This is procrastination to the extreme. The prompt came from samanthapetrelli on tumblr.

I hope it's alright...

Felicity's guttural "Oliver Jonas Queen!" was the first thing that he heard as he ran into the room. How she even knew he had arrived was a mystery to him.

"Lis," he breathed out heavily, having taken the stairs three at a time.

"I am so pissed at you right now," she blew a wayward bit of hair out of her face as she leaned heavily on the window sill.

"Hey," he placed a hand on the small of her back and kissed her sweaty cheek.

"Don't talk to me," Felicity put her hand in Oliver's face, looking away from him, a little dramatically if you asked Oliver.

The bathroom door opened and Diggle appeared, his lips pursed as he tried not to smile. Oliver raised a questioning eyebrow and received a shrug in return.

"Help me straighten up," Felicity demanded.

Oliver offered a hand, Felicity gripping it with surprising strength, as he helped her to a standing position.

"How are you fee-"

"No talking."

She steadied herself as both hands went to her stomach. She ran her hands around the giant bulge and then clasped them underneath. Turning away from Oliver, she waddled over to the bed and sat down.

"What's happening?" Oliver directed his question at Diggle.

"Doc said she's failing to progress," Diggle kept his reply short.

"Why? What does that mean?"

"One or both of the babies are too big, she's too small," Diggle explained.

Felicity harrumphed and Oliver regarded her with the same look her had been giving her ever since they met, one of humour and bewilderment.

"She's also contracting ineffectively, probably because of the size of the babies," Diggle continued.

"So, I'm already a rubbish mother and the kids aren't even here yet!" Felicity sobbed.

"Woah, hey," Oliver rushed to her, helping her to her feet and embracing her as best he could.

Felicity cried into his suit jacket, tucking her head under his chin. Oliver was wide eyed, helplessly stroking her back.

Diggle dipped his head and stepped outside the room as Oliver whispered nonsense in Felicity's ears, kissing her temple.

"I'm still pissed at you, your sweet nothings aren't improving your husband points right now," she sniffled, her ear pressed to Oliver's chest.

Oliver smiled to himself, feeling Felicity's stomach move a little.

"Mr and Mrs Queen," a doctor announced herself, entering the room with Diggle in tow.

"Hi," Oliver extended his hand and Felicity returned to her sitting position on the side of the bed.

"I'm Kristin," she smiled, taking Oliver's hand.

"Oliver."

"Getting anywhere, Felicity?" Kristin asked.

"Nowhere fast," Felicity sighed, her shoulders rounding.

"We're probably going to have to hook you up to an IV, keep you dehydrated, plus, it'll be easier to give you some other medication to help put some power behind those contractions," she explained.

"Yep," Felicity nodded, putting her hands on the bed behind her and leaning back.

Oliver sighed, sitting down in the plush chair in the corner of the room.

"We've been here all night, I'm tired," he rubbed his face.

Felicity's head snapped in his direction.

It was in that moment that Oliver could have sworn the skies turned black, the wind picked up and Psycho music started playing.

"Oh man," Diggle's shaking head dropped as he giggled silently to himself.

"Are you kidding me?" she spat. "Do you HEAR yourself? I have two tiny humans trying to claw their way out of my vagina right now!"

As Felicity's rant continued, gaining momentum, Oliver silently berated himself, he definitely should have learned his lesson by now.

The two of them walked hand in hand, bypassing every storefront that wasn't a baby shop. They were headed to Rattle & Stroll, a place that Felicity had earmarked the minute she found out she was pregnant.

Just entering the store was overwhelming for Oliver. He didn't know how he was going to be able to make any decisions with the clucky store assistants buzzing around them the minute they'd walked in.

"How far along are you?" a woman, whose name tag read 'Stacy', asked.

"36 weeks," Felicity replied.

"You're huge, fit to burst!" Stacy exclaimed.

"Twins," Oliver jumped in, picturing Felicity, in all her pregnant glory, gouging Stacy's eyes out with an overpriced plastic Peter Rabbit spoon.

"Oh wow! Well, I'll let you have a look around, just find me or one of my colleagues if you have any questions," she smiled.

Felicity squinted at Stacy's retreating form, scowling.

"'Oh, you're fit to burst!'" Felicity mimicked, "Translation, 'you look like a beached whale'."

