Work Text:
“What exactly is going on here?” John asked with an amused smile as he bent to kiss her cheek.
Felicity gave quick hugs to JJ and Sara before they bounded into the backyard, only too happy to tumble around the manicured lawn. Conscientiously, she turned back to John with a sheepish shrug, “Since there’s no formal coursework and the League’s “ascension” ceremonies have been unceremoniously vetoed, Nyssa thought it would be a good idea to have a celebration for Mia’s... progress? Advancements? Whatever. My baby girl’s kicking butt and taking names so we decided to throw a party slash...”
“Martial arts exhibition?” he finished when she trailed off, an almost incredulous look on his face.
“Yeah, there we go,” Felicity accepted readily, catching onto the example. “One of those if one of those is like the tournament in The Karate Kid minus Cobra Kai jerks. Plus, Will’s leaving to start grad school next month, and I don’t know when we’d have the time to get everyone together again before then.”
“Sure,” he conceded with a shrug and a fond smile at her never-ending pop culture references. “I still can’t believe he graduated two years early but I guess he’s your kid after all. I definitely can’t believe Nyssa celebrates accomplishments. I figured she was one of those negative reinforcement people. You know, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger or whatever nightmare training Oliver went through.”
“Hey,” she pushed John’s shoulder in defense of the former assassin who had become an unlikely but loyal and reliable friend, “she’s a pretty adept teacher. Patient but determined without being pushy. And, you know, the League was apparently big on ceremonies for all sorts of things. Forced marriages, etc.”
John scrunched up his expression and shook his head, “See? Now I’m imagining old Ra’s al Ghul handing out little participation trophies and I’m never going to get that out of my head.”
“You know what else you’re never getting rid of?” Felicity raised a hand to point across the lawn where a determined little Sara was imitating Mia’s and Nyssa’s fighting stances. “I speak from experience!” she yelled out as he broke into a quick jog across the lawn.
“Oh! Oh no she doesn't,” Dig called back, picking up his pace, “Lyla will kill me if she misses Sara’s first lesson. She won’t care who it’s with.”
He returned with Sara safely ensconced in his arms, put out at having her warrior poses interrupted. Nyssa was silently laughing at his overreaction while Mia wasn’t bothering to keep quiet at all. Eager to distract her, Dig settled Sara with the toys Felicity kept around for this exact reason then sunk onto the porch step by her feet. She dropped onto the landing and leaned back against the post, stretching her legs out along the step.
“Lyla’s sorry to miss out, by the way,” Dig apologized as they watched Mia repeat roundhouse kicks with surprising accuracy and consistency.
Felicity nodded in understanding since unfortunately they’d gotten used to Lyla’s more than occasional absence over the years. “Someone’s got to save the world. Especially with certain superheroes in retirement. Although Oliver swears he’s not retired, he’s just activated Superdad mode.” They both laughed at the corniness.
“I’m surprised Oliver didn’t insist on training her himself,” he observed, tilting his head to watch her chuckle again.
“Oh please,” she scoffed, “he strokes out whenever he has to train me. You think he could even pretend to hit our precious baby girl? This is the same man who might as well have bought stock in Barbie and princess-themed band-aids after Mia was born.”
“Is that why he’s hiding out in the kitchen with Will and Thea and Roy?” John asked, his ulterior motive clear.
Felicity grinned in return. “You know it. I had to give him at least one kid for consolation.”
“Well, I purposely didn’t eat breakfast before coming here so...” He was already climbing back to his feet as he trailed off, patting her shoulder absentmindedly and stepping over her like a tiny speed bump.
She waved him off, adding, “Go, go, go. Bring me something if it’s ready.” To a well-entertained Sara, she sighed, “Just you and me, kid.”
Her lack of adult companionship didn’t last long. A moment later she heard the deliberately loud tread of boots on the wood slats. A disembodied hand holding a cup of coffee appeared in front of her face with a curt, “Hey, here.”
Felicity wrapped her hands around the comforting warmth of the mug before a blanket fell in a heap at her feet. “Oh thanks,” she murmured, dragging it up over her legs.
Laurel’s reply was companionable silence from where she leaned against the opposite post. They both watched as Nyssa put Mia through her paces, JJ observing closely from off to the side. “She’s really coming along,” Laurel noted, a touch of pride in her voice.
