Chapter title: Forward Pass

A/N: I'm back ;) Thanks to everybody who took the time to leave me a comment/review. Every single one is like a little piece of instant happiness! Not sure why reviews dropped by 50!% on FF but at least AO3 is steady. I'm kind of preferring that page anyway, the whole replying to comments thing over there is much easier and it doesn't fuck up the formatting (are you reading this, FF officials?)!
Anyway, if you haven't seen it yet, I finished LIAKOW on Tuesday.

Happy reading and an amazing weekend to you all! :)

Definition: forward pass, a pass that touches a person, object, or the ground closer to the opponent's end line than where it was released from. (Source: Wikipedia)

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"Woah, woah, woah. Go back to the part where you bought a drive in theater for a date," Tommy demands, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Oliver puts the bowl of pancake batter down on the kitchen island. "That's what you find most memorable about what happened last night? Not the fact that Connor faked being sick to get me to come home?" he asks his best friend with a raised eyebrow.

"Dude," Tommy says, plopping a piece of banana in his mouth, "Can you blame him? When was the last time you went on a date that you were actually excited about and that wasn't set up by Sara or your mother?"

He regards him with a scowl. That's actually a pretty good question. When was the last time he looked forward to a date?

He can't remember.

"Fine. Point taken, but still... He lied to me," he argues. "We don't do that. That's not how our relationship works."

Tommy reaches over to pat his shoulder. "Want me to talk to him? Maybe he'll be more open about it with me."

"Sure, you can try. Just don't push him."

"Oh please," his best friend scoffs. "I'm cool Uncle Tommy, he'll tell me everything."

Oliver narrows his eyes, trying to look stern. "You know, it doesn't really count if you have to bribe him with half the concession stand, right?"

Tommy lets out an affronted gasp and clasps a hand over his chest. "How dare you, Oliver Queen? He likes me because I'm the coolest godfather in the history of godfathers. Not because I buy his affection."

Oliver snorts at the dramatic tone in his voice. "Yeah, right, whatever helps you sleep at night."

"You couldn't sleep, Uncle Tommy?" Comes the tired voice of Connor from the stairs.

Tommy runs over to him, scoops him up from the floor, throwing him over his shoulder and turning in a circle, making Connor squeal in excitement. "Of course I couldn't sleep. I was way too excited for today," he says and places the grinning boy on top of the kitchen island.

"What are we gonna do?" he asks excitedly, basically bouncing on the marble surface.

"Well, my tiny friend," Tommy begins seriously. "First, we're gonna watch the Archers kick some Islander butt, then we'll grab dinner with Laurel at Big Belly Burger, and then, drum roll, please." He waits for Connor to drum his hands on the marble counter. "Movie night and sleep over at my place!"

Connor cheers and gives Tommy an enthusiastic double high five. Oliver just shakes his head, chuckling under his breath, while he flips the first batch of pancakes.

Sometimes he can't believe his luck. He doesn't know what he would have done for the past ten years if he hadn't had his family and friends' unconditional support. Especially his best friend had stepped up in a major way, when he'd told him about Sandra being pregnant. Much like Oliver, Tommy hadn't taken life very seriously, growing up with everything anyone could ever dream of at his disposal, with more money in his trust fund than he could ever spend. Together they had taken girls on impromptu trips to Europe or Asia just because they could. In a way, Connor had saved them both before they could go further down the path of self-destruction.

"Come on, guys," he says and pulls himself out of his thoughts. "Pancakes are ready. You're gonna need the energy for today."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"So, what's your next move?" Tommy asks curiously once Connor has gone upstairs to change.

"My next move for what?"

"Felicity," Tommy says in duh tone. "If the date went as well as you made it seem to be she couldn't have been happy that you just cut it short like that."

Oliver thinks back to her warm smile and the understanding look in her eyes and the way she'd held his hands when he'd told her he had to leave. Family comes first.

"Yeah, I mean, I think she enjoyed herself, but she also understood why I had to leave." He shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm going on another date with her tonight."

"Wait, what?" Tommy asks in disbelief. "Two dates in a row?" He lets that information sink in for a moment. "You really like her." It's not really a question, more of a realization of sorts.

Oliver smiles at his best friend, holding his coffee mug in both hands. "I do. She's... special."

