A/N: I couldn't give Oliver a hug (or a punch) so I gave him a baby to hold. Enjoy.

He'd been running on autopilot since he'd walked out of the lair with Roy. When they'd bypassed the bar and headed for the exit the kid had chucked his thumb over his shoulder, confused and maybe a little disappointed.

"This isn't the part where we get raging drunk?" Roy had asked, but Oliver had just shook his head no and continued on.

The drive to Digg's was a blur, as was the climb to the fifth floor, but something small eased inside his chest when the door opened and they were greeted with a smile.

By the time they'd eaten he'd caught more than one significant look from his partner but he deflected them, not ready to voice what he'd witnessed because that would make it all too real and right then he couldn't quite handle reality.

His eyes slid shut and then immediately opened, because all he could see was her and Palmer and the way the blue of her dress had matched her eyes, and the way she'd rested her hand along his arm and it hurt too fucking much to even breathe.

He hadn't noticed when Roy had gotten up to help Digg with the dishes, too lost in his own conflicting thoughts to be present.

And then there was a nudge to his arm and he looked up suddenly, half started to see Lyla at his side, Sara cradled in one arm as she tried to keep her phone tucked between her cheek and shoulder.

"Take her," she mouthed, and before Oliver could protest ten pounds of soundly sleeping baby girl was deposited in his arms.

Lyla was walking away, talking briskly to ARGUS on the other end of the line, and he was left dumbstruck and open mouthed.

He'd tensed as soon as he had her, but she didn't wake, she didn't cry, and gradually, one by one he let his muscles relax, let his vertebrae sink back into the chair and began to breathe again.

Slowly he let go with one hand, confident enough he didn't need both arms to hold her, and reached out to softly stroke her small fist. She shifted in his hold, head moving back and forth, nose wrinkling, letting out quiet little noises as he froze, certain he'd damaged her somehow. And then she came to rest, face turned towards him, tiny fingers wrapping themselves around the finger he'd extended.

He tried to control his exhale, lips pursing as he fought not to let it all go at once and his stopped heart resumed.

Sara's grip was tight, stronger than he would have expected and as he stared down at her he remembered stepping into that hospital room and watching Felicity coo over the baby and the swift, sharp ache of want that had came out of nowhere, surprising him in it's fierceness.

That hadn't gone away. Despite his best efforts, despite every argument he could make telling him why he couldn't be with her, despite the knowledge that he'd die if he was ever responsible for hurting her, despite it all he still loved her.

"How did this happen?" Digg dropped into the chair in front of him, leaning easily against the table as he smiled between his daughter and Oliver, "You've used every sneaky ninja skill in your quiver to avoid holding her since she's been born."

"That's not…" he started and then cut himself off because Digg was right, he hadn't held Sara before.

He received one knowing eyebrow in return which Oliver dismissed with a scowl.

"Her mother didn't give me much of a choice," he finally answered, a pang shooting through him when John turned to stare at Lyla, pacing in the bedroom still on the phone, the adoring look on his face saying everything.

"Sounds about right," he said with a laugh and then immediately sobered, "You gonna tell me why you and Roy showed up on my doorstep like a couple of strays?"

"It's nothing. Just thought the kid could use a good meal and some company."

"Mmmhmm," Digg said carefully, "That so?"

Oliver didn't answer, just looked back down to see he'd begun to gently rub his thumb over Sara's little fingers, she let out another small sigh, drawing her legs up within the snap fronted sleeper she was in and then stretching back out again.

"So you didn't take my advice then?"

His thumb stilled as his vision flashed with the image he never wanted to see again, but also knew would be burned into his memory, his penance to live with.

"She's made her choice."

"Really? She told you that tonight?" Digg countered and Oliver's eyes flashed up, unable to hide the pain and rejection and loss he felt.

"She didn't have to tell me. I saw it with my own eyes."

Digg didn't say a word, just cursed under his breath and wiped a hand down his face.

There was silence except for the muted noise from the game Roy was watching and Lyla's occasional exclamations.

"Want me to take her?"

Oliver shook his head slowly, "No. She's fine."

With a sigh Digg pushed himself off the table to stand, pausing when he did, "One day the two of you are going to realize you both want the same thing. I just hope I'm around to see it."

He clapped a hand on Oliver's shoulder as he passed, going to join Roy on the couch as Oliver sat in the low light of the empty dining room.

Sara squeezed his finger and he glanced down to see her staring at him, warm brown eyes wide and liquid as she took him in, somehow seeming to be studying his very soul.

"I hope I'm around to see it too," he whispered to her quietly, and as she blinked up at him he thought maybe, somehow, one day her father would be proven right.