FF#18: Deputy Mommy – Part Seven
Flash Fic Prompt #18: Free Fall
Deputy Mommy.
She was the second most powerful and influential person in Starling City – and that wasn't her inner narcissist talking; that's where she fell in the political pecking order, but the press had little interest (as in zilch) in her platforms (unless they were her shoes) or her agenda (unless it involved her actual schedule, personally speaking). They were fascinated by her life, digging up all the less than sordid details and making them seem like the plot-line for the next season of House of Cards. The genius, child prodigy daughter of a Vegas cocktail waitress who put herself through college on scholarships, rose through the ranks of Queen Consolidated faster than any other non-executive – i.e. owner or owner's bedmate – ever had, and who was now balancing the mayor's office with motherhood, she was the current muse for every reporter, editor, and gossip columnist in Starling.
They lauded her success, applauded her decision to become a single, foster mother, and dissected her every fashion decision. For now, she was a media darling. They loved her. While Felicity had no doubt that the praise would only last for so long – eventually, both press and the citizens they wrote for would get bored with supporting her and would turn to bashing her, for now, it was a welcome if not befuddling experience. She could do without the Deputy Mommy moniker, believing that it trivialized not only her position in the government but also her role in OJ's life, but it served as a distraction, taking the attention away from Oliver which helped all of them.
Instead of speculating on why the city's new mayor still insisted upon living in his old, abandoned nightclub, there were features written on her neighborhood, highlighting how it was a great place for a young family to reside. Rather than noticing that, occasionally, Oliver sported a strange bruise or limped off the stage after giving a speech, they noticed that she was an expert at shopping and dressing on a budget and that she personally delivered her foster son's lunch to his school when he forget it at home or left it behind in the car. Plus, the newspapers wrote editorials, demanding that other successful singles take such an active and hands on interest in their community, the local television channel did an in depth report on the city's social work system, and money was pouring into all the local orphanages. For that, Felicity could put up with the nonsensical interest into her private life.
Really, it just wasn't that spectacular... well, the parts that the public were aware of. She got up in the morning, showered, made breakfast, and got the two of them ready for school and work respectively. If they were running late, Roy dropped OJ off at school before driving her into the office. She worked until 5:00 when OJ's after school activities were over, and then she and Roy drove back to the school to pick the little boy up. They went home, did homework together while she cooked dinner, and then it was bath time, story time, and then bedtime. Sometimes, she had to go out for evening events, and, when that was the case, Raisa would watch OJ. Sometimes, they babysat Sara so that Diggle and Lyla could still pretend that their lives meant more than just being parents to a newborn.
Or, at least, that's what she allowed everyone to believe what their lives were like.
In all actuality, after Roy dropped them off in the evening, Felicity and OJ sneaked out the back, through the alley, and met up with Roy on the next street over, so he could drive them to the Foundry, and it was there where their lives went from sliced, white bread to pumpernickel. Maybe the team still met up and worked out of the same place, but nothing else was the same about Verdant's basement. As soon as OJ had come into her life, the space had undergone a massive remodeling thanks to her bank account, redesign, and orders. And Diggle's arm muscles.
There were rooms now – separate spaces for separate, secret activities. When you first came down the stairs, you stepped into a living space. It was small and cramped, because it wasn't used, but she had insisted that OJ at least believe that Oliver could use the basement as the home they pretended it was. As an off-shoot of that apartment, they had an office where the team worked out of, where OJ did his homework, and ate his meals, and oftentimes fell asleep as he waited for them to finally go home at night. He didn't see the other rooms – rooms where Oliver made his arrows, where Digg stored and cleaned his weapons, where Roy and Oliver sparred. They never came into the office dressed in their gear, and she never treated even the smallest wound in front of OJ.
To be candid, Felicity hated that so much of their time together was now lost due to the necessity of keeping it separate from the little boy who had unexpectedly entered her life. She still didn't know who he was. She only called him OJ because of Stupid Roy. He had been curious about all the orphan names she used to refer to the still nameless child, so he had done something dangerous and used a computer, looking it up for himself. There – no doubt on wikipedia, the halfwit, he had discovered that Oliver Twist was an orphan as well. Finding it amusing that her son was an orphan and that there was a famous orphan with the same name as her partner – the little snot had perverted the once special way she referred to her connection with Oliver, Roy started to call the kid Oliver Jr, shortening it to OJ, and lamenting the fact that Junior was spelled with a J and not a G, because he really wanted to refer to her foster kid as an OG. Frankly, Felicity was just shocked that Roy knew how to spell Junior... and she made sure she pointed that astonishment out to him. Multiple times.