A grin spreads across Tommy's face. "It's good to see you like this, man. I know that you love Connor more than anything in this world, but sometimes I feel like your holding your life back for his sake. You deserve to be happy!"

He lets his friend's words wash over him. He is happy. Why wouldn't he be? He has an amazing son, a supportive family, friends that are willing to go through thick and thin with him, and a job that allows him to do what he loves. And yet, he can't deny that he feels like something or rather someone is missing from his life.

Ever since he found out that Sandra was pregnant he'd been more careful when it came to choosing his dates. And as the years had gone by and his career had picked up, his love life had been reduced to an almost non-existent state. In nine years, he'd never introduced any of the few women he'd dated seriously to Connor. He'd never even felt the urge to do it. Instead, he'd always kept his life with Connor separate from his love life. Partly because he could never be entirely sure if the women he dated were honestly interested in him or just wanted their 15 minutes of fame on the arm of a well-known quarterback and billionaire.

Oh, he went on dates, but it was never serious. Sara or his mother would find him beautiful women to bring to the various charity galas or official team events he had to attend, but he hadn't been in an actual relationship with anyone for years now.

And that was more than okay for the longest time. He hadn't really realized that there had been that particular void, until Felicity had come crashing into his life. And now, he suddenly finds himself wanting to date. But only her.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Tommy asks with a smug grin on his face.

Oliver throws a dish towel at him, ignoring his knowing chuckle. "Have fun today and keep Con out of trouble."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ARROW ⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"You went to a drive-in theater?" Caitlin asks and takes a sip of her coffee. "I didn't even know there still was one of those around here."

They're sitting in their favorite cafe for their usual Sunday brunch and she'd just filled Caitlin in on her date with Oliver.

Felicity tilts her head in thought. "Yeah, I didn't know either. He said he knew someone who knew someone and that's how he managed to set us up. I mean, it was amazing, Kate," she says and tries really hard not to gush too much. "It was just us, in the back of his truck, he brought food from Big Belly Burger and he somehow got them to play one of my favorite movies. He just... thought of everything." She shakes her head a little, remembering how nervous he'd been when he'd dropped her off at her house after the date had ended way too early.

"This was without a doubt the best first date I've ever been on despite the sudden end."

"Aww," Caitlin coos next to her, laying her hand of Felicity's. "But you gotta admit, the fact that he rushed home to be there for his son makes him even cuter, doesn't it? There's just something so sexy about a father with his baby."

Felicity raises a playful eyebrow. "Do you have a fetish you've never told me about? Besides, his son is like eight or nine years old and not a baby."

Caitlin frowns at that. "Wait, how old is Oliver?"

"Twenty-nine, I think," Felicity answers, remembering his comment when they'd talk about her love for computers, but not liking where this conversation is headed.

Caitlin's frown deepens. "So he started pretty early, huh?"

"So what?" Felicity questions and counters her friend's frown with one of her own. "I don't think that the whole thing was exactly planned."

"Guess he loses a few points for being irresponsible," Caitlin mutters, but Felicity still hears her comment.

"You don't even know him," she quickly retorts, affronted on his behalf. The sudden need to defend him, especially when she remembers how he told her just how much his son changed his life, washes over her.

"But you do?" Her friend asks. "You met this guy, like, five days ago. No matter how good that date was last night, you don't really know him either, Lis."

Felicity grinds her teeth together in exasperation. Caitlin actually has a point. Damn her friend for being right. "He's just... different," she finally responds, shrugging helplessly, unable to describe her impression of Oliver.

Caitlin just sighs. "Well, since his background check didn't turn up any too scandalous skeletons in his closet..."

Felicity fidgets with her mug, and misses how her friend narrows her eyes dangerously at her. "Felicity, you did do a background check on him, didn't you?"

"Uhh..."

"You have these incredible computer skills and don't use them?" Her sigh is decidedly exasperated and disbelieving.

"I just feel like it's not fair, you know, to know so much about a person before even really talking to them," Felicity argues. "I wanted to give him a chance to make his own impression without me knowing stuff about him that no first date should ever know."

"Because he's different," the brunette concludes.

"Yeah," Felicity shrugs again. "He really is."

"You know I'm just looking out for you, Lis. I don't ever wanna see a guy hurt you like he-who-must-not-be-named."

