A/N: This is sequel to "Kindergarten Conference." You probably don't have to have read that story in order to understand this one, but it might be better if you have. I couldn't get this world out of my mind, so I wrote this follow up. I hope you enjoy it, and I think you can expect a prequel to be posted shortly. :)

Cover Story

Felicity sighed as she stepped through the front door of the home she shared with her husband and son. It had been a long day, topped off by a particularly unsettling conference about her son's behavior in school, and she couldn't wait to finally sit down on the couch and relax.

Preferably while Oliver rubbed her feet. Her feet were killing her.

As she stripped her jacket off and hung it up in the coat closet, she heard her husband abandoning his car keys into the ceramic bowl by the door. She glanced over at him and saw him running a hand over his face. She knew he was dreading the upcoming conversation with Tommy almost as much as she was.

How exactly was she going to explain to her 5-year-old that the man he saw her kissing was not Oliver without him thinking she was cheating on her husband? Of course, the man really had been Oliver dressed in his Arrow suit, but Tommy couldn't know that.

She remembered the night well. Oliver had had a particularly bad evening – first he had had to miss the open house at Tommy's school because of a bank robbery downtown, then he had spent the rest of the night trying to track down an abducted family. After hours of searching, he had found the woman and little boy tied up in a warehouse. It was one of the few times that Oliver let a job get to him personally, and she still remembered how broken he seemed when he climbed through their bedroom window that night (not even bothering to stop at the foundry to take off his suit). He had pulled her close and rested his head on her shoulder while she let her hands sneak up under his suit jacket and rub over the scars on his back. Knowing exactly what was on his mind, she had kissed his jaw and told him she was fine and she wasn't going anywhere.

What had followed was more kissing, and apparently at some point, Tommy had poked his head through the slightly ajar door to see his parents embracing – except his dad was dressed as the Starling City vigilante.

The boy wasn't exactly known for his ability to keep a secret. Case in point: when he literally went up to strangers in the grocery store to tell them that his mom was going to have a baby the day after she and Oliver had told him and asked him to keep the news quiet. Apparently he had thought that whispering the big news to everyone who would listen was what they had meant.

No. They definitely couldn't tell him the truth. He was too young to understand the sensitivity of that information. But what else could they tell him? Most of the other explanations to his story included persuading her son that he hadn't really seen what he thought (which just felt wrong) or letting him believe she had been kissing someone who wasn't his father (which made her stomach flip over uneasily). Neither option appealed to her.

"Hey." Oliver's hand snaked around her waist and he pulled her close enough to lightly kiss her temple. "I told you to stop worrying. It will be fine."

"Easy for you to say," she mumbled as she turned her face into his shoulder, "you're not the one who looks like a cheater when this is all over."

Oliver smiled into her hair. "You know how he is. He'll forget this even happened by next week."

Felicity gave him a small shove and smiled. "You better be right. Because I don't want to go through the rest of my life with my son thinking I'm cheating on you with your crazy alter-ego."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Crazy?"

She nodded defiantly and he broke into a rare smile before planting a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth.

Oliver paid the babysitter while Felicity stepped out of her heels. The girl told them that Tommy was in their room playing – something he did pretty often because he said he liked to play on the 'big bed' – and then she left.

Felicity sighed. It was now or never.

Oliver followed her up the stairs, and she felt his hand resting soothingly on her lower back as she opened the door to the bedroom they shared. Just as the babysitter had said, Tommy was perched in the middle of their bed with action figures sprawled around him. At that moment, he was acting out a particularly acrobatic confrontation between Arsenal and The Arrow. The Arrow seemed to be winning.

When he saw them come in, he broke into a huge smile and dropped his toys.

"You're home!" he cheered, jumping from the bed and running towards them. He wrapped his arms around Felicity, the top of his head hitting the middle of her slightly rounded stomach. Regretful that she couldn't pick him up to give him a hug like she used to (the doctor had warned her that Tommy's weight might be a little too much for her to lift until after the baby was born, and Oliver got grumpy any time she disobeyed the doctor), she settled for squatting down and pulling him into a real hug.

"How's my boy doing today?" she asked sweetly, brushing some of his light hair away from his face and planting a kiss on his nose.

"Good," he crooned, wiggling out of her embrace and jumping up into his father's arms. Oliver caught him easily and lifted him. "Dad, do you want to see the new trick I can do?"

"Maybe in a minute, buddy," Oliver replied easily, shifting Tommy so he was being held at the waist in only his right arm. Tommy laughed and put his arms out to pretend like he was an airplane. Oliver walked over to the bed and plopped his son down gently on the mound of pillows that Felicity insisted they have as decorations. Tommy giggled and knelt up to look at his parents.

