Author's Notes: Yes, I am updating! My apologies for the delay ... Oliver and Slade were being difficult, but I compromised with them. So, in this chapter, we see a continuation of the encounter from the chapter previous … namely, a conversation between Oliver and Shado's spirit. As you can imagine, the lady has quite a lot to say. And in the second section, Slade talks to his father about a number of things, up to and including kissing Meg. Because of course he's as stunned by that development as she is. It is kind of a short chapter, but next chapter is when Oliver and Slade come face to face … so that kinda makes that the important chapter, right? Forward!

Chapter Five

Late Night Talks

Dory's Diner

Destine, Missouri

Approximately 10:30 pm

"Hello, Oliver."

The words reverberated in Oliver Queen's brain as he stared at the luminous young woman in front of him. It … it couldn't be. He tried desperately to remember what he'd eaten within the last twenty-four hours to make him hallucinate, because it had to be a hallucination. There weren't real ghosts (were there?), so the beautiful girl he saw had to be a hallucination. She smiled at him, the smile he remembered from the island before things fell apart so horribly, and said, "You're not imagining me, Oliver. I'm really here."

"You're a hallucination, of course you'd say that," he retorted, only vaguely aware of Dory moving away and speaking to William. Shado just smiled again, murmuring 'Thank you, grandmother' as Dory shifted backward. And of course, that was what ended up convincing him … or, at least, made it easier for him to believe. He found himself asking, "She's your grandmother?" Shado never really talked about her family, aside from her father. He hadn't even known that she had a sister. Actually, now that he thought about it, he knew more about Slade's family than about Shado's, and made a mental note to tease his brother about that.

"In a manner of speaking. In another life, she carried another name, and that woman was my grandmother," Shado answered. She was really here. She wasn't a hallucination, not a figment of his imagination. As if hearing what he was thinking, she added, "And I've been watching over you and Slade. I still love you both, and never once blamed you for my transition, Oliver. Never. It wasn't your fault, it was Ivo's, and only Ivo's. Not yours. Not Sara's. There were so many times when I tried to reach Slade, but those damnable hallucinations …"

She shook her head, looking away. Oliver could only stare at her in shock. In a distant part of his mind, he was glad she mentioned that Dory was her grandmother first. He might have imagined Shado telling him that she forgave him, that there was nothing to forgive … but he had no reason to imagine the first. Shado went on, "I've always watched over you both, always wept for you both. I was there when you were forced to work for Waller, and when Slade learned you were alive. I was there when you faced off in Starling City, and when you became brothers once more on Lian Yu. And you … you are far more ready to see me than he is."

Oliver nodded … no, the third member of their group was in no way ready to see the real Shado again. He said quietly, "There … sometimes I wonder if you'd still be here, if you'd chosen Slade." Shado merely smiled at him with an affectionate exasperation, the way she had on the island when he said something she regarded as particularly silly. And the memory cascade that unleashed threatened to take his breath away. He whispered, "I have missed you both … so much, Shado."

"We're here now, Oliver. There is. Dory is currently plying your son with ice cream, so I'll go ahead and tell you. A few weeks ago, Rebecca … Rebecca Merlyn … her soul was pulled out of the afterlife, and stuffed into the body of a woman who temporarily died after being badly injured. That isn't supposed to be possible. But Rebecca walks and breathes once more … and Tommy has begun manifesting himself in the world of the living as well. Yes, he's here … no, he's not ready to see you yet. He's still too ashamed of how he behaved before he died. But I wanted you to know about Rebecca, because she's in the town where you're staying. And I think you know who she is now."

How on earth would he know who Aunt Rebecca was now, when the only people he'd met here in Starling were Dory and … ? Oliver's mind stuttered to a stop as he thought again about the woman who accompanied Dory to the airport, the woman whom he noticed staring at him with such longing. With a lump in his throat, he asked, "That woman with Dory, the one she had to drop off at her hotel because she was so uncomfortable with people … that was Aunt Rebecca?" Veronica, his mind supplied a moment later, and Shado inclined her head.