"Oh babe," Oliver put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

"You're not going to say that I don't look like a beached whale?" Felicity's bottom lip quivered.

Oliver stuttered, "You, I, ah, Lis."

"Do I look as pregnant as her?" Felicity pointed to a woman who was chatting animatedly with Stacy.

"Lis, you're having twins," Oliver sighed.

She abruptly pulled away from him, tears threatening to spill down her face that was already blotchy with emotion.

"I want to go home," she whispered.

"Babe, you look wonderful, you are growing two babies in there, you kick the butt of every other mother in here with your ability to look beautiful while carrying two Queen kids in there," his hands went to her well pronounced belly.

"Yeah?" she sniffed.

"Yeah."

"Okay," Felicity nodded with new found resolve.

"Right, let's go buy some cribs."

He was brought out of his day dream by Felicity hissing and grabbing the bed sheets on either side of her with white knuckled fists.

"Lis?" Oliver pushed himself out of the chair, rushing over to her.

"Goddamn it, Queen," she growled through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," he kissed her forehead.

She leaned heavily on him, relaxing against his side.

His expensive suit jacket and emerald tie had long since disappeared and he had rolled the cuffs of his crisp white shirt to his elbows.

"Well, they're getting closer and stronger now, so that's good," he offered, stroking her upper arm.

"Are we ready for this?" Felicity spoke up after a moment of silence, tracing the veins up Oliver's forearm.

"Of course! You are going to be a wonderful mother! You are so ready for this Felicity, you've been ready since the first ultrasound."

"But what if they get here, and I'm not ready?"

"Not gonna happen," he replied without missing a beat.

"I trust you, Oliver Queen."

"Good."

"But God help me, if you don't get these two out of me soon, there'll be hell to pay."

Felicity surprised Oliver during the last two hours of her labor. She was quiet, albeit slightly emotionally but, generally speaking, looked a whole lot calmer than Oliver felt.

There was a whispered death threat thrown in when the doctor casually announced that the first twin had suddenly turned the wrong way, but after a quick walk around the ward, they were both facing the right way.

"I'm sorry, but can someone shut that woman up?" Felicity was spitting venom through gritted teeth as she rocked from ball to heel, leaning heavily on the bed.

A woman across the hall was wailing, obviously having a rough labor. Felicity had been keeping a close watch on the comings and goings of women in the maternity ward and she knew for a fact that she had been her the longest. The woman making all the noise had only come in an hour ago.

Felicity beckoned Oliver to come around to the other side of the bed. He squatted down to be at eye level with her, holding her hands in both of his.

"If you don't put a frickin' green arrow in her right now, I will, and I don't care who sees," she hissed.

"Felicity, I love you but-"

"No buts Oliver Queen, not right now! Just make her stop!"

"Felicity, don't worry about anybody else, let's work on getting your two beautiful babies out as soon as we can," the midwife was fixing the foetal monitors around Felicity's stomach.

"I've been working on it," she paused, closing her eyes, silently counting to ten, "for three goddamn days!" she finished with the same amount of vigour as she started.

"Felicity, stay calm, you don't want to panic the babies," Kristin whispered.

"If it weren't for the outrageous stubbornness of that man," Felicity gestured wildly in Oliver's direction, "these devil children would already be out of me!"

Oliver's eyebrows hiked up his forehead as he sat down on the bed, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from smiling.

"I swear to god, Oliver, if your pretty little face breaks out into that charming billionaire smile of yours, I will rip your arms off and beat you to death with them."

That did it for Oliver, he doubled over where he sat, howling with laughter, tears streaming down his face, clutching his stomach.

Diggle was stood in the corner, hand covering his mouth, but his shaking shoulders were a dead giveaway.

Felicity tried to act annoyed, but that only lasted momentarily, as she broke down into a fit of giggles herself. She was so exhausted that her legs threatened to buckle underneath her.

"I don't even know that I'm saying half this stuff until it's out of my mouth," she hiccupped.

"So, nothing out of the ordinary then?" Oliver teased, helping her onto the bed effortlessly with one hand, as the other wiped the tears from his face, and then hers.

Five minutes, after much growling, the aforementioned death threat, a small shout of surprise and Oliver nearly passing out from the sight of his wife's blood, Thomas John Queen arrived, followed three minutes later by Pippa Meredith Queen.