Huge thank you to farawisa acting as a beta for me.

Moira and Oliver were sitting in the kitchen, each with a cup of coffee. They were the only ones awake in the house at such an early hour. Their chatter was happy, warm smiles on their faces, laugher in their voices. The night together had been good for the family.

"Good morning," Moira said, looking over Oliver's shoulder. "Flowers?"

Oliver turned to see Raisa stepping into the kitchen, holding a large, crisp white porcelain vase, with grooves which made the vase look as if it was made of a twisted blanket. The vase was filled to the brim with fully blooming lilac and red and yellow roses.

"I found them outside," Raisa explained, "wrapped in newspaper."

"That's weird," Oliver commented.

"Was there a note?" Moira asked.

"No."

Moira looked over to her son, smiling. "Well we do know one man who may seek forgiveness."

Ollie blinked. He stood from the stool that sat against the breakfast bar. He placed a hand on one of the red bundles of petals.

"He seems like a gentleman. Was it the Australian?"

"He's..." Oliver smiled, "my boyfriend."

Raise smiled at the two family members. She placed the vase on the bar. It was heavy after all. "I saw the two of you sitting together outside a few days ago. He seemed nice."

Oliver looked at her in shock. "You knew?"

"I hoped."

Oliver's smile grew and he took a large breath. "Let's see if it was him, I guess." He took his phone from where he had left it on his seat and typed a quick message, asking if Slade had left him something in front on the manor.

"I have never seen you so happy about being with a person," Moira said, remembering how playful the two had been at dinner a few days ago. "Not even before the Island. He's good for you."

Oliver felt his heart warm, his bright, colourful eyes looking at the roses, a blissful smile on his face.

"He's a good man."

Oliver could not help it, he laughed. Eyes shut, mouth wide open, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

"Sorry," he said between breaks in his dwindling chuckles. "It's nothing. He's just such a rough around the edges kind of guy, you know?" Slade was no good man. He was a killer. They both were. They were broken by life and rebuilt by a need to survive.

Had Oliver never seen his father die on the lifeboat, had he never had to run and hide, holding his aching body together as the cuts Billy Wintergreen had given him, burned his skin, had he never suffered, they would have never worked. Oliver would have never understood the person Slade was, the way he would flinch at a sudden noise; that he always had to carry a weapon and if he could he would not stay in an area or situation that restricted him for long. The way that he had to check all the locks at night only made Oliver feel safer and the way his expression would go dull showed that they both had flashes of memories. They were made warriors by their experiences which in turn allowed them to understand each other, like no one else would. No one normal.

Maybe if Moira had said kind or sweet, she would have understood her son's laughter but good?

She frowned.

Oliver stiffened as he felt his phone buzz in his hand. He lifted it to find one word from Slade and so he read it.

"Yes."

Slade lay on his leather sofa, arm thrown over his eyes, the TV on in the background. Since his message from Oliver, Slade had spent the morning working out -which is why he was wearing a tank top and sweat pants-, catching up on TV, and being bored shitless with it.

Slade stood when someone knocked on his door. He turned off the TV and made his way over, stretching his arms forward, one hand grabbing hold of and pushing out the other, making him grunt as his joint clicked. He stopped at the door, moving away the chain and opening it.

"Diggle?" Slade questioned. He wanted to ask why the man was here but something else caught his attention. "Who punched you?" he grinned.

John lifted his fingertips to the light bruising around one of his eyes. "Oliver."

Slade held open the door to let the man in. "Should have told you that the kid has a mean punch," he chuckled.

"I deserved this," Diggle said, shutting the door. "Sorry for lashing out at you. It's just… after finding out that someone meant to have Andy killed..."

"Yeah, mate, I get it. Although I expected to get a smack from Oliver, not you," Slade said, returning to sit on the sofa. "Not harbouring any feelings for me, are we?"

"Well clearly," Diggle rolled his eyes.

Slade smirked.

It was then that Slade's phone chimed for the second time today. He picked it up to see that there was a message from Oliver.

Would you like to go out for lunch? My treat.

"I expect you will soon be getting a text from Oliver, asking for a ride," Slade said, typing back.

"So this thing with Deadshot-"

"Happened once and years later the fucker sold Wintergreen and I out," the Aussie explained with a firm tone. "Do you really think I would have killed him had I had any sort of feelings towards him?"

"Fair enough," Diggle said. He smiled when his phone buzzed.

"Nice place," Slade commented with a smirk as he stepped over to Oliver. "Seems familiar."

It was the Italian restaurant Slade had taken them to on their first night back together. The same conifers around the door, brickwork walls, dark wooden window frames with a view of the cream walls and the painting of a sunset at a dock.

