Oliver surprised her. She had expected a ruthless and cold mobster, but he wasn't. He was respectful and fairly considerate. She could tell that he had been through hell since the boating accident, but she didn't feel like it was her place to ask, at least not yet. He had been patient with her every time she asked questions about the Bratva and what he was teaching her.

He took her shopping as promised and let her buy anything she wanted. Felicity for her part, tried to get comfortable, mostly sport leggings as far as pants go, and warm clothes. She got a couple outfits for going outside and of course pajamas, socks, slippers, underwear and a pair of boots. They went to a grocery store, too, and he told her to get what she needed.

The apartment was small. It had a small kitchen with a table and two chairs, a single bed, which Oliver insisted she takes, a sofa, that served as Oliver's bed too, a coffee table, an old dresser and the small bathroom. She was weirdly relieved to know that there was laundromat, well the Russian equivalent, two blocks from them. Oliver spent a lot of time doing Bratva things, so that kept him away from the apartment. He had said that he was working on building his own inner circle, for when he would take over as Captain in Starling City, because yes, he was planning on going home. And soon.

Felicity for her part spent most of her time planning, mostly daydreaming about her life as a Bratva wife. She had to spent most of her time inside the apartment because she didn't know Russian and she didn't know the area, which according to Oliver was not the safest for a woman walking alone. So, she stayed inside, though she always tagged along when Oliver was going to the grocery store or the to do laundry.

She had taken to cleaning, since she came to live with her future husband. It kept her busy and she felt productive. She never wasn't a clean freak, but the apartment she had to call home for the foreseeable future was sketchy and ick.

She was thankful that she had grabbed some bleach and general cleaners when they had gone shopping. She had started with the bathroom cleaning it top to bottom. Oliver had been amused, at least she thought so they guy had one hell of a poker face, when he had come back and found her balancing on a stool trying to clean the bathroom's lighting fixture. He startled her and lost her balance, but she found herself in a pair of strong arms.

"Careful" he had said, and Felicity hadn't blushed more in her life.

From then on, Oliver was a permanent fixture in her dreams. And not all of them were platonic. Oh, no. Au contraire. And every time he caught her daydreaming, Felicity turned in to a tomato, because more often than not, she was undressing him. In her imagination, of course.

The only truly awkward and uncomfortable instance was when Natasha, Anatoly's wife, came over to teach them about the traditional Bratva wedding they were going to have. All the higher ups were going to be there, and Anatoly was going to be the equivalent of the best man. The ceremony was going to take place in an Orthodox Church.

Felicity's dress was going to be made by one of the Bratva seamstresses and it had to be modest, long sleeves, no bare back. Her shoes had to be either white or red and she had to wear a red sash around her waist over her dress, too. A veil was nonnegotiable. Oliver had to wear a black suit, a white shirt and a red tie.

Their wedding rings were to be worn on their right ring fingers, that wasn't just a Russian thing, the Balkan people wore their wedding rings like that. The groom was in charge of the rings, and the bride was to see them on the wedding day.

She liked the symbolism behind the 'crowning'. Some people used replica crowns for that, but Felicity thought it was tacky, and Oliver nodded in agreement. They decided to have the simpler versions; two circlets with a simple design, joined together by a thin and long piece of lace (Natasha said that was the Greek version, but perfectly acceptable).

Natasha said that she was going to take her the following day to get her measurements and start on the rest of the preparations. The wedding was taking place in a month. That freaked Felicity out a little. Okay, a lot.

Felicity was getting restless, being cooped up all day in the tiny apartment. Oliver returned one day with a laptop for her and honest to god she almost kissed him. However, she did give him a hug, and didn't badge when he flinched. She realized that the only human contact he had in years was violent, but she was a touchy person and he had to ease into it. Even if they weren't going to truly be a married couple. Plus, she really liked feeling his hard muscles under her hands.

The day Natasha came to take her wedding shopping, Oliver gave her the equivalent of four thousand dollars in cash, to get what she wanted for the wedding. Felicity tried to protest, but Oliver was more stubborn than her.

Natasha was like a strict aunt. That's the only way Felicity could describe her. She took her to the seamstress, who took her measurements and gave her a short variety of dresses to choose from, and choose the only design with lace, because the others seems too heavy to her. The dress and the sash were going to cost one thousand five hundred American dollars. Felicity paid it outright, to have one less thing to worry about.

Natasha took her to an expensive department store next. She was fairly uncomfortable, because it was expensive and way above any budget she ever had. Until her eyes found them. Her shoes. They were satin and red, a beautiful red, and had rose gold leaves on the heels. They were gorgeous. High-priced but perfect. And she got them. She also got a two-tier veil with lace details. Natasha even made her buy contact lenses and some make-up for the ceremony. She was expected to do her hair and make-up herself, so she added the appropriate products in her cart, using mostly drugstore products she knew and used before this mess. She even got two shades of lipstick, because she loved lipstick, so she got one red for the wedding (not too flashy) and a pink for every day use. Their last stop was for white underwear, and Natasha wouldn't budge. She had to wear proper white underwear under her dress.

