Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Arrow or Stargate: Atlantis - though I am a die-hard fan of the last one.

A/N: This story came about because Jason Momoa played Ronon Dex on Stargate: Atlantis and now he's Aquaman in the DC Extended Universe. Also, David Nykl plays characters I love on both shows. It's also the fusion that inspired this entire collection.


Travel the Stars

Oliver woke to a searing pain on his side. He instinctively moved to sit up and assess his injuries, but his wound had him flopping back onto the bed after barely rising an inch. Sweat prickled his skin, the pain flared in one massive throb, and Oliver bit his lip to muffle his groan. His hand found the edge of his wound, on the left side of his abdomen. Could've been worse, though the pain wanted him to think otherwise.

The details prior to his waking trickled back in. The mission had started out normally enough, which guaranteed nothing in the Pegasus galaxy. Oliver had led his team, AR-7, through the Stargate for a potential first contact mission – the MALP had detected radio transmissions and higher levels of greenhouse gases. Together, both suggested a more industrialized society than those they normally met, though hopefully not another case of the Genii. As one of the few AR teams with a Pegasus native, Oliver's team was often tapped for discovery missions.

They'd stepped onto M8A-125 and things had progressively gone downhill from there. They'd headed in the direction of the transmissions source. The team's resident nerd, Dr. Felicity Smoak, had been trying different frequencies. They'd trekked half a klick through dense forest with no response to their calls when they'd reached a ravine. Roy, their neighborhood native from a planet called the Glades, had spotted signs of human tracks. They hadn't figured out how the people crossed the ravine, but somehow the tracks simply disappeared in a small clearing.

Oliver had spotted a leaning tree. Between him and Major John Diggle, they managed to topple the tree the rest of the way, creating a rudimentary bridge. The tree wasn't particularly thick, so Oliver had crossed it alone as a test. The tree had held his weight, but when he'd been about three-fourths of the way across, he'd been zapped. A jolt from an unseen source had snapped through his body, making every muscle clench. He'd fallen off the tree, unable to move. The fall hadn't been as far as he'd expected, though his landing had been punctuated with a stabbing pain to his left side. He'd heard his teammates shouting, had meant to call back to them, but then he'd passed out.

He'd landed on his side in the deceptive ravine. He'd been fully dressed in his BDU's, tac vest, and boots. Now he lay on his back and he'd been stripped of his shirts and boots. Oliver turned his head from the too-bright lights above and saw familiar looking gray-green walls.

Pant legs obscured his vision, then a woman with dirty blonde hair and green eyes knelt before him. "Try not to move. You had a bad fall, but you're safe now." She pressed a cool hand to his head, gently brushing through his short hair. Her touch felt nice, soothing.

"Where am I?" Oliver asked, but he could feel himself slipping back into unconsciousness; "Who are you, angel?"

Her hand stilled, which was disappointing. Yet he found she'd leaned over him, a rueful smile on her lips. His last thought before he drifted away was that she had a very beautiful smile.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

When Oliver woke again, the pain in his side had decreased. He was thirsty and hot under a thick, green blanket. But more than anything, he was acutely aware of her presence.

"Ah, you're awake. Feeling better?" she asked as Oliver eased the blanket down to his hips. "Yes," he grunted, trying to inch his way to a sitting position using his elbows.

"Let me help you," she pressed one hand to his back and grabbed his arm. After a little maneuvering, he leaned against the headboard. The effort left him sweating and a little dizzy. She pressed a cup to his lips and he drank greedily. Cold water soothed his throat and cleared his head. "Thank you."

His helper replaced the empty cup on the stand next to his bed. While she was occupied, Oliver assessed his surroundings. He was in a studio style apartment, much like the one he had back on Atlantis. His bed sat in a small alcove with a window that let in daylight. The far wall of his alcove had an arched doorway, likely his private bathroom. Beyond the alcove was an open space which held the bare minimum of functionality – there was a rug, a table, and two metal chairs. He couldn't see one corner of his room, hidden behind the bathroom, but light shown in from there as well. He caught his caretaker watching him and smiled at her. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Oliver Queen with the United States Air Force. Who are you?"

"My name is Laurel Lance, Lieutenant," she sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at him in return. Hers really was a beautiful smile.

"Oliver, please. Lieutenant Colonel is my rank."

"Oliver," Laurel dipped her head in acknowledgement, and he caught a whiff of her scent, lavender and something spicy; "Your military rank?"

"Yes," he confirmed, glad to see the idea didn't offend her. Sometimes it worried the natives when alien warriors visited; "Where am I?"

"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to say, at least not yet. Why did you come to this world?" Laurel pushed back her hair and when she set her hand on the bed again, their fingers brushed.

"My people are explorers. We travel the stars to meet new people, to seek alliances and trading partners. We found evidence of life on this planet and we were hoping to learn about your people, if nothing else."

"Where do you come from?"

"Earth," Oliver told her the truth, but left out he was from Atlantis. Pegasus natives often got the wrong idea when one led with that tidbit.

"You say you're an explorer seeking to meet and understand new people, yet you carried weapons of war on you."

"Not war, protection. Not everyone we meet is friendly."

Laurel nodded, acquiescing to his point. "Do you mean my people harm?"

"No, so long as they don't mean me harm."

"We do not, and you are growing tired," Laurel tilted her head, assessing him as a patient once more. Oliver found himself thinking he'd much rather have her assess him as a man; he was wholly aware of her as a woman; "Rest, Oliver. You are safe here. We'll talk more later."

"Holding you to that, angel," he murmured as Laurel tucked a pillow behind his head and sleep tugged him to darkness once more.

Laurel bit her lip, brow furrowed, a question in her eyes. Oliver reached up his hand and traced a finger along her cheek. He wanted to smooth her frown away, to see her mesmerizing grin. He almost got his wish, the hint of a smile on her lips as he drifted off.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

Oliver leaned against the wall, pausing to catch his breath. Laurel wanted him up and walking, to keep his muscles working but to take things slow so he didn't pull his stitches. They'd been meandering up and down the hall outside his room. Between the blood loss and the throbbing, Oliver knew he had a couple more days of healing before he returned to normal.

After checking his bandages, Laurel leaned next to Oliver. She smelled of vanilla and that rich spice today. Their shoulders brushed, and Oliver found her presence a nice distraction from his wound and thoughts. They hadn't discussed anything of real importance since they exchanged names, but that was likely for the best. Oliver had a feeling if he got to know Laurel too well, he'd probably have trouble going home without her.

"Did your people build this city?" he gestured to the place that reminded him so much of Atlantis. He needed to distract himself from studying her profile. The shirt she wore today accented every curve.

From what he'd seen of Laurel's home so far, the place really was like Atlantis with a few subtle differences. The green in the gray-toned walls was the first change. Then there were the window panels. As Felicity had once informed him, the windows of Atlantis weren't filled with glass but a hardier synthetic compound that looked and felt like glass. On this world, he'd seen several rooms with windows devoid of that paneling and in his own he'd discovered carefully fitted glass with a few impurities. Also, while the rooms and hall he'd passed had the same built-in lighting as Atlantis, those sconces weren't in use. A secondary light system had been installed instead, complete with wires and switches. Finally, there was all sorts of vegetation growing in pots and troughs in what little of the city he'd seen. He'd even spotted what looked like a garden from his window on what would be a landing pad back on Atlantis.

"We didn't build our home," Laurel answered him after a thoughtful second; "The Ancestors brought my people here long ago. They gave us this place as a safe haven."

"Do you know the name the Ancestors called this place?" there was a database back on Atlantis of lost Lantean ships and cities. Most were found by accident, like this one, but each find was a victory for the expedition.

