Oliver waits, Walter standing by his side. He had wanted to ask Diggle to stand up with him, but all three of them had agreed that choice might raise eyebrows. And the last thing they need is more curious eyes on them.

Of course the whole conversation would have been moot if Tommy was alive.

Thea had suggested Walter and Oliver quickly agreed. It was a way to bring him back to the family - he had been, after all, a parent to Thea for over five years, and despite his mother's actions in aid of the undertaking Oliver had to agree she'd made a good choice in her second husband.

The ceremony is taking place in the garden of the mansion, with the reception in a large marquee on the lawn. It's a beautiful day, warm sun and blue skies, and Oliver isn't nervous, not really, but he is sweating.

A little.

"Breathe," Walter says softly beside him. "She'll be here."

Oliver cocks an eyebrow at his stepfather.

"I'm not worried about that," he says.

"What then?"

"This is a much larger... production than the last time we did this," Oliver admits. "Felicity didn't realise how big the guest list would be. I mean, I don't know half these people; she barely knows any of them."

"Your sister's doing," Walter nods. "And it was certainly shrewd of her."

"Shrewd?"

"Most of the people you don't know are important to the company," Walter explains, which Oliver had suspected, so it's nice to hear it confirmed. "She's got good instincts for this sort of thing." Walter sounds proud and Oliver can't help but smile.

The guest list aren't the only ones Thea is wooing on behalf of QC. Bringing Walter back would ease a lot of shareholders' worries. Thea seems to have developed a knack for strategic planning on a par with Slade Wilson's.

He certainly wouldn't want to stand in her way.

As if thinking of her conjured his sister into existence, he spies her stepping out of the French doors at the back of the house. She's in a gorgeous strapless dress in dark red, a bouquet of white and red flowers tied with ribbon clutched loosely in her hand.

She holds out her other hand to someone out of sight, inside the door and Oliver feels his chest tighten.

This is it.

This is the moment.

Somewhere off to the side the string quartet starts to play.

And Felicity steps into view, taking Thea's hand for assistance as she steps over the lip of the door.

Unlike her last wedding dress, this one is floor length, simple and elegant. Like Thea's, it's strapless and he can see tiny glints of light as sunshine catches the delicate beading on the bodice.

Felicity's hair is artfully arranged, some curls pinned up while others curl loosely over her shoulders. She's wearing her contacts and he can see the glint of the borrowed antique diamond earrings Thea lent her.

She's a vision of loveliness.

Oliver looks down to see Walter's hand on his arm and realises that he had started to walk towards his wife without even thinking it.

He's peripherally aware of guests turning to look at her or smiling at him but he only has eyes for Felicity as she makes her slow progress down from the house to where he waits. Her father has her arm, beaming proudly and Oliver smiles at the sight.

It's a small wedding party - Felicity asked Thea to be her one and only bridesmaid, and as Oliver couldn't officially ask Diggle to be anything he declined any groomsmen other than Walter.

He glances to the side and sees Diggle, ostensibly on bodyguard duty (for the ceremony only - Felicity and Thea insisted he should be allowed to stand down and enjoy the reception with Carly). He meets the eyes of his brother-in-arms and sees pride there alongside the reassuring stability that makes up the core of the man.

Diggle smiles minutely, the corners of his mouth just barely turning up and nods, his head barely moving.

Oliver returns the gesture. Diggle might not be his best man in name, but in all other regards it is the absolute truth.

Thea walks down the aisle first and accepts a kiss on the cheek from both Oliver and Walter before taking position opposite them.

And then it's Felicity's turn.

The world fades out as she walks towards him and he wonders if this is how it was on that fateful lost day. If this is how he felt when he asked her to marry him in front of a crowd full of strangers, how he felt when he bought the rings, when he kissed her at the chapel. When he made those decisions that changed the course of his life for the better.

His entire world is Felicity Smoak right now - everything else is irrelevant.

He shakes her father's hand then turns to her. She passes her flowers to Thea and her hand slips into his and they turn together to the city official that was the compromise between her mother's demands for a Jewish ceremony and his sister's arguments for Christianity.

Curiously enough, despite the fact he's entirely sober this time, when he looks back later he can't actually remember the details of the ceremony.

All his awareness was taken up with the woman beside him and her hand in his. He can't remember what he promised, what he vowed. He only remembers their fingers intertwined and the taste of her lips when he was finally permitted to kiss his wife.

After the ceremony Diggle ushers them away from the crowd into a quiet room of the house and when the door shuts behind them Oliver lifts Felicity up, holding her up in the air with his hands on her waist and spins them both.

She shrieks, half with dizziness, half with joy and he lowers her far enough that he can kiss her, even though her toes are still several inches off of the ground.

"Ms Smoak," he greets her but she shakes her head.

"Mrs Queen."

And he smiles, and kisses her again as he lowers her back to the ground.

She pulls away from him and turns to Diggle, wrapping her arms around the man's waist before he has a chance to get away.

"Congratulations," Diggle says, his arms full of Felicity.

Oliver steps in and clasps Diggle's shoulder and then Felicity has her arms around both of them and it's a slightly odd three-way hug and Diggle is chuckling while she giggles and Oliver smiles.

"I'm really happy for you guys," Diggle says and Felicity steps back long enough for Diggle to pull Oliver into a half-hug half-back-slap, then leans down to kiss Felicity on the cheek.

