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"Oliver?" Felicity calls out, frowning as she scans the empty bedroom.
It's been a long couple of days and they were quickly catching up with her. All she wanted to do was sleep. There were more than enough things to worry about – Cayden James, Oliver’s indictment and the sudden lack of a team – but those could wait for a couple of hours.
She had waved Diggle goodnight at the bunker and was shutting down her computers, fully intending to head back to the loft, have a glass of wine and maybe watch a movie before going to bed. It all changed when she turned around and found Oliver waiting for her expectantly.
“I know we haven’t talked about us and how we’re going to handle everything,” he said tentatively as he stepped up to her. He had smiled softly and almost wistfully, reaching out to cradle her face and kissing her gently. “But will you come home with me tonight? Please.”
She’d been a goner then. Although, in her defense, he totally hadn’t played fair. He knew what that voice of his did to her and that stupidly unfair way he looked at her always had her caving in. Oh, and he’d definitely played dirty when he kissed her and made her all… pliant. He'd even offered to make her a late night snack when she’d just stared at him. She hadn’t stood a chance, really.
They’d headed back to his apartment together and had checked in on William. Once they were sure he was asleep, Felicity had gone to wash up while Oliver slipped to the kitchen to whip up the snack and had promised to bring it to bed once it was ready.
Felicity had taken a quick shower and tugged on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top she kept in one of his drawers. She moved through the motions unconsciously as the exhaustion settled in. She stepped out of the bathroom after drying her hair, eager to just slip into bed with Oliver and pretend their problems didn’t exist for a couple of hours.
It comes as no surprise that she was thoroughly disappointed at the sight of the bed that was still made and the stark absence of Oliver.
"In here," his voice responds distantly.
Felicity pads across his room and peeks through the doorway. The kitchen is shrouded in light whereas the rest of the apartment remains unlit. She spots the two glasses filled with red wine on the countertop but still no Oliver.
Cutting her gaze across the room, it takes her a while to spot his silhouette on the couch across from the TV. His back is to her and she moves toward him.
"Hey," she murmurs, hesitating when she gets close enough to get a proper look at him. His shoulders are slumped and his gaze is fixated on his hands as he twirls his wedding ring around his finger. It's the look on his face - worry and uncertainty rolled into one - that has her instantly on edge.
He shifts imperceptibly in her direction and she takes that as her cue, crossing the remaining distance to sit next to him. She huddles closer, pressing the length of her thigh against his. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"
"Nothing happened," he rushes to assure her as he leans his weight into her. He refuses to meet her gaze and while her worry eased some at his words, she still watches him warily. His voice is quieter when he continues. "I was just thinking."
She recognizes that tone all too well.
She had seen him retreat into himself in the bunker earlier but had decided to leave him alone, knowing he probably needed some time to process everything by himself first. She figured he’d analyze the situation and then come up with a plan of action. But apparently he’s gone a step further and found a way to blame himself for it too. Even though he's gotten better at it recently, his default reaction is still to place all the weight upon himself and she really shouldn’t have been surprised.
It doesn’t mean she can’t hate it, though.
He'd been happier and lighter when he had stepped down from being the Green Arrow - a special kind of serene she had only seen on him in Ivy Town. But then he'd been force back into the life and suddenly everything was going wrong.
“I know thing look bad right now – like really bad,” she pauses and frowns. She huddles impossibly closer to him. “Or maybe not. We’ve gone through way more things that can be defined as really bad than could be considered normal.” A quiet huff of laughter escapes him and she counts that as a win. “My point is, we’ve made it through some pretty horrible stuff. We’ll figure things out.”
He finally tilts his head to look at her for the first time since she's found him brooding. He still looks worried as Felicity smiles at him and wraps her arm around him, squeezing his shoulders in comfort.
"We'll figure it out together," she repeats. "We always do."
The corners of his lips quirk into a small smile as he leans towards her and presses a soft kiss against her lips.
"I love you," he sighs, brushing his nose against hers before pulling back just far enough so they could look at each other clearly. "And I know we will. That wasn't what I was thinking about, actually."
"Oh?"
“I’m just-” He pauses as he considers his words carefully. He maneuvers them so that her hands are cradled in between his. “I’m sorry. This is probably not how you imagined we’d spend our honeymoon together.”
Oh.
Of course he’d heard her quip about it on comms earlier. Of course he had taken it personally even though she had said if offhandedly.
They hadn’t even broached the subject before this and yet he was apologizing for it. The thoughtfulness of this man and his constant need to make her happy still overwhelms her a lot.
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, setting her chin atop his shoulder. She closes her eyes and lets the tiredness makes its prominence again. “Fighting against the latest big bad? Seems about right.”
“Felicity.” She hears the smile in his voice but continues on, knowing he needs more than funny right now.
“We’ve been kinda spontaneous with this whole marriage thing,” she points out. “But William and the city needs you. We’ll go on a honeymoon at some point, when we have the time. We’ll take a trip to – Bali? Should we go back to Bali? Or maybe Aruba? Either way, we’ll take a trip when the time is right.”
He’s quiet for a while as he considers her words and then squeezes her hands gratefully. “Do you want to go back to Bali for our honeymoon? We didn’t really get to explore it properly the first time.”
