A.N.: Tweaked the canon a bit in this one. In this timeline, Laurel did take the job in SanFran. At least for a little while.

23. Money matters

Laurel woke slowly. The blissful moments of peace and cool sheets against her sleep warmed skin lingered as awareness settled into her mind. She stretched, lazily. It was morning. Some light filtered through the curtains. It was spring. The light was bright. She had a hearing with the state bar representatives later in the day at the courthouse, and nothing at all to do till then. She might as well turn around and sleep some more. Everything was calm and quiet.

But she knew that Slade was likely waiting with a cup of coffee, and it had become a morning tradition over the past week that she was hard pressed to break.

Because this was how their coffee encounter had ended. Just like Laurel had suspected from the beginning. But somehow, she ended up not minding it. Perhaps I shouldn't dismiss his persuasiveness as easily anymore… She smiled in the pillow as she remembered how the conversation had gone –

"You do know that I have a place and you're welcome there as long as you want to." Not need. Want.

"I need my own place, Slade."

"Not arguing, love, just pointing out that you ain't got one right now. And you still have to stay somewhere while you look, and I have a spare room."

They'd gone a cup of coffee and two croissants on that one - Laurel had managed to setup her new phone with her old phone number in the meanwhile, and as she surface checked her missed messages, she found out that, yes, her old apartment had been sold…

She sighed – the easy sigh of a person reluctant to abandon the comfort of a bed, yet impatient to move forward with the day. Laurel reached for the dressing gown that was draped over a chair next to the vanity and quickly checked her appearance. She quirked a smile at herself – she couldn't even lie to herself and claim that she had been talked into this. She'd agreed with her eyes open.

Because she knew Slade. Or at least she felt reasonably sure she knew the best parts of him as he had seen the worst of hers. She felt safe with him. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn't ready to be completely alone yet either.

And true to his word – Slade had been a near perfect roommate. They ordered take-out more than they cooked. They had their own bathrooms so there had been no fights about that either. Hotel staff had already come once for their weekly clean-up schedule. Honestly, she and Slade managed to side-step all the common house sharing issues and all things considered - Laurel thought this was much better than the dorms at uni.

Or living with Tommy who'd been such a slob. Though that thought made her chest ache. It will soon be a year, she paused, remembering. In moments like this, it still felt so fresh. She wondered if that would ever change.

She sat down, for the moment. The reflection in mirror much less jovial than just seconds before. It was both a pain and comfort to realize that all the things that made her were still there. In her. Hurting. Getting better, she thought and hoped simultaneously.

She reached for the nearest drawer and pulled out her checkbook. An amused smile rose back to her face as she scribbled down a number and her signature. After all – sharing a living space with Slade was near perfect. There had been an incident.

Laurel pocketed the check, brushed her fingers through her hair for the worst sleep tangles and went for the kitchen where she knew Slade, in his impeccable suit, and coffee would already be waiting.

IKYWT

"Dinah…," Quentin sighed. "You just have to give her time. Both of you," because he knew that his ex-wife wasn't here just for her own initiative. He could tell Sara had a hand in this. His youngest was fervent about rekindling her relationship with her sister.

"She's not in her apartment – the manager told me it's being sold. Sold! Quentin – something is up with that girl," Dinah replied. She was beyond frustrated. At Sara's urging she had come to Star city. She had requested time off from her work. All of it to meet with Laurel – who had been consistently ignoring her calls now that her phone was back on, who had apparently sold her apartment without leaving any forwarding notice. Dinah had no idea where her daughter was. "I'm worried." It had been a week.

"Well, maybe it's a bit late for that," he snapped back and instantly regretted it. Dinah's shocked expression made his own turn remorseful. "Look. I'm sorry…"

Because while past few weeks hadn't been easy for all of them, it was the past few years that had been hard for him. When Sara had come back and Dinah too – on her youngest daughter's trail, for a second there, Quentin had hoped that they could be a family like they had been more than half a decade ago.

But then that awful dinner had happened. And Laurel had gone off to Chile – and he'd never have known if Moira Queen of all people hadn't told him that their girls had gone away together just before he'd been ready to announce Laurel as a missing person…

He'd had long, lonely weeks since then to remember that for years - it had been just him and Laurel. And that he'd been too harsh with his daughter when he'd found out she might be having some problems. That harshness had been born out of worry and his own experience, but he was too self-aware to allow himself to take any comfort or excuse in that. Hence when Moira had let him know that Thea was back – and consequently Laurel too, he had reached out.

And when he'd been blessed enough to get a response – he'd promised to do better. So, when he'd finally met his daughter weeks after that night – he'd hugged her. And all he had cared about was that she was safe, warm and well. So, if Dinah needed something from Laurel – she was not going to get a shortcut through Quentin. Sara had respected his stance when he'd explained.

"You should be sorry," Dinah replied, her tone brimming with offense very much taken.

