Chapter Text
Felicity's outfit: dinner
Thea's outfit: dinner
....
The sound of fingers tapping against a keyboard greets Oliver as he makes his way into his home office on the upper floor of the mansion, just down the hall from the family wing. Diggle sits at the desk, eyes reading over whatever information is on the computer screen.
“Hey, what’s going on? Is Felicity okay?”
Oliver had sped home as fast as he could after his meeting with Bertinelli. Digg called to inform him that something had come up with Felicity’s situation. His friend’s voice was incessant but not urgent or worried. Regardless, it had still put Oliver on edge.
“She’s fine. Still in bed watching some chick flick with Thea. Tommy was with them for awhile but he left about thirty minutes ago.”
Relief floods through Oliver, allowing his muscles to relax and his thoughts to stop racing.
“Okay, so what did you call about?”
“I found a possible lead. Years ago, before Karen took the job in Central, the company she was employed at was working on a partnership with another firm. Nick Solvate, one of Bertinelli’s associates, was a supervisor on the project. Guess who else was one of the lead supervisors?”
“I’m going to take Karen Smoak for 500.”
“You would be right. Thing is, she split from the company before the contract was fully drafted and legally processed. It ended up falling through and Bertinelli lost a lot of money because of it.”
It’s the first break they’ve had since the shooting at his party and it confirms Felicity’s initial musings. Even if she had just been pulling at straws when she mentioned her mother that night, Oliver had seen merit in the theory. He’s glad he stuck with it.
“And speaking of business partnerships, how’d the meeting go with Bertinelli?”
“I… it didn’t get very far.”
“What?”
“Bertinelli got pulled away on business. But he invited the entire Queen family over for dinner on Friday, including Felicity.”
“And you said no, right?”
Oliver reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck both in uneasiness and irritation.
“I couldn’t. I had to agree to it.”
“Oliver, you know there is no way in hell that it’s safe for Felicity in that place.”
He knows, he more than knows. The entire car ride back to the manor from Bertinelli’s was spent in a hectic state of mind. He tried to think of any possible excuse for Felicity not to go. There was no solid proof to give that Bertinelli was leading the mob so he couldn’t just accuse the man and then force her to stay here. Moira and Robert would also insist that they all go, as the invitation was extended to the entire family and if Thea went, she would make damn sure Felicity went to.
“Don’t you think I understand that, Digg? I care about her. She’s part of the family. I would never want to put her in harms way. But there’s no way around it. If we want inside information on Bertinelli, I have to gain his trust. He can’t know we suspect anything.”
The look on Diggle’s face is full of anger, anger and reluctant acceptance. Because there isn’t a way out of this and Felicity is going to be in even more danger than she already is.
“I know what I’m doing, Digg.”
“Do you?”
He does. He knows what he’s planning on doing and he knows how dangerous it all is. But whatever it takes to stop the person going after Felicity, he’ll do it.
“I’m going to check on Felicity. And Thea.”
Exiting the office and leaving an exasperated Diggle behind, Oliver heads in the direction of Felicity’s room down the hall. It’s late, late enough that the girls, or at least Felicity, might be asleep. That’s his hope at least. The plan was to give Felicity her distance, her time to recover. Things were strained, awkward between them before she was shot. He didn’t want to put any unnecessary stress on her while she was healing.
But something inside of him is begging for her to be awake. He needs to hear her talk at a rate faster than any normal person can, needs to see her genuine smile and the blush that warms her cheeks when she slips and says something inadvertently sexual. He needs to see her alive and well and herself.
He just needs her.
The strength of his thoughts gives Oliver pause, physically bringing him to a halt just a few steps away from Felicity’s door.
Since his return, Oliver has become accustomed to his heated thoughts about his sister’s brilliant best friend. However, he’s put that down to simple physical attraction. He is a man, a man who was very limited in sexual activity for five years, and Felicity is a beautiful woman. Well, technically girl, but she will be eighteen soon enough. Really, she hasn’t been simply a girl in his eyes since his return, not just because of her physical appearance but also because of the maturity and attitude towards life that she possesses. The term girl doesn’t contain enough substance to describe the person that Felicity is.
