Author's Note: We've arrived at the penultimate chapter. This was always intended to be a hiatus fic, so the 10th and final chapter will be up Tuesday. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting!

Chapter 9

"Felicity! It's us! We have coffee and ice cream!"

From the bathroom, she can hear Lyla and Sara using the key she'd given them to let themselves in. She searches her face in the mirror, reassuring herself that the swelling has gone down enough that she won't terrify poor Sara. The past few months have cemented her place as the baby's favorite, and it's not a distinction she's willing to risk. She quickly knots her wet hair on top of her head.

"Hand over the baby and the latte," she says opening her arms.

Lyla does as she's told and Felicity immediately begins alternating sips of coffee and cooing at Sara.

"John and I thought you'd still be at the hospital."

"They released me at 3:00 AM. They only needed to observe me for 8 hours, and I was responding well to the treatments. All better." Felicity holds her coffee up high so Sara can't reach it. "Not yet, Little Miss. When you're older. At least six. You know what this wheelchair needs? A cup holder." Felicity looks up at Lyla. "I know what you're going to say, and don't."

"I feel awful. I was the one who just had to have pad thai-"

"Stop. I go to that place all the time. I didn't realize there'd been a management change. If anything I'm lucky we ordered it last night, otherwise I probably would've gotten it on a night I was on my own and that would've been a lot worse. They would've put it on the news- 'Single Woman Dies of Food Allergy, Eaten by Cats'. They'd quote my mom, 'If only she had a boyfriend.'"

"Stop making me laugh, I can't breathe. Besides, that will never happen, because I will never, ever let you get a cat."

"That's what friends are for."

Lyla holds up the grocery bag she brought. "That and helping you avoid dangerous allergens. Everything I've got here is nut-free. I called the company. I may even have called in a favor and gotten some surveillance reports from the creamery and the coffee roaster."

"Lyla, that was a spectacularly bad use of a favor." Baby Sara bangs on the wheelchair handles and Felicity starts rolling her around the way she likes.

"I don't think I can be too cautious. Like I said, you scared us. Plus, I'm pretty sure if anything goes wrong when you're in my vicinity again, I'm going to be getting a middle of the night visit from the Green Arrow. Taking you undercover while you were supposed to be on a rest was one thing- letting you come into contact with peanuts was enough to put Oliver Queen right over the edge."

Felicity scoffs. "The Green Arrow could try to show up at your place in the middle of the night, but Spartan would kick his ass all the way back to Lian Yu. Wouldn't he Sar-Bear? Yes, he would."

"So...speaking of Oliver, I'm assuming you haven't been online yet this morning?"

Oh god. Felicity groans. "Lyla...why?"

Lyla cringes and hands over her tabet. "I didn't find out you had been discharged by calling the hospital."

"You have got to be kidding me." Felicity scrolls through dozens of tweets and blogs speculating that she and Oliver had rekindled their relationship. Truthfully, she had no idea they were that popular. She should have paid more attention to how much attention people were paying to her….or to Oliver really. Apparently interest in his biceps didn't end with his billionaire playboy days. A few of the posts even contained photographic evidence.

"Noooooo. I knew it was a bad idea to let him carry me. Damn it. I was just so tired, and he offered, and it was the middle of the night, and Oliver can be really convincing when he wants to be. It was a moment of weakness, okay? Who could've even gotten that picture." Felicity peeks out her blinds and glares. "Mrs. Ferdinand. Has to be. She probably has a long-range lens because she's so convinced someone is stealing her stupid cat. Damn, damn, damn."

"Damn," copies Sara. Felicity looks horrified and throws her hands over the little girl's ears.

"Oh no, I'm corrupting her. Don't tell John."

"Trust me, you're the least of our worries. Teach her all the bad words you want, just make sure she gets into MIT."

"Well, that's a given." Felicity snuggles with Sara. "I know I shouldn't be surprised what people on the internet care about, but come on. This city is falling apart. You'd think these people would have bigger problems than my relationship with Oliver."

"So... is there any truth to it? Did you and Oliver talk last night?"

