"Oh man, now this is going to be killer!" Tommy announced as they entered the club to a sea of flashing lights and blaring music.

"It will be, the moment Max Fuller sees me here…" Oliver replied dryly as he followed with Sara, Nyssa and a distinctly unhappy Slade beside him.

"Risk and reward remember Ollie, risk and reward." Tommy turned and gestured extravagantly, "Who could stay mad at a castaway? And if you're so worried, where's that bodyguard of yours?"

Oliver sent him a wry smirk. "What bodyguard?"

Tommy paused for a moment before a broad, mischievous smile broke out on his boyish face. "I like your style! Let's get to it shall we?"

He made a beeline for the bar, the other four following close behind him.

As she made her way through the crowd, Sara pulled her phone from within her elegant jumpsuit and checked it.

"Still nothing?" Nyssa spoke in her ear over the music, herself in a dark green outfit not dissimilar to Sara's.

"Not yet." The blonde shook her head. "But Alexei said he'll get in touch the moment he finds a lead on Deadshot."

"And you trust this man?"

"Not a bit." Sara scoffed, "But if he values his life he'll do what I asked."

"That's my yellow bird." Nyssa pressed a kiss to her cheek, "Now let us make sure Thomas doesn't get us into any trouble."

"Tommy? I think it's Slade we should be more worried about..." She turned over her shoulder to look at the Australian, who was eyeing the dancing crowd around him with nothing short of revulsion.

Nyssa followed her eyes and chuckled at the look on her counterpart's face. "Yes, well, we don't always get what we want, do we?"

Sara grinned in return and the two headed over to the bar to meet up with Oliver, Slade trailing behind at a distance.

They arrived just as Tommy was pulling out his wallet. "So what can I get you guys? Cocktail? Shots? Hell, I could probably buy the whole bar, that'll get old Maxie's attention."

"Vodka." Oliver said immediately. "Beluga, if they still do it."

"Make that two." Sara chimed in.

"Straight from the motherland herself huh?" Tommy quipped, "Nyssa?"

The raven-haired woman jerked to attention, having previously been keeping an eye on Slade. "Oh…"

She trailed her eyes along the admittedly impressive collection of spirits on hand, before the corner of her mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk.

"Bruichladdich, cask strength, neat if you don't mind, please."

Tommy's eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline. "Jeez… you're going all out with that one…"

Nyssa's smirk didn't fade. "I do not do things by half, Mr Merlyn." She said as she wrapped an arm around Oliver and Sara and pulled them close.

For the second time since meeting her, Tommy's mouth dropped open like a fish out of water. He was silent, dumbstruck for a moment before raising a finger and swallowing deeply. "And with that… I think I'll get the same…"

He turned away and signalled the bartender while Oliver chuckled.

"You know, I think you're the first person I've ever seen render him speechless." He told Nyssa.

"I tend to have that effect beloved, you of all people should know that by now."

Now it was Oliver's turn to fall silent while Sara giggled beside him. "I love you, you know that." She said to Nyssa. Slade rolled his eyes.

Perhaps fortunately, the bartender returned with their drinks before Nyssa could embarrass anyone else.

"To ourselves!" Tommy raised his glass, "And a yacht free, island free future!"

The others did the same. "Prochnost." Oliver murmured.

"Punch what?" Tommy frowned.

"It's Russian, means strength." Oliver replied passively.

"To a better future." Sara cut in.

"To us." Nyssa added lowly in Arabic, so only her fellow assassins could hear.

They brought their glasses back down as one, Oliver and Sara downing theirs immediately while Nyssa sipped hers easily and Tommy…

The poor man lasted all of two seconds before his eyes shot open and he lurched forward, just barely avoiding spitting out the burning alcohol. He coughed and spluttered as he finally managed to swallow, his eyes watering as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve with as much dignity as he could muster.

The other three laughed at his expense. In the background, even Slade smirked.

"Fucking hell…" Tommy exclaimed to Nyssa. "How do you drink that?"

She simply smiled at him innocently. "Islay peat isn't for everyone it seems."

