Oliver woke slowly, not jerked to sudden awareness by a nightmare or an alarm going off. He wondered if this was how normal people with normal lives woke up on the weekends. He envied them that, that slow, gentle arrival of wakefulness. Felicity stirred, rolling over to face him. She looked ethereal, the morning light turning her hair into spun gold.

"You look so beautiful in the morning," Oliver murmured, brushing a thumb along the line of her cheekbone. His hand dropped from her face to her shoulder, and slid down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His fingers ghosted along the edge of the bandage around her upper arm.

"Oliver, I'm fine," Felicity mumbled, half heartedly shoving his hand away. It was clear that she wasn't completely awake yet.

"He shot you," Oliver said, his voice a low rumble in his ribcage. It held an undercurrent of the anger that had been simmering in him since that night.

"He grazed me," Felicity corrected, "and it was technically my fault. I got in his way."

"Felicity," Oliver said, admonishment in his tone. "You are not responsible for his actions. He could have stopped shooting when you stepped in front of him. He didn't. That's on him." Felicity propped herself up on her elbow to look him in the eyes, her hair brushing his bare skin.

"Can we talk about this later?" she asked. "Please? It's the weekend. Right now all I want is to pretend that we're two normal people enjoying a day off, even if it's just for a few hours. Okay?"

"Okay," Oliver conceded. It was hard for him to refuse her anything, but especially not this. Not when he wanted it too. He wanted so badly to forget about everything that had happened in the past days, if only for a little while.

Felicity settled back down, pillowing her head on Oliver's shoulder. They were both silent for a long while, settling deep into the warm, contented feeling of each other's presence. Traffic sounds filtered into the room through the slightly open window, faint enough to serve as gentle accompaniment to the morning. They heard sounds of movement in the kitchen, but ignored them. They weren't important right now.

"When was the last time we spent a morning like this?" Oliver asked as early morning became late morning, the sunlight taking on an amber colored, honey like quality.

"Ivy Town," Felicity responded immediately, without having to think about it. "That's the one thing I miss about it, actually- every morning was like this. It was the rule, not the exception." Oliver hummed agreement.

"A shame we were never really suited to idle lives," Felicity muttered. Oliver didn't respond. No response was needed for something so obviously true.

Morning turned into afternoon. Eventually, Felicity went and retrieved her tablet before returning to bed. She had a lot of work to do. With Curtis out of the picture, she had to start over from the ground up. Oliver sat behind her, his arms curled loosely around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. He understood less than half of what she was doing, but he enjoyed watching her work, watching her mind move at its lightning quick speed. It was something he'd heard happening over the comms a million times, but so rarely got to see in person.

"You never needed Curtis, you know," he said quietly.

"I know I didn't need him," Felicity replied without taking her eyes off her work, her tone distracted. "I wanted to do this with him because I enjoyed working with him. Because he was my friend." Her use of past tense wasn't lost on Oliver. He felt a familiar stirring of anger at what Curtis had done. At what all three of them had done.

"Oliver," Felicity said, a warning in her tone, almost as if she could sense where his thoughts were going.

"Right," he said. "We're not thinking about that right now. We're being normal."

"Mmhmm," Felicity agreed absently. After that, the conversation died out, and they passed the time in comfortable, companionable silence. They heard footsteps pass in front of their door, but, as with the noises in the kitchen earlier, they ignored them. Oliver shifted slightly, trying to ignore the thought tugging at his mind, begging to be spoken. He was trying not to ruin the mood by talking about recent events.

"Spit it out Oliver," Felicity said. Oliver cocked his head to the side, surprised at her words. He hadn't realized he'd been broadcasting his disquiet so clearly.

"What?" he asked, eyebrows creasing.

"You've clearly got something on your mind," Felicity said. "So"- she made a circular gesture with one hand- "spit it out."

"I didn't think it was that obvious," Oliver admitted.

"It's not," Felicity replied, "but I know you. So what is it?"

"I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry things with Curtis went so spectacularly south," Oliver said, deliberately not mentioning that the blame for that rested entirely on Curtis himself, "but if there's anyone who can come back from this, it's you. You're the most incredible person I know. You can do anything you set your mind to." Felicity turned her head toward him for a moment, a blush coloring her cheeks.

"Thank you," she mumbled, holding his gaze with hers. Their faces were inches apart, and Oliver didn't hesitate to close the gap, relishing the way it made Felicity smile when they pulled apart again. He would never get tired of seeing that smile. Felicity went back to her work and he went back to watching her at it.

My wife is going to change the world, he realized with awe. A warm glow of happiness suffused him at the thought. And I'm going to be right there to witness it.