Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mystery Inc. was Felicity’s brainchild. She was the driving force behind the small private investigative firm, whose motto could easily be ‘Have Mystery, Will Travel’ but in actuality was ‘Mysteries Need Solving’ – the actual quote behind the modified slogan crossed her lips in a conversation with him during their youthful days at summer science camp. “I hate mysteries. They bug me. They need to be solved.”

It was during those formative years, bouncing ideas and theories off of each other, that Felicity Smoak claimed him as the first of her boys. He was her general science tech and instead of sticking around Central City working forensic for the CCPD and watching his childhood crush and love of his life date another, Barry allowed her to talk him into joining her little endeavor. She was the driving force and glue that held their eclectic team together. None of it would work without her, they all knew that, because as much as he’d come to like and admire the other members of their team Barry knew there was no way he would have befriended any of them on their own. He was that rare variety that Iris called “adorable nerd” and while he could blend into most crowds, he always felt more comfortable amongst his own. And really, that came in handy when he needed to pull in Cisco, Ronnie or Caitlin for an emergency long-distance consult. Their specialties were all different, but geek was their common language.

The same could not be said for John Diggle – Broad-Shouldered Security, Roy Harper – Sarcastic Bandit, and Oliver Queen – Moneybag Charm, as he labelled them upon their first meeting. He didn’t know the exact stories about how Felicity first met each of them and made them her own, which was the only thing they really had in common in the beginning. In their own ways they each belonged to her and filled a role on her mystery solving team. He was the best friend, able to process evidence and help her follow leads. Dig, as Barry called him out loud because he had no desire to anger the giant specimen of manhood who could easily break him in half was a protective older brother. Emphasis on protective and as a trained Special Forces soldier John Diggle could take on any threat and was responsible for keeping them in line. No easy feat when he had a reformed criminal “practical knowledge and street smarts, that’s a combination we need,” Felicity said of the man-child that she clearly saw as younger brother for her to keep on the straight and narrow; and a semi-reformed playboy billionaire to keep tabs on. Oliver was funding the operation until it could do so itself and used his debonair looks and breezy charm when necessary – basically he worked the physical evidence and Oliver handled witnesses, especially if they were women because they seemed to fall at his feet.

Not that Felicity had, though with the looks and touches, Barry was beginning to wonder if it was only a matter of time. He wasn’t exactly jealous, though he’d been on the receiving end of enough glares and eye rolls from Oliver to speculate that the other man might be. He loved Felicity, in the way he probably should have learned to love Iris growing up sharing a house and father (figure for him), but never had. But he was fairly certain he’d fallen in love with Iris West when they met each other as five-year-olds in kindergarten. His own personal tragedy and change in living situation could not alter that fact, nor could her obvious lack of romantic regards towards him. That became clear when Iris tried to set him up with Felicity, who was more his sister in his mind, then Iris ever would be.

So he packed his bag, jumped in the vintage blue and green van with his best friend and three virtual strangers – because name drops and slight details over Skype sessions with Felicity didn’t really count as knowing them – to solve mysteries. The Mystery Machine as she and Roy liked to call the vehicle, which caused Oliver frown each time and Dig to chuckle, felt a tad small for five grown people. Especially since Moneybag Charm was just slightly smaller than Broad-Shouldered Security and Sarcastic Bandit had a similar, but sadly more muscular, lanky frame like his own. Felicity had the advantage of being tiny, with gently padded curves that contended better with the stiff seats of the van. If wasn’t for her bright chatter, infectious smile and overly determined nature Barry was certain this grand experiment would not have lasted the two and half day drive to their first case.

He wasn’t sure how Felicity found the case or talked them into investigating it, but the professor in residence of the County Museum, Jameson Hyde-White, was expecting them. Though it did not occur every full moon, three times in past five months one of the museum's main attractions in their medieval display, an ancient black suit of armor originally from England, disappeared. It was always found again – eventually – usually in an abandoned car, the drivers having vanished.

With people missing and security increased there was talk of sending the armor back to England, the only thing that had prevented that action was the fact that the museum’s curator, Mr. Wickles, loathed to lose what he saw as one of his biggest draws. Professor Hyde-White thought the man’s fear of the museum being adversely affected was a bit of a stretch, but had held off on making the transfer because he understood that losing a popular piece was a valid concern. Barry wasn’t certain what the biggest draw to the case was for Felicity: the supernatural element, wanting to save a museum, or wanting to find three missing people. The ghostly aspect would have touched on her obsession with Sherlock Holms; their favorite detective always seemed tied up in some Hound of the Baskerville-esque paranormally bent case. As a geek in her own right, one with a technological bent who’d earned an early master’s degree from MIT in computer science and cyber security, his friend loved learning and places that facilitated it; saving a museum for her would be like faithful believes keeping a dwindling population church open. Having both lost parents, Felicity’s father had just walked out one day never to return, no explanation given while he’d lost one parent to death and the other to jail; tough Barry never doubted his father’s innocence in mother’s murder. They both knew what it was like to have people missing who should be there and he knew being able to find that answer for others was probably the thing that made her gravitate towards this case the most.

Traffic had prevented them from arriving the afternoon of the full moon as planned and when they got to the museum early that evening Professor Hyde-White had vanished along with the armor. It had taken a bit of convincing but Mr. Wickles finally agreed to let them investigate. Felicity and Dig had gone off to review the museum’s security, while he went to examine the scene in the medieval room for clues, leaving Roy and Oliver to search for the professor. The only thing he found out of place was a specialized pair of magnifying glasses that tended to be used by jewelers, scientists and archaeologists. The specks were tucked behind a bench right outside the entrance of the medieval room and had Professor Hyde-White’s name engraved on them.

He’d been writing up notes on his findings when Roy and Oliver brought the review of the security system to a halt by returning with the missing the amour. “We found an abandon pickup and it was in the back,” Roy reported proudly as he thrust open the backdoors of the van to reveal a box that had pieces of the suit sticking up out of it. Diggle shook his head while Felicity let out a groan. “Did you call the police?”

“No.”

“So you took evidence from a crime scene without reporting it?” Dig asked slowly, his face hard, indicating his annoyance at the two men.

The younger man’s aquamarine eyes skittered to Oliver who had winched at the question. “Yes.”

“You two are not allowed out by yourselves again. I’ll deal with the locals, you should let Wickles know that the museum’s property has been found,” Dig told Felicity. She nodded, threw Roy and Oliver a disappointed and exasperated look, before turning to head back into the building. “Allen, keep an eye on these two so they don’t screw up again.”

“Yay babysitting,” he muttered earning hard glares from his charges.

***

“Is this really happening? Like actually happening?” Barry asked as he struggled to pull puffs of air in and out of lungs as he fought to catch his breath. Hunched over beside him Roy gazed up, shooting him a ‘how are words even coming out of your mouth’ look as he too gulped in air. They’d been chased by the same dark armor that had drawn them to investigate in the first place. He would have been more embarrassed about running away from a sword wielding knight and losing one of his so-called charges if Roy and Oliver hadn’t sprinted from the jumbling mass of metal with him.

They’d been too busy running, sword swishing behind them and the clattering sound of old metal clanking, to coordinate their escape plan so when the corridor T-ed, he and Roy had gone right and Oliver left. With their pursuer steps behind them Oliver waved them on and they had little choice but to separate. The knight had followed them as they weaved in and out of the various display rooms until they got to a stairwell. Roy had dragged him up the steps and the groaning sounds of metal had not followed, allowing them a moment to finally catch their breath.

“Where’s the cavalry?” Roy questioned breaking the relative silence of their harsh breathing.