"Actually," he sighed. "I'm not." And when he saw indignation rise on his ex-lover's face, he continued, "Laurel's fine. I saw her just two days ago," he'd offered her a place to stay with him, to give her some money if she needed any. She'd declined all offers for help.

Quentin would have worried if he hadn't seen the healthy flush and fullness in her cheeks, the light in her eyes that had been missing for longer than he cared to count. So, he knew that wherever she was – she was well taken care of. "And what she wants to do with her property is entirely her business."

"Where did you see her?" Dinah grasped at the information offered.

Quentin sighed, rising from his chair. "I'm not telling you that," he'd never explicitly promised Laurel to keep her secrets, but she was his daughter. He was her safeguard. It was her right from the day she'd been born. Same as with Sara. "If you're worried – know that she's okay," that was all he would offer Dinah. "If you want to mend fences – you'll have to wait until she's ready to do that."

"Ready… Well, I…" Dinah could hardly rein in her frustration. "I'm her mother."

Quentin moved towards his office door. It was time for Dinah to go. This encounter was draining him, and he already knew he'd have to call his sponsor not to reach for a bottle. "And yet you conveniently forgot that when you packed up your stuff and left both of us," he did not have it in him to sugarcoat the truth. He'd wanted so hard to forget and to forgive. The past few weeks had made him open his eyes to the fact that no amount of wanting would erase the fact that his wife had left him and his eldest daughter. And to add insult to injury - hadn't bothered to give any news for years.

"That is uncalled for," Dinah rose from the chair. Her chin in the air. "Sara…"

"Don't you bring Sara into this," and now he was angry. He was just starting to rebuild his relationship with his youngest. "Go before I say something I might regret," because it burned on the edge of his tongue. All Sara did, was try and make you into the mother you should have been.

Dinah huffed and left. Quentin sagged against the door.

IKYWT

Every morning for the past week Laurel woke with the thought that this is the day she'll find her own place and move out. And yet every time she looked for apartments to rent – none seemed suitable. Some were outrageously expensive, some were too rundown, and in the end – she wasn't even sure in which part of town she wished to be. It's not like she had a job around which to try and base herself. And in the end, she just ended up picking up another one of her boxes from storage and moving it into her bedroom at Slade's.

So as every morning so far – she knew that this would not be the day, she would announce that she was moving out. Hence when she marched into kitchen, she was resolute - one hand on hip, other extended towards Slade with a slip of paper in her hand.

"What is this?" he straightened from the kitchen counter, his expression wary, as if the paper in her hand was a snake that might suddenly strike at him. All possible 'good morning's' forgotten with this chance attack. "Because if this is about your shirts turning pink, let me tell you, love, I do not own anything pink. Blame the room service." He even raised his hands as if she was pointing a gun at him. Nodded with his head towards a steaming cup of coffee as a peace offering.

Laurel rolled her eyes at the dramatics and shook the paper at him. "It's a check," she stated the painfully obvious.

"I don't provide those kinds of services either," he shot back immediately, his hands still raised. "At least not for money," he couldn't help it – half smile, half smirk brought light to his face.

She couldn't help it either. She laughed and shook her head. "It's a check, because I've been living here," she said, exasperated but amused. "I've been living here for the entire past week, and I'm no closer to finding a place, unfortunately." That last part rang false enough in her own ears that she had to pause in surprise.

"And I told you, you're welcome to stay as long as you want," Slade lowered his hands and hid them behind his back. "Keep your money, love." He took a cautious step backwards.

Laurel's mouth tightened in determined line. She had played ping pong with wiring Thea money and Thea wiring it back several times, and now it seemed that the same game was afoot with Slade. She knew that neither Thea, nor Slade minded, that they could afford it. And once upon a time she had let Oliver whisk her around Europe just because they felt like it. But this was different.

Those times with Oliver… She'd caved because she loved him. And she'd loved him more than she'd needed to assert her independence. And she'd been just this side of afraid about pushing the issue. But Thea was her friend. And Slade was… Slade also was her friend. And she was not poor for crying out loud. She was not a charity case. And she needed her independence and sense of control more than she needed to please either of them.

"This is important," she stated plainly, walking towards him. Her expression set with determination. "I … I like staying here, but I don't think I can if I don't have this," she waved the little check, lying her cards on the proverbial table. It felt a bit strange but freeing to say exactly what she wanted and needed without running internal checks about how it will affect the other person.

No, that's not entirely true, yet the thought rang true enough. She'd walked on eggshells around Oliver – and not because she was scared of him, but because she'd set for herself the goal of making him the best there was, and… That expectation ruined us both. Anyway. "I need you to take this," Laurel insisted, but her eyes pleaded.

Slade relaxed his stance. He surveyed her expression – there was determination that masked fragility. He wondered if she realized how much of a house of cards her strength was. He'd pulled her back into the world and now found himself tied to her. He couldn't deny her now. He reached out and plucked the check from her hands. "Well, then, I expect that these will be promptly delivered."