"Yes, we talked. No, we're not back together. Wait, do you think we should be back together?"

Lyla holds up her hands. "I think you should be doing whatever it is you're choosing to do. I just wondered."

"He really loves me."

"That has never been in doubt."

"And...I still really love him."

"Neither has that."

"But I don't know if I can do it, Lyla. I know with Oliver there are always going to be ghosts and challenges, and I can handle all of that...as long as we're partners. Real partners. I thought that's where Oliver was too, but now…."

Lyla hands her a bowl of ice cream. "You don't have to figure all out today. Now for a subject change, that thing that we were celebrating with our pad thai of doom...is it still happening?"

Felicity smiles. "Yep."

"Oh, wow."

"I'm trying not to get my hopes up…."

"But it's promising. Have you talked to Paul about it?"

"He's setting up tests for tomorrow."

They clink ice cream spoons in a cheers.

oOo

Five minutes after Lyla and Sara leave, there's a knock on the door.

"Did you forget some-?"

But it's Oliver wheeling a giant cooler.

"Did you really just open the door without checking to see who it was? Felicity, come on."

"If I let you in, is it going to be a story on TMZ?"

Oliver grins. "You saw that, huh?"

"Yes, and why are you smiling? I'm outraged. You should be outraged."

Oliver straightens and puts on a terrible approximation of his angry face. "Right. Yes. I will send them a very strongly worded tweet, just as soon as you let me in."

Felicity rolls her eyes and nods to the cooler. "What, are you looking for a place to store your beer? Or, wait, is that full of ice cream, because if that is ice cream, then Oliver you've really brought out the big guns. I mean, Lyla beat you to it, but you can never have too much. At least, I can never have too much." She lets him in, and sees his surprise that she doesn't put up more of a fight. She knows him well enough to know he'd probably prepared a whole speech about why she must let him in, and she delights in denying him the opportunity to deliver it. Ha. Felicity 1, Oliver 0.

He doesn't seem to hold it against her. Just says, "I'm filing that ice cream information away for later. But, no, this is full of dinner. And breakfast. And lunch. Enough to get you through the week."

"What?"

"I spent the morning cooking." He starts loading containers from the cooler into her fridge and freezer. "They're all labeled with specific reheating instructions. You won't be able to mess it up."

"That sounds like a challenge."

They both laugh. "You didn't need to do this."

"Yes I did. Takeout isn't safe for you."

"Oliver-"

"Please. I like cooking. I like cooking for you, specifically. I promise there are no strings attached. It's such a little thing. Please let me do this for you." There's a desperate quality to his words that Felicity doesn't miss.

"I was just going to say thank you."

He brightens, just a little. Not enough.

That's the only justification she can find for what she does next, which is say, "About that ice cream Lyla brought. Want some?"

She's asking him to stay, and she can tell by the way his shoulders straighten that the significance of the gesture isn't lost on him.

"Felicity, I would love some ice cream."

oOo

He stays for hours, and it's comfortable. They avoid relationship landmines. She's on the couch reviewing proposals for work, and he sits in the chair, reading a book he'd randomly grabbed off her shelf. It's not like it had been before. Before, he would've been on the couch with her, arm around her waist while she leaned her head on his shoulder. Before, they would've been constantly interrupting each other's work with little comments, which would've eventually become little kisses, which would then morph into making out like teenagers and inevitably ending in the bedroom.

Today, they're mostly silent, but it's not awkward. Felicity can't say for sure what's bothering Oliver. Before, she probably would've pushed, but now she knows there's a good chance he would've lied and she doesn't want to give him the opening this time. She knows she's letting him stay because it comforts him, and even though they are fifty kinds of messed up, she still wants to comfort him. It comforts her too. Oliver is still her home.

She is so screwed. She decides to just give in to it. Even though he's holding back from her, she has news she wants to tell him, and she doesn't want to play games. She has never had the stomach for tit-for-tat.

"Hey, Oliver, you want to see something?"

He looks up in surprise. "Sure."

She motions him over to the end of the couch, and he follows her direction cautiously like maybe she's playing a prank. He's in position, and he looks at her questioningly.

