August 2032

For a guy who'd been dumped that morning, Will's in a really great mood. To be fair, it had been less the end of a relationship and more an inevitable moving on, a satisfying last page at the end of a short book, and he doesn't regret how things went in the least.

Addy had been fun. He'd liked hanging out with her and the sex had really been pretty damned good, but he'd never once deluded himself into thinking they'd keep up pretenses once she went back to Central City for her senior year of college. He hadn't even wanted it to. He's got enough going on in his life. He doesn't need an actual girlfriend. Casual dating and short term hookups are, in his experience, the way to go.

Work takes up the bulk of his time, but it's his family that has most of his focus. Ever since the accident that took his mom's life and left Bethy in the hospital for weeks back in February, he's grounded himself in being more present for his family, for both sides of it.

He's the only link Bethy will ever have to her mom. She's too little to even remember her and his stepfather absolutely needs the help. But he's also more aware than most that life is short and unpredictable - as a firefighter, he sees that every day - and the life his dad and stepmom choose to lead puts them more in harm's way than most. So, it seems like such an easy choice to prioritize his relationships with his siblings and parents over anything more transient that he might find with a girl.

"Will!" a little voice shouts from the back seat of his car, as if to underscore his thoughts. "Want yum yums."

"Hold on, Bethy," he tells her, maneuvering his car into a parking spot at city hall and grabbing the diaper bag he keeps on hand. If you'd asked him a year ago, he would never have guessed he'd have a car seat in his car and a repurposed gym bag full of diapers and teething rings. But that's life. And, as much as he misses his mom, he can't imagine his life going any other way, now. "Want some applesauce?" he asks, catching his two-year-old sister's eye in the series of mirrors set up so he can check on her in her rear-facing seat even while he drives. She's almost big enough to turn it around, which sort of blows him away. It feels like just last week she'd kept him up all night with colic and he'd escaped to his dad's house instead of dealing with it.

"Yes!" she declares happily, making grabby hands back toward him.

"Give me a second to open it, squirt," he says, unscrewing one of those miraculous applesauce pouches that even a two-year-old rarely makes a mess with. It's out of his hands the instant the treat is within Bethy's reach and she hums happily as she sucks down the applesauce with gusto. "You could've said 'thanks,' you know."

The scolding is halfhearted at best, though, because she grins hugely around the nozzle of the applesauce and, damn it, Will is a sucker for all of his siblings. It probably helps that Bethy looks just like his mom and that socks him right in the gut, because wow... he misses her.

But he's got people in the here and now that need him, and he can't allow himself to be anywhere but the present.

"Alright, let's get moving before we're late," he says, mostly to himself, as he unbuckles and grabs the diaper bag. He really should get a real one. Swapping out sippy cups for gym socks is getting old. But, it works for now. He slips out of his absurdly reasonable, top-safety-rated car and opens the back door, getting to work unfastening Bethy from her seat.

"Wanna play," Bethy says to him as he works. She makes her eyes utterly huge as she says it and blinks with an innocence she absolutely does not possess. If Will hadn't been so much older than his other siblings, if he couldn't remember so clearly when Jules and Ellie and Nate had pulled that same damned look, he might have bought it. But he's grown up around little kids and he's well aware that Bethany knows precisely what she's doing.

Besides, they've already got plans.

"Soon," he promises her. "We've got fun plans today, squirt, but we've gotta do something first."

"Wanna play!" Bethy shouts with increasing annoyance.

"Then be a good girl and we will," Will tells her sternly with a firm look. He might be a sucker for his siblings, but he's not about to be a pushover. His stepfather caves with Bethy way too much as it is. He's not going to follow in those footsteps and the sooner his baby sister learns that, the better.

"I good," Bethy tells him, her little face crumpling. She doesn't cry, though, and he's so grateful for that that it's almost absurd. Bethy's wail sounds like a dying animal and it never fails to set every nerve on edge.

"Glad to hear it," he tells her, lifting her up from the seat and resting her on his hip as he shuts the car. "Let's keep it that way so we can play and have fun later, okay?"

"'Kay," she agrees, chewing on the nozzle to her applesauce.

He hefts her up a bit, getting a better hold as the two of them head up the steps toward the entrance to City Hall. A grimace pulls at his lips as he jogs up the steps, keen to get this over with as fast as possible. He hates coming here. It leaves him feeling like he's at a disadvantage, like he's off-kilter. And, in some ways, he is.

His estranged grandmother has been mayor for fourteen of the last eighteen years. She's powerful, beloved by the city and her staff, and being here, being on her home turf… it makes Will feel petty. It makes him feel like he's being childish for holding on to a lifelong grudge against an old woman.