"I'll get to the reason of that in a sec," Oliver said, walking over to the older man. "That photo..."

Slade nodded. "I should have told you about that."

"They were your friends," Oliver said, taking a step closer so they were mere inches apart. "They betrayed you and you killed them. That picture was all you had left of them."

Slade's eyes fell shut as he snorted lightly. The brat could still read him.

"That shouldn't have happened," Oliver took one of Slade's tanned hands, causing the brown eyes to reveal themselves once more. "And I understand why you kept the picture. I kept the photo of Laurel because I needed to one day make up what happened to Sara, to her, and her father. I kept it as a reminder."

"It happened once. He meant nothing to me."

Oliver smiled ever so slightly, feeling relieved. "Good." He frowned. "I'm sorry that Dig hit you."

"Thank you for defending my honour."

Oliver laughed.

"Come on," Ollie said, pointing his head to the door. "Let's head inside."

Slade followed along. As they reached the door, he glanced down to their hands, fingers still tangled together. He looked up at Oliver, who was looking at him with a smile.

"After that night, we should never have stopped being out in the open."

Slade's dark brown eyes flew open wide. Slowly but surely a smile bloomed across his lips.

Oliver turned in the open doorway, lifted a hand to cup Slade's cheek and kissed him for all the people in the street and in the restaurant to see.

Oliver had called ahead so simply saying his name had the couple being directed to nice table at a window.

The place was pretty empty as it was early but quite a few people -customers and staff alike- in the restaurant recognised Oliver and would not have given him a second glance had they not seen that he was holding the hand of a man. Hushed whispers filled the room but the men paid them no mind. In fact they were smirking at each other.

"Remember the last time we were here?" Slade asked as they sat down.

"Don't remind me." Oliver's shoulders shook as he tried to keep the laugher down. "I was very happy to be drunk."

The waitress who had directed them -and thankfully was not the one they had mentally scarred- looked intrigued but did not ask. She simply waited for them to get comfortable so she could take their drink orders and give them some menus.

After a lunch of simply mind blowing pasta, Oliver ordered red wine in memory of their first date. Slade smirked at Oliver as he tried to look knowing and suave on which one would be the perfect bottle from the wine list.

"You're making me an alcoholic," Oliver pointed out as the waitress filled their glasses. "I only seem to drink when you're around."

"In Italy, they drink wine every day," Slade pointed out. He thanked the woman as she went to fill his glass.

"You're Australian," Ollie pointed out. "We have something similar, except it's done out in the street with a paper bag over the bottle."

Slade laughed; voice low and rumbling.

"Baba." Shado smiled brightly and gracefully made her way over to her father in a fast stride, her suitcase rolling along behind her.

Yao Fei met his daughter, pulling her to his chest. "It is so good to see you," he said into her black hair.

"I've missed you, baba." Shado's hand left the handle of her bag, leaving it to stand there in favour of wrapping her arms around her father.

Yao Fei pulled back, admiring Shado's beauty and strength which she hid so well. "Welcome to Starling City."

Shado glanced around the airport, looking at all the different types of people, some running, some strolling, some happy, some tired and frustrated.

"How is Xiǎodì?" Shado asked as she took back hold of her suitcase and the twosome started to walk out of the building.

"Good. He plans to start teaching a boy named Roy."

Shado looked over to her father. "Archery?"

"I am still unsure. He and Oliver's sister are aware of the Island and that he follows the list."

"Does she know about her father?"

Yao Fei nodded.

"I wish we could bring his body here but there is no way to hide his method of death," Shado frowned.

"Oliver is waiting for the right time to talk to her about that. He thinks it might be better to have the body cremated so he can be brought to Starling," Yao Fei said, looking ahead. "Although he will need to talk to Thea about it first."

"Ummm," Shado turned to the man as they exited the building. "Do you know her?"

Yao Fei looked over to where Felicity stood, holding her hand high and waving wildly. "That is Felicity, a friend of Oliver's and a computer expert."

"She seems... hyper," Shado looked back to her, smiling politely and waved back.

Yao Fei hummed. It was a dull and singular tone that portrayed more agreement than annoyance.

Shado was surprised that her father liked the blonde woman.

Thea sat with Laurel at the older woman's desk as they went through files. She had come in on a Sunday for a few hours as Laurel had court in a few hours and Thea was rather good a poking holes in an explanation. She was pretty savvy when it came to the law. The world was lucky that she seemed to be on the side of following the law, rather than using her knowledge to work around it.

"So did you get him to cut his hair?" Thea asked eyeing a picture of the man Laurel was fighting for. He hand long, partly dreaded hair and beard, and was wearing a worn shirt and a trench coat.

"This isn't a beauty show."

"Yeah, but you're trying to convince people he's reliable. He doesn't exactly look it."

