So I'm back. Imagine that. It's only been...years? I've been reading a bunch of fanfiction lately (pregnant Olicity mostly) and I got stuck on this idea. Years ago I read a TVD fanfic where the author took all of season one and wrote a chapter per episode, changing the story to reflect Delena vs. Stelena. What if the show had not been stuck on the other love interest and had focused on the now main love interest? What if Oliver Queen met Felicity Smoak in the pilot and not connected to being the Arrow? What if their entire love story was rewriten within the season one narrative?

Well here's my version. So a note in general, things are going to happen as they happened in the show for the most part. For example. Felicity will not find out Oliver is the Arrow until chapter 14. Diggle will not find out until the end of chapter three. The main highlights will still be utilized but now Oliver will be warring between pursuing Felicity and being the vigilante. Instead of Tommy, Laurel, Oliver it will be two distinct pairings. It will also feature some change-ups on characters in scenes and also some scenes will require you to know what happens (i.e. fight scenes are mostly going to be skipped).

General word of caution: I'm not required to kill anyone that died in the show or allow those who survived to do so. This story/series will have a happy ending (a definitive HEA) but it's not all rainbows and unicorns during the journey. My goal is to do 3 seasons worth and then play with season 4 possibly. I know the ending to Season one of my fic and I know the ending of season two.

So buckle up. This chapter happens to be a tad more like the show. It has to be for set-up. Although we have some early Olicity scenes.

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The name of the island they found me on is Lian Yu. It's mandarin for "purgatory". I've been stranded here for five years. I've dreamt of my rescue every cold black night since then. For five years I have had only one thought, one goal...survive.

The hospital was cold and unfeeling. The white walls and tiled floor seemed alien to him. He looked out on the city and considered what he knew. His city was dying and it needed to be fixed. He had made promises. He knew the next few moments would set him on his path. Could he be convincing enough? Would they believe he was unchanged enough?

The clothing felt restrictive and he rubbed awkwardly at the t-shirt. He was used to movement and freedom and now he felt boxed in. The doctors had surrounded him, poking and prodding as they looked for injuries. He'd heard the gasps and momentary lapses of decorum as his scars and healed broken bones were discovered. He let them because he had to. They had no idea how much he disliked being touched now.

"Oliver." He turned and looked at his mother, willing himself to stay in character. She couldn't know this was not the first time he'd seen her in five years. She had to believe him.

"Mom," he sighed. She rushed to him and looked at him, touching his arms and cupping his face. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him.

"Oh...my beautiful boy," she cried. He allowed her to wrap him up in a hug and held her, watching as the doctors moved away from the door. He could hear the news choppers overhead and felt the spotlights dancing along the windows behind him. It was starting.

Oliver got his first glimpse of his childhood home in a long time. It looked just as he left it and he wondered about the changes inside. His mother chattered on about Thea's school and her own friends while trying to keep topics light and easy. He wasn't listening. He already felt disconnected and nothing she could say would change that.

The car stopped and he nearly bolted out of the car. The air was clean and scented with the flowers bordering the walkway. He breathed it in and walked back to stop the driver from touching his wooden crate. He tugged it up and turned to listen to his mother's continued chattering.

"Your room is exactly as you left it. I never had the heart to change a thing," she continued. "We can certainly change things if you would rather…"

"Oliver! It's damn good to see you," a voice exclaimed. Oliver turned and looked at the offered hand. "It's Walter...Walter Steele."

"Oh Oliver, you remember Walter. He worked with your father," Moira explained. Oliver ignored the opening and walked over to Raisa. The older woman reached up to touch his face and smiled.

"It's good you are home Mr. Oliver," she said softly. "Mr. Merlyn phoned. He wants to join you for dinner." Oliver smiled at her again but ignored Moira's questions.

He turned the corner and looked up the staircase, smiling broadly when Thea came into view. She paused at the top of the steps and smiled back.

"I knew it. I knew you were alive. I missed you," she cried. She rushed down the steps enveloping him a large hug. He felt the slight shaking in her small, yet grown-up frame. She was so big now and he felt so lost.

