Work Text:
When he and Felicity had returned to Starling, the question of whether they would live together was moot. There was no way either of them were willing to live separately. Not after five months together--the best, most challenging, happiest, most life-altering months of his life. Really, the question was where they would live together.
Oliver thought they might get a place together--a condo, maybe a house even. Someplace that was theirs. Felicity had seemed a bit hesitant about the idea, but she was willing to look, she said. Being CEO of a billion-dollar company took up a lot of time, though. At least, it did when you were actually running the company instead of barely being more than a figurehead.
So it was three months later and they hadn’t done any house hunting. Instead, they had basically ended up living in Felicity’s apartment. It was small and cozy, warm and inviting. When he stepped inside, he always felt like Felicity was giving him a hug.
And best of all, her bedroom windows faced southeast, so the room caught the morning sunlight. Because there were few things on Earth he enjoyed more than watching Felicity sleep as sunlight fell over her face.
Well, there were a lot of things that he enjoyed more, Oliver thought with a half-smile, half-smirk. But since all of those things involved Felicity, he thought it was okay to exaggerate a little. There was just something about the pale yellow light falling over her face, giving her a glow. The early-morning sunshine brought out the shine in her hair. And with how the sun’s rays increased the temperature in the room, Felicity always kicked off the covers in her sleep as morning approached, exposing her beautiful body to his appreciative, adoring eyes.
Last night, the January air had a distinct chill to it. Felicity had fallen asleep wearing his Henley from yesterday. But her perfectly-shaped legs were bare, and they were entangled with his as he watched her.
His shirt was big on her, the sleeves swallowing up her hands and one of her shoulders was nearly revealed by the neckline. It was all he could do not to touch her: to run his hand over her leg, lingering on the spot behind her knee that made her gasp softly, or fluttering his thumb against the crease where her leg met her torso and she was oh-so-slightly ticklish. Or he could lean in, and kiss her collarbone, before trailing his lips to her neck and up, sucking and licking and kissing her warm, soft, smooth skin . . .
No. Felicity needed her sleep, and there was another question in his mind, one that he could only puzzle out when Felicity was absent or unaware of what he was doing.
Ever since they had to come back to Starling City--in the wake of Ray Palmer’s disappearance, Felicity being named CEO of Palmer Tech, and Thea’s delayed reaction to the Lazarus Pit--Oliver had been doggedly working on dealing with his issues. Trying to make sense of his PTSD, with his need to protect warring with his loved ones’s need to live their own lives and make their own choices. And he was making real progress, he thought. He was becoming a better man. Not that he hadn't been trying to become just that since he met Felicity, but his focused work was starting to yield actual results.
It made him feel like maybe, just maybe, on those days when he felt particularly competent . . . it made him feel ready to make a real commitment to Felicity. One that went beyond the one he made in May, the one in his heart that he had expressed in a thousand little ways. It seemed time for a big commitment.
He had known for months that he wanted to marry Felicity someday. It seemed like it was time to let her in on that desire.
Before the island, just the thought of living with Laurel had lead to his massively successful sabotage of their relationship, with bonus death and five years in hell. After he came back, he had thought marriage and children and a life were out of his reach. Because he wasn’t ready, because no woman deserved to be saddled with him, because he couldn’t let anyone in and risk their safety.
There were still times those thoughts arose in his head. But he was getting better now at facing his fears and living with them.
And then there was Felicity.
Oliver’s eyes were drawn to her face, soft and relaxed in sleep. She believed in him, with a fierceness and determination that he had never expected. But it hadn’t taken long for him to need her support, her approval, her respect and her trust and her love. As long as she was by his side, he could do anything. And ever since he had asked her to run away with him, he had made sure she had his support. She had always had it, but it was different now.
If Eobard Thawne was right--if he did live to be eighty-six--the only way that would happen was with Felicity. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. And he wanted her to know that. To never doubt his commitment to her.
Reaching out, he gently tucked some of her hair out of her face. Felicity stirred, slowly coming awake. He did his best to tuck his thoughts away as he smiled at her. When her eyes focused on him, a slow, happy smile spread across her face. “Hi,” she said, her voice all low and sleepy and sexy.
“Hi,” he said, leaning down and brushing a soft kiss over her lips, in deference to her worries about morning breath. Something she hadn’t stopped worrying about even after eight months, which was really just . . . adorable.
“Mmmm,” she said, snuggling in against him. “Wish we could stay right here. But I’ve got a company to run.”
The surprise and happiness in her voice, even after three months of success, made Oliver smile wider. “You do. We’re still on for lunch, right?”
Felicity nodded, nuzzling his neck. “Yep. Gerry keeps my schedule way better than I kept yours. I have a standing lunch date with my boyfriend, every Tuesday and Friday. And today is Friday.”
