Chocolate Coated Confessions
When Oliver Queen, CEO of Queen Consolidated walked through the door on Monday night he had been hopeful that the evening would be a walk in the park. Instead he was greeted by the uneven, pitiful wailing that could only be coming from his little blonde bundle of joy. Tia. Unless Felicity had dropped the bottle of wine she put out for when he got in again because he’d never seen someone that sober that inconsolable because of alcohol. Not that Felicity was actually his bundle of joy. Even though she was in fact a bundle of joy. Realising he was over-thinking this, he shook his head, I’ve been spending too much time with Felicity. Even though he was home early because he really liked spending time with Felicity and had made sure to cut Mr. Walker off the minute he’d made his proposal, assuring him that Ms. Watson would set up an appointment the moment he’d signed the papers, so that he could get home half an hour early to spend more time with both Tia and Felicity. But no, the sight that greeted him in the kitchen was not of Felicity, red eyed over the shards in the dustpan but of his little six year old terror, Florentia. Oliver had thought that he had enough on his plate returning from a place whose name literally translated as “Purgatory” with a green trunk and his body weight in baggage only to find that after losing his father, he had become one himself. Florentia’s mother had died and she’d been living with her paternal relatives ever since. That was when he’d met Felicity Meghan Smoak, sitting at the kitchens counter in the manor, a red pen stuck in her mouth whilst she was joining something clever with Thea’s laptop. Felicity’s computer skills developed as a hobby as he understands it, though he's told her more than once she could make a more than decent living out of it. He's pretty sure he once heard her telling Raisa, the Queen family's fantastic and faithful Russian housekeeper that she went to MIT. So why she decided to become an au pair Oliver will never understand. Regardless of the reason, her computing genius has been an godsend since Oliver became the Arrow. Or the Hood. He doesn’t know which name he deserves but he sure as hell knows which one he’d choose if he could. If he could be the hero his daughter deserved for a father. God bless Raisa for finding Felicity. The woman was Mary Poppins made flesh. Not that she, or anyone else apart from Diggle was aware of his evening activities, but he had been grateful for the social hierarchy which dictated the children of the wealthy have nannies for once because it meant that Florentia had someone to look after her in the evenings when he was off being the Vigilante. He had briefly considered revoking his promise to his father when he'd met his own child but had decided against it. Every parent wants a brighter future for their child and his best bet for that was Florentia's city was as safe and clean as possible. In order to obtain Felicity's expertise, however Oliver had had to lie, some of which was getting more outlandish everytime. From a bullet ridden experience at the coffeeshop to running out of sports bottles, Oliver needed to up his excuses. Even Tommy was giving the side eye more often than not these days.
Florentia, or Tia as she was known, was sitting in her signature purple – Qweens wear purwple Daddy! Auntie Twea told me – pyjama clad back to him on one of the breakfast bar stools, leaning into Felicity, who was cuddling her fiercely as she shushed her soothingly.
Oliver coughed, alerting child and au pair to his presence. Catching Felicity’s eye, he mouthed “What happened?” Taking in her strained expression and the fact that she looked like she’d been crying, his brow creased concernedly. Nobody and nothing made his girls cry. Before she could reply, Florentia launched herself off her perch, dropping to the floor – damn, his kid could bounce – before barrelling across the penthouse to wrap herself around the pant leg of Oliver’s grey suit. Sharing a glance with Felicity who merely shrugged helplessly – and okay, Oliver was officially worried now, because Felicity always knew what to do with Florentia. He’d come to rely on her so intensely these days, even more so than those first few difficult months after his return when Tia had to get used to the idea that her Daddy was alive.
Right. Oliver was getting to the bottom of this right now. Reaching down to detach his distraught daughter and pull her into his arms, he bounced her comfortingly as he strolled toward the kitchen’s central island where he deposited Tia and bent to her eye level, the technique he’d picked up from those parenting books he’d grabbed from Barnes & Noble last year second nature to him now .
“What happened, sweetheart?” he murmured to Florentia, though truth be told his eyes were on Felicity. “Fleecy...[Felicity] broke...my...heart” she informed him in between sobs. Oliver’s eyebrows shot up. What the hell? Felicity would never hurt Tia, they adored each other.
“She didn’t mean to” Oliver replied automatically, stroking Tia’s soft blonde curls not needing to look at Felicity to confirm the strength of his conviction, his faith in her absolute.