"We talked to Mrs. Brown today," Oliver began. "Is there anything you want to tell us?"

Felicity glanced at Oliver's face – which was impressively serious – to Tommy's face – which held wide blue eyes and a slightly downturned mouth. His expression was the same as it had been the week before when Felicity caught him sneaking extra Oreos out of the pantry. It was also the expression Oliver wore every time she caught him touching one of her computers.

It was at moments like this that Felicity realized that her son was basically a mini replica of her husband. She felt a small tug at her heart. She didn't stand a chance against those faces.

Lucky for her, Oliver's serious face didn't waver.

Tommy sighed dramatically. "It's a long story. You better sit down."

Felicity bit her lip to hide her smile and noticed Oliver doing the same. They followed Tommy's lead and settled themselves into seated positions against the headboard with the little boy nestled between them.

"Mrs. Brown told you the story?" he asked skeptically, looking from his mother to his father. They both nodded. He sighed again. "Well it all started when Drake Cook stole Lily Lonneman's pen," he began eagerly in his sweet childish voice. He motioned with his hands as he spoke, a habit Felicity knew she had accidentally passed on to him. "Lily is my friend and Drake made her cry. I was going to tell Mrs. Brown, but then Patrick threw up everywhere and Mrs. Brown had to help him feel better…."

He trailed off and looked at each of his parents again. He gulped. "So then I got really mad and I knocked Drake over and stole Lily's pen back for her."

The little boy ducked his head in shame and Felicity felt her hand reach out automatically to smooth his hair soothingly. She glanced up at her husband who was grinning like an idiot. She glared at him and he made an attempt (albeit a very bad one) to hide the smile.

"Tommy, you know you can't behave like that at school," Felicity started. "We've talked about that. We're not allowed to solve our problems the way your heroes do."

"But he made my friend cry!" Tommy protested, looking up at his mother defiantly. "And you always tell me I should stand up to the people that are being mean. I thought I was doing a good thing."

Felicity thought her heart was going to rip in half when she saw the glassy expression in her son's eyes as they welled with tears. In fact, she distinctly felt wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes as well. Damn pregnancy hormones. She looked over at her husband for some support, and was irritated to see him holding a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop his silent laughter.

Did he think this was funny?! Their son was practically beating people up at school, and it was all his fault!

When Oliver saw her hard look, he took a second to compose himself, then spoke. "Tommy, you can stand up to people that are being mean without tying them to a chair. You had good intentions, but you went about it the wrong way. You can't use violence towards other people."

"I was just trying to be like you," Tommy mumbled, turning to look at his father with the same glassy-eyed expression. This time it was Oliver's turn to feel a tug at his heart.

"I don't…. You know I would stand up to the mean people, Tommy, but I don't know why you would think I would tackle them and tie them up," he stammered.

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Because you're The Arrow."

Oliver's mouth snapped shut and he looked over at Felicity. She was staring at him with wide eyes. "I'm not… I don't know why you think that, but…"

"I saw you kissing him," Tommy explained easily, shifting back so he was looking at his mother and he was snuggled into her side.

"I'm not sure what you saw, buddy, but your dad isn't the Arrow," Felicity answered in a strangled voice.

Tommy sat up a little straighter, looking confused. "I came to check on you because dad wasn't home and he always says that when he's not home I'm the man of the house," Tommy began lightly. He grabbed a nearby action figure and began twirling it around in various martial arts moves as he continued. "And dad was dressed like the Arrow and you told him you loved him. Then you guys kissed and he was helping you change your clothes. So I left because kissing is gross."

His face was scrunched up in revulsion and he didn't spare his parents a glance as his Arrow action figure (which Felicity had bought for him for Christmas a few weeks ago despite Oliver's chagrin) continued to punch and kick the air. Felicity was thankful for the toy because she could feel her face burning.

Thank god for the innocence of the 5-year-old mind.

"All the kids at school asked me how I know it was dad, but I told them that you wouldn't kiss anyone else besides dad. Right Mom?" Tommy dropped his toy and looked at his mother expectantly. Felicity froze and looked at Oliver. What now? If she said yes, she was basically confirming that Oliver was the Arrow. If she said no, she was telling her son she was cheating on his father.

Seeing the horrified look on his wife's face, Oliver suddenly jumped in. He wasn't aware of what he was saying until later, but at the time, all he knew was he had to do something to erase the agonized expression from Felicity's beautiful features.

