Author's Note: Surprise! I thought this story was finished, but couldn't resist adding an epilogue as a little belated birthday gift to myself (treat yourself, right?). Also, happy belated birthday to my birthday twin, crazygirlne! And happy half-birthday to ClaudiaRain, who this work is dedicated to ;) I hope you all enjoy it.

Waking up was a slow, angry thing for Felicity Smoak. (Yes, Smoak, not Queen, despite her mother's meddling.) Daylight broke bright and harsh through the slits of her eyes, exacerbating her blistering migraine. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, cringing, then blinked, bravely peering around at meaningless blobs and shapes around her.

"Where are they?" she muttered, fumbling for her glasses, which were not at her bedside table where they belonged. And – "Oh!" – she tipped forward, nearly falling out of bed as she reached into nothing, because her bedside table wasn't where it belonged, either. With a pit in her stomach growing even faster than the nausea crawling up her throat, she realized that she wasn't in her own bed at all.

"Why am I so damn blind?" she groaned, feeling around frantically now. She was on somebody's couch, she decided, noting the leather cushion. You don't need to see, she told herself, placatingly. You're brilliant. You'll figure this out. She reached down, groping around the floor as far as she could reach – and then a little farther…

…And then she rolled off the couch, landing with a thump and a squeak, face down into the carpet. Her glasses were officially lost. So was her dignity.

"You're a brilliant idiot," she told the floor.

At least her facefull of carpet blocked out some of the godawful light, and the force from the impact had briefly distracted from her migraine. Although, there was something hard sticking into her stomach…

"Aha!" She pried herself off the floor, gripping her cellphone triumphantly. OLIVER, she typed, squinting at the screen and typing furiously. SOS. Glasses stolen. Location unknown. HURRY.

Her heart beat faster than those damn little bubbles as she waited for his response. She realized, suddenly, what a precarious position she was in, all sprawled on the ground in a strange place. What if she was in danger? After all, what kind of maniacal villain had such big windows to let in so much horrible, horrible light?

Just got off the elevator, Oliver said. Can you see to let me in?

Felicity frowned. That was an awfully blasé response to this – this crisis. She rolled forward to her hands and knees, following the edge of the couch until –

CRUNCH.

Her knee came down hard on her glasses, bending them the wrong way and splitting one lens down the middle. She threw them on anyway, rushing to the door with her sight restored.

"Oliver!" she cried, burying her face in his chest. "Where am I? What happened? Was I kidnapped again?"

"Kidnapped? What – no." Oliver half laughed, half sighed, prying her face gently from his chest. "Felicity. Don't you remember anything from last night?"

"Shouldn't you be more concerned?" Felicity countered, balking at the amused look on his face. "Look what I've been through!" She pointed at her glasses, half hanging off her face.

Oliver's eyes darted up as he shook his head, the way he always did when he was feeling fondly exasperated with her. By the time he looked back down, he was smiling, hushing her as he fixed her glasses. "You went to Iris's bachelorette party," he reminded her, guiding her back to the couch. "You threw up on my shirt. Ring any bells?"

"What?" Felicity snapped. She never threw up. "No –" She paused, staring down at herself. "What am I wearing?"

Oliver considered her, biting his lip in a clear effort not to laugh. "Looks like you're wearing pajamas."

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face right now," Felicity warned. "Whose pajamas am I wearing?" she insisted. "They're not mine."

"I don't know," Oliver shrugged, mildly. "You were so drunk, I don't even know how you managed to make it here."

Ridiculous. Felicity chose to ignore him, instead finally taking in her surroundings. She found herself in a lavish living room, with floor-to-ceiling windows covering an entire wall, shining that awful light that made her head pound. And all around her were her friends, sleeping on various pieces of furniture – except for a lump she took to be Mick Rory, who was sleeping on the ground beside an armchair holding Ray Palmer.

Then she did a double take, tipping her broken glasses up to look at them properly. "Did they fall asleep holding hands?" Felicity wondered, noting the way Ray's arm was dangling from his chair, his hand draping the ground near Mick's. "About time," she added, as Oliver chuckled at her again.

"Have you ever been this hung over before?" he teased.

Just then, a head popped up from an armchair near the window.

