Disclaimer: Not mine.

I did not mean to leave everyone hanging for so long, just got kinda caught up in a different - very different - project and it ate up quite a bit of brainspace, slowing things down. I may not be able to return to the old 'once every two months' pattern, but I should be able to at least return to a steady, semi-consistent pace again. I am not burned out, but I do seem to be a bit lightly toasted.

Different Queens

By Kylia

Dressed to Get Killed I

Olivia wasn't happy.

It wasn't that his friend was an open book, all the time, but Tommy did know her well enough to know that she was not happy. She was agitated, regularly looking around, checking the windows, the doors - dreaming of an exit from this overstuffed fancy event. She was tense.

"Why was your mom so hot on dragging you to this anyway?" Tommy asked Olivia in a low voice. "It's not like she doesn't know how much you don't like them."

"Because being a Queen sometimes matters more than just doing what we want," Olivia muttered, clearly quoting or paraphrasing her mom. "Apparently this auction is a really big deal, and she wants everyone to see the whole family's taking it seriously... and I think she's punishing me for not wanting to take a position in the company."

"...she actually tried to - why would she -" Tommy blinked. "You've never been remotely interested, and Theo has been. I mean, he's been prepping for his business major for years at this point."

"She still wanted me to have some sort of executive role. I told her I'd have no idea what I was doing." Olivia took a small sip of her champagne.

That was another thing Tommy had noticed. She'd drank her cocktail at her welcome home party, though clearly not used to so much alcohol anymore, but here, she was barely drinking. He'd almost say no champagne was actually passing her lips at all.

Another sign she was uncomfortable.

"Still, she shouldn't force you to be this uncomfortable." Tommy murmured. There were perks to having a dad that wrote you off years ago.

Olivia frowned, letting out a breath. "Sorry I'm being such poor company. I know you wanted to hang out, and I invite you here and -" she looked around, then paused, staring Tommy followed her gaze, and stiffened himself.

"What's Loren's dad doing here?" Tommy braced for the detective to give them grief. Tommy hadn't avoided it, and Olivia... well, Tommy had heard what the man had to say about Olivia in the last five years, he didn't need to hear it now.

"...providing security?" Olivia guessed, when the detective did not approach them, or even seem to notice them. "With so many of the city's elite here, maybe the Mayor or commissioner decided to put some cops on guard?"

"And they sent Detective Lance?" Tommy asked, chuckling incredulously. He shook his head, putting the man out of mind as he moved on, elsewhere into the crowd. "Whatever. But you don't need to apologize." Okay, so Tommy was kind of annoyed that she was being, as she'd put it 'poor company' because it was no fun to hang out with your friend when your friend wasn't enjoying herself.

Especially when you wanted to move past 'friend', if you could manage it.

I don't just want to get in Olivia's pants though. He told himself. Tommy knew how he'd behaved in the past, and he wanted to get this right. And that meant being aware of his own... habits. Olivia was his friend and he didn't want to screw that up anymore than he wanted to screw up his shot at something more. So he wanted to be careful and -

He didn't want her to think he was like... trying to reduce her to just a romantic partner or... whatever.

Besides, shouldn't marrying your best friend be the best of both worlds? So a little annoyed or not, he wasn't going to tell her that. One, because she was still dealing with the whole 'cast away on a island for 5 years' stuff, and two, because this really wasn't under her control anyway.

"I'm just glad I can be here for some moral support," he gently squeezed her upper arm - damn, was she always that muscular? No, she definitely wasn't, but... wow, he could feel them now.

"Thank you." Olivia murmured. She looked around a moment, then, "Mom. Walter. Theo."

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd decided not to come," Walter said, "I'm glad to see you did." He nodded to Tommy. "Tommy."

"Mister Steele." Tommy let his hand fall by his side, nodding to the man.

"Tommy, lovely to see you here as well," Moira Queen nodded. Theo waved a moment, looking much more comfortable in his fancy suit and tie than Olivia did in her dress. "Olivia, you look beautiful, thank you for coming."

"I wouldn't miss it," Olivia said, managing to sound genuine - for the first time, she actually sounded like she wanted to be here. Then again, Olivia did know how to pretend for her mom before...

They traded a few more pleasantries, Walter making a comment about the excellent opportunity the auction represented for the company, he had already won by becoming part of a lovely family, gesturing to Moira, Olivia and Theo. Tommy noted that Olivia didn't seem to take an issue with considering Walter part of the family, which was good.

