be us against the world - t - olicity - part 5 [a]
title: we keep all our promises (be us against the world)
category: arrow
genre: drama/romance
chapter rating: pg-13/teen
overall rating: nc-17/explicit
inspiration: gif (source)
word count: 12,166
summary: [au - no island] Oliver Queen has no idea what he's doing with his life, but when his father gives him an ultimatum, he has to figure it out. After meeting Felicity Smoak, he finds himself on a new path and his eyes are opened to what happiness really means and how finding it takes more courage than he ever thought he had.
Previous: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Interlude One, Interlude Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four,
dhfreak
V.
When Oliver finished high school, he remembered thinking how cool it would be to get out on his own, find an apartment, and live up the bachelor life. But, then graduation had come and gone and getting an apartment didn't really seem necessary, not when he was in and out of colleges, returning at random to his childhood home, to what he was used to. His mother always welcomed him back with a hug and a kiss to his cheek. She would sigh of course, in that exasperated way of hers that said she was used to this but wished it would change. He got really good at pretending that little bit of disappointment in her face didn't matter. While his father was always the one Oliver was desperate to please, his mother wasn't a soft, cuddly teddy bear either. She didn't ignore him, not really, she just… didn't know what to do with him.
If he had to describe his mother's parenting skills in one word it would be 'uncertain.' She never really seemed to know what she was doing, and so it made her seem awkward with her children, especially when they were young, clawing at her legs for attention, to be held, to be kissed and whispered to and snuggled. Moira Queen wasn't made of ice, she just didn't have the same instincts that Raisa did. Oliver never questioned that his mother loved him, she just showed it in other ways, and he'd come to expect that.
It was three days after his failed attempt to get his father to invest in him as a business owner that he nearly had everything in his room packed. His mother lingered in the doorway, watching him, uncharacteristically nervous, twisting her wedding ring around her finger and shifting her feet from time to time. He imagined this was new for her. When he finished high school, he left everything just as it was. He went off to college and lived in a dorm for some time, but it never stuck. He started coming home more often than not, until one day he wasn't in college any more. In the second college, he tried out the frat life, but even that didn't work as well as some might expect. Sure, he enjoyed the parties. It was the exact type of landscape he should have fit right in at. But Tommy wasn't there. And, while Oliver was a pretty social person, especially with women, his only real friend was his best friend. He used that as an excuse when he dropped out and returned home. He always had an excuse, some flimsy, some almost legitimate, but in the end they were all just a way to skirt around what never really worked in his life.
This was different, though.
This was him taking the step he never had before.
He was cutting ties to home, packing up his safety net and moving on.
He didn't have his own apartment to go to, paid for by his trust fund or his parents. He would be staying in Tommy's spare room until he got his feet under him. It still felt like relying on someone when he shouldn't have to, but he only had so many options, and asking his dad for help was out of the question. He needed to do this on his own. Oliver needed to show his father that he wasn't the screw up he thought he was.
"I never realized just how much you had in here…" Moira finally said, stepping into the room and casting her eyes around. "The walls seem so bare."
Oliver looked over at her, his brows furrowed when he heard the slight shake in her voice. "I'll still visit, mom. I'm not leaving permanently." He frowned. "Well, I am, just not… I mean, I'll be living somewhere else, but… this will always be home."
She nodded jerkily, wrapping her arms around herself and blinking quickly as she looked around once more. "You know where you'll be staying?"
"With Tommy, for now. Until we get some money for the club and get it going, I won't really have a steady income." He shrugged, packing the few books he'd enjoyed over the years into a box sitting atop his bed. "I already talked to Raisa, about coming by on Sunday for a family dinner… She said she'd make lasagna."
"That's nice. That's… I hope you'll visit, often," Moira told him, stepping up to the edge of his bed and smoothing her hand over the blanket for something to focus on. "Oliver, I… I hope you know that you father isn't doing this to punish you. I would never want you to leave. If it were up to me, you'd always be here."
"I know, mom."
"He just…" She shook her head, swallowing thickly. "You know, when you were a little boy, you used to dress up like him… Oh, you'd pull out your best suit and you'd slick your hair back with water. You'd tell everyone to call you 'Mr. Queen' and you'd play pretend-CEO. Anybody that asked what you wanted to be, you always had the same answer… 'I want to be just like my dad when I grow up.'"
