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A throbbing pain in her skull wakes Lucy from her slumber, the feeling of her brain being battered on by a sledgehammer instantly chasing away any tiredness. Sighing quietly, she stares up through the darkness at the ceiling, rubbing her temples. She knows it’s likely she’s just dehydrated or stressed, but she won’t be able to get back to sleep if she doesn’t take some form of painkiller - and she really needs to get some proper rest before her flight at eight in the morning to Florida, for a Make-A-Wish Foundation fundraising gala. Peering over at the clock, she groans silently when she sees it’s barely 2am.
She glances over at her wife. Dr Beth Schwartz jumped into her life six years ago when Lucy went into the emergency room with a broken ankle, and the last four years married to her have been the best period of Lucy’s life so far. Her wife is currently fast asleep next to her, curled up on her side with her legs tangled with Lucy’s. She debates on waking Beth up to go and get her some Advil from the kitchen medicine cabinet, but she knows that her wife only arrived home at 10pm that night after a fourteen hour day working at the hospital.
Vaulting out of bed as carefully as possible, as not to disturb her beautiful wife, Lucy stumbles through the black down the corridor towards the living room and kitchen. She’ll just grab a couple of pills for her headache and go straight back to bed. It’s a little difficult staggering through the darkness though, and Lucy scowls and swears violently under her breath when she stubs her toe on the table, so she decides to switch the lights on.
As brightness floods through the room, Lucy promptly screams.
Because Oliver Queen is lying on their couch, shirtless with his Green Arrow pants on, stitching up a wound in his side. He startles and jumps almost a foot in the air at Lucy’s yell of shock, yelping when it jolts his stitches. Lucy stares at him with wide, astonished eyes and Oliver gazes back at her, looking very much like a frightened deer in the headlights.
Being married to Dr Beth Schwartz, Lucy has dealt with a lot of weird shit happening in the middle of the night before. But if there’s ever been a limit when it comes to the weird shit - this is it.
“Sorry!” the archer whispers frantically. He scrambles off the couch, cupping his wound and dripping blood all over the floor. Beginning to look around for his discarded t-shirt and Arrow jacket, he ends up tripping over the coffee table. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I - I might have got the wrong apartment, I’ll just go -”
“BETH!” Lucy shouts, backing away until she’s trying to press herself into the wall and be swallowed into the plaster. “BETH, GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW. YOUR PET VIGILANTE IS BLEEDING OVER MY THROW PILLOWS AND CARPET.”
“Pet vigilante?” Oliver echoes, sounding both confused and insulted.
“Which one?” Beth calls from the bedroom. Lucy mouths a repeat of that in absolute incredulity. It takes a minute or so for Beth to emerge, shrugging on her dressing gown and pulling her messy bed-hair back into a ponytail. Upon arriving in the living room and seeing Oliver, she freezes in place, rolls her eyes and just mutters, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Looking over at Lucy with an exhausted expression, she requests, “Would you mind brewing some coffee for me, honey? I have a feeling I’m not going back to sleep after this.”
“I’m sorry,” Oliver says again. That kicked puppy look of his explains to Lucy why exactly Beth bends over backward to do medical favors for him. “I - I went to Star City General but George and Emma weren’t available, and they said you’d already gone home. I managed to pull your address from the hospital database - which I know is overstepping, I’m sorry, but -”
“Oliver, sit your ass down on that couch,” Beth orders. Lucy blinks in surprise when the vigilante hastily obeys her. “Wait, no, get up. I don’t want your bloodstains on my couch.” Oliver stands up again. Wow, he really is like a puppy.
“Here.” Lucy collects two dark blue towels from the clean linen cupboard, laying them down over the cushions.
“Thanks, baby,” Beth presses her lips to Lucy’s sweetly, squeezing her hand.
“I’ll get that coffee for you,” she replies. “But I need to go back to bed after that. I need to be up in four hours for my flight.” She leans around to narrow her eyes at the archer who is now sitting comfortably on the couch, prodding at his wound and the now partially torn stitches there. “Now go and treat your pet vigilante.”
“That’s kind of offensive,” Oliver sniffs.
“I find you breaking into our apartment in the middle of the night and bleeding out onto our pillows offensive,” Lucy counters with a quirked eyebrow. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr Queen?”
“Oliver, please,” he says, giving her a sheepish smile. “And some coffee would be lovely, Mrs Schwartz.”
Beth slaps him upside the head gently. “You’re not allowed coffee on your anxiety medication. Just get him one of those lemon and ginger herbal teas, please, hun.”
Nodding, Lucy moves around to start working in the kitchen, downing a couple of Advil before she begins brewing some fresh coffee. As she prepares two mugs with appropriate amounts of sugar added, she keeps her ear open to listen to her wife talk with the vigilante.