"Mmph." Sara Lance squinted at Felicity from across the room. "Could you keep it down?" Sara asked, her voice cracked with sleep. She covered her ears with her hands. "You're shouting."

Suddenly, a third hand emerged from her blanket, blocking Sara's eyes.

"Just pretend they're not here," came a drawling, sarcastic voice. "Go back to sleep, they'll leave eventually."

Felicity realized with a start that there was a man in Sara's chair. And not just any man. Leonard Snart. That meant…

Sara Lance is cuddling with Captain Cold.

But no. It was worse than that. Because then Sara laughed, dropping her hands from her ears to cup Leonard's face instead. He chuckled, lifting himself up just enough to kiss her, lightly and sweetly on the mouth.

Felicity would never be able to rescue her jaw from the floor. It was glued there. Permanently.

"Aww," Thea cooed, her voice raspy. "You guys are so cute," she said, watching Sara and Leonard. "Not even hangover morning breath can stop your PDA."

Sara chucked a pillow across the room, hitting her with startlingly good aim. Thea just laughed, snuggling into it and hiding her eyes. "Leonard," she added, "you need to get hella curtains in here. This light is gonna burn my eyeballs out of my head."

"Where are we?" Felicity whispered, horrified, turning back to Oliver. He was still watching her with laughing eyes, even as he tried to hide his smile.

"Leonard's apartment," he said, sliding down off the couch to sit on the floor and stretch his legs out.

She looked around again at the large space and rich furnishings. "Should've expected something like this from the jewel thief," she muttered. "And how did I get here?"

"We made it back to our hotel," he said, "but you went kicking and screaming into another cab. You insisted you couldn't miss the after party," he explained, shrugging. "You wouldn't let me come with you," he added, at her raised eyebrow.

Unlikely. "And since when are Sara and Captain Cold an item?" she hissed. Nothing about this was sitting right with Felicity – it made no sense. Maybe she'd been abducted by aliens and was having a bizarre coma dream?

"Since last night," Oliver said, his smile flashing through before he could master it again. He shifted, turning around to kneel before her, taking Felicity's hands in his. "And speaking of…" His smile faded away, his tone suddenly serious. "I need to ask you something."

Felicity stilled, her mind going blank. No. This was definitely an alien coma dream, because he couldn't be…

"Will you…"

She felt her head shaking slightly of its own accord. Felicity squeezed Oliver's hands as her eyes widened, surprise and horror kicking her nausea back into gear.

"Please warn me the next time you want to drink so much?" he finished, mouth curving up in a sly smile. "I really liked that shirt you puked on."

She dropped his hands, falling back in relief. "Don't do that, Oliver," she sighed. "I thought you were going to ask me to –"

"YES!"

A squeal echoed through the apartment, followed by a chorus of repeated yeses and laughter, and then Caitlin Snow was sprinting across the living room.

"Iris!" she cried. "Harry proposed!"

Felicity sprang up in shock. "Caitlin and Harry Wells?" she gasped, looking down at Oliver for confirmation.

"Well, yeah," he said, eyes dancing with mischief. "She's pregnant with his kid, after all."

Felicity gaped. "What?!"

That was the last straw. There was absolutely no way that Felicity had gotten so drunk that she could have forgotten all of this. There was only one good explanation:

"Barry Allen!" Felicity shouted, jumping from the couch and trailing behind Caitlin. "You changed the timeline again! How could you?"

She found them all in the bedroom: Caitlin had squeezed onto a king-sized bed next to Iris, Cisco and Barry, and was showing off an enormous diamond engagement ring.

"You swore you'd never do it again!" Felicity roared, leaping onto the bed to reach Barry, slapping at him as she crawled over the others. "Remember baby Sara?"

"Felicity – what – stop!" Barry sputtered, pawing her off. "I didn't change the timeline. Iris, help," he begged, "I think I'm having one of those awake-dreams. I promise I'll never drink so much again!"

"Felicity," Iris laughed, tugging her back. "What's gotten into you? Did you black out last night?"

"I have never blacked out in my life," Felicity insisted, indignantly. "Cisco, if you don't move your hand off my boob right now, I'll –"

"Sorry!" Cisco squeaked. "I didn't mean it! You trapped my hand under you when you leapt on top of me."

