This chapter is rated "M" with borderline explicit sexual phraseology. Warnings for two adults indulging in excessive and varied alcoholic beverages as well as for excessive fluff. Also, this chapter deviates one hundred percent from any spoilers that have emerged about Season 5. In fact, it could be considered self-indulgent fantasy fulfillment.
Years ago, I read something about relationships that has really stuck with me through the years, though I can't even remember where I read it now. But it said that most people think of communication and trust as the foundation of a relationship, but in reality (according to this author) the foundation is fun. Couples come together because being together feels good. And if a couple stops feeling enjoyment in each other's presence, the relationship is doomed. So, while trust and communication is essential to any good relationship, without fun, you don't have a relationship worth saving.
This chapter is dedicated to that author whose name I forgot.
Of Redemption and Inebriation:
Date 31: Mixology
July 15, 2016
Oliver was whistling as he walked into Felicity's apartment building. That alone was pretty unusual. He wasn't really someone who whistled, generally. At least not since he was a little kid. Especially since, one) whistling tended to alert someone to his presence. And two) it was usually something someone did when they were relaxed and happy.
Maybe, he had whistled a bit in Ivy Town. Oliver really didn't remember. If he did, it wasn't something that he took particular note of like he did today.
But today…today had been a damn good day and it had potential to get even better.
Oliver had had a productive morning at City Hall, so productive that he had actually been able to leave and begin his weekend a little early. It was a miracle that anything got accomplished there somedays. Running everything by a goddamn committee was a pain in the ass. But today, after verbally eviscerating a particularly dickish councilman, an agreement was actually made. Progress.
Then Oliver received instructions from his girlfriend to bring a bag packed for the weekend and come to the Loft asap.
No one was in the hospital. No one was threatening to blow up the city. Life was about as good as it got for Oliver Queen. He was about to knock on wood…specifically Felicity's door, when he remembered her text from earlier today:
Felicity:
And don't bother knocking. Come right in. I have a surprise for you.
Smiling to himself, Oliver got out his key and opened the familiar lock. Locksley was in his premium dog bed next to the door (in three weeks he had obtained no less than five such beds between the Loft and the Bunker). The puppy sat up straight and watchful, intelligent eyes trained on whoever dared entire his home.
When Oliver stepped in, it was almost as if the dog broke out into a smile, his body relaxing, his mouth falling open, and his tail wagging. Locksley sprang out of his bed to greet him and Oliver beamed with pride.
"Good boy, Locksley. That's my boy." Scratching his head, Oliver reached into his pocket and produced a treat (healthy and organic of course), and fed it to the happy puppy.
Locksley bathed his face with his tongue. It was not something Oliver would have ever imagined he would enjoy, but here he was, burying his face in Locksley's fur and giving his dog a vigorous whole body rub as the puppy licked every patch skin he could find and wriggled in barely contained ecstasy.
Bright late afternoon sunshine flooded the Loft. It almost felt more like Central City or Ivy Town than Star City today. But, maybe, Oliver was still just getting used to this whole sleep at night, awake during the day thing. Oh… and not spending all his free time in basement lairs. That was defiantly a new thing for him.
Even the Loft, itself, was cheerful again. After the breakup, Felicity had packed away all the knickknacks that they had bought together, leaving the apartment as cold and austere as it had been before she had arrived.
But since they had reconciled, things had trickled back out. A photograph here, an eclectic vase there. And, now, the Loft was almost completely back to the way it was supposed to be and Oliver couldn't really express how that made him feel.
Even the music playing in the background warmed him. Felicity was playing her bizarre "Everything I Have Ever Liked Playlist." It consisted of everything from Alternative to Classic Rock, Broadway to Number 1 Pop singles. It was as varied and unique as she was.
And the lady in question…she was singing to herself in the kitchen, just slightly off-key. Felicity had a beautiful voice, but her pitch…it was hit or miss most days. Instead of calling for her, Oliver quietly made his way to the kitchen, Locksley padding beside him like a shadow.
This was one of Oliver's secret, guilty pleasures, finding Felicity unawares, doing her cute, quirky Felicity things. Dancing around the kitchen in her bare feet, the floral dress Felicity wore (which Oliver was sure looked quite professional this morning), twirled delectably around her thighs and her ponytail swayed to the beat, tendrils escaping at her temple. In her hands was a drink shaker that she was, well, shaking to the rhythm as she sang and danced.
"Haters gotta hate hate hate hate…"
Oliver swallowed a chuckle and planted himself in the kitchen with his arms crossed and waited…until Felicity danced right into him. Just as he knew she would.
"Oooff. You're here!"
Chuckling, Oliver caught her by the waist. "I'm here." He straightened her glasses, then took the shaker from her hands and placed it on the counter before Felicity dropped it. "You said to come right in."
Felicity grinned. "I did, but I didn't say to sneak in like sneaky-sneak person." She threw an arm around Oliver's neck and looked down at Locksley, shaking her finger at him, "And you, you're supposed to let me know if someone is here, so I don't embarrass myself."
"First of all, you never need to be embarrassed with me." Oliver hauled her closer, pulling her to him so she had to raise herself up onto her toes and he could press their foreheads together. "And second, Locksley isn't supposed to bark for family." Oh shit…was that overstepping? Damn, he kept doing that. "Not that—"
"Well, he did bark so loud the first time Curtis came over I'm pretty sure the neighbors called the cops," Felicity laughed, completely ignoring his possible faux pas. Thank God. "Lucky for me, the cops are way too understaffed to deal with an overzealous puppy."
Oliver kissed her then. Actually, he wasn't sure why it took him so long. Felicity smiled into it and joined in on the slow slide of lips against lips that quickly moved on to tongues tangled with tongues and the beautiful taste of…Bailey's? And, maybe, some Kahlua…or…possibly Butterscotch?
Pulling back, Oliver licked his lips. Then hers for good measure. He glanced behind Felicity at the disarray in the kitchen. "What have you been up to? It looks like you bought out the liquor store."
"Not quite, I…" Felicity did that adorable little quick head shake, shrug thing she did, blushing and biting her lip. "I needed a variety of ingredients. Okay, so…remember how I said that I had good news and, also, that we have something to celebrate?"
