Work Text:
You’re My Happy Story
They leave Starling City on a Wednesday, just in time to feel the warmth of the setting sun on their skin, contrasting beautifully with the cool evening breeze. As the sun sets and dusk gives way to night, Oliver stops to lower the hood on the Porsche and then keeps driving. A bare sliver of moon sits in the sky, and Felicity comments that they’re only a few days away from the new moon. Oliver smiles; a sensation he’s only beginning to get used to again.
“Do you always keep up with the phases of the moon?” he asks.
Felicity gazes out the open window, lost deep in thought, looking up at the stars that have begun to light up the night sky. “When I was little, sometimes my mom would take a night off from work. She’d borrow a car – usually from whomever she was dating at the time – and drive us out into the desert. Far out, where the lights of Vegas couldn’t reach. We’d park in the middle of nowhere, throw a blanket on the ground, and just…look at them: the stars, the moon, anything we could see. I remember I used to point out all the stars I knew, all the constellations.”
Felicity turns to him, and in the dim light coming from the road lamps he can just make out her smile.
“Those were the only times she’d dress down. Jeans, boots, a t-shirt. Sometimes she’d even wear flannel.”
Oliver laughs, shaking his head.
“I can’t picture your mother in flannel.”
“She wouldn’t be caught dead in it, but on those nights it was just us, so it didn’t matter. We’d spend hours just looking at the sky. Watching for comets, wishing on falling stars. But as I got older, we went less and less. We were just so different; always interested in different things. Eventually we just sort of…drifted apart. The night I turned fifteen, I stole her boyfriend’s car and drove out into the desert by myself. But…it just wasn’t the same.”
Oliver glances over at her in time to see her face fall, and she turns her gaze back out the window. Oliver turns his own back toward the road, stretching out for miles before them. Dark, deserted, quiet. He thinks about the pair of backpacks and sleeping bags he has stored in the trunk, and an idea comes to him.
He smiles and turns to look at her.
“Hey.”
He reaches over and grabs her left hand, gripping it tightly. Felicity looks over at him and smiles sadly.
“What do you say we spend our first night out under the stars?”
Felicity’s face lights up, and she leans in closer and snuggles her head carefully on his shoulder.
“I’d like that.”
Five miles later, Oliver pulls off the road and parks them under the overhang of a cliff. He pulls out the sleeping bags and spreads them on the ground.
Under the brilliant spring sky, warm and safe and surrounded by peaceful quiet, Felicity tells him more about her mother. How different they’ve always been, but how alike she’s beginning to see that they really are.
“You’re both strong,” Oliver tells her softly.
“Yeah,” Felicity responds, moving her sleeping bag closer to him. Oliver takes one arm out of his own bag and pulls her close, and she snuggles up against his side. “She’s also smarter than I really give her credit for.”
“Oh yeah?” Oliver inquires.
Felicity shifts next to him, suddenly uncomfortable. “When Ray was in the hospital, after he got shot at the mayor’s office, my mom came to visit me. She told me she just wanted to be there for me. After I cured Ray with the nanites, he…he told me he loved me.”
She pauses, and Oliver waits patiently for her to continue.
“Ray told me he loved me, and all I could say was, ‘that’s a really nice thing to hear.’”
“Wow,” Oliver responds, unable to stop himself. Felicity shivers slightly, and he could kick himself for sounding so insensitive. He turns on his side and wraps his other arm around her, pulling her closer. Felicity turns toward him and rests her head on his chest.
“I didn’t say it back. Not then, and not ever. I left him alone in that bed; told him I was going to get jello, of all things. But I knew what I needed most.”
She shifts out of his arms and resettles next to him, leaning on her elbows with her head in her hands so she can look at him.
“My mom told me something I…well, looking back I realize it was something I already knew, but was too scared to admit. She told me I didn’t love Ray…because I was in love with you.”
Oliver smiles, unable to help himself. And still, he doesn’t say a word.
“Because of my dad, because of Cooper, I guess I’ve just…I’ve always been afraid of letting myself love someone. Afraid of letting people in, afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of being left alone. Again.”
“Felicity,” Oliver whispers soothingly. He reaches over and brushes a few stray tears from her cheeks, and Felicity smiles softly, leaning into his touch. She sighs.
“But my mom told me something else I needed to hear. She told me that sometimes we gotta take a chance, particularly for the people we care about.”