Aunt Rebecca was back. In another woman's body, but based on what he'd seen for himself and Shado's words, she'd never stopped watching over him, watching over them all. He tried not to think how many times her heart was broken while she was watching over them. A moment after that, Oliver remembered something else Shado said and asked, "Wait … if Tommy has the ability to manifest himself, and he's not ready to come to me … then …?" He wasn't entirely sure what he was asking, but as she often did, Shado figured it out.

A small, teasing smile touched her lips as she replied, "He's been appearing to someone in Vienna, Austria." Vienna … Austria? Why? Shado's grin broadened as she explained, "Joe Wilson is being punished for being a jackass, among other things, by cleaning up the crypt under St. Stephen in Vienna. Tommy has been tormenting him by flickering into existence and then disappearing. I think he eventually plans to actually speak to him, but not yet." Oliver felt his brows arching and Shado further observed, "So far as Tommy is concerned, Joe is an ungrateful jackass and Tommy would switch fathers with him in a heartbeat, even if Slade is too young to be Tommy's father."

Oliver … couldn't argue with that. Shado seemed to agree, saying, "Slade may worry that he'll mess things up with Grant, but Tommy sees that he's trying, sees that he tried with Joe … and that means everything to him. If I could eat, I'd be investing in popcorn for when Tommy can interact with Joe." That surprised a huff of laughter from Oliver, who found himself imagining how that particular meeting would go.

"I think I'd want popcorn for that, too," he admitted, biting back a laugh … the last thing he wanted was for William to hear him laughing and come to investigate. Whether William saw him talking to empty air or to a ghostly young woman, there were some conversations he just wasn't ready to have with his son. And he did need to get back to his son. But before he did, there was one last thing he needed to say this woman who taught him so much, who gave him so much. Even if he'd said it already. But Shado was already shaking her head, because of course she knew what he was thinking.

"No, Oliver … don't apologize. I'm at peace … something I want for both you and Slade, sometime before you join me. And you will join me, both of you … I won't accept anything less," Shado told him. Oliver raised his eyebrows. Peace? Slade? Had she met their gruff third? Shado rolled her eyes and waved her hand at him, as if to swat him, and added, "Oh, hush, you! You might not have said anything, but you were thinking it. Go back to your son. Tomorrow, you'll meet up with Slade and Grant." And to be honest, Oliver wasn't sure if he was ready for that. But … he would be.

DSDSDSDSDS

Home of Meg Carvalho

Approximately the same time

"I wasn't expecting to find you here. It's late … then again, early nights became a thing of the past the moment you joined ASIS, I suppose … and then again when you became a parent for the first time."

His father's voice drew Slade's attention away from what he was doing … namely taking apart and cleaning his gun. Restlessness drove him upstairs once Grant was asleep. His little boy was growing up and needed his rest … but Slade needed something else. This was the something else he chose. It was, in some ways, a form of meditation for him, something for his hands to do while he tried to work something out mentally. Right now, that something was kissing Meg. It was something he hadn't done in such a long time, even if it was as simple as a kiss to her forehead. And judging from her expression, it startled her just as much as it startled him. Slade didn't do kisses, he didn't do romance … he could have said he didn't do attachments, but his past with Oliver and his sons proved that to be a lie.

And so, he sat here in Meg's living room, eyeing the piano where her husband used to play lullabies for Angel as Meg walked the floor with their daughter in her arms, trying to figure out what the hell was happening to him. He'd only known Meg for a few months (and how long had he known Oliver when he sacrificed his way off Lian Yu to rescue the trouble-prone young man?), and yet …

His father continued when Slade didn't answer, "You know, Bastiaan has always told me that a man who cleans his gun on a daily basis, even when he's not firing it, is not just safety-conscious … but he also has a lot on his mind. Do you want to talk about it, son?" Slade snorted under his breath … really? Since when did they talk about anything? He'd hoped that when he ignored his father, the elder man would take the hint and return to the loft. He didn't.

