Chapter Text
“You so do not need to do this. “
“Felicity, we talked about this.”
“Yes, I talked and you listened and then you steam-rollered me with a couple of words.”
“Okay, if you can convince me that you don't want to spend the evening with your old friends whom you haven't seen for years...”
Felicity sighed. Oliver was standing on Felicity's mother's porch again, this time in a suit. He corrected his tie, and stepped closer to the door. Felicity had snuck back into the house early in the morning and spent the whole day in her mother's company trying to concentrate on what she said. It was really hard, almost like trying to hear footsteps a mile away in the hum of traffic. She was so used to tuning out her mother, that her head had started to ache from the effort around lunch time. And she had heard nothing of interest to their case for her trouble.
“Maybe she'll talk more about Hart to me,” Oliver laid a hand on Felicity's shoulder. “And it shouldn't be a problem to follow her train of thought. I always listen to you, and understand most of it.”
“You have no idea, what you are getting into. It's not the content but the quantity.” Felicity didn't answer his smile.
The door opened and Felicity's mother stepped out of the door. She was dressed in a glittery black dress and dangerously high heels. Her face was made up and her hair spread in a halo around her head.
“Oliver, you're here already, good. Why did you keep him out here on the porch, honey? It feels like you are sneaking around for some reason. But you have no reason to sneak around, right?” she didn't wait for a reply. “It is so strange that your business associates hadn't arranged a tour of the casinos for you or anything for the evening, Oliver. But we are more than happy to take you out.”
“Mrs. Johnson...” Oliver started.
“Oh, honey, call me Barbie, everyone does. Except Meghan of course, who insists on calling me mother, publicly. Which is ridiculous of course. And Dwayne, who likes to call me Barbara. I really don't mind, but I've been called Barbie my whole life, so it really seems a bit strange sometimes. Ah, his car is here. Unfortunately he has to meet some people, so we'll be having dinner together, but he won't join us for the casinos then later. I really don't understand Meghan, what is so important in these old friends of yours that you can't give up your evening to spend it with your friend and me. I know you can't come to the casinos but at least dinner...” Barbie descended from the porch and headed towards a limousine that seemed altogether too long for the whole block.
“She called you honey. Now you are in for it,” Felicity muttered. “But I kind of agree with her. You should not have to suffer this. She's my cross to bear.”
“Why did she say that you can't come to the casinos?” Oliver wondered.
Felicity looked away. She picked up her purse from the bench and followed her mother down the stairs.
“That's what you picked up from that? Didn't you hear her saying Hart is meeting some people tonight. Wow, if that's how it's going to be, I really should cancel...”
“It's going to be fine, Felicity.”
They followed Barbie to the car.
“Dwayne is going to meet us at the restaurant,” Barbie announced as soon as they got in. “He's such a sweetheart.”
Felicity, who sat next to her mother, rolled her eyes.
“We're going to drop off Meghan first,” Barbie clarified, as they stopped after a few blocks. She had been silent for an exceptionally long time, applying more lipstick and staring at a small mirror with several different pouty faces. “Of course, she could have walked, since it's so near, but you know how it is with women and our shoes...”
Oliver got quickly out of the car to hold the door open to Felicity. He was about to say something when he heard a small voice call out behind him.
“Fifiii!” A little girl, about three years old, was running down from the house in front of which they were parked. She was dressed in blue pajamas and her feet were bare. Yellow curls of hair stuck out in every direction. She wrapped her arms around one of Felicity's legs before she could grab hold of her.
“Molly dear, let go of Auntie Fe's leg so she can come inside,” said a stern female voice. A smiling woman was standing on the withered lawn and looking Oliver up and down very attentively.
“Oliver, this is my friend Anna, and her daughter Molly,” Felicity introduced, she then ducked down to the little girl and lifted her to her arms. “Molly, this is Oliver. Can you say Oliver?”
“O-ver,” Molly repeated.
“Not quite,” Felicity grinned. “But you'll get there. Oliver here has to go now.”
Oliver ignored Felicity and stepped up to Anna, extending his hand. He brought out his most charming smile. Felicity nudged him in the ribs as she squeezed between Oliver and her friend, pushing Molly into Anna's arms and turned to push Oliver towards the car.
“You look like you are about to start snooping in the wrong place,” she hissed. “Concentrate on my mother.”
“Have fun, Fifi,” Oliver snorted before disappearing into the car with a huge grin on his face.
* * *
Felicity sighed when she watched the car slide around the corner. She knew that the best solution wasn't having Oliver spend the evening with her mother, who would blab everything, but then again, she was not sure about what solution she was talking about. There was nothing so very embarrassing in her past.
“Do you always make such puppy dog eyes at each other?” Anna asked as they entered the house. Molly had ran ahead to gather her fort of plushy toys for Felicity's inspection.
“Excuse me?” Felicity sputtered. “We do not! I don't... He is my boss! I mean he was my boss and now he's my...” she stopped abruptly, since she couldn't possibly explain how exactly Oliver was her partner. Anna would get an entirely wrong idea about that.
“Whatever you say,” Anna laughed. “Molly wants you to read her a bedtime story. I'll be waiting for you here with a glass of red wine and compiling a list of questions.”
Felicity certainly looked forward to the wine, but not the questions. She almost dozed off in the middle of Molly's toys as they neared the end of the story, but dragged herself from the bed when she noticed that Molly was already asleep.
“Poor baby,” Anna said from the door. “She was looking forward to your coming tonight so much that she exhausted herself in fussing about it.”
“I know, I know. I should visit more often,” Felicity whispered tiptoeing out of the room.
“I wondered if you had actually fallen asleep or if you just wanted to avoid my questions.”
“Why would I want to do that?” Felicity said innocently as she sunk into an armchair in the living room.
Of all her friends' houses, she loved this the most. Anna had lived there with her mother until she passed away and then a few years ago with Molly's father, who had moved on, and now Molly was living in the room Anna had grown up, and Anna in her mother's room.
Felicity could never imagine anyone else living in that house. It looked the same as the other houses on the block, but it was filled with books. Anna, and her mother both loved flowery things, so every bit of wall that wasn't bookshelves, had some kind of flower print on it. The kitchen had yellow roses on a white background, the foyer had turquoise flowers on grey. The living room was patched with different kinds of flowery wallpaper in between the bookshelves.
The rooms were as familiar as the books on the shelves. There were a couple of shelves with new books on them, but Felicity could pick out the rest in her sleep. She knew exactly where to find the Russian and French classics, the historical romances that they had giggled over as teenagers, the English classics were lined on a few shelves, and the American ones on another. And by shelves, she meant walls. Felicity had always loved the corner where all the non-fiction books were crammed. There was an old Atlas from the sixties and Gray's Anatomy, books on phonetics and computer science from the early years, books about trees and compilation books of random facts.
She breathed in the familiar smell of books and took the wine glass Anna offered her.
“So, why did your boss follow you to this hell hole? And more importantly, why on earth is he spending the evening with your mother of all the people?”
Felicity realized she had never properly appreciated Oliver's fortitude in keeping the Arrow from the people closest to him. She had been aware of it, but since all her closest friends lived elsewhere, she didn't have to experience it herself. Until now.
“He's really just...” What could she say? Being nice? That would sound awfully dumb. And not to underestimate the people around Oliver, but Anna was one perceptive woman. Felicity wished the rest of the gang would arrive sooner than later.
At that moment there was the sound of a car door slamming and the voices of two women and a man, who kept talking all the way to the door.
“Okay, you're off the hook for a little while, but we are not done talking about this.”