Oliver observed the scene comfortably installed at the terrace of the café, a Efes Pilsen beer in hand.

Chloe seemed to have the time of her life haggling for whatever she wanted to buy. Based on the happy tilt of her opponent's head, so was the merchant. Oliver had no clue what had caught her eye. The shop seemed to sell everything, from postcards to leather slippers to cutlery, including sweets, fabrics and CDs.

Oliver took a pull of his beer while he surveyed their surroundings. The warm evening had drawn a vivid crowd to the area, so the cafes and shops buzzed with life. It reminded him of the beach walk in Star City. For a minute, Oliver felt a little homesick. How long was it since he'd set foot in California? Three, four months? He'd made Metropolis his home for more than one reasons—one of them bouncing with her hands fluttering around her across the street— but on balmy, fragrant nights like this, he missed his hometown.

With a sigh, Oliver let his gaze drifted back to his blonde sidekick. He should take her there before heading back to Kansas, he mused, so she could see the view from his apartment on the top of Queen Tower. She'd love to wander in the parks and flower shops of the Garden District. Maybe he'd manage to convince her to visit the Oktober district for a real date this time. They'd explore the alleys of the covered market, discover new restaurants and galleries. Or he would finally reserve the Queen lodge for himself, and take her to see a play at the Pleiades Hall. He finished his drink and signaled for another.

Chloe was still talking, but her hands had grown still before her and her head shook left and right while the shop owner loomed close to her.

His empty glass clang on the table.

"Relax, she's fine. He's probably just asking if something else caught her eye or if she wants him to deliver the purchases to her hotel. It's the custom here."

"Your friend is right, Effendi. Your wife is perfectly safe with Selim."

Oliver stood nonetheless to face Carter. The archeologist was talking in rapid Turkish to their hostess, not looking at him, so Oliver went back to his silent vigil.

"Anything you don't eat, Archer?"

Damned it. A little discretion if you please? At least there seemed to be the only foreigners in the small restaurant, which was why Oliver had chosen it in the first place. Hopefully people spoke very little English, or would just assume it was a nickname.

"I'm allergic to peanuts."

Carter rattled some more then the woman left with a quick bow of her head. Chloe was pointing at a glass case while Selim grinned like a lovesick fool. He knew the feeling.

"What is she buying?"

Oliver took back his seat. "You know what? I have absolutely no idea. She banished me here about two minutes after we entered the place. She claimed I was hindering her bargaining. I guess she was right, he's eating out of her hand like a lamb."

"Discussing the price is expected. It is seen as a proof of respect and trust, as much as a battle of wits. The seller respects his customer for knowing the real value of his merchandise. The buyer trusts the merchant to be honest about it." Carter gave a wry smile. "Or as honest as can be."

Oliver tilted his refilled glass toward the older man in salute. "Well apparently Chloe had a knack for it. I suppose it helps when you can flirt with the owner to your heart content," he added sullenly.

"Jealous?"

There was no point denying it. Besides he'd decided somewhere between his first and second glass that honesty might work better than being a wmartass tonight.

"Some. Off kilter and anxious, too. Chloe's confused. And she's scared though she'll never admit it out loud."

"You won't hurt her."

Oliver swallowed more beer. "I think that's the nicest thing you told me since we met. If you're not careful, I'm going to think you like me."

Carter rolled his eyes and emptied half of his own drink in one long gulp.

Oliver shrugged. "I understand where she comes from, in a way. Three days ago we were casual friends and coworkers. Now we're supposed to be soulmates. It's a step."

"A huge step. Hi Carter."

Chloe smiled softly at the archeologist as her hand brushed over Oliver's shoulder in a brief caress that sent shivers carousing along his spine.

"Hello Nedjem. You seem pretty pleased with yourself."

Her proud beam got lost in the arousal her fingers skimming down his back shot through him. Slow was becoming a problem. Fast. Oliver refrained a groan.

"The food will be shortly, Effendi. Can I bring you something else? Is your wife ready to order?"

Chloe's claws retracted from his hip as she gave their hostess a pleasant smile. "Some local wine, if you have?"

"And another round," Carter pointed at their empty glasses.

The woman nodded and left. Oliver peered into the bags she'd brought with her. "What did you buy?"

"Silk scarves. One for me and since Lois is trying her hand at belly dancing, I took a hip scarf for her as well."

Inappropriate images of Chloe's gyrating her hips flashed through his helpless brain. Oliver shifted on her seat to rearrange himself in his pants.

"—For Tess. He threw them in for free, actually… Are you listening to me, Oliver?"

Oliver glanced up from the delicious curve of her neck, where her own chandelier earrings danced. "Of course. The man enjoyed your little spat so much he didn't charge you for the silver."

Here. Rescued by years of daydreaming through board meetings and dull events. Chloe pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced by the save. She deliberately turned to Carter. The full view of her swan neck tickled by golden blonde hair just made it worse.

"How was your day, Carter?"

The twinkle in Carter's blue-green eyes increased. Great. "Hot. How was yours?"

Oliver imagined the smirk on her face when she replied. "Wet."

She was trying to kill him. There was no other explanation. She just loved tormenting him. And she was extremely good at it too.

