Thorns in our roses

"I half expected to find you gone," Slade's voice carried all the way from the elevator.

Laurel looked up from her spot on the floor – two pizza boxes open, one half eaten, the other just started. She was sipping Cola from a bottle and had a laptop open. "That just didn't seem polite," she replied and nudged a pizza box in his direction. "Food?"

It was almost domestic. Except she was tethering on an edge and light conversation was her distraction – a nook that she was hanging on. And he was just coming from the Queens where he had made every effort to make Oliver regret ever having known him. But Slade had more of an insight into her thoughts than she did into his.

"Well, I'm certainly grateful for your manners," he replied and after a moment's thought dropped near her on the floor and grabbed a slice – completely unconcerned that his three-thousand-dollar suit was now rumpled and about to have a pepperoni stain.

Laurel graced him with a tight smile and her conversation seemed to run out. She stared blankly at the computer screen for a moment before gathering her thoughts, "Thank you for letting me stay last night."

"You're welcome, love," he replied easily, and a moment later made an effort to make her feel more at ease, "You made me dinner, I'd say we're even now."

Laurel did laugh. "If a take-out pizza is all it takes, you're easy to please," she said, and then, "I found the laptop on the desk. It wasn't locked and… I just needed to look something up. I didn't mean to snoop," she jostled the laptop in her lap, explaining herself. In hindsight it no longer seemed such a good idea to just… borrow it, but what she said was true – it had been in plain sight and open for use. And she… Well, she couldn't stand any more introspection. Not just right then.

"No worries, love. I left it out for you," he said, and that karmic slice of pepperoni dropped on the lapel of his suit jacket.

"Oh," she closed her open tabs and deleted her history. "You must think you know me very well," there was an edge in her voice.

"Not at all," he blinked and lied. She was Laurel Lance. Oliver Queen's love of life. He knew everything about her. "I just guessed you might need some distraction if you stuck around."

"Ah," she forced a smile, her ruffled feathers calming. "That's very thoughtful. I'm sorry. I'm just rather…," she struggled for the right word – tense? On the edge? Everything she might say seemed too ironic. "Thank you."

"You already said that," he noted. "You're welcome nonetheless, but do you always apologize so much?" he frowned and reached for napkins.

"It's called being polite," she frowned.

"There's polite and then there's you," Slade cleaned his hands. "Do you always think you owe everyone everything? Because you don't owe me anything yet. Me – being a decent human being or... a dashing hero, depending how you choose to look at it - is on me not on you."

Laurel froze – her bottle of cola halfway to her mouth. She put it back down. Slade's words had made an impact. "Well, decent human being that you are – thank you. And I think I should go."

Slade looked at her darkly and Laurel felt pinned to the spot. To her it seemed as if he was looking into her soul – judging what she meant by her few words. She dreaded a question from him. The same one she had been afraid of the night before. Will you try again? She was not ready to answer that.

She could hardly even admit to herself that last night's events had placed her on a different path than the headlong self-destruction one that she had been rushing down on. She couldn't resist exploring the newness that seemed to surround everything now, at least a little bit. But she also couldn't commit herself to anything yet.

She was still in a daze. In a bit of a shock. She could hardly believe that she had really been ready to do what she had almost done. She couldn't name it in her own mind. How could she make any promises now?

"As long as you're aware that you're welcome to stay, you're free to go," he finally said. He didn't think she'd try again. He'd seen people like her – dancing on the edge of abyss. He'd seen the look in eyes of those that would fall. He no longer saw it in hers. But he still made a mental note to send someone to watch her from a distance. He needed her alive. As dramatic and satisfying it would be to have Oliver experience losing the love of his life to suicide – it would just be a tragic coincidence. No way for Oliver to know that he deserved that pain because of Shado. That it was entirely his fault.

No, Slade needed Laurel Lance alive for now. Her death would not make the maximum impact on Queen at this moment. He had a whole plan, and she had almost ruined an essential part of it the previous night. He had almost missed how off she had been. He had almost not made it in time. Slade promised to himself that that would not happen again. He chided Oliver on not controlling his surroundings and he had nearly made the same mistake.

"Laurel?" he looked up, as she was already by the elevator. "Don't be a stranger."

A soft, half smile tugged at her lips. Elevator played a short jingle signifying opening doors. "I'll be seeing you around, Slade Wilson," she promised and disappeared into the elevator.

