Coffee, Coffee, Coffee
Synopsis: Whoever said too much coffee was a bad thing was probably right. Or: That time Felicity drank too much coffee and nearly overdosed.
Pairing: Oliver & Felicity
Characters: Oliver, Felicity, Diggle
Category: Fluff, Humor
Disclaimer: (the usual, don't own, idea was mine though)
The first cup always tasted the best. It had the richest flavor, the most robust aroma, and hit the spot the second it passed between her lips and splashed down her throat.
"Mmm…" That was the tiny noise she'd make as she sat down at her desk and pursed her lips to make sure her lipstick hadn't rubbed off unevenly.
Oliver always brought her the best coffee in the morning, and she appreciated him for that. It always made her feel better knowing she was valued by her boss for all the work she put into not only the company, but their missions as well. Who knew all it would take was a good cup of coffee in the morning delivered by her gorgeous partner in crime?
Felicity set off to work, putting together reports and files for his various meetings throughout the day and answering the phone whenever it rang. As much as she hated the tedious stuff, she knew once it was over, she'd get to do what she did best: hack.
It was never as satisfying as the first cup, this second mug full of the office "sludge" as she'd begun to refer to it. But the caffeine was needed on days like today, when her perfectly scheduled meetings for Oliver had turned into one gigantic mess when none other than the one person he reviled most, the person that struck fear into his heart and made him tense for the rest of the day in that way she knew meant he'd be taking it out on poor Roy that night, walked, no, sauntered, through her door with exuberance and a charming smile.
For a moment, Felicity had been taken by his grace and charm, but the moment she'd heard Oliver's rushed footsteps nearly pounding on the marble floor towards her, she finally realized who it was standing there. Her heart stopped and whatever she'd been saying to the charming man in front of her died in her throat.
She watched the tense standoff between the two men. Oliver stood with his eyes ablaze, hands clenched into fists as his side as he stared at the man who'd walked into their office. "Ray," he practically growled.
"Oliver," the other man replied, not a single hint of malice in his voice. Instead, it dripped with sarcasm, making Felicity roll her eyes.
'Men,' she thought, feeling the testosterone in the room skyrocket. Why did they always feel the need to display their prowess when she was in the room?
She was definitely going to need another cup of coffee if she was going to have to deal with this crap today.
Her third cup of coffee had immediately followed her second, another mug of office sludge she guzzled down as Oliver and Ray Palmer (she'd overheard Oliver refer to him as Mr. Palmer just before the door to his office shut) continued their tense meeting behind the glass walls of his office.
It wasn't often that Oliver got riled up. The last time it had happened was when Slade came to town and caused chaos. If Ray Palmer was anything like him, she needed to get started on her research. Yet all she could find when she entered his name into her searches was nothing but good things. He was a billionaire, much like Oliver, and used his status to do charitable things (again, just like Oliver).
There wasn't much else she could dig up on him aside from his interest in Queen Consolidated being a priority. Just so long as he didn't turn into another Isabel Rochev in disguise, Felicity was all for it. His investment in the company could provide Oliver with the cash he needed to finance the Arrow and keep his family's business afloat.
Either way, she managed to drain her mug without realizing it.
Looking at the clock, there was still another hour to go before lunch, and what Felicity needed was another cup of coffee that wasn't the "sludge" at the bottom of the communal office pot. No, this time she sent Diggle downstairs to the coffee shop across the street, promising him fresh baked muffins on Saturday with extra blueberries just the way he liked. He'd smiled and headed to the elevator.
In twenty minutes, he'd returned with three cups of coffee: one for her, one for Oliver, and one for himself. Diggle's timing couldn't have been more perfect. Oliver's meeting with Ray Palmer had just ended. Oliver remained rigid as a board, a deep scowl present on his face, as Mr. Palmer stepped out of his office, a charming smile plastered to his lips. He tipped his head to Felicity just before walking through the glass door and toward the bank of elevators.
"How'd it go?" Felicity hesitantly asked as she handed him his coffee.
"He's taking over next week," Oliver growled, "and I'll probably be out of a job."
"What?!" she squeaked.
"The board approved a takeover. Palmer has complete control of my company," he ground out.
Felicity chugged her coffee.
Three more cups of coffee had sustained Felicity up until it was time to head to the lair. By then, she had a bad case of the jitters and was slightly anxious, something she chalked up to the bombshell Oliver dropped on her after his meeting with Ray Palmer.
Losing the company to the evil Isabel Rochev had been one thing, but losing it to an unknown player like Ray Palmer was something completely different. He seemed like a genuine guy, and on paper he most certainly was, but Felicity felt like he was hiding something; something she couldn't dig up on the internet. It prompted her to continue searching long after the boys had gone out on their nightly patrol.
When Oliver had to shout in her ear over the comm to get her attention, she nearly jumped out of her seat before letting out a deep gasp.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice taking on that concerned timbre like the day she told him about his mother's gigantic secret.