“Yeah, it is,” he said, kissing her temple.
“What are you doing today?” she asked, lifting her head a little and squinting at him.
That . . . that was a really good question. Because if he was going to propose, he wanted to get some advice. He had a lot to prepare, after all, and he wasn’t really sure how to get started. Should he get a ring? Make reservations at some fancy restaurant? Take Felicity someplace that was significant to their relationship?
He just didn’t know.
“Um . . . actually, I have some stuff to take care of before lunch,” he said, hoping he sounded casual. “Probably go over some things with Digg. Check up on Thea.”
She nodded, her eyes searching his face. “You know, if lunch doesn’t work today--”
“Hey,” he said, gently interrupting her. “It’s nothing that will interfere with our standing date.” He smiled at her and leaned in for another kiss, only for the shrill tones of the alarm on Felicity’s phone to pierce the air.
With a groan, Felicity rolled away and turned off the alarm, then looked back at him. “Okay. You should know that I’m okay with you cancelling lunch if it’s necessary, but I have a two-hour budget meeting this morning. So having my hot, sweet boyfriend bring me lunch is definitely something that’s going to help me get through all the financial mumbo-jumbo.”
Oliver couldn’t help beaming. Whether it was from Felicity calling him her boyfriend, knowing that she was counting on him, or the fact that she was still willing to put him first even when she wanted him . . .
God, he loved her so much. And he wanted to marry her.
“Do you want your hot boyfriend to bring you Chinese or Mexican?” he asked, leaning in for another kiss.
“Mmm--Chinese, please,” she said, pecking his lips and then slipping out of bed. “And I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Oliver said, pushing himself up on one arm and watching her grab what she needed before stepping into the bathroom.
So . . . how was he going to do this? Oliver flopped down on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling.
Maybe he had already figured out what to do, with his answer to Felicity’s question about his day. Because talking to Digg or Thea about this wasn’t a bad idea. He’d want them both to know, of course, about his desire to propose, but he wasn’t sure who to talk to first. Thea was his sister . . . but Digg had experience with proposing.
So who should he talk to first?
Lyla’s face immediately brightened when she opened the door. “Oliver! It’s good to see you,” she said with a smile.
He smiled back and lightly kissed her cheek. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Come in--Johnny was having some last-minute daughter time before I take Sara to Baby Yoga and storytime,” she said, stepping back from the doorway.
“Baby Yoga?” Oliver asked with a cocked eyebrow and a smile.
“Quiet,” she said, slapping his shoulder as she closed the door behind him.
The friendship that had formed between himself and Lyla over the last three months had become very important to him. Not just because Lyla had helped Digg and Oliver begin mending their broken fences, but because she had invaluable knowledge and resources--knowledge that helped keep the team safe.
Oliver might have hung up the hood, but he cared about the team. And the city. He was just trying to find another way he could save Starling City.
“Johnny, I’ve got to get going--and you have a visitor.”
“I do?” Digg said as he stepped out of Sara’s room, carrying his fifteen-month-old daughter. As soon as she saw Oliver, Sara Diggle let out a little squeal and wiggled, reaching her arms out to Oliver.
Lyla chuckled and lifted Sara from Digg’s arms. “I know, you wanna have time with Uncle Oliver. Later, baby--they need to talk about very important manly things, I bet.”
Pressing his lips together, Oliver gave Digg a sheepish look. The other man just quirked an eyebrow, looking amused. They couldn’t say anything during the flurry of goodbyes, but within a few moments, they were alone together.
“Important manly things, huh?” Digg asked.
“I didn’t say that,” Oliver said quickly. “Although I do have something to talk to you about. If you’ve got the time.”
Being a better friend--doing things right and making better decisions--that mattered to him more than ever. Breaking Digg’s trust had hurt even more than Oliver had realized it would, and their friendship still hadn’t fully recovered. It made him more cautious.
Digg chuckled and gestured for Oliver to follow him. “I do. You want some coffee?”
“Yeah, that would be great,” Oliver said, rubbing his hands against his jeans as he walked into the kitchen behind Digg.
Telling Digg his plans, saying out loud that he wanted to propose . . . it would make this real. Certain. It wouldn’t be something he dreamed about anymore, or told himself that someday he would do. It would be something he was doing now.
“So what’s going on?” Digg asked, handing him a cup of coffee. “You and Felicity are good, right?”
Unable to hold back his smile, the one that automatically came at the thought of Felicity, Oliver nodded. “Yeah, we’re good. That’s actually why I’m here.”
“Oh?” Digg asked with that same raised eyebrow.