Better than I'd have been dad had come back from those two years he was gone after mom died with stepmom in tow. Not the same thing, but Tommy was glad his dad had never dated, or got some endless train of successive stepmoms, like some of his friends got from their dads. But Walter had always been respectful that he wasn't Robert, from what Theo had said, and so far, Olivia seemed to think he was okay.

Walter and Moira went off to chat with Ted Kord and his date, while Theo hung back for a moment.

"Never thought I'd see you at one of these, Tommy," Theo grinned, gesturing around. "I feel like people aren't drunk enough for your preference."

"I am capable of enjoying myself at something other than a drunken raver," Tommy countered, which was true. "But Olivia asked me to be here for moral support, and I'm happy to."

"You look good in the suit, Theo," Olivia commented. "Give it ten years and you'll be commanding board rooms as well as dad ever did."

Theo flushed a little, "I don't think I'm ever going to be as good as dad, but-"

Whatever qualifier Theo had been about to add, Tommy never found out, because a bunch of things happened at once. There was a shout - it sounded like Loren's dad - a gasp, someone falling to the ground, a glass shattering, someone else falling to the ground - and then Tommy actually heard the gunshot.

In hindsight, he'd get why it took a second to hear the shot, but in the moment, he was confused, standing, staring, looking - Walter Steele was on the ground, tackled by Loren's dad, one of the server's was done, blood spreading across his white shirt, people were screaming - a hand, grabbing his, pulling him down forcefully - Olivia was half-crouched, a determined look on her face - she'd pulled Theo down, pulled him down -

There were screams, everyone trying to scatter, fleeing to the stairs, to the edges of the room, or just running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

In his memory, as he played it back, everything was disjointed - like a series of pictures, or maybe gifs. Olivia's bodyguard was rushing over, interposing herself between them and the window. Cops were trying to get people out. Olivia shouted something about trying to find her mom. Tara ushering him, ushering Theo, into one of the stairwells. Tommy couldn't see Olivia - where was she - what -

It wasn't really until they were on the lower floor, away from windows, heart pounding in his chest, that Tommy was able to process what had happened -

Some kind of - sniper? Assassin? Mad gunman? Someone had shot up the auction and then - where was Olivia?!

Where's Olivia!

Dressed to Get Killed II

Deadshot was dealt with.

Or at least, she was nearly certain he was, anyway. She hadn't had a chance to stop and check his pulse, but her arrow had gone into his eye. That had taken down Slade. It would take down him too.

But the chaos of everything, the cops coming right behind her, the fact that Olivia's Mother, and Tommy and Theo were probably freaking out -

Why did I suggest Tommy come with me?! She'd known the shooter was going to target the place. But when Tommy had come she - she didn't want to just turn him down. She had been holed up in the house, ignoring him. Yes, she didn't want to go out to clubs and party hard like before, but - Tommy was clearly willing to try and meet her halfway, and she hadn't even tried.

Besides. She could handle it. Keep him safe. Get Tara to cover him.

Which she had.

She opened the door into the foyer, hearing her mother's voice come in from the living room, "The fact that you got my son and Tommy out of there is not anything I can complain about, but I hired you to protect my daughter."

"Mom, Olivia told her to get us out of there!" Theo protested.

"And why didn't she go with you? Where is she!"

"I went to go find you," Olivia said, walking into the living room. Tara was standing not quite at attention, while Theo was perched on the edge of his seat, and Tommy was pacing around behind the couch, jaw clenched - he stilled, turning at the sound of Olivia's voice.

"Olivia," Her mother turned, wrapping her arms around her in a hug. Olivia hesitated for a moment, then she returned the hug, trying to relax. "Where - why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I dropped my bag in all the - I didn't even realize it until it was - I'm sorry." Olivia said quickly. "And - the gunshots I -" she cut herself off, taking a breath. "I sort of - I sort of lost track of where I was." That was a lie, but hopefully the way she let her voice go a bit thick would help sell it, hinting at what she meant without having to say it.

Her mother stepped back, staring for a moment, blinking. "How could you lose track of-" She cut herself off. "Oh. God, Olivia... I'm - "

"I should have tried to call collect or something, or -" Olivia said, trying to - not placate her, since she wasn't angry, but - calm her down. Before she could say anything else, Theo jumped to his feet, eyes wide, mouth dropping open in confusion for a moment before he started talking.

"Lost track of where you were? We were getting shot at! Where the hell else did you think you were!? I - I was terrified you were dead, Olivia! I just got my big sister back! How do you lose track of where you are when there's some psycho shooting up the place?!"