So, anyway, the basement was now a maze of different rooms, many of which she and OJ never spent time in, and, consequently, despite spending just as much time in the basement as Oliver, John, and Roy, it sometimes felt to Felicity like she wasn't as much a member of the team anymore. Still, though, she didn't regret her decision to embrace OJ, to bring him into her life when he was unceremoniously brought to her doorstep. She had no idea who he was, or why she was connected to him, or what his sudden appearance in her life meant, but it did mean something. He meant something. And she didn't know where their future would lead them – if his family would return, if they ever would find out who he was, or how long he would be a part of her life, but Felicity would be lying to herself if she didn't admit, despite the sacrifices, she liked being OJ's deputy mommy.
"Whatcha doin'?"
The kid sidled up to her, working his way, somehow, onto her lap. He had been doing that now for several weeks, but it still took Felicity by surprise. She wasn't used to such... closeness, especially not with a child. Despite this, though, she liked that OJ felt comfortable enough around her that he wanted to be close to her, and it was a big relief that, despite not being willing to talk about his old life, or who his parents were, or what his name was, he was now actually talking to her.
"Research."
"What kind of research?"
She just sort of wished that the kid wasn't quite as inquisitive as he was. Did all children ask so many questions, or was it just karma coming around to bite her where, these days, only Vicky Secret went? "You know how I'm the mayor, right?" Oliver and Roy were out patrolling... whatever that meant since she was absolutely forbidden from stepping foot out into the field now, and Diggle was at home with his family (Sara was colicky – again, whatever that meant), so she could get away with a little bit of exaggeration. Besides, Oliver might have been the head cheese, billing-wise, but she put forth the lion's share of the ideas. "Well, mayors help police officers, so, right now, I'm researching bad guys – finding them, getting all the information I can gather on them, and then coming up with a plan to take them down."
"To put them in jail?"
"Right," Felicity complimented, making OJ giggle when she accompanied her praise of his comprehension skills with a tap to the nose. While she was doing everything she could to shield him from the truth of her nighttime activities, she also wasn't prepared to lie to him either. Someday, she didn't want OJ to hate her because she wasn't honest with him... not that there would necessarily be a someday for them but just in case. "Did you finish your homework?" While yawning, OJ nodded – his little head burrowing into her side with the movement. "What about your assignment notebook? I haven't signed it yet."
"Ollie did," he told her. She never called Oliver that – neither did Roy nor Diggle, yet, somehow, OJ had decided upon the childhood nickname that only Thea, whom OJ had never met, and Laurel, whom Felicity had instinctively tried to shield OJ from (she still didn't understand that), still used.
"Of course he did," Felicity commented underneath her breath. It wasn't that she was bothered by Oliver taking an active role in OJ's life; she was just still taken aback by how willing he was to embrace and even encourage her unexplainable desire to take care of this little boy. But Oliver was great with OJ, and OJ idolized him, following him around and mimicking him. Perhaps that was really why Roy insisted upon referring to the kid as OJ. Shaking away her thoughts, Felicity refocused her attention upon the child curled up in her arms. He was wearing his pajamas. "Are you ready for bed, then? Do you want me to tuck you in?"
"Not yet," OJ answered. "I'm not sleepy." His eyes were already drooped closed. "Want to stay with you."
And Felicity couldn't hide from the truth any longer – not when it was practically gift wrapped and presented to her. She wanted OJ to stay with her, too. Curling her left arm around the slumbering boy, she pulled him just that much closer against her, setting to work with just the one, free hand – something she had become quite proficient at since OJ had come into her life. But her mind wasn't on her work... where it should have been. Instead, it was on a blonde haired, brown eyed child and the fact that, in just a few short months, she had fallen in love.
Man, was she a sucker for boys named Oliver.