Look who has her act together and is posting twice in a week. Thanks new people and reviewers, whose comments are helpful, which hopefully you will see in this.
"So what's the deal with you anyway?" Dean says to Oliver as they walk up the street. "If I were on an island for five years, taking down bad guys would not be my thing. I'd take those billions, buy a boat and live off models and margaritas until the end of time."
Oliver doesn't even glance his way.
"No man, I get it. I mean, you hear about it, you read about it, but you think, yeah, that just doesn't exist. It's not possible. So when it does -"
"What are you talking about?"
"Felicity."
Oliver stops, looking at Dean.
"She's a tech'd out badass who looks like she belongs in a Van Halen video. With lipgloss." Dean shakes his head, "it's the costume, isn't it? That's how you got her, right? Chicks dig guys in costume. It's not fair."
Oliver closes his eyes and sighs in frustration, moving forward again. "We're not together."
Now it's Dean who stops them. He examines Oliver for a moment and then nods, "right… leather pants."
"This is your plan. A bar," Oliver says as he looks on ahead at the small building.
"If you want to get something out in a small town, you hit the bar," Dean smiles. "Trust me."
"Not a chance."
"You know partnerships are founded on trust."
"This isn't a partnership," Oliver says. As they near, a small sign becomes visible. Progress Tavern, Established 1897.
"Words hurt."
"Not as much as some things…"
"You can actually hack a satellite?" Sam says.
Felicity frowns, "that's the problem. I need a signal to get a signal."
"We use mobile signals all the time…"
Felicity shakes her head, "weak, insecure, if it pops off mid-hack, you've just left an open door anyone can walk through. Not smart. Even if you do get in, it's not like you can get in anywhere good. And to get a satellite, we need really good."
"Cafe?"
"I got in local there but federal or… you know, bigger than federal, not so much…"
"Felicity, maybe don't tell the suspicious stranger about your hobbies…" Diggle says, studying the pair of men carrying fishing poles as they walk up the street.
Sam shrugs, "name a law, we've broken it."
Diggle tosses him a look. "I don't doubt that."
"I just, if what you're saying exists, which is saying a lot, then how do people not know? Do ghosts and whatever we're after not show up in selfies?" Felicity muses.
"And yet there's not one publishable picture on the internet of the actual identity of the Arrow-"
"We're careful," Diggle says.
"So are we," Sam says, glancing down at the map. "Up there, to the right."
They all follow Sam's direction to see a small white house on the corner, a wreath on it's door. "That's where we're going to research?" Felicity says skeptically. "This is going to take forever."
"Why don't you want people to know?" Diggle asks. "That's not saying I believe you."
"Maybe we don't want the world to know their nightmares actually exist…."
He looks up to find Diggle studying him. Sam blinks, questioning and Diggle gives him a small nod. Sam can't help the feeling of validation that runs through him at the man's silent nod to his reasoning. He suppresses the accompanying feeling of total fandom awesomeness that runs through him when he realizes he he's hanging out with the Arrow's super secret back-up team. And that he likes them. Sam switches his thoughts to his brother and wonders if he's having the same feeling. With a smile, he realizes he's probably not. Not at all.
"Drink the damn beer," Dean says.
"I want to keep my head clear."
"It's more important to not look like a stuck-up asshole. Drink the beer."
Oliver takes a tentative sip. Dean looks around, the bar is filled with eleven people, all of whom are milling about. A pool table sits empty. They'll go there next. "Look man, it may not be my flag but I am down with the rainbow. But isn't the leather-
"The best way to get around in a city is a motorcycle. It's for that," Oliver grumbles. "What's the hair gel for?"
"Looking pretty," Dean says. "It working?"
"You'll have to ask your friend Cas," Oliver says. "How long do we have to do this?"
"So none of those stories about you being some sort of partying legend are true?"
Oliver raises an eyebrow. It is true and when he considers it, he realizes sitting here won't do anything. They need to engage without engaging. Like the pool table, he looks at it and then Dean, "you play?"
"I hustle," Dean grins. "You up for this?"
"Are you?"
Dean scoffs, "banned from 47 bars in 41 states. And guess which state I haven't knocked off the list."
"Just . . . keep your focus…"
"Always do."
"Now I know why I like computers," Felicity says, sweeping a coating of dust over a book. "Less sneezing."
"Search function is also nice," Diggle says to her with a smile, thumbing through yet another book.
"What are we searching for anyway? Other than you know, mythical ghost guy who killed a bunch of trappers…"
"You know it when you see it," Sam says.
Both Diggle and Felicity give him a blank look.
"A series of unexplained deaths, a single notable unexplained death, odd family histories," Sam trails off and then looks at them both. "Or no family history…"
"Helpful," Felicity says to Diggle. Diggle smiles back at her.
"No, no, just… have you guys seen anything about anyone in the actual Shawinigan family?"
Felicity looks at Sam and then at Diggle. Diggle looks at Felicity then Sam. Each go back to their stacks, moving through the papers.
Dean just does not want to admit it. He will not admit it. He cannot admit it. It goes against everything he fundamentally believes as person. The sacred tenets of Dean. But yet, here he is, and the rich kid can hustle. And he can hustle well.
"Lucky shot," Oliver says, far too casual as he knocks back his beer. "It won't happen next round."
"Yeah, we'll see about that," Billy says.
Oliver flicks his eyes to Dean for a moment before he leans back, "anything fun to do around here? I don't want to buy a company in a place unless I…"
Billy laughs and then looks at his pool partner, Joe. "It ain't happening…"
"Nobody's getting that company," Joe says.
"You haven't seen his bank account," Dean replies dryly.
"Yeah and you don't know Shawinigan," Billy says, arching himself down to shoot. "Nothing changes here." He shoots. "Ever."
"Everything changes," Oliver says, moving to the table when Billy's intended ball bounces around the edges of a pocket. "That's where I come in."
"Tell that to everyone else who wanted Shawnigan to change," Joe says with a laugh.
"What do you mean?" Dean says.
"Means what it means," Billy says.
"That a threat?" Oliver says, sinking the red 3 ball easily. "Because you wouldn't be the first town…"
"He's really good with threats," Dean says. Oliver gives him a dark look before turning back to focus on the ball. He sinks the yellow. Dean shakes his head, it's just not right. Rich kids do not play pool with ice water in their veins.
"It's not a threat," Billy says. "Hey Daria, another round. On the shark. That's a threat."
Oliver looks up, "noted. Now tell me what you meant."
Joe's chuckle breaks them all up and even Oliver stands to study at him.
"Joe," Billy says.
"Nah man, it just… it never gets old…" Joe says with a shrug. "They never know. But they always find out."
Alarm bells start to go off in Dean's head and he finds himself looking at Oliver. Oliver bends down over the pool table and makes a good shot, but the green ball bounces off an early edge and misses the pocket. Joe moves over the table and bends down, seemingly oblivious to Oliver now studying him with dark, cold eyes. Yep. He gets it, Dean thinks. This isn't good. This isn't good at all.
"This…" Felicity blinks again at all the books, "this is not good."
"No, it is not good," Sam says.
"How do you have a hundred years of history with no mention to any sort of founder . . . "
"Or population change," Felicity says.
"Or any notable event," Diggle says.
"It's like," Felicity frowns. "It's like it doesn't change."
"Or can't."
"Then why have this?" Felicity looks at Sam. "Why have an entire history if-"
"It's defensive," Diggle thumbs the book. "No town can hide anymore. People visit. People read."
"But if it's defensive, then wouldn't they pay like really close attention to whoever bothered to look this up?"
Sam looks at Felicity, "we should go."
Diggle glances at his watch, "yep, we should."