A/N: Usual Disclaimers Apply. Enjoy.

Laurel Lance did not panicked easily. When she broke her toe at a dance recital, she did not panic. Her first scores of the LSATs made her cringe, but never panic. Finding out the love of her life was alive, not dead, made her heart stop, but no panic. She methodologically thought of a solution for each problem. The headlines on the television, however, took her breath away. She turned to her coworkers in amazement. A middle-aged man walked over to her. He was tall, with blue eyes and salt and pepper hair, and an unnaturally tanned skin for Starling City in January. Laurel considered him for a moment. "Who called you down here, sir?"

"Your boss," he replied. The man was a federal judge, someone that Laurel had known throughout her career as her ethics law professor, and everyone knew that the older man had groomed Laurel to be his protégé. "What do you think we're going to do about this breakout?"

Laurel raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, Judge Willows, I'd request the use… of certain consultants to help us find an almost impossible to track hacker."

The man smiled and his pearly whites gleamed against his tanned skin. He rubbed his long nose. "Have the paperwork on my desk immediately. We don't want this man out any second longer than preventable."

Laurel nodded and walked briskly to her desk. She breathed deeply, closed her eyes, and focused on the necessary legal paperwork.

Avoiding your father came easily when a world-renowned hacker escaped from a maximum-security prison. It tended to have lots of paperwork.

Quentin Lance marched through the DA's office like he was on a mission. He was, but not one of them sleazy hairballs would know what it's about. His daughter didn't know that he knew she was avoiding him. She had been since… well, that last Saturday. At the little fucker's party, where she'd tensed up after talking to the infamous Moira Queen.

He walked over to his daughter's desk, raising an eyebrow at her being stuck with piles of paperwork this early in the week. He coughed. Laurel's head shot up and she gazed at him with astonishment.

"What?" she asked him. Quentin, never one to miss the opportunity to point out manners, was about to lecture his daughter when Judge Willows came up to Laurel's desk. Quentin crossed his arms and regarded the man with quiet disdain. Judge or no judge, you didn't dare to interrupt Quentin Lance's speeches to his daughters.

"Detective," the judge nodded. He handed Quentin a paper. "I need you to find your… new consultant. Urgently."

"Is this about that hacker?" Quentin asked Laurel. She nodded and pointed to the warrant. He raised his eyebrow. "Why do I need that?"

"You've got a new consultant… and you need to inform him of his status change," Laurel stated. She smiled at her father. He glared back at her. "I know it's not… what everyone in your department wants, but…"

"We're going to give you federal access, Detective," Judge Willows commented. Quentin's eyebrows rose again and his mouth opened to say something. Willows held a hand up for Quentin to stop. "We need your consultant to… do things outside of the police range."

"Break the law you mean," Quentin muttered. He crossed his arms and his stance tensed. "I…"

"Dad, he'd be under federal protection," she assured him. Laurel glanced at Judge Willows. He nodded at her. "And I'll be handling his connection with the city police."

Quentin's eyebrow rose. He glanced at Judge Willows. "What the hell does that mean?"

"She's taking the job with the Justice Department," Judge Willows remarked. "I recommended her a few months ago."

Laurel fidgeted under Quentin's stare. "It's better pay and better resources."

Judge Willows cleared his throat. "She would also be able to communicate with local authorities easily. Her authority would allow your consultant a wider range… of resources and… other things that the local police cannot supply."

Quentin's closed his hands into fists and nodded. "Alright. When do I make contact?"

"As soon as possible," Laurel stated. She glanced down at her desk. "You need to get in contact with him. It's a priority case."

Laurel handed her father a file and he read the contents. His eyes scanned the pages quickly and his mouth opened in surprise. "You're handling this case?"

Laurel nodded. Her father scratched his head and his beard. Laurel watched his reactions. His eyes widened at surprise and he glanced at her. "I'll take it. And get this to him."

Laurel smiled her thanks. Her father nodded his farewell and walked out of the office. Judge Willow smiled at Laurel. "When are you going to move your office?"

Laurel smiled at him. "When this case is over, I'll make the permanent relocation."

Judge Willow nodded his agreement and walked out of the office with a wish of good day to Laurel. She gazed at the desk and office around her, long after he was out of sight, and sighed.

Quentin dialed a number, one that he'd memorized long before anyone knew. He heard a female voice answer the phone. "Tell your friend I'll be in the alleyway on 5th street, behind the Chinese place, at 9 p.m. tonight. I've got some information for him."

He felt the stress run through his veins. He came to one conclusion: Quentin Lance was getting too old for this bullshit.

Patrolling was a major pain in the ass, especially for someone who wanted to scratch off a few names on his list. His mission was to create that free world, not patrolling some random street. Surprise washed over Oliver when he spotted Detective Lance at the beginning of the alley.

Oliver dropped down and approached the man slowly. Since the man was here on police business, not personal, Oliver was unsure of how to approach him. "How can I help you, Detective Lance?"

The man sighed, running an agitated hand through his hair. "I've been… told to maintain communication with you."

