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This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!
She had pictured it, in her head, dozens of times. No, maybe hundreds. And it wasn’t supposed to go like this. She’d be sitting on her couch, maybe. Stuffed koala bear on her lap, mint chip ice cream slowly melting while she zoned out in front of the television.
No, she’d be at work. Sitting in her glass walled office, hands flying over the keyboards as she furiously wrote code for the new software in Ray’s suit.
No! She’d be in the lair, sitting on the floor, computer parts surrounding her as she swapped out the fans and then the hard drive on one of her babies.
She’d look up. From the couch. From her desk. From the mess of hardware.
There was no sound that alerted her. No creaky floor or door clicking shut. Something would just tell her that he was there. And she’d look up and it would be like…
Like he never left.
She’d smile. Koala bear, keyboard, screwdriver pushed to the side in an attempt to scramble to her feet to reach him. But he’d be fast. So fast. Standing in front of her, over her, next to her in a heartbeat and then. Then. They’d be kissing and he’d tell her how sorry he was. Sorry to have left. Sorry that he didn’t do this before. Sorry she thought he DIED.
But the kissing. Yes, the kissing. That was what was supposed to happen. It was what she had expected. Not this half-hug. Not this “Hey. I’m home. Sorry you thought I was dead” bullshit. No!
This was not right!
She would tell him she missed him. That she never gave up hope. Not really. That everyone – Diggle, Roy – tried to tell her that he was gone. But she knew. She’d laugh and say that only Laurel believed in her, for god’s sake and did he realize how fucked up that was?
And he’d laugh. And kiss her again and they’d go to bed and hold one another and touch one another and…
Felicity threw the spoon down in disgust. It sailed halfway across the room and hit the door with a satisfying chunk. The carton was empty anyway.
She. Was. Pissed.
This wasn’t at all what was supposed to happen. She really thought it would be different. Better. Amazing.
Oliver hadn’t let the island kill him. But maybe Ra’s Al Ghul had. Maybe the man she’d known, the man she’d loved, was really gone.
-
It wasn’t supposed to be like this!
Oliver had weeks to think about what would happened when he returned home. WEEKS. He’d go to her apartment. Or her office. Or the lair. Maybe Ray Palmer would be there, maybe he wouldn’t. But Oliver wouldn’t care.
He’d stop for just a moment. Just a second to stare at her and remind himself that this was real. That he was alive. That Felicity was right there in front of him.
She’d look up at him. She’d smile, then. That gorgeous, warm smile that reached all the way to her eyes and turned her from a beautiful woman into a stunning woman. She’d smile and he’d move and they’d be hugging and he’d just…
He’d be home.
But it didn’t go that way!
He went to her apartment first, but she wasn’t there. Then the lair. Empty. But he could hear chatter over the coms. Heard them talking about Brick and Merlyn and recruiting more and more people.
No!
So he’d suited up. Put on the hood, grabbed his quiver and staggered painfully into the fray.
He didn’t want to tell her like this.
And then when it was all over. When he’d talked to Merlyn while Tatsu’s word still echoed painfully in his head, he knew he’d probably fucked everything up.
Why couldn’t she see?! The only reason he was doing this was so that they could have a future together. So that they could have more than dark basements and bombed dinners and…
If he didn’t destroy Ra’s Al Ghul there was no future. Not for him. Not for Thea. And not for Felicity when Ra’s figured it out. If Nyssa’s beloved was dead, so was Oliver’s.
And she couldn’t see!
The motorcycle dipped precariously as Oliver took the curve too quickly. His ribs hurt, his side hurt, his soul hurt.
In the hundreds of times that he pictured reuniting with Felicity – not once did she throw his past in his face. Not once did she use her words to hurt him so deeply. To take all the mistakes he’d made, wrap them up in a neat little bow and then say, “This. This is why I won’t be with you.”
Oliver. Was. Hurt.
But he knew. Knew she was hurt, too. He hadn’t expected Brick. Or Merlyn. He’d thought he might go to Gotham for a bit. See if he could find the Bat. Maseo had mentioned him once. But Merlyn had fallen into his lap and he couldn’t turn it down.
If Merlyn could be redeemed. That meant that Oliver might be redeemed.
Why couldn’t she see it?
--
She dropped the spoon into the dishwasher and kicked the door shut, turning to dump the carton of ice cream into the garbage in one fluid motion.
A sigh escaped her lips and she pulled the tie from her hair as she puttered towards her room. Stopping only to flip off a light switch and grab a stuffed bear off the couch.
She hugged the bear close to her and stopped for just a moment – head cocked as if listening – at the entrance to the hallway.
Oliver stilled, hidden as he was in the doorway to her extra bedroom.
