Disclaimer: Arrow is owned by The CW, Berlanti Productions, and Warner Bros. Television. The characters of the Green Arrow and the Justice League is owned by DC Comics. I own nothing; I'm just playing in their universe.

My name is Dinah Laurel Lance.

When I was younger, I had my life all planned out. Go to law school, marry Oliver Queen, and take my place in high society. But then he was lost at sea- with my sister- and I spent the next five years angry at the world, even as I tried to save it.

But now I know the hell they have both been through. And while my sister may be lost to us forever, Oliver will soon be returning on a mission to save this city. And to help him, I must become someone else. I must become something else….

My name is Quentin Lance.

Five years ago my youngest daughter was lost at sea with her older sister's boyfriend. Afterwards I crawled into a bottle and let my life dissolve into ruins.

But then I learned that Sara was alive. And now I have a new lease on life. Now, I can't be the drunk I've been anymore. To help save this city from the corrupt, I must become someone else. I must become something else….

The two Lances reappeared in Quentin's apartment, their earlier argument long forgotten. For several moments they just stared at one another as the weight of what they had gone through finally settled over them. Finally, Quentin moved into his kitchen and threw open the cupboard where he kept his alcohol and grabbed the first bottle he saw.

"Dad—" Laurel started, but froze when Lance unscrewed the cap of the bottle and started to pour it down the sink.

Lance looked back at his eldest daughter. "You gonna help we with this? This ain't the only bottle, I assure you." Laurel smiled and moved towards the cupboard.

Later that night Lance called the precinct and took a few days personal leave while Laurel hunted for AA meetings for him to attend. Finding one in the nicer part of the Glades, Laurel drove him down. She parked her car and walked with him to the door, but then paused. "Do you want me to come in with you, or…."

"Nah." Quentin said with a strained smile. "This step I have to take on my own."

Laurel hugged him. "Well, I'll be here when you're done." She promised. Lance nodded, then stepped through the door. She sighed and looked around, looking for a coffee shop where she could wait, but her eyes paused when she spied something else altogether.

WILDCAT GYM

Laurel walked into the gym and looked around with interest. It was dingy, though it had an ambiance that would have felt at home in a Rocky movie. Several men, and a few women even, were scattered around the gym, working on old speed bags and lifting weights. A ring was set up in the center of the gym, and she watched as two figures danced around the ring. They were throwing some very stiff punches before one of the men lashed out with his foot, executing a perfect leg sweep.

"Tom!" a gruff voice yelled. Laurel looked over as an older man with silver haired stomped towards the ring. "How many times do I have to tell you that I won't have any of that flippy-kicky nonsense in my ring!"

Tom spat out his mouthguard and leaned against the ropes. "It's call MMA, Pops. It's the future of fighting."

"Not in my gym." Ted Grant growled. "We teach the sweet science here, boy. The kind of fighting that carried the greats for decades. Ali, Liston, Hollyfield, Forman…"

"You know that Rhonda Rousey makes more in 34 seconds than Mayweather makes in 34 minutes?" Tom said with a grin.

"It's not about the money! And don't talk to me about that punk; I'd wipe the floor with him." Ted turned and smiled apologetically at Laurel. "Sorry about my son; he's a bit rambunctious. So what can I do for you, counselor?"

"What makes you think I'm a lawyer?" she asked.

"You're one of those hot-shots from CNRI." He replied. "Probably the only lawyers in the world that anybody actually likes."

Laurel smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm not here on a case, or anything." She continued. "I was in the area and had some time to kill. Saw your gym so I thought I'd check it out."

"You like boxing?" Ted asked as he straightened out some equipment.

"Not a big fan, but my dad and I used to watch fights together on occasion. I even saw your retirement fight."

Ted chuckled. "Wasn't sure if you recognized me. But let's do this properly. Ted Grant." He said, holding out his hand.

"Laurel Lance." She replied, shaking his hand. Laurel looked around. "This is a nice place." She said

"Well, it's a bit old and worn down, kind of like me." Ted joked. "But also like me, it still gets the job done."

"Do you teach defense lessons here?" she asked.

"I teach you how to fight." Ted replied. "Self defense is all well and good, but my philosophy has always been if you can drop an attacker early, you won't have to worry about defense." he looked at her curiously. "Why? You looking to learn?"

"Well, a woman in my line of work tends to make enemies." Laurel said. "I think it may be to my benefit if I knew how to really defend myself."

Ted considered the woman before him or a few moments. "Well, if you got the commitment, then I got the time. I may even let my boy Tom teach you some of that flippy-kicky crap he likes so much."

