Technical Assistance

Chapter 26: Aesthetic Repair

Still in her pajamas at noon, Felicity feels very decadent, considering it's a Friday. Because she thought it was the best option, she called in sick at work, then nestled herself back in bed for a few more hours' sleep. Refusing to sleep any later than noon and waste her rare day off, she decides to get up and finish Oliver's laptop, the one still sitting in pieces on her desk.

Barry is already up and dressed by this point, and she takes a few hesitant steps forward when she sees him in the kitchen. That's never a good idea; Barry's cooking is typically only edible when he's using the microwave. "Why are you destroying my poor kitchen?" she asks, her voice raspy with too many hours of sleep. "I'm pretty sure your cooking counts as cruel and unusual punishment."

He offers her a withering glance, but there's a smile hiding somewhere underneath. "I'm not cooking," he answers, moving away from the stove to show a bag from one of her favorite breakfast restaurants. "I can't ever get enough of this place, and I wanted to eat here just once before I head back to Central City." He frowns. "I'd like to point out that it's your fault I'm here, and that you owe me ten dollars for breakfast."

She rolls her eyes, smiling. "You know I'm good for it," is her response before pulling her food out of it, going back to the couch to start back on Oliver's poor, mistreated laptop. She's surprised when he doesn't follow, instead swiping the bag from the counter after putting his coat back on. "You're not staying?" she asks, surprised.

"No, sorry," is his answer. "They need me back at STAR Labs as soon as possible, so I basically switched my hours today." He frowns. "I guess I'm on graveyard, since I'll get off at two a.m."

She knows how much he hates the late-night shifts, so she frowns. "Sorry, Watson," she says quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner."

He shrugs, smiling. "Not your fault, Sherly," he answers with that huge, cheesy grin she's come to expect over all the years. "After all, you were doing noble deeds—saving a life and making moony-eyes over Starling's resident vigilante." She sticks her tongue out at him, and he chuckles. "Talk to you, soon, Sherly—I want to make sure you're not getting yourself into any trouble."

"I promise to keep you apprised of what your hero is doing," she answers dryly. "And I promise I won't take any insane risks. After that last time, I'm not going into the field again anytime soon."

His eyes narrow at her, and she cringes. "You were in the field?" he asks. "Are you crazy? You could have gotten killed out there!" He crosses his arms, and she knows it's serious now; that's serious face, and Felicity has never won an argument with him when he's wearing that expression. "I demand details."

Never before has she been so grateful to hear the knock at the door, and she looks at it in relief. Barry sighs. "Saved by the doorbell," he mutters as he moves to answer it for her, then turns. "We’ll finish this conversation later, though.”

She nods at the same time that Saphira starts charging from the spare bedroom to the door, tail wagging as she barks loudly. Barry looks between Felicity and the little shiba, frowning. "It's Oliver," Felicity explains, not looking up. "Saphira loves him for some reason. The Arrow feeds her treats to win her affection, but Oliver just shows up and she's excited." She shrugs at Barry's wide-eyed expression, and then he finally shakes his head, probably not even sure where to begin asking questions.

"Does your life ever seem surreal to you?" he asks finally, heading to the door, and she can't help but chuckle. All the time is the answer she wants to give, but, before she can respond, she hears him say, "Hey, Oliver. Come on in—Felicity's in the den with computer-y things."

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asks, and she can hear the hesitance in his tone. "Because I can come back," he offers, but Felicity knows his heart isn't in it.