Chapter Text
Sun shined through their window, casting light directly over Felicity’s eyes. Normally, Oliver would usually go out for a long run, careful not to disturb his wife, but in recent weeks he really understood that he needed to be with her. Their sunlight wasn’t what woke her from the calm pull of sleep, which she really could use more of right now. Although, lately she wasn’t getting much of it with their busy lives and constantly changing body. In the morning she felt their baby stretch inside the swell of her belly. She smiled at the feel of a strong kick, and her arm looked tiny by comparison next to Oliver’s arm which was also draped just above the bump.
This time should be one of the happiest moments in both her and Oliver’s lives, and for the first few months it was. They loved to have these private little moments just the baby, Oliver, and her.
4 Weeks Ago
Felicity said to their unborn baby, “You know, I think you take after your Daddy with all that fight training on my bladder.”
“No.” Oliver knelt down with a gentle whisper. Felicity lifted up her loose red wine blouse to just underneath her breasts, and her husband pressed a long, soft smooch to her barely there baby bump, “I hope you’re more like Mommy. Baby girl, please be more like Mommy.”
“I think he’ll be like both of us.” His wife insisted while her fingers combed through her husband spiky blonde locks.
His argument was laced with a small laugh, “I still say the baby’s a girl.”
“Nope.” She fired back confidently, “Mother’s intuition outweighs Daddy’s incorrect guesses all the time.”
“Well, I guess we’ll see who’s right in a few weeks, Hon.”
“Deal.”
They shook on it, and Oliver pulled on Felicity’s hand into a kiss, complete with a mix of her morning breath and his coffee breath. She kind of liked it since she couldn’t have any coffee again until baby Queen is born. Later that night, they had dinner with Quentin and Donna since they hadn’t been able to get together for the past couple of months. Busy schedules were like murder to proper family bonding time. The small kitchen in Quentin and Donna’s cozy one bedroom apartment was wafting with the usually delectable scent of Quentin’s chicken cacciatore, though it wasn't as spectacular as Oliver’s chicken cordon bleu at least that was according to Oliver himself. Any good chicken was just simply good chicken to Felicity and Donna. It didn’t matter how it was prepared, though they would never dare tell Oliver and Quentin that idea.
They chatted briefly about their days before they finally sat down at the dinner table. Quentin poured everyone else a glass of smooth white wine while he grabbed a bottled water for himself.
“Actually, can you grab a water for me too, please?” Felicity politely asked, latching onto Quentin’s wrist before he poured her a glass.
Donna squeaked, and her eyes lit up with glee brighter than her menorah on the last night of Hanukkah. She even bounced a little in her seat. Oliver and Felicity couldn’t hide their big toothy grins. However, Quentin was the only one, who didn’t get it yet. His forehead resembled the horizontal blinds on their windows.
“You sure, kiddo?” Quentin wondered, “This ain’t the cheap stuff from the box this time.”
Donna knew. Of course, she knew. Although, she still wanted to inquire, “Oliver, Felicity is there something you two to need to tell us? Just curious as to why you aren’t drinking tonight? We have one of your favorite wines.”
Oliver started, “Well.” He stretched out the word, and his tone was slightly higher than normal.
“I can’t drink any alcohol because I’m pregnant.” Felicity confirmed with a smile as her and Oliver’s hands blanketed her little baby bump, smartly concealed by Felicity’s large purse and flowy pink blouse.
“Ooh, I knew it. I knew it.” Donna cheered, her pitched raised with excitement, “I’m gonna be a bubbe. Not grandma, guys. The baby will need to know somewhat of his or her Jewish heritage.”
“Of course.”
Quentin added, “I guess that makes me a Pop Pop I better not hear ‘grandpa’ out da kid’s mouth when he or she’s old enough to talk. I don’t look like a grandpa.”
“Mmm hmm. Sure, you don’t.” His stepdaughter tried to agree adamantly. But, a giggle bubbled up out of her. So she swiftly directed her gaze towards Oliver. “Because you better believe when we raise this baby, my faith will be represented.”
“I know,” Oliver promised as his hand drifted down to her knee.