"I'm afraid that knowledge has been lost over generations. Now days, we call our home the Waverider," Laurel quirked a grin at her people's lack of ingenuity.

Oliver smirked in amusement, having had a good view of out his bedroom window. Like Atlantis, this city had been built to float if needed. From what he could tell, they were on an ocean, but the water was a lot choppier than New Lantea. Not that they could feel the waves this high up.

"Why do you ask?"

"My people found a city similar to yours in our explorations," Oliver paused, weighing whether or not he should reveal the truth to her. Laurel had been nothing but open to him thus far, so he took the plunge; "Our city is called Atlantis."

"We'd heard Atlantis sank millennia ago."

"It did, then it rose again."

"That must've been an impressive sight."

"It was breathtaking," Oliver admitted. Six years later and he could still recall every moment of the rising. First, the fear; the belief they were all going to die at the bottom of the ocean. Then confusion as the pressure around them changed, the city shifting sediment and water. At last, exhilaration. The sweet relief of death averted. The kiss of daylight and gleaming metal, of a city brought back to life.

The memory still sent shivers down his spine. Though a part of Oliver itched to say she was far more breathtaking, he refrained. He wasn't Colonel Sheppard, who was known for his flirtations off-world, and the occasional liaison. Oliver had no intentions of starting a dalliance he couldn't see through, but Laurel was the first woman to tempt him in a long time.

"Your people probably know a lot about this city, the scientists of mine would love a chance to learn from yours," Oliver saw an opening to broach the idea of an alliance. Laurel looked away, trying to cover up a grimace; "What's wrong?"

"My people have rules, Oliver," Laurel sighed and looked him in the eyes, apologetic; "We've survived this long because the city is cloaked, and no one knows our secrets. We have very few allies, and none know about Waverider. My people fear what would happen if outsiders knew the truth."

"What does that mean for me?" Oliver asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.

"When your team left you for dead, I petitioned the Council to let me help you. They agreed on the condition you never leave," Laurel watched him worriedly. He could see the regret in her eyes, but the truth sucker-punched him in the gut.

"So, I'm a prisoner here," Oliver knew his tone was cold, that Laurel didn't deserve his anger after all she'd done for him. "Or would you prefer to call me a detained guest?"

"I'm sorry, Oliver."

He knew she was, but that didn't help him. He crossed the hall and punched the wall. The physical pain did nothing for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Laurel move toward him, reaching for him before thinking better of it. A good idea, because he wasn't certain what he'd do if she tried to help him now. Anger still coursed through his veins at his predicament, so he turned his back to Laurel and walked away. He needed to cool down and come up with a new game plan.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

John Diggle watched as Roy Harper trained against Ronon Dex of AR-1. The two Pegasus natives were using the fighting techniques of the Athosians, which Teyla Emmagan had taught them. They traded blows with wood sticks that reminded John of escrima sticks, but he knew these were heavier and longer than the Earth-made weapons.

Roy held his own against the Satedan, though the other man was taller and more muscular. Roy had nimbler feet and better reflexes on his side. Both former Runners were stubborn, viciously creative in their styles, and too used to surviving to call their match a draw even after a couple hours of sparring.

John wasn't ashamed to admit he wouldn't have last as long as Roy. Yes, John was a Marine with advanced combat training, but he'd also been trained in other specialties, including bomb diffusing. He could go toe-to-toe against other Marines, but he respected his limits when faced with more experienced opponents like Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan. Oliver, on the other hand, he . . .

The thought sprung unbidden in his mind and he forced himself to stop. The wound was too fresh. He'd lost his friend and teammate only a week ago. He considered it a personal failure – it should've been him first on the tree, not their team leader, but Oliver liked to lead in all endeavors. John knew it was unhealthy to blame himself. He also knew it would take time to accept the facts. And if he kept moping too long, his wife would catch on and send him to spar with Dex to knock some sense into him.

John quirked a sad smile at the thought. Then he moved into Roy's line of sight to indicate it was time to stop sparring.

Later in the afternoon, John sat with Roy at lunch when the final member of their team joined them. "Curtis and I have been running simulations with Doctor Keller. There's a thirty-four percent possibility that Oliver may have survived the fall, which would explain why AR-12 didn't find a body."

"He's dead," Roy huffed; "Accept it. We all saw him fall. He never called back to us. For all we know a predator carried off the body."

Felicity gasped, her lower lip trembled. She snatched up the laptop she'd brought to show them the data on. Then she dashed away as quickly as she'd arrived. John turned an exasperated look on Roy who shrugged, unapologetic.

"You didn't have to be so harsh. She cared deeply about him."

"We all cared for Oliver, but this isn't Earth. We can't waste energy on what-ifs. Oliver wouldn't want us to cling to false hope."

John had to conceded Roy was right. They didn't have the luxury to put their lives on hold in search of Oliver, dead or alive. And refusing to accept he was likely dead wasn't going to be healthy for Felicity in the long run. Still, John suspected Roy didn't realize Felicity had never dealt with such a close death before. She'd been a bit of a loner before she came to Atlantis and all of her family back on Earth was still alive. She was relatively new to Atlantis and this was her first personal loss. As such, Felicity was having the hardest time coping and her lack of training for such loss wasn't helping. Roy was already adjusting, so John didn't worry about him. With a sigh, he stood up to find Felicity and offer her a shoulder to lean on.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

Oliver appreciated all Laurel and her people had done for him. He understood why they desired secrecy – the Wraith may have been decimated in number over the last six years, but they remained a threat and had been a major one for millennia. In Waverider's shoes, he'd likely put the need of his people over the desires of one man. That made his task difficult, but he had a plan to get home. He needed to convince the Council he wasn't a threat to their way of life. That he could keep their secret.

"My people have encountered solitary societies before. My leaders will understand if I tell them you helped me in goodwill but sent me away with the stipulation of no further contact. Your wishes will be respected, and you'll be left to live in peace. You have my word, I'll say nothing about your city or your people which would put you in danger."

Oliver spoke from a podium in a circular room. The three Council members sat around a table on another podium several yards ahead of him. They weren't alone in the room. Laurel stood behind Oliver and a man in green and red stood to the side of the judging Council.

Oliver's explanation was a simplification of the truth. In all likelihood, he'd be grilled on his time among these people, but so long as he kept his story short and unchanging there'd be little to learn. Nothing of his treatment suggested he'd been on an Alterran city-ship, among people with understanding of Ancient technology. The IOA might squabble and demand he be reprimanded for botching a first contact, but there was no lasting danger. All they had to do was let him go, then they'd all be happy.

"The lieutenant colonel hasn't been beyond the Quarantine corridors. He's seen nothing of consequence. Surely there is no reason to deny him his people if he's willing to protect our secret?" Laurel spoke in support of his request. She understood how much he wanted to go home.

"Gifted Jones?" the Council members turned to the silent observer.

Oliver wasn't certain why the other man's presence had been requested. He suspected Jones was a doctor or specialist in some field like Laurel because she'd been acknowledged as Gifted Lance when they arrived in the chamber.

"Both speak the truth as they know it," Gifted Jones rumbled; "Yet the lieutenant colonel cannot guarantee his people won't change their minds later about respecting our wishes."

Oliver wanted to argue, but a cutting glance from Laurel kept him silent. Yes, his leaders might disregard his warnings, but Waverider had a cloak. With the cloak on, his people could search for years to no avail.

The Council conferred over his testimony and the others. There was a reddish-haired woman who seemed most sympathetic to his request. Next to her, the white-haired man in gray seemed to lead the discussion. Yet it was the youngest of their number, a bespectacled blonde with an 'S'-like symbol on her chest, who proclaimed their decision.

