I keep getting notifications through my email about this getting liked and favourited... So, I thought I should probably do something about that. This was done in one sitting of about 40 minutes because, between work and uni, I have ZERO time to do any writing or proper editing.
I hope you enjoy it either way and, if you'd like to see something, let me know.
P.S. Where does everyone keep finding this story?
It had taken Felicity nearly half an hour to round up her three children and get them ready to leave. She'd spent most of that time trying to convince Thomas to put on a pair of shoes that matched. Pippa had helped by chasing Bronte around the lounge room, wrestling the 18 month old into her navy pea coat.
"Pippa!" Felicity called from the wet room, where she'd finally sat Thomas down, given him a stern warning about the pros of behaving himself, and pushed some black boots on to his feet.
"Yes, mommy?"
"Can you and Bronte come and put your new shoes on now?"
"Why do we have to gooooooo?" Thomas threw his head back dramatically, yanking at the elastic bow tie at his throat.
"Because," Felicity put a scarf around his neck and pulled him closer to kiss his forehead, "Uncle Digg and Aunt Lyla are getting married, and it's very important because we've been waiting for this day for a long time."
"Well you go," Thomas jerked away from her, "I'll stay here and watch cartoons and eat cheerios."
"No chance, buddy," Felicity smiled as Pippa and Bronte danced in.
"Blergh," Thomas slid off the bench and went out the front door, leaving it open and letting the cold water in.
"Look at my beautiful girls!" Felicity exclaimed, "Should we go and meet up with Grace?"
Grace was going to be her mother's bridesmaid while Pippa, and Bronte were set to be the flower girls. Pippa hadn't been too impressed by the tulle skirted dress that had been picked out for her, nor the Shirley temple curling tchniwue that she'd had to wear in her hair for the past 36 hours. Felicity had spent a long time explaining that she'd get to be a princess.
"BUT I'M NOT A PRINCESS!" she'd shouted, stamping her feet, "I am Pippa Meredith Queen!"
Oliver had eventually scooped his six year old daughter up and taken her outside. Felicity was concerned they'd both get cold, but Oliver had plucked a blanket off the back of the lounge on the way. They'd stood outside, a gently snow falling, wrapped in the blanket.
Pippa had propped her elbows on Oliver's chest and was listening intently to whatever Oliver was saying. He smiled and Pippa smiled. She said something, only a few words, and Oliver had kissed her nose.
They'd come back inside and Pippa had allowed Felicity to keep doing her hair.
"What'd you say to her?" Felicity asked.
"Please," Oliver winked at his wife, who grinned and bit her lip.
Pippa was holding her baby sisters hand tightly and she nodded so enthusiastically that the curls bounced rigourously.
"Good girls, come on, scarves and gloves, let's go!" Felicity handed Pippa a cream scarf and gloves.
Pippa organised herself as Felicity cooed over Bronte. The girls could be mistaken for twins, if it weren't for the five or so years between them, or the fact that Pippa already had a twin in Thomas.
"When are we going to see Daddy?" Pippa asked, as Felicity slipped into a coat and pulled on some leather gloves.
"Well," Felicity plucked Bronte off the floor where the tulle skirt she was wearing was inches from a dirty puddle of melted snow, "remember how a few days ago you practiced walking down the aisle with Lyla?"
Pippa nodded.
"That's when you'll see Daddy."
Oliver had left earlier that morning, heading around to John's to get ready with his best friend. Felicity had to get ready herself, and then get the two girls dressed, and convince Tommy to put his suit on.
Felicity had a war of words with Thomas as she'd rushed around the bedroom trying to wiggle into her dress. She'd allowed herself a splurge, an Elie Saab number. Simple, black, long sleeved, backless.
"Mommy, do you need help?" Thomas had asked, switching off his histrionic crying with laughable speed.
"Oh yes," Felicity turned, "can you help me untwist this part?"
"Yes."
"Thank you," Felicity cupped his chubby cheek in her hand,
"Does this mean I don't have to come."
"Thomas John Queen, you are coming, it's that simple."
And that was it.
Careful not to slip on the fresh snow, Felicity tiptoed across the front lawn to the car. One hand clutched a giggling Bronte to her side, the other bundled her dress up around her knees.
"Like Mommy has, Pippa," Felicity explained, "Make sure your dress isn't dragging in the snow."
"Yes, Mommy," Pippa replied, concentrating hard on collecting the tulle under her arms.
"Thomas, car, now!" Felicity called.
It had taken another ten minutes to get the kids in the car and get on the road.
"Mommy?" Pippa had spoken up from the backseat, playing with a sequin on her skirt.
"Yes, my darling?"
"You know how I'm a princess, but just for today?"
"Mmm?"
"That makes you a Queen?"
"In a way…"
"Daddy says that you're a Queen every day and that I have to practice to be a princess because I'll be a queen for when I'm growed up."
Felicity smiled, catching Pippa's eye in the rear view mirror.
Pippa grinned back, "When you smile like that, mommy, you look like a Queen, a beautiful one."
"Quick, quick, out of the car," Felicity reached across the back seat and, practiced in the movement, unclipped the three seat belts.
"Uncle Roy!" Thomas leaped out of the car. He tripped in his haste to reach his uncle, but stood up quickly and kept running.
