Chapter Text
Being engaged is exhausting, which is why Felicity doesn't think she can be blamed for hiding away at Watchtower.
Her white pumps click-clack against the steel floors as she walks over to her workstation to start her computer, pointedly ignoring the two sets of eyes staring at her as she flicks on her three monitors. The Birds of Prey have been tracking a cyber-criminal that wants to destroy the internet (which is horrible because she loves the internet), so she can't afford to be focused elsewhere. Finding a cyber-criminal is far more important than picking out invitations and picking a date and partaking in another argument about rings and family heirlooms with Moira Queen.
Sara and Laurel are sparring when she arrives, but the two quickly join her at her workstation. “What are you doing here?” Sara asks Felicity while handing Laurel a water bottle from the small mini-fridge, mouth quirking in amusement when the lawyer knocks it back, guzzling it down. Her attention then refocuses on the blonde hacker, “I thought you were supposed to go ring shopping with Oliver before the engagement party tonight?”
“Yeah, I was, but apparently Moira had a ring sent up from the family vault this morning because appearances must be kept up,” Felicity growls, her fingers hitting the keyboard with a little more force than necessary. “So, since Moira has everything in hand, I figured with The Calculator trying to destroy the internet, my time would be better spent here, you know, checking things out.”
“Felicity, this is your wedding ring we're talking about, you should choose the ring you're going to wear for the rest of your life.” Laurel insists, her own wedding ring seemingly glittering where it rests on her finger (just to mock her, Felicity knows) as she caps the water bottle before she tosses it back to Sara.
Catching the bottle, Sara puts it back in the fridge and smirks, “Or at least until you realize you're out of Oliver Queen's league and kick him to the curb.”
Felicity doesn't even acknowledge that Sara has spoken, and instead focuses on Laurel, “I know, but it's not like I'm getting married tomorrow, we haven't even picked a date yet. I've got some time.”
“You do,” Laurel soothes in her big-sister voice like she's talking to a cornered animal instead of a fully functional adult who is so totally not overreacting, “But still. When a girl isn't the least bit giddy about ring shopping and picking a date, that usually means something's very wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong,” Felicity immediately denies as her eyes scan the lines of code on her screens but she can feel a heavy weight begin to settle in her chest when she adds, “You know, maybe I'm just not one of those brides that goes crazy about every little detail. Did you ever think about that, Laurel?”
“Ignoring that very pointed comment,” Laurel muses, her mouth turned up at the corner because she knows for a fact that she had been approaching on Bridezilla territory when it came to planning her own wedding to Tommy, “I think you have a classic case of cold feet.”
“I don't have cold feet,” Felicity protests, “Because I'm— because I love Oliver. I do, okay. Crazy for him, love him.”
“Okay, yeah, sure, I believe you,” Laurel assures as eyes sweep over Felicity, noticing the way the blonde fidgets with the engagement ring that rests on her finger and practically vibrates in her chair before Laurel places her hands on her friend's shoulders, squeezing gently. “And I love Tommy, too,” she shrugs, “But that doesn't mean I didn't get knots in my stomach the moment I said yes.”
Felicity stills. “You did? Really?”
“It's perfectly normal,” Laurel confirms.
“Well, is it normal to fight about every little thing?”
“When you're in a relationship with Oliver? Actually, yes.” Laurel teases and it shows just how far she's come (how far all of them have come) when there's no bitterness in her voice when she mentions her previous relationship with Oliver. “Tommy and I fought about everything from the seating plan to the cake,” Laurel assures Felicity once her friend meets her eyes. “Tommy wanted chocolate, but I wanted carrot and he kept cracking jokes about Bugs Bunny not having RSVP'd yet.”
Felicity snorts.
“So why the cold feet?” Tonight is the night of Oliver and Felicity's engagement party, which she suspects was the trigger that suddenly made all of this real to Felicity. “I thought at the salon, you said you guys were good.” The Birds of Prey, including their fringe members (Laurel and Sin), as well as Thea, went to the spa yesterday to get their nails done and the topic of conversation had quickly turned to Felicity and Oliver's upcoming nuptials.
Felicity exhales shakily, slouching in her seat until her head rests against the back of her chair. “We are good,” and it's true, they are, Felicity has never been more sure of anything than she is of the love she has for Oliver, “And we're great.”
“Look, you just need to relax and spend a little time together,” Sara adds now that she is sure Laurel has talked their stepsister down from a meltdown. “You need to tell him how you're feeling and talk it out, and, you know, listen. That's always a good thing.”
“I could probably do a little more listening than I've been doing,” Felicity admits.
“Good, because Oliver is here,” Sara grins, wide and sharp and bright.
Felicity's brows furrow and her heart stutters at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and she lets out a string of low, sharp swears when Sara holds up her phone in response to the unspoken question. Sara must have called him while she was talking to Laurel. “You sneaky bloodsucker,” Felicity growls through gritted teeth, “You double-crossing, untrustworthy traitor.”