"Lieutenant Colonel Oliver Queen, while we respect you wish to return to your people, our original decision will not be amended. We simply cannot take the risk. Though the prospect may seem unpleasant to you now, we hope you will find a new place among our people."

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

The only upside to his lifetime imprisonment on Waverider was his release from the Quarantine zone. He'd been given a new room among the other Waveriders and allowed access to most of the city – there was some areas restricted for safety reasons, just like on Atlantis. In many ways, life on Waverider reminded him of home. The spirit of purpose, the close-knit community. These people had tackled their own hardships and come out stronger for it. They made him miss his family, his team, even more.

"Hey there Ollie, ready for a new day?" Sara Lance greeted him the second Oliver opened his door.

Sara was Laurel's younger sister and his designated guide until he found his place in the city. She was also his neighbor, living next door with her significant other. Oliver would've preferred to have Laurel as a neighbor, but she lived in a different section of the city, close to where she worked. Still, Laurel made time to see him each day, which gave him one sweet thing to look forward to every morning.

"Where are we going today?" Oliver offered Sara a brief smile. He knew the younger Lance could be serious, but she appeared to enjoy tormenting him with her cheerfulness and blatant attempts to set him up with Laurel.

"Well, Laur is giving a lecture to the newest healers all morning, so I thought we'd surprise her with lunch. Guildmember Heywood is very interested in learning more about your world's woodcraft but he's not free until this afternoon. So, I arranged for us to visit Gifted Saunders in the western gardens this morning."

Oliver nodded and followed Sara. Unlike Atlantis, the city of Waverider was mostly self-sufficient. They produced most of their own food, raised livestock on the mainland behind reflective shields, and had their own textile center on a sublevel. Their society wasn't capital driven but it wasn't completely socialist either. Everyone contributed their time and labor to the community, had a say in how resources were used, and received of the bounty. That was why it was so important to them that he find his place in their community – besides the vain hope he'd give up on his dream to return home.

He'd already worked his way through seven guilds. He had no interest in becoming a healer, lacked the patience to convey his world's history to the people holding him hostage, and he needed something more challenging than a basic educator. He may have held a degree in mechanical engineering back on Earth, but the Waveriders were far beyond his expertise. The same held true for the scientists and tech experts, though they were excited to discover his naturally expressed ATA gene – he wasn't as powerful as Colonel Sheppard, but better than Dr. Beckett. The day before he'd tried to learn their fiscal system, however the allotment-credit-quota program wasn't as simple as he thought it was.

"I've been meaning to ask, what guild do you belong to?" Oliver asked after their third stairwell. The Waveriders conserved energy by using the transporters for emergencies only – most of the city's power maintained the cloak.

"I don't belong to a guild, I'm a guard," Sara answered, dropping the overly-cheerful façade.

"What exactly does that mean? And why are some people called gifted?" he'd heard people addressing Sara as Guardian Lance. He suspected she was part of the city's defense and he was hoping to get into her guild.

"Don't ask about the Gifted, you've no chance of becoming one. And the Council won't consider you as a Guardian until they're certain of your commitment to our people," her words stung. A reminder that he was an outsider despite their embracing arms. He might've felt hurt if he wasn't actively seeking a way off the city.

"Maybe its for the best," Oliver acted as if her words hadn't phased him; "I've spent my entire adult life defending my country. This could be my second chance to do something more peaceful, explore another career I couldn't at home."

"That's the spirit," Sara playfully bumped his shoulder, teasingly bubbly again.

Sara deposited Oliver into the capable hands of Kendra Saunders, then left to run an errand. Kendra set him under the tutelage of a youth named Wally West. Oliver helped replant a variety of vegetables, which were being transported into a greenhouse for a third harvest midwinter. Part of the transport process took him close to the underbelly of Waverider – close to where the puddle jumpers were stored on Atlantis. After a couple hours of labor, when Kendra stopped eyeing him like a hawk, Oliver saw an opportunity to explore. He told Wally he needed a short break out of the sun. The kid left him with a cask of water for hydration and Oliver slipped down another hall the second he was alone.

A couple days before, one of the scientists had let slip Waverider still had several puddle jumpers. With very few of their people expressing a strong ancient gene, the ships weren't of much use. They weren't even certain how to fly the machines anymore. They were still developing an interface system for non-gene users and looking to replicate the power cells, but most jumpers hadn't been touched in generations. Oliver was hoping to fly one off the city. Once through the 'gate, he'd head to an allied world, then contact Atlantis. He'd keep his promise and never reveal Waverider's secret, but he would get back home.

He hurried down the hall, took a left, and found the stairwell he needed at the end. He heard people coming around the corner in the next hall. He ducked into a nearby room in the nick of time. There may be thousands of people living on Waverider, but he couldn't risk the chance of being recognized. He continued his quest the moment the coast was clear. He reached the entrance to what he hoped was the submerged garage. Then everything went dark.

Oliver jerked awake on the floor. The entrance to the garage was to his right. Sara knelt before him, a weapon holstered on her hip. An energy gun like Ronon Dex's and the Travelers. She wasn't alone. "Get up, Queen," Sara ordered, serious without a hint of humor. And a little hurt.

He was returned to his assigned quarters and the doors locked behind him. He didn't have much in the room, only the clothing and furniture he'd been provided. He'd made no attempts to add to the room, to personalize – how could he when he had nothing of his? In a fit of rage, he swung his chair at the wall. The blow ran down his arms and rattled his teeth. The chair survived without a scratch, but then, like most things on Waverider, it was made of the same alloy as the city-ship.

Hours later the door whisked open to reveal Laurel. She frowned at him, arms crossed as she entered the room. He regarded her from the perch he'd made next to his window. "I hope you're not contemplating another fall – that's not glass in the window."

"I'm determined, not distraught," Oliver grumbled.

"Good," Laurel answered stiffly, her stance betrayed. He dropped from his perch and stalked into her personal space.

"The puddle jumpers, they were a test."

"Yes," she tilted her head up to meet his stare.

"What happened to accepting me with open arms?"

"We have, Oliver. It's a matter of trust." He scoffed and moved back from her. They didn't trust him anymore than he trusted them, at least they could agree on that. "We want you to be happy here."

"Happy? How can I be happy? You're holding me against my will. I have family back on Earth, friends on Atlantis. That's where my life is. This place, it isn't my home. There's nothing here for me."

"That's not true," Laurel moved towards him, but Oliver stepped back to evade her. She paused in motion, hurt, and then her anger seeped in; "If you gave us a chance, you'd see."

"See what? What could possible make my life here enjoyable?" he sneered.

"Me!" Laurel cried over him, then quieted; "I thought you might stay for me."

She flushed the moment the words were out of her moth. Oliver didn't know what to say, all the anger drained out of him at her declaration. Laurel fled his room. And he couldn't follow.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

The Council kept him locked in his room for three days. They made certain he was fed and hydrated, but completely alone with his thoughts. At the end of his solitude, a council member came to his room and explained to him the new restrictions on his movements and the punishments for further infractions. Oliver didn't really care.

The second he was allowed out, he went to find Laurel. He'd had plenty of time to consider her confession. His attraction to her wasn't one-sided, a realization that was both a relief and a burden. He knew he was never going to stop fighting to return home. The Waveriders may have put him on a leash, but he'd find a way. If nothing else, he'd show them he could be trusted and maybe, one day, they'd let him go. But he couldn't have his dream and Laurel too.

He found her in the infirmary. He watched her distract a little girl while giving her a shot, then she congratulated her brave patient with a piece of candy. When Laurel noticed him watching, her smile turned surprised and a faint blush found her cheeks. She hurried towards him but didn't stop until she'd led him to an empty overflow room for patients.

