#on the drive home lance pretends like their car broke down in the middle of the woods

[justaz]

lance and keith are both horror junkies but on opposite ends of the spectrum. keith loves horror movies while lance loves true crime. lance forces himself to sit with keith and watch scary movies bc he like spending time with his bf. he spends the entire movie clinging to him, his arms so tight around keith’s ribs that he can barely breathe. keith returns the favor by watching true crime documentaries with lance. he is horrified at all of it bc y’know. its real. and thats scary. he insists on going with lance everywhere when he has to leave (ie to the store or a friends house or even the mailbox) and repeatedly checks their houses locks on all the doors and windows.

[667-darkavenue]

young legends die all the time (part one.)

i havent shared any of my writing in a while so in my traditional style, i’ll share a WIP in the middle of the night. this is an allurance gang au. despite the title, no one actually dies.

The royal families were something of a myth for Lance when he was growing up.

“Never cross that street,” his mom hissed, squeezing the wrist she’d just yanked him back by.

“Why?” he whined, from both pain and petulance.

“If the Witch sees little boys from our side of town, she steals them and eats them.” She said it like a matter of fact. “Our side is safe.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause the King watches over us, papi.”

The parents of this torn city desperately needed some way to hammer in hard lessons to their children without breaking their innocence. When he was older, Lance would wonder if that’s the reason why everything to do with the royal families was given such whimsical language. But while he was a kid, it totally worked.

“Wanna play Druids and Paladins?” His friends would ask in the schoolyard.

The children flipped a penny to decide who would play the leaders, then the pretend-Witch and pretend-King would choose their teams. Sometimes the weapons were water balloons, or nerf guns, or just two fingers pointed at their opponents with a ‘Bang!’

This had an unintended consequence their parents didn’t account for. As far back as Lance could remember, he always wanted to be a paladin.

Fresh out of high school, he got a job at the same restaurant as his best friend. Unfortunately, they never saw each other. Hunk worked all the way at the back of the kitchen and Lance didn’t even work inside the place. He stood out front, opened doors to cars that pulled in, and took them to valet parking.

That’s how he became friends with the finest girl in the world.

Within his first few days on the job, a white Bentley pulled into the driveway. An older man sat in the driver’s seat and a cascade of thick hair bent down in the passenger side, probably fishing a purse out from around her feet. Lance opened the door from her side first, offering a hand to help the lady out. She took it with barely glance at him, sweeping a bit of silvery hair out of the way as she slung her purse over her shoulder and stepped out of the car. It was a fancy restaurant with fancy clientele, but something about the casual way people interacted with Lance as if valets weren’t anything out of the ordinary for them never stopped catching him off guard. This girl though. She paused once she was on her feet and got a proper look at him. And he got a good look at her too. Oh shit, she’s gorgeous.

She pulled her hand away from his. “You’re new.”

She’s got an accent!!!!

“You can tell?” Lance’s chest pounded. “What’d I do?”

The smile she gave him was a small one, but it still crinkled the corners of her bright blue eyes. “Nothing.”

Her father, who was also striking to look at, came around from the other side of the car. Side by side, the pair smelled like money and oozed sophistication.

He passed Lance the keys and noted, “You’re new.”

“Yeah,” Lance answered, voice devastated at how obvious it apparently was.

Father and daughter shared an amused look, a silent inside joke, between each other. They didn’t bother to fill Lance in, either. Without a word, they entered the restaurant.

It didn’t take long to get somewhat familiar with them. Her father was a regular there and tipped a ten every time. Naturally, Lance adored him. The dad had to like him back, right?

The restaurant had a round table that was never given to customers under any circumstances, no matter how packed the night was. It was always left open so that just in case that father or his daughter walked in, they could be seated right away. Even if they didn’t show up for ten nights in a row, the table would stay empty. Like they were phantoms of the freaking opera.

They used it now and then for private father-daughter dinners. More often, it was used to hold meetings with all manner of people. People in suits, people in sweats, local government officials, guys with face tattoos. Lance got a signal from the hostess whenever the round table’s dinner was drawing to a close, so that their Bentley would be ready and waiting the moment they stepped outside. All the other normal customers needed to hand Lance a ticket and stand outside while he fetched their car.

