A/N: As promised, another day, another update. :D

Just a heads up about this chapter – there is no Olicity. I know, I know, it's a cardinal sin for an Olicity fic but it's just this one chapter and it's the last bit of real levity before this stuff gets real! Besides, as we get to the pointy end of Oliver's poisoning, it's going to be more and more just Oliver and Felicity, together and apart, so there is that to look forward to. Okay, have I made enough excuses for this chapter yet? No? Bummer. In that case, I suppose I should get to work making you another body hair stuffed cushion by way of apology… it may take a couple of years to get enough to fill it… just send me your mailing address and keep checking your mail box around 2016-17.

Also, as promised/threatened, insight into the second troubling thing which has been occupying precious brain space. And it's all because I saw Stephen Amell answer a question on YT where he answers facebook questions. The question was, would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or 100 duck-sized horses? First of all, awesome question. Second of all, Captain Amell chose the horse-sized duck scenario because he thought 100 duck-sized horses would be like death by a thousand cuts. Now, I get where he is coming from with that, I really do but ever since he said it, I've had real concerns that if such a scenario ever presented itself to him, Captain Amell is going to go with the horse-sized duck without really knowing what he is getting himself into. Clearly he doesn't know a lot about ducks. The two most pressing things to understand about them is firstly, they have this terrifying, corkscrew penis situation going on which is about as long as they are and they drag it along the ground behind them when they're in the mood for love. It ain't pretty. Second, all male ducks (drakes) are rapists. That's why female ducks have counter corkscrew vaginas to make it so hard for the boy ducks to get their act together and don't have to put up with constant… well, I'll leave it there, but you get the picture.

Now, imagine all that… but as the size of a horse.

I know, terrifying, right?

The 100 duck-sized horses are clearly the way to go, because one, how adorable would that be? And two, horses can't climb. You stand on a chair and it's game over for those pint-sized little cuties. Now, consider your other option. You just know that horse-sized rapey little bastard is going to use that corkscrew penis of his in some capacity to gain the upper hand and I'm sorry, I don't see any kind of happy ending there… well, maybe for the duck, but for Captain Amell, not so much. Also, ducks can fly. Do you really want something with what would be roughly an eight foot penis flying around? You could seriously take someone's eye out with that thing. It's the main reason whales and elephants don't fly. It's just not safe. It's a workplace health and safety issue.

So yeah, these things worry me. I feel like someone should warn him to rethink his strategy on that one. There could be dire consequences for making the wrong call and I just feel like an encounter with a horse-sized duck is not something Captain Amell is emotionally or psychologically prepared for.

But I digress… regress… egress… largesse… I don't know, one of those things… pick one that tickles your fancy.

And now, without further ado… Apu… canoe… bamboo… okay, this is getting out of hand but man, rhyming is oddly addictive… predictive… restrictive… vindictive… oh great, now I'm developing some kind of weird, Dr. Seuss-esque Tourette's Syndrome. Like the excessive back hair and glass eye aren't enough of a conversation starter when I meet people… steeple… umm… damn… feeble… okay, that last one was more rhyme adjacent. Not many things rhyme with people which is weird because it feels like a lot of words would, only they don't.

Alright, so, if I haven't melted your brain with all of the above, have a crack at the chapter and if your brain has melted… well, again, sucks to be you, I guess… mess… bless… stress… regress… excess…

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

The guards surged out of the stairwell door, twenty at least, some of them still with red, tear-filled eyes. "You lot," ordered one of the men sharply, pointing down one end of the corridor, "this way. Check every door and closet. The rest of you with me, doing the same." From his vantage point, which was on the ceiling, propping himself up between a light fixture and a wall, Roy watched the men split into two groups, running down the corridor and doing as they were instructed. He waited until they were as far away as possible, which wasn't as far as he'd like before letting himself drop to the ground, agilely landing on his bare feet. Roy yanked open the door and made a dash for the stairs.

"Roy!"

"I'm coming!" hissed back Roy. "Just have your big plan ready to go when I get there."

"Don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing."

Roy had reached the first landing when he heard the door above him slam open. His head jerked up to see the guards running into the staircase. "Damn it!"

"What's wrong?"

"Mickey Mouse and his crew saw me double back," growled Roy. "I'll be turning up with company."

"Just turn up," Diggle ordered him. "I'll handle the rest."

