Disclaimer: Yeah so... you know how the people who own Arrow are the ones whose ideas actually end up on TV? Well, my ideas are not those ideas. That's why I write them on this.

In the last eight years, Quentin Lance had found out that there were an infinite number of levels of bad day. Really bad days could be worked through more easily if there had already been a truly hellish day. Very, very, very bad days were naturally worse.

There wasn't a solid measurement system to really rank the measures of bad. For a while, Lance had been able to measure the bad in alcohol. Type and quantity were both good indicators. Days when he thought about Sarah's death were normally two or three scotch days. Days when he considered his divorce where days for the plentiful consumption of cheap rum and coke. The really horrible days when both considerations were piled on top of each other were days for straight, mouth wash level intensity, brain numbing vodka.

Then he had started going to AA meetings and gotten sober. Then the badness levels of his day were measured in a combination of the number of drinks he wanted to have, and the number of hours he spent without leaving the precinct.

Each day had started to look up when he finally got over the impulse to pummel Oliver Queen every time he saw him. When his baby girl Sara had proven to be alive, things had been even better. Of course, then she had died again.

A new level of bad had been added after learning that Oliver Queen was the Arrow. He occasionally joked inside his own head that that sort of bad was his own personal DefCon Green. Really though, it was just a day were problems and set backs had reached vigilante level.

Because frankly, only people with a real gift for trouble could end up dealing with severe anaphylaxis, threats from assassins as a means of extortion, and being shot at all in one day.

The shooting had happened first. Quentin hadn't been on site when it had happened, but he had heard chatter on his police scanner and tuned in to listen. Lance had ended up wearing a hole in the floor of his office with all of the pacing as the report unfolded. He swore loudly when reports came through of Team Arrow firing stun arrows at his officers. He and Queen were going to need to have a serious conversation about appropriate levels of force. He was all for catching scumbags, but he couldn't advocate his officers getting tazed.

Of course, the criminals guilty of human trafficking had ended up unconscious and practically gift wrapped for the rest of the cops to pick up and take back to the station. Plus, Laurel was now overseeing the processing of twelve underage girls from North Korea who were being given asylum by the DA's office working with Immigration. Really it all came down to methods versus results.

One of his deputies reported that they thought they had hit the Green Arrow somewhere in the shoulder, but Lance hadn't worried much about it. Knowing Queen his entire team had been on stand bye and were already treating the injury.

He had watched once when Queen and Harper had come back to the foundry after barely escaping a fire. Watching the entire team work was something extremely impressive. Laurel had lade out a row of antibiotics while Thea had activated icepacks to soothe the burns and blankets as burns lowered their core temperatures. Felicity had applied burn cream and extra strength allow gel from a bottle in the mini fridge stocked in the foundry. Diggle had stood back a little, being sure to stay in Oliver's sight line as he gave the mission debriefing.

Whatever went wrong with that group they always seemed to manage it.

Then the reports of yet more masked warriors engaging with the vigilantes on a roof top in the glades had come through. They had escaped again and Quentin had breathed a sigh of relief. He occasionally disliked Oliver Queen, but he permanently disliked the people who had taken his little Sara and taught her to be a killer.

He had been tempted to go by Verdant to check in then, but shut down the impulse and decided to simply call the Arrow to ask if everyone was alright in the morning.

Laurel calling him to ask if he could figure out a way to clear the fastest possible route from Verdant to Starling General Hospital because Felicity had had an allergic reaction had been the last straw. Lance had sighed and hung up, letting loose a long string of profanity under his breath as he left the precinct and called the hospital to tell them to expect a girl coming in with anaphylactic shock. He had driven to the hospital and stepped into the waiting room.

Lance cast his eyes around for Felicity or any other member of team Arrow. There was no sign of any of them so Quentin instead walked up to the reception desk and began to extract his badge from his wallet. Pretty much anyone was willing to answer a question if the right person asked.