Her eyes were misty as she smiled softly, tracing a pattern on his blanket. "Even though you grew up, I always thought that would stay the same. That first day that you went with your father to work at QC, I thought, 'This is it. He'll be just like him.'" Her smile dimmed then and she shook her head. "You'd shadow him until he felt you were capable and then he'd give you a job there, something with an office and a nameplate, and everybody would know it was just a placeholder until he was ready to retire… You'd eventually get used to the hours, adapt to that life, and give up on trying to find time to go out to the clubs. You'd probably be too tired or too bogged down with paperwork to even attempt a nightlife. So you'd get used to it and, in a few years' time, you'd ask Laurel to marry you, because it made sense. And as time went on, that little boy who wore a suit too big for him would grow into it. You'd become just like your father, with a job that always demanded more; more time, more energy, more you. And you'd have a beautiful family that loved you dearly, but that you rarely saw enough. You'd get used to that too, of course, and make excuses that, in order for your family to be well taken care of, this was what you had to do to make it happen, even if all they really wanted was some of your attention and time…"
She reached up to swipe at a fallen tear then and finally looked up at him. "I want you to know, Oliver, that the only regret I have in raising you is that I never asked the most basic question of all… What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Oliver stared down at her, her words ringing loudly in his ears. He walked to her, an ache in his heart, and he took her hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over the tops affectionately. "I did want to be like him. Some days I still do. I… More than I want to be him, I want him to like me for who I am…" He shook his head. "And I know I haven't always been likeable or easy to deal with or… the best son you could've asked for. But, I'm trying… I want to be me, and I don't completely know who that is, but I know it's not the CEO of Queen Consolidated. I know it's not a 9-to-5 office job or a Fortune 500 company. Right now, I want to open a club and see if I can do any of this on my own. If I fall flat on my face, okay, then I'll just have to get up and try again with something else." He smiled at her lightly. "I don't blame you, mom, not for anything. I had to grow up sometime and, it might not be what any of us expected but… I like where it's headed so far."
She smiled gently and let out a soft sigh. Not exasperated or angry, but accepting. She gave his hands a squeeze and then pulled him in for a hug. "On the record," she said against his shoulder, "I love you for who you are, and I always will."
He swallowed tightly as a well of emotion lodged in his throat. Closing his eyes, he hugged her a little tighter. "Thank you."
"And if you everwant to come home, for any reason, the door is always open." She rubbed his back. "I'll kick your father out onto the lawn if he says different."
He chuckled under his breath. "I'll remember that."
They held onto each other for a few moments longer before finally she drew back from him and cast her eyes around. "Now, did you need any help packing? I'll admit I haven't done it for some time, but I'm sure I can figure out how."
He nodded. "Sure. You can help me clean out my closet. I didn't realize just how much clothing I had until today."
Brightening, she clapped her hands together. "Oh, that's perfect! I've been putting together a clothing drive with Meredith Chambers, you know her, her son was arrested for possession last year. Anyway, we wanted to focus a little more close to home this year. There's a homeless shelter in the Glades, it's a few blocks over from your grandfather's house, actually, and it's been asking for clothing donations for some time. It's not uncommon for them to get more women's clothing than men's, so this is great timing. We'll figure out what you don't want anymore, anything that doesn't fit, and we can have one of the staff bring it down to the homeless shelter."
While Oliver knew it was going to take a lot longer than he'd planned - especially considering he'd originally planned to throw his clothes into as many boxes as it took and put the majority of them in storage until a later date - he couldn't deny how excited she looked at taking on the mini-project with him. So, he nodded, pasting on a smile, and accepted that the rest of his day was going to be spent going through clothing with his mother. It could be worse.
"Ohhh, Oliver, look, I found a box with your baby clothes in it," his mother called from the depths of his closet. "You were so tiny…"
Scratch that. It just got worse.
"Wow," Laurel said, staring at him with wide eyes. "I-I mean, I think it's great that you're sticking to your plan and you're moving out. I'm just… surprised."
Oliver frowned. "Why? You've been telling me I should move out for months now. Maybe even years."