"About what I said, before, forget it. I shouldn't have said anything," she announced in a rush, barely making eye contact.

"What if I can't forget? Because I don't want to," that wasn't what he'd meant to say, but the second the words were out he didn't regret them. Not when Laurel jerked her head up to study him so hopefully.

"No," she shook her head; "You need to. It was wrong of me to ask you to stay for me. You'd only blame me in the long run, hate me."

Her tone was too final. He feared her next words would be the suggestion they stay away from each other. That was the last thing he wanted. If he couldn't have her, he wanted her friendship at least. He grabbed her hand and reeled her closer.

"I'm stuck here, Laurel, and I won't deny that I hate it, but I found you in the process. I don't want to lose you," the truth bubbled forth.

Laurel cupped his face, drawing closer to him. "I don't want to lose you either," she admitted softly.

"Stay with me," he lowered his head.

"We shouldn't," she tilted her head upward in invitation. Oliver agreed with her but closed the distance anyway.

Their lips brushed together teasingly and the spark that followed took his breath away. He tugged her flush to his body and pressed his mouth firmly against hers. She opened to him and they tasted each other. She tasted like the mint tea he knew she drank for breakfast. She smelled of that tangy spice and felt warm and supple in his arms. He let himself get lost in her.

It could easily take years to convince the Waveriders to trust him enough to send him home. It probably would, he reasoned. And in that case, he wanted no regrets. He wanted to see what might grow between himself and Laurel. Perhaps, when he was finally free, she'd love him enough to go with him – he'd see it happen before with Diggle and his wife, Lyla, and they were happy. Oliver wanted to take that chance with Laurel.

They broke apart, panting. Their foreheads pressed together. Laurel had her hands around his shoulders and head. He had one arm around her waist, the other tangled in her hair. He opened his eyes and smiled at her. Then stole a second, lingering kiss.

"Ollie," she murmured when he pulled back. There was want in her tone, but hesitation too.

"Think about it," he whispered back, then let her go.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

Oliver woke to an empty bed. The smell of breakfast told him why. Fried potatoes, eggs, and toast; food that smelled the same on most worlds. He tracked down his pants, then padded over to the kitchenette where Laurel was cooking. "Good morning," she greeted as he slipped his hands around her waist. "Morning," he murmured between the kisses he layered on her exposed shoulder.

"Breakfast's almost ready," her breath hitched as his lips found her neck.

"Mmm, tastes good," he nibbled on her. She laughed and twisted in his arms. Placed a finger on his lips. "Ollie," she gave him a stern look. He kissed her finger.

"I love you," he whispered, pulling her close.

"I love you too," she melted into his embrace.

They kissed deeply as he carried her back to bed.

Oliver was whistling as he walked into the workshop later that morning. He was the first one in, like normal, and he used the time to inspect his helpers' work – not all of them were willing to admit when they were struggling on a piece.

"Sounds like someone had a good morning," Joe West greeted as he tromped in. He was normally the second man through the door and the most senior guildmember to join Oliver's division. "What do you think of these?" Joe handed over a patch of cloth. The patch had what was supposed to be a chisel reshaped to resemble an 'A' in front of a bundle of wood. The chisel looked more like an arrowhead, but there would be no doubt to which guild they belonged to.

"Not bad, I take it the Guild Council approved our new chapter," Oliver went to tack the patch next to the door, so everyone could see.

"They have. We are officially the fifty-second division of the Artisan Guild."

Oliver had learned carpentry from his grandfather and took up woodcarving as a hobby. He'd taught the basics to some of the guys back on Atlantis to decompress, but he'd never considered his skills valuable. On Waverider, his knowledge was a scare commodity. After generations of living on a technologically advanced city, many skilled trades had been lost. He'd been teaching his skills to anyone who wanted to learn, and his efforts had produced several unexpected results, besides a whole new chapter of the Artisan Guild.

The Waveriders relied on machines to make most things for them, and while they could build or fix the machine, they didn't know how to do the machine's job. It was a gap in their knowledge that vexed the younger generations. As such, what knowledge Oliver had to offer had attracted the interest of men and women in a variety of fields. Take Joe for example, he'd been a musician for most of his life, but had proven himself to be a quick study of carpentry and great second-in-command.

"Looks like two of new recruits are sticking around," Joe noted as he and Oliver went over the day's to-do list; "Zari's going to be happy."

Zari had been a journeywoman in the Technology Guild, now she taught the new recruits the more basic pieces: buttons, whistles, even combs and utensils, all of which were in high demand on Waverider. Zari was a bit of a task-masker, but she helped them weed out those who really wanted to learn the craft from those just wanting to tinker.

"You still up for the specialty requests with the Palmers today?" Oliver checked, and Joe affirmed he was. Chairs, dressers, and tables were harder to make but Oliver trusted Joe to come to him if there were any problems. "Good; then that leaves the Rogues to handle the Artisan requests while I tackle the Historians." Joe chuckled at Oliver's nickname for their occasionally trouble-making apprentices.

While they had a backlog of everyday requests to keep the newbies busy, the Guilds were in many ways the worst when it came to lists of things they'd like to try out in wood. The Commerce Guild had taken precedent until recently, because they could actually sell wood tools and the everyday requests off-world. Their new wares allowed them to import novel commodities they couldn't earlier, because of their leeriness to give away technology other worlds weren't ready to handle.

"Guildmaster Danvers wants you to check the next shipment of axes before they go out," Joe reminded Oliver as they finished up the list.

"Me?" All Oliver had helped do was make the handles and insert the blades, the Engineering Guild had provided the metal that wouldn't dull. It wasn't like he would know how to sell the tools to less developed worlds, so he didn't see what they needed his input for.

"Yes, Oliver, you. You didn't notice, but you've been single-handedly building this workshop into a chapter for months. Once our numbers reach fifty, the Guild Council will name you Guildmaster and they'll expect you to take up all the duties that entails. Right now, they're teaching you the job one aspect at a time, the way you've been teaching us."

"No pressure then," Oliver joked, though he realized with a jolt Joe was right.

He'd been on Waverider for nearly eight months now. Taking his hobby and building it into something meaningful kept him distracted. Falling in love with Laurel and starting a life with her had been the real focus of his life. Now, he was happy, happier than he'd been in a long time. He still wanted to go home, but he was settling in for the long haul. Besides, there were somethings he didn't miss about Atlantis. He'd been fighting so long, he hadn't realized until he stopped how tired he was. Life on Waverider was simpler, calmer, and with Laurel to share the moments, he'd relaxed into his new role without noticing.

"Time's a-wasting; better get to work," Oliver clapped Joe on the back, then went to chat with Ray who'd just arrived and had a chair that needed some extra work.

Later in the day, Oliver was overseeing the installation of shelves in the greenhouse. Senator Kara Danvers joined him, curious to see the project. She was Guildmaster Alex Danvers' younger sister and they'd been part of the trio to deny his request to return home. Oliver suspected Kara was there to check on him as well, but he didn't let his suspicions show. He was mostly there to compliment Winn and Ralph, who'd built the shelves as their first unsupervised project; for part-time apprentices they'd come a long way in a short time.

The last shelves were just set, and everyone was admiring the handiwork when the day turned for the worse. The next few minutes happened in a flash. They felt the rumble before they heard the explosion as the gas and fire sought an exterior outlet. Oliver was quick on Kara's heels. Outside the greenhouse they could see the dark smoke billowing out of a hatch six levels above them. "It's a training lab," Kendra identified. Kara tapped her communicator band and someone on the other end reported there were people still trapped near the blaze. Healers were en-route on the transporters.

"There's a transporter near us that can get us there," Oliver noted.

"Where?" Kara asked.

