Chipped Blocks
An Olicity Flash Fic Story

Flash Fic Prompt #46: Ms. Smoak. In the Library. With a Knife.

Chapter Eighteen

This year, everyone was getting secrets for Christmas.

Or maybe their real gift was going to be the ability to keep those secrets, because, if Oliver was certain about anything, it was the fact that, once all their truths came to light, he didn't know if there would be another holiday season for the four of them... at least, in all likelihood, not together. Perhaps Oliver should have taken comfort from the fact that at least he wasn't the only one keeping things from his loved ones now. After so many years of lying to and deceiving the people closest to him, he was finally getting a taste of his own medicine, and Oliver did not like it. Not at all. Whereas he might have been reassured with the knowledge that Felicity, Connor, and Mia were hiding things as well, all it actually did was make Oliver wonder why they didn't trust him enough to confide in him. It was both worrisome and a harsh reminder of how much he had hurt others the same way in the past.

With that said, though his enjoyment of the holiday season might have been dimmed, it was certainly not extinguished. It was not only his first with his son but also his first with Felicity and her daughter. While Oliver had been celebrating Christmas with Thea and Roy as his family, it just wasn't the same thing. Plus, their celebrations over the years had been muted and perfunctory – dinners and presents at Thea and Roy's apartment versus their family home. The Queen Manor had not seen a holiday since Oliver and Thea's parents had died, and, in that time, Oliver had managed to forget just how much he liked Christmas, just how much he had missed it. Before he had met Felicity Smoak, never would he have been able to predict that a babbling slip of a Jewish woman would restore his holiday spirit.

But she had.

What was even harder to believe was that she had only been a part of his life for a little less than three months, for, in a matter of weeks, she had become an irreplaceable presence. Oliver could neither see a future without her nor comprehend how he had managed without her in the past for so long. And he felt the same way about his son as well. But that level of attachment simply brought him back to the problem at hand: the threat of losing them both due to not only his own secrets but theirs as well.

Whereas Felicity's secrets had resulted in unexplained absences, Connor's meant that he was even more present in the manor. Oliver wasn't complaining about that – about having his son close to him. What worried the new father was that, wherever Connor now went, Mia wasn't far behind, and, when he would spot those two together, they were always whispering. Conspiring. Hiding something – not from each other, but together... from Felicity and him, despite the fact that, thanks to Mia, Connor was at least one person that Oliver wasn't keeping anything from now.

"Just give it a rest already!"

"No."

"I said drop it," Mia ordered. As Oliver stumbled onto the teens' conversation, he came to a screeching halt. He had left work early that afternoon in order to run home and change before going Christmas shopping. Obviously, his son and Felicity's daughter had not anticipated this development and were having a very heated and private argument right out in the open along the upstairs hallway which led to the bedrooms which were closed up and never used.

"And I said no," Connor countered back. "I'm not going to drop it, because this needs to stop, Mia. Your mom does not deserve the way you treat her."

"God," Felicity's daughter groaned in complaint. "If you only realized how much you sound like your own dad right now."

"Let's just... leave Oliver out of his for now."

Mia snorted. "Yeah. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"While I won't deny that Oliver and I have our issues, I'm at least civil towards him."

"I'm... civil."

"Refraining from slandering her is far from civil, Mia," Connor snapped.

"Look, there are some things between...

my mother and I that you don't know about."

Smugly, Oliver heard his son challenge, "what, you mean your dad?" Mia attempted to snap at him, but Connor plowed right over her objection. The combination of his deeper tone raised to an even more elevated volume drowned out Mia's complaint which, no doubt, would have contained some kind of profanity and a whole hell of a lot of attitude. While their training and Mia's counseling had gone a long way to curb her temper, it would never disappear entirely. And Oliver wouldn't want it to, because that's just who Mia was, and he could relate to that edge. After all, he lived there himself – still, to that day. "About how your mom created some computer virus, and he took the fall for her, going to jail. About how he died in prison before you were even born?"

In that moment, Oliver was torn. He knew what was going to come out of Connor's mouth next, and he knew that it was going to crush Mia. As much as he wanted to protect Felicity's daughter and honor his girlfriend's trust, Mia would never be able to heal completely and really enter recovery for her addiction until she knew

the whole truth about her father, and Oliver wasn't the one betraying Felicity's confidence; it was Connor... however his son had learned the truth about Cooper. So, making a split second decision, he remained concealed around the corner of the stairwell, safely hidden away from the confrontation he was eavesdropping upon, allowing the teenagers to play it out to its conclusion... whatever that may be.

"Newsflash, Mia: Cooper Seldon was no hero. Yes, your mom did create that virus, but she wasn't the one who used it. That would be your precious dad – after he stole it, after he lost control, after he refused to listen to your mom when she begged him not to. As for him dying in prison, he wasn't defending himself or even defending your mom's honor; he wasn't shanked. He hung himself, Mia! Your father chose suicide over facing his mistakes like a man, and your mom chose to protect your image of him."