"Yes, but you never listened to me." She gave a slightly incredulous laugh. "I suggested it to you a few times. I-I told you that we could get a place together, but you always had an excuse. It's just… I don't know, it feels like everything is happening so quickly now, and I kind of feel like I'm not a part of it."
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you had your interview with your father three days ago and this is the first I've heard anything about it. You're finally moving out, but it's with Tommy." She put her hands up then. "And you know what, that's fine. I know we've been fighting lately, especially since I wasn't as supportive as I could be, so I understand that you need your space and we're still figuring things out between us, but… Three years, Ollie. Three years I've been saying you need to be independent and move out and that we could do this together, and now that you are, it's like it has nothing to do with me. I'm not a part of it. You come to me after you've made your decisions, like you're updating me on what's happening instead of letting me be a part of everything."
He stared at a long a moment, letting what she said sink in. She wasn't wrong. He told her what was happening after the fact because he didn't remember that she would want to know or that he should talk to her about it until he'd already done it. As much as Laurel was in his life, he felt like she was on the fringes of it. It was his fault for not inviting her closer, for not confiding in her or asking for her opinion, but that didn't mean he wanted to now. He understood how she felt, he understood that she felt like he was growing up, and maybe even out of her. And the truth was, she was right.
He opened his mouth to say that. To tell her that she deserved better than him and what he offered her, because it wasn't enough and it wasn't right. It wasn't purely that Oliver was an awful person, undeserving of the perfect Laurel. It was that they were two different people who wanted different things in their lives. Maybe, at some point, he thought he wanted what she did. He thought it could work between them. He thought he could be that little boy his mom talked about, who grew into his father and married Laurel because that made sense, and they would have grown old together, becoming distant and bitter like his own parents had.
He should have said that.
He should have told her that he didn't love her anymore.
But he moved out of his parents' house today. He'd officially cut the cord and was starting out with nothing to keep him from falling and fucking up. He still had a business he needed to shop around to anybody who would listen. His life was already upside down and as much as he knew he was making it worse by being with Laurel, she just wasn't something he wanted to deal with right now.
"Tell me what's going on in your life," he suggested, leaning back into the couch. "I feel like I don't know what's going on with school or your family or anything."
And Laurel smiled, because she always did when he took an interest in her, and she snuggled up to his side, accepting what she saw as an olive branch rather than a brush off.
He listened to her catalogue her day until her voice became a faint buzz in his ears and then his mind wandered elsewhere. Like to his mother and the boxes of clothing they'd gone through that would be donated to the homeless shelter downtown. He wondered if she'd had one of the staff bring it down yet. Maybe he'd offer to do it for her tomorrow. It'd give him a chance to see her, maybe they'd get lunch, and then he could take a drive through the Glades. He hadn't been there since he was a boy and his grandfather had been alive. It might be nice. He smiled, taking a sip of his beer. Maybe he'd take Jasper for a walk through the neighborhood.
With his bank accounts froze, Oliver had very little to his name. For the time being, however, he had his car. Before going to Laurel's, his car had been stocked full of his stuff. He'd had to make two trips, one to a storage place that Tommy paid for and the second to Tommy's apartment to put everything away in the spare bedroom he was now occupying. It wasn't nearly as large as his own room had been back home, but it was comfortable and he had all of his essentials. He originally left everything to be unpacked until later, but after returning from Laurel's apartment, he decided there was no better time than the present. He didn't realize how tired he was until he'd gotten through nearly half the boxes, and then he was ready for a much-needed break. He left his new room to see what Tommy was up to and found him in the kitchen, looking through the fridge.
"Let's go over the business proposal again," Oliver suggested.
"Great." Tommy offered him a beer and sat down with him at the kitchen table. "So, I was thinking, maybe we could make a video, you know? Kind of a mock-advertisement for it. Maybe, uh, maybe Felicity could help out. You think she'd want to?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure she'd love to."
"Great." Tommy reached over and knocked the neck of his beer against Oliver's.
Oliver took a long drag from his beer and spread out the papers in front of him. "All right, how about you lead this time? Let's see if that works better…"
"Got it." Tommy stood, moving to stand as if he were facing a room full of investors and put on his show-smile.
Oliver sat back and critiqued, trying to look at it from the view of a businessman, trying to see what his father had seen, and find what made him say no.
All it did was exhaust him.
Two days after moving out, he called by the house to find out if his mother had sent the clothes off to the homeless shelter yet. She'd apparently forgotten all about it, so he asked her if she wanted to get brunch and he'd drop them off for her. Delighted, she took a town car in to meet him at a small coffee shop she swore made the best croissants she'd ever had outside of Paris. The driver put the boxes into the trunk of Oliver's car for him before finding somewhere to park while Oliver and Moira took their time catching up.
"Tell me more about this club," Moira suggested as she stirred cream into her tea. "Your father wasn't too specific and I want to know what has you so motivated."
He half-grinned at her. While he was sure he'd talked enough about the club in the last week to last a lifetime, it was different when it came to sharing it with her instead of trying to convince someone to invest in him. So he laid it all out for her, how the design was going to look, what stock costs were estimated to be, where he wanted to break ground on building the club, and how he imagined opening night to look.
"You must've spent a lot of time looking into all of this. You said you had detailed lists of what the other night clubs here in Starling were dealing with…?"
He nodded, tearing off a piece of cinnamon bun to pop into his mouth. "Yeah, Felicity actually put together information both on clubs here in Starling and the best clubs in the country." He grinned to himself, licking a smear of icing off his thumb. "She was pretty thorough. I mean, I know dad didn't go for it, but I'm pretty happy with how our presentation goes. Tommy and I spent hours going over everything, memorizing statistics and working out the best options we had in terms of who we wanted to buy from and how much we'll probably bring in each week. We might only break even for the first while, but I think, knowing what we do, we can bring in more people. Word of mouth will be our best friend. That and the curiosity for the idle rich."
He looked up when his mother hadn't answered him, only to find her looking at him with a tiny furrow between her brows.
He glanced away, frowning a little. "What?"
Shaking her head a little, Moira said, "That's the fourth time you've mentioned this Felicity and I can't find a face to put to the name. Is she someone you met in college, someone from high school…?"
"Oh, uh, no, she… She actually works at QC." He shrugged, shifting in his seat. "She's in the IT Department. She's in a cubicle right now, but I wouldn't be surprised if she was running the whole floor in a few years." He smiled then, a soft, warm feeling in his chest. "You should hear her talk about computers; she can talk your ear off for hours. And she brags, a lot." He rolled his eyes affectionately. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone geek out so much and still sound so arrogant. But she has reason to be, I guess. She graduated summa cum laude from MIT, and a year early from high school, too."
"She sounds… accomplished."
"Mm-hmm." He nodded. "She is. I don't think I've ever met anyone as smart as her. She, uh… She's helped me through a lot of what's been going on. With dad and all of this business stuff. She's really…" He shook his head. "I don't know where I'd be without her."
His mother watched him, her head tipped as she took him in. "You look happy."
He grinned up at her. "I am."
"I don't just mean about everything with this club. Although, I can't remember you ever being this enthusiastic about anything before, which I'm glad to see. But what I meant was that you look very happy when you talk about this Felicity…" Her lips pursed slightly. "It was my understanding that you were still seeing Laurel."
He frowned, dropping his gaze to his coffee. Clearing his throat, he told her, "I am. Laurel and I still together."
His mother hummed as she took a sip from her tea, watching him over the rim of the cup. She placed it daintily back down on the plate and smoothed out a napkin in her lap. "My only piece of advice, Oliver…" She stared at him knowingly. "Always be honest with those you love. As soon as you start lying, it's hard to stop."
He listened, giving a short nod a moment later.
She smiled then. "Now, why don't we head down to the shelter? I'm eager to drop everything off." She shook her head. "I told Meredith that we had three boxes of clothing and she admitted she's only gathered one. I don't want to say I gloated, but…" She smirked. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't."
Oliver chuckled, shaking his head.
When they finished their meal, he stood, holding his mother's jacket up for her to slip her arms into before bending to kiss her cheek. She patted his shoulder and joined him outside, climbing into the passenger seat of his car and directing him toward the shelter. She was oddly familiar with the Glades for someone who always had a driver take her everywhere. But then, his mother had always been more observant than most might give her credit for.
