A/N: Hey.

Many humble apologies. SO did not mean to be away this long. I bet you thought we broke up. But we didn't. Just needed a little alone time with my muse problems, my computer problems, and my Guggenheim and Company trying to turn my brain to mush problems. I thought falling into an out of control West Wing spiral might fix that – I might have been wrong. But I wasn't altogether sorry. New chapter. New resolve. Thanks for coming back. Share some love if you got it.

Observing the shift, anticipating the moves, predicting the disaster, these were not skills that Roy Harper came by naturally. Fortunately for him, there had been plenty of hard knocks thrown his way to learn from. He had been losing things, people, for a long time. And he had developed a myriad of ways to hide the hurt of it from his anger, to his sarcasm, even his penchant for hooded sweatshirts. Sure, he was older now, stronger, faster but he still got distracted, dropped the ball.

He dropped Thea.

He could admit now, he was glad it was a note he was faced with and not Thea. He couldn't have handled that, not in that moment. He would have told her everything, anything just to make her stay. And it would have been a mistake.

He missed her. He worried about her. But the past couple months, not having to juggle the lies was a relief.

Roy still had plenty of balls in the air – Oliver, Felicity, Sin, John who kept throwing more at him. He had a role to play for all of them and he was good at it. He could be the sidekick and the bodyguard and the brother that they all needed him to be, happily.

But he still only had two hands. And more things were shifting.

Oliver and Felicity were obvious. The air was practically rippling in the Cave the other night. The tension had cracked. Felicity had barely touched her Alfredo and Belgian waffle afterward which was unheard of in the course of their friendship. Felicity not hungry, yeah right. Plus, every time he looked at her, she had a dazed far away expression that screamed steamy daydream.

If Roy looked up now, he'd see Oliver across the garage with the now constant half grin plastered on his face which was a couple teeth away from creepy in Roy's opinion. It was a tempting opportunity. But Roy was determined not to embarrass them, especially Felicity, for wanting or having whatever it was between them. Not yet.

John was another story. A mystery, in fact. He seemed to be on his own private, black ops mission. He was taking a pretty serious role on Walter's security team but told Oliver it wasn't permanent. He wasn't around the Cave or the garage much and when he was, he was more than focused. He spent most of his time with Roy. He wanted to go over weapons and security and backup plans. Roy knew John was preparing him for something. But he couldn't make sense of it. And without any superhuman juice in his veins, Roy couldn't beat it out of him either. He'd half tried though, but never got the upper hand on John and certainly didn't tire him into any kind of confession.

There was a time before bows and arrows, teammates, and red leather jackets when Roy took them all at face value. They'd practically been caricatures, playing to their perceived roles better than they knew. Now, there was always another layer-

"Yo! Boy Wonder?" Oliver's voice, much like his arrows, sliced effortlessly through the room.

Roy looked up from the wires of the lift he was essentially trying to hot-wire not exactly happy with Oliver's new found arsenal of sidekick nicknames. He blinked adjusting from the close up work to Ollie's form across the garage. He had a sizeable tool chest carefully balanced on a dolly. "Yeah?"

"Spot me," Oliver grunted with a nod toward the back wall.

Roy took up position at Oliver's twelve o'clock, walking backward, and motioning Oliver forward. He should have known what Oliver was up to when he picked up speed and Roy started to stumble just a little over his heels. They were too close to the wall and Oliver didn't mean to stop.

"Whoa! Hey!" Roy yelped. Oliver let the chest drop fast, nuts, bolts, and wrenches clanging in their drawers. Roy was pinned between the rusted red metal and the cold cinder block wall with stains of questionable origin. Then Oliver was in front of him with a not all together menacing stare but that didn't mean Roy liked it.

And he didn't like the suspense Oliver was trying to create either. "You didn't really need my help, did you?"

Oliver's response was quick, almost clipped. "Not really." Was he trying to hold back a smile?

Felicity. Roy definitely still had more to learn. He took a deep breath but it was hindered by the tool chest. He made do. He stayed calm. "Is this going to be one of those fear of God conversations?"

There was only the slightest raise of Oliver's brow. He might have been a little impressed, if his goal had been to incite, Roy was resisting. "Does it need to be?"

Roy wasn't a fan of the dance. "Can we cut the theatrics? Felicity told me what she wanted to do. I said no. She told me she'd go alone. There wasn't much of a choice."

"You could have told me," Oliver started knowing full well he would be no less than a hypocrite if it came to a discussion of Felicity and choices, but Roy was already shaking his head.

"You, me, Thea. That's not a triangle we need to revisit." It had already caused enough problems, enough hurt.

