Chapter title: Winning Streak

A/N: Sorry, it took me so long, but between traveling, freezing my ass off in New York, some more traveling, jet lag, and adjusting to yet another country's lifestyle, I just didn't find the time to write. Anyways, thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter. It's greatly appreciated :)

Happy reading and a beautiful weekend to you all!

Definition: winning streak, refers to a consecutive number of games won. (Source: Wikipedia)

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Two weeks.

Fourteen days.

Three hundred and twenty hours. Give or take a few.

That's how long it's been since he last saw her.

Too long in his opinion. Too fucking long.

Their little hiatus wasn't by choice, but there was just nothing they could do about it. After the loss his team had suffered with the back-up quarterback playing a horrible game, the media had taken a renewed interest in Oliver's injury, questioning if it was really bad enough to have him sit out a game and if there was more to the whole story.

So instead of finding time to spend with Felicity, he had put in some extra work out sessions and had met with his team mates and coaches to quell their doubts of him in their roots. They have a realistic shot at winning the Super Bowl that year, with one of the best team in the club's recent history, and everybody's looking at him to lead them to his second championship ring. He really doesn't want to disappoint them.

And then, of course, it was Thanksgiving and even though he didn't have a game on Thursday, he had spent the holiday training and then with his family. His fleeting thoughts of asking her to join his family's celebration had quickly been shut down when she'd excitedly told him about meeting up with friends in Boston for the long weekend.

He couldn't help but smile goofily when he heard the incredible excitement in her voice. From previous conversations he knew that she had a few friends in Starling, some of which went to MIT with her, but she'd also noted with an undeniable hint of sadness that her job kept her so busy that she didn't see them as much as she'd like.

Oliver knows what that feels like. Between being a single father and a professional athlete, plus the whole heir to a multi-billion corporation thing, he finds himself with only a handful of people he would actually consider as good friends, all of which are somehow connected to his job. And you know what? He's actually happy with that. He knows that the few friends that he does have, would do anything for him and Connor, just as much as he'd walk through fire for them. He simply doesn't have the time or the muse to look for new friends. Especially, because, with strangers, he can never tell if they really want to be his friends or if they just want to be associated with him for his success.

If he's honest with himself, that's one of the reasons why he's so drawn to Felicity. She's probably the only woman in Starling City who doesn't know who he is. The only one that doesn't judge him based on what she's heard about his troubled past. But of course that's just the tip of the iceberg, because she's also beautiful and funny and incredibly smart and he'd be a complete fool not to be attracted to her.

"Man, what's got you smiling like an idiot?" comes his defensive guard's voice from behind him, as they jog up and down the field at a leisure pace.

Oliver's head whips around and he faces his guard John Diggle with a grin. "Ya know, life's good."

Diggle shoots him a knowing smile and teases, "Don't tell me Oliver Queen finally has a girlfriend."

Oliver rolls his eyes. "Please don't refer to me in the third person when I'm right next to you, it's creepy. But yeah, let's call her that."

Diggle's hand shoots out to grab his arm, stopping both men dead in their tracks in the middle of the field. "Wait, you're serious? You met someone? How am I only hearing about this now?"

Oliver just grins sheepishly and wiggles out of his friend's grasp. "It's a recent development," he says, remembering a particular phone conversation he had with Felicity.

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(13 days ago)

"Hello, stranger," her voice rings through the speaker and he can't help the giant smile that erupts on his face. Two dates and he's already completely whipped.

"Missing me already?" he teases.

He can almost see her bite her bottom lip and scrunch up her forehead in thought when she takes a few seconds to reply. "Maybe."

With just one word she manages to render him speechless. How the hell can she do that?

Maybe.

Such a small word, and yet, so very important.

"Yeah?" is all he manages to croak out, cursing himself silently for his ineloquent response.

"Yeah," she replies, smile evident in her voice. "I mean, I spent the last two nights with you, of course I'm bummed that I can't see you today."

His breath hitches when flashes of last night run through his brain. Her flushed cheeks, the silky skin under his fingertips, the softness of her lips against his when she'd kissed him out of nowhere.

"Ugh, not that we spent the night together. Not like that. Not that I don't want..." she lets out in a rush and exhales frustratedly. "Please, make me stop talking."

He grins widely. "Why? I'm interested to hear what you want."

"Jerk," she grumbles and his grin widens even further, if that's even possible.

"Couldn't resist," he shrugs. "But speaking of last night, when can I see you again?"

"That depends on how flexible you are. I'm still pretty swamped at work so I can't really make any promises, plus it's Thanksgiving week."