"How much—"

"You do enough good for the community on your own to warrant a free pass, Miss Lance." Ted cut her off. "You keep doing right by these people, and I'll do right by you."

Once again the two shook hands. "When do we start?" she asked.

Ted smiled. "We just did."

SUNDAY

On Sunday, the pair did the hardest thing that they would have to do.

They boarded a train for Central City.

After the two hour train ride, the pair headed downtown to the trendy lofts where Dinah Lance the elder had taken up residence. Climbing the stairs to the fifth floor to stall as long as possible, all too soon they found themselves in front of her door and ringing the bell. A moment later Dinah answered the door.

"Quentin!" She exclaimed in surprise. "Laurel! What-"

"Hi mom, mind if we come in?" Laurel asked, not waiting for an invitation as she marched into the loft.

"Dinah." Quentin said more diplomatically. "We have something we need to talk to you about."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I was just about to leave for a lecture." Dinah said, flustered.

"Well, you better get someone to cover for you." Laurel said shortly. Her mother's abandonment of her and her father had always been a sore spot for Laurel, and it was everything she could do to be in the same room with her right now."

Dinah scoffed. "Laurel, I can't just call in and have someone take over! I have responsibilities..."

"Well, you certainly know how to shirk them, so it shouldn't be a problem." Laurel spat.

"ENOUGH." Quentin said forcefully. God, it's only been a day and he could really use a drink. "Dinah, we know that you still think that Sara might be alive. The thing is, we not only know that she IS alive," Dinah gasped, "but we also have a message for you, from her. Now, would you please get someone to cover your damn class so we can show you this?"

Less than two minutes later Dinah was seated on her couch between Laurel and Quentin. Quentin pulled out his phone and pulled up the video, then held it up for the three of them to see. Dinah gasped when she saw a Sara that appeared to be decades older.

"Hey mom, it's me! I know, I know… it's hard to believe, what with me looking as old as you look right now, but I really am Sara. The date is currently July 27, 2039, and I'm talking to you from on board the Justice League satellite." She panned the camera to show the massive window of the observatory, and the earth beyond. "I know! Trippy, right?" she turned the camera back to face herself. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I am alive. I'm relatively safe, and I'm content. And I'm talking both of myself now, and myself back then." She clarified. "I'm walking a different path in your present, mom. A lot different than the path I expected to take. And I don't know if I will ever see you again." She sniffed and wiped away the tears that were falling. "Any of you. And I know that hurts. Believe me, its hurts me, too. But I don't know if I will get the opportunity to see you again. And if I don't, I need you to know one thing." She looked intently at the screen. "It wasn't your fault, mom. I made the choice to get on that damn boat. I made the choice to fool around with my sister's boyfriend. And nothing you might have said would have made any difference. So please, stop blaming yourself.

"I have to go know, mom. It's almost time to send everyone back. I hope that I do get to see you again one day, but if I don't, then I need you to do something for me. Don't try to find me. I already made Laurel and Dad promise, and guys- feel free to fill her in. She deserves to know, too.

"I love you guys, always and forever."

Dinah was crying by the end of the video. "she's alive!" she exclaimed. "My baby is alive!"

"I know, Dinah." Lance said, pulling her in for a hug. "I know."

"How?" She asked. "What..."

Laurel sighed, her earlier anger set aside. "That is a long story..."

TUESDAY

Laurel spent the rest of the weekend with her father, giving him silent support as he fought to stay sober around all the newly re-acquired temptations. On Monday she went back to work, puting her notes in order for her next case while she put out feelers looking into Adam Hunt, before heading to Wildcat's Gym that evening for her first training session. Tuesday night found her alone in her apartment, working on the Morgan case and drinking a cup of coffee (she hadn't thrown out all of her wine, but she was determined not to drink unless it was a special occasion now). She set her cup down and rubbed her weary eyes, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. Thinking it was finally Tommy coming over, Laurel moved to the door and opened it-

To find Thea standing there.

"Hi!" she said in surprise.

"Hey." Thea replied tiredly. "You got a minute?"

"Sure." Laurel led her into the apartment. "Did you want some coffee? Or if you're hungry, I ordered pizza from Mario's; it should be here in a few minutes."

"I'm good." Thea said with a strained smile. "Actually, I needed to ask you a favor."

Laurel gestured to the seat across from her, and the two sat down. "What kind of favor?" she asked.

"Well, I'm cleaning myself up." Thea began. "I would have done that even if Mom and Walter hadn't grounded me. And I'm trying to start making up work in school. Mrs. Groth is willing to work with me to help bring my grades up without my mother's checkbook getting involved. But I need to do more than just make up work, and since I need community service to graduate anyways, she suggested that I start putting in those hours now. And I thought I could do that at CNRI."

