Detective Lance had just finished a 12 hour shift and was looking forward to getting home and relaxing. Plans that was scrapped when he finally arrived home and he realised that there was a car blocking his driveway. A car that once he got closer to, he could clearly see that there was someone in the driver side.

"Hello," said Quentin, knocking on the window to get the person's attention. "You're blocking my drive way."

As the window wand down he could finally see the driver, Quentin thought he was going to pass out. Everything else seemed to disappear as he looked at the one face that he would never see again.

"Sara?" whispered Quentin, feeling like someone had punched him in the gut, "how!"

"Hi dad,"

Stepping back so that Sara could open the door, before pulling her into his arms as soon as she was close enough.

"Sara," whispered Quentin, as he halt his daughter tightly to him, afraid to let him go in case this turned out to be a dream. "How?"

But before he could finish his question he was interrupted by a load cry coming from inside Sara's car.

"Crap," said Sara, as she pushed her father away and opened the back door.

"Shhhhhh," breathed Sara, dropping back into the Arabic that was familiar to both of them. "Its ok baby, mummy's here."

Quentin could do nothing conceal the look of shock on his face as his daughter turned back to him with a small child in her arms.

In the last 6 years, Sara had gone over how this scene would play out and what she would say, but standing here now, the only thing that came to mind was.

"Dad I would like you to meet my daughter Amira," said Sara, placing a kiss on the top of Amira's head.

"Baby girl are you going to say hello to grandpa?"

"No," mumbled Amira, refusing to move her face from her mother's neck.

"Sorry, we have been travelling for over 12 hours," apologised Sara, trying to explain why her daughter was reacting the way she was. "She has actually been really excited about meeting her grandpa. She has drawn a picture of you."

"Let's get her inside," said Quentin, realising that they where still standing in the middle of the street. "We can talk once you get her settled."

"Thanks," said Sara, as she rubbed her daughter's back and placed another gentle kiss on her forehead.

20 minutes later when Sara meet her father in the living room, she couldn't help but notice how much the house had changed since she walked out of that door 6 years ago.

"Daddy," said Sara, gently, not wanting to scare her father anymore that she already had.

"Sara," said Quentin as he jumped up and once again hugged her youngest daughter "how? Queen told use that you died when the boat went down,"

"I think you can call him Oliver," laughed Sara, as she sat down on the sofa, as she tried to get herself mentally ready for the questions that she knew was going to come. "I mean your daughter is about you marry the guy."

"You know about that?" wondered Quentin, unsure hoe Sara was going to react.

"American newspapers and TV stations weren't the only ones that covered the prodigal son's return from the dead," explained Sara, happy to stay on 'safe' topics for as long as possible. "A lot of foreign counties covered the story, as well as their engagement."

"And your ok with it, asked Quentin, needing to know that now that he had both of his daughters back his girls in the same city, he didn't want Oliver Queen to come between them again.

"I made a lot of mistakes 6 years ago but even then I think that I always knew that Oliver and laurel belonged together."

"But are you ok with it," repeated Quentin.

"Yes dad, I'm fine," replied Sara, but when she saw the look of disbelieve on his face she once again insisted "I'm fine with it, really. In fact I have been in a relationship with someone for the past 4 years and she is one of the best things that has ever happened to me,"

"She?" asked Quentin, picking up on Sara's slip right away.

"Yes," replied Sara, slowly, kicking herself mentally. This was really not how she expected her father to find out that she was bisexually and in a loving relationship with another woman.

"Yes her name is Nyssa," explained Sara, her face aglow, Quentin could clearly see that Sara loved this woman. "She's...perfect."

As she said this last statement Sara couldn't help but laugh, she could clearly picture Nyssa's face if she was here to hear Sara describe her as perfect.

"Well perfect for me and Amira anyway," smiled Sara. Nyssa was a safe subject for her as she would much rather talk about the woman that she loved then the hell that she when through before meeting Nyssa. But before Sara could say anything more the pair where interrupted by... "Dad are you here."

Laurel had clearly let herself in as Sara could hear her moving about in the hall. "There is a strange car in your drive way,"

"Laurel," breathed Sara, looking at her father with fear in her eyes. Of all the people from her life here in sterling city, Sara was under no allusion that Laurel would never forgive her for what she had done. But even she did not expect what was about to happen.

"Laurel," called Quentin, we are in the living room."

"We?" asked Laurel, her voice getting louder the closer that she got to them.

"Dad no...," exclaimed Sara, her body filled with fear. She thought she was strong enough for this but she's not, she couldn't face Laurel. She was trapped though so even she wasn't ready there was no where to go as Laurel walked into the room.

"Hi dad," said Laurel, unable to see Sara from where she was standing "did you get a new car?"

"No its mine," said Sara, deciding to bit the bullet and face her sister. "Sara?" whispered Laurel, looking as if she had seen a ghost "how? Oliver told us that you had drowned."

"When the Gambit when down," started Sara, weary still of how her sister was going to react, "I was washed overboard, but I managed to cling onto a bit of wood...that was the last time I saw Oliver. I was drifting for days until I was seen by a passing ship."

"And then what?" asked Laurel, not trying to hide her anger. "You decide that none of us matter enough to you that you could so much as send a text...hi I am still alive...Sara"

"Laurel," started Sara but was shot down by her sister.

"No," snapped Laurel, "for once in your life you are going to listen to what I have to say. This 'family' no longer revolves around you, or what is left of it anyway."

Now that Laurel had started, everything that she had been thinking and wishing that she could say to Sara for the past 6 years all come out.

"Laurel stop," said Quentin, who could clearly see how much this was hurting Sara.

"No dad, she needs to know the truth," shouted Laurel, before turning back to her sister, "she needs to know that it is her fault that you and mom got a divorce. That she is the reason that you started drinking, that you are an alcoholic. That she is the reason that my mother is refusing to go to my wedding, because she claims that it will bring up to many bad memories o f what happened to Sara."

"Laurel," shouted Quentin, trying to get her attention but she once again ignored him as she continued to scream at Sara.

"You know what, I wish that you had really died when the ship wrecked or better yet never had been born."

By this point Sara was crying, tears falling so hard that she didn't notice her daughter rush into the room and start to hit and kick Laurel.

"What the hell," said Laurel in shock as she looked down that the small child that was attacking her, while shouting something at her that laurel could not understand.

"Don't you dare touch her," snapped Sara, grabbing Laurel's arm before she could push Amira away. "Your right I do deserve anything that you throw at me and more. But you never raise your voice or your hand to my daughter."

"Your daughter," asked Laurel, looking between her sister and father in shock. Before Sara had got on that boat with Oliver, she had never been a child person. Preferring to spend whatever free time she had parting and running after boys. Back then laurel would have gone so far as to say that Sara would never had her own children, but as she watched her little sister comfort her daughter, in a language that she didn't understand , Laurel couldn't help but think that she had stepped into some type of twilight zone.

"How old is she?" Demanded Laurel, doing the math in her head, trying to figure out if the girl could be Oliver's daughter.

Sara ignored her sister and instead turned to tell their father telling him, "I need to get Amira back to the hotel, she is tired but I will phone you tomorrow."

As her sister walked past her with answering her question, Laurel reached out and grabbed Sara's arm, pulling it so hard that she almost dropped her daughter.

"HOW OLD IS SHE?"
What happened next happened so fast that when asked about it later no one could tell exactly what happened. Only that one minute Laurel was holding Sara's arm and the next minute Laurel was lying on the ground in agony and Sara was rushing out the of the door clutching her daughter to her chest.