Title: Sum of Its Parts
Word Count: 1487
Summary: The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. If I did, "AU where Tommy lives" wouldn't be AU.
Notes: I wish I could tell you what happened with this. I can't. I've been working on this for a few days on my lunch break, so it's sort of a culmination of my Tommy feels and a character study. I blame conversations with Aeris Deathscythe and Spitfire303 on for this. For Aeris, I basically detailed out a list of Tommy interactions with Team Arrow, and the character study part comes from a conversation with Spitfire where we discussed Team Arrow. Anyway, if you want to tell me this is insane, please leave a review or comment. :) If you don't have the time (I understand completely—I'm running short these days), thank you for just getting through this. If you can. ;P
Also, if you want, you can consider this part of the "And What Seems but Idle Show..." universe. Reading isn't necessarily required or recommended, but they sort of have a similar feel.
Tommy's presence in the lives of Team Arrow is an odd one, Felicity thinks. After that near-death experience during the Undertaking, the last surviving Merlyn had a lot to deal with—injuries, a dead father who was a murderer, a friend who took his father's life, and the whole, general Oliver-is-the-Arrow thing—but she thinks he's taken the changes surprisingly well. Thea has gained interest in Verdant, and they're working it together, but sometimes he ends up in the lair, just as casual and at peace as he is in the club.
Tommy has almost too much personality for Felicity to handle—she almost prefers Oliver's quiet, stoic personality on days where Tommy stays in the lair—so she hasn't really done any bonding with Oliver's best friend since childhood. But she does appreciate the free drinks he sends her way after a really hard night of Arrow business, so she repays the favor one night on a particularly complicated mission.
"Hey, Tommy," she calls casually, and he perks up from his chair just as she throws it at him.
He catches it easily, and, of course, he immediately asks, holding it up for inspection, "What's this?"
She rolls her eyes, not looking up from her computers. Why do the people around her have to be so computer illiterate? "It's a comm—so you can hear what's going on in the field." Hastily she adds, "If you want, I mean. You don't have to—and things get kind of crazy out there." She looks up, making explosion sounds and motions with her hands.
Tommy actually chuckles, seeming surprised by her little explanation, but clips the comm over his ear anyway. Frowning, he tells her, "It's quiet."
She rolls her eyes again. "Well, duh," she responds, "they're on radio silence. But when arrows start flying, you'll learn to appreciate the quiet."
Tommy pulls his chair over behind hers, and Felicity can see him staring at her monitors when she looks over her shoulder. Clearly he's trying to unravel the mysteries of the lair, and she admires him for that. After all, she knows the only reason he's involved in this is because he wants to keep Oliver safe—just like the rest of them. "Don't get mad," he starts, which only serves to set Felicity immediately on guard, "but I'm not exactly sure what Blondes-Have-More-Fun and Tall-Dark-and-Handsome do around here. I mean, Ollie's the Arrow. What are you two, exactly?"
Felicity swivels in her chair to face him, frowning. "First of all, just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I'm a ditz. That's a stereotype that I resent greatly. I've never locked my keys in a convertible with the top down and called a locksmith, and, frankly, it's just demeaning that people think that my hair color has anything to do with my intelligence. And Oliver is not the Arrow," she corrects. "That's a common misconception—that the Arrow is one single man. He's not. Oliver is the guy running around with the arrow and the bows and the tight leather pants, but that doesn't make him the Arrow." She crosses her arms.
"Oliver is our Bruce Wayne," she says, and Tommy only continues to look baffled. "What, do you not know who Bruce Wayne is?" When he shakes his head, she rolls her eyes. "You billionaires are hopeless," she mutters, earning herself a grin from Tommy. "Bruce Wayne is from comic books, and, in being male, you should know this by default. His alter-ego is Batman?"
"Who?" Tommy asks, causing her to groan. The billionaires never learn—and they always like to hurt her soul with a misunderstanding of pop culture and superheroes. Seriously, how did they survive childhood without hearing about Batman?