Beth’s fiddling with her personal first aid kit, pulling out gauze and proper equipment for sutures. “So it looks like a five-inch long laceration about three-quarters of an inch deep. Should take about forty stitches to close it up, and reduce the scarring. Wanna tell me how it happened? And why your wife and the rest of your team apparently don’t know about it?”
“Who says Felicity and the team don’t know about it?” Oliver responds defensively.
Stopping mid-step towards him, Beth levels him with what Lucy likes to call The Look.
“Okay, so they don’t know,” the archer mumbles. “Felicity’s taken Will and Addie to Vegas to visit her mother. Rene, Dinah and I went on a routine patrol, with John on comms… we decided to wrap it up early because Rene and John had to get home to their kids. But I can’t sleep without Felicity in the bed so decided to head out on another sweep around the Glades… a gang got the drop on me and managed to get a hit in before I took them down.”
“And by a hit, you mean you got stabbed.”
“Non-serrated, clean and didn’t hit any arteries,” Oliver reassures. “Barely a scratch.”
“That is what he calls a scratch?” Lucy bursts out.
Beth turns to face her and shrugs. “Now you see what I have to deal with.”
“I understand why you always ask for wine after Code Greens now.”
“I don’t stress you out that much, do I, Beth?” Is he pouting? Lucy shakes her head, in utter disbelief. The Green Arrow is pouting at her wife.
“Oh no, you definitely do,” Beth laughs. “At least you tried to go to the hospital before starting to stitch yourself up. You get points for that. Although why you came here and then didn’t wake me up for help is beyond me.”
“You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. Ow. Ow. Stop - why are you poking me with that needle!?”
“Just need to check its sharp,” Beth says innocently. She quickly sterilizes it, threads it and begins suturing the cut. Oliver barely flinches as the needle pierces his skin and Lucy can’t help but admire his sheer strength of will. “You sure you don’t need a local?”
The archer shakes his head, the slight frown on his face and strained expression the only indication that he’s currently having a minor operation performed on him that most people would be screaming for painkillers for. “No, it’s fine. I’ve had worse.”
“That’s incredibly depressing,” Lucy says under her breath, deciding that she’s definitely going to need a mild sedative of some kind to get to sleep after all of the night’s excitement. She searches the cupboards until she finds a chamomile tea bag for herself. While her own tea is brewing, she carries Oliver’s cup of herbal tea over to the coffee table. “Need anything else?”
“Um, I wouldn’t mind a distraction,” he answers, his jaw tightening as Beth tightens off the first couple of stitches.
Lucy exchanges a look with Beth, who gives her a small nod. Oliver’s putting on a brave face because he doesn’t want to seem ‘weak’ in front of the two women, despite the fact that it’s obvious he’s in pain and they’re all accepting of that.
“Tell me about your kids,” Lucy suggests. “William and Adalynn, right?”
That makes a small smile creep onto Oliver’s face. “Yeah. William just turned fourteen and Addie is ten months.”
“How’s William doing in school?”
“Great. He just started high school but he actually skipped a grade because of how advanced he is. At the moment he’s writing a paper on… cyclic AMP mediated pathways?” He has to check with Beth on this one, who apparently knows what he’s talking about, because she jerks her head in agreement. “And he’s starting to study for AP biology already. Oh, and he’s actually just coded this new social networking app for students so they can chat with student tutors about assignments - OW!” He jolts, hissing and throwing Beth a glare.
“Sorry,” Lucy’s wife says, sounding anything but. “Almost halfway done.”
“Well, it hurts,” Oliver sulks.
“Such a big baby. You’re the one who didn’t want the anesthetic,” Beth scoffs. “Stop squirming.”
Lucy snickers under her breath in amusement, rising from her seat to go and fetch her wife’s coffee and her own cup of chamomile tea. It seems like as soon as Oliver starts talking about his kids, he finds it hard to stop. It's sweet. He's a very happy father. “Keep talking to me, Oliver. What about Addie? She hitting all her milestones?”
“Oh, yes,” Oliver says with a dopey, proud grin. “She’s crawling, climbing, standing on her own… she can walk around the room if Felicity and I hold her hands. And she’s talking! She can say Mama and Dada and she loves her nouns right now. Although her favorite word at the moment is ‘dog’... I think William must have taught her that because he wants us to get a puppy. Addie is incredibly clever for her age - she can have a basic conversation with you and she’s really empathetic.”
“She sounds wonderful,” Lucy smiles, sipping her tea. “You know… I’ve been trying to convince Beth that we should adopt a baby, but we keep putting off the conversation.”
Beth whips around to shoot her a sharp look. “Now? You want to bring this up - now?” she sighs tiredly. “While I have my hands over a half-naked vigilante?”
“Well, when else are we going to talk about it?”
“I feel awkward,” Oliver says.
