Chapter title: Pass Interference

A/N: Holy mother of... The response to the first chapter BLEW ME AWAY. So much so that I had to take an impromptu vacation to recover from the shock... Nah, just kidding. Even though there was an impromptu week-long vacation which is why I didn't update last week. Not sure if I'm gonna keep up with the weekly updating thing after this, but I'll try my best. In good news, I finished the rough outline for the story which will approximately have 8 chapters! I tried replying to as many comments/reviews as possible but in the end, writing the new chapter took priority. Just know that I've read every single comment/review and that I'm beyond grateful for all the love you're giving this story. Keep it up!

Happy reading and a fantastical weekend to y'all!

Definition: pass interference (PI) is a foul that occurs when a player interferes with an eligible receiver's ability to make a fair attempt to catch a forward pass. Pass interference may include tripping, pushing, pulling, or cutting in front of the receiver, covering the receiver's face, or pulling on the receiver's hands or arms. (Source: Wikipedia)

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A bead of sweat is dropping from Oliver's nose as he moves back into a squat, the weight on his shoulders pulling him down. With gritted teeth he locks his knees and pushes himself up, back into a straight position.

"Not skipping leg day, that's the spirit," sounds the voice of his best friend from somewhere behind him.

Without turning around, he answers, "Well, maybe you should take me as a good example then. I swear, Connor has more muscles in his legs than you, buddy."

Two more reps and he lets the metal bar of the weight lock into the rungs on the side of the rack. He steps out from below and swiftly catches the towel Tommy is throwing in his direction.

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"What? Not happy to see me? I'm hurt, Oliver," Tommy replies teasingly, putting his hand over his heart in mock hurt. "But seriously, the better question is what are you doing here while the rest of the team is outside on the football field?"

Oliver sighs and sits down on the nearest bench, taking a long swig from his water bottle. "The fact you're down here makes me think you already know."

His best friend sits down beside him. "I just know that Coach benched you for the rest of the week, including the game. Wanna tell me what happened?"

He quickly runs a hand through his short hair in frustration. "I got into a fight, injured my hand, Coach found out and benched me. End of story."

Just by Tommy's voice he can tell that he's frowning at his flippant answer. "Since when are you getting into fights again? And since when do you do it without me there to back you up?"

Oliver snorts at that. "Because you're such a reliable back up when it comes to fighting. Need I remind you off the Yale debacle of '05?"

"That's...", he stops himself and shakes his head. "Fine, I'm not good at the whole fighting thing. But you're deflecting. What happened?"

Before he can answer, Tommy's phone rings and he excuses himself to take the call, leaving Oliver to think about his answer. He knows that if he told Tommy about what happened he'd be all over him with questions about Felicity and urge him to go public with the incident to get some good PR. But that's something he simply can't do, not when it means dragging Felicity into all of this.

"Well, shit," Tommy interrupts his thoughts. "You better hop into the shower and get ready to meet the big boss."

"What?"

"Yup, my dad, well rather my dad's assistant, just informed me that we'll be expected in the conference room in twenty minutes for a sit down with Coach and the team's PR people to discuss how we'll explain you not playing on Sunday."

"Fan-fucking-tasting," Oliver mutters.

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Tommy's sitting to Oliver's left, to his right is Sara Lance, his publicist. On the opposite side of the table are Coach Wilson, the team doc Dr. Wells and a woman he's never met before, probably a publicist for the team. Malcolm Merlyn stands at the head of the table, his arms crossed in front of his chest, an annoyed expression etched on his face.

"Would someone mind telling why the hell our highest paid player who also happens to be our starting quarterback and team captain will not be playing on Sunday?"

Coach Wilson is the first to speak up, "Queen came to practice yesterday with a hand injury that was clearly sustained in a physical altercation. He was dropping balls left and right, so I took him out of practice and punished him accordingly."

Oliver clenches his jaw, holding back the decidedly rude comeback that lays on the tip of his tongue.

Malcolm narrows his eyes and moves his gaze over to Dr. Wells. "Have you had a chance to look at Mr. Queen's hand, Doc?"