That brings Oliver to his newfound problem. Somewhere down the road the pull he feels towards Felicity has become more than physical. Where once it was easy for him to distinguish between physical attraction and personal admiration, Oliver now finds those things scrambling together and becoming one, the attraction no longer purely carnal. This is more dangerous than the physical. This is emotional, and he’s not prepared for what that entails.
Oliver almost continues on, past Felicity’s room and to his own, when he hears a cry of pain coming from behind the closed door. In no time at all he’s at her door, giving a quick knock of warning before pushing it open.
He instantly wishes he hadn’t.
Because Felicity is standing by her bed, back facing the door, in a pair of tiny boy shorts and her shirt halfway off, tangled around her shoulders and twisted arms.
“Oh good, you’re back. Can you come help me get this shirt over my bad shoulder? I desperately need to get some water and yummy smelling lavender and chamomile soap on my body. You know that healing, herbal stuff Laurel bought us for Christmikah that I’ve never used? Yeah that sounds really good right now.”
Jesus Christ.
Before he can stop it, an image of Felicity, naked and wet in the shower forms itself in his mind. Her smooth skin, slick and sudsy with soap, bubbles sliding down her body from the top of her collarbone to the valley of her breasts, over her navel where some of them catch and cling to her skin before continuing their path down to the space between her legs where they disappear. He imagines her toned body stretching as she reaches up and runs her fingers through her hair, rinsing out her shampoo. He can almost see her hands running across her own skin, touching and gliding over every surface. The thought instantly brings heat to his body, a fire flowing through his veins and heading south.
“Thea, hello, a little help – Oliver! Oh my God! Shit! You’re definitely not Thea!”
He’s brought out of his completely inappropriate musings by Felicity’s surprised shouts. For a second he just stares at her, jaw slightly unhinged, as she scrambles to cover herself without hurting her shoulder. Then he realizes that he’s basically been caught gawking at Felicity’s half-naked body and spins around to face away from her, giving her the privacy she needs to cover up.
“I, uh, I’m sorry. I heard you shout and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The rustling of sheets mixes with mumbled cursing as Felicity gets situated behind him.
“Yeah. I’m fine. I was just trying to take a shower. Who knew getting naked could be so hard?” He could make it easy for her. “Gah, my brain thinks of the worst way to say things. I really need to get a filter for that.”
There’s an awkward beat where neither one of them exactly knows what to say. Eventually, Oliver figures it’s his responsibility to break the silence, seeing as he was the one who barged in and put them in this position in the first place.
“I should have waited for you to answer before coming in. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not much different from seeing me in a bikini, right? And since I’m like a sister to you, it’s really no biggie. Don’t worry about it. No harm no foul. Thea’s seen me in less. So has Tommy actually. But that was an accident and he spent the following week avoiding eye contact and blushing whenever we were in the same room. Not that I was much better off. Wow, now that I think about it that was really embarrassing.”
“Tommy has seen you in less than your bra and shorts?”
Apparently Felicity isn’t the only one who needs a filter.
“Uhm… maybe?”
Oliver’s teeth grind together and his fists clench as a whole different kind of heat from the one he experienced earlier fills him.
“You can turn around now, by the way. I’m decent.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, Oliver, I am sure that currently every inch of my body except for my face is covered by this ridiculously soft and expensive duvet cover.”
For a second he contemplates not turning around. He could just brush it off as hearing her cry of pain and making sure she was okay. He could offer to find Thea to help her. He could give her some excuse about having a lot of work to get done and make his exit. There are a lot of things he could do to escape this awkward exchange.
But he doesn’t.
Because he came to Felicity’s room for a reason, to see her and make sure she was okay. Now that he’s here, Thea’s earlier questioning returns to him and floods him with guilt. He should have checked on her sooner. Yes, things between them were strained, but Felicity was one of the most important people in his life. He owed it to her to be there for her in whatever capacity she needed because she had been there for him so many times before. He wanted her to know that she could count on him.
So Oliver turns around and takes a few hesitant steps towards the bed where Felicity currently lies, buried under her pale yellow floral comforter.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better than yesterday. My shoulder is ridiculously sore and my head hurts like you wouldn’t believe. But hey I’m still breathing so I can’t complain.” Oliver cringes at that because if he hadn’t been so alert, his sense so sharply honed from years of military training, Felicity could very well be six feet under right now. “Sorry. That wasn’t a very tasteful joke.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Oliver walks closer to her, coming within a foot of her bedside before he speaks again. “How are you?”
This time it’s clear that he doesn’t mean physically.
“I’m fine.”
No she’s not. He can see it in her eyes that she’s not. It’s in the set of her shoulders and the quiver of her mouth as she says the words in a quick, short response.
“Felicity…”
“I’m fine, Oliver. I’ve been taking those amazing painkillers that put me on cloud nine and lying in bed all day. It’s a teenage dream and I’m living it. Actually, I think it’s time for my next dose. Be awesome and hand me the bottle?”
She’s deflecting and Oliver isn’t going to let her get away with it.
He takes the final few steps, four to be exact, and carefully seats himself on the edge of her bed; the very edge. Still, the proximity seems to surprise Felicity because she uses her good arm to scoot herself further back against the headboard. It doesn’t make much of a difference physically but it feels like she just put miles of space between them.
“Felicity, you were just shot at, again, and we – the police still haven’t caught whoever did it.”
“What do you want me to say, Oliver? Do you want me to tell you that I’m scared? That I’m terrified? That the thought of someone out there, trying to hurt me, makes me want to run and hide?”
She doesn’t yell, doesn’t even raise her voice. The words are spoken with a calm clarity in an octave just above a whisper.
“If that’s how you feel.”
“Well, it’s not. I can’t live my life like that, checking every dark alley and looking around every corner to see if someone is there, trying to get me. That’s no way to live. That’s not even living. It’s existing and I don’t want to do that. I won’t do that.”
“So you’re not scared? Not even a little bit?”
“Of course I am. But I’m not going to let that consume me and dictate how I live my life. I have Digg and I have you and I know you won’t let anything happen to me.”
Her eyes mirror the sincerity in her words as they bore into his. It strikes him hard, that after all this fickle push and pull they have gone through since his return, Felicity still trusts him so innately. He doesn’t know what good deed he did in his life to deserve this. Honestly, he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t.
Oliver unknowingly leans in towards her, like two opposite charges of a magnet, drawn together by an unseeable force. His hand reaches forward to grab onto hers, lying on top of the duvet.
“I’ll protect you, Felicity. Always. I promise.”
The look she gives him brings warmth to his chest. Her eyes shine, lips pressed together, curled slightly inwards, as she nods in understanding. Then a small, heartwarming smile spreads across her face. It’s like he’s shocked her with the depth of his declaration, like she can’t really believe that someone would care so much about her safety.
Oliver’s thumb rubs absentmindedly over the tops of her knuckles, brushing the ring on her index finger that he’s vaguely aware of seeing there before. Their eyes never part.
He can feel himself being pulled in closer. Her bright blue eyes a swirling storm and a calming clarity all at once. It’s dangerous and thrilling and it gets his heart racing. She is the eye of the storm, promising a safe haven amidst chaos.
“Ahem, am I interrupting something?”
Oliver springs from the bed so fast it’s like ice water has been thrown on him. Felicity shifts around, lifting a nervous hand to smooth down the hair of her ponytail.
“Thea! Hi, you’re back. Thank goodness.”
They weren’t doing anything wrong. Oliver was just comforting her. That’s completely acceptable, to use physical contact as reassurance and comfort. Family members do it all the time.
So why does he feel like a kid who was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar?
“Uh huh, I said I would be.”
Thea’s gaze bounces between Oliver and Felicity, cool and calculating.
“I was walking by on the way to my room when I heard Felicity yell. I came to check on her.”
“Well that was nice of you, considering you haven’t come by since she got home over twenty-four hours ago.”
Apparently, she’s still mad at him for that.
