I am so very, very sorry about the wait. Severe writer's block.

June 27th

Oliver and Felicity held hands as they sat in the waiting room, trying to ignore all the curious glances and excited whispers. Her playboy baby daddy seemed nervous as he stared at the clock, his grip getting tighter by the second. He was even sweating. A dozen armed men weren't nearly as scary as an ultrasound, apparently.

"Do you think a bunch of ninjas are going to drop from the ceiling?" she muttered in his ear. "I don't understand why you seem so anxious."

"Well, for one thing, the city is still more dangerous than usual and I don't even like for you to leave the mansion," he explained quietly. "And I realized that from now on the paparazzi are going to be all over us. So far four women have taken our picture with their phones."

She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "Anything else?"

He swallowed hard and kept staring at the clock. "I thought it sank in when I saw your stomach, but I'm about to see my kid on an ultrasound. I'm about to find out whether I'm having a son or a daughter." Then his voice got even quieter. "It just feels so real."

"Good real or bad real?"

"Scary real." he admitted, glancing at her baby belly. "Diggle told me about Ed's offer. Makes me wonder if you should've stayed with him instead."

"Oliver, I love you," she started, her voice calm but forceful. "But I will slap that stupid, beautiful face of yours if you say anything like that again."

"At least we already know that Ed's a good father."

"That's why you're so worried?" She leaned in. "You don't think you'd be a good father?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It's pretty obvious, isn't it? I was so happy to have you back, and at first the baby felt like an abstract idea. But now I'm thinking of everything I've done and everything I do now… I'm the worst role model ever. I'm a killer." Oliver confessed, whispering the last sentence. "I barely qualify as a decent human being. What good will I be?"

Felicity adjusted her glasses. "You're too hard on yourself."

"I don't want our kid to be anything like me."

"Cut the self-loathing crap, or I swear—"

The nurse called her name, and they hurried out of the waiting room. Waiting in the quiet doctor's office was more strained, with Oliver sitting in the chair and Felicity on the exam table.

The door opened and in came Dr. Whetstone. "Hello, Felicity. I hope you've been…" Her jaw dropped at the sight of Oliver. "Oh. Uh, Mr. Queen. Oliver Queen. Oliver Queen is here and looking very nervous. Oh, my. Things are making a lot more sense now."

Felicity and Oliver exchanged a look, the tension between them slightly lessened.

"Well, anywho, let's get your blood pressure checked."

Oliver watched as the doctor did all the necessary tests, and then it was time for the ultrasound. He reluctantly sat by her side as the doctor smeared that jelly stuff all over Felicity's belly with the ultrasound scanner thingy.

He flinched as the sound of the baby's steady, rapid heartbeat filled the room. Worried, he looked to Felicity, silently wondering if it was supposed to be that fast. She smiled and rubbed his arm.

"Oh, here we are. Good position to get a profile."

The couple gazed at the screen. A black-and-white outline of the baby's face showed on the grainy background. Its button nose, its little lips—

"What's that thing by its mouth? Does it have a growth or something?"

That wrestled a giggle from Felicity. "That's its hand, you idiot. It's sucking its thumb."

"He's sucking his thumb." corrected the doctor. "It's a boy."

Oliver and Felicity gaped at the monitor as he took her hand again.

"Congratulations,"

"It's a boy," Oliver parroted dazedly.

"Oh," Felicity squealed. "This means we can name him after your dad!" She noticed him bring his hand to his face out of the corner of her eye. Eyes wide, she looked at him and realized what was happening. "Are you… Are you crying?"

"No!" he responded indignantly.

"You are! There're tears in your eyes and everything!"

"I'm not crying."

"Badass Oliver Queen is looking at an ultrasound and crying."

"No, I'm not!" he argued after sniffling.

"You're a gooey, emotional mess." She pulled him down so she could kiss his temple. "Just wait 'til you hold him for the first time." His bottom lip began to tremble, and it took all her might not to laugh as he turned towards the wall.

"I'll give you two a moment," said Dr. Whetstone as she turned off the machine and hurried from the room with a smile on her face.

Felicity reached out and stroked her boyfriend's hair. "You okay?"

Taking a deep breath, he rested his forehead on her shoulder. "I'm gonna be a dad."

She kissed the top of his head. "Yes, you are."

"I'll probably be bad at it."

"No, you won't." Felicity replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I honestly don't understand why you think that."

Oliver raised his head. "Because I'm…" He paused, trying to find the right word. "I'm green."

She raised an eyebrow. "And by that you mean… what?" Her fingers laced with his. "Are you referring to your upbringing? Your hobby? The fact that you're new at this?"

"All of that. He could easily end up just as spoiled as I was, or screwed up like me, or screwed up in general."

"Oh, sweetie," She squeezed his hand. "He could never be screwed up like you. Yours is a special brand of insanity."

That got a smile out of him. "Very true,"

"And don't make it sound like being green is a bad thing. I know it's not easy being green, but it's not horrible, either."

Oliver's smile widened.

"Do I need to sing about it? I know a song about being green."

"No, that's okay," he said with a chuckle.

"You sure, Kermit?" She pulled her shirt over her round tummy and struggled into a sitting position with his help.

He kissed her cheek, still smiling. "We should get going. Diggle's waiting for us."

They suffered more attention as they rode the packed elevator down to the parking garage, and a plague of paparazzi and reporters accosted them as they strode towards the limo. Diggle hurried over to protect them from the cackle of media hyenas, which were barking questions at them like a pack of hungry dogs.

"Are you positive that's your baby?"

"Who's the blonde?"

"At which club did you two meet?"

"Is Oliver Queen really going to settle down?"

"Exactly how accidental was this?"

On and on they droned like a scourge of mosquitoes as Diggle shepherded Oliver and Felicity to the car. The pregnant woman "inadvertently" crushed a dropped recorder under her heel and one camera-toting parasite came very close to having his Nikon shoved down his gullet. Diggle managed to fight off the shiver of sensationalist sharks with a few threats and a curl of his imposing fists.

The soon-to-be-famous couple and their trusty chauffeur sat in silence as they sped out of the garage and into the early afternoon traffic.

"Sorry about that," said Oliver. "But it'll definitely get worse, especially when the baby's born."

"We can handle it."

"I sure hope so."

Something about his tone suggested he was referring to more than just avoiding media coverage. She remembered everything he'd dealt with lately, and all of it was grim. Losing Tommy, failing half of the Glades, killing his best friend's dad, knowing his mother was involved in the diabolical plot to destroy the poor part of the city, and the list was probably longer than that. Having a baby was a bright light in his otherwise dark world, but so many things could still go wrong.

"It's going to be okay, Oliver." she asserted. "If there's one thing that'll go right for us, it's this." It has to, she thought.