Baby's First Christmas

Oliver blinked at the baby bib resting on the kitchen counter next to his wife's purse.

"Felicity," he called out warily as he made his way through the house. He finally found her sitting in the middle of their king size bed holding what looked to be a picture.

"Are you okay?" he asked her as he approached the bed with caution. Her blue eyes shifted to watch him move closer to her.

"I don't know," she replied before handing him the paper she'd been starting at a few moments ago.

"What is this?" Oliver asked as he studied the handwritten card with the simple message Congratulations written on it.

"I have no idea," Felicity said. "When I got home this and the bib were lying on the kitchen counter. I came in here to find some of the cards we've received over the past few years to see if the handwriting matched."

"And?" Oliver asked with an eyebrow raised.

"It doesn't look like any of them from what I could tell. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out who would have sent this. I mean, seriously, we're not having a baby," Felicity said with a chuckle before climbing off the bed and heading to the kitchen. Oliver followed behind her.

He watched as she busied herself with making dinner. He knew the topic of having a baby was a bit of a sore spot for Felicity. Between his mother and her mother, they'd been bombarded for the last year about when they were going to bring the newest Queen into the world. Felicity had been adamant that she wasn't ready. Oliver had kept pretty quiet on the issue because he didn't want to upset his wife. He'd be thrilled if they were to have a child. He wanted a little person who looked like them and represented the love they shared.

"Oliver?" Felicity's voice broke through his daydream. He looked up to see her scowling at him.

"What is it?" he questioned.

"I knew this handwriting looked familiar," she said through clenched teeth. "It's John's."

"What?" Oliver asked.

"This is John's handwriting. Why on earth would he send us a gift like this?" Felicity asked in bewilderment. Oliver stared at her for a moment before responding.

"I think you're pregnant."

"Excuse me?" she practically shouted.

"You've been really moody lately, and I can't seem to recall the last time you had your monthly visitor. And," he began before pausing.

"And what?" she growled.

"When you cut your finger the other day with the letter opener, I took the hankerchief we used to clean it up and gave it to Diggle. He had Barry run an analysis on it. You're pregnant, Felicity," Oliver stated quietly as he watched the play of emotions cross his wife's face. He knew she would never admit it on her own so he simply gave the situation a necessary push.

"Oliver," she started before closing her mouth and wave of tears gathered in her eyes. "I'm scared."

"What? Why?" he questioned as he quickly took her into his arms.

"What if I'm not a good mother?" she whispered against his chest. Oliver pulled her back slightly so he could look into her eyes.

"Are you kidding me? You've practically been mothering Digg and me for the past five years. You're going to be the best mother in the world," Oliver exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.

"You really think so?" Felicity asked quietly.

"I do," Oliver concluded.

"So why Baby's First Christmas?" Felicity asked casting a glance at the bib.

"Well, by my calculations, our little Queen will be here right before Christmas of next year. I thought I'd get a head start on the Christmas wardrobe."

"Oh boy," Felicity said with a laugh.

"Or girl," Oliver chuckled before kissing her.