Chapter Text
He’d woken up that morning and it was just gone.
It was a little past seven when Oliver had staggered out of bed blearily, promptly heading to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. He'd had a long night with only three solid hours of sleep and multiple bruises to prove it. He was struggling to wake up and it’s the only reason why he didn't immediately spot the change. He’s already in the vicinity of the kitchen and had been walking right up to it when he finally notices it's missing.
As soon as he does, he faltered midstep, the burn of his muscles and the twinge of his bruises fading to nothing as he blinked uncomprehendingly at the glaringly empty spot on the counter.
No. That's impossible.
He stood immobile, just staring at the gap between the toaster and the electric kettle as though if he did it long enough, it'll turn out to be some sort of illusion and the machine would just suddenly reappear. When it doesn't, his heart stuttered, his mouth going dry as the world seem to narrow down to nothing but himself and that empty space where the coffee maker - Spock - used to be. Some part of him knew it’s stupid, knew it’s an absolutely ridiculous reaction considering the life he’s led and the amount of danger he’s faced, but he knew all too well just how much Felicity loved the damned thing. Plus, his wife could be absolutely terrifying. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with genuine fear and panic that choked him.
It started out as an inkling that she probably treasured her coffee maker based solely on the fact that there’s no one that loved coffee quite like Felicity does. However, it turned out that he had severely underestimated the extent of it up until they'd first moved in together when they'd returned home to Starling. He’d received a crash course of just how priceless it was when she’d made him lug it from her apartment to the loft. She’d been adamant against packing it in with her other boxes, not trusting the movers to be careful enough with it - “There’s no way in hell, Oliver. They’re not going to be careful enough with Spock.” And so, along with her ridiculous number of boxes filled with heavy electronics, they’d transported them from her apartment where he’d had to personally haul them up box by box from her car and into their loft. That’s not to say that she trusted him with her babies either. She’d gone on to micromanage how he carried the boxes throughout the entire journey. It involved a lot of her repeatedly yelling at him to be extra careful.
When he’d gotten to the coffee maker, she’d given him a full induction of the merits of Spock and the proper way of using him. It’d been her first extravagant purchase after she started working - “That’s different, Oliver. My tech are necessities, but I wanted Spock. I could’ve bought a cheaper coffee maker but that’s just blasphemy” - and so it held a special place in her heart. It’s safe to say that moving day had been eye-opening.
And so, his immediate, visceral reaction to its disappearance isn’t entirely uncalled for. After all, regardless of whatever caffeine fix she could get sans Spock, Felicity is loyal to the machine and depended on it like a lifeline, relying on it to supply her at least three cups of coffee per day. Plus, Felicity has been slightly more emotional lately due to the hormonal changes and he could only imagine what her reaction would be like.
She’d already started having intense responses to random things, but nothing had been as passionate as when Dr Schwartz had brought up her caffeine intake. She’s seven weeks pregnant and they had gone to the hospital earlier in the week for her first prenatal appointment. While the doctor had gently reminded her of the safe amount of caffeine a pregnant woman is allowed to have, Felicity had reacted passionately to it. Even though she had already severely reduced the cups of coffee she consumed since the doctor first told her she was pregnant, having it said aloud had apparently made it more real.
Oh.
Just as quickly as the panic had set in, understanding - and amusement - washed over him.
He had an idea of what could’ve happened to Spock and it had his wife’s name written all over it.
&&&
He’s almost done making breakfast when Felicity’s alarm goes off. It takes a couple of seconds before the shrill ringing stops and then a couple of seconds longer before he hears her shuffling out of bed and heading for the bathroom. He’s just slid the last of her pancake onto the plate when she appears in the doorway, squinting blearily at him. She’s wearing his gray T-shirt, the sleeve falling off her right shoulder paired with shorts that were so tiny, they were almost entirely covered by the shirt. For a moment, the flare of disbelief and gratitude overwhelms him at the thought that he’s married to the love of his life and that this was his reality now. He never thought he deserves the happiness - he still doesn’t - but he’s definitely going to try to earn it.