The smile that tugs on her lips is entirely involuntary as she snuggles closer to him, burying her face against the crook of his neck. “I’d go anywhere with you.”
He’s silent for longer this time and she’s so comfortable, she almost dozes off in the comfort of his embrace. She blinks rapidly in surprise when he pulls away.
His smile is full of love as he meets her gaze. He presses a feather-light kiss against her lips then moves to press another to her forehead as her eyes fluttered close again.
“I’d go anywhere with you, too,” he murmurs, needing her to know he shares the sentiment. She hums in response and leans forward to press her cheek against his chest and he laughs softly, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You’re tired. The past couple of days have been pretty crazy, haven’t they?”
She snorts as she shifts against him to get comfortable. “That’s an understatement.”
"Everything else aside, we really do need to talk about us, though. Settle some things.”
“Oh. Now you want to do the talking thing? You?” she practically whines as she pulls away from him and opens her eyes a smidge.
If they’re going to be talking, she probably shouldn’t be pressed up against him like that. His warmth has always given her a sense of comfort and helps to calm down her crazy brain. It makes him the best pillow ever. Which didn’t make sense considering how hard he was.
But either way, she needs to get away from him before he lulls her to sleep. She really does want that glass of red wine she’d spotted on the counter earlier anyway. Plus, while she has no doubt that he’d carry her to the room if she does fall asleep, she knows his knee is still hurting and doubt that carrying her dead weight would feel great for him.
He’s grinning at her as though she’s the most adorable thing he’s seen. He reaches up and brushes a stray lock of hair away from her face.
"We're married," he marvels and oh wow, that wakes her right up. The smile on his face changes to one that has her heart stuttering because he's looking at her with so much love and he just looks so incredibly happy. It’s a look of his that she has quickly become addicted to. She can’t help but return the smile. "You're my wife."
Oliver’s savoring the sound of the words on his tongue and Felicity has the urge to tease him for it. He’s such a sap sometimes. She bites back the retort because she knows how he feels.
She can’t quite believe they’re married either.
"And you're my husband," she returns, matching the quiet of his voice.
If she thought his smile a moment ago was beautiful though, he's dazzling now. The look of unadulterated joy on his face is gorgeous and she vows to make sure it stays there.
They beam at each other stupidly for what could've been minutes or hours - she honestly couldn't care less. Oliver snaps out of it first with a huff of laughter as he leans forward and kisses her chastely again.
“We need to do something about the fact that we’re still technically living separately, for starters,” he says and it takes Felicity a while to realize he’s resuming the conversation. “Maybe tomorrow? I promised William I’d have lunch with him. You should come with us and then we can talk after.”
She knows it's stupid considering they're already married and they've lived together before but it's what sends a beat of panic through her. Even though she knew rationally that there never had been a doubt that he would be a part of her future, it’s suddenly so real.
They’re married now. William is her stepson. They’re going to build a life together now.
They're really doing this.
He squeezes her hands and the uncertainty on his face lets her know that her feelings had been transparent. He must’ve interpreted her realization slash mini internal freak out as doubt about their marriage.
Her husband – oh wow – can be such an idiot sometimes.
She loves him. And sure, while she's still undeniably terrified, she has always believed in him.
She believes in them.
"That sounds great,” she says. She smiles reassuringly at him and runs her thumbs over his knuckles. “We’ll definitely have that talk about us. Tomorrow. That’s a conversation I really hope to be awake for and I’m so close to falling asleep on you now. Plus, you, Mr. Mayor, have an early day tomorrow. You need to get some sleep. But we'll definitely talk about it. Tomorrow. Or like, later today since it’s already 2 in the morning. Okay?"
"Okay," he nods.
She watches him a while longer to make sure that he gets what she’s trying to say before moving to get up. She doesn’t get far when he refuses to let go of her hands. She turns to look at him expectantly but he isn't looking at her anymore. She follows his gaze to their hands, their rings glinting against the moonlight. He brushes his thumb across them reverently.
"I didn’t get to say it earlier. Thank you," he breathes and Felicity looks up, seeing the wonderment on his face. "For marrying me."
"I'm so damn lucky to have met you," he continues. "Thank you for not giving up on me. I can't promise you that I won't make any mistakes, but I'll try my best not to."
She knows him better than anyone. She knows he still doesn't think he deserve happiness. He's wonderful in every possible way and it makes her sad knowing that he still doubts himself and doesn't think he's worthy.
But that's okay.
She'll spend the rest of her life convincing him he's more than enough.
She reaches up to cradle his cheek, scratching at his scruff in the way she knows he likes. She smiles when he nuzzles her palm. "Thank you for always being there for me and being the best husband I could ask for. I love you, Oliver Queen."
"I love you, Felicity Queen," he responds. He looks like a kid at Christmas and Felicity can't help but to laugh. Her heart feels so full at the sight of him like this.
She kisses his cheek and moves to stand up, pulling him with her. "C'mon, I saw the wine. And you promised me snacks. Unless you just said that lure me here, Mr. Mayor. That wouldn't be very nice."
He laughs joyfully as he follows after her. She grips one of his hands and tugs him along toward the kitchen. "I was planning to make you some monte cristos."
"You really do love me," she beams, glancing over her shoulder at him.
"Yeah," he returns, that soft and serene smile back on his face. "I really, really do."