FF#15: Deputy Mommy – Part Four
Flash Fic Prompt #15: Bad Day, Good Night.
"Whatever this is, it better be important," Detective – no, scratch that, it was Captain now – Lance said as soon as Felicity pulled open the front door of her building, the man crossing the threshold without waiting for further prompting and passing over her newspaper to her on his way. "Because it's barely eight a.m., and, already, it's been a day." He waltzed straight into her apartment, never once stopping his rant. "Apparently, my waterbed sprung a leak last night, because I woke up soaked. And I know what you're thinking," he warned her with furrowed brows and pointed index finger. "And I don't want to hear it, so don't even go there. Damn toenails." She was thinking that she never needed to know what kind of bed Captain Lance had... or, for that matter, ever have cause to think about his feet. "Then, I couldn't find any clean underwear, so I'm wearing these green speedo... things that Laurel bought me as a gag gift. Uncomfortable bastards." As he complained, he started to walk with a slight limp, and Felicity... shuddered. This was just wrong. When they rounded the hallway and entered her living room, her horror was at least buoyed by the fact that Roy looked traumatized. Good. At least she wasn't the only one. "Not to mention the fact that, once I got in my car to drive over here, I realized that my coffee was cold, so my coffee pot must be broken."
To emphasize his words, Captain Lance thrust his travel mug into her hands, Felicity's forehead wrinkling in confusion when she realized it was empty – unscrew the lid, turn it over, and still not a drop would fall out empty. "But...?"
"What, you didn't think I wasn't going to drink it, did you," Lance scoffed, his face screwing up with disbelief. "It was just cold, not poisoned. And I'm a cop for pete's sake. I've had worse." Without waiting for a response, he moved towards her kitchen, passing Roy on the way. "Harper," he greeted with a nod, apparently not finding it strange that a former street thug was standing in her apartment fully dressed and speechless at 8:03 in the morning on the same day that she was announcing to the world – or, at least, Starling City – that she was running for Deputy Mayor with Oliver Queen. "So, what's going on? What's wrong? What's the emergency? Why'd you call and wake me up out of...? Holy shit." Lance came to a skidding stop in the doorway between the two rooms. "That's a kid," he hissed, turning around to stare wide-eyed at Felicity. "In your kitchen."
His shock helped to temper her own. "Gee, you don't say. I hadn't noticed."
"Why's he... why's he sleeping like that," the police captain wanted to know, gesturing towards the practically passed out child. She watched as he quickly took in his surroundings, years of always looking for the evidence kicking in automatically. "What'd you do, slip him a mickey or something?"
"No," Felicity huffed, annoyed. "Why does everyone keep accusing me of that?"
Lance shrugged, his gaze going to Roy. "Why'd she call you?" Before either Felicity or Roy could answer, he changed his line of questioning somewhat. "Wait. How do the two of you even know each other?" Then he moved fully back into the living room, taking a seat in an armchair. "Just... start from the beginning. Tell me everything."
Roy just helplessly turned towards her, so Felicity took the reins of the conversation in hand. "Roy's a nuisance, but he's also a... a friend." When Roy didn't complain about her insult, she really knew how thrown he was by Captain Lance's presence, TMI confessions, and questions. "We met through the Queens."
"Speaking about your boyfriend," Lance snorted, rolling his eyes. So much for giving her a chance to talk. "Does he know about the kid snoring z's into his Lucky Charms in there?"
"It's oatmeal," she corrected automatically, shaking her head in slight self-reprimand at not being able to let an inaccuracy go without correcting it. "And Oliver is not my boyfriend."
"Really," the cop drawled in disbelief. When she just looked at him impassively, he held his hands up in surrender. "Fine. If that's how you want to play this. And I guess it's a good thing since he's going to be your boss again," he added, gesturing towards the paper tossed haphazardly onto her coffee table. "By the way, I never pegged you as a newspaper subscriber. That seems... out of character."
Of all the things that seemed out of character that morning – a known felon in her living room, a strange child asleep at her kitchen island...? "Oliver's not going to be my boss. We're... partners."
Lance smirked. "Like I said, then, you're dating." She really needed new friends. "So, does he – Queen – know... about the kid?"
"I'm already freaking out enough here," Felicity answered, starting to pace – her left hand going up to rub at her temple while her right arm folded across her chest so her right hand could wrap around her left elbow. "The last thing I need is Oliver freaking out, too, so no. He doesn't know. And I'd like to keep it that way. At least, for now."