"Yeah." Oliver also knew that Felicity had had a very important meeting at Palmer Tech today. And a greeting like this meant that it had to have gone well. "How did—?"
Felicity's pointer finger went up, as she interrupted him, "Op! Patience!" She leaned back in Oliver's arms, telling him, "I wanted to do something special, something more special than ordering our favorite take-out, since we do that all the time. And, unlike you, if I tried to cook, it would be a tragedy, not a celebration."
"True," Oliver agreed, in his best somber tone.
"Hey!" Felicity smacked him on the shoulder, the way she often did, her intent to hit, but not hurt. The result being it didn't even sting. "If it weren't so obviously true, I'd be insulted."
Chuckling, Oliver readjusted his arms around her to pull her even closer. "Give me one thing. One thing that I'm better at than you."
"I think there's more than one thing…" Felicity swayed toward him before catching herself. "Stop! You're distracting me! How did you distract me already?" Felicity babbled and Oliver was beginning to suspect she was already tipsy, which was odd because she wasn't really a drinking by herself kinda girl. "So, I decided if I couldn't cook, I'd try my hand at Mixology."
"Mixology?" Seriously? Well, that would explain the tipsy.
"Yes, the art of mixing alcoholic—"
"I Know what mixology is, Felicity," Oliver interrupted, looking behind her at all the bottles on the counter. "I just don't know…what's this new thing you have with alcohol?"
"What?" Felicity smacked him again. Harder this time. "I don't have a thing with alcohol. I haven't had hard liquor since the tequila…oh…oh… I didn't get any tequila." She twirled out of his arms, obviously distressed. "None of the drinks I found had any. How could none of them have tequila?"
Oliver glanced over Felicity's new collection…one he really hoped she would not be taste-testing on the nights he wasn't there. There was soft stuff like Bailey's and Kahlua, various Schnapps, but there was also Southern Comfort and Royal Crown and…good God, was that Jägermeister? Failing out of college number three could be blamed almost entirely on Jägermeister.
"I really don't think we need tequila."
"But it's my favorite," Felicity pouted. She was definitely already tipsy.
"Since when?" Because that was definitely new.
Felicity tipped her head to the side and looked at Oliver with a dreamy expression. "Since the night we got back together."
Oliver growled at that. Christ, she turned him on. Lunging for Felicity, he easily captured her again, but it also inspired another bout of the giggles. At least, until he was able to capture her lips and push all such nonsense from her mind.
Felicity's words made Oliver simultaneously want to claim her and savor her. Her laugher turned to hums of pleasure as she enthusiastically drew his tongue into her mouth. Delicious. Definitely, Baileys and Butterscotch.
"You've been starting without me," Oliver murmured into her mouth. "Bailey's tastes good on you."
"I've been taste testing," Felicity explained with a cute little nod of her head.
Chuckling, Oliver pointed out, "You know, I'm not sure mixed drinks really counts as dinner. It sounds kind of dangerous, actually."
Good thing there was nothing on the Arrow radar for tonight. Even so, Oliver wondered if Felicity would be insulted if he whipped some food up real quick. Or they could order pizza. He was kind of hungry.
"Of course not. I have food too!" Felicity protested with an eye roll, sounding somewhat insulted as she pulled out of Oliver's arms. "In fact, all major food groups have been represented."
Uhh Ohh. Now, Oliver was really getting worried.
Grabbing a pot holder, Felicity pulled a tray out of the oven. "Ta-da!" She revealed her specialty. Pigs in blankets. "See, protein and grains!"
Oliver chuckled. Mostly from relief. "Oh, I'll give you protein. Sort of. I don't know about grains—"
"Oh shut up, you." Felicity waved her hand at him, dismissively. "The blankets are a bread product, therefor…grain."
"Arf!" came a dignified little yelp.
Locksley had suddenly appeared at Felicity's feet. Then, before Oliver could say a word, Felicity slipped the dog one of her prefabricated appetizers.
Seriously? Is this what went on when Oliver wasn't there? He had very carefully researched Locksley's diet. "Felicity! Not only are dogs not supposed to have pork—"
"Not pork. Kosher hot dogs. Therefore, beef."
Really not the point. "Regardless, it isn't healthy for him. And you just reinforced his bad behavior—"
"Don't worry, baby," Felicity crooned to Locksley, bending down and giving him a good rub. "Daddy will be less cranky after he's had some of mommy's drinks."
"Ugh," Oliver groaned. "I'm not his daddy, Feli—"
"Shush!" Felicity told him sternly, before grabbing a large bowl and plopping it down on the breakfast bar, next to the pigs in blankets. "We also have corn in the form of corn tortillas."
"Which counts as a starch, but not a vegetable," Oliver pointed out, still feeling argumentative over their conflicting puppy parenting styles.
"Which," Felicity ignored Oliver's tone, instead pulling two smaller bowls from the fridge, "is why I have represented both fruits and vegetables in the form of chunky garden salsa and mango salsa. Both from the organic Deli down the street that you love so much."
And just like that, most of Oliver's irritation melted away. It was his favorite. Felicity was clearly trying very hard to make this night special. They could discuss Locksley's dining habits later. Maybe, he should pull together some graphs. Felicity was a math person.
"It looks fantastic, honey." Oliver dropped a peck on Felicity cheek and grabbed an appetizer. He had a feeling he'd need the fortification for everything his girl had planned this evening. "Now, are you going to tell me what we are celebrating?"
Felicity beamed at the praise. "Yes…but first…." She danced back behind the counter and grabbed her abandoned shaker. As she poured her concoction (green, Oliver noted) over ice, he settled into a stool next to the chips and his favorite salsa.
"Cheers!" Felicity announced, brightly, pushing one glass toward him and lifting hers high.
"Cheers." Oliver clinked his drink with hers and leaned in for a quick kiss before drinking.
"Interesting." Sweet. He could barely taste the alcohol, which was dangerous. "What's it called?"
"The Leg Spreader."
Oliver choked on this fruity girl drink. "The Leg Spreader?"
"Mmm Hmm. Not to be confused with the Wyoming Leg Spreader." Felicity twirled away and came back with a tumbler that was definitely not green, but rather a dark brown. "This one has coke, Grain Alcohol and Raspberry Liquor."