Oliver leaned sideways to murmur in her ear. "It's not nice to tease, Sidekick. I might retaliate later."

She had the decency to blush. Not that the beguiling color was anything better, but now they were both thinking about it. He'd take what he could get. Oliver cocked his head at Carter.

"Can we talk here? Or…"

"Yes. Unless you see a rat or a raven. In that case, shoot to kill."

Chloe's gaze flew to the closest rooftop in alarm. Oliver started to laugh. "He's joking, Chlo." Then he thought better of it. "You are, aren't you?"

Carter grinned slowly. Chloe scowled. "Your sense of humor needs work."

The archeologist lifted an eyebrow. Oliver jerked a shoulder. "We've seen it before."

"Mind-controlled pests?"

"It was bees, actually," Chloe countered. "Can we stay on topic please?"

The arrival of the food interrupted the standoff. Oliver peered at the plates with interest.

"Turkish food is not exceptionally spicy. They rely mostly on fresh products for flavors. This is Kisir," Carter pointed at a colorful salad of wheat, tomatoes and herbs then at several meat dishes. "vine leaves, kofte. Your typical choice of roasted meat: Cag Kebab, Testi Kebab. Gozleme is a pastry filled with cheese and spinash, and of course, rice."

Oliver prepared a plate for Chloe with a bit of everything, then filled his with the stew of beef and vegetables Carter had called a guveç. Hot pepper instantly coated his tongue in heat. The burn receded within seconds, leaving flavor behind. He savored a zest of paprika, the sharp tongue of green chiles, and sweet tomatoes. Chloe's soft whimper told him she, too, was enjoying the discovery. More cautious this time, he blew on this next bite to ward off the worst of the heat.

"It was delicious."

"They have good cooks here. It's a shame you have an allergy, their baklavas are divine."

Oliver washed down his mouthful with a gulp of beer. He was starting to feel pleasantly buzzed, and sated. It made the occasional brushing of Chloe's knee against his thigh almost bearable. "You should order some for you and Chloe, we're in the open and it's airy so I won't make a reaction to the smell. It's fine."

Kissing her was not on the menu for the next few hours anyway.

The petite blonde shook her head. "There's so much food already, I'll be full way before desert."

Or maybe it was…

Carter mopped up the last of his plate with bread.

"All right then, ask your questions."

"Is Savage immortal?"

Oliver leaned back in his seat. He'd expected her to ask about Hawkman's work with the museum or the curse first, leave the heavy stuff for later. Trust Watchtower to go straight to the jugular.

"Yes, and no. He is able to regenerate when he's wounded with a normal weapon. But he can be killed."

"With an anormal weapon. Such as…?" Oliver asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He couldn't help it. The flair for dramatics was getting old after a while.

"The dagger of Amon-Re is the only thing that will kill him for good."

Chloe pulled her phone from her purse and typed quickly. She frowned, clearly unhappy with the results. "Try King Tut's dagger."

She did. "Tutankhamun's meteoritic dagger is an iron-bladed dagger which blade is believed to be of meteoritic origin. The dagger is currently displayed in Cairo."

Oliver muttered under his breath. "If you tell me it was orchestrated from Krypton by Clark's great great grand-father, I won't even be surprised."

Chloe elbowed him. "Is that the weapon that can kill him?"

"Not that one, no, but one similar and much, much older."

"Egyptian didn't learn to melt Iron until the sixth century before Christ."

Carter gave another of his mysterious smiles. "Maybe. Maybe not. The royal blacksmiths spent three days and three nights feeding the fire pit in the temple of Amon to melt the nth metal."

"Nth metal?"

"That's what Shayera decided to call it. It's unlike any metal you've ever seen. It's stronger than steel, but lighter than a feather so anything casted in it can float. It doesn't gleam but it won't tarnish."

"Your costume is made of it."

Carter bowed his head in salute. "You are your mother's daughter, Chloe."

"And that dagger, where is it now?" Oliver asked.

The archeologist's jaw clenched. "I don't know. But I'll find it. And when I do…"

Oliver knew that look. He'd seen the same fever in his own eyes the day he'd learnt Lionel had had his parents killed. Revenge. All consuming and fathomless. He'd tried to drown it in booze, drugs and women. Carter Hall had embraced the fire and stoked it for millennia.

Then he saw it, clear as day.

"He's here because you are, not the other way around."

Chloe stared at him in wonder. Oliver covered her hand with his. "Think about it Sidekick. It's always the same plot. The villain let the hero ploughs through the hard work, and raids the spoils. Savage knows you lust for vengeance. He wants the dagger to, if only to protect himself. So he keeps tabs on you. Learn what you know, sometimes undermines your efforts for the fun of it, and sometimes needles you on. Then when he grows tired of the game, he sizes the first opportunity to get rid of you, and the clock resets."

Chloe's delicate fingers entwined with his. Her hand was trembling. Oliver ran his thumb across her knuckles in reassurance. Carter said nothing for a while, watching the shops closing for the night across the streets.

"You're right. And that's why you have to take her away from here before he realizes who she is."

"Why? Carter, I need to know. Why am I so important?"