Work Text:
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
'Til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
.
She's going to kill Barry. Or the Monitor. Or whoever the frak did this.
Being woken by a call from Digg telling her, "Just leaving the manor. We'll pick you up in 30 minutes," was confusing enough. Waking in her old apartment? That was pretty trippy, yeah, but what really threw her was how normal her boobs felt.
She could tell she'd slept unusually well, so they should be full, hard, and leaking all over the place. Instead, they are small and perky and… Wait.
Felicity jerks up in bed and unlocks her phone. The date has to be wrong, of course it's wrong, right? She opens her homepage and the feed is full of articles about the new particle accelerator at Star Labs.
"No, no, ohh no."
Not to mention this phone is old . Like, it pains her to hold it. It's the phone itself that convinces her. The phone and the boobs.
Ugh, time travel. It's all she can do not to hop a train to Central City and give the Flash a piece of her mind. Only, Barry ISN'T the Flash yet, so it would be like berating an innocent and very confused puppy.
Also, it could seriously mess with the space-time continuum.
Felicity needs to play it cool, she really does. She's seen enough Star Trek and Eureka and Quantum Leap to know that you do NOT mess with the timeline. Anything could happen! You could save somebody only to go home and find that the nerd everyone laughs at is now your boss. (Okay, that really did happen in her life, but seriously.)
She has to maintain the status quo, even though her status is very much NOT quo at the moment. She needs to figure out what she did on this day... six ?...years ago.
And then she realizes that she now has only fifteen minutes to be ready for whatever it was, uh... is , that Digg is picking her up for.
She glances around the room and frak there it is. Her suitcase. One look at the contents tells her exactly what is happening today. She has fourteen, no thirteen, minutes to get ready for a plane ride to Russia.
.
Felicity is in such a hurry to dress and grab last minute essentials (she is bringing leggings this time, not nylons, thank you very much), that they are halfway to the airfield before she remembers…
"Isabel!" She blurts before she can stop herself. She'd been trying, mostly successfully, to keep her mouth shut and her racing thoughts to herself for this exact reason.
She hadn't been able to make eye contact with either man before, but Diggle and Oliver are both staring at her now, her outburst having interrupted their strategy session.
"Um, shouldn't you, we, well I, have let her know you'll be out of the office?" she covers.
Oliver shakes his head, "Better to ask forgiveness than permission," he tells her with an amused smile. And she forces herself to return it and then looks out the window so he can't see the furious scowl that immediately replaces it because if that doesn't sum up Oliver Queen in ONE aphorism, nothing does.
Sometimes her husband is an ass.
And now Felicity has to clamp down on her sudden sadness. She misses him. He's sitting right across from her, but he's not him . And worse, he's not hers.
Okay, that's not the worst, the worst is that she has to share him with Isabel frakking Rochev in the near future.
When the bride of FrankenSlade arrives, Felicity skips her Tahiti joke, (that couldn't possibly interfere with the future could it? Butterfly effect? She's getting a headache.), but Isabel still manages to be a condescending witch as soon as the boys are out of ear shot.
Felicity isn't intimidated by Isabel anymore, obviously, cause there's something about knowing all of an enemy's secrets that just takes their power away (that, and watching them fly over the hood of the vehicle you're driving), but she's scared she's going to mess everything up if she uses any of the many after-the-fact comebacks she's thought of over the years.
It's going to be a very long flight.
.
Getting ditched by her boys at the airport again does nothing to lighten her mood, but she pulls it together and later manages to ask the right questions to get Digg to open up and tell them about his history with Lyla. She wishes she could spare him the pain of what's coming, but she knows it's a turning point in the couple's relationship and she won't do anything to jeopardize their romance.
She's starting to feel a little like a golden retriever. Good Felicity. Stay Felicity. Speak Felicity. She's a bystander in her life, making few actual choices, simply acting out the part she'd written years ago.
It's strange because those choices are her, but also not her. And she's changed enough that she can't just trust her instincts. Instead, she has to analyse and think ahead for every conversation, trying to remember what she did and said, and when she can't remember, she feels like she has to try and manipulate everyone and everything into the right outcome.