By the time Felicity returned to the apartment, she was exhausted. Oliver asked her how it had gone, and Felicity told him all about her day, glossing over the underwear section. She still felt guilty for how much money she spent on the shoes, but Oliver told her not to worry about it. She stored the boxes with the veil and the shoes under the bed, where they would remain until the wedding.

Oliver had actually picked their rings that day and asked if she wanted to know about them, to which Felicity said no. she'd wait for the ceremony.

The next day, they went to a store and picked their crowns together.

Felicity spent her days codding. Her new laptop was a good one, but she missed the power of her computers. Well, she had to make dew with what she had. Occasionally, Oliver would ask her to find something for him and she did, with a lot of help from a translation program she had wrote. She still did not speak Russian.

And that's how their wedding day rolled around. Natasha had come the day before to take her to another house, because she wasn't supposed to see the groom for 24 hours. The safe house they were using was a little roomier than the apartment she shared with Oliver; it had one bedroom and an actual living room. Felicity was going to stay there for the night and in the morning Natasha would return with some Captain wives to prepare her. Well, mostly to watch her as she prepared herself.

Felicity didn't sleep all that well that night. Russia made her nervous, especially when Oliver wasn't with her. As a result, she was up one hour before Natasha arrived, drinking some crappy coffee.

At ten o'clock, the door opened and the ladies spilled in, dressed in floor length gowns, in vibrant colors. At least none of them wore white, she thought. Because even if it wasn't how she was going to marry, it was still her wedding. She didn't think she would care, but she did.

Natasha introduced them all, she truly did her best to remember all the names and then they started signing, while Felicity got ready. She wore a white satin robe Anya had given her, with the word Bride written on the back with rhinestones, because she didn't want to offend her more than anything. She started with her makeup, she went for a more tame look because she was planning on wearing red lipstick; she did her base and added a little bit of blink on the inner corners of her eyes, she put on a modest pair of fake lashes, she put on eye liner, blush and a little bit of highlighter. And of course, her red lipstick. It was her favorite 24-hour stay brand, too.

She applied a couple to her hair, before starting curling it. She went for the loose curls look. It was something she could actually do, and it looked nice on her. And when she was done, she almost emptied the whole bottle of hair spray on herself. It was a little unnerving to do all that with a dozen of women watching her every move and singing in a language she did not understand.

They helped her into the dress, buttoning up all three gazillion buttons on her back. Natasha fastened the sash around her waist and one other wife slipped her shoes on. they helped her up and then Katarina, at least she hoped that was her name, put her veil on.

Anatoly knocked on the door moments later. It was time to go. They pulled her towards a waiting car, that had white flowers and ribbons on it. Natasha and Anatoly sat on either side of her on the back and they were off to get her married.

The church was near the safe house. It took them ten minutes to reach it. And there were a lot of people waiting outside for them. And that didn't help her anxiety, not even a little.

Anatoly helped her out of the car, and with his wife in tow, they started walking to the church, a large white building with gold domes. Oliver was waiting on the top of the steps for her. He looked handsome in his black suit. The jacket hugged his shoulders perfectly and the fabric was stretching over his muscular arms. She bet his ass would look fantastic, too. Get a grip, Smoak. It's not like he is actually yours.

She steadily walked up the steps and when they reached Oliver, the two men exchanged some words in Russian. Oliver looked at her then, and something passed through his eyes. Before Felicity could figure it out, he cleared his throat and offered her the bouquet of white and red roses he was holding.

"You look beautiful" he said in such a low voice, that Felicity almost thought she imagined it.

Before she had time to respond, the priest had them join their hands and pulled them inside. Just in time, too, because Felicity had started to shiver from the cold.

The church had truly high ceilings and the walls were all covered in saints; one side had the females and the other the males. The craftmanship was beautiful. However, she noticed that there were no seats, as the priest showed them to the holy table. Well, it's not like the bride could go and have a seat.

The ceremony was long. So long. And she didn't understand a single word. Oliver would tell her when she needed to know something, like when it was time for the rings. Oliver had chosen a pair of simple gold bands, not too thick. On the inside of hers, she managed to get a glimpse of a tiny emerald and Oliver's name. she thought there was a date inscribed, too, but she had to confirm it later. She liked her ring; it was simple and elegant.

After they had been crowned, they had to walk around the holy table a few times, with Anatoly holding the crowns on their heads. It was a little awkward, because Anatoly was shorter than Oliver. But Oliver never let go of her hand, and even if that was part of the ceremony, she felt better. She probably read too much into it.

And then, it was time for one thing she hadn't taken into account. The you may kiss the bride part. Felicity froze in place when Oliver told her, but a squeeze on her hand had her turning towards him. He lowered his head and the next thing she knew, his lips were on hers, on a soft kiss. A soft kiss that had her knees go weak and her lips tingling. She tried not to blush. She failed. Big time.