One night, the finest girl in the world stepped out early. The swoosh of the front door brought the chatter of the restaurant outside. Lance’s heart jumped into his throat when he realized it was her.

“Oh! Sorry, I don’t have your car ready,” He blurted, a little flustered. “Romelle usually gives me a sign to get ready for you guys.”

The door swung closed behind her, muffling the din inside and leaving them alone in the dim stillness of the driveway. “It’s alright. We aren’t leaving.”

She walked a few steps closer to the edge of the driveway, looking out at the road. Lance had no idea what she was doing or what he was supposed to be doing. A silent pause stretched between them.

She looked back toward him. “What is the sign?”

“The wha?” “You said you get a signal when she knows we’re finishing up.”

“Oh. It’s—Uh—Kind of a joke.”

She raised her eyebrows, urging him on without a word.

“She says,” Lance reluctantly admitted, “The british are coming.”

He laughed halfway through, ‘cause it was so dumb.

It got a chuckle out of the finest girl in the world, as well. “But she’s British as well.”

“I know,” Lance snorted.

He could see the round table through the restaurant’s front window if he stood in the right spot. Lance craned his neck to scope out the situation. Her dad was still sitting down over coffee with three old white guys.

“Things get awkward at the table or what?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just so boring I wanted to fall asleep on the tablecloth. I think some fresh air will wake me up.” Her heels clacked on the pavement as she paced in small circles.

“Yeah, I feel that. You have no idea how much time I spend just waiting out here by myself.”

“At least it’s not stressful.”

Lance shrugged. “It’s fine. I think I’d rather be doing something stressful, but c’est la vie.” “You should’ve been a waiter, then.”

“I tried, but I had no serving experience. So they turned me down and offered this instead.”

She crossed her arms and stepped a little closer. “What experience do you have?”

Lance started listing them with his fingers. “I’m a good driver, good talker—”

“Oh, are you?” “You’re still here, so better than those guys.” With a jerk of his chin, Lance pointed with his lips to the inside of the restaurant.

She looked at her father’s table with the smallest curl lingering at the corner of her lips. She looked back at Lance. “I’m Allura, by the way.”

“I’m Lance.”

“Hello.”

“Hey.”

“You didn’t get very far in listing your skills.”

“Oh, right.” Lance lifted a third finger and continued, “Good kisser...”

She rolled her eyes and raised a hand over her mouth to cover another laugh.

The sound emboldened Lance. “Any chance I could get your number, Allura?”

“Oh, of course.”

His entire face lit up.

She reached into her purse, but did not pull out her phone. In her hand was the valet slip, held between two fingers.

“We’re number twenty five.” She grinned, a little bit playful and a little bit wicked.

Lance’s favorite nights were when Allura came in. If work slowed down, he’d slink over to the window and watch her sip illegal champagne from her flute. Not in, like, a creepy way. There was just something nice about getting to see the finest girl in the world on a somewhat regular basis. This kind of serene, sighing, ‘ahhhhh’ feeling behind his ribs. Not unlike the way it feels to get a nice long look at the ocean on a clear day.

On a good night, Allura would come outside while her dad was still wrapping up conversation at the table or having long, drawn-out goodbyes at the entrance. She’d lean against the car and talk to Lance until it was time to go.

He asked her out once. She said no. He asked her if she was sure the next night. She said yes. But she still liked to come out and talk to him for a few minutes after dinner, so no harm done.

Sometimes she came in without her dad at all, to have some drinks with her friends around the end of Lance’s shift. She’d beckon him inside to join them when closing time was near and her table was the only one still occupied. He had to drive her back home once. Of course, that meant he needed to leave her car there and walk forty minutes back to his own home at midnight. But that was fine. Lance lived on the nice side of town. The side where crime just didn’t happen. Parents could let their children play outside while they cleaned inside. Girls could walk home alone at night. People who tried to start shit mysteriously disappeared. And the victims who got messed with were always paid back for their losses in mysterious ways.

When he was thirteen, someone broke into Lance’s home. After a sweep of the house, his mom’s jewelry box and his dad’s one nice watch were the only things missing. There wasn’t much else worth taking. His parents blamed themselves for thinking they didn’t need better security than a lock on the door. A few days after they filed the police report, his mom got a call directly from the local pawn shop. They had all her missing jewelry and the watch and wanted to return it to her, free of charge. She had to go pick it up directly from the shop. Not the police station.

