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The Green Arrow had many talents – but giving foot rubs definitely ranked in the top ten.
Quite handy when you were pregnant, really.
“Oh, yeah.” Felicity’s head fell back with a groan as his thumb dug into the arch of her foot. “That’s it.”
Oliver chuckled sleepily, head pressed against her shoulder with his eyes closed. “You’re as taut as a bowstring. What did you get up to?”
Hiding from explosions. Gunfights. Running from more explosions.
Just an average day on the job. No biggie.
“You know the team. Girl’s night out can get pretty intense.” She peered at her boots lying on the floor with a sigh. “Though I think I’m going to have to stop wearing heels pretty soon.”
Oliver slowly stretched her toes backward in her socks. “I don’t understand how you’re still walking around on stilettos at the precinct.”
Another groan as the tension drained out of her right foot. God, this man.
If they weren’t already married, she’d have proposed right then and there.
“I like pretty heels. And the height advantage it gives me in a room full of tall, intimidating cops is also a plus.”
“I know,” Oliver said, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Our closet’s full of them. Pretty sure we could open a museum if we want to.”
Felicity hummed, fingers trailing over the back of his neck. “Felicity Smoak’s Stylish Stiletto’s. It’s got a ring to it.”
Right then, Oliver’s stomach let out a whale call that echoed through the entire apartment.
They both laughed at the unexpectedness of it, and she found her stomach starting to gnaw at her again despite having had dinner with the girls in the bunker.
“You’re starving, yet you’re giving me foot rubs.” Felicity cupped his cheek, tilting his head up. “And you’re exhausted. What do you want me to order?”
Oliver’s eyes fluttered open, blue gaze softening as he looked up at her. Weariness dragged down his shoulders, the adrenaline leaving his body.
There were few things in this world she loved more than a sleepy Oliver.
Loved how his guards fell away completely, how he sought her presence and her affection without any hesitation. Easy smiles and even easier kisses given to her with a tenderness that left her reeling.
He’d always want her close, cuddling together in bed or on the couch while he whispered sweet nothings in her ear until they both fell asleep.
Hands running over her body not to seduce, but to soothe. To comfort and reassure.
A way for them to put the day’s events at rest, slowly shifting from the Green Arrow and Overwatch back to Oliver and Felicity.
Back to just husband and wife, finding comfort in each other after a long day at work.
Drinking in each other, feeling the bone-deep relief that they were alive and well.
Survived the day to fight another one.
“I could eat some Chinese.” Oliver nuzzled into the palm of her hand, and Felicity’s stomach gave a little flutter. “You want some?”
She pretended think, even though she already knew the answer. She was hungry – again. “I might get a snack or two.”
Or three. Or perhaps four.
Oliver laughed, a rumble in his chest that vibrated into her own, spreading joy. “Give me your phone. I’ll put in the order.”
“You sure?” Felicity rooted in her coat and handed him the cell phone. “You’re so tired, baby. I get to take care of you after dinner.”
With his free hand, Oliver reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. His thumb stroked over her cheekbone. “I’m fine, now that you’re here.”
Did he even know the things he did to her?
After seven years of knowing each other and a year and a half of marriage, he could still so easily sweep the rug from underneath her feet by saying such sweet things.
A bright smile overtook her face. “Of course you are. I’m awesome.”
He pecked a quick kiss to her lips, then dialed the number of their favorite take-out as he tugged her close against him with his other arm.
Felicity snuggled into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his scent.
Laundry softener, old spice aftershave and a faint hint of leather.
Mmm, still Oliver. Still hubby.
“Hi, good evening. Order for Oliver Queen, please. Yes, the Oliver Queen. Yes, I’m the Green Arrow.”
Felicity snorted, smoothing her hand up his chest. It would be a long time before she was used to people knowing who Oliver was.
And even longer before she got used to people pulling her aside and asking her the strangest things about her husband.