Felicity gives her her best 'really?!' look. "You can say his name, Kate. It's been years and yeah, maybe it still hurts to think about what he did, but that doesn't mean we can't talk about it."

Caitlin scoffs. "He doesn't even deserve to be called by his real name, that douchey slimebag."

Felicity huffs out a laugh. "I love you Kate, I really do, but you gotta trust me on this. Oliver's a good guy and I like spending time with him and I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. Let him tell me about himself in his own pace. I'm doing the same when it comes to talking about my life. We're just taking one step at a time."

"I just want you to be with someone who makes you happy and who appreciates you for who you are!" Caitlin says and smiles at her.

"I really think he could be that guy."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

For the second time within 24 hours, she finds herself pacing through her house, nervously waiting for Oliver to pick her up. Why is she even nervous? They already spent an amazing evening together, and yet, there's still this tingly feeling of nervous anticipation in the pit of her stomach.

The door bell rings and she crosses the room in a few long strides, grabbing her bright red coat on the way. When she opens the door, she's greeted by a smiling Oliver, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants, he has a beanie on his head and a thick scarf wrapped around his neck. He looks utterly cute.

He huffs out a laugh. "You don't look so bad yourself."

She groans in frustration. Of course, she'd said that out loud. "Sorry, most of the times my mouth works faster than my brain."

"Yeah," he says. "I think we've already established your talents when it comes to your mouth."

Her mouth falls open and she stares at him. Uh, what?

He laughs again and grabs her hand. "I'm talking about your babbling, Felicity."

Oh, right. Of course.

She laughs nervously, but lets him tug her along, closing the door and following him to his car, a silver Mercedes SUV. "Just how many cars do you have?" she blurts out before she can stop herself.

His head whips around to meet her questioning gaze. "Uh, why do you ask?"

"Because this is the third time I've seen you, and you were driving a different car each time," she points out.

They stop in front of the passenger door and he shifts a little. "Right, uh," he starts. "I have a few."

Well, that's a specific answer. What did he say about where he worked? Maybe she should consider changing career paths.

He opens the door for her and motions for her to get in. That's apparently one way to end a line of questioning you don't like. But why is he so reluctant to tell her about why he owns at least three different cars? If he's successful in his job he should be proud of it, right?

A hand curling around hers in her lap pulls her out of her thoughts. She looks up, but he's already pulling away from the curb, his eyes glued to the street, while his thumb rubs infuriating, slow circles over her skin. For now, she decides to let it slide.

One step at a time.

A few minutes pass in silence before she grows restless. "Why do you never tell me where we're going or what we're doing?"

His thumb stops moving for a second before resuming its previous circling motion, and his head turns toward her when he stops at a red light. There's a little smile playing on his lips that's both, shy and excited at the same time.

"Maybe I like to surprise you."

She tilts her head. "What if I don't like surprises?" she challenges.

His smile spreads wider as he considers her question. "Well, considering that last night was kind of full of surprises I don't think you would've agreed to another date with me."

"Point taken, I guess," she says and her smile matches his.

The loud sound of a car horn behind them lets them both flinch, and Oliver is quick to focus back on the road.

"Do you wanna know?" he asks after they drive for a few more blocks.

"If you're willing to tell me, sure."

"Have you ever been to Avalon Park?"

"Can't say that I have. When I think of it, I actually haven't seen much of Starling beside my neighborhood, the business district and everything that lies in between the two." She shrugs. "I've been so busy with work ever since I moved here that I've never spent much time exploring the city, I guess."

"Well, then I'll gladly expand your horizon if you let me."

"That sounds like a fantastic idea."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

After another fifteen minutes, Oliver pulls into a parking lot close to the park entrance. Avalon Park is situated on a hill in the southern part of Starling, overlooking the city.

A brisk wind greets her when Oliver opens her door and holds out his hand for her to take. Damn, it's freezing. She should've brought gloves and a scarf. It's interesting that even after living here for five years, it still manages to surprise her how cold it can get.

As if he had read her mind, he opens the rear door on her side and pulls out a bag from one of the boutiques that she's walked by in the Starling City Mall a few dozen times without ever stepping foot in there. She raises her eyebrows in question as he holds out the bag to her.