The sight of her yawning brings him break to the present and he offers her a cheery, “Good morning.” It earns him an intelligible grunt in response as she shuffles over to the kitchen, reaching up to rub at her eyes. Oliver quickly deposits the pan and spatula in the sink, knowing he’d want to watch this. He tracks her as she went about her normal routine, beelining right past him towards the counter where he usually would’ve had her panda mug filled to the brim with coffee prepared with the right amount of creamer and sugar. He’s since swapped it for a smaller mug - her second favourite that’s adorned with a Starfleet logo - since he found out she’s pregnant.
She’s gotten her hands out in front of her before she froze, her body stiffening as she finally notices the empty space where the coffee maker used to occupy. He takes a couple of steps back so he could get a better look at her expression and has to bite back a laugh at the way she blinks rapidly, her brain struggling to catch up with what’s happening. It’s far too early in the morning even for someone as brilliant as Felicity Smoak to be fully functioning, especially a pre-caffeinated Felicity Smoak. She stands frozen for almost a full minute, just staring before she finally deflates with a quiet, “Oh.”
“So, about that,” he says, keeping his tone light and casual. “I wanted to make you coffee first thing this morning but the coffee maker’s missing. Do you know where it went?”
She turns her head just enough to shoot him a scathing look and he grins brightly at her. She seems to contemplate the merits of hitting him but decides against it, huffing unhappily instead. He watches her as she grabs the electric kettle instead, filling it with water and leaving it to boil. She maneuvers past him to grab the Starfleet mug from the dishwasher and a box from the pantry cabinet. Before he could even ask, she’s turning to him. She’s pouting and he opens his arms instinctively just as she falls into him. He doesn’t miss the way her gaze darts quickly to the stack of pancakes behind him and the way her eyes light up for a split second. She snuggles into him, burying her face against his bare chest as her arms coming up around him. She makes a sound that’s a cross between a whine and wail and he wraps his arms around her, gently rubbing her back and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Choosing to let go of the missing coffee maker for now, he focuses on her instead. “How are you feeling?” While morning sickness has set over a week ago, it’d been bad yesterday to the point that she’d had to stay home, the nausea forcing her to take a day off.
“Better,” her voice is muffled against his chest, but he hears her anyway. “I don’t feel nauseous. Not yet, anyway.”
“Do you want to try eating something then? I made you pancakes.” It’s redundant information because even if she hadn’t already looked, Felicity seems to have developed a radar for sweets. It’s all she craves for lately and while he doesn’t endorse it, she hasn’t eaten a proper meal for an entire day. She’d tried yesterday morning - he’d cooked her eggs for breakfast and she’d barely swallowed three bites of it before she was flying across the room for the bathroom. Her nausea hadn’t gotten much better throughout the day and he’d barely managed to get her to eat some fruits and some granola. He’d give her anything she asked for if it means she could keep it down at this point.
Therefore, he’d pulled out all the stops today and had cooked her favourite chocolate chip pancakes. He’d set out the maple syrup she loves grudgingly and had even prepared a bowl of cut fruits, keeping it in the refrigerator in the meantime because she loved it cold. He’d set out to make the perfect breakfast for his wife although, of course, it hasn’t exactly gone according to plan. It was missing a very distinctive last component of a cup of her favourite brew made exactly the way she liked it.
She nods against his chest but makes no move to step away from him just yet. He’s not complaining though and simply hugs her closer, widening his stance slightly to compensate for her weight as she leans completely into him. “Chocolate chip?”
He hums in affirmation and she pulls back just long enough to peck him before she’s snuggling back into his chest. He rests his chin atop her head as she uses him as a pillow and they contentedly stayed wrapped around each other, unconcerned about their breakfast going cold. Even as the kettle clicks, she simply shifts slightly in his arms.
“I got rid of it.”
It takes him a moment to realize that she’s talking about the coffee maker. “Why?”
She sighs, pulling away from him to look down at herself. He follows her gaze, watches her lift her right hand to pat at her still flat belly. “Precious cargo,” she mumbles in lieu of an explanation and her dejected tone combined with the look of absolute sadness and frustration on her face makes him laugh. He’d been right in assuming it had something to do with the prenatal appointment after all. He tugged her back to him to drops a kiss to her forehead.
