take the Vigilante Out of Starling…
"You're where?" Felicity says into her cell phone, unable to keep the irritated disbelief out of her voice.
Oliver lets out an irritated sigh. "You heard me. Now are you coming to get me or not?"
"Please explain to me how 'I'm going for a run' turned into 'Bail me out I'm in jail,'" she says, though she is already picking up her keys from the hotel nightstand and heading toward the door.
"It's a long story, can you just…" his voice is stern, the tone he once used to give orders to Team Arrow. However, she didn't always follow orders then and she's not about to follow them now.
"So give me the Cliff Notes version," she says, heading for the hotel elevator.
There's another long sigh, but when he speaks the stony tone of voice has been replaced with a something smaller and less certain. "Some guy on the beach was shoving around his girlfriend, I stepped in and when he got in my face I punched him."
Felicity stops, closes her eyes. "Oh, Oliver, I'm sorry."
"No," he says clearing his throat. "I'm sorry. Felicity I…" there's a loud indistinct voice on the other end of the phone and when Oliver comes back his tone is all business again. "My time's up. You're coming?"
"Of course I'm coming," she says. "I love you."
He starts to answer but the phone disconnects. The town they're in is relatively small and it only takes her fifteen minutes to find the local police station. She's relieved to see him sitting on a bench outside when she arrives, hands on his knees staring at the ground. He looks up as she approaches, but his expression is frustratingly hard to read.
"Jailbreak?" she says, raising an eyebrow.
That gets a hint of a smile out of him, and she feels a sense of relief. Shaking his head he leans back, tipping his head against the brick wall and folding his arms across his chest. "The charges were dropped."
"And the abusive jerkface?' she asks.
Oliver gives a tiny uncomfortable shrug. "I broke his nose. And apparently the girl filed a restraining order against him."
"Good," Felicity says, sliding onto the bench next to him.
"All's well the ends well?" she asks hopefully, but she can tell by his stiffness, by the cloud that hangs around him that it isn't going to be that easy. At least he called her for help.
He closes his eyes. "I told you I was done being The Arrow; that I wanted to be with you."
"You did," Felicity says, putting her hand on his leg.
Tilting his head a fraction his eyes open and he turns a stormy blue gaze on her. "It's only been four weeks and I've already…" he trails off, shakes his head, and stands up abruptly. His breathing is so labored she can see his shoulders rise and fall.
Moving quickly, she goes forward, puts her hand on his back. "Oliver, you've spent the last three years protecting people in trouble. You can't just turn that part of yourself off, and I wouldn't want you to."
He turns reaching for her hand, he stares down at it for a few moments; thumb brushing across her palm. "And if it means, someday, I have to go back to being…"
"A man in a mask?" she suggests, smiling at him. "I fell in love with the man in the mask. The whole 'I can't be The Arrow and love you' crap was your problem, remember? Not mine. Not that I'm anxious to jump back into the crime solving business just yet I…"
He leans forward and kisses her, it's quick, but firm and warm and his hand comes up to grip her waist. "Me either," he says firmly, when he pulls back, dropping his forehead to hers. "Maybe someday I can be both a hero and yours…but for now I still want to focus on the latter."
"Me too," she says. "Now, did they feed you bread and water in the big house, or do you still need breakfast?"
Letting out half of a laugh he pulls her into his arms. "Breakfast is good."
She isn't naïve enough to think this is the last time they'll have to have this kind of conversation, but for right now, his laugh and the promise of waffles is more than enough to give a girl hope.
A/N: I don't know why I keep wanting to write these in present tense – I suck at present tense. However, I'm usually I'm forty minutes into my hour before I realize what I've done and it's too late to redo it, so there are probably verb problems here, sorry gang - the perils of flash fiction.