"You were with me the whole time," he murmured. For a moment the chattering fell away, the house, the pain, the despair. For a moment it was just him and her. Together again.

He already knew the dinner would be awkward and potentially painful. His family was prepared to play pretend and he was unsure if he could keep it going long enough to be believable. His tie felt too tight and the house was too closed up. He could hardly breathe in the house. He felt like there was something pushing against him, pushing in on him. He grasped the banister and considered turning back to his room. He paused when he heard the doorbell. No one came running so he sighed and headed for the heavy door.

He glanced outside and saw no one for a moment. The porch seemed empty and he stepped out. Immediately his body calmed, the fresh air bathed over him and he closed his eyes. Calm.

"Mr. Queen?" he startled nearly reaching out in violence but managed to mask the movement. In front of him was a girl. She looked nearly drowned, her blonde hair hanging limply down her back. Her shirt was plastered to her shoulders and she shivered. He pulled his jacked off without thinking and went to wrap it around her. Her hand reached up to push back but her heel stumbled.

He grabbed her, clutching her to him, her wet clothes soaking into his suit. He heard a clatter and glanced at the computer that bounced down the steps and into a rather large puddle. She squeaked and pushed away from him, rushing back into the rain.

"Miss!" he called after her. He rushed down the steps behind her. The rain was almost comforting in a weird way and he found himself finding a sense of peace he hadn't felt since coming home.

"Frak," she mumbled looking at the damaged computer." Her glasses were perched on the edge of her nose and she worriedly pushed them back up. "I'm so getting fired."

"Come on," Oliver offered. He helped her up and steered her into the foyer. She sneezed quietly and looked back at the door, wringing her hands. She was so clearly worried about the computer and Oliver was at a loss.

"Oh! You're Mr. Queen. I mean Oliver. I mean Oliver Queen," she babbled. "The guy who drowned. Or didn't drown. Did you? Drown I mean? That's rude nevermind."

"I…" Oliver started.

"I just...Mr. Steele needed that computer and my boss was on me all day about getting the data off for the meeting," she continued. "26 hours and counting and I can't think straight and now it's ruined. He'll fire me. He's kind of scary. Maybe it's the accent. Not that British people are scary…"

He watched fascinated as a small puddle formed beneath her feet, her bright red shoes seeming in opposition to her conservative, almost plain outfit. Oliver rarely noticed odd things about women but the light pink nail polish on her toes seemed to shine in the foyer light. He shook his head and turned his attention back to the wildly gesturing, babbling girl in front of him.

"I don't know what I'm going to do if I get fired. I just leased my car which by the way is terrible in the rain," she continued. "Don't you hate rain? The only good thing about it is going home and getting into some PJs and crawling into bed.

She blushed then and looked around the massive foyer. He used her moment of quiet to finally fully wrap his jacket around her shoulders. It was damp but dryer than anything she was wearing.

"What did I tell you? Yachts suck!" a voice said from the doorway. Oliver turned and saw Tommy Merlyn entering the foyer. He smiled broadly and pulled Oliver in for a hug. "I missed you."

"Oh sorry, you have company. Of course you have company," she continued. "I'm babbling. That's the last thing you need!"

"Tommy why don't you go join my Mom and Thea while I help Ms…" Oliver trailed off. Tommy nodded and walked away, dropping his overcoat over the coat hanger.

"Smoak," she offered. "With an 'oa' and no 'e'. You don't care. What's wrong with me?" She shivered and sneezed again.

"Smoak," Oliver echoed. He offered his hands in a placating gesture. "Why don't I get you something warmer to put on and help you to your car?"

"Oh no I couldn't," she whispered. "The computer…"

"I'll cover for you," he replied. "Can you fix it?"

"I backed up the files at the office," she considered. "I could get it for tomorrow."

"Okay good. It's a plan," Oliver said as he pulled her towards the laundry room. Surely there was something there she could take. "Here, take this." The clothes he'd worn from the hospital were clean and would probably never be worn again.