Laurel felt tension she hadn't realized she had leave her. "Oh, well, I'll deduct cost of new shirts from the next one," she recovered herself quickly and finally went for the coffee.

"I told you it wasn't my fault!" Slade protested with faux indignation.

"Those were expensive shirts, silk blend and all," she sipped her coffee and wagged her finger at him, "consider yourself warned."

"You wound me!" he cried, but a smile lifted the edges of his mouth. He pocketed Laurel's check as if it was something priceless.

IKYWT

"Thea, I love you," Laurel stated with absolute and steady certainty as she dropped in the chair opposite to Thea. She was wearing one of her professional style work dresses, but opposite to few weeks ago – she filled it out as a person, instead of as a hanger.

"And I love you too…" Thea laughed. "What's the issue?" She leaned back in her chair. The white porcelain plates in front of them were empty. They were yet to choose their lunch at this premium restaurant in Starling city.

Laurel slid a check across the table. She had had the notification of a wire transfer from Thea just earlier in the morning. "Because you don't have to love me with your money," Laurel said kindly. "I appreciate everything you did, and I'd like to give something back – and also in actual monetary value, because – ", and she raised her hand to stop Thea's protest, "Just because you can afford it, doesn't mean you have to pay for me. Do you see?"

"But…" Thea's lips scrunched in protest. "I wanted to do it, it's not like you asked me to do it," she just couldn't see the issue. She never really thought of money. "That's the difference, isn't it."

"Yes, you're right," Laurel replied, interrupting Thea's thoughts.

Happy to change the topic, Thea beamed, thinking she had won this.

"And on that exact point – you are not asking me to pay you back. I want to." And this was why Laurel had been a great lawyer.

Thea sagged, her expression the very picture of a point not taken graciously. She did not appreciate being defeated by her own argument. And she didn't know how to say it politely and was absolutely sure she should not say it, but… She was a billionaire's daughter. Laurel was a lawyer. Thea didn't need money. She bit her lip trying to figure the best way to go forward.

"Thea, with you running the Verdant, I'd think you have a better view of what the salaries currently are and the buying power they have," Laurel said a moment later as a peace offering.

"Exactly!" this was the thing Thea wanted to bring up but hadn't been sure how. She was almost sure this made her point for her.

"I am not poor, Thea," Laurel continued. "Yes, CNRI was not the best paying lawyer job, but I did work in San Francisco for a year, before I came here. And I worked and worked and worked and billed my overtime and bought my apartment when I moved here. That apartment - I just now sold it. For nearly triple the price, because the neighborhood's been gentrified since then," she smiled kindly. "I may be nowhere near your financial bracket, but I can afford things."

Thea sighed, agreeing, though she didn't want to. Come to think of it – money as such was not a topic often discussed in the Queen household.

"Come to think of it, though…" Laurel paused. "The neighborhood was just up and coming, but not yet on the beaten path when I moved there. And the apartment I also got on a special initiative to motivate people to move in. It was years later that I realized that the building had been developed by Merlyn Global," her smile carried sadness at the memory. As spring came to city, she thought more and more of Tommy.

"I never did ask Tommy if he had a hand in the whole thing." The initiative, the neighborhood development projects that changed the city landscape. Somehow, she'd always been sure that he had. He'd been almost gladder than her father when she finally moved back. "So, you see – I've already been more than lucky."

A small, sad smile settled on Thea's face too. Tommy had always been more Oliver's and Laurel's, but… He'd been like a cousin. Like a brother for a time. It took a moment to be able to speak past the memory of grief that suddenly gathered in her throat. "And he never said a thing?"

"No," Laurel shook her head gently. "He never did," she reiterated, and then remembering, "Not when he did a kindness."

Because Tommy had done a thousand good things in his life, but what he had wanted to be known for was the parties, not the anonymous donations to charities, to CNRI, not the fact that he and Oliver had paid out of their own pocket money for a lunch initiative at an inner-city high school for underprivileged students. Just because they met some students when Laurel dragged them to her volunteer study group where she tutored. "It's like he didn't want the world to see."

It made her think of Oliver.

Thea reached across the table to grasp her hand. They shared a moment of understanding that warmed both of their hearts until the intensity seemed too much and Thea rolled her eyes and said, "Fine, I'll take the check. And you can pay for lunch if you want to."

IKYWT

Laurel smiled as she left the restaurant. Thea had already gone – there was some event at Verdant in the evening and she had to oversee the setup. She was so proud of the woman Thea was growing into and it was too pleasant a feeling to chastise herself that maybe… She had no right to. Thea was great all on her own.

As she checked the time on her phone, she noticed another three missed calls from her mother. The pleasant feeling from lunch vanished. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk. She wasn't sure what she should say. She pushed the phone back into her purse.

Her mother had ignored her for five years. She could wait another week.