Anyway, everyone’s tragic stories took place far from the restaurant’s neighborhood. The muggings, the assaults, the missing persons—All of it happened beyond the streets his mother had told him never to cross.

But after a year of working there, something happened.

That one familiar Bentley pulled up to the restaurant in something of a hurry. Lance had never seen Allura’s dad brake hard before. He opened the passenger door for her, as always. He offered his gloved hand to help her step out of the car, then closed it behind her and went around the hood to take the keys from her father.

Alfor gripped Lance’s arm when he passed the keys. “Don’t take any cars you don’t recognize tonight. Tell them we are closed for a private event.”

“Sure. You got it.”

“There’s something for you in the glove compartment. I want you to take it and hold onto it.”

He nodded and tried not to look as puzzled as he felt. Alfor gave him a pat on the back and finally released Lance’s arm. A little frazzled, Lance hopped into the driver’s seat and immediately reached for the glove compartment.

The passenger door flung open and Allura dove into the seat. “Wait!”

She slammed both hands over Lance’s, shoving the compartment shut before he could take a look inside. She kept one hand there while the other scrambled to clumsily shut the door behind her.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” Lance was getting nervous and his voice was rising.

“You don’t need to get involved.” Allura gently pried his fingers away from the glove compartment handle. She shifted to sit sideways so that her body could face him. She clutched his hand in both of hers. “You can walk away. Nothing will happen to you.”

“Walk away from...? What is in there?”

Her eyes were so bright and they gave Lance an intense look that he couldn’t decipher the meaning of at all. “Allura. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“I know. It’s not fair.”

“But I wanna be involved.” God, his palm was probably getting sweaty between her soft hands. “I wanna be your friend. I want to be here when something’s wrong.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“Look, there’s literally nothing that would make me walk away from you right now. Or ever.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nope.”

“Lance, that is…” Allura released his hand. “Just… So unwise.”

“No, it isn’t!”

She scoffed, a helpless little huff of breath through her nostrils.

“What’s in there?” He asked again.

Slowly, Allura reached out and pulled the glove compartment open. It was empty except for a swathe of blue velvet cloth wrapped around something. Lance leaned over and reached across Allura, into the compartment. He unfolded the cloth in his lap, revealing a gorgeous, ornate pistol. The kind known members of the royal family’s paladins were rumored to carry around. The King’s crest was gilded into the handle. It might as well have been a legend to Lance.

part two ==>

[smoaking-greenarrow]

23

Arrow Out of Context Part 3!

Send me a number!

“Actually Oliver has an entire prison on Lian Yu. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.”

Let’s just pretend the prison survived the explosion for fic’s sake… Set in season 7! P.S. please blame Brandon Routh for this one ;)

Read on AO3.

Oliver is having a hard time staying awake, staring at the muted television. The house is quiet, giving him that familiar sense of security, tempting him to close his eyes. William is already in bed, he’d fallen asleep hours ago. But Felicity still isn’t home yet.

It isn’t often that she takes a night off, and it’s always humbling for him when she does. If what she felt while he was in the field is even a fraction of how it feels whenever she’s gone…then he knows he is getting a taste of his own medicine.

This time, the Legends had come for her.

Just after dinner, while he’d been doing the dishes and Felicity had been helping William with his homework, Sara and Ray had shown up on their doorstep, asking for help. Oliver was in the middle of weighing his options when Sara had smirked knowingly, “not from you, Ollie,” she’d quipped.

Apparently they were having a technical issue with the ship, and thought that Felicity was their best bet of getting it fixed so they could be on their way. He just wasn’t sure why it’s taking almost four hours to handle.

Oliver sighs as he glances at the clock again.

He wants to call her. But he knows that after putting her through hell the last few months, he doesn’t have a right to question her. He’s also afraid that she’ll take it as him pushing her, nagging her for being gone too long. Which would be really hypocritical coming from him.

Maybe he could wake William up and have him text Felicity. That’d be innocent enough, right? Felicity would at least respond to a text from her step-son, assure him that she was okay. That’s all he needs.

Although, William is probably Sara Lance’s number one fan. The kid is sleeping soundly tonight, believing that Felicity is in the best possible hands, Sara’s, to keep her safe. Oliver had to try very hard not to be offended by that one.