She sighs sadly. "Just bear with me, okay? Batman is a comic book character—a superhero. His alter ego, Bruce Wayne, is a billionaire, and he uses his money to purchase tools to help him as a superhero—and to give to charity. Unlike a lot of comic book heroes, he's just an average good guy without any special powers—no x-ray vision, no storm-channeling powers, no weaknesses to a rock that doesn't actually exist. Just a normal guy with a few cool tricks and some training. And a horrible, crippling weakness for women—ringing any bells yet? That's what Oliver is to Team Arrow—to the Arrow. He's just the face, but that's not all that makes the Arrow who he is."
She pauses, thinking about it before saying, "Diggle's our Dumbledore." At another blank look, she frowns. "Seriously, you need to watch more television, Tommy. Everyone knows who Dumbledore is, even if they haven't read the books. He's wise and sort of coaches the underdog hero on his way to greatness. He's tough enough to stand up for himself, and people tend to underestimate him—which is a huge mistake because he's tough. Also, Dumbledore is a bit crazy, honestly, but so are all of us for doing this.
"And that leaves me." She frowns for a moment before finally saying, "Sadly, there aren't a lot of cool metaphors for my role." She stops as she realizes one. "Oh, my God," she says finally, "I'm the probie." When Tommy doesn't understand, she clarifies, "I'm like Magee. He's the most underestimated because he doesn't like to fight, doesn't like to draw a gun, but he's really the toughest of them all." She chuckles, finding new understanding in her work. "He's the one who does the work no one else can. He's the guy who hacks the government agencies when all other things fail and there's no other option." Yes, she likes that description. "That's who I am—the one they count on when nothing else works."
She waves a hand in summation. "Oliver is the heart, Digg is the soul, and I'm the brains. Pathos, ethos, and logos. We're the Arrow, and that's what we do."
A very unexpected voice says, "Couldn't have said it better myself," and she's surprised to hear it both in her comm and from behind her as Oliver walks into the lair, Diggle trailing behind.
She immediately turns scarlet. "The comms were on," she groans. "And you heard all of that. Awesome." She points a finger at him. "And I'm not going to apologize for that Batman analogy. You deserved it—every. Word. Of it." She switches modes, realizing that he's just been out in the field all night. "Did you manage not to get hurt tonight, or are we too unfortunate for that sort of miracle?"
An almost-smile ghosts across his face for a fraction of a second. "I'm unharmed," he assures her before tacking on a, "mostly." He shifts his weight to one leg, examining a six-inch-long cut on the other, just above his knee. "It's a shame they ruined the tight leather pants," he adds, and Felicity suddenly doesn't think she's ever been more mortified in her life—and that includes the time they were trying to catch the Dodger and she accidentally made that "family jewels" crack.
She winces. "Would it help any at all," she tries, "if I said I meant it as a compliment? Because I did—not many guys can pull that off." He has only to raise an eyebrow to have her flushing again. "The look! I meant, 'pull off the look.' Not the pants. Though—" She catches herself this time. "Oh, no, I am so not going there. That will not end well."
She gathers the toolbox that stands off to one side, the one that contains all of their medical supplies. "Tommy, get up from that chair—we have work to do, and you're taking up space." She rolls the toolbox over and is pleased to see Tommy obliging her demands. "Oliver," she commands this time, pointing to the now unoccupied chair, "sit."
She doesn't expect him to comply, but, surprisingly, he does. She stitches up the wound without further incident. Tommy whistles lowly in the background, and Felicity stops in surprise. He doesn't pay her any attention, just reaches over and pats his best friend's shoulder.
"If you have that much restraint when a pretty girl has her hands on your thigh, you, sir, are a far better man than I." Winking at Felicity, who is now crimson, he adds, "You weren't kidding when you said that island changed you, Ollie." Without another word, he stalks up the stairs to the bar, leaving Oliver and Felicity to deal with the fallout of his words.
Felicity is also very certain that Diggle's cough is well timed to hide a laugh. She's also quite certain that, judging by Oliver's expression, Diggle is in for a few new bruises the next time the two men spar.
And, well, if he finds his tech glitchy for the next two weeks, it certainly won't be because of anything Felicity has done.