His brow drew together. “What do you mean?”

Roy shook his head, the action clearly signaling his frustration that he was seeing something Barry hadn’t. “After Felicity smoothed out Wickles’s ruffled feathers she said she was going back to the security system.”

“She should be seeing this,” Barry said quickly piecing together what Roy had already figured out. “She would have sounded the alarm.”

“Right, and since the sword welding maniac was following us and not Oliver, Dig would have headed our way. So where is he?” Roy queried.

Barry couldn’t help the sliver of bone deep concern that pulsed through him. John Diggle was the one responsible for keeping them safe, if he hadn’t come it could only mean two things: 1. he was unable to and anything that could prevent a well-trained and determined ex-solider from performing his duty was something to worry over – so Barry really didn’t like that option – or 2. their teammates had no idea what was happening, meaning there was something very wrong with the security system. Something that Felicity had yet to figure out. Trusting in her ability he knew it was only a matter of time, so without their phones – and he knew they’d never hear the end of using their only means of communication as projectile weapons against a knight (seriously how pointless had that been?) – they either had to get to the security room and fill her in or keep out of sight of the knight long enough for rescue.

He laid out option two for Roy, Barry knew the kid was smart enough to figure out option one, but dwelling on that possibility would do them little good. It was better to focus on what they could control, which turned out to be very little because twenty minutes later when they finally managed to get through the museum unnoticed by the knight they found the security control room empty.

After a short bickering session, where Barry reminded Roy that Diggle had left him in charge, “Bang up job you’re doing,” he’d grumbled, they were once again traipsing through the museum looking for their missing cohorts. A not so whispered argument during their search drew them down towards the last display room in a hallway that ended with a cordoned off ‘Museum Employees Only’ doorway.

Recognizing the voices the tension began to ease from his stance. “That painting was missing,” Barry heard Oliver insist as he and Roy neared the doorway. Diggle stood prone inside it, keeping a watchful eye. Upon seeing them he grunted a greeting while Oliver and Felicity continued to squabble about the fact that there was a painting on the wall now when it hadn’t been there earlier. He was considering stepping in, because a reappearing painting was the least of their worries, when Roy nudged him. When he glanced over at the younger man Roy jutted his chin towards the floor. Even in the dim lighting the drop of navy paint stood out against the creamy marble of the floor.

Roy extended his arm out and Barry followed the line of sight, finding another drop a few feet down the hallway. He hadn’t noticed the paint on their trek down the corridor, his attention had been focused on the voices they heard and keeping an eye out for an armed and dangerous knight. His eyes quickly drifted back towards the painting in question – a fierce seascape, one that had a fair amount of navy used in it to accentuate the threatening waves – Barry wasn’t sure if was the faint lighting in the room or not, but the paint seemed wet.

He walked right through the narrow space separating Oliver and Felicity, stopping their argument, and touched the painting. “Barry!” Felicity hissed, expressing both her surprise and annoyance at his action. Ignoring her tone he pulled back his fingers and found the two he’d touched to the painting had come away with color on them. He stepped back in between his teammates, his hand raised so that Felicity could see the paint transfer to his thumb when he touched it to his index and middle fingers. “It’s fresh,” he informed her.

“A forgery?” Oliver asked, just as Roy said, “There’s a trail.” Felicity started towards Roy, to follow the track he’d found. Barry thought about stopping her, he wanted to explain about the security system, but Roy had already started back down the hallway with Diggle on his heels. Not wanting the group to be separated again he relented and followed along behind Oliver, who’d stepped in between him and Felicity.

The spots of paint led them to the tiny Egyptology room which was mostly murals haphazardly scrawled on the walls with hieroglyphics so that a decaying and unimportant in grand historical significance sarcophagus could be displayed. There was a gap between the back wall of the room and the sarcophagus. Since Felicity was the smallest she squeezed into area, where she found another paint droplet which she said seemed to disappear beneath the wall. Diggle reached over the artifact and Felicity to tap on the wall. As a faint echo sounded she breathed out, “There’s a door.”

She ran her fingers along the wall looking for a latch, while Oliver and Dig pushed on the base that held the sarcophagus attempting to generate additional space between it and the wall. Once they had created enough room Barry stepped behind Felicity. “We should try pushing,” he suggested, placing his hands next to hers.

Years of exploring and working together at camp fell into place as she counted down quietly. “Three, two, one …” they pressed forward and there was a hiss as the door moved backwards and then drifted slightly to the right. Felicity ducked out from between his arms so he could push the door completely to the side. When he looked back at the group he found Roy and Felicity’s eyes alight with excitement, Dig looking intrigued but apprehensive, while Oliver just looked irritated.

“We’re living Goonies!” Roy exclaimed he shared an exhilarated grin with Felicity before stepping into the hidden passageway.

Diggle’s jaw flexed as he prevented Felicity from following straightaway. “This isn’t a game and he’ll treat it like one as long as you do.” She blinked up at him, her wide smile faltering. Knowing she got his message Dig followed along behind Roy. Barry offered her a reassuring pat on her shoulder, before ducking down the hallway. Their footsteps echoed down the passage which ended in an open doorway to a circular room that was filled with finished and unfinished paintings, some which he’d remembered seeing on the walls of the museum.

“This isn’t a haunting, curse or whatever term you were bantering about earlier,” Diggle declared as they all moved about the room taking it in, “it is a theft and forgery ring.”

***

Hours later they stood together outside as dawn broken over the museum. The warm magenta and golden hues struggled to cut through the harsh rotating lights of the police vehicles (three squad cars, an undercover sedan, and a SWAT van) that had been strategically parked in front of the County Museum. Drooping from the crash of his adrenaline rush, Barry watched as the cuffed curator, Mr. Wickles, who they’d had unmasked as the knight after an unfortunate incident with a World War biplane that left a number of relics smashed beyond repair, was led to one of the vehicles.

A through search of the premises by the police while they’d been giving their statement had turned up a bound Professor Hyde-White hidden within one of the Indian effigies. As Wickles was led away the professor joined them. After quick introductions, he expressed his gratitude for their assistance before stating in a somewhat befuddled manner that, “Monologuing is a real thing. I mean, I thought it only happened in fiction, but after Wickles captured me he went on and on about his smuggling ring. About how he stole and replaced the paintings and was beginning to fear that I had noticed the fakes. Hence the whole black knight thing to distract me.”

As he finished his own soliloquy the professor weaved and stumbled into him. As he steadied the man Barry noticed how pale and worn he was from the experience and he wondered idly if he looked as bad. Though he hated to press anyone in his condition he asked because he knew the question was still on Felicity’s mind. “Did he mention the other missing people?”

“No one is really missing,” he answered rubbing his eyes. “They were a part of the ring and disappeared as a means to sell the idea of the armor being cursed.”

Out of the corner of his eye Barry saw Felicity’s relax into Diggle’s side at the words. The giant wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, “I think we’ve earned our rest,” he commented leading Felicity towards the van.

“Need a ride Professor?” Barry asked as Roy and Oliver followed behind them.

“We’ve got him,” a police officer said coming to stand on the opposite side of the professor. Based on his time with the CCPD he took the pretty, raven-haired patrolwoman as new a cadet. She took hold of the professor’s elbow, “Good work,” she offered with a smile as she steered her charge towards one of the remaining patrol cars.

Barry stood a moment, admiring the view of her uniformed retreating form. His quiet enjoyment was broken when Roy shouted, “Stop drooling and get your ass to the van!”