When he finally hears the sound of a car coming up the drive, Oliver gets to his feet. Just as he makes it to the door and pulls the curtain aside, he sees Felicity, Sara, and Ray getting out of the car. And then he steps out onto the porch, crossing his arms to fight off the cold.

Observing them, it’s clear that Sara played babysitter. Ray gets distracted trying to close the passenger door, not realizing that his seat belt is caught. Oliver lets his eyes wander to Felicity, who steadies herself on Sara’s shoulder as she begins to take off her shoes.

Sara’s eyes meet his, and his eyebrows shoot up. They’re drunk?

With her heels in hand, Felicity huffs, patting Sara on the arm and turning to the house. She notices him on the steps and grins. “Hi, handsome.”

Oliver lifts his jaw, his heart clenching a bit at the easy, loving expression on her face. To say it’d been tough since he came home would be an understatement. But apparently drunk Felicity isn’t so worried about keeping her guard up.

Waving, Oliver looks back at his wife, frowning as she tries to navigate the front steps. Snapping out of his thoughts, he moves quickly, wrapping his arm around her waist and more carrying her up the steps than helping her walk them.

She sighs happily, resting her head on his shoulder. Oliver waits until they’re on the porch, even ground, before he lets her go. She’s still teetering, so he takes her shoes from her hand and keeps her steady. “Why didn’t you call me?” He asks quietly, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. Their friends needing help was one thing. Even getting caught up in the tech of a futuristic ship and forgetting to check in with him was more understandable than this.

This was the last thing he expected.

“I texted you,” Felicity frowns, squeezing his hand.

Oliver pinches his lips together, not wanting to start an argument but… “no, you didn’t.”

Her pout deepens as she reaches into the purse slung over her shoulder, fishing out her phone. The screen lights up her face as she pushes the buttons, then she holds it out to him. “I did. See?”

Oliver cocks his head to the side, “first of all, you didn’t hit send, so I never got that.”

“Oh.”

“And second of all, that text just said ‘we should get a bunny.’”

“We should!” Felicity bounces, stepping closer to him. “I think you could use a little friend to keep you company. Now that it’s just you.”

Oliver’s eyes flicker to Sara and Ray, watching as Sara attempts to help Ray to the house. “It’s not just me,” he mutters to his wife. “I have you.”

“Yeah, but I think you should still have a bunny. I know you don’t really like people.”

He just sighs, kissing her head quickly as he moves to help Sara, “I like you, though. Stay here, please.” He guides her into one of the chairs by the door, then jogs back down the driveway, taking the other side of Ray and hauling him in.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He grumbles to Sara.

“Wasn’t me. These two broke into the liquor cabinet all on their own. I expect this crap from Nate, but Ray’s usually the responsible one.”

Oliver clenches his jaw, not willing to admit the stab of jealousy he feels, knowing Felicity had spent the last couple hours getting drunk with her ex.

They get Ray up the steps and Oliver pushes the door open, glancing at Felicity for a moment. “One second, okay? We’re just going to get Ray on the couch.” She bites her lip and nods. Oliver sighs, glaring at Sara as they maneuver Ray inside. “Why’d you bring him here?”

“Well, it gets a little worse,” Sara mutters back, launching Ray onto the couch with a huff.

Oliver raises an eyebrow, holding up a finger to her before hurrying back out to the porch. “Okay, your turn,” he says to Felicity, “come here, baby.”

Felicity smiles, lifting her arms to him. And Oliver chuckles without complaint, bending down and lifting her into his arms. Their touches have been a little scarce lately, still trying to find their rhythm again after so long apart. But his wife snuggles right into him, “you have a nice ass,” she tells him seriously.

“So do you,” he answers instantly, glancing down at her and smirking. He’s not as familiar with sweet, drunk Felicity as he used to be. And he can’t deny that he likes this side of her.

“I tried the salmon ladder once when no one was around,” she whispers as he kicks the door shut behind them. “I fell on my ass. It hurt.”

Oliver chuckles, wondering why she’d never told him that before. “That night I tried to teach you makes a lot more sense now,” he teased, “you seemed pretty nervous to get up there.”

Felicity raises her eyebrows, playing with the collar of his t-shirt. “I was. But it was the only plan I could think of to get you to touch me.”