“Then w-why did s-she do it?”
Beats me kid Oliver thought. He couldn’t even imagine what Felicity could have said or done to upset Tia so much. Instead he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said “Why don’t we have some hot chocolate and work it out, okay bud?”
Tia eyes him cautiously with her big blue eyes “With cweam and cinnamom?” He really should be correcting her pronunciation but God dammit if his little one isn’t one of the most adorable creatures on this planet. So he winks at her conspiratorially instead. Tia grins, clapping her hands and wipes the tears off her face, before stretching her feet and pointing obviously at the ground to be set down. He obliges, running his hand through her hair as he returns her smile. Oliver looks over, hoping, no wondering, down boy, if he can convince Felicity to join them in delaying bed time only to see the other exceptionally adorable creature in his life is broadcasting a very clear SOS with her eyebrows.
Too late now. He mouths ‘sorry’ even though he has no idea what he’s apologising for. He them immediately bends down and suggests to Florentia distractedly “Why don’t you got fetch Little T, honey?” Thankfully, Florentia takes the bait and bounces off to her bedroom to collect her Tiana plushie doll. Having not watched a Disney film in years, Oliver had come home several months ago to find his two favourite females cuddled up on the sofa, deeply engrossed in The Princess & the Frog. Apparently Florentia had asked Felicity who her favourite Disney Princess was, which had lead to a discussion of Megara or Tiana followed by an impromptu suspension of the lesson for a viewing of Tiana’s magical adventure through New Orleans. When Oliver arrived home, Tia had demanded they watch it a second time through so Oliver could appreciate it too.
And he had to say, even though he still had a soft spot in his heart for Robin Hood, for obvious reasons, he was something of a fox himself after all, he had thoroughly enjoyed himself, getting to spend quality time with his daughter. And Felicity. And Diggle had absolutely not caught him humming ‘Gonna take you there’ as he cleaned up the Foundry. More than once. Tia loved the film because Tiana was cool and brave and had the same nickname she did, Oliver approved of it because it taught the value of hard work and remembering what was important in life. Felicity had laughed and said he loved it really because it encouraged love, the colour green and following your dreams and he had not corrected her.
Oliver straightens and crosses the kitchen to where Felicity is standing, looking very much like she would rather be drinking a nice wine rather than hot chocolate. She tries to bolt forgetting that she lives with a man she nicknamed Forrest Gump. She even got him one of those Bubba Gump Shrimp t-shirts with “RUN FORREST RUN” and “STOP FORREST STOP” on when she found out he didn’t have anything along the lines of what Felicity called “fun t-shirts”.
“Y’know, fun, Oliver, like pictures of angels with police phone boxes or a charmander in a pumpkin”
He didn't understand either of those remarks but he'd worn the t-shirt all the same. When Speedy had caught him in it she'd died laughing and called it poetic justice or something. For the second time that day Oliver is intensely glad that he recruited John Diggle into his crusade so that he can take care of his family life rather than Hooding up every once in a while. Although originally this had been in order to protect his identity, it had swiftly become more about his daughter than anything else. And even if he would never admit it under torture, Felicity had rapidly become a part of that. “Felicity?”
No response.
“Fel-i-ci-ty” he sounded out her name, mouth wrapping round the syllables as it always did when he especially wanted her attention. Apparently the way he said her name always sounded different, softer if you believe the Lance sisters, but Oliver doesn’t see it. Gently gripping Felicity’s elbow he guided her out of the kitchen, towards the penthouse’s open plan living room and the comfortable sofas situated there.
Looking her right in those deep blue eyes, Oliver prods as quickly and gently as possible before Tia reappears “What is going on with you?” It’s a testament to how well he knows her , understands her that Oliver knows to pre-empt her inevitable lie “Don’t say –“
“Nothing” There it is, like clockwork, making Oliver cough with laugh laughter before talking over her
“Don’t say nothing.” His hands move to the smooth slope of her shoulders, left bare by the cut of her dress, bright pink, just a few shades paler than those trademark fushia lips which have a starring role in his fantasies of late. Achoring her and reassuring her all at once. “The truth, please”, speaking in the firm, kind tone he used on Thea (more often about Roy Harper than not these days) and perfected with Tia when they’ve done something they didn’t want him to know about as well as innocents who get a visit from the Hood.
