I've been making connections all week. Like WHO is Tommy Merlyn's family? Why'd he run as soon as that text came through? Why is Tommy keeping silent about his suspicions about Oliver? This is a completely different tack from my Story of Us Series...still TOliver-centric (I luvz them!), but more Tommy/Daddy-centric...Anybody guessed who Daddy is yet? If you've read my blog on DeviantArt, no fair telling!

He wasn't a momma's boy by any means. How could that be when he couldn't even remember his mother? Since Tommy Merlyn's mom passed away before he was two, there were no memories, no mourning for the woman that had bore him.

Dad, on the other hand was a different story altogether. Arthur King had doted on his son from the time Tommy was two until he turned seven. Then, quite suddenly, Arthur King had abandoned Tommy to a series of nannies and tutors when it became obvious private boarding schools weren't going to keep Tommy out of trouble.

Tommy respected his dad. He'd be the first to tell anyone that. But having to pretty much raise himself had left him very little room for loving his father unconditionally.

When the text rang in his back pocket while he was talking to Oliver about the night club, he immediately checked it.

My office. Now.

"Ah damn it, I gotta roll," he said to Oliver, "Anyway, I'll see ya later, man. Good place."

He bolted out the door to his car. When Dear Old Dad called, or in this case texted, he knew better than to delay. He gunned the engine and headed to the center of Starling City.

"Sup Dad?" Tommy asked nonchalantly as he walked into the large, bright office.

"Where are we on your friend?"

"My friend's name is Oliver Queen, Dad," Tommy said tightly. "And we're the same place we were last week…As far as I can tell, Ollie knows nothing about anything that doesn't involve partying, alcohol, women or fast cars."

"You said he knows Russian," his father growled, "How does he know that?"

"Maybe there was a Russian finishing school…or better yet," Tommy said brightly, loving to irritate his father, "maybe he screwed a Russian princess those five years he was gone! I don't know, Dad! He doesn't talk much about anything…though he is relatively interested in starting a night club now that he's stepped away from Queen Consolidated."

"A night club?" Dear Old Dad asked skeptically, "The boy says he knows nothing about running a business, why would he want to run a night club?"

"Really, Dad?" Tommy asked sarcastically, "Why do you think?...I mean, really…you were a young guy once…Why else but for the chicks that'll swarm the place simply because Oliver's there every night? The man hasn't been laid in…oh, I don't know FIVE YEARS!"

"Drop the tone, Thomas," his father said. Tommy looked into his eyes and saw that Dear Old Dad was done taking crap and lip, "I put you on this assignment to get me information about his whereabouts and activities, not to get attitude from you…Now what do you know?"

"I told you," Tommy growled angrily, "He hasn't said or done anything out of the ordinary for him. He's a little sadder, a little more introspective than he used to be, but honestly, Dad, the guy hasn't really changed much."

Tommy was glad he'd learned how to lie…to his father, to his tutors, to anyone and everyone. If he hadn't, Oliver's whole story would be a different story.

He knew that Oliver had endured several hits from a tazer from one of the goons that had "kidnapped" them and hardly even flinched. He also knew that Oliver had killed at least one of their captors and seriously injured two of the other three. But he wasn't telling Dear Old Dad that.

He hadn't told anyone that he suspected Oliver was The Hood. He wanted to talk to Oliver about it, but there'd never been an appropriate time. And after the so called "foiled kidnapping", Tommy also knew that he had a bug on him. He knew better than to remove it…another would just appear…so he'd played the fool that everyone expected him to be around Oliver and hated himself for it every minute.

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