A/N: For prompt #2 "Game On."


Interrupted Innings

John Diggle's phone rang. He looked at the screen and saw Oliver's name. Muting the Rockets game he sighed and picked it up. Without even saying hello he said, "Oliver, she's fine."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment and then Oliver growled. "That's not why I'm calling."

"Sure, man," Digg said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"I was just wondering if you'd be up for some training. I've finally got the mats installed," Oliver explained.

Digg's eyes strayed to the television screen where the Rocket's best hitter was stepping up to the plate. Between that and the fact that Lyla was bound to be home from a three-day trip in the next couple of hours, the last thing he felt like doing was hanging out in a concrete bunker with his impatient and agitated former boss. "That's great, but I've got the game on, so how about tomorrow?"

"Right, fine," Oliver said. Then there was silence again.

"What?" Digg said, knowing there was more.

"He worked for Merlyn Global, Digg," Oliver said, obvious nerves in his voice.

Digg leaned his head back on the couch and counted to five before answering. "You've already pointed that out about sixteen times Oliver. What can I say? The guy and his company check out, and this contract would pay her a bucket load of money."

"I don't like it," Oliver said.

Digg rubbed his eyes. "No kidding. But neither of us has any right to tell her what to do with her life."

Oliver went on as if Digg hadn't spoken. "And interviewing her at a restaurant on a Saturday?" He heard the sound of Oliver punching something.

As annoying as his friend's behavior was Digg let out a chuckle. "Maybe he thinks if she turns down the job he can count it as a date."

Another, louder, crash came from the other end of the phone. "Not funny, Diggle," Oliver said.

"Why?" Digg asked. "Would you have a problem with that?" If he was going to miss part of his game he was at least going to get some joy out of handing some well-deserved crap to Oliver.

"Maybe," Oliver said quietly.

Digg sat up, surprised. "Then I think you're talking to the wrong person."

There was silence on the other end of the line again, and for the first time the conversation held all of John Diggle's attention. "Oliver?"

"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about this yet, to you…to or her," he said finally.

Without thinking Digg threw up his free hand in frustration, sending the remote control skittering across his living room rug. "Then I'm not really sure I can help you out much."

"Fine," Oliver snapped. "Go back to your damn game." Without another word the call disconnected.

Diggle turned the sound back on and stood up to retrieve the remote control. An inning later his phone rang again. "These two are going to kill me," he muttered, seeing Felicity's face on the phone screen.

"Hey, Felicity," he said.

"Oliver was right, the guy was kind of a creep," she said without preamble.

All annoyance dropped away, to be replaced with real worry. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just irritated," she said. "I dry cleaned my job interview skirt for nothing."

Feeling relieved he let his focus wander back to where the Yankees had just got the second out. "He didn't offer you the job?"

"Oh, no," Felicity said. "He offered me the job, but he also talked about how much my TechConnect profile picture brought out my eyes, and how closely we'd have to work together to complete the project on time."

"And you weren't interested," Digg clarified.

"Of course I wasn't interested," she said, as if he'd suggested the craziest thing in the world.

"That creepy, huh?" Digg asked.

"Well…no," she said, sounding a bit confused. "He just wasn't my type."

"Not a masked vigilante, huh?" Digg said, unable to resist.

There was dead silence, which for Felicity was a really rare occasion. Then he heard her gasp, "You have got to be kidding me."

"What now?" Diggle asked.

There was a muffled sound of her juggling the phone a bit. "He can't give me one afternoon off?" he heard her mutter.

"Oliver's there," Digg said, not bothering to ask.

"Did you know he was coming?" she said, her anger now directed at Diggle.

He wondered if he should start charging them for relationship counseling. Of course to do that they'd have to admit they were in a relationship. "I had a feeling. Talk to him before you kill him, all right?"

"Fine," she said. "Goodbye, Digg."

John Diggle hung up the phone and wondered just how long it would be before one of them interrupted again, but as the next two innings came and went with no phone call, he hoped that maybe, finally, they'd figured it out.