She knew he was there. She shook her head and continued on to her room.
“It’s late Oliver. Please, just go.”
The words were what he expected. But they didn’t hurt any less. He didn’t move.
--
Couldn’t he just go? What else could she possibly say? What else could he say?
Why make this any worse than it already is?
“I know you’re upset,” he said, still hidden in shadows. His voice was low, soft. Sometimes she thought he only ever used that tone of voice with her.
“But I also know that you’ll understand one day. That I’m doing this for what could be.”
She whirled around to face him, loose hair flying across her face. The stuffed bear clutched tightly in her hands. She’d understand? What an arrogant asshole!
“What could be, Oliver? What could be! No! No more! I already told you that I didn’t want this life. That I didn’t want maybes and one days and your goddamn martyr complex! So, no, Oliver. There is no ‘What could be’ between you and me. There is only what is. And that is nothing.”
His jaw tightened, and she knew she’d hurt him.
“That’s not true. Felicity. And you know it. You’re not a woman I love. You’re the woman I love. Don’t you get it? There is no one else for me. I’m doing this not for a maybe or a chance - I’m doing it for you. When Ra’s is dead you’re safe forever. Don’t you understand?”
“Why do you act like I’m stupid, Oliver? Why do you think I won’t understand?”
“Because, you’re a good person, Felicity. Because I’m not. Because the choices I’ve made and will make are not choices I’d ever want you to have to think about! Let alone decide –“
“So, you’re saying I’d choose wrong? That I’m not smart enough or hard enough to make the tough choices?” What was his problem? She had been working with him for years. She knew as well as anyone that sometimes the ends justified the means. She could make the hard decisions when she had to, god dammit. Letting him go fight Ra’s had been the most difficult thing she’d ever done.
“I know you can’t make the tough choices. And I don’t want you to have to!” he raised his voice to match hers and man was that infuriating! He didn’t get to yell! She was the one who was angry. Who had every right to be pissed off. Not him! He was so infuriating! She just wanted to -
He dodged out of the way when the stuffed bear came hurling at his head. It was reflex. She couldn’t help it.
--
He couldn’t help it. He laughed. The bear slumped at his feet and Felicity threw a hand out to point at him.
“DON’T YOU DARE LAUGH AT ME, OLIVER QUEEN!” Felicity was yelling. Again. Still.
Oliver decided to try a different tactic.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, you know,” he told her. Finally moving, he took a step forward and then another. This time, she didn’t step back from him.
“I know,” she said, simply. Her shoulders slumped as she let out a breath. Maybe her anger was dissipating?
“I was going to come here first,” he continued. “I did come here first. And you were gone. So I went to the lair. Also, empty, I might add.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. He took another step forward.
“And then I was going to say, ‘Hi.’” His voice lowered on the word. He pushed his hood back and watched her face. She was listening. That was good.
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I thought maybe you’d faint.” He took another step closer, “I’d catch you of course and then… then I’d tell you how much I missed you. How you were the absolute last thing to flash before my eyes when I thought I was going to die.”
A whimper escaped from her lips at that and she half raised a hand as if to touch him. He took that as a positive sign and moved forward again this time wrapping his arms around her like he’d wanted to do for months. For years. Forever.
“I’d tell you I am deeply and irrevocably in love with you, Felicity.”
And then he kissed her. He couldn’t not kiss her.
It wasn’t like their previous kisses. It wasn’t chaste. It wasn’t romantic. It was needy and hot and sloppy and perfect.
Her hands clutched at his jacket and he wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could. He didn’t want this moment to end.
--
Felicity moaned as she clutched at Oliver. Unable or unwilling to stop the sound as it slipped from her mouth, she didn’t know. This was part of it. This was part of her fantasies. And yet…
She didn’t stop kissing him. Not for ten minutes. Or an hour. What was time anyway?
She didn’t want to stop. Because she knew that when she did she’d have to say goodbye to him again. And she couldn’t take that again.
“Can you?” she panted against his mouth, hands traveling downwards grabbing at his back, his hips.
“What,” he asked, voice hoarse and breathy. “Anything, It’s yours.”
“Stay,” she told him. “Here. Tonight. Forever. Don’t leave.”
His mouth broke away from hers then, his forehead pressing against her forehead as he gathered her to him, pulling her even closer. “I’m never leaving you again, Felicity.” There was a seriousness to his tone that made her think that maybe this time it was it. Maybe this time it would work.
“Never. Do you understand? You’re stuck with me.”
She nodded against him, “Yes.”
This time she kissed him, hands clutching at his face, pulling him down to meet her. Yes, this was what she wanted. Oliver Queen. The Arrow.
“I love you,” she whispered.
--
Finally.