A/N: Hello lovely readers! In honor of reaching 400 followers on Tumblr, I decided to post this chapter early! (And there was much rejoicing! *cue excited townspeople from Monty Python and the Holy Grail*) This is my unedited version so please forgive any mistakes, they will be corrected...and ENJOY!
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Chapter 6
This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening.
There's probably a groove in Oliver's carpet from Felicity's pacing since they got the news an hour ago. Her phone pings almost incessantly from where she tossed in on the bed, but she can't be bothered to look at it. She set up alerts for her name and Oliver's, and with that picture circulating, she already knows what she'll find if she looks.
She glances at the magazine again, tossed on the bed beside her discarded phone. She steps closer and picks it up to examine the picture yet again. They look happy, in love. Sure, it's unfortunate that this has to happen now, yet she can't resist the smile taking over her face as she traces Oliver's face in the picture.
Adoration.
It shocks her because she didn't think she would see that depth of emotion in his eyes. In the pictures he stares at her like she's his whole universe, like nothing else in the entire world matters.
Her phone blares "She's a Lady" and Felicity groans. In all of this, she completely forgot about telling her mother. In light of the photos, the nondisclosure agreement is a moot point. She drops the magazine to pick up the phone.
"Hi, Mom."
"AHHHHH! HI BABY!"
Felicity yanks the phone away from her ear. She hears her mother scream from arm's length away. She can make out the words "soulmate," "didn't tell me," and "Oliver Queen." She puts the phone on speaker and drops it back on the bed. It bounces as she flops back to land on the bed. Her mom is still talking a mile a minute and Felicity knows it's better to let her talk herself out.
She twists to the door as she hears it open, left staring sideways at her soulmate. He grins and nods to the phone that still spouts her mother's excited voice. He raises an eyebrow and looks at the phone.
Mom, she mouths, cautious about his reaction to the whirlwind that is her mom.
He chuckles and leans down to press a chaste kiss to her lips. "I see where you get it from," he whispers a hair's breadth away. Louder, he says, "It's nice to hear from you, Mrs. Smoak. Felicity's told me so much about you."
Her mother's voice comes to a shrill halt, leaving them in stunning silence. Felicity stares at Oliver, mouth open in awe. She wouldn't have thought it possible: her mother, silent. That settles it, Oliver is a miracle worker.
Donna Smoak, ever the effervescent, can't-bring-her-down type, starts talking a millisecond later. "Oliver Queen, I presume?"
"The one and only." Oliver winks at Felicity. His devil-may-care grin does delicious things to her insides as he's still only inches away from her face. He hovers over her, arms braces as if he's about to do a push-up. It puts her in mind of other things she wouldn't mind doing right at this moment.
"Felicity! Why didn't you tell me he was there?" If her mother was here, she would have smacked Felicity in the arm and turned a glamorous smile on Oliver. At least that's something to be thankful for.
"He just walked in, Mom," She responds with her own smile, the words more breathy than she wanted them to be.
"Well, it is fantastic to finally meet my Lissy's other half. Of course, if you had told me before hand, I could have been there to meet you in person instead of being stuck in airport security right." Then, to someone next to her: "Sorry, I'm just talking to my daughter. She found her soulmate!"
Felicity groans. Of course, her mom would tell everyone who would listen that her baby found her soulmate.
"Oh, honey, Bob says congratulations! Isn't he just the sweetest? You know, they have some of the nicest people in airport security. I don't know what everyone's always complaining about."
"Airport? Mom, why are you at the airport?" Felicity demands as she rolls for the phone. Oliver quickly moves out of the way to fall down next to her on the bed. She lifts the phone up so she can be closer.
"I'm coming to visit you, of course, baby! We're going to celebrate you getting your happily ever after!" She squeals into the phone as Felicity lowers her head to the comforter with another groan.
She cannot deal with her mother on top of everything else. The last thing she needs is her mother posing for the press in a tight dress. And she can't even begin to image putting Moira and her mother in the same room together: Moira, the Queen of all things serious (pun intended), and Donna, the Queen of frivolity and emotions. Oh, will that be a conversation to see, or not. She's not sure she wanted to be anywhere near that meeting when it actually did happen.
