When Malcolm entered Wayne Manor, he was somewhat unsurprised to see his son standing there, disappointment clearly etched onto his lean face. Tommy raked his eyes over him, noted his injuries and scoffed. Thea however, stood stoically next to her mother, her expression cold and forbidding as she sneered at him then turned around and headed back up the staircase—clearly intent on not engaging.

There were several other people there too, but none of them introduced themselves to him. They all just stared at him, and Malcolm couldn't help wondering just who they were and how they were connected to Bruce and Faith Wayne.

Or Buffy...whatever her last name happened to be...

"I see you've been busy." Moira's voice was icy, her expression not much warmer as her blue eyes considered him emotionlessly.

"How are you Moira?"

"I'd be better if you would stay out of my children's lives."

Malcolm bristled. "Tommy is not your son."

"Might as well be," Tommy growled out seriously, "as Moira is the only one who ever bothered to take care of me growing up after mom died...and no Dad—throwing money at me does not constitute caring. It's called buying one's affections."

The elder Merlyn glowered at his only son, but wisely chose not to reply.

"Where's Faith and Bruce?" A red-headed woman spoke up.

"They should be retuning soon." Oliver replied as he glanced around looking for the blonde Slayer, but didn't see her anywhere. "Where did Miss Summers go?"

"She went down to wait for Faith, I think." Her sister Dawn replied, and Oliver nodded before turning to Tommy and his Mother.

"Can you take this one somewhere and get him cleaned up?" At that precise moment Angel appeared and acknowledged them in greeting before taking in Malcolm Merlyn with a critical eye.

"Mr. Merlyn?" Angel drawled, and Malcolm nodded, unsure who this new individual was. "I've just spoken with Bruce and he has asked that you come with me back to Wolfram and Hart. I have accommodations for you there and you'll be under my protection."

"And just who are you that you can protect me?" Angel's face shifted and Merlyn stepped back in surprise. "You're a vampire?"

"I'm Angel, Head of Global Operations at Wolfram and Hart. I was also once known as Angelus. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

Based on Merlyn's expression, which was stunned and a bit ashen, Angel figured his reputation had indeed—preceded him.

"I don't understand." Merlyn demanded, but his son's caustic laugh brought him up short.

"That'd be a first."

"Tommy..."

"Just go with him, Dad." Tommy then turned to Moira and placed a gentle kiss on the woman's cheek. "I'll even go with you, not that you'll care one way or the other but at least I'll feel better keeping my family out of whatever machinations you have planned."

Moira gripped Tommy's arm and shook her head in the negative, clearly unhappy with that idea but a sharp voice halted her.

"I'll go too." Buffy's clear voice echoed in the room, preceding her appearance as she nodded at Angel. "If I had known that Bruce wanted him taken there, I would've done it myself. Besides, Faith and Bruce just got back, so I'm fairly certain if I don't take daddy dearest out of here, Faith just might have a change of heart and gut you like a fish for almost killing her husband."

Several gasps and one 'shit' from Kennedy weren't wholly unexpected, but Tommy nodded his thanks all the same as he openly sneered at his father.

Buffy lifted up a bag and threw it at Angel. "There's some clothes and supplies in there. I'll meet you outside in a minute, I need to go upstairs and grab a few things."

Angel didn't reply, but took the bag out to his car. "I'm going to get some stuff too." Tommy clarified, as he too, headed up to the guest room where he'd left his overnight bag. There was several minutes of awkward silence before Oliver glanced at his Mother and she sighed.

"You wish to go as well?"

"I should stay here and protect you and Thea."

"They'll be fine." Willow said easily and Dawn nodded. "You have my word."

"And just who are you to give such a thing?" Merlyn scoffed, not seemingly impressed with the waif-like woman who was smiling at him cheekily.

Then her entire countenance changed from peachy complexion to black eyes, black veins and reddish black hair and Merlyn's eyes widened in sudden understanding.

"You're a witch."

"The most powerful witch there is." Kennedy offered with a wink.

"Vampires, demons, witches and Slayers." Malcolm shook his head. "Am I missing anything?"

"A heart?" Tommy replied sarcastically as he walked down the stairs and re-entered the room, earning another glare from his father while Oliver grinned at his best friends quick wit.

Oliver's gaze fell behind Tommy to Buffy, who was walking down the stairs now, changed out of her leathers and into fitted slacks, shirt and boots with her long hair down and flowing. She gazed at him and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"You might want to go and change too, Queen." Her voice wasn't much warmer than before, but Oliver could hear a tinge of amusement. "Not that you're not rocking the vigilante look..."

"Thanks, I think."

She didn't reply as she grabbed Merlyn by the arm and pulled him along, clearly not waiting for permission.

"I'm coming too." Tommy piped up and Buffy nodded and waved a hand, but didn't look back as everyone watched her herd Merlyn outside. When she was gone, Tommy grinned at his oldest friend.

"She's not much of a talker, is she?"

Oliver didn't think it was his place to share what Buffy had told him earlier, and he shrugged helplessly.

"Buffy doesn't trust too many people." Dawn clarified, as she felt the need to defend her sister. "And even though she's my sister, sometimes she prefers being alone."