Chapter Text

Roy knew about the nicknames Barry Allen had for each male member of the team. In fact, he knew a lot. Probably more than anyone but Felicity realized. He had a way of hiding in the shadows, ears and eyes at the ready, to pick up bits of information. Not everything was useful, but Felicity had drilled into him that knowledge was power. It took a while for him to learn the truth of that but once he had he’d become a loyal convert.

It probably also helped that Felicity offered him her spare room whenever things at home got too tense. She did the nurturing thing without actually being overtly motherly or nosy. “I can’t cook to save my own life. I’ll supply the ingredients, you cook – please tell me you can cook – and we’ll call it square.” His skill had been limited, but better than hers, which he found kind of pathetic, but they worked arrangements out like that. She had sole responsibility for coffee because she didn’t trust anyone else to make it strong, but not bitter how she liked it and since it was the best coffee he’d ever tasted he only razzed her about it for a week. Felicity did the laundry, “No way you’re touching my unmentionables,” and while the idea of her hands on his underwear made him squirm a bit, he’d run the vacuum or give the bathroom a quick clean whenever his clothes mixed with hers. He had to sit through pop culture lessons for the room, but he mostly enjoyed it as he learned geeky didn’t necessarily mean bad. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud to her.

Roy knew that Diggle was aware of the fact that Barry nicknamed them. Though he was fairly certain that the oldest member of their diverse team did not know what his name was – Broad-Shouldered Security. He didn’t think the generally easygoing ex-solider would be offended by it. Oliver, however, was clueless and undoubtedly would not appreciate the name Barry coined for him. Which was not a surprise as Moneybag Charm was too busy making heart-eyes at Felicity to pay attention to the people and things around him unless absolutely necessary, even though he tried to play it off like that was not the case. But Roy knew whipped when he saw it.

Not that Felicity was great at hiding her own interest when it came to the movie-star looks billionaire. At first Roy thought she was too smart to do more than enjoy the pretty face, but the more he was around them, he’d come to realize that she had no sense of her own appeal. The soft eyes, the reverent way Oliver said her name, the little ways he found to touch her – Felicity took that for who he was, when the rest of them knew differently. When Oliver flirted for information he was smooth, his pearly white smile blinding his targets to the lack of interest in his eyes. That was never the case when their favorite blonde was involved, not that she realized it.

While it was fun watching Oliver suffer, Roy hadn’t decided what to do when Blondie – Barry wasn’t the only one with an affinity for nicknames – finally wised up and took notice of the fact that her unrequited crush on the man was not one-sided. He knew a person was more than their past, he was the not so shining example of that fact, but he was still undecided on whether not he could trust the man with his girl’s heart. Not that Felicity was his girl, she was just … well, if his parents hadn’t given him a negative connotation of family, Roy would call her that. And friend didn’t do her justice; she was his and a girl, so she was his girl.

She was also his boss. The boss he managed to sweet-talk into having a day of fun at Rocky Point Beach. He knew Oliver had only championed the idea to get a look at Felicity in a swimsuit, while Barry and Dig liked the thought of not spending another day crammed in the van driving. Facing four against one odds the tiny blonde relented and they were off to enjoy sun and surf. At least that had been the plan until a ghostly figure of a diver had risen out of the surf chasing away the other beach goers. In the chaos of screams and people dashing around to collect their belongings before hightailing to safety the figure vanished taking with him their relaxing day at the beach because now they had something to investigate.

While he weaved in and out of the crowd listening in on conversations, Oliver worked his charm. From their efforts they were able to suss out the most likely direction which the figure headed, down towards the pier, before it disappeared from the remaining crowd’s sight. After the rest of the group changed out of their beachwear with him grumbling the whole time – it was one thing to look into the incident while they got to stay on the beach, losing out on their day of fun was another – they were in the van headed to the pier. He couldn’t argue with a decree when it came from on high (aka Felicity) so Roy had merely thrown a t-shirt over his bright red swim trucks as his form of protest and constant reminder to his teammates that they could be having sand and sea fun and not chasing after a phantom figure.

After forty-five minutes of talking with tourists and townies they came away with the consensus that no one on the pier had seen the figure on the beach. Roy was intent on talking Felicity out of Sherlock mode and back into relaxation when the loud call of a local fisherman offering rides on his boat wove a tale of sunken ship and a witch’s curse that included an undead captain who still sailed the briny depths and stole ships to sell tickets. The hour and half cruise was a hunt for the missing ships underwater graveyard and seeing how it piqued Felicity’s interest he groaned, “This is not a lead.”

Felicity had felt otherwise so instead of returning to their day of ease on the beach the gang found themselves taking a boat ride. A very unsuccessful ride, surprise surprise, as no shipwrecked burial ground had been found so far and they were twenty minutes from docking. The only enjoyable thing about being trapped on the boat was watching Oliver turn green and hang over the side as the choppy waters got the better of his constitution. At every lurch he groaned and Roy snickered in amusement. Even Felicity’s disapproving glare as she rubbed his back didn’t stop his enjoyment of seeing the seemingly always put together Oliver Queen not perfect.

“You know that green gills over there is the only thing saving you from her loud voice right now,” Diggle commented as he came to stand beside him. His dark eyes were scanning the seabed looking for any sign of wrecked ships.

“I know,” he answered resting his arms on the railing and leaning over, giving the impression that he was studiously scrutinizing the water the boat sliced through.

“I suspect you know to fear it more than most.”

Roy let lose a snort and looked up at the older man, who stood braced on the deck of the ship. “I do, but I have a ‘get out of jail free card’ to play.” Diggle’s brows drew together as he examined his face. While Oliver had been arguing that he’d be more useful back on land talking to folks and Barry had been busying questioning the ship’s small crew, he’d found the stash of old newspapers amongst the things the hawker had stored in the makeshift podium he’d spoken from. The articles quoted Ebenezer Shark, a local beach hermit, who blamed the disappearances on the ghost of a Captain Cutler. He didn’t buy another ghost story but at least this one left out witchcraft and curses and was much more recent – the man died about six months ago, shortly before the recent thefts and not hundreds of years as the fisherman professed in his tale, when his boat was rammed and sunk by a yacht. Dollars to doughnuts there was a more likely connection between Captain Cutler and the ghostly figure they saw today than a long forgotten sea captain. Once he played that ace, Felicity would be too caught up in following the lead to use her loud voice on him.

Dig patted him on his shoulder. “Hope it’s a good one,” he said before walking to the other side of the boat to continue his perusal of the ocean waters.

***

If you looked up the definition of crazy old man in the dictionary Roy was certain you’d find a picture of Ebenezer Shark. He had a question-mark spine, which gave him a Quasimodo appearance, to go with wiry grey hairs that shot out of his ears, which were the only hairs he had on his head. His voice was scratchy from misuse and he grinned a gummy smile every chance he got at Felicity, his slightly foggy hazel eyes twinkling. Oliver hovered protectively over her while Barry was distracted by the amount of clutter in the man’s living quarters, one he’d claimed within a damp and rocky fissure along the Rocky Pointe Beach shore. Diggle was trying to keep the conversation on track as Shark kept trying to flirt with Felicity, he’d already promised to clean out a section of the cave so that she could move in with him, so like Barry, he found himself shifting through the plies of junk as the man told his circularous tale of missing ships.

As he explored deeper into the cave voices echoed and Roy found himself distracted by a shimmering reflection. He was so caught up in trying to figure out what was causing it that he wasn’t playing attention to the minefield he was walking through. His foot got hooked on something, he’d never be sure what, and it tripped him as he tried to move forward. He threw out his arms, trying to stop his momentum to the ground but the piles of junk were unstable and crumbled beneath him. The loud crash resonated throughout the cavern before he heard the startled and distressed squawk of Shark.

