Oliver enjoyed the meetings when Mr. Merlyn would come to the house. His father's meetings were usually boring, uneventful, and generally something that he wanted no part in. Unfortunately, now that he was nine years old, his father had started insisting that he started learning the basics of the family business. Oliver, naturally, was not a fan. He never lasted long in his father's business meetings, usually dismissed as soon as he started swinging his legs or clicking his tongue or pulling faces at himself in the mirror behind Robert's large desk.

Sometimes he was just bored and got carried away. Other times he did it on purpose. Because he was bored.

But when Mr. Merlyn came to the house, everything was different.

He was never allowed in those meetings. Brilliant. Oliver's favourite kind of meetings were ones where his father locked the door behind him and that meant he could go and do whatever he wanted.

Mr. Merlyn never came alone. That was the best part.

Oliver hovered on the main staircase, about halfway between the ground and first floors, swinging one foot through the banister as he waited impatiently. Raisa hated when he did that, she often pulled him back by the collar and reminded him not to damage the woodwork with his shoes, but he always carried on the moment she had her back turned. He'd heard Mr. Merlyn's car pull up in the driveway and his shoulders shot up, his foot drawing back into a normal position.

His mother passed him on the stairs, announcing her presence by smoothing down that part that curled on the back of his head. "Oliver, stay out of your father's way today," she warned him lightly, giving him that knowing smile only a mother could. "His meeting with Mr. Merlyn is very important."

"I have a meeting with Mr. Merlyn too," he bragged, throwing her his best, most grown-up smile. "It's really important."

"Is it now?" she asked humouring him.

"Yes, he's my business partner," Oliver bragged proudly.

"Does that mean you and Tommy plan to keep your chaos inside the house today, rather than destroy any more of our gardens?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Oliver's grin slipped into a more apologetic smile. "Umm…"

"Be good," she told him firmly as she continued down the stairs.

The door knocked, and Oliver jumped down the last few steps, halted by his father approaching then door. When the staff opened it and he shook Merlyn's hand, Oliver craned his neck around his father until he spotted his own business partner sulking behind his father's legs.

The bonus of Mr. Merlyn coming for meetings was that he often bought his son, Tommy, with him. Tommy just happened to be Oliver's best friend and favourite person in the entire world, so that worked perfectly for him. The moment Tommy spotted him, the two of the darted away without a second glance from their fathers.

Their first stop, as always, was the kitchen. Raisa always made cookies at the weekend, especially for Oliver as they were his favourite, and they weren't disappointed when they followed the scent to a freshly made batch. They climbed up onto the high stools, perching themselves right in front of their prize.

It wasn't until they reached for their snack that he caught sight of a bruise on Tommy's arm. Oliver grabbed his arm, scowling. "Tommy, where did you get that?" he asked, before his concern turned into something more curious. "Does it hurt? It looks like it would hurt. Have you poked it?"

Tommy snatched his arm back and rushed to pull his sleeve back. "I just fell over, Ollie," he mumbled, looking away from his friend.

"Sure, but what really happened?" Oliver asked his friend. He could tell when Tommy was lying. He tried to do it a lot, but he wasn't very good at it.

"Those boys from school chased me again," he said darkly. "They were laughing about my mom. I tried to fight them."

Tommy got into fights a lot these days. Since his mom died a while back, he gets into fights a lot. None of the boys at their school had ever known someone who had a parent die, so they didn't know how to react - that's how Oliver's mom explained it to them - but Oliver just thought they were being cruel for the sake of it. Tommy was an easy target for bullies now. Oliver didn't like bullies very much.

"Did you tell your dad?" Oliver asked him.

Tommy made a face. "No."

"You should tell your dad."

"My dad's not like your dad, Ollie."

Oliver didn't really believe that. Their fathers were together a lot, and they had meetings a lot, surely that meant they were quite the same. Besides, they were both dads. "Sure he is, he's a dad."

"He used to be a dad," Tommy grumbled. "Now he's just a…" he shrugged. "A person."

Oliver made a face, pursing his lips in a grumpy manner. "I'll come find you at lunchtime, then they won't beat you up, because I'll beat them up," he declared proudly.