"Fine! Fine!" Felicity sputtered, taking a sip of her eighth cup of coffee in hopes of calming her nerves. It only served to rile her up even more, to the point where her hands shook so bad she couldn't type. So she stood up and paced in front of her desk, trying to figure out what to do next.
Her mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts that seemed to jump from topic to topic without so much as a warning. They'd gone from Mr. Palmer to Oliver, Oliver to the Arrow, the Arrow to injuries, then injuries to death, and all of a sudden Felicity felt like she was getting light headed.
Taking a seat in her chair once more, she put her hand over her heart and felt it race beneath her palm. "Breathe, Smoak. Just breathe," she muttered under her breath as she slid off her glasses and scrubbed her face with her hands.
But her heart wouldn't stop racing, so she parted her legs and put her head between her knees just like she remembered her mother would do when she had an anxiety attack. Oliver found her that way ten minutes later after he returned from his patrol. When his hand landed on her back after he'd changed out of his leathers, Felicity shot up from her chair screaming.
"Whoa, hey... it's just me," he said in that calm tone, immediately easing her still racing mind and heart. "Are you okay?"
" I'm... I'm fine," Felicity quickly replied, her voice trembling.
"Are you sure? Because you look a little pale," Oliver said as he kneeled down in front of her. His intense azure eyes scanned her over, settling on her shaking hands. They flicked over to her desk for a moment before finding her empty mug. "Felicity, how much coffee have you had to drink today?"
"Uh, I dunno..." she answered, racking her brain for a number. "Eight large cups maybe."
"Shit," he muttered, immediately standing. "You drank an entire pot of coffee, by yourself? That's..." Oliver paused for a moment, rattling off numbers then said, "That's over two grams of caffeine!"
"So?" Felicity shot back.
"So!" Oliver retorted. "That much caffeine in a day can be considered an overdose!"
"Oliver, I'm fine!" she tried to argue, but soon a wave of dizziness and nausea hit her. Felicity would have crumpled to the floor had it not been for Oliver's quick reflexes and strong arms. He caught her just before she hit the ground and instantly hoisted her into his chest.
"You are not fine," he said. "I'm taking you home and I'm staying until all that caffeine is out of your system." Oliver's voice left no room for argument and soon Felicity found herself being carried up the stairs to her car. "Keys?"
Felicity begrudgingly fished them out of her pocket and unlocked the door. Oliver then gently eased her into the passenger's seat before making his way to the other side. They drove to her townhouse in silence, something she was glad for since a massive headache quickly began to brew behind her eyes. After pulling into her driveway, she once again found herself nestled into his arms.
"Where are your pajamas?" Oliver asked once he'd brought her to her room and carefully set her down on her bed.
"I can get them myself," Felicity defiantly replied as she began to stand up, but her legs were too shaky and even the slightest jerk in any direction made her head spin and her stomach lurch. She ended up sitting back down as Oliver smirked at her. "Top drawer of the dresser," she conceded.
He found her favorite pair of blue fleece pants and a white tank top with relative ease then handed them to her. "Underwear?"
"Uh, no! You are not going through my unmentionables, Oliver Queen! It's bad enough you've already seen me in my bra. I'd rather go commando than have you rifling through my underwear drawer," Felicity rambled until her brain caught up with her mouth. Palm hitting her forehead, she added, "Just forget I said all that."
He did as she asked. "Need help changing?" was his next question, one she didn't appreciate since it was said with a large grin plastered to his face.
"Get out, Oliver!" Felicity growled. "You're not seeing me in my underwear tonight! Or ever, for that matter, if you keep up that playboy act."
"Wait, are you saying that…"
"Don't finish that thought, Oliver," she warned, her eyes narrowing at him. "Just get out and if I need anything, I'll let you know."
Reluctantly, he left the room so she could change. The process went slower than she would have liked, but after five minutes, Felicity was dressed in her pajamas and began crawling under her comforter just as Oliver knocked on her door.
"Are you decent?" he called from the hallway.
"Yeah. You can come in now," she answered.
The door opened and Oliver stepped inside holding a steaming mug in his hand. He took a seat beside her on the bed and handed it to her.
"What's this?" Felicity eyed it critically before taking a sniff. It smelled like tea, but with a bitter hint to it.
"Herbs from the island mixed with a little lemon and honey so they don't taste as bad," Oliver said. "It should help get the caffeine out of your system faster."
Shrugging, she replied, "Here goes nothing." After one swig, Felicity cringed at the taste and handed the mug back to him. "Yuck! It tastes like a dirty old gym sock."
"Be glad I'm not making you chew them."
Felicity shuddered at the thought and did her best not to cringe when she took another sip. The drink still tasted disgusting, so with a muttered "screw it", she downed the contents then shuddered and handed the mug to her partner. "I'll remember that the next time I order a large coffee," she said, sliding herself back under her comforter.