When the ceremony was finally over, after what felt like eons, they exited the church and the guests started throwing rice at them, lots and lots of rice, and Felicity had to use Oliver as a support, because stepping on rice on heels, was a fall waiting to happen. She was happy when they finally made it to the car.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now, we are going to the safe house you stayed at, to pick up your things. Then we will return to the apartment for a couple of hours. We have to attend the reception at Anatoly's house in the afternoon." Oliver explained.

"Reception?"

"More like a party than a reception, but yes." He nodded.

"So, I have to wear this all day?" she pointes at her wedding outfit.

"Natasha said you can take the veil off, but yes."

"Great." She groaned.

Their stop to the safe house was brief. Felicity had made sure her things were packed before she got into the dress. Oliver carried them to the car and then they drove another fifteen minutes to the apartment.

In the apartment there was a pile as tall as her of boxes and gift bags. "what's all that?" she asked.

"Wedding gifts." Oliver told her as he was putting down her things.

"Really?" her eyebrows almost disappeared to her hairline.

"Yeah. It didn't open any. I thought maybe you'd like to do it." He shrugged.

"Do you want to do it together? I mean, it's okay if you don't want to." She babbled as she took off her shoes.

"Do you want to eat something first?" he asked from the kitchen, silently accepting her invitation to do something together.

"I would kill for a burger right now, but probably not a good idea, when I'm wearing a wedding dress." She sighed.

"A cereal bar and a banana, then." he said and brought their snacks over on her bed, where she was sitting, in a sea of tulle and lace.

"thank you." She said and reached for the big box that said Ted Baker London. Inside she found the Highland suitcase set (Large, Medium, Small and the Vanity case) "Oh, that's nice." She admired. She knew those were expensive, at least by her standards.

"I think that's from Anya and Igor." He supplied. "Anya is a firm believer that one should have proper luggage. Igor brough two boxes, I think the other is suitcases for me." He picked up a giftbag next to them. That one had a bottle of expensive vodka.

They got a lot of alcohol. It was a mix of vodka and wine, with a couple bottles of whiskey thrown in the mix. Felicity joked about opening a night club. They got some crystal bowls and vases, most of whom Felicity hated. Some of the wives had gotten her underwear, lace underwear, which Felicity just shoved behind her and wouldn't let Oliver see them. Some people had gotten them towels, which yay useful! And some others had gotten them plates and glasses.

Oliver made her lie down after they were done with the gifts, while he picked up the wrappings. She must have dozed off, because next thing she knew, Oliver was shaking her awake. It was time to go to their party. She touched up her make up and hair quickly and then she followed her husband to the car.

Anatoly's house was large, manor large. The celebrations had already started when they arrived. People were drinking, dancing and singing. Natasha and Anatoly were waiting for them and they kissed both of their cheeks and welcomed them in the manor.

People cheered when they saw them, and everyone was offering them drinks. They were way to happy in Felicity's opinion, but then again, if they had been drinking for the past two hours, it was probably because they were totally wasted.

She didn't leave Oliver's side for most of the night. Everyone seemed to want to talk to him, and even if she didn't understand what the hell they were talking about, she felt better staying with the only sober person in the room.

The hours dragged by. She managed to talk a little with the less drunk wives and she even liked some of them. And she got a little tipsy herself, so much so, that every time Oliver would look at her, she would giggle like a schoolgirl. But it wasn't her fault. The man was stupidly hot and even though he was a feared Bratva Captain with a reputation of being ruthless, Tanya had told her that, she had a little crush on him. And she mentioned he was hot?

It was well after midnight, when they were allowed to leave. They drove in silence. What were you supposed to talk about with the man you were pretty much forced to marry, after your wedding reception thing, while you were a little drunk? And knowing her, she was going to put her foot in her mouth, so better not talk at all.

She never had been more thankful for living on the ground floor. She didn't think she would make it up the stairs in that dress and drunk.

"I think I'm drunk." She titled her head. She was standing close to her bed, while Oliver was locking the door behind them.

"Really?" he said and if Felicity was looking at him she would see the smile playing on his lips.

"Hm." She nodded. "Can you help me with the buttons? I can't reach them." She asked turning over to him.

"Drink a glass of water first and then I will." He nodded.

"But I'm not thirsty." She frowned.

"You'll thank me in the morning, trust me." He said. She was adorable. Her brown curls were framing her frowning face perfectly. And the little cleavage that showed from the dress, drove Oliver crazy. Get a grip! He scolded himself.

Felicity moved to the kitchen and did as he told her. Then turned to him to show him the empty glass.

Oliver caught himself smiling again. She had that effect on him. He hadn't smiled in years, but ever since she came in his life, he caught himself smiling often. At least in the safety of the apartment. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and motioned for her to come. He carefully undid all the buttons, which was a feat in and of itself, and unzipped her, revealing her creamy skinny. It looked so soft to him and he had to pinch himself to keep from placing a kiss on her back.

"All done." He said in raspy voice.

"Thank you." She smiled brilliantly at him, before disappearing in the bathroom to change.

She was going to be the death of him.