Once Connor stopped talking, stopped yelling, Mia was quick to object, "I don't believe you!"

"Then do your own research if you want, but you're not going to find anything different. My information is solid."

"Really," Felicity's daughter scoffed. But the gesture was obviously from bravado and not doubt. "And I'm just supposed to what – call up the prison where my father died and ask them? Or, better yet, maybe I'll write to the grandparents WHO DON'T EVEN KNOW THAT I EXIST!"

"You know, sometimes... no, make that

all the times, I wonder how you're Felicity's daughter." Before Mia could react, Connor pressed forward. "It doesn't take that much effort to dig up dirt on someone, Mia."

"Yeah, well, not all of us have a rich daddy whose money we can spend to pay others to do things for us."

"I didn't hire a private investigator." Then, before Mia could ask how Connor found out the information about her dad, he volunteered, "if it's on the internet, I can find it."

"Then how the hell don't you know already that your father is the Green Arrow?"

Panicking, Oliver revealed himself, hurrying towards the two teenagers, particularly his son, in an effort to... do something. What, he wasn't sure. Despite knowing exactly why Mia had revealed his secret identity to his son – she was hurt by Connor's harsh truths about Cooper, and she wanted to hurt Connor back, Oliver still found himself looking at the young woman for some kind of explanation. "Mia, why would...? How...? How could you...?" But Mia just stared at him in apologetic defiance. As Oliver turned towards Connor, he realized that, if he just would have stayed hidden, Connor might have dismissed Mia's announcement, but, instead, by reacting, Oliver had just confirmed the reveal as the truth. "Connor, I..."

In whispered awe, his son then shocked the hell out of Oliver by saying, "oh. Wow. Everything about you just became so unbelievably clear."

And, from there, Oliver had just lost further control of the situation. In light of Connor learning the truth about Oliver's secret identity, Mia had purposefully pushed aside the information she had learned about her own father in favor of playing mediator between Oliver and Connor. But, surprisingly, there had been little for her to referee. Oh, she still contributed her Mia sized and shaped, snarky comments to the discussion, particularly when she told Connor that Oliver had yet to confide his preference for earth tones and his proficiency with sharp and pointy things to Felicity, but, generally, Connor took the news that his father was the Green Arrow in stride.

Like his immediate reaction had attested, the revelation actually helped Connor come to grips with it taking seventeen years for Oliver to become a part of his life. While he now knew that Oliver was unaware of his existence during that time, there had been a part of him that had irrationally believed that his father should have just known. Learning of Oliver's vigilante history gave depth, and weight, and credence to the fact that Oliver returned from the island a changed man, one who struggled to live in civilization again and who was running from his past rather than fondly wondering what had ever happened to a girl named Sandra Hawke who had once, as Oliver had believed for so many years, lost his baby.

By the time their conversation had come to a natural yet still hesitant end, all three of them were sitting on the carpeted floor of the upstairs hallway, jumping like children caught sneaking cookies before dinner when Felicity came in the front door, already calling out for them. Oliver never went shopping that night, and Mia and Connor both urged him to tell Felicity that he was the Green Arrow before returning to their typical teenage state of sullenness and standoffishness. Yet, it was a couple of weeks later, and Felicity still didn't know about Oliver's secrets, she was keeping her own from him and the kids, Mia still refused to confront her mother about the information Connor had shared with her about her father, and Connor and Mia were now practically inseparable... but in a begrudging sort of way. That – their strange alliance – was probably what worried Oliver the most.

"So, what do you think our chances are of convincing Connor and Mia that they have to go to bed early so that Santa will come," Felicity asked him as she wrapped her long, bare arms around his waist. Oliver was caught so off guard by her voice, by her touch, by her sheer presence... despite the fact that he had been waiting in the study for Felicity, Connor, and Mia to join him, that he tensed and jumped slightly in her embrace. That had never happened before – Felicity being capable of surprising him, and she knew it, too, so it wasn't shocking when she remarked, "whoa! You must have been a million miles away just now." Not waiting for Oliver to verify her conclusion, Felicity asked him, "is everything alright?"

Turning around in her arms but keeping her close so as to not break the embrace, Oliver attempted to reassure her. "Of course. Everything is fine. Why wouldn't it be?"

Despite his best efforts, she evidently saw through him, because Felicity pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and crooked her head in that way she had that could wordlessly call him out on his bullshit. Oliver loved and loathed that look in equal measures. "Uh... maybe the fact that we're celebrating Christmas two days early, because Connor's going to Central City for two weeks. Or perhaps because I might have accidentally stumbled across your presents..."

"You mean you snooped," Oliver interrupted Felicity, correcting her. Even in their heaviest of moments, he couldn't not tease her.

