Chapter Four: Very Slightly Mad
Oliver's thoughts raced as he searched for a temporary solution. His lips curved as it came to him.
"You want to tell Laurel that I'm the vigilante. Could you do me a favor and tell her right now?" he asked, earning a suspicious look from Lance. "That way, she'll figure it's just the drugs talking," he finished.
Quentin frowned. Maybe the medication the doctor had given him was making him a little bit loopy, but he was still (mostly) alert. He knew he was right about Queen. But the younger man had a point; it would be better to wait until his credibility was back to normal.
As he reached the decision, Lucas Hilton, Quentin's partner, and their lieutenant, Frank Pike, showed up to see how he was doing and have a few words. Oliver left them alone, though he was advised to stick around and make a report of what had happened.
His other phone rang.
"Hi Mom… It's all over the news, huh? …No, I'm fine. I got out of it with just a small flesh wound. It's already been treated… No, Mom, forget the lawyers. We're not suing the S.C.P.D. for damage to the property. …Out of proportion? Look, they were saving me. …
"Okay, they were there because the detective was hurt, but Bertinelli was there because of me. …Yes, me. You remember—I went out on a couple of dates with Helena before I worked things out with Laurel. …Yes, I can rely on Laurel not to go crazy and hunt me down with a crossbow. If that's all, Mom…
"No, I'm not heading back to the manor. Laurel and I are going to finish our weekend at the beach house. …We're going to take Lance there when he's discharged. …Mom…Mom, he wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for me! …
"You know what, I don't really care that you don't like him. At least he's honest with me. …Figure it out.
"I've got to go. Give my love to Walter and Thea. Bye."
~PB~
Lieutenant Pike had informed him that, pending an investigation of the incident, the officers involved were going to be sitting behind desks. Aside from a shortage of manpower, this would not affect Detective Hilton, who would lead the task force during Quentin's absence. (He may have had a little trouble looking Hilton in the eye, knowing the vigilante's identity and keeping it from him. Lucas didn't seem to notice and Quentin tried to quash the feeling that he was betraying his partner.)
Lance assured the LT that the heart attack was a one-time thing and that he'd be able to resume his regular duties later in the month. Getting ready to leave the hospital the next day, he confirmed this with the doctor.
"That should be fine, as long as you're more careful about what you eat and you take those pills I prescribed for you," Dr. Magnarelli pronounced, "although I will want to follow-up with you to monitor your progress. Do you have any other questions for me before you leave?" The cardiologist looked at him expectantly.
"No, that's it," Quentin said.
"Usually, after an attack like the one you had, my patients want to know when they'll be able to resume sexual activity—"
"Do we have to have this conversation?" Blood rushed to Quentin's face. It wasn't like he had gotten much action since his divorce three years ago, anyway.
"And I tell them," Magnarelli continued, "that the general rule is if you can climb a flight of stairs, you can have sex."
"Terrific, and on that note," I'm out of here. "Don't want to keep my daughter waiting. So long, Doc," Quentin stood up, glad to be out of the godforsaken hospital gown and back in his own clothes.
~PB~
"I still don't think this is a good idea," Quentin grumbled during the ride.
"Dad, you just had a heart attack," Laurel interjected.
"That's exactly my point! I shouldn't be doing anything to increase my blood pressure, therefore I shouldn't be anywhere near this guy," he jerked his head towards Oliver, who was driving.
"Well, since I'm dating your daughter, you can't avoid me forever," the billionaire pointed out. Unspoken went the other reason Lance couldn't avoid him, namely that it was his job to hunt Queen down. "You might as well try to build up a tolerance to me."
"Not possible," the detective gritted out.
"Dad, don't be silly. Besides, Oliver's going to be on his best behavior, aren't you, Oliver?"
"It could hardly get worse," Quentin muttered before the blonde could say anything. He wasn't sure exactly how he got into this situation, but he reminded himself that as soon as the drugs leveled out, he was going to tell Laurel the truth about her boyfriend. Maybe then he could figure out a way to arrest Queen without their history of occasional working-sort-of-together coming to light.
"We're here," Laurel announced as Oliver parked the vehicle.
"Good as new," Oliver smirked, once they were inside the house. Looking around, Quentin had to agree.
"I have to hand it to you. You'd never know there had been a fatal shootout here the day before." Queen sure was good at cleaning things up. Damn it; there was no point in searching Verdant or Queen Manor for evidence. Anything incriminating would vanish long before the warrants came through.
"Let me show you your room," Laurel said, leading the way for her father. "I've already picked up some things from your place, but I can make another trip if I missed anything," she added, as he opened drawers to find a selection of his clothes neatly folded.
"Eh, looks like you did a good job. By the time I need more, I should be ready to go home." Although he did feel like he was missing something…
"They took your gun to the precinct," Laurel supplied. "Probably verifying that you accidentally discharged it last night when—anyway, I'm sure you'll get it back when you return to work." It wasn't like he was suspended, after all.
"What if I need it before then? How will I protect myself?"
"Dad, Bertinelli was after Oliver. And she's dead. You should be safe here now."
And that was the sort of statement Laurel could make because she had no idea how many enemies her boyfriend had, Christ.
"I don't know, honey. He might have more psychopathic ex-girlfriends where she came from."
"Detective, come on," Queen said, poking his head into the guest room. "You can't be implying that all of my girlfriends have been psychopaths."
"With the exception of my daughters, I can."
"Guys, come on," Laurel huffed. "I want to see you two getting along before I leave."
"Before you what?" Quentin asked.
"Well, after all, I was only supposed to be here for the weekend," Laurel began. "It's already Sunday. I'll take tomorrow off, but I should really go back to CNRI by Tuesday." It figured; if she couldn't go one weekend without her briefcase, no way would she take more than a day off of work. "You know how things are at the office; we're swamped."
"Let me get this straight: You're going to leave me alone with him?" Quentin asked.
"Oh, you won't be all alone. They're sending a nurse Tuesday morning, remember?" she chirped.
"Then they could send the nurse to my apartment!"
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you don't enjoy my company," the vigilante mock-pouted.
Author's Note: Thanks to IronAmerica and Guest for reviewing! Guest, I'm glad that you're enjoying the fic.
Thanks again to those who have added the story to their list of alerts and to IronAmerica for supplying the names of Detective Hilton and Lieutenant Pike!
Chapter title is from Queen's "I'm Going Slightly Mad."
