Disclaimer: CW/DC own these characters. I'm only borrowing them for a while. I own the original ideas found in this. Some dialogue from Episod "The Calm".
AN: Hello. I apologize for not being able to give you more warning, but this is the final chapter before the epilogue (one drawback about posting as you write). Thank you for returning and reading. I hope I did justice to the sensitive topic and its resolution. I went so far, then writer's block hit. So thank you for sticking with this story and here is the second to the last chapter.
After her session with Dr. Smith, Felicity decided to stay for the afternoon group therapy sessions as well. Partly to solidify her realizations from the morning but also because it felt good to put into words what she felt about some of her unresolved childhood issues and how they'd been affecting her recovery from Slade's attacks. She didn't want to lose those realizations and instead wanted to build upon them.
Because of her therapist's reaction to her describing her "dream" about beating up Slade, Felicity began to question her decision about confiding to a non-ARGUS therapist. Felicity got the feeling her therapist actually considered for a moment whether she should report Felicity to the authorities as a threat to others. Because of that, it probably wasn't a bad idea to take Oliver's suggestion she meet with an ARGUS therapist instead. In that way she could discuss her feelings about the Mirakuru still in her system and other things about her experience without being dishonest about them. She wouldn't have to shroud it under the pretense of a dream. Besides, she wasn't even sure how she could broach such subjects in regular therapy without causing an uproar.
As per his insistence, Oliver picked her up at 4pm after the last session. The worry was apparent in his eyes and she knew he'd been worried about her all day. He got out of the car, kissed her cheek, and opened the car door for her. Neither spoke until they both were in the car.
"How'd it go? By the look on your face, attending group helped, I assume?"
"Yes, it did." Leaning over to grasp his hand, she smiled at him. "Thank you for your support throughout all of this."
Felicity watched as a slight blush highlighted his cheekbones. "It's the least I can do." He then rushed to add, "I mean, because I truly care for you, as a friend, besides being interested in building our relationship romantically." Looking at her, he asked, "If you still want to, that is?"
"Are you kidding me, Oliver? I've been wanting to jump your bones since the first time you entered my office with your banged-up computer." Felicity covered her mouth, her eyes wide. "Oh, frak, I didn't mean to say that out loud!"
Oliver laughed. "Well, if I were honest with myself, I was attracted to you as well from that first meeting. That's why I kept returning with my bad cover-up stories to ask for your help." He looked at the road and his expression grew serious. "I never told you, but you were the first person I saw as a person since returning from the island."
"What do you mean?"
"I'd grown to view people as targets, threats or a means to an end. Always on guard, never relaxed. And you made me smile honestly for the first time since I'd gotten back." He breathed a chuckle. "You don't know how much that meant to me."
Felicity looked out the windshield as well and thought about his words. The fact he felt that way touched her tremendously. She had always known Oliver Queen as more than just a superficial playboy or a closed, up-tight survivor. The man truly was a complicated, multi-layered individual, and she hoped she could spend a lifetime exploring all of him.
The silence, at first awkward, grew comfortable as they drove along. Suddenly Felicity realized they weren't heading to either her apartment or the Queen mansion. "Where are we going?"
"I know I should've asked, especially since you've had such a long day, but I wanted to take you out for supper. To celebrate."
Felicity lowered her head and looked at Oliver through her eyelashes. "Why, sir, what exactly are we celebrating?"
"I know I should say capturing Slade, but actually…." Oliver swallowed. "I wanted to celebrate us." After a pause he added, "I hope it's not too soon."
Of all those layers which made up Oliver, Felicity was surprised to find such a romantic side to him. Of course she knew and was very much familiar with the superficial charming side he often showed outsiders, but him being so earnest and sweet was new.
"That sounds…nice."
"Nice?" Felicity swore she saw a look of fear cross his face and as quickly was gone.
Felicity felt her face turning red. "When you say things like that, you're so romantic it catches me off-guard."