Wells clears his throat before speaking, clearly intimidated by having to talk in front of the team owner. "Yes, Sir. Uh, I looked at it last night. Some of his knuckles are bruised and he presents with some swelling and discoloration, but it's nothing a couple of days rest and ice won't fix."

"Very well, then he's able to play on Sunday?"

The doctors response gets drowned out by Coach Wilson's immediate outburst. "The hell he will. Kid broke the rules. He's not playing."

Malcolm glares at him before turning to Oliver. "What happened?"

Oliver sighs and scratches his beard nervously. "I got into a fight."

"Why?" Tommy chimes in, that traitorous bastard.

"Because," Oliver replies through gritted teeth.

Coach Wilson throws up his hands in anger. "Look at the smug bastard, he's not even sorry. I should bench him for more than one game, maybe that would teach him a lesson"

"Oliver," Malcolm starts, his voice cold and calculated. "If we're back to your childish college behavior, there will be bigger repercussions. I don't care how good of an athlete you are or that you're basically an honorary member of my family. I won't allow anyone to tarnish and endanger the reputation of my team and my family name."

Oliver's head shoots up and he looks at the older man in shock.

"If there are no viable witnesses to the incident, we can just spin the story and say he sustained the injury during last night's practice," the young woman from across the table chimes in. "And the fact that he's not playing is just a precaution to give him time to heal."

Next to him, he can see Sara nod her head. "The fine in form of a donation to a charity will either be made anonymously now or in his name in a few weeks so that no one automatically links the two events together. And Oliver will apologize to the team and the coaches for his behavior."

What the hell?

"What? That's it?" Oliver scoffs. "I apologize and we just sweep it under the rug?"

"Oliver," Sara warns softly.

"No, Sara, I won't sit here and let all of you judge me for something you think I did. I know that I've done some shit in the past, but that's where it is. In the past. You all know how much I've changed in the past ten years and I won't let you diminish who I am now. And I sure as hell won't apologize to the team or the coaches for what I did. Hell, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Sometime during his speech he'd stood up from his seat, fixing all of them with a deadly glare.

Coach Wilson chuckles humorlessly and flicks his hand dismissively. "Like I said, he's not even sorry."

"For saving a young woman from being mugged and raped by three guys twice her size?" Oliver explodes. "No, I'm not!"

The rooms is shocked into silence by his outburst. His chest is heaving with deep, angry breaths.

"Is that what happened?" Tommy is the first to break the silence. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because it shouldn't matter. You of all people should trust that I wouldn't jeopardize my career and my reputation, everything I worked so fucking hard for to achieve, for something as stupid as getting into a fight for no reason. You should all know that I'm not that naive young man anymore."

"So there are witnesses? The woman you saved? She can collaborate the story?" The team publicist speaks up, all business. "This is good, we don't have to spin anything, just use the truth. You'll be a hero."

His mouth falls open at her blunt words. "I won't give you her name."

"Why not? This is great press."

"Why not?" He asks incredulously. "Because she went through absolute hell yesterday and I won't let you drag her into this just so we can get a good news line."

He's had enough of this bullshit.

Resolutely, he pushes back his chair and moves around the table. "Coach, I accept your punishment and will train in the weight room for the rest of the week, as well as pay the fine and not play on Sunday. Sara, prepare a statement for the media, telling them I suffered a small injury and that I won't play because of it. And you," he turns toward the other publicist, pointing his index finger at her. "If I read just a single word that differs from the official story I will sue you and the rest of this football team. Do you understand?"

She nods timidly, swallowing hard, but Oliver can't find it in him to feel sorry. "Good day, ladies, gentlemen," he says and leaves the room.

He doesn't stop walking until he reaches his car, anger still surging through his veins when he unlocks the door.

Damnit! Storming out of a meeting with the team owner and the head coach probably wasn't the smartest thing to do.

He grips the steering wheel a little harder than necessary as he pulls out of his parking space, ignoring the pain flaring from his right hand. The shrill ring of his phone sounds through his car, without looking at the monitor on his dash he presses the accept button on the steering wheel, knowing it'll be Tommy, trying to calm him down.