Quentin, Donna, Oliver, and Felicity spent the rest of their night swapping stories. They discussed how far along she is right now. They mentioned what to expect in the future. The family wrapped up their night with some sweet celebratory cannolis for dessert.
“Something my mom said got you all flustered, which is weird, considering you two are so buddy-buddy. What was it?”
“Maybe, we shouldn’t have told her how far along you are.” Oliver warned with a clear of his throat, “Because she decided to crunch the numbers, told me ‘birthday sex is amazing,’ and then mentioned the time she and Quentin…”
“Oh God. Oh God, I don’t wanna know.” His wife feigned a gag, and her fingertips rubbed his bicep, “I’m so sorry, Honey. My mother is, well, she’s my mother. You’ve met her. You’ve seen how she is.”
“She’s definitely colorful and a free spirit.” He shrugged, “Despite that comment, I blocked it out by remembering what an amazing night that was.”
She recalled, “It was pretty romantic and sexy.”
October, Earlier that year
The night that baby Queen was conceived, it was Felicity’s birthday. Oliver had decided to whisk his wife of four months away on a picnic in the park. She shivered since the cool autumn air nipped at her bare arms. Like the gentleman that her husband is, he warmed her up by draping his large black leather jacket over her shoulders. He had already given her a handmade gold necklace, constructed out of arrowheads. Archery was a fun hobby of his since his buddy Tommy said that it was all the rage. But, his surprises didn’t end there.
“Remember this?” Her husband quizzed, gesturing to the label on the bottle after she heard him easily pop off the top.
Lafite Rothschild 1982.
“Of course, I do, Oliver.” His wife pointed out, “It’s the wine we had at our wedding.”
He continued, “It’s also the first bottle of wine we ever shared together.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” She playfully teased with a deliriously happy smile, “Show off.”
They ate their way through some creamy gourmet cheese, crispy baked crackers, richly spiced salami, and sweet fig jam while drinking a few glasses of their favorite red wine. They didn’t know what they more drunk off of each other or the wine. Okay, maybe they weren’t that bad. But, they both were a little tipsy.
“C’mere.” Oliver waved Felicity over with a ‘come hither’ motion of his finger. She scooted closer and rose up on her knees, their lips mere centimeters apart, “I love you so damn much. Hap-happy birthday, Baby.”
“I love you too, Oliver s-so, so much.” It was hard to see since the only light nearby were a couple of candles and an adjacent street lamp, but her cheeks warmed in a subtle pink flush.
He propped up on his knees. Their heads tilted into a wet kiss. Their lips smacked together in a passionate frenzy. Felicity sneaked some tongue in there and to her disappointment, he pulled away for a brief moment.
“Mmph, Felicity. How’s your birthday going? Are you having a good time?”
Really? Did have to ask this now? But maybe that was the wine talking. She’d never let his broodiness fool her, he could get really chatty, especially when it was just the two of them alone with no one else, but each other at night.
“Yes, this has been the best birthday ever. None of our lovable, crazy families. Just you and me, it’s perfect.” She responded, trailing a breathy giggle. “But this is one more thing I want tonight— no matter where we are.”
“Name it.” Oliver prompted, “If it’s you asking, I’ll do it.”
“You.” Her voice laden with desire, intentionally huskier than her usual tone. “Right now under the stars on the blanket. It’s the best way to wrap up my birthday with a bang.”
Sure, it was cheesy, but effective. She slipped off his jacket, and suddenly Oliver’s back crashed into the red and white checkered picnic blanket thankfully cushioned by soft grass. Felicity leaned over him just like she loved most times. Her kisses moved in time with each button of his shirt she flicked open. His nipples immediately hardened due to the chilly night air, and he held onto her hips before she started grinding on his stiffening erection. Damn, his dark blue jeans were getting quite uncomfortable. But then he remembered, they’re in a public park, and besides that the cold may lead to some shrinkage issues.
“Felicity, Felicity, wait!” He interrupted with another annoying break of their kisses. “This is a public park, and it’s cold out tonight.”