"Mr and Mrs Queen," he says and Oliver grins.

"Mr and Mrs Queen," Felicity repeats. "I like the sound of that."

And then there's a receiving line and photographs and Thea is running around ushering them from place to place, occasionally accompanied by an almost smiling Roy (another miracle, Oliver had been sure the kid's features were permanently stuck in a half-scowl), and there's no time to think or eat because there's too much to do and it's only when they take the floor for their first dance that he seems to have time to just breathe and enjoy the feel of his wife in his arms.

Juliette greets them like old friends in the press tent.

"How'd you like the piece?"

"You made me sound like a naïf," Felicity says as she hugs her, "as if birds suddenly appear whenever I am near and unicorns eat from my hands."

"Better an innocent than a gold digger," Juliette says, "and just who is your dress by, Mrs Queen?"

"I have no idea," Felicity grins, "ask my sister-in-law!"

"I will," Juliette grins then checks to make sure that there's no one else within earshot and Oliver just knows he's not going to like the next question. For all of Juliette's friendliness she has an unfortunate talent for finding out things he doesn't want anyone to know.

She doesn't disappoint him.

"So," she asks, "I have a source that told me that this is your official wedding, that you didn't actually get married in Vegas."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Oliver says, "this is just the blessing for our friends and family, we've been married for weeks."

"Uh-huh," Juliette says, obviously unconvinced, "you do know there are records of these sort of things, right Ollie? Certificates. Marriage licenses. Things you only just signed today."

"Juli," Oliver wheedles, "I don't have any more exclusives to give you."

"Ollie, Ollie, Ollie, when will you learn not to doubt me? I've got something you can answer to keep that nugget under wraps." She meets his eye and grins even wider. "What do the tattoos mean?"

"What?"

"You might not have tied the actual knot in Vegas," Juliette says knowingly, "but you did something else pretty permanent. Both of you. And c'mon Ollie, next time you're pictured without your shirt - and that used to be a bi-weekly event-"

"I knew I couldn't blame that on the island," Felicity whispers in his ear and he laughs.

"Next time you're publicly shirtless," Juliette says, "there'll be photos and speculation. Give me the skinny now and I'll let you celebrate whatever date you want as your anniversary."

Oliver turns to Felicity. Her eyes are bright, slightly drunk on champagne and endorphins. She's tucked under his arm, with one of her own wrapped around his waist and the other holding her shoes by the straps.

He raises an questioning eyebrow at Felicity and she nods.

"I have to admit, I'm pretty curious about that myself," she says, "you never really explained it."

Oliver looks to Juliette, willing her not to have heard that and she rolls her eyes and nods.

"You've got to keep her away from my more unscrupulous colleagues, Ollie."

"I'd like to keep her away from all of you."

Juliette inclines her head as if to say "touché".

"Now," she says, "tattoos."

"It means partnership," he says, "it's about two different halves that come together as one complete symbol. Either without the other is less. Together they're stronger. Balanced. A perfect match."

"Okay," Juliette says, "can I see it?"

"No," he says, "the only person I'm stripping for tonight is my wife. You'll have to wait for the next time I take my shirt off in front of a photographer."

"Well, I'm sure I won't have to wait too long," Juliette teases.

"I need to get my wife back to the party," Oliver says, stepping back from Juliette to address the whole tent.

"Ollie!" Voices call.

"Felicity!"

"Mrs Queen!"

Oliver pulls Felicity back with him and she presses herself against his side, looking at the press almost shyly.

"No more questions," Oliver says.

"How about a kiss?" A photographer calls.

Oliver grins down at Felicity and she smiles at him and tilts her face up to his.

Cameras flash as they kiss and then they flash even more as he sweeps her up in his arms and carries her out of the tent.

He's half blind from all the lights but he trusts his feet and he knows this path and he's able to get them back to the house easily enough.

Her hand comes up to stroke his cheek and he finally breaks the kiss and pulls back to see her curled against his chest, eyes dark, skin flushed.

They're alone in the mansion's entrance hall.

"I have very strong feelings Felicity," he says, softly.

"Me too, Oliver," she smiles, "I love you too."

"I'm very happy," he says, "that you're my wife. That I get to be your husband."

She reaches for him and he sees the rings on her hand - the plain gold with the arrow head engraving from Las Vegas and the solitaire diamond flanked by tiny emeralds that he gave her today.

She's wearing his rings and she's taken his name and she's here in his arms, in his house, in his life.

And she will be for the rest of their lives.

"Shouldn't we be dancing?" She whispers. "Not that I'm complaining, I'm not that great a dancer."

"You're perfect," he says.

"You only think that because I've never broken your toes on a dance floor," she teases.

"I look forward to every time you step on my feet," he says.

"I'll remind you of that later."

He kisses her again and thinks of a partnership that's more than just love, more than just one part of his life, a partnership that runs through everything.

And will do 'til death do us part.

And so he carries her back to the party, but mindful of his feet (and because he likes to tease her) he doesn't actually put her down on the dance floor. Instead he holds her up in the air, so her feet never touch the ground, and so when they dance together it looks like she's dancing on air.

Notes: And here we are, the end of the story. I hope you've all enjoyed it, especially as it certainly grew in the telling... Thanks for all of your lovely comments. Reading the comments has been really helpful and kept me going. We might not have gotten here if you hadn't all said such nice things. So seriously, thank you.