"Yeah... I could see how a sudden son showing up out of the blue right when you're in the middle of a political campaign could throw your future mayor of a boyfriend into a tailspin. By the way," Lance added, snapping his fingers at her and raising his eyebrows in emphasis. "I don't care how much he's changed, I'm not voting for him."
"They're running uncontested," Roy spoke for the first time, seemingly finding his voice now that the other man had accused her of a having a freaking secret kid! "Who else are you going to vote for?"
"Anybody else," Lance answered. "The mayor's my boss, do you realize that? I'd rather it be anyone else besides Queen. Hell, I'd vote for you before I voted for him."
The two of them could have gone on for hours if Felicity wouldn't have spoken up. "You think... you think he's mine," she gasped. The words caught in her throat, choking her.
Lance shrugged. "He's here. He's cute, blonde."
"Hey, that's what I said," Roy commented, sharing a grin with the cop. The traitor.
"No," Felicity snapped, backing up several steps until she was pressed up against the far wall, putting as much distance between herself and them as possible. "You thought maybe he was my brother or my nephew, but you never accused me of... of having a child and... what? Giving him up?"
"Usually this doesn't happen until the kid's an adult, right," Lance asked. "Or at least a teenager? How'd he get here?"
"We don't know," Roy answered the Captain, but no one seemed to be addressing her questions.
"I have to admit," Lance continued, practically ignoring her, "that I never thought this would happen to her." With that, he hooked a thumb in Felicity's direction. "Queen? Sure. It's actually kind of a miracle that this hasn't happened with him yet. And you," Quentin nodded in Roy's direction. "This would make sense for you, too, but not Miss Smoak."
"That's because he's not mine," she raised her voice – practically yelling, practically screaming, and definitely not caring who heard or who woke up because of her heated, loud exclamations. "I don't have a child. I never did. I never gave a baby up for adoption. I've never given birth. I've never even been pregnant. I don't know who he is, or where he came from, or why he's here. That's why I called you," she finally finished, explaining her actions. Stalking across the room, Felicity slapped the note the little boy had handed to her what felt like years ago rather than just two hours against Lance's chest. "And here," she said, letting go of the missive once he took it from her. "That's the beginning. That's all I know. Now, you're caught up, so would you please just... tell me what to do."
It took only seconds for Lance to read the five words written in the foreign, unsigned hand. Folding the piece of paper back up, he stood – reaching for her shoulders and holding her in a steadying, apologetic manner. "I'll call child protective services. We'll take care of this."
He went to move away, already reaching for his phone, when she spoke up – her voice quiet, and hesitant, and small in its insecurity. "What... what will happen to him?"
"We'll start looking into who he is, try to find his parents. In the meantime, he'll be placed in a home or with temporary foster parents. After we locate his family... well, that will depend."
But would it really? What kind of explanation could possibly excuse what had been done to the child Felicity now found her life inexplicably linked to? And what if he was related to her; what if she was a part of that family the cops would be searching for? What if she wasn't? What if there wasn't someone out there who was good, and dependable, and capable of taking care of a child – this child? There were so many thoughts swirling around her mind, and no one was more startled at the words that next left her dry and chapped lips than Felicity herself, but she didn't regret what she asked either. "How does someone become a temporary foster parent?"
"What are you saying, Miss Smoak," Lance wanted to know, taking a step closer to her and narrowing his gaze in focus.
"I... I don't really know," she laughed in confusion, in distress, running her hands through her hair and then wincing when her fingers became stuck in the knots. Yet, she did. She did know what she was saying. And then suddenly she just couldn't stop talking. "He's not my child. I'm not his mother. I don't even know if I want to be a mother. I have never laid eyes on that little boy until this morning, but we're... connected now. For some reason, he came to me. Or he was brought to me. I don't know. And now I need answers. I need to know who he is, and why he's here, and why me, and, if his actual mother thinks that he should have been mine, I need to know if I'm even capable of taking care of him. I just... I need to do this. I need to see this through... wherever it takes me."
Lance nodded, seemingly understanding. He grinned slightly, and Felicity would have sworn that she saw pride shining through his tired, sad eyes. "Then you better call Queen, Miss Deputy Mayor, because you're about to throw one hell of a monkey wrench into your campaign."