“Thea, it’s fine. Oliver is busy with his new job. The world doesn’t stop just because I got hurt.”
“Maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t mean he can’t stop by to check on you at least once. He literally lives down the hall.”
She’s right, Oliver could have easily checked in on them. But he was scared, so he didn’t. For a U.S. soldier, meant to be the bravest of men, he really can be quite a coward.
“It’s okay, Thea, really. Now I desperately need to take a shower so can someone please help me out of these clothes? And by someone I mean Thea. Because, yeah, obvious reasons…”
That’s his cue and Oliver takes it wholeheartedly, already shuffling towards the door as he makes his escape.
“Right. I have some business matters to look over from tonight’s meeting anyway. I’ll see you later.”
He can feel two sets of eyes on his back as he reaches for the handle to open the door. They’re both heated. One of them with anger and the other with something he can’t identify but is still familiar to him. At the last second he turns around, eyes locking with Felicity’s.
“I’m really glad you’re okay, Felicity.”
Their gazes hold for a long moment. He can see the widening of her eyes and the slight confusion in them from where he stands across her bedroom.
Then he turns to leave.
Thea’s narrowing eyes and her scrutinizing stare are not lost on him as he goes.
….
“Which way?”
“Down the hall, second right, first left, then fourth room down on the right.”
They’re halfway down the second hall when Oliver hears her scream as she falls to the ground with a thud, clutching her abdomen and stirring up dirt that dries out his throat and causes his eyes to water. He pauses to help her up but stops short, entire body freezing and joints locking.
Because he isn’t looking into the dark brown depths of the eyes of his fellow soldier and a girl he once loved.
He’s looking into bright blue eyes, swirling with confusion and pain and innocence.
He’s looking at Felicity.
“Oliver? What’s going on?”
Suddenly there’s silence. Then the sound of a gun cocking and the firing of a single shot. He watches the bullet slam into her lower back knocking her face first into the ground.
“Oliver!”
She screams out his name in agony as blood stains her already soiled clothes a dark red, almost black and seeps onto her hands where they clutch frantically at her flesh.
“No. Felicity. You’re not supposed to be here. This isn’t… you’re not supposed to be here.”
He watches in bewilderment as her blood pools on the floor beside her and her body spasms in pain.
“Oliver, it hurts! Make it stop! Please! Make it stop!”
He springs into action, dropping to her side and tearing off his uniform jacket, using it to apply pressure to the wound.
“I don’t understand. You’re not supposed to be here.”
Felicity sobs in pain, the blood flow seemingly getting worse.
“You promised! You promised me you would protect me!”
“I didn’t… No. This isn’t supposed to be you!”
Her rocking and spasms have stopped as the loss of blood weakens her. Now she lays in the sand and dirt, body convulsing involuntarily and eyes staring up at him in pain and anger.
“You lied. You’re a liar. This is your fault.”
“No. No, Felicity, please! Just stay with me, okay? I can fix this. I can save you!”
The life is quickly fading from her eyes and Oliver frantically searches for any sign of Slade for help.
“You promised you would protect me, always. But you didn’t.”
“No! NO!”
“You didn’t protect me, you can’t.”
“Felicity!”
….
He wakes in a state of panic and disorientation. It’s dark and his eyes have a hard time adjusting as they dart around the room. His hands reach out, feeling for something he can’t quite remember.
Then his dream comes tumbling back to him.
Felicity was in his dream, in his nightmare. She was there and bleeding and dying. All because he couldn’t protect her, he couldn’t save her. He couldn’t save her just like he couldn’t save Sha – her.
It rattles Oliver to his core. Rationally, he knows it was only a nightmare, a subconscious fear given form. Felicity is fine. She wasn’t in Afghanistan and she didn’t die from the bullet that hit her shoulder. She’s alive and breathing. If he walked down the hall right now, he would find her asleep in her bedroom, most likely with Thea by her side.
But it still causes his hands to shake and his heart to pound heavily in his chest.
Nightmares are something Oliver knows intimately. He’s had them for years. Even before the war, he had nightmares about disappointment and loneliness. During it, they were filled with blood and violence.
