"Oliver, that's the fifth time you've checked your phone in the last 30 minutes."

"What?" Oliver asked distractedly. He looked up from the screen of his phone to meet Felicity's amused gaze.

"Five times," she repeated, nodding at his phone. "You've checked your phone five times since we got here 30 minutes ago."

"No," he denied, shaking his head. "There's no way, it hasn't been that many times."

"Yep," she giggled. "You checked it once when we first sat down. Then again when the waiter took our drink order. Once when he brought them. Then when he came back to take our actual order, and again, just now. That's five."

Oliver opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

"Tommy is fine," she assured him. She was referring to their nine month old son. Tonight was the first time they had ever left him with a babysitter, and Oliver couldn't fight the nervous feeling in his stomach, hence the number of times he had checked his phone.

"We're supposed to be taking a night off, a date" Felicity reminded him. She reached across the table to take his hand. "Cisco and Barry will take good care of him."

"Do you really belief that?" Oliver asked skeptically.

"Of course," Felicity smiled brightly. "I have complete and utter faith in them."

"Really?" Oliver pressed, a smirk creeping onto his face. He watched as the smile faltered slightly on her face, but she forced it back on, nodding soundly. "Then why have you gone to the washroom four times since we sat down?"

Felicity froze with her glass of water half way to her lips, her eyes widened. Their conversation paused as the waiter returned with their food. Oliver nodded in thanks, not taking his eyes off of Felicity.

"Because, if you really need to go that often, you should probably see your doctor," Oliver teased once the waiter left.

Felicity's cheeks flushed as she placed her glass back down on the table. "I don't know what you're talking about," she avoided his eyes, focused on the edge of the table cloth as she twisted it between her fingers.

"Really?" he continued, the smile growing on his face. "So, you're not going to the washroom to check your phone, or I don't know, to use your tablet to access the cameras in the house to check in?"

Felicity's cheeks flushed and bit her lip.

"Tommy's fine," Oliver echoed her previous statement, but there was a mocking edge to it. "Barry and Cisco can handle it, right? Isn't that what you said?"

Oliver held back a laugh as he watched Felicity fight with herself, biting her tongue as she tried to hold back a retort.

"Don't you trust them?" he teased, curious how long she'd be able to hold back.

He didn't have to wait long as she smacked both of her hands down on the table a few seconds later. "No," she burst out. "I mean, yes, I trust them, I do, when we're out in the field or on a mission. But…"

"Not with Tommy?" Oliver asked softly.

"I don't know," she cried. "Does that make me a terrible person? They're our friends, our teammates. But…"

"He's our son," Oliver finished her sentence. He reached across the table, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"And it's Cisco and Barry," she emphasized. "What do they even know about taking care of a baby? I mean, these are the same two guys that once rigged a toaster to play the entire Star Wars Theme when the toast finished cooking."

Oliver recalled hearing about the incident, he also remembered that the toaster had required so much energy that they had knocked out the power to the entire block.

"It's the first time we've left Tommy," Oliver reasoned. "I think we're allowed to be nervous, expected to be even."

"Of all nights for John and Lyla to go visit her parents," Felicity mumbled bitterly. "And my mom just had to get sick."

Oliver nodded in agreement. "And Thea had to go visit Roy," he added as his imagination ran wild with different situations that Cisco and Barry could be getting their son into, each one more terrifying and worrisome than the next.

"You know," Felicity said thoughtfully, fiddling with her cell phone. "Like you said, it's our first time leaving Tommy, our only child, with babysitters, who have very limited, if any, experience with children. No one could fault us for being nervous, or you know, calling to check in."

Oliver raised his eyes to meet hers, a look of realization on his face, as it clicked in his mind as to what his wife was suggesting.

"I mean, some might even say we were being negligent parents if we didn't, call, I mean," Felicity continued, trying to excuse her actions. "And if everything is fine, then great, we can finish dinner and head home, no harm done."

Oliver nodded, leaning forward. "Right," he agreed. "No harm in just checking in. We're just concerned and caring parents."

"Exactly. I'm calling," Felicity decided, quickly dialling Barry's cell number.

"Put it on speaker," Oliver requested, gesturing to the phone.

Felicity complied, placing the device on the table as the nervous couple listened to the phone ring, waiting for someone to pick up on the other end.

"Felicity?" Barry's voice echoed through the speaker.

"Hey Barry," she said casually. "Oliver and I just wanted to call to check in, make sure everything was going okay."

"Again?" Barry asked. "You called 15 minutes ago, I told you, everything is fine."

Oliver looked at Felicity, his eyebrows raised. "15 minutes ago?" he muttered. That had been about the time of Felicity's last visit to the washroom.

"What?" she whispered innocently. "I thought I had left the oven on."

"You don't use the oven," Oliver reminded her, smiling at his wife's terrible excuse.

"Whatever," she retorted. "Anyway, Barry, how are things going? Did he fight you on the veggies at dinner, he does that sometimes."

"Umm… Fine," Barry answered distractedly. "Totally fine. No veggie fights."

Before Oliver or Felicity could respond, they heard Cisco calling Barry's name in the background.

"What's wrong?" Barry said urgently, his voice was slightly muffled, as if he was trying to cover the mouth piece.

"I need your help," came Cisco's desperate reply. "I thought I could handle this, but I can't. You have to help me."

"But…" Barry said fearfully.

"Barry. I have had your back for years, through everything, I need you to have mine now," Cisco begged. "Don't make me go back in there alone. This is a two man job."

Barry groaned. "Felicity?" his voice came clearly though the speaker. "I gotta go."

"Barry?" she called to him. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"I'll see you later. If I survive this," he added in an undertone.

'"Barry?" Oliver tried, but was met with the sound of the dial tone. He stared at the phone for a few seconds.

"I'll get the cheque," Felicity jumped up, running to find their waiter.

"I'll get our coats," Oliver added, walking briskly to the coat room.

The couple met at the door, Felicity had her phone raised to her ear. "They aren't answering," she said worriedly, dialling the number again as Oliver pushed the door open.

Oliver quickly ushered her out to their car, he started driving before Felicity even had her seat belt on, spending in the direction of their house. Breaking half a dozen traffic laws, he pulled into the driveway in half the time the drive should have taken.

The couple jumped out of the car, racing to the front door.

"Barry?" Felicity called desperately, the second they were through the door.

Oliver was on high alert, years of training kicking in as he cased the state of their home. For the most part, it seemed to be in the same state they had left it in. Fairly tidy, except for a few of Tommy's toys scattered on the floor, nothing seemed out of place.

"Barry! Cisco!" Felicity called again. Not hearing a response, she ran through the living room, into the kitchen, repeating their friends' names.

"Up here," finally came a distant reply.

Oliver ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, he could hear Felicity's hurried footsteps as she ran behind him.

"We're in here," Barry's voice was clearer and seemed to be coming from their bathroom.

Oliver and Felicity burst through the door, freezing in confusion at the site that lay before them.

Barry was holding their son out at arms length, over the bathtub, while Cisco held the detachable shower head, pointing the spray of water at their son's bare bottom.

"You're back," Cisco sighed in relief, he turned the water off.

Barry jumped up, holding Tommy out towards Oliver. "Here," he said. "Take him back." There was a gust of wind and Barry was gone in a blur.

Oliver held his son, still frozen in shock. His eyes narrowed as he turned his glare towards Cisco, who was avoiding his eyes and staring at the ground. He walked over to the counter, pulling out a diaper to cover up his son. Tommy was gazing up at his father, giggling happily as he rubbed his small hands over his father's scruffy face.

"Cisco," Felicity asked curiously. "Um… What… Why… How… What…"

"Huh?" Cisco asked, still avoiding the couple's questioning gaze.

"What the hell is going on?" Felicity finally managed to string a full sentence together.

"Oh… Well, you see," he stammered.

"Cisco," Oliver growled, using his Arrow voice.

He picked his son up, having finished changing him and held him close to his chest.

"It was going fine, everything was great, he ate his dinner, we were playing with him, there hadn't been any tears, but then…" Cisco trailed off.

"Then?" Felicity prompted. She moved over to stand next to her husband, running her hand over their son's soft hair.

"He…" Cisco mumbled the rest of his explanation under his breath. Oliver and Felicity looked at each other in confusion, neither able to make out what had been said.

"What?" Oliver asked for clarification.

Cisco mumbled out his story again, staring at the floor.

"One more time," Felicity asked impatiently.

"He pooped," Cisco blurted, looking up. "Okay! And I'm not talking a normal baby sized poop. I'm talking a huge, giant, should not have been able to come out of something so small, poop. It completely filled the diaper and it was everywhere, like up his back, everywhere. Which can't be normal," Cisco waved his arms wildly as he recalled the events of the evening, clearly traumatized.

"It was awful. And Barry and I had rock, paper, scissored over diapers earlier, but I couldn't do it alone," Cisco's cheeks were pale and there was a look of horror on his face. "It was… Awful. I didn't think it was possible for something like that, to come out of someone so small."

Oliver and Felicity stood in silence for a moment after Cisco finished recounting the event, before they burst into peals of laughter.

"It's not funny," Cisco said in a betrayed tone. "Fine, laugh at my pain. I'm only scarred for life and never having children."

The couple only laughed louder as Cisco stalked past them, out of the bathroom.

Felicity was the first to recover, running to catch up with his retreating form.

"Cisco, thank you," she said, trying to hold back her laughter. "And I'm sorry, if you were scarred for life."

"Right," he bit out. "You look really sorry."

"So," she asked. "Can we count on you for next time?"

Cisco turned to face her, a glare on his face that rivalled Oliver's. "Ha," he said sarcastically. "I'm busy, at least until that little poop machine is potty trained."

A stream of giggles burst through her lips, unable to be held back any longer. Cisco glared and stomped his way out the front door, muttering under his breath. Felicity closed the door, leaning against it as she tried to get her laughter under control. She looked up to see Oliver, still carrying Tommy, half way down the stairs.

"So, that went well," Oliver chuckled, bouncing Tommy on his hip.

Felicity walked up the stairs to meet her family. "Definitely," she retorted. "Do… do you think it was on purpose?"

"What?" Oliver asked.

"Poop sabotage," Felicity giggled. "Maybe our little monster didn't like us being gone anymore than we liked leaving him."

"I doubt it," Oliver laughed lightly. "But, just in case, maybe we shouldn't leave him with any babysitters for a while. You know, we wouldn't want to scar anymore of our friends."

"I agree," Felicity nodded, following Oliver as he walked up the stairs to put Tommy to bed.