The sudden surge of anger in Theo's tone threw Olivia, and she stared, almost not recognizing her brother for a second. Before she could even think of what to say to that, Tommy put a hand on Theo's shoulder.

"Theo, take it easy on her," Tommy cautioned, and Theo stiffened for a moment, then let out a breath.

"She thought she was back on that island, Theo," Her mother said, softly. Olivia watched Theo stiffen again, his cheeks going a deep red as he realized what she meant, and he dropped back into the chair, almost falling into it really, covering his face with his hands, sounding mortified as he finally said, "Oh god I - Olivia I'm sorry I - fuck-" He cut himself off, taking a breath, lowering his hands.

"I'm sorry I -" He tried again, then paused. "I think I'm still..." He gestured to himself vaguely, "adrenaline and - that's not an excuse. I'm sorry." His cheeks were still red, and he looked down at the floor for a moment after finishing.

"It's okay." Olivia said, walking over to her brother. It was just words, and - she couldn't expect Theo to understand all that. She shot Tommy a grateful look, and squeezed Theo's other shoulder for a moment. "I'm fine. And you're fine too. We all are. That's what's important." She squeezed Theo's shoulder again, then stood, walking around the chair to get to Tommy.

"I'm sorry the invite for moral support turned into dodging bullets." Olivia told him.

"Hell, I suppose we were due it. We've got some crazy archer shooting up people, now we have a crazy gunman," Tommy laughed, trying to dismiss it all. She could see it in his eyes - he was still bothered by it all, putting up the brave face he always did. Always had, really, since his mother died. "Next time, though, we're going to the club. Seems like it might actually be safer than some high society event, given who these guys are going after."

"Do we know - did they get the guy?" Theo asked, softly.

"Not yet, but they seem to be hopeful they will," Walter said, coming into the living room. He blinked as he saw Olivia, "Olivia. It's a relief to see you're alright." He said it in that formal, British way of his, but it didn't sound like a pro-forma thing. She... she wasn't sure what to make of Walter. He wasn't on the list, and dispute her best efforts after she returned from the Island, she could find no sign he was dirty. And -

Just as he could hardly have expected Loren to never move on, the same held true for her mom.

And according to Theo - who seemed to think the world of him - he never tried to be more than a stepdad. Never tried to replace Dad. That had been enough to give him some slack at first, and nothing he'd done since had hurt that.

He was, by all accounts, a good man, a good CEO, a good husband, and a good stepfather, all things said and done.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived back- the police wanted a statement about the incident. Apparently I was the target, or at least, one of them."

"Wait, what?" Theo gasped. "What - why would anyone-"

"Allegedly, the gunman was hired by one of the other bidders at the auction, and he had several other bidders killed in the last week." Walter explained. "I'm afraid that the term 'cutthroat' in the world of business is not always figurative. But the police and security did the jobs admirably, and the man behind the gunman is in custody." He let out a breath.

"So Carl was killed because of the auction?" Her mom asked, letting out a sigh. She looked over at Tara. "I apologize for my tone earlier. You did protect my son, and my daughter did tell you to do so, and she is fine."

"That's okay. I should have made her come with me anyway, but your daughter can be quite... forceful, when she wants to be," Tara said after a moment.

"Try raising her through her teenage years," Her mom said after a moment. Tommy and Theo chuckled, and Olivia forced a smile she hoped looked suitably rueful. Though she could understand the comment. She knew what she'd been like as a teenager. And a young adult. "But given that this city is proving not to be as safe as I thought - I was wondering if you might know of any other people looking for a personal security job. Who are as good at discretion as you are."

Wait, she can't mean - She looked over at Theo, who seemed to be having the same thought.

"Mom!" He stretched the 'mom' out in a way that felt almost comically stereotypical. "I don't need a bodyguard!" Theo protested. "Or a babysitter!"

"Please, Theo. For my piece of mind, at least for right now. Miss Michelle made it clear to me when I hired her that she'd protect Olivia's privacy, and as..." she paused for a moment, inhaling, then going on "frustrating as that can be, I do understand the reasoning behind it."

"I can think of a few people who might be a good fit for your son," Tara offered. "I can give you their names, and you can decide where to go from there." She nodded, looking over at Theo, shooting him an apologetic look, as if to say 'sorry kid'.