"… and your wrapping abilities... or lack thereof as the case may be... are tragic. Your mother's soul sister, gold sister, Candy Spelling, is weeping. In shame."

Lifting his hands to frame her adorable face, Oliver chuckled her name, "Felicity," as he leaned down to kiss her berry-red mouth. It was a brief embrace – not because he didn't want to deepen it but because Felicity was already pulling away to continue talking.

"And yet it could also be the fact that, between the two of us, we have two teenagers and more than our fair share of disposable income... well, at least you do, anyway, and neither of them are anywhere to be found. If I had as many presents under the tree as Mia and Connor have, you can bet your bottom Benjamin that I'd be here. On time. With bells on. And... probably shaking the boxes to compare their packing quality."

"Packing quality and not size," he queried mischievously.

"Well, yeah," Felicity bantered back with him. "Everyone knows that size isn't everything. The best electronics are slim and nearly weightless. Who wants a bulky, oversized piece of machinery? It's all about the equipment's agility, speed, and ability to get the job done." Before Oliver could tease Felicity about what she had just said, Connor wandered into the room. They turned around to greet him, Felicity already pulling him into the conversation, while Oliver took a moment to observe his son. "If you don't believe me, just ask Connor. He'll tell you the same exact thing."

Even as Oliver played along by claiming, "god, I hope not," he cataloged the tightness of Connor's slim shoulders, how his wide and nervous eyes refused to meet theirs. Something was wrong, and there wasn't a shred of doubt in Oliver's mind that it had something to do with Connor's newfound rapport with Mia.

Before Oliver could voice his concern or ask a question to better gauge the situation, Felicity moved away from him and towards the tree. As she adjusted the presents back and forth without really accomplishing anything, she asked Connor, "where's Mia? I thought you two were finishing up some last minute shopping today, and that's why you were late. Both of you. Together."

"I, uh," Connor hedged. He scratched at his jaw, and then, to further cement Oliver's suspicion, he looked at his cell phone which was out in his hand rather than in his pocket. "I'm not sure. About Mia."

Felicity stood up straight and pivoted to face the young man. "You're not sure about where she is now or where she has been all day?" Connor didn't answer; Felicity took several steps towards him, becoming more forceful with her questions. "Did you go Christmas shopping today, Connor? Did Mia go Christmas shopping today?"

"Um, yeah. I guess. We had some supplies... I mean, some things to pick up... earlier." As soon as the word 'supplies' fell from his son's lips, Oliver felt a lead weight land heavily in the pit of his stomach.

Apparently, Felicity had picked up on that slip as well, because she questioned, "supplies? What kind of supplies?"

"You know, tech stuff," he hedged. It was an obvious lie, because, just like Felicity, Connor took pride in his knowledge of specificity when it came to computers. "Girl... stuff."

"So, you're telling me that my daughter went to buy electronics with you, while you went with my daughter to buy tampons."

Even if the suggestion was a better cover story than what Connor was offering, Oliver's son couldn't accept it. "What? No! Of course not."

"THEN WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!" As soon as Felicity's rage materialized, it disintegrated, and she collapsed against the nearest surface – a table Raisa had set up with cookies and hot chocolate before leaving for the night. The fine china plates and sterling silver service crashed loudly to the floor, spilling and creating a mess, but, when Oliver and Connor reacted – Oliver faster than his son but Connor no less concerned, they both tried to catch her before she could fall and hurt herself. Brokenly, Felicity pleaded, "just tell me the truth, Connor. Please. She relapsed again. Didn't she?"

"No."

Felicity was crying, tears driving tracks down her pale with worry face and dripping off her chin to darken the already dark green fabric of the dress she was wearing; tears stabbing Oliver's heart far better than any knife she or anyone else could ever wield. "I know that the two of you have been getting along lately, that you've become friends," Felicity said to his son. She was in Oliver arms as he held her, as she practically sat in his lap, and she reached her own hands out to Connor, twining her fingers together with those of the teenager. "And I'm so grateful for that Connor, I really am – not only because of... well, because of your father and me, but also because Mia needs you, and I think, in your own way, you need Mia as well. But, please, don't cover for her. Don't lie for her. That's not the kind of friend she needs."

Calmly, confidently, Connor assured her. "I'm not covering for her, Felicity, at least... not like that."

"I don't," she paused long enough to sniffle, to let go of one of Connor's hands to wipe at her runny nose. "I don't understand. If she's not..."

"She's not on drugs again," Connor reassured, cutting Felicity off. And his tone was so steady, so full of promise, that his five words quietly yet effectively put that concern to rest. After a brief pause, Connor was the first to admit a secret. It wasn't one of his own, and it wasn't Oliver's, but it was just as damning... if not even more so. "She's Speedy – that new vigilante."