Roy bounded down the stairs and was at the door to the eighth floor. He pulled it open and ran through. "I'm here!"

"Run towards the window and don't stop, no matter what happens!"

Roy quickly looked both ways, spotting the end of the corridor with the floor to ceiling window. He immediately turned towards it and ran as fast as he could. Halfway there, the first of the guards were running out into the corridor after him. That window was getting closer and Roy still didn't know what Diggle's escape plan was. "Just a heads up," he yelled over the shouting of the men behind him, "if you think I can fly… I can't." A bullet whizzed by his ear and he flinched. "Also not bullet proof! You writing this stuff down?"

"Oh yeah, absolutely. Incoming. Watch your nine."

"What's incoming?" fretted Roy. "More information." Suddenly a harpoon shattered the glass of the window Roy was almost at. It whizzed past his right shoulder, the metal line attached to it snaking behind it at a blurring speed before the harpoon embedded itself in a wall.

"All aboard the Diggle Express!" Diggle shouted.

More bullets shot past Roy from behind as he grabbed for his small cross bow, throwing it over the line and launching himself out of the window. "I'm a sitting duck!" yelled Roy as he glanced back over his shoulder while he zip-lined between the buildings, to see at least eight men collecting at the window, all with guns aimed at them.

"No, you're not," said Diggle firmly, "they are."

Suddenly the men began to drop with ruthless efficiency as Diggle expertly picked them off one by one in rapid succession. Roy sailed over the street eight stories below heading towards the rooftop of the adjacent building at increasing speed. As he got closer Roy could see Diggle propped up against the ledge of the roof, a sniper rifle positioned towards Titan Towers. Roy hit the roof top hard and rolled forwards a couple of times.

"Messy," said Diggle disapprovingly, as he jumped up and grabbed the black bag which had various pieces of weaponry in it, "very messy."

"Okay, it had a few rough edges," said Roy, joining Diggle as they quickly decamped from the roof. "But I got what we were after."

"Let's hope so," said Diggle grimly as they ran down the stairs, "because I don't see us getting a second go round at getting into that building."

Roy couldn't argue with that. He was still amazed he was actually still alive. They continued down the stairs until they were on the ground floor and then they launched themselves into the car and took off at high speed.

Roy twisted around in his seat to look out the back window. "I don't see anyone following us." Just then a bullet burst through the back window, shattering it and both men flinched away.

"Thanks for the update," said Diggle in exasperation. "You've got a real handle on the situation."

Roy could now see a black sedan behind them and a man hanging out the window, shooting at them. "Okay, we're being followed."

"Hold on," said Diggle calmly, "this may get a little bumpy."

Ten stomach churning minutes later Diggle had lost the guys in the car. Roy couldn't help but be impressed by the other man's skill behind the wheel. Diggle really knew how to drive. "Where are we going? Back to the Foundry?"

"No," said Diggle simply, changing lanes.

"Then where are we going?"

"To finish this."

"You're not big on the sharing info thing, are you?"

"Just follow my lead when we get there." Diggle shot him a quick look. "And you may want to take that wig off."

Roy had actually forgotten he was still wearing the thing. He hastily ripped the wig from his head, tossing it over into the backseat.

"And the dress is a bit distracting too," commented Diggle.

"I was getting to that," grumbled Roy as he started to wrestle his way out of the thing. "I was just waiting for the hail of bullets to slow down." Twenty minutes later Roy was sans female clothing and stepping out of a hotel elevator with Diggle. "Why are we here? Are we meeting someone?"

"Yes and we've all got something to bring to this meeting," said Diggle. "I want you to bring silence."

Roy scowled up at him. "You're oppressing me."

"Thank God you noticed, I was beginning to think I'd have to hire a sky writer."

Roy rolled his eyes. "Still not funny," he muttered as they rounded the corner to see two burly men standing by a hotel door.

Diggle gave them a cool look. "He'll want to see me."

The two men exchanged glances and then one of them simply opened the door, letting Roy and Diggle pass through.

A well-groomed, tanned man who looked to be in his early fifties stood up from where he'd been sitting on the sofa, a snifter of brandy in his hand and dressed in one of the hotel's toweling bath robes grinned to see him. "You're alive!" he exclaimed happily, "how utterly marvelous."

"I need to speak to you alone," said Diggle, casting a glance at the array of bodyguards in the room.