Laurel smiled. "Appearance is vital. How you look and your party look and how they say things can be worth much more than what you actually say," she said, "and yes. His hair has been cut and he shaved this morning."

"Did he use hedge shears?"

"Stop it," Laurel warned with a put upon leer.

Thea laughed, leaning back in her seat and clapping her hands together.

Laurel shook her head, a smile pulling at her lips.

"Found it," Thea exclaimed with a wide smile. She held up a file. "We really need a better filing system."

"We need a bigger building, more resources, more people. We need a lot of things," Laurel said, "It's the best we can do given what we have."

"But we still do it."

"Exactly."

Thea smiled, passing Laurel the file. "Want to hear something cute?"

"Hm?"

"This morning or last night, I guess, Slade left Ollie roses on our doorstep," Thea said, "huge bunch."

"That's sweat," Laurel smiled. "I wouldn't have thought Slade was that kind of guy."

Thea snorted. "Those two are just full of surprises," she commented, turning back to the sheets of paper in front of her.

Laurel wanted to ask but the conflicted look of Thea's face said it was unlikely that she would get a straight answer. "Well, I've got everything, so how about we go have a cup of coffee?"

Thea hummed. That did sound good. "Okay."

Roy stepped into his living room, turning on the TV to a news station before he went over to the kitchen to put his bag full of shopping away.

He was absentmindedly listening and he did pause for a second when he heard Oliver Queen's name being spoken but he very nearly dropped the milk when he heard the news anchor say 'Australian man'.

Roy bolted into the living room, to see a picture of Slade and Oliver leaving a building hand in hand.

"As you can see from this picture, the two were leaving the Italian Restaurant where they had eaten lunch and drank a whole bottle red wine. Eye witnesses say that they saw the two kissing as well," the news man turned to his partner. "I would have never expected a story like this, considering Oliver's Queen's female encounters in the past."

Laurel glanced to the TV bolted to the wall and froze.

"Wha..." Thea gave Laurel an odd look after she almost walked into the woman. "What's the hold up?"

The youngest Queen looked around the room to see that other people were looking at the TV. She looked up to see the picture of Oliver and Slade.

"No way," Thea eased herself down into a chair.

"Many people remember Oliver Queen as a party boy," the African American anchor said, "and after his return from being assumed dead for five years, but only stuck on an Island called Lian Yu, Mr Queen brought with him much fascination. He has publicly rejected his father's company and been questioned about being The Vigilante but Oliver Queen does not cease to amaze the people of Starling City."

Thea jogged back to Laurel's office to grab her mobile. She just had to text her brother.

"From our early reports, we have found that the man is one Slade Wilson, a forty year old commander in the Australian Navy. It is unclear what his current source of income is at this moment."

Lance watched the news report with wide eyes. He would have been shocked had he not already known but he did not expect the two of them to come out. His flower suggestion must have been good... wait, where would Slade buy flowers at that time of night?

"Moira Queen must know of this," the reporter added, "which suggests he may be doing this to spite. We can clearly see that neither of the men are even trying to hide this and this Slade guy is nowhere near the kind of person you would expect Oliver Queen to be with. He's matured and very masculine, which does beg the question of Oliver's sexuality."

Lance scowled. He felt like he was watching a chat show. He stood, deciding to see if his officers had made any ground with that evidence he had given them.

"I got a text from Thea," Oliver said, glancing at it and smiling.

The two men were walking through the park, hands joined together.

"What does it say?"

"Ahhhh. Have you seen the news? Ahhhh. Why didn't you tell me you two were coming out?" he read, typing back a quick reply of 'sorry'.

Slade chuckled. "You had me surprised too." He stopped, slipping an arm around Oliver's waist and pulling him close.

Oliver rested his cheek on Slade's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the Aussie's broad chest. He looked up into those dark eyes and smiled.

Slade kissed his forehead. "Want to go a step further?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"The pictures of us, especially the ones in New Jersey, we should put them online."

Oliver's smile grew. "Yeah, I'd like that. Thea knows how that stuff works. I'll ask her."

Slade let him write and send the message but the moment the younger man was done, his eyes went dark. He leant forward and kissed Oliver's neck and nipped at his ear lobe.

Ollie grunted softly, and grabbed hold of Slade's shoulders. "We're being public but not that public."

"Well it's a good thing my place is just down the road, isn't it?" Slade's hands grabbed Oliver's hips and pulled them together. This caused them both to gasp.

Oliver smirked. "It is." He slung an arm around Slade's neck and pulled him into an open mouthed kiss.

He really hoped they did make it back to his place because he did not want the public to see them having sex in a park, a place deemed for being an area of natural beauty... although thinking about it, they had technically had sex more times outside than in.