When Oliver finally got a chance to talk to Felicity about Tommy's commercial idea, it had to be curbed for a few days. Felicity was down for the count; a flu was going around and she was the unfortunate person to come down with it. While Tommy swore off going anywhere near her unless he had on a doctor's mask, and made the sign of the cross on his chest when Oliver so much as brought it up, Oliver decided to bite the bullet. He borrowed some cash off of Tommy and hit the pharmacy, filling a basket with anything that had cold/flu written on it. He bought orange juice, bottled water, tea, Vapo-rub, cough syrup, nasal spray, and cough drops. He also called Raisa and asked her for a favor before stopping by the manor to pick up the chicken noodle soup she used to make for him when he was a kid.
Then he showed up at Felicity's apartment, unannounced, and knocked at her door.
Hair in disarray and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she opened the door a crack to see him standing there. She had a bright red nose and bags under her eyes, but when she stuck her bottom lip out, looking sad and sick, he couldn't help but think she was ridiculously adorable. She swung the door open wide to invite him in and then shuffled back to her couch, curling up on it and pulling her blanket over her head. She was wearing mismatched fuzzy, wool socks; that was the only thing he could see that wasn't covered in her thick, blue blanket.
Oliver smiled to himself as he walked into her kitchen to warm up her soup and get her tea ready. While her soup simmered on the stove and a kettle warmed up water, he found her in the living room, groaning, and he dropped the bag down on the table for her to see.
Lifting the blanket from her face, she peeked out curiously, reaching an arm out toward the bag, her fingers snagging on the handle of the bag and tugging it closer. Her orange nail polish was chipped, a sign that she really must be feeling terrible since she took care of her brightly colored nails religiously. She smiled as she set eyes on cherry cough drops and cough syrup. "You remembered I liked cherry…"
"I got lemon tea, too," he told her, raising a brow down at her as she tipped her head to the side to look up at him.
"If I didn't think it would make you terribly sick, I might kiss you for this."
His mouth twitched. "It's the thought that counts."
She tried to chuckle but broke down on a coughing fit. Her body curled up into itself as she struggled to breath, her hand pressed to her mouth and her face turning red with the strength of her coughing.
Oliver cringed, digging out a bottle of water from the bag, he unscrewed the top and knelt beside her, rubbing her back and passing her the bottle.
She guzzled back a long swig and licked her lips, panting a little as she tried to catch her breath.
He smoothed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and frowned worriedly.
"S'okay," she murmured, leaning back on the couch. "Just a flu…" She waved a dismissive hand. "You're just lucky you missed the throwing-up stage… Not pretty."
He half-smiled, standing when he heard the whistle of the kettle. He left to prepare her tea, giving her soup a stir while he was there. When he returned, she was sitting up, sucking on a cough drop and still wrapped in her blanket, her feet pulled up and tucked under her. She let the blanket fall back a little as he handed over her cup of tea. She smiled, a bright red cough drop stuck between her teeth, and held the tea close, cupping her hands around it to let the warmth sink into her skin. She breathed in, smelling her tea appreciatively. He reached around her to pull the blanket up to her shoulders before he walked back to the kitchen to dish out her soup.
Felicity traded out her cough drop for her tea and happily sipped away at it, humming contently as she leaned back against her couch.
"Hungry?"
Her nose wrinkled. "Very. I just hope the throw-up stage isn't planning on an encore."
He placed the bowl down on the table. "Raisa made this. I might be biased, but it's the best chicken noodle soup ever made."
"Ever, huh?" She smiled at him and leaned over to look at the bowl. "Looks delicious."
"Tastes better." He dragged her armchair closer and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You want some help?"
"Are you planning on doing the airplane?" she wondered, arching an eyebrow at him.
"I can if you want me to. I'm an expert airplane feeder thanks to taking care of Thea when she was a baby."
"I think I can manage." She placed her tea back on the table and picked up her bowl of soup, sinking the spoon in deep and scooping out a hearty bite. "You want a bite before I get all my sick germs on it?" she wondered.
He nodded, leaning over, and before he could even reach for the spoon, she started making the airplane motion at him. "Mayday, mayday, we're having rotor issues," she said dramatically.
He laughed, rolling his eyes.
"Open wide, it's coming in for a crash landing…" She whistled, twisting her arm around. "Tell my children, I loved them."
