Disclaimer – I do not own the Arrow.

Chapter III – What's in a Hand

Felicity's heart melted a little bit more each time Connor moved his blue-eyed gaze between her and the toy. She didn't want to scare him; she knew that he had to be confused and lost. She wondered if anyone had told him his mother had died, she prayed that if they had it wasn't that God awful woman still in the room behind her.

She moved her hand to the head of the tiger to stroke it's head, knowing she did the right thing when she saw Connor's eyes widen and then relax when he realized that her hand was moving to the toy and not him. They'd have to move slowly with this sweet, shy, boy.

"And what's his name, Connor?"

"Mr. Orange", one of his arms loosening from where he held the tiger close to his chest.

"I've got some friends with me that would really love to meet you and Mr. Orange, Connor. Would you like to meet them?"

His eyes quickly went to the room behind her and then back to her face, the trepidation right back in his gaze.

"The lady…". His voice was so small and hesitant that her heart broke a little bit more for all that he had suffered in the last couple of days.

"You don't want to see her again?"

His eyed welling up and the small shake of his head was answer enough and she moved the hand from the head of the tiger to one of his, softly stroking it. Something about this child made her both calm and at the same time protective of him.

She'd never thought of having child. Sure, she'd always thought that one day in the very distant future there would be a family that was all her own. A husband and child. The white picket fence and after school play dates. A rare home cooked meal (preferably not made by her, she didn't want to poison anybody, she wasn't crazy). But she'd never actually imagined it, especially not these days. Her life these days revolved around Queen Consolidated and the Arrow. Sometimes she didn't know how she even functioned on so little sleep and so much caffeine.

Not to mention Oliver. The most complicated, brooding, hardheaded and devoted man she had ever met. The man that she loved. Yes, she thought about him. To be entirely truthful her thoughts rarely ever strayed away from him. But she never allowed herself to picture a future. A future where he was her husband. A future that involved a child that was half his and half hers. Their future was too ambiguous, with her helping him battle both in the boardroom as Oliver Queen and the streets as the Arrow. She had never allowed herself to think about it.

Yet here stood a child before her that was his future.

Without asking anyone, without caring about anyone's opinions, fate had handed Oliver Queen a child. A child that had just lost his mother and needed his father.

A father that now needed her to be strong for them both.

"I'm not going to pressure you into anything you don't want to do, so you just tell me no if you don't feel comfortable with something, but if we go into the room behind me, I can make sure you never have to see that woman again. You can hold my hand and be brave for me. You can watch me send her away from you. And then we can maybe see to getting you and my friends out of here. How does that sound?"

She'd never been a whiz with kids. Never really had the chance to be fair. But going with her gut instincts she thought that giving him a choice, giving him back some sort of control over the confusing and tragic situation he had found himself in, might just give him the little bit of security that he needed right now.

"What do you say, Connor? Want to hold my hand and help me be brave while we face her together?" She said as she extended her free hand towards him, smiling softly at him.

He didn't nod or say anything. But for the second time that day Connor Hawke extended his hand towards her and wrapped his fingers around hers.

… O&F …

The room was silent in the wake of Felicity 's Smoak's abrupt departure.

Until, that is, Miss Trice shook herself out of her stupor enough to realize she needed to save face in front of the handsome Mr. Queen lest he start to believe anything that woman had said about her.

"Well, I've never…"

Digg was quick to interrupt the outraged woman, knowing very well that nothing she would say would be relevant to Oliver's son.

"I'd be very careful about anything that you have to say right now Miss Trice"

Her head moved towards his direction so quick he hoped she got whiplash.

"I don't appreciate being insulted by that blonde, and especially in front of my charge's father no less…" her anger was building, only to be interrupted again, though this time by a voice as hard as steel that sent a shiver of nervousness up her spine.

"None of what that blonde stated was inaccurate". Oliver's voice was quiet, deadly, and the effect was jarring enough that she finally got the hint that possibly closing her mouth and not insulting the woman that had just left might be in her best interest.

The room descended into a thick sticky silence yet again.

Lance moved to pick up Sandra Hawke's file with copies of the will, stating that everything was left to Connor. There wasn't much. From what Lance had read, Sandra and Connor Hawke had moved here recently from Gotham, she had rented an apartment but had not yet enrolled her son in a child care or school. Her savings weren't anything substantial. She had meant to start a new job that following Monday. He had made a note of all of this, also adding the keys to the rented apartment, on the first page of the file knowing that between Felicity and Diggle the details would be taken care of.

His eyes drifted to Oliver's hunched frame and for the first time since the boy's, now a man, return he felt a stab of pity for him. Yes, he would certainly need both Felicity's and Diggle's help in the coming months. Years even.

He extended the file to Diggle, knowing that Queen wasn't in any frame of mind to process the technicalities that were ahead of him in the next couple of days.

"This should cover the basics and the documentation for now, anything else that's needed that you need my help with just let me know".

John Diggle's nod of acknowledgement was the only reply he got before the sound of the door slowly opening forced every head in the room towards the entryway.

Each man in the room noticed a different thing about the woman now entering the room.

Lance saw the way she contrasted everything around her. Her bright clothes, blonde hair, everything about her brought light into his drab office in a way he couldn't remember anyone else every doing. She was certainly a stark contrast to the two men that were usually by her side on any given day.

Diggle noticed her posture, the way she pushed her shoulders back, chin up and eyes the color of thunder. If the situation wasn't so intense he would have smiled at the verbal lashing she was about to unleash on the now fidgeting and flushed Miss Trice.

Oliver noticed something different. Something that caused his pulse to stutter and throat to clog up.

He looked at her hand, a hand that he looked at every day to see what color nail polish she had decided to go with that day. He sometimes caught himself trying to guess the color on the way to the office. Feeling an irrational sense of accomplishment on the days when he guessed correctly.

This time he didn't look at the fuchsia nails he knew she had painted two days ago.

He looked at her fingers holding a tiny hand in hers.

A tiny hand that belonged to a child that was almost completely hidden behind her own small frame.

A tiny hand that belonged to his son.

…

Thank you for those still with me years from when I first started writing, and to those that have only come across my work. I hope you enjoyed this new chapter.

Reviews and your opinions are always appreciated and loved.

Xx - Stace