“Your mother’s a smart woman,” Oliver responds warmly. “I can see where you get it from.”
Felicity laughs, and she snuggles up against his side once more. She rests her cheek over his chest, listens to his heart beating slow and strong underneath her. Oliver lies back and wraps his arms around her, gazing up at the sky.
“I’m glad you took a chance on me, Felicity,” he whispers, kissing her gently on top of her head.
And Felicity smiles against him.
“Me, too.”
They sit quietly for a few minutes, just holding each other and staring up at sky. When Oliver finally breaks the silence, he asks her to show him the stars.
They don’t make it past the first constellation. Two minutes later, Felicity climbs into his sleeping bag and shows him stars of a different variety.
The next day they drive south, with no real destination in mind. At least, that’s what Oliver tells her. As it turns out, he knows where they’re headed, though he’s not picky about how and when they get there.
They spend Thursday night in a cabin on Lake Tahoe. Sitting outside on the cabin’s small porch, they make it to two constellations before they discover that Oliver has a real problem keeping his hands to himself. That night they make love on a white canopied bed vaguely similar to the red one on which they spent their night in Nanda Parbat. Except this time, when they fall asleep wrapped tightly around each other, they know they have all the time in the world ahead of them.
The next day in the car, around three in the afternoon, Felicity finally figures it out.
“Ol-i-ver,” she says warningly, drawing out his name the same way he likes to draw out hers. “Are we going where I think we’re going?”
Oliver glances over at her, heart skipping a beat. “You’re not mad, are you?” he asks worriedly.
Felicity feels her heart melt just a bit. It’s rare to see him so vulnerable. She glances back out of the window just in time to watch a sign that says “Las Vegas, 100 miles” zoom by. But the sight of the sign doesn’t fill her with the dread she thought it would. Instead, it makes her smile.
She turns back to him, taking in the nervous look on his face. She closes the space between them and kisses him gently on the cheek. His face relaxes and he lets out a breath.
“No,” she finally answers, gazing back out the window at the desert flying past them. “I think my mom deserves a ‘thank you.’”
Two hours later, Oliver and Felicity walk into a bar in Caesars Palace. Felicity finally spots her at a table in the corner. They’re feet away when she turns. She takes them in, standing hand in hand.
“Hi, M-”
Felicity never gets a chance to finish her greeting. Donna Smoak screams, jumps up and down (which is pretty impressive looking in four inch heels), and throws herself at the two of them, pulling them both into a hug as she screeches, “My babies!”
Oliver laughs as he wraps an arm around her, and the three of them hug awkwardly in the middle of the bar. Felicity smiles at Oliver over her mother’s head, knowing that she’ll never get tired of hearing him laugh.
While Felicity catches up with her mother, Oliver reserves them a room. Then he heads to the casino, losing himself in a few hands of blackjack.
Felicity finds him an hour later. Oliver takes his chips and leaves the game, heading back to the bar with her.
“So how much have you lost already?” she asks.
Oliver grins. “Actually, I’m a thousand dollars up,” he responds proudly, and Felicity smirks at him.
“You never told me you were a good gambler,” she says, pushing him into a quiet booth near the back of the bar.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Ms. Smoak,” Oliver answers cheekily. He winks, and the gesture sends shivers down her spine.
“Well,” Felicity responds, sitting down next to him and rubbing her hand slowly up his thigh, “we’ll have to do something about that tonight then, won’t we, Mr. Queen?”
Oliver trembles slightly at her touch, then smiles at her seductively.
“It’s a date.”
They pay for their dinner that night, but their drinks are on the house, courtesy of one Donna Smoak. They take advantage and get properly hammered. When they stumble out of the bar two hours later, Oliver wants to go back to the casino, insisting with a slight slur that he can double his money in an hour.
One hour and two drinks later, Oliver’s thousand dollars has dwindled down to ten, and Felicity laughs at him and drags him away from the table, insisting that he quit while he’s ahead.
They stumble into the elevator, and as the doors close Oliver glances down at the keycard in his hand.
“Room 323. So that means…floor number…ummm….”
“Three,” Felicity answers for him, quickly punching the button for the third floor, and before he knows what’s happening Felicity has him pushed up against the wall of the elevator, her hands roaming his body, lips attacking his. Oliver moans and reverses their position, shoving her up against another wall and gripping her ass in his hands.