His eyes dart down to her as he stops in the hallway. “You don’t ever need a plan, Felicity. I always want you.” He tells her quietly, knowing their friends are in the next room. Felicity’s eyes flutter shut as she sighs, her hand clutching onto his shirt tighter.

“Like now?”

He swallows, waiting for her to open her eyes again before he nods his head in response. His eyes flicker down to her lips, he can smell the alcohol on her and he can’t help but wonder how she’d taste. “Always, Felicity.”

She bites her lip, either finding truth in his words or in his eyes, because he knows the desire he has for her is palpable in both.

“Ollie!” Sara calls from the living room, making Felicity flinch. He hugs her a little tighter, sighing as he carries her into the room. 

Sara’s sitting beside Ray on the couch, an irritated frown on her face and one hand covering his mouth. Oliver stops for a moment, adjusting Felicity. “What the hell–”

“They took a truth serum,” Sara snaps. “Voluntarily. For two geniuses, they’re quite stupid when they drink.” she throws another glare at Ray. “This one can’t stop admitting the crush he had on me when we first met.” Ray begins to speak, his words muffled behind Sara’s hand. She tightens her grip, making him yelp and then stop. “Knock it off before I knock you out,” she seethes.

Pausing to let it sink in, Oliver glances down at his wife. “Is that true?”

Felicity squirms a bit, but then her pupils dilate. “Yes,” she admits.

Oliver closes his eyes, “why on earth would you do that?”

“I’ve been a little confused lately,” Felicity answers softly, and he opens his eyes to look at her again. “I thought it might help me figure out how I really feel.”

“Feel about what?” He asks without thinking, forgetting for a moment that she was under the influence of complete honesty.

“You,” Felicity breathes. “Our marriage.” Oliver nods, staring at her but unsure what to say. He’s too afraid to ask her something he might not want the answer to. And he doesn’t want her to say anything she might not be ready to admit.

“Okay,” Sara huffs. Oliver notices the flush on Felicity’s face, her eyes blown wide and her skin cold. All symptoms of the serum that he wasn’t paying attention to before. “I know that crap can be tricky. You have more experience with it than I do, so I wanted you to take a look at them.”

Oliver nods, walking across the room so he can put Felicity down, unable to meet her eyes. “Why did Ray take it?” He mutters to Sara, hoping the other two can keep their mouths shut until it’s out of their systems. It seems like he and Sara are on the same page in believing that would be best.

“From what I gather, Felicity didn’t want to take it alone. I really don’t have an explanation beyond…drunk idiots.”

Setting his wife down in the chair, Oliver turns to deal with Ray first. He isn’t quite sure how to handle Felicity yet, feeling like there are landmines between them and he needs a moment to decide how to navigate it without blowing everything up. But Felicity catches his hand as he starts to move away. “I love you, Oliver,” she tells him, her voice low.

He glances down at her, then at her hand in his. “I love you, too,” he finally answers, not looking up.

“No,” Felicity stares up at him, “I mean, I love you. I want to be with you. Right here.” She bites her lip, her thumb caressing the back of his hand.

Oliver crouches down so he’s eye-level with her. Looking into her eyes, he knows it’s the truth. Not just because of the serum, not just because of tonight. He’s always been able to feel how much she loves him, even at times when she couldn’t say it. “I understand that you’re afraid, Felicity,” he soothes, trying to keep his voice low to give a semblance of privacy. “I know that you’re afraid to lose me, but I’m not going–”

“I did,” she interrupts, scooting across the chair to get closer. Felicity’s free hand grazes his cheek, watching him in that way that has comforted him for years. “I did lose you. And I don’t ever want to do it again,” Felicity huffs. “I don’t know if I was confused about how I feel, Oliver. Maybe I was just afraid to say it. I’m terrified of losing you. I always have been. But those months we spent apart, they took a toll. It hasn’t been as easy to get back to being us as I thought it would.”

“You won’t lose me,” he promises. If there’s anything he’s certain of, it’s that he’s never going to let anyone or anything stand between him and his family ever again. He’ll always choose them. No matter the circumstance, no matter the outcome, no matter the decision.

“I want to be your wife and William’s step-mom and…this is the life I want. I want it, Oliver. I want it very, very bad.”

He smiles, “I’m glad, Felicity. Because I love you very, very much. And I don’t ever plan on letting you go again.”