"Tommy," he sighs. "I appreciate the thought, but I really don't wanna talk about this right now. I'll call you tonight."

He's about to hang up when he hears a timid voice he's been waiting to hear for the past forty-something hours, but who's counting? "Uh, it's Felicity."

He slams on the brakes, the seat belt digging into his chest as the car comes to a stop. And yeah, wow, he's grateful that he was still in the parking lot, otherwise he would've probably caused a major accident.

"Felicity?" He chokes out.

"Yeah," she answers cautiously. "From the other night?"

"Yes, of course. I didn't forget you, I mean, how could I? I just... I wasn't expecting your call," he rambles. Smooth, Oliver.

"I can call back later if now is a bad time," she offers hesitantly.

"No! I mean, it's okay. Now is good. Great, even. I had a pretty shitty day so far and hearing your voice is the best thing that has happened all day." Oh, holy mother of...

He holds his breath, waiting for the telltale beep that tells him she hung up after he went creepy psycho on her just now, but it doesn't come.

Instead, a sharp intake of breath resonates through the speakers. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or kinda creeped out," she finally says with a laugh.

His eyes fall shut for a second. "I'm pretty sure you're not the only one who took that master's class."

"Evidently not," she muses.

And just like that any tension between them is broken. "So what was so shitty about today?"

"Ugh, everything? I'm just happy that I'm on my way home to spend some time with Connor," he replies earnestly.

"Mhh, I'm sorry you had a shitty day. How's your hand?"

Oliver smiles. "Much better, undoubtedly because of your expert medical treatment."

"Hey, don't mock," she warns teasingly.

"Never," he swears, his smile widening. "So what have you been up to in the past two days?"

His question is met by a sudden silence. "Felicity?" he asks, alarmed.

"I... uh, I tracked down James Crawford, Felix Romero and Karl Hauser," she mutters.

A frown appears on Oliver's forehead, racking his brain to try and remember if he's ever heard those names before.

"Who are those guys?" he asks when he comes up empty.

"The ones from the alley."

He sucks in a sharp breath. Shit.

"You went after them? Felicity, do you know how dangerous-"

She cuts him off, "Yes, I know that it would be stupid to go looking for them in person. That's why I tracked them virtually."

What?

"Explain that sentence, please." Yeah, now he's really confused.

She sighs deeply before explaining, "Remember how I said I'm into computers?" She doesn't let him answer and just continues, "I have a master's degree in Cyber Security and Computer Sciences, so I know my way around the internet. I also know how to access traffic cam footage and how to run pictures through a facial recognition software. All of which I did, et voilà, the cops got an anonymous tip for their location and since they all had outstanding warrants for past crimes they are now the newest inhabitants of Iron Heights Penitentiary for the next ten to fifteen years. Well, that and I took the liberty of donating all of the money I could find in their bank accounts to charities that support abuse victims."

I takes Oliver a few seconds to comprehend her rushed words, but when he finally does his mouth falls open and he lets out a disbelieving chuckle. "Remind me to stay on your good side."

"Who says you're on my good side?" She teases and once again she manages to bring the levity back.

God, this woman is extraordinary.

"Well, you did call me back," he plays along.

"Huh, true. Maybe you are on my good side after all."

"Pheew," he breathes out an exaggerated sigh of relief and is immediately rewarded with a hearty laugh from the other end of the line that makes his heart beat a little quicker in his chest.

Then his heart suddenly plummets when he hears a male voice in the background calling Felicity's name. A chances a quick glance at his watch and realizes it's almost eight. Surely she's at home by now, with... a friend? A boyfriend, even? He never actually asked her if she was seeing someone. Maybe she was just being nice when she took his number? But then why would she be calling him?

"Earth to Oliver," she pulls him out of his reverie.

"Huh?"

"I said I gotta go. But before I do that, I wanted to ask you if... uh... you know, if that offer for coffee or something still stands?"

At this point he's pretty sure that his brain simply can't keep up when it comes to this woman. So now she's asking if he really asked her out? But what about the guy in the background?

"Or not," she says with a definite hint of sadness when he doesn't answer. "Right, you were probably just being nice when you offered that and wanted to make me feel better after what happened. I'm sorry I called and-"

"No," he interjects when he finally finds his voice again. "I mean, I was being nice, but not just because of what happened."

