Oliver sat deep in thought at his monstrous carved mahogany desk. The plush leather swivel chair cushioned his body so he could "relax". His chin cradled in the palm of his calloused hand, the chin stubble hardly an annoyance to the toughened skin. His gaze was out the large paladian window of his room, displaying the night sky darkening as the sun set in a blaze of spring glory beyond his family's large acred estate. Treetops silhouetted in the distance as flocks of birds passed by in black outlines, looking for a place to roost for the night.
The neurons arced in random directions with no particular path of thought. The island was a deep, shadowy pit he tried not to touch too often; like a black hole in space the sheer gravity was enough to suck you in and crush you to death in an instant. Tonight, he wandered his thoughts more freely, but not lightly. The list, his father, the legacy given to him, Tommy's shock at discovering how his best friend had changed and become someone else; these all saddened him. Although sadness had become less burdensome after his experiences on the island because being sad was a waste of time and energy when you are trying to survive. Perhaps regret would be more appropriate followed by its close ally guilt. On the periphery of his thoughts was a blonde ponytail and slim rectangular glasses.
He pushed his mind off again in a direction, almost like his training exercises the rhythm of thought brought him peace. Must keep moving, he told himself, stay too long anywhere and you could die. The blonde tendrils carefully insinuated themselves between his wanderings even as he began to think about Laurel. Suddenly, Laurel had blonde hair and glasses. He blinked to break the vision.
Gently shaking his head, he sat back as he felt a belt of tension buckled tight across his back. His burn scars itched still. The doctors had said nerve damage will forever give him phantom pains. Ollie smiled sarcastically to himself, what's so phantom about it if you really feel it? Reaching upwards to the ceiling he felt muscles stretch, sinew twist and bones pop. That arrow from Yao Fae never did heal right and he could sense the rotator cuff clicking as he turned his shoulder. Reconstructive surgery someday, he mused again, imagining his archery was not helping either.
" Are you alright, sir?", the baritone of John Diggle was behind him. The "sir" was perfunctory, more of a joke between them now since John knew exactly who Ollie was. Ollie was so distracted by his thoughts, he didn't hear the knock or door open when Diggle first came to check on him because he had missed dinner and his mother was concerned.
Ollie turned in the swivel chair to face John, the epitome of deadly grace. John had seen that instinct in only a few men and it still gave him chills and a hint of envy. His level gaze fell upon Dig as a casual smile barely touched his lips, " Mother worried her son didn't eat?" John had the sensation he was observing a large predatory cat.
" She asked me to check on you.", John replied neutrally. He was just touching the tip of the iceberg in the Queen family saga and he preferred to keep it light. So far, that strategy was going badly since he took this security job.
" I'm fine.", Ollie replied with a hint of humanity from behind his mask as he swiveled the chair back to look out the window. John knew better.
" Ollie, I'm not so sure. ", John replied moving further into the room. He kept a respectful distance but made sure he was on the periphery of Oliver's vision, " You've not been quite right since the Dodger case."
Oliver peaked his fingers in front of his face lightly touching the bridge of his nose, elbows on his desk. John heard him inhale slowly and carefully as if calming some storm raging inside him, " And you've known me for how long?"
" Long enough it seems.", Dig replied softening his voice slightly, " I think I know what is bothering you."
Oliver turned his head slightly to look at Dig from one eye but John knew he could see perfectly well. The muscles tensed almost imperceptibly in his jaw before he spoke, " Tell me life coach, what is my problem?" The tone was almost derisive but a hint of hurt echoed between them.
It was John's turn to pause before speaking and he kept his boss in silence for several moments, hands in his pockets, a forgiving look; soldier to soldier expression on his face, " Felicity.", he let the name hang, " You said you'd protect her and she gets a bomb collar instead. I think that has you bothered."
Ollie smiled a wide false smile and turned the chair the rest of the way to face Diggle, but there was no mirth in his eyes. He slipped his hands behind his head and threw his feet up on the desk, levering back in the chair with a chuckle, " Oh, that's it? Yep. 100%. Nobel Prize to you for superhuman insight!"
John didn't fall for the bait that Oliver threw at him. He knew better and it wasn't worth it , " She doesn't need you, you know."
Oliver stopped mid-taunting laugh and leveled a look at his bodyguard, " What do you mean?"
Diggle remained stoic and continued his logic, " Felicity has no need for you. She's smart, independent and pretty. She has no ulterior motives or hidden agendas. You've never been around a woman like that." Storm clouds rolled over Oliver's eyes and let them pass by. John's words had a ring of truth to him. John continued, " You've known Laurel all your life. She has baggage with you. Helena has issues with… you. Even your own mother has some crazy history with you. You are nothing to Felicity. She is in this only for Walter."
" No need. Finally someone who doesn't need something from me. What a novel idea. ", Oliver looked beyond John at the wall behind him said almost with relief in his voice.
" You know I don't mean it like that.", Diggle replied slightly indignant.
Placing his hands down at his sides, feet still propped on the desk, Oliver responded his eyes full of discomfort, " So why can't I stop thinking about her?"
John had his turn to smile but it was a genuine smile, " Oliver, how many women have honestly told you no? Have they walked away from you without blinking an eyelash?"
Oliver sat and contemplated, a small furrow between his brows, " None. Even my babysitters gave into me."
That explains a lot, Dig thought quickly to himself, "Exactly.", John pronounced and crossed his arms over his expansive chest, " You're not used to that. Welcome to the real world of average men."
" So what do I do about it?", Oliver countered taking his feet down from the desk corner, sitting up straighter.
" Man, if you ask me just leave it alone.", John replied with certainty.
Oliver eyes narrowed mischievously and he smirked his trademark smirk that told John he was up to no good, " Challenge accepted."
" You are asking for trouble.", John warned him sternly, " Don't expect me to clean up your mess this time."
" I won't hurt her. Really.", Oliver replied, his mood looking lifted, as he rose from the chair.
" I'm not worried about her.", Dig shot back as Oliver passed him lightly punching him in the shoulder, " She can live without you. I'm not sure if the reverse is possible."