A/N: This installment was written for the lovely lucawindmover, who requested the following: I'd like to see Oliver and Felicity having breakfast in her apartment after the first time they sleep together (I'd love for it to go horribly and they end up just having cold cereal out of coffee mugs or something, lol).

Oliver's eyes opened slowly, his brain on alert before he even registered what he was seeing. All he knew was that he was in an unfamiliar environment; the sounds and smells weren't right. The feel of the silky sheets that weren't his own, the hair trailing over his arm that definitely wasn't his…

As the events of the previous night came rushing back to him, he relaxed back into the mattress. The blonde hair flowing over his skin belonged to the owner of the sheets and the bed, and the apartment with the sounds and the smells that weren't right. He smiled as he recalled the two of them falling into the bed, their desire for each other having hit such a fever pitch that neither was interested in taking things slowly and sensually. At least not the first time. The next several times had been languid and loving, allowing them to explore the other the way they'd been craving for years.

His stomach growled and Oliver chuckled under his breath. They'd been so anxious to get to each other that dinner hadn't even crossed their minds. He decided to surprise Felicity by making her breakfast, so he carefully dislodged the sleeping blonde from his chest. She curled into her pillow with a sleepy, wordless mumble, and he smiled with pure joy. He'd never thought they'd be here. He'd never thought he'd let himself accept the happiness she offered. Luckily for him, she got tired of putting up with his crap and had pulled him in, wrapped her arms around him, and never let go.

Oliver made his way into her kitchen, whistling tunelessly as he pulled out pots, pans, and food. He turned the pan on to pre-heat while he pulled the strips of bacon from the package and laid a paper towel over a plate, then grabbed the carton of eggs from the fridge. It wasn't long before the bacon was sizzling and the aroma filled the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Oliver had neglected to dress before his culinary escapades, and it had been so long since he'd made bacon that he forgot about the grease. The frying bacon popped loudly and several drops of grease splattered over his abdomen. "Son of a bitch!" he swore, dancing away from the stove and swiping at the smears across his skin.

Felicity stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and yawning, but stopped suddenly when she saw a naked Oliver dancing like an epileptic chicken in her kitchen. "I have to be hallucinating," she concluded. "That's the only possible explanation for this."

"Damn it," he grumbled. "Do you have any salve or anything for burns?"

"I have aloe gel," she offered. "Let me go find it."

Oliver trailed behind her as she headed for the linen closet in her bathroom. She shuffled some things around before turning around with a beaming smile on her face, holding a bottle of blue goo. It was cold as she wiped it across his stomach, but very quickly he felt fire heating his blood. "Maybe we should forget breakfast," he murmured, a slow, lazy grin crossing his full lips.

She leaned in, brushing her lips against his, and murmured back, "I could easily be persuaded."

He slid his arms around her and pulled her in, deepening their kiss as her fingers reached up to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. Oliver was contemplating lifting her up onto the bathroom counter and taking her right there when a shrill beeping interrupted them.

"What the hell is that?" he asked irritably, and Felicity's eyes widened.

"That would be the smoke detector, telling us the bacon is more than done," she said wryly.

Oliver swore under his breath as he made his way back to the kitchen, quickly taking the pan off the stove while Felicity waved a towel at the detector. After another agonizing minute, the shrieking stopped and they both breathed sighs of relief. Felicity glanced down at the frying pan and winced. "I'm pretty sure that's inedible, but thanks for trying?"

He followed her gaze and saw the bacon was curled up into black lumps, and he rolled his eyes and chucked the pan in the sink. "Okay, so the bacon is out. We still have eggs and bread."

Felicity felt something funny inside at his use of "we". "We sure do," she agreed, her eyes twinkling. He gave her a questioning look but shrugged as he opened the carton of eggs. She grabbed the bread and slipped several slices into the toaster while he expertly cracked the eggs and the whites spread across the pan, turning from clear to white in a matter of moments. He was doing such a great job that it almost didn't register when an egg slipped from his hand and landed on his foot, shattering and splattering all over his leg and the floor.

"God damn it!" he spewed, his frustration mounting. She had to hold back a giggle as she reached for a dish cloth to wet. He turned at the same time to reach for a paper towel and accidentally caught the handle of the pan with his hip. It swiveled around and spun off the stove before either could think to react. Both of them watched in dismay as the pan flipped and eggs flew across the kitchen.

"Why don't you wipe up as much as you can with the paper towels while I go get the mop and cleaner?" Felicity asked with a sigh. Oliver nodded tersely and got down on his hands and knees to start cleaning, and she was struck by the ridiculous absurdity of the sight of the love of her life on all fours, naked, with egg all over his foot and calf, scrubbing at the tile. If it wasn't becoming so frustrating, this comedy of errors would have Felicity in tears from laughing so hard.

She was rummaging through the cleaning supply cabinet when the acrid smell of something burning hit her nose. At the same moment she realized the toast was now burning, the smoke detector went off again. "My neighbors are going to kill me," she groaned, grabbing the Pine-Sol and scurrying back to the kitchen.

The toast had popped up, black as charcoal, and Oliver was already waving a towel-white, she noted wryly-at the detector. It finally gave up its harsh scolding and Felicity and Oliver looked down at the mess in the kitchen. Broken eggs, black toast and bacon, and Oliver still covered in eggs.

"What do you think about going out for bagels and coffee?" Felicity asked casually.

"Sounds like a great idea," Oliver responded immediately. He made a face as he looked down at the egg matted in the hair on his leg. "But let me take a shower first, okay?"

She grinned impishly. "Do you need someone to help you reach the tough spots?" she questioned slyly. "I come highly recommended."

He wrapped his arms around her and nipped at her lips. "I think I could be talked into it."

Felicity grabbed his hand and tugged him into the bathroom, shedding her tank top and shorts in seconds. "Follow me."

Oliver stepped into the shower behind her and bent down, pressing his lips to her ear. "To the ends of the earth."