No, she wasn’t going to share his shoe size. Or which brand of toothpaste he used. Yes, she was very sure about it.
Putting his hand over the receiver, he asked her, “What do you want?”
“Spring rolls and prawn crackers. Oh, and some tofu dumplings if they have them!”
Oliver chuckled before putting his ear back to the phone. He gave the order. “How many dumplings? Uh, ten?”
“Twenty,” Felicity whispered in his ear, the prospect of food making her even hungrier. “And soy sauce.”
Oliver’s hand stroked languidly over her waist. “Yes, twenty. For main dishes we’ll take the mu shu pork and the orange chicken.”
Felicity peered up at him with big puppy eyes. “Can we have some fried rice, too? Please?”
Even though she felt like Godzilla with her gigantic order, she knew that between her pregnancy cravings and Oliver’s increased appetite after his Green Arrow duties to keep up his calorie intake, there wouldn’t be much left.
“And some fried rice, too, please.” Oliver pressed a kiss between her brows. “We get free fortune cookies with our order? That’s very kind, thank you.”
“Man, this night keeps getting better and better,” Felicity murmured happily.
“In half an hour? We’ll keep an eye on the doorbell. Thank you, have a nice night.”
Oliver put her phone on the coffee table, then held out his hand.
More cuddles?
Not getting the cue, Felicity placed her hand in his. “Hi?”
“Your other foot, Felicity,” Oliver laughed. “Can’t have one still all tensed up like that.”
“Oh, right.” She gave him a sheepish smile before stretching her leg. “Do your worst, husband.”
Forty minutes later, their gigantic order was dropped off by a high school student who stared a solid thirty seconds at Oliver before handing over the bags.
“Order for, uh, Mr. – Mr. Queen, sir!”
Both Oliver and the delivery boy seemed awkward and unsure what to do next, much to Felicity’s amusement.
Her husband could handle criminals, assassins and even aliens with practiced ease alike, yet dealing with an admiring teenager made him unsure.
What a dork.
“Thank you, uh,” Oliver said, squinting to read the name tag, “Tony! Thanks for the delivery.”
Tony stretched out his arms holding the white plastic bags, a dazed smile on his face. “I’m such a big fan, sir! I even voted for you. Thank you for saving our city!”
Even with only a view of his back, Felicity could see Oliver relax. See the tension leave his shoulders that had crept in when he’d opened the door
“You’re very welcome, Tony,” Oliver said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. Rooting around in his pocket, he dug out a hundred dollar bill. “Here. Keep the change. Have a good night.”
Tony’s eyes went wide. “Wow, thank you, sir! You’re awesome!”
Closing the door, Oliver wandered back to the couch with his arms full, seemingly pleased with himself.
Felicity rose to help him. “You really deserve to have more people compliment you.”
“That’s not why I do it,” Oliver said, taking white boxes out of the bag and putting them on the coffee table.
“I know. Doesn’t make you any less deserving, though.”
After it had been publicly revealed on nation-wide television that Oliver was the Green Arrow, the internet had exploded with a million different opinions, ranging from people praising him to high heavens to blatant death threats.
The teeniest, tiniest part of her had been glad he’d been in jail so didn’t have to face the whirlwind head on.
But even in witness protection, Felicity had seen how people presumed to know things about him.
Presumed to know who he was – what he’d been through.
Why he did the things he did.
It made her see red, made her want to track down those self-declared desk warriors and knock some sense into them with the nearest object.
Instead, she’d infected their computers and other digital devices with a destructive virus.
Effective, but not nearly as satisfying.
“The only person I need on my side is you.” Oliver smiled and pecked a quick kiss to her lips. “What do you want to eat first? What are you craving?”
“You. I mean, not you you – under normal circumstances, yes, but we’re both tired – what I meant is that you need to eat.” A sheepish smile spread over her face at her Freudian slip. “Come here.”
Gathering a bunch of throw pillows, she propped them up on the couch, creating a cozy little corner.