Tommy looked at him, half the cookie falling out of his mouth. "Your mom will get angry at you if you start fighting again."

"So?" he scoffed. "I don't care," he bragged. Oliver wasn't scared of bullies, and he wasn't scared of his mom. "You're my friend, Tommy. My best friend. We're not gonna run from the bullies, we're gonna beat them."

"You're my best friend, too, Ollie."

Tommy started to smile after that, the two of them resuming their cookie-eating marathon until the entire plate was nearly empty, and Mr. Merlyn was standing in the doorway, clearing his throat. "Tommy, it's time to go home," he said sternly.

Tommy looked at him pleadingly. "Dad, can't we stay awhile longer?" he asked. "Please?"

"The Queen family have plans, Tommy, it's rude to intrude," he said sharply, which summoned Tommy to his side far too quickly. Oliver noticed that a lot - the louder Mr. Merlyn talked, the quicker Tommy moved. He had the same look in his eyes now as when he tried to cover his bruises. "Say goodbye to your friend."

"Bye, Ollie," Tommy mumbled, looking at him apologetically.

Oliver jumped down from the stool, the last cookie in his hand as he scampered over and placed it in Tommy's hand. "Bye, Tommy. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

Later, when the door had closed and his best friend was far away, Oliver was watching his mother fuss over his baby sister while his father read the paper. He went and sat on the couch next to his father. "Dad, can I ask a question?" he asked.

"May you," Robert corrected him.

"May I ask a question?" Oliver repeated.

"What's on your mind?" Robert asked, closing the paper to give his son his full attention.

"Why is Mr. Merlyn so mean to Tommy?" He asked quietly.

Robert didn't ask for a long few minutes, his arm moving to the back of the couch. "Oliver, you have to understand that the Merlyn's had a big loss when Tommy lost his mother. Things like that can break a family. Mr. Merlyn isn't mean, he's grieving. Mrs. Merlyn was a very wonderful woman who did wonderful things, and they loved her very much. Tommy and Mr. Merlyn just need some time to learn how to be a family again when someone very important to that family is gone."

Oliver's face screwed up slightly, trying to understand. "I still think he's mean."

"Think of it this way," he said, looking over at his wife and daughter. "Do you remember when your sister was born, and all you wanted was a brother?" he asked.

"Boys are just better than girls," he said firmly. "I didn't make that rule, Dad. It's just the rule."

"We'll see about that," Robert laughed for a moment. "But you love your sister very much now. Can you imagine what our lives would be like without Thea as part of our family?"

"No," Oliver muttered.

"You're a very lucky little boy, Oliver. Very lucky. You have two parents who love you very much, you have a little sister who loves you too. You have a nice house, in the safe part of the city, and you go to a good school. Not a lot of children are that lucky."

"Tommy used to be lucky," he said defensively.

"Sometimes bad things happen, Oliver, that's just how the world works," he explained. "Losing a mother is the hardest thing to happen to a person, and I pray to God every day that you won't have to experience that until you're old and grey with your own children." Oliver made a disgusted face, but Robert ignored it. "The point is that Tommy is still very lucky that he has such a good friend looking out for him, that's a very loyal and noble thing to do, and I'm very proud to know that my son isn't deserting his friend in a time that's very hard for him. But that being said, I also hope that you know that violence isn't the answer to bullies."

"It is if it stops them," he said indignantly.

"We do not become the better man by raising our fists to someone we deem lesser than ourselves," Robert told him sternly. "You can be a good friend to Tommy without hurting other boys. Remember that, Oliver."

"Yes, Dad," he muttered.

"Now, I think it's time you went off to bed," he announced. "Remember to kiss your mother and sister goodnight." With that, Robert went back to the paper.

Oliver slipped off the couch, did as his father said, and paused over the sleeping little girl in the moses basket next to his mother's chair. "You don't know this yet, but we've got a good dad," he told her. "He might try to make you go to boring business meetings with him, but it could be worse. At least we haven't got Mr. Merlyn for a dad."

He sulked up the stairs, knowing exactly what he wanted to do.

Being grounded for two weeks because of the matching bruises on the next boys who tried to hurt Tommy was worth it.