15269/How About Sushi

How About Sushi
Date of Scene:	30 June 2023
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Oliver and Felicity's dinner plans change when 'command center' setup delays their departure, and it turns out to be a better option, anyway.
Cast of Characters:	Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen

---

Felicity Smoak has posed:
19:24 HRS, Day 1
'Arrow Advance Team'
NYC Forward Operating Base (FOB)
--------------------------------

"What time is it?"

Felicity sounds nervous as she hurriedly steps out of the penthouse guest room, conveniently located right beside Oliver's master bedroom. She's wearing a little black cocktail tress cut in a 'skater dress' style -- the bodice clings to her, scooping flatteringly across her chest, but the skirt is loose and playful, swishing just above her knees. On her feet, a pair of strappy black heels, and she's marching over towards the 'command center' she'd set up that morning even as she fastens a dangly silver ear ring into her lower lobe.

It doesn't become apparent that the back of the dress isn't zipped all the way until she's leaning over her keyboard, fingers flying, and the top of an intriguing, black lace bodice of some sort peeks just in the 'V' of fabric left splayed open.

After a glorious time splashing around in the balcony infinity pool with Oliver earlier in the afternoon, Felicity had gotten so relaxed that she'd come full circle back around to letting her mind wander to their 'Temporary Arrowcave' setup. Well, it wasn't really a cave. It was more of an 'Arrowsuite.'

Anyway, as she was drying off, she got the idea to start pen-testing the various city and state networks she'd need in a few days and started running her own automated scripts to establishing some easy-to-access backdoors. She came to New York with the big names done -- she was already in all of the national databases and everything she needed for Starling City. But this was New York. Having a Command Center wouldn't do anyone any good if she couldn't get into the city street cameras, traffic signals, power grid, road maintenance schedule, building records, rail system, subway system, etc.

But now she was running late. Specifically, she was making /both/ of them run late for their 7:45PM dinner reservation that they would be lucky to make even if she grabbed the little black clutch purse she laid out and took the stairs two at a time. The fact that she was holding them up was not lost on her, and the tension can be heard in her voice -- as well as her vain attempts to complete too many tasks at once, which was resulting in careless mistakes (like forgetting to zip up your dress all the way).

(In truth, given that they were on the top floor of the high-rise, it was still faster to wait for the elevator -- especially considering the penthouse had a priority lift that went straight up and down from the garage to the top floor.)

Oliver Queen has posed:
All things considered, Oliver is doing a fairly good job of embracing the whole idea of being on vacation.

He thought it owuld be a little more of a struggle, truth be told. That's no real surprise, he has simply gotten used to the fact that he is usually busy. Admittedly, now that night has fallen the real temptation might begin. He's probably not the sort who could simply stand aside in the case of emergency, even knowing that New York City has more heroes located in a relatively compressed area then probably any other place on the planet. A single archer standing aside for one night is not likely to make much of a difference.

But he's not really built that way.

Still, so far so good on the relaxation front. The pool was rather delightful, between the views, the cool waters, the hot sun and the company. Especially the company. It's definitely a good thing that this little mission has come up during the warmer, summer months.

Indeed, such a good time was had that Oliver promptly came in and had a nap.

Everyone deals with relaxation a little differently. While Felicity felt compelled to tinker with the elaborate setup already in place, to make sure all her preparations are in good order, Ollie dried off, got changed and lay down for just a moment.

And somehow two-plus hours just passed by.

It is not like he never naps of course. Living alone, on an island for all that time taught him the value of getting his sleep where he could. And he certainly doesn't keep anything close to conventional hours these days. Still, it's not very often that his schedule lets him simply drift off without a seeming care.

He probably shouldn't get used to it.

Of course, it also means -- from a certain point of view at least -- that he is pretty much responsible for them running behind schedule. Sure, when he did wake up -- still with plenty of time to reasonably get ready for dinner -- he poked his head out of the bedroom. He quite clearly saw Felicity working away on the computer system. And he just called out a reminder that she might want to start getting ready before vanishing to take a shower and get cleaned up himself.

Really, he should have known better. It's not entirely clear just what he might have been thinking. And now they can both reap what he sowed.

So he stands out in the living room, watching as Felicity rushes about with a certain bemusement, properly cleaned up. Well, mostly anyway. That stubble marking his face never seems to entirely disappear. But he looks reasonably put together in dark green and tan.