Before he could get a word out, the emergency doors whooshed open. A rain dampened Oliver Queen stood in the doorway with Felicity Smoak in his arm. "Help!" he shouted. "She's suffering severe anaphylactic shock!" Well, if there was one thing that this experience taught Captain Lance it was that shouting the words "help" and "severe" and "anaphylaxis" in an Emergency Room was as good for getting attention as shouting "bomb!" in an airport.

Medics rushed to Oliver and a door burst open as more doctors wheeled in a gurney. "She's allergic to nuts," Oliver explained quickly. "We gave her epinephrine when the reaction started but her breathing hasn't gone back to normal."

He lowered her gently on to the gurney and moved slightly back as the medics pushed in closer to Felicity. "How long since the epi?" one of them asked.

Oliver checked his watch immediately. "Fourteen minutes," he answered. The medic who had asked nodded sharply and Oliver stood back as Felicity was wheeled further in to the hospital.

Lance watched as Oliver's hand dropped limply to his sides. One of them curled and uncurled in to a fist while the fingers of his other hand rubbed against his thumb. With a deep breath, Queen seemed to force his hands to relax and quickly rubbed the heals of his hands over his eyes and back across his temples. His shoulders slumped down and Lance's immediate thought was that the kid just looked exhausted.

Then Ray Palmer walked in to the ER and every single muscle in Queen's body went as ridged as industrial strength metal. "Where is she?" Palmer asked him. "I got a call from Laurel Lance saying Felicity had an allergic reaction to nuts."

"From the Thai food you sent for dinner," Oliver said shortly.

"I didn't know-" Ray started to say before Oliver held up a hand to cut him off. "It's your job to know."

His voice was so hard and cold that Lance half worried he was about to pull a spare bow and quiver out of his back pocket and start shooting Palmer so full of them that he looked like a porcupine. Oliver's hand was alternating between a clenched fist and flexing stiffly against his side. "You were supposed to protect her."

Palmer looked like he wanted to argue for a moment before he seemed to recognize the truth of his words. "What can I do?"

"Nothing," Oliver sad flatly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled slowly. "Go," he said. "Go. We all screwed up and Felicity got hurt because of it." He turned and took the clipboard of medical forms one of the hospital staff handed to him. "Put on your suite," Oliver told Palmer. "Do a fly over. Just try not to kill any criminals if you can avoid it."

Then he turned and made his way to the front reception counter as he filled out the medical forms. Palmer stared at his retreating back for a moment before casting a quick glance at Lance and seemed to shrink away towards the door.

Lance didn't manage to actually catch up with Oliver to talk until nearly an hour later. He had gotten a call and had to walk through the process for obtaining correct paper work for a case with two of the more junior officers on the force. When he did find Queen again it was because he had followed the sound of a muffled crash. Queen was stepping backwards from the fist sized hole he had punched in the drywall.

Oliver flexed his hand, straightening each finger at once and running a cursory check for damage. He looked up and met Lance's eyes. "I'll get that fixed," he said.

"Don't worry about it," Lance told him. "I'm sure it's not the first hole someone's put in the hospital drywall. Besides, given what I heard earlier I think Palmer'll be all too happy to make a donation for hospital maintenance." Oliver nodded and Lance moved towards him. "I take it she hasn't recovered yet?"

Oliver shook his head and winced as a movement seemed to shift his shoulder. "You okay?" Lance checked. "I heard something on the scanner about you getting shot earlier."

He shrugged. "It was nothing," he murmured quietly. "Just a through and through. Nothing a few weeks shouldn't take care of. It's right over another one so it probably won't even scar. Well," Oliver revised. "Not one people can see anyway. Diggle took care of it."

"Jesus Christ," Lance muttered. "You're walking around with a hole in your shoulder? How did you get Felicity here anyway? I know it wasn't on that bike of yours and I sure as hell hope you weren't swinging from any buildings with her unconscious."

