Sorry this chapter took so long, been a little busy the last month. I'm going to have start breaking with canon and this is the chapter I start doing that. Hope you enjoy.
When John steps up security for everyone associated with Oliver in the wake of Slade's appearance in Starling City, he and Oliver both agree he should personally see to Felicity's protection. It leaves him little time to rest, but they don't want to trust the task to anyone outside the team. Physically at least, she's the weakest player on the board.
They don't tell her at first, because they know she'll disagree, but John is unsurprised when Felicity appears that first morning with a hot cup of cocoa. He knows she is right when she reminds him that Slade would have no trouble killing her if he really wanted to, so, he stops coming after he listens to Oliver and Felicity argue it out. But he starts back up again once Lyla's infrequent visits to Starling City stop completely. Or he assumes they do, since she stops calling him after he finds out about her association with the Suicide Squad, effectively ending whatever relationship they were slowly rebuilding.
Felicity appears at 6:30 a.m. sharp each morning with a hot cup of cocoa, with marshmallows on subsequent visits. Except one day, she comes to the car shortly before midnight.
"You're a little early," he jokes when she opens the door and leans down to peer at him.
"This isn't about cocoa," she says seriously and John has to stifle a laugh. She sighs and gives him the kind of annoyed look she usually reserves for Oliver before telling him what this is about. "Listen, if you're going to insist on trying to protect me, can you at least come inside the house? You're starting to freak out my neighbors."
"Old lady next door?" he guesses, remembering the way the curtains in that house seem to move just about every hour.
"Yes," Felicity says with a scowl. "And I'd like to avoid having her lecturing me again about how persistence is not love and I shouldn't date a man who doesn't respect my boundaries and how there are plenty of fish in the sea for a pretty young girl like me."
"Technically speaking, that's good advice," John jokes and gets narrowed eyes and a withering stare in return.
"Are you coming in or not?" she asks after a moment. John considers refusing at first. He can keep a better lookout from outside, but he really is getting bored sitting in the darkness all night. And really, she was right, if Slade's going to attack her, it won't much matter where John is when it happens.
"Fine," he agrees.
"Good," she says with a decisive slam of the door, making John wonder if he ever really had a choice. He collects his few things and follows her inside and is pretty sure he sees the old woman next door frown at him through her curtains. Felicity leads him through the door and then turns to him after he shuts it behind them.
"So, I've got a guest room upstairs and there's the couch down here," she says. "Which is better?"
"I'll take the couch if that's alright," he replies, "anyone trying to get in will have to start on the ground floor anyway."
"OK. There's a bathroom over there," she says and points down the hall. "There should be towels in there already. You want a toothbrush or anything?"
"Toothbrush would be good," he replies.
"Right," she says back and then turns to walk up the stairs. John waits at the bottom, feeling slightly awkward until she returns. "I'm guessing you don't have any pajamas or anything to change into, right?" she asks.
"Nope." She hums in thought and frowns.
"I'd offer you something to wear, but I'm pretty sure you would need at least two of my shirts to cover you and I definitely don't have any pants that would fit you. We'll just have to pick something up from your apartment before we come back tomorrow night. I usually get up around 6 to get ready for work and make breakfast."
"I'll help," John offers.
"Oh, OK," she replies, sounding surprised. "It's not like it's that difficult, really. Usually I just drink enough coffee to feel like a human again while I make my way through a bowl of cereal."
John huffs a laugh and then replies with a simple, "Good night, Felicity."
"'Night, John," she replies and turns to go upstairs.
For the first hour or so, John tries to stay awake. That is his job, after all. But soon, the indistinct mutterings from the television start to lull him to sleep instead of keeping him awake. So, he decides to give in and stop fighting against how surprisingly comfortable Felicity's couch is.
He wakes up a few hours later to the distant sound of her alarm going off upstairs. He's thankful though, she would have mocked him relentlessly if she had caught him sleeping on the job.
By the time Felicity comes downstairs–in her robe and with her hair still damp from her shower–he has coffee made and is just dividing the eggs between two plates.
"Hope you don't mind scrambled," he says.
"No, that looks great," she says with a smile. "I'll get you a cup?" she asks, pointing to the coffee maker.
"Please."
John picks up their plates, brings them to the dining area just off the kitchen and sits down at the places he set earlier. Felicity follows a few moments later, a mug in each hand and a small carton of half-and-half tucked under her arm.
"Thanks," he says as she sets down his mug.
"Sure. You don't take sugar right?" she asks and tilts her head. "I didn't put any in yours."
"Nope," he replies. John has never much liked sugar in his coffee, just a bit of cream to cool it down and temper the bitter edge. Felicity, on the other hand, adds an almost alarming amount of both to her coffee. John smiles as he watches her fill her slightly empty cup with the contents of the carton and remembers her explaining that she, "hates the taste but needs the caffeine."
"Mmm," she hums in satisfaction when she first bites into the food. "I would have invited you in ages ago if I'd known you'd cook too."
"Part of the full-service bodyguard experience," he jokes and she laughs under her breath before she takes a sip of coffee.
When Felicity sets the mug on the table again, she fixes him with a stare similar to the one she gave him when she came to the car last night and he prepares himself for a lecture.
"Listen, John," she starts. "Not that I don't appreciate the breakfast and I'll admit having you around makes me feel a little less paranoid, but I thought we talked about this. If Slade wants to hurt me, he will. You sitting outside my house isn't going to make much of a difference. Not unless you really are turning into that lacrosse player. So what are you doing here?"
