This chapter is rated "M" (barely). Warnings for excessive fluff, good wine used to buy forgiveness, and blatant disregard for doctors' orders. Also, fluff.
This is date #12. Any conversation you wish they had had by this point, let's just say they happened in dates 4-11. ;-)
Of Redemption and Inebriation:
Date 12: Australian Shiraz
June 24, 2016
It was inevitable really. Felicity had expected it. And, in the long run, what was a short period of loss of consciousness in the battle to keep Star City's streets clean. Team Arrow was down to two (well, an occasional three with Curtis, but still, shorthanded) and that meant she had to be in field more often.
Felicity enjoyed it, really. It was kinda fun to be out there and not because she'd been kidnapped or cornered…well, she sort of had been cornered, hence the teeny tiny absolutely minuscule concussion. Her head didn't even hurt. She was fine.
Oliver…well, he was a little less fine. Not that he was hurt. He wasn't. Not a scratch on him. But he was a little freaked out. If they'd had a way to contact Digg, Felicity was afraid the poor man would have gotten an irrational rant about abandoning the team and necessitating Felicity being in the line of fire.
But it was irrational and Felicity felt confident that Oliver had realized that by now. Hopefully. He had insisted that she stay home and "take it easy" after being discharged from the ER at 4am and, while she felt perfectly fine, the look on his face told her that it was best to indulge him.
It was the first time she had been in the line of fire since they'd gotten back together, since Darhk was killed actually. If she thought about it, it was the first time one of them had been seriously injured since Laurel…
And while Felicity hadn't been seriously injured, she could only imagine what it must have been like for Oliver to find her unconscious on the cold concrete.
So Felicity sat in her (hopefully, soon, their) living room in the Loft, blatantly ignoring all the doctors' orders stating no electronics and…well, pretty much all the doctors' orders. Because she was actually, truly fine.
Thankfully, Oliver had supplied the entertainment for the day. Which was ever so kind of him, even if it was unintentional. As Felicity was certain it was.
She rewound the news clip for the fifth time that day and settled back onto the couch, a bowl of popcorn at her hip. Felicity wondered how many times she could watch it before it got old. She might just have to find out.
The press had cornered Oliver outside of City Hall. They'd all gotten wind of Felicity's "attack" as they called it (it was actually Felicity getting caught smack dab in the middle of a vigilante run drug-bust. The vigilante in this scenario being her), and not knowing the details, the press speculated wildly as was their want.
But whatever the press (and Felicity used that word loosely in these people's case) fantasized happened, they were much more interested in using this opportunity to corner their new Interim Mayor and demand details about his scandalous love life (it really hadn't been anything resembling scandalous in years).
Add the fact that someone had gotten photos of Oliver driving Felicity home after her discharge from the ER and…voila, Paparazzi field day.
Most of the questions that were shouted at Oliver as he left City Hall were insulting, some downright nauseating, but Felicity tried not to listen to them as she watched Oliver expertly move through the group that very closely resembled a pack of wild dogs.
At first, he was doing an excellent job of ignoring them. Oliver had one hand up in a clear sign of "not now" and his eyes were focused very determinedly away.
But then someone yelled something that sounded like a derogatory comment about Felicity being his one-time secretary (they were really scraping the bottom of the barrel if they were going with that one) and the word gold-digger was even thrown out, which was absurd given the state of Oliver's bank account. But absurd or not, that was what finally broke him.
The reporter got what he wanted, because Oliver stopped, fixed the man with a stare that should have had him shaking in his inexpensive boots, and turned to the crowd.
When Oliver put his hand up this time, everyone quieted, and that mastery of the crowd gave Felicity a little thrill deep in her chest. And, maybe, deep in her pelvis too.
"I'm going to address this now and then I'm done," Oliver announced in his hard-edged Mayor Voice. Felicity loved that voice. It was starting to rival the Green Arrow Voice. She drew her knees to her chest and hugged them in anticipation.
"Yes, Felicity Smoak was my Executive Assistant for the year that I served as CEO for Queen Consolidated. Before that she was my friend." Oliver stopped to fix his steely glare on the man who dared snigger at that.
"My friend," Oliver repeated in a growl. "She agreed to take what she considered a demotion and for a woman with two masters from MIT was, in order to be my Executive Assistant because she was the only person I trusted to help me run the company. Any and all other speculation as to why we worked together, or what our relationship was at that time ranges from the asinine to the frankly insane and I will not even consider addressing it further."
Oliver paused for a breath and the reporters seemed to take that as a cue to start yelling more questions out. But his eyes flashed and they quieted. Felicity hummed to herself, wiggling her toes. It got better. So much better.
"You all know that Ms. Smoak and I were engaged last December. Some of you were even there. You also know that that engagement ended in early spring. The only thing I will say on the subject is that, while I take full responsibility for the break-up, I did not, would not, and will never cheat on Felicity."
While Felicity knew this, the vehemence that Oliver said it was…something three steps beyond gratifying. The way he looked shocked and appalled by the very idea. The way the crowd was silent. As if they were terrified to contradict him, even though they had multiple instances of his past infidelities to throw in his face. It was all quite wonderful.
Then Oliver announced, "I am lucky enough to have Felicity back in my life. We are taking it slow and, like this city, trying to rebuild. But, also like this city, the foundation is strong and my faith in the outcome equally so. Thank you. That's all I have to say."
Oliver gave a damn good speech and the first time she had seen it, Felicity had clapped. But not this time. Because it wasn't over. Oh no.
God, she loved this man.
He took approximately two steps before he stopped again, announcing. "You know what? I have one more thing to say. It's about Palmer Technology." Felicity wondered if the sneer in Oliver's voice was obvious to everyone or just to her. "When Ray Palmer took over my company, I was skeptical, but Ray was a good man with a strong vision. The best thing he ever did, however, was to turn that company…my family's company over to Felicity Smoak.