Oliver's eyes widened. "You used Everclear?" Felicity nodded, but judging by the innocent look in her eyes, it was clear she had no idea what she was dealing with. Shaking his head, he asked, "You know that stuff's like pure alcohol? It's practically rubbing alcohol."
Felicity's eyes flew to the bottle and picked it up to examine the label closely. "Huh. No wonder it tastes terrible."
Chuckling, Oliver sipped the 'terrible' drink. Actually, it was rather good. At least he could taste the alcohol in this one. Similar name or not, the drinks couldn't be more different.
"I think I prefer the Wyoming, the other's too girly."
"Well, I prefer this one." Felicity plunked a straw into her green girly drink. "Besides, shouldn't the 'Leg Spreader' be for girls—women, I mean?"
"Excellent point," Oliver conceded with a grin. "Do I…detect a theme with tonight's drinks?"
"Why, yes, you do." Felicity leaned over the counter and smiled wickedly at him. "Try googling 'suggestive cocktails' someday. You wouldn't believe what comes up."
"Actually, I think I would." Oliver crooked a finger at her, urging Felicity to lean further over the counter to meet his lips. They actually managed a rather deep kiss, considering. It was incredibly erotic, as a matter of fact, with only their mouths touching, their tongues entwined, the massive kitchen island between them. It heightened and concentrated all sensation at the connection.
When it ended, Oliver found himself short of breath and his jeans tight. "You better tell me your news soon or we're never going to get to it," he warned, his voice rough.
Felicity flushed, her eyes shining. "Right. Good. So…"
"So…?" Oliver prompted, sitting back, digging into the chips and trying to ignore his annoyed cock.
Taking a deep breath, Felicity began, "Remember how when PT stocks bottomed out, I asked you about any money you had hidden away?"
Oliver nodded. "I cleaned out two out of three of my emergency accounts. We had better not have to go on the run anytime soon."
"I should certainly hope not. Especially since we've committed to…no, no tangents. Anyway…" Felicity shook her head, almost like she was trying to reset her busy brain. Or clear the alcohol fog. Either way, she was too damn cute. "I appreciate not only the money, but that you gave up…two out of three of your obsessive freak-out zombie-apocalypse funds. It shows growth."
"Drink your Leg Spreader," Oliver grumbled, making Felicity laugh. Though, she did as she suggested and seemed quite happy to do so.
"Though I appreciate the confidence, I did find it strange that you didn't ask me what I wanted the money for," Felicity teased.
Oliver shrugged, reaching over for more pigs in a blanket. "You used it to buy stock, didn't you?"
"Well, yes—"
"So…?" He wasn't an idiot. Sometimes, people seemed to forget Oliver was perfectly capable to putting two and two together.
"So…" Felicity broke out in a huge grin, bouncing on her feet. "You and I combined now own a total of 51.2% of PT stock!"
Oliver was surprised at how profound the relief he felt was. It was about fucking time! And this time he was going to make sure that no lunatics could touch that damn stock. We got it back, Mom. I'm sorry it took so long.
Reaching across the counter, Oliver took Felicity's hand and squeezed it tight. "You are remarkable. Thank you!"
"Thank you!" Felicity squeezed back, practically giddy. "If it weren't for your speech about being ashamed of what had become of the company, stocks wouldn't have gotten low enough for us to buy this much."
Oliver winced. "Well, that wasn't exactly my intention, but…"
"Wait! It gets so much better." Felicity pulled her hand away. She was far too animated in that moment to stay tethered to anything. "Curtis and Paul now own 6% of the company. And Walter 10%. That 2/3 of the vote, baby! Bam! Drop the mic!"
Felicity threw her hands in the air and Oliver wondered if he was supposed to clap. Apparently not, because she just kept on talking. "But here's the best part. The Board, they hadn't figured this out yet. So, they call me Curtis in to magnanimously offer us our jobs back."
Oliver barked out a laugh, enjoying the show and the salsa, while perhaps discretely slipping a few chips to Locksley. He was being good, sitting so quietly at his feet.
"They even told us that they've fired Mr. Dennis, as if that would entice us back. They were rather proud of themselves."
"Having no idea that you now own the company?" Oliver couldn't help but smirk a bit around his Wyoming.
"That we now own the company," Felicity corrected firmly, before bouncing like child. "But, no. No clue. It was glorious. We tell them that, guess what, you aren't in a position to hire or fire anyone. We own the company and, yup, I'm CEO again and Curtis, he's VP and all of you," she gestured wildly as if they sat in front of her. "Fired! Fired! Fired!"
"Seriously?" Oliver choked on his laugh that time. "You fired the entire board."
Felicity took a long drink from her straw, sipping until Oliver could hear the sounds of slurping the last dregs from the bottom of the glass. Uh oh. "Yup. Well, maybe we'll hire a few of the good ones back. But we were making a statement. Nobody messes with us!"
"Bam?"
"Bam!" Felicity agreed, beaming, even showing her jazz hands.
"That's my girl!" God, Oliver was so proud of her. "Get over here."
"Oh no!" Felicity danced out of his reach, which probably wasn't necessary since there was still a breakfast counter between them. "You haven't heard the best part."
"There's more?" What else could there be?
"I got a call from the Veteran's Association. Not a nonprofit group, the actual government division in charge of Vets. We negotiated a price and…" Felicity let out a squeal she just couldn't seem to contain. "Curtis' Bio Stimulant is going to be made available to every man or woman who has ever served in the military and has been wounded during service to their country. We're even going to make a profit!"
"Oh wow. Felicity, that's…" Oliver held out his hands to her and she grabbed them, jumping up and down. "That's incredible."
"Well, it's not a huge profit, but it's a profit. And we're in negotiations with the Christopher Reeves Foundation to help subsidize civilian implants. We're going to be able to help people and turn the company around."
There were tears in her eyes and Oliver couldn't stand it anymore. He stalked around the goddamn counter and pulled her into his arms. "Felicity. You're just…" He shook his head. It was times like this, when he just couldn't find the words. "I told you you were the best person for the job. I don't think the company has ever been in better hands."
If Oliver didn't think Felicity's smile could get any wider, he was wrong, because it did, seconds before she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Hard.
The fervent press of lips against lips quickly turned deep and sexy. Triumph and liquor roared though both their veins, making them just this side of wild. It was warm and passionate and fucking fantastic. Oliver cupped her head and urged it to the side with one hand, settling the other on the curve of her ass. This was one damn good day. For once fate was on their side.
