Chapter Text
Jogging
The door swung open and Oliver was greeted with a vision of Felicity in 20 years. Donna Smoak, who a millisecond previous looked as though she was going to give him a piece of her mind, stared up at him speechless. The feeling was mutual. Had he known that Felicity’s mother was visiting he wouldn’t have banged on the door like some kind of barbarian at 7 in the morning. As it was he was on Felicity’s front steps, with one hand raised, in his jogging shorts, black t-shirt, and neon green sneakers jogging in place like a complete moron. Worse, he was sweaty, his shirt was sticking to him, and he just knew that his hair was sticking up in odd places. Judging by the shocked look on Ms. Smoak’s face he thought that maybe he should speak.
“I’m sorry Ms. Smoak. I didn’t realize that you were already here. I mean, Felicity said you’d be here but I didn’t know that she meant this morning.” Appalled, he could hear himself babbling but was unable to stop himself as he rushed to explain his behavior. “Obviously, if I’d known I wouldn’t have been knocking so loudly, or…”
“Donna, call me Donna,” Ms. Smoak, Donna, turned around and breezed back into Felicity’s house, pulling her fuzzy yellow bathrobe closer to her. Oliver hesitated at the threshold. He’d never actually been inside of Felicity’s home. He was hoping that one day she’d ask but…
Donna turned around and gave him a look that reminded him of Felicity so forcefully that he followed. Turning the corner Donna headed towards Felicity’s kitchen area while Oliver surreptitiously examined Felicity’s living space. Her front room was bright. A bright yellow throw lightened up her sand colored sofa, and her accent pillows were peppered with blue spots. A large window brought in streams of sunlight. For a second he imagined her lying on the floor and absorbing the sunbeams like a butterfly. Oliver shook his head. Did he really just compare the woman he loved to a butterfly?
Donna sat down at the small kitchen table, where her breakfast was laid out, and gestured around brightly, “Help yourself; I’m sure you know where everything is.”
Before he could ask her to explain her last sentence, Felicity stumbled down the stairs. He watched as the woman he likened to a butterfly not even two minutes ago, dragged her feet across the wood floor towards them. Her hair was piled in what he called a shower knot, and she was still wearing her penguin P.J.s.
Scuffing her way to the table Felicity rubbed her hand over her eyes, “Ugh, mom, if that’s the cat lady from next door, tell her I still don’t know where he is. It’s been three months. Maybe she should look into getting a new pet. Like a fish.” Oliver and Donna exchanged an amused look. Oliver tilted his head laughing to himself; clearly she’d forgotten their jogging session.
“Felicity,” her mother called.
Felicity rambled on, searching through her cabinets for something, “But maybe not a fish. Oliver told me that Thea, his baby sister, had one when she was little and it actually jumped out of the tank.”
Donna cleared her throat,
“Felicity?”
Finding a mug Felicity closed the cabinets and padded towards her sink…right beside Oliver. “Or was it a frog? Oliver, was it a fish or a frog?”
Oliver blinked at her in disbelief before he managed, “A frog.”
Felicity’s mug slipped from her fingers and broke in the sink as Felicity whipped her head around to stare at Oliver wide eyed.
“Oliver?” she gasped. Quickly he moved to pick up the handle of the mug she’d just dropped and handed it to her carefully.
“Sweetie, I was trying to tell you. Oliver’s here. Apparently, you were supposed to go jogging?”
“Jogging”, Felicity groaned at the same time. She squeezed her eyes shut and he heard her mutter, “I thought I was dreaming.” When she opened them a moment later she gave Oliver an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry Oliver I should have called you. I forgot to mention last night that my mother caught an earlier flight, so I wasn’t going to make it. I’m sorry.” Still clutching the handle from her broken mug in one hand, she reached for him as though to squeeze his bicep but he moved backwards. Felicity blinked at him, hurt showing clear on her face. Realizing that she thought he was rejecting her, again, he pointedly looked at the jagged mug handle sill in her hand,
“I prefer to bleed to death at night,” he joked.
Felicity snorted and he knew he was forgiven. Gently tossing the handle into the sink with the other shards, she asked, “We could run this evening? Mom and I sort of had plans…”
“Nonsense!” Donna broke in. “The man ran all this way to get to you, the least you could do is change and get going. Shoo! Shoo!” Felicity narrowed her eyes. Her mother had that gleam she got in her eyes whenever she saw a good deal at the store. Distantly, Felicity wondered if there was a pair of shoes somewhere that the older woman was looking to close the deal on.
Oliver shifted and drew Felicity’s attention back to him. “Is it okay if we run the short route today?” she asked.
Oliver gave her a beaming smile that took her breath away. Too late, she realized that he’d spoken and was waiting for a response. Thankfully, her brain was right there with the auditory memory, “That sounds great.” Tearing her eyes away from his lips, she looked at his eyes, which was not the best alternative. His nose! His ears! Anywhere but his eyes! She pleaded with her brain to come up with a response. Finally, it was Oliver who looked down and she was able to turn away. Friends.
Friends, that’s what they were. They were friends.
Oliver watched Felicity retreat as he repeated that mantra in his head. It’d been a week since he’d visited her at QC Palmer Technologies and as a show of friendship they’d agreed to resume their jogging sessions. It was something they’d enjoyed over the summer. But as he sat down beside Donna, who was eyeing him over her cup of orange juice he wondered how much longer he could stand to be just her friend. In his head he wanted mornings like this forever.