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It was turning out to be a good morning. The interruption came in form of Oliver’s phone ringing from the other room. “I should get that,” the archer muttered against Slade’s lips. The words were halfhearted to say the least. The Australian, still lying over him, propped up on his elbows, made a quiet noise of disagreement.
“It’s probably not important,” he replied.
“You’d say that about anything,” Oliver retorted, but he made no move to get up. Slade dipped his head down to kiss along Oliver’s neck, and the archer tipped his chin upward. The movements were lazy, the warmth and stillness of morning luring them both into a relaxed state. Oliver traced the rises of muscle in Slade’s back, feeling every small shift under his palm. He traced the lines of scars, all of them recent, Oliver knew, as the Mirakuru had worked to heal the old marks that had marred Slade’s body. He had amassed quite a few from the fight and subsequent explosion on Lian Yu alone. His help there had been priceless, but he had also acted with seeming little care for his own wellbeing.
Slade seemed to sense the drop in his mood. He paused, shifting to look down into Oliver’s eyes. The archer ran a hand over his back, lifting his head enough to bring their lips together. He parted his own lips, welcoming Slade in and deepening the kiss. He nipped at Slade’s bottom lip as the Australian’s hand traveled down his side. Oliver took advantage of his distraction, twisting his body to roll them both over-
The phone rang again, the noise loud and disruptive and reluctantly, they both parted, Slade’s head dropping down with a resigned chuckle. Oliver sighed in mild frustration.
“Maybe you should get that,” Slade relented.
“Yeah,” Oliver sat upright. He pushed himself out of bed, stooping to collect his pants off the floor and pull them on. “Rude to stare.” He told Slade without turning around, sensing the other’s gaze. He heard the small laugh from the older man. He left the bedroom, skirting around the broken glass and walking into the kitchen and collecting his phone from the counter, answering it. “This is Oliver.” He said, turning to lean against the counter. He glanced back towards the bedroom, seeing movement as Slade collected his shift from the floor, pulling it over his head.
“Hey,” an unfamiliar woman’s voice answered his greeting, she sounded rushed. “This is Denise, I’m Clarence’s mother.” She sounded decidedly American. Clarence, of course, was the friend who had invited William to sleep over. Who picked that name for their kid, Oliver had no idea, but the two boys got along well.
“Is William alright?” he asked, both worried and taken aback by the call. Slade stepped out, casting him a questioning look.
“Oh he’s fine!” Denise reassured him. “He’s such an angel. But he just realized this morning he forgot his science project for today. We’re less than two minutes away from you so don’t worry.”
Shit!
“Great,” Oliver said. “I’ll go get it. Thank you.” He hung up abruptly tossing the phone onto the countertop and rushing past Slade back into the bedroom, pulling on a clean shirt and shoes quickly. The Australian watched him.
“Doesn’t sound as though you really find the situation ‘great’,” he commented. Oliver cast him a withering look.
“Do you enjoy this?” Oliver asked sarcastically. “William forgot his science project,” he rushed into his son’s room, finding it quickly and setting it on the table. Slade’s lips quirked faintly.
“Unfortunate.” He commented. The archer glared at him, but before he could think up a response, someone knocked on the door.
“Bedroom,” Oliver hissed at Slade. The Australian made no effort to hide his amusement, holding up both hands and turning to retreat into the bedroom. Oliver started towards the door then stopped, seeing Slade’s jacket, he snatched it off the floor and opened the bedroom door, hurling the jacket in forcefully before shutting it again. Slade laughed. “Oh shut up.” Oliver muttered. He moved towards the apartment door, pulling it open. At once, William bounced in, rushing past Oliver. “It’s on the counter!” Oliver called after him. He turned to the blonde still standing in the doorway, one hand on her son’s shoulder. “You’re Denise?” He asked, holding out his hand. She took it. Her skin was smooth, pink nails perfectly manicured. She was tall, with a fair complexion, classic blue eyes, and her hair permed and short. She wore a dress the same color as her nails, with heels so high they were basically daggers.
“And you,” she smiled widely. “Must be Oliver. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Clarence dearly enjoys spending time with your son and William is such a sweet boy.” Oliver dropped his hand, casting a subtle glance back to make sure the bedroom door was closed.
“Sure, thanks,” he said, the abrupt words coming off awkwardly. “Would you like to come it?” Oliver invited with some measure of hesitation. “I need to check on William and make sure he has everything.”
