Just In Case (Olicity, 5x23 spec)
They’d been here too many times before.
She wanted to say that. She wanted to scream it from the treetops so everyone would hear how frakking ridiculous it was that just when they were on the cusp of having everything, something swooped in and turned the entire world upside down. Really, you think she’d be used to it, should even expect it. But it always surprised her, every single time.
This time was no different.
Felicity stared up at him.
The words were on the tip of her tongue, everything she’d kept at bay since last summer - everything buried under fear and anger and hurt and regret - but she didn’t say any of it. Now was so not the time, and at the end of the day, the words weren’t necessary. She didn’t have to say any of it, not anymore. They both knew. They always had. So instead she gripped his suit, so tight her fingers hurt, pouring every ounce of love she felt for his man into these few precious seconds.
He did the same, and the love and gratitude and openness staring back at her took her breath away.
The conversation they held with their eyes lasted all of a second, but it also felt like it encompassed an eternity.
Felicity nodded, her lips twitching in a small smile. It was reassuring, confident, strong, as much for him as it was for her. He returned it, but his had an edge of sadness hooked to it. She understood exactly what it meant - it wasn’t sadness fueled by regret, but sadness that they were back here, again, always.
Well, she thought, that just meant that when they got out of this, she was going to tell him to absolute hell with taking things one step at a time. She wanted him, she always had, and the wall that had been between them since the very beginning - the very, very beginning, since always - was finally crumbling and she was ready to kick it down the rest of the way so there was nothing left but them. She was going to ask him to dinner, or have him over, ask him if he wanted to cook, but maybe not because she hadn’t done anything food-related in the loft kitchen since he left. Everything was dusty and unused, almost like it was all waiting for him. Sort of like her, she mused to herself, waiting for her to come back to herself, to him, to each other. So yes, definitely dinner, but maybe going out for dinner, like their first attempt at a date, only this time…
Oliver’s lips twitched up again, this time with something softer - with pure, radiant love - like he could read her thoughts. With a reverent, “Felicity,” he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He barely left Felicity a second to react, for her lips to form a startled, ‘Oh,’ before he wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her up against his chest, his lips slanting over hers.
It was their first kiss in months, but it felt more like years. Decades. So much had changed and evolved and shifted over the last year and all of it was summed up in this one single moment, of them finally coming home to each other.
Just like their silent conversation, the kiss was short, but the weight of it made it feel longer, and Felicity knew it would resonate inside her for the rest of their lives.
When they pulled apart, Felicity was a little breathless as she asked, “What was that for?”
Oliver licked his lips, brushing his forehead against hers before he set her down, stepping back.
“Just in case,” he whispered, his fingers interlacing with hers.
It wasn’t sad, or tragic, or filled with any fear that they might not find each other again.
The kiss was a symbol of a simple fact: he loved her.
Felicity pulled him back to her, grasping his hand tightly as her other came up to cup his cheek, to pull him down for one more kiss.
This was one was quicker, but it was just as powerful.
Oliver’s eyes were closed when they pulled apart, his brow furrowed in question, and when they fluttered open, finding hers, Felicity smiled.
“Just in case,” she said.
I love you, too.