"You're still allowed a cup," he reminds her gently, knowing well enough that he’s threading through dangerous territory. Her addiction aside, they led a crazy life which meant erratic sleep schedules and more often than not, it consisted of a lack of rest. It didn’t help that she was simultaneously working on Helix and Archer which requires a lot of brain power and concentration, something that regular caffeine fixes helps her with. But he knows better than to even suggest her slowing down on either fronts. “You didn’t have to get rid of the coffee maker.”
“I did,” she moans, “One cup is torture, Oliver. Torture. It’s like giving me a sample of one of the best things mankind has ever discovered and then telling me I can’t have it. And it’s not like it’s out of reach. I could get it everywhere, but I really shouldn’t. It's like the adult version of the marshmallow experiment except the delayed gratification is stupidly long. Don’t get me wrong. I love our baby already and of course I want to make sure he’s healthy and safe but it’s just so hard.” She stretches out the last word and it tapers off into sobbing noises. “You don’t understand just how intense my cravings are, Oliver.”
“I’m pretty sure i have an idea,” he says teasingly, opting to lighten the mood mostly because he knows this is one of those problems where he can’t help her with no matter how much he wishes he could. “You did make me get gummy bears for you at 2AM last Friday and then had me pick out all the yellow ones for you even though they all taste the same.”
“No, they don’t!” she retorts, affronted. “But do you know what i crave for the most, Oliver? Coffee. I love coffee. It's the nectar of the gods. An aphrodisiac and stimulant for my brain. But it's restricted goods. That just makes it all the more tempting. It doesn’t help that Spock is right there. It drives me insane.” She releases a long exhale. “So, yes, Oliver, I had to get rid of it. I have no self-control when it comes to coffee and the headaches just makes it that much harder."
With a disgruntled sound, she pulls away from him and opens the box she’s set out on the counter. He doesn’t know what to say and instead just wanders closer to her. Curiously, he watches as she grabs a teabag from the box and drops it into her mug, pouring hot water over it. He picks up the box and examines it, the corner of his lips curling up into a smile as he reads what’s written on it.
“Pregnancy tea?”
“It’s supposed to be good for me,” she mumbles, moving around the island to drop into the chair across from him. She sets the mug on the island and pauses for a moment to eye it distrustfully, as though deciding whether it would poison her.
She’s quick to avert her attention to the pancakes though, her eyes lighting up as she drags the plate stacked with the food closer to her. Grabbing the fork and knife he’s set out for her, Felicity transfers three of them from the pile to her own plate before reaching for the bottle of maple syrup. Clamping his mouth shut, he watches as she pours a generous amount over her stack, practically coating the entire surface of it. He’d hoped that even if she did reach for it, she’d at least consume it in moderation. He should’ve known not to get his hopes up.
He grabs his plate of eggs but doesn’t start eating yet. Instead, he leans against the counter, content to just watch her eat. While he knew morning sickness was a normal occurrence, he couldn’t get over how useless her felt watching her getting sick while not being able to do anything to help. The relief that washes over him is palpable as he watches her demolish the pancakes, showing absolutely no hints of slowing down just yet. Once he’s assured that she wouldn’t be running for the bathroom this time, he rounds the island to sit next to her, starting on his own breakfast.
She’s eaten at least half of her pancakes before she reaches for her mug again. While she eyes her tea with disdain, a thought suddenly occurred to him. “How’d you even get the coffee maker out?" The machine was on the heavier side and the thought of her lugging it out of the house makes him scowl in disdain. But just as quickly, the answer clicks in his mind. “Digg.”
She nods absentmindedly, casting one last dubious glance at the tea before tentatively taking half a sip. He huffs in amusement when she immediately pulls back with a grimace, setting the cup back down on the counter and sliding it away from her.
“He helped me move it out yesterday,” she confirms.