John inhales to explain and is surprised to realize he doesn't know what to say. They both know she's right even if Oliver won't admit it. He does know, however, that he prefers spending his nights making sure Felicity is safe to being in his apartment.
"Is it because of Lyla?" she prompts. John can't help but smile at that; he forgets sometimes how perceptive she is. He should have known simply telling her and Oliver a vague story about being needed for a mission with ARGUS wouldn't be enough to keep her from getting curious. "You never said what happened, not that you have to," she adds quickly. "It's just you've seemed kind of down since then and you haven't taken any of your usual nights off to...see her," she finishes, cheeks coloring slightly.
John pokes at the food on his plate a moment, considering what he should say before he sighs and looks up at her.
"You remember the night Moira shot Oliver, when he brought you to the lair for the first time?" he asks.
"How could I forget?" she replies and gets a sort of dazed look a moment. The corner of his mouth turns up in a mirthless smile.
"Do you remember what I told you about what happened overseas? About the boy I killed?" She nods, her brow furrowing. "The man I saved, the government took him in, traded his survival for the information he could give, despite everything he'd done. And he'd continued doing it, of course." He stabs the food on his plate a little roughly and takes a bite only to realize he doesn't have much of an appetite anymore. He sets his fork down and shoves the plate away.
"What does this have to do with Lyla and ARGUS?" Felicity prods, gentle but insistent.
"He appeared to go legitimate, but ARGUS found out he was involved in chemical weapons," John explains and her eyebrows shoot up. "They wanted someone he trusted, me," he says and points at himself, "to infiltrate and find out for sure."
"So that's what you two were doing," she suggests.
"Us and the Suicide Squad," he says bitterly.
"The what?"
"It's a team headed by Amanda Waller. Deadshot is on it," he adds and watches Felicity's face as she registers that information.
"Oh, John," she says and reaches out to place a hand on his arm. He gives her a tight smile before he goes on.
"Working with him wasn't what I expected, " he admits, picking up his abandoned fork to push his food thoughtfully around his plate. "I felt sorry for him," John says, still shocked by it. "Despite everything he's done, he doesn't deserve to have having to live with a bomb in his head."
"What?!" Felicity yelps, jumping in her seat.
"That's how Waller keeps her little band criminals in line," he says before adding, "though I don't know Lyla's excuse."
"What do you mean?"
"She works with them," he explains, letting his fork clatter onto his plate again. "And she's not even being forced to."
"So that's what you guys fought about?" she asks tentatively. "That she's working with Deadshot and didn't tell you?"
"No, it's because she's using the excuse of following orders to justify what they're doing," he says, voice rising. "It's barely legal and certainly not right."
Felicity eyes him a moment and then purses her lips in a frown.
"Are we really that different?" she asks softly after a moment.
"What do you mean?" John asks, confused.
"Team Arrow isn't exactly made up of the most law-abiding citizens, Digg," she argues.
"Yeah, but we're trying to help people," he replies and leans toward her, begging her to understand. "I can't be with someone who compromises in the wrong way," he explains and sits back on the couch, staring thoughtfully into space.
Felicity is silent a moment and then he suddenly feels her take his hand in hers.
"Are you sure you've made the right choice here, John?" she asks sincerely. "You know how much trouble I had with Oliver killing at the beginning and I don't know if I'd still be here if he hadn't stopped." Felicity pauses and seems to steel herself, as if she's worried how he'll take what she's about to say. "But I don't think I've seen you this sad since you ended things with Carly. Maybe this is even worse." She reaches out and takes his hand. "You clearly care about Lyla," she continues, "maybe your happiness is more important than the moral high ground this time."
John looks down at their hands and considers her words a few moments before he looks up.
"Do you remember what else I told you that first night you came to Verdant, about why I started working with Oliver?" he asks.
Felicity sits back and frowns in concentration a moment before she answers.
"You told me that you were trying to atone for the things you'd done," she says softly.
"Right," he confirms. "I know I'm doing something good by helping him protect this city, now more than ever. Even if we're breaking the law, I know it's for the greater good. As much as I love Lyla and wish we could try again, she's going to have to keep doing the wrong thing to follow orders. I don't want to be that kind of person anymore and I can't be with someone who is."
Felicity stares at him a moment, giving him that sympathetic half-smile she often gives Oliver when she wants to help him but knows she can't.
"You are such an idealist," she teases in that sweet way that never breeds hurt.
"I get it from you," he teases back and smiles when she starts in surprise.
"What do you mean?" she asks and tilts her head.
"Your morality. It's always been so clear-cut. You don't let any of us make easy justifications. I admire that." Felicity blushes and turns her eyes away and John has the errant thought that it's actually quite criminal that she can look so lovely at this hour.
"Oh my God, is it really that late?!" she says with a start when her eyes land on the digital clock on her stove. "We've got to hurry," she say and stands, collecting their plates.
"It's OK," John says, taking them from her hands. "I'll clean up. You go finish getting ready."
"Thanks," Felicity replies and then rushes out of the room.
Breakfast becomes a ritual between them. Sometimes Felicity helps John cook, but he's content to do it by himself. Her gasps of delight each time she comes down the stairs and sees whatever elaborate meal he's decided to make that morning become their own reward. Lunch and dinner also become a thing between them, though that was always the case. Except they start to get better at predicting what the other one wants.
It's when they just look over at each other one night in the lair and, without preamble, say "Chinese" in unison that Sara realizes that something is shifting between them.
So she decides to ask Felicity about it.
Thanks for reading and please leave a review. Hopefully next chapter won't take as long.