When Felicity whimpers, her eyes dropping down to his lips, Oliver forgets all about their company behind them. He lifts himself up, leaning into his wife and kissing her.

“Felicity,” Ray’s voice cuts in, making Oliver stiffen. “I need you to know that if it doesn’t work out with Oliver, I’m still here if you ever want to try again.”

“What?” Oliver, Felicity, and Sara wail in unison. While Oliver and Felicity stare at him in shock, Sara groans. “Oh, Ray, you didn’t.”

“I was just saying!” He flinches, “and I fully realize that that was a thought I would have kept in my head if it weren’t for this truth juice stuff.”

“Ollie,” Sara shakes her head, “can you just tell me that they’re both fine so that I can take Ray back to the ship…and then kick his ass out in the Mesozoic Era?”

Ray’s face drops, “not the dinosaurs again.” His eyes dart to Oliver, who is stiff with tension, his eyes furious and focused on Ray. “Oh no,” he groans, “please don’t shoot me with arrows, or get me sent to Slabside.”

Like the sweet, non-confrontational woman that she is, Felicity forces a tense laugh, squirming to her feet. She stands beside her husband, running her hands over his arm, holding it between hers and kissing his shoulder. “You wouldn’t go to maximum security,” Felicity tries to joke. “Actually, Oliver has an entire prison on Lian Yu.” Then her eyes go wide, “maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.” She looks up at him, “I probably shouldn’t have told them that. Sorry, honey.” Felicity wrinkles her nose.

Oliver releases a deep breath, letting his adorable wife calm him down. “It’s fine, Felicity.” He smiles at her. Then he turns and levels Ray with a hard glare, “Ray should know where he’ll end up if he ever tries to make a move on you again.”

“Oh,” Felicity yelps, biting her lips together. Oliver glances at her quickly, but forces his eyes back to Ray, enjoying the way the man is squirming a little bit. He deserves it. Truth serum or not…none of them could un-hear him tell Felicity he’d be waiting in the wings if her marriage fails. He probably deserves a lot more than a threat.

Felicity’s fingers tighten on his arm, and he finally looks down at her. Her eyes are wide, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, and she’s looking at him like she’s really trying not to say what she wants to say. He actually think her eyes are a little watery. “What is it?” He asks, honing in on her. “What’s wrong?”

His shoulders stiffen for a moment, wondering if he’d pissed her off by threatening Ray.

She groans, yanking on his collar to pull him down. Felicity moves to whisper in his ear, her lips resting just outside, making him shiver as her breath runs over him. “It really turns me on when you’re jealous,” she sighs like the words are a breath of relief.

He pulls back quickly, feeling something stirring that isn’t meant for a moment like this…but his eyes meet Felicity’s and he has to stop himself from kissing her. She bites her lip, staring at him as if she’s completely forgotten that they’re not alone.

“Oh-kay,” Sara clears her throat, “they’re fine, right? We can go?”

Oliver sighs, forcing his eyes away from his wife. “Just make sure he drinks plenty of water, it’ll flush it out faster.”

Nodding, Sara stands from the couch, dragging Ray along with her. “Bye, Felicity,” Ray grins like a fool, stepping towards her like he’s going in for a hug. Oliver pins him with a murderous glare that makes him hesitate, but it’s Sara who smacks him upside the head. “Yeah, no, not this time, pal. Let’s go.”

She shoves him towards the door, then turns to wave. “Thanks for your help, Felicity. Love you both, bye!”

“You’re welcome,” Felicity smiles, waving back as they head for the door. “See you guys soon.”

“Soon,” Sara smirks, offering a wink that’s just so Sara, it makes him relax a little.

Felicity turns to him as soon as the door shuts behind them. She rises onto her toes as she wraps her arms around his neck. Leaning in, she kisses a trail up his throat, pausing at his jaw. “Oliver,” she mutters, her voice low and sexy. “You know I’d never leave you for Ray, right?”

“Mmm,” he hums, tilting his chin down to kiss her. “I believe you.”

“Good,” she purrs back. “Ask me what I want to do right now.”

Closing his eyes, Oliver smiles and rests his forehead against Felicity’s. “I don’t think I need to ask,” he mumbles before scooping her up again. Oliver kisses her slowly, moving with grace as he carries her down the hall and up the stairs.