The third update in two days (I know, I'm amazed too). It's another short one but Oliver's chapters will be. This one was supposed to be from Oliver's POV but Lance took over. It may feel a little OOC which is okay. My classes start up again this week so there won't be daily updates but hopefully I can shoot for weekly. I have the story mapped out now and there are 24 chapters planned so far.

Enjoy!

Quentin Lance trudged down the stairs and sat heavily in the chair across from Oliver Queen. His body ached and for the first time in many years, Quentin Lance felt like an old man. Memories of bereavement and horrifying grief assaulted him. When he lost Sara, he thought he wouldn't survive it. Booze and pills had numbed the pain of losing his child. Felicity Smoak wasn't his blood, but she was his family. He didn't think he could handle that kind of loss again. And as he studied the young man in front of him, he realized that Oliver Queen wouldn't survive it if she died. For the first time since Oliver Queen returned, Quentin felt like he was really seeing him. There were no carefully constructed masks, no sarcasm or charm to distract and confuse. There was only a man, aged cruelly beyond his years, losing hope. A young man so desperately in love and so terrified that even tears failed him.

"It was her, you know." Lance spoke finally, breaking the heavy silence. He waited until Oliver's tired eyes met his. "I knew it was you because of the way she was with you." Oliver stared at him. "Miss Smoak is lovely and kind to all she encounters. But you, you've been special to her from the get-go. There were only two men in her life that she treated with that kind of-" He paused, searching for the right word. "-dedication. I figured it out after the Glades were leveled. Both you and the Arrow had disappeared but it was the way her smile wasn't quite so big that told me. Then she brought you home and she was happy again."

Quentin watched as Oliver dropped his head into his hands. He'd been delivering bad news for years but sitting here, waiting for any kind of news with Oliver was the hardest thing he'd ever done as a cop.

"She loves you, Kid. And she knows how you feel. Hold onto that. Hold onto that until we've found her."

The two of them sat in silence for several long moments before Quentin turned back to Oliver. "You need some sleep, Kid. It's been three days and don't look at me like that!" Oliver was glaring at him. "You're running on fumes and you're not going to be any good when we find her. And we will find her, Queen. Now get some sleep. Your team is resting up. I'll keep watch. Wake you if anything comes in."

He stared Oliver down until the younger man sighed and got up. He looked away purposefully as Oliver paused near her work-space and pulled a cardigan from her drawer. He felt tears gathering in his own eyes as Oliver raised the garment to his face and inhaled. He worked to contain his reaction as Oliver moved away and laid down.

"She bought me this bed." Oliver mumbled brokenly before turning on his side.

Lance buried his head in his hands and prayed to a God he hadn't believed in since the Gambit went down.

Oliver woke from a thankfully dreamless sleep and blinked up at the rafters. His body felt rested. His mind warred as he lay there. His instincts were screaming at him to get moving, to find Felicity. But a part of him wished he hadn't woken up. He'd rather be unconscious than face the world without her.

A phone rang from across the room and he closed his eyes. He exhaled heavily as he listened to Lance answer the call. He blinked up at the ceiling before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. He watched as Lance paced back and forth for a few moments before hurrying over to Felicity's computers and typing quickly. Oliver shot to his feet and sprinted to his side, waiting impatiently as Lance ended the call.

"We've got the DNA back, Kid. The eyewitness picture also got a few hits. I'm pulling up his info right now."

Oliver felt his temper soaring as Lance slowly typed in the information. Felicity would have finished a long while ago. A sharp remark was on his tongue as a picture filled one of the screens. Lance punched a few more buttons and the other screens lit up with suspect information.

"His name is Marcus Benjamin Strauss."

"The Senator's son?" Oliver questioned in disbelief.

Lance shot him a look. "Have you met him?"

Oliver shook his head. "Not really. We attended some of the same parties over the years, charity events. But we ran in different circles."

"The department is looking into any connections he might have with Felicity. This is good, Kid. We can put out an official APB on the guy. This is good." Lance exclaimed before running up the stairs and out of the Lair.

Oliver sat down in her chair and stared up at the man in the picture. He looked every bit the smarmy creep Oliver had always suspected he was. Pre-island Oliver was an arrogant, heartless brat. But even he'd had standards, and dodgy rumors had followed Marcus Strauss wherever he went. Oliver's knuckles cracked as he glared at the man on the screen.

If Oliver ever got his hands on him, Strauss was a dead man.

Tommy would understand.

Any thoughts? I know I take too long to update but I need to know if anyone is still reading this one. Thanks for reading!