Right, Thanksgiving.

Should he ask her if she wants to join him in his family's celebration? That would probably be a little crass, considering she still doesn't know who his family is. He has a game on Saturday, so Friday isn't really an option and they usually have a get together with the team after their Thanksgiving game, so maybe on Sunday?

"Totally forgot it's already time for Thanksgiving," he sighs. "How about brunch on Sunday?"

She huffs out a laugh. "Brunch. Look at you, Mr. Fancy-Pants."

"What's wrong with brunch?" he asks and raises his eyebrows in confusion.

"Nothing," she laughs. "I just don't think I've ever had a straight guy ask me out for brunch, that's all."

He waits a beat. "So that's a no to brunch then?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But not because I don't want to have brunch with you, but because I actually won't be in Starling City from Wednesday night until Monday or Tuesday," she's quick to explain.

Oh.

He feels a pang in his heart, that he isn't quite ready to address the ferocity of, when he realizes that he won't be seeing her until next week.

"Oh, okay." He bites the inside of his cheek, keeping himself from asking what she's doing. He really doesn't have a right to ask that, does he?

"You know, if this were any other weekend I'd offer to bail out early, but I won't be seeing these guys for at least a year after this, so..." she offers.

He can't help himself. "So you're meeting some friends?"

"Yup," she says happily. "It's our yearly Thanksgiving get together in Boston. We've been celebrating Thanksgiving together since my first year in college. Somehow we've managed to keep up the tradition for every year since our graduation."

"That sounds amazing. Enjoy your time with your friends," he replies earnestly, unable to resist her enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I hope I will. I think this might be our last year of doing this." There's a note of sadness in her voice that he immediately decides to never want to hear again.

"How so?"

"Well, our little group has shrunk significantly since we started. Some people apparently actually have a social life and time for dating and stuff. So now some of my friends rather spend the holiday with their significant other and that's okay of course," she quickly amends. "But it's still a little sad to see our tradition end so soon."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Felicity. But you know, this just means that you'll have to start a new tradition. I was never big on Thanksgiving while growing up. My parents always had these completely obnoxious dinner parties that I just hated. So when I was 16, my best friend and I got on a plane and went to London for the weekend just to get away from all the holiday craziness and to drink our asses off." He chuckles when he remembers the horrible hangover of his very fist night in London.

"We did that for a few years and then Connor came along and somehow changed how I saw Thanksgiving. And it also changed my parents. Now we always have a low key family dinner and actually enjoy our time together."

"That sounds really nice."

"It is. But my point here is that I had to give up one tradition for a new one and even though it was weird in the beginning, it started to really grow on me. Maybe you're at that point now, where you have to let go of one tradition and be open for a new one."

She huffs out a deep breath. "I hate it when other people are smarter than me. But thank you, Oliver, I think I needed to hear that."

"No problem."

An alarm sounds on his phone and he fumbles a little before he manages to turn it off.

"Let me guess, you have to go?"

"I do. I'm sorry," he replies apologetically. The 'I'd rather keep talking to you' goes unsaid for now.

"Don't worry," she assures him. "I'll call you when I know when I'm coming back, okay?"

"I'd like that. But hey, maybe I'll shake things up and call you before then."

"I'd like that," she parrots teasingly, but then trails off quickly.

"What is it?" he asks, quickly shutting off his back up alarm.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything." Well, except for his last name maybe. That's not something he wants to discuss over the phone.

There's a little hesitation in her voice that puts him on edge. "What do I call you?"

His heart skips a beat. "What do you mean?" he asks and swallows hard.

"When I brag to my friends about the two amazing dates we had, what do I call you? My 'lover' would imply certain things already happened, and in any case, it just sounds creepy. My 'date'? Is it too soon to call you my 'boyfriend'? I know it's only been two dates, but, you know, I'm really hoping there'll be more in the near future, so..."

His heart skips another beat, but for a totally different reason this time. A warm flutter spreads from his chest through his whole body.

Boyfriend. He hasn't been called that in a long time. Correction: he hasn't wanted to be called that in a long time. But hearing that word roll off Felicity's tongue in reference to him feels... right.

"I... yeah," he clears his throat. "That... I'd like that. Being your boyfriend, I mean."

Her response is interrupted by the shrill ring of his third alarm. He curses under his breath, he knows he'll be late if he doesn't leave right away, and he still has to say goodbye to Connor. Being late for his first training with the team again after his suspension is not the example he plans on setting for his team mates.

"Felicity, I'm so sorry, but I really have to go. I'll call you," he says in a rush.