But Moira Queen is anything other than helpless and it would be a dire mistake to see her as weak. She is a master of manipulation and public opinion. Will knows better than to give her an inch because she'll take a mile in return and make you feel like you asked her to do it.

So… maybe he had offered to pick Bethy up an hour or two early today. A toddler makes for an awesome excuse and buffer all in one. And, the fact that his little sister is the spitting image of his mother gives Will a bit of a boost, too. If anything in this world had ever been able to make Moira Queen uneasy, it was absolutely his mom. Will learned years ago not to face off against his grandmother without a plan.

Which is why he's pushing his way through the glass doors to City Hall armed with a toddler.

Much to his chagrin, he's been here frequently enough that he knows his way around the building and the guy working the front desk just waves him through without question.

They take the elevator entirely because Bethy likes to push all of the buttons. It'll probably annoy the hell out of whoever gets in there next, but Will doesn't so much care about that. He does care about the way Bethy's eyes brighten in delight as she makes the buttons for each floor light up.

"Oh, not that one, squirt," he says, pulling her hand back as she reaches for the alarm. "All the others are fine, but let's leave that one be."

"Red button," she declares, reaching for it again.

"Very good," he tells her, grabbing her fingers and kissing them as he steps back just far enough that she can't inadvertently set off the building alarms. "It's red. Good job. Super proud of you for knowing that. How'd you get so big?"

She blows a raspberry at him instead of answering with words, which feels like the most appropriate punctuation possible for a two-year-old.

When the elevator dings a moment later - they'd only been going one floor - he steps out into a flurry of activity. That's not incredibly unusual around his grandmother's office, but also feels more orderly than usual and he pauses to soak in the environment for a moment.

Two people look like a well-oiled machine as they put together binders in tandem. There's a few people on phones who appear to be communicating whatever they've accomplished through a series of intricate hand gestures that Will can't quite seem to figure out as a tall woman with dark hair taps something into a tablet.

"Hey, Will." He turns to the side to see his ten-year-old little brother nearby with a coffee carafe. "You're early," Nate continues, glancing up at a clock. He keeps walking, though, never breaks stride as he refills the cup of someone on the phone. "I can't leave yet. They need me."

"No," the brunette woman with the tablet says sharply, pulling his attention over to her. She's not talking to him or Nate, though, she's talking to someone on one of the phones. "Give me that." She leans over the guy's desk and takes the phone from his hand. "Jack? Hey, this is Amelia. You're gonna want to rethink that position… Uh, no, not because the mayor said to - though she did - but because I said to. Do you really want to be the lone holdout on the council, because believe me if you stick with this position, you will be."

Will just stares at her as she works. He's not the only one. Both of the other people on the phones have finished their calls and the binder-assembly crew has paused to watch her, too. Nate seems like he's the only one still working, playing the part of a barista for everyone there. Will's not sure how, though, because this woman is… she's a force of nature, captivating, and he can't pull his eyes away from her even though Bethy is pulling on his collar in a way that digs into his neck.

"Don't even try that with me, Jack," she continues, shaking her head. She's leaning so far over the desk that she's practically climbed atop it. Her respectable-length skirt has ridden up to just-this-side-of-unacceptable levels and her silk blouse is… it's draping very nicely and Will's more than a little envious of the eyeful that the guy she'd taken the phone from must be getting. "If you want the mayor to play with you on cap-and-trade, you're going to support the Every Family Home initiative… Jack… Jack… It's not a debate, Jack! I'm telling you how it is…. Yes… Yes, I'm authorized to offer that…. Don't even try that with me, you know we can pass this without you, but the mayor wants a unified front and you're going to give it to her because you really, really want to keep your seat and it would help you a whole lot if your very popular mayor were pictured in the paper shaking your hand and thanking you for putting aside politics for the good of the city's homeless population, wouldn't it?"

There's a long moment of silence where the brunette's face turns a gorgeous but frustrated shade of red. Will feels sort of suspended in time as he watches her, but that might be because no one other than Nate and Bethy are moving. Most of them don't seem to even be breathing.

But then the brunette starts talking again and it's with a fury that's both fierce and a little blinding.

"I swear on the damned city charter, Jack, that if you do not back the mayor on this, I am going to find whoever is running against you and I will run their campaign for free," she swears, before cocking her head to the side and pausing, amending her statement. "No, you know what? If you don't back it, I'm going to run against you myself. It's not really what I want to do, but we both know I can kick your ass from here to election day. So here's what it comes down to - do you help a whole lot of homeless citizens improve their lives and earn yourself the mayor's thanks or do you have me as a thorn in your side for the rest of your political career?"