Despite her overdramatic spiel, she tucked the spoon between his lips lightly and pulled it free, tipped upward to spill the soup onto his tongue. He caught a dribble of broth with a swipe of his tongue.
Felicity's cheeks were a little brighter with color, but he didn't think that was the flu. She smiled at him as she sunk the spoon back into her soup and brought a bite up to her own mouth. She gave a long, appreciative moan then. "Oh my God… That is good…"
He nodded. "I'll pass it on to Raisa."
She nodded, pointing the spoon at him before digging out another bite. "I think this is the best soup I've ever had. And I don't even really like soup. I mean, sometimes you get those cravings, right? I think soup's one of those things for me. I can go months without soup and then one day-" She snapped her fingers. "Soup and a sandwich, that's the only thing I want. And when I'm sick, of course. I mean, I usually just get Campbell's and suffer the MSG overload, but this… This is totally better."
"You must be feeling better if you're rambling," he mentioned, sitting back in the armchair.
She stuck her tongue out at him. "You're lucky I like you, and that you brought me all of this awesome anti-flu stuff."
"I am that," he agreed, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "You're feeling better though?"
She shrugged. "I think I'll probably take another day off from work to recoup, but I'm pretty sure I'll pull through."
"Glad to hear it."
"Mm-hmm." She stirred her soup. "You and Kelsey both. She was here all day yesterday, holding my hair while I got nice and familiar with the porcelain Gods. You just missed her actually; she stayed over to give me sick cuddles. I'm pretty sure that's just her excuse to cuddle when she's sober, but…" She shrugged. "I'm not complaining. It feels nice to be held when you feel like death warmed over."
"I missed out on cuddles again?" Oliver shook his head. "I think I'm getting the raw end of this friendship deal."
Felicity smiled. "Yeah, well, take it up with Kelsey. She's a cuddle-hog."
"Maybe Jennifer and I can petition for more equality," he decided.
She laughed softly, ducking her head down as she sipped some of the broth from her bowl, tipping it up to slurp from the edge. She caught a piece of carrot with her teeth and chewed it. "When I'm better, Kelsey wants to go out dancing. Since Jenn's been so busy lately, Kelsey's going around her and asking Marissa to match up our schedules for a girl's night."
He drummed his hands on the arms of the chair. "Yet another thing I can't he involved in…" He shook his head. "I think Tommy and I will have to have a boy's night. Maybe we'll casually and unexpectedly bump into you guys."
"I'd like that."
"Yeah?"
She nodded. "Yeah. You'll get a chance to meet my friends while fully-dressed, and Marissa, who you haven't met yet."
He laughed. "How terrible was my first impression exactly?"
"I wouldn't categorize it as terrible," she assured. "Kelsey counts her best memories as the ones with a half or fully naked man in them."
He shook his head, grinning. "I don't think that's the impression I was really hoping for."
"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "What were you hoping for?"
He shrugged. "Charming, funny, good guy, something like that."
"I already told them you were all those things, but if you feel like proving it to them, I'll let you know when we're having our girl's night and you can 'casually, unexpectedly' show up as suggested." She shook her head. "I'm warning you now, though, becoming friends with Kelsey means you'll probably be talked into a permanent VIP spot for her on the list when Sapphire opens."
"Done," he agreed. "And Jenn too, if she wants it."
Felicity smiled at him. "Who knew me being sick would make you so accommodating?"
"Maybe I just really want your friends to like me."
She stared at him a moment, looking thoughtful. He waited for her to ask the obvious question: Why would you want to do that? So he could give the obvious answer: Because if they like me, I have a better chance with you. But Felicity rarely did what he expected of her, so instead she said, "You're very likeable, and they're good people; it's a win/win."
Before he could reply, she broke down into a sneezing fit.
Oliver grabbed up the near-empty bowl of soup and put it on the table before he dug out the Kleenex box from the bag and presented it to her.
When she was done sneezing, he helped her lay back on the couch and tucked the blanket in around her. He offered her the half-eaten cough drop she'd put back on the wrapper to sip her tea and she peeled it off to stick back in her mouth. While she was tired, she admitted she'd been sleeping all day and didn't want to nap, so Oliver put on a movie and took a seat on the other end of the couch. She stretched her feet out until they touched his leg and then tucked her toes under his thigh to keep them warm. He smiled to himself, biting his lips in amusement as he felt her toes wiggle under him.