"Of course, of course, we'll retire to my boudoir." The older man gave him a flirty look. "You know the way." He turned and headed towards the bedroom and Diggle inclined his head at Roy, indicating he should follow them.

"Why do you know the way to this guy's bedroom?" asked Roy with interest, looking around the expensive suite as they walked.

Diggle didn't answer, just closed the door behind Roy when they were all inside. He turned and addressed the older man. "I've brought you a present, Mr. Forbes-Hamilton."

The man's gaze went past to Diggle to Roy, his face lighting up. "Oh, he's just what I've always wanted," Forbes-Hamilton said, clapping his hands together in delight. "I'll treasure him always."

Roy scowled, taken aback. "Is he talking about me?"

"So pretty," cooed Forbes-Hamilton looking Roy over admiringly. "Does all that pretty have a name?"

"Roy," volunteered Diggle.

"Hey, what's going on here?" protested Roy. He glared at Forbes-Hamilton. "Look, dude, I don't know what you're thinking but I'm not like some rent boy. I don't get paid for sex," he said indignantly. "When I have sex, I give it away for free!" Roy paused. "That sounded a lot nobler in my head," he muttered.

"I find that hard to believe," said Diggle wryly and then addressed the other man in the room. "Roy isn't your present, Mr. Forbes-Hamilton," said Diggle easily. "I have a former business associate of yours in my trunk."

"Dead?" asked Forbes-Hamilton hopefully. "And call me Bunny."

"I won't be doing that," said Diggle calmly. "And yes, she's dead."

"Wait, we drove over here with a dead woman in the trunk of our car?" asked Roy in disbelief. "You didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

"What was I suppose to do with her?"

"I don't know, leave her where she fell?"

"We didn't have time to clean the body properly. I didn't want to leave any DNA evidence." Diggle turned his head back to Forbes-Hamilton. "I'm assuming you have people who take care of such things?"

"I have a little man, Mr. Leo, he's very good," agreed Forbes-Hamilton. "I'll take care of it."

"Thank you," said Diggle. "Normally I'd deal with these things myself, but I'm kind of on a time clock here."

"You got what you needed?" asked Forbes-Hamilton with admiration. "Aren't you the resourceful one?"

"I got what we needed," Roy corrected him flatly.

The older man smiled at him. "Pretty and ingenious," he said huskily. "Who's the full package then?" Forbes-Hamilton's gaze drifted to Roy's crotch area. "And then some," he murmured appreciatively.

"Hey, pal," snapped Roy, "my eyes are up here, got it?"

Roy saw Diggle turn his head a little to hide the smile at his responses to Forbes-Hamilton's flirting.

"So feisty," said Forbes-Hamilton approvingly. "I do love it when my kitties like to scratch."

"Monkeys, cats," grumbled Roy. "What is it about me and animals all of a sudden?" He glared at the other man. "I'm a man, okay? Not some fluffy pet."

"Of course you are, kitten," purred Forbes-Hamilton. "I mean, you got in and out of Titan Tower in one delectable piece." He nodded approvingly. "So, my man helped you out then?"

"That was your guy on the inside?" asked Roy uncertainly.

"Yes."

"Oh." Roy grimaced. "Were you close? Because I may have some bad news for you about that."

Forbes-Hamilton looked at Diggle.

"Dead," said Diggle without any more preamble.

"Oh," said Forbes-Hamilton, looking a little surprised. "Oh well, at least he got you in, Frank didn't die in vain."

"Actually, he kind of did," said Roy a little uncomfortably. "There was a broom-related incident while I was initially trying to get in."

"Well, of course, we've all had those," said Forbes-Hamilton, looking a little confused. "So, how did you get in then?"

Roy blinked. "I don't want to talk about it." He gave a sharp look at Diggle. "And you don't want to talk about it either," he said forcefully.

"Don't worry," said Diggle dryly, "I'm working on repressing most of today as it is."

"Well, you got the antidote formula, so I suppose that is all that matters." Forbes-Hamilton smiled at them both. "Is it too much to hope that you're here to thank me for all my help? And before you answer that, I just want to let you know I'm completely naked under my clothes." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at them.

"Everyone is naked under their clothes," pointed out Roy in exasperation.

Forbes-Hamilton fluttered his eyelashes at Roy. "Oh kitten, you little tease."