"What? You're coming to Starling? Now? When do you land?" She demands, her mind whirls as she tries to figure out how picking her mother up from the airport fits between getting dressed and the press conference and avoiding the paparazzi. "Where are you staying? Did you plan this out at all?"
"Calm down, sweetie! You always worry too much! I was thinking I could stay with you. You've got that guest bedroom, and I brought my earplugs so you don't have to worry about me hearing anything unsavory."
"Mooooom," she moans into the blanket.
"Please, honey! With a soulmate who looks like that it would be a crime not to be having sex. I mean, have you seen the man?"
Oliver laughs softly next to her and she glares him into silence. Or rather, she tries to, but Oliver just smiles wider. "Thank you, Mrs. Smoak."
"Please, honey, call me Donna. We're practically family!"
"Mom-"
"Oh! Sorry, Felicity, honey! I have to hang up. I'll call you when I get in! Kisses!" She makes a kissy noise into the phone and then the line clicks dead.
Felicity wishes she had a wall to bang her head against, or maybe a desk, anything that could make this whole situation just a little less crazy. First the reporters, then a press conference, and now this. "Could this day get any worse?"
Oliver laughs and she feels the bed shift as he moves. He presses a kiss to the exposed skin where her neck meets her shoulder. "It's not going to be that bad."
"You only say that because your closet is right there. My apartment with all my clothes and make-up, and basically everything it takes to make me look," she gestures feebly, "beautiful is protected by a horde of reporters out to sell my picture for a quick buck."
"You always look beautiful," he whispers into her skin.
"You have to say that."
"It's true. You. Are. Breathtaking."
She squeals as he flips her over so she's facing him again, and he cuts her off with kiss to her lips. It starts off teasing, chaste and turns into more. She doesn't realize how compromising their position is until his body starts pressing into hers in a decidedly more than friendly way. She gasps at the contact, opening her eyes to stare up into his blue ones as he watches her.
"I'm never going to get tired of doing that," he tells her, leaning down for another quick kiss. "But right now my mom and Thea are downstairs with a stylist and probably a publicist to prep you."
Felicity's face scrunches in distaste. "A publicist?"
"Knowing my mom, she probably wants to coach you on what to say."
"You mean so I don't babble in front of the press. Oh god," horror fills her as she imagines making some embarrassing innuendo in front of a dozen cameras, "what if I accidentally make an innuendo? Or say something equally embarrassing? Oh, no. I can't do this. I can't do this, Oliver. I'll just go hide in a corner or something. Really. It's okay."
He chuckles into her ear and kisses the edge of her jaw. "Don't worry about it. I'll do all the talking. You can just stand there and try to ignore the invasive questions and flashing camera lights."
"Oh no! No! Let's get one thing straight, Oliver Queen: I am not, nor will I ever be, someone's arm candy! I can talk for myself, and I refuse to let everyone think I am just a blonde bimbo."
He pulls back, face serious. "No one who met you, Felicity, would ever think you're anything less than a genius. And if anyone says differently, I'll set them straight."
She smiles. It was the perfect thing to say. "Is that so?"
"Yes. They have to know who's the smart one in this relationship." He leans down for another kiss.
"Enough dawdling, you two! Felicity needs to get ready for the press conference! Oh! Ew! Next time put a sock on the door or something!" Thea shouts after bursting through the door.
Felicity pulls away from Oliver to see Thea shielding her eyes with her hands.
"Maybe you should start knocking, Speedy," Oliver responds dryly, but he stands and offers her a helping hand.
Thea doesn't deign to respond. "Come on, Felicity! I've got the perfect dress for you!"
Oliver yanks Felicity to her feet, using the same momentum to pull her in close for a kiss. "Go. Have fun. I'll get Digg to pick up your mom from the airport."
"Thank you," she whispers back. She has to rise on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. With a sigh, she drops back onto her heels. "I guess I have to go get ready for a press conference."