"There's smoke and then there's a bonfire…" Tommy argued, "God, I'm going to be tasting that for a week…"

"Aren't you meant to be the one with a five year head start here?" Oliver joked.

"Yeah at drinking alcohol, not a mix of petrol and charcoal!"

Laughing, Sara turned away from them to face the fifth member of their posse. Slade quirked an eyebrow as she sidled up to him.

"You feel like a dance Slade?" she asked mischievously.

The Australian flicked his eyes to the dancefloor, then back to her. She could have sworn she saw him turn a slight shade of green.

"I'd rather forfeit the wager." He grunted.

Sara threw her head back and laughed. "You're too easy."

Slade was unimpressed. "I'll remember that in our next sparring session. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find somewhere dark, quiet, and free of idiots."

"You play nice with the other kids, you hear!" Sara called as he turned and moved towards the rear of the club.

Smirking to herself, she turned back around to find Tommy and Nyssa still debating the quality of their drinks.

"Islay Scotch is an acquired taste, Mr Merlyn." Nyssa quipped, "It should suit you."

"Hey what's that supposed to mean-" Tommy started, before catching sight of something behind them and losing his train of thought. "Oh… My… God…"

Oliver frowned at the stunned expression his friend wore. Following his line of sight, his eyes widened too when he spotted the last person he expected to see in a place like this.

"Laurel?"

The brunette had seen them as well, and her eyes narrowed for a moment before she schooled her face and approached them.

"Well look who finally decided to violate the ten commandments!" Tommy said loudly.

She sent him an unamused look but otherwise said nothing, and instead went straight up to the three former castaways. "Nyssa, Sara, Oliver, what are you guys doing here?"

Her tone was clipped, concise, somewhat lacking in warmth, something none of them missed.

"Oh, you know, just seeing what passes for fun after five years." Oliver answered casually. "What about you."

"Blame her." She jerked her head at the woman beside her who Oliver recognised from the courthouse as a fellow lawyer from CNRI.

"You'll thank me later." The woman grinned.

Laurel looked at her blankly. "Unlikely."

"Nothing in this world is unlikely my friend." Tommy came up and slung his arm around her shoulders. "Now how about you forget about your rich douchebag court cases and let me buy you a drink."

Laurel cracked a smile. "You don't go very far in helping me forget, Merlyn. If anything you add to the problem." She deadpanned, but allowed herself to be led up to the bar nonetheless.

"Sara, long time no see." She said tightly, "You've practically been a ghost this past week."

At her words, Sara's good mood cracked, and she faltered ever so slightly. She glanced at Oliver, but he was busy talking to Tommy.

"Yeah, sorry, I've been with Nyssa. We've been looking at properties together."

Laurel did not hide her surprise. "You're looking at moving in together?"

"Along with Ollie, yeah."

Laurel's face darkened. "Oh… you didn't spend enough time together on the island?"

"Quite the contrary." Nyssa cut in, a notable edge to her voice. "That Island brought us together in ways that you cannot understand Miss Lance. To survive, we had to stay together. We learnt to rely on each other, because we were all we had. That is not something easily discarded."

Laurel paused for a moment, considering her words. Though certainly carefully worded, there was nothing hostile about them, rather a gentle caution against any rebuttals.

"You're right, I don't understand." She said eventually, "And I probably never will. I'm sorry, it's just difficult, you know."

"I know." Sara said softly, raising her hand to her sister's bicep. "And I'm sorry for not being around very much, its still a lot to adjust to."

"That's okay." Laurel replied, "Just please don't cut your family out, okay?"

Sara opened her mouth to answer when she was interrupted by a buzzing in her pocket. Pulling it out, the briefly saw the number on the screen and she snapped to attention.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this." She looked up at Laurel, before immediately turning and heading for the corner of the room, out of the way of prying eyes and ears.

She never saw the scowl that crossed her sister's face.

Entirely fed up with the entire night and praying those Russian assholes Oliver and Sara called 'associates' came up with something soon, Slade made his way through the club, away from the strobe lights and raucous electronic music towards the quieter area at the back.

When did the music industry go to shit while we were away? He thought to himself as he did his best to block out the infernal noise.