“Oliver, that’s never stopped us before.” She huffed, her head tilted in annoyance, “If you don’t want to. Then, maybe we should just…”
“No, no. I do.” He assured before hands cupped her ass and trailed up her back, “I just think it’s better if we go in the truck, warm up, so we can have the best birthday sex you’ve ever had right here under the stars. Plus, I think I’m laying down on a rock.”
She nodded. They got up, and rolled everything in the blanket quickly. Oliver placed it all in the trunk of the Range Rover. Their truck was covertly hidden from view by some tall trees. Felicity pressed a button to turn on the light in the truck while she waited for him in the passenger seat.
Felicity figured, not wanting to wait any longer, “You ready?”
Not a word was uttered from his mouth. Just a devilish little grin before he pulled his wife over onto his lap. She let an embarrassed little whimper followed by his uncontrollable laugh since she accidently beeped the car horn with her butt. They resumed kissing after he leaned the driver’s seat back, and Felicity hips moved in with harsh little thrusts, purposefully intended to rile him up already.
“Hey, hey, slow down.” Oliver warned with a light smack on her butt, “It’s your birthday, and I know how you love when I love every single inch of skin, when I kiss every single part of your body, and the way I move inside you because you know how perfectly we fit together.”
Felicity shuddered at his words. Despite his previous warning, she heard him unzipping her dress. Suddenly, she felt the beige, buttery leather backseat against her bare back. He yanked down the rest of her purple dress. His blue button up shirt joined her dress near the dashboard. She toed off her black ballet flats, reaching for the zipper of his blue jeans. But he gently pinned her wrists above her head. She arched her back a bit, so Oliver helped her take off her bra and panties.
“Oliver, my love, you don’t have to make tonight just about me. I want to…” Her sigh was shadowed with frustration.
“Shh, Felicity. All you need to do is close your eyes and relax.”
She did. That was when she realized the act of simply feeling and not seeing him made this moment so much more intense. Her breath hitched at certain little collisions of their bare skin. She bit back these soft little whimpers when he made good on his promise of kissing every single inch of her body. That was surprising, taking into account that they were in the back of their truck. She was grateful that their Range Rover had an uncharacteristically spacious backseat.
First, Felicity felt the cool metal of her husband’s wedding band scrape against her hardened nipple, followed by slight pressure from the rest of his fingers, squeezing her breast in a tantalizing slow motion. Then his teeth grazed her neck slightly at the pulse point. The combined, simultaneous sensations were a heady rush of ecstasy. But, when his fingers slipped into her wet aching center that was just a bundle of pleasure, it could really make this one Helluva happy birthday.
“Oh, God. Yes, Oliver!” She keened while he crooked his fingers in search of just the right spot when he found it, “Yes…Right, there…Honey….Don’t stop. Oh…Oliver!"
Her moans became muffled by his kiss while one of his arms securely braced her trembling body. Her eyes clamped shut even more so than before, and she saw stars behind her eyelids. She definitely felt the intensity of that orgasm since her core kept clenching as a warm wetness seeped down to the point where she knew she probably stained the front of Oliver’s jeans. Her breath came out in heavy pants when she finally reopened her eyes. Her pale skin was now a flushed pink.
Oliver’s lips tilted at the intensity of her mitigated blue eyes shifting down to his jeans. He was more than ready, but he still wondered, “How ya feeling, Baby?”
He could be a cocky little pain in the ass, but Felicity replied in a slur, “Amazing, do, um want any help with that?”
“No,” Her husband refused, emphasized with a shake of his head, “I can do all the work.”
He wriggled out of his messy dark blue jeans followed by his light gray boxers and as he literal hot body blanketed hers again. She teasingly quirked an eyebrow, “Oh, so now it’s work, Honey?”
“Sorry,” Oliver corrected in a whisper, “What I meant to say is tonight, just let me love you.”
Also, cheesy and a bit cliché. Yet, it got her to stop talking for a moment. He penetrated more than just fine. They kissed along with every thrust of his hips.
“Ooh, Frack” She whimpered while she fought the urge not to nip at Oliver’s shoulder blade, “It feels really good having you inside me.”