Why does it feel like she's walking into a trap?
...
"Mom, is it really necessary for us to be at the press conference?" Oliver asks as he follows her into his father's old office. "The PR department can take care of the explanation and Felicity and I could go to a gala or something for our first public appearance."
She pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes closed in exasperation. "Our head of PR, Rachel, thinks it would be fine without you. She said the manner of the exposé, the candid pictures where you're obviously in love, were perfect for just a statement. I want the two of you there to present a united front. We are a family and we need to look like one."
"And you honestly think putting Felicity and me on a stage is going to...what? help? Put on a show? Why do you need us there, Mom?"
"Why are you trying to get out of it?"
He frowns at his mother. "Neither Felicity nor I are dolls you can bring out when you need us to make a pretty picture."
"And I'm not asking you to, Oliver. I'm asking you to be there to present a united front for our investors. This is good for the company's image."
Oliver steps closer and taps a finger against the wood of the desktop. He'd come up with the idea shortly after he came downstairs to find Felicity looking like a lost puppy as Thea and another woman – the publicist probably – spoke at her a mile a minute.
"How about Rachel makes her statement, and you say how happy you are for us. Felicity and I can go pick her mom up from the airport instead."
"Oliver..." The warning tone in her voice is reminiscent of his early childhood when he would constantly be in trouble for one thing or another.
"Mom...Felicity doesn't want to do this. I don't want to do this." He pushed his luck. There's something about this press conference she's not telling him. He wants her to break, to confess her plan, to tell him what's going on. "What is so important about this press conference?"
Moira actually looks nervous as she stares down at her hands. She avoids eye contact for a minute, that's all the time she allows herself before reaching into one of the desk drawers and pulling out a small box. She places the blue box between them like a hat thrown in the ring.
He doesn't have to open it to guess what's inside. "Walter asked you to marry him."
"And I said yes." She waits for a verdict from Oliver, uncharacteristically searches for approval from her son.
Oliver raises an eyebrow. "Then why aren't you wearing the ring, Mom?"
Her hand falls on top of the box. "I wasn't sure how you would take it."
He walks around the desk and pulls her into his arms. "I'm happy for you, Mom. For both of you. I..."
Oliver doesn't know how to say what he wants to. It's long overdue, this conversation. "I was confused at first, not because you were in a relationship with someone new, but because you were in a relationship with your soulmate and I thought Dad was your soulmate. I'm happy for you, that you found this happiness now. But why did you marry Dad back then if he wasn't your soulmate?"
"It was a political marriage, Oliver. It's the reason we didn't make your mark public record. Raisa filled your head with stories of romance growing up, and I never wanted to burst that bubble." She moves over to the couch. Oliver follows, sitting beside her.
"So that's why Dad kept encouraging me to stay with Laurel." Pieces of his life are starting to fall into place and he recalls a conversation he had with Slade back on that Island. He wonders how much Laurel knew about the plan, if she was okay with the scheme.
Moira nods. "Your father...he thought she was the best option for you: smart, classy, well-educated. I wanted to at least try to find your soulmate. I did love your father, in my own way. But when I met Walter...it was something completely different."
Oliver smiles. He knows what she's talking about. He felt the difference as soon as he met Felicity, that special something that drew him to her. If his mom felt even a fraction of that with Walter, he can't fault her for moving on. He's amazed it took her this long. With Felicity, he only lasted a couple months before he had to admit he wanted more.
"I'm happy you found your soulmate, Oliver. I really am." She squeezes his hand.
Oliver sighs, a chuckle escapes. "Well, technically, Thea found her."
"Regardless, I've never seen you so happy. Even when you were just pretending to date."
His head jerks up. She shouldn't know that. Then again, he can't say he's at all surprised that she does know. She was always knows. Oliver looks at the ceiling. His masterplan to get out of the press conference, it won't work. His mother is going to stand in front of a crowd and essentially air the family secret that Robert Queen wasn't her soulmate. She needs his support.
"Alright, Mom." He lets out a breath of air. "We'll be there. Just to be clear, neither of us is speaking. But both Felicity and I...we'll be there to show our support."