"I...thank you Mr. Queen," she whispered. He left her alone then, allowing her to change in peace and arranged for Raisa to provide a cup of tea to take. He went to Walter and explained his momentary klutziness and how the QC girl had not been at fault. It would be fixed.

He rushed back to find Ms. Smoak gone. The only reminder was the small puddle in the foyer and a small scribbled note.

I'm glad you aren't dead.

"Okay. What else did you miss? Super bowl winners...Giants, Steelers, Saints, Packers, Giants again. A black president, that's new. Oh and Lost? They were all dead...I think," Tommy filled the silence. Raisa smiled across the way at Oliver and he attempted to keep his mind on the dinner. He could still feel that momentary flicker of awareness from the scene in the foyer. He shook his head and looked at Thea.

"What was it like there?" she asked and silence reigned around the table.

"Cold," Oliver replied softly. " It was cold."

"We should do the city," Tommy offered trying to defuse the tension.

"That would be wonderful," Moira encouraged. "Just like old times."

"I'd actually like to go to the office," Oliver said surprising himself. "I'd like to see the changes."

"Well there's plenty of time for that. Queen Consolidated isn't going anywhere," Walter replies drinking his wine. His mother and Walter share a glance. Oliver watches in quiet contemplation and considers his options. That will need to be addressed.

Oliver glances back to Thea and looks out at the pouring rain. It's strange to see it reflecting in the glass after so long. It is a contemplative moment and Oliver wills for a little quiet as his mind races to find it's center.

"Oh!" Raisa, carrying a bowl trips into him and he catches her without thinking. The Russian flows out of him unthinkingly and he can't help but wonder how those around him will react. He can almost feel the tattoo on his chest throb in warning. Captain. Bratva. Killer.

"You speak Russian?" Tommy asks surprised. Oliver pats Raisa's arm and turns back to the table considering how to respond.

"I didn't realize you took Russian at college, Oliver" Walter offers an out and Oliver nearly leaps at it. Instead he decides to discuss the elephant in the room.

"I didn't realize you were sleeping with my mother Walter," he replies. Thea looks shocked but quickly throws suspicion from herself.

"No one had to tell me Mom," he explains. "It's clear."

"I...Oliver...we're married," Moira stutters. "We never did anything while your father…while you were...here."

"We believed Robert was gone," Walter explains. "We...you were...gone."

"It's okay," Oliver replies pained. While it wasn't a surprise, he still finds the discussion distasteful. The sounds, the lightning, it's too much. He needs to breathe. "May I be excused?"

Moira nods and it takes every ounce of willpower to walk out of the room calmly. In his room he locks the door and opens the window. The fresh air pours into the space and he gulps in air. His hand shakes and he reaches for the window frame. It's hard pretending. Much harder than he'd envisioned. He spins and looks at his desk and remembers the damaged computer.

He was on the boat again, watching Sara be ripped from him. He could hear her shocked screams, his own screams echoing in the storm. His father grabbed him, the smell of salt water strong around him. There was lightning and thunder as their bodies were thrown around the lifeboat.

"Oliver! Wake up!" a hand shook him. He reacted, unthinkingly. The body flipped beneath him, his hand pinned to the throat of his assailant. His hand groped for his bow.

"Oliver!" a voice cut through the haze and Oliver glanced in surprise to see Walter in front of him. He glanced down in horror at his mother's terrified gaze. Pushing her away from him, he flung himself towards the open window.

"I'm sorry. Sorry." he stammered helplessly. He shook against the window seat and groped around for something, anything to hold.

"It's okay Oliver," Moira rasped. "Sweetheart, it's okay. You're home now." She reached for him, pulling him against her and murmuring to him. The shaking subsided but he could hear the whispered words between Moira and Walter. He couldn't even sleep in a bed anymore. He could be dangerous. What about Thea?

He clutched his mother closer and hoped he wasn't too broken. He could come back from this and keep his family safe right? Was Oliver Queen too far gone?

