TITLE: Apologies needed
CHARACTERS: Oliver Queen, John Diggle (Felicity Smoak and Barry Allen mentioned)
SPOILERS/WARNINGS: Up to Episode 9 of Season 2
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A tag to "Three Ghosts."
DISCLAIMER: Oliver Queen and company belong to DC Comics.
The car stopped at a red light and John Diggle spared his passenger a glance. Oliver Queen had been very quiet since they left the foundry, looking very preoccupied. Probably with thoughts of his near-death experience, Diggle mused. Almost dying would do that to any man. Even one who puts himself in danger on an almost nightly basis. Maybe he's thinking about the man who beat him, the one who apparently has muscles like concrete. How do you defeat such a monster? Oliver had already faced a similar problem last year with the Dark Archer. Diggle remembered his crisis of confidence during that time. It took a few weeks for Oliver to shake off the defeat. Diggle hoped he wasn't brooding over this recent smackdown.
"How big of a jerk was I to Felicity?"
Diggle looked at Oliver sideways and shook his head slightly. He got the brooding right, just not the subject. Apparently, he would never truly understand what goes on in the younger man's head. "Massive," he said dryly as he put the car in drive when the light turned green. "Why did you react like that, man? Felicity's decision to bring Barry in saved your life."
Oliver rubbed a hand over his face. "What happened exactly? All I remember is getting punched, kicked and flung like a doll by that, that … person. I fought back but my blows, they didn't seem to have any impact."
"We heard the fight on the comms and rushed inside. You were lying on top of medical supplies with a couple of syringes stuck to your leg. We had no idea what was in them. Felicity couldn't hack the Argus database."
"Couldn't hack?" There was incredulity in Oliver's voice.
You were injured, possibly dying, none of us could think straight, you dolt, Diggle thought. Out loud he said, "Things got a bit chaotic in that warehouse."
"Was Barry there?"
Diggle did a double-take. "What?! No! I had to tranq him and grab him at the train station. Oliver! You know he left for Central City before we went to the warehouse."
Oliver had the grace to look chagrined. "I don't know. He looked a bit keen … on Felicity. He could have followed us there."
Diggle waited until they stopped at the next light before fixing Oliver a stare. The younger man struggled not to squirm. "If you haven't noticed, or maybe you have, Felicity is kinda keen on him as well." Diggle frowned. "Is that why you went nuts that Felicity told him?"
"She seemed to trust him too quickly."
Diggle checked the light and pressed the gas. "Well, Barry is keen on you, too, so I don't think the kid's going to talk." He nodded. "Yup, your number two fan. Roy being number one, although that may have changed in light of that arrow you put in his leg."
"So you agree with Felicity." It was a statement, not a question from Oliver.
"Absolutely. She saved your life, and only one other person knows your alter ego." Diggle cleared his throat. "Full disclosure? I wanted to call 911. Felicity stopped me." At Oliver's surprised look, he continued, "Look, man, for gunshot wounds, knife wounds, I'm your guy. I can fix what I can see. But Barry figured out what was wrong with you in a flash. I wouldn't have been able to do that."
"So, yeah, thanks are in order. You're alive because Felicity made the all the right calls. If it weren't for her and Barry, you wouldn't be sitting in this car with me."
They reached the motel where Cyrus Gold was last seen. Diggle parked the car and got out for his recon mission, teasing Oliver about a crossword puzzle in his glove box for if he got bored. Not that the boy would need it. Diggle was pretty sure his thoughts were going to be filled with the actions of a feisty blonde IT girl who wouldn't back down against a furious vigilante - and a dorky CSI assistant who found the courage to challenge his hero.
The end