"Uhh, what are you doing?"

That infuriating lopsided smile finds its way back onto his lips. "Well, it can get pretty cold up here, especially once the sun sets," he shrugs.

"You could've just told me that I needed to bring warmer clothes," she argues.

He shrugs again. "Where's the fun in that? Please take the bag."

She stares at him for a few more defiant seconds, before another gust of ice cold wind sweeps across her face, and her resolve quickly crumbles.

She lets him hold the bag while she inspects its contents. There's a matching set of a dark blue scarf, a beanie and gloves, all made of incredibly soft and yet thick material.

Quickly, she puts everything on, instantly reveling in the new-found softness and warmth. "Just so you know, I'm not keeping these," she says defiantly.

His smile falls at that. "Why not? They're a gift."

Felicity sighs deeply. "Because I don't like to be given gifts, especially as early as the second date, and even more so if they're incredible expensive."

"But-" he tries to argue, but she cuts him off with a raised hand.

"It's just a thing with me, okay? My ex always gave me stuff, thinking it would make me forget about the shitty way he treated me and our relationship. Spoiler alert: it didn't make me forget, it actually made everything so much worse. Gifts just make me feel cheap and make it seem like someone is trying to buy my affection."

He just looks at her intently for the longest time, almost to a point where she thinks she might have scared him off for good, when he suddenly grabs both of her hands in his, huffing out a breathless chuckle while he shakes his head lightly. "You, Felicity, are remarkable. I didn't mean to offend you with this. You just made me realize once again how far out of my depths I am with you."

She tilts her head in a silent question.

"I told you last night, you're unlike any other woman I've ever met and you just proved to me again how incredibly unique you are."

His compliment (that was a compliment, right?) leaves her speechless, so she just ends up smiling sheepishly at him.

Oliver lets go of one hand and tugs on the other one as they make their way to the entrance.

They walk along the paths of Avalon Park for about half an hour, and by the time they reach their destination, the sun has fully set. She can't help but grin widely when she realizes what Oliver has planned for today. They come to a halt at the edge of an ice rink, right there, in the middle of the park.

"Aw, this reminds me of the Frog Pond in Boston Common. We always went there during the winter whenever we needed a time out from studying," she says with a wide smile.

"So you're game for a few rounds on the ice?" he challenges, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, you're on," she accepts the challenge without missing a beat. "But there's no one else. Are you sure it's still open?"

He scrunches up his eyebrows and looks around. "Huh, well, there's still light on in the ticket booth over there. Why don't you wait here while I check? What size do you wear?"

She tells him her size, and he pulls his scarf a little higher over his mouth and nose when there's another gust of wind, before he scurries off towards the little wooden booth.

Five minutes later he returns to her with two pairs of skates in his hands, holding one out to her. They quickly change into the footwear and carefully make their way onto the ice. It takes her a few yards to get used to the feeling of being on the ice again, but once she does, she picks up her pace a little bit, turning in a wide circle to come back to Oliver.

Apparently, he's not quite as confident on the ice as her. He takes a few awkward steps, his arms stretched out to balance his movements.

"So you're game for a few rounds," she repeats his earlier challenge and earns herself a frustrated glare.

"I kinda hoped this was like riding a bike, you know?" he presses out between gritted teeth, trying hard not to fall. "I used to skate all the time when I was a kid, but apparently those are skills that you can forget."

She stops right in front of him and holds out both hands. "Come one, big shot," she teases playfully.

He sighs as he swallows his pride and takes her hands. Even though they'd been holding hands basically the whole time during their date so far and even though they're both wearing gloves, she feels a spark ignite a warm and cozy feeling in her when he touches her.

She shoots him a goofy grin when she starts moving backwards slowly, instructing him to move towards her. Ever so slowly they make their way over the ice. There are a few moments when he almost loses his balance, but she always manages to hold him upright with just the right amount of support on his hands.

After ten minutes or so, she lets go of one of his hands and moves to his left, so they can skate side-by-side. They skate few rounds, gaining speed with every fall-free turn. When he finally gains enough confidence in his abilities he dares to look up from the ice and where he's going, and instead looks up to her.