It's exhausting.
It's only after Digg is safely arrested and she is in bed for the night that everything catches up to her.
Her brain won't shut off. She doesn't know what happened or how she time traveled. Does it even count as time traveling? If it was actual time travel, wouldn't there be two Felicitys running around?
Wouldn't she be in her 2019 post partum body, instead of this younger, tighter one?
She finds herself actually wishing for her old body, stretch marks and all. That body was the real her. Yeah, it had been shot, drugged, paralyzed, and stretched. But it had also coded a million lines, saved a city over and over, made love to the greatest man, and grown a beautiful baby.
Truthfully, she's angry with this younger body. She has energy when she should be tired. Her breasts produce no milk and thus do not change throughout the day. This body has no daughter. It has no Mia. It's just wrong and that wrongness feels like a betrayal.
Felicity would give anything to be in her soft skin again. Yeah, she feels a little weird about missing the bread dough belly, but it was hers. The last time she and Oliver were together...
Oliver.
She's been keeping past and future Oliver separate in her head. This one's her husband, that one's just some guy.
The day's been so busy and overwhelming that it hasn't even been hard. Tomorrow, she wouldn't have the buffer of Digg. There was going to be a lot of Oliver and Felicity sitting and waiting in cars together. She would have to look at him and smell him and try to make eye contact and conversation.
She is dreading being in closer proximity to him, but she is positively nauseous about his upcoming proximity to Isabel. Would it really screw up the timeline that much if Oliver skipped just one of his incredibly stupid flings? The worst one?
The one he has in common with his own father? Barf.
Felicity stays up far too late, unable to sleep, alternating between planning her next steps in minute detail and wrestling with the implications of what she is contemplating.
She knows she's obsessing, really, how hard can it be to cockblock your future husband? But obsessing about the present keeps her from torturing herself about the future, so it's kind of a bittersweet relief. She has no Mia here, but she does have an Oliver...sort of.
She's had no idea how to go about missing her Oliver. When he left with the Monitor she was devastated and, frankly, angry. She knew he'd done the right thing, but it still hardcore sucked .
The waiting was horrible. Knowing Oliver was out there somewhere, trying to save the universe, heading straight for his death? It was a burden to know, so she tries to forget. And of course, that makes her feel guilty, because who tries to forget that the love of their life is still out there somewhere?
But the alternative is grieving, and she absolutely will not grieve for her husband while he is still alive . So really, she's been stuck, mentally, and Mia was her saving grace… Until now.
When Felicity finally succumbs to jetlag and exhaustion over an hour later, her head aches and her pillow is soaking wet.
.
Of course she oversleeps. She rushes through her morning routine, having just enough time for makeup, but none for icing her puffy face. Oliver doesn't say anything, but she can tell he noticed when they met at the door of his suite, and he keeps stealing glances at her in the car on the way to meet Anatoly.
She takes the trip to calm herself. She breathes deeply, does a few of the anxiety exercises she's mastered over the years. She finds that it's more difficult than it should be. It's like this younger body knows it's not that disciplined yet.
Still, gradually, she's able to center herself. When they arrive, Oliver asks her if she's alright. She can't help feeling a little thrill at his concern. It's a good reminder that deep down Oliver Queen has always been the sweet and caring man she's married.
She shrugs and makes an excuse about how she never sleeps well in a hotel bed, and then gives herself a mental pat on the back for falling in love with him in the first place.
She'd always had a good feeling about him. And she's so grateful she trusted that instinct the day he showed up in her office with a suspicious laptop.
Before Oliver gets out to greet Anatoly, he places a hand on her arm, looks her in the eye, and says, "If you need to talk, just let me know." Then he gets out of the car and she has to bite her lip hard to keep control.
She hasn't seen her husband in a month, she's somehow reliving her past, and she's so not okay that his friendly gesture is enough to make her want to simultaneously burst into tears and jump his bones.
She is so screwed.
.