"So," Felicity murmured, taking one last nip at Oliver's lip. "What do you want to try next, a Slow Comfortable Screw or a Royal Fuck?"
Oliver blinked. It took him a minute to realize that Felicity was talking about drinks and not offering bedroom options. "Can I have both?" And, maybe, he was talking more about bedroom options. Come to think of it, he had plans for a whole range of things tonight.
Felicity's grin was wicked. "Absolutely!" And she twirled out of Oliver's arms, back to her make-shift bar.
It wasn't until she was no longer touching him that Oliver realized he may have made a mistake. If these new drinks were as strong as the Wyoming Leg Spreader then both was a bad idea. "Though, maybe, we should share them. That way we can try more kinds?"
"Smart! Don't want anyone passing out too early." Felicity threw Oliver a wink from over her shoulder, before turning her eyes to her tablet and scrolling over what must be her recipes. "I'm not sure about the Three Legged Monkey. But, oooo…I want to try the Pop My Cherry."
Crossing his arms, Oliver leaned against the counter and enjoyed watching his girlfriend enjoying herself . "Hate to break it to you, hon, but I think that boat has already sailed."
"For Cherry Vodka," Felicity smirked, "I'll pretend." She started pouring ingredients into the rinsed out shaker. "I think we should get all the fruity drinks done first, then go for the creamy ones. Since they probably won't mix very well. Don't you think?"
"Uh, I think you better have some more pigs in blankets." Oliver grabbed the tray and held it out to her. "How much do you think the two of us can drink?" Felicity kept pulling out glasses. He didn't even know they owned that many glasses.
Felicity popped an appetizer into her mouth, then waved her hand dismissively, shaking the drink, then pouring, as she chewed. She really wasn't bad at this Mixology thing. Oliver wondered if he should be worried.
"Oh, we don't have to finish any of them. It's just a sampling. For fun."
And Oliver was certainly having fun. It was a strange thing. Fun. Something he'd known even less of than happiness over the last nine years.
"So, I didn't get any of the stuff for Liquid Viagra," Felicity went on, one eye on her tablet as she rinsed out the shaker and started her second drink. "I just don't think we need any of that."
"Absolutely not!"
Oliver may have said it a little too vehemently because it set off a trill of giggles. Hiccupping a bit, Felicity told him, "Plus, Jägermeister and Red Bull sounds like more of a recipe for a stroke than sexy times."
Reflexively, Oliver gagged. "It sounds disgusting."
"That too." Felicity nodded as she snagged two more pigs, popping one in her mouth and slipping the other to Locksley. She didn't think Oliver noticed. But he did. Oh he did. To be fair, though, she did great job of distracting him when she asked, "How about 1-900-FUK-MEUP?"
Now, his Felicity, she just didn't have a dirty mouth. So her saying these things, so casually, it was kind of doing something to him. Still, Oliver managed to say, very sensibly he might add, "Honey, I'm a hundred percent certain that we do not need anything called 1-900-FUK-MEUP."
Felicity frowned down at whatever nonsense she was staring at on her tablet, her face scrunched up adorably. "There are too many ingredients in that one anyway. Let's see…Fuzzy Navels are boring. Everyone's had one of those…. Oh! Oh oh oh…we must try the Sex with an Alligator!"
"That doesn't even make sense," Oliver laughed, finishing his Wyoming and doing a pretty good job on the tortillas chips as well. He wouldn't mind some actual dinner. "Why would anyone want to have sex with an alligator?"
"Who cares? Look how cool this looks!" Felicity turned the tablet around to show him the multilayered, even greener, drink. "We must try it!"
Oliver threw his hands up in surrender. Far be it from him to argue with the bartender. Especially when she was this delightful. "If we must."
Sex with an Alligator was a more complicated drink than the rest, with layers and what-not. Watching Felicity put it together in a martini glass, biting her lip in concentration was both adorable and incredibly sexy. And, while Oliver could watch the love of his life gracefully (or not so gracefully as the case may be) flitting around the kitchen for hours, the innuendo and the flirting and the kisses…they had him ready to move this to the bedroom.
Oliver wondered if Felicity had any clue as to how a little bit of alcohol changed the way she moved, made everything a little slower, a little more sensual, took away the anxious, quick, determined edge she usually had and let her body just take over, so she moved with an even more natural sex appeal.
"Here we go," Felicity announced, proudly, lining the Sex with an Alligator up next to her three other drinks. Four drinks total. Christ, they better be weak.
"Impressive." And Oliver actually meant it. They looked great. He'd bet Felicity learned more than card counting in Vegas. "The alligator one is almost too beautiful to drink."
"Oh no," Felicity laughed, coming around to his side and pulling Oliver with her. "That would be no fun at all."
Oliver sat in the stool and shifted back so that Felicity could half-sit on the seat in front of him, lounging back against his chest. He spread a hand over her middle and pressed a kiss on her cheek before asking, "So where do we start?" gesturing to the row of drinks.
"Ok, so this one here is our Royal Fuck—"
Oliver laughed and shook his head. "How do these stupid names sound so damn sexy coming from your lips?"
"That's 'cause you got it bad, honey," Felicity drawled, head lolling on his shoulder as she looked up at him.
"That I do." Oliver pressed a lingering kiss on her neck. There was no arguing with that.
"And here's the Pop My Cherry and our Slow Comfortable Screw."
"That sounds really good right now," Oliver murmured into her ear, before taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking.
Felicity lets out an odd, but, somehow, sexy sound that started out as a moan and turned into a giggle, then went back to a moan. But she persevered, very determined they enjoy her masterpieces. "And, of course, this is our Sex with an Alligator. Stop, trying to distract me," she grumped, pulled her head away from his questing mouth. "Let's Drink!"
Oliver could point out that Felicity's hand was busy kneading his thigh, but decided it was unimportant (and that hand might stop) so…
They started tasting the various concoctions, debating the pros and cons of each. Oliver had to say, even with his wide and varied experiences with alcohol before, he didn't think he had ever had so much fun drinking before. Though, it probably helped that he was sober enough to know what was going on.