Spying a few people ducking behind a curtain to another section of the club, Slade decided that anywhere was better than the main hall so he decided to follow them.

Pushing the red material aside and moving smoothly through an arched doorway, he found himself in a dimly lit, somewhat quiet back room, with a smaller bar at its end, a jukebox and even a pool table.

Mercifully, the jukebox was currently playing a gentle rock ballad from the nineties.

Slade looked around the far less crowded room appraisingly. This was much more like it…

With nothing better to do, he adjusted his simple button up shirt and made his way to the bar.

"Reuther's, on the rocks." He requested as he pulled up a barstool.

The man behind the counter looked at him, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Reuther's, Australian rum." Slade said tightly.

The man frowned. "I'm sorry sir, we don't have that here."

Slade rolled his eyes and groaned.

"If you're after something Australian we do have Bundaberg…"

Slade felt like he was going to vomit then and there.

"Forgive my language, but if you serve me that shit it will either end up down the drain or in someone else's face." He rumbled.

Before the bartender could respond, Slade found himself bumped in his seat by a passionately kissing couple that looked like they weren't even old enough to drink.

Slade grimaced.

"On second thought, hit me up." He said resignedly to the man before dropping his face into his hand.

How in the ever-loving fuck did he end up here?

Back in the club proper, Oliver and Nyssa watched as Sara left, and Laurel made her way back over to Tommy, almost deliberately avoiding them.

"Something tells me Sara's sister doesn't think much of us." Nyssa observed.

Oliver snuffed a laugh. "No I don't suppose she would, even after that night at her apartment. One night is hardly going to atone for five years of pain Sara and I caused her."

Nyssa looked up at him. "You seem to be far more accepting of this now?"

Oliver nodded stiffly. "I always expected it, it just… took a while to process. All of this, being Oliver Queen again, its not what I've been used to."

"Will you ever stop referring to yourself in the third person that way?" Nyssa smirked at him, a look he returned in full.

"Oh I'll do that the moment you decide to come and dance with me." He said in a husky whisper.

Nyssa simply chuckled. "In your dreams, Oliver Queen." She said as she tilted her head back and brought her lips to his.

For a moment, the music around them dulled as they were drawn in by the sensation, Oliver deepening the kiss ever so slightly before-

"Oliver what the hell?"

The two split apart at the incensed shriek, turning to see an irate Laurel Lance in front of them.

A look of complete shock was plastered on her face, her lip curled and her fingers clenched tightly around her recently-acquired glass.

A guilty looking Tommy stood behind her. "Oh… yeah, I might've forgotten to mention that…"

Oliver ignored him. His eyes were locked on Laurel's.

"Laurel, this is not what you-"

"You are unbelievable!" she stormed up to him. "You have the nerve to come back after all these years and tell me that you're still with Sara, after you ruined both our lives by screwing her behind my back! And now you're doing the same thing to her!"

"Laurel." Oliver hissed through clenched teeth, his low tone forcing her to pause as he fixed her with a piercing, ice cold stare. It was all but identical to the one Sara had given her the day they'd first seen each other again

Oliver held the stare, unblinking. "It's not. What. You. Think."

His words were slow, enunciated. Dangerous.

Laurel, unfortunately, was too incensed to take any notice. "Two can play at that game, Oliver." She snapped, before gesturing to Tommy. "Why don't you ask your so called friend over there what he did while you were gone."

Tommy blanched. "Whoa, Laurel, are you sure you want to go there?"

"You already went there Tommy." She silenced him.

Oliver opened his mouth to say something but Laurel was having none of it. "You know what, I don't even care." She threw her hands up in exasperation. "This is why I never leave the office. At least there the only thing that can hurt you is losing a case."

She turned and stormed out of the club. Cursing, Tommy followed after her. Oliver made to go as well but was held back by Nyssa.

"Not now, Oliver." She said firmly. "There is nothing you can say that she will listen to right now. As I said before, she simply cannot understand our circumstances as yet."

Oliver bit his lip, frustrated and angry, but most of all sorry for the continued hurt he was causing the elder Lance sister. "If I could just speak to her alone-"

"Patience, beloved." Nyssa insisted. "She is suffering as well, and needs time just as we do. You cannot fix everything at once."