Everything is done up to, so that's a plus.

While the entertainment value is pretty high at the moment, Oliver does decide to intervene at last, coming up behind Felicity and laying hands gently on her shoulder. "It's seven-forty. They'll either hold the table for us or they won't. Worse comes to worst we'll have to go eat at one of the hundred other amazing restaurants within walking distance," he says with a wry smile. "Now hold still for just a moment," he adds.

And he proceeds to zip her up.

Hands slide around her, resting folded over her stomach as he draws her in close to him, head tilting to press a soft kiss to the nape of her neck. And then another. "Whatever you've got on under that dress looks intriguing. Very intriguing," he murmurs teasingly.

Then, flashing a wicked grin her way, Ollie holds out his hand. "C'mon. It's a short walk at least so we might not be doomed to wander the streets of the city, desperately searching for something to sate our hunger."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
On the whole, Felicity's jewelry collection was mostly costume pieces in various colors and styles, but it did contain a few small, expensive, signature pieces (a couple of small diamond solitaires and diamond-crusted tanzanite) that she'd purchased since (reluctantly) accepting her position as Oliver's Executive Assistant.

It wasn't the raise that convinced her. Oliver himself had done that. But the extra money hadn't been the worst thing in the world. Not only had it given her the freedom to replace some of her old furniture, she'd expand her wardrobe (always from sales of designer labels from the prior 2-5 years) and her jewelry collection. She'd always been stylish, but she didn't break the bank to be the 'trendiest' out there. When you grow up with a single mom working sixty hours a week to raise her daughter on tips, you learn how to stretch a dollar.

All of that to say that Felicity's accessories are as tasteful as they always are, and she's made a point to leave the costume jewelry at in her room. Around one wrist is a slender, white gold and diamond-chip tennis bracelet that matches the dangling earrings she'd just finished securing before she started typing.

She's pulled her hair up into an elaborate up-do rather than her usual ponytail so that it shows off the slender curve of her neck, and her makeup is more subdued than it is for work -- neutral-red lips, bronze eyeshadow. It's all a statement.. an intentional decision to come as close as she can to looking like she belongs on the arm of a billionaire in a restaurant in New York rather than at the small desk in front of his office.

She's standing at the desk, bent slightly forward so she can type when he finds her, and the way his hands settle on her shoulders sends a shiver down the length of her spine.

"I'm sorry," she insists softly. "I just thought I could finish this one last..."

There was no world in which Felicity considered any amount their tardiness to be Oliver's fault. She certainly wasn't about to blame him for not being her time keeper or walking alarm clock. All four screens were full of running processes, streams of code and numbers scrolling past like something out of The Matrix. But then that zipper is crawling up her spine, and as if drawn up by a puppeteer's command, she gasps and stands up straight, a blush touching her cheeks.

"Thank you..."

And then his hands arms around her, hands pressing against the flat of her tummy, drawing her back against his chest, into the warmth and the safety of him that she was finally beginning to accept as something /normal/ that she could count on.. something that wouldn't be taken away again after a night, or two nights, or even two weeks.

She leans back, her own hands settling atop his arms, nails raking gently across the backs of his hands as her head leans to expose more of her neck to him.

"If you play your cards right, maybe you'll satisfy that curiosity after dinner," she teases mildly, one hand rising to reach back over her shoulder and touch his cheek. As much as she was looking forward forward to everything that was about to happen -- the dinner /and/ the dessert -- she still clung to him for reassurance. As fiercely independent as she could be, Oliver's affection and approval still meant more to her than anyone else on the planet.

But then he's holding out his hand, and with a final look back at her screen, she gives up on any hope of finishing what she'd started. It was good enough that it was running and it would continue to run. These things took time.

Instead of lingering, Felicity locks the screen and slips her hand into Oliver's with a broad smile, a hint of danger flashing in her eyes. No glasses tonight. "Luckily, I don't have to look very far," she muses. She snags the black clutch purse off of the corner of her desk, tucking it under her arm, and then she's with him, happy to be gazing up at him on their way out.

Oliver Queen has posed:
It's not like he is completely computer illiterate. In a pinch he can generally manage to find the information he needs, or pull up the various apps to check out satellite feeds, or run comms.

He's a pretty good hand at most videogames too. Lets hear it for hand-eye coordination.

But he is nowhere near on her level. Still, he has picked up a few things from sheer osmosis, just by being in her orbit. And while he will never have the same level of fascination or skill with them that Felicity does, he has certainly come to apprciate how much easier they -- or rather she -- makes what he does.

So he is pretty okay if they make them a little late for dinner in this case.

It's not exactly a small job afterall, bringing everything up to speed on a new rig, making sure that they will have access to everything that they need while they are in New York. And while it might take a little time now, to get everything setup, it is almost guaranteed to come in handy over and over again while they are here. A small price to pay.

No sooner is that computer locked then they are out the door as it were and into that private, express elevator. Definitely much quicker then taking the stairs. "Cards huh? Fortunately I'm pretty good with card tricks," Oliver asserts with a slow smile before wiggling fingers playfully at her. "It's all the manual dexterity," he asserts with a nod, managing to keep a straight face.

The elevator ride might be swift, but it still gives him a little more time to take her in. Not that he didn't have the chance to do so back in the penthouse, though she is surely a little mroe composed now that the last, harried attempts to bring everything on line with the computer systems has been put to rest. At least temporarily.

One hand slides itself into hers, fingers entwining there with her own. "You're looking particularly beautiful tonight," he points out, eyes glinting as they meet hers. "Not the last time you are going to hear that I promise you, and not that you're anything but in my eyes at any time," he adds with a grin. "But it bears repeating. A few dozens times or so, I figure," he says before lifting that same hand, drawing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

He is on his best behavior. He hasn't even considered politely mussing up her hair and makeup afterall the effort she has gone to.

Well, not /seriously/ considered it at any rate.

The lift chimes as the door slides open and they are out into the lobby, past the doorman at a fairly brisk place and out into the still sultry heat that hangs over New York. The sun is blotted out by the towering buildings to the west, but the city is still suffused by that early evening glow, a reddish tint filling the sky thanks to that slowly dying light.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
"I didn't know..." /It's all the manual dexterity./ "..oh... OH."

Nervous laughter fills the elevator car as the implications of Oliver's exceptionally strong, skilled digits really starts to settle in, and it sends a noticeable shudder of anticipation down the entire length of her spine.

"Some people think it's all skill, but unless you're counting cards, there's actually quite a bit of luck that goes into playing poker because the probably of drawing one pair is forty-two percent, but the probably of drawing /two/ pair is actually less than /five/ percent with each subsequent higher ranking hand being statistically less..."

Yeah. She's nervous. But when Oliver's fingers interlace with hers, it derails that train of thought and brings her eyes back up to his. She's smiling, and though the nerves are as plain for him to see as the color of her eyes, there's also happiness.. happiness that shines bright enough to light up the city.

"Thank you." It's such sincere, heart-breaking gratitude after those compliments. Her voice is barely above a whisper, and there's such a mixture of affection, excitement, and apprehension.

"/You/... I don't even have words for. Handsome doesn't begin to do you justice. But it's.. so much more than that. I was thinking about the day you first brought that laptop full of holes into my cubicle." She laughs softly. "You're /such/ a bad liar. And how much, even then, I wanted to... you know." She shakes her head. "I mean /know you/. And you and Diggle with that stupid vial that I /knew/ wasn't a hangover cure. Next thing I knew, you were in the back of my car.. trying to die on me before I ever got a chance to really meet you."

She pauses, then, as the elevator begins to slow.

"So, thank you for giving me the chance to know you. You are so much more than I realized, and I am so grateful that you've let me in."

*Ding*

The elevator doors open, and though Felicity's eyes got a little glassy during that, she gave his hand a squeeze and tucked herself in against his side once they were out, letting her shoulder rest lightly against him as they walk.

"...What I was saying about the cards earlier was that your odds of getting lucky tonight are /way/ higher than forty-two percent," she sides as they walk, looking over at him with a mischievous smile.

Oliver Queen has posed:
While perhaps not, in the grand scheme of things, it certainly feels like it has been something of a long -- sometimes strange -- trip from that moment he first sought her out, looking for her aid. He certainly didn't expect his life to take quite the path it did when he first did a little checking into her and decided she was the best option to get a little assistance from.

Such a small decision and yet such a big impact. There is definitely a lesson there. Fortunately for him, it's one that he has taken more than a little pleasure in learning.