"Traffic was bad," Queen said flatly. "At this time of the week it would have taken too long to drive. Felicity... we never would have made it on time. Running was quicker."

Lance had to take a moment to process the fact that Oliver Queen had been able to run faster than Saturday night traffic carrying another human being with a hole in his shoulder. Apparently the kid did absolutely nothing half way including having truly crappy days. "Well," he said. "I'm going to go mainline coffee from the cafeteria. You'll call me when she's awake?"

Oliver nodded and moved off down the hallway towards the room Felicity had been assigned to. Lance moved in the other direction before coming face to face with Ray Palmer. "Palmer," he said. holding up a hand and stopping the genius in his tracks. "Oliver Queen jut punched a hole through three inches of solid drywall instead of through your head." He shook his head once. "Personally I wouldn't go looking for much more in the way of restraint."

Then he made his way to the elevator and down to the cafeteria for coffee. It tasted horrible but it was hot caffeine which was really all he had been shooting for. When he got back upstairs he paused outside of Felicity's room when he her voices talking.

The voice of a man he didn't recognize said, "You know that this was not the work of the League?"

"Yes," Oliver's voice responded. Lance couldn't see what was happening but it sounded as though he was speaking through gritted teeth.

"Oliver," the unknown man said. "I say this out of respect for our former friendship and the debt my family owes you. If you do not ascend to the calling of Ra's Al Ghul the league will move to target those people closest to you," he paused for a moment. "This girl will not be spared. Nor will any of the others."

"I know about the practices of the League Matseo," Oliver said. Lance clung to the detail. The unknown man now had a name.

Matseo sighed. "Ascend," he advised, sounding like someone who had fought the same argument over and over again. "If you do then all those you love will be protected. You will be Al Sah-him Wari Al-Ghul. The Heir to the Demon." He was silent for another moment. "She would have a role to. A demon's head can be replaced. A demon's heart must be protected at all costs. She is your heart."

The room went silent and Lance slowly pushed in to the room. Oliver nodded to him as he sat in a chair by the window. As it was slightly open, Lance guessed that that was the route the mysterious Matseo had used for an exit. The aversion people seemed to have developed to using doors was one he still didn't get. Windows, skylights, off the roof, all one hundred percent fine. Knocking on the other hand...

Felicity woke up and began to cough. Oliver poured her a cup of water and handed it to her. "Uh oh," she said when she could speak. "I know that face. Oliver, you can take credit for a lot of the crap in my life but anaphylaxis does not go on that list."

Oliver managed a tight smile. "I know. But let's find a new place to order in from okay?"

Felicity considered tiredly and let her head flop back against the pillows. "That I think I will consider." She screwed up her face and moved her tongue around in her mouth. "My mouth feels weird," she commented. "Am I on Benadryl? Because this-" she broke off to yawn. "Feels like Benadryl."

"Sleep," Oliver told her, reaching out and brushing a lock of wet hair that had escaped from her ponytail so that it lay behind her ear. "We'll get you checked out of here and Digg or I will take you home when you wake up."

She hummed contentedly and tipped her head in to his hand.

Lance stood up and clapped Oliver on the shoulder. "She looks like she's going to be okay kid," he said. "I'm going to get back to my apartment and try to get some shut eye. Have one of your people call me when she's home safe."

Oliver nodded and Lance paused at the doorway. "I don't know who this... uh, Matseo is. But he's got one thing right." Lance gestured at Felicity. "That girl's your heart. Now I don't agree with much of what you do, but Felicity Smoak is good. You take care of her or I'll haul your ass to Iron Heights in cuffs myself."

And with that he left.

But talk about a hell of a long day.

A/N: So what do you think? I wanted to get a new chapter up and this has been bouncing around in my brain for a little while. I like Lance being fatherly to Felicity. Besides, it seems kind of obvious to me that if the League does whatever the Ra's wants then protecting the person he loves should be pretty high on their priority list. That seems like the kind of thing that could be a factor for Oliver. Review for me! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo