They ordered Chinese. The boxes were spread out and Oliver, Dig, and Felicity sat around the table helping themselves to a second helping. "So there we were, Oliver slipped the police that were on his tail and jumped in the car. And then..." Diggle stopped as Oliver laughed and slapped the table with his hand.

"And then." Oliver continued. "He decides he needs a cup of coffee. I've barely even wiped the paint off my face and he pulls into a coffee shop where there's what looks like a police convention going on. Five cars in the parking lot."

"What did you do?" Felicity asked.

"We went in, bought some coffee and sat down." Diggle laughed.

"Isn't that risky?" She asked.

"Not at all. In a coffee shop surrounded by cops is the last place they are going to look for a masked vigilante."

Diggle finished his plate, stood up and stretched. "That's it. I'm done. I'll see you two tomorrow." He gathered his stuff and left.

The easy conversation left with him. Felicity fished out another helping of noodles. "I made a list of some the research links I have on George Markwell. I don't like the idea of you going out and doing stuff while I'm gone."

"I think we'll manage."

"But you manage better if I'm here to back you up on the computer if anything goes sideways."

"You're right. You should stick around this weekend."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "George Markwell will still be in Starling City on Monday when I get back. Maybe you should take a couple days off from vigilante-ing."

"That isn't even a word."

"Does it look like we're playing scrabble?"


"Maybe it looks like we are playing scrabble?"

"Maybe it can wait until Monday."

"Maybe?" She asked again.

This time Oliver rolled his eyes. "Yes. You deserve a weekend away and I shouldn't just assume everyone should drop what they have going on just to suit my time table." It sounded like he'd memorized one of Diggle's lectures.

"You should take the weekend off and rest a bit too. How's your leg? Did you get it looked at yet?"

Oliver put down his plastic fork, but didn't answer right away. He looked off towards the far wall, his brow lightly furrowed. Felicity bit her lip. She didn't know what she said wrong and it didn't really matter. There were five years worth of land mines collected in Oliver's head, and an endless stream of stupid things flying out of her mouth on a regular basis. If she were to try and walk on eggshells around Oliver she would end up never saying anything at all.


He blinked and little and refocused on her a little unsteadily, as though he wasn't entirely back yet. "Yeah?"

"Pass me the sweet and sour pork, please."

She waited while he focused on the table as though seeing it for the first time. She waited patiently and didn't fall for the urge to point it out to him. He did find it eventually and passed the box across the table. Felicity smiled and thanked him. He nodded in return and looked down at his plate briefly before pushing it slightly away.

Oliver cleared his throat. "My leg is better."

"You were limping earlier. Is it still bothering you?"

"I didn't notice." He paused for a minute. "I might have twisted my knee a bit when I jumped the fence. I didn't land all that great, but it didn't slow me down."

"That's good." She took a few more bites and then pushed her plate aside as well. "If I eat any more I'm going to explode."

"How I would explain that one to the janitorial staff?"

Felicity laughed, she felt satisfied for steering him back away from his dark thoughts. "We have wine here don't we?"

"Are you forgetting where we are? But didn't you just say you were full?"

"Wine doesn't count."

"Okay then." Oliver stood up and went upstairs to find an acceptable bottle of wine while Felicity did a bit of cleaning at the table, mostly consisting of just throwing the empty paper plates and boxes in the trash.

By the time Oliver returned with a bottle in one hand and a couple glasses in the other she was mostly done and he grabbed a rag and wiped the table. "This feels kind of normal, doesn't it?"

Felicity didn't think so, but the look on his face was wistful and she didn't want to break that. "It's a normal I could get used to."

"Exactly." He popped the cork and poured them each a glass.