“Yeah, I know,” Felicity said, setting her coffee aside.
“Don’t be so smug,” Laurel rolled her eyes at the obviousness in Felicity’s tone. “This part is Oliver’s genes, not yours. Loathe as I am to admit it.”
Instead of conceding the point, Felicity pivoted. “She hacked the local police’s database yesterday.”
“Well, you have been complaining a five-year-old could do that for about a decade now,” Laurel countered, recalling their first forays into working together. “Doesn’t that mean she’s behind your curve?”
“Shut up,” Felicity defended her budding genius then explained, “I installed some blocks on the tablet so she had to get around those first.”
“Ooh, the student has surpassed the teacher.” The teasing was accompanied by Laurel nudging her foot with her own.
“Yeah, right. Those were just the first level obstacles. I’ve got a whole series planned for her,” she revealed, smiling in anticipation. After William’s blazing fast progress, Felicity didn’t want to underestimate or underprepare for either of her children, no matter where their skills might lie.
They dropped back into silence, but Felicity watched as Laurel’s feet tapped rhythmically and she feinted just slightly in sync with Mia. “You sure you don’t want to get out there with them?” she offered, knowing it was already futile. Laurel had taken great pains to avoid slipping back into Black Siren behavior, to the point where she might not even be able to call up those skills on command anymore.
“Hah,” Laurel scoffed into her own coffee, “When lawyers say “fighting shape,” it turns out they’re never talking about physical fitness.”
“Are you telling me Black Siren’s gone soft?” Felicity teased, risking the backlash.
Laurel didn’t admit to any weakness but instead reminded her, “Are you forgetting I used to work with an al Ghul? Granted, Talia’s so much worse than Nyssa, but I’m not touching that much crazy with a ten-foot pole again. How’d you even get Oliver to agree to this?”
Felicity smirked at the memory. “I told him to imagine Mia’s first date. Then I told him to imagine Mia’s first date if she were trained by the League of Assassins since practically birth.”
“And that worked?” Laurel questioned with a healthy dose of skepticism.
She shrugged casually, recalling Oliver’s reaction then how she made it up to him. “After he accused me of trying to give him a heart attack, sure.”
“Queens are so dramatic,” Laurel complained, as if she didn’t spend a solid chunk of her life attacking people with a sonic scream.
“Tell me about it,” Felicity just sighed, “I don’t know how to tell Will he should stop being so excited about the inevitable day his little sister gets assaulted just so he can watch her beat the crap out of some entitled douchebag.”
Without reacting to the decidedly weird scenario, Laurel instead asked, “Honest question. Did you ever think that kid was straight? He hates the patriarchy as much as anyone with a dick can.”
She shrugged carelessly because, “Who can remember anymore? And maybe his insistence on gender equality is just some excellent parenting.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Those are some demon children you’ve got.” Laurel used her coffee to gesture at the hand-standing Mia then smirked. “Why do you think I like them?”
Felicity frowned at her enemy turned friend. “What? No, they’re not. You like them because they’re good kids.”
Laurel shot her an incredulous look. “Yeah, that’s why you’ve got a house half full of broken furniture and hiding places for sharp objects every three feet and a security system that gets reprogrammed to porcupine farts at least once a week. Because they’re just angels.”
The sarcasm was said lightly, no worse than her and Laurel’s usual banter, but tears welled up behind Felicity’s eyes and she called out a choked up, “Oliver!”
Seconds later, he burst out the door, apron around his waist and knife in hand. “What!? What? What’s going on?”
Sharp eyes took in his distraught wife and the moderately surprised Laurel, and he advanced on the latter. “What’d you say to her?” Oliver questioned Laurel harshly, waving the kitchen knife in her general direction. As a testament to their growth, at least Oliver didn’t assume that Laurel had done something to make her cry.
“We raised demon children!” Felicity practically wailed. Oliver sighed, set the knife down finally, and knelt to gather her up against his chest.
“We did not raise demon children,” he adamantly reassured her. “Laurel, shut up.” That was more of a hiss to the woman who just shrugged, unbothered.