"Thank you, Oliver." It's not often he sees true gratitude in his mother's eyes.
He nods to the ring. "You should put the ring on, Mom."
A smile lights up her face at the idea. Slowly, reverently, she slips the ring from the case and onto her finger. It's not the intricate, elaborate ring she wore when she was married to his father. It's simple, elegant, and completely her style. Satisfied with how it sits on her finger, she lowers her hand and grabs Oliver's again.
"I know it's early, Oliver, but Walter and I are sick of waiting. And I was wondering if, when the time came, you would be the one to walk me down the aisle."
He laughs, tugging her into a warm hug. "I would be honored."
"What's going on here?" Thea demands.
Oliver pulls away from his mother. Felicity and Thea are both framed in the door watching them curiously. He glances back at her.
Thea screams when she sees the ring. She throws her arms around both Moira and Oliver. Over Thea, Oliver sees Felicity smiling at them. He extricates himself from the hug and walks over to her. Unable to resist, he presses a kiss to her cheek.
"So we're really doing this?" Felicity asks.
Oliver nods. "To support my mom and Walter."
"Good, because I don't think I could talk to the press. I could barely talk to the publicist and fRachel was actually really sweet. I'm not someone you want to put in front of a ton of cameras."
He chuckles and wraps his arm around her to tuck her into his side. "Don't worry. We'll both just be there to paint a pretty picture."
She turns into his shoulder to conceal the fact that she's shaking with laughter. He feels all warm and fuzzy inside. And he doesn't want this to change.
...
"Oh! Honey, you look gorgeous! I told you red was a beautiful color on you!"
Felicity resists the impulse to roll her eyes as her mother fixes her hair. She hasn't been here five minutes and already her mother's found something to critique. She catches Diggle's eye and the man has the nerve to smirk at her. Well, she guesses she can't blame him: he did spend the last hour with her mother. This is probably great payback from his point of view.
"I'm glad you came, Mom." She squeezes her hand. If her smile looks a little forced, that's because it is.
Her mom tends to get a little...overzealous about most things. And here she is about to introduce her mother to the classy, almighty Queens. She prays to God her mother doesn't go on one of her "bag a billionaire" rants. Her mom lacked her verbal with the added benefit of no shame.
She was lucky enough to shake Oliver long enough to meet her mother in person. The squealing alone when her mom first saw her was enough to make a person go deaf. She couldn't hear through her right ear. Honest to goodness.
The last thing Felicity wants to do is walk her mother through the door and into the large family dinner Raisa threw together to celebrate Moira and Walter's engagement. Plus, Moira insisted Donna stay in the mansion. She obviously had no idea what she was getting into. Felicity half expects the entire night to go up in flames.
Maybe even literally.
"So...when do I get to meet your hunk of a soulmate?" She smiles hopefully as her hands clap together in barely contained excitement.
Felicity winces at Digg's amused chuckle. "His name is Oliver, Mom. And we're actually going to have dinner with him and his family."
Her mother stares expectantly, eyes dart every so often to the looming mansion.
Felicity grimaces as she realizes she can't stall forever, especially not standing in front of the formidable house. Besides, Oliver will burst out the doors any minute to find her. This meeting is going to happen. There's no avoiding it, regardless of what she wishes.
She takes a deep breath and turns to face the main door. She wrings her hands, her teeth dig nervously into her bottom lip. She reaches for the doorknob only to have it yanked open by an overeager Thea.
"Hi! You must be Felicity's mom! It's so great to meet you!" Thea wraps her mom in a hug, and Felicity can't help but think that they're too similar.
"Call me Donna."
"Oh, I'm Thea! And this is Roy," Thea yanks the boy in the red hoodie forward, "my soulmate."
"It's nice to meet you, Roy! Aren't you just precious?"
Felicity closes her eyes against the image, but even that can't erase her mother pinching Roy's cheeks. She feels a large, familiar hand on her back and she leans into it. At least her mother hit it off with someone. Roy will probably avoid her for the next couple months.