"Can I ask about the socks?" he wondered.
"Hm?" She looked away from the TV screen back to him. "Oh, I lost the matching sock for both of them, but it gets cold in here and they're my warmest, comfiest socks, so I just wear them together." She shrugged, her eyes moving back to the TV.
She was watching a Disney movie; he couldn't remember the name, he wasn't even really following it, but when she laughed at something, he smiled. Halfway through the movie, she was struggling to stay awake. Though she fought it, he watched her finally succumb, drifting off into an afternoon nap. He finished out the movie, amused when she sleepily stuck her feet into his lap, one of her socks slipping off her foot while the other was stretched high up her calf. He readjusted the low-slung sock and smiled down at her feet, tucking her blanket in around her ankles.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he relaxed into the couch and watched the movie play on through half-open eyes, until eventually he too fell asleep.
When he woke up, she was coughing, and Oliver sprung up, blinking rapidly. He rubbed her back as he reached for the bottle of water for her to sip at. When she was finally sure she was done coughing, she leaned back on the couch. Oliver unscrewed the cap off the cough syrup and filled it before holding it for her to take. She knocked it back quickly and wrinkled her nose, giving her head a shake and sticking out her tongue.
"It always tastes better in my memory," she told him, her voice a little hoarse.
He half-smiled at her. "You're okay?"
She sighed, hugging her blanket around a little tighter. "I hate being sick."
"I don't think anyone really enjoys it," he mused.
She harrumphed before sliding sideways to rest her head on the arm of her couch. "Tell me about the commercial you and Tommy wanted to put together," she told him.
"We can talk about it later," he offered, scooping up her tea cup, ready to make her another to help soothe her throat.
She shook her head. "You were excited on the phone. At least it sounded like you were; I didn't hear much after I nearly coughed up a lung mid-conversation."
His mouth twitched in amusement. "Tommy thinks shooting an ad for the club might make it seem more real. Something short and simple, just us bringing in business with what little celebrity we have."
She hummed. "That could work."
"Any edge we can bring to the presentation will help. I was hoping you might know how we could do it. You're the one with all the computer finesse. I wasn't sure if there was a way we could do it that wouldn't cost us too much money in production costs."
She nodded. "Yeah, I think I can help with that. Let me call a few people, see if I can call in a favor."
"You don't have to." He shook his head. "You're sick, and you've already done more than enough to help me out."
Smiling tiredly, she looked over at him. "There isn't a limit to helping someone. Besides, I want to. It's not like I'll ever need to make a commercial for anything myself, might as well put the favor to good use."
"If you're sure…"
"Oliver, you're my friend. You just risked your health to help me through the flu. I think I can talk to a friend about helping put together a commercial for your club." She shrugged. "Just say 'thank you, Felicity.'"
He smiled down at her, nodding. "Thank you, Felicity."
"Good." She let out a sigh then. "I wish there was a fast-forward button so I could get to the part where I wasn't sick."
He did too. But he thought if he had a fast-forward button, he might just skip through all the hard, complicated stuff until he was at the end. Just before the credits, when the 'happily ever after' part wrapped everything up. He'd be standing in front of his club, a grinning, accomplished Tommy on one side, and a proud Felicity on the other. And then Jasper, sitting pretty in front of him. And maybe his family, his father looking proud and his mother encouraging, and an enthusiastic Thea asking if she could dance too. He'd be happy with that.
Felicity sneezed again, shaking from the force of it, and he snapped back to reality.
There was no fast-forward button. Life moved at the pace it always had and always would. It'd be hard and he'd have to face more complications than he wanted to, but it would be worth it. He made his way to the kitchen to make her a cup of tea and when he returned, she was sitting up, curled in a ball in the corner of the couch. He held her tea out for her and backed the movie up to the part right before she fell asleep. She smiled over at him and sipped at her tea before moving over to rest her head on his shoulder as she watched the rest of her movie.
It wasn't perfect, it wasn't even technically the cuddle he wanted, but it was enough. Because one day, even if it took a really long time, they were going to get to where he wanted them. For the first time in his life, he thought maybe 'happily ever after' wasn't impossible.
[Continue.]