"That was me, buddy. But I'm not the Arrow. We were just playing dress up."

Felicity sucked in a breath and Tommy looked at his father skeptically. "Dress up?"

"Uh, yeah," Oliver nodded confidently. "I was trying on an Arrow costume."

"Why?" Tommy wondered.

Oliver shrugged, and winked at his son. "Your mom likes to kiss superheroes."

Felicity covered her face with her hands and Oliver fought a smile.

"Ew mom! You want to kiss superheroes?" Tommy shrieked then doubled over in laughter.

"No!" Felicity defended herself, shooting a glare at her husband who was leaned back against the headboard laughing. "I only want to kiss your dad. But I probably won't want to do that for a while," she added in a mumble. Oliver smiled at her impishly, and she fought to keep a straight face.

A moment later, when Tommy had caught his breath, he looked at his dad seriously. "So you're really not the Arrow?" Oliver shook his head, and Felicity felt a pang in her chest when Tommy's face fell. He looked like he was contemplating something. "That's ok. You're still my hero," he said simply before nestling into Felicity's side again and letting his arm fall across her rounded belly.

Felicity looked at Oliver with bright eyes and saw his stunned expression. She smiled softly at him, and he met her eyes and broke into a small smile himself.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Oliver with his arms stretched around Felicity's back rubbing small circles across her side, Felicity cuddling Tommy into her side and rubbing her hand up and down his small back, and Tommy with his arm around his mother's middle patting his baby brother or sister. Oliver and Felicity watched as Tommy scooted forward and placed a quick kiss on Felicity's belly (something he had taken to doing when he saw Oliver do it a few weeks ago on the couch).

"Tommy?" Felicity called lightly, causing the boy to stir so he could sit up and look at her. "I know you are trying to be kind and stand up for your friends, but can you promise me that you won't push, shove, or tie up anyone else at school?"

Tommy grinned and nodded. "Ok Mom. No more arrowing at school."

"Or ever," Oliver added seriously, reaching over to tickle the little boy's neck. Tommy giggled and shrunk further into Felicity's side.

They laid like that for a little while longer, all three cuddled together on top of the pillows in the middle of the bed. Tommy told them about the exciting game they had played in gym class that day then launched into a story about something funny that had happened at the end of the day. He began playing with his action figures again when Oliver and Felicity began telling the boring stories about their days.

Eventually, he fell asleep and Oliver carried him to his room.

When he returned, Felicity had changed into one of his oversized t-shirts and was carefully picking up Tommy's toys from their bed and creating a small stack of them on the nightstand. Oliver snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She sighed contentedly when he placed a soft kiss on her neck.

"So I think that crisis is averted," he hummed into the curve of her shoulder.

She smiled softly and placed her hands over his on her stomach. "I guess it could be worse than our son thinking I forced you to dress up like the Arrow because I'm some kind of superhero groupie."

Oliver chucked and moved his lips up to brush against the shell of her ear. She shifted around so she was facing him and looped her arms around the back of his neck. "You know, I always thought you did have a thing for the suit."

He nibbled lightly at her earlobe and her hands fisted in his short hair. She hummed an affirmation when his nose brushed against her neck and he continued to kiss up her jaw. "Maybe no more Arrow suits in the house though," she rasped out.

He nodded, a smile on his lips.

It had been a week since her conference with the Queens, and Mrs. Brown had noticed a marked improvement in Tommy Queen's behavior. He was still the sweet boy he had always been, but he didn't behave aggressively and had stopped spreading the rumor about his father being the Arrow.

During snack time, Mrs. Brown was walking around helping students open juice boxes, cleaning up spills, and mediating disagreements when she happened to overhear an interesting conversation beginning between Tommy and one of his friends.

The little boy had asked Tommy about his dad, and Mrs. Brown leaned in to hear what the young Queen would say.

"Nope. He's not the Arrow," Tommy shook his head happily while plopping a fistful of goldfish in his mouth.

"But you said you saw him kissing your mom! Your mom's a cheater!" the other boy teased.

Tommy frowned and glared at his friend. "No she's not!" he argued. "It was my dad she was kissing. They were playing dress up. He dressed up like the Arrow because she likes to kiss superheroes."

The other boy formed an 'O' with his mouth and nodded as if that made all the sense in the world.

Mrs. Brown, however, dropped the bag of pretzels she was carrying in shock.

Yes, she had heard many stories from the children over the years, but Tommy Queen's stories continued to surprise her. And unfortunately, there were some stories she just couldn't un-hear. This was probably a story that the Queens didn't need to know their son was spreading….