The sour prick of jealousy in the pit of his stomach was ridiculous, Oliver decided. Hal was his best friend, and Chloe was his friend, and they were entitled to spend the day together while he was stuck in Internal Audit meetings. Of course, they didn't have to rub it in his face either. He glared at the selfie on his phone. Hal grinned like a loon while Chloe's beam almost masked the paleness of her cheeks. That tired smile reminded him why he'd sent Hal there in the first place.

He knew she was curious and she would not resist the challenge. But when he'd gotten up this morning to realize she'd spent the whole night poking around Watchtower, not only studying the files he'd pointed her toward, but all of them—including the ones related to Byers and Salinas point— he knew he had to do something. So he'd called Hal to ask if he could check on her. And now, the two of them were watching orcas and dolphins jump through hoops at Star City aquatic park. While he was stuck with auditors explaining why it was important to cross every single T and dot every single I on every single form and do it thrice, because that was what the Quality System required.

Oliver grabbed his phone.

'If Hal buys you a stuffed starfish, it's better not end up on my bed'.

Here. That should do it.

The auditor had gone through half a slide before his phone buzzed. Oliver pushed to his feet. "My apologies, I have to take this. Please continue without me."

He exited the room without acknowledging Mark's smirk or the other VPs hard-nosed looks.

"Oliver Queen?"

"So it's okay if I have a dolphin?"

He nodded at some intern, fighting hard not to laugh and failing miserably. After almost a week with monosyllabic texts and "sorry busy" minute conversation, her voice felt like music to his ears. "No dolphin." No matter how silly their discussion was.

"A shark then."

"No shark."

"A turtle?"

Finally Oliver reached the safety of his office and closed the door. He loosened the knot of his tie and undid the button of his collar before he sank on the sofa. The conversation was bordering with ridiculous and he loved every minute. He sighed, falsely annoyed, "What is it with you and stuffed animals?"

"It's not me, it' Hal. It's not my fault if he buys me toys to entertain myself." Her stifled groan was enough to up the smirk on his face another notch. "Sorry. It sounded better in my head."

He visualized her palm pressed to her forehead all too well. "I wish I could see how red your cheeks are right now."

"I normally have a better grasp on words. It's your fault."

She meant he was flustering her on purpose—which he was, kind of. But most of lack of brain to mouth filter was probably the result her all-nighter. So yeah, definitely his fault. "Yeah, I guess it is. Any way I can make it up to you?"

The answer he received consisted in a muffled splash and children giggles somewhere in the background.

"I didn't hear you Oliver, what were you saying?"

Or you heard, and you're letting me down easy. Again. "Nothing that can't wait. I'll let you go back to whatever is causing all that racket."

Chloe squealed and laughed at the same time and it was all he could do not to march out of his office and declared he was taking the rest of the day off so he could go and play at a water park. "Hiiiii... Sorry, Oliver. I'll call you later? Is that okay?"

"Sure Sidekick. And tell Hal I say hi."

He shut down the call and fell back on the cushions, eyes closed. She had him wrapped around her little finger all right. Him, and the Green Arrow both.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know?"

"Actually, I always thought it was Schrödinger's fault for putting the cat in the box in the first place."

Oliver swallowed a chuckle. He'd connected his earpiece to the system so his end of the conversation ended up on the screen while he patrolled at the same time. At the moment, he was perched on the roof of an old Queen Industries factory near the docks.

"Point. So what do you think?"

"Your database is decent. It could use some improvement, so the system is not so slow when you run several data analyses at the same time, but I can work around it."

"Slow? You wound me, Sidekick."

"Don't call me that."

"Exclusive nickname?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

Pleasure bloomed in his chest, irrational and hot enough to scorch. He locked the feeling away to examine later.

"Very well. I granted you a full access. Do what you have to do. Watchtower is yours."

"Really?"

Her voice yipped, between a squeal and a gasp. The way into Chloe Sullivan's good graces apparently ran through tech and stuffed animals.

"I'm opened to suggestions when it comes to thank me."

Oliver was relieved she couldn't see his face at that moment. His smirk was so wide he feared it displaced the voice distorter.