“We’d love to!” she flounced past him, pulling Clarence along. “You’ve done such a great job of raising him, especially with no mother, poor child. It’s perfectly understandable you’d be overwhelmed. I usually set all of Clarence’s supplies out the night before.” It was fortunate she was still facing away from him, as Oliver wasn’t quite able to contain his expression. His eyebrows lowered in confusion and he opened his mouth, head tipping to one side before he decided better of it. Clarence, however, saw the movement and giggled quietly. “And you must have so much going on for work,” she added, turning. “William is so lucky to have you.” There was a solid thud from Oliver’s bedroom. He flashed Denise a practiced smile, her eyes had just settled on the fallen lamp.
“I’ll be right back,” he walked towards William’s room, intentionally knocking his fist against the wall as he passed his own bedroom. William was in a flurry of movement, casting aside books as he searched his desk frantically. “Hey, Will,” Oliver started. “Have everything?” William stilled, reading the side of a book before he glanced up at Oliver.
“Yes,” he said, then rushed out of the room, sliding to a stop next to his project. He took it down carefully, cradling it, before he glanced between Oliver and Denise. “Sorry,” he apologized meekly. “I forgot it was due today.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Oliver reassured him. “I’ll take you to school.”
“Oh, I can take him,” Denise volunteered immediately. “I always drop of Clarence -I just can’t stand the idea of him being on a bus, and I can’t believe most parents just throw away those extra minutes with their child. I’m sure you have a lot to do with being mayor and all.” It took Oliver a few seconds to process that. William looked at him, expression hopeful.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he said honestly. She smiled again as she started shepherding the two boys to the door. “And thanks for letting William stay over.”
“It was no trouble at all!” she insisted. “It’s nice to see Clarence playing with someone. Next time he visits, I hope his father can stay for a little.” The suggestion didn’t go over Oliver’s head, and he resorted to his press smile in response. William waved goodbye as he and Clarence bolted down the hallway, the gesture forcing Denise to turn. “Be careful! Don’t drop anything!” She hurried after them. It was nice to see William getting along with someone and acting like a kid. He closed the door, breath escaping him as he turned around slowly. Slade leaned casually in the doorframe.
“She seemed…dubious of your fatherly skills,” the Australian commented dryly. “Though undoubtedly less uncertain of some other talents you might have.” The archer shook his head, banning the topic.
“Multitasking,” Oliver said shortly, not quite managing to stop his small laugh. “Now out.” Oliver would have pushed him out, but privately, he felt that would just end in him pushing Slade back into bed. The Australian languidly followed him to the door, amused as always by Oliver’s suffering.
“Oh, but I’m sure she’d love to give you some advice on parenting. Most likely in a one on one setting.” He added and Oliver cast him a withering look. He didn’t need his social life brought into one of their conversations. Oliver didn’t want Slade to have a say over who he dated. Just like Oliver definitely wasn’t bothered by the fact the Australian seemed completely undisturbed by the woman’s flirting.
There was no logical reason for Oliver to be upset by that. Their ‘situation’ was complicated, to say the least. They weren’t exclusive. This wouldn’t even be a long term thing…just one night to deal with the consequences alcohol had on both of them. It wasn’t going to be a thing.
Oliver reached the door, taking ahold of the handle and twisting it. “Get-“fortunately, as he and Slade were directly inside of the now open door, Rene and Dinah were still looking down the hall, undoubtedly having just met Denise. Oliver barely manage to shove Slade forcefully out of view before his two team members turned back around. Rene almost startled.
“Hey boss,” he frowned, a little confused by something that Oliver was sure he didn’t want him to think about.
“What’s up?” Oliver’s tone was abrupt, and he had to force himself not to look behind the door to make sure Slade had hidden himself. He hoped that his expression was normal, but judging from Rene’s and Dinah’s expression, he hadn’t quite managed that.
“I need you to read over this,” Dinah held up a folder.
“Now?” Oliver queried with just enough tone in his voice to question her strange timing.
“You’ll understand when you see it,” she replied cryptically, and Oliver, without any excuse, had to step back, allowing them both entrance to the apartment. “Looks like you had a busy morning already,” Dinah added, spreading papers across the counter. Guessing (rather hoping he knew) what she was referring to, Oliver replied quickly.
“The mother of one of William’s friends,” he said shortly. “He slept over at their house last night and forgot some school material. So, what’s this?”
“A movement for impeachment, stemming from the ‘undeniable’” (Rene added air quotes) “proof that you used the Russian mafia to get into office.”