Felicity would lean back on Oliver's chest as she sipped, then hold the glass up for him to try, making stupid innuendoes that often made no sense what-so-ever. It was so easy to forget…everything. Anything that wasn't right there in his arms (and maybe at his feet, because Locksley wouldn't be completely ignored.)
The drinks were much stronger than Oliver expected (and hoped). Felicity seemed disappointed that none of them approached the sweet fruitiness of The Leg Spreader, but that just made it easier to make sure that she only had a few sips of each.
The Slow Comfortable Screw was, unfortunately, terrible. Oliver enjoyed the Royal Fuck, though it was way too much for Felicity. She preferred the Three Legged Monkey, but it was still damn strong and Oliver had to keep distracting her from drinking too much.
Oliver felt the Pop My Cherry was the winner, even if its name was far from relevant, but Felicity was rather disappointed that it tasted like vodka and not like cherries. Apparently, she felt a fruit flavored vodka should taste more like a cordial than a vodka.
"Okay, time for Sex with an Alligator." Felicity rubbed her hands together with excitement, making Oliver laugh, he couldn't really imagine it would be any more exceptional than the rest. And the green and brown was interesting, but not all that appetizing. She went to grab it, but then pulled her hand back. "You try it first. I don't want to ruin all the pretty layers."
Oliver almost protested, out of well ingrained chivalry, but then he remembered that one of his goals here was to make sure he drank at least twice as much as Felicity. He wanted her to make it through the night.
So he took a careful sip of her masterpiece. "Whoa…" Oliver blinked, the strong, sweet flavors flooding his tongue. "That's…that's not what I expected."
"You didn't think something called Sex with an Alligator would be tame, did you?" Felicity dissolved into giggles and Oliver had to tighten his arm around her waist to make sure she didn't slide off the stool and collapse on the floor.
He took another sip, just to try to figure out what the hell they were drinking, before handing it to Felicity with no better clue than before. But it was too sweet to be that bad, right? It was more the unusual flavors that had him thrown than the strong taste of alcohol.
"What's in it?"
Felicity used both hands, wisely, to drink from the martini glass. "Ooo…wow…yeah, I think that's the Jäger."
"Jägermeister?" Oliver gapped. "You put Jägermeister in this? How did I miss you pouring that?" But, yeah, that was definitely the taste he was having trouble placing.
Giggling was pretty much a state of being for Felicity at this point as she gasped out, "I'm stealthy." She tilted back her head to use a stage whisper and say, "I've been taking lessons from my Lover." Then she was unable to speak at all, due to the fits of laughter that followed.
Oliver took the half-finished drink from her hand, before they both wound up wearing it, and placed it on the counter. Then he turned Felicity to face him and stopped the giggles with his lips.
Once Oliver had Felicity panting and appropriately serious, he murmured, "I think we've had enough. How about we take this upstairs—"
"No!" Felicity yanked herself out of his arms and half-danced, half-stumbled back to the kitchen. "We have so many more drinks to try."
"Honey, we try many more and we won't make it up the stairs." And by 'we' Oliver meant Felicity. And he was one secret Jägermeister shot away from being unable, and unwilling, to risk carrying her.
But Felicity shot him a look so hot…a look that said she saw no reason to go upstairs and that she was very open to counter sex. And since that suited Oliver just fine…
Felicity pulled over her tablet to look over her recipes again and blinked her eyes rapidly. Oliver wondered if the words were blurring yet. He was starting to feel rather warm himself.
"So, do you prefer your Nipples Buttery or Slippery?"
Oliver laughed. He just couldn't help himself. "I prefer them to be yours." And he punctuated the comment with a smirk, which Felicity returned, her eyes shining.
"We also have the Sex Machine and the Screaming Orgasm…"
"A classic."
"For good reason," Felicity agreed, scrolling down. "How about a Sit on My Face."
"I'm up for it if you are," Oliver returned, thoroughly enjoying himself.
"I'll bet you are." But Felicity didn't seem to realize he was much more interested in the real thing, or maybe she did, but chose to ignore it as she started to pull out ingredients.
Looked like they were doing this, against Oliver's better judgment. Oh well. In for a penny. "I need to see you do a Blowjob."
Though weak and girly, it was one of the most fun shots to do and it had been forever since Oliver had one. Or seen a girl he was interested in do one. Just thinking about Felicity doing it made his cock twitch. As long as he didn't drink enough to affect that, he was good.
"My, aren't we demanding today." Then Felicity leaned over the counter to say against Oliver's lips. "I'll do you one better. How about a Deep Throat?"
Her voice was deep and sultry and…Oliver closed his hand over the back of her head and yanked her in with a growl, showing her with his tongue how he planned on acting out all these ridiculous names.
Except the alligator one. That was just stupid.
"As long as you drink it like a Blow Job," Oliver breathed into her mouth.
Felicity blinked owlishly from behind her glasses, taking a moment to catch up. "Is there a special way to drink it?"
"Oh, my love, you've never done a Blow Job shot?" Oliver asked, surprised. He figured they'd have had those at MIT too. But Felicity's shrug told him that they hadn't or, at least, his former rebel hadn't run into them. "Then line 'em up, baby," he demanded playfully, slapping the counter since her ass was out of reach.
Giggling and smiling like a loon, Felicity pulled out the Green Arrow shot glasses. Baileys. Kahlua. Whip cream. "If you like this," Felicity said coyly, "can I also make you a Cock Sucking Cowboy?"
"Uhh. No." Oliver refused to justify his position. Or even think about it any further. Just no.
"Come on," Felicity ribbed, knowing exactly what she was doing. "It sounds delicious."
Enough of that. "Shut up and come here." And the fact that he not only said that to Felicity but that she came, just proved how drunk both of them must be getting.
"So, it's like this." Oliver pulled a shot in front of him and placed his hands behind his back, then leaned over and closed his lips around the rim of the shot glass, capturing it with his teeth before throwing his head back to swallow the creamy mixture.
When Oliver turned to look at Felicity, her mouth was hanging open and her eyes were glazed. "Oh… my… God… How did I not know you could do that? How did I not know this existed?"
Oliver smirked, enjoying the look in her eyes. "You want to see how I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue?"
"Yes, please." Felicity nodded fervently for emphasis.