The slow grin that works its way across her face is visible from across the room and Will feels like someone pulled the rug out from underneath him. She was pretty before, sexy as hell, but that smile… holy shit.

"Aw, you know you love me, Jack," she's saying, scooting back off the desk and straightening her skirt. "What was it you said was your favorite thing about me? Was it my 'gumption?' ...Mmm, maybe just not when it's focused on you. Give Cecile and the girls my best. I'm gonna go and let the mayor know she has your full-throated support."

A second later, she's holding the phone skyward with a booming "And that is how you get Jack Baker's backing, boys and girls!"

There's a lot of excitement around the room then, a couple of cheers and someone gives her a literal pat on the back. A flush of triumph has worked its way across her cheeks and she's just… she's absolutely captivating.

"Amelia's awesome," Nate says suddenly, as if reading Will's thoughts. He hadn't even realized his little brother was standing next to him. "She's crazy fierce and she knows how to get things done. Grandma says she's the best. She's not chief of staff, but I bet she will be some day. I'm pretty sure it's only because she hasn't been done with college very long."

He looks from Nate back to where the brunette - Amelia - had been standing, but she's moved. In fact, she's walking right toward them. For a long, long moment, Will's aware of absolutely nothing else but the woman striding his direction. Or… actually, maybe it's Nate's direction, he realizes when she reaches them and holds out her mug for Nate to pour her some coffee. The kid is more than pleased to do exactly that. It's sort of silly.

"Thanks," she says with a grin at Nate. "You have been a most excellent helper and absolutely played a part in our success today."

Nate's awfully proud of himself at the proclamation, standing straighter and squaring his shoulders as he nods crisply at Amelia, but her eyes drift over to Will as she takes a deep sip of her scalding hot, very black coffee.

"Congratulations," he tells her.

"Thank you," she murmurs into her mug.

"You know that's not what most people would consider a celebratory drink," he tells her. He doesn't really mean to make his voice go gritty and check her out while he says it, but that happens anyhow.

God damn but that blouse should be illegal on her. It's not even especially low cut, but the way that silk clings to her chest, he just… yeah he's been looking too long.

"Are you flirting with me while holding a toddler?" she asks with blatant amusement as she sets her coffee cup down on a nearby desk.

Nate huffs and walks off somewhere, grumbling about girls and how this is an important place of business. Personally, Will can't wait for his little brother to discover an interest in the fairer sex because wow is he gonna have fun throwing things back at the kid one day.

"That depends entirely on if it's working," Will replies with a smirk.

She's interested, that much is obvious immediately. Will's very, very good at picking up on body language and between the way her pupils dilate and the way the silk blouse absolutely does not hide her nipples tightening in the least, she's particularly easy to read. That he manages to keep his groan internal at the sight is something of a personal triumph.

"Might work better if you didn't have applesauce all over your neck," she replies. Her tone is playful and she's staring at his adam's apple as she licks her lips. He swallows hard, because he feels her gaze so strongly that she might as well be touching him. A riot of shivers sets out across his skin and he feels like she's stroking every damned nerve ending he's got. He can't remember the last time a woman had him so utterly drawn in so quickly. Had that ever happened?

"Don't like kids?" he asks as Bethy lays her head on his shoulder with a heavy sigh.

"I love kids," she corrects, giving the toddler a gentle smile. "I'm just not used to being hit on by guys holding their…" her voice drifts off expectantly.

"Little sister," he supplies, his lopsided grin growing by leaps and bounds at the proclamation.

"Ah," she notes, giving Bethy another smile. "So you're on double-duty for the big brother role today, then?"

"I am most days, when I'm not working," he agrees. "Family's important to me."

"Right," she breathes out, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She's trying to find a flaw. He can see that. He's got plenty of them, frankly, but so far he's passing her quiet tests with flying colors. "So… what is it you do that you aren't at work at 4:30 on a Thursday?"

"I'm a firefighter," he replies, smiling at her in earnest. He can feel the edges of his eyes crinkling in amusement. They only deepen when she makes a little noise in the back of her throat.

"A firefighter?" she asks.

"Starling City Fire and Rescue Station 52," he confirms. "And as someone who's responded to two calls in the last month involving homeless residents who collapsed with easily treatable illnesses, I'm very grateful for the work you're doing to help get people off the streets and back on their feet."

"Well," Amelia says a bit more soberly, brushing some hair behind her ear. "It's your grandmother's initiative. So, maybe it's her you should thank. I just work here."

"My grandmother…" he echoes, feeling a bit like ice water is slipping down his spine.

"Yeah," she agrees. "You know, your grandmother. The mayor."