"I don't think the Arrow accepts apologies," she said, primly.

"No, but he does give them on behalf of his crazed girlfriend," Oliver said, sighing, watching the scene unfold from a safe distance.

"Girlfriend, huh?" Caitlin asked, peering up at him and twisting her new engagement ring. "When're you guys gonna finally –"

"Morning!" Ray called, cheerfully interrupting as he wandered into the room, typical grin lighting his face. Felicity would've kissed him for the distraction, if it weren't generally frowned upon to kiss one's ex.

"Aren't you hung over?" Barry whined, pressing his hands into his eyes. "How is he smiling so much right now?"

"Oh, I had a spare hangover pill from the future," he explained, brightly.

Barry peeked his eyes out hesitantly. "Please tell me you have more?"

"Uh, no," Ray wilted slightly, then shrugged, clearly glad he'd used the pill on himself. "Sorry Bare! So, are we trying to see how many people can fit onto this bed?" he asked, flopping himself down across their legs without waiting for an answer. "We should all get together more often," he said, as the others groaned. "This is so much fun."

"You won't think it's so fun when you realize we're living in an alternate timeline!" Felicity cried.

"We're not in an alternate timeline!" Barry, Iris, Cisco and Caitlin shouted in unison. "You just drank way too much last night," Iris added. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Felicity paused. That was a good question. "We came to Central City for your bachelor and bachelorette parties," she said, slowly.

"Uh huh," Iris agreed. "And?"

"Oh my god, that was last night!" Felicity groaned, slapping her forehead as memories trickled back. "We wore super slutty outfits and went to that club and drank –"

"The bachelorette special," Thea finished, making quite the entrance by draping herself over knees and thighs as she laid down between Felicity and Ray. "You puked and rallied, remember?"

"Yes," Felicity moaned, pushing her fists into her forehead. The night was coming back to her in flashes. "And you puked, too," she said, pointing at Caitlin, "but not because you were drinking. And Harry showed up –"

"Because we're pregnant," Harry agreed, ambling into the room and leaning against a bedpost.

"Please tell me you're not getting on this bed too," Caitlin groaned.

"Oh, no," Harry chuckled. "But I am taking pictures, don't worry."

"That's a big ring, Harry!" Iris said, grabbing Caitlin's hand and grinning at him. "How long have you had it?"

"Months," Harry admitted, somehow finding space to sit beside Caitlin on the bed. "I knew right away, once things became romantic, that this was where I wanted us to end up."

They all cooed, watching the couple fondly.

"There's another couple I missed last night," Felicity said, quickly shifting the subject away from marriage. "Sara and Leonard?"

"That was group effort," Ray explained, happily. "We helped them express their feelings for each other via text message."

"Group effort?" Harry scoffed.

"Are you guys talking about us?" Sara asked, entering the room with Leonard in tow.

"Allen," Leonard gave a long-suffering sigh. "I expect you to change these sheets before you leave. I see that spot of puke at the corner."

"Babe," Iris complained.

"Cisco," Barry returned, shooting a glare at his friend.

Cisco let out a disgruntled groan. "If I ever get free again, fine," he agreed, struggling beneath the weight of his friends.

"I can't believe I don't remember Leonard and Sara getting together," Felicity added, sighing into her hands.

"Don't worry," Cisco said, consolingly, "there's a video."

"Oh yeah!" Ray brightened. "I've gotta watch that again. It's in the text stream!"

"Text stream?" Felicity wondered, pulling her phone out.

She had to scroll up through a sea of gifs the group had sent each other that morning, commiserating over their hang overs. So many grumpy cats, sleepy dogs, crying children, and then a woman bent over a toilet, being petted by a broom, with the caption Felicity.

"Hey!" she grumbled, insulted, until she got back to the texts from last night. Then, her indignation froze into horror.

"I did not tell everyone about the condoms at S.T.A.R. Labs!" she shrieked.

"Oh yes you did," Cisco said, grinning. "That was hilarious."

"Ugh," groaned Iris, turning to Barry. "I'm not sure if we can ever face my dad again."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Barry said, grabbing the pillow from behind Cisco's head and covering his face with it. "And I don't want to know," he added, voice muffled.

"Hello!"

Just then, voices called from the front door.