Oliver nearly takes her right there in the elevator, but he’s stopped by the sound of a couple gasping as the door opens on the third floor. Oliver pulls himself away from her slightly and grins sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he gasps out, even though he’s not sorry at all. Felicity just laughs at him as she grabs his hand and drags him down the hallway. He lets her take the lead, liking the view of her from behind. He reaches a hand down to her ass again but she swipes it away, stopping in front of room 323 and putting the keycard in the slot.
“When did you even get that?” he asks, hands running over her hips.
“When you were busy shoving your tongue down my throat,” she responds matter of factly, pushing the door open, and Oliver follows her into the room, desire making his body tremble. Once they’re inside, he grips her hips tightly and spins them around, using her body to slam the door closed behind them. She gasps as her back hits the door, and Oliver pauses, afraid he’s hurt her.
“Are you-”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before her lips are on his once more, and he swallows the sound of her moans, grabs her ass, and lifts her up against the door. She wraps her legs around him tightly and doesn’t let go.
They don’t make it to the bed.
Oliver wakes up the following morning alone and with a splitting headache. He opens his eyes to see that light is streaming in through the curtains, and he groans, pulling the covers up over his head. He wonders briefly where Felicity is before remembering that they’re in Vegas. He assumes she’s with her mother, and seeing as his head is trying to pound out of his skull Oliver finds he’s more than happy to spend the morning alone in bed sleeping.
As it turns out, Felicity has other plans.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” she whispers soothingly from somewhere above him, and Oliver groans as she pulls the covers off his head, sitting down next to him on the bed.
“I brought you something,” she says cheerily; too cheerily, if you ask him. Oliver turns to her with a sigh, and she shows him a bottle of pills and a glass of water. “Regretting those last two drinks, aren’t you?” she asks knowingly. Oliver slowly sits up in bed, hating when she’s right (which is more often than not). He silently takes the bottle from her and pops four pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry like a pro.
“Show off,” she laughs, handing him the glass of water anyway. “Drink up. It’ll help.”
Oliver does as she asks, without complaint. When he’s done he hands her back the glass and she leaves to refill it. Oliver glances slowly toward the window, and the light seems just a bit less harsh.
When she returns a minute later, Oliver expects to find another glass of water. Instead, she sits down next to him and holds out a plate. On the plate is a small piece of cake, just big enough for two, and in small script the icing reads “Happy Birthday!” Stuck into the top of it is a lit candle.
His birthday. Oliver completely forgot about his birthday…but apparently Felicity did not. He takes the plate from her, staring down at the cake.
“You might want to blow it out soon,” she says with a smirk. “While we’re still young.”
Tears rise in his eyes unbidden, and before he even knows what he’s doing he puts the plate down on the bed beside them, reaches over, and pulls her into a hug.
She holds him tight and smiles against his neck.
“Happy birthday, Oliver.”
After they’ve finished the cake, he drinks another glass of water and they order a huge breakfast from room service. Between the pills, the water, and the greasy food Oliver feels his hangover disappearing.
Just in time, too, because it turns out she has a surprise for him.
Oliver’s proud of his self control that morning; they have sex just once before showering, getting dressed, and leaving the room (she doesn’t take too much convincing beyond Oliver pointing into the bathroom and saying, “but it’s a JACUZZI, Felicity!”).
Felicity calls her mother while Oliver returns their key, promising her that they’ll be back in a few days. Then she gets into the driver’s seat of the Porsche and heads out of Vegas.
She won’t tell him where they’re going, pointing out that it’s only fair since he brought them to Vegas without telling her. Oliver admits that she’s right, then smiles and settles back to enjoy the ride.
Two hours later, Oliver spots a sign for Death Valley National Park.
Back before the boating accident, Oliver had always liked going backpacking through the valleys, canyons, and dunes of Death Valley with his father, though he has no idea how Felicity could have known that.
She turns to him and smiles knowingly.
“Thea,” she answers simply, as though she’s reading his mind, and Oliver smiles back at her, more grateful than ever that he thought to bring those backpacks and sleeping bags.
They get there a little after noon and stop at the Furnace Creek Visitor Center to check in and buy food and water. They pack up their backpacks and change into hiking gear; luckily, they’ve both packed sensible outdoor clothes, and Oliver’s impressed to discover that Felicity found the time that morning to go out and buy herself a good pair of hiking boots. Then they bundle back into the car and Oliver drives them out to what he assures her is one of the easier hiking trails.