Instead, his father took the seat that Angel favored, murmuring, "When Bastiaan asked me to accompany him here, I was expecting only to meet his daughter. He's told me so much about her over the years. I wondered sometimes if he realized how contradictory he was about her … on the one hand, he often bragged about her accomplishments. On the other hand, he was sure that he was the only one in the family who was an adrenaline junkie."

That surprised a laugh out of Slade, who answered, "Meg isn't an adrenaline junkie … she just still has a streak of idealism, still has a desire to save the world. And after the three of us were taken captive by Grant's doppelganger from the future, she asked me to teach her and Angel to protect themselves." For the first time, Slade looked up from what he was doing, his eye focusing on his father as he added, "She never wants to be that helpless again." Obviously remembering Meg surging to her feet with the paperweight in her hands, Gideon Wilson smiled. Slade made a final inspection of his gun before he began re-assembling it, asking, "What brings you down here?"

"You still haven't answered my question, lad … you answer my question and I'll answer yours. What's troubling you?" his father answered. Slade sighed, his hands stilling. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how to put into words what he was thinking. He wasn't even sure he could put into words what he was feeling, much less his feelings toward Meg. But if his father was going to play this game, then Slade would have to at least make the attempt. Even if he would rather face off with Fyars, Wintergreen, and Ivo at the same time than have this conversation.

After finishing the reassembling of his gun, Slade sat back and answered bluntly, "I kissed Meg tonight." His father's eyes widened, and Slade went on, "It was on her forehead, when we said good-night … but I kissed her." His father gave a low whistle, and Slade sat back, sighing, "I've known her three months, Father. I don't know where that came from, and I have no idea where it's going, if it's going anywhere, or how Meg will react when I see her in the morning." In truth, that final item was what concerned him most … how would Meg react in the morning? Gideon Wilson was silent for several moments.

At last, he observed, "I could tell you that Meg seems to be a level-headed young woman … Bastiaan has said that about her often enough. He tells me that she's his level-headed, sensible daughter. I'm not entirely sure I believe that, but I only just met her today. But … I think I'll ask a question instead?" Slade raised his head to look at his father, who continued, "Why does this make you so uncomfortable? Why is it such an issue, kissing Meg?" Before Slade could answer, his father added, "What is your worst case scenario?"

"Getting Meg or Angel killed," was Slade's immediate, and blunt, answer. His father blinked a bit, and Slade continued, "Whether because of things I did while I was under the Mirukuru or one of my missions, by virtue of knowing me, they're both in danger. But leaving puts them in even greater danger." He'd realized that whilst dealing with his younger son's potential future doppelganger. If he'd left … no. No, he'd stayed and as long as he was in town (which was for the foreseeable future), he would protect Meg and Angel.

"All right, lad, I see your point. Then tell me, what's your best case scenario?" was the next question. Slade just smirked a bit, because was there a best case scenario? He couldn't see any. His father sighed, asking next, "All right then … what if she feels the same way you do? Then what?" Ahh, that brought problems of its own. Then again, Slade was becoming accustomed to that feeling.

"I don't know, because I don't know how I feel. I like her, I care about her, I'd slot anyone who tried to hurt her, but beyond that? I don't know. Besides, as I said, I've only known her for a few months," he answered. And that was the whole thing, wasn't it? (He ignored the voice in the back of his head which murmured that he'd known Oliver even less time when he started risking his life for the kid. That wasn't the point. Except it was).