"We brought champagne!" Amaya yelled.

"And vodka!" Nate cheered.

"With orange juice and bloody mix," Jax added.

"If anyone needs a little hair of the dog," Stein agreed.

"You can't be hung over if you're still drunk!" Nate said.

"And we brought groceries for breakfast," Amaya added. "So, get up, everyone!"

It was an effort for the group to untangle themselves from the bed. And it wasn't pretty. Limbs jutted into guts, Felicity had reason to slap Cisco in the face, and no one managed to get up until Barry finally rolled out of the bad.

"Your face is how I feel," Felicity said to him, sympathetically.

Finally, they all stumbled to the kitchen, where drinks and coffee were waiting for them. The Legends team had never seemed more legendary than in that moment, Felicity thought, accepting hers gratefully from Amaya – unless they were all hoarding hangover pills. Then they just sucked.

"Alright, Mick, you can be my sous-chef!" Ray said, cheerfully digging into the bags of groceries.

"Don't call me Sue," Mick grumbled, finally emerging from his spot on the living room floor to join the others. Somehow, he already had a beer in hand.

"I mean, you can be my assistant chef," Ray explained, searching through Leonard's cabinets for cookware.

"Pfft," Mick scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Assistant my ass," he grumbled, pulling a pan out of the first cabinet he tried. "No one does breakfast like Mick Rory!" he bellowed, and immediately set to it, leaving a bewildered but impressed Ray to watch.

Over the next three cups of coffee, chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, Felicity slowly pieced her night together from her own vague recollections and the others' stories.

"No wonder my head hurts so much!" she exclaimed, when Jax mentioned the drunk who'd accidentally punched her at the bar instead of Harry. "I can't believe I forgot that. Oh," she cringed, cradling her face as it stung with the memory of pain.

The others laughed, except Oliver, who put his arm around her consolingly. Felicity had to admit, he was racking up the brownie points today. Too bad he was being so smug about it.

"So, Sara," Jax said, evidently deciding Felicity had been teased enough. "I can do some renovations to your room if you want." He glanced slyly between Sara and Leonard. "Turn it into a suite, with your own king-sized bed."

Sara smirked herself, her eyes not so slyly drifting to Leonard's. "You think you can make me a bed that fits seven people, like that one in there?"

"King-sized beds are all the same size," Jax sighed, "but yes. Just like that one."

Sara hid her growing grin behind her coffee mug, never taking her eyes of Leonard. "That would be great, thank you, Jax."

"Of course," Jax added, hurriedly. "I'd need to get out of galley duty for a few months. So that I could find the time, you know."

"I'll bet Mick would take your shifts," Ray inserted, slapping Mick on the back. "He's never had any, since he claimed he couldn't cook." He gave Mick a pointed look, scooping a bite of chocolate chip pancake in his mouth.

Mick rolled his eyes, but he didn't seem very bothered. "Fine, if Haircut will be my souse chef," he said.

"No, you don't say the – " Ray started, then sighed, smiling. "Sure, Mick. I'd love to."

"They make a good team," Nate noted, innocently.

Stein stared at him blankly for a moment, before rolling his eyes. "You're blind, you know that, right?" he asked, drily.

Just then, a phone buzzed from the counter. Thea glanced at it, then gasped, her eyes going wide.

"Is that mine?" Sara asked, as Thea snatched the phone up.

"Sara," Thea stammered, ignoring the question. "There's something I have to tell you."

Sara's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

Thea's mouth worked, opening and closing a few times before she could speak. "I sort of…texted your dad last night."

Sara blinked. "What do you mean, 'sort of'?"

"Well," Thea hedged, "I was drunk. Does drunk texting really count?"

"Yes," Sara said, warningly, "it really does. What did you say?"

"Nothing!" Thea insisted. "I just…sent him the video of you and Leonard kissing. And a few exclamation points."

"You what?" Sara hissed.

"I was just excited for you guys!" Thea threw her hands up, watching Sara warily. "He's your dad, I thought he would be excited, too."

Sara rubbed a hand over her face, groaning. "Okay," she said, shaking her head. "What did he text me?"

Thea looked back at the phone, speaking hesitantly. "He said, 'When do I get to meet your new fella? He seems impressive.'"

