When Oliver woke, he didn't immediately recognise where he was. He blinked a few times to try to rid his head of the dull ache that he had been very familiar with in his younger days, and squinted at the light streaming into the room that seemed far too bright for a winter's day. The hangover he was nursing made his head thump in protest, urging him to go back to sleep until the pain stopped, or until the light stopped assaulting his eyes.

It was only when he tried to raise his hand to his head, and finding there to be something holding it down, that he noticed that he wasn't alone. Nestled into his side, head resting on his shoulder and arm thrown lazily over his torso, was the sleeping form of Laurel Lance, breathing steadily as she slept. She lay face down, with the sheets pooled around her waist showing Oliver that she, like him, was naked.

Images of the previous night flashed in his mind, and he couldn't help the smile that played on his lips. It had probably been one of the better nights he had had in his life. Not only had he hooked up with a stranger at a bar, something he hadn't done since his days of flashing a fake ID at the bouncer, but he had enjoyed their mini adventure they had gone after the bar closed. More importantly, he felt lighter than he had in a long while. He hadn't had to be Oliver Queen, son of billionaire Robert Queen, heir to the throne of Queen Consolidated. He had just been Oliver, and it had been liberating.

He glanced back down at Laurel, still sleeping soundly. Her face was almost buried in her blonde curls, but he could still make out her face, relaxed and serene, the corners of her lips slightly raised in content. He wished he could be like that, not letting his worries affect him. It had been a surprise he hadn't woken to a nightmare about the island like he usually did, but a welcome one.

Just then, he felt Laurel stir beside him, and he saw her open her eyes, though she instantly shut them and groaned in protest at the light that had found its way through a crack in the curtains they had hastily closed last night. Squinting, she looked up and their eyes met.

"Hi," she smiled, stretching like a cat before cuddling back into him, "I hope you don't mind but you're really comfy and I'm really tired."

"Not up for round two, then?" He joked, and was pleased to see a faint blush on her cheeks and her lips twitch with a grin.

"More like round four. Or was it five? I lost count."

Even after just waking up, she was quick to rise to his challenge, not letting his teasing go unanswered.

"Hell of a night."

She hummed noncommittally, not moving where she lay. For a moment they didn't move, enjoying each other's presence.

"Thank you for not leaving." She murmured.

"Why would I leave?" He asked, absent-mindedly stroking her hair.

"Isn't that what guys do after a one-night stand? Wait until the girl falls asleep then sneak out the window." She had a point. He had been guilty of this on more than one occasion, though he hoped the island had changed him enough to end that particular trait.

"And spoil your Christmas Eve Eve Eve? Or I suppose it's Christmas Eve Eve now."

Laurel snorted and looked up at him, chin resting on his chest.

"Out of all the things that you should remember about last night, that is definitely not one of them."

"Trust me, I remember a lot about last night."

"Yet you still want a reminder this morning."

"Only if you're offering."

Oliver felt like he had known Laurel all his life. Their banter was easy, their tone light, teasing at things that could be while neither one of them bothering to move from their current position. Anyone looking in might think they were married with how comfortable they seemed to be with each other.

"Down, boy," she teased, raising an amused eyebrow, "I need to eat something greasy to stop my head from feeling like it's been thrown through a wall before I even think about anything else."

He had to agree with her there. His head lightly throbbed from the excessive amount of alcohol he had drank at the bar, and Laurel had kept up with his intake all night. He usually tried to control how much he drank, but Laurel's challenging eyes had kept him ordering drinks until last orders.

Suddenly, Laurel let out a huge groan and rolled over onto her back, giving Oliver an excellent view as she did as the sheets were still wrapped around her waist.

"What is it?" He asked, rolling onto his side to face her.

"I've just remembered what's waiting for me when I go back to my dad's."

Oliver was also reminded in that moment why he had left his family last night to seek out a bar, and he barely supressed a groan of his own.

"Would our families be mad if we just hid here for the next couple of days?"

"Definitely, but that doesn't make it a tempting offer. Only problem is my dad knows where I live. Sooner or later, he'll come kicking down my door, probably arrest you for daring to have sex with me, then take me back home."

It had come up last night about Laurel's father being a cop, and his tendency to go too far with scaring off her ex-boyfriends.

"I hope not. Then I'd have no option but to go home and face the wrath of my mother. I wouldn't be surprised if there are already people looking for me, though I don't think they'll find me here."

"Looks like we don't have a lot of time together, then." Laurel said, rolling over to straddle Oliver, her hands on his chest as he placed his on her hips.

"What about breakfast?" He asked, grinning. Laurel smiled down at him, though there was a tinge of pink to her cheeks.

"Why don't we make it a date? I don't know about you, but I'm not totally against exchanging numbers and meeting up again? And not just for the sex, although the sex was amazing, definitely wouldn't mind doing that again, but –"

She broke off as Oliver laughed. She frowned at him and slapped his chest lightly, gasping slightly as Oliver bucked his hips in response.

"Laurel, I really like you. Like a lot, and I'd love to take you for breakfast sometime."

At that, Laurel's smile looked like it would split her face. She leaned down and captured his lips in a passionate kiss. Oliver responded by rolled them over so she was underneath him, eliciting a squeak from the blonde.

For now, dysfunctional families could wait.