"Well, I guess I simply have to do it a lot more often so you get used to it then." A small smile, which Felicity took as relief, appeared on his face.
Felicity felt her face redden even further. She broke their gaze and looked down at her hands grasped tightly together in her lap. "Where are we going?"
"This little bistro I discovered the other day. It's fairly new, so it's not too busy. It's smaller so it feels less daunting than, say, Table Salt. Which I plan on taking you soon, but I thought you'd object without more advanced notice."
Looking down at her pretty, but unremarkable, pink blouse and gray pencil skirt, Felicity was happy Oliver understood women. At least most of the time, she added with a small smile.
"Thank you for understanding," she smiled.
Their eyes locked for a moment but Oliver, safety conscious as always, quickly returned his eyes back to the road. They sat in comfortable silence watching the scenery pass as it changed from the city streets to slower-paced neighborhoods.
Before she knew it, they reached the restaurant. Oliver, as always the gentleman, got out quickly to open the car door for her. He assisted her out of the car with a small smile on his face at the surprise on her own face. "What? I can be a gentleman, you know."
"Of course I knew that. I …I'm just not used to it that's all."
"Well, again, you better get used to it." Oliver's face suddenly turned pink and he quickly looked away as they reached the restaurant door. He held the door for her and she walked in as she looked around. It was a very nice little restaurant, Felicity thought. Perfect for a first date. Which this was, and wasn't, at the same time. Suddenly she became nervous once again, her breathing increased and she knew she trembled a little.
Oliver, walking arm in arm with her, stopped her. "What happened?" he asked quietly. "What are you thinking that made you nervous?"
Right then, the hostess approached them. "Let me tell you at the table," Felicity suggested, indicating the hostess with a nod of her head.
Oliver agreed and they were seated at a quiet table for two by one of the large bay windows at the far end of the restaurant. The tables were made of soft brown oak, the chairs comfortably upholstered. The window looked out on a little pond gracing the end of the property line of the restaurant.
After the hostess left them with two menus, Oliver looked at her expectantly. Felicity swallowed and said, "It's because this…well, this is like a first date, but not."
"What is there to be nervous about, Felicity?"
"Well, we've known each other for two and a half years. We've already exhausted every topic that one would normally talk about on a first date." She gulped. "And a second date and a third date." She sighed. "And every date, actually. And I've already seen you shirtless. Multiple times. Shirtless, all the time." She looked down, knowing her face was turning crimson, as she traced the pattern of the tablecloth with her finger.
"Felicity, it's all right. It's just me. You've nothing to be nervous about. I haven't been scared away yet, have I?"
That produced the desired effect of making her laugh. "I guess not. And you have said you liked my ramblings."
"I love them, actually." The admission was spoken softly, which was out of the ordinary for the gruff Arrow. Felicity wondered if her face would ever again return to its natural color. However, when Oliver reached across the table and squeezed her hand again, all her anxiety vanished.
They talked over what they were thinking about ordering, and then the conversation wandered effortlessly from topic to topic as they ate and enjoyed the wine Felicity had chosen. Contrary to Oliver's insistence, she didn't order the Laffite Rothschild. "Let's save that for a special occasion."
Oliver whispered to her, "Every moment I spend with you is a special occasion."
Felicity was speechless. She wasn't used to this more carefree and certainly more romantic Oliver. When she didn't make a comment, Oliver took her hand gently and squeezed it lightly. He then carefully lowered it back into her lap and continued their discussion about hometowns.
Their conversation was as effortless as it was in the foundry. Felicity didn't stop to think about it until later. How easily her one great romance began with a shot-up computer.
AN: I apologize for struggling with this last bit of the story. I hope this seems like a proper ending. I will add an epilogue. And perhaps a sequel, but that might be a while.
Thank you for everyone who has read this to the end, who have commented or reviewed, or left a fav, follow, or kudo. It is truly appreciated. We readers hate to beg for reviews, but it really does help the Muse.
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