"And this must be Oliver."
Her eyes fly open to the flirtatious look her mother gives the man behind her. She groans at her mother's lack of propriety. Her head falls back and comes into contact a well-muscled chest.
"I am. It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Donna." The charming bastard then kisses her knuckles.
She can practically see her mother swoon.
"Well, aren't you the sweetest!"
Felicity sighs. It's going to be a long night. She thought he managed to keep her emotions under wraps, but Oliver's questioning look as they follow her mother and Thea inside make her think she isn't that successful. She rolls her eyes as her mom starts gushing about how beautiful the mansion looks.
"Calm down, Felicity. She's doing fine," Oliver whispers in her ear.
That's easy for him to say. It's not his mother about to make a fool of herself. She doesn't think it's possible for Moira to embarrass herself. Her mother on the other hand...
Is it too early to start the wine?
Oliver's warm chuckle echoes in her ear. "Let's save the wine for dinner."
...
"So you're a cocktail waitress?"
Oliver sends his mother a sharp look.
"Yup," Donna responds brightly. "Worked there to make sure my baby girl got everything she needed." The smile she directs at Felicity is full of an unbelievable amount of love. "Even helped pay for college a bit."
Moira purses her lips in a strained smile. "Oh?"
"Of course, my baby wouldn't settle for anything less than the best school." She laughs brightly and Felicity smiles nervously back. "And she's really the amazing one. She worked her butt off to get her Masters in four years all while working part time. She truly is amazing."
"I don't understand much of the tech talk myself, but our Director of Applied Science has nothing but praise for her."
"Well, I've seen her work and it's nothing short of awe-inspiring." Oliver grabs her hand on top of the table. Because it's true. In the past few months, he's seen her dig up dirt on each of the hundreds of names on his father's list. She'd made connections he hadn't thought to look for.
She shakes her head at him, but she's pleased. He can tell by her smile, the way she squeezes his hand, the crinkle in the corners of her eyes. His thumb draws circles into the back of her hand, his fingers dancing along the inside of her wrist, over her pulse point. He can't seem to stop touching her.
He must drift off into his own little world because when Felicity squeezes his hand he realizes he's been staring at her face. Oliver coughs and returns his attention to the rest of the table to find smirks on every face, all eyes purposefully averted.
The topic changes abruptly and Oliver's forced to drop Felicity's hand so they can eat. The rest of the meal proceeds smoothly, more or less, with Moira and Donna finding a tentative middle ground although it's clear the two will never be best friends.
Halfway through dessert, the topic of conversation switches to the poverty and destitution of the Glades.
"The whole area is just gangs and violence. Anyone with any money and good sense would get out while they could," Moira asserts.
Oliver pauses with a spoon halfway to his lips, and sends a glance to Roy. Felicity's fork pauses halfway to her mouth. He waits for the angry, indignant report he's sure will come from one of them. Instead, it comes from a rather surprising source: Donna.
"Sometimes money and good sense aren't enough. After my husband left, I worked two jobs just to cover rent, school, and my deadbeat husband's debts. We couldn't afford a place in a nice neighborhood, but I made sure my daughter knew how to take care of herself. Most of those people are just doing what they can to survive in a world that likes to kick them down. For some people, just living until tomorrow is all they care about. I'm sure there are a couple people at this table who could tell you about that." Her astute blue eyes meet Oliver's.
Yeah, Felicity gets a lot from her mom, which includes a strong backbone and a fierce defense of people in need.
"Surviving on a deserted island is hardly comparable to living in the slums."
"You're right, Mom. At least on the island, there were only a handful of people who could kill me," Oliver inputs. He takes another bite of steak, willfully ignorant of the response his statement elicits.
Felicity squeezes his forearm in sympathy, but continues to sip her wine. Everyone else – Moira, Walter, Thea, Roy – is frozen in shock.
"Exactly!" Donna crows. She points triumphantly at Oliver with her fork, the chocolate cake still rests on top. "Although I bet there were worse dangers there too."