Tommy didn't know what to say to that statement, but he missed the concerned look on Oliver's face as his friend watched the young woman who was once the key, give him a measured look.

Almost as if she was looking into his soul...

"I'm going to go change." Oliver gripped his Mom's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he took the stairs two at a time and rushed into his temporary room. It only took him about ten minutes to undress, change and pack his tech gear away into his duffel before he headed back downstairs. Thankfully, Tommy was waiting for him. They both said their goodbyes, but not before Moira extracted a promise that they would both behave and call her as soon as they arrived at Wolfram and Hart.

As they closed the front door and headed down the driveway to where Angel and Buffy were waiting, Tommy said playfully, "How is it your Mom makes me feel like I'm twelve all over again?"

"It's a talent." Oliver quipped and Tommy nodded in solidarity, before his face took on a pained expression.

"What are going to do about him?" He nudged his chin in the direction of the car, where his Father was sitting in the back seat.

"I don't trust him." Oliver admitted and Tommy just grunted in agreement.

"He looks pretty banged up, did Buffy or Faith do that?"

"Faith." Oliver smirked.

"She's quite the woman."

Oliver caught himself, as it probably wasn't wise to speak out of turn about another man's wife even if she was more than impressive. His gaze suddenly caught onto hazel eyes that were narrowed at him, and Oliver had to wonder how good Slayer hearing was.

Perhaps a vanilla answer was best...

"I can't imagine what being a Slayer is like," he said evenly, "but it seems like both Buffy and Faith know what they're doing."

"Nice deflection." Tommy chuckled, earning a side-eye from his friend—but their conversation ended as they approached the Chevy Surburban.

"You both coming along?" Buffy asked, and Oliver bowed his head in the affirmative.

"Seems like the smart move."

"Hmm." Was all the Slayer said as she moved over to the passenger side of the SUV, and stopped stunned when Tommy opened the door for her. Her hazel eyes were shocked, and disbelieving and Oliver had to wonder if anyone had ever shown her that level of courtesy before.

"Thank you." She said quietly as she climbed in and Tommy winked as he closed the door.

Then Buffy smiled genuinely at him, and Oliver had to admit the blonde Slayer was very pretty when she smiled like that.

Moving to the back of the SUV, he opened it and threw in his bags, and Tommy did the same before they climbed into the back seat behind Malcolm. Angel got into the driver's side and started the car, before taking off back into Gotham.

It was about ten minutes of silence before Tommy spoke up, which caused Oliver to grin inwardly as his best friend was never good with silence.

"So, Angel? How old are you?"

Angel smirked, as he glanced in the review mirror briefly making eye contact before he said simply, "I was born in 1727. Turned in 1753."

"Wow!" Tommy replied with excitement. "You've probably seen a lot in almost 300 years, huh?"

"Enough."

"Don't be modest, Mr. Angel," Malcolm drawled, "from what I remember you were also known as the Scourge of Europe, yes?"

Angel frowned, and Oliver saw Buffy's entire body tense as the vampire replied, "Something like that."

"And now you're a do-gooder?" Malcolm pressed.

"Something like that." Angel replied, his voice almost bored and Olivier might have believed he was, if not for the narrowing of his eyes and the way his left hand was clenched on the steering wheel.

Buffy placed her hand on Angel's knee and Oliver watched the vampire deflate instantly—a reaction that wasn't missed by anyone.

"So how do you two know each other?" Malcolm pressed breezily, which caused Buffy to turn around and glare at him.

"I killed him and he came back and now we're the best of buds..."

Oliver almost choked on his saliva as he just stared at Buffy, but based on Angel's quirked smile, Oliver figured there was probably some truth in Buffy's words.

Tommy, just looked utterly dumbstruck while Malcolm glared back with ire.

But thankfully, Buffy's answer had the added benefit of shutting the older man up long enough for them to reach Wolfram and Hart and once they were inside the building, Angel accessed a private elevator which led to a penthouse on the top floor which was completely furnished.

"There's a set of rooms down the hall." Buffy pointed to the left as she walked to the right and through what looked like a customized dojo with a map of Gotham on the wall. Oliver moved over to the large picture window, which faced out into Gotham towards the river on one side and the city on the other. When he turned around, Angel was watching him closely.

"Nice digs."

The vampire nodded. "This used to be Faith's apartment before she and Bruce married."

Oliver swallowed uncomfortably, his eyes shifting to the right where Buffy had disappeared to.

"Does Miss Summers live here now?"

"No. Buffy lives in London these days."

"Oh." Oliver didn't know what to think of that, as he watched Angel show Tommy where everything was located. Deciding to store his gear, Oliver walked down the long hallway and took the first room on the left, where he placed his duffel bags on the bed, which was a decent sized king. The room was sparsely furnished with a desk, chair, recliner and bench with a small bathroom attached. There was a fairly good sized window, which faced Wayne Tower in the distance. Oliver sat on his bed and stared at the skyscraper, which towered over all the other buildings in the city. Wayne Tower was the unofficial center of Gotham City, and employed nearly a quarter of the people within its boundaries. Oliver had done his due diligence of Bruce Wayne before he'd approached the man. He was one for the few people wealthier than himself, his family legacy going back even longer than the Queen's. The story of how his parents were killed was truly tragic, and the man himself had disappeared for seven years, only choosing to return before he was legally declared dead.