He sees Felicity swallow. Hard. Oliver’s brow automatically furrows in response because when Felicity is nervous she babbles eight ways to Sunday. But when Felicity is scared? She shuts the hell up. And right now you could hear a pin drop.
In actuality, they can hear Tia scrambling around in her bedroom singing some little ditty as she looks for her Tiana doll which Oliver knows for a fact is in Felicity’s workbag beside the sofa opposite to the one they are currently stood in front of because Felicity was fixing the doll’s ratty skirts.
“You might have noticed that I talk a lot”
“It has not escaped my attention” Oliver joked with the crisp patience he reserved exclusively for Felicity as he waited for her to get her babbling out.
“You might have noticed that I don’t talk a lot...about my family”
Okay. Not where he expected this conversation to be going. She’s right of course, Oliver rarely hears Felicity discuss her family. There’s Barry Allen, he knows of over in Central City, a foster brother from a terrible accident involving his mother, Oliver’s never gotten the exact details, nor has he yet to meet Barry as Felicity always goes to him instead of him coming here to Starling but he can’t recall a conversation where Felicity has ever actually mentioned her parents. And if she’s going down this road something bad must have happened. Getting Felicity to talk about her family (his sure, she loves his family) is like pulling teeth. If it were possible Oliver’s expression only softens further and Felicity knows, in that way the two of them always do that it is not out of pity but compassion.
“I have noticed that” Oliver confirmed softly, not betraying the fact that the deeper he tried to dig into the background of Felicity’s origins after they’d first met, the less he seemed to find. He gives her arm a light squeeze, his thumb tracing a circle absentmindedly on her skin.
Felicity sighed “ I’ve told you about Barry. He’s the brother I never had. Blood-wise I mean given that he’s my brother legally and all. But, my mother is...she’s...she’s my mother. “ Felicity rolls her eyes and Oliver nods along, thinking of his own mother and the conditions she had placed on him and Tia upon his return, the never ending list of expectations. About the secrets he was sure she was keeping. “And I don’t really know what my father is, cos he abandoned us.”
Something clenches in Oliver’s chest at her words. The idea of cute little Felicity (he’s seen a photograph of seven year old Felicity with a boy he assumed was Barry, he knows these things) growing up without her father stings. Hell, he didn’t even know Florentia existed until a year ago and now the idea of leaving her, even if that was what was best, leaving her alone without the man who was supposed to keep her safe was unbearable. Well that was his job now. For both of them.
“I barely remember him. But I do remember how much it hurt when he left.” Her voice is tight, thick and her eyes are shining. Felicity is trying very hard to get out what she needs to say, to keep it together and Oliver needs to respect that regardless of how much he simply wishes he could gather her into his arms and let her cry. Felicity isn’t that girl. She’s a fighter and she’d much sooner kick his ass than let him coddle her. Still, her words confuse him. Does she think he’s leaving her high and dry? Has she heard some misconstrued nonsense?
“Just the thought of losing someone that important to me again...”her meaning becomes clear to him at the same moment her face crumples and Oliver is so touched by how much she cares for him (part of his ego is singing that he matters to her just as much as she matters to him but now is neither the time or the place and Sara would smack him for being so insensitive right now)
“Hey” Oliver reaches to cup Felicity’s face between his hands so that she cannot pull away from him, so that she has to comprehend the force of the conviction of what he is about to say “You are not going to lose me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you. Is it about your family?”
Felicity paused and for the first time since he’d arrived home that evening, she actually looked him in the eye. It was only briefly, but Oliver got the sense she was trying to decide something. Probably how much she should tell him. After everything he’d been through in the past 5 years, Oliver had gotten fairly good at reading people; how to know when they were lying, when they were after something particular, whether something was a pressure point or not.
“It’s my mom. She’s sick and Barry’s away in Frankfurt right now so, out of the two of us, it has to be me that goes to see her. I’m going to be leaving the day after tomorrow”
Oliver doesn’t see why this would provoke such a severe reaction from Tia and says as much before adding “It’s not a problem though. She’ll be fine the minute you get back, you’ll see.”
