Chapter Text
The first time she falls asleep in Verdant’s basement he doesn't notice right away.
It’s late.
He’s waiting for her to pull the information he needs off of an encrypted pen drive and breaking through this particular security software has taken longer than both of them expected.
It’s almost three and she’s been working on it since she arrived just after six.
He was hovering, but that distracted her, so after a while he and Diggle moved to the training mats and when Diggle called it a night shortly before two, Oliver turned to target practice in order to maintain his aim.
It’s only when he hears the soft beeping coming from the computer that he turns.
Felicity has her head down, pillowed on her arms, eyes closed.
And she must be asleep because the computer screen above her is saying the encryption is broken and generally right now she’d be punching the air and babbling away about her triumph.
But she’s not.
Instead she’s unconscious.
He puts the bow down and crosses the room.
In her sleep she looks young. Her glasses have been knocked off centre by the way her head is lying and a few stray curls have come loose.
One lock of hair lies over her mouth and nose and shifts in the breeze of her breath.
It feels like it would be wrong to wake her, but he can't just leave her here.
He needs the intel and she has work in the morning. She won't thank him for letting her rest.
So gently he puts his hand on her back.
“Felicity?”
She stirs and he squeezes her shoulder through the thin material of the cardigan she’s wearing.
“Felicity, wake up.”
Nothing.
She really is out for the count.
He considers.
“Felcity,” he says, “the server is crashing.”
Her eyes blink open and stare at him.
“Wuh? What? Which server?”
She blinks at him, pushing her glasses up to rub sleep from her eyes.
“The server’s fine,” he says, “you were asleep.”
“And you woke me with ’the server is crashing’?” She says, “are you trying to give me a heart attack?” But her tone is light, almost embarrassed and he can't help but smile at how flustered she is.
“For Thea I use shoe sales,” he admits, “I wasn't sure what would work on you.”
“’The new season of Game of Thrones is on?’” She suggests, “Or, ’Microsoft have just patched that damn bug in Windows 8 that you hate’?”
“I’ll try those next time.”
“Or really just ’wake up’ would probably work.”
“It didn't. I tried that first.”
“Oh,” Felicity says, “huh.”
“Your decryption programme worked,” he says, gesturing at the screens behind her.
“Oh,” she says, “yay.” She does a much smaller, tireder version of her usual jubilant fist pump. “What time is it?”
“Three.”
“Oh well,” she says, “I guess that’s all the sleep I’m getting tonight. And tomorrow is system upgrade day at work too. Seven AM start. I'm going to need a coffee IV.”
“Go home,” Oliver says. “This can wait.”
“That's not what you said earlier,” she says, her hands already flying over the keyboard.
“You’re no use to anyone if you’re too tired to type.”
“And here I thought it was concern for my welfare,” she says sardonically.
“It is,” he says, dropping one hand to squeeze her shoulder in friendly way. “This’ll keep. Go home.”
“You don't have to tell me twice,” she says, standing up, “except that in fact it turns out you do. But you don't have to tell me three times.”
“Okay,” he says and turns away.
“You're not leaving?” She asks as she slips on her jacket.
“I don't have a day job that starts in four hours.”
“No, you don't,” she sighs. “Good night Oliver. Don’t stay up all night.”
“Good night Felicity.”
And he goes back to his target practice and doesn't think much about it.