Laughter, light and brassy, tumbles from Sara’s mouth. “Oh, it's too late to try sweet-talking me,” She says and then she's looking at someone over by the door and Felicity swallows hard over the lump in her throat because she knows, without glancing over, that Sara's looking at Oliver. “You'll take it from here, Ollie?” She asks as she passes Oliver.
Oliver's eyes don't even flicker away from Felicity. “Yes. Thank you, Sara.”
Laurel and Sara's footsteps recede down the stairs, leaving them alone.
“Felicity?” Oliver's voice is cautious, hesitant, and she hates that she's done this to him, but then he is walking across the floor towards her with slow and careful steps. His hand lands lightly on her shoulder and the very second she feels it, Felicity relaxes into his touch. “Hey,” Oliver says simply, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
Felicity spins her chair around and stands up, and before she knows it strong arms are winding around her. “Hey,” she murmurs as she winds her arms around Oliver, breathing him in, the familiar feel of cool leather beneath her cheek and she is home. “You didn't have to come just because Sara called you,” she mumbles.
He buries his head in her hair and she feels him inhale deeply. “I was already on my way,” Oliver says with a shaky breath, “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay, sure,” she says, tightening her hold and then she pulls back a little, looking up at him. “Wait, is there something wrong?” Felicity asks because I was already on my way and there is something off, something about the way Oliver's holding himself, and for a minute she forgets about everything except the fact that he's standing in front of her looking like he'd rather be facing Deathstroke. “Are you alright?”
Oliver's smile is so wide his dimple appears, and she can't help but think it's unfair how attractive he is. “I'm okay, we're okay,” He assures and she feels like she can breathe and the fact that he knew she needed to hear that they're okay makes her fall in love with him all over again. “I know things have been hectic lately,” an understatement if there ever was one, “So, if there's too much going on, Felicity, if you can't deal with this wedding right now, then—”
Her heart is in her stomach, beating fast. “No, of course, I can deal with this wedding!” Felicity's blue eyes widen behind her glasses when her words catch up with her brain. “Not deal with like it's a hassle to plan this wedding with you, obviously, more like deal with like... Actually, it is kind of a hassle to plan this wedding with you.” She babbles, and Oliver huffs a laugh, almost like she surprised it out of him, a reaction she's always thrilled to earn because the Oliver she first met didn't smile very often. “And it's not a hassle because I don't want to marry you,” Felicity insists, “I do, definitely, it's just we have so many decisions we have to make and we haven't even picked a date yet.”
Oliver's gaze drops to her pink mouth, and Felicity's stomach does a little flip in response. “About the date. I, uh, I actually had a thought about that,” Oliver admits, brushing her hair from her face, and his expression is damn near soft and adoring as he stares at her with those impossibly blue eyes. “Will you marry me,” He asks.
Felicity wraps her arms around his waist, resting her chin against his chest and holding him tightly, something akin to amusement sparkling in her blue eyes as she gazes up at Oliver. “I think I already answered that question,” she teases, flashing her engagement ring, and Oliver lets out a little laugh, exasperation and affection and amusement all intermingled together.
Oliver’s eyes crinkle in amusement before he says. “So you did,” He murmurs, his blue eyes twinkling, and then he brings her in close, his fingers stroking soothingly over the small of her back. “It's, it's never going to be the right time. Not with the lives we lead. And, you know, I keep thinking; Lance is better, things with my mother are the best they have been in months, and things have been quiet on the Calculator front,” Oliver points out, “And a part of me feels like this might be our window and with everything that we have gone through over the past few months, I want you to tell me; why are we waiting?”
She looks up at him and Oliver looks so earnest that Felicity’s smile is wide and dazzling when she says, “Well, we still have to plan it,” Felicity points out as she traces the lines of his face because this is what started her near-meltdown in the first place; the sheer number of decisions they have to make and the fact that, no matter what they decide, they can't make everyone happy.
Oliver relaxes as she stops tracing the lines of his face, her hands cupping his cheeks, “Mm-hmm,” he nods.
“Maybe just a small ceremony with our closest friends,” Felicity muses, fingers curled under his jaw.
“My mom will hate that,” Oliver whispers like it's a secret and Felicity laughs and says, “So will mine. I'm in.”
Laughing, Oliver kisses her, and Felicity's mind blanks when he tugs her flush against him before he presses his lips against hers, and then she's pushing herself closer, her arms sliding up his back and going around his shoulders at the same time she runs her tongue along his bottom lip. Oliver moans and she tightens her hold on him because she loves him and she's going to marry him and at this moment everything is perfect.
Which is why Sara ruins the moment.
“I guess we still have an engagement to celebrate,” Sara teases.
Felicity pulls back from Oliver, rolling her eyes, but then an idea crosses her mind and her eyes don't flicker away from Oliver when she says, “Well, actually, we've been talking about that,” she says and all she can think about is a small ceremony with our closest friends, “And we can still have the engagement party on one condition— if we turn it into a wedding instead.”
Oliver's smile is blinding.