"I'm not a bad liar," Oliver protests mildly before pausing for a moment. "Okay, I can be pretty good at the deception and misdirection thing when I need to be. It's just you that seems to bring out my more honest side," he counters with just a hint of a smile spreading over his expression. "Besides, those stories weren't really all that bad. There were some very credible components," he insists.

He would just be hard pressed to name one. Yeah, okay, they were pretty bad.

It is a nice little trip down memory lane to be sure, and listening to her thank him makes his expression soften ever so slightly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze in turn. "You most definitely don't have to thank me. Whether it was luck or fate that brought me through your door that evening, well, I think it worked out pretty well for both of us," he points out, fingers lingering around her own.

It's probably better not to dwell on where he might have otherwise ended up. He was definitely heading down a much darker road, one where death could have very easily have become a constant companion. Definitely one where there would not have been anywhere near as many pleasant interludes as this little vacation in New York has had.

And it's just barely begun.

The streets are still busy, especially this close to the park and more then a few people are like them; out to enjoy the evening. There is certainly no lack of options to do so and though they might be running just a little late, Oliver is not in any hurry to rush on, content to stroll at her side, arm in arm.

A slow grin slides over his expression though as the talk of probabilities turn from cards to other, much more enjoyable pursuits. "You don't say," he murmurs archly, eyes glinting once more as he looks her way, more then a little heavy with anticipation. "Well, I have to say that I definitely like those odds..."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
"Me, too," Felicity admits about the odds, eyes never leaving his. For that long moment, she was so enthralled by looking up at him that she'd simply let him guide her without paying any attention at all to where they were going. It takes her a moment, once she's actually broken her gaze away from his face, to look around the street and realize they'd actually made it all the way through the lobby.

"Oh! It's.. wow. It's busy. But also... pretty." The sky was beautiful with the evening colors. The buildings all stood tall, rising up and towering into that perfect canvas.

They stroll for a little while with Felicity lightly clinging to his arm, enjoying the strength as much as she was ensuring she didn't accidentally catch a dip in the sidewalk wrong and roll her ankle or trip into a rain grate. Eventually, the restaurant comes into view in the distance, its name visible on the sleek, elegant sign in elaborate script. It was one of those five-star places where you had to know someone that knew someone to get a reservation this year, the courses were fancier than they were practical, and dishes were absolutely unpronounceable.

"You know..."

It's the first thing she's said in a full minute or two.

"I know I kind of... derailed plans this morning. And... then I sort of derailed plans this afternoon. And.. I was just thinking..."

She slows, tugging him to a stop and turning to face him.

"I know we got dressed up and we were supposed to have this long, elaborate six course dinner that was going to cost more than my apartment, but..." She bites her lip, adding a hopeful lift to her eyebrows. "How would you feel about helping me take my hair down, eating at that street sushi place right there," she up-nods her chin towards a place over his shoulder, "maybe taking a short walk through the park, and then calling it an early night?"

Oliver Queen has posed:
Star City will always be his home. He wouldn't trade it for anywhere else in the world.

But there is definitely something to be said for travel, for getting out and about, seeing other places and even experiencing the routine -- or the spectacular, depending on one's view -- like sunsets from a different angle, a different perspective that is truly special.

Even with the traffic and the chatter of people out on the street, the rustle of the breeze through the trees across the street is something of a siren's call, there's no denying that.

It is not as if Oliver is completely without a palette when it comes to fine dinning. He has been around it for most of his life afterall. But he's not exactly what one would call a picky eater, not anymore certainly. It is probably best not to inquire too closely about some of the things he subsisted on while he was on Lian Yu. There is definitely something to be said for a simplier fare. And coupled with the chance to enjoy the weather instead of being cooped up inside?

It isn't exactly a tough negotiation to sell him on the idea.

"Works for me," Oliver agrees at once, casting a smile her way and turns with her at his side towards the nearest cross walk and the various vendors that seem to gather outside the various entrances to the park.

"It's the nice thing about being on vacation afterall," he points out, grin slowly crawling over his features, tugging the corners of his mouth upward. "There are no plans that we cannot abandon at a drop of the hat. Especially when we get a better offer."

Maybe he's biased, but this definitely qualifies.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Felicity beams, and once they're waiting at the crosswalk, she stretches one arm up -- the other still had her clutch tucked under her elbow -- to Oliver's shoulder and pulling herself up to give him a kiss, eyes shining with warmth.

"That was easy," she muses. "Maybe I should bring up a raise while you're in a good mood..."