Oliver laughed and pulled Felicity into a deep kiss. It seemed much more prudent to show her his technique with her tongue rather than a silly cherry stem. He tasted the mixture of the sweet fruit juices and the heady tang of the different liquors. "After you do your shot I'll show you anything you want." He pushed the other Deep Throat toward her.
Felicity wrinkled her nose. "I don't know if I can do that."
"Sure you can. Just lock the glass in your teeth and keep your lips sealed around the rim. What could go wrong?" Oliver grinned, because no matter what, it was going to be awesome.
Felicity shot him a skeptical look, but clasped her hands behind her back and closed her lips over the glass. Oliver groaned out loud. Fuck, that was hot. No wonder this shot was so beloved by men and boys everywhere.
She threw it back like a champ, though Oliver had to catch the shot glass when she was done. Felicity came up coughing as she swiped her arm across her mouth.
Oliver pulled her to him before she could catch her breath, too in awe to do anything but praise, "You are spectacular!"
He tipped her head back and tasted whip cream and Baileys on her lips. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite tastes. He pulled her up, straddling his lap, cupping her ass, holding her against him in the high stool.
When Felicity started grinding down in a slow but steady rhythm on his already hard cock, Oliver almost lost it. He was so done with foreplay. He picked her up and set her on the counter, attacking her neck with his teeth as his hand found its way under her skirt.
"Oliver, I think…"
And Oliver had no idea how Felicity was thinking at all between the alcohol and the…everything else, but, clearly, he wasn't trying hard enough. He ran his palm up her thigh, his thumb finding the edge of her panties
"This isn't the plan," Felicity moaned, even as her head fell back and her legs spread. "I had a plan."
"Later," Oliver growled, running his stubble over her upper chest in a way he knew Felicity liked, wishing this dress was a little less professional. His free hand ran over her back. Did this thing have a zipper or buttons?
"No. I think…I think I forgot something…"
Felicity let out a long, low moan as Oliver fingers found their way under her panties. He was just congratulating himself for his victory when she caught him off guard, shoving him off of her, making him stumble.
"Wait! I forgot. I forgot your surprise!"
Oliver found himself standing in the middle of the kitchen wondering what the hell just happened. "Isn't this the surprise?" he moaned, gesturing to the counter littered with bottles and trying not to get irritated in his frustration.
"No!" Felicity whimpered, looking genuinely distraught. "And I forgot. I was supposed to do it before we started drinking so much."
His irritation melted away in the face of her unhappiness. The last thing he wanted was Felicity to be upset. Oliver placed gentle hands on her thighs. "It's okay, we can do it later—"
"No. Now." Felicity grabbed onto his shoulders and jumped off the counter. It was all Oliver could do to keep her from falling as she landed precariously on the floor.
"Okay then…now." Oliver sighed. It didn't seem like he had much of a choice anyway.
Felicity crouched down and called to the dog, "Locksley, baby, come to Mommy."
Oliver's head fell back and he groaned. He hated when she did that. How were they going to teach Locksley that they were in charge if Felicity persisted in acting like he was their child?
"Locksley, remember how we practiced?" Felicity cupped his muzzle in her hands and looked him in the eye. She did realize he wasn't a person, didn't she? "Now go get Daddy's present." She pointed off to the Livingroom and the puppy bounded off.
"Fe-li-ci-ty," Oliver moaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "I'm not his Daddy."
"Of course, you are," Felicity waved off his words dismissively, while, simultaneously, giving Oliver her other hand to help her stand.
"He's a dog. We're people." Why was this so hard for her to understand?
"And we adopted him." Felicity didn't even bother to look at Oliver, she was watching her 'baby' in the Livingroom. "Come on, sweetie. Gooood boy!" She clapped and Locksley came prancing back with a long flat box in his mouth.
It was damn impressive and Oliver wanted to praise him too, but he had a point to make. "We're Locksley's owners. Not his parents."
"Shush, you'll hurt his feelings."
"He doesn't speak English. Or…Human. He doesn't have feel…" Oliver broke off as Locksley bounded over to him and presented him the box. It was so cute and the puppy looked so hopeful…Oliver couldn't help but smile, a swell of pride forming in his chest. "Hey, there, buddy. What do you have there?"
Sitting in a kitchen chair, Oliver easily took the box from his teeth. It was barely even marked. Oliver scratched Locksley's ear and the dog closed his eyes in bliss. "Good boy. Good boy."
He was handing Locksley a treat when Felicity said, "Such a proud Pa-pa," smothering a giggle behind her hand.
Oliver threw her a withering glare (at least, he hoped it was. She looked far from withered), warning, "Fe-li-ci-ty…"
"You know…they say dogs are practice children." Felicity was rocking on her feet and smiling just like the child she was referencing.
Rolling his eyes, Oliver turned his eyes back to the currently more sensible member of the family. The dog. "I didn't get a practice child. I got a fierce protector. Isn't that right, buddy?"
Felicity just patted Oliver's shoulder, saying condescendingly, "I'm sure our human children will be that too."
And after that, even with the mocking tone, Oliver just couldn't find the heart to argue anymore. He just felt so…much. He tipped his face up to Felicity and smiled. "I love you."
He grabbed her hand to pull Felicity onto his lap, but she protested, "Wait, silly. Open it."
"Oh right," Oliver muttered, feeling rather silly, holding the present like an idiot. He pulled at the red ribbon and lifted off the top. Then froze. "It's a key."
"Mmmhmm."
Oliver blinked, stupidly. But he was a little bit drunk and his heart was starting to roar in his ears, so maybe that was understandable. "It looks like a key to the Loft."
"Mmmhmm."
"I already have a key to the Loft."
"Yes. But you refuse to use it."
Oliver swallowed. He didn't want to jump to conclusions. Conclusions were dangerous. He needed to be sure. "But I used it today—"
"Oh, for God's sake." Felicity threw up her hands. "You are slow on the uptake today." But still Oliver could only stare up at her, his heart in his throat. "I knew we should have done this before the drinking. It's a symbol, Oliver."
Blowing out a breath. Oliver braced himself and asked in a pathetically small voice, "You're asking me to move back in?"
"Yes."
It was a simple word, but it brought tears to his eyes and Oliver had trouble looking away from the key. It had Akita keychain and a green ribbon. They had talked about this, but he…he had really tried not to presume anything. Not to get his hopes too high.
