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Diggle watches as Oliver paces the foundry. He knew Oliver would ask him this the moment Oliver deliberately went out of his way to make sure they interacted with Thea and Stiles. If he’s honest he doesn’t mind the kid. Stiles reminds him a lot of Felicity but he knows that’s not what Oliver wants to hear.
“He’s vigilant,” He offers, cleaning his gun. “He’s been Thea’s friend for the past six years and he still looks for the exits as soon as he walks into a room in your house. That’s not normal behavior. He could have picked up some skills from his father but I don’t think that’s it. Stiles is smart too, we need to watch out for that. I don’t think he has ulterior motives about Thea, though.”
“There’s just something about him.”
Diggle raises his eyebrows. “Like how there’s something about you? Somehow I don’t think Stiles is a bow wielding vigilante in his spare time. He doesn’t have the co-ordination. Of course he could be acting but it would take a lot of effort to act that uncoordinated all the time.”
But Oliver is right, there’s something about Stiles. Diggle wouldn’t say that he’s harmless except for the fact that he exudes unchecked excitement and endearing awkwardness when he’s around Thea. The kid doesn’t have a mouth filter and Diggle has watched Stiles’ eyes track over him as if to take inventory of possible hidden weapons. Diggle needs to know why but short of asking him it’s not something he’s going to find out any time soon. It’s almost kind of like hyper vigilance and Diggle doesn’t know how to explain it to someone who doesn’t understand. Stiles isn’t harmless, there’s something there, but he also knows that he wouldn’t hurt Thea.
“Raisa likes him.” Oliver admits.
“I like Stiles,” Felicity taps away at her tablet. “He’s nice and I don’t know if you’ve noticed Oliver, but people aren’t really that nice to people like Dig and I. I mean it’s not that they’re rude, well some of them really are, but there’s people like Gorgeous Laurel who just ignore us because we aren’t as important as people like you. And then there’s people like your mother, who I’m pretty sure really doesn’t like me, and they treat us like the help. I am not the help. I graduated MIT early at the top of my class. I can hack into the FBI database before I get out of bed in the morning. Diggle has been to war. When we walk into a room we deserve just as much respect as you do Oliver,” Felicity’s voice goes soft. “And I like that when Stiles looks at us, he sees that there isn’t a difference.”
Diggle smiles when Felicity finishes her speech. If there is anyone who can convince Oliver of Stiles’ merits it is Felicity. For all Oliver’s strengths, Felicity is always going to be something of a weakness. She makes Oliver better, makes him accountable for his actions in a way that doesn’t condemn Oliver for putting on his hood every night. It’s like she is his conscience and Diggle doesn’t know how she does it. All he has to do is follow Oliver around and play the part of Oliver Queen’s Black Driver. She actually has to be in charge of all things Oliver while Isabel Rochev acts like, well, Isabel Rochev and Laurel walks all over her. The only thing that makes Felicity’s job easier is that Oliver doesn’t like disappointing Felicity and Diggle isn’t going to lie that he’s thought about using Felicity to push Oliver about issues they don’t agree on.
“I’ll talk to Laurel.” Oliver promises.
Felicity sighs. “Oliver-”
“Fe-li-ci-ty.”
Diggle knows it’s time to back away when Oliver says her name like that. He doesn’t even bother to give an excuse or tell them that he’s leaving as he walks up the stairs of the foundry. It’s not like they’ll notice anyway.