The sound of stampeding feet pounded his way as he focused in on the familiar sight of a vintage diver’s suit. It had been unearthed during his tumble. He was reaching forward to clear it off, so his team could actually see it through the press of junk when he felt Shark clawing at his back. The shut-in pulled him up and away from his things, before Roy could determine with any certainty that it was same suit they’d seen earlier on the beach.

He found himself thrust back into the solid muscular form of John Diggle as Shark flailed his arms and pushed them towards the exit of his crude home. “You’re not welcome here anymore,” he yelled. “Not even the pretty lady.” He kept repeating those words as he chased them back. Felicity tried to soothe him, but Shark continued to shove them to the mouth of the cave. As he yanked on the burlap tarp he used as a door he growled, “Don’t come back.”

As they were backed all the way out of the cave Diggle grabbed him by the back of his neck. “Way to go Harper,” he scolded, forcibly steering him along towards the van as he explained his discovery.

“I highly doubt that he’s the one stealing boats, but he could very well be the one we saw the beach.” As he said this Dig released him. “It be the perfect way to keep folks from getting too close to his home.” Felicity stared down the length of the coastline and Roy followed her gaze. He estimated that they were three maybe four football fields in length from the furthest outliers of where the Rocky Pointe beachgoers had been setup. He could see Shark viewing them as infringing on his territory and scaring them off.

“We need to talk to Cutler’s widow and keep an eye Shark,” Felicity murmured. “You’re probably right about him,” she informed Dig, meeting his eye, “but we can’t take any chances.”

“He’s got a mean streak,” the ex-solider agreed. “It’s probably best to keep him from seeing Roy again, so take him and Oliver to talk to the widow and Barry and I will sit on Shark.”

***

He thought a grieving widow would be immune to Oliver Queen’s charm. He’d been wrong, very wrong. The cross redhead had suddenly brighten upon seeing him and her terse greeting had been replaced with a warm smile and the offer of tea and cookies. He and Felicity sat back while Moneybag Charm worked his mojo and the woman happily spilled her tale of woe, delighted to have his full attention. Frankly it was relief to finally be able to escape Mrs. Cutler’s home.

He was in such a rush to get away from the scent of overly sweet flowery potpourri that Roy nearly missed the strip of luminescent green that was a vastly different shade then the rest of the neglected yard. Roy scooped it up and asked, “Is this seaweed?” He held out the wilting and sour smelling fauna.

Felicity fingered it. “I think so, but we should have Barry take a look at it to be certain.”

They swung back around to Shark’s domain were Barry used the back floor of the van as a table to setup the streamline laboratory equipment they travelled with for more extensive evidence processing. Always interested in learning more, Roy watched Barry’s procedure for handling and examining the possible clue while Oliver filled in Diggle on the exchange they had with the captain’s widow.

“That’s interesting,” Barry remarked as he gazed at a slice of the leaf in his microscope.

“What is?” he asked.

Barry shifted back from the equipment. “Take a look,” he instructed as he snagged Felicity’s tablet. Roy peered into the scope, but seeing the cellular level of the plant did not mean anything to him.

“It’s naturally bioluminescent,” the scientist explained as he speedread whatever he pulled up on the tablet. “And that’s even more interesting.”

“What is?” Felicity questioned, alerting Roy to the fact that she’d been simultaneously paying attention to what Barry had been doing while adding her own impression to Oliver’s report.

“There is only one place this stuff grows in this area,” Barry informed the team. “In a cove not far from here.”

Before Roy could ask if their earlier tour had taken them anywhere near there Oliver, face and voice petulant said, "I'm not getting on another boat. You can’t make me!" It took everything in Roy to school his reaction; with no more trump cards to play he knew laughing would garner him that loud voice he’d escaped earlier.

“Trust me, we all want to avoid reliving that,” Diggle assured him. Based on the intel they gathered their tactical leader decided that both Ms. Cutler and Shark needed watching. Diggle assigned widow duty to Felicity, leaving Shark to Oliver after he was assured by Barry that they’d be searching new waters. That left the rest of them to rent a boat and explore the area Barry had highlighted on the maritime map he’d pulled up.

The guy at the marina had given them a hassle about such a late afternoon rental. Diggle had to all but swear on the Bible that he could handle nighttime navigation and steering should it come to it. It slowed the process down by fifteen minutes and Roy wondered if the guy was hoping they’d get caught in the dark for some nefarious purpose. The boat they were renting wasn’t big or grand enough to be bait to be stolen. Maybe the guy was just hoping they wreck it so his insurance would replace it.

Once they were finally aboard the motorboat Barry punched the coordinates into the GPS before Diggle piloted them out into open water and down the coastline. The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky as they pulled into the cove. The glinting light off the water made it difficult to gaze through the greenish-blue depths but fortuitously a puffy cloud rolled over a large chuck of the setting orb and once the glare was off the water they could make out a graveyard of ship pieces. Most the pieces were older style ships, but it seemed like the whole of Rocky Pointe used the cove as some sort of boat dump yard.

When the full light of the sun crept back over the waters the pinkish hues fractured off the stone cliffs and illuminated a mouth of a cave. “Look,” he shouted pointing towards the cavernous entrance.

After his companions caught sight of the cave Diggle remarked, “Hope you boys are up for a swim,” as he removed his jacket.

***

The winding path through the hidden cave seemed to go on forever as Roy shivered in the colder air held between juts of rock. When the narrow pathway finally opened up into a wide, shallow hidden cove within a cove they found a handful of yachts in various stages of being painted. One of the boats, midway through being repainted, had the name Gambit scrawled across its stern. From the newspaper articles he read Roy recalled that particular boat had been stolen just last week.

Examining the area, Barry made note of another passage across the water. From their vantage it looked like the pathway inclined up further into the cliff. Within the darkened corridor the glow of the seaweed reflected. Someone had walked that path, Barry judged recently, based on the intense luminosity the seaweed was still giving off. “Just tell me that we don’t have to swim to that side,” Roy begged of Diggle.

“It’s narrow, but we should be able to walk the ledge,” he replied.

Their progress was slow as both the soles of their shoes and the surface of the rocks were slick. Diggle walked between them and had to catch both he and Barry when their steps skidded. Nosing over the edge for a second time Roy had never been as grateful for the surefooted giant. “Just keep moving,” Diggle instructed causing Roy to huff under his breath as he thought of the saying repeated by the quirky blue fish from the Disney movie Felicity had insisted they watched the night before they left on their grand investigating adventures.

The trek upwards, though longer, took less time and when they finally broke through to the surface they found themselves back near Cutler’s house. Dusk was settling into night when Felicity raced up to them, panting in relief as she told them that, “Oliver is on is way. I called him when I saw the diver head into the house and couldn’t get ahold of you.” Roy broke in to explain that they’d had left their phones on the boat so they wouldn’t be destroyed during their swim. Her patience to listen to their discovery was nonexistent because she butted in with her news, “The captain – Captain Butler – is alive. I snuck a peek in the window and Mrs. Cutler was helping the figure remove the helmet and it was him.”

Piecing together Felicity’s news with their findings Roy put the scheme into words. “They’re using the legend to steal, repaint, and probably sell the stolen yachts. There are still a couple of them in the process of being painting in that hidden cavern we found,” he informed Felicity, spurring her to pull out her cell to call their finding into the police.