But now, now they are a mix of everything he fears. They create feelings of loss and pain and terror and loneliness and disappointment and agony. It’s a tumultuous combination that leaves him feeling frenzied and hollow.
The clock on his bedside table reads five in the morning, too early to be awake but late enough that he can occupy his time until going into his office at Queen Consolidated. Adrenaline flows through his veins as he makes his way out of bed and towards his dresser. It puts him on edge, causes him to fidget and brings his senses on high alert.
Oliver grabs a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt and heads to the bathroom to change before making his way down the hall, his destination being the in-home gym.
He pauses in front of Felicity’s door when he reaches it, fears not yet calmed. Images from his nightmare flash through his mind. Her bloodied hands and screams of agony. The life draining from her eyes as her voice weakened. His broken promise. His failure.
The next second he pushes the door open and steps into the room.
The soft light from the hall shines in, illuminating a path from the crack in the door to the bed. It reveals to Oliver exactly what he expected to see. Felicity is asleep in a position that he suspects is not overtly comfortable, but given her injury it’s most likely better than any other alternative. Thea lies next to her, mouth open and small snores escaping from it. She’s also hogging a majority of the covers.
The sight brings a small smile to his face and calms his racing heart, not completely erasing his fears but at least easing them slightly as he slowly backs out of the room and shuts the door quietly.
It’s almost an hour before anyone finds Oliver. And when someone does, it’s Digg.
They don’t talk. Digg doesn’t ask him what’s wrong because he doesn’t need to. They are both plagued by nightmares and demons that follow them around and haunt their every waking and sleeping hour. Some of them are the same, some of them different, all of them terrifying.
So instead of talking they work their frustration out physically, each of them grabbing a pair of boxing gloves and stepping onto the training mats. This is one thing Oliver can do that doesn’t send his head spinning. He doesn’t have to think, just move and breathe. It’s exactly what Oliver needs and he loses himself in the familiar training rhythm they’ve developed over the years.
….
“So, Oliver, how are things at Queen Consolidated? Are you learning all the tricks of the trade?”
Silverware clinks against plates as the bevy of businessmen and women enjoy the gourmet meal that their generous host has provided for them. Frank Bertinelli is all jovial smiles and polite conversation where he sits at the head of the table.
It’s only been Oliver’s second full week at Queen Consolidated and getting acclimated to the company and the business world is proving to be a difficult feat. People throw around terms and jargon they expect him to understand, forgetting that he dropped out of all four colleges he attended. It’s always busy, people speaking quickly and precisely and constantly moving. It’s a warzone of its own kind.
Luckily, the intern who acts more as an assistant, Bart or Bobby or something, is more than eager to help Oliver play catch up. He should really learn the kid’s name considering he’s the only thing keeping Oliver from drowning in blueprints and short-term transition plans and numbers reports.
“It’s been… interesting. I was never really involved in the company before I was deployed so I never knew just how much the employees there did. It has definitely given me a new perspective. I have a lot of great people helping me transition into it all.”
Of course, that’s not the only thing he’s juggling at the moment.
There’s also Felicity. Intelligent, beautiful, young Felicity whom he can’t seem to stay away from. No matter how strained things are between them, he gravitates towards her. There's an overwhelming need to be near her, one he's never felt with another person before.
Oliver isn't an idiot. He knows what it means. It means he has feelings for her other than physical attraction. He has feelings for a girl twelve years his minor. And as if that weren't problematic enough, his family has practically adopted her these past two years. But apparently Oliver’s body and subconscious don’t seem to care about that because he is quickly becoming enamored with all things Felicity Smoak.
The way she looks in the hot pink dress she is currently wearing, for example.
It’s a relief to see her up and on her feet again. Where Oliver spent the past week in a hectic frenzy of business reports and engineering designs, Felicity had spent it in bed watching some show on Netflix that was apparently all the rage, something about a hooded vigilante who was stranded on an island and learned Russian even though he was in China. That’s all Oliver really gathered from what she told him, too preoccupied with the way her lips caressed the words as they left her mouth in enthusiasm.