“There! VIP seat for Mr. Queen,” she said proudly, gesturing. “Now let me take care of you. It’s my turn.”
Oliver smiled and exhaled softly, exhaustion rounding the sharp edges of his body. With feline grace, he flopped down beside her and let out a groan.
Felicity rooted through the boxes until she found the twenty dumplings – and was extremely happy with her choice to ask for more – and pulled out a pair of chopsticks.
Settling the box in her lap, she pinched the biggest one between the chopsticks and held it out to him. “Open up.”
Like a baby bird, Oliver spread his mouth open as wide as he could. He chewed down with a satisfied noise, cheeks puffing out adorably.
God, he was so cute.
“There we go,” Felicity said, rubbing his knee. Then she propped one herself into her mouth. “Mmm, that’s good.”
A comfortable silence fell as she fed Oliver dumplings and spring rolls and polished some off herself.
The unguarded tenderness with which he watched her made her stomach flutter, and she kissed him multiple times over the course of their meal, tasting salt and soy sauce on his lips.
By the time she’d started handing him his mu shu pork, she said, “Laurel covered for me today.”
Oliver swallowed a mouthful before speaking, his knee pressed against her thigh. “How so?”
“Well, after Sara had gone back to the Waverider, Dinah, Laurel and I decided to toast to our success of the day in the bunker. With champagne.”
“Ah,” he said, grabbing a handful of prawn crackers and popping one in her mouth. “What did she do?”
Felicity hummed in appreciation as she chewed. “Well, the panic must have been apparent on my face, because she took my glass and proclaimed she deserved to have two after what happened today.”
Had Dinah noticed what was going on, or did she just chalk it up to Laurel’s quirks?
“I still can’t believe she figured it out before I did.” Oliver stroked her cheek. “But I’m happy she was there for you – today and before.”
She smiled sadly. “I’m going to miss her now she’s going back to Earth-2. Just like it felt we were becoming friends again.”
During her school career, she’d never had a lot of friends. Nobody wanted to hang out with you when you were two years younger than everyone and the teacher's pet.
Her first female friend in years had been Sara, but then she’d died and come back a year later only to start exploring space.
She’d grown closer with Laurel as she’d taken up her sister’s Black Canary mantle, but then they’d gone to Ivy Town, and a few months after their return to Starling she’d been killed by Darkh.
Thea had become a rock to rely upon, even after she’d broken off the engagement with Oliver.
A person to confide in, to laugh with, to complain to about her brother and exchange embarrassing stories. But then Thea had decided she needed some distance from the vigilante world, and now she was off with Roy and Nyssa to destroy Lazarus Pits all around the globe.
And she missed her sister-in-law, especially when Oliver was being his stubborn self. They couldn’t even have their regular phone calls because Thea was mostly in areas without cell service.
After restoring the fracture between their two teams, Dinah had grown back closer to her, though between being Black Canary and Captain of the SCPD, she didn’t have a lot of free time. The moments they shared were nice, but always much too short.
She hadn’t even been able to stay tonight because she’d been called in.
Maybe it was the hormones, but just thinking about it brought tears to Felicity’s eyes.
She snuck a finger beneath her glasses to wipe away the dampness.
“I know.” Oliver sat up and wrapped her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I know how hard it can be – and how lonely.”
Felicity sniffled, snuggling closer. “It is.”
“But if there’s one thing I’ve learned through the years, then it’s that people have a way of finding their way back to us. Even the ones we thought we’d lost.”
“I know,” she said, smoothing her hand up his chest. “I do, I’m just – I’m just a little emotional lately.”
A little was an understatement. Yesterday, she’d cried during a commercial because it showed cute puppies.
Nothing had happened to them, they were just frollicking around in a garden. Being little balls of fluff.
Oliver chuckled against her hair. “That’s okay. You’re making an entire human in there. And even though you get upset more quickly, it’s also easier to make you happy.”
