Archive of Our Own ^beta

"She's not doing it."

Diggle grinds the words out between gritted teeth and Oliver blinks. His gaze shifts to Felicity and he blinks again and on anyone else, his expression would be one of blank neutrality. Accustomed as she is to the various minuscule shifts in expression of Oliver Queen, Felicity knows that anyone else would be looking very confused right about now.

Oliver looks back at Diggle, tries again. "She's done it before," he points out, completely reasonably, since Felicity's gone undercover on their behalf more than once. "You and I will be on comms with her, we'll be on site if-"

"Too far away to help if things go south."

Diggle's still not sounding like he's in a mood to be turned and Felicity takes a step towards him. "Felicity can take care of herself," Oliver reminds him. "You've been training her-"

"Not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

Frustration is beginning to make itself known in Oliver's voice and Felicity steps between the two men, puts one hand on Diggle's crossed arms, just about managing not to wince at how tense he feels. She meets his eyes, just for a second, narrows hers in a warning not to say another word. He doesn't, but the flare of his nostrils speaks volumes.

Turning to Oliver, Felicity forces a smile to her face. "Can you give us a minute? Please?"

Oliver's jaw tightens but he doesn't argue with her. "I'll give you more than that." He heads for the door. "Call me when you make a decision."

Felicity watches him go, waits until the door closes behind him and then for a few seconds longer to be sure that the coast is clear. Not that she thinks it wouldn't be - Oliver's not the type to stand and eavesdrop, well, not on a personal conversation of this ilk anyway.

She hopes.

Putting that thought out of her mind, she looks up at Diggle, shakes her head. "You promised."

He looks up to heaven, heaves a sigh that appears to come from the depths of his soul. "I know." He uncrosses his arms and his hands land on her shoulders, squeeze gently. "And I've been trying. But what he's asking..."

"Is nothing I haven't done before." Her hands go to his chest, one resting directly over his heart. It's beating a little more quickly than usual and she knows why.

"That was then." He looks down then, his eyes landing directly on her stomach and, as if pulled by a magnet, one hand slides down her body and rests there. In the last week, that's become an all too familiar sensation and it never fails to make Felicity's heart swell with a heady mixture of love and anticipation. "If something went wrong, if we couldn't get there in time..."

"Nothing will." Except, even as she says he words, she knows she's lying, to him and herself. They can't guarantee that, to even think they could is foolish. And sure, she can protect herself, and she trusts Oliver and Diggle to protect her too.

But it's not just about her anymore.

"Felicity, you know I trust you. You know I think you're one of the most capable women on the entire planet. I have never asked you not to do something, and I always said I never would; you know that." Diggle took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "But I'm asking you now. Please. Let us find another way to do this." His eyes are dark and troubled and completely sincere, but there's something else there too, a look that she usually only sees when he wakes up from a dream about his brother.

It's that, more than anything, that makes her nod. "Then we'll find another way," she says and his shoulders slump in relief.

"Thank you," he says as he pulls her into a hug. She goes willingly, buries her face in his chest as she feels him press a kiss to the top of her head.

Still though, it wouldn't do to let him away too easy. "Don't think you can wrap me in cotton wool for the next eight months," she warns and under her cheek his chest rumbles with suppressed laughter.

"I can try," he tells her and even though she knows she should protest, when he tightens his grip on her, somehow, the prospect doesn't seem so bad.