"Classy, Arrow. Now do you want to hear about the diamonds or not?"

"I'm all ears."

For the next five minutes, he listened to her go over dates, names, and other pieces of information he was pretty sure were not in his database in the first place. The fact that she connected all of it in less than a day was blowing his mind. She was brilliant, beyond brilliant, she was…

"You're a genius."

"Not quite. I am just good at picking up clues. Hey what…"

"Tower?"

His pulse kicked up when she doesn't answer. Without a direct access to the system, he couldn't engage the comms what was happening around her. He'd refrain high-jacking her system completely last night, but he technically could if he wanted to.

"Tower? Do you copy?"

He stood from his perch of the edge of the roof, ready to swing back down to his bike and speed to her place. He knew from the start giving her Watchtower was a bad idea. Someone must have seen him the night before when he landed on her balcony. What if…

"Arrow, where are you right now?"

Shit, something was wrong.

"Corner of Emily and the fourth. Stay put, I'll be ther—"

"What? No! I'm fine. It's not me. An undercover cop got made out in the Glades. You're two blocks from his position. He could use the back-up."

"On it!"

He obeyed, because really, stopping robbers and petty crimes was what he did. And because having her barking orders in his ear while he swung from the roof of the old factory to the fire escape of the building nearby and parkour his way through the forsaken neighborhood made the whole vigilante thing even more fun.

During the next two hours, she guided him through a gun deal gone south and two assaults. He'd never worked with a guardian angel in his ear before. Maybe it was because it was Chloe, or maybe it just reflected how much of a team player he was, but he liked it. She directed him easily through the city, sorting through the dozen calls she saw on her screen and mapping his route as if she'd done that a thousand times before.

"Arrow, there's a hold-up near Star City Russian District. Based on what I see on camera, you have about six minutes to get there and get them.

"What camera?"

"Later, Arrow. Go, now!"

When he got there, he felt sick. He'd walked into that boutique once, looking for something original to give Barbara for her fifty birthday. A young couple owned the place. She learned how to cut gems from her father. They left Siberia when the major mines closed and he'd lost his job. Coming to the US was a desperate move, and they poured most of their savings in the jewelry store. He still wished they'd let him pay more for that broach. Barbara loved it.

"Two men, armed. There's no one inside."

"Copy that."

Oliver thought he heard Chloe tell him to be careful, but the rush of adrenaline muffled the sound. The lock of backdoor was broken. He glanced inside, saw two shadows smashing the glass displays. What he didn't understand was why they didn't forage inside for gold or jewels.

"The cops will be here in ten. Can you keep them here?"

"You bet I can."

The voice distorter made him sound even angrier than he felt. This was destruction for the sake of destruction. He could shoot an arrow and knock them out with gas. Whoever sent those thugs here might have them out of prison before they even got dragged before a judge. This had Bratva written all over it. If they wanted to send a message, he was going to send one back.

"Dobryy vecher. Busy night?"

Chloe groaned in his ear.

It took under a second for the first man to take a swing. Oliver ducked, plowed his crossbow into his forehead. The second ruffian behind him got kicked in the shin for his trouble. A double punch in the stomach, then Oliver had to face the first one again. His forehead was bloody, one eye closed. The other one screamed murder. He ducked left, punched the man in the ribs. It only seemed to enrage him more.

"Arrow—"

"Little busy here!"

Thug No. 2 was out for the count, but thug No. 1, aka Cyclops refused to back down.

"ETA two minutes. Get out of here now unless you want to tell the police what you are doing here."

"Got it, To—"

Cyclops used the distraction to plow him into one of the intact cases. His back protested. The case exploded in a mess of glass and metal. Oliver drove his joined hand over the man's nape once, twice, to no avail. The bull was determined to crush him, jabbing at his ribs and plexus. Oliver saw stars.

"Oliver, now!"

Out of solutions, he brought his knee up. And winced when the brute collapsed in a whimpering mess at his feet. He winced again when he extracted himself from the broken logs and shards. He'd be sore tomorrow. If he survived what was to come next. Chloe had called him by name.