“You should,” Beth tells him. “Hey, Luce, you should totally tell him about your Make-A-Wish project with superheroes. Oliver might be interested in participating.”
“Very smooth change of subject there, baby,” Lucy rolls her eyes.
“I know, I’m the best,” Beth smirks.
Lucy hands her over a mug of coffee, leaning across to kiss her warmly. “I don’t know if Oliver wants to hear about my work, especially not when my wife is currently stitching him up.”
“No, I’d like to hear,” the archer says. “You work for the Make-A-Wish Foundation?”
“Yeah, with the marketing department,” Lucy explains. “I’m trying to set up a communication service with a couple of superheroes, because it might surprise you, but a lot of terminally-ill kids really want to meet and hang out with the heroes that inspire them. I don’t want to make it weird, but you’re actually on my list of heroes to talk to about it. Do you think maybe we could set up a meeting with you and the rest of Team Arrow?”
“Yeah, that sounds amazing,” Oliver nods. He looks impressed, and strangely enthusiastic about the idea. “I might be able to contact some of the other superheroes for you, if you’d like. I can get hold of the members of Team Flash, Batwoman and the Legends and ask them to attend the meeting.”
Lucy stares at him, thrilled. “Oliver… that would be fantastic. Thank you so much.”
“Hey, I just turned up to bleed on your couch and have your wife stitch up a knife wound, it’s the least I can do.”
“And we’re done,” Beth announces, finishing off the stitches and wrapping a bandage around his side. After throwing his t-shirt back at him, she drains her coffee mug in several huge gulps and slams the mug down. “Who’s going to call your wife about this, Oliver, you or me?”
“I’ll call her,” Oliver mutters. He sips at his herbal tea, gently poking at his bandage as he pulls his shirt back on, which causes Beth to hit his hand in admonishment. “She’s less likely to kill me if I tell her myself.”
Lucy checks the time, taking her empty mug to the kitchen sink. It’s nearly 3am. “Hate to leave the party early, but I should probably try and get back to bed. Do you sleep with one or two pillows, Oliver?”
“What?” both Beth and Oliver chorus simultaneously.
Kissing her wife on the cheek and hugging her from the side, Lucy rests her head on Beth’s shoulder, peering over at the vigilante. “Well, obviously he’s staying overnight. You’re staying the night, Oliver. We have a guest bedroom you can sleep in. We’re not letting you go home with a literal hole in your side.”
The archer takes a second or two to check with Beth, but then nods with a hesitant smile. “Thank you.”
“You have to promise to introduce me to your wife though,” Lucy says. “Because she’s absolutely awesome. One of the most inspiring women in the STEM world today. Do you think I could get her autograph?”
Beth covers her mouth to stifle her snigger.
“I’m sure Felicity would be delighted to give you her autograph, and perhaps go out for lunch with you,” Oliver laughs. “And to answer your initial question, Mrs Schwartz, one pillow is fine.”
“I’ll sort that out, honey,” Beth assures, stroking over Lucy’s hair. “You should go back to sleep. Thank you for your help.”
“Thank you,” Oliver agrees. “I’m sorry about scaring you half to death by sitting in the dark in your living room. I’ll pay to replace the throw pillows I got blood onto.”
Beth pats him on the shoulder. “Meaning we can finally get new ones that actually match the rest of the decor.”
“No!” Lucy whines. “I love our throw pillows! Isn’t there a way to get fresh and dried blood out of fabric?”
“Baking soda, cold salt water, hydrogen peroxide, and meat tenderizer,” Oliver says absentmindedly, smoothing his hand over the towels on the couch before picking them up and folding them.
“I was going to say it’s alarming that you know that, but considering your line of work, you probably have a ridiculous amount of experience removing blood stains.”
“I know how to remove blood stains as well,” Beth says.
“Yeah, but you’re a doctor,” Lucy shrugs. “Don’t drink too much coffee, Beth, and feel free to help yourself to eggs and bacon from the fridge for breakfast, Oliver.”
Beth frowns. “How come you don’t let me help myself to food in the kitchen?”
“Because you can’t cook to save your life,” Lucy replies with a teasing grin. “But from what I’ve heard from you, Mr Queen here has the culinary skills to rival a professional chef.”
“Not a professional chef. More like a semi-professional chef,” Oliver says. “I’d be happy to make breakfast for the two of you.”
“And this is why we have a pet vigilante and not a cat,” Beth comments.
Lucy looks between the two of them; there’s some part of her that can’t believe that this is the conversation they’re having at three in the morning after the Green Arrow broke into their apartment to get stitched up by her wife, but there’s another part of her that is convinced that this is somehow normal and she wouldn’t mind it happening again. She can understand why Beth is so fond of the archer now.
“Okay, goodnight, guys,” she says softly.
“Goodnight, baby,” Beth blows her a kiss.
Oliver smiles. “Goodnight, Mrs Schwartz.”