"FIND SOMEONE WHO'S COMFORTABLE WITH YOUR SILENCE. FIND SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T NEED YOUR WORDS TO KNOW IT'S TIME TO KISS YOU" –CLAIRABELLE ANN

Donna Smoak

Felicity babbles.

It's a worldwide known fact, something that makes her, her. People chalk it up to her personality, something she is and something she can't control.

I'm her mother. And despite our initial differences; the big void that was previously present, I know her better than anyone else in the world.

And I know that sometimes, Felicity's babbling is a mask, a method to fill a void of silence, a feeling of necessity to protect her from the silence that broadcasts who she is, makes her vulnerable.

Felicity has yet to meet someone who she is comfortable enough to be silent with, someone who's willing to understand her without words being necessary.

And as I look out the window on the plane, magazine forgotten on my lap, I pray, to whatever God is up there, whatever higher power watches over me, that my daughter will find someone with whom she can share not only her words with, but her silence as well, and have him (or her) understand her heart in both forms of communication.

Hailing a taxi from the airport, I make my way to Felicity's apartment; a new address since the last time I saw her, her promotion allowing her some of the finer things in life.

I don't follow up on the news; I don't have time to follow up with the news. By the time I'm off my feet and get home, I'm too tired to do anything beyond taking a nice bath and collapse on my bed. But having worked for the same casino for the past decade allows me some benefits, including fewer shifts and a higher position. It also allows me to follow up on some of the very few things that happen in Starling City, including matters concerning the company Felicity works in, which is my only interest.

Apparently, Oliver Queen had regained the company after losing it last year, and now does a much better job of running it. There was a mini battle with Ray Palmer, the man with the nice watches, but in the end, the young (and handsome) Queen won, and all is smoothly set for that boat (bad use of words).

I come to a stop in front of her door, hesitating. I did text her that I was going to come, but she didn't respond, and I wonder if she really wants me here. The two of us never really got along, our obvious differences made it easy to do so, and while we do talk on the phone from time to time, neither she nor I have had the time to have visits like this regularly. But she's my daughter and the only family I have left, and the knowledge gives me the courage to knock on the wooden door.

I hear the familiar grumbling and groaning from the other side, indicating that Felicity just woke up, and I stifle a teary smile at the memories the sound brings.

"You have a key to the apartment, why don't you use—" She freezes when she sees me, and we stare at each other for a moment, she in surprise and me in curiosity as to who she thought I was, someone that has a key to her apartment.

"Mom?" She exclaims in shock and I involuntarily smile at her, pulling her in for a hug trying not to cry because it's been so long since I held my baby girl.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice holds no cold, indicating that she genuinely didn't know I was coming.

"I sent you a text," I pull out my phone and show her, and she sighs in frustration.

"You didn't press send," She deadpans, and I giggle nervously.

Well, my bad.

She ushers me in, and when she turns around after closing the door, I allow myself a good look at her.

She has a white blanket wrapped around her tiny frame, her glasses aren't present, causing her to squint, and her nose is cherry red, matching her cheeks.

"Oh, honey, you're not feeling well," I fuss, and I watch her straighten her back and shake her head in denial.

"It's just a little cold mom, I'll be fine. I was stuck in the rain last night because my car is in service and Dig was busy with his daughter, and I was waiting for a cab, and yesterday just happened to be the night that everyone decided to not drive by my way and I was stuck in the cold rain, and ya..."

I nod silently, following her into the kitchen feeling slightly hurt that she still feels the necessity to fill in the silence with me, and the fact that she won't bring down her walls and allow me to take care of her.

I wasn't the best mother, I'll admit. It's the one thing I absolutely regret. Because by not being there for my daughter, I unintentionally taught her to never rely on someone else, and to never let someone in to take care of you. I taught her to take care of herself, and not accept help from others. And it sucks.

"What about breakfast? You're supposed to eat breakfast."

She waves her hand dismissingly, casually telling me, "Oliver's bringing it."

Felicity is the head of the Technological Department of Queen Consolidated, and I am so proud of her. No one deserves the position more than my daughter does, and I'm so happy she got the job of her dreams. She also made two very good friends, judging by the way she talks about them whenever we do have the time to have a conversation over the phone. Oliver Queen and John Diggle have been a constant in my daughter's life for three years now, and I'm truly glad Felicity has made true friends in this city.

The only problem happens to be the fact that my daughter is head over heels in love with Oliver Queen.

And I don't know how I feel about that. I know that he's changed. I know that he's better, I know that he's trying to be better, and I know that if my daughter chose him, then he must be worth it.

What I don't know is if he feels the same way.

As if he was privy to my thoughts, the door opens, and from where I sit, I can see Oliver Queen enter the apartment, returning the spare key he used into his pocket.

He pauses mid-step when he spots Felicity in the kitchen and tilts his head, and I watch in rapt fascination as my daughter tilts her head back as she listens to his question, "What are you doing out of bed?"