Taking a long look at Digg, Oliver shook his head. Was there anything that his former bodyguard missed? “C’mon, John. You’ve already guessed what’s going on.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been waiting for this day for, hmm, a year and a half? Closer to two years, maybe. I just wanna hear you say it,” Digg said, grinning as he took a sip of coffee.
He had missed this. Having easy conversations with Digg, feeling the comfort of talking with someone who understood him. Not that Felicity didn’t get him, but it was such a different dynamic with her. His friendship with Digg, that feeling of having a brother-in-arms . . . it had helped keep him safe. Had been as important for bringing him to this place as falling for Felicity.
“All right, then,” Oliver said, sucking in a breath. “I . . . I’m going to propose. I’m going to ask Felicity to marry me.”
Digg’s response was immediate, obvious and reassuring. A pleased, proud smile appeared on his face, before he set down his coffee mug and held his hand out to Oliver. “Congratulations. And it’s about time.”
The last time Digg had offered him a handshake, Oliver had hugged him instead. Things were too fragile between them to do that. But after Oliver took and shook Digg’s hand, he leaned in and patted Digg’s back. “Thank you, John.”
He could feel Digg tense slightly, and then his hand was patting Oliver’s shoulder, returning his gesture. “You’re welcome.”
Drawing back, Oliver cleared his throat and tried to lighten the mood a little. “So did anyone have January in the pool? Because I bet there was a pool.”
“Roy and me had one for when you two would get together,” Digg admitted with a grin. “And I’m not gonna lie, Thea was convinced you’d pop the question at Christmas. She said you were sappy enough to do it then.”
“I had no idea,” Oliver said, picking up his coffee mug.
Digg shrugged a shoulder. “So how are you going to do it?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Oliver said. “You’re the only person I know who’s married.”
“And you thought to get advice from me?” Digg asked, sounding surprised. “I am the wrong person to ask about romantic proposals.”
“You’ve asked Lyla to marry you twice and she’s said yes both times,” Oliver pointed out, quirking his lips in a small smile. “You must have done something right.”
Snorting, Digg shook his head. “The first time, we were both finishing up our tours but it looked like Lyla was going to be sent back out. So we got married to make sure we’d get leave together. And the second time, she was recovering after the Captain Boomerang attack.”
“Oh,” Oliver said, the word slipping out.
“But, hey, that doesn’t mean I can’t listen to your plans--give you some feedback,” Digg replied quickly.
“I don’t have any plans,” Oliver said, running a hand over his face. “Talking to you was kind of my starting point.”
Digg frowned and Oliver felt his spirits sink. If he couldn’t figure out what to do . . . what if he messed this up? What if Felicity said no? She didn’t seem that interested in getting a place together, one that was theirs. As much as he loved living at Felicity’s place, he still felt a little bit like a guest. What if she didn’t want a commitment with him?
No. This wasn’t helping. Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He loved Felicity and he knew she loved him. If she wasn’t ready for more, they would handle it. But that didn’t mean he should ignore his own desires. And he wanted to propose. No . . . he needed to.
“Okay,” Oliver said, opening his eyes. “Um, I need a plan.”
“How soon do you want to do this?” Digg asked, leaning back against the counter. “What kind of window are you looking at?”
The clear, direct question focused Oliver’s thoughts and helped him finish pushing away his doubts. “This weekend, I think. Maybe tonight, if I can get all the pieces in place.”
“Not a lot of time, if you want to do big and fancy like you rich people do,” Digg said with a small smile.
Oliver huffed out a laugh. “Not really that rich, Digg. Not like I used to be. Back then, I could have taken Felicity to Paris or Hawaii to propose. Now? I think I’m going to have to keep it to the continental United States.”
“And Felicity would know something was up if you whisked her off on a trip like that,” Digg pointed out.
Nodding, Oliver considered what should go into his proposal. “What about a ring?”
“I didn’t have one either time,” Digg commented.
“I kind of want to have it,” Oliver said slowly. “Not to show off or buy her affections. Just . . . just for her to know how serious I am.”
“I think she knew that a long time ago, Oliver,” Digg said, his voice compassionate. “Why else would it have taken you two so long to get together, if both of you weren’t serious about what you have?”
Something about Digg’s wisdom never failed to relax Oliver. He smiled a little. “Or I just had my head in my ass.”
“That, too,” Digg said with a smirk. “So, you gotta have some family jewelry kicking around, right? You could use a Queen family heirloom.”
A memory of their first case together, when Felicity made that innuendo about his family jewels, made Oliver smile to himself before he returned to the matter at hand.
“I think there are--Thea would know more about that then I would,” Oliver mused, finishing his coffee. “Although maybe I should get something new. What I have with Felicity--it’s not like anything I’ve ever had. It’s new. So maybe the engagement ring should be new.”