They all burst out into riotous laughter, even Sara, who laughed so hard that tears sprang to her eyes. "Give me my phone back," she said, "I'll handle it."

Later, when they'd all eaten their fill – and had finished all the mimosas and bloody marys – Felicity stood with Oliver, watching the others getting ready to leave.

"I can't believe all our friends have coupled up," she said. "Iris and Barry are getting married. Caitlin and Harry are too – and they're having a baby. Sara and Leonard can't wait for us to get out of this apartment so they can take their relationship to the next level," she added, smiling wistfully. Barry had spared Cisco from changing the sheets on Leonard's bed, but only so he could make a show of it. He'd claimed his Flash powers still weren't working, taking his sweet time with the job, all the while teasing Leonard mercilessly.

"How about us?" Oliver asked, interrupting Felicity's thoughts. "What's our future look like?"

She blinked at him, doe-eyed, heart stuttering.

"I know you thought I was going to propose again," he said, softly. "Why does that terrify you so much?"

"It doesn't," Felicity said, thoughtfully. "Not exactly. But I know we're going to be together, always, no matter what," she added. "And that's enough for me."

Oliver nodded, although Felicity didn't think he was entirely convinced.

"You know," she added, bumping her shoulder against his. "I'm really glad you were here right when I needed you this morning. I don't know what I would've done without you."

His face softened, his mouth curving into the boyish grin she loved. "I'll always be there with you when you wake up, Felicity. Every morning, from this day on."

She could only roll her eyes at that. But she kissed him, just the same.

Eventually, when the morning had slid away into mid-afternoon, the last of Leonard's "guests" finally left his apartment. He closed the door behind a still-jabbering Ray, waiting to hear the satisfying hiss of the lock before wandering, lazily, back toward Sara. Of course, she'd stayed.

She watched him approaching, her small smile full of anticipation, her blue eyes dark.

"You know I love our friends," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, "but it is nice to be alone."

"Finally," he agreed, breathing in the smell of her, of coffee and bacon and – home – he realized.

But before he could really digest that comforting thought, she pulled back, grabbing her buzzing phone from her pocket.

"It's my dad calling…"

Well, that wouldn't do.

"Your dad, hmm?" Leonard tugged her back to him, stealing a kiss and plucking the phone from her surprised hand.

"Hey!" she complained, but the word just melted against his mouth.

"Forget the phone, Sara," he murmured. "Turn it off for a while."

She laughed as he steered her back toward the bedroom, kissing her between breaths. Sara relaxed, lulling him into a false sense of security before lunging to snatch it back. "He's going to think –"

"That you must be very busy," Leonard said, suggestively, holding the phone out of reach. He knew her too well to be fooled. "He's not here. Right now, it's just me…and you."

"And my dad," she protested, "once he gets here from Star City to knock down your door."

Leonard grinned, dropping the phone in the hall and shutting the bedroom door behind them with a foot. Barry had left a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, and the room was cozy and quiet, the world outside a white haze of falling snow.

"How far is it from Star City again?" he wondered, kissing her before she could answer.

She let him, for a few perfect moments. Then: "Like six hours?" she breathed, blinking up at him, as if she'd almost forgotten the question.

Leonard quirked an eyebrow. "Well then," he said, backing them toward the bed, "we don't have any time to waste."

She chuckled, giving in even as she eyed him reproachfully.

"Something will interrupt us again sooner or later," he added, cradling her face in his hands, watching the way the firelight danced in her eyes. "But I finally have you to myself. Don't think I'm letting you go without a fight."

"Oh really?" she smirked, her hands playing mischievously at the hem of his sweater. "And what's your plan to keep me here, huh?"

The truth was, he'd never planned for this at all. He grabbed one of her hands suddenly, lacing her fingers with his.

"Forget the plan," he whispered, leaning in close.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Just then, Leonard's phone, forgotten in his back pocket, began buzzing distractingly.

"As I was saying," he sighed, slumping. Sara laughed, pulling his phone out before he could. "Who is it?" he wondered.

But she'd already turned it off. "Forget the phone, Leonard," she teased, tossing it to the ground and pushing him onto the bed in one fluid motion. "It's just me…and you."

Leonard grinned, pulling her down with him.

"It's about time."