The illegal purchase of the Russian police vehicle goes off without any unexpected (for Felicity) hitches, but as they drive back to the hotel, she realizes that she forgot to charge her tablet the night before.
Frak frak frakkity-frak in a handbasket.
She's going to need it later at the prison. Now she has to get up to her hotel room and plug the damn thing in instead of following Oliver to the bar, like she'd originally planned, and then hurry back before Isabel sinks her claws into him.
She ends up being glad this happened, because she takes the opportunity to drop off her winter layers, pop in her contacts (she'd been too rushed this morning,) and smooth her hat hair. She takes a quick glance in the mirror along with a quick breath.
Operation Roachectomy is go.
.
Felicity is flustered when she gets to the lounge. Her plan to shadow Oliver won't work now, so she goes to the bar and orders a shot of vodka (like the cool kids), then turns around and leans back, casually , pretending to notice them for the first time (looking too damn cozy on a sofa). She's at a loss until she notices how guilty Oliver looks upon seeing her, and then her heart soars. With a slightly smug smile she crosses the room to join them. This is going to be fun.
"Miss Smoak, how do you find Russia? I imagine this your first international trip?" Isabel digs, obviously trying to make Felicity seem unsophisticated and...poor?
Felicity murmurs an affirmative and plops herself in the chair on Isabel's side, completely ignoring the empty spot on the couch beside Oliver. "But you were born here, yes?" She inquires in return.
Isabel blinks, the only indication of her surprise. Then she arches an eyebrow. "I'm impressed by your knowledge. Then again, you seem like the type of girl who always does her homework. I'm sure Mr. Queen appreciates your," she cocks her head as if searching for the right word, " thoroughness ."
Oliver takes a breath, but Felicity jumps in before he can speak. "Research is my specialty, yes. You'd be amazed at how helpful it is to have a proper understanding of a person's background , if you're going to be working with them."
Isabel frowns at Felicity not taking her bait and tries again. "And just what is it about your background, Miss Smoak, that has led you to take your current position with Mr. Queen?"
Seriously, is the woman incapable of speaking without innuendo? At least Felicity does it by accident .
"This company is very important to me, Ms. Rochev, and it's important to Oliver. As his friend and his employee, I'm extremely grateful to do my part to help strengthen Queen Consolidated."
"Well I'm sure Oliver appreciates that level of fidelity ."
"Isa-" Oliver tries to jump in, but is ignored by both women.
"It continues to be both a challenging and rewarding experience, " Felicity returns.
"Yes, we've all been impressed by how well you've kept up with Oliver's demands ."
At this, Isabel gives her a cruel little smile, not realizing she's given Felicity a perfect entry. Felicity smiles back, leans in and softly says, "Well, I'm sure you know much more about how demanding the Queen men can be than I do, Ms. Rochev."
Just then the waiter brings her drink. She takes it, knocks it back, and replaces the glass on the tray, maintaining eye contact with Isabel the entire time.
Isabel stands suddenly, and Oliver and Felicity follow suit. The other woman makes an excuse about a conference call she's expecting, and leaves.
The second she's gone, Felicity starts coughing. "How do you drink this stuff!"
Oliver turns to Felicity, eyes laughing, but lips pursed in curiosity.
"What did you say to her?"
Felicity shrugs. "Please."
Then she winks and sits down in Isabel's recently vacated spot next to Oliver.
Oliver is smiling his proud smile at her as he sits, and suddenly, Felicity doesn't give a damn about the space-time continuum.
It's not enough to keep Isabel away from Oliver, she wants him for herself.
And she wants him today. Now.
But first she needs to clear Isabel from the air.
"Really, Oliver, the she-devil?"
"Is she always like that with you?" he asks, looking uncomfortable.
Felicity just sighs and shakes her head. "It's ok, Oliver, I get it."
"Get what?"
"You and Isabel seemed pretty into each other when I came in."
"I-"
"And I get it."
"Felicity we were just talking."
The waiter brings them another round, and Felicity takes one, but continues.