Provided they weren’t having sex, he would’ve grumbled, “Hon.” But instead his body was focused on giving her pleasure until he felt his own approaching fast. Her walls were warm, wet, and deliciously snug around him, “Oh, fuck…Babe…Baby, I can’t…You feel, Fuck…Felicity!”
Sweat dripped down him among other things as it burst in an explosion of euphoria, which brought on a wave of a smaller second orgasm for her. She felt the weight of his body on top of her own as Oliver shuddered and breathed shakily against her skin. Her fingertips gently caressed his scars, which contrasted her nails raking over his back. Not sharp, but just enough to give him a bit of a feel.
Her tone was low when she murmured, “Hey, stranger, Best birthday ever” as their gazes met again.
“Good. I’m glad.” He muttered against her forehead before he kissed it. His thumbs settled in the pools of her cute little dimples before they were ready to get back to their seats, get re-dressed, and go home.
Present Day
Six weeks later, Oliver and Felicity had discovered. Felicity got an extra special belated birthday gift when they found out she was pregnant with their first child together. Her 23rd birthday was one of her best years ever. She was happy that she got the share the news with her mother, but that happiness was short-lived. She remembers the moment vividly. It’s like it plays over and over in her head as if it’s on a continuous loop in her mind’s memory bank.
Two mere days after Oliver and Felicity announced the news of her pregnancy to Quentin and Donna. She got a phone call from her mother’s phone, which she ignored because she and Oliver had an early morning meeting with Curtis in Queen Incorporated’s R&D department.
“My mother, again.” Felicity groaned. She stuck her phone on silent, and shoved it into her purse. “You know what? Her constant tidbits of new baby advice can wait. We can’t show up for another meeting with Curtis.”
“Uh-huh, He’s really excited about this invention.” her husband agreed, turning his phone off as well and sticking it in his briefcase. “Curtis calls it the T-Sphere.”
The T-Sphere still needed a little bit more work before it was ready to present to the masses. But, it was quite a terrific device that could really be beneficial for SCPD’s finest men and women in blue. After the presentation was over, Oliver and Felicity both turned on their phones again.
Their screens blew up with messages and voicemails from both Quentin and Thea. Felicity’s heart rate shot up, although Oliver tried to keep her as calm as he could. Anxiety and stress weren’t good for her or the baby. They knew that Quentin and Donna were involved in a car accident during a routine ride along.
Felicity’s heels clacked against the blue, green, and white tile of the hospital’s floor like a race horse. Oliver steadied her, gripping her hand in comfort. Quentin simply stood at the end of the hall in a shell-shocked state. His forehead crumpled, his eyes gleamed with unshed tears, and his breathing was weighted with a guilt, regret, and pain. But, he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t get closer to his stepdaughter right now. Quentin’s stare would have said it all. Still, Felicity had to be sure.
“M-my mother…Is she?” She gulped. Nerves caused her voice to jangle, “Did she?”
Quentin regained some his voice because he had to tell her. She had to know. “No. We had a deal that I would go first. We had a deal. Oh, God. I can’t do this again. First, Laurel. Now, Donna. I couldn’t swerve out of the way before that drunk street racer hit us. I’m so sorry, Felicity. She’s gone.”
Oliver’s eyes shined with tears as well, but now he had to be strong for Felicity. It took a long moment for her to register what had really just happened. Her breath stuttered when she finally released this loud wail of a cry. She buried herself into Oliver’s arms. The only time he had ever seen her in such pain was when she was temporarily paralyzed last year from a drive-by shooter. He prayed that she would never be in that much anguish again, but clearly his prayers weren’t answered.
Quentin had fallen to his knees, needing to regain his bearings. Felicity’s shaky breaths were muffled against her husband’s suit. Makeup and snot coated the lapel of his gray suit jacket, but he didn’t care. He supportively gripped Quentin’s shoulder while his other arm was safely wrapped around his wife’s waist just above her baby bump. He had to be more than just a son-in-law and husband, he was their strength and their anchor.
Regardless of the upcoming criminal investigation for the drunk street racer now in custody, they were able to hold Donna’s funeral a week later. Felicity was the last one to shovel dirt on her mother’s casket per the Jewish custom. She and Oliver were the last ones to leave the cemetery. Gray clouds darkened the sky, fitting for a funeral now that Felicity’s own light was gone. Water began to drip down from the clouds in a fast approaching shower.