Laurel was pleasantly surprised. "Well, we can certainly use the help. I'd be happy to put in a word for you." She patted her on the arm. "I'm proud of you, Thea."

"Wait until I pull myself out of the hole I dug with my grades, THEN be proud of me." Thea replied wryly.

"It's hard acknowledging you've made a mistake." Laurel replied. "And it's even harder asking for help. I'm proud you're taking the initiative." She sighed. "And I've been horribly unfair to you for the past five years."

"What?" Thea asked in surprise. "Laurel, no…"

"Yes." Laurel replied firmly. "I lost my sister in the most horrible way imaginable, but you lost your brother AND father. And your mother wasn't really there for you when you needed her. I should have been there for you, Thea. Maybe, if I had been, you wouldn't be…"

"So screwed up?" Thea supplied.

Laurel laughed lightly. "I was trying to put it delicately. But yes, maybe you wouldn't be so screwed up."

"We'll never know, Laurel." Thea said. "And the only thing we can do now is move forward, so that's what I'll do."

"And now I'll be there to help you." Laurel replied. There was a knock at the door. "Thank god, the pizza's here."

"Long day?" Thea asked.

"The longest. And I'm starving. She opened the door to see the pizza delivery guy standing there, right next to Tommy Merlyn.

"Technically I did get here like 10 seconds before this guy." Tommy joked.

Wednesday

"Welcome back, Quentin." Lucas Hilton said as Lance walked into the squad room for the first time since the previous Friday. "You feeling okay? I can't remember the last time you took vacation."

"I needed to get my head back on straight." Lance said as he moved to his desk. He reached down and picked up his wastebasket, setting it onto of his desk. "Spent some time with Laurel, took care of a few personal problems." He opened the middle draw of his desk and withdrew a bottle of whiskey. With only a second's hesitation, he dropped the bottle unceremoniously into the waste basket.

His partner looked at him in surprise. "She finally got you to cut down the booze?"

"Nope, she helped convince me to go dry." Lance replied.

"About damn time." Hilton said with a smile.

"Yeah." Lance agreed, putting the basket back on the ground. "Should have known better than to argue with a lawyer."

"Lance." Quentin looked up to see Lieutenant Pike approaching.

"Yeah Lieutenant?" he asked.

Pike glanced down at the bottle in the wastebasket briefly before looking back up at Lance. "I need you to send a copy of your Mathis files to the D.A."

"He's not out, is he?" Lance said in alarm, remembering what had happened when he had escaped.

"No, but his lawyer is making noises again. Looking to get him into a minimum-security Country Club."

"The only place that sick fuck needs to go is a six-foot-deep hole." Hilton said darkly.

"Agreed." Pike said. "It won't come to anything, but the D.A. want's to cover all of their bases."

"I'll get right on it." Lance assured his CO.

"And Lance," the cop looked up from his desk, "It's good to see that bottle where it should be. You're one of our best detectives; I need you with a clear head when your out there."

"Thank you, Sir." Lance said. As Pike walked away, Hilton leaned over.

"Are we in an alternate reality or something? I could have sworn he just complimented you." He joked.

"Yeah." Lance chuckled, rising from his desk and walking towards the file cabinets. "It's an alternate Earth where the Lieutenant compliments me, I show up sober to crime scenes, and criminals just throw themselves at us to go to jail—" Lance was cut off as the window behind his desk shattered, and he jumped back as a large form flew over his desk before landing in a heap on the floor. Cops all around in the squad room drew their guns and held them on the bloodied form that was slowly starting to move. The figure- a man- tried to push himself up, but ended up flopping onto his back, groaning in pain. His suit coat slipped open, revealing—

"Gun!" Lance called out. He held his piece on the man as another cop rushed forward and wrenched the gun out of the holster.

"Holy shit!" the female cop exclaimed. She looked back at Lance, and he recognized her as McKenna Hall. "Sarge, this is Daniel Brickwell!"

Lance nodded as more cops rushed forward and slapped cuffs on him. He rushed back to his window, looking out at the street to try and see who had tossed the criminal through his window. Seeing no one his eyes flitted upwards, and he froze.

For standing on the roof of the building across the street from the precinct was the Hood.

Hilton joined him and gawked along with him as the Hood gave the two cops a jaunty wave before firing a grappling arrow and swinging out of sight into the night.

"Tell me you saw that." Hilton pleaded with his partner.

Lance sighed. "Looks like I picked the wrong day to stop drinking."

To Be Continued