"I know, I just…" Oliver sighed heavily and dragged his hand down his face. "Don't like leaving things this way."

It was then that Sara returned, a grim look on her face.

"Was that who I expected?" Nyssa asked.

Sara nodded. "His name is Floyd Lawton." She said, "Bratva intel has his last recorded address at 1700 Broadway, Papp Motel, room 52."

"Good work." Oliver said, "Let's hope he's a creature of habit."

"Hey, where'd Laurel go?" Sara looked around her.

"She went home early." Oliver replied quickly, not willing to dwell on those thoughts. "Let's get Slade and get out of here so we can take down this bastard."

"No." Nyssa shook her head. "This is only his last known location. He might have moved on. It is not worth all of us running down what may be a dead end. You two stay and enjoy the rest of your night, I'll go."

Oliver looked like he wanted to protest, but ultimately couldn't find any flaws in her argument.

"Fair enough." He nodded. "Slade will be pissed he missed it though…"

Nyssa smirked. "I know."

"The name of the Island we're on is Lian Yu." Slade revealed as they emerged from the forest onto a rocky escarpment. "If you ask the Chinese, it means-"

"Purgatory." Nyssa interjected sharply.

Slade paused and looked at her. Despite staying the night near the fuselage and the lengthy trek they'd embarked on at first light, she hadn't yet removed any of her armour. Or left behind any of her weapons. Her sleek compound bow was still held casually at her side, ready to bring up at an instant's notice and her sword remained sheathed on her hip.

"Great… another smart ass…" he muttered to himself, turning and leading her further up the escarpment, stopping briefly to gather some red berries from a small shrub.

Eventually, they came to a ledge that overlooked the vast majority of the Island. In the distance, Slade could still make out the cleared ground of Fyres' old camp, tents and infrastructure still standing even twelve months after his army's defeat.

In the bay meanwhile, was the still-smoking wreck of the Amazo.

Slade stilled, his eyes locked on the half-sunk vessel, memories racing through his head.

"Ivo's dead… as dead as you are!"

"You cannot die… until you have suffered… as I have suffered…"

"Poor Sara… How many times are you going to watch her die?"

His eyes wavered, his jaw clenching painfully, but he refused to close his eyes or look away. He would not allow himself that comfort.

"It is to be said that this is a rather expansive island, Mr Wilson. How is it that one such as yourself came to be here?" an accented voice cut through his thoughts, and Slade turned back around to face the armed woman. For a moment he'd completely forgotten her presence.

He hesitated before answering. "I was sent here on a rescue mission." He said tightly. "Target extraction for Australian Intelligence. You see that camp ten clicks away?"

He pointed at Fyre's ex-base. Nyssa followed him and nodded silently.

"Mercenaries. Hired on a multi-year mission to destabilise the Chinese economy."

"Clearly things didn't go to plan." Nyssa remarked.

"Yeah… you could say that…" Slade murmured distantly as more memories presented themselves. "Two and a half years I've been here now. Each and every day of them has been hell."

"That long?" Nyssa raised an eyebrow. "Yet your government has not sent a recovery party."

"It was a high-risk mission." Slade shook his head. "They knew the probability of failure. Any means of contact I had was lost when my bird was shot out of the sky."

"You were sent alone?"

"Like I said, it was high-risk. I was the best they had and all they could spare." Slade lied, "Quite often one agent is more effective than an entire unit."

"I see." Nyssa said. "And your two companions?"

Slade snorted. "Castaways, like they said last night. Fuck knows how they survived before they found me."

"Yes… they don't seem the most resourceful types. The mouthy one was lucky I didn't kill him on sight. Pampered American trust fund brats I'm guessing?"

Slade's eyes suddenly hardened murderously and he stalked towards her. "That kid is a better person than you'll ever know!" he snarled. "I have seen him grow from a useless little whelp to a soldier I would trust with my life! He almost single-handedly stopped Fyres. If it weren't for him I wouldn't be alive today."

Nyssa simply raised her bow in response, stopping him in his tracks.