"Right," he bites out. Suddenly it feels like there's an enormous expanse between them, but somehow that does nothing at all to dim the way she manages to send a zing of attraction right through him without even trying. "So… you know who I am, then."

She laughs at that, light and disbelieving as she shakes her head. "Will Queen, I knew who you were the first time we met. I definitely remember it now."

Well, that throws him for a loop. Suddenly he's wracking his brain because he could not possibly forget this girl. She stands apart from every woman he's ever met and he's pretty sure she's not even trying. But… but nothing registers.

"The first time?" he asks.

She chuckles and looks to the side, leaving him staring at her profile. She's beautiful from every angle, he finds, and he wants to see more of her, make her laugh with a completely different tone than she is right now, because right now he feels like he's not in on the joke.

"We were both camping," she says as she looks back, taking pity on him. "That's how I got this job. Your dad put me in touch with your grandmother's office."

"You were putting up a tent," he realizes, as he looks at her in a whole new light. He feels like maybe he's seeing clearly for the first time in a long time. "You washed your hair in the river."

She pauses at that before tilting her head in agreement. There's nothing overt, but something in her eyes is obviously pleased at being remembered and he's hit with the sudden sense that he'd missed something back then, that he'd gone left when he should have gone right, and he doesn't know quite how to backpedal.

"I did," she agrees quietly. "And then I walked back to the campsite with one of my friends to give you and my other friend, Maggie, some space."

Maggie… he doesn't remember her. He has a vague recollection of dark hair and soft lips and long legs, but none of it means anything. It's all indistinct, ill-formed in his mind's eye. Amelia, though… Amelia he remembers. He remembers the way the air felt charged with expectation when their eyes met, just like it does now. He remembers her rising up out of the water like some kind of siren, dark wet hair trailing behind her and a soaked, pale blue lace bra that hid nothing.

It's this very instant that he knows beyond any shadow of a doubt that he made the wrong choice that day. There's something here, something he's only found maybe once before, with his ex-girlfriend Allison back in college. He's not really looking for that kind of depth right now. He's not sure if he even has room for that in his life, but maybe… maybe for the right woman… maybe if it were real...

"I'll tell her you said hi, if you like," Amelia offers, pulling him back to the moment.

"Who?" he asks, because everyone other than Amelia has faded well into the background at this point.

"Maggie," she replies a bit incredulously.

"Oh… Sure," he says easily with a shrug. "If you want to. Tell her I hope she's doing well."

"Did you want me to pass along your number…" Amelia fishes.

"Actually, I'd rather you keep it for yourself," he tells her.

She sucks in a ragged breath and raises one eyebrow as her gaze locks heavily with his. It feels like the temperature in the room goes up at least a few degrees and lightning chases something across the expanse of his skin. He wants… he wants something. He doesn't even know what, but he wants something with this woman.

"That's a bad idea," she replies in a near-whisper.

"And why's that?" he asks, shuffling forward half a step, edging ever-so-slightly into her personal space. She absolutely does not back up in the least. In fact, if he's not mistaken, she leans inward just a bit.

"Conflict of interest," she supplies. "I work for your grandmother. You're a Queen. You're…"

"I'm…?" he prods.

"Someone my best friend saw first," Amelia points out. "And most definitely called dibs on."

"I can debunk all of those reasons," he offers. "If you're interested."

"I'm interested in you trying," she replies. They're scarcely a foot apart. Bethy's weight against his shoulder redoubled some time in the last few minutes and he knows without even looking that the toddler's fallen asleep. It's just as well, he's grateful not to have her interference at the moment.

"First of all, I don't have any kind of relationship with my grandmother, so that's not really a point of contention," he starts.

"Isn't it?" she asks.

"It's not for me. Won't be for her. Doesn't have to be for you," he tells her before moving on. "Secondly, I'm a Queen, but I was a Clayton first. Neither the public nor the press look at me the same way as the rest of my father's family because I'm the bastard borne from my father's youthful indiscretions. Now, my family doesn't see it that way, but the rest of society? They do."

"Their loss," she tells him.

"It doesn't bother me," he shrugs. "It never has. I know who I am and I know my place in my family. The rest doesn't matter."

"And Maggie?" Amelia asks curiously.

"Expiration date," Will tells her.

"I'm sorry?" Amelia laughs. He wants to taste it. He wants to kiss her while she's laughing, feel the vibration of her amusement against his lips, breathe it in, let it soak into his soul. What the hell is this? How can he - on sight - feel this much toward this woman?

"Dibs has expired by now," he tells her, the words coming out heavy and affected. "I didn't sleep with your friend. I didn't date her. Whatever she and I had is long over and you and I… you and I haven't even started yet."