"She ran the company in a way that I know my parents, and my grandparents, would be proud of. But the people," and if Felicity thought he said Palmer Tech with a sneer, this was said with blatant disgust, "in charge now…
"Felicity Smoak was fired because she wanted to make the technology that is enabling her to walk available to anyone it may help. But because that might potentially cut into profits, she was forced out. For the first time, I'm glad my parents aren't around to see the company they put their life's blood into fall so far. Thank you for your time."
And even though she had watched it five times, enough for her to have his words memorized, Felicity clapped as he walked off camera, it made her so happy. So proud. Oliver was…Oliver was amazing.
Felicity threw herself down on the couch and stared at the ceiling, feeling not a little like a love-sick teenager. Maybe the concussion did have some after affects…like giddiness.
No, this was just them. Finding themselves in each other. Again.
She glanced at the clock. It had been almost two hours since that spot was filmed. Felicity would have thought Oliver would be home by now…well, her home. Hopefully, soon to be their home. Again. Though, he probably stopped at his home…the temporary one, to get changed and, with any luck, pick-up a change of clothes, because it was the weekend and sleepovers were permitted on the weekend.
Things were going…really really well this time around. Better than anticipated actually. Of course, Felicity had anticipated a whole lot of pain to accompany the healing, and maybe there was, but…them…Oliver and Felicity…they felt good. Strong.
And it didn't hurt at all when Oliver did things like this. Things like standing in front of the city and defending her honor. Sigh. Her knight in shining leather.
In wasn't that the first time they had gotten together it hadn't been good. It had been so much more than good. It had been like a dream. In many ways, too good to be true. A part of Felicity had always been waiting for the other shoe to drop. That part of her really hadn't been surprised when it had.
Oh, there had been times when everything was normal, when it had just felt like two people, so right for each other, sharing a life. But it felt like that so much more often now, even though they weren't sharing a home yet.
Because they weren't in Bali or Ivytown or any other idyllic spot. They were home. Where criminals caught them unawares and knocked them unconscious. Where there were disrespectful paparazzi and asshole board members. And still…imperfect had never felt so right.
The doorbell rang and Felicity smiled to herself, shaking her head. Oliver always rang the doorbell now, as if he didn't still have a key, as if she would have ever changed the locks. Why would she? The Loft had been his home first, a home she really hadn't been comfortable displacing him from, and wouldn't have if he hadn't insisted.
But Oliver also insisted that until he gave up his little month-to-month rental a block from City Hall, he was going to continue to knock. Ever so polite and respectful. If only Robert and Moira Queen could see their boy today.
Despite the aches and pains that remained from last night's little adventure, Felicity practically bounced to the door and opened it with a wide smile.
But instead of the answering grin Felicity had expected, Oliver looked…nervous. Almost…guilty? Hmm…
Felicity tipped her head to side and looked him over. "Oliver?"
She waited for his usual kiss as he stepped inside the door.
And waited.
Oliver just sort of stood there. Frozen. After a minute, he seemed to realize that he was supposed to do something and he leaned forward to press a kiss on the corner of Felicity's lips. But he still didn't come in. He just kept standing there.
"I brought you something," Oliver finally told her. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were shifty, nervous. It was a good thing he wore that hood. His eyes gave him away. Felicity just wished she knew what they were giving away this particular time.
Oliver held up his offerings and Felicity looked them over. "Red wine and mint chocolate chip ice cream." A half-gallon, not a pint. Uh huh. Interesting.
"Australian Shiraz," Oliver clarified gesturing to the wine, as if that explained everything. As if the type of wine would explain exactly what he was up to. "The sommelier at the wine store assured me that the raspberry notes would work well with the mint ice cream—"
"Oliver, is this about the press conference—?" It was the only explanation Felicity could come up with.
His eyes widened. "You saw that—"
"—because I'm not mad about…" Felicity trailed off, looking Oliver over again. If this wasn't about the press…
Shifty eyes. Nervous feet. Wine. Ice cream.
"What did you do?"
"What? Nothing."
Yeah, right. He'd never been less convincing. "Oliver, why are you still in the hallway?"
Oliver took a deep breath and seemed to steal himself. Felicity wasn't sure if she should be scared or amused. "Okay, so…" he swallowed, "this…these aren't your real gift. This is what I got you once I realized I might have…overstepped with the…other present."
Then Oliver wrinkled his nose and bit his lip, waiting for her reaction. And Felicity had, honestly, never seen him act like this before. Oh God, what did he do?
"Why did you get me a gift at all?" Felicity almost demanded, though that was not at all to the point. Maybe part of her was wondering if she even wanted to know what kind of gift required apology gifts.
Oliver shrugged in a very little boy way. "Don't boyfriends get their girlfriends presents? As part of the…courtship process?"
"I guess…" Flowers. Candy, maybe. But even then there was usually an occasion. Or something to apologize for or… "You know what…no. This is 2016 not 1816, and as nice as it would be, most guys don't just get girls gifts without a good reason."
"Felicity, you were unconscious twelve hours ago," Oliver argued as if that explained everything.
Actually, it was more like 17 hours, but whatever. "So, you got me an I'm-sorry-you-got-knocked-out-by-a-bad-guy gift?"
Oliver pressed his lips together, looking very much like he just ate some of Felicity's cooking. "In a sense."
Now, Felicity was starting to freak out. What could he have possibly gotten her that would have him acting this weird? And if it was overstepping so much, why didn't he just bring it back?
And, please, don't let it be another ring. Maybe Oliver thought that she didn't want that ring, but that, maybe, she'd want a new ring, but…they were so not back to the ring stage. If they were still at the knocking stage, how could Oliver possibly think that they were back at the ring stage?
