A/N: 2nd chapter up; I don't know how much this is going to be continued, so subscribe at your own risk. But I have started a 3rd chapter, that hopefully I'll have up soon.

The following morning, as she woke up, Laurel felt a warm body pressing against her side. Looking around her, memories of the previous night flooded through her, making her both smile, and remember that they still had a lot of things to work through before this would really be okay.

She also remembered all of the scars she'd seen on him. She hadn't asked him about them the night before, she didn't want to say anything that might risk either of them bailing out, but as she looked at them in the soft morning light, she gently ran her fingertips over the ones exposed by the sheets covering them, wondering just what that island had done to him.

Their kiss hadn't escalated nearly as quickly as she might have expected, now that she could look back on it. In the moment, of course, she hadn't been thinking anything about the pace, her mind too consumed with simply feeling. But looking back on it, Oliver had taken his time, giving her both plenty of time to pull back, awaken from whatever haze she was in that was letting her allow him to do this with her again, and actually focusing on her, something he hadn't exactly been the best at when they were dating.

Not that it hadn't been good, but like she'd accused him of the night before, he had been just a tad bit self-centered, and she'd simply made peace with it; that part of their relationship included. But last night, he'd actually focused on her first, taking his time. It might have actually been counterproductive to his goal of giving her a chance to stop what they were doing, to realize she wasn't completely okay with it, but she wasn't complaining. She hadn't felt that good in — possibly ever.

Even now, the morning after, waking up in his bed, she certainly didn't regret it. She didn't think it was something that should become a regular thing just yet, they still had a long way to go for that, but she didn't regret it, and she hoped he didn't either.

But after tracing his scars for a while, she forced herself out of his bed, knowing she couldn't let herself be there when he woke up.

~A~

Oliver woke to find his arm resting in an empty spot, but one that was still slightly warm. She couldn't have been gone long. He looked around. There was no sign she'd ever been there, other than the warmth and smell of her that still clung to his sheets. He slipped on some clothes and headed to the kitchen, hungry but not wanting to have to see anyone yet.

He understood why she left, why she couldn't wake up with him, but it still hurt a little. Not nearly as much as sleeping with him again had probably hurt her, he knew, but it still hurt all the same.

So when he walked into the kitchen, and saw the scene before him, he stopped short. Sitting at the kitchen island, drinking a cup of coffee, sat Laurel, wearing his shirt, and seemingly nothing else. She hadn't seemed to notice his presence, her back mostly to him, as she stared out the windows into the backyard.

"Ahem," Oliver coughed, alerting her to his presence, as he moved into the kitchen.

Smiling softly to herself, Laurel casually turned around in her seat to face him, watching as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Turning back around, Oliver found Laurel watching him. Taking the seat at the island across from her, he said, "Good morning. Sleep well?"

Laurel nodded, adding, "Sorry about not being there when you woke up. I just couldn't do it."

"Its okay. I was honestly surprised to find you were still in the house."

"I really did enjoy last night, Ollie," said Laurel earnestly, not wanting him to think she regretted it, even if she couldn't wake up with him.

They lapsed back into silence for a while, taking occasional sips from their coffee, each in their own thoughts. After a while, Oliver remembered why he'd come down there in the first place.

"Hey, uh, would you like some breakfast?" he asked, standing up. "Because I'm going to make some, and I can make you some as well if you'd like."

Laurel knew what he said sounded slightly self-centered, but she knew he was just saying it that way so she'd know he already wanted something to eat — probably why he was in the kitchen in the first place — and he'd be making something whether she wanted anything or not, so she wouldn't feel bad about asking him to make her something as well. He would already be making himself something whether she took anything or not, and it wouldn't be any bother to make her something as well.

"Thank you, Oliver," she replied.

So Oliver set about making them breakfast, the room lapsing back into a comfortable silence except the sounds of him cooking. A few minutes later he sat back down, pushing a plate of food across the island to her.

As Oliver dug into his own plate, Laurel pushed her own food around her plate for a second. But before Oliver could ask what was wrong, she looked up and said, "Just so we're clear, we are not dating."

Oliver started to open his mouth to say that he never thought they were, when she continued.

"I'm not saying that because I thought that you think we are, I just want to make sure we're on the same page. Last night was great, and I really appreciate this" — here she pointed at her plate — "but it's going to take more than this before we're okay again."

Oliver nodded, amazed that she was even considering ever giving him a chance again after everything he'd done.

"Of course."

Laurel reached cross the island, gently taking his hands in hers.

"And Ollie, the first thing that's going to have to go is all the secrets you're keeping from me. I know you're trying to protect me, but last time, secrets ripped my family apart. They got us in this mess to begin with. I'm not saying you can't keep anything from me, but you have to prove to me that you really are opening up to me, and you aren't keeping anything from me that I have a right to know — like sleeping with my sister. Before I can consider making us a thing again, I have to know that I can trust you.

"Can you do that for me? Take up my offer of bringing ice cream over to my place, and tell me at least some of your secrets? Maybe start with the scars; surely those can't put me in danger."

Oliver gently turned his hands over so he could squeeze hers. "I will."

Letting each other's hands go, they returned to their meals, not saying much else. Oliver had just taken their empty plates over to the sink when Thea walked in, only seeing Laurel at first.

"Laurel! What are you doing here so early?" she exclaimed, before noticing what Laurel had on. "Wearing Ollie's shirt."

Then she noticed that her brother was also in the room, and exclaimed excitedly, "Oh!"

"Yeah…" sighed Laurel, glancing back at Oliver, who had turned from the sink at the sound of his sister's voice.

"Hi, sis."

There was an awkward silence for several seconds, before Thea broke it with an awkward, "Well, neither of you has bitten the other's head off, so I suppose that's a good thing…"

"It's fine, Thea," said Laurel, "We're okay. And since I can tell you really want to ask — it was good. Great even."

They lapsed back into silence for a while, this time a little less awkward

"So...is this going to become a thing…?"

Laurel rolled her eyes. Leave it to Oliver's sister to want them together.

"I think it's a little early to tell that," Oliver said quickly. "There's still a few issues we need to work out."

"But a repeat of last night isn't out of the question, as long as we start making some progress," added Laurel, with an internal smirk.

Oliver stared at her in surprise. Laurel merely shrugged, turning back to her coffee.