Standing over the city, listening to the sounds of cars running and backfiring as people talked and laughed. Steam rising from the heat of the sewers in the dark streets went higher than usual, leaving a musky, thick smell. There was a breeze to break it up before it stuck to the buildings and the people like molasses. Up top, on the taller business buildings, the wind blew harder. Without as many obstacles, the wind could blow faster and stronger. Up high, it's calmer and easier to breathe.

That was what drew him up there in the first place years ago. Ever since he first started at Queen Industries as Oliver Queen's personal assistant, nurse, target practice, and confidant. When he needed space from everything, he went up there. His job demanded almost everything of him, so he found his small space for a bit of peace. His black tie flapped in the semi-clean air as he sucked in a deep breath. So, this was it. This was how it all ended.

Great.

Taking a breath, he slowly let it out as settled himself down to sit on the ledge. Could he really do this? Leave Metropolis forever?

More importantly, could he leave Oliver? The man was helpless as a baby deer, but he'd made it clear that he didn't want Alex around anymore and now. . . It meant nothing. It broke his heart to have his best friend throw him away so easily.

Fine. He'd leave. He'd let Oliver float then drown in his own mess without a helping hand. Clark might help for a bit, but it wouldn't be the same. He would never find anyone that could hold a torch to Alex.

It was a small comfort, but it worked. For now. Shifting in his seat, he scooted closer to the edge. It was now or never. "Enough talk, time for action," he huffed. Looking down, he watched the twinkling lights for a moment, imagining that maybe one was Ollie, rushing to stop him; to apologize and make everything better. "Wishful thinking," he chuckled softly, sniffling before wiping his eyes free of stray tears.

"Alex!" A familiar voice called before hurried footsteps came up behind him. He turned and saw Clark Kent standing there. "Wait, please. There's gotta be another way than this," Clark said. Desperation to save the younger man in his eyes was easy to see. Clark was the knight in shining armor to everyone.

"Ollie made it clear that he doesn't need me to help him. He doesn't want me around for anything, so. . ." Alex's British accent shook as he fought more tears.

"Please, just come back and I'll talk to him. You don't have to jump. It's not the end of the world. Trust me, I know what it's like to be rejected by the person you love most," Clark said, inching closer. He needed to keep the younger man talking as much as possible, to keep Alex focused on Clark so he could get closer. He'd talked people down before, but not a friend. It was hitting close to home and he didn't know if Oliver could take another death.

"Not like this. You didn't see his face or hear him," Alex said, his fists were clenched together hard, making his entire body shake. " He's disgusted with me! He hates me!" He screamed, turning to face Clark. "I have no job, no home, and I've lost my best friend! I barely have myself, but I'm going to fix it. I'm going to make him regret it."

"Alex, this isn't the way." Clark could see he was losing and Alex was getting more determined.

"I'm sorry, Clark," the younger man sighed. "I really am." He pushed off from the edge, using his feet to kick him out further as Clark rushed forward to grab him.

"No! Alex!" Clark yelled, trying desperately to reach the boy in time. He couldn't. His fingers grazed Alex's shirt, but it was gone before he closed his hand.

*Several Years Earlier*

"Shirts are packed, plane is scheduled, all that's left is to get your person to said plane," the British boy said as he held an electronic tablet, checking off various tasks and events. His mousy brown hair fell in his eyes only to be flipped away.

"Is that all? I was sure climbing Everest was in there somewhere," the blond man chuckled. He reached into his closet and pulled out a fresh shirt before slipping it on. "Come on, Alex. It's okay to crack a smile every once in a while."

"With respect, Mr. Queen, it's not my job to smile," Alex said, pausing his work to glance at his boss. "What my job is, sir, is to keep you on time, well prepared, well fed, and dressed. I didn't see anything about smiling in the requirements."

"Maybe I should add that. As well as a decent haircut and wardrobe," Mr. Queen sniped back.

"My appearance is the least of your worries. you should take care of your own. . . . Wardrobe," Alex said, giving a pointed look to a black bag next to the bed.

"You say that now, but when we get to Metropolis and you're page on of Fashion Hazards, you'll be singing a different tune." Picking up his bag, Mr. Queen walked out of the room, leaving a rather irritated assistant behind. Alex looked down at his clothes for a moment. So they weren't exactly front cover of Men's Vogue. He had a sneaking suspicion that his outfit would be laughed out of the Salvation Army. A sky blue button up that was few sizes too big tucked into khaki slacks with brown loafers. Stupid Oliver. Huffing, he turned off the tablet and followed his boss's lead. Alex had been hired to run Oliver's business life, not take his fashion advice.