Oliver's lips twitch in the resemblance of a smile. "Yeah, but I've found the most dangerous thing is human nature."
Donna nods sagely at his words. "I've always thought so. But back to happier topics: Did you know Felicity's first word was 'hit'? In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have left her at the blackjack table for quite so long."
Thea laughs. "Really?"
Next to him, Felicity groans something that sounds like "Mom."
Oliver grins and leans forward, eager to hear more stories about her childhood. This dinner has just made a turn from awkward to fantastic.
...
"I don't know why you felt the need to drag me to the store with you. You know I don't like your techie do-dads. Oooh! What does this one do?" Donna picks up a webcam and turns it around like it's a fascinating contraption. It would be far more impressive if she wasn't waving it around in circles like a magic wand.
"Would you have preferred to stay at the mansion with Moira?" Oliver's walking Digg and Lyla through their underground operation, which leaves her the babysitting capacity. It's a nice change, not to have a bodyguard trailing her every move.
She watches her mother's face scrunch, and Donna returns the webcam to the shelf. "Moira is a perfectly nice woman who loves her family very much. And she now considers you to be part of her family."
"You don't have to do that, Mom."
"Do what?" Donna glances back at her daughter from the display of phone cases, her hand lingers over a completely bedazzled one.
"Be so nice all the time," Felicity explains. She contemplates a baby monitor, wondering if she can repurpose the parts.
"Life's too short to spend it as a mean old sourpuss," her mother answers crisply with her iconic bright smile.
Felicity sighs, adding a pair of walkie-talkies to her basket with the wireless router she first grabbed. She wants to tell her mother she doesn't always have to be a ball of sunshine either, but she got her temperament from her mother. She knows she's predisposed to happiness, flexible in most situations. In high school and college, she went goth in a vain attempt to subdue that urge. Yet when it came down to it, she was just like her mother in this.
It reminded her something her mother told her after her father left: "Having a big heart in a cold world, isn't weakness, sweetheart. It requires great courage, and you are nothing if not courageous."
Her mom was probably the strongest person she knew. Sure, Donna looked like a Barbie doll most of the time, and more than a few men made the mistake of treating her like one, but Donna Smoak was a force to be reckoned with. Heaven forbid you get on her bad side. Although she might not be physically strong, she could bring the highest horse down with a few well-placed words.
In that, she was very similar to Moira Queen.
Felicity gets on line for the cash register. She purposefully avoids eye contact with the group of college students who watch her from a nearby aisle. Oliver and Digg both pulled her aside this morning and explained what to do if someone asked her about Oliver, an explanation that boiled down to: don't answer questions and call Oliver.
She knows both men had been reluctant to leave her without protection, but it's been months without a single Bratva appearance. Lyla was the one who vouched for her. It felt nice to be somewhere without an armed bodyguard.
The line moves forward and Felicity follows it. Her mother's on another one of her diatribes about technology, so she's not really paying attention when a man cuts in front of them. She frowns, awareness spiking because he's facing her and not the line.
"Привет дорогой."
Felicity jumps in surprise. She spins to face the deep voice behind her, more aware than ever of her vulnerability. The man isn't what she would call physically imposing, not like his colleague who blocked the line. He's shorter than her in her heels and his belly protrudes. No, it's the eyes, cold and dead, that unsettle Felicity.
"Sorry," she smiles weakly at him, hand already on her phone, "I don't speak Russian."
He leers at her. "A pity. You're a hard woman to find, Felicity Smoak."
A shiver runs up her spine as he says her name, and not the good kind of shiver she gets around Oliver. Even her mother has the sense to shut her mouth and look around for any possible assistance. But the mountain of a man who blocked their path is scary enough to ward off well-intentioned bystanders.
She shrugs, and tries not to look at her phone as she dials Oliver.
"Where is your родственная душа?" He asks gruffly. "We'd like to talk to him."
Donna frowns, but Felicity just pulls out her phone and lifts it to her ear, like they don't bother her at all.
"Oliver?"
"I'm on my way," he growls from the other end.