Slade stopped at the arrow aimed between his eyes, but his glare never left his face.

An entire minute passed before either of them spoke again.

"So how did you come to be here, Nyssa Al Ghul."

"It matters not." Nyssa kept her bow drawn.

"You don't exactly look like a Chinese fisherman, nor any mercenary I've ever met." Slade pressed. "Which leads me to believe you're here for another purpose. The last person who did so got a bullet to the head."

"Is that a threat?"

"Only if you make it so." Slade growled, "I have no desire to engage you without cause. What I would like to know is why you came here."

"My affairs do not concern you-"

"The fact that you are armed as you are suggests you came here expecting a fight." Slade cut her off, raising his voice, "And the fact that you're alone like I was, suggests you were sent here, like I was.

Nyssa said nothing, which Slade took as proving his point.

"Now I would like to offer you a deal." He spoke slowly. "My friends and I will help you to survive here, and in turn we would like passage of this Island with whoever comes to rescue you."

"Let me make one thing clear." Nyssa hissed suddenly. "I do not care for you or your associates. I need nothing from you and you certainly will not be coming with me when I leave."

She turned and began walking away.

"So you're just going to walk away?" Slade called out, almost amused.

"Worry for yourselves!" Nyssa whirled back around to face him angrily. "I am more than capable of surviving on my own!"

Slade let out a bark of laughter. "I would believe you, if it weren't for what you're about to step on."

Nyssa frowned, and looked down beside her. Nothing was immediately apparent, but on closer inspection she could make out a tiny sliver of rusted metal poking up out of the ground about two metres away.

She narrowed her eyes at it. "What exactly is that?"

"Get over here and I'll show you."

Her suspicious glare not leaving him, she slowly made her way back over to him. As soon as she was far enough away, Slade gathered a small rock from the ground and threw it with pinpoint accuracy at the metal in the ground.

A moment later, Nyssa found herself shielding her face as a violent explosion of heat and light assaulted her. The blast was over in an instant, leaving behind it a gaping cater in the ground.

Nyssa simply stared at it, stunned.

"It's a mine." Slade said gruffly. "Left over from World War Two. The Japanese laid them all over the Island. Good luck surviving here without knowing where they are."

She turned her head to look at him, ground her teeth together. "I will manage."

Slade huffed. "Fine, suit yourself. Take these for the road then."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the berries he'd gathered earlier.

Nyssa frowned at him momentarily, before taking them with a small nod of thanks.

She brought on of them up to her mouth, only for Slade to swat it violently out of her hand.

Her sword was at his throat in an instant. "Touch me again and-"

"You eat that and you're dead in ten minutes!" Slade snarled, finally losing his patience and entirely uncaring of the blade at his throat.

Nyssa faltered at his proclamation, which allowed Slade to knock her weapon aside and draw his own.

"My friends and I have lived here for a combined five years!" he snapped at her "We know this Island, what to eat, what to avoid. How to stay alive! I don't care how skilled a fighter you are, you won't last a week here if you're not mindful of your surroundings!"

Nyssa froze.

She titled her head quizzically at him, her eyes hard and mean. "What did you say?"

Slade held her glare. "Always mind your surroundings." He repeated, his voice gravelly.

Nyssa hurled her sword at him instantly. Slade though was up to the challenge and caught her blade with his own before it could reach his throat.

"Where did you learn that?" she hissed at him.

"Where did you?" Slade rebuked, forcing her blade away.

"It was taught to me from birth. Now answer me!"

Slade frowned at her, wondering why his phrase had affected her so much. Her actions were intriguing to him, as were her weapons and armour. They were almost the same as-

"I learnt that on this Island." He told her, lowering his blade. "Now I'm giving you a choice. You can take your chances with the mines, the Wolves and the poison, or you can come back with us and we all have a chance to survive."

Nyssa was silent, deep in thought, weighing up her options.

She did not like any of this.

Marooned on an island with no determined rescue, in hostile territory with people she did not trust.

Ordinarily, she would have still stuck to her own devices, she was well enough trained to get by, but something about the man opposite her – Wilson – intrigued her.

