Oliver let the quick repeating pattern of his shoes hitting asphalt chase most of the thoughts from his mind. He was aware of Roy's feet hitting less than a pace behind him, his breathing slightly labored. They had fallen into respectable routines of training and patrolling, Oliver slowly letting go of the reins that had been so necessary last winter and spring.

Out of spite, Oliver had called him Speedy. It was when Roy first told him he'd had Thea that night and somehow let her go. Oliver knew it stung, and he wanted it to. But the sting quickly faded leaving the original endearment and Oliver let it stick to Roy. And it became a comfort and a promise.

They ran through alleys, over rubble, and a few rooftops in plain clothes racing for miles without intent. Oliver pushed himself and Roy by extension, only Oliver knew they had a destination. Wind, sweat, and adrenaline clearing his head, Oliver had realized it never cleared fully anymore. It had a kind of screensaver now that faded from one image to the next of a single subject. Today, it was one particular image he couldn't shake, or feeling rather, and he didn't want to.

After lunch with Walter yesterday, Felicity had tucked her feet under her on the seat of the Bentley, her cheek on the cool leather, and dozed off as Digg drove them back to the Cave. He'd expected a door to door dissection of the afternoon. She would want to know what she missed, why he wouldn't take Walter's job offer, and what the hell he had been thinking when he almost went off half-Arrowed across the restaurant. But before he could ask her if she was okay, her eyes were closed and her breathing had turned to a gentle hum.

Oliver let the oddness of it evade him when they turned a corner shortly thereafter, her silky skirt and blouse finding no traction on the leather, and her sleeping form slid across the seat to nestle against his side. He brought down his arm which had been stretched across the headrests behind them to enclose her shoulders, her glasses nudging into his chest. He was glad for it when they turned again and that arm kept her from sliding away, happier yet when she made a handhold of his shirt low on his chest, canary yellow finger tips disappearing in the light blue fabric. Another happy accident brought a couple cold digits between buttons and through the placket where he was more than obliged to warm them.

He had thought he might have fallen into a dream himself. She snuggled closer to him, her entire body molded to him covering his left side from shoulder to knee. The beat of his heart acted like a white noise machine. And then all his focus went to her left leg which until then had rested chastely at his outer thigh, but her knee curled up until she had completely covered his quads, her skirt riding up to expose more alabastrine skin. His mouth went dry. He carefully indulged his free hand, letting it rest just below her hip.

She was soft and fair. Somehow she smelled like sunshine and marshmallows. It was easy when he bent his head just a little and pressed a kiss into her hairline, then rested his cheek on top of her head. He had closed his eyes then too. And he didn't have a solid thought again until the car stopped moving and he remembered Diggle had been there with them the whole time. Oliver had smiled to himself because he wasn't ashamed of any second of the last twelve hundred.

Digg simply parked the car and soundlessly slipped out. For a few minutes more Oliver just let the feel of her in his arms sink into his bones. He had the fleeting thought that he hoped he was like memory foam, almost wishing he had made a Felicitous-Slip and said it out loud. She would have thought it was funny. Finally, not without reluctance, he brought his hand from her hip to her jaw running his knuckles across the bone until her eyes opened and he waited for her to jump away. It was a slow, still sleepy motion in which she reclaimed her leg and brought her eyes to his. She didn't move away. Oliver thought he felt her fingers gripping his shirt a little tighter.

"I thought the Bentley felt extra muscle-y."

Oliver's hope solidified as she said the words with no trace of her customary fluster. He was further rewarded when she then buried her face in the crook of his neck for a minute before a whiny groan warmed his skin, resigning herself to wakefulness, and she was back on her side of the car, stretching her legs out in front her as she reached for the door. His arm fell across the seat after her while the rest of him stayed trying to keep her warm indent from vanishing.

"You coming?" Felicity popped her head back in the open door half framed in sun. She waited while he slid across the seat and stepped out to join her only the door between them. "Oh, sorry." Her hand came up to rub vigorously at his lapel which he saw was dusted in her makeup. "Come on Mr. Deputy Mayor. I'll clean your jacket."

"What happened?"

"Yo, Ollie?"

Oliver had lead Roy to a rooftop deep in the Glades. Oliver was looking over the edge while Roy caught his breath behind him and was apparently trying to ask him something. "Huh?"

"What happened yesterday in the restaurant? Remember my job was to sit across the street and watch while you all ate an expensive, five-star meal?" Of course, Roy hadn't been invited to lunch but with Digg inside Oliver thought it was a good opportunity for surveillance training. "But you got all, um, growly before entrees. Never mind. I'll just ask Felicity." It was the only sure way to get an actual answer.

He joined Oliver at the edge now. They were looking down at a rusted auto shop. A rusted auto shop with cracked concrete, busted glass in most of the bay doors, several dismantled clunkers, and an alarming amount of Russian graffiti. Roy knew exactly where they were. He grabbed Oliver above the elbow spinning him away from the garage.

"What are we doing here? If you think I'm going in there sans hoods, you're crazy. Do you know who runs that place? They'll break our – well they'll break my legs! Are you laughing?" Roy had lived in the Glades his whole life and he didn't think there was anything funny about the Russian mob.

But Oliver was practically bent over in a deep belly laugh showing far more teeth than Roy was comfortable with. He backed away a little trying to figure out Oliver's abrupt personality change. It took a minute, but Oliver righted himself and roughly pulled down the color of his t-shirt showing suddenly gun-shy Roy the Russian ink.

"You're sick. That'll never-" Roy leaned toward him seeing the slightly faded, somewhat crude black. "That's real. Shit. Only cap – you're a fucking Bratva captain?" He heard Felicity say something about going to Moscow last year but you couldn't embed yourself with mobsters in three days. He'd heard half an offhand comment about a Russian and a submarine as well but assumed it was a joke. And he'd learned enough from Thea to know Russian was not part of the Queen pedigree. So, not a joke?

They were at the edge of the rooftop again, Roy still having no idea why they were there. "Are we busting caps for vodka and rubles now?"

"Former management departed unexpectedly. Now they're going legit. You're looking at Queen and Harper," Oliver finally laid it out. It wasn't Fortune 500 but it was his name on a building again.

"Seriously?" Roy had to ask. Oliver had seemingly forgiven his early attitude problems, the Mirakuru debacle, even Thea's disappearance – Roy was still waiting for him to change his mind and decide he wasn't worth the effort.

"Fixing cars can't be much harder than stealing them, Speedy," Oliver said this over his shoulder as he made for a fire escape at the side of the building.

Roy followed. "You with a sense of humor is scary, you know that?" He slid down a rail to catch up. He could give a jab as well as he could take one. "What's the missus gonna think about this?"

He watched amused as Oliver's cheek muscles tightened and his jaw locked holding back something that wasn't a smile. "She's not-" he started tensely then relaxed and something like a smile did break through with a chuckle on the end. "She's not gonna like it."