She smiles lightly at the man as he holds out his hand for the phone. She knows what this is. He's made his point. He waited until she was unprotected, when she thought she was safe, and he struck. It's a lesson to her and to Oliver. She's completely at his mercy right now.
Donna's hand reaches out and latches onto Felicity's arm, nails biting slightly into the pale flesh as the man starts talking in brusque Russian. Neither of them need to speak Russian to get the gist of his malevolent tone.
The man ends the call and holds it out to Felicity with a smile that she's sure is meant to be just as unsettling as the Russian threats.
"Dimitri," the man says, "why don't you escort Miss Smoak and her lovely companion to the cashier. We wouldn't want them to be accosted by the wrong people."
Felicity straightens, a beatific smile despite her fear of the hulking figures. She didn't think she had it in her, but the words slip out almost naturally. "That's very kind of you...Sorry, I didn't catch your name..."
His eyes bore into her, cold and calculating. "You may call me Peter."
"Thank you, Peter, for looking out for my safety." She can feel the pull of her soulmate bond as Oliver approaches the building without looking through the store doors. "But that won't be necessary."
Oliver's hand comes to rest on her back, but Peter doesn't break eye contact. Felicity holds his gaze until he gives her a gruff nod of approval.
He chuckles as his glance shifts momentarily to Oliver. "She has fire in her, your родственная душа."
Oliver's hands drift to her mark, fingers dig into the skin as he faces the man. "держаться подальше от нее," he growls and Felicity can feel it vibrate through her chest.
Peter smirks and walks away without another word, suitably intimidating and scary for a Russian mob boss, if you asked Felicity. Once the men walk out the door, she collapses into Oliver, going limp after the front she had put on.
Oliver turns her in his arms to wrap her completely in his embrace as he presses a warm kiss to her forehead. "Are you okay?"
A shaky breath escapes her in almost a sob. She nods into his chest, curling into him.
He pulls back just far enough that he can look her up and down, checking for any physical damage. A hand comes up to cup her cheek. Worry radiates off him, centered in his story blue eyes.
Felicity leans into his touch as it relaxes her, draws her into the comfort of his presence. She's safe and secure now in his arms. "I'm okay, Oliver. Really."
Oliver nods in understanding at the words but pulls her in closer as if only more contact will convince him of the veracity of her statement.
"Felicity, what is going on?"
Her mom's voice draws her back to the physical realm of existence that expands beyond the comforting scent of everything that's Oliver. She pulls back from Oliver's chest to look at her mother. Her head comes to rest on his chest as she stares at her, unable to resist the comfort of Oliver's embrace.
"It's a long story," Oliver fills in, squeezing her as his hand continues to caress her mark through her clothes.
Donna purses her lips, eyes scanning them. She debates for a moment before her eyes dart to the entrance. "So, is this why you need a bodyguard?"
Felicity pulls away from Oliver to glance at the new arrival – John Diggle – as Oliver responds evenly: "The Queen family has many enemies."
"That puts my daughter in danger?" Donna doesn't sound incredibly impressed or even happy with that fact.
Felicity steps away from him to face her mother. "Mom..."
"No! Baby girl, if you're in danger, I think I need to know."
"Don't worry, Smo- Donna," Oliver corrects at her strict look. "Felicity's safety is my top priority. Mr. Diggle's wife, Lyla would have been here, but she had an appointment."
"Mr. Diggle's wife?"
"Lyla," Felicity fills in. She faces her mother. "She's been acting as my bodyguard. She's also pregnant," she adds as an afterthought.
"His pregnant wife is your bodyguard?"
"She's ten times scarier than I am," Diggle inputs, a smug smile on his face.
Donna looks skeptical as she eyes his huge arms.
"Felicity, Digg's going to take you back to the mansion and he's going to stay there with you. Both of you."
She wants to argue, purely on principle: Oliver can't order her around all the time. Yet after meeting Peter, after feeling that scared, that vulnerable, she's willing to make this concession.
"Oliver, you can't just keep me locked in a tower."