"Just tell me," Felicity finally told him, bracing herself. Because if she speculated for ten more seconds her imagination was going to drive her insane.
Oliver winced, looked at her and then at his feet. Felicity's eyes followed his. Under his boot (he had gone home to change into casual clothing) was a leather strap and at the end of that leather strap…oh dear God, that was leash!
"A dog! You bought me a dog!"
Because sitting there, as calm and as sweet as can be, was a 30lb ball of fluff. His ears were pointed and alert. His belly bright white and his back a golden fawn color. One color just seemed to merge into the other. The dog's tongue lolled to the side as he stared at Felicity with what looked like a smile, so proud of himself for just sitting there, so well-behaved.
Then, as if on cue, the dog's head tilted to the side and he let out a small yelping noise. Not a bark. Not a whine. Nothing so undignified. It was almost a hello.
And Felicity melted.
But…
No! No, she would not melt.
This was overstepping. This was so overstepping. One did not just buy their girlfriend of three weeks a dog. Even if they did spend every day together, and used to be engaged, and were partners for five years…actually, even if they had never broken up and had been together for the entire year, buying a dog and bringing it home without discussing it first…overstepping.
"A dog, Oliver!" Felicity was very aware that her voice had taken on a hysterical edge the moment she set eyes on her gift. Now, it rose to a screech.
Oliver wrinkled his nose and he muttered, "A guard dog, actually."
"This is a guard dog!" Felicity looked over at the adorable ball of fluff and, oh dear God, he had a curly-cue tail…she was just going to die he was that cute.
"Well, he will be," Oliver defended. "He's just a baby." Felicity shot him an incredulous look, but Oliver just kept digging himself deeper. "He's going to triple in size."
"You got me a dog that's going to triple in size!" Felicity's voice went up at least two octaves with that one.
"Or quadruple," Oliver muttered under his breath, probably thinking she didn't hear, but she did. Oh, she did. "Maybe we should just come inside." Oliver didn't wait for an answer, just pressed a hasty kiss to Felicity's temple and walked around her, saying, "I'll get the ice cream in the freezer. Come, dog."
"Dog? His name is 'dog'?"
Because even with everything else, she was perhaps most disturbed by this beautiful puppy not having an actual name. This puppy who trotted inside the Loft behind Oliver without anyone holding his leash. Felicity was utterly charmed and that was not okay.
"Frank doesn't believe in naming puppies," Oliver called out from the kitchen. "He said that was the job of their forever owners."
'Forever owner'? Did Oliver Queen just use the phrase 'forever owner'? And, what was more, Felicity was pretty sure he was referring to them.
But damn that puppy was adorable. As soon as Oliver's back was turned, Felicity grabbed the leash and turned to the puppy with a smile. She crooked a figure at him, whispering, "Hey, baby."
The lovely creature happily turned and followed her to the other side of the couch where Oliver couldn't see them. Felicity sat on the floor and opened her arms. The puppy scampered up onto her lap, showering her with wet kisses. "Let's get this off you," she whispered, unhooking his leash and rubbing his fluffy, wiggly body. Had anything ever been this soft?
"You can name him anything you want," came Oliver's wheedling voice from the kitchen.
"If we keep him," Felicity yelled back, annoyed at the assumption. Though, she quickly turned and whispered into the dog's ear, "Don't worry, sweetie. We're keeping you." And, even though she felt guilty lying to Oliver after she made such a big deal about telling the truth…lord, if she let him get away with this, what was next?
"Dogs are a big deal, Oliver," she called over the coach. "A monumental, life-changing event. Not something you bring over like a box of chocolates." Scratching behind the puppy's ear, Felicity tried not to melt too much into the dark brown eyes of…he really needed a name. "What were you thinking?"
Felicity could hear the clinking of wine glasses. No doubt, Oliver thought that the wine would put her in a better mood. Then, with a sigh, he said, "I was thinking that you aren't safe here all by yourself."
Great, now he was upping the ante by being over-protective, which always brought up conflicting feelings of sympathy and irritation. It was so sweet and, yet, so annoying.
"Oliver…" This time it was Felicity who sighed. Deciding to be a grown-up and stop torturing the man, she climbed up onto the coach so that she could actually look at him and said in a more sympathetic tone, "We really should have discussed this first."
"I know."
Oliver frowned as he forced the cork-screw into the bottle. Felicity wondered if he remembered she had a concussion. The smallest, probably almost non-existent concussion. She was certain he didn't remember or he never would be letting her have wine. Win for her.
"I just…Frank, the canine guy at SCPD, mentioned months ago that a guard dog would be a good idea if you didn't want or couldn't have a body guard all the time. With everything that was going on, I just forgot about it until today."
A soft whine from little… 'Arrow' was too obvious, wasn't it? Too bad. It was a good name for a dog. Better than for a person, actually. Arrow-Pup…? No, that was lame. Well, What's-His-Name clearly wasn't happy on the floor when she was on the sofa, so Felicity patted the couch and caught him as he jumped up next to her.
"Then I was talking to him after your attack today—"
"It was a mission, Oliver. Not an attack." Felicity shook her head. He was listening to media rhetoric again. "I wasn't mugged."
"—and Frank said he bred Akitas," Oliver continued, removing the cork. Sometimes, Felicity wondered why she even bother to talk. "And that they were great guard dogs and companions. Fiercely loyal." He poured the wine.
Felicity looked down at little…Fluffernutter? He certainly looked like a Fluffernutter. Though, that would hardly put the fear of God into an actual attacker. And, plus, she was allergic to nuts.
