Did New York City ever not have traffic?

It was barely 6:30 in the morning and still the ride from JFK to downtown was taking forever. Oliver glanced at Diggle seated next to him in the back of the cab and couldn't understand how the man was able to stay so calm. Normally he valued Digg's presence of mind, but at the moment it was downright irritating. They had nothing but the word of some guy named Vincent - a man Oliver had never met and Diggle hadn't seen in ten years - that Felicity was all right. More than twelve hours (twelve hours!) had elapsed since someone had drugged her and tried to kidnap her. He and Digg had flown across the entire country to ensure her safety only to get stuck in this fucking tangle of cars for the final twenty miles. It was enough to make Oliver want to put his fist through the window. And Diggle, the very same Diggle who had ripped him a new one for putting Felicity in danger with Slade a few weeks ago, was making small talk with the cabdriver about the local football team as if it were any other day.

When at last they reached Manhattan, the drive only got worse. The sunrise commute was beginning to kick in and they had to sit through one and sometimes two cycles at each traffic light before they could progress. Oliver watched the morning bike messengers weave nimbly in and out of the cars, covering entire blocks while he and Digg were stuck in the stationary cab. He fought the urge to swing the car door into one of the cyclists and steal the bike. Maybe they were close enough to Digg's friend's place to walk – it had to be faster than this.

"Excuse me," he abruptly cut into Digg's unnecessary conversation with the cabbie about the Giant's chances of getting to the Super Bowl, "but how much farther?"

Digg looked at him and raised his eyebrows. The expression clearly said: What the hell, Oliver?

The driver glanced at his GPS. "About ten blocks."

Ten blocks. Not bad. "Let us out here," he ordered, "we can walk the rest of the way."

"Oliver…" Digg began.

Oliver wasn't in the mood. "Digg, we're not moving." He gestured out the window at the cars all around them. "We can get there faster on foot. Let's go." He grabbed his small duffle off the floor of the cab and reached for the door handle.

Diggle didn't budge. Whether it was because of or in spite of his years in the army, Oliver sometimes found Digg reluctant to follow commands. The man could be stubborn, annoyingly confident in his own perception of a situation. This looked like it was shaping up to be one of those times. Digg stared at him and shook his head. "As I was about to say, Oliver," he continued with exaggerated patience, "it's only7:00 in the morning. There's a chance everyone's still asleep – that she's still asleep. It wouldn't hurt if it took us another half hour to get there."

Oliver frowned, "If Felicity's still asleep when we get there, we won't wake her. If your army buddy's protecting her like you say he is, then he should be awake. She was drugged – someone should have kept watch during the night." He knew he was beginning to glare at Digg, but he just couldn't help himself. Felicity wasn't some casual guest – she was staying with this army doctor guy because she'd been given an unknown substance. "You told me he could take care of her. That's what taking care of her means – keeping watch over her, not sleeping."

Diggle opened his mouth and then closed it, clearly biting back some kind of reply. Even without hearing the words, Oliver had a pretty good idea of what Digg had been going to say because Oliver had said the same things to himself over the last few weeks. Digg would say that Oliver had no right to preach about protecting Felicity when he had set her up to be taken by Slade Wilson in order to get the Mirakuru cure into that homicidal lunatic. Digg would say that Oliver had put the wellbeing of his city above the safety of a partner he was currently professing to be so concerned about. He would say that Oliver had taken advantage of Felicity's tendency to be too brave for her own good and, without consulting anyone, had endangered her beyond all measure. Digg would say that Oliver was a hypocrite. Digg would say…a lot of things, apparently, for a man who was sitting there with his mouth shut. Oliver made himself stop this line of thinking. Whatever Digg might think, the situation with Slade Wilson wasn't the same as this one now. They had been at war, and in war you had to do desperate things. Digg, of all people, should understand that. If Oliver had the chance to go back and change his actions, he wasn't sure he would do anything differently because, after all, they had succeeded and Felicity had survived. This time…this time Felicity had gone off and found trouble all on her own, independent of Oliver.

He looked up to find Diggle watching him closely with an unreadable expression. Felicity had once joked that Digg could see into thoughts the same way Superman could see through concrete, and Oliver wondered whether Digg had picked up on any of his internal dialog. He decided he didn't want to know, and it was better to get back to the matter at hand – they were wasting time. "Look, I realize it's early," he said firmly, "but I'm sure they'll understand that we're concerned about a friend." He tried a different tack, "And I don't think I can take sitting any longer. I need to do something. Let's walk."