"What do you mean by that?"

He takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "I was also at Table Salt that night, having dinner with friends. And I saw you standing at the bar and there was just something about you. During the entire dinner I tried working up the nerve to just get up and talk to you, but before I could, you left. I left a few minutes later, hoping that maybe I would catch you on the street and when I didn't, I took that as a sign that it just wasn't meant to be." He shakes his head. "But then I found you in that alley."

He runs a hand through his hair, nervously scratching the back of his head. "In the restaurant and later at your house I thought you were... intriguing and just different than any other woman I've ever met. I still think that. And I'd really like to get to know you better. So yes, if after my rant you're still interested I'd love to spend some time with you."

He holds his breath as he waits for her answer. In the quiet of his car he can actually hear her swallow and let out uneven breaths.

After a minute, her silence gets too much. "Felicity?" he asks, his heart beating furiously in his chest. "Please say something."

"Wow, that was..." she trails off, probably not a good sign. "Yes."

"Yes?" he questions, a giddy smile forming on his lips.

"Yes," she says with more conviction and he finally releases the breath he's been holding.

"Good. Good. That's..."

"Good?" She teases and he chuckles.

"Very good, even. Are you free on Saturday?"

"I actually gotta work on Saturday," she replies apologetically.

He frowns. "They make you work on the weekend? Where the hell do you work?"

Her responding laugh is like music to his ears. "We have a project deadline coming up in a few weeks, so right now, it's all hands on deck, even on the weekend. But if it makes you feel better, we're getting a hefty bonus for all the overtime we're pulling."

"That makes me feel marginally better," he muses. "When do you get off work?"

"Probably around 5."

"Great, I'll pick you up at your place at, let's say, 6.30?"

"Uhh, yeah, okay, that sounds good. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me, too," he says earnestly, a plan already forming in his head. "See you then, Felicity."

"Bye, Oliver."

He ends the call and lets his head slump back against the head rest, his eyes falling shut. Maybe today wasn't so bad after all.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ARROW ⁂ ⁂ ⁂

So, yeah, she totally isn't freaking out right now. Not at all!

Okay, fine, she's totally freaking out.

But in her defense, this has been one pretty crazy week and it feels like everything is leading to this kind of crescendo tonight. Which is crazy and weird and a bit stupid, considering she was attacked just a few days ago. But nope, all her brain can currently obsess about is her rapidly approaching... time with Oliver.

She bites her bottom lip. She doesn't even know what this will be. Not once during their phone conversation on Thursday did he call it a date. To be fair, she hadn't called it that either, rather sticking with his words and calling it 'coffee or something'. But that was a whole lot closer to 'date' than 'spending time with you', right?

Nope, actually, the logical part of her brain chimes in helpfully, it's just two different ways of avoiding calling it a date or a non-date.

Date or non-date, she has no idea what to wear.

It's 6.15, Oliver's supposed to be here in 15 minutes, and yet, she's standing in her underwear in front of her closet, not having the slightest clue on what she should wear. That's not entirely true though, because Oliver actually gave her a clue.

Dress casually. See you later! O., he had texted her just a few hours ago.

But what's casual? A dress? Jeans? Her beloved Ugg boots?

She lets out a frustrated groan, plops down on her bed and swipes over her phone.

"Caitlin, I don't know what to wear," she whines even before her friend can say anything.

"Hello to you, too, Lis," Caitlin replies disapprovingly. "I'm actually kinda in the middle of something. Can you call Iris?"

"What? No, I called you. Iris doesn't know about Oliver yet and I have," she glances at the alarm clock on her night stand and curses. "Shit, 11 minutes before he picks me up and I'm pretty sure my underwear doesn't constitute as a casual look."

"Well with the right accessories-"

"Caitlin!" she quickly interrupts her friend's joke.

"Right. Casual? Black jeans, your cute white blouse, leather jacket and whatever shoes you want. I gotta go," she rushes out and hangs up, leaving Felicity to stare dumbfoundedly at her phone. What the heck was that about?