With a wink, though, she settles back beside him and slips her arm back into his.

The sushi place isn't far, and it's all street-side seating... bar stools all in a row with a good view of the kitchen and the two sushi chefs making orders fresh for the customers.

"You know, I've heard sushi's an aphrodisiac," Felicity says as she claims one of the two remaining stools, conveniently located side by side, and places her purse on the counter in front of her.

The older man on the other side of her turns to look at her, and she meets his gaze with a little, apologetic smile. "I didn't mean for you," she says, hooking her thumb up to gesture to Oliver. "I mean for him. Not that I needs it with him, you know?" She grins, but then she suddenly shakes her head. "Not that either of you..." She leans forward a little to see what is presumably his wife on the other side -- a very nice older lady. "Hi. I'm just going to.. let you both enjoy each other. Your /company/, I mean."

Felicity's hand comes up to touch the side of her face and she turns to face Oliver with a 'kill me now' smile on her lips, lowering her voice. "Why am I like this?"

Oliver Queen has posed:
There are many, many advantages to ditching the fancy restaurant and grabbing some good street food instead.

For one it is a truly lovely evening, that slight breeze whistling along the canyon like streets of the city, ot tustling through the nearby trees, most definitely adds just a hint of relief from the early evening heat that still clings to the city, that makes its presence known. But perhaps more then that, it makes a little polite mussing not only acceptable, it makes it down right desirable. Oliver is definitely in favor of that.

Her hair is no sooner let down then his hand is slipping from her own momentarily, sliding up to the nape of her neck to lightly play through the strands there, leaning over to find her lips for a quick, soft kiss as they reach the far side of the cross walk and the black iron rail that runs the length of the sidewalk until it opens up to one of the entrances to the park.

By the time that they near the sushi place with it's scattering of seats out and about -- offering both a view of the kitchen and those who walk by -- his hand is back in hers.

"In all fairness, anytime is probably a good time for that discussion," Ollie admits with a wry smile. "All the things you do for the company probably adds up to more than I do," he conceeds. Not that he is incapable of making the odd brilliant decision or two. But business is most definitely a sideline for him and while his growing maturity has made him much more fit for the role then it appeared he would ever be before his disappearance, he's not about to deny the value that she brings to the table.

Before they can dive into that however, there is her little exchange with the older couple that is already seated at the counter, and the corners of Oliver's mouth start to twitch once more. She tries to dig herself out of that hole -- real or imagined -- that she has put herself in. She really does. It is a noble effort, at the very least.

"Because you are completely adorable," he asserts, giving in, letting that grin reemerge onto his features as he gives her hand a little squeeze. "And I for one wouldn't have you any other way," he asserts genuinely.

"Now, tell me... what of these many fine selections do you think is most likely to serve as an aphrodisiac?" he asks slyly.

Just for scientific curiousity of course. No ulterior motives or anything.

Felicity Smoak has posed:
Once her hair comes down and Oliver's fingers slip into it, Felicity's eyes sink closed, savoring that feeling. There really was nothing quite like the way Oliver touched her -- certainly nothing that sent those wonderful shivers through her body as frequently or noticeably. Her fingers readily slip into his at every opportunity, and those kisses? She's there for every one he offered.

Later, he's asking her about her thoughts on the most likely aphrodisiac, and she's grinning, though.

"For me? Or for you? Because I already have mine, and he's not on the menu."

Felicity shrugs faintly. "Normally, I'd just order a Rainbow Roll and be done, but tonight I'm just going to have chef's choice," she says. "Today has been an amazing day. It's hard to believe I woke up in my apartment. I've been on a private jet, made progress in setting up our.. branch office, tracked down a lead, spent the afternoon with a fantastic guy, and tonight..."

Her eyes slide down him and back up again, meeting his gaze directly, smiling.

"Tonight is getting even better."

Her hand slips across the counter, though, fingers sliding across the back of his hand. She looked a little out of place in her black cocktail dress, sitting at a walk-up sushi counter, but she didn't seem to mind that at all.

"You /do/ know the crack about the raise was a joke, right?" She grins. "It's hard enough to keep everything we do straight without adding the whole dating my boss thing into it, because I don't ever want you to feel like that has anything to do with the way I feel about you."