Digg inclined his head in a nod. “Yeah, maybe.”
Kleinsmith’s was one of the oldest jewelers in Starling City, one that had been patronized by the city’s first families for over a century. His father had brought him here to pick out gifts for his mother, for her birthday and Christmas and Mother’s Day. When Thea was old enough, Oliver would bring her along for them to pick out something for their mother--and one of the last things he did before the island was pick out Thea’s first piece of ‘grown-up’ jewelry at Kleinsmith’s.
So what better place to buy an engagement ring for Felicity?
“Ah, Mr. Queen,” was the greeting from Al Kleinsmith, the grandson of the founder. He smiled at Oliver as he stepped up and offered his hand. “It’s good to see you.”
“You’ve known me since I was a kid, Mr. Kleinsmith--Oliver, please.” Shaking his hand, Oliver smiled at Mr. Kleinsmith.
“All right, Oliver,” Mr. Kleinsmith said. “How can I help you today? Perhaps something for your sister?”
Chuckling at Mr. Kleinsmith playing dumb--since a man like him made it his business to be aware of all the social goings-on in Starling City--Oliver shook his head. “No, not today. I’m actually . . . I’m actually in the market for an engagement ring.”
Mr. Kleinsmith smiled brightly. “What wonderful news, Oliver. Let me show you some options I think you might like for your intended. Something simple, since she’s a professional woman, so I’ve heard?”
Oliver nodded. That was another reason he had come here: Mr. Kleinsmith had the knack for knowing what you wanted before you knew. “Exactly. She shines on her own. She doesn’t need a big diamond to do that.” Oliver paused, then smiled sheepishly. “But I still want to put a big diamond on her finger.”
The older man laughed and nodded. “Of course, Oliver. Give me one moment.”
Smiling, Oliver let Mr. Kleinsmith go through the display cases. While he waited, he called in the Chinese food order for his lunch with Felicity. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to get through lunch without blurting out a proposal, but Felicity deserved a real proposal. Besides, he wanted to drop by Thea’s place after he got the ring and ask for her opinion. And tell her that he was going to propose.
“Here we are, Oliver,” Mr. Kleinsmith said, bringing over a velvet-covered tray that held three rings. “All of these options have coordinating wedding bands, but perhaps you’d like to wait on that.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning in a little to look at the rings. Taking a deep breath as the seriousness of this sank in. He was buying an engagement ring. Something he never thought he would do.
Mr. Kleinsmith’s voice was gentle and easy as he showed Oliver each of the options. “This round diamond has a very unique band--it locks in place with the wedding band to present a very clean, finished look. Then, we have the emerald cut on this ring: classic, very clean, but still gives you that dramatic presentation you’re looking for,” the jeweler said with a wink to Oliver.
“Now, this ring,” Mr. Kleinsmith said, picking up the third pick, “is quite lovely. Round diamond with baguette stones on either side. Strong, distinctive--a ring for a special woman.”
Sucking in a breath, Oliver reached out to take the ring from Mr. Kleinsmith. “This one,” he said, examining it closer.
It was the strangest thing, but looking at that ring, Oliver could see it on Felicity’s hand. Could imagine her typing away at a computer, holding a container of Chinese food, stroking his chest--all while wearing this ring.
The smile on Mr. Kleinsmith’s face was wide and pleased. “Then let’s make arrangements for payment. Congratulations, Oliver.”
After a moment, Oliver came out of his daydream and nodded quickly. “Yes, okay. Thank you, sir.”
“You’ll have less nerves for your proposal if you know you have the right ring,” Mr. Kleinsmith said with a smile. “We’ll give this ring a light cleaning while I take your information.”
Reluctantly, Oliver let Mr. Kleinsmith take the ring, then he rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting eagerly until he would have the ring back, in the distinctive dark-green velvet box that Kleinsmith’s used.
XXX
Oliver picked up his pace as he walked up to Thea’s apartment building. While he and Felicity were gone over the summer, Thea had sold the loft she had bought the previous fall and moved into a smaller place. Still modern and open, but more suited to a girl on her own, as she had explained to Oliver.
It was a good place for Thea. And it was good to see his sister getting better, after dealing with the delayed aftereffects of the Lazarus Pit. He was excited about telling her his news.
If there was anyone who had been asking questions about his relationship with Felicity, about whether he was going to make more of a commitment to her, it was his sister. It was a tossup who would be more upset with him if things fell apart between him and Felicity: Digg or Thea. Because Thea had gotten very close to Felicity, which didn’t surprise Oliver at all. That was so Felicity, to get close to people naturally and form such close relationships.