Chapter Text

Boats – three, Oliver Queen – zero. Knowing that stat he could not say what possessed him to give a boat another run at him or why he thought he’d get through the evening ride unscathed. Roy had framed the excursion as a team bonding experience and while everyone agreed he could beg off – no one wanted for to him turn green again, he’d refused because of ego and the chance to spend more time with Felicity. Why he believed it would end any differently than them running aground on Haunted Isle, the home of Vasquez Castle, a rumored pirate fortress of old off the coast due to the fog, he could not say. Usually he wasn’t that much of an optimist, but luck had to change sometime. Sometime though was not today. Oliver thought that the evening could not get any worse with them damp and stranded on the isle, but he’d been wrong again. So very wrong. Of course the experience had taught him one valuable lesson and never again would he allow Harper to goad him, no matter the perceived incentive.

On their “forced marched” as Roy termed it to the fortress to seek assistance, they’d found an old map with a recently written message (Barry’s analysis based on the ink) scrawled across the back of it. The loopy handwriting warned anyone who found it away from the castle and off the isle. That of course had only served to pique the interest of Felicity and Barry and against the judgment of Diggle and himself, their group pressed forward. Oliver wished he had the words to deter Felicity’s curious mind or inspire a sense of self-preservation in her. He’d been unsuccessful in making her realize that his feelings for her went way beyond friendship, Oliver considered funding their travels to be a neon bright clue but so far Felicity hadn’t seen it; so why he thought he could convince her of anything was a mystery even their team could not solve.

As always they followed Felicity’s lead and headed towards the tourist attraction with him and Diggle on guard. Of the other men who made up their team, John Diggle had been the one he hadn’t expected to befriend so easily and quickly, but the workout and training time they set aside had allowed for a bond to form between them. That hadn’t stopped Diggle from having THE TALK (where it was made clear that while the older man liked him, his first loyalty would always be to Felicity) with him before they cemented their friendship. The mostly one-sided discussion actually made Oliver like and respect the former military man more. If anyone asked he was certain each of them would choose their allegiance to the quirky, beautiful genius who brought them together and made them a team. A family really.

That made losing her the worst thing that could happen. It didn’t matter how much he chanted internally that they would find her. That they had to because not getting Felicity back was not an option for any of them. If they had to spend the rest of their lives scouring the isle he knew Dig, Roy and Barry would be right by his side searching for her. Still the panicked beat of his heart had not settled since Felicity fell through a trapdoor in the great room of the castle. Roy had entered the room and made a beeline for the painting of the pirate Vasquez that hung over the fireplace mantle. He and Barry stood before it making fun of the man’s scraggly appearance while Dig stayed by the doorway, guarding their exit. A brief exchange had him and Felicity taking opposite paths around the dark room to look for a light source other than the one cast by the dancing flames within the hearth.

Her screech of surprise pulled their collective gaze towards her location in time to see her frightened eyes and flyaway hair disappear beneath the floor. Diggle hadn’t hesitated in racing forward, his movement spurring theirs, but as they got close a loud, disturbing cackling sounded and lights throughout the main floor flickered before the room was once again hurled into near darkness. The groan of old metal followed and echoed as the laughter faded.

The spot from which Felicity disappeared was outside of the glow emanated by the fire. Ever resourceful Diggle pulled out his cell to use as a flashlight to search for the exact location from which she disappeared. The poor lighting mixed with the dirt and cracks covering the floor made it impossible to pinpoint where the trapdoor was located. Even pounding on its surface, hoping for a distinct sound difference, could not help the soldier locate the spot.

“We’ll split up, teams of two,” Diggle stated laying out the plan. Roy attempted to protest. Oliver knew the street-smart boy could handle himself, but without knowing what they were up against, it was smarter to team up, even though it would be slower. A part of him didn’t care about that but he knew if they took any unnecessary risks and someone got hurt Felicity would be upset. An angry Felicity Smoak was something he never wanted to experience again, so he decided to go with slower. At least for the time being.

“Harper, you’re with me,” Dig said ending any further hope Roy had for debate. “Sit rep every twenty minutes,” he ordered as he pulled the boy by his jacket collar out of the room leaving him alone with Barry. Of all his teammates Allen was his least favorite and it had nothing to with the man himself and more to do with the closeness between the man-child (as he thought of him) and Felicity. Even though Oliver knew there was nothing overtly romantic in their relationship he couldn’t help the twinge of unhappiness that coursed through him every time Felicity chose to lean on Barry.

They held each other’s gaze for a beat and Oliver couldn’t help but be grateful for the resolve he found in the other man’s verdant eyes. “Let’s go find our girl,” Barry said with a forced cheerfulness, his usually optimistic outlook overshadowed by his concern for their friend. Oliver nodded and locked in step they started their pursuit.

***

Forty-five minutes later relief flooded through him when they found Felicity bound and gagged to a chair in a dank, hidden room in the bowels of the castle. Barry’s nimble fingers pried the ropes loose as he worked the cloth gag from her mouth. When she’d been freed he had expected her to seek comfort in Barry’s embrace, but her shivering frame dove into him and the coldness of her skin knocked the breath from his lungs. Needing to reassure her, to comfort her and himself with the fact that she was there and unharmed, Oliver wound his arms around her and pulled her close, allowing the heat from his body to seep into hers and warm her.

The fact that she sought solace from him when Barry, her oldest friend in the world and the only person Oliver saw as true hindrance when it came to capturing Felicity’s heart, settled a nagging fear within him. He’d been trying unsuccessfully for so long to reach her and without knowing it – perhaps without her realizing it – he’d made progress. Her nose digging into his chest as she tried to burrow deeper into him made Oliver’s heart leap and a smile touch his lips. He marveled at the feel of her against him and the gingery scent of her lotion filling his senses made him realize that he would be quite content to stand there for eternity, feeling the press of her small, soft body against the hard planes of his own.

A discreet clearing of Barry’s throat disturbed the quiet moment between them he’d been savoring. Oliver scowled as Felicity eased herself away from him and turned towards Barry who appeared flustered. The only thing that kept him from growling out his annoyance at the interruption was the fact that Felicity hadn’t put much distance between them; in fact, she kept her back just inches from him. “I texted Dig that we found you,” he informed them his voice breaking only slightly. “Apparently Roy is freaking out about some talking skull and a sandwich that materialized out of nowhere.”

Baffled silence buzzed through the room momentarily. “That’s not your joking face,” Felicity replied her voice harsh from the cloth that had been shoved in it.

“Well seeing how we got chased by a figure that disappeared through a wall,” Oliver did let out a groan when Barry shared that bit of news with Felicity, “while looking for you, no I’m not wearing my joking face. This, this could be a genuine haunting.”

“I’d be tempted to agree with you, but tied to chair doesn’t scream ghost to me,” Felicity commented drily, rubbing her wrists which were red and inflamed from the ropes that had bound her.

Barry shrugged his shoulders. “Either way, Dig thinks it is best to regroup outside.” With that said he walked up to her and snaked an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her to him. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

For the first time he watched her smile up at the other man without his gut twisting. “Me too.” She ducked her head quickly into his shoulder, giving Barry the reassurance Oliver knew he needed, before she pulled back and put on what he’d come to think of as her boss face. Her mouth which always seemed tipped up in a half-smile unless she was angry would go flat and stern across her face and her usually soft eyes would sharpen; a no-nonsense Felicity Smoak was a heady thing to encounter and was near impossible to argue against. Hence it was the look she wore whenever she played the boss card. “Let’s go solve this thing,” she ordered, linking her arms through each of theirs, directing them towards the doorway out of the dark room and back into narrow corridor that would lead them up and out of the castle.