Oliver wasn't particularly crazy about the other triangle forming now either. And couldn't hide the math he was now doing from Roy. "I can't have her back any less than I have yours, Oliver. I won't."

It was the most honorable thing Oliver had ever heard him say. And he knew his face had gone blank but he truly didn't have a response for that. As soon as the words left Roy's mouth, Oliver knew they were true and he knew he didn't want it any other way. He eased the chest back but Roy wasn't in a hurry to move.

"I might owe you an apology, Speedy."

"You don't owe me anything. Ever." Roy came around the obstacle and after a tilt of his head, he and Oliver pushed it flush with the wall. And then he was being leveled by Oliver's stare again. They were facing each other but thankfully with more space between them now.

"We're not done."

Oliver's voice was heavy. Not in a way that Roy had ever heard before. He tried discreetly to plant his feet certainly ready to take his punishment but without any certainty if it came in the form of a blow or a tirade. Oliver was different from the man Roy first knew only as the Vigilante, a faceless man of violence and vengeance fighting for a ghost. Now, he was the Arrow, a symbol, merciful and just. He fought to be that every day for one reason. And Roy knew it made him infinitely more dangerous.

Shame hit Roy in a wave of nausea and his limbs slackened as it dawned on him. The weight in Oliver's voice. It was fear. Deeply buried but without a doubt.

His usual steel covered it easily. And Roy felt like one of the criminals they hunted after dark. There was finality in his voice. "The other night. The last time I stitch her up."

Roy nodded, maybe too slowly.

"Roy. You cannot hesitate. I don't care if she has a paper cut and I have a bullet hole. She is your priority. Understood?"

"That has always been my understanding." Roy easily admitted it. And a shadow of Oliver's previous smile returned.

"Good."

Merciful and just. Trusty sidekick. Big-sister figure. Roy couldn't help but wonder what he'd gotten himself into. All he'd wanted was to make a few bucks off a spoiled rich girl's purse. The knuckles of his left hand scrubbed absently against the back of his head which snapped up as a low but jaunty whistle entered the room followed by Digg.

Roy glanced over to see a truly sickening sight as Oliver broke into a full grin seeming possibly to have more than the one set of teeth. As if that wasn't scary enough, he threw a wink Roy's way before causally swinging up to sit atop the newly positioned tool chest. Roy realized he had just become a spectator.

"Digg!" Oliver's greeting was too enthusiastic. It immediately brought John to attention.

He looked to Roy first, but Roy's face couldn't give away what he didn't know. John scanned the shop on pure soldier reflex. "You boys have been busy."

Oliver pounced at the opening. "So have you." Far too pleased with himself to hide it from Diggle. And as surprise turned to recognition, Oliver continued. "Ran in to Lyla this morning. Bit more of her than I remembered."

That had Digg almost laughing after a beat, his smile as easy as ever, and he seemed relieved. "You tell her that?"

"I think I was a bit more tactful." Oliver dismounted, crossed the room to Digg and threw his arms around the bigger man. "Congratulations."

It wasn't until then with Oliver and John smiling at each other that the pieces clicked for Roy and he blurted, "Daddy Diggle!" before he really had time to think it through. He managed to fumble a congratulations coming to stand with them and they formed a smiling, bumbling, clueless triangle. Roy and Oliver both unsure if they should press for details and Diggle unsure if he should share them.

Digg's smile dropped a little as he realized they weren't a triangle. "Did you tell Felicity?"

"She should hear it from you," Oliver didn't have any particular wish to meddle with the Digg/Felicity dynamic. But there was also a certain Oliver/Felicity dynamic that he suddenly worried might have a fragile side. Uncharted territory. The wrong truth, the wrong secret now would likely be the difference between making out with Felicity and, well, not making out with Felicity. Couldn't risk it. "You should probably tell her in the next twenty four hours."

Diggle smirked at the warning. Roy furrowed.

Oliver was checking his watch, only half pretending to carefully note the time. Then he was walking back across the garage to his next project. When he heard the beginnings of Roy drilling Digg about obtuse pregnancy trivia, he swiftly turned back around remembering one more thing.

"Kato!"

Roy's head snapped without hesitation and Oliver had to hide just how much he liked that. But he opted for a softer tone than before.

"Give the woman back her shoes."

Roy watched Oliver retreat again. John silently asked a question with raised eyebrows, mirth seeming to be his order of the day. And they sat down by the hydraulic lift together. There was a shift alright but Roy didn't have to rely on his two hands alone anymore. He could learn to deal with that.