"Yeah, of course. I'm sorry I kept you for so long. Have a good night, Oliver."

"You, too."

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Diggle's loud laugh pulls him out of his thoughts. "Man, she's got you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she? Is she here tonight?"

Oliver looks up to the stands of the stadium, letting his eyes glide over the seats that are getting more packed by the minute.

"Nah, she's in Starling."

Digg nods. "Lyla, doesn't like the away games too much either, but I guess it's mostly because she hates flying long distance. But, hey, I'd love to meet your girl when we're back home, maybe make a double date out of it. Lyla will be happy to hear that you've found someone, that way she can stop worrying about you ending up alone and with twenty cats."

Oliver's head whips around. "What?"

"Huh, probably shouldn't have told you that," Diggle muses but by the way he wiggles his eyebrows it's pretty evident that he's not really sorry.

Oliver just shakes his head and continues to stretch. "A double date sounds good, though."

"How did you meet her? I wasn't aware that you were even looking to meet anyone, plus, it can't be easy being Oliver Queen out in the dating world."

"Well, it was… unconventional," Oliver starts slowly. "And she didn't meet Oliver Queen. Not exactly."

"Man, if you found her via the internet, dump her now before the press gets wind of it. We all saw how that ended for that kid from Notre Dame."

He chuckles at his guard's sudden outburst and widened eyes. "Don't worry, Digg, she's really. Felicity is very real. She just doesn't know she met Oliver Queen. To her I'm just Oliver."

Diggle takes a moment to study him. "She doesn't know who you are?" Oliver shakes his head. "Why don't you tell her?"

"It's complicated."

The older man doesn't accept that answer. "How is it complicated? You're lying to a woman you obviously really like. How do you think it'll end if she finds out somehow before you get around to tell her?"

The insistent tone in his voice irks Oliver to no end. "It just is, okay? I have my reasons."

Digg lifts his hands defensively in front of him. "They better be good ones."

Oliver sighs in defeat. "I don't know how to tell her. 'Hey, by the way, my last name is Queen and yes, I'm that famous football guy and also yes, my family has a few billion in their bank account. But hey, no biggie, right?'," he exclaims frustratedly. "I'm sure that'll be great."

Diggle halts his movements with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Just find the right time. If she likes you now, it won't change once she knows your last name."

Oliver nods gratefully. Of course, he hopes that telling Felicity won't change anything, but he also knows that it won't be quite as easy as his friend makes it seem.

All he knows for sure is that he has a game in twenty minutes. And after that game? He's going home. And tomorrow he might be seeing Felicity again. Maybe he'll tell her then.

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"Oliver, after last week's game many experts were sure that they had seen the best game of your professional football career. And today we saw you complete an almost unbelievable seven touchdown passes that fueled your team's crushing win over the Islanders. And all of that after sitting out a game just two weeks ago for a minor hand injury. So, of course my, and probably everybody else's, question is: what happened? Where did this sudden radical improvement come from?"

There are some agreeing murmurs while all heads and cameras in the room turn towards him. "Well, first of all, I think the whole team played an incredible game today," Oliver begins, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants, letting his gaze drift over the sea of reporters in front of him. "In the end, those are the guys that catch whatever I throw their way and today they were definitely at the top of their game. As for me personally," he shrugs, smile playing on his lips. "I think I'm just in a good place. The little break two weeks ago gave me some time to reboot my system, so to say. And now I'm back and I just wanna play ball and win the Super Bowl."

"There's speculation that your new-found uptick in performance is partly due to a new woman in your life. What do you have to say to that?"

He suppresses the urge to clench his teeth and just offers a tight-lipped smile. "I'd say that I'm here to answer questions that pertain to today's game." From the corner of his eyes he can see Sara roll her eyes before glaring at him. She'd warned him to play nice with the press.

The reporter just grins back at him. "Let me rephrase that then. Was your girlfriend present at tonight's game to cheer you on?"

That smug bastard. His hand automatically clenches into a fist under the lectern.

"I don't know why you have such a piqued interest in my private life but as you and everybody else here knows I like to keep my private life private. Next question." It takes all of his self control not to walk out of the press room, but he remains steadfast in his position on the little stage.

"But that wasn't always that way, Ollie," the reporter mocks. "You used to be so very open about your private life. Give us the dirty details about your new relationship."

Deep down he knows that the reporter is just goading him, trying to get him to react and give him something to write about. But he isn't about to give that asshole the satisfaction of a violent outburst.