And so Oliver Queen spends his thirtieth birthday hiking through the valleys and canyons of Death Valley with Felicity Smoak.
If you had asked him ten, eight, five, or even three years ago if he ever thought he’d find himself here on his thirtieth birthday, he would have called you crazy. Ten years ago, he couldn’t have imagined ever coming back here. Eight years ago, he couldn’t have imagined ever making it home to Starling City. Five years ago, he couldn’t have imagined living to see thirty.
And three years ago? Three years ago, he couldn’t have imagined he’d find himself holding hands with that bubbly blonde IT girl named Felicity; the same one he still remembered, even after all those years, as the one he saw at QC that night he returned to Starling City.
Now, sitting on top of a mountain in Death Valley, California, spread out on a blanket and munching on sandwiches, Oliver tells Felicity about that time he saw her five years ago. He tells her about why he returned to Starling City, how he broke into Queen Consolidated, how he saw her enter the office and babble about him to an empty room.
“If I remember correctly, that was not the most flattering picture of me,” Oliver says with a grin.
Felicity laughs. “Maybe not. But I was barely twenty-one at the time. I didn’t know any better.”
“Hey,” Oliver says with a laugh, slapping her playfully on the arm.
“You said it, not me,” Felicity huffs, and Oliver shakes his head before leaning over and kissing her softly.
“The point is I thought you were adorable,” Oliver continues. “I’d never even met you, and you didn’t even know I was there, but…you made me smile,” Oliver says with wonder, as though the simple act of smiling was like a miracle to him…because back then, it was. “You made me smile during a time when I had very little to smile about. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled; the last time I was happy. You gave me that.”
Felicity blushes just the slightest before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss.
“I’m glad I could help,” she whispers breathlessly as she pulls away. “And I hope I can keep making you happy for a long time.”
Oliver puts his hand on her cheek, and she leans into, closing her eyes.
“Hey,” Oliver whispers, and Felicity opens her eyes and beams up at him.
“You will always be my Felicity,” he says softly, stroking her cheek.
The double meaning of his words is not lost on either of them. She will always be his girl, his Felicity…and she will always be his happiness.
Felicity smiles through the tears rising in her eyes and kisses him again.
They spend the rest of Oliver’s birthday hiking through canyons and over sand dunes, taking in the beauty of the desert around them. At Felicity’s insistence, they stop and take pictures, because she promised Thea that she would keep her posted on what they were up to.
“PG13 only, of course,” she adds, snapping a photo of them in front a canyon wall strewn with so many colors it looks like a Jackson Pollock painting.
“I should hope so,” Oliver says with a laugh. If his time in Nanda Parbat was good for anything, Oliver’s grateful that it brought the two most important women in his life closer together.
When it starts to get late, they park themselves under a tree well off the beaten path on Dante’s Peak, and they watch the sun set. They watch as the sky turns from a brilliant red orange to a deep, dark indigo. They watch the tiniest sliver of moon appear in the sky.
And as Oliver’s thirtieth birthday draws to a close, Felicity shows him the stars.
The view from on top of the mountain is incredible. So far from any cities, the air is clean and clear, and it’s the best view of the night sky that either of them has ever seen. And that, according to Oliver, is mostly due to the fact that it’s just the two of them: together…and happy.
“I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” Felicity says with a sigh, snuggling closer to Oliver in their sleeping bag (the second one, as has quickly become custom, lies abandoned beside them).
“I’ve never been this happy,” Oliver says, and as the words leave his mouth he knows them to be true.
Felicity smiles at him, brighter than the stars in the sky, and she leans up and kisses him tenderly. When they finally pull away, she rests her forehead on his and whispers breathlessly, “I love you, Oliver. I love you so much.”
Oliver smiles against her lips and whispers, “I love you, too, Felicity. Always.”
They fall asleep, wrapped up snuggly in their sleeping bag and tightly around each other. They wake the next morning just in time to turn around and watch the sun come up.
As Oliver Queen watches the sun rise over the desert mountains, his arms wrapped tightly around the woman he loves, he suddenly realizes that yesterday was the first time he celebrated his birthday in nearly a decade.
The thought fills him with nothing but happiness.
…the end…