"I know that after Helena and McKenna and, well, Laurel , it's gotta be hard to get back out there again. No strings attached hate-sex probably seems like a safe bet."
Oliver nearly chokes on his drink. "Excuse me?"
Felicity laughs it off. "Sorry, I know we aren't really the type of friends who talk about stuff like this."
She lifts her glass toward him. "How about this: What happens in Russia stays in Russia?"
Oliver shakes his head, but smiles and says, "I'll drink to that." And clinks his shot glass to hers.
"For the record," Felicity says, sipping her vodka this time, "I think you shouldn't have resort to Isabel Rochev of all people."
Oliver sighs. "Because of the life I lead, I just think that it's better to not be with someone that I could really care about."
"Bullshit," Felicity declares.
"What?"
"Come on , you are assuming way too much. There are a couple billion ladies on this planet and you think that none of them would work with your lifestyle?"
"Being around me puts people in danger, Felicity."
"People being around you helps mitigate the danger, Oliver . Didn't you learn that from the night of the undertaking? Digg had your back and that's why you defeated Malcolm. And it's not like you forced him. He wanted to be there. We both do. We both love Starling and we're not the only ones. I hope someday you really understand that. I came for Walter, but I stayed for the mission, for the good that we do every day."
She lays a hand on his arm to emphasize what she's saying. "Being around you has saved so many people Oliver."
Oliver gives her that soft look of his, and she knows that he wants to believe her. It's that vulnerability that speaks to Felicity in this moment. She wants him, but she also wants to be there for him. To show him how worthwhile he is as a man, not just as a warrior.
She removes her hand. She needs to touch him again, but first she needs an excuse.
.
Felicity has never had what one would term feminine wiles, but this is Oliver, and she knows Oliver. She knows what he likes, what makes him crazy. She also knows what his worries were at this time in his life, so she'd set out very deliberately to allay those concerns, and now she just needs to drive him totally insane.
She plays it like she's just being overly friendly due to the vodka. She punctuates her comments with small touches to his knee or arm. She lets herself relax so that their sides or legs touch occasionally.
When the moment is right, she looks curiously over his shoulder so that he'll turn to see whatever has drawn her attention, and she takes that opportunity to "accidentally"a trip a waiter so that some wine ends up all over Oliver's suit jacket.
He's instantly on his feet, and Felicity's instantly all helpful apologies and suggestions. She insists on removing his coat, she knows just how to get the stain out.
Of course, she also knows just where to let her hands linger.
They head up to Oliver's suite to take care of the coat, and Felicity purposely chooses the more crowded elevator so that they'll be forced into each other's personal space. It's warm with the heating system blowing and all the people. Oliver quickly loosens his tie and undoes his top button (Felicity does not stare at his adam's apple), as well as rolls up his shirt sleeves (okay she definitely stares at the forearms).
Fortunately, her room is closer to the elevator, so she diverts him there and takes the coat into the tiny bathroom attached to her tiny room.
When she returns, he's looking out the window.
Instead of joining him, Felicity sits on the bed "There," she says, "Should be fine by morning."
Oliver turns, and immediately she knows he's affected by the sight of her on the bed. He clears his throat and crosses over to her. "I should head to my room and get ready."
"Can I ask you a question first?"
Oliver puts his hand in his pockets (a defense mechanism she recognizes) and shrugs.
"Shoot."
"Why don't you ever talk about your time away?" She hurries on before he can answer, "I mean, I know lots of terrible things happened to you, but talking about them is supposed to help, right? And seriously, you don't even talk about the mundane stuff like how you learned herbal remedies or...entire languages."
Oliver clears his throat again and sits beside her, careful to leave some space.
"Felicity, during those five years...the things I had to do to survive... The person I had to become. I've tried to lock that person away, to keep it separate from who I am now."
He shakes his head.
"That was a time of pain and darkness and I don't want that darkness to spread. I mean, look at you. You are light and life and it would be incredibly selfish of me to diminish that light in any way."
Felicity almost laughs. "Is that really how you see me?"