Just then, her phone chimes in her hand, giving her the ten minute warning. With a growl she quickly makes her way over to the closet and pulls out the suggested clothes, plus a pair of red sneakers. Luckily she'd already done her make up, so she's ready within just a few minutes, leaving her with just over five minutes to spare. Not bad, considering she was mid freak-out not too long ago.

She forces herself to sit down on the couch while she waits, her heart pounding in her chest. She can't even remember the last time she was this excited before a... before hanging out with someone. Yeah, because that sounds so much better.

At exactly 6.30 (she checks the time on her phone) there's a knock on her door and her heart jumps just a little bit in anticipation when she opens the door.

And boy, that was definitely warranted. He looks incredibly handsome in dark pants, a gray Henley and a light brown jacket. She's pretty sure human beings are not supposed to look so heavenly!

A lopsided smile forms on his lips when she finally manages to tear her eyes away from his body. "Hi," he breathes out. And yup, that's it, she's done.

"Hi," she manages to croak out. Nice, Smoak.

"You look beautiful," he says, a sparkle in his eyes, and holds out his arm. "Shall we?"

Why can't she be that freaking calm and smooth?

She quickly grabs her keys and purse and links her arm with his, pulling the door closed shut. "We shall."

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The first few minutes of the car ride are spent exchanging details about their day. Apparently, he spent time with his son and went to the gym. Of course, he did. Because you're not born looking like a freaking Greek god.

Somehow she manages to start a five minute rant about one of her co-workers who totally messed with her designs today and would pay dearly for crossing her path.

He doesn't cut her off, merely giving her a lazy smile and says, "It's kind of adorable how you're plotting the demise of your colleague", when she tries to apologize for going on a tangent.

"Where are we going, anyway?" she asks, vaguely registering that they are heading away from the city, and they've already left the suburbs. She can make out wide fields and groups of trees lining the side of the road now, everything dipped into darkness.

"We're going to watch a movie," he replies noncommittally.

She frowns. Watching a movie sounds a helluva lot like a date. "I didn't know there were any theaters in this direction," she presses.

A grin spreads on his face. "There's at least one." He slows the car and turns onto a dirt road leading through a little forest. "And we're almost there."

Her frown deepens as she eyes the trunks of trees that are mostly swallowed by the dark. Why is she so calm? Here she is, sitting next to someone who's basically a stranger and who's driving her through a dark forest, miles away from any town. And yet, she feels... safe with him.

They leave the forest and drive into what looks like an open field, he quickly turns off the headlights before she can make out any details, and drives for another few seconds before pulling a U turn and stopping the car.

He turns to her and grins. "We're here."

She looks around, but without the lights from the car, their surroundings are dipped into complete darkness. She swallows. "Uh, and where is here exactly? I'm pretty sure we have vastly different definitions of 'watching a movie'," she quips.

His grin widens and he looks... giddy.

He quickly gets out of the car and opens her door. "You coming?"

She takes his offered hand and hops down from the car. "What are we doing here?" she asks, but dutifully follows him to the back of the car, or rather pickup truck as her brain just now registers that her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness.

He lets go of her hand and she can hear the rustling of a cover being shoved away. He then opens the hatchback and grabs her hand again, the other one producing a flashlight out of nowhere and turning it on.

The bright light blinds her for a moment, but the flare of irritation is quickly forgotten when he shines the light on the bed of the truck. She's greeted by a huge stack of pillows and blankets and a couple of cooler boxes in the far corner.

"What the...?"

"Can you hold this for a sec while I get everything ready?" he asks and doesn't wait for an answer, just shoves the flashlight into her hand and hops on to the truck bed, quickly spreading the pillows and blankets on the floor and against the driver cabin.

When he's done, he inspects his work for a second before nodding approvingly and turning towards her. He crouches down and holds out both of his hands for her.

All she can do is shake her head in silent wonder, still trying to figure out what he's planning as she lays her hands into his, a spark of electricity running through her body at the contact. He pulls her up like she doesn't weigh more than a feather, and yeah, his time at the gym is totally paying off.