Felicity's hand rubbed circles on Oliver's back. "I figure with me going back to work at PT, we wouldn't get to spend as much time together. It seemed silly to waste it by sleeping in separate places. Plus, it's not good for Locksley to see his parents separated," she tried for a joke, but it fell a little flat. He appreciated it, though.
Oliver cleared his throat. "You think, we're, um…that we've had enough time?" Because, frankly, the idea of messing this up, again, was terrifying.
"Oliver?" Felicity asked softly. "What number date is this?"
Automatically, without even pausing to think, Oliver replied, "Thirty-one."
He felt Felicity's hand on his chin, urging him up to look at her. Oliver was rewarded with the sweetest smile. "Don't you think it's time to stop counting?"
"I like counting. It…" Oliver had no idea what it was. He didn't even know why he was arguing with her. "I don't know. I guess, it just feels like I…we're accomplishing something." Like the higher the number went, the more likely it would stick this time.
Tilting her head to the side, Felicity's smile wobbled a bit. "When are you planning to stop?"
"Counting?" Honestly? Oliver bit his lip. "When I die? Hopefully, at age 86, in my sleep with you lying next to me in our bed?"
Great, now Felicity was teary-eyed too. This was not what Oliver intended. He didn't know what he intended. But this wasn't it.
But then Felicity ran her nails through his stubble in a way that always soothed him deep in his bones, murmuring, "Don't you tell me you're not related to Locksley when you look at me like this," and Oliver was finally able to crack a smile. "I'm ready for you to move back home. Are you ready?"
"Yes," Oliver croaked, nodding for good measure, just in case it wasn't decisive enough.
God, he wanted to come home.
The music changed. Some sappy love song that Oliver didn't know the words to. "Dance with me?"
Felicity looked a little taken aback by the request. "Since when do you dance?"
But Oliver was already dragging Felicity out of the kitchen into a wide open space in the center of the Loft. "Since now," he murmured, pulling her into his arms.
The mix cooperated and played one sentimental song after another. It was perfect and Oliver had no desire to do anything except stay like this forever. Swaying to stupid love songs. Felicity's hand curled in his. His palm on the small of her back. Her cheek resting on his chest. The smell of her hair tickling his nose as they dance in their Loft. Theirs. While their dog watched lazily from the premium puppy bed that they'd picked out together.
They didn't talk. They didn't really have to. Sometimes, they sang lyrics to each other when they seemed to fit. It was pretty damn sappy, but Oliver figured the fifteen or so shots of alcohol his girl had fed him were as good an excuse as any. Plus, who would know? He could be as sappy as he wanted in their home.
Felicity's hand had just started to wander down to Oliver's ass, her nose nuzzling into his chest in a way that told him that she may finally be ready to move this party upstairs, when his phone started to vibrate from his back pocket.
"Ignore it," Oliver told her, taking her lips again for a slow and lazy kiss. To emphasize his intention to do just that. Though in the back of his…slightly inebriated mind, he knew he couldn't ignore it. He was the mayor for fuck's sake.
Apparently, Oliver's even drunker girlfriend agreed, because she reached into his back pocket and slipped out the phone, only taking her lips from his when it was out and then she turned her head to glance at it.
"It's Thea."
Oh good. Not an emergency then. "Ignore it." Thea would understand.
But the look Felicity threw him said that she did not agree, so, frowning, Oliver took the phone.
"Hey, Speedy." Oliver tried very hard not to sound petulant when he answered. He wasn't sure he succeeded.
Thea barely got a word out before Felicity was pulling out of his arms, spurring Oliver to protest, "Hey, where you going?"
Felicity threw a wicked grin over her shoulder, calling out, far louder than she needed to, "I'm going to make me a Screaming Orgasm."
"Was that Felicity? Did she just say what I think she said?"
Oliver blanched. Lovely. Okay, time to focus on his sister. "I think we'd both be happier if you pretend you didn't hear what you thought you heard my girlfriend say."
"Tell her you had Sex with an Alligator," Felicity yelled.
"Fe-lici-ity!"
Thea's laughter bubbled out over the phone. "What on Earth is going on over there?"
Giving up, Oliver walked onto the balcony, out of sight (and, hopefully, sound) of the kitchen. "Felicity is trying her hand at Mixology. That the art of—"
"I know what Mixology is, Ollie. I owned a bar, remember?"
Oh yeah. Oliver took a deep breath and looked out over the city. The sun was just starting to set. "So, how are you? Everything okay?" Hopefully, the answer was 'yes.' Because as much as he loved his sister, he hoped this would be a short conversation.
"Fine. Weather's nice. Just calling to say 'hello,' I guess."
And as much as Oliver wanted to take her at her word…Thea sounded lonely. He took a deep breath and fought the need to fix it for her. "You know you can come home anytime, right? You don't have to be 'Speedy'. We can reopen Verdant. You can…go to college. I'll get you a job a City Hall. Anything you want." He wasn't trying to run her life, but he needed her to know that there were options.
"Thank you, Ollie. I appreciate that, but…I got another lead on Roy, so…"
Ah. That changed everything. "Say no more. I get it. Is there anything we can do to help?"
Thea chuckled. "It's nice to hear you say 'we' again." And Oliver flushed, because he hadn't even realized he'd said that. "And, actually, there was something I wanted to run by Felicity, but somehow, I don't think now is the time."
"Honestly," Oliver grimaced, chuckling softly as he peeked into the Loft for a glimpse of Felicity. "I don't think she'd be much help right now."
Thea's laughter rang out again and Oliver smiled. He loved hearing her laugh almost as much as he did Felicity. "Oh, I want to see drunk Felicity. Why can't I see drunk Felicity?"
"When you come home," and Oliver hoped it would be soon, even better if it was with Roy in tow, "I'm sure she'll be happy to show off her new Mixology skills." Then he imagined his sister drinking a Royal Fuck or a Leg Spreader. "You'll need a different theme, though."
"Theme?"
"Never mind."
The silence over the other side of the line told Oliver she was waiting for him to say more, but it just wasn't going to happen. Finally, Thea gave up and said, "You guys sound like you're doing well."
Oliver sighed, feeling that dopy, stupid love-sick expression spread across his face again. Thea couldn't see it, so why fight it. "Yeah. Yeah, we are."