He had checked in on her briefly in person, during which time she protested her forced bedridden state, and kept a near constant communication with Digg about how she was doing. It had gotten to the point where his friend had told him to just go talk to her and see for himself on more than one occasion.
And now they’re eating dinner with the man who may or may not be targeting her.
“I’m glad to hear it. I know things must be overwhelming for you with everything going on. That reminds me. Ms. Smoak, how are you doing darling?”
The grip Oliver has on the knife in his hand tightens when Bertinelli addresses Felicity. His eyes slide to the right, where she sits beside him. Oliver made sure to stay close to her all evening, going as far as to insist that she sit next to him at the dinner table. That had garnered a few looks from Felicity and Thea but no one else had seemed to notice his insistence.
“I’m doing much better, thank you for asking.”
She has no idea, no idea that the man who just inquired about her wellbeing could possibly be the reason such a question is even necessary.
“I’m glad to hear it. I saw what happened on the news the other day. Oliver said you were recovering when we met earlier this week. It’s good to see how well you are doing in person.”
Oliver’s eyes dart about the room, surveying his surroundings and studying Bertinelli’s security measures, now on high alert. As if he wasn’t already.
“That’s really kind of you. I’m fine, still a little shaken and my shoulder is a bit sore, but the doctors said I should be back to normal within a few weeks tops. It was just a graze and a concussion. Nothing major.”
“That’s relieving to hear. The violence in this city sometimes is just appalling. Do the police have any leads?”
Oliver wills Felicity with all his might to say no. Just say no. Bertinelli is fishing for details and the less he knows, the better.
“No. They weren’t able to identify either shooter. They don’t even know if it was the same guy or not.”
“Oh, well, I am sorry to hear that.” He doesn’t look the least bit sorry to Oliver. “Hopefully the good task force of this city will find a lead soon.”
Moira speaks up then, pleasant smile on her face. But Oliver can see the flash in her eyes that she used to get whenever he or Thea was in trouble. It’s fierce, protective.
“Yes, well, in the mean time let’s not dwell on it. Leave that to the police, shall we?”
“I agree with my wife. Frank, how’s business doing? ”
And just like that the topic is changed.
It’s a bit incredible to watch. For a second, his parents were the old tag team he remembers from when he was younger. They used to work a room seamlessly together, knowing exactly how to play off each other and the surrounding company. It’s what made them so successful in the business world. To see that again, this time in defense of Felicity, is a testament to just how much they have both come to care about her, to see her as their own.
The rest of dinner continues on without a hitch and they’re all ushered into a sitting room for after-dinner drinks. Oliver is speaking with Bertinelli’s daughter and her fiance when Bertinelli leaves the room. Oliver watches the man excuse himself from the conversation he was having with Moira and Robert, most likely about the Defense Tech project. A few minutes later he catches sight of Felicity as she and Thea leave the room together as well.
Now more than ever Oliver wishes Digg had accompanied them tonight. When he had insisted upon it earlier, Moira had refused. She had spoken with Bertinelli about the security measures without Oliver’s knowledge and the man was all too happy to provide his own service for the evening. Since Oliver couldn’t very well come out and admit to “borrowing” law enforcement-only information on Bertinelli, he couldn’t give his mother a good enough reason as to why it was necessary.
Oliver gives it two minutes before excusing himself and making his way out of the room.
His pace picks up double time the second he’s out of sight of the other guests in the sitting room. The only place he can think of that the two girls would be going to is the restroom. Unless Thea talked Felicity into exploring the place, in which case finding them is going to be near impossible.
When he gets to the restroom neither one of them is in there.
Oliver hurries down the halls as panic begins to set in. He tries not to make a sound, not wanting to call the attention of Bertinelli’s security detail. But as he peeks through open doors and hastens down hallways, careful to remember the path he takes, Oliver starts to become desperate. There’s not sign of either girl and the house is so large that he’s only just finished with the left wing of the bottom level of the house. They could be anywhere.