"Hey, back off, buddy, I've got a girlfriend," said Roy quickly.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"And yet you're here, in my bedroom," said Forbes-Hamilton coyly. "Interesting."

"We're on a break," said Roy defensively. "And I'm helping out a friend."

"Why?"

Roy sent a dark look Diggle's way. "I've pretty much been asking myself that question the entire time for all the thanks I've gotten."

"I'm not thanking you for being a pain in my ass all day," said Diggle unapologetically.

"I meant why are you and your girlfriend on a break?" asked Forbes-Hamilton curiously.

"She says I know why."

Forbes-Hamilton arched an eyebrow. "And do you?"

"Not even a little bit," admitted Roy and then he shook his head, annoyed with himself for the overshare. "Okay, we're not talking about Thea."

"Thea?" repeated Forbes-Hamilton with interest. "The Greek goddess of light and mother of the sun, moon and dawn. She must be quite the handful. Goddess's usually are. You should really know why Thea's mad at you, kitten," tutted Forbes-Hamilton. "It's important to listen when a woman talks. Being a good listener makes all the difference."

"Aren't you into guys?" asked Roy in annoyance. "What do you know about women?"

"Decidedly more than you, I suspect, my darling," said an amused Forbes-Hamilton. "It's amazing how much clarity you have about something when you're not constantly picturing that something naked." He trailed off, eyes glazing over as his gaze lingered on Roy again.

Roy snapped his fingers. "Hey, hey, cut that out!"

Forbes-Hamilton blinked rapidly a few times. "Sorry, kitten, lost my train of thought there for a moment."

Diggle stepped in. "Let me help you out with that, Mr. Forbes-Hamilton—"

"Bunny."

"No," said Diggle, not missing a beat. "We have the antidote to the XR-320—"

"I knew that bitch was holding out on me," said Forbes-Hamilton in vague annoyance and then smiled at Diggle. "But good for you, honey. I knew you could do it."

"Again, it was me who did the doing," grumbled Roy.

"And I need a chemist to make it for me," continued on Diggle, ignoring them both. He looked at Forbes-Hamilton. "Can you help me?"

"I don't know," said Forbes-Hamilton sweetly, "can you call me Bunny?"

"No," said Diggle without hesitation, "but he will." Diggle inclined his head towards Roy.

"Oh my God," said Roy in outrage, "I really am your butt monkey, aren't I? I'm not calling him Bunny! You've been taking advantage of me all day—"

"Ohh, lucky boy," said Forbes-Hamilton excitedly.

"And I'm sick of it," snapped Roy. "You shove me in dark ducting—"

"Never heard it called that before," said Forbes-Hamilton with interest.

"You dress me in women's clothing—"

"Definitely heard that before," said the older man knowingly.

"You nearly harpoon me while I'm being chased down by a group of men who were heavily packing—"

Forbes-Hamilton's expression was of definite intrigue. "Promise me you'll call me on your next boy's day out. This sounds right up my alley."

"Shut up, Bunny!" snapped Roy, frustrated that no one seemed to be taking him seriously right then.

"He called you Bunny," said Diggle smoothly. "Can we move on now? I really need a chemist and fast."

Roy threw up his hands in disgust. "Why isn't anyone listening to me?"

"I'm listening, kitten," said Forbes-Hamilton sympathetically. "There is no need to get all upset. Come and give your Aunty Bunny a hug." He moved towards Roy, arms outstretched.

Roy took a hasty step back. "Stop sexually objectifying me," he said in annoyance. "I'm straight. It's not going to happen!"

"Oh honey, if I had a dollar for every straight man I've slept with, I could afford a Rolex." Forbes-Hamilton lifted his arm and made a show of feigned surprise at the watch he was sporting. "Oh look, a Rolex, what do you know."

"Yeah, well, I'm not up for grabs," said Roy sourly. "I just want some appreciation."

"Which I am more than willing to give," said Forbes-Hamilton huskily.

"Not from you, from the no-neck circus freak over here," said Roy, glowering at Diggle.

Diggle rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine, you complete me, how's that?"

"Overly sarcastic sounding," grunted Roy.

"Oh good, you caught that, did you? I was worried I was being too subtle."

"Boys, boys, no fighting," tutted Forbes-Hamilton. He paused and gave them an impish look. "Unless you want to do it shirtless and oiled up and in that case, I am all for it. Let me just go get my camera." He went to grab his phone from the bedside table but Diggle grabbed his arm.