Something he'd said…

She flicked her eyes back to his.

"Very well, I will come back with you. For now."

They turned, leaving the remains of Fyres' camp behind them in the distance, the tents still fluttering in the wind.

They never saw one of the tents open.

It was a sheepish Tommy Merlyn who re-entered Poison, having both failed to explain to Laurel the unique relationship Oliver shared with Nyssa and Sara, and get her to come back and hear them out.

In a way he sympathised with her. He understood what it must have looked like to her, seeing Oliver with Nyssa after what he had done to her in the past, but mostly he was just sick of the drama. What he wanted more than anything else in the world was to go back to the way things were five years ago, when it was just the three of them, himself, Ollie and Laurel – a dream that wasn't exactly helped by the revelation that Laurel had all but spilled into the open.

"One night, that's all I want… Just one fucking night…" he grumbled to himself as he walked up to an apprehensive Oliver and a confused Sara.

"Hey guys, sorry about that." He dragged his hand through his hair.

"About what?" Sara frowned.

"Just your sister venting her feelings." Oliver dismissed, putting his hand on her shoulder. Sara looked like she wanted to press for more information, but remained silent.

"Yeah… among other things…" Tommy muttered. "Hey, where'd Nyssa go?"

"She had to leave." Sara shrugged, "Said something about her father wanting to speak to her."

"Ah… gotta love those international timezones." Tommy wiped his top lip nervously. "Listen, Ollie, about what Laurel said-"

"Well well…" a sleazy voice suddenly sounded from behind them. All three turned as one to see a man about a decade their senior with his arms crossed and two hulking bouncers flanking him. Oliver recognised him immediately and felt his heart sink.

"When I saw the guest list I thought it was some kind of joke." The man said. "But then again, you never made smart decisions did you Oliver?"

Oliver took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. "Max Fuller. How you been?"

Fuller smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Happy you drowned."

Fuller and his bodyguards marched the three of them into a secluded room at the back of the club.

Pushing the curtain aside, Oliver was shoved in, Tommy and Sara following soon after him.

"What are you doing Max?" Sara asked confidently, "My dad's a cop, you try anything he'll bring hell down on you."

Fuller scoffed at her smugly. "Back off baby Lance, this doesn't concern you. You're nothing but this prick's latest conquest. From what I hear, your dad will probably thank me."

"Hey listen here you jumped up fuckwit!" Tommy suddenly cried, putting himself between Oliver and the slowly advancing bouncers. "If you want to get to him, you've gotta go through me!"

It was everything Oliver could do not to facepalm. He shared an uneasy glance with Sara. Her visible frustration matched his own. Fuller and his thugs would be no problem for Al Sah-him and Ta-er Al Sahfer, but Oliver Queen and Sara Lance?

Oliver scowled to himself. No matter which way he looked at it, he wasn't coming out of this unscathed.

Tommy meanwhile, for all his bravado, finally realised his predicament. "Fuck… they are probably going to go through me…" he quipped, clenching his fist and preparing to sucker punch the nearest man.

For his part, the tattooed bouncer merely smiled and shrugged his shoulders to loosen them. He stepped forward, drew his fist back and-

"Hey!"

The bouncers froze at the deep, accented voice that rang out. They looked over Oliver's shoulder at where it came from, to find a lone man sitting at the back bar, previously shrouded in shadow and thus unnoticed.

His back turned to them, he slowly lowered a glass of amber liquid down to the bar top. When he next spoke, his voice was low and mean and dangerous.

"Let. The Kid. Go."

Oliver flicked his eyes to Sara's once more, her irises again full of concern, only this time it wasn't for him.

Fuller, unfortunately, did not recognise the voice as they did. "Hey buddy, this isn't your problem. Queen here couldn't keep his dick in his pants and now he's going to pay for it. Now I suggest you leave or I'll have you thrown out with them, it's your choice."

Oliver fought to keep his laughter contained. The fool had no idea who he was dealing with…

At the bar, Slade said nothing more. He calmly raised his glass once more and downed the rest of the contents. Then he set it back down, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and sighed heavily.

"Chosen."