***

Roy was pale and clutching a book when they met up with him and Diggle a good distance from the ingress they’d used to enter the castle earlier. Upon seeing Felicity he thrust the book at the older man before awkwardly jerking her into a hug. “Don’t scare me like that again, Blondie.” He tried to keep his voice low, but in his relief, Roy was unable to pull off his usual cool, indifferent attitude.

“I’ll do my best,” Felicity promised, giving him a quick cuddle before the boy lurched back. Red dotted his sharp cheeks, but given the circumstance no one teased him about his uncharacteristic display.

Dig merely clasped Felicity’s shoulder as he handed her the book and explained that they too had run afoul of a billowing figure on their hunt for her. She patted his hand and offered him a warm smile before she started to leaf through the book while they compared notes of their search.

"'Far into the deep dark passages of the catacombs' – by the way catacombs is underlined in red ink,” Felicity stated bringing their confab to an end, “'can be found the secrets of the evil duke who' ... what is up with this book?" Oliver found the quizzical look on her face, one that included her nose scrunched up, endearing.

“There was this giant key engraved with the message ‘Second Passage of The Old Bell’ which apparently that is,” Roy said looking over her shoulder and down at the book. “You’re always drilling into me to follow clues and after we saw it I found the book when we went through the library. I figured it could mean something.”

He could see the puzzle pieces coming together in Felicity’s mind; she spoke, well more like babbled out how the room she’d been found in deep underneath the castle could be considered catacombs. There seemed to be a vast network of them beneath the castle. “And you want to explore them,” Diggle stated more than asked, because it was clear to all of them that’s where she was going. Though she had the decency to look sheepish Oliver knew there was no way of talking her out of the search.

“You get lost again, I’m not looking for you,” Roy grumbled ending the silent battle of wills happening between Dig and Felicity, before he stomped back towards the castle.

There was a forlorn expression on her face as she watched him go. “He’d totally look for you,” Barry assured her. “We all would.” With that promise he raced to catch up to a swiftly moving Roy, clearly still following Diggle’s orders about not separating.

“You don’t have to say it Dig,” she sighed, “I know solving mysteries isn’t everything.”

John beamed at her, which eased the tension in her shoulders that had formed at Roy’s words. “But it is a hell of lot of fun,” he replied, nudging them both up the hill towards the castle.

***

Their search through the icy, dark corridors and rooms beneath the castle finally garnered them a room of interest when they stumbled upon a chamber stocked with props. Magician’s props to be precise, which Barry was excitedly cataloguing, informing them what all the different props were for – apparently he was a science geek and wanna-be magician – when the phantom appeared once more. It swept into the room startling all of them. In their haste Felicity and Roy to ram into each other, she was rubbing her forehead and he his chin as the figure left a dissolving trail out of the room and down the hallway. Though Oliver had agreed with Felicity’s earlier assessment that this wasn’t an actual haunting seeing the unearthly glow made him wonder. The crash of magical props, thanks to Barry as he raced to pursue the phantom reminded him he was surrounded by a plethora of options that could provide a very logical alternative to what they had just seen. “The game is afoot,” Barry cried as he jumped over the cluttered mess he created and ducked into the hall.

“I’ve got these two,” Dig said motioning towards Felicity and Roy, leaving him little choice but to pursue Barry. For a self-professed geek Barry was fleet of foot and he had to sprint to catch up with him. As they turned a corner he saw the line of Roy, Felicity and Dig racing to catch up with them. Oliver thought of shouting for Barry slowdown but much like his best friend Tommy, Allen could be stubborn once an idea got in his head. He knew Barry wouldn’t stop until he caught the phantom – and seriously how did one actually go about catching a ghost? – or the trail went cold.

A few minutes later they crashed out of the winding tunnels and into a marshy area at the base of the castle. There was no sign of the phantom though Barry spun in circle looking for any trace to follow. The shuffle of feet and pants of breath alerted Oliver to emergence of the rest of their team from the castle. Once they’d skidded to halt next to him the door they’d all traversed through slammed shut with the groaning of rusting hinges and pop of wood against stone.

When Roy tried to push it open it wouldn’t budge. He and Diggle went to add their weight to the attempt but the door refused to move. There was a slight give near the corroding hinges, but none on the latch side, leaving Diggle to assess that “It must be locked.”

Incredulous Roy asked, “Ghosts lock doors?”

“No,” Barry answered. “Magicians do though and I think I know just the way to trap whoever is,” he made quotes with his hands as he said the word, “haunting the castle.”

Hiking back up the rocky terrain near the castle had taken them hour and it was another forty minutes of setup with Diggle standing guard while he and Roy loudly stumbled through the castle trying to draw and keep the attention of the so-called phantom before Barry’s plan could be put into action. Twenty minutes later Barry’s hypothesis was proven correct when he unmasked the ghost to find Bluestone the Great, a has-been magician, turned wanted felon.

As Felicity called in the authorities the man caterwauled non-stop about his foiled plans of finding long-lost treasure. “I managed to frighten away all snoopers with my tricks until you came along,” he grumbled. “I was this close,” bound he used a sliver of space between his thumb and index figure to indicate how within reach he thought the treasure to be, “to finding the lost booty. I would have gotten away with it too, if it hadn't been for you meddling interlopers.”

Even as the police arrived Bluestone’s diatribe continued. Diggle had escaped the man’s insistent spewing of words by going to wait outside so he could direct their reinforcements and Roy had followed Barry down to Bluestone’s storage room to start cataloguing and processing evidence because neither could stand the sound of the man’s voice any longer. If he wasn’t on guard duty Oliver would have left himself, but the presence of Felicity next to him made the intolerable wait somewhat bearable. As Bluestone was carted from the room and silence finally descended Felicity released a breathy, “Huh?” Monologuing really is a thing.”

Chapter Text

Never trust geniuses with regular old road maps. That was a the lesson John Diggle learned as he pulled the van to a stop in front of a rotting wooden sign declaring the name of the virtual ghost town spread out before them to be Gold City. Jinkies and Zoinks, as he tended to think of Felicity and Barry whenever they went into full-on clueless egghead mode, had insisted that they were not lost. The spooky little town before them, miles off their intended route proved otherwise. He inhaled deeply and breathed out slowly as he listened to Roy needle them about how very off course they were. The three of them were close to being on his last nerve and Dig was thankful that Oliver was pretending to be asleep and not adding to cacophony of pointless noise in the van.

“Lost or not lost,” he ground out stopping their banter, “it’s getting late and I refuse to spend another night in the van. Hotel, meal, a decent night’s sleep and we’ll start fresh in the morning.” Though he left it unsaid, Diggle thought, with a different navigator because there was no way he was trusting directions to either Felicity or Barry again unless GPS was involved. Even then he’d be a little leery because he wouldn’t put it pass Felicity to hack into the damn thing to make course corrections as she saw fit. Driving them off a cliff and into the Grand Canyon or some other gorge was a very likely possibility if that were to ever happen.

The hotel they found wasn’t of the traditional variety. It was a ranch house the owner, Big Ben, converted into a motel in hopes of staying afloat and keeping the property. Diggle questioned the appeal of the town and the building, though he understood the need to care for family and all Ben had left of his was their homestead.

As he checked them in, a storm rolled in – loud bangs of thunder and flashes of lightening without the promising smell of rain for the dried out soil – and Ben told them an abbreviated history of Gold City. For a time, back in the 1840s, it had been a prosperous haven in the middle of the dessert that surround them, so named for what at the time seemed to be an endless vein of gold discovered nearby.