“Oh, that’s new,” he wasn’t particularly concerned, and Oliver picked up a page to study it. There was a grainy photo taken, what was now years ago of the time he had first entered the Bratva’s ‘mechanics’ for help to find the Count. Who took the picture, Oliver had no clue, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. “It’s a garage, this is easy to play off.” He commented, setting it down again. “I was reported to have at least three motorcycle accidents that year, it adds up. I don’t see why this is a problem, Dinah.” Especially, he reflected, a problem that needed to be addressed at this particular moment.
“You had a fight in here or something?” Rene was looking at the broken lamp, still lying on the floor. Oliver uncrossed one arm, his palm resting on his chin.
“Small incident,” he said dismissively.
“Probably not that small,” Dinah muttered, eyebrows raising though her eyes remained on the papers. Oliver frowned at her but she, maybe intentionally, didn’t meet his gaze. “The problem is, if this gets out, you’re going to have the press digging and we have no idea who the person behind this is, there’s a good chance they have the information Susan Williams found.”
That was a more serious situation.
“I’ll talk to Felicity and ask her to take down anything that’s floating around,” Oliver promised.
“My favorite part is the thing about Raisa being a Russian mole who caused you to defect,” Rene put in sarcastically. Dinah rolled her eyes.
“There’s enough shitty claims in here for us to make the reasonable assumption this person doesn’t have that much,” she admitted.
“Still, you’re right about Susan, I’m sure she’s not devoted to keeping that stuff a secret,” Oliver replied. Dinah pulled out a pad of paper. “I can try to get in touch with her but that might have the opposite effect.”
“Maybe wait on that,” Dinah agreed. “But in the meantime, do you remember the names of any Bratva you corresponded with while in Star City? I’ll make sure the searches don’t get too close to them.” Oliver told her as many as he knew, it didn’t take long, and after he was done, Dinah collected the folder and tucked the pad of paper back into her pocket. Oliver walked the two of them to the door. They were both out into the hallway when Dinah suddenly turned around, snapping her fingers. Almost simultaneously, Rene’s phone rang, and he walked on, answering it some distance away.
“Also, the precinct needs to put in a proper heating system. I sent you the file, it’s in the budget, I looked it over. It’d be nice to not rely on coffee cups for warmth come winter.”
“And they say we have some of the best architects,” Oliver added, Dinah shook her head in annoyance.
“Yeah, maybe if we were in Hawaii, or something,” she muttered. “You know we set up electrical heaters to keep the pipes from freezing last year? How much do you think that cost?” It was a clearly rhetorical question, her frustration at the imperfections of the city infrastructure. “But I should go.”
“Right, the new captain shouldn’t be late,” Oliver said understandingly.
“Well, yeah, but also Slade probably wants to come out of your room by now,” she replied nonchalantly. Oliver opened his mouth to respond and found himself at a lost for words. The woman gave him a look, as if daring him to make an excuse, when he didn’t, she nodded, turning on her heel. “If I don’t see you around City Hall I’ll update you tonight. Oh and also, tell Wilson if he does anything stupid we will hear about it.”
“Right,” it was the only thing Oliver trusted himself to get out.
“And I’d suggest you don’t do anything dumb either, but I guess we’re past that point. Remember, heating system.”
“I’ll make sure it gets presented,” Oliver promised. Dinah smiled at him, a friendly, amused smile that reminded Oliver, abruptly, how much things had changed over the years. He had first come to Starling intending to complete his mission alone. Now, he had a team full of people he would entrust his life to.
“D, let’s go,” Rene was off the phone and impatient, and Dinah sped up her pace to join him as the started down the stairs. Oliver turned back to the apartment, seeing Slade was already in the doorway. There was a brief, awkward interlude. They had busy lives, breakfast and coffee wasn’t something in either of their schedules.
“Busy morning.” Slade remarked.
“Send me the flight information?” Oliver said, and Slade nodded, studying the archer’s face with his usual dark gaze.
“I will.”
Once again, there was a far too long pause between them. Then, Slade was moving past him, and Oliver couldn’t think up anything else to say. Before he could talk himself out of it, Oliver took a step after Slade. The Australian, hearing the movement, half turned back towards him. The archer kissed him, hands coming up to frame Slade’s jaw. The Australian didn’t pull away from a moment, and when he did, Oliver thought he saw the betrayal of something soft in the man’s eyes. Then, Slade was unreadable as ever.
“You have some more visitors coming,” he said matter-of-factly. “Those two just stopped for a conversation.” Knowing the man’s hearing was still better than average, Oliver groaned.
“Go, go,” the push he gave to the Australian was barely more than a tap.
“Are you sure you don’t-”
“Fucking go or I swear to god I will push you out that window.”