Oliver led Kara, Kendra, and Ralph to the nearest one. The transporters were used regularly on Atlantis and all base personnel were trained how to note and use them. Oliver had continued the habit, even though the transports were mostly ignored on Waverider. Thanks to his foresight, he was able to transport them to the affected hall in seconds.

The healers and other emergency personnel were already there and at work, Laurel among them. Oliver joined a group seeking the injured – the Waveriders knew he could handle himself in stressful situations and gladly accept his aid.

Smoke still clogged the halls, even if the fires had been beaten back into a few rooms. Several sections of the ceiling were structurally unsound, but Oliver wasn't concerned about his own well-being. He found a boy in his late teens trapped beneath a ceiling beam and partial wall. "Hey, what's your name kid?" he asked while assessing the damage.

"Jax," the kid said between coughs.

"My name's Oliver. Don't you worry Jax, we'll get you out of here quick," he kept his tone calm and confident. Then he called for help.

The situation was a mess. They'd need at least eight strong men and a jury-rigged wedge-and-lever. They'd have to move fast and loose, because once they had the wall off Jax, there was a good chance the entire ceiling would collapse. It might even collapse before then.

"Can you pull him out alone?" Kara was the first to respond. When Oliver affirmed that he could, she nodded sharply; "When I tell you, move him."

Before he could voice a question, Kara singlehandedly lifted the wall and beam off Jax.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

His clothes still smelled of smoke, though he'd cleaned off the soot. Oliver sat outside the infirmary, waiting. Waiting on news for Jax, to see Laurel, and waiting on an explanation. The affected halls had been cleared of all casualties. The fires put out. No one was dead. The good news did little to make Oliver feel better.

A thousand possibilities were whirling through his mind, well not a thousand per se, but he had concerns. He could at least rule out the Replicators, he would've noticed before now if they were a surviving off-shoot; those metal bugs couldn't fake human this long. As far as he knew, the Goa'uld hadn't left the Milky Way. So, unless the Waveriders were actual descendants of the Lanteans, ones not interested in ascension, he was at a loss to explain what he'd seen.

"Oliver," Laurel found him, nervously brushing back her hair.

"How are you?" he asked, because even with everything else tumbling through his head, he needed to hear the words. Scanning her for injury wasn't enough. "I'm fine, I –

"How's Jax?" he interrupted her because he wanted to keep the simpler questions first.

"He's good. Some bumps and bruises but nothing that can't heal on its own."

"Okay. Good. Now will you explain how a woman half my size lifted a wall off that kid?"

"It's complicated, Oliver," she hovered near him like a bird unwilling to land.

"Laurel, I've watched the Wraith suck the life out of my friends, flown through space in a city just like this. Heck, I'm not even from this galaxy. I can handle complicated. What I don't like is secrets and being lied to my face."

"You remember how I told you this city was given to my ancestors as a safe haven? The Lanteans protected us, because of what they did to us. What they feared the Wraith and other races might discover."

"Do you mean all of you can do what Kara did?"

"No," Laurel shook her head; "The genes are recessive and not everyone inherits enough to express an ability. And as with every being, each ability is unique to their makeup and development."

"The Lanteans gave you these abilities, how? Why?" Oliver wasn't unsettled with the idea. He'd been living an impossible dream nearly seven years now.

"They were trying to make us stronger, capable of fighting the Wraith. From what we understand of their records, they augmented different genes to further our evolution. They wanted to make us more like them, but they added something extra, and it produced a result they weren't expecting."

"And that was?" Oliver prompted when she paused. Laurel looked down at their hands when he grabbed hers and pulled her closer. Then she smiled hesitantly at him. "When the Wraith fed on a Gifted, the Gifted didn't die. He became a monster. The Lanteans realized that the extra bit they added was the cause, meaning all Gifted were at risk of becoming monsters. They couldn't undo what they'd done, and it was against their morals kill us. So, they left us here and told us to hide from everyone."

"You call those with abilities, Gifted?" Laurel bit her lip and nodded. She was Gifted. "Were you ever going to tell me?" he couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice, but he didn't let her go.

"I wanted to Ollie, I wanted to so bad, but telling you would ruin any chance of you returning to your people. Now that you've seen, now that you know, the Council will never risk letting you go," Laurel pulled away from him, a single tear caressing her cheek as she braced herself.

Oliver felt the weight of her words, the knowledge that trust would never be enough. If he hadn't volunteered to help, hadn't found Jax under that wall, then he might've had a chance to go home. Now these people, this city, were his only future. He looked at Laurel, who was ready for him to lash out, to never forgive her, and his indignation faded. She'd kept secrets to protect him, to shelter his dream to leave. She'd fallen in love with him, knowing he might not stay and that she couldn't go with him when he left.

He wrapped her in his arms after brushing away her tear. He pressed his forehead to hers. "Trust me," he pleaded. Laurel answered him with a kiss.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

Oliver and Joe took a couple apprentice-journeymen to help the engineers stabilize the torched halls. The wooden joints and walls would buy the reconstruction crew additional time to assess the internal damage and allow them to rebuild with care. Normally, the Waveriders cordoned off the affected sections, slapped up new walls, and then usually had to install replacements in shifts as they worked out the kinks.

"How often do mishaps like this happen?" Oliver asked. Now that the secret was out, Laurel had explained that Jax had been the source of the explosion, trying to master his power.

"More often than we like, but not usually to this degree. Pyrokinetics like Jax are rare," Cisco, one of the engineers, explained as he checked the exposed crystals in a wall. Cisco was also Gifted, a chorokinetic.

"The last pyro to catch a hall on fire was Ronnie Raymond, a kid in my daughter's year," Joe mentioned. Oliver had met Iris West once, she was about his age and a Guardian like Sara; "But Ronnie didn't cause any lasting damage. The pyro before him, he nearly destroyed a wing."

"Really? Do I know him?"

"Gifted Stein." Oliver gawked, thinking the men were pulling his leg until he saw the Lance sisters nodding. He found it hard to believe that the grandfatherly scientist, who could at times rival Dr. McKay for ego, was a pyrokinetic. He just seemed too nice, even if he could get aloof when it came to his passions.

"Of course, pyros aren't the only ones known for causing trouble," Sara hinted. She'd been hanging around Oliver more lately, probably watching in case he tried to run. He tried not to take it personally.

"Sara," Laurel shot her sister a warning glance.

"You?" Oliver finished nailing a board in place. Then he let Joe inspect their handiwork while he faced his paramour. She'd been shy about discussing her ability with him. It was part of the reason he'd volunteered his time to reconstruction, he knew Laurel would be using her ability to help as well.

"I'm the only sonokinetic on Waverider, there was a learning curve," Laurel shrugged defensively.

"She once screamed so hard she shattered the glass in every apartment up our hall. She even shorted the electrical breaker."

"In other words, I'd better never make her angry because she'll win any argument," Oliver teased as he tugged Laurel into his arms. Sara laughed, agreeing with him while Laurel huffed and snuggled into his embrace.

"I'm all done here, Laurel. If you'd like to give us a song," Cisco finished replacing a couple of crystals then stepped back.

Laurel wigged away from Oliver. She knelt next to the crystals and let out a single, perfectly pitched note. The crystal glowed softly and echoed the A-note. Laurel closed her eyes and went through the entire scale. The crystals sung each note back to her. Oliver could barely discern the soft hum, but Laurel swayed, hearing so much more. After the last note, Laurel rose; "Cisco, you should take a second look at the power relay junction to this sector. There was a delay at E, the response was flat. Everything else looks fine."

"All right, I'm on it," Cisco waved and trotted away.