Laurel rolled her eyes before again pointing out, “I’m just saying, I like your kids. So does the last Ra’s Al Ghul over there. What does that say about them?”
Oliver paused in stroking Felicity’s hair comfortingly. He opened his mouth to retort then his shoulders slumped. “Oh god, we raised demon children.”
Felicity’s quiet sniffles gave way to a watery chuckle at his exaggerated defeat, and Oliver sighed in relief. They sat huddled like that, while Laurel muttered under her breath about drama queens, and only loosely separated at Nyssa’s approach. She’d left Mia and JJ with instructions to meditate on the lawn which they were clearly ignoring in favor of chasing each other around.
With an enigmatic smile, she inclined her head and spoke in her usual measured, accented tone, “Oliver, Felicity, imposter Laurel.” The distinction made Laurel sigh but she wasn’t about to argue with Nyssa al Ghul for the hundredth time over the technicality. “I am pleased with young Mia’s progress.”
“Ahhhh!”
The startled yell interrupted the report, and they all swung their gazes towards the kids in time to see an airborne JJ, gangly limbs flopping around. Based on the scene, Mia had somehow used her acquired skills to sweep his legs out from under him. JJ landed flat on his back with a thump and groaned a confused “Ow?”
From the open kitchen window, John yelled out, “He’s fine!” around a mouthful of food.
JJ presumably rolled his eyes and audibly grumbled a sarcastic, “Thanks, Dad,” in response.
“You can’t overpower what you can’t catch,” Mia sassed, standing over him with her hands planted on her hips. She offered him a hand up, and JJ good-naturedly accepted even though he hardly needed the help. In fact, he nearly pulled her off her feet getting back to his.
“Yes,” Nyssa nodded decisively, “Soon, the world will be ill prepared for her wrath. We commence more rigorous training the next fortnight.”
With that pronouncement, she spun on her heel to march back towards the children, praising Mia and offering JJ constructive criticism.
Felicity gaped at Nyssa’s back before quietly repeating, “Wrath? The Demon’s Head thinks our eight-year-old has wrath.”
“Somehow that just seems right,” Oliver shrugged after a moment of consideration. Off Felicity’s disbelieving look, he cheekily offered, “Mia is her mother’s daughter after all.”
The mother in question scoffed and pulled away from him. “Oh when it’s something bad, suddenly she’s my daughter and not your perfect angel?”
“Well, one of us used to be a goth hacktivist,” Oliver argued only to be countered with Felicity’s immediate, “Well, one of us used to pee on cop cars and fight paparazzi so what’s your point, pot?”
“Dad, you peed on a policeman!?”
The high-pitched question interrupted their banter, and they turned, caught, to find their daughter a few steps away and scrunching up her nose. Mia was the very picture of adorableness in stark contrast to her customary look of determination during training. Oliver fumbled for an answer, but before he could, Will jumped in from where he’d wandered out to the porch.
“No, just the car. I'll show you the video later,” he winked at his sister who continued to make her grossed out face. When his parents spluttered out quick exclamations of incredulity, Will sighed, “What? Of course I’ve seen it. If it’s on the internet, I can find it.”
“Don’t get smart with me,” Oliver grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Quoting Felicity won’t keep you out of trouble.”
“Well, as much fun as it is watching married people pretend-argue about their kids’ genes,” Laurel interrupted without bothering to hide her sarcasm, “I’ve got to go. Murder trial on Monday, and I haven’t made the interns cry over the evidence rules yet.”
The polite, well-mannered children they’d raised automatically went to say their goodbyes while Oliver whispered to Felicity, “Why are you still friends with her again?”
“Bye Aunt Laurel! I hope you send the bad guys to jail,” Mia very sweetly wished to her honorary aunt.
Laurel had knelt to give her customary stiff hug to the young girl—no matter how many times Felicity had all but shoved infant Mia into her arms, Laurel just couldn’t seem to adjust to children—and thanked Mia with an awkward pat on the head. They both stifled a laugh even as Mia took it in stride.
“Because someone needs to set an example for the kids about legal paths to justice, and weirdly, she’s the best we’ve got,” Felicity shrugged, pointing out the obvious.
“Wait, wait! You can’t go yet.”