"You've got that stupid Felicity-Smoak-is-my-Sun-and-Stars look, don't you?'
Dammit. "Shut up."
Again with the laughter. Oliver liked it a little less this time.
"Just swear that you won't get married without me."
Oliver rolled his eyes. "I swear."
"I mean it. I can hear you rolling your eyes at me. You get the urge to elope, you call me. I'll meet you—"
"Speedy. Not gonna happen. We're doing it right this time. One step at a time." One careful step at a time.
"Ollie…" Thea paused, seeming to search for words, "you know…anyway that you do it will be right. Because it's you and Felicity."
Oliver's breath hissed and his eyes burned. He wished…he wished he could believe her. But he'd come too close to losing Felicity to take anything for granted this time around. "Thanks, Speedy."
"Hey, ask Felicity to call me in the morning about the Roy lead thingy, kay? After she's slept off her hangover?"
Chuckling, Oliver shook his head again. He really hoped it wasn't going to be as bad as all that. "Will do."
As he hung up, he slid open the balcony door with a smile on his face and made his way to the kitchen, looking forward to discovering what sort of concoction Felicity managed to create this time. He was thinking he'd maybe ask for a Sit on My Face. Then, possibly, ask her if she wanted a demonstration.
But Felicity wasn't there. Though the Sex with an Alligator was suspiciously empty.
"Felicity?"
She didn't answer, but Oliver found her seconds later, sprawled out of the couch, curled around Locksley. Sound asleep.
Damn.
Oliver couldn't even be disappointed, they both looked so friggen cute. Besides, he got to be there when Felicity woke up. And the time after that as well.
"Locksley, off," Oliver said in a firm whisper, and to his credit, the puppy obeyed immediately, even wagging his tail as he did so. "I'm not giving you a treat," he told the dog. "You shouldn't have been on the couch in the first place."
Turning to Felicity, Oliver slipped his arms between her and couch and lifted her into his arms. Luckily, he was sober enough carry her, after all. He only got an incomprehensible murmur from her before she snuggled into his chest with a soft snore.
Once he got her to her…their bedroom, (damn that sounded good) he striped her down to her panties and covered her up with the blanket. Hands on his hips, Oliver stared down at his beautiful girl and shook his head. Now what? It was barely half past seven. The sun hadn't even set.
He turned to Locksley, standing loyally next to him. They could be back by the time she woke up and a little exercise would clear the alcohol faster. They had all the time in the world.
"Come on, Locksley, how about you go on a pizza run with Daddy?"
Leg Spreader
1 1⁄4 oz. Midori melon liqueur
1 1⁄4 oz. Malibu rum
6 oz. pineapple juice
2 dashes 7-up
Pour everything on ice, Stir enjoy.
Wyoming Leg Spreader
2 oz. Coke
1 oz. Grain Alcohol
2 oz. Raspberry Liqueur
Pour everything on ice, Stir.
Slow Comfortable Screw
1 oz. sloe gin
1/2 oz. Southern Comfort® peach liqueur
orange juice
Royal Fuck
2 parts Crown Royal® Canadian whisky
1-part Sour Apple Pucker
1-part Cranberry Juice
Three-Legged Monkey
1 oz. Crown Royal® Canadian whisky
1 oz. amaretto almond liqueur
1 oz. pineapple juice
Pop My Cherry
1/2 oz. cherry vodka
1/4 oz. triple sec
1/4 oz. orange juice
Liquid Viagra
I gotta recommend against this one, over 21 or not. It's just a health hazard
1 shot Jägermeister® herbal liqueur
1/3 can Red Bull® energy drink
1-900-FUK-MEUP
1/2 oz. Absolut Kurant
1/4 oz. Grand Marnier
1/4 oz. Chambord
1/4 oz. Midori Melon Liqueur
1/4 oz. Malibu Coconut Rum
1/4 oz. Amaretto
1/2 oz. Cranberry Juice
1/4 oz. Pineapple Juice
Shake ingredients in a glass filled with ice cubes.
Strain and serve in a Whiskey Sour Glass.
Fuzzy navel
1-part peach schnapps
1-part orange juice
Sex with an Alligator
1/2 oz. raspberry liqueur
1 oz. melon liqueur
2 oz. sweet & sour mix
1/2 oz. Jägermeister
Pour the melon liqueur and sweet and sour mix into a shaker.
Fill with ice, shake, and strain into a chilled martini glass.
Then, pour some raspberry liqueur and top it off with Jägermeister.
Buttery Nipple
1 oz. DeKuyper® Buttershots liqueur
1/2 oz. Irish cream
Slippery nipples
1/2 oz. Bailey's® Irish cream
1/2 oz. butterscotch schnapps
Sex Machine
1.5 oz. Coffee Liqueur
1.5 oz. Irish Cream
Screaming Orgasm
1 oz. vodka
1 1/2 oz. Bailey's® Irish cream
1/2 oz. Kahlua® coffee liqueur
Sit on My Face
1/3 oz. Kahlua® coffee liqueur
1/3 oz. Frangelico® hazelnut liqueur
1/3 oz. Bailey's® Irish cream
Blowjob
1/4 oz. Bailey's® Irish cream
1/2 oz. amaretto almond liqueur
Deep Throat
1/2 oz. Bailey's® Irish cream
1/2 oz. Kahlua® coffee liqueur
1/2 oz. whipped cream
Cock Sucking Cowboy
Two parts butterscotch Schnapps
One part Baileys
AN:
This chapter was a lot of fun to write, for a lot of reasons. When I first wrote it, I thought it would be fine that I had never tried most of the drinks found here. But as I wrote, I decided it just wasn't good writing to not do the proper research. So I bought out the liqueur store, and while my kids were in "grandma camp," my husband and I slowly tried almost every drink here.
I've written reviews for them and will post them tonight on Tumblr, if you want to know what to try. (Off the top of my head, I recommend the Leg Spreader, the Sex With an Alligator and the Cock Sucking Cowboy). Let me know if you give any a try or send me a picture!
Thank you to all the lovely reviewers! Thank you to Rayna for the beautiful cover art! Thank you to ireland1733 for the awesome chapter art, which she never seems to think is good enough and gets better with every chapter! And finally to Fairytalehearts for her fantastic beta work!
Thanks for reading!
Emmy