Her breath catches in her throat. To be fair, she hasn't known him for a very long time, but this, with his blue eyes shimmering with glee and an honest to god smile that stretches from one ear to the other, must be the happiest and most carefree she's ever seen him. There's a tingly sensation in her stomach that makes her feel giddy and happy that she's here to witness this moment and, dare she say, maybe even be the reason for his good mood.

They slowly come to a stop close to where they deposited their things earlier. She bends down to her purse and retrieves her phone form her purse.

"Come here," she motions for him to come closer as she takes off her glove and opens the camera app.

He obliges and slowly comes closer. She stretches the arm with the camera out while she bands the other one around his waist, urging him to come closer. In the next second, she has to swallow hard at the very welcome feeling of his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her into his warm body.

"Ready?" she asks and sees him nod in the corner of eye.

Just when she's about to press her thumb to the screen, he dips his head and she almost drops her phone when she feels his soft lips against her cheek. She quickly steadies herself and grins happily into the camera before taking a couple of photos.

He pulls away form her with a goofy grin on his face. "I've wanted to do that ever since you opened the door."

Had it not been for his strong arms still holding her to him, she would've probably lost her balance.

"Ready for part two?" he asks, looking down at her with that same giddy and excited expression like last night.

"Part two?" she questions.

"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p'. "What's a date without food?"

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

She tries really hard not to gape. She really does.

And completely fails.

Her mouth is hanging slightly open when she enters his gigantic loft from his private elevator, thank you very much. She's pretty sure her eyes have reached the approximate size of saucers, but she just can't help herself.

She lets herself be tugged into the vast open space by Oliver who's apparently oblivious to her current stupor.

"Are you sure you're okay with us having dinner here? I know you said it's fine, but I really don't want you to feel obligated to say yes. We can go to a restaurant if you want."

His words go straight over her head. "Huh?" is all she manages to say.

That makes him turn around on the spot, almost making her crash into him. "You okay?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.

She can't contain the disbelieving huff of laughter that escapes from her lips. "Yeah, just trying to process... this," she shrugs and waves her free hand around vaguely. "Your place is ginormous and so not what I expected."

A delicious smell from the open plan kitchen hits her. "You cooked already?" she asks, her eyes widening again.

They make their way towards the kitchen. "No, I wish," he chuckles. "I know how to cook easy stuff, but actually, one of my friends helped me with this."

She looks up at him and a sheepish smile is playing on his lips. "Well, since my cooking abilities are limited to boiling water, I'm not really one to judge," she quips, "And if this is only half as good as it smells, I'm sure it'll be fantastic."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ARROW ⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"Oh my God," she groans before swallowing her piece of steak. "This is amazing."

He has to concentrate very hard on his plate to ignore the sound she just made and to pull his mind out of the gutter.

"Who's your friend and is he single?" she demands. "I want to marry whoever made this."

A chuckle ripples from his throat. "She is actually in a happy relationship."

"Ugh, why are all the good ones taken?" she complains and takes another bite of the steak.

"Wait until we get to dessert," Oliver teases playfully.

He watches as her eyes widen and she sucks in a deep breath, obviously forgetting that she still had food in her mouth. She chokes a little, coughing a few times before forcing down the persistent piece of meat with a healthy gulp of her red wine.

"Sorry", he says sheepishly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she croaks out and clears her throat again, her cheeks tinged in a cute shade of pink. "I just had a, uh, vivid mental picture of dessert."

It's his time to suck in a deep breath.

Oh.

Dessert. Right.

"I didn't mean it that way," he quickly assures her. "I mean not that I don't want... because you are..." He closes his mouth with a snap and silently counts down from five. "It's Mousse au chocolat. The dessert, I mean."

Would it look weird if he facepalmed himself right then and there? Yeah? Oh-kay.

When he looks up to meet her gaze, there's a glint of mischief sparkling in her blue eyes that makes a shiver run through his body.

"Okay," she breathes out, sly grin on her face as she takes another sip of her wine.

They end up eating the dessert on his couch while the first episode of Game of Thrones plays on his giant flat-screen TV. She'd been shocked when he hadn't understood one of her quips earlier that was apparently a reference to this show, so she suggested that they should watch it together. He, of course, was happy to oblige. Because evidently she had somehow managed to wrap him around her little finger in the matter of two dates.