Without being prompted to, Oliver tucked her in, his hand brushing errant locks of blonde hair away from her face as a warm smile crept onto his lips. "Get some sleep. If you need anything, I'll be in the living room," he said.
Felicity smiled back and replied, "Good night, Oliver."
"Good night, Felicity."
Sleep didn't come, though. Being so high on caffeine made Felicity restless. She was plagued by insomnia that night, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position but always failing. Grabbing her tablet, she began doing some research into caffeine overdoses and wasn't surprised to see all her symptoms lined up with those listed on WebMD. An hour later, and she was out of bed, tiptoeing into the living room to find Oliver quietly watching TV on her couch. Even if she was being as light-footed as possible, he still heard her approach and turned to give her a warm smile.
"Can't sleep?" he asked.
Felicity rolled her eyes then joined him on the couch. He was watching some car racing program that looked suspiciously like Top Gear, but wasn't.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you too much coffee could be a bad thing?" Oliver joked. She punched him in the shoulder. "Ow!" He feigned the hurt as he rubbed the spot she hit, the smile on his face being a dead giveaway.
"Aren't I the one usually telling you not to do stupid things?" Felicity retorted as she burrowed her feet beneath the couch cushions.
"Usually," Oliver replied. "I won't lie, though. I kinda like being on the other end of these conversations for once."
"Oliver," she said in that firm tone that made him glance over at her.
"Shut up and watch TV."
He simply grinned at her before reaching over to grab her hand and pull her towards him, a gesture that confused and excited her. It wasn't often that Oliver showed affection, but lately, he'd been doing it more and more with little touches on her shoulder or the small of her back, his hand brushing against hers as they walked, and hugs. God, she loved his hugs. When those strong arms enveloped her tiny frame, she felt warm and safe.
And from the looks of it, that was exactly what he was about to do now. When Felicity relented and allowed him to pull her closer, she expected him to tuck her beneath his arm, not to end up sprawled out across his lap. But that's where she ended up, with Oliver's arms wrapped securely around her and his chin resting on top of her head. She could feel her heart begin to race again, only this time it had nothing to do with the amount of coffee she'd had to drink.
"Oliver, what are you doing?" she asked, her entire body going stiff.
Sighing deeply, he replied, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"You could have just asked," Felicity said, but made no attempt to move out of Oliver's grasp. Instead, her body relaxed when he readjusted his arms so she was in a more comfortable position.
"Are you okay?"
"Well, I no longer have a headache and my stomach doesn't feel like turning inside out, so I guess I'm doing better. Whatever's in those special herbs of yours definitely did the trick."
His fingers stroked along her neck sending shivers down Felicity's spine until they pressed against her pulse point. "Your heart rate is still slightly elevated, but I'm pretty sure you're over the worst of it," Oliver said.
"Thanks, doctor," she quipped as her eyebrow quirked up at him.
He smiled down at her, his hand moving to cup her jaw so that his thumb could stroke her cheek. The shivers returned. Felicity felt the charge in the air. The longer Oliver stared down at her with that soft gaze, the more she wished he'd say something. Her heart was beginning to race again as her breathing became shallow. Unconsciously, her tongue darted out of her mouth to moisten her lips and his eyes immediately followed the movement.
"I've always wanted to play doctor with you," Oliver whispered in that tone that set her body on fire as he dipped his head closer to hers.
Even though she knew it was meant to be a play on that now-infamous line her brain had come up with the previous year right before the fall of the Glades, Felicity realized there was far more behind his comment than he cared to admit. And that made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy. When his thumb traced the outline of her bottom lip, she was done for. She tilted her head up and closed the gap between them.
The kiss started out slow, mouths exploring, arms wrapping around each other. Then Oliver's hand became tangled in her hair, tilting her head up. He sucked on her lower lip before his tongue brushed over it, silently asking for permission to go further. Felicity granted it by parting her lips, giving him full access. Nothing had ever felt more tantalizing, more erotic than the way his tongue roamed her mouth. He took his time exploring every crevice, finding every little spot that made her sigh and moan.
In tandem with his hands, which were slowly trekking southward down her back until they reached the hem of her shirt, Oliver managed to lay her across the couch cushions, his body nestled over hers like a big, warm blanket. Felicity mewled when his hands dipped beneath the soft cotton fabric of her tank top, pulling it up slowly to reveal inch upon delicate inch of flesh. When they wandered up her sides, she arched her back, her stomach firmly pressing against the rock hard muscles of his abdomen.
Her lungs began to burn for air, forcing Felicity to trail her hands down his shoulders until they pressed against his chest, pushing Oliver away. Reluctantly, he let go, but hovered above her as she sucked in deep, panting breaths. "Wow," she sighed, and when she looked up, he was smiling down at her, his eyes soft, his expression warm and almost boyish. "Maybe I should overdose on coffee more often," Felicity quipped.
Oliver just chuckled before leaning back in to capture her lips once more.