Oliver got dressed, thinking about the nightmare he'd suffered the night before. One wrong movement and he could have killed his mother. He would need to start locking his door at night. He couldn't risk accidentally hurting anyone. He paused and listened to Thea's laugh in the other room. Speedy…

He moved down the hall, listening to soft chatter about drugs and considered his options. Speedy was going to get in over her head quickly or she already had but he'd only been back a few days. He couldn't just yell at her and try to make her see reason.

"Ollie!" Thea said when she opened the door. She hugged him briefly before stepping back.

"No one's called me that in a while Speedy," he said with a smile. Thea rolled her eyes and looked at her friend.

"Worst nickname ever," she enunciated.

"You were always chasing after me as a kid. I thought it fit pretty well. Maybe it still does," he replied knowingly. He let his eyes linger on the fine powder on her dresser for a moment until Thea seemed to realize. The girl made a quick getaway mumbling about school.

"Sorry about her," Thea offered lamely.

"I have something for you," he changed the subject. "It's a hozen and in Buddhism it symbolizes reconnecting. I hoped it would one day reconnect me to you."

Thea smiled and clutched the hozen, looking up at him. Oliver smiled and reached out to pull her in for a hug. He'd missed a lot during those five years but he had thought of his sister always. She was so much bigger now, so grown up. He'd missed so much with her and he wasn't sure he'd ever make up for it.

"A rock!" That is sweet," Tommy said as he entered the room. "You know I want one of those t-shirts that says 'My friend was a castaway, and all I got was this crappy shirt' but a rock?"

"Don't let him get you into too much trouble," Thea said against his shoulder. "You just came home." She smiled at him and left, grabbing her backpack on the way out.

Oliver looked at Tommy and waited.

"So the city awaits," Tommy offered and Oliver smiled in return.

"Your funeral blew," Tommy said with a laugh.

"Did you get lucky?" Oliver asked.

"Everyone was so sad...and huggy," Tommy chuckled. "So are we looking for a venue for your welcome home bash?"

"My…?" Oliver asked, turning away from the view of the Queen Industrial factory.

"You came back from the dead. This calls for a party. You tell me where and when. I'll arrange everything," Tommy answered. "And this city's gone to crap. Your dad sold his factory just in time. Why'd you even want to come this way?"

"No reason," Oliver answered. The building would serve his purpose but he needed to get away from Tommy and his family for awhile. He needed to think and all the chatter was starting to grate. The city noises were unwelcome after his solitude.

"So what did you miss the most? Steaks? Drinks? Sex?"

"Laurel," Oliver replied. "I'd like to see her."

"Everyone is happy you're alive Oliver," Tommy started. "You really want to see the one who isn't?"

Oliver nodded and Tommy sighed. The driver turned and was directed towards CNRI. Tommy filled Oliver in on Laurel's journey the past few years, periodically dropping somewhat intimate knowledge before coughing and trying to get back on track. Oliver watched the Glades pass by his window and clenched his fist at the amount of pain he could see.

"Hello Laurel," Oliver said with a small smile. "Can we talk?"

Laurel looked shocked to see him and she stammered for a moment while her friend backed out of the awkward moment. She finally nodded and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He watched her steel herself and prepare for the painful conversation.

"So you went to law school," Oliver said. "You always said you would."

"Everyone's so proud," Laurel replied bitterly.

"Adam Hunt's a heavy hitter. You sure you want to get in the ring with him?" Oliver asked, swearing under his breath at his slip. He shouldn't know who Adam Hunt is in context.

"Five years and you want to talk about my court cases?" Laurel asked stopping them both on the street corner. "Why are you even here Ollie?"

"To say sorry. It was my fault she was there," he stated. "Don't blame Sara."

"For what Ollie? For falling under your spell? For thinking she had a chance? For doing everything I ever did?" Laurel angrily answered. "She was my sister. My sister! I couldn't be angry because she was dead. I couldn't grieve because I was so angry. We buried an empty coffin because her body was at the bottom of the ocean where you left her. It should have been you. You should have died."

