Work Text:
The sunlight flashes from behind a cloud and Oliver is momentarily blinded, actually blinded, as the rays reflect off her hair.
He hadn’t seen her, thought she was still outside, trying to salvage her garden. He had been on the phone with Walter, sitting in her little office, barely fitting into her weird purple tube-corded computer chair thing. (It was surprisingly comfortable, though he was sure he looked ridiculous squished in it.)
Anyway, he had ended the call and, in his usual brooding mood, he had walked into the living room to go get a drink from the small kitchen beyond.
But that sun, her hair…
He stood frozen, blinking, until the sun hid behind another cloud and the room was shaded again.
He looked over and saw Felicity, asleep, in her favorite big armchair, feet tucked up under her, sun-pinked cheek laying on her palm. A smear of soil across her brow, and a cluster of lavender clutched in her other hand, almost relaxed enough to drop it on the floor.
He smiled, his mood lifting. More sun and she was glowing again, golden, messy ponytail, healthy skin…she sighed and stretched an for a moment, Oliver panicked and thought of running.
But she opened her eyes and smiled. “Hey, call all done?” She stretched some more and even though nothing particularly sexy was showing, Oliver swallowed hard and just nodded.
Felicity looked at her hand then. “Oh!” She jumped up, did a slightly odd looking maneuver to untangle her feet, and waved the lavender as she walked up to him.
He grinned, he couldn’t help it.
"My lavender did survive! So I’m putting it in your room because it helps with relaxation and we ALL know you need that more than anyone, oh except maybe for Lyla, but she has Digg. I mean, you have me—well, that is, not have me have me? But I’m here and so are you—oh that doesn’t sound any better, does it? You have your own room and I’m not your mate like Digg is to Lyla…ok, well mate can also mean friend and you ARE my friend, but that’s not how we use the term around these parts……what?"
Oliver had been biting his lip and raising his eye brows higher the whole time he had allowed the word vomit to go on.
He shook his head, reached out, and pulled the hand still holding up the scented stems toward him. Felicity’s eyes grew wide as he pushed her hand onto his chest and wrapped both his arms around her sun-warmed body.
"Oliver?" she whispered.
He bent, noticing her lick her lips, and inhaled the lavender smell. “Very relaxing,” he murmured.
"Huh?" She tried to pull back a little, which just caused him to hold her tighter. "Relaxing? THIS?"
He nodded. “The lavender.”
She closed her eyes. “Right. That.”
"And you." Her eyes popped open and stared right into his. "You relax me."
She smiled and shrugged. “Weird, you have the opposite effect on me, Oliver…”
He searched her face, her soul, and then sighed. “Trust me, you can very much be the opposite for me, too.”
"Oh."
-*-