Her breath catches and she stares at his lips, running her tongue over her teeth. He absolutely cannot help the strangled noise that gets stuck in his throat at the sight of that and if he weren't holding Bethy, he's pretty sure he'd step forward, rest a hand on her cheek and test exactly where they stand.

But he is holding Bethy.

And beyond that, they're in her workplace and they're absolutely not alone.

"William."

The voice shifts everything on a dime. He steps back, feels steel working its way down his spine as he grits his teeth and turns slightly.

"Grandmother," he greets. His voice is all chilly, hard edges that are impossible to miss.

"I understand you're here to pick up your brother," she supplies primly. Nate's at her side, looking incredibly proud to be a part of a grown-up conversation. He absolutely misses the nuances of Will's relationship with their grandmother, such as it is. He's only ten. He doesn't get it yet. "You look well."

"I am," Will grits out.

"Glad to hear it," she replies. Her hair is entirely silver these days, but she still looks much the same as Will remembers from the first time he met her. She's stately, his grandmother. Composed. He'd give almost anything to watch that composure shatter, to see her express something, anything, showing that she regretted in the least what she'd done. To him, to his father, to their entire family. But she never has. She never will. And Will is not the sort to ever let that go. His stubbornness, ironically, seems to have come from her. "And you're still working that job with the firehouse?"

"I'm a firefighter," he snaps at her, incredulity slipping across his features. "It's not an after-school hobby. It's my career."

"Honestly, William," she chides. "I was only making conversation."

"Not very well," he bites back.

"Fine," she replies, holding her head high. "Forgive my attempt at civility. How dare I be so bold as to attempt to talk to you."

"You and I have nothing to talk about," he grits out.

He holds her stare for an abnormally long time, right up until Nate sighs heavily and draws both of their attention. Will immediately feels bad when he sees his little brother's crestfallen face. This isn't fair to him. All he's ever known of Moira Queen was a grandmother who doted on his existence every moment of his life. She's encouraged him, been proud of him, made absolutely no secret that he's her favorite - even if she's never said so outright. Nate's never had to wonder why his grandmother never thought he was even worth knowing. He doesn't remember being five-years-old and crying in the corner of his kindergarten class because every other kid's dad had shown up for the family picnic. That's not his reality. And as much as Will cannot stand his grandmother, he also can't begrudge Nate the positive relationship he has with her.

"Sorry, kid," Will tells Nate, squeezing his shoulder and pulling him closer in a one-armed hug. Nate relaxes a little bit immediately. He's such a tactile kid, so eager for affection. Even just a half of a hug seems to mean the world to him. "You have a good time?"

"Yes," Nate says, looking up at him with suddenly bright eyes. "I learned a lot. I don't like politics, but it's very important to understand for business. If I'm gonna run QI one day, I need a good background."

Will grins down at the boy. He's so serious. Will's pretty sure he's never been that serious in his entire life, but definitely not when he was ten-years-old. "You're gonna run the world one day, kid," he tells Nate, ruffling his carefully combed hair as the younger boy bats his hand away. "But for now, I think maybe you've had enough career-prep. How about we go do something fun and way more age-appropriate than interning in the mayor's office over summer break?"

Nate looks suspicious of this suggestion, his eyes narrowing as Will chuckles. "Like what?" he asks with more skepticism than any soon-to-be fifth-grader should be capable of.

"You don't want it to be a surprise?" Will asks.

"Am I the sort of person who usually likes surprises?" he asks, raising both eyebrows. That'd be a firm 'no.' In that way, and in so many others, Nate is very much like his mother.

"Fine," Will relents, shaking his head affectionately. "I thought we'd hit the county fair. It's a short walk from here. We can ride a few rides, grab some incredibly unhealthy dinner and catch the fireworks before we head home."

The look on Nate's face makes it very clear that he can't decide how he feels about this idea. He's a good kid, but sometimes he forgets to just be a kid. Will's recently decided it's his personal mission to act like an elementary schooler while he still is one.

"You can help me win Bethy a stuffed animal and we can gorge ourselves on cotton candy," Will points out. Nate's weak spot is sweets, always has been, and Will knew before he even said it that an offer of cotton candy would earn him Nate's agreement.

And, sure enough, his face lights up at the idea. "The blue kind?" he asks, as if that makes a difference.

"Any kind you want," Will tells him, grin spreading from ear to ear as he watches his little brother's growing delight.

"You don't want to have too many sweets, though."

God, but his grandmother's voice grates on Will's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Can't she just let anything go? Can't she just let Nate be a damned kid?

"I thought maybe I'd just buy him his own cotton candy machine," Will tells her tightly. "He can keep it in his room and make as much as he wants on demand."