He grimaces at the idea, which makes her think he would actually try to do it. Then he nods. "I know, but I want to check your apartment first, make sure it's secure," he whispers, focused on her and not what people could overhear, not worried her mother might as why a former playboy would need to clear her apartment.
Felicity nods. "Okay. I just need to buy those." She points at the basket that she doesn't remember handing to her mother, but the crate hanging off her arm suggests otherwise.
"Felicity," his voice is pained, a plea for her to listen to him, to accept his help now, without question.
She sighs and squeezes his arm in acknowledgement. "Fine, but you have to take them to the-"
"Thank you," he whispers to cut her off before she can finish the sentence when he already knows how it's going to end.
"And come home soon?" she pleads. As much as he doesn't want her out of his sight, she doesn't want him away from her for too long either.
"As soon as I clear your apartment and check in on the next two names."
She frowns in disapproval at the last part. Regardless of what they've been doing to prep for a take-down of the men on his father's list, now is not the time. With the Russian mob back in play, he doesn't need to take the time to visit the next two men from the list. She already had the relevant information from her computer search. Live observation really wasn't necessary, but Oliver insisted on it for every name, just as a precaution, to make sure their connections were accurate and based in face instead of a mislaid electronic trail.
For policy, it was great; for her sanity, not so much.
"Be careful," she whispers before she rises on tiptoes and presses her lips to his.
"Always," he responds as he pulls her closer and kisses her soundly.
When they break apart, Oliver relinquishes her into John's custody rather reluctantly. Felicity steals one last glance over her shoulder through the automatic doors sliding shut and she catches Oliver standing there with that small smile that does something to her insides.
She loves that man.
...
Felicity's apartment is a little bit of a mess, Oliver reflects as he searches for the evasive little bugs that clandestine agents like to place in their prey's habitudes. Of course, he couldn't tell between her little bits of tech and any planted bugs. The bug sweeper didn't pick up anything definitive by her desk though, so he thinks she's safe.
There are no Bratva-style messages in her apartment either, which is a comfort to him. Even though Oliver's well aware that cornering Felicity while she was out shopping was just as effective as any message they could have left, in not more. He still can't suppress a shudder at what could have happened today should the men have mean her actual harm.
Oliver sends a quick update to John as he leaves Felicity's humble abode. He gets a response from Felicity as he swings a leg over his bike, another plea to be safe tonight since he's without back-up.
Oliver's heart swells with love as he promises to do the best he can before speeding off to the Foundry to collect his suit. He'd contemplated not bothering to change, but in deference to his soulmate, he decided to maintain as many safety measures as possible.
The Foundry feels empty without Felicity's comfortable presence by her computer station. As much as her participating in this endeavor worries him, he's surprised how her absence is even more disconcerting. He feels it like a shadow over the whole operation, one he would do anything never to see again.
He pulls the green leather on and boards his secondary bike with ease, double-checking all his equipment in Felicity's absence. It feels good – soothing – to participate in this bit of routine. It alleviates some of his unease in leaving Felicity without his protection. Sure, he trusts Digg to watch her, but the only time he's assured of her safety is when she's wrapped in his arms.
Oliver sighs, yanking the helmet onto his head. He's in love with his soulmate already.
For once, all he wants to do is get home to Felicity, not worry about this extensive list.
But he has a quota to meet: visiting two names on the list just for some personal recon.
The first is the Queen Consolidated Head of Security, a truly disconcerting notion, but the man seems pretty comfortable in his home, a home he can't afford on just a Queen Consolidated salary judging from the looks of it. He wonders what a family man was thinking to get involved in shady business with two kids under 13 and a beautiful wife.
It complicates things for him. Felicity found the proof of his misdeeds, but the man he's spying on gives the appearance of happiness and smiles. He doesn't seem to be involved in anything nefarious.
But looks can be deceiving.
Verifying in person the regularity of the man's routine, Oliver turns back to his bike. One more person to check out before he can head home.
He's turning the keys in the ignition when he feels a prick to the back of his neck. His hand pulls a dart from the spot. He has just enough time to recognize it as a tranquilizer before he falls to the side, unconscious.