Jogging up the steps of the building, Oliver pressed the button to buzz Thea’s apartment.
“Hello?” his sister said sleepily over the intercom.
“It’s me, Speedy,” he said, smiling a little at the nickname. In spite of his efforts to have Thea’s codename be Speedy, Digg had pointed out that too many people knew it as his nickname for Thea for it to work as her secret identity. So Thea was Red Arrow in the field, and Speedy to him.
“Hey, Ollie,” she said before unlocking the front door for him. He pulled the door open and headed up to the third floor.
Thea was standing in the doorway of her apartment, wearing a t-shirt and yoga pants with a mug of coffee in her hand. Except for the coffee and the short hair, she reminded him so much of the sister he had left behind eight years ago that he couldn’t help dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Hey.”
“Someone’s feeling cheerful,” Thea said, following him into her apartment.
Smiling, he nodded a little. “I am. Dropped by Digg’s place earlier, just finished lunch with Felicity . . . but I have something I wanted to talk to you about.”
His sister quirked an eyebrow but kept drinking her coffee. Unable to hold back, Oliver said, “I’m going to ask Felicity to marry me.”
He grinned as Thea snorted, yanking her mug away with coffee dripping from her chin. “Damn it, Ollie!” she said, grabbing the napkin he held out to her. “You suck,” she told him grumpily.
“I know,” he said with a grin. “Sorry.”
She eyed him and tossed the napkin on the counter. “So you’re finally proposing, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say finally . . . Felicity and I have only been dating for eight months,” Oliver said, shifting his feet.
“Please, from the minute I saw you two together, it was like you were married,” Thea said with an eye roll.
“So . . . so you approve?” Oliver asked, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the counter as he looked at her.
For a long moment, he could see her thinking. A soft, sad expression flashed across her face, and Oliver suspected she was thinking of Roy. Then she took a deep breath and looked at him. “I do, Oliver. Not that my opinion would or should change your mind, but I love Felicity like she’s my sister. And she loves you as much as you love her.”
There was a lump in his throat, so all he could do was straighten up and move around the counter, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. He felt so much gratitude at this moment, to have his sister after nearly losing her. And so ready to create a family with the two most important women in his life.
When he drew away, he could see that Thea was equally affected. He gave her a small smile. “You want to see the ring?”
Her face lit up. “You got a ring already? When did you get it? How long have you been wanting to propose?”
“This morning and since this morning,” he said, drawing the box from his pocket and holding it out to her.
“You’re moving fast,” Thea said, taking the ring box but not opening it yet.
“I’m ready,” he said simply.
Thea gave him a long look, then opened the box. She sucked in a breath. “Oh, wow, Ollie.”
“Do you think she’ll like it?” he asked, feeling his nerves return.
“She’ll love it,” Thea said, smiling at him. “I can’t believe my big brother picked this out, all on his own.”
“Not exactly--I went to Kleinsmith’s, since I knew Al Kleinsmith would use his magic to help me find the right ring,” Oliver admitted.
His sister laughed and nodded, before closing the ring box and handing it back to him. “Still, nice job. So, lemme guess: you’re proposing tonight?”
Sliding the box back into his pocket, he nodded. “That’s the plan. Not that I know how I’m going to do it . . .”
“If that’s how you’re going to ask me for help, you’re gonna hafta do better, Ollie,” Thea said with a smirk.
With a roll of his eyes, he picked up the dirty napkin and tossed it at her, only for Thea to neatly catch it and throw it back at him. He grabbed it out of the air and dropped it on the counter. “I think I’m capable of proposing to Felicity on my own.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
Oliver frowned. That was the thing: he wasn’t sure. Should he ask Thea for her help?
Rubbing his fingers together, Oliver considered what Thea said. He had never proposed to anyone. Not even Laurel--because they had both just known that at some point he would give her a ring and then they would be engaged. It was one of those things that was understood. One of those things he didn’t want to do, not that he understood why back then. That was why, when Laurel had suggested moving in together, he had bolted. Ducked Laurel’s questions about apartments, invited himself onto the Gambit, brought Sara along. He knew moving in together was the first step towards marrying Laurel, even if they had never talked about it.
But things were different now. Not just because of the woman in question. He wasn’t the boy who had run away from commitment. He was a man who wanted commitment now. He wanted a ring on his finger and one on Felicity’s, he wanted to buy a house with her, he wanted children. He wanted all the things that he never used to want, before they became things he didn’t think he deserved, and then turned into things he didn’t think he could ever have.
Which meant he couldn’t mess this up. He needed this proposal to be good. Perfect. In case Felicity was hesitant about changing her life like this, in case she was worried about adding something else to her already busy life, in case--
Oliver swallowed. In case Felicity had any doubts about him, about how he felt about her, he needed this proposal to put her mind and heart at ease.
Those were all good reasons to get Thea on board. To ask for her help, as his sister and as a woman. She was bound to know exactly what he should do, she would give him the help he needed, provide reassurance with a minimum of teasing or jokes. With how close Thea and Felicity were now, it would be the smart thing to do.
“Actually . . . yeah.”
Thea raised her eyebrows. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure I want to do this. On my own. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, Thea--I do. But I think I should do this myself.”
Her face looked slightly concerned, but Thea nodded and gave him a smile. “With that ring, you could ask Felicity to give up computers for a year and she’d at least consider it.”
“Don’t say things like that, Speedy--I’ll remember it at the worst time,” Oliver said lightly, grinning at her.
Laughing, Thea gave him a gentle punch in the shoulder. “No, you won’t. You’ll come up with something sweet and sappy and Felicity will barely let you finish the question before she’s saying yes.”
“Here’s hoping,” Oliver said, taking a deep breath. “Here’s hoping.”
XXX
Looking around Felicity’s apartment, Oliver tried to calm all the butterflies in his stomach. Maybe he should have tried to get a reservation at Table Salt . . .
No. That wasn’t them. And Felicity wouldn’t be swayed by a fancy dinner. She’d suspect something and become worried if he took her out to Table Salt for no reason. But a nice dinner at home on Friday night? That wouldn’t surprise her. He’d done it before, after all.
Okay, those other times, he had done the cooking, which meant the food was decent but not necessarily good. And there weren’t flowers and candles. But . . . but he thought it would be okay. That Felicity would just be happy to spend a night in with him.
Needing something to do with his nerves, he checked the time. Felicity would be home in about a half hour, so it was time for him to start reheating the food he had ordered from their favorite Italian place.
It had been one of the first dinners they had, once they returned to Starling: going to Antonio’s and having eggplant Parmesan and baked ziti. Part of their desire to put some ghosts to rest, as they transitioned back into their “normal” lives, to make sure they weren’t stepping onto any land mines. The metaphorical type, Oliver thought with a small smile. As much as he didn’t like remembering Felicity stepping onto a land mine on Lian Yu, he couldn’t deny that the memory of her body underneath his had been one he had thought about frequently. Back in the days before he knew what she meant to him.
But now he knew. Oliver knew that Felicity was all that mattered to him. And he hoped tonight would prove that to her in an all-new way.
He had just turned the oven on, double-checking the reheating instructions, when his phone rang. His heart pounded when he saw it was Felicity, but he did his best to make his voice sound normal as he answered. “Hey.”
“Hi!” she said brightly. “I’m leaving in maybe fifteen minutes? What do you want to do for dinner? I can bring home the Chinese leftovers . . .”
“Oh, I think we can do better than that,” Oliver said, hoping he sounded casual. “I got dinner from Antonio’s.”
Felicity let out a soft little hum that made him smile, even as his groin tightened. “Eggplant parm and you: exactly what I need tonight.”
And you are all I need, any night. All the time, Oliver thought to himself. “Be careful out there--the rain’s getting heavy,” he said, glancing over at the windows.
“I really wish people around here knew how to drive in the rain--but since they don’t, it’ll make my drive even longer,” Felicity said with a sigh. “But at least now I have eggplant parm to keep me going.”
“So that’s how it is,” Oliver said with a smile. “The food matters more than me.”
“Nothing matters more than you, Oliver,” Felicity immediately replied, a smile in her voice. “But Gerry’s still in my office, listening to this, so I can’t go into the exact specifics about you, me, and the eggplant parm.”
Oliver felt his ears go a bit red as he nodded. “Of course. See you soon?”
“See you soon,” Felicity said with a giggle. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he replied just as Felicity hung up.
Well, with the weather delaying Felicity, he had a little extra time. The last thing he needed, Oliver acknowledged to himself. But he had waited this long, he could wait a bit longer--
The ringing of his cell snapped his thoughts and Oliver scooped his phone up without looking at the screen, but assuming it was Felicity. “I hope you’re not driving and calling, Felicity--”
“Oliver, it’s Digg.”
It wasn’t just the fact that Digg was calling him--something that was still a bit out of the ordinary for their rebuilding relationship. But it was the sound of his voice.
“I’m sorry to do this, man,” Digg began, but Oliver interrupted him, feeling his nerves kick up again but for entirely different reasons.
“What’s wrong?”
A heavy sigh gave him an idea. “Laurel was staking out a building over on the east side--what we suspect is the new headquarters of a crew running an illegal gambling ring in the Glades. She saw something and went in, by herself. Thea followed her, but they need backup. But someone’s got to monitor the comms . . .”
Reaching out, Oliver shut off the oven. “Send me the address of the warehouse and tell Laurel and Thea I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“No, Oliver--I was calling to see if you could run the comms. I can get in there and cover Laurel and Thea.”
“Digg, it’ll be quicker for me to get there,” Oliver pointed out, heading towards the door. “You know that.”
His former bodyguard sighed again. “I know. I just don’t want to mess up tonight for you.”
“You’re not,” Oliver said, taking the stairs so he could keep talking to Digg. “I’m nearly to my bike now--get me the address.”
“Oliver, if you’re not sure about proposing--”
“Digg, I’m sure,” Oliver said. “I want to get this over with so I can get back before Felicity’s home. So I can tell her what I did before I ask her. Because she deserves to know why dinner’s not going to be ready, like I promised her.”
There was silence for a moment, then Digg huffed out a laugh. “After all those years of joking about how you two were married, it’s nice to hear you know what to do.”
He smiled tightly. “Nothing is worth losing Felicity’s trust. And she’ll understand once I tell her it’s Thea and Laurel.”
“Yeah, she will,” Digg said. “But let’s get you back to her in one piece and she’ll have an easier time with it.”
“Yeah,” Oliver said, reaching his bike. “Send me the address and let’s get this handled.”
Oliver cursed under his breath as he pushed his motorcycle faster. He had to get home. Felicity would be arriving any minute, and he had to be there. He could find a way to explain why dinner wasn’t ready, he could still find the right words to propose . . . but he had to get back to Felicity’s apartment before she did.
Because he needed to change his clothes and rinse the blood off his knuckles before he could tell Felicity what happened--and hope that she wouldn’t be so mad that he couldn’t propose. Because she was going to be mad. Her Loud Voice might even make an appearance.
Opening up the throttle, he put on some extra speed, zig-zagging through the traffic. He was nearly there, he was almost--
Shit, was that Felicity’s car?
It was, he confirmed after another look. Which meant he was in real trouble.
But he had grown up here and knew every street, road and back alley in Starling City. He could get home before Felicity.
He hoped.
Doing his best to keep his heart rate from spiking, Oliver turned off the arterial road that he--and Felicity--had been using, taking a path of right angles to get to Felicity’s apartment. It was a risk, but he’d rather be late than for her to see him on the road and get the wrong idea.
There was no sign of her car in front of her building when he pulled into his parking space, which he counted as a small victory. Moving fast, he stashed his helmet and ran for the front door.
Once he was inside the apartment, he dumped his jacket and started pulling his clothes off, dropping them as he hurried down the hall to the bedroom and then to the bathroom. Maybe the clothing would distract Felicity?
In the bathroom, he quickly scrubbed his hands and face and wiped a towel over his damp hair. Just as he was pulling on a dry pair of jeans, he heard the door to the apartment open and the click of Felicity’s heels.
“Oliver? I . . . I don’t smell Italian food. And--oh my God, why are your clothes everywhere? Aren’t you the one who is pathologically incapable of not using the hamper?”
He quickly stepped out of the bathroom, not grabbing a shirt accidentally on purpose and pasting a smile on his face. “Sorry, I can explain,” he said, bending down to gather up his clothes.
“Oliver?” Instead of sounding surprised, now she sounded cautious. Wary.
“Let me--let me just get these taken care of,” he said quickly, trying to get everything figured out in his head. Apology and explanation, dinner, proposal. He could do this. He had to do this--because he had realized that not having Felicity as his wife was just . . . unthinkable.
Of course, since she was Felicity, and she hated mysteries and knew him better than he knew himself, she didn’t let him hide from her. She followed him into the bedroom. “Okay, Oliver, this is all very weird, even for us, so, please, just--just talk to me?”
He put the clothes in the hamper before he turned to face her. She was wearing one of his favorite dresses, a sleek grey and blue one that made her figure look even more mouth-watering. Her hair was back in a ponytail and she was wearing her glasses, her lips painted a bright pink.
It was like seeing her for the first time, in her office at Queen Consolidated. And in the Foundry, waking up after he had revealed his secret to her. And in his former home, telling her he loved her. And in Nanda Parbat, listening in shock as she said “I love you.” And stepping into this very apartment, wondering if their love would survive everyday life.
“I--I had to go help Laurel and Thea,” he blurted out. “They were in trouble, and I was closer than Digg, so even though I wanted to have dinner ready for you--” And find the right way to ask you to marry me, he thought.
“Wait, Laurel and Thea--are they okay?” Felicity interrupted, her eyes widening as she took a step towards him.
“They’re fine,” he reassured her, cupping her elbows in his hands. “I got there in time, they just needed an extra set of eyes there.”
Her shoulders dropped in relief, but her forehead was still wrinkled. “Why didn’t you just call and tell me what was going on? Or ask John, if time was of the essence?”
“I . . . I just didn’t think,” he said, which was the truth. Partly. Because mostly, he had been so concerned about getting back in time that he hadn’t even really considered what he would be walking into with Laurel and Thea.
“Oliver,” she sighed, sounding worried and frustrated and nervous. “If--if this is your way of saying you want to get back to work, you didn’t have to do it this way. I mean, we can talk about this.” She paused, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “We can talk about this, right?”
“That isn’t what’s going on, Felicity,” he said, moving closer to her. “It’s not about being the Arrow again. I can’t go back.”
He couldn’t get a read on her right now. He wasn’t saying anything they both didn’t know: with what had happened in the spring, anyone who appeared in green leather and a hood would be taken out by the SCPD. The Arrow identity was completely burned.
Felicity’s lips were trembling a little and she was looking at him without meeting his eyes. “I just--I don’t understand what’s going on, Oliver.”
“I can explain. All of it,” he promised her. “I swear. I just--I need to know if you’re angry with me. For going out there.”
“I’m not angry,” Felicity said slowly, words that made Oliver feel a tiny sliver of hope. “I’m . . . I’m a lot of things, but I’m not angry.”
“Okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her against his bare chest. She came willingly, her hands siding up his back to stroke his shoulders, and he felt like he could breathe. Like he could finally get his thoughts in order.
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Oliver decided to start from the beginning. “I didn’t tell you because I had plans for tonight, and I didn’t want to risk messing them up. I thought I could get in and help Laurel and Thea, without being late.”
“I thought we were just having dinner in and then curling up on the couch,” Felicity said, tilting her head back to look up at him. “You know, a fairly standard Friday night.”
“That’s what I wanted you to think,” Oliver replied, letting his hands smooth down her back, falling into place on her hips.
At that, her eyebrows drew together, like she was trying to figure out a particularly knotty piece of code, and she stepped back just enough that she was out of his arms. “And why did you want me to think it was a normal Friday night?” she asked, the coolness of her voice telling him he was on thin ice.
Oliver gazed at her face. This wasn’t how he had planned it. Well, doing the actual proposal hadn’t been planned at all. He had spent all day trying to come up with the right words, the right way to ask her. But his mind always went blank when he pictured her face, in the moment before he asked the most important question he would ever ask. More important than “Are you in?” or “Do you understand?”
“Because--” His voice sounded a bit strangled and he cleared his throat. “Because it’s not a normal Friday night.”
Turning quickly before she could say anything, he went to his side of the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. He snatched up the ring box and turned to face her again.
“It’s not a normal Friday night,” he repeated, opening the box and holding it out to her. “Because I’m going to remember this night for the rest of my life.”
Felicity’s eyes were huge behind her glasses, and her hands were flexing slightly at her sides. She opened her mouth, then closed it, apparently at a complete loss for words.
And that made him smile, because Felicity Smoak was almost never speechless.
“Felicity, will you marry me?” Oliver asked quietly, moving towards her. He plucked the ring from the box and took her left hand, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand.
The moment it took for her to speak felt endless and also like the blink of an eye.
“This--this is why you didn’t call me?” she asked, looking up at him. “You--you were worried about proposing?”
He nodded, the smile still on his face. “Yeah. I was a little distracted.”
“Oliver!” she said, slapping his shoulder. “Ow. You can’t go out in the field distracted. How many times did you yell at Roy or Laurel for that?”
“A lot,” he said, before giving her hand a squeeze. “And you’re right, it’s dangerous. But--but do you think you could finish yelling at me after you answer my question?”
A myriad of emotions flashed across her face: a flicker of embarrassment, a bit of frustration, and a lot of amusement. But most of all, love. He could see it shining in her eyes. Then she lifted her free hand to his face, her fingers sliding along his jaw. “Yes, Oliver.”
Yes? Did she mean--?
And then Felicity lifted herself on her toes and kissed him softly, and his arms went around her, and he knew that she meant yes.
“Just so you know,” she said against his lips, several minutes later, “I would have yelled at you afterwards whether I said yes or not. But I was always going to say yes, Oliver.”
He grinned widely at her, unable to help showing how happy he was. “You can yell at me all you want, as long as you’re wearing this,” he said, sliding the ring onto her finger.
The sparkle of the diamond was no match for the sparkle in Felicity’s eyes as she held her hand out, taking in the ring on her finger. Then she looked up at him and smiled at him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Oliver said, leaning down to kiss her again.
End.