Oliver offered while his hands kneaded over his wife’s tense shoulders, “I know you want to stay longer, but it’s starting to rain. We can go home. I’ll get you a glass of hot milk and challah bread in a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream.”
“No, no.” His wife grumbled, not really comprehending how they made it to the limo already. “Sleep. I just want sleep.”
“Okay, fine.” He relented, willing to do anything to make her happy even today— one of the most gut-wrenching days of her entire life. “Why don’t you take a shower and a nap? I’ll wake you up after an hour. Then, we can have popcorn, watch Dr. Who, and we can spend the whole night talking if that’s what you want.”
“I promise. I’m not shutting you out. I just need time, and what you mentioned before it does sound kind of nice. But, please, I don’t want you to worry about me too much. I’m…” Her tone led him to believe that she stated that out of obligation as opposed to the actual truth.
As they sat in the limo, he cut her off, “Don’t say that you’re fine when I know you’re not, and that’s okay. You need to grieve, to feel sad for a little while, to heal. It’s a part of what makes us human. Look me in the eyes, and honestly tell me that you won’t shut me out.”
“I promise that I won’t ever shut you out.” His wife reassured, emphasized by the way she intertwined their fingers. That was when he knew she really meant it this time.
“Thank you.”
She made an attempt at a joke, though her eyes still glistened with sadness, “So I’ll take popcorn, Dr. Who, and a back rub for 500, Alex.”
“You don’t have to be funny for me. You know that, right?” Oliver reminded, his thumb traced ambiguous patterns over the back of her hand.
“I know. I guess I just thought it would make all of this seem easier.”
It didn’t, but for the first time that day they both rediscovered a comforting silence in each other. Felicity was so comfortable she fell asleep in the limo on the ride home. Her legs stretched out to the empty third seat, and her back was against Oliver’s side like he was a firm pillow.
Two weeks after Donna’s funeral, Quentin discovered that Donna left her bar, Vendetta in Felicity’s name. It was her decision if she wanted to keep managing the bar or not. She had talked it over with Oliver for at least three nights. She never earned a Master’s degree in business management. She had no prior experience as a bar and restaurant owner, although Felicity did waitress and bartend here during her early years in college.
Sure, she was a little reluctant to leave Queen Incorporated without a VP. But, Oliver could do a great job with Walter by his side.
“Are you wanna do this, Felicity?” Oliver asked, one last time. There was no backing out on the deal after she crossed the t’s and dotted the i’s.
Yet, there, Oliver, Felicity, and Quentin stood in a once bright and vibrant bar and restaurant full of love, laughter, and life. Now it seemed dustier than usual, although they would really to clean this place up after two and a half weeks of being closed. The room was cast in shadows, and the light emitted was a small crack of sunlight from a small window with a ripped shade.
Felicity believed, “I’m positive, Oliver. My mother got this place when we moved from Vegas to Star City. She built it from the ground up in six inch heels, barely able to pay herself until she hit it big. My mother loved people, carrying on every day conversations with them, and she knew most of her customers’ names. I want that, Honey. I want to keep her legacy alive, to honor her memory. Our memories because if it wasn’t for this place, I wouldn’t have met you here six years ago, and we wouldn’t be able to have this beautiful baby girl of ours in a few months.”
“Alright, I’m on your side.”
“That’s the spirit, Queen.” Quentin clapped his son-in-law on the back before he tossed Felicity the keys. “Okay. Let’s get to work. The bar’s not gonna reopen itself.”
Felicity was pregnant, but she certainly didn’t suffer from ‘mom mind’. She was a quick study, and Gerry could help her figure it out. Running and a bar/restaurant and helping to run a corporation weren’t that different, right? She wasn’t gonna ask herself “What could possibly go wrong?” Because that spelled the death of business and characters in every single horror movie she had ever seen. Oliver believed in her, but more importantly she believed in herself. Yeah, she’s got this. Or at least, she hoped she did.