He motions for her to sit down and she follows his instructions with another shake of her head, kicking off her shoes and getting comfortable in a sea of pillows and warm blankets, stretching out her legs, while he rummages through one of the boxes, producing two glasses and a bottle of wine. He makes quick work of pouring them each a glass and moves on to the next box, handing her a brown paper bag.

Curiously, she shines the light over the bag and nearly drops it. It's from her favorite fast food place, Big Belly Burger, it smells absolutely delicious and it's still freaking warm. She feels him plop down beside her, his own bag of triple B goodness in his lap.

"Ready to watch a movie?" he asks, his face only illuminated by the little flashlight in her hands.

"How...? What...? I don't..."

He's actually managed to render Felicity Smoak speechless.

He huffs out a laugh and pulls out his phone, typing a quick text to someone before stowing it away again.

"I wasn't sure which movie to pick, because you know, I don't really know you. So I wasn't sure if you liked rom-coms, or horror movies or whatever, but then I remembered seeing a film poster in your house the other day, and I figured if you put up a poster of it you gotta like the movie, right? So tonight we're watching Iron Man", he supplies quickly, his tone indicating that he's caught somewhere between being nervous and excited.

Her mouth has fallen open and she stares at him in wonder and confusion. How were they supposed to watch a movie out here?

Her question is answered just a few seconds later when a giant screen lights up in front of them. And then it suddenly clicks. They're in a drive in theater, one much like she used to go to back in Vegas.

"I didn't even know there was one of these around Starling," she says in amazement, as the opening scene starts.

"Well," he winks at her. "I know a guy who knows a guy who knows the old owner of this place. Now, enjoy."

They spend a third of the movie in relative silence, eating their burgers and fries, until Oliver hands her a bowl of popcorn for dessert, which by the way, is also warm. How the hell did he mange to do that?

Once Tony Stark has returned safely to L.A. she turns around to face Oliver. "I must say, I'm impressed."

"Yeah?" he asks with a lazy smile tracing his lips. "So you're enjoying yourself?"

"Definitely. Can't say I've ever done something like this before."

"So, good first date then?"

She tilts her head at the question, taking in his face, illuminated by the flickering lights of the screen. Despite his nonchalant smile, he looks nervous and uncertain. At least she isn't the only one who's unsure how to categorize this.

"Is it?" She questions gently. "A date, I mean?"

His eyes widen and he's scrambling for words, and yeah, wow, that's kind of adorable. "I... yeah... I mean with the implication of a movie and..." He trails off and briefly lets his eyes slide shut. "I thought... I mean, if you want it to be. A date. Otherwise, we can just call it... uh, hanging out?"

She bites the tip of her tongue, fighting the full blown grin that is threatening to spread out on her lips, and her hand finds his, threading their fingers together. "It's a date."

His smile is absolutely radiant and infectious and for a few long seconds they just sit there on the back of his truck in a deserted field somewhere outside of Starling, smiling at each others like idiots.

Ignoring the movie, they fall into an easy conversation about where they grew up and Felicity tells him about her time in Vegas, making it out of there by getting accepted into MIT and finally taking a job in Starling City five years ago.

"And for a little over a year I've been the head of the IT department at MG," she finishes proudly.

And she really is proud of that fact, being the youngest department head in the history of the company at just 23, was and still is an accomplishment that she worked hard for and that she is immensely proud of.

"Wait, MG? As in Merlyn Global?"

She nods happily, but the flicker of... something that runs across his face doesn't escape her notice. "But I'm thinking about applying for a position at Queen Consolidated, there are rumors coming down the grapevine that the current head of Applied Sciences is planning on retiring by the end of next year, and that's something I'm interested in. But, I don't know, maybe it's too big a step. So yeah, we'll see what happens."

His only response is a mute nod, and even though his behavior seems a bit off, she decides to ignore it for now, giving him the chance to talk about whatever is bothering him when he's ready.

"So you're originally from Starling?" she asks, and he takes the out with a small smile.

"Born and bred. Even though I bounced around the country for a bit after high school, getting kicked out of a few colleges before my parents had enough and got me into Starling City University," he replies, dipping his head sheepishly. Felicity gives his hand a light squeeze, encouraging him to go on.