The corridors and dark corners start to shift and blur as he moves through them. They flash from clean, antique filled places of living for the idle rich to hot, unrefined dirt walls meant to imprison people. Oliver shakes his head in an attempt to expel the visions but they stay with him. One minute he’s pacing the halls of Bertinelli’s mansion, the next he’s running through the sand and dirt filled corridors of an Afghani holding facility.
Images from his nightmare earlier this week flood his memory and his vision.
Felicity lying on the hard dirt ground in confusion.
The bullet launching into her lower back, tearing through her abdomen.
Blood pooling around her and staining her hands as she sobs and screams at him.
The life draining from her accusing and betrayed eyes.
This is your fault
You didn’t protect me, you can’t.
NO. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.
Oliver’s breaths come in short, quick pants as the nightmare begins to assault his senses. He pauses in his search to take in air. This can’t happen. Not now. Felicity is in danger and she needs him. She’s not hurt yet. He has to push through this.
10… 9… 8…
Counting down, although it seems childish, is something Oliver learned to help him refocus after his first traumatizing mission.
7… 6… 5…
Five more seconds. That’s the time he gives himself to expel this panic.
4… 3… 2…
Deep breath in, let it out slowly. Focus on the goal.
1.
Find Felicity.
It takes him an additional five minutes, hands still trembling slightly but breathing now under control, until he finally spots them.
Felicity and Thea stand outside of a door pushed slightly ajar, looking very much like they are spying on someone. Relief floods through him and begins to truly settle his mind when he sees that they are unharmed.
Felicity spots Oliver first and quickly rights herself while pulling Thea with her. They try to look innocent as he makes his way over to them, but it’s a bit late for that. Only as he gets closer he sees something else in their expressions, Felicity’s especially. They almost look… shocked, scared.
“What are you two doing?”
“We were just looking for the little girls room. This place is so big we got lost on the way.”
Thea composes herself first, easily putting on an air of relaxed self-assurance. But Felicity still looks shaken and confused.
“Really? Because you would have passed it on the way here.”
“Like I said, it’s a big house. We got lost.”
Thea’s stare is challenging, full of steely will. The only chink in her armor is the hand reaching behind her that holds onto Felicity’s.
“Why don’t I help you guys find your way back?”
“An escort by the Oliver Queen, what an honor. Lead the way, brother dearest.”
He chooses to let this slide, for now. Whatever happened it’s obviously causing Felicity distress. The last thing he wants to do is force her into something she’s not ready for.
That applies to a lot more than just this situation.
The important thing is that Felicity’s okay, for the most part. She’s not being held hostage or tortured or worse. She’s alive and breathing and standing in front of him no worse for the wear. She’s okay.
Oliver lets the truth settle in his bones and calm him down as they walk back to the sitting room.
The remainder of the evening is smooth sailing, well as much as it can be. Bertinelli returns not long after them. He quickly engages Oliver, Robert, and Moira in a conversation about partnering with Queen Consolidated. The man knows how to talk shop, Oliver will give him that, and seems to win his parents over, even though they don’t give him a definite answer. Ultimately the decision is Oliver’s and he’s still not sure which is the best move in this game they’re playing. So he puts it off, once again, this time asking Bertinelli to send a draft of his business proposal to the Applied Sciences Division.
While all of this is important, he continues to keep an eye on Felicity. Her and Thea sit to the side, huddled together and whispering to each other on occasion. It’s the way they’re sitting though that really grabs his attention. They’re sharing one of the small couches and even though there’s room enough for both of them, Thea is perched on the edge while Felicity sinks into the back cushions. It’s a protective stance, like Thea can somehow shield whatever happened from getting to Felicity anymore than it already has.
First Moira, then Robert, and now Thea. Felicity may not have much of a relationship with her biological relatives but she has a family that is willing to do just about anything for her in the Queens.
And Oliver. He’s doesn’t know where he falls in the equation, as family or something else entirely, but she has him. She has him, totally and completely wrapped around her fingers and honestly, he’s not sure he wants to be unwound.
If that makes him wrong, then he’s learning that you can’t always be right.