As Felicity helped Pippa out of the car and then pulled Bronte from the seat she watched Roy brush snow, grass and dirt off the knees of Thomas' new suit. Roy glanced up and smiled at her, steering Thomas towards the hall.
"Look, mommy!" Pippa exclaimed as they crossed the front lawn, "just like you!"
"Good girl," Felicity smiled down at her. She had her dress hitched up so high Felicity could see that her woolen tights needed to be pulled up.
"Hey!" Thea exclaimed as they came through the door.
"Hey, Thea, hi," Felicity rushed, handing Bronte over, "sorry, can you take her? Pip's having tight troubles."
"Hello, Little Princess," Thea bounced Bronte on her hip.
"Ah! Ah!" Bronte smiled.
"Come here, baby," Felicity motioned for Pippa to step closer as she squatted down to be at her height.
"I don't think I'm a very good princess," Pippa's bottom lip trembled.
"Honey, why?" Felicity pinched at the tights to stretch them higher.
"Because my tights keep falling down."
"Oh, Pip," Felicity adjusted the waistband and then pulled her daughter close, patting the back of the dress. "You want to know a secret? It'll make you laugh."
Pippa glanced up at Felicity through her tear soaked lashes.
"Mommy's tights are falling down too."
Pippa giggled and Felicity thumbed her tears away.
"Pippa!" came Grace's voice, "look at you!"
Grace looked beautiful in a maroon satin crepe cutout gown, her dark curls piled atop her head.
Pippa broke into a massive smile and, tight dramas forgotten, pushed past her mom to rush to her favourite person.
Felicity watched her god daughter who, with her hair and makeup done, looked far older than thirteen in her bridesmaids dress, teach her first daughter to curtsey. Pippa kept getting caught up in the tulle of her dress.
Thea put Bronte down next to them and turned to Felicity.
"We should probably grab a seat," Thea slid her hand into Felicity's. "Grace, you've got the girls under control, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, you guys head in, we're just waiting on Mom now," Grace assured them.
Felicity gave them all a peck on the cheek and followed Thea inside.
She spotted Oliver standing up next to John and she waved at him. He startled slightly then smiled.
Not tearing her eyes off her husband as she sat down, she saw Oliver turn to say something to John, before he sprinted across the aisle and squatted in front of her.
"Hello my beautiful wife," he ran his hands up and down her thighs.
"Hello my handsome husband," she smiled, leaning forward to give him a peck on his lips.
"You look, ah, well," he smirked, nodding and turning a beautiful crimson, "that dress, it's something else."
"Oh well, you'll match the color of Grace's dress nicely," Thea interrupted.
The intro to Lyla's chosen song rang out and Oliver ducked back to be at John's side. Everyone turned in their seats and watch Bronte toddler-stumble down the aisle first. She stopped halfway and looked around, panicked. Her bottom lip trembled and her blue eyes filled with tears.
"Hey, Baby B," Oliver's voice could be heard over the music.
Felicity turned and saw Oliver sat casually on the steps of the altar. He clapped his hands together twice and then opened them up for Bronte to run in to.
She giggled and her little legs sent her hurtling towards her dad. He picked her up, used a tissue from his pocket to clean her face and then returned to stand next to John. Bronte was a big ball of tulle in his arms.
He locked eyes with Felicity and winked. If she'd been standing up, her legs would have wobbled.
Thea poked Felicity in the ribs and, turning back around, she saw a beaming Pippa walking down the aisle. Felicity covered her mouth with her hands, smiling widely. Pippa waved at her and continued throwing flower petals on the ground.
When she got to the front, Pippa curtseyed in front of John and everyone laughed and clapped. Pippa went over to Oliver and slipped her hand into his spare one. Oliver bent to kiss the top of her head and swung their hands between them as he straightened.
Grace was next, beaming at her father.
"Wait until you see her, Dad," she said as John helped adjust her dress on the steps.
Grace motioned for Pippa to join her on the other side. Pippa immediately slipped from her fathers grasp and went and stood diligently beside Grace.
Felicity couldn't tell you what Lyla looked like as she walked down the aisle, she was too busy watching John. At first, there was nothing on his face, you could tell he was trying to hold it together. Then his eyes filled with tears. Then he laughed. Felicity had never seen John Diggle so happy.
Oliver offered him a tissue but then snatched it back.
"Wait, not that one, that one is covered in Bronte snot," Oliver handed him a clean one.
Felicity's favourite photo from the wedding album would be one of Oliver and John, both with a look of disgust on their faces and Bronte smiling widely, with Oliver holding a tissue between his index finger and his thumb.
Her second favourite would be a family photo, captured candidly as Oliver showed a very curious Thomas how their bow ties differed. Thomas was stood in between his parents but watching Oliver intently. Bronte was on Felicity's lap, Pippa leaning against her mother. The photo was taken across the table and Felicity was sure that Oliver would not let her live down the look of admiration in her eyes.
"You think I'm sexy, you want to marry me," he teased, singing and dancing across the family room.
It was a few weeks after the wedding and Lyla had sent through the unedited photos, requesting Felicity's help to decide which ones to put into a book.
"We're already married, you goofball," she shoved him playfully when he got close enough.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. She allowed her eyes to close, breathing in the smell of him. Something that was familiar, yet strikingly new, every time.
Oliver's voice came low and void of any of the teasing tone she heard just moments earlier.
"And aren't I better for it?"