Their work was done, so Oliver lured Laurel back to their place. He was in the middle of showing her how hot he found her gift when all the power in their apartment went out. Oliver wasn't particularly concerned and continued to trail kisses along Laurel's neck. He'd just reached her clavicle when Laurel stiffened and pushed him off her. "Something's wrong."

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

The chair dipped backward, blue lights glowing. Oliver felt Waverider come alive in his mind. The city tried to dump a thousand problems on his lap, but he reorganized the neuro-response to give him only the most critical based on his criteria. The data re-filtered, highlighting the issues he needed to address.

"Colonel Queen, are you still with us?" Martin Stein's voice interrupted the flow of information.

"I hear you, and you were right. The fluctuations in the power coils were a sign of something bigger," Oliver said, simultaneously analyzing the specific problem while seeing how it affected the rest of the city. "There's been serious degradation in the main junctions on the entire eastern wing, two of the relays on the northeast and southeast wings, and another four between the other wings."

"What? How is that possible? How could we not have noticed in all this time?" Martin sounded aghast.

"There's a minor flaw in the leading crystals you've replaced in those coils. At first, the other junctions compensated for the errors, but the more replacements you added, the more strain it put on the entire system."

"Until I took a closer look and accidently tripped a security protocol that pushed the power system over the top," Cisco finished.

"Yes. I've identified the flaw in the crystals. I'm sending the data to the central computer for review and correction," Oliver pushed one problem out of the way, then pulled up thirteen connected problems to sort through next. "I'm going to try and reroute around the affected junctions. That should stop any further degradation to the rest, but you'll have to give up the training labs until the coils are fixed."

"An acceptable price for our own folly – if not for Gifted Jackson, we might not have found this problem until it was too late."

Oliver was barely paying attention, too focused on the obstructions in his mind. He couldn't simply reroute all the power from one junction to another, that would put too much strain on the second. He needed to split the lines between multiple junctions and check that he didn't overwhelm any secondary junctions in the process. Moreover, he had to conduct the rerouting at roughly the same time for all affected coils or else he'd trip another security protocol and they'd have to start from the very beginning.

He was just beginning the reroutes when the city's power level dipped.

"Oliver, we've lost the cloak," Cisco warned him, though he already knew. Oliver cursed and worked faster, but there was only so much time he could shave.

"There, done. Restarted cloak," he said, the cloak back up before he even finished speaking. He heard the others sigh in relief, but he didn't. He accessed Waverider's sensors, adjusting for the power drain, and cast out with his mind. Short range sensors showed no threats. Good. But there, on the edge of his long-range scan . . . Oliver swore colorfully.

Wraith.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

Roy Harper had fought the Wraith all his life. He'd fought for his planet, his people, and had watched them fall to the dominate predators. He'd been turned into a Runner for the Wraiths' entertainment but had eventually found his way to Atlantis. He'd found a new home with these people, but it had been Oliver Queen who first made him feel welcome. Oliver had been his first brother among these strangers and Roy still felt the lieutenant colonel's loss. Which only made it harder for his to like the new guy.

In fact, Roy had stopped trying all together.

They'd needed a fourth member on their team. Someone with a military background because, despite her claims, Felicity was useless in a firefight. Colonel Sheppard had put John Diggle in charge of AR-7 rather than force a new leader on them and Dig had chosen Sergeant Rene Ramirez to be their fourth. Rene was a good marine – disciplined in the field, focused in a battle, and an excellent tactician. Roy could tolerate him fine off-world, but the man was obnoxious on base. Even Felicity agreed. He grated on Roy's nerves whenever they tried to do "team-bonding" as badly as Felicity had when Roy was first getting to know her. Only this time he didn't have Oliver there to help him understand Rene's perspective.

"Ah, smell that? The crisp scent of civilization. I don't know about you dogs, but I sure do need a shower. Nature living like those dogs on M3R-647 does not agree with me," Rene started in before they even crossed the event horizon back to Atlantis and Roy couldn't wait to get away from him.

"Major Diggle, a word," Woolsey called before they'd cleared the embarkation room.

Felicity and Roy shared a look, but Rene trotted off to the showers complaining of an itch down his back. After a second, Felicity left, but Roy remained. When John rejoined him, Roy could tell it wasn't good news. "Barry wants to meet," was all he said. Roy stiffened immediately.

They left Rene on Atlantis because he'd never met Barry before, and Barry didn't like strangers. Ronon Dex filled in as their fourth. Like Roy, he believed, once a Wraith, always a Wraith. They found the hybrid, thanks to Michael's experiments, waiting for them just beyond the stargate. Ronon's hand found the butt of his weapon while Roy fingered the safety on his gun. They both snarled at the hybrid who'd brought three former drones as back up. John held up a hand, telling them to ease up. Barry eyed them in amusement.

"Barry," John nodded his head politely.

"Major Diggle. I heard that Colonel Queen was lost . . . my sympathies on your loss."

"If that's all you called us here for . . ." Ronon growled dangerously.

"I was trying to be polite," Barry retorted with a small glare. "I asked you here because I have information to trade."

"What could you know that we'd want?" Roy retorted, feeling more on edge the longer Barry dragged this out.

"How about the location of another city-ship like Atlantis? Does that interest you? Because I have the exact coordinates for one, but if you want it, you'll have to move quick. An armada of Wraith are on their way there as we speak."

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

The full Senate had been convened with guild and guardian representatives. The news that a Wraith fleet was on the way had spread like wildfire and unhappy, fearful murmurs filled the room. Oliver stood with Laurel in the audience section; the city leaders fluctuated above them on a raised platform that stood nearly four feet off the floor. The room was packed, yet everyone could hear clearly thanks to the wrist communicators all Waveriders wore.

"In light of the overwhelming odds and the fact the cloak cannot be extended beyond the city, the Senate and the council agree our best course of action is to evacuate to a new world. We hope that when the Wraith arrive and find the city empty, they will eventually leave, allowing us to return home," Kara Danvers announced. Then the meeting was open to those below, to permit them to voice their opinions.

"Where will we go?" one woman cried.

"At this time, no decision has been made. We are considering various worlds, weighing which will best support us if permanent settled is required," Gifted Jones spoke as the head of the Guardians.

"Why can't we fly Waverider to this new planet. Now that we have one with the gene and knowledge to do so?" This question produced a chitter of excitement. A hope most hadn't considered.

"Colonel Queen may have the knowledge, but the simple fact is the city doesn't have the power," Martin Stein explained, after quieting the masses.

"Why don't you fight?" Oliver asked in the mournful silence that followed; "Not with the Gifted, but with the technology you've built, and that left by the Ancients. This city has shields which can be expanded to the mainland. You have the puddle jumpers and drones which are more than enough to take on a Wraith fleet."

"We do not have a working interface and no other viable users besides you, Colonel Queen," Kara replied tiredly.

"Then ask for help. Atlantis has ATA-gene carriers. They know how to use the tech as well as I do. Those on Atlantis have fought the Wraith for years. They've destroyed fleets like this one before. They'd be happy to help you protect this world, this city. If you're willing to fight for you home, they'll fight with you."

"If we fight and win, others will learn about Waverider, but that doesn't mean we can't hide the Gifted," Laurel added. She gave Oliver's hand a gentle squeeze but didn't look at him. "If we run, we'll lose our home, all the protections and comforts this city offers. We'll be at the mercy of the Wraith and the few allies we have, and the Gifted will be at risk constantly."

"Waverider is all I've ever known. I don't want to give her up without a fight. And I don't want to put my son at risk of the Wraith's touch," Joe West spoke above the dissent Laurel's observations had produced; "If Oliver believes his people will aid us, then I want to fight. To protect my children and my home."

He wasn't the only one. Another voice cried out, a call to defend what was theirs and more voices echoed the sentiment. Soon enough, majority of the audience had presented their opinions and the decision was made.

