Great news, Bex Taylor-Kraus' will reprise her role as Sin on an upcoming episode!

Which means I need to step it up with the updates. Well, here it goes.

Disclaimer: I do not own "Arrow" or "DC Comics".

In his head, Oliver just called it 'The Safehouse', or sometimes 'The Hideout'. When he was feeling formal, it was 'The Base of Operations'.

Never 'The Arrow-Cave', that was just dumb. He had heard Felicity refer to it by that name once, and her reasoning was that 'the Arrow' didn't just have a 'Man-Cave' like an ordinary guy. He didn't have the heart to correct her then, and he never found the time for it.

Besides, the one time she did refer to it as such was especially busy, trying to trail a smuggler who happened to frequent 'Verdant' once in a while. He'd have to talk to Thea about the door-policy when he found the time.

Then again, if he stuck his nose into Thea's business, there was plenty of risk that she might see fit to try to stick her nose into his, and only one of them was breaking the law with their extracurricular activities.

Oliver always knew she'd be the more responsible one, eventually, but it still was a shock when he sat down and thought long and hard about how differently both he and his little sister had turned out than what was expected. 'Then again, better a vigilante than can save this city than a college-dropout/playboy...'

As always, the entrance to the basement of the club was unguarded, the new DJ was keeping people out on the floor and they never did need to bother with someone trying to steal a keg before, so his way to the Arrow-Ca... to the Hideout was unimpeded. Which again, was a bit of good luck. Oliver honestly didn't want to have to beat up that bouncer who caught him sneaking in through the roof, but the guy was smoking and fifteen minutes over his break, so one hospital trip and paid leave seemed like a fair trade. Didn't it?

Well, Felicity seemed to think so once he promised her the guy would make a full recovery. She was very firmly in the anti-smoking camp. And Diggle was no help at all, smirking over his shoulder when he tried to explain his detour.

There were no smiles tonight though, both of them hunched over the computer monitor, looking over the pictures of the crime-scene he had sent. Talking to one another in low voices, and frowning thoughtfully, they didn't acknowledge his entrance. Considering the way Diggle's shoulder's tensed and his stance shifted though, Oliver wouldn't have wagered on being unnoticed. Whatever else Diggle was pretending to be to the outside world, the soldier's training would never leave.

Good.

"No trouble with the bouncer this time Oliver?"

"Surprisingly, no, I think he gave up smoking."

Diggle nodded sardonically. "Good, that stuff will kill you."

"More worried about crossbows. Police are already pursuing-"

"Yeah, that's a needle in a haystack." Felicity interrupted, not halting in her rapid typing. "You might not want to hear this, but you've inspired a lot of people. Which is good, so, maybe you do need to or want to hear that? I mean, that'd be good if the people you inspired weren't murderers... and now I feel horrible because you have no affiliation with those people. These people. And the other ones-"

"Felicity?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Do you have any leads on the tag?"

Blank confusion.

"The graffiti," Oliver clarified. "At the crime scene, I managed to send a few images before the police closed off the area."

"Oh," Felicity nodded. "Don't know why my head went to clothing tags... maybe it's laundry day? I don't know. And I'm not sure it's anything besides an ordinary Celtic cross. Associated loosely with a few offshoots of the IRA, but no way does Starling City have that much bad luck. Right?"

Oliver and Diggle exchanged a look.

"... right, I forgot." Felicity exhaled, resuming her speedy typing. "This city is, like, an Indian graveyard, pentagram, and murder-suicide away from being legitimately cursed."

"It's not that bad." Oliver assured, or objected. He wasn't sure which anymore, and he wasn't certain if the city wasn't cursed or not. It certainly wasn't helping it's case, considering the every disaster that had been brought down recently.

Diggle seemed to think the same, and was much more open about it. "Oliver, this city isn't going to win any awards."

"It's pretty bad." Felicity agreed.

"What are we talking about?" Roy called, coming down from the top of the entrance, before coming down two steps at a time. "Heard about the murder in the Glades by the old shooting-galley-"

"-No," Felicity interrupted. "We're telling Oliver this city might be cursed."

"Oh definitely." Roy nodded, all seriousness. "I think an Indian graveyard might be involved."

"No freaking way, that's what I said." Felicity absently chewed on a pen, her go-to habit for trying to remember something. She gave up halfway through. "I'll need to look that up-"

"-could we please, please focus?" Oliver snapped, peevishly. "A man was murdered. We might be dealing with a religious nut. What do we know?"