"There's no call for sarcasm, William," she berates. Her tone makes it seem like she's talking down to him. She has a way of doing that, of making him feel six years old all over again, hiding in his father's kitchen and listening to him tell his grandmother that no, no she cannot see him because his mother isn't here and he made her a promise.

His grandmother had used that same tone on his dad. And Will… Will hadn't understood then. His mom's parents both died when he was too little to remember them and the idea of a grandmother, in his head, had been someone who'd bake cookies with him and push him on the swings at the park. But Moira Queen is not the cookie baking-type. At least not with him. Will had learned that the hard way.

"I'm surprised you recognize it," Will tells her dryly. "Isn't sarcasm a bit too close to humor for you?"

"William Clayton," she says sharply. "I expect considerably mo-"

"Queen," he corrects, cutting her off abruptly. His voice is as cold as ice, which is sort of incredible because his blood is absolutely boiling. Nate laces their fingers together, a silent show of solidarity that Will desperately needs. Nate helps. Bethy, her soft little puffs of breath against his neck as she slumbers on… she helps too, in her own way. He is very present with his family in this moment, regardless of his grandmother's words. "Despite your very best efforts, I am a Queen. I am my father's son and you do not have the right to take that away from me."

"Of course you are," she replies in a hushed voice. It's the first time in his life he can remember her looking uneasy. Color drains from her face and her head is dipped almost deferentially. Will's not sure what to do with that. "I misspoke. Your name was Clayton. Old habits die hard, I'm afraid. You're obviously a part of this family and I would never do anything to try and distance you from it."

With those words, any trace of goodwill that her discomfort might have earned her absolutely evaporates. The nerve of her…

"Forgive me, but if that were true, we wouldn't be having this conversation in the first place, would we?" he asks.

His point is utterly undeniable and his grandmother simply holds her chin high and stares at him with silent defiance. Will doesn't care. At least that's what he tells himself. He gave up on his grandmother more than a decade ago and it would be foolish to expect anything to change now.

"I don't have to have cotton candy," Nate says in a tiny voice. Will looks down to find his little brother glancing between him and their grandmother uneasily. "It's not that big a deal. Even if they have the blue kind. I don't want you to be upset at each other, so we can just skip it."

"No way," Will tells him, kneeling down so he can see Nate eye-to eye. It's awkward with Bethy asleep and Nate's actually a bit taller than him when he squats, apparently. When had that happened? Is he growing again? No wonder he always wants snacks. "No way. This wasn't about you and it wasn't about cotton candy, okay? Everybody wants you to have fun. Nobody's mad at you, okay? Not your grandmother and certainly not me."

"I'm not upset with you," Moira agrees. Her voice is thick and her smile forced, but Nate doesn't seem to notice. "You should enjoy your time with your brother. Everyone deserves a bit of a treat now and then."

"You did good work today," Amelia chimes in. "You should take a break, reward yourself."

Will hadn't forgotten she was there. He's entirely too aware of her presence for that. But he had sort of overlooked that she'd been an uncomfortable witness to his ongoing spat with his grandmother. In theory, that should make things incredibly awkward. In practice, it doesn't quite play out that way. He glances up at her to find her already watching him. There's no mistaking the way her breathing speeds up or the way she hesitates a beat before smiling kindly at Nate.

Judging from the quiet hum from his grandmother, Will's pretty sure he's not the only one there to pick up on the oddly intense vibe between them.

Unfortunately.

"You did good work, too!" Nate declares, looking at Amelia with excitement. "You should come with!"

"I… I don't…" Amelia starts.

"You should," Will cuts in. His voice is soft as he looks up at her. "I'll win you a stuffed animal, too."

"But no cotton candy?" she asks with a hint of a grin.

"If it'll make you really smile, you can have mine," he replies. "Every last bite of it."

Will ignores the disgruntled huff of annoyance from his side. He doesn't give a damn about his grandmother's opinion, but Amelia's eyes dart her way quickly before meeting his gaze again.

He goes to stand up fully, but Bethy slips to the side and throws him off balance a little, making him stumble slightly. It's Amelia's hand that steadies him, reaching out and gripping his forearm. He must have scuffed his feet against the carpet at some point because there's a literal shock that zaps him the moment her fingers graze his skin. It's visible, a tiny little bolt of static electricity that leaves him sucking in an unsteady breath and staring at her in blatant surprise.

He hasn't kissed her yet, has barely even touched her, and the tension is so thick that it swamps the room, makes him feel like his head is swimming.

It's amazing and he wants more of it.

"Come with us," he says, some of his teasing nature falling to the wayside. He wants this so badly. There's nothing to joke about with that.