And then, in perhaps what was the most perfectly coincidental timing conceivable, just as The Foreman O'Rourke by The Rumjacks started blaring from the jukebox, Slade whirled around and hurled his now empty glass directly into the closest bouncer's face.

It shattered on impact and the man's head snapped back from the force of the throw. He dropped to the ground, screaming, raking his hands down his face to try and remove the glass shards.

Oliver and Sara acted quickly, tackling Tommy to the side as Fuller's remaining bouncers charged at their attacker.

Slade simply stood from his chair and let them come.

He jerked his head to one side, avoiding a wild punch before ducking a round arm swing from another. Bobbing up behind the man, he grabbed his shoulders and yanked him backwards, driving his knee into the base of his spine.

Slade released him and turned his attention to the second bouncer. He parried another punch then quickly intercepted the next one, wrapping his arm around his attacker's and slamming the unfortunate man's head down onto the bar top.

Coasters and teeth flew everywhere as the bouncer joined his counterparts on the floor.

Growling, Slade turned and stared daggers at Fuller. The man's eyes bugged and he let out a very un-manly squeak, just as his backup arrived in the form of the rest of his security staff.

For his part, Slade simply grinned. "Now that's more like it."

He snatched an abandoned bottle of barrel-strength whiskey from behind the bar, took a swig and advanced towards the men who by now had drawn their tasers.

Slade just kicked up a pool cue from the ground and twirled it around himself effortlessly, bringing himself around just in time to block a strike from the first of the new arrivals. Yanking the man close, he spat the whiskey in his mouth right into the other man's eyes.

At the burning sensation of the high proof alcohol, the man dropped his weapon and stumbled away, wailing in agony.

Slade paid him no attention. With four security guards left, he simply snapped the pool cue over his knee and held the separate halves up defensively.

And then he went to work.

The guards stood no chance.

It was almost pitiful the way Slade mowed them down – while the way too fitting music kept playing in the background.

"Holy shit!" Tommy exclaimed as he saw Slade clock another guard on the side of the head, launching him across the room. "This night just got awesome! Tell Nyssa her bodyguard's a fucking legend!"

Oliver fought to keep his laughter contained. He almost felt sorry for Fuller and his goons. Almost. They had started it after all.

Sara meanwhile looked distinctly annoyed as she eyed Slade's improvised batons. "Those are my damn weapons…" she scowled to herself.

Slade paid no attention to them as he slung another guard off himself, sending him flying into the remaining cues on the sidewall, scattering them across the floor amongst the groaning guards.

With a quick one-two combination to the ribs and then the temple, the final guard was down for the count. It was then that Slade turned his attention to the now retreating Fuller.

His chin quivering, he raised a finger at the approaching Australian. "You can consider yourself banned for life, all of you!" He growled unconvincingly.

Slade came to a stop in front of him. Looking him up and down, he simply smiled smugly.

"That's fine by me."

Then he stomped with all his might on the angled end of the aiming que between Fuller's legs.

The chunky grip flew up and slammed into Fuller's crotch. If his eyes were wide before, they positively exploded from his head as his hands flew to his groin, his legs collapsed inwards and he too sank to the ground, joining his thugs in a beaten, groaning heap.

Looking around at the devastation he caused, Slade picked up the aiming cue, set it neatly back in the rack and turned to face the other three. "You're welcome kid."

"You, my friend, are a certified hero." Tommy said and he dusted himself off. "Sara, if your dad ends up investigating this, can you please get him to pass you a copy of the surveillance footage."

Sara grinned. "No promises Merlyn."

"Thank you, Slade, now the cops are going to be after us as well as Fuller." Oliver pointed out

Slade simply grunted. "I don't see what the problem is. My job is to protect you. That's what I did."

"I do know one thing though" he whispered as he leant close to Oliver's ear.

"What's that?"

"Nyssa's going to be pissed she missed this."

Nyssa stalked cautiously through the hallway of hotel. The lights around her shone far too brightly for her liking, but she didn't have a choice. If she cut the power then Lawton would be alerted immediately.

She moved extra carefully, thankful that it was so late at night and therefore unlikely anyone would be out of their rooms. She held her compound bow tightly in front of her, an arrow drawn but not yet nocked.