Tequila? That would be funny and kinda meaningful and his color matched, but it didn't really roll off the tongue. 'Hey, Tequila.' 'Come here, Tequila." No. Quiver? Hmmm.
"That doesn't explain why you didn't talk to me first," Felicity argued. Never let it be said that she couldn't multitask. "We've never even discussed getting a dog. Ever."
Well, there was that one time in Ivytown, but they'd gotten distracted before it went anywhere. Probably by food. Or sex. All they did at Ivytown was eat and have sex. Good times.
Maybe Felicity could name the puppy 'Robin', for Robin Hood. But, then, people might think that it was for that vigilante kid from Gotham that hung out with that Batman guy. Oliver would hate that.
"I was going to discuss it with you. I was," Oliver insisted as he gathered the glasses. "I went over to see the dogs. Just to take a look. Ask some questions—"
"And you decided that I needed a fierce protector today? Without discussing it with me first?" This was starting to sound upsettingly like old Oliver. And, maybe, 'Robin' was an excellent name.
"You're all by yourself here, Felicity. Without even Donna. And the Bunker, you're in the Bunker alone all the time and it's insane how often someone breaks in there. Malcolm alone. A guard dog is a good idea."
Or maybe she'd name him 'Flash'. Oliver would looove that.
"Remember, the whole my life, my choice thing." Though, Felicity had to say, the idea of a grown up little Flash here, attacking Malcolm Merlyn…awfully appealing. Though, right now, all she could imagine the puppy doing was drooling on his boots. "Besides, he's not exactly fierce."
"He'll grow—"
"By the time he grows, I was hoping I wouldn't be living alone anymore," Felicity confessed. Maybe, she was starting to soften. Goddamn, the big protective idiot and his awesome cuddly gifts. "But, maybe, I should rethink—"
"No," Oliver protested, quickly enough to make her smile. It wasn't like Felicity wasn't teasing anyway. They both knew where they wanted this to lead. And it wasn't living alone for the year it would take for this dog to mature. "I mean…" Oliver grunted as he made his way over to her with the wine. "He's fiercer than he looks and—Felicity, why is he on the couch?"
Crap. Felicity narrowed her eyes at Oliver and said as sternly as she could manage (which probably wasn't very, since she had a puppy lying on her chest), "Locksley is my present and I can have him on the couch if I want to."
"Locksley, huh?"
"Yup," Felicity said defiantly. An effect that was completely ruined when Locksley licked her chin and proceeded to gaze adoringly up at Oliver.
Who, then, let out a laugh and accused, "You, little faker! Pretending you were going to send him back!"
Felicity glowered at Oliver, even as she hugged Locksley to her. "You brought me the most adorable creature on the planet. What am I supposed to do?"
Grinning like the fool he was, Oliver wisely stayed quiet (and yes, she was aware that she just contradicted herself) and handed Felicity a glass of his wine of atonement.
She took it, because good wine was good wine. And there was the added benefit of how upset Oliver was going to be when he remembered Felicity had been diagnosed with a concussion this morning and he not only let her drink, but gave it to her.
"You still should have talked to me first," Felicity grumbled. She was beating that dead horse as long as she could. She had a limited window to get Oliver to understand she was not okay with his methods, before the positive outcome washed away all the guilt. "You can't just keep bringing home strays—"
"He's not a stray," Oliver protested, sounding genuinely insulted on Locksley's behalf. "He's a pure-bred Japanese Akita, bred to protect Japanese Royalty and take down bears—"
"That's not the—Bears, Oliver?"
"It seemed like a useful talent. All things considered."
All things considered, it just might be. Felicity closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. And a sip of wine. It was delicious. Of course, it was delicious. The man knew his wine.
"Bears aside, what are you going to bring home next? A child?"
Oliver gave her a look. One that said he would be rolling his eyes if he wasn't above it (which he wasn't b.t.w.). "That's ridiculous, Felicity."
"Is it?" she asked sweetly, the wine already warming her. "Some adorable blond orphan shows up on the street and bats her baby blues at you…?" It might sound ridiculous, but Felicity could see just such a scenario.
"I would bring her directly to Child Services…actually, I would consult Overwatch over the comms and then take her…or him directly to Child Services." It was a good answer and Oliver knew it. He blinked innocently at her, looking oh-so-repentant. "Okay?"
"I suppose…" A small smile broke free and Felicity wasn't sure she was going to be able to get rid of it any time soon. Between the wine and the dog, the promise of ice cream and an Oliver set on turning her to mush…
Then he grinned, dimples and all. As if she hadn't already lost. Locksley was pretty impressed too, if one judged by the way he licked Oliver's chin. The affection surprised Oliver, making him scrunch up his face and Felicity laughed.
"Seriously though," Oliver said, ignoring the puppy and reaching out to take Felicity's hand. "I promise no more animals without discussing it with you first. Not even a fish."
"Oh, no fish," Felicity broke in. Better to get that one settled right there and then. "I kill fish." Accidently, of course.
Oliver chuckled. "Okay. No fish. But, really, this was a special case. After last night…" Here came the look that melted her like butter. "The idea of you sleeping alone…"
Well, Felicity certainly hadn't planned on sleeping alone tonight. Or tomorrow night for that matter. That was why Oliver was supposed to bring an overnight bag.
"Oliver, look at this guy," Felicity set down the wine and lifted Locksley up over her head, which she did easily, by the way. Then, as if to prove her point, the puppy cuddled into her and laid his head on her shoulder. He was so fricken sweet. "Sure, he'll keep me company, but I fail to see how he's going to protect me over the next few months while we're living apart."
Though, Felicity was really thinking along the lines of weeks. Weeks was plenty slow enough, wasn't it?
Oliver look a long swallow of his wine, almost draining it. "Okay, if you want me to be completely honest…?"