"No way," Roy scoffed. "Only one church left in the Glades. Maybe all of Starling City."

"That can't be true." But, hesitantly, Oliver turned to Diggle and Felicity. "Where do you go to church?"

"What makes you think I believe in that?" Diggle shrugged. "Never really bought into it when I was just a teen, broke my grandmother's heart. And after a few tours of the sandbox and seeing 'God-fearing' men on both sides rain Hell on civilians? Well, not sure that's changing anytime soon."

"Never had time for it myself," Roy admitted, "but I know the church. Pastor who runs it is okay, always tried to help out anyone who needed it. Just didn't seem enough, to believe in something so big and... weird because of one guy."

"Felicity?"

"Right," she scoffed. "Church."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Right, well um, temple? Synagogue?"

"I go." She frowned, tone defensive. "Occasionally. It's been super-busy and I've got extra-curricular activities to worry about so excuse me if I can't always make it you're not my rabbi you kno-"

"Sorry, sorry!" Oliver held up his hands in surrender. "Didn't mean to make a big deal about this." To Roy, he frowned, looking for a change of subject. "Where were you?"

"Got held up." Roy shrugged. "First dozed off, then there was traffic, then this new bouncer is a douche-"

"-smoker too." Felicity chimed in.

"Heard he quit?"

"Oh well that's good-"

"I'd go myself," Oliver interrupted pointedly, "but if you already know the pastor of the church, maybe it'd be better if you went."

"Charity-case instead of a sneaking vigilante?" Roy nodded. "Makes sense, sure."

A brief flash of insight told Oliver maybe that rubbed Roy the wrong way. "I didn't mean it like that."

"No, it's cool." Roy nodded again, holding up his hands. "Whatever helps the case. And the Glades? They may be cursed with Indian burial ground or gypsy hexes or ghosts or whatever causes it to be a magnet for all the unbelievably bad crap that's rained down, but it's my home and I'm going to make sure it stays safe."

"You've come a long way." Oliver frowned, impressed.

"Don't let it go to my head." With an only slightly forced smile, Roy jogged up the stairs out of the Arrow Cave... Hideout. The Hideout. "Dammit Felicity..."

"What?" She looked up, hurt and alarmed. "What did I do?"

"Any leads on the sign?" Oliver quickly asked.

"Well, this is a longshot," she typed, enlarged the cross with the semi-circle around it. "But I got to thinking, what if that's not a Celtic Cross with the circle? I mean, if someone gets interrupted, you'd expect there to be like a squiggle or an accident with making the design, right?"

"He could have run out of paint?" Diggle suggested, leaning over.

"Multiple people, only one with a spray-paint?" Felicity shook her head. "Doubt that was it... they worked hard, planned this. Or, something like this..? I don't know, they wanted someone to die tonight and they wanted it to be a message. No way they wouldn't have made sure of everything. Besides, the paint isn't fading or losing any body along the edges. Full even spray."

"And that means?"

"What if it's not a cross and a circle, like the Celtic variation," Felicity steepled her fingers. "What if it's a cross with a 'C' in the middle? Or overlaid. Whichever works."

"Alright." Oliver nodded.

"Good thinking." Diggle agreed.

Then they looked at one another, and back to Felicity. "Why?" They both asked together.

"'cuse me?" Felicity looked brought up short.

"What does that mean?" Oliver clarified. "Doesn't call to mind a church, a gang, or tag that I'm familiar with."

Again Felicity started worryingly chewing on her pen. "I have no idea."

"Well," Diggle sighed, crossing his arms. "Maybe Roy will have better luck. What about you?"

"I'll keep patrols," Oliver went back to reload on a new night's supply of ammunition, from small fetches in his wrist-mounted sling-bows for surprise to his main quiver of multiple specialty shots. "If there's any clues, I will find them."

"Yeah, I'm sure of that, but I mean what about your church?" Diggle raised an eyebrow. "Where did you go?"

That brought Oliver up short. "My parents weren't the most religious." That seemed a weak excuse, especially now. But it wasn't an excuse, just fact. He didn't know why he felt like he needed a special reason on the subject. But as it turned out, he did have one. "And I spent five years on an island that had a name that literally meant 'Purgatory'." He put up his hood. "I'll deal with the real thing if it's waiting. Plenty of practice..."

And now ready for that new episode. Hope it doesn't blow everything here out of the water.

If it does though, I'll just relabel this as an AU. Thank you for reading, review if you've got the time!