Oh, Tommy would have a field day if he saw him like this, basically hanging onto any word that come from her lips about Westeros and Dothraki and a whole bunch of stuff he doesn't understand. At all.

But he doesn't care, because hearing her enthusiastic voice, and seeing a spark in her eyes while trying not to be hit by one of her hands as she's accompanying her explanations with wild hand gestures, makes him melt just a little bit on the inside.

There's this yearning inside of him that he's never felt before. And a feeling of rightness.

It feels right to have her sitting just inches away from him on his couch in his apartment, while she passionately drags him into a world of fiction. It feels right that their bodies seem to be like magnets, magically pulling towards each other with every passing minute until he feels her thigh press against his knee. It feels right to be with her. She feels right.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

They're well into the third episode, her head is resting on his shoulders as they watch in silence, when she catches a glimpse of his watch and bolts upright.

"Oh my god, it's past 11. I gotta be at work tomorrow morning at 8," she exclaims and starts to gather her things hastily.

He blinks a couple of times and glares at his traitorous watch. It had been such a perfect night and this stupid little gadget had made it come to an abrupt end.

With a sigh he runs a hand over his eyes and gets up from the couch. "I'll drive you home."

She whips around. "What? No! That's a twenty minute ride for one way. I'll just take a cab."

He steps closer, laying a hand on her forearm. "It's more like ten minutes at this time of the day, and I won't take no for answer on this."

She stares up at him and for a second he thinks she'll fight him on this, but then her shoulders sag and she nods. "Okay. Thank you."

They make it to her house in just under ten minutes and Oliver mentally curses himself for not driving slower. He really doesn't want this date to end.

Slowly, he walks her to her door, his hand grasping hers gently. She had made good on her word and left the hat, scarf and gloves at his place, making him shake his head in disbelief once again.

When they reach her door, he's reluctant to let go of her hand. When has he turned into this giant sap? Oh right, when Felicity had stepped into his life.

"Tonight was amazing, Oliver," she says breathlessly.

At least he's not the only one who's affected.

"I didn't think you could top last night, but, wow, you've really outdone yourself today."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, because I sure did," he tells her earnestly. "Is it okay if I call you tomorrow?"

Her lips spread into a wide smile. "More than okay."

He leans down and hears her breath hitch a little when he presses a kiss to her cheek. When he pulls away, he catches a glint of something (disappointment, maybe?) in her eyes.

"Good night, Felicity," he whispers and turns around before he can do anything rash that she isn't ready for.

"Oliver," she exclaims and he whirls around, just in time to catch her as she crashes into him, her hands grabbing the sides of his face, pulling him down to her, while she steps on her tip toes. They meet in the middle for a slow and languid kiss, her lips moving against his with fervor that he all too happily matches. He almost loses it when her tongue runs of his bottom lip.

He opens his mouth, engaging her tongue in a passionate duel while his hands wander down to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer into his body. When air finally becomes a necessity and they pull apart only far enough to lean their foreheads against each other, he doesn't even know how much time has passed. It could be seconds or minutes or hours.

He doesn't care. All he cares about is the beautiful and completely unpredictable blonde woman in his arms that just kissed him senseless.

He opens his eyes, only to find that hers are still closed. Their breaths are mingling in the cold November air with every puff. When she finally opens her eyes, they are a little glazed over.

He can't help himself when he dips his head down and presses a short kiss to her slightly swollen lips.

She huffs a little when they part again. "Wow," she breathes out and then chuckles. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to attack you like that."

Oliver lets out a chuckle of his own. "Believe me, you can attack me like that whenever you want. If you didn't notice, I was a very willing participant."

"Oh, I noticed," she teases. "Don't forget to call tomorrow."

"I won't," he swears and kisses her one last time before taking a step back. "Good night, Felicity."

"Good night, Oliver."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

A/N: Quick thing: it's highly unlikely that I'll update next week because it's my last few days in Ecuador before I go back home for a bit. Anyways, I'll be traveling from Wednesday to Friday and I don't think I'll get a whole lotta writing done. I hear that reviews help. *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*

No, but seriously, let me know if you liked the chapter ;)

BTW, the ice skating thing was partly inspired by dettiot's amazing Between Love and Skate, which is also a sports AU, so if you enjoy my story you'll probably like that one, too!