"I am sorry Laurel," he offered lamely. She glared at him and spun away.

"Yeah I'm sorry too. I'd hoped that you'd rot in hell a whole lot longer than five years." She stormed off and spoke to Tommy briefly. Oliver sighed and moved to approach his best friend.

He knew Tommy wanted to do something light and easy and act as though they'd been doing this for the past five years. If they didn't talk about the island then surely it didn't happen. Oliver was good at denial sometimes but lurking in his mind was the darkness and his screams when his father died.

"What?" Tommy asked suddenly. Oliver spun around and saw Tommy go down. A prick in his neck proved to be a tranq dart. Oliver attempted to stay awake but whatever drug, it was too strong. Down he went, his eyes watching as an innocent man was gunned down for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Mr. Queen…" Oliver blinked as the hood was removed from over his head. He glanced around assessing the number of kidnappers and Tommy's body on the floor. He looked for signs of life but was distracted by the man with the taser. "Did you father survive the accident? Did he make it to the island?"

Oliver grunted as the taser hit him a few times. He breathed through the pain considering worse ways to do damage. Tommy didn't move. Oliver looked up at his masked captors.

"Yes he did," Oliver replied.

"What did he tell you Mr. Queen?" the kidnapper asked, brandishing the taser.

"He told me I'm going to kill you."

Laughter filled the room and Oliver glanced back at Tommy. No movement. His hands were freed now and he raised them to show the captors he was not longer subdued. Oliver quickly dispatched two of the kidnappers and took off, stopping to check Tommy. A pulse…

Oliver climbed and jumped over the roofs pursuing the final man. He couldn't escape. He managed to catch up to the guy and pulled him in.

"No one can know my secret." The neck snapped and Oliver grimaced. Tommy needed to be seen to and a story had to be concocted. Hopefully Tommy had remained unconscious throughout.

"So that's it. A guy in a green hood flew in and single-handedly took out three armed kidnappers and just left the two of you there?" Lance asked. "Why?"

"I couldn't say Detective," Oliver replied. Tommy leaned back with an ice pack on his forehead. "Find him and ask him."

"And you?" he gestured to Tommy. "Did you see the hood guy?"

"I just saw...movement," he offered. "I was just coming out of it."

"Yeah, funny isn't it? One day back and already someone's gunning for you," Lance sneered. "Aren't you popular?"

"Were you able to identify the men Detectives?" Moira asked cuttingly. Both replied in the negative.

"They probably figured you'd pay a Queen's ransom for your child," Lance replied.

"I don't find your tone appropriate Detective," Moira answered.

"Gentlemen if Oliver remembers anything else he'll be in touch," Walter concluded. "Raisa will see you out."

Under his breath Lance managed, "Your luck never seem to run out does it?"

Oliver glanced at Tommy whose gaze was full of questions. Oliver shrugged and glanced at his mother. She sighed and came over to hug him.

"We just got you back…"

"You have changed Mr. Oliver," Raisa teased as she carried his tray to him. Oliver jumped up and took the tray from her, smiling at her broadly.

"I missed you Raisa," he said softly. She reached up and pressed her hand to his heart. He closed his eyes for a second enjoying the momentary comfort.

"You need to find reasons to smile Mr. Oliver," she told him. "This house has been lost in despair for so long."

"It's hard Raisa," he replied. Her hand slid down to her side as he turned to lower the tray to the table. He turned back to her and offered her a small shrug. "I'm not the same man."

"You have the same good heart Mr. Oliver," she told him fiercely. "You just need to find something that makes you happy. Now you have that chance. Do not waste so long as you did before."

She smiled at him again and left, pulling his door shut behind her. He turned to the tray and considered the request.

"Something that makes me happy…" he considered. The computer beeped and the concept was forgotten in favor of his crusade.

"Oliver, I want to introduce you to someone," Moira began. "This is John Diggle. He'll be accompanying you from now on."