His own life might come second now, but that was a sacrifice for the greater good he was willing to make. The pay off or bright side was still waiting to be found. . . Maybe. . . Hopefully. A little silver lining would be nice. "Come on, Alex. For once you're the one lagging behind," Oliver snickered, enjoying a few moments of being on the other end of the spectrum. Usually Alex was the one that was harping on him non-stop. 'Don't forget your papers, wipe your chin, pick up your underwear.' It was almost like being married.

"I'm coming," the younger man huffed.

"You know, that's a first for me," Oliver said, a sly smile spreading across his face as they stepped into the elevator. "Never made you come before." He could feel the heat from the younger man. Alex was blushing so hard.

Oliver 1. Alex 0.

Half of Oliver's free time was spent making Alex as uncomfortable as possible. The boy was so straight laced, he had a theory about an invisible stick in a very uncomfortable place that desperately needed to be pulled out.

There was no real come back as Alex was more preoccupied with restraining himself from committing murder. While it would be sweet retribution, it would help no one. The elevator was silent as it went down the floors, achingly slow. Oliver just stood ther, grinning. Alex stared at the doors, willing them to open faster and free him from the suddenly hot compartment. It felt like forever in hell. Finally, it dinged open and Alex shot out, not getting out there fast enough. "What's wrong, Alex? Was it something I said?"

Following slowly, Oliver shuffled out into the lobby, smirking. Alex was already in the limo waiting. He'd give the younger man that. Alex was fast. "Airport," the boy grunted as Oliver took a seat in the limo and shut the door.

"Yes sir," the driver said before he pulled them out of the building's drive way and onto the streets of Star City.

"The plane is about to take off, sir," a stewardess said as she made sure that Oliver and Alex were settled in and comfortable before take off.

"Thank you, Cindy," Oliver said, eyeing her a few moments as she walked away. "Are you sure you're not interested? I'm sure underneath the geeks there's a sexual beast just waiting to be let out." Turning to look at Alex, Oliver smiled. One of those dashing, woman melting, annoying smiles.

"She's not my type," Alex mumbled under his breath, referring to the stewardess.

"Then what is your type? Are you even old enough to have a type?" Oliver sipped a bottle of water a moment as he eyed the younger man as he worked through some papers.

"I'm 21. Of course I have a type." Oh, why did he say that? He just opened Pandora's box of harassing and teasing.

"Oh? You sound like a man that knows what he wants. Care to share with the rest of the class?" That grin was very irritating.

"Blonds," Alex said. It was short and sweet and hopefully enough to satisfy Oliver's curiosity.

"Blonds? That's it? The way to Alex Killian's hear is with blond hair." There was no need to even look at Alex to know that the boy was blushing, again.

"Yes."

"What about boobs or butts?"

"I don't care so long. . . As long as they have blond hair."

"Alex, I think you're blushing."

Oliver 2. Alex 0.

The entire plane ride was spent with Alex pretending to nap and Oliver chatting up the stewardess. As usual , the older man made plans with the woman and Alex was left to run defense while the billionaire play boy got his jollys. Alex didn't mind. He'd been resigned a long time ago to the fact that he'd have no life outside his duties to Oliver. Not to mention Oliver's extra curricular activities. While there was teasing and picking at, Oliver was a good guy deep down. Deep, deep down.

Oliver went his way and Alex went his as soon as they were out of the airport. The blond man had a brunette on his arms and Alex was left with his tablet and an apartment to unpack. Committed to the cause that was Oliver Queen, Alex lived with the man. Not only was he a personal assistant, but a butler, cook, and go to man on anything involving technology. He wasn't sure if the man sometimes forgot everything he did or if he just didn't care. Alex was banking on both.

Alex arrived at the building fairly quickly and rode up the loft elevator. It was noisy and took a moment to open because it was manual. Perfect. Stepping into their new home he looked around it was pretty cool, for an older building. Most of the moving was already done. He would just have to unpack. Brushing his frizzy hair back behind his ears, he looked around. Boxes upon boxes on top of crates. "Time to get to work," he said before he picked up the first box and set it down on a desk. Opening it, he pulled out its contents then put them in their places.

Several hours later, five cups of coffee, and a change into a baggy t-shirt and jeans, that like the rest of his wardrobe was two sizes too big, and Alex was finished.

"Have I ever told you that your outfits are painful to look at? All baggy and frumpy looking when you've got arms the size of my pinky." Turning, Alex rolled his eyes at the boss coming home from a long day's work of nothing but playing with a brunette. "Thank you, at least I know it's in good hands with you," Oliver said as he looked around. He was impressed. Alex always out did himself and he never could thank him enough, for everything. "Have you taken anything for a test run yet?"

"Nope. Was waiting for you to get here," Alex said, picking up a remote control. As much as Oliver was an asshole, the night time activities were fun. "Here it goes, Boss," he said, cracking a grin as he pressed a button and the front room came to life with lights and sliding panels to show off a green room with various types of bows and arrows and weapons. "Green Arrow is in business."