"I didn't really take it seriously for the first year, skipping classes left and right, getting into trouble with my friends. I was a mess. And then one day, a girl, that I couldn't even remember ever meeting before, shows up at my apartment, claiming that she's pregnant with my child," he smiles wistfully. "It took me some time fathom the idea of becoming a father especially under those circumstances, but when I finally did, I realized that I had to change, drastically. And I did. I dialed down the partying, chose to avoid certain "friends", got my apartment baby-proofed, read every book out there on becoming a parent, but of course I was still utterly unprepared when Connor came into this world." He lets out a chuckle.

"With the help of my family and friends I managed to juggle being a father and finishing my Bachelor's degree. I don't know what I would've done without their unconditional and unwavering support."

Felicity smiles brightly at him, a little surprised by how easily he's opening up about his troubled past. But she's grateful that he's trusting her with that knowledge about him. By the way he talks and how his facial expressions change ever so slightly while he speaks she assumes that this is something that is still weighing heavily on him. She really can't blame him. From her own experience she knows that things from the past tend to come back around to haunt you at some point.

"But you never got back together with Connor's mother?" she vocalizes the question that is burning on the tip of her tongue.

"No, she moved into my apartment after she broke the news to me and we came to an agreement. I paid for everything concerning Connor and she lived in her own room in my apartment, never having to worry about anything. We wanted him to grow up with both of his parents around, even if we weren't together."

She narrows her eyes a bit as she notices something. "That's a slightly troubling use of past tense."

He scratches the back of his head nervously. "Uh, she died in an accident 4 years ago."

"Oh God, I'm sorry."

He nods his head sadly. "Despite whatever obstacles we faced in our pretty unorthodox relationship and whatever differences we had over the years, I never wanted my son to grow up without his mother."

They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching as Iron Man takes flight for the first time, before a buzzing sensation comes from Oliver's pant pocket and he scrambles to retrieve his phone.

"Speak of the devil. Sorry, I know this is incredibly rude, but I always keep the phone on in case of an emergency," he says apologetically.

A photo of Connor flashes across the screen and she smiles at Oliver, waving her hand at the phone. "Don't worry. Go ahead."

"Hey Con, what's up?" he asks and immediately frowns. "Have you told Aunt Thea?" Pause. "Okay, can you put her on?"

He shoots her another apologetic smile. "Hey Thea, what's happening?" "Okay, did you take his temperature? Does he have any other symptoms?" He lets out a lengthy sigh. "Maybe he just caught some kind of bug, he was fine earlier. But yeah, I'm on my way."

He hangs up and turns to Felicity. "I am so sorry, but I'll have to cut this short. Connor is coming down with something and he asked me to come home. I don't-"

She takes his free hand into both of hers. "Hey, it's fine. Family comes first, I understand that."

"God, you're amazing," he breathes out and by the sudden tinge on his cheeks she figures he didn't mean to say that out loud.

Instead of commenting on it, she just tugs on his hand and moves towards her shoes. They make quick work of cleaning up, and somewhere along the way, Oliver calls whoever is operating the projector, the field plunges into darkness once again when the film stops playing.

They chat a little more on the ride back to her house and she simply can't suppress a happy smile and the feeling of a million butterflies going crazy in her stomach when he grabs her hand, resting their intertwined fingers on her thigh, while running lazy circles with his thumb over her skin.

He walks her to her door, hands gravitating toward each other again. When they stop in front of her door she fidgets with the keys in her free hand in nervous anticipation of what's to come... or not to come.

Usually she's not one to move this fast when it comes to men and dating and all that. Hell, her only serious boyfriend in college had to wait three dates before she let him kiss her, trying to discern if he was being serious about dating her and wanting to get to know him before she let her heart get too invested. Even though she'd been oh so cautious then, he'd still gone and shattered her heart into a million pieces.

So why is she standing on her porch now, after a first date with a guy she barely knows, actually longing for him to kiss her?

His gaze flickers from her eyes to her mouth and she just knows that he's thinking about it, too. His eyes fall shut and when he opens them, they dart to the ceiling and then back to her eyes.