By way of proving his point, he handed her a spring roll half-hidden beneath a napkin. She’d thought they’d eaten them all (her, mostly).
“Oh, I love you!” Felicity snatched it from his hands and stuffed it in her mouth. “I lowe you so mumch.”
She didn’t know if she was talking to her husband or the spring roll. Both, probably.
Oliver’s laugh grew even brighter, eyes crinkling at the corners in that adorable way. He wiped away some crumbs off her cheek. “My turn again. Some more orange chicken?”
Now it was Felicity's turn to act like a baby bird.
Twenty dumplings, ten spring rolls, an entire bag of prawn crackers and two large servings of mu shu pork and orange chicken later, Felicity contentedly lounged on the couch with Oliver’s head in her lap.
Running her fingers through his hair while he lay with his eyes closed, occasionally letting out a rumble of appreciation.
Sometimes, Oliver reminded her of a lion.
Basking in her presence with the lazy grace of a giant cat, immense strength and elegance at rest as he laid on her lap in a loose-limbed sprawl, yet capable of snapping into lethal action in a split-second.
To others he was noteworthy, impressive, even intimidating or frightening. Sometimes even the face of their nightmares.
But to Felicity, he was simply a big kitty.
Her big kitty, one she could boop and squish and kiss and cuddle to her heart’s desire, and Oliver would simply purr and huddle closer, savoring it all.
Woe anyone else who tried, though. The kitty had claws.
“What are you thinking about?” Oliver asked sleepily, her nails scratching lightly over his scalp.
Felicity hummed, his warm weight on her legs making her drowsy. “I’m thinking about putting cat ears on you.”
It truly was a testament to how long they’d known each other that Oliver didn’t even blink at the absurdity of her statement.
His laughter rumbled in his chest, bringing a smile to her own face. He peeled an eye open. “No tail?”
“Maybe,” Felicity said mysteriously. She let her head fall back against the couch. “I just ate so much Chinese food, I think this baby is going to come out speaking Mandarin.”
“Hm.” Oliver smoothed his palm over her lower abdomen, callused hand slipping beneath her shirt. “It’s a dumpling. Baby dumpling.”
A delirious happiness spread through her, seeing her husband in her lap talking to their unborn child.
She traced a finger down the slope of his nose, giggling when Oliver pressed a kiss to it. His blue eyes opened, peering up at her the way only he could – with such unguarded love.
“Thank you,” Felicity said, cupping his cheek.
“For what?”
“For trusting me. I told you I was going to take it easy, and suddenly I’m on an all-Black Canary mission to stop Laurel from committing mass murder – while pregnant.
“I’d understand if you were mad at me, putting two people in danger like that. I think I’m a little mad, too, but I would have never forgiven myself if I’d given up on Laurel.”
Oliver’s gaze grew brighter as the drowsiness faded. Rubbing soft circles on her belly, he said.
“I could never be mad at you for doing something I would have done in your place. And while, yes, I do worry about you if you’re out in the field, I’m not your keeper, Felicity. I know you can take care of yourself, and you wouldn’t just recklessly endanger our baby.
Pushing himself up on an elbow, he continued,
“Everyone had given up on Laurel. She was facing murder charges, possibly losing her position as the DA and her former connection to Diaz had just gone public. John and I were too involved with Dante to see what was going on. But you did.”
Felicity rubbed her knuckles over the scruff of his beard. “I couldn’t help it. She was there for me when I needed it the most – pulling me back from the edge. I had to help her.”
Standing down hadn’t even been an option. She hadn’t even considered it.
She’d seen Laurel was lost, alone, hurting – just like she’d been when she’d just come out of witness protection.
Her friend in pain, so different and yet so similar to the Laurel they had lost. Being framed for something she didn’t do, with people so willing to believe she’d just slipped back to being Black Siren.
It wasn’t right.
And she’d be damned if she would have just stood by and watched her drown.