Of all people, Thea was the one to stop Laurel. She softened the directive by pushing through to bring out platters of food to the table they set beside the porch, which was starting to feel overcrowded as everyone gravitated towards the delicious smells. Sharing the sentiment, John dropped off his plates and relocated Sara and her toys to the grass, and Laurel and Roy stepped off, leaving Oliver and Felicity the sole occupants.
Before Laurel could question her, Thea explained, “Not until they tell us why we’re really here. We love you, Mia, but Oliver doesn’t cook like this for a regular backyard party.”
“What are you talking about?” Oliver frowned at his sister before casting a suspicious glance at Will who shrugged.
John sighed and crossed his arms, “Come on, it’s completely obvious.”
“It is?” Felicity asked in confusion, her own frown settling on her lips.
“Not like that,” Thea quickly shook her head, “but other ways.”
Laurel nodded in agreement then chimed in. “Avoiding coffee?” she gestured to the untouched mug abandoned on the porch step, “Crying over rearing hell spawn? Dead giveaways.”
“Okay, stop. Your descriptions are getting worse,” Felicity raised a hand in agitation. “And I really don’t know what you’re all talking about.”
After everyone heartily rolled their eyes, Nyssa coolly remarked, “Felicity, your gait has changed subtly, indicating a widening of your pelvis in preparation for birth.”
“Oh god. I didn’t need to know that part so let’s just cut to the chase. You’re pregnant, Blondie!” Roy yelled, exasperated. “You two are way more lovey-dovey than usual, you haven’t stopped touching your stomach, you turned down wine at dinner last night, and, yeah, what Laurel and Nyssa said.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone stared expectantly at Oliver and Felicity who were silently communicating, but then they didn’t have to respond because kids.
“I didn’t tell anyone!” Will suddenly exclaimed, holding his hands up, before he found himself on the receiving end of a false accusation.
“Me neither!” Mia echoed, her little face the picture of exaggerated innocence.
Thea sighed, “But thank you for putting us out of our misery and confirming the news, nephew and niece of mine.” Simultaneously, they mouthed, “Oh,” and their expressions transformed into embarrassment.
To Felicity, Nyssa offered, “Congratulations, sister-wife. I look forward to meeting your newborn hell spawn.”
Oliver went red in the face, but Felicity caught the slightest hint of teasing in Nyssa’s voice and smothered a laugh. No one else bothered to be so discreet, and a steady stream of snickers burst from the adults.
“Sister-wife?” Will repeated, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Thea quickly redirected him, “You’ve got more important things to think about, like being a big brother the second time over.”
“It’ll be pretty easy since I won’t even be home,” he shrugged carelessly, not noticing his parents’ frowns at the mention of his renewed absence. “And it’s not like this baby could cry more than Mia did, so they’ll be awesome by comparison.”
Mia stamped her foot at the same time she loudly argued, “I didn’t cry a lot!”
“How would you know? You were a baby,” Will retorted, a smile growing despite the dark cloud forming over his sister’s head. “And, yes, you did. Why do you think we live in the middle of nowhere? It’s because no city wanted us around with you screaming your head off every night and day.”
“Will, stop teasing your sister,” Felicity warned, “You’re going to upset her over nothing.”
“Yes, wouldn’t want to invoke the wrath of Mia Queen,” Laurel echoed Nyssa’s earlier praise, a faint smirk on her lips.
“Alright, everyone knows now. You can go back to leaving,” Oliver grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. It was cute to an extent, but not even he was going to find the constant reminders that Mia had inherited, well, his and Felicity’s tempers amusing. Of the two of them, Felicity had always been the more dangerous one to cross, appearances to the contrary.
Laurel rolled her eyes at the half-hearted animosity but waved at the group, keys jangling in her hand, as she headed for her car. “Oh, congrats!” she threw over her shoulder belatedly, prompting the rest to kick in their well wishes.
Felicity wrapped her arms around Oliver’s waist, hugging him tightly as he pressed a long kiss to the top of her head. They tuned everyone—and everyone’s betting on gender and due dates—out to just smile contently at each other. Well, until there was a commotion from across the yard.
“Mia!” they called in unison, panic tinging their voices. “Stop beating up your brother! I don’t care how funny or easy you think it is!”