He takes a deep breath before speaking. "I'm sorry, the night had to end so abruptly. I really wanted to spend more time with you."

She smiles. "There's always another time."

He huffs out a low laugh. "Yeah, would I seem a bit too eager and desperate if I ask you if you have plans for tomorrow night?"

She bites her lip and pretends to contemplate his question. "Mhh," she hums. "I would say that sounds pretty good, but..."

His eyebrows scrunch up into a frown. "But what?" There's a hint of uncertainty in his voice that she finds utterly endearing.

"But before we make any plans, how about you check on Connor first, see how he's doing and then give me call?" she suggests gently.

"Uh, yeah, that makes sense," he breathes out in relief. "I'll call you later."

He leans towards her then and she holds her breath, only releasing it when his lips touch her cheek, the rough scratch of his beard creating a delicious contrast to his soft lips. He lingers for a few seconds, his hot breath fanning over her skin, creating shivers that run through her body.

He slowly pulls back, searching her eyes. "I had a really great time with you, Felicity."

Her name coming from his lips in a husky tone is doing things to her that she can't quite process at that moment. "Me too. I hope Connor feels better and that we get to continue this soon." She smiles up at him. "Good night, Oliver."

After one more tug on her hands and a full blown smile thrown her way, he lets go. "Good night."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

With long strides he reaches his son's bedroom door, opening it quietly. Thea greeted him downstairs with a guilty expression on her face, just telling him to talk to Connor before grabbing her things and leaving his apartment. That was... odd.

Connor is sitting cross-legged on his bed, tablet in his hands, swiping furiously over the screen.

"Hey, kiddo," Oliver greets him, a suspicion forming in the pit of his stomach.

His son's head shoots up and his wide eyes meet his. "Dad, you're already home," he says, and quickly places the tablet next to him, scrambling under the covers of his bed.

Oliver narrows his eyes as he approaches the bed. "Yeah, you told me you were sick, so I came home."

"Right." The boy coughs and clears his throat, scratching his neck nervously. "Yeah, I'm not feeling well," he croaks out.

"Huh," Oliver muses as he plops down to sit on the edge of the bed. "I thought you had a fever and a headache?"

His son's eyes widen and he scrambles for an answer. "Uhh..."

Oliver lets out a deep exhale. "What's going on, Connor? Why did you fake being sick?"

Connor's head dips and his eyes fix on his hands in his lap. "I was really worried, Con."

"I'm sorry, Dad," he mumbles.

Oliver nods slowly. "Why did you do it?" he asks softly, sensing that there's more to this whole thing.

"I don't know," Connor replies quietly and looks up, meeting his father's raised eyebrows. "I thought you would forget about me," he finally whispers, and his son's watery eyes break Oliver's heart a little.

He lays his hands on his son's shoulders. "I'll never forget about you, kiddo. Why would you even think that?"

"Because all you were talking about this week was Felicity and how you were excited to see her again."

Oliver racks his brain. Had he really talked about her that much?

"What if you like her more than me?"

"Connor," he sighs. "There's no one in this world that I will ever love more than you." Woah, wait, where had the word 'love' come from?

"But you were so excited to see her."

"Yes, I was," Oliver sighs. "I like her, Con. I like talking to her and spending time with her. She's... amazing, but whatever I have with her will never change how special you are to me. No one will ever change that. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," he mumbles and Oliver ruffles his sandy blonde locks and leans forward to press a kiss against his temple.

"Come on, it's time to sleep, buddy. And don't forget: today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you," he says softly and presses the top of his index finger against Connor's chest, right over his heart while the little boy does the same on his chest.

Connor gives him a goofy smile at their nightly ritual and scoots down under the covers until only his head is sticking out. "I love you, dad."

Oliver presses another kiss to his son's forehead. "I love you, too."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

A/N: Aww, some Daddy!Oliver. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Next up: date numero 2, and fluff, fluff and more fluff.

That quote at the end is by Dr. Suess!

Let me know what you think and if there's something you'd like to see included in the story!

P.S.: Sorry, but no LIAKOW update tonight. Keep an eye out for it on Monday or Tuesday ;)