"Bunny," said Diggle with quiet authority.

"Be still my beating heart," said Forbes-Hamilton unevenly, looking all flustered.

"What I need you to get is your chemist," said Diggle, looking very serious now. "We have two friends who are in a lot of danger and this antidote is their only hope."

"Oh, you're going to be such a problem for me, I can tell," groaned Forbes-Hamilton. "I just can't seem to say no to you. I have the same problem with cheese cake even though I know it'll go straight to my thighs." He sent Diggle a hopeful look. "I don't suppose there is any chance you'll be doing the same at some point?"

"You suppose correctly," said Diggle evenly, "but if you do this for me, I will owe you a favor."

"Oh, color me intrigued," said Forbes-Hamilton breathlessly. "Such possibilities."

"A favor which I reserve the right to veto at the time of redemption," continued on Diggle smoothly. "Until you find a Diggle-sanctioned favor to ask."

"Your name is Diggle?"

"Yes."

"Oh God, I love you and want to have your babies," said Forbes-Hamilton emotionally. "Diggle is the best name ever. It rhymes with all the things I love doing... giggle… wiggle…" He gave Diggle a suggestive look. "Jiggle." Forbes-Hamilton got a faraway look in his eyes. "Diggle and Bunny. Doesn't that just sound right to you?"

"You're thinking about those names on monogrammed towels, aren't you?" asked Diggle dryly.

"A little bit, yes."

"Well, stop it."

Forbes-Hamilton pouted. "Party pooper." He looked over his shoulder at Roy. "Can you at least leave me my little Roy toy as a show of good will?"

"No, he can't," huffed Roy.

"I can help you with your girl problems," Forbes-Hamilton enticed him.

"Roy is still on the clock," said Diggle. "Sorry, can't spare him."

Forbes-Hamilton looked very disappointed. "Oh well," he sighed, "maybe next time then."

"There isn't going to be a next time," said Roy determinedly.

Forbes-Hamilton just gave him a knowing little smile. "We'll see."

"The chemist," Diggle reminded him. "We need a name and address. Like I said, it's urgent."

"I'll make a call," said Forbes-Hamilton easily. "Floyd will be expecting you that way."

"Tonight," Diggle pushed him. "We don't have any time to spare with this thing."

"Fine, tonight," said Forbes-Hamilton agreeably. "Your boy isn't doing too well, is he?"

"He's going to be fine," said Diggle grimly.

"I hope so, honey," said Forbes-Hamilton sympathetically. "I'm a sucker for a happy ending." He shot a sly look over at Roy. "And you can take that any way you want." His smile became decidedly cheeky. "I often do."

"Stop sexually harassing me," said Roy impatiently.

"Stop being so adorably irresistible," countered Forbes-Hamilton teasingly.

"Stop it both of you," said Diggle. He fixed the older man with a determined look. "Chemist."

Forbes-Hamilton inclined his head. "Chemist," he agreed reluctantly, "but I want you both to promise that you'll visit me again and tell me how all of this ends up working out." He smiled. "I really want my happy ending."

Diggle's jaw hardened. "So do I," he said quietly. "So do I."

Roy could hear the uncertainty in the other man's voice and was a little taken aback. Diggle was actually worried which made Roy worry. Maybe this whole thing was more serious than he'd first thought. He grimaced. This day really just kept getting worse.

A/N: And lastly, but not leastly (hmm… odd how last gets to have an ly but least doesn't. English is such a weird language)… just want to give a special shout out to all my guest reviewers who I can't reply to and thank them for their support. I mean, I totally get the not logging on thing and let's be honest, not giving me access to your email accounts is probably a smart move on your behalf. ;) I get into those things and run amok… canuck… black duck… quick fu… you know, maybe I'd better stop there. But, I do want to let you know I appreciate your lovely reviews and would respond if I could. :D Group cuddle, guys! Wow… some of you are really handsie… hey, I didn't say to stop.

More weirdness guaranteed in the next chapter and that's just in the A/N's… can't remember off the top of my head about the chapter. So, stay tuned if you like to walk on the wild side, chortle hysterically at danger, bitch slap the face of death… or you know, are waiting for your socks to finish drying in the dryer. Whatevs. :D