Oliver Queen has posed:
It's true. The most definitely look as if they should be at the fancy restaurant they had originally made plans at and then off to Midtown to take in a show, or off to the Met. Taking in something avant garde, no doubt. But sidewalk sushi and a walk in the park? Not quite.

Still, it doesn't bother Oliver any more then it apparently does her. They are getting a night out together. What more do they need then that?

He gives a little laugh at her gambit, lips curling in appreciation once more, drawing that hand to his lips once more, brushing them across her knuckles in a light caress. "Well played Miss Smoak. Well played," he murmurs lightly, dancing eyes meeting her own. "You're right of course. I suppose I have mine too," he agrees. "Everything else is just icing on the cake."

He glances away only briefly, long enough to put in their order -- two chef's choices -- before glancing back her way, fingers still entwined, unwilling to surrender his hold on her hand.

"You're not wrong about that. It has made for a very nice change of pace," he agrees, quirking a smile once more. "And the company has definitely been beyond reproach. I think your assessment is definitely right on target. The night is getting even better. And I'm something of an expert on hitting the mark," he points out with a wink.

Her asssurance that she's not dating him because he is her boss draws another laugh, squeezing her hand lightly in his own once more. "Oh, I know. You might just be about the most sincere, genuine person I've ever met Felicity. That doesn't change the fact that your work is first rate. In all our endeavors," he points out. While neither of them might tackle his noctural activities for a paycheck, or heck, even for the recognition, they have become part of a rather formidable team.

"I'v never doubted you. There's just something about you that won't allow it."

Felicity Smoak has posed:
/You might just be about the most sincere, genuine person I've ever met Felicity./

"Thank you, for saying that. And if you trust me, then you shouldn't minimize your own contributions to the company," she says, something about the sincerity in his own compliments spurring her on. It seemed to resolve her to some conclusion about whether or not to say something, and she apparently landed on the side of saying it.

She squeezes his fingers, content just to talk with him while they wait for the food.

"We have /both/ worked very hard for the company, but /you/ are the CEO. And it's doing well. All things considered? For as much as we've been through and the company has been through? It should be doing worse -- much worse. But it's not, and it's because of your leadership."

If Oliver Queen ever had a single doubt about who his biggest cheerleader was... well.. John Diggle was going to have to take a seat.

"You deserve to take credit. /Yes/, I've helped. And I will always be there to help you. But you've been through so much, and look at you. Here. Now. You deserve to be proud of that."

Oliver Queen has posed:
There shall be no self-deprication while Felicity Smoak is around! Not from him. Not if she has anything to say about it.

Of course the measure of success can be relative. In the corporate world, more often then not it is entirely based upon if profits are meeting consistent, double-diget growth and share prices are rising accordingly. That, admittedly, is not necessarily the focus of Oliver Queen's reign over Queen Consolidated. From that particular vantage point it is not entirely unfair to question his suitability for the big seat.

But if one accepts that his priorities might be a little different from the standard, cut-out businessman then it might cloud the issue just a little bit.Certainly one area in which Oliver has exceeded the legacy left by either of his parents would be in turning his family's company in a more socially conscious direction. In being concerned with leaving a legacy of good, of improving the lives of the citizens of Star City and now beyond.

Of course he could have taken a different direction, could have focused on creating an outside foundation to run charitable operations through while leaving the business with more freedom to pursue the bottom line -- even if it had to hold to higher ethical standards then some of its competitors. That's certainly the tact that a certain fellow billionaire in Gotham has taken. And certainly his Board of Directors would probably be happier if he was a little more hands off, leaving the day to day affairs in the hands of those truly aligned to business interests.

But just because he has an 'Arrowcave' and an 'Arrowplane' does not mean he has to copy every single thing Bruce Wayne does, damnit!

While he can be a little cynical at times, she makes it difficult, and a smile slides over Oliver's face at Felicty's absolute vehemence on the subject. "Yes ma'am. Understood," he says with twinkling eyes, leaning across that small gap between them to steal a quick kiss. "You really are the best. And probably the most supportive girlfriend I could ask for," he says. "Well, no probably about it actually," he admits with a quiet laugh.

As the orders are slid out in front of them, Oliver nods to man before turning his gaze back to his date. "Are right, dig in. You're going to need every last bit of your energy tonight," he says with a wicked grin, indifferent to the fact that the older couple seated next to them is probably listening in to their every word.

Not that they need to of course. One glance their way and it should be readily apparent what the pair of them have on their minds.