“By 1863 the vein dried up,” he explained as he walked them towards their rooms. “The town chugged along for a bit, but prospectors left as new veins were found and seeing how the town is off the beaten path more folks tended to leave than stay and not many came a calling to make it their new home.”

“We had a reassurance in the 50s, made it a kind a tourist attraction for families to visits with horseback riding and gold panning, living the pioneer life, but as the adventure of great American road trip turned into destination visits to Disneyland our visitors petered off again,” he said sadly.

“And those we’ve had since have all been run off by the Miner 49’er,” Ben’s assistant, Hank, who was helping them carry their bags offered.

“Don’t go selling that malarkey now, son,” Ben admonished, his cheerful face falling in a frown, making the wrinkles that lined it more pronounced.

“Nope, not getting sucked into another ghost story,” Roy exclaimed and bolted into the room Ben had been opening with his duffle slung over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he told the man as he snaked the key from him before shutting the door in all their faces.

“That boy needs a lesson in manners,” Ben remarked. “It’s ladies first.”

“We’re working on it, but it’s all right,” Felicity said as she beamed up at him. “In fact, I’d love to hear the story about the Miner 49’er.” Frank did a little dance, dropping the bags he’d been carrying and started in on the tale. Diggle let loose a soft groan because he knew there was no way he’d be getting tucked into his room with cowboy lunch pail – the only food Ben had to offer this evening – until Frank got done weaving his story. Knowing Felicity as he did, he suspected they wouldn’t be hitting the road first thing in the morning as planned; they’d be sticking around to investigate.

As he listened to the wiry man wax poetic about the ghost of an old prospector haunting the shutdown mine still looking for gold, Diggle wondered if it was time to talk to Oliver about cutting off funds for investigations that didn’t pay. They were supposed to be a detective agency not ghostfacers or whatever the supernatural investigators from that show Paranormal Felicity made him watch called themselves, or maybe that was paranormal sleuths from the show Supernatural. Either way the fact that he was thinking about that instead of grabbing a quick bite before sleeping was enough for him to gruffly, but politely interrupt Frank and ask for his room key.

He offered a stiff, “Good night,” to the group as Ben handed him the key and nodded to the second door to the left.

“Dig,” Felicity breathed out as he moved by her. “In the morning,” he replied, though seeing the concerned look on her face, he offered her a tight smile, letting her know that he was just tired and everything would be fine in the morning.

***

Over coffee and biscuits the next morning Felicity insisted staying wasn’t about investigating the Miner 49’er. “Ben and I talked after everyone else turned in for the night and he loves this place, John.” The use of his first name got him; Felicity rarely used it, saving it for times when she was trying to express something important. “And it’s dying. We can’t stop that, I know that, but I know how much it would mean to him for the town to have visitors again – accidental or not. So if you all agree,” she continued sweeping her gaze around the table, briefly meeting the eyes of each of their teammates, “I’d like us to play tourist today and spend another night before we get back on the road.”

Oliver was ready to crumble at the imploring look on her face, though Diggle expected the other man to say yes to any request Felicity had because it was her asking. That he managed to hold back and defer to him, because he was the one who truly would be answering for all of them in this case and they all understood that, impressed him.

He knew there was no ulterior motive to Felicity’s request. This was not an end-run around his bad mood from yesterday, it was a genuine appeal because she’d been charmed by the aging man they’d met last night and wanted to give a bit of happiness. It had been the same when she met him at the VA a few years ago. He’d been volunteering his time working with recently return vets, with men who were still trapped in the dark place he’d just managed to crawl out of and she’d been using her computer expertise to improve the performance of the computer lab the VA made available. She had literally bumped into him one day, spilling his paperwork and babbled at him the whole time she’d helped him collect and re-correlate it. Somehow that had turned into lunch at Big Belly Burger, which became a standing weekly lunch date after her work in the lab was completed. Without him realizing it, she had become a constant in his life and when he’d asked her about it the first time she’d thrown out the idea of her traveling detective agency Felicity told him that he seemed like he needed a friend. And he had. She had seen his need and filled it because that’s who she was a person, she helped people. Giving a day to Ben, to tell his stories and show off what mattered to him, wasn’t much to ask and seeing how the old man’s eyes shone as he talked last night he knew it would mean the world to him.

If had been about solving the Miner 49’er mystery Diggle might have tried to talk her out of it, hell he might have even been successful, but this … this wasn’t something he wanted to say no to. Though it didn’t mean he couldn’t get a concession out of it that would save him from future aggravation. “You promise to never navigate again and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

She pouted momentarily and Oliver and Roy chiming in with their weight behind the request caused her to roll her eyes, before a grin broke out across her face and she stuck out her hand. “Deal.” Chuckling, Dig clasped her hand and they shook on it.

That is how, a half an hour later, the team found themselves mounting horses for a tour of the town. Roy had trouble seating himself as he was too preoccupied with staring at him and Oliver who had been the first to mount. “What you’ve never seen a man on a horse before?” he shot the question at a gaping Roy to break him from his stupefied state.

The boy sputtered and strangled out a laugh. “It’s seeing you both on horses and that,” he replied nodding to Oliver who was expertly seated on an old grey mare, “they can actually hold your weight, err … muscle mass. The real question is what the hell am I doing on a horse?” he opined as he locked his knees tighter against his horse’s flanks causing the to animal jump. Only the sturdy grip of Big Ben kept the animal from racing off with the younger man on its back.

“Ease up, lad,” the old cowboy instructed. “Just like with a lady, treat the animal with gentleness and respect.” While Ben was calming both rider and horse, he overheard Felicity confide to Barry. “I’m afraid of horses, which is something I just learned. Not an ideal time to discover that about myself, but in my defense I never knew they were that huge. Like really huge,” she repeated throwing her arms wide and stretching her fingers out as long as they would go to mirror the size of the horses they’d be riding.

“No time like the present to face your fears,” Barry replied. Felicity whined his name, but when Ben was ready to help seat the next rider he pushed her forward. She dragged her feet, but when Ben held out his hand, she forced a smile and took the last few steps with a sure stride.

“Nellie here, named after Nellie Bly, is our very best. You be kind and she’ll give you an easy ride,” he promised having clearly picked up on her distress. It took two tries for Felicity to get her leg up and over the saddle, but after she mounted she leaned over and whispered into the horse’s ear while making eye contact with her. Diggle watched as the spotted mare swished its tail, as if they’d come to an accord, before Felicity eased back in the saddle and Nellie walked from the mounting area with a practiced grace, rider and animal in perfect sync.

Barry was all gangly appendages as he got seated, but he was at least more graceful than Roy had been. Once he was settled, Ben and Frank saddled up quickly, their comfort with the animals and they with them illustrated by their sure and smooth movements. Ben took up the head of their caravan; he roped Roy to his horse so if the skittish rider spooked his mare he wouldn’t be able to get far. Behind him was Felicity, followed by Oliver, Barry, and then himself with Frank taking up the rear. Ben spoke loud enough so his voice carried all the way back to him and it was evident to him that the old man was pleased to be pointing out the crumbling features of his town, telling the story of Gold City in its heyday.

Their ride lasted a little over an hour and everyone save Ben, Frank and Oliver walked awkwardly at its conclusion. They’d been introduced to the smattering of holdouts like Ben who still inhabited the town during their excursion and been invited to the saloon for lunch. Since they needed to work out the kinks and had a bit a time to kill before lunchtime they walked the main street of the town, poking their heads into the old buildings. Felicity snapped a picture with her camera phone of Roy and Barry behind bars at the old jail. “Always knew I’d end up here,” Roy had joked as he closed the cell door moments before she’d taken the picture. Barry had slung his arm over his hoodie clad shoulders, making a comment about him at least having decent company this time and the two had grinned like fools. “Definitely a keeper,” Felicity declared.