Quentin cleared his throat. He ran a hand through his hair. "I know our friend got in contact with you. We really need your help."

Oliver glared at the man from beneath his hood. "Why do you need my help?"

Quentin brought a folder out from his jacket. He handed the folder to Oliver. "A criminal escaped… and we need a consultant with unusual skills."

Oliver chuckled softly. This is what my life is coming to.

"We'll be in contact," Quentin told him. He held up the phone that Oliver had given him. "Call me when you've reviewed the file."

Oliver nodded and walked away from the detective. He walked into the shadows. "Explain this, please."

"He contacted me this afternoon," Felicity's voice echoed in his ear. Oliver nodded. "We can… get more leniency if we accept this offer. You know that."

"I'm not Starling PD's lapdog," Oliver muttered. Felicity laughed at him. "We'll talk about this when I get back."

Oliver was in a royal mood when he got back to the hideout. He saw Tommy in the storeroom and shook off Tommy's confused look with a hand gesture. Tommy laughed while Oliver stalked down the stairs to the basement. He threw his hood back and gazed at Felicity.

"We need to take this case," Felicity said. "This guy is a terrorist."

"He's not my concern," Oliver bit back. Felicity rose from her seat and marched over toward him. She poked his chest with her finger.

"He will be! He's a hacker. You know what they do, right? He could probably hack our network within five minutes. I've looked at his past work… this man is dangerous, Oliver. You need to stop him." Felicity crossed her arms. She glanced at Diggle. "He could get all the information and expose us."

"We can't afford that with your social justice crusade," Diggle commented. The man began polishing weapons and humming to himself. Oliver tilted his head to the right and the left, balancing his weight while he did so.

"We'll look into it," Oliver conceded. He walked away from the two and began considering what he could do with this newfound access to a certain attorney. Tommy doesn't have to know…

Laurel ended her phone call and felt her worry increase. Moira Queen was a woman who got what she wanted, but her wish was too great for Laurel to bear. They'd just gotten him back. If she were to tell him now, then she'd lose him forever.

Laurel felt her headache form and she called Tommy. "Hi, I need you to delay Ollie tonight… his mom wants to talk to me."

"What're you going to do?" Tommy questioned. Laurel shrugged and when she didn't respond, Tommy laughed quietly. "I can keep him busy at the club. Trust me."

Laurel smiled. "Thank you."

"You owe me one," Tommy whispered. He hung up and Laurel grinned at her phone. He's too good for either of us.

Oliver walked up to the bustling sounds of a club in full swing. He saw Tommy acting as host. He walked over and yelled, "I'm gonna head home!"

Tommy stared at him for half a second before plastering a smile on his face. "You're not headed anywhere! We need someone to help with the bachelor auction fundraiser!"

"Fundraiser?" Oliver warily asked. Tommy nodded enthusiastically. They walked away from the busy crowds into the office. Tommy sat Oliver down and smiled. "We need to raise awareness for something. It's a good way to get our names positively mentioned in the newspapers… other than our scandalous stories."

"What cause?" Oliver questioned tiredly. Tommy grinned at him. "Spill it, Tommy."

"Glade orphans," Tommy whispered. Oliver raised an eyebrow. "The proceeds could be donated to a charity, orphanage, anything like that. If we bring attention to this area, we can help boost the local economy."

"Adding to the wealth in this neighborhood?" Oliver sarcastically commented. Tommy tsked him and his grin grew wider.

"If we help rehabilitate the Glades, then our corporate futures will be set. Nonprofits are the craze these days. When we succeed, you'll have access to different foundations… and unconventional avenues for resources could probably be found." Tommy sat back in his chair confidently. He shoved a file into Oliver's hand.

"With the nonprofit… we can write off certain purchases. That way, we can open two fronts, just in case one office got compromised." Oliver considered his friend's theory for a moment and rubbed his cheek.

"Can I think on it?" Oliver asked. Tommy nodded. They both rose and Tommy reached for a bottle of champagne.

"Tonight, sir, we celebrate!" Tommy exclaimed. They put the paperwork down and began drinking. "I don't know what, but it's time we celebrated!"

The Queen mansion always intimated Laurel. Even though she knew every part of the property like the back of her hand, there were many memories Laurel didn't want to relive. She walked into the foyer. Moira Queen came down the stairs, looking very professional in her blue pantsuit, and gazed warmly at Laurel.

"We need to talk, my dear," Moira greeted and ushered Laurel into the living room.

Laurel sat down on one of the sofas and cautiously regarded the older woman. "You were very cryptic on the phone."

"Discretion is necessary," Moira responded. She sat on the sofa opposite of Laurel. "It pertains to the matter we discussed five years ago."

Laurel's mind whirled through the possible subjects. When she saw how pale Moira was becoming, she realized what subject it was. "Honestly?"

All Moira did was nod in response. Laurel groaned in disbelief.

A/N: Leave a review if you wish. Please let me know what you think

Until Next Time,

DBA