But Amelia withdraws her hand like she's been burned and takes a small step back. "I'm not exactly dressed for a county fair," she points out.

"I'll buy you a t-shirt," he tells her.

"I doubt they sell shoes," she replies, tilting her head down toward the heels that nearly put her eye level with him.

"I'll carry you," he grins.

She laughs and ducks her head, looking up at him through a curtain of dark hair and it's… it's so beautiful he forgets how to breathe for a moment. "Don't you already have your hands full?" she asks, looking to Bethy.

"Piggy-back ride," he suggests. He's mostly kidding, but it earns him a full-throated laugh and Will has always been happy to look a bit foolish for the amusement of others. That's most definitely true with Amelia.

"I can carry Bethy," Nate chimes in. "I can even hold her while you guys go on the rides she can't go on."

Amelia's laugh dies off, but she's still smiling, a soft look of clear affection as she turns to Nate. It's just like when she'd looked at Bethy and it strikes Will that she'd been telling the truth earlier. She really very much does like kids.

"It's tempting," she says. She looks quickly in Will's direction. "But I have work I need to do."

'You're tempting. But no,' is what Will hears and his heart drops a little at the subtle rejection.

"But-" Nate starts. Will cuts him off, though, resting a hand on his little brother's shoulder. Nate's too little to get the undercurrent of what's going on and Will's not going to push a woman who's turned him down.

"Okay," Will tells her. "Congratulations again on getting the support you needed. I hope you have a nice night."

The way she watches him makes him think she might be reconsidering, but after a moment she says, "Thanks… It was good to see you again, Will."

"You too, Amelia," he agrees.

Every ounce of tension that's been there still lingers, but it feels like they're watching each other across a vast canyon right up until she turns and walks away. Will hits on a lot of girls and, though it works out in his favor more often than not, Amelia's far from the first one to shoot him down. She is, however, the first to make him feel like he wishes he could rewind the last few minutes and try a different approach.

"You were right," comes his grandmother's dry voice. "You are your father's son."

It's not a compliment.

Will bristles at the comment, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he glares his grandmother's direction.

"Nate, darling," she says, looking down at the boy only after she's spoken. "Why don't you run to my office and grab my purse for me? We can make this little afternoon trip of yours my treat."

There's clear confusion on Nate's face, which is well-placed because it's not like they have any need whatsoever for their grandmother to fund anything, but he does as he's told. Because he's Nate and the day he doesn't listen to directions, Will is going to wonder what alternate universe he's fallen into.

But his thoughts don't linger on Nate long because the moment the boy's out of earshot, Will's grandmother is clearing her throat to earn his attention.

"Amelia is the most promising staffer I've ever had," she tells him sharply.

"She seems more than competent," Will agrees, wondering why the hell they're having this conversation.

"The very last thing she needs is the distraction of a young man who thinks a two month fling is a long term commitment," she clarifies.

Will absolutely cannot believe his ears. Defensiveness rises up, suffusing his entire body with annoyance and coiled up anger as he turns to face his grandmother fully.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he bites out.

"Don't I?" she questions, quirking a disbelieving eyebrow. "Amelia is going places professionally. What she needs is someone like her, someone driven with ambition and purpose, not a boy offering piggy back rides to the carousel."

"How about we let her decide what she needs," Will snaps back.

"William," his grandmother sighs with a tisk and a shake of her head. "She just did."

She did.

It's true.

But it's also nowhere near as simple as his grandmother is making it sound, because when he glances Amelia's direction, she's staring back. He's not about to approach her again. He took his shot and he's not gonna nag. But it's also not like she thought he was beneath her, not like his grandmother seems to be implying.

"Forgive me if I can't take seriously the relationship advice coming from a woman who screwed the man who murdered her first husband."

Moira Queen is a dangerous woman. She always has been. Will has never had any delusions about that, but it's never been as obvious to the naked eye as the look of pure hatred that flashes across her features.

"You have no business bringing up Robert and Malcolm," she hisses at him.

It's appropriate. William's always thought her a snake.

"And you have no business sticking your nose in my love life," WIll counters. He's not an imposing man, but he is taller than his grandmother and stepping into her personal space leaves him feeling like he's looming over her. He hopes she feels the same way. "You and I share two things - a last name and a quarter of my DNA. That's it. I put up with you because my father does. So, I will pass you the potatoes at holiday dinners and I will smile at you for my brother's sake, but don't for a second think you have any say over my life. You don't even have my vote."

Something solidifies in her eyes, a resolve he's seen frequently from her in the face of adversity. But not like this. Not toward him.

Good.