"How about you let your colleagues ask some actual questions about football and we get on with this, huh?"

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"Stop looking so happy, Lis, it's fucking annoying," Iris groans, staring at her over the rim of her red wine glass. "I don't want to be the only single lady in this room."

"Aw, come on, Iris. It was about time that Lis got some," Caitlin chimes in.

"One thing's for sure: he must be some guy if good old Felicity here can't stop grinning like she just won the lottery."

"I'm not that bad," Felicity pouts and takes another sip of her wine. "And it's not just about him."

She'd come back from Boston late last night after more than two weeks. What was supposed to be just a long weekend with her friends suddenly turned into two weeks away from Starling City when the head of Merlyn Global's Applied Sciences Division called her and begged her to attend a week-long conference in Boston while he was down with the flu. She was all too happy to agree since she'd helped with the project that her colleague had wanted to present during the conference. The only downside was that that also meant that she wouldn't be seeing Oliver for a whole lot longer than she'd planned to.

The conference had been great. Between some very good talks from renowned scientist from around the world, she'd also run into Walter Steele, the CEO of Queen Consolidated. He'd invited her out to dinner one night where they had talked for hours about the new developments on the market and a joint project of Merlyn Global and QC. After dinner he'd told her to stop by his office when she was back in Starling City because he had a job offer he wanted to discuss with her. She'd been floating on a cloud of giddiness ever since that night.

She's happy at Merlyn Global, liking her work and colleagues, but she also wants more and a job at Queen Consolidated could be just that. Especially if it was that Head of Applied Sciences job she'd told Oliver about.

"I envy you," Iris sighs and leans back on the couch. "You already have an amazing job and get a job offer for an even more amazing job and you get the hot guy? I want your life."

"You can have my ex," Felicity offers with a shrug.

"Ugh, I don't want that asshole. I want someone as sweet as your Oliver."

Felicity's heart stutters in her chest. Her Oliver. Her boyfriend.

Somehow their two weeks apart had had an interesting effect on their budding relationship. In a way, it had brought them closer, even if they were a few thousand miles apart. Oliver had stayed true his word and called her a few times in the first week and then somehow they'd settled into a routine during the second week. They texted during the day and talked on the phone every night after she'd come back from a night of schmoozing and networking with the other participants of the conference. She'd tell him all about the different talks she'd attended and gave him a probably too detailed description of her opinion on different hot topics of the day and he told her about Connor and his sister who was thinking about opening a night club.

It was so easy to talk to him, there was an almost natural flow to their conversation that had them up and talking for hours on end. One night she'd even fallen asleep, snuggled into the warm comforter, her head on the pillow right next to her phone with Oliver's soft voice coming over the speaker. She'd been absolutely mortified when she'd woken up the next morning, quickly calling him and apologizing profusely. But he'd just shrugged it off and had kept teasing her good-naturedly about it for the rest of the week.

Suddenly her phone starts vibrating on the coffee table and Oliver's name flashes across the screen, along with the photo of the two of them from the ice rink when he'd kissed her on the cheek.

"Oh my God, you have a photo of the guy and didn't tell us?" Iris asks and moves quickly to grab the phone from the table, beating Felicity to the punch. "Holy mother of God, this is him?" She points at the screen, her mouth falling open as Felicity nods mutely. "No wonder you were keeping him to yourself. He's hot."

Caitlin snatches the phone from her hands, studying the picture for a moment. "You can't even really see his face. But there's definitely potential."

She swipes over the screen and Felicity realizes with absolute horror that she just answered the call. "Hello, Oliver."

Caitlin puts the phone on speaker, so that in the next second, Felicity hears Oliver's confused voice. "Uh, hi? Who's this? Is Felicity around?"

"Even his voice sounds sexy," Iris laments and Felicity feels an intense blush creep up her cheeks. Oh God, is this really happening.

"Yeah, she's around," Caitlin answers his question. "And judging by her death glare I'll be regretting this very soon, so I'll better make it count. If you hurt her I'll find you and make you pay. Do you understand?"

"Kate?!" Felicity cries out in indignation and gets up from the couch, grabbing her phone and the bottle of wine in the process before quickly stalking into the bathroom.

"I'm so sorry, Oliver," she says while sliding down against the closed door. "My friends stole my phone."

"Don't worry," he's quick to assure her, voice soft. "How are you? How was your flight last night?"

"Ehh, you know, it's just two hours. No biggie. And I'm doing great. Thanks for asking. How are you? How's your business trip?"