When Digg sighed and shrugged but didn't argue, Oliver opened the door of the cab and stepped out into the street. Digg gave the cabbie an apologetic smile, paid the fare, and then followed.

Oliver was forced to rethink his they'll understand theory when, fifteen minutes later, they knocked on a door and it was answered by a man who looked as though he had just rolled out of bed and didn't appreciate the early visit. He was barefoot, wearing sweatpants and a rumpled tee shirt, and his dark hair stuck out untidily in several directions. He scowled and opened his mouth as if he were about to complain, but then stopped when he saw the two men standing on his doorstep.

"Digg?" The scowl began to transform itself into smile.

"Keller?" A similar smile was forming on Digg's face.

The two men stared at each other with mutual looks of disbelief and joy.

Keller spoke first, "You haven't changed at all, Digg. You look great - fit enough to still be in the service. I can't believe you're standing here."

Digg laughed, "Thanks. And you look pretty damn good for a guy who was killed in action."

"I do, don't I?"

They hugged in a brotherly way, chuckling and slapping each other on the back.

Oliver studied the man. So this was Digg's army buddy, Vincent Keller – the doctor who was taking care of Felicity. Given that Digg had said they had served together a decade ago, Oliver had been expecting to see someone a little more civilian looking, a little less fit. Of course, Digg had stayed in fighting shape, but he worked in security. Keller was a doctor. Oliver had imagined a man well into his thirties who spent his days in a hospital and his evenings at home with his wife – a weekend warrior with a receding hairline who passed an hour at the gym three nights a week and was still developing a small paunch as he left his years in the service behind.

The guy in front of him was physical specimen; he had broad shoulders narrowing down to a flat stomach, and biceps that suggested hours of concentration curls with heavy weights. He also had a full head of hair and a face that Oliver was sure many women would find attractive. He looked as good as…as…Oliver - and not very much older. Oliver didn't know if Keller had ever heard of a salmon ladder, but he had a feeling that climbing one wouldn't pose much of a challenge. Oh – and Oliver also noticed that his left hand appeared entirely free of a wedding ring. He wondered whether Felicity had noticed all the same things when she had regained consciousness. Had she first opened her eyes to find this man carrying her in those arms?

Digg stepped back out of the hug with his pal but continued grinning widely, "Oliver, meet Vincent Keller, the army buddy I told you about." Keller turned toward Oliver and nodded. He appeared curious and maybe even a little amused. Oliver wondered if he was recalling any of Oliver's well-publicized, pre-island antics. It wouldn't be the first time. "Vincent," Digg continued, "Meet Oliver Queen. You two have something in common – you both came back from the dead."

Keller laughed, "I hope your resurrection was less painful than mine, Mr. Queen." He extended his hand.

Oliver took it and gripped a little harder than was necessary. "I wouldn't bet on it, Dr. Keller," he replied evenly. When Keller glanced speculatively at their clasped hands Oliver amended in a more friendly tone, "And please, call me Oliver."

"Will do, Oliver. And you can call me Vincent."

"Is Felicity awake?" Oliver hadn't meant to jump to the question right away, but then he also had to know.

And there it was again, that twinkle of fun in Keller's eyes. Keller glanced briefly toward Diggle before replying to Oliver, "She is. We couldn't help noticing yesterday that you seemed very anxious to get in touch with her. We thought about answering her phone and explaining what was going on, but Digg told us he'd take care of it." So Keller's amusement stemmed from Oliver's attempts to call Felicity, not his reputation? He hadn't called that many times. "I hope that she isn't in any trouble back in Starling," Keller continued. "You're very…" he paused as he searched for a word, "devoted… to your employees, Oliver - or your former employees. I think Felicity said she used to be your executive assistant?" His voice became more sober, "Anyway, whatever you need, please go easy on her. She had a very tough day."

Felicity had discussed him with Keller? They'd only known each other for twelve hours and she had been unconscious for a good part of that time. That seemed like a pretty fast move from receiving medical attention to sharing personal details. And had she really just described him as her boss…correction, ex-boss, who would certainly appear as something of an ass for calling so frequently? Sure, she couldn't talk about Arrow business, but couldn't she have found a description that was a little less impersonal and a little more flattering? And who the hell was Vincent Keller to be telling him how he should act with Felicity anyway?