Oliver nods. "I think I've already been enough if a bad influence on you, don't you think?"
This time Felicity's does laugh.
"Oliver! You think you're the only one who's endured pain and darkness? My parents split when I was seven because my father is a wanted criminal. He's still on the run!
"As for me being "light," up until 4 years ago, I was a goth, black hair and everything. My boyfriend committed suicide because of something I did, and so I abandoned a bunch of amazing career opportunities and applied for a grunt IT position at a company in the most overcast city in America!"
Oliver's hand finds her elbow. "See, that's just what I mean. You've risen above all that, and I've pulled you down into my mission and now you're a criminal."
"It's adorable that you think you were my first crime."
His hand pulls away and he looks at her with furrowed brows.
"Oliver," she says, laying her fingertips on his forearm, just where his rolled sleeve ends. "How did you think I learned to hack? I was part of a hacktivist group that participated in all sorts of illegal things."
While she speaks, Felicity slowly moves her finger tips under the edge of his sleeve and lightly scratches the skin there with her nails. "While you were running around the streets of Hong Kong, I was creating a supervirus and hacking the DEA."
"What!"
Felicity immediately takes her hand back and flinches. Frak .
"How did you know I was in Hong Kong?"
"Okay, okay, let's back up here, I have a perfectly reasonable and logical explanation!"
She tries to stand, but Oliver pulls her back down. "Fel-i-ci-ty," he practically growls, "Did you hack ARGUS?"
"I, I, I…" she's at a loss, so she rolls with it. "Yes! Yes, I'm sorry! It was before we were really friends and I only looked at a little bit of your file and then, well, I got to know you and realized that I had probably over-stepped a teensy bit…"
Oliver looks ashen. "So do you know… Did you read about…?"
"Shrieve?"
Oliver hunches over and rubs his hands over his face.
"Oh, Oliver." Felicity places a hand on his thigh, not thinking at all about seduction, simply wanting to comfort him.
"Every choice is built upon what has preceded it. For so long, for years , your choices were taken away, and you were forced to do whatever it took to survive. You were honed and trained and manipulated by your circumstances, and before that you were raised to be selfish and self-serving."
"That's no excuse, Felicity"
"No, it's not, and I'm not saying that, but It's no surprise that you've made terrible mistakes, that you've made the wrong choices, when everything and everyone around you had pushed you into them.
"What is surprising, what is shocking frankly, is the fact that you have managed to rise above all that. You are a kind, caring person dedicated to his family, his friends, and his city."
"If I've become anything close to that, it's because of you , Felicity." At this, Oliver reaches out to touch her face, but, stopping himself at the last minute, he lets his fingers slide through her hair instead.
She smiles at him and quietly says, "and Digg."
Then he smiles back and nods his head. "And Digg."
They are staring at each other. Felicity realizes that her fingertips are between his thighs. Her heart is beating furiously, and she has to hold herself back from kissing him. Instead, she lets her hand drift a tiny bit higher, hearing the hitch in his breath when she does.
"Oliver, I don't give a damn about who you were or what you've done, but I am constantly astounded by the amazing man you are now ."
This time, when Oliver reaches out, he lets his fingers rest gently on the side of her face. He studies her, and whispers, "We can't do this."
Felicity swallows and presses her hand more firmly into his thigh.
"You forgot the rules," she tells him. "What happens in Russia…"
Oliver's jaw slackens and his eyes grow dark. "Are you sure?"
Felicity unconsciously parts her lips as she slowly nods.
And then he kisses her.
.
Within moments Felicity finds herself straddling his lap. Their motions are frantic, hurried partly by their upcoming departure, partly by the worry that if they slow down and think they might stop, but mostly by the need that has been building up between them since the moment Oliver saved Felicity from that landmine.
There is something so right about being in each other's arms, and Felicity, for one, feels like she's home.
She knows Oliver, knows what pleasure he takes in being a considerate lover, but she doesn't completely give him control. She is determined to give him everything, to show him what he deserves.
Their clothes are quickly discarded and, as Oliver presses her into the mattress, she hears him whisper, "Remarkable."