"I'm good and the trip was… very successful. I actually just landed in Starling and was thinking I could swing by your place before heading home." There's some hesitation in his tone as if he had been debating to say this or not. She can't help but find it completely adorable.

"I'm actually at my friend's apartment right now."

"Oh," he breathes out disappointedly. "I was hoping to see you tonight."

She bites her bottom lip. "Well, it's getting kinda late and I think I'll call it a night soon. It's just a fifteen minute walk to my house, so I could meet you there in thirty minutes?"

"Or you could give me the address of your friend's place and I'll pick you up," Oliver suggests.

"I don't want you going out of your way."

"It's okay. I'd feel much better if you didn't walk around alone at this hour," he insists gently. "Please, just humor me, okay?"

She finally relents and gives him the address, agreeing to let him text her once he's there.

Of course her friends bombard her with a million questions when she emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, but she just dodges them and starts to clear her glass and plate from the table.

With every passing minute, her heart starts to beat a little faster in her chest in nervous anticipation of finally seeing Oliver again. Their countless texts and phone calls had been well and good and they'd even facetimed a few times, but she couldn't wait to actually see him again. Two weeks were just too fucking long.

So when her phone buzzes in her pocket, she all but high tails it out of Caitlin's front door, just giving her two best friends quick hugs and telling them she'd call them next week.

The cold night air helps her to regain some focus while she forces herself to walk towards his waiting car at a normal pace. When she opens the little gate at the end of the driveway, the driver door opens. Her breath hitches when she meets his wide grin and her body moves on its own accord when she makes a few determined steps in his direction.

He meets her halfway and suddenly she's in his arms, being lifted from the ground and pressed firmly into his body. A laugh bubbles in her throat and she's about to greet him when his lips close over hers. All the words she'd wanted to say are stuck in her throat, her eyes flutter closed and she leans into the kiss. Her hands move up to cup his face, fingertips running over his stubble.

When she'd imagined this (and yes, she'd imagined this) their first kiss after being reunited was frenzied and desperate, trying to make up for two weeks, but in reality it's soft and gentle, with just a hint of urgency. His lips move over hers slowly, almost like he's trying to savor every millimeter of her, while his arms are still banded firmly around her, keeping her feet a few inches off the ground.

After what seems like forever, he sets her down and they break apart, if only for an inch. Their foreheads are pressed together when she opens her eyes.

"Hey," he breathes out and his intense blue orbs lock with hers.

"Hey, yourself," she whispers back, while her fingers move slowly over his stubble.

His eyes flicker to something behind her and he chuckles. "We have an audience."

Knowing that he's talking about her two friends, she groans and dips her head so that her face is buried in his chest. "I'll never hear the end of this."

"Let's get you home," he says with a laugh and tugs her towards the car but not without stealing another kiss.

The drive is short and filled with chatter and before she knows it she's pressed against the front door of her house by Oliver's body in a vivid repeat performance of their first kiss two weeks ago. When they break apart she's glad to see that his cheeks are also a little flushed, his lips swollen and his breathing labored.

"I missed you," he whispers softly, his thumb stroking gently over her cheek.

She leans into his touch and sighs contently. "I missed you, too." She turns her head and presses a kiss to the palm of his hand. "Do you want to come inside?"

"I wish I could," he sighs. "But Connor is waiting up for me and, like you said earlier, it's getting pretty late and he has school tomorrow."

"Hmm, okay, but only if you can tell me when I'll see you again."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something. Well, not really ask, more like suggest," Oliver lets out in a rush. "I… uh… I'd like you to meet Connor."

"Oh," she breathes out. "Yeah, wow… Really? Not that I don't want to meet him, but I didn't think it would be this soon."

He groans and closes his eyes for a second. "Is this too soon? Do you feel like I'm pushing you? I don't want to push you into something you don't want."

"No, Oliver, you're not pushing me," she assures him and takes his hand in hers. "This is a little unexpected, but I love the idea! I'd really like to meet your son and if you think now's a good time then we'll do it now. If you decide tomorrow that we should wait longer then we'll wait. Whatever you think is best for him."

A smile appears on his lips and he dips his head down to kiss her languidly. "You're incredible, Felicity," he murmurs against her lips and kisses her again. "How about dinner at my apartment tomorrow night? Just the three of us."

"That sounds amazing," she replies without hesitation.

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A/N: We've got big, big, big stuff coming up in the next chapter. What is that big stuff, you ask? First, Felicity meets Connor and then it's her birthday, filled with surprise appearances and more info about her past! I'm super stoked about the next chapter and can't wait to share it with you.
Until then, let me know what you think about this one.