Oliver cleared his throat. "Actually, I consider Felicity a friend," he said, trying not to sound defensive. "And she's not in trouble. I was just concerned about her. I still am."

He was hoping that would be enough of a hint for Keller to bring them back to see her. It was the obvious next step. However, the man didn't move and the three of them stood there awkwardly, with Digg doing nothing to help. There was no sign of it on his face, but Oliver could swear Diggle was enjoying his discomfort. These days, Digg always seemed to making some kind of point about Felicity.

Exasperated at having to spell it out, he said, "Can I – we – see her…now?" He intended to make it sound like a question and not a demand, but didn't entirely succeed.

Keller glanced toward Diggle as if seeking permission, furthering Oliver's frustration. Only when Digg gave a small nod did Keller reply, "Of course, come on back. She's at the computer with J.T. right now. She ran some searches last night and they're looking at photos to see if they can ID the guys who tried to grab her."

J.T.? Digg hadn't mentioned a J.T. Who the fuck was J.T.? And why did Keller seem comfortable with investigating the abduction attempt themselves instead of turning the case over to the police? He was a doctor – kidnappings shouldn't exactly be in his wheelhouse. Not that Oliver minded the proactive approach, but it seemed a little…Arrow-like.

Vincent led them down a short hallway and they emerged into a large room with a high ceiling. Oliver spotted her immediately and let out his breath – Felicity looked alert, healthy and entirely herself in front of computer. Well, not entirely herself, Oliver corrected. This was definitely a look he hadn't seen on Felicity before.

And after two years he thought he'd seen them all – professional, evening formal, hiking around on Lian Yu, disheveled and bloody in the face of near-apocalypse – but evidently he'd missed out on just tumbled out of bed. Because he would certainly have remembered if he'd seen her like this. She looked incredibly young, her face free of makeup and her full lips a little pale. Her hair was tousled and loose over her shoulders and she was wearing…what was she wearing?...a man's tee shirt, apparently, and nothing but a man's tee shirt. The shirt rode up to mid-thigh as she sat in the chair, revealing her toned legs and brightly painted toes. Totally focused on her task, she was a curious mixture of innocence and sexiness. Oliver realized that for all their time together, there were certain boundaries he and Felicity had never crossed. Seeing her first thing in the morning, before she had put on whatever she needed to face the world, was one of them.

And J.T.? J.T. turned out to be another guy…not a bad looking guy, but not exactly in Vincent's league. J.T., in fact, seemed very much the kind of guy Oliver had always imagined Felicity might end up with. He wore glasses and had a bookish air about him – Oliver guessed that he loved technology, too. Like Vincent, he wasn't dressed for the day; he was still wearing flannel sleep pants, with bare feet and bed-hair. For having just met, the three of them seemed cozy and comfortable with each other. If Oliver hadn't known better, it would be easy to believe that they were long-time roommates hanging around in their PJ's on a lazy morning.

Felicity and J.T. had their heads close together as they stared at the photos on the computer monitor. Neither had seen him come in; they were too engrossed.

"Felicity?"

At the sound of his voice, she jumped in her chair. "Oliver!" She turned to look at him and her eyes lit up the same way they did when he returned to the foundry from a particularly tricky mission. For a second he thought she might get up to hug him, but then she settled back in her seat and the hopeful expression on her face became more measured. He felt a small pang of disappointment. She looked past him and said, "Digg," in a relieved tone.

"Hey Felicity," Diggle walked over to her chair and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. It was the type of gesture Oliver used to make before the whole Slade/I love you thing. "How are you feeling?" The words were mundane, but his tone spoke volumes about his concern.

She smiled up at him, "I'm okay, Digg. Vincent's been taking good care of me." She flashed a grateful look at the tall, dark-haired man and Keller smiled back warmly. Oliver felt a little annoyed, although for the life of him he wasn't sure why. The fact that she was in capable hands should be good news.