"I don't need a bodyguard!" Theo protested. "It's not - it's not like there's not plenty of security at Balloi Prep, and here at the mansion, and -"

"Theo, please." Walter cut in softly. "I understand your reluctance, but at least until things in the city settle down a bit, I think it might be worth trying. If this proves to be too intrusive on your life, we can discuss it. But we all did just get shot at. I think Queen Consolidated will be hiring additional security as well, given everything that's happened of late."

Hypothetically

"Detective Lance, I don't understand what the problem is." Nelson Ravich looked remarkably calm, staring back at him at his desk. You'd almost think that the Hood hadn't come by and robbed him for $70 million.

Well, not 'robbed'. Robin Hooded him, Quentin supposed, but that wasn't any better. Just because no one ended up in the hospital or the morgue this time didn't change anything.

"You returned $70 million dollars you embezzled from your clients for nothing?"

"I embezzled nothing, Detective, and I'd be very careful about what allegations you made." Ravich wasn't as much of a bottom feeder as Adam Hunt, who was currently awaiting trial, rotting in a cell and dragging the process out as much as he could, but he was damn close. Smug, smarmy, flanked by lawyers who made more in an hour than Quentin made in a week, probably.

"So what... that was just a... gift?"

"A settlement, Detective. My clients complaints against me were a result of bookkeeping and transfer errors, both of which my firm have been hard at correcting over the last few months, since it came to light. Last night, we finished tracking it all down, and processing it for return." Ravich spread his hands a little, raising an eyebrow.

"Along with drawing up the legal forms saying they couldn't sue if they accepted their money back." Bastard had an answer for everything. But Quentin wasn't here for this - he didn't mourn the man being forced to return his ill-gotten gains, but there was a system for that. The courts. The police. Justice. Not some fucking nutcase running around in a green hood.

"I'm pretty sure the SCPD has all sorts of forms they can make people sign to prevent the department from being sued, how is this any different?" Ravich clasped his hands together, sitting forward. "We both know why you're here, Detective, and it's not about the entirely false charges against me."

"We had multiple 911 calls last night, from your staff and from other businesses in the building that a man with a bow and arrow and a green hood was here. That didn't have anything to do with your sudden decision to settle?" Quentin leaned in, "I don't give a damn about you covering your slimy ass for your embezzlement, but I am going to catch this vigilante, so it is in your best interests to tell me everything you know."

"Is that a threat, Detective Lance?"

"You really think this vigilante is gonna be happy with what you did? From the calls we got, you practically ordered your guards to stand down."

"I don't know what other people in the building were doing making that call, but the calls from my staff were the result of people getting understandably jumpy after a localized power outage in the offices." He shook his head, expression flat, unreadable. Well, to anyone else. Quentin could see it, the way his eyes scrunched a little, pupils dilating a little, the man's right hand twitching. Ravich was hiding something. But I can't enter my gut in as evidence, more's the pity. The streets of Starling City would be a lot safer if he could. "There was no vigilante here in the offices last night. You can ask my security people, they'll tell you the same."

I don't know what our new masked madman wants. But hypothetically?" Ravich shrugged, "The man is capable of chewing through armed guards like they're made of tissue paper, and hypothetically, I'm not sure I see the point of paying extensive workmans comp and settling deaths on the job payments to families, only to have to choose between death or acceding to his demands anyway. Hypothetically, it it came to my life, or $70 million, money's only money. I can always make more of that."

"Hypothetically, of course." Quentin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "And, hypothetically, is there anything you might notice about this guy, if you came to visit?"

"Hypothetically, I might notice he was short." Ravich offered. "I don't think he'd be the kind of person to stop and chat though."

"Right. And this is all hypothetical, so it doesn't matter, does it?" Quentin shook his head, scowling. "Next person this bastard kills is on you." He turned, ignoring Ravich's protestations - delivered calmly, but with just a hint of his voice wavering that there was nothing else he knew.

Son of a bitch could have said he needed time - Hunt got a day. Ravich could have asked for that, called us - we'd have been more prepared. But no. Bastard was more interested in covering his ass - cops come in to protect him, he can't destroy any evidence of his crime.

A plague on both your fucking houses. Quentin wasn't a fan of Skakespeare, or plays, or anything like that, but Dinah loved Romeo and Juliet, so they went to just about any performance of it they could, and he'd seen, with her most of the movie adaptations over the years. That bit did tend to stick with him. Too many of the deaths in this city were the result of criminals fighting other criminals, and now he had some nutbar who thought he was some sort of fairy tale hero or... whatever, going up against the scum of the city's one percent.

And I'm here trying to help the one percent. Because whatever else, this vigilante was worse.