“I know,” Oliver said, bright-eyed. “Because you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met. You’re the best of us.”
Felicity squished his cheeks between her hands, then planted a kiss on his forehead. “If you keep talking like that while I’m this hormonal, I’m going to smother you in cuddles.”
She already had the distinct urge a few times a day to wrap her husband in a blanket like a giant, superhero burrito and then tuck him close to her, like a mother hen with her chick beneath her wings.
Pregnancy was weird.
“Really?” Oliver gave her a boyish grin. “Because I’m not done yet.”
An image of a cocooned Green Arrow in a polka-dot blanket floated in her mind’s eye.
Felicity ran her hand up his side, smoothing over the velvety fabric of the sweater. “You’re lucky I have such good self-control, mister.”
Oliver’s grin dimmed into something tender as he laid his head back in her lap. “I just wanted to say how immensely proud I am of you. Every second of every day. For being Overwatch, for starting up Smoak Tech. For your golden heart, for literally creating life as we speak.
“I’m so honored to be your husband, Felicity. To walk through life by your side. And I’m sure that Lucas or Mia will feel the same way about their mother one day.”
Alarms beeped in the back of her mind. Hormone level: critical.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She sniffled. “I love you so much. I just love you so much.”
Without warning, she nearly bended double and attacked Oliver’s face with kisses, smooching all over him.
“You” - kiss – “are” – kiss – “so” – kiss – “goddamn” – kiss – “adorable!” – kiss kiss kiss.
Oliver laughed in her grasp, enjoying her affection. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Felicity said, pulling away to catch her breath. She thumbed away a smear of lipstick on his cheek. “You are.”
“So are you.” Oliver pressed a kiss to her belly, nuzzling his nose against her. “And so’s our dumpling.”
“We’re going to have the cutest dumpling ever.”
“Damn right we are.”
Felicity giggled, feeling lighter than she had in days. Her eyes fell on the coffee table, strewn in empty boxes and wrappers. “Didn’t we have some fortune cookies left?”
Oliver chuckled against her, sending vibrations through her belly. “Yes, we do. Don’t move.”
With a groan, he pulled himself upright and sifted through the heap of plastic bags. He produced two small packets in his hand and flopped down next to her. “Here, pick one.”
Felicity took the left one. “You first!”
“Alright,” Oliver said. Tearing the wrapper, he took the cookie and broke it in half. He laughed.
“What does it say?”
He held out the small piece of paper. “The fortune you seek lies in another cookie.”
“Cheeky,” Felicity said, then opened her own. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?”
“Moderate your appetite so you may be content with little.” Felicity narrowed her eyes at the paper. “Bad cookie.”
“Eat it as revenge. Have mine, too.”
In a fit of vengeance, Felicity propped the four halves in her mouth and chewed down on the orange-flavored snacks.
Oliver laughed, leaning his arm on the backrest. “Serves them right.”
“Damn straight.” Felicity sidled up to him, running her hands up the side of his neck. “I don’t need anyone telling me what do, least of all a cookie.”
Oliver’s hand found her waist, tracing shapes. “You want some ice cream?”
“To spite the cookie?”
“To make you happy.”
Felicity hummed. “Well, in that case…”
Watching her husband move into the kitchen, she put a hand on her belly.
After they'd returned to the bunker with everyone intact and Laurel in tow, a crushing wave of guilt had washed over her. For putting her unborn child at risk like that, even if she was being backed up by two of the deadliest women in the world.
It had taken everything inside her not to burst out in tears right then and there.
And while Dinah had been pouring out champagne, she'd sworn off all fieldwork for the forseeable future.
The precious cargo came first now.
“Don’t worry, little dumpling,” Felicity whispered. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
Looking up at an already-smiling Oliver, walking her way with two spoons and a huge pint of mint chip, she said,
“You have the best dad in the world. And you know what? Your mother’s not so bad, either.”