Digg grinned, ruffling her already wild hair. "He's a good doctor - I hope you're being a cooperative patient," he teased. "In fact, I thought maybe you'd still be resting. I told Oliver we should give you a little more time to wake up and get dressed, but he wouldn't listen. Insisted we come here straight from the airport. We haven't even had coffee yet."

Felicity laughed, "Well, J.T. made a big pot of coffee, so we can help out there. As for getting dressed, I have nothing to put on at the moment – my clothes are still at the hotel. Tess and Catherine are picking them up, along with breakfast."

Tess and Catherine - two more names for Oliver to process. At least they were female names. He wondered whether Felicity was as comfortable with the women as she appeared to be with J.T. and Vincent. In all their time together he'd never heard Felicity mention doing things with a girlfriend, but then he supposed she hadn't had much time for one. Digg's words about always wanting Felicity by his side popped into his head. It had just seemed natural, to Oliver, to have her there. It hadn't occurred to him that she might want to do other things.

Coming back to the present, he also wondered whether it was a good idea for two women to go to Felicity's hotel room alone. After all, someone had essentially been stalking her and it was a logical place for the kidnappers to be waiting. He was surprised that both Keller and J.T. seemed unconcerned.

Diggle frowned and voiced Oliver's thoughts, "You realize that whoever tried to take Felicity might be watching her room? I hope your friends are careful."

Vincent responded, "I think I told you that we have a couple of friends who are cops? Well, it's Catherine and Tess. They know how to spot trouble – believe me, they've been in much stickier situations."

"And they can both kick butt," J.T. spoke up for the first time. "I've seen Cat take down guys twice her size."

He stood up and extended a hand to Digg, "J.T. Forbes."

Digg shook it. "John Diggle. You can call me Digg."

"Good to meet you, Digg. Vincent speaks highly of you."

Diggle looked over at Vincent and grinned, "Happy to hear it, although I hope he hasn't been telling too many stories. We were pretty young – we may have done a few stupid things back then."

Vincent laughed, "I haven't had time yet. We'll get to the stories later."

J.T. Forbes walked over to Oliver, and his extended his hand once again, "J.T. Forbes."

"Oliv…"

"Yeah, you're Oliver Queen." Behind J.T.'s glasses, there was a gleam in his eye that was similar to the one Keller had had when he first met Oliver. "We saw your face on Felicity's phone quite a few times last night. In fact, we had bets going on the number of times you were going to call her."

So apparently his calls were a standing joke. Oliver felt his face flush – a rare thing for him – and he looked over at Felicity to find her staring at him with a slightly perplexed expression. Surely she understood, despite what she'd said to these people, that he hadn't been calling because he'd wanted something from her. She had to know that he'd always look out for her.

He answered J.T., but his words were for Felicity. "I was worried," he said gently, "Felicity's never more than five feet from her phone. When she didn't pick up I had the feeling that something might be wrong." He swallowed heavily, "And I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been when she left for New York. I wanted to get in touch to make sure things were okay." It was a lame apology, but it was the best he could do in front of strangers.

She must have understood at least a little, because her face softened and Oliver found himself walking over to join Diggle by her side. When Felicity looked up at him there was something in her eyes that reminded him of when they had first met – an uncertainty about him that made him want to assure her that he could be trusted. God, she looked so young, so… not jaded. He reached out, intending to take one of her hands as he sometimes had in the past.

His phone rang.

He looked at the damned thing. It was Laurel…oh crap, Laurel…they had made plans to meet early this morning before she went into work, to go over her thoughts on getting his company back. He'd forgotten all about it once Digg had told him about Felicity's attempted kidnapping. Well, there was not much he could do about it now. He tapped the Ignore button.

"Felicity…"

The phone rang again. Laurel could be stubborn that way. He had a feeling it was going to keep on ringing.

He answered it, "Hello?"

"Ollie? Where are you? We were supposed to meet at 5:30. It's almost 5:45 - I'm at the foundry now." Her tone was both plaintive and disapproving.

Oliver sighed, "Look, Laurel..." he saw Felicity stiffen at the name, "something's come up and I'm going to be away for a few days. I apologize for not letting you know, especially when you got up so early, but it's kind of an emergency. Can we talk about Queen Consolidated when I get back?"