Bruce Wayne's penchant for women was widely known as well, although Oliver had realized quickly that it was a cover. The death of Rachel Dawes, Wayne's oldest friend had sent the man into a brief tailspin and he'd become a recluse for a time. Then when he'd re-emerged back into society, it wasn't long before he'd started seeing Faith Lehane. Pictures of the two of them were plastered on the covers of many a national newspaper, as well as televised gossip programs. But for all his celebrity, Bruce Wayne was fiercely protective of his wife, who unlike him—abhorred the spotlight.

Now Oliver knew why, but initially, he had been surprised by Faith Wayne's obvious dislike of notoriety—but now he knew better.

When he'd made the connection to Faith being a Slayer, and had investigated a bit more of what exactly that entailed, Oliver had been jealous of Wayne. To find such a woman who could not only protect herself, but stand in the shadows and live there—was to be admired. So he'd watched, and researched and had coveted Faith Wayne for himself.

But now Oliver had to wonder if it was Faith Wayne he'd coveted, or the fact that she was a Slayer?

Meeting Buffy Summers had put a wrench into many of his preconceived notions of what a Slayer was and is. The fact that she had died and returned more than once was truly shocking, but she seemed to be fairly unfazed by it. Whereas Faith Wayne was clearly comfortable living in domesticated bliss with her husband, Buffy didn't seem to be inclined to covet that kind of life.

Or perhaps she just hadn't met anyone able to stand beside her?

It was a strange thought, and one he'd have to ponder a bit more.

A knock at his door broke him out of his musings, as he said, "come in."

Tommy's head appeared around the doorframe, and he had his normally playful grin on his face.

"Where's your dad?"

"Taking a shower. Looked like Mrs. Wayne knocked quite a bit of sense into him. I think his bruises will have bruises."

"Serves him right." Oliver growled and Tommy sighed as he plopped down across from his best friend, his expression exasperated.

"I don't know what the old guy was thinking!? And I feel like a bit of an idiot for not realizing sooner just what a piece of work my own father is. I should be mad at you though."

"I know."

Oliver wasn't even going to pretend to misunderstand what Tommy was referring to.

"When I discovered your alter identity that night in Laurel's apartment, I had wondered how I could've missed it. The signs were all there."

"And you broke up with Laurel because of it."

"Yeah, well..." Tommy rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he chuckled sheepishly, "we both know how stubborn Laurel is."

Oliver nodded, not needing anyone to remind him of the legendary stubbornness of the Lance women.

"You know, I've often wondered what my life would've been like had I not gotten on the Queen's Gambit that day. Had I not taken Sara with me."

Tommy clasped his hand on his best friends shoulder and sighed.

"Laurel forgave you Oliver, and somehow, you need to try and find a way to forgive yourself for what happened. You were young, impetuous and stupid. Hell, we both were."

"But you didn't cheat on your fiancée, and then get her sister killed."

"You didn't kill Sara. Whomever sabotaged the Queen's Gambit did."

Oliver nodded, as his jaw clenched instinctively. He was still keeping secrets from those he cared about and he couldn't help wondering if it would ever end.

Because he knew who had sabotaged the yacht.

Both he and his Mother knew.

Thankfully, Thea and Tommy were still unaware.

"For what it's worth, Tommy? I think you and Laurel are perfect for each other."

"So you've told me a dozen times." Tommy grinned. "You know? You can be happy too."

Oliver shrugged. "Doubtful."

"Are you ever going to tell anyone what really happened to you when you were missing? I know some shit went down, I've seen your scars man. Somehow, you need to talk to someone."

Oliver just stared out the window, but didn't reply and finally Tommy took the hint and stood up—patting his friend on the shoulder one last time.

"I'm here to listen, whenever you're ready Oliver. Somehow, you need to let the past go and move on and I don't know how to help you do that if you won't talk to me."

Oliver nodded and watched emotionless, as his best friend walked out of his room and he couldn't help but feel bad that he couldn't give Tommy what he wanted.

The old Oliver back.

A few moments later a voice cleared and got his attention and Oliver's eyes widened as he gazed up at the blonde Slayer, who's expression was even more closed off than his own.

"Keeping secrets never works out in the end."

Eyes narrowing, Oliver stood up and moved over towards Buffy as he rasped lowly, "eavesdropping?"

"Kinda hard not to when the door is left wide open."

"Maybe you should walk away then? It's fairly rude to listen in on other people's private conversations."

Buffy scoffed, "Then close the door next time," and she turned away—but before she left the room completely she said with conviction, "At some point when you least expect it, he's going to find out just who sabotaged your family's boat. And when he does, he won't thank you for keeping it from him."

"And how do you know?"

Buffy didn't reply this time, as she walked out of his room, and Oliver was left standing there wondering just how Buffy Summers knew the truth.

And then he felt horrible for being such a jerk.

Tommy was right. He needed to figure out how to deal with his past before it consumed his present and future.