"Okay, look at this." She pulls off her blanket and wiggles her toes.

The smile that spreads across his face is absolutely worth revealing her secret.

"Are you kidding me? Felicity!" He laughs. "When did this start?"

"Yesterday. Before what Lyla is calling the pad thai of doom. We were celebrating."

"This is...wow...this is amazing. So, the implant is working?"

Yes, is what she wants to shout, but she's not quite through managing expectations- both Oliver's and her own. "Maybe. It's just my toes, but I have an appointment tomorrow."

Oliver keeps watching her feet, and she can tell by the way he keeps opening and closing his fists that he's fighting the urge to scoop her up. A weak part of her, a part she's not exactly proud of, can't help but wish he'd lose that fight.

"Can-" Oliver swallows, his nervousness written all over his face. "Could I come with you? To the appointment?"

Say no, say no, say no. You know what, actually, fuck that. "Yes. On one condition. You tell me what's bothering you."

Oliver flashes her a wry grin. "Well, I made a huge idiotic mistake, hurt the person I love most in the world, lost her, then she went and almost died from an allergy…."

"Oliver. What else is bothering you?"

Oliver sits on the couch, lifting her legs across his. He looks at her to make sure it's okay, and she nods. He just sits there for five full minutes and Felicity is sure he's not going to say anything, but then he takes a deep breath and begins.

"Samantha wants to take WIlliam away, somewhere no one can find him. Including me."

That is not at all what she was expecting hear. A swell of anger rises in Felicity's chest. "What? No, Oliver, she can't do that."

Oliver looks at her, and there's urgency in his gaze. "But what if it's the right thing to do?" She shakes her head, not understanding. "I...I mean, I'm finally getting a chance here, to be his father in the open, and it's all I want. As messed up as everything is right now, Felicity, as much as I regret how I handled this all wrong, I don't regret finding out about him."

"Of course you don't." Her anger is building. Samantha kept Oliver's son from him for eight years. She doesn't get to take him away now. "You should've known about him from the start. Why are you even considering that this might be the right thing?"

Then he explains their fears, and the anger fades and is replaced by an ache for this man that she still loves and the little boy who does indeed have his smile and even the woman whose situation must seem impossible.

"It would be different, if…. It would be different if Samantha and I had been in a real relationship, if she had always known, if we'd made the decision together to bring a child into this life…."

And she knows he's telling her in his own awkward way that it would be different if it were the two of them, if they ever decided to have a child. It's information she needs, even if now is the wrong time to ask for it. She's grateful to him for offering it. It feels- and maybe this is her own wishful thinking, because god knows she's been spending way too much of her time wishing, and maybe she's just vulnerable because she did actually almost die last night (again, it's worth noting), so she's going to proceed carefully with this feeling, but… it feels like he understands that they are really and truly in this together now.

"What do I do, Felicity? What's the right thing?"

Right. There is an actual urgent problem in front of her that needs a solution. "I don't know. There's a part of me that absolutely rejects the notion that WIlliam should lose his dad, even for his own protection. There's another part of me that thinks about Damien Darhk and wants to tell Samantha to run as far as she can. Huh. I can project my own issues into this situation in every direction."

Oliver laughs, but it's a little pitiful. "There are no magic answers here."

"You know what, Oliver? No. I reject that too. You've spent this year showing me that we live a world full of magic and, yeah, so far it's mostly been working against us. But I just wiggled my toes for you. Damien Darhk and your weird friends aren't the only ones with magic. I mean, Curtis created something that made it possible for me to wiggle my fracking toes. And I am a genius, something that you have never fully grasped, actually. Not that you're an idiot. I mean, you can kind of be an idiot, as recent events and pretty much every major decision you've ever made on your own proves-"

"Felicity."

She leans forward and takes his head in her hands (but she does not let her thumb rub against the stubble on his cheek, because she isn't quite ready to burn it all to the ground). "But you're not doing this alone." She means it. "You've got me, and I have some thoughts. Maybe even some magic. Together we can work something out. I mean, it may not be ideal, but what if no one has to lose everything?"