A/N: Thank you so much everyone for your reads and follows and reviews. You sure are making this long-timer lurker, first-time author feel welcome
It was weeks before she saw him again. She went on with her life, this new incarnation of her life, just as she had told him she would. By day she lived as Laurel Lance. She got a job as a clerk in a law library (it had been so long since she practiced law, since she had even thought about law, that she knew practicing it now was out of the question), she found herself a small apartment, and she spent time with her father. He was happy to have her back, she knew that, but still, their relationship was strained. She left when he needed her and if there was one regret Laurel had about her decision, it was that. But she was determined to recreate what they had had, and she knew he was trying too, and that was enough for now.
By night she lived as the Canary. She existed on the rooftops and in the shadows and she helped in any way she could. And while she knew the Arrow was out there, she never saw him. She only saw the evidence of his handy work on news reports the next day. Until one night at the docks.
She knew something big was happening. She'd handled enough drug dealers to spot them a mile away. So when she saw a few of the bigger players congregated in the area, she knew something was up. A shipment had come in most likely, of drugs or guns or something equally dangerous to the people of Starling City, and she couldn't let that happen. There were a half dozen of them. A fair number, but she was confident she could handle it.
She took them by surprise, dropping into their midst and swinging her bow staff before they knew what had hit them. Two went down, then four, but more kept appearing. It was getting harder for her to kept track of positions, of weapons, and just as she spun around from taking care of one low life, another had an assault rifle aimed point blank at her chest. But before she could react, and before he could, she felt a rush of air past her face and then the gunman was on his back, arrow through his shoulder.
She spared a glance back, even though she knew she shouldn't have wasted the time, and there he was, standing on the roof of a shipping container. His bow was raised and he was firing again and that spurred her back into action. Together they took down the threat and when everything was quiet again, he was beside her. "Let's go," he said. His voice, not coloured by the modulator, was neither angry nor gentle.
"What about this?" she asked, thinking about the dealers, their guns and their shipment.
"The police are on their way. They'll handle it from here."
Then they were in a van. It was black and non descript and being driven by someone Laurel couldn't see, though she had a pretty good idea of who it was. And though Oliver had pushed off his hood, he didn't say a word, so neither did she. But she knew better than to mistake his quiet for calm. They were back in the foundry when he confronted her.
"What were you thinking?" he snapped at her.
"I was doing my job," she snapped back.
"Those weren't thugs and gang bangers Laurel, that was the Triad. And you just jumped right into the middle of it."
"I could have handled it."
"He was going to shoot you."
"I had it under control," she insisted, her voice becoming louder. "Look Oliver, whether you like it or not, I am NOT going to stop doing what I think is right."
"I know," he said.
The answer surprised her and she was sure it showed on her face. Her mouth opened but she didn't know what to say. So he filled the space.
"I don't like this Laurel," he started, "this choice that you've made."
Despite what he was saying, his tone was gentle enough that she didn't jump to fight him.
"But," he continued, "it's your choice to make. If this is how you want to honour Sara, then I'm not going to stop you."
To say that that wasn't the answer she was expecting would be an understatement. It took her a moment before she could say "Thank you," the words breathed out in an exhale of relief and gratitude.
"You know, when I first started this," he said, "I thought I was going to do it all on my own. I thought I could do it all on my own. But I was wrong. I never would have survived this without help, without a team."
And when Laurel shifts her focus from Oliver, she sees them, the same three people as the last time he brought her here. They're focused on her, and she finds it a little unnerving. "What are you saying?" she asks.
"You could do more and be safer if you worked with us."
She didn't know what to say. She was sure the shock must have shown on her face; after her last encounter with Oliver how could it not.
"We've been watching you out there," he says. "You've worked hard Laurel, you're a skilled fighter. But there's more we could teach you."
"Ollie, a month ago you were practically forbidding me to set foot in the Glades," she says when she finds her voice again. "And now, what? You're asking me to be part of the team?"
"This is a dangerous life you've chosen Laurel," he says firmly. "But you don't have to do it alone."
"I don't need your protection," she says defensively.
"I never said that you did. But working together makes us all safer and trust me, after the island, that was not a conclusion I came to easily. But I would be dead now, so many times over, if I were doing this alone. And I don't want that for you."
Part of her wants to shout yes. She would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that working side by side with Oliver as the Arrow had been something she'd thought about, maybe even fantasized about. But the words "us" and "we" are rattling around in her brain. It's not just Oliver. Oliver she knows, but these other three, his team, are strangers.
"I don't know," she answers.
"Just consider it."
And she does. For the rest of that night and for several nights after she rolls the possibilities around in her mind. In the end it's one truth that convinces her. She can do more, take out bigger targets, leave a stronger legacy for Sara, if she works with the Arrow and his team. But she's got conditions of her own and she needs to make sure they will be met before she signs on.
She seeks him out one Saturday afternoon. He's at Verdant, but upstairs this time, standing behind the bar. The blond is with him, sitting on a bar stool with a coffee cup and a tablet in front of her. Laurel had hoped to catch him alone, but she didn't turn back. Her footsteps echoed in the empty space and she caught his eye when he looked over.
"Laurel," he said in way of a greeting. His tone was friendly and maybe, she thought, even a little hopeful.
"Hi," she said, feeling more like an awkward teenager than a fly-by-night crime fighter as she looked between the two of them. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No," Oliver answered. "Felicity and I were just having a coffee break."
"I, uh, was hoping you might have a minute to talk," Laurel said, her gazed focused on him, hoping she wouldn't have to add "alone" out loud. Her stare made her notice the way his eyes flashed to Felicity before answering her.
"Sure," he said, coming out from behind the bar. "We can use the manager's office." He held out an arm to show her the way and she walked ahead. When he closed the door behind them, she steeled herself and spun to face him.
"I've been thinking about your offer to join the team," she said.
He quirked a brow. "And?" he asked.
"And I think you're right. I can do bigger things to help this city if I work with you. Plus, having back up is a good thing for both of us. But," she added in a forceful tone, "I need some assurances from you before I agree."
"Like what?" he asks in a tone that sounds both amused and apprehensive.
"I need to know that you're not just going to keep me on the sidelines, that this isn't just some plan to get me off the streets and tucked into your safe little lair."
"That's not what my offer was about Laurel," he says, and she feels a little relief. "But," he adds, echoing her caveat from before, "you have to realize that working as part of a team means you won't always be on point. There are different roles that need to be filled every time, and we have to know that we can rely on you to do your part. We work as a unit, you need to understand that."
She took in what he said. The team, the "we", still scared her somewhat, but she agreed.
"Good," Oliver said, with the first sincere smile she'd seen on his face since she'd come back. She couldn't help but smile in return. "Meet us here at 8."
Leaving the club, she felt good. She felt that she'd made the right decision and her shoulders seemed to feel a little lighter as a result. All she could do was hope that the feeling would last.