She gestured to the man standing behind her and Oliver sized him up. The last thing he needed was someone following him around all day.

"I don't need a babysitter," he said firmly.

"Darling if Oliver feels he doesn't need armed protection then…" Walter assisted.

"I understand but after five years...this is something I need," she replied. She reached up and stroked Oliver's face. "Please."

Soon Oliver found himself in the back seat of the town car considering his new shadow.

"So...what do I call you?"

"Diggle's good. Dig if you want," he replied. He kept glancing in the rearview mirror, attempting to see if they were being followed. They weren't but Oliver understood the concern.

"Ex-military then?" Oliver asked. He knew but acting came with a certain level of stupidity sometimes.

"Yes sir. 105th airborne out of Kandahar. Retired. Been in the private sector for a little more than 4 years now," Diggle began. "I don't want there to be any confusion Mr. Queen. My ability to keep you from harm will outweigh your comfort. Do we have an agreement?"

Oliver clicked the door open and jumped out, jumping a nearby fence and running away from the confused bodyguard. A block or two away he stopped listening for the sounds of pursuing footsteps. He hadn't had the opportunity to watch Diggle in action and was unsure how far he would follow. When no sounds greeted him, he smiled.

Bags over his shoulder he broke into the old Queen Industrial factory and began looking for the best place to set up shop. The basement was as good as any and would fit with his general plans. The room needed to be big enough for training, supplies and relatively simple computer set-up.

Oliver considered the prominent name of Mr. Hunt as the news reported his acts of fraud and theft. He knew the man was much worse but Laurel would only be fighting him on those small charges. The Hood would be needed to make a point. He walked to his crate and removed his bow and hood. It was definitely time to make himself known.

Oliver arrived outside of his party and looked over at Adam Hunt's office. He pulled out his phone and watched the timer continue to tick, sighing at the empty wire transfer. 10pm was certainly enough time. He considered the amount of bodyguards he had seen entering the building hours before. Mr. Hunt was prepping for battle. He still had time and Oliver could only hope Mr. Hunt was a smart man.

The party was in full swing and he glanced at the debauchery happening in front of him. For a second it was almost like nothing had changed. There was Tommy surrounded by women and laughing the world away. The alcohol was flowing freely and inebriated guests were already starting to sway. This used to be his scene. This had been his life. Somehow it felt different. Less than. Oliver Queen was gone and who was he now?

The lights flashed and in the mirrored glass he saw the hood. That was who he was now. The Hood was his identity. Oliver Queen? The window dressing. He put on his smile and headed for Tommy, laughing about the crazy things happening all around them. Tommy pointed out a few women and Oliver shrugged. He had plenty of time to find the right girl to take home after all. No need to rush things.

Oliver turned and saw Thea and clenched his fist. Tommy stared after him as he rushed over to confront Thea.

"Ollie, hey! This party is sick!" Thea giggled.

"Who let you in here Speedy?" Oliver questioned grabbing her arm. Thea ripped her arm away from him.

"I'm not 12 anymore Ollie!" she replied. "Look I love you but you can't judge me for being just like you."

"I'm sorry I was away for so long," he offered. "Please Speedy."

"Away?" she laughed. "No Ollie. You died. You both did. I went to your funerals. I saw your headstones. I...Mom had Walter and I had no one. Everyone wants to pretend the last five years never happened but I can't. This is me now."

Thea pulled away from him and stomped over to her friends, searching her bag. Oliver spun away from her and threw out the little packet of drugs. He glanced up and caught John Diggle's gaze. John nodded simply and looked away, approving of the maneuver. Oliver looked back out at the party and turned, steeling himself to play the role he needed to play.

"Oh!" he breathed. "Laurel. You came."

"Tommy said there were too many years between us to leave things the way we left them. Can we talk," she said with a smile.

For a second Oliver was transported back all those years before when it was just the two of them. Oliver and Laurel. Meant to be. He had been a terrible person to her then. Young and foolish. Now he had to stay that way and keep her safe.