It's a whole lot more honest than any attempt at familial affection.

"Am I clear?" he asks.

"Perfectly," she responds.

Nate, bless him, has fantastic timing, running up with his grandmother's purse in hand almost immediately after the word leaves her mouth.

"I found it!" he says proudly, missing the undercurrent between them entirely, per usual, as he hands his grandmother her bag.

"Thank you, darling," she tells him as she takes it and unzippers the front compartment, pulling out her wallet.

"You can keep it," Will tells her, staying her hand. "I don't want your money."

"It's for Nate," she points out, giving him a heavy look. It's meant to remind him that they try not to do this in front of Nate. They're civil in his presence. He's young and he misses a lot, but he's not blind entirely. Sooner or later he's going to figure out something deeper is going on and he's going to want an explanation. But Will hasn't forgotten these things, he just also isn't willing to play by his grandmother's rules anymore.

"Well, you can pay for him when you take him," Will counters. "This is my treat. I have 'that job at the firehouse,' remember? I wouldn't offer if I couldn't afford it."

There's his trust fund, too, of course, but he doesn't touch that and his grandmother is well aware of it. He wants to make his own way and he doesn't want any part of the fortune passed down by his grandparents.

"Fine," she allows after a beat. There's really nothing else she can say, after all. She turns to Nate and straightens his collar, not that it needs it. "Have a good time and listen to your brother," she instructs, as if there had been any doubt he would follow Will's rules. "Tell your sisters I said hello, will you?"

"Sure," Nate agrees. "Thanks for letting me help today, Grandma."

"It's my pleasure, my hard little worker," she says, cupping his cheeks and smiling with obvious affection. Will wonders if she means it. He wonders if she ever has.

"Wanna get out of here?" Will asks his brother. "You're pretty tall these days. I wonder if they'll let you on the Mountain of Doom yet."

"Don't be silly," Nate smiles, shaking his head. "I'm not that big."

It's true. He's not. But Will's not going to give up until he's got his baby brother laughing like the little kid he is and if that means a few teasing comments, he's more than ready to play the part.

"My mistake," Will deadpans. "I thought you were seventeen."

"Will, you're ridiculous," Nate grins. It's all teeth. "Jules is seventeen. I'm ten."

"Are you sure you're not twins?" Will says with mock seriousness. "I could swear you're taller than her."

"I am not!" Nate giggles.

And there it is.

His eyes are bright and his cheeks pink. He's a little kid wearing a button-down collared shirt and volunteering to pour coffee at his grandmother's office on his summer break. But, for a moment… for a moment he looks like the child he truly is. He'll spend plenty of time inside offices one day. Will is sure of that much. It's joy like this that he needs to make sure is also a big part of the kid's experiences. There's far more life than prepping binders and pouring coffee.

"Bye, Grandma!" Nate says cheerily, waving her way as he takes Will's free hand and the two of them head back toward the elevator. He's humming something happily beneath his breath. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it, but it makes Will let go of his hand to wrap an arm around him and pull him closer.

They step into the elevator and he catches Amelia's eye again as he pushes the button for the ground floor. She smiles softly at him and he returns it. There's an underpinning of regret, of longing, and for an instant he thinks maybe she'll change her mind, maybe she'll tell him to hold the elevator and hurry to join them.

But she doesn't.

The door slides shut leaving him with his two youngest siblings and a full evening of fun planned for the immediate future. A huge part of him wishes she'd come with. He can picture it perfectly. Her sharp tongue sassing him as he misses the target in one of those games where he tries to win her a stuffed animal. Her stealing a bite of his cotton candy as he's holding it and innocently proclaiming she'd done nothing. Her clinging to his arm as they race down some ridiculously steep ride… Her holding Bethy, looking at his baby sister like she's the sweetest thing in the whole world. There's a pang of longing for all of that, for what could have been if things had gone just a touch differently.

But they hadn't. And that's okay. It's okay because Bethy sleeps soundly, resting against the curve of his bicep with a sense of comfort that he's so very grateful to provide. It's okay because Nate is humming and bouncing on his toes with bubbly excitement.

Will likes spending time with pretty, interesting, intelligent women. He likes it a lot. And Amelia… there's something different about her that he wishes he'd had the chance to explore. But his focus - now and always - is on his family and he's more than satisfied to be spending time with just Nate and Bethy. They need him and maybe… maybe he'd been right in the first place. Maybe his relationships with them are more important than they could ever be with a woman.

"Come on, Will!" Nate says with a growing sense of excitement, as the door to the elevator opens. "Let's get going!"

"Let's do it," Will agrees, following in his little brother's footsteps as he rushes out the door, leaving the office and everyone in it behind.