She rolls her eyes, "I have a cold Oliver, not pneumonia."

He sighs and shakes his head, and the action causes him to notice me for the first time, and I smile and awkwardly wave.

Felicity does the customary introductions, "Oliver, this is my...mother. Mom, this is Oliver,"

I mentally prepare myself for what is sure to come next. The part where people stare at me and Felicity oddly, as if they cannot believe someone like me could ever birth someone as amazing as her.

Instead, I'm greeted with a wide smile and Oliver Queen approaching me, offering me his hand to shake, "Mrs. Smoak, it's nice to meet you,"

Up close, I can see why the media is such a fanatic for him. He surely is the catch. True to myself, I wink at Felicity and the action isn't lost on anyone in the room, one groaning in embarrassment, while the other just smiles, probably used to this sort of attention.

I look at the billionaire once more, "Aren't you supposed to be at the office?" I ask, noting the custom designed suit that he adorns.

He nervously shifts on his feet, "Uh...Yes, I would have been in the office now. But uh...my mom makes..." I register pain in his eyes as he hastily corrects his sentence, "used to make us this soup when we were sick and so I just thought..."

He trails off and I have this sudden need to pull him into my arms; this poor boy who has lost too much in the course of just a few years, and who manages to take care of my little girl better than I ever did.

Instead, sparing us both the mortification, I joke, "Looking at my daughter's cooking skills, or lack of them, that's probably a good idea,"

My daughter intercepts the conversation right there, and I don't miss the way she looks that much happier and comfortable, her eyes shining bright, "I can cook! Look, here's a bagel for you, mom."

She hands me a slightly burnt bagel, but I proudly shove it in my mouth, dramatically moaning through the ashy taste.

She hops up on top of the stool on the opposite side of the counter, focusing her attention back to her boss (not that it ever left him), "Did you bring..."

"Company reports," he finishes for her, waving a stack of papers in the air.

He seats himself beside her, and I watch with rapt attention at the way the two of them work together.

Silent.

For the first time in a long time, Felicity Smoak is in the room, and there is nothing but silence.

And the thought brings tears to my eyes.

But I push them back and observe them, noticing crystal clearly, how much in love these two idiots are.

They go through the reports together, only speaking when words are necessary,

"If we change the distribution of that then we gain more profit here,"

Or,

"Maybe we can give this department a raise, they did give us the most gain this month,"

They flip through the pages in sync, somehow knowing when the other is done the reading, without words.

And Felicity, for once looks completely comfortable in her skin, unafraid to be who she really is, words not being necessary for her because she's comfortable with Oliver. Oliver doesn't give her the need to hide under a plethora of words to coat over the silence. They have made a small little bubble just for them, and I, for the life of me, am so glad that Felicity found someone who understands and values her for who she is, awkwardness, babbles and brains including. I'm glad Felicity has found someone who has the ability to understand her complex self better than anyone has managed to do since her father, and remain by her side all throughout it.

The peaceful atmosphere is disturbed by the shrill ring of the phone, and I make a movement to open my purse to check if it's mine, but Oliver Queen's authoritative voice suggests otherwise,

"Oliver Queen speaking,"

He listens in silence for a moment and I watch as Felicity, who feels discomfort at ever physically interrupting someone's space, leans in closer so that she can listen to the speaker too.

"Yes, yes, I'm on my way."

He turns the phone off, and makes his way out the door, pausing when he passes me,

"It was very nice meeting you, Mrs. Smoak,"

I smile warmly at him, "Oh the pleasure was all mine. And please, call me Donna,"

He nods and smiles and I'm not surprised to see that it isn't as bright and happy as the smile he gives to my daughter as he retrieves his coffee from where he placed it at the counter. Neither one of them are aware of the picture they paint; him, dressed in work attire holding a coffee on one hand and a briefcase on the other, smiling at her, wearing pajamas and leaning against the frame of the kitchen waving him goodbye.

They prove their well-earned uniqueness when she calls out to him as he toes on his shoes,

"When you come back..." She trails off, and I raise my coffee over my mouth to hide my smile at the pure confidence Felicity has in Oliver that he will come back.

Before him, it was always if you come back.

"Bring the stock reports I receive today,"

Felicity opens her mouth to say more but in that creepy way of theirs, Oliver knows what she's about to say.

"No, I won't schedule a meeting with Kord Industries until you're better and yes, I will ask Dig to bring you his pot roast."

She grins widely at him, and the grin doesn't fade even after he leaves the apartment, and she busies herself with the task of making coffee.

And for the first time since my daughter left all by herself to Starling City, I feel a sense of relief and peace.

I know that Felicity is going to be fine here. I know that she's going to be happy, safe and loved.

Because she has Oliver Queen.

"SOME HEARTS UNDERSTAND OTHER, EVEN IN SILENCE"

Donna Smoak cannot be more happy, because Felicity Smoak found someone like Oliver Queen, who understands and loves her without any words being necessary.