"I'm sorry about saying you should have died. I was wrong," Laurel said to him as they entered the upper floor of the building. "Sara...she…"

"If I could take her place, I would in a heartbeat," Oliver promised. Five years was a long time to wish you had been the one to die versus the others. He knew he was a poor consolation for the others.

"About Sara...there's something that I've been afraid to ask, but I need to know," Laurel fidgeted. "When the Gambit...when it went down...did she suffer?"

"No," Oliver assured her. "It was quick."

"I think about her all the time," she whispered. "She'd be done college now and working. Maybe married. I just...it's hard."

"I think about her too," Oliver replied. "I...hmm." He pulled his phone out as the little timer alarm dinged.

"You can talk to me if you need to Oliver," Laurel began. "Is there something wrong?"

Oliver sighed and slid the phone back into his pocket. Time to throw around a little hurt.

"I asked someone to do something. They didn't. Laurel...you always saw the best in me. Right now you're looking at me and wondering if I'm a better person. Did the island change me? It didn't. Stay away from me. I'll just hurt you," Oliver explained. "I got 5 years of debauchery to catch up on. Tommy's waiting."

"You know what? You're wrong. That island did change you. At least now you're honest!" she said angrily. She stomped away from him and Oliver pressed his fingers to his temples. It was for the best.

He rushed down the steps and headed for the service area. He only had a few minutes before Adam Hunt possibly left his office. It was a small window to be gone from the party but if the cops asked, he needed as tight of an alibi as possible.

"Something I can help you with sir?" John Diggle asked.

"I just needed a moment to myself," Oliver tried to explain. He didn't have time for this. The clock was ticking and he needed to move. Waiters and servers were already starting to notice him and he needed to not be seen leaving.

"I would believe you, Mr. Queen if you weren't so full of crap," Diggle replied. "Party's this way."

Oliver thought quickly, running through the ways to get away and keep his story intact. He moved for the door, pulling the door towards himself claiming it was locked. He waited for Diggle to reach for the handle, grabbed him and immobilized him.

"Sorry Mr. Diggle," Oliver said as he propped the man against the pillar. "I can't have anyone knowing my secret."

He raced down the hallway, stopping to grab the duffel bag he'd hidden earlier that day. His window was closing and he had very little time to accomplish his goal.

Twenty minutes later, Oliver rushed to change. His suit was tucked back in the bag and hidden elsewhere for later retrieval. He popped by and saw Diggle still lying against the pillar. He'd be waking up momentarily and Oliver couldn't wait to see how his new bodyguard reacted.

He stepped back into the party to see the police rushing into the building. The party had been frozen in silence as the police started yelling about the party being over.

"Detective. This is a private party," Oliver said as he buttoned his jacket. "Can I help you."

"Yeah? There was an incident at Adam Hunt's building tonight," Lance replied. "You know anything about that?"

"Who's Adam Hunt?" Oliver asked. "I've been out of town for awhile."

Snickers and laughter moved through the crowd and Oliver managed to offer them all a smile. Lance was turning an interesting shade of red.

"Yeah. Well, he just got attacked by the guy with the hood. The guy that saved your ass the other day. Managed to flee to this building right here."

"Well if you find him, I'd be willing to offer a reward," Oliver chuckled. "The guy in the hood saved my life. Go ahead and search away."

"And you Queen?" Lance growled. "Where were you during the last 20 minutes?"

Tommy looked over at Oliver and shrugged. There was no alibi to be had when no one saw the Party Boy. John Diggle was still out cold in the back room and there was no one who could vouch for him and hold up against any level of interrogation.

"He was with me Officer," a voice said nearby. Oliver turned and saw her. Ms. Smoak. She was still dressed for work and clutching her purse tightly. Eyes spun to her and the party started murmuring about this unknown guest.

"With you?" Lance asked in disbelief. Oliver knew she was not his type. Everyone who knew him or had known him, rather, knew he went for leggy models and starlets. Definitely not quiet, computer girls.