"Please." Felicity should have known there was more to this story.
"I stopped by Frank's today with the intention of looking at adult, fully trained guard dogs. Just for research. I even planned to bring you there tomorrow if there was anything worthwhile." Oliver finished the wine with a long swallow.
All right, now Felicity was getting nervous. She took a gulp of her own wine. "And…?" she prompted when he didn't keep going.
"Well, Frank explained that Akita's weren't like German Shepards that can be trained to obey anyone's commands. Akita's are very independent, but very loyal to their families. When raised from puppies they'll protect them with their lives."
Felicity looked into Locksley's deep brown eyes and gave him a kiss on the nose. He was clearly the perfect dog for them. "This still doesn't explain why you didn't talk to me about it tonight and bring me by tomorrow. Because even if I was skeptical of the idea, I would have heard you out. You have to know that."
"It wasn't that. It was…okay…" Oliver went to drink more wine, realized the glass was empty and set it on the table behind them. Oh dear lord, he was blushing. "This little guy, he was just following me around and looking at me with those big brown eyes…and now that I'm saying this out loud it sounds a lot like what you accused me of with the orphan…"
Oliver let out a frustrated noise and focused on Locksley, who was in heaven with the way his ear was being scratched. "He just felt like our dog," Oliver muttered, guilty and almost sad, "like it was meant to be."
Felicity had to press her lips together and close her eyes to control herself. She was on overload. The cuteness alone.
"I couldn't leave him there, Felicity. I just couldn't." And the two of them looked at her with identical expressions, proving just how on-point she was when she referred to this look as Oliver's 'puppy-dog' look. She had the evidence right here.
Grabbing the nearest pillow, Felicity smacked Oliver on the shoulder. "You big marshmallow." She didn't have a follow up for that one, so she just drank the rest of her wine.
The marshmallow in question was still staring at the dog, who had now rolled over to have his belly rubbed. Terrifying, was what he was.
"Would you just look at him, Felicity. Can you tell me I'm wrong?"
About as terrifying as his master. And, wow, was this man going to be the biggest push-over as a father or what? Felicity might as well prepare herself now.
Gathering all the sternness she could muster (which wasn't a lot, what with feeling all warm and cozy and just the first teeny edge of tipsy), Felicity announced, "Well, you're going to be seeing him quite a lot. Because you're not leaving here until he's house broken. You bought him. You train him."
Oliver's eyes widened, but he looked far from displeased. "What about the no weekday sleepover rule?"
"Well, it's a good thing it's Friday."
"I think it takes longer than two days to train a dog," Oliver told her skeptically.
"Oliver, I don't know the first thing about dogs. A dog this size would have never fit in our apartment in Vegas, never mind one three to four times this size. No, you are not leaving me alone with him until he's trained." And Felicity refused to admit that there was any secondary gain for her in this what-so-ever. "The people of Star City are just going to have to deal with your…improper behavior."
"You mean like that?" Oliver gave another self-deprecating smile and gestured over his shoulder to where the impromptu press conference was still paused on the flat screen. So, he'd noticed that? Felicity had forgotten in the excitement of their new family member.
"That wasn't improper, that was…" And it was in that moment that Felicity gave up any pretense of being mad at him. "That was incredible."
"Really?" Oliver looking and sounding genuinely shocked.
"I'll play it for you later. You need to watch it. But…there are no words, Oliver. The way you handled that crowd. The way you defended me, us…it was perfect. And the stuff about Palmer Tech…"
Oliver winced as she mentioned it. Still expecting the worst, the big dummy. Felicity cupped his cheeks and smiled into his eyes. "I was…am so proud of you. And I'm sure your parents, wherever they are, are insanely proud as well."
"I…" Oliver opened his mouth and shut it again, before croaking out, "Really?"
"Yes, really," Felicity laughed, pressing her mouth to his in a kiss he enthusiastically returned. It couldn't last long, though, what with Locksley squirming between them. "You're very lucky, you know? If you hadn't saved my life this morning, and did this," she waved at the TV, "this afternoon. I might have been much more put out when you showed up with a dog."
"Don't forget the ice cream and Australian Shiraz," Oliver whispered, looking almost overwhelmed.
"How could I forget? You should get us some more." Felicity gave him a playful shove, hoping to give him a minute to collect himself and Oliver chuckled as he got up to retrieve the bottle.
It worked. By the time Oliver had returned and refilled their glasses, he had a playful smile on his face. "So, let me get this straight, the punishment for not calling first, is that I have to spend more time with you?" Oliver shook his head. "I don't know, that's a bit harsh. Maybe, I should return the puppy after all."
Felicity rolled her eyes, giving Oliver another smack with the back of her hand. "This more Oliver 2.0?"
"Honey, I'm pretty sure we're on at least 3.0 by now, maybe even 4.0."
Oliver was able to catch her hands before she was able to hit him again. He tackled Felicity onto the couch, his hands running up her sides, his intent not sexy-times, unfortunately, but torture. He found her ribs and started tickling them mercilessly. Then, to add insult to injury, he started running his stubble over her neck, giving her simultaneous shivers of pleasure and discomfort.
Felicity erupted into involuntary laughter, further agitated by poor Locksley who was left to wiggle out from between them. The pup seemed to think it a grand game, though, a giant wrestling match, which she supposed it was, and started barking playfully.
It startled Oliver enough for Felicity to get somewhat of an upper hand and squirm on top of him, trying desperately to tickle Oliver back as she convulsed under his demon hands, Locksley now pouncing on her back, yapping continuously.
"Stop. Stop," she gasped. "You're upsetting your dog." Though Felicity was pretty sure Locksley was having as much fun as Oliver was.