They would fight.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

The puddle jumper landed a couple yards from the stargate. He and Gate Specialist Anatoly climbed out to find Kara and her cousin, Clark, already waiting for them. Anatoly set to work immediately, attaching the leads that would allow them to see and speak with those on Atlantis once they dialed in. (Waverider's gateroom had long ago been converted into a daycare.)

"You know, you remind me of a scientist back on Atlantis," Oliver made some small talk as he watched Anatoly worked.

"Does he drink as poorly as you?" Anatoly quipped in his strange accent. Like Oliver, he was a transplant to Waverider. Unlike Oliver, he had no home to go back to and had been happy adapt to the Waveriders' lifestyle.

"I don't think so," Oliver replied. He really only knew Zelenka in passing.

"Then maybe there is hope for him."

"Are we ready?" Kara interrupted, seeing Anatoly had stopped working. "We are," he confirmed.

"Then let's do this," Oliver said. He dialed the address he'd called home for years.

The inner ring spun. The lights glowed. Then with a kwoosh, the connection was made. Oliver stepped in front of the camera at Anatoly's direction. On the screen, Colonel John Sheppard appeared.

Three hours later, Oliver stood before a group of councilmembers and guardians. He was explaining the defense plan he and Colonel Sheppard had mocked up and what that meant for the Waveriders. Atlantis was sending five teams to back the guardians in defense of the city. Twenty of the expedition's best pilots would use Waverider's puddle jumpers to engage the Wraith darts while Colonel Sheppard used their chair. The Hammond was en-route but would likely arrive late to the battle.

"What will your people expect in return?"

"I promised them nothing. They'll expect a dialogue to open with your people, but they understand that guarantees nothing," Oliver answered. Kara nodded, she'd agreed on behalf of her people to a meeting with the Atlantis expedition after the battle.

"They'll hope to get information out of me when I report of my time here, but I won't divulge your secrets," Oliver assured the leaders. He knew Gifted Jones could sense the truth in his words.

The Atlanteans would be interested in trading with the Waveriders. Especially once they learned the scientists on Waverider could produce new drones for the chair and puddle jumpers. Oliver was reasonably certain they wouldn't have to sacrifice their privacy, if they played their cards right.

Once he'd satisfied their questions about the city-ship's defenses and covered the best way to minimize the risk to the Gifted, he was freed. Oliver tracked down Laurel. She was helping move people from the outer wings to the main spire. He was waylaid a couple times to aid those he knew and once to lend a hand with a very heavy aquarium.

Oliver found her in the west wing working with Sara. The Lance sisters put him to work immediately and without much speaking. As night began to fall, their efforts petered out as people headed off in search of food, company, and a good night's rest. Laurel led Oliver back to their apartment, clinging tightly to his hand. He knew she wasn't just worried about the Wraith. He tried to talk to her, but she shushed him.

The second the door to swished shut behind them, Laurel kissed him hard. She pressed him against the wall. "I love you," he murmured, trailing kisses along her jaw. "I know," she clung to him as if afraid he'd disappear all the same. He kissed her deeply, pushing her back towards the bed. He'd show her she had nothing to worry about.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

Oliver sat the helm of the puddle jumper. For a moment, he let himself enjoy the feeling of the ship. The controls beneath his hands, the strange but comforting sensation of his connection with the jumper in the back of his mind, and the limitless possibilities of space before him. Man, he'd missed this. On the edge of his consciousness, he could sense the other jumpers getting into position in a defense pattern around Waverider's homeworld.

"Alright boys and girls listen up. We've got ourselves a nice little armada about to exit hyperspace to destroy this fine city I'm sitting in," Colonel Sheppard drawled through the Earth-based coms; "We aren't going to let that happen. Now, make sure you dot your I's and cross your T's because we've got some new allies to protect and impress. Especially after all they've done for one of our own."

The Wraith arrived. Oliver sensed them drop out of hyperspace through the jumper's sensors. Eight hive ships. The largest fleet they'd seen in a while. They sped towards the planet perpendicular to the system's sun. The puddle jumpers held their formation.

"The Waveriders have activated their ARGUS system. Let's see what tricks our friends have up their sleeve."

Darts launched from the hive ships when the Wraith were still minutes out from the planet. The larger ships began to slow, to let their smaller fighters take the brunt of puddle jumpers' defense. Before the darts could attack the jumpers, they had to pass through a small asteroid belt that ringed the planet. There they discovered the first trap. Mines.

The mines had been laid deep in the field, growing thicker as the edge to the planet neared. This meant the darts were well into the asteroid belt before they encountered the trap, where escape wasn't so easy. This played out well for the defenders as dozens of darts exploded at once. Oliver pulled up a display in the jumper so that he could see the symphony of destruction as many darts bravely continued to punch forward and die for their stupidity. Those that turned back had a fifty-fifty chance of survival.

The two closest Wraith hive ships were pushing into the asteroid belt when the mines were discovered. They didn't have time to course correct and go around as the remaining hive ships tried to do. Those two ships took heavy damage as they cleared a path through the belt. Oliver's hands tensed above the control panel of his jumper, but he held his position a little longer.

A pulse emitted from the planet's moon once the hive ships cleared the mine field. Three hives and their entire dart entourage were hit the EMP-like pulse and lost all power. Darts on the edge of the pulse wave lost partial power and caused havoc among their number. The Wraith continued to press forward. The darts spread out – they were seconds out from the first line of defense.

The first wave of jumpers rolled into motion. Oliver among them. He was toward the center of the wing patterns. While the outer puddle jumpers would be corralling the darts back in, his job was to punch forward into the thick of the Wraith fleet. He did so with determination and effort. Targeting one dart after another and destroying them while dodging their return fire. He even lobbed a couple drones at a hive ship as he passed under the belly of the beast. Then he was on the other side of the oncoming fleet. He zipped towards the asteroid belt, to clear out any straggling darts. Then it was back to the fight, attacking the Wraith from behind as the second wave of defense struck from the front.

The Wraith ships and darts returned fire, scoring hits along the shields of the puddle jumpers but not taking any out immediately. The Wraith drifted forward, intent on surrounding the planet and bombarding it from space until there was no life, no city, left. Oliver got lost in the maneuvers of fight, taking full advantage of the inertia dampeners that protected him from the wild tricks he used. Spinning 180-degrees to avoid a dart's blasters, coming to an immediate stop so that two darts flew over head for easy pickings, or engaging the cloak and attacking a cluster of darts from above.

An insistent, obnoxious alert warned Oliver, breaking his concentration just in time. He wasn't the only puddle jumper to swerve back from the killing zone between the planet's moon and atmosphere. The Wraith had only seconds to realize something was up before the satellites finished targeting. Then the bombardment began. The hive ships at the center of the armada were the most protected from the energy beams that cut through the rest of the fleet like ribbons. The Wraith were taking heavy damage, two more hives looked ready to implode, and Sheppard rounded out the attack with drones from the city.

The Wraith fired back. They targeted the satellites first while many darts sacrificed themselves to protect the hive ships from the drones. The remaining darts charged towards the city, it's location easily found now that the chair was active.

Oliver and nine other puddle jumpers chased the darts into the planet's atmosphere. Reentry was a hassle and took most of his focus while he also targeted several darts. He barely registered the arrival of the Hammond – the final nail in the armada's coffin. Oliver cleared reentry and opened fire on the first dart he found. He tore through them, one after another, often fighting in tandem with other jumpers. Of course, once they'd clean up one wave of darts, another would follow. Though the number of darts entering atmo dropped with each new wave.

"Queen, I've got three bogeys inbound in your sector. They're coming in low," Sheppard called out. Oliver cursed for having missed them, but fixated on ending the threat, not berating himself.