He heard her sharp tsk on the other end of the line, and for a second thought she was going to deliver one of her responsibility lectures similar to the ones she used to give him before he'd been marooned on the island. She must have caught herself, however, because she quickly lowered her voice and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Is it Arrow business? Can I help?" She sounded eager and excited, her disapproval forgotten. He closed his eyes briefly and wondered if this was indicative of how she was forever going to see him - as either Irresponsible Ollie or The Arrow - the two ends of a spectrum, rather than just as Oliver Queen.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly, "but it's…not that. I'm in New York with Digg and Felicity and we just have…something we need to take care of. I can tell you more about it when we get back."

"Digg and Felicity," she repeated. "And you're saying it's not Arrow business?"

"No, Laurel, it's personal."

"And did you say New York?"

"Yes."

"Oh." She was back to disapproving. "I didn't realize that your relationship with those two extended to things outside of the Arrow world. Whatever it is," she said with forbearance, "it must be very important for you to travel so far, especially when you're trying to get your company and your fortune back. I trust they appreciate it."

"I'm sure they do, just as I appreciate them." Oliver looked at Digg and Felicity, both studiously watching each other, no doubt uncomfortable with the half of the conversation they were hearing. Of course I appreciate them - they're my family, he thought suddenly. My parents are gone…Tommy's gone…and Thea is either absent or angry. Felicity and Digg – they're the ones who give me the unconditional support your family is supposed to give you. He wondered whether they would say the same thing about him. At any rate, it was time to end the conversation with Laurel. "I'll talk to you when I get back to Starling," he said firmly. And without waiting for a response, he disconnected.

He turned back to Felicity to see her examining the photos on the computer monitor, carefully not looking at him. He was about to ask if she'd seen anyone she recognized, when he heard the door, followed shortly by the sound of female laughter.

"Oh hell," Vincent suddenly looked worried. "We probably should have warned you," he said to Oliver.

"Warned me?"

"About Tess. She's…" Before he could finish, two women walked into the room. They must be Vincent's NYPD friends - Oliver's eye was immediately drawn to their sidearms. The taller woman appeared to favor a SIG Sauer, while the shorter woman sported a Beretta Mini-Cougar. He noticed Digg's eyes going to the same place and felt an urge to laugh. It was a sad commentary on both their lives, he thought, when two attractive women made an entrance and the first thing he and Digg noticed was their weaponry.

"We should have just gotten the donuts," the shorter woman was saying.

"No Cat, we decided we wanted to do something healthier. Muffins were a better idea."

"I'll bet if you look up the calories and fat, there's more in a muffin than in a donut."

"I don't believe that…and besides, you can put cream cheese on a muffin. That gives you some protein."

"We should have asked Felicity what she prefers. She's the guest…"

They both stopped abruptly when they saw Oliver and Diggle. Apparently the women weren't expecting them this early, either.

"And… speaking of Felicity, it looks like her friends are already here," the smaller woman said cheerfully, glancing toward Vincent for confirmation. She was quite beautiful, Oliver noticed, in a natural, unaffected sort of way. She certainly could rock a pair of jeans and a sweater.

The taller woman was attractive as well, although a bit more imposing. She glanced quickly between Diggle and himself, before fixing her stare fully on Oliver. There was a gleam in her eye that Oliver could only describe as appraising – he suddenly felt a bit like a prize steer on the auction block.

"Catherine, Tess," Vincent said, "Meet John Diggle and Oliver Queen. Digg and Oliver – meet Detectives Catherine Chandler and Tess Vargas."

Still standing next to Vincent, Catherine waved one hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Digg and Oliver."

Digg responded for both of them, "Nice to meet you as well. Thank you for looking out for Felicity."

Tess Vargas chose to walk over, her hand extended. "Mr. Diggle, Mr. Queen, it's a pleasure. I have to say, Mr. Queen, your photos don't exactly do you justice." She shook his hand and eyed him up and down, not even bothering to hide her assessment of his physique. "Personal trainer?"

"Deserted island."

Usually that was enough to disarm people, but Tess Vargas did not appear disarmed. She smiled and he had a feeling that the interrogation was about to begin.

"Holy crap!" Felicity's voice broke in, making all them all turn to look toward the computer.

"Find something?" J.T. asked, moving quickly to her side.

"Look at this guy," she pointed toward one of the photos. "I think that's him, the younger, skinny guy."

J.T. bent over and stared at the picture. "I think you're right."

They had their first lead.