Dammit, Felicity was out-numbered. That was probably her stupid boyfriend's evil plan all along. Should have gotten a girl dog. That was probably why Oliver didn't let her pick. He wanted a boy so they could gang up on her.
"Your dog," Oliver corrected, but his fingers slowed and switched from tickling to a caressing.
A shiver ran through her as her skin breathed a sigh of relief at the change of stimulation. Felicity smiled and stretched out on top of Oliver, conceding, "Our dog."
He beamed at that, repeating, "Our dog."
Oliver was just about as happy as Felicity had ever seen him. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to him tightly as Locksley settled himself on the small of her back.
But Felicity couldn't resist teasing, "Our giant puff ball masquerading as a body guard."
"He's going to be terrifying, Felicity," Oliver defended. "You wait and see."
"Terrifying, huh? Like you?"
"I'll show you terrifying!" Oliver attacked her with those wicked fingers again, causing her to laugh and convulse, Locksley yelping as he was unseated when Oliver tried to flip their positions.
"Oliver! Watch the dog! Poor Locksley."
"This is why dogs don't belong on the couch," Oliver grumbled, lifting the poor confused puppy up and setting him on the ground.
"Yes, I'm sure that's what all the puppy manuals say: 'Make sure you don't let your puppy on the couch, it might interfere with a wrestling match with your girlfriend'."
"Wrestling wasn't what I was worried about him interrupting."
Oliver was going in for a kiss, one that Felicity was only too happy to accept when the newly displaced Locksley let out a whine. A whine that turned her heart inside-out.
"Ohhh, Oliver…"
Frowning, Oliver turned to the dog and gave him what Felicity was sure he thought was a disapproving face (but, in reality, it wasn't even close) and said, "Oh, none of that now."
Locksley was so cowed that he let out another whine, amplified by the thump, thump of his tail against the hardwood floors.
Felicity watched the staring contest between her boyfriend and her new puppy and tried not to laugh. "You know you're going to crumble any minute now." It was only seconds away. This dog was getting back on the couch, she was sure of it.
Oliver turned his face back to Felicity's, his eyes narrowed. "I'll have you know that I plan on being a very stern—"
There was no controlling her laughter. The whining and Oliver's eyes and it was just the funniest thing.
"I can tickle you all night," Oliver warned, making her laugh harder.
"Oh no," Felicity gasped, "the terrifying Oliver Queen tickling his girlfriend into submission, call the police, call ARGUS, call the League of Ass—"
Oliver cut off her blatantly disrespectful teasing with his lips this time. And if that was playing dirty than Felicity was all for it. Oliver tasted like rich red wine with raspberry notes and home. She had the sudden and intense impulse to spread mint chocolate chip ice cream over his skin and see how well it paired.
"You know you're the one person the dog and I aren't supposed to scare, right?" Oliver rubbed his nose over hers, turning her knees to jelly. "The fear is for everyone else."
Then Oliver proceeded to attack her neck, this time with his lips and tongue, and with an intent that was not to tickle. Felicity tried to remember what they were talking about, but it seemed much more fortuitous to wrap her legs around him and turn her face to give him better access.
Of course, that meant when Felicity opened her eyes it was to stare into those of one sad little puppy. "Uh, Oliver, we aren't alone."
But Oliver just grunted and worked a hand under her shirt. "The dog will have to get used to this."
Felicity giggled. Yup, she was tipsy. Sure sign. "Oh…but poor neglected Locksley."
"Poor neglected Oliver," he whispered against her ear, before sucking the lobe between his lips and making her hips buck.
"Yes, poor Oliver," Felicity crooned, one hand in his hair encouraging him, the other scratching Locksley's ear, because he was such a sweet baby. "However are you going to manage? And now you have to be over all the time too."
Oliver's head popped up, his eyes bright as they found hers. "If you need me around so much I can move back in right now." He rolled his hips into hers, clearly demonstrating the benefits of such an arrangement. It was a strong argument. "Hell, I've got connections in City Hall now. I could have us married within the hour."
Felicity giggled uncontrollably at his antics, but—she stopped and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "Wait, are you serious?"
His face remained resolute for a whole 30 seconds, before it broke out in a grin. "No," Oliver chuckled. "I mean, I'd love that, but I'm in this for the long game and I think I've learned my lesson. No rushing. Anything."
Sighing with…relief, maybe…but probably more like pure besottedness, Felicity accused, "There you go again, being too perfect."
She really was just teasing, but the way Oliver's face fell, made her rethink the exchange. He pulled away, sitting up. Maybe Felicity had mentioned the perfect thing one to many times. But, goodness, they really needed to get past the insecurity part of getting back together.
Felicity followed him, climbing onto Oliver's lap, before he could even settle and cupping his cheek. "It's okay, you know," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "I accept the fact that sometimes you just can't help being perfect. It's who you are."
It was obvious that Oliver wanted to argue or...something. But Felicity stared him down and he finally sighed, uncoiling muscle by muscle. "You know, I think you're pretty perfect too," he muttered defensively. "You don't see me complaining about it."
Felicity threw back her head and laughed. Then, pressing a kiss against his pouting lips, she confessed, "You are the most aggravating, adorable, wonderful man. Do you know that?"
"I know that it feels like I can't do anything right sometimes," Oliver grumbled.
And Felicity would have continued to tease him, but she had the aching feeling that he was being genuine. He had been on quite the emotional roller coaster over the last twenty-four hours. "You do a lot right. You actually do most things better than every man I know."
Oliver looked up at her, a small smile bending his pout now. "Except when I get it really wrong."
"Sometimes you do get it really wrong," Felicity conceded, running a hand over his rough cheek, trying to soothe. "But we're getting better. And as long as you come and tell me, we can work it through."
"Like when I impulsively buy a dog without asking?" Oliver's eyes were smiling now. Hopeful.