.
Oliver is fast asleep when the alarm on Felicity's phone chimes, much to her delight. He usually only sleeps like that after a really great orgasm.
She hates to wake him, but it's time to get ready to go. She's already cleaned up, but she shakes him awake before getting dressed, just cause she wants him to see her naked again. She needs to show him this completely unashamed side of herself if she wants to maintain the illusion that she isn't going to be clingy or embarrassed.
Also, she just likes the way he looks at her.
They dress quickly and head out to meet Anatoly. When they get into the police truck, she's tempted to climb in the back seat with Oliver, but decides it'd be pushing her luck.
Everything goes as it should. Anatoly bribes the guards, Felicity jams the phones, and Oliver backs up Digg, Lyla, and Deadshot.
On the way back, Digg kicks Lawton out of the truck, then Anatoly drops the other four off at the spot where Oliver had parked their hired car.
As the two Bratva murmur their goodbyes in Russian, Felicity watches John help Lyla into the back of the car with a tenderness that melts her heart. The sight gives her an idea, something she thinks the couple will appreciate, and something that will be to her advantage as well.
When they arrive at the hotel, Digg thanks them for their help. He slips his arm around Lyla's waist and Felicity steps forward.
"I was thinking," she begins, "that maybe we should switch rooms tonight. John, you and Lyla take mine, and I'll sleep in John's room in the suite. This way, you two will have more priva- I mean peace ! Yes, peace, cause you just broke out of prison, so yeah, peace and quiet is definitely what is on your minds, and Oliver totally snores…" She flaps her hands, and adds, "Or so I've heard! Cause of course I wouldn't actually...Please, anyone , feel free to jump in here and SAVE ME."
Digg and Lyla simply chuckle and head for the elevators. Felicity goes to follow, but feels a hand grab her elbow and pull her back.
"Felicity," Oliver practically purrs in her ear, "What are you up to?"
She shivers, and forces herself to focus.
"Look at them," she gestures to the other couple. "They need the space and," she's lowers her voice, "honestly, I wouldn't mind having some space with you too."
Oliver hesitates. "So we're not doing the 'What happens in Russia stays in Russia?"
Felicity turns and smiles at him.
"We're still in Russia."
.
The next morning they board the Queen Consolidated jet and Isabel scowls, but doesn't make a single inquiry about Lyla, which surprises the others, but makes Felicity gleeful since now she's certain Isabel is a little afraid of her and what she might know.
The other change is that the four friends spend the majority of the 14 hour flight totally unconscious. Apparently, none of them got any sleep the night before.
.
Oliver tells John to take the day off, then he drops Felicity off at her apartment and tells her she doesn't have to come in until ten.
Felicity appreciates the chance to shower in her own bathroom and put on her favorite polka-dot blouse before she heads to the office.
When she arrives, Oliver is already hard at work in his office, so she jumps right into files, emails, and the myriad of issues that have piled up while they were gone. By the time Oliver comes out to give her some files for Isabel, a couple hours have flown by.
"Speaking of Ms. Rochev," Felicity says, and Oliver freezes on his way back to his office. "I know I told you that I understand, but that's not entirely true."
Oliver turns around, silent and wary.
"In answer to your question about her behavior at the bar, yes, she is always like that. She's horrible to everyone in this building, especially me and especially you .
"So the part I don't understand is you placing so little value on yourself."
"Felicity-"
"Stop!" She rounds her desk and then walks over to him.
"Let me say this and then we never have to speak of it again."
Oliver folds his arms over his chest.
"You deserve to be with someone who sees you Oliver Queen." Lowering her voice, she leans in enough that the files brush against his arms. "I see you, Oliver, and you are worth seeing, so, next time you feel lonely or vulnerable or particularly stupid, promise me that instead of getting into bed with a poisonous viper like her, will you at least consider calling me instead?"
Felicity does not wait for a response, but she does make sure to let her hips sway just a bit more than usual as she leaves the room.
.
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
'Til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with
-Jim Croce
Fin