He found the darts rising from the ocean, minutes out from Waverider. His jumper was limping from a hit to the rear starboard, but he coaxed a little more speed out of his engines. He blasted one dart into a watery grave before it could completely clear the waves. The other darts tagged him twice in return. His teeth rattled at the hits – his shields were down to 9%. Sweat dripped off his chin as he zigged and zagged, honing in on his next target. The darts were still beneath him. Oliver matched paces with one, then dropped in a spiraling descent. He fired.

Two down. One to go.

He spun the jumper forward and chased after the final dart. They were close enough to Waverider that Oliver could see the city out the window. He targeted the dart. Fired. Nothing happened. A millisecond later he registered the depletion status of his drones. No ammo. Oliver cursed, then egged his jumper forward. He strained the engines as much as they could take, because there was no way he was letting that dart into Waverider.

He sped ahead of the dart, then pivoted his jumper to face the oncoming threat. Channeling his remaining reserve power to engines and shields, Oliver charged at the dart for a head-on collision. Less than forty miles out. The space between their ships closed rapidly. Thirty miles. Oliver held steady. "Come on you leech, I don't want to die today," he grunted. Twenty miles.

At the last second, the dart tried to pitch below the jumper. The pilot didn't account for the downward draft created by the jumper as it passed overhead. The nose of the dart dipped lower than expected and the pilot lost control of his craft for one too many precious seconds. The dart flipped onto its side as the pilot over corrected and then the Wraith ship crashed into the waves below and failed to rise – Oliver doubted the crash killed the pilot, but he noticed a large, dark shape under the waves heading for the dart and suspected that would take care of the problem.

Oliver slowed his puddle jumper and returned to scanning the skies and ocean for any more hostile targets. When the cheering started, his battle-fogged brain took a moment to understand what the sound meant.

"Nice job out there, Queen, for a rust bucket," Colonel Sheppard jibed.

Oliver chuckled in appreciation, smiling in relief. Waverider was safe.

Arrow-Arrow-Arrow

Oliver's engines gave out on the return trip to Waverider. He managed a controlled, if bumpy, crash into the waters a couple miles out from Waverider's eastern launch pad. One of the ground crews sent a second puddle jumper to tow him in. The second his feet touched ground, Oliver checked in with the repair crews but was told they didn't want his help until he was rested. Kendra caught his arm and started hustling him to the infirmary to get checked over, but she had to let him go when a runner reported a problem in one of the gardens.

Oliver set off on his own for the infirmary. Not to get checked over but to check on someone else. He passed a few Atlantis personnel on his way as they helped the guardians search for any sneaky Wraith that may have boarded the city unnoticed. He nodded to a few of his casual friends, both Atlantean and Waverider. He shared in the salutations offered and victory grins, but he pressed on to his goal.

"Oliver!" a familiar voice called when he was only a couple corridors away from his goal.

He turned around with a smile as Roy and the rest of AR-7 surged into view. "It's good to see you," Oliver shared a forearm hug with Roy and clapped Diggle on the back. He nodded politely to Rene Ramirez, then whoofed in surprise when Felicity wrapped him in a tight hug.

"I'm so glad you're alive. I'm so sorry we left you for dead," she squeezed him tightly, then let him go. "Obviously, you weren't dead, and I should've suspected that something like a holographic projector was in play."

"Felicity, it's okay. It wasn't your fault. What happened was on me, and the Waveriders. Don't beat yourself up for something you couldn't have known or done," Oliver assured her, but his message was for his whole team.

"Objectively, I know that. Still, I'm just super glad you're alive because it will make the guilt easier to get over," Felicity smiled at him. Oliver smiled back at all of them, happy that they were alive and well too.

"There's someone I want you guys to meet," Oliver gestured for his former team to follow him.

He led them to the infirmary and Laurel spotted him immediately. The hair she'd so neatly pulled back into a bun was coming loose. There was a soot stain on her cheek and odd splotches on her healer's tunic, but she was uninjured. A little worn out, but whole and alive. He swept her up into a hug and kissed her in relief. His actions answered any concerns she might've had for his well-being.

"Laurel, I want you to meet my teammates. This is Felicity, Roy, and John. Rene there, I do believe, is my replacement. Guys and Felicity, this is Laurel," Oliver made the introductions.

Roy hooted and shook Laurel's hand vigorously. John smiled politely. Felicity blinked twice, then hugged Laurel, whispering something in her ear.

"Colonel Queen, Colonel Sheppard requests your presence in the chair room," Teyla Emmagen effortlessly weaved her way through the healers and injured.

"Yes, ma'am," Oliver nodded. He smiled at Laurel; "I'll be back once your shift is over."

Then he pressed another kiss to her lips and followed AR-7 and Teyla out of the infirmary.


Epilogue

"Are there any, any other details you'd like to include in your report, Lieutenant Colonel Queen?" the IOA representative questioned.

Oliver looked at the unsmiling faces before him and suppressed the desire to smirk. He knew they weren't happy with his debriefing. He'd been extremely succinct in his details of what he'd seen and discovered about Waverider and its inhabitants.

"There is one final thing I'd like to share," Oliver slipped a hand into his uniform jacket and pulled out a white envelope. He slid it over the table to Mr. Woolsey who accepted it with a mildly curious expression, as if he didn't know what it contained. "My resignation, sirs and ma'am," Oliver explained. "And I have one final request, that I might be allowed to retire to M8A-125."

Oliver offered a small smile to the shocked coalition of military and civilian personnel. He knew his request would be granted – he'd already negotiated the terms with Woolsey and Sheppard earlier. He would live on Waverider as an informal ambassador, in the hopes of strengthening the Waveriders' trust in the Atlantis expedition so that they might become true allies over time. Oliver understood both sides of the situation and wanted to find a compromise that would work for both sets of people he'd come to care for and respect.

When he entered his room on Atlantis for the last time, Oliver let a full smile break out. He quickly changed out of his uniform and into Waverider garb. Folding up the last physical reminder of his previous life, Oliver felt no regret as he tucked the uniform away. He was confident in his decisions, and happier than he'd been in a long time. He grabbed two black bags off the floor and left without a backwards glance.

His former teammates, plus Lyla Diggle, were there to see him off in the embarkation room. Oliver smiled at them fondly. Months ago, they were what he wanted to return to. Now, he would miss them, but he wouldn't regret leaving. He was tired of the constant war, he wanted to do more with his life, and he found a way to do so, just not with them.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" John asked one last time.

"Without a doubt," Oliver promised him. Lyla hugged him before nestling against Diggle.

"Don't mess things up with Laurel, ever, do you hear me," Felicity threatened, semi-serious.

"When the Waveriders are willing, I'll visit you," Roy offered.

"We all will," Diggle corrected.

"I'll like that. This isn't goodbye, you know. I'll see you again," Oliver said. His team smiled and nodded, wiping away any accidental tears.

Then Oliver stepped through the 'gate.

He walked back to his and Laurel's apartment alone. The door swished open and he stepped inside. Laurel looked over from her seat next to a window. She began to rise, surprise written clearly on her face. Oliver let his bags drop to the floor. "Honey, I'm home."

Laurel laughed and dashed into his arms. He picked her up and spun them in a circle. When he set her down, she cupped his face in her hands.

"Are you certain?" she asked.

"I'm not completely cut off from my family back on Earth or Atlantis. Maybe one day, I'll take you there, if you like. That's all I wanted. All I need is right here. With you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Laurel. To get married, have a family, and just be with you."

Laurel kissed him, needing no more. When they pulled apart, she whispered a secret in his ear. A surprise. One part of his dream that was already on the way.

The End