"Lucky for you, you picked a really good dog."
Oliver's dimples peaked out. "And I apologized right away. With ice cream and Shiraz. That counts for something, right?"
And, again, Felicity had to laugh. "Oliver…" She shook her head. "I just…I just can't possibly express how much I love you."
The look on Oliver's face was not what Felicity was anticipating. He jerked back, eyes wide as he demanded, "We're allowed to say that now? You said we had to wait until date 15!"
Okay, Felicity was going to try really hard not to take offense. "What date is it now?
"Twelve," Oliver answered immediately. "You don't know?"
Was she supposed to? "I kinda stopped counting after three. It didn't seem to matter after that."
"It mattered because you said I had to wait until date number 15 to say 'I love you,'" Oliver accused.
There was a flash of recognition as Felicity remembered. So…that was why he hadn't been saying…eek. She kinda thought it was just them going slow. Actually, she hadn't been saying it because he wasn't.
"Okay," Felicity confessed, "number one: I had had quite a lot of tequila when I said that, so I may have forgotten that little detail until right this moment—"
Oliver's head fell back. "Fe-li-ci-ty…"
"Second: I also remember saying quite clearly that we needed to be more honest with our feelings. So, that's what I'm doing. Being honest." Felicity smiled, purposely playing the cute card, it was only fair since it had been played on her so much tonight.
"Ugh," Oliver grunted in frustration. "If had thought that argument would work I'd have been using it from the beginning. Do you have any idea the torture it's been not to tell you—?"
Felicity couldn't stand it. She smashed their lips together for a ridiculously sloppy, uncoordinated kiss, which she really had very little excuse for, since she'd only had a glass and a half of wine. Though, she had had her brain scrambled a bit this morning. So that was something.
"You're wonderful," Felicity breathed between kisses, "and, yes, perfect." She kissed him again before Oliver could protest. "And I have no good excuse for all my stupid, inconsistent rules, except," more kisses, "this whole going slow thing is a lot harder than it looks."
Oliver laughed breathlessly, grabbing the sides of Felicity's head and stopping her from mashing their lips together another time. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I—"
"Oliver…" Felicity giggled.
But then he reeled her back in and Oliver's tongue was in her mouth and it was fabulous and his lips were soft and perfect and Felicity wanted to kiss him forever and never stop. Ever.
That was until a thick tongue that did not belong to either of them slobbered across her chin and cheek.
"Uck!" Oliver yanked away, crying, "Locksley! Down! Off the couch!"
And the look on Oliver's face was possibly the funniest thing Felicity had ever. Laughing uncontrollably, she fell against his shoulder, wiping dog spit off on his t-shirt. If she had her way, it wouldn't be staying on very long anyway.
"This is why no dogs on the couch!" Oliver growled, making Felicity laugh harder. Bet he hadn't thought of this when he bought his impulsive, overprotective, sorry-you-got-knocked-out gift.
Locksley, for his part, had jumped off the coach but was on his hind legs, his paws on Oliver's knee, his tail wagging manically, clearly thinking this was all part of the game.
Oliver shook a finger at him. "You and I are going to come to an understanding, you hear me? Locksley?" Then he turned to Felicity, one eyebrow raised. "Why Locksley?"
"The name?" Oliver nodded and Felicity sat fully up to look him in the eye. She would have thought it obvious. "Think about it." Then, just for fun, she endeavored to distract him with her lips.
It worked pretty well for a while. Until Oliver pulled back from the kiss, abruptly. "Oh my God. Robin of Locksley?"
Felicity nodded, grinning hugely. She was actually quite proud of the name. He even looked like a Locksley.
And Oliver's bark of laughter held a measure of pride that warmed her even further. "I can't believe you named your—"
"—our—"
"Our dog…after Robin Hood?"
"Mmmhmm." Cause it was genius, right?
"And you're not worried it's too obvious?"
Felicity rolled her eyes. She actually thought that was the brilliant part, that it wasn't too obvious. "You named your club after a color green and that was before the Green Arrow was the Star City hero."
"Excellent point." Oliver dimpled. She'd known that last part would win him over. "Felicity, I…"
"You love me?" Felicity helpfully supplied.
Oliver's face softened into that lovesick expression that really just made Felicity's life worth living. "I do. I love you. Very much. I…do you have any idea the happiness you bring me. I swear, I had forgotten how to smile until—"
"Are you going to wax poetic about red pens and bullet filled laptops?" Felicity smirked, loving every second of it. A fuzzy kind of contentment settled in her bones. "You know you're a closet sap, don't you?"
"Only for you." Yet, Oliver didn't look the least bit insulted. "I never told you about the first time I saw you, have I?"
Felicity's brow crinkled. What was Oliver getting at? She remembered how they met quite clearly. "Not at QC?"
"Oh, at QC." Oliver rubbed soothing circles on her back with one hand, the other hand doing the same to Locksley who had laid his head on Oliver's thigh. "In 2010."
The math only took a second. "We met in 2012…weren't you on Lian Yu in 2010?"
"Part of it. I was also in Hong Kong for much of it." Oliver's eyes drifted away for a moment and he huffed out a bitter little laugh. "It was a busy year."
Felicity knew about Hong Kong. Very few details, of course. Oliver only gave details when it was absolutely necessary, but she knew he'd been there, why and how. She knew what Amanda Waller had done to him. Had made him do. Felicity hated to think ill of the dead, but…
"Well, I'm pretty sure I've never been to Hong Kong, so—"
"Remember how I told you I came back to Star City…Starling then…once before and saw Thea?" When Felicity nodded, Oliver added, "Amanda Waller forced me to do a mission here."