He waited until the flashing letters showed that she was on the ground floor before grabbing for the laptop. She may have deleted her search history, but there were a number of ways to retrieve it. It didn't even take him a long time, and when he had had a few moments to process the information… He laughed. "Oh, you're good as gold, love."

IKYWT

Oliver was running out of his house like a bat out of hell. And phoning Felicity at the same time. She picked up on the second ring and it seemed too late to him already. "Find me Laurel."

"Oliver?" Felicity felt a little confused. She had just helped Diggle get settled (and given up on trying to persuade him to take something for the headache he had), and…

"I've been calling her and she isn't picking up. Can you track her phone?" Oliver explained through nearly gritted teeth as he jumped into his car.

"Uhm, yes, of course," Felicity nearly jumped at his tone and run towards her computers. "Is something the matter? Because otherwise it doesn't seem… Well, it seems like a bit of an invasion of privacy, and I might not…"

"She's not picking up and Slade was just at my house. Just find her, Felicity."

"Yes, of course. Right," she initiated the ping on Laurel's phone and swiveled in her chair to look at Sara who was just putting away her weapons. "Sara's here, I think she should know."

"What should I know?" Sara asked looking up.

"Oh, wow, you have great hearing," Felicity felt like a deer caught in headlights.

"Felicity," Oliver barked on the other end of the phone.

"Yes, yes!" she turned just as the computer beeped. There were no results. "I'm sorry. Uhm, her phone must be turned off. Should I try…" she didn't wait for Oliver to growl at her again, "I'll try traffic cameras around her apartment. I'm sure everything is fine. Maybe she's with her parents?"

"What is going on?" Sara loomed over Felicity's shoulder.

Felicity swallowed hard. It wasn't that she was afraid of Oliver or Sara, but it was a bit disconcerting to be surrounded (and having Oliver in her ear, that is at the other end of the phone) by two demanding super-hero, assassin… ish people. "Oliver is worried about Laurel. Her phone is turned off. Could she be with your father? Or mom? I'm sure it's nothing," Felicity certainly hoped so.

"No, mom went back to Central City this morning. I'll call dad," Sara was all business, but the worried crease in her forehead told Felicity that she was rattled.

"Oliver, Sara will…"

"I heard."

"Uhm, ok. Are you coming here or are you…?"

"I'm going to swing by her apartment. Let me know if you find something," and he dropped the call.

It hadn't occurred to him that Slade might want to go after Laurel. Laurel was… Laurel. And while Oliver hadn't had a long time to grasp the fact that Slade had returned, that he was behind the latest disasters in Starling city, well… Oliver didn't think that without Thea raising alarm, he would have thought of it for a while yet.

His previous enemies had known to target Laurel, because she worked with the Hood, because she was important to Oliver – they had guessed, and correctly, that he would do anything for her, but Slade… Slade knew him better than any of those, and because of that Oliver wouldn't have imagined him going after Laurel. Slade knew how Laurel was what got Oliver through the island. Slade knew that… She was supposed to be off limits. Sacred. Some things just were untouchable. Slade had family in Australia. Oliver had Laurel.

He punched his steering wheel when he had to stop for a red light. "You're going to regret ever having made it off the Lian Yu if one hair falls off of her head," he muttered angrily.

He felt like a barrel of gunpowder waiting to explode. He had told Laurel that he was done running after her, but those were just words. Words said in anger. Oliver was not very good with thinking through situations. He reacted – first and foremost and no amount of physical training or traumatic torture had taught him how to pace himself emotionally. If anything – it all had just exacerbated his tendency for self-sabotage and destruction.

And when Laurel had blamed him… When she had finally said the words that he'd been waiting to hear from her for years. He couldn't take it. He'd known for years that she was too good for him. And he'd waited for years to see – what would be enough? How far could he fall, how much could he disappoint her until she had enough. He'd been spinning on the edge of that blade for years (even from before the island) – how he needed her, and how he felt he'd never be enough for her. His money couldn't buy her love, and he was convinced he had nothing else of substance to offer. How could he possibly please her?

And then – after everything, he had finally heard it from her lips… He was at fault. She finally said it. His heart beat painfully in his chest. His last words to her wouldn't be that he was done with her.

Her apartment was locked, and when he sneaked in by the window – empty. Dinah had cleaned up before leaving, but otherwise it was untouched. And then Felicity called to tell him, that there had been no activity around the apartment since Laurel walked out the night before. And Sara informed him that their father had had no contact with Laurel either.

Oliver felt dizzy as he ordered Felicity to retrace Laurel's steps that night, and left for Verdant.