Chapter Text
“Oliver,” she slurs, her hand moving sloppily through the air and coming to rest again on the bed when it doesn’t come in contact with any part of his body. “Wha t’m ist?” she manages seconds later, just when he’d begun to think she’d forgotten all about this getting up at five in the morning nonsense.
And, though he knows his only chance to remain in bed, curled up next to the warm and inviting body of his wife is to lie through his teeth, what comes out when he actually opens his mouth is the truth. Even in the small things, he’s never been able to lie to her.
“Six fifteen.”
“Six …SIX FIFTEEN?” She’s sitting up in bed before he can try to distract her with hands and teeth and the promise of all the things they could get up to if they didn’t only…
Oh, yes, if they didn’t have a fifteen year and a five year old sleeping in the next room.
“Lyla is going to KILL me…” Felicity is out of the bed and into her shorts before Oliver can do much more than groan. “I promised her we’d all be down for breakfast at seven, and there’s no way I can get Connor and Tommy ready, much less Connor, Tommy AND you in thirty minutes. And, oh, God, nothing fits anymore. What am I supposed to wear?” she looks desperately around the room and her eyes seem to light up when she finds his half open suitcase. Ten seconds later she’s rolling up the sleeves on one of his button downs, and lecturing him at the same time. “No, don’t look at me like that. This is all yourfault, so I don’t care if watching me in your clothes makes you all hot and bothered because we don’t really have time for all of that, mister. And you know why we don’t have time? Because SOMEONE turned off my alarm.” she’s not really yelling, but her eyes are wide and her arms are moving and Oliver has never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
“You needed sleep,” he doesn’t even try to sound apologetic. It’s not like she’d believe him. “The past few weeks have been hard on you. Lyla will understand.”
“No, Lyla will not understand, Oliver, because we’re not telling her. We’re not telling anyone, not yet. I thought we’d agreed. This weekend is supposed to be about Sara. So you get up this instant, Oliver Queen, and help me get your sons ready, or I’ll …I’ll …”
“You’ll what?” He’s got her in his arms before she can formulate a response, and he figures he’s got at least thirty seconds before she slaps him, so he goes in for a kiss, and then promptly loses track of time. Her lips are soft, and one would think after almost ten years of knowing each other this would have gotten old, but it never has. He doesn’t think it ever will.
“I’ll …I’ll …I’ll…” she stammers as they come up for air minutes later.
“You’ll what?” he smirks.
“I’ll tell Lyla, and Thea and Laurel that it was all your fault!” she yells as she pushes at him and heads for the door. “And trust me, if you think having to deal with one hormonal woman and two kids in Disneyland is a problem; try dealing with THREE hormonal women and three kids!”
Math has never been one of his strengths, so it’s not till he hears the soft sounds of Felicity trying to rouse Tommy that her words finally hit him. “You meant ONE hormonal woman …right …Felicity …Felicity …tell me you meant ONE?”