Digg had dropped by to check up on her in the afternoon while Oliver had been stuck at a meeting with Dinah and Pollard at SCPD. Oliver had asked the man for help considering he was the only one out of their friends who knew Felicity was pregnant. Digg had dropped by as a favor, although when Oliver had told him Felicity was dealing with severe morning sickness, the man had wanted to check up on her anyway.
“You made Digg what, exactly? Throw it out?”
She whips around to face him, looking at him as though she couldn’t believe what he’d just said. She’s never quite glowered at him like that before and he shifts on his stool uncomfortably. “Are you insane? Of course not! I’m not going to throw away Spock.” She pauses to take a couple of deep breaths as though to summon all the patience to deal with him. When she continues, the hysterical note to her voice is gone. “I made Digg hide it.”
She says it as though it’s the most obvious thing to do and it suddenly makes sense why Digg had given him a withering look when he had met the man in the bunker afterwards and why one of the bruises on his thigh was in courtesy of his own friend from a sparring session instead of one of the thugs they’d fought last night.
“Why didn’t you wait until I got home? I would’ve moved it for you.”
She sighed. “I had to get it out of the house right then. I asked Digg if he wanted anything a drink like any good host would when he came by and of course he chose to have coffee because he knows Spock makes the best and he was out to torment me. It smelled divine when I poured him a cup and I wanted to top up my own but of course Digg had to remind me that I shouldn’t be drinking too much caffeine.” She shrugged nonchalantly but couldn’t seem to meet his eyes. “So, I told him to take the entire machine away with him when he left.”
That probably meant Digg had gotten an earful in her loud voice. He winces just thinking about it.
“You could’ve just had Digg move it into one of the cabinets,” Oliver said tentatively, “I’m sure we have more than enough space to store it in the meantime.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “That’s what Digg said too. But I’d know it’s still in the house and you can bet I’ll find it. I’ll somehow figure out a way to get it plugged in to a nearby power source and then it would've been a pointless effort. So elsewhere. Out of sight, out of mind. It’ll be too much effort trying to find it and Digg will never let me know.” She pauses, a thoughtful look covering her face. “I’m pretty sure he has it hidden in the bunker somewhere though.”
While a little convoluted and excessive, he could understand where she was coming from. Felicity depended on coffee unconsciously at this point, reaching for a cup even before she’s fully thought about getting one. Even before she was pregnant, he’d had to watch her on hectic days to make sure she didn’t drink too much. So, yes, he could understand the extreme measures.
However, when she looks over to him, he still doesn’t manage to school his expression in time. “Oh, shut it, Oliver,” she snaps and he’s chuckling before he could stop himself. “I can see you judging me. I know I’m acting like a crazy pregnant lady but you know I have no self-control around coffee.” She releases a breath, averting her gaze away from him. “I know I’m still allowed some coffee but having Spock here is additional temptation I don’t need. I can’t get rid of all the coffee shops in Starling but I can do that at least.” She pauses and her voice turns quieter. “Everybody kept telling me I drink too much caffeine anyway. So, maybe this is a good opportunity to fix that. Yep. This is a good thing.” He’s not sure if she’s trying to convince him or herself. “It’d be good for the baby and i promised Dr Schwartz I’d try to go without caffeine anyway.” So softly he could barely hear her, she continues, “I just… want to be a good mom and this shouldn’t be so difficult, you know? It’s just the beginning.”
“You already are,” he says quickly and resolutely, reaching for her hands. It’s a thought he refuses to let her entertain. “You’re amazing with Will and you’re already trying your best with Mia.” She takes a couple of seconds to think on it before nodding, squeezing his hands in thanks.
“I never thought I'd live to see the day you let that coffee maker out of your sight,” he teases, earning him a snort and a noise of assent. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll make mistakes and learn from them. We’ll do this together.”
She sniffled, raising their intertwined hands to press her lips against his knuckles. She looks up at him with a small, fond smile. “It’s Lucas.”
“Hmm, we’ll have to see about that one,” he laughs, leaning over to kiss her.
“I need to find another alternative though.” At his questioning look, she shudders and glances at her mug in disgust. “Pregnancy tea tastes so gross.”