"All true … but you're forgetting one thing, son," his father observed. Slade arched an eyebrow over his eyepatch. Oh, he couldn't wait to hear this. The older man went on, "You've lived with her for those few months. I'm willing to bet that at this point, you know her better than you did Adeline at the same stage. You know how she likes her coffee, how to calm her when she's upset, what her defensive weakness is …"

"She prefers mocha or cappuccino to regular coffee, letting her rant usually works best until she's worn herself out, and she becomes distracted by her worry for Angel," Slade answered automatically, then glowered at his father, who was smirking at him. He would have accused his father of setting him up, but knew he'd prove the other's point. Slade grumbled, "I still don't know …"

"But you do. You said it yourself, Slade, you care for the girl. I'm not saying either of you are ready for a relationship, but I also don't think this has to be a catastrophe. As long as you accept that she's not like Adeline, that she's had a far different life, there's nothing to worry about," was the response. There was a brief silence, then his father added gently, "I've seen the way she looks at you, Slade. She cares for you as much as you care for her. That's not a bad thing. I understand that you're worried she might get hurt when an old enemy comes calling, but I submit, my boy, that she's far more capable than either of us realize. I remember how she held that paperweight when I startled you both awake, and her form was excellent. Even learning defense at her age, she could be quite lethal."

Slade thought back to that rather unpleasant awakening, remembered his glance to the side to make sure Meg was okay, and seeing the way she held herself, the way the paperweight was gripped in her hand, and had to admit that his father was right. The other man went on, "I know you're not ready. Neither is she. But I also think that fretting over a gentle kiss good night to her forehead … I don't think that's a ready to worry. It may have startled her, but I don't think she'll be upset."

All true, but Slade would put aside his concerns about that until the morning. Maybe after the first cup of coffee. Instead, he focused on his father, saying, "I told you what was on my mind … turnabout is fair play, as Angel likes to tell me." A grimace from the other man told me that his father hoped he'd forgotten about that. Not a chance. If Slade was going to have to suffer through a conversation about what was bothering him, so was his father.

"If you absolutely must know, Bastiaan snores," his father answered, surprising a laugh out of Slade. Meg's father … snored. All right, he could buy that. Meg didn't snore so much as talk, as he'd learned whilst sleeping in the dressing room. Often talked, occasionally whimpered, but if she snored, it was so softly, it didn't disturb him. He'd had bunkmates who snored so loudly (when they weren't breaking wind in their sleep, which was noxious as well as annoying), he'd been tempted to shoot them. Sorely, sorely tempted.

Thinking of that, he asked, "Was this the first time you've roomed with someone who snored? Or worse?" The Look his father gave him in response left Slade snickering. So did the other man's grumblings. Slade double-checked his gun before sliding it back into its holster inside his boot and sat back on the sofa, folding his arms over his chest as he regarded his father with no small amount of amusement. Not the conversation he envisioned having with his father (then again, he never really thought about having a conversation with his father during the last few decades).

"Not funny, Slade Joseph, not funny at all," his father continued to grumble. Slade's smirk turned into a grin. He thought it was hilarious. At last, his father sighed, "Fine. Usually, when we both sleep on a plane, the angle of his head prevents the snoring. Lying flat? That angle isn't there, and he's bloody well keeping me awake. None of my usual tricks are working, and I wasn't sure how our lovely hostess would react to me turning on the water in the bathroom."

"If you're worried about her water bill, don't be … she might be more annoyed with wet linen, though. It's difficult to get that smell out, after all," Slade answered, still grinning. He pulled back as his father swiped at his head, adding, "If you like, you can sleep on the sofa. Just be aware, Meg is up early nearly every morning." This was said as he rose to his feet, exhaustion once more creeping up on him. It was time to go to bed, and hopefully, he was quiet enough when he came upstairs that he didn't wake Grant.

His father snorted in response, answering, "In case you hadn't missed it, lad, I sleep only a few hours at night. But, I think I will stay here. I learned during my years in the business that you can learn a lot about a person from their living room. Sleep well, son." Slade nodded and padded through the kitchen to the door to the basement. Even with his conversation with his father, he still had a lot to consider. But he would do that in the morning.

Except … the universe had a surprise coming for him that morning, and it would be sometime before he could discuss that kiss.

TBC