“That’s it though. I- I’m not coming back, Oliver. I was telling Tia that I was resigning as her au pair”
It’s almost like Oliver doesn’t even hear her. It’s like the pit’s fallen out of his stomach or he’s been tasered (which, for the record he has been. More than once). Felicity has become such a significant part of his day, of his life since returning from the island. Not to mention in Tia’s, his daughter essentially grew up with Felicity; Felicity was there for her first words, her first steps, her first day of preschool. Oliver imagined she’d be there for them all, either as au pair or someday something more. She’s a fixture in both of their lives. One he doesn’t want to live without.
“I’m sorry Oliver. I was going to tell you when Florentia was asleep but – I don’t know how long I’ll be gone so it’s for the best”
No. It’s not.
“Felicity, I –“
“Dada I can’t find T!” His daughter really had the worst timing, her re-entry into the main area breaking the spell that had been cast around himself and Felicity. She got it from Thea, he’d swear to God. They both turn to see Tia come dashing cross the floor to come and stand in front of her two parental figures looking as severely unimpressed as it was for a six year old to be. Even worse she looked like she was on the brink of more unhappy tears. Evidently glad of the interruption, Felicity jumps into action, retrieving a made over Tiana doll from the bag of sewing and holding it out as an offering to the disgruntled child. Predictably, the change in mood is immediate. A blinding smile, reminiscent of a young Speedy, illuminates the little girl’s face as she snatches the doll-
“Don’t snatch Florentia” Felicity reprimands “We don’t snatch”
“Sorry, Fleecy” Tia replies, hugging the doll to her and with Tiana safely in the crook of her arm, she takes Felicity’s hand and busies herself with getting Felicity to sit herself where Tia instructs. Oliver can’t fight back the laugh that erupts from his throat as his daughter, who is in essence their daughter, throws her doll so that it lands on the counter before sticking her hands up saying “Up, Lissa pwease”.
Felicity moves to fulfil her wish and Oliver is left once more to stand and watch his girls in silence. Florentia and Felicity. He likes the odd trick of fate that grouped this alliteration into his life. Even though the pull towards her is stronger than anything; stronger than Sara, Helena, McKenna (to name just a few of his previous liaisons) or even Laurel, who he dreamt of returning to. Tia’s calls finally catch his attention and plastering on the smile he reserves for the various socialites or family members he has to lie to on a daily basis, Oliver joins his ladies in the kitchen; ready to whip up his signature hot chocolate. Felicity catches his eye once more and they share a sad, tentative smile, both aware that this domestic bliss will soon be ending. But right here and right now Oliver knows that he can’t do anything but stick to his original plan and enjoy his evening. Tomorrow will be when the difficulties begin. Finding a replacement for Felicity, helping her pack up which he’ll have to make time for – he wonders if he can blow off that board meeting without Isabel Rochev skinning him alive. Not to mention checking in with Digg after he hooded up tonight. Particularly since Digg had all but ordered him to ‘Stop lying to yourself, pull your head out your ass and admit to Felicity that you’re in love with her’
He’d wanted to laugh it off, like he had when Thea had said that she had a list of suggestions for places when he got around to proposing, tell Digg that he was getting a little bit ahead of himself, that Oliver certainly liked Felicity but love was a little too strong a word. But he does. He loves Felicity Smoak. He loves the little crease between her eyebrows when she's working, her ponytail, the way her nail polish changes every week, her colourful, geeky loungewear.
Felicity, who is the only mystery worth solving anymore. That he thought he’d have all the time in the world with to solve, to see if he could be with her as himself and then maybe as the Arrow.
He knows it’s incredibly selfish of him to even consider asking Felicity to delay her leaving, or worse still, ask her to wait for Barry to return from Germany so that he can be the one to take care of Donna. Incredibly selfish and yet it would solve the problem so effectively. Oliver shakes his head wishing to dismiss the thought entirely. When he returned from Lian Yu he swore he wouldn’t be the selfish boy who had originally stepped on the Queen’s Gambit. He has to be better, the city deserves better. His daughter deserves a better father. Felicity deserves a better man.
So all in all isn’t the fact that she’s leaving for the best? Felicity deserves someone who wouldn’t put her in danger simply by existing, Felicity deserves someone who doesn’t lie to her everyday, who she won’t have to wait around for, worrying that he’s lying in a gutter wounded or worse. He thought he’d have time to try and get there.
Only time’s run out an he can’t be selfish with her.
But hell does he want to be. Which is why for the next 48 hours, he won’t convince Felicity not to go. He’ll make it his mission to make sure she comes back.
Comes home.