Slowing her pace as she came to the door, she trod silently up to its side, preparing herself.

If this Lawton was as deadly as his file made him out to be, she would likely only get one shot at this.

Peering under the doorway, she could see a faint flickering light, accompanied by the rapid tapping of a keyboard.

She took a deep breath, drawing her bow slowly before leaping into action.

Kicking the door in with a single, violent strike, she poked her head around the frame and assessed the room in a split second. It was simple, tidy. A black duffel bag lay along the wall, while at its centre on a table was a simple black Dell laptop.

It was not the computer that seized her attention though.

It was the man sat behind it, a .50 calibre Berrett rifle beside him.

Nyssa released her arrow immediately, sending it hurtling towards Lawton. The man was quick however and dodged to the side, his eyes shooting open in shock momentarily.

She fired a second projectile in quick succession but by then Lawton had thrown himself behind the couch he'd been sitting on, turning it on its side for better cover.

The element of surprise lost, Nyssa made to charge after him before he could gather his rifle, only to dive back behind the doorway as he reappeared, this time unleashing a devastating burst of fire from the twin-barrelled miniature gatling gun mounted on his wrist.

Shooting off a final arrow before ducking for cover, Nyssa cursed herself for missing it. It was not a weapon she'd ever encountered before.

She plastered her hands over her ears to drown out the roar of his fire, waiting for him to run dry so she could retaliate but the rounds just kept coming, absolutely tearing the doorframe beside her to shreds.

Nyssa frowned. Ordinary ammunition could not do so much damage. Even hollow points weren't that powerful.

It was then that one of Lawton's shell casings rolled through the door, and Nyssa's eyes widened at the orange band around it.

Oh damn…

Gas expanders.

Perhaps the rarest multi-weapon bullet of them all, gas expanders were entirely unique among ammunition variations for the simple fact that they were a two stage round. After the initial firing, the bullet hit the target and simply blew apart, blasting outwards by virtue of compressed gas stored within the bullet itself.

They blew big and they blew wide. They were capable to tearing a man completely in half.

Scowling to herself, Nyssa decided to fight fire with fire, and reached behind her for one of the unique arrows in the rear of her quiver. Recognising the different shape of the fletching, she drew it and fired it blindly into the room.

A second later she heard the telltale explosion of the tiny wad of plastic explosive embedded in its tip.

Lawton's fire ceased immediately and a crashing sound was heard, so she immediately threw a smoke bomb down into the doorway.

It detonated and she emerged from the other side with another arrow drawn, this one aimed to kill.

She scoured the room, but there was no sign of Lawton.

It was then that she saw the curtains swinging in the breeze let in by the open window behind them.

Cursing herself for her lack of foresight, Nyssa resigned herself to a failed night when she spied the laptop, abandoned on the ground, an arrow piercing its screen.

It was better than nothing...

Knowing she stood no chance of gleaning any information from the computer in its damaged state, she tucked it under her arm and exited the room.

There would be time for self-admonishment later. For now, she had to get back to the others.


Okay so I kind of broke the rules a little bit in this one. The song mentioned in the bar fight was technically released in 2018, not 2012 but I couldn't not include it, as it fits perfectly and its by an Australian band too.

Quick note – again – on Laurel, I know it might seem like I'm bashing her, I just want to reiterate that I'm not, I promise, I just need to get her in a very specific position for the storyline for the next episode. I'm trying as hard as I can to add an element of realism and humanity to each of these characters. They all make mistakes. They all like and dislike different things about each other.

We saw in the second season how reactive Laurel could be, and her reaction to Oliver and Nyssa in this chapter didn't feel entirely unnatural to me. As far as she knows, Oliver was cheating again, with Nyssa, and half of her reaction comes from her care for her sister. I've tried to show that Laurel is trying to come to terms with her feelings, but it will take time and proper conversations, which just hasn't happened yet but will shortly.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, Slade's antics in the club and on the Island (plus a sneaky little clue to his past. Maybe.) As always, feel free to let me know what you think, any feedback is truly appreciated.