Of course, she did. Now, the story Oliver told her so long ago made much more sense. "And, I'm going to take a wild, out-of-nowhere guess and say Amanda wouldn't let you contact your family and let them know you were…say, not dead?" Felicity took back not thinking ill of the dead. A bitch was a bitch. Dead or alive.
Oliver gave her a small nod, the faraway look still in his eyes. "I had to break into QC one night and guess who was still working." Felicity pointed at herself and Oliver nodded, his smile coming back.
"Figures. I had absolutely no life."
"You were leaving something on my mom's desk and picked up a photo of me." Oliver's smile was both fond and arrogant. "You said I was cute and it was too bad that I was dead."
Okay, this was actually turning into a really embarrassing story. Seriously, the first time the love of her life saw her, she was working too late and ogling his picture? Wasn't that lovely. Felicity shrugged, trying to seem unaffected, "Well…I really didn't have the best judgement back then."
"That so?" Oliver ran his fingers over her ribs in punishment, resulting in a fit of ticklish giggles. And Felicity had to admit, she probably deserved it.
"Did you see your haircut back then?" Felicity gasped, wiggling to avoid his evil fingers.
"Just because you destroyed all photographic evidence of your bad style choices…" But the tickling stopped and Oliver pulled her closer so that their bodies were flush. "God, I love you. Even then—"
"You did not love me back then," Felicity protested, laughing, forgetting her embarrassment. Why ruminate on it when it had all turned out so well?
"No," Oliver chuckled. "But even then…I just wanted to be near you."
His tone turned more serious and Felicity's smile faltered, just imagining what it must have been like for him. "Why didn't you stay? I know Amanda Waller must have threatened you, but I also know you and you could have found a way."
Oliver crinkled his nose and blew out a breath. "I might have killed Thea's drug dealer."
Felicity winced. "Riiiight, this is that story. The one where you wanted to protect her." How could she forget? Sometimes it was hard to keep track of all the fragmented stories she'd been told over the years.
And, sometimes, it was easy to forget the man Felicity met in 2012. The man whose morals were much murkier and who could snap a neck…she shuddered, shaking her head to clear the image.
"He'd pulled a knife, but…" That old, ugly guilt clouded Oliver's features and she knew he was thinking that he could have disarmed the guy. That he hadn't had to kill him. Felicity ran her nails along his scalp in a soothing pattern and he continued, "Anyway, it was clear I wasn't fit for human company. Not my family or…you."
"I was a stranger," Felicity reminded him softly, because, while she was flattered that he remembered her, she found it hard to believe Oliver…especially that Oliver believed in love at first sight.
"Yes, you were." And his face softened back into a fond, reminiscing look. He didn't elaborate.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Felicity asked, searching his face.
Oliver shrugged. "I dunno. Not a time I particularly wanted to think about."
Felicity ran her nails down over his scruff. "So, why are you telling me now?"
"I…I guess I just wanted you to know."
That was a really good answer. Felicity smiled, rewarding him with a slow, sweet kiss.
"I love you," Oliver murmured as their lips parted.
Felicity chuckled. "Are you going to keep saying it over and over now?"
"Yup." And the look Oliver gave her was completely serious. "As often as I can. I'm allowed now."
A full laugh erupted at that, pleased and happy. "Yes, you can." Felicity pressed another kiss to Oliver's lips. "Look at us, communicating. I think we're relationshipping rather well."
Oliver hugged her closer, pressing a kiss to her nose. "I'm feeling pretty good about it."
"Well, in the interest of healthy communication, I have a confession." Oliver raised an eyebrow and Felicity glanced behind them at Locksley who was still on the floor, staring up at them adoringly, his tail wagging. "I may have fallen in love at first sight." She gestured over her shoulder with a finger. "With that guy."
Oliver let out a bellow of a laugh. "Should I be jealous?"
"I suppose I have enough room in my heart for both of you. Though, only time will tell…"
"'Come 'ere," Oliver grabbed her and flipped her onto her back, pinning her to the couch, but this time there was no tickling, he just brought his lips too hers and kissed her deeply.
Just when things were getting nice and hot and heavy, something wet bumped the bare skin where her shirt had ridden up. Felicity cracked open an eye to see Locksley's nose butting her. He let out a whine.
Oliver groaned and turned to the dog, almost pleading, "Come on, buddy. We're busy here."
And, judging by the hard ridge pressed against Felicity's thigh, they had the potential to be much busier.
"Arrr. Arf…"
Felicity just had to laugh at how sad and pathetic he sounded. "You know, Locksley's been here a while. No food. No water."
"Ugh." Oliver's forehead fell to Felicity's shoulder. "He's a dog. He can wait a little longer."
"He's a baby. And he probably needs a walk."
Oliver looked up and Felicity now had two boys giving her identical puppy-dog eyes. She shoved Oliver off of her. "You wanted a dog. Now take care of him."
It wasn't hard to figure out which one of them won. After all, Locksley was just a baby and Oliver and Felicity had all the time in the world.
Chapter 3 author's Note:
I'm not sure if I am ashamed or not to admit that I spent far more time researching the perfect dog for Oliver and Felicity than I ever did for my own dogs. It started with a search for "guard dogs that are safe for kids" and this lead me to the Japanese Akita. I'd never heard of them before. They are loyal and independent family dogs who will protect their family with their lives. And, yes, they were bred to take down bears.
We have the talented Ireland1733 to thank for the awesome chapter art and Locksley's portrait at the end. As ever, thank you to Rayna for the title art. Thank you to Fairytalehearts for all her hard work (don't forget to try her OFBB fic: One Last Time).
Don't forget to let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!
Emmy
PS. if you want to see pictures of Locksley visit the version on Archive of Our Own or my Tumblr at Emmilynestill and search OI&R or Locklsey