"Mr. Steele asked me to bring something to his house...not like that!" she blushed. "I had to bring a laptop but it got ruined by Oliver...I mean Mr. Queen. He told me to drop it off here because Mr. Steele and Mrs. Queen...Steele? Queen were going out tonight."

She rubbed a hand over her face and grimaced. Oliver smiled at her and she glanced down at her shoes. She raised her head again and looked at Detective Lance.

"He was with me the whole time and I haven't been drinking so I'm sure," she offered. "Sorry Officer but we didn't see a man in a green hood."

"Detective!" he growled in response. Lance spun towards Oliver and gestured, stabbing Oliver in the chest with one finger.

"You! I know you were a part of this!"

"I'm sorry Detective but I can't be of more help," Oliver replied. He spun to face the crowd and smiled his best playboy smile. "I'll give 2 million dollars to anyone who can find a nutbar in a green hood!"

The cheers erupted nearby and the music came blaring on. Lance shouldered closer to him, got in his face, gesturing wildly.

"Did you even try to save my daughter?" he demanded. "Or did you just watch her die?"

Lance's partner wrestled him away as Oliver's body went rigid. His hand twitched awkwardly and he turned to face the woman who had given him an alibi. She was gone. He scanned nearby but the crowd had reformed, becoming a sea of bodies in sequins and glittery dresses. Tommy approached looking unsure.

"What happened to you on that island?" he asked gently.

"A lot," Oliver replied. He caught a glimpse of the blue dress and swish of blonde hair heading for the exit. "I have to…" he managed before pushing through the crowd. He had to catch her.

Oliver raced after her, dodging the variety of partiers as he sought to catch up to the one who had given him an out from the police. He caught up to her in the doorway of the building, grasping her arm gently to stop her. She spun towards him clearly surprised to see him. Her glasses caught the light for a second and he was momentarily blinded. His hand slid down her arm until he could only feel the heat from the back of her hand against his.

"Mr Queen?" she stammed quietly. "Can I...is there something you need? Should I not have come? I was surprised about the invitation."

"Why did you do that? Tell Detective Lance I was with you?" He asked her. She glanced towards the road and the multitude of cop cars before answering.

"You helped me keep my job Mr. Queen," she replied. "I don't really care where you were."

"What if I was that man?" he asked quietly. She considered him for a moment before looking up at the broken window on the top floor.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "The man in the green hood attacked Adam Hunt and did something no one else has been able to do. I read the newspapers Mr. Queen. Perhaps he deserved it."

"That sounds cold Ms. Smoak," he answered carefully. She turned again to face the street and glanced back at him.

"There's a lot of hurt in this world Mr. Queen. It's a shame to see it so brazenly inflicted," she offered. She smiled at him for a second and then spoke once more,"When you were trapped on that island for five years...was this was you imagined? The party? The girls?"

"Of course. I'm a billionaire playboy after all," he answered with a grin. She shook her head before stepping down a few steps. Her dress swayed against her hips as she spun to look at him, her hand on her purse strap.

"It seems sad," she whispered. "Sometimes we can be surrounded by people and be completely alone. Goodnight Mr. Queen."

"If it was you," he began, "what would you do?"

She paused at the bottom of the steps and turned again to face him. Her face crinkled in thought as she considered her possibilities. He expected something about family or living life to its fullest.

"Cry," she responded. "I'd want someone to cling to and tell me everything was going to be okay. Then I'd want a pint of ice cream probably or a Big Belly Burger. I'm not... particularly strong though. Goodnight Mr. Queen."

He watched her walk to the street and walk down towards the only open street nearby. He watched her to make sure she hailed a cab safely, her blond hair glinting in the street lights as she sat in the cab and rode away from the unnecessary noise in front of his shallow party.

"Goodnight Ms. Smoak."

((ARROW))((ARROW))((ARROW))((ARROW))((ARROW))((ARROW))((ARROW))

So...what did you think? Please let me know. I'm hard at work on chapter two but I have to rewatch each episode with copious amounts of notes. It's coming. You can find me on Twitter Tsukikomew

Thanks!