She prodded him and Oliver into posing outside the saloon before they entered and the owner was happy to take a group shot of them with the player piano – its sudden burst of music had startled Felicity when they first arrived – before they sat down for lunch. As they ate their meal the wind picked up, knocking a tree branch against one of the saloon windows repeatedly. Diggle was amazed that the glass held up and didn’t shatter at the force as the pounding resonated throughout building with each thump.

They finished their meal in a hurried fashion to escape the racket. The wind persisted and little cyclones of dirt danced around them as they made their way back towards Ben’s. He’d promised them a poker game that afternoon once he got his chores done. They’d offered to help, but the man insisted they enjoy the town. There wasn’t much to seen or do, but they did stop and play at the panning for gold setup that was still in working order. They only found chips of invaluable rocks and the odd button, but they’d playfully splashed water on each other all in the name of ridding themselves of horse smell.

After being stuck in the van for days getting a little too close for everyone’s comfort, it was good to get in a bit of relaxation, like they meant to take at Rocky Pointe Beach. If Diggle knew he’d be jinxing himself thinking that, he would have prevented his thoughts from going there. The day turned upon their arrival back at ranch house. Barry let out a yelp when the image of man with a large cowboy hat covering all but his nose, a bushy grey beard covering the rest of his face appeared in the mirror in great room they’d been set to meet Ben in for poker. Jumping back from the sight, he rammed into the cigar-store Indian statute Ben had decorating the room, it teetered and settled back into place, but not before a yellowing piece of paper dislodged and floated down to the floor.

Even as he scooped up the piece of paper, which turned out to be a map of Gold City, Diggle knew their carefree day was coming to a screeching halt.

***

The map had a set of numbers scribbled on it and Oliver’s offhanded comment about the safe he found when exploring the ranch house before breakfast led them to trying the combination to open it. Upon opening the door-sized safe they found a rickety old elevator. There had been grumblings and a debate about the prudence of riding it, but curiosity won the day, and Diggle found himself squashed into the tiny mechanism that ended up lowering them down directly into the old mine.

After a terrifying incident where Roy tried to light an old stick of dynamite, thinking it was candle, they managed to explore a section of the mine in relative safety. The excited banter of his friends dried up upon the sight of – Diggle hated to say the Miner 49’er – but the usually tall (taller than both Oliver and himself) figure clothed in brown pants, a long-sleeve blue top and black waistcoat accompanied by a face mostly hidden by a ridiculous large cowboy hat and bushy beard; until they knew otherwise he couldn’t help but think of the specter that chased them with a pick ax down the shaft to a set of rail cars as anything than the Miner 49’er.

The figure did not pursue them as they followed the track up and what seemed to be out of the old mine. As they trudged through the shaft Felicity lamented over the fact that Frank had been right, what few visitors Gold City received had been chased away. She came to an abrupt stop as her feet touched the sunlight creeping through boarded off entrance they’d been herded towards. “We have to put a stop to this for Ben.”

The other men looked at him to argue this with Felicity, but Dig couldn’t help feel indignation on Ben’s behalf. The man was trying to eke out a living and perverse something that meant the world to him. That someone was preventing him from doing that angered him.

“I saw a wire, fairly new compared to the rest of this place a while back. I think we should start there,” he declared earning a radiant grin from Felicity and looks of shock and consternation from the rest of the team. As she bounded back down the shaft, she stopped before him and bounced on her tip-toes to throw her arms around his neck. Embracing him she said, “You’re the best man I know, Dig.”

He smoothed a hand up and down her back, returning her affection. “Enough of the mushy stuff,” he said easing back. Dig cast a sharp eye, quieting any complaints that the others might have made. When he was certain there would be no argument he instructed Felicity to, “Lead the way.”

***

The wire ended up leading to a carved out room in a branched off corridor of the main shaft of the mine. Inside it was everything the Miner needed – a tape recorder, a microphone and loudspeaker setup, and an extra costume –to fake the haunting of Gold City and the mine. And on a more disturbing note they found a cache of jarred crude oil. Diggle knew nothing good could come from that.

His eggheads could be pretty crafty when they put their minds to it and using what they found Barry and Felicity constructed a slightly brilliant, definitely way over the top plan to draw out the Miner. Making use of Roy’s formerly hidden talent (known only to Felicity) to mimic various noises they decided to spook the specter by making it seem as if a freight train was barreling through the tunnel. All it took was a flashlight, the microphone and loudspeaker setup and Roy’s uncanny ability to make authentic sounding train noises while he and Oliver pushed him in a railcar.

It had all been going according to plan. The noise drew the Miner to the tracks and they’d been chasing him down when something tripped, with a barely audible click over Roy’s noises, on the track and the railcar picked up speed and sailed away from them. It hurtled down the tracks and the only thing that saved the Miner from being crushed beneath it was Roy dangerously tilting the car, forcing it off the tracks. The lithe twenty-something was able to crouch and roll safely out of the car. It continued its skid, knocking into the Miner and driving him through a rotting wooden closet that had been built in the shaft.

As the team rushed to the scene Dig saw that the Miner’s boots had come off during the collision and a long set of stilts were attached to a pair of dangling feet. He stepped over the debris and used the firm press of his left foot to hold the man down while Roy, Barry, and Oliver shuffled the wreckage off of him. The Miner only began to squirm when Felicity went to tug the hat off his head. His leather glove clad hands clamped down over the brim, keeping the hat firmly in place. Not to be deterred, Felicity tangled a hand through the beard and pulled. A loud and drawn out, “Noooooooo,” was shouted in a familiar voice.

“Frank,” Felicity gasped, her sapphire eyes went wide with disappointment while her brow furled in worry. Dig knew as well as the rest of them that Frank’s betrayal would be a blow to Big Ben. They all cringed as Felicity began scolding the man with her loud voice. Her words echoed up and down the chute, making their ears hurt. It did the trick though. Frank confessed that while the mine was exhausted of gold he’d found that the area where the gold had dried up was sitting over an oil reserve. He’d hoped scaring everyone off would let him buy the land cheaply and allow him to exploit his find without having to share it with anyone else.

Once his intentions were out, Felicity punched the man hard in the shoulder. The way she shook her hand after throwing the punch let Diggle know she hurt herself more than Frank, but he understood the sentiment. As she was telling the man that, “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he figured it was time to give both her and Barry a few basic self-defense lessons. Though he planned on being there so they’d never need to see to their own defenses, knowing how to properly throw a punch would come in handy when facing future situations like this one. Diggle had no illusions; he knew that they would face circumstances like this again.

Chapter Text

This particular leg of their journey started and ended with Oliver Jonas Queen, who had gone from near bane of her existence to a vital fixture in her life. Somehow he’d catapulted over all her defenses and made a place for himself in her heart, becoming her home. Felicity didn’t need the cozy townhouse she’d sublet back in Starling or the cramped apartment she had shared in Vegas growing up with her mother to feel like she was home. All she needed was Oliver’s arms around her and no matter where they were home was with her. Not that she’d been willing to even acknowledge that truth to herself until she found herself curling into Oliver’s embrace after he and Barry had rescued her on Haunted Isle.

Everything had crystalized after that for her, and yet, she and Oliver still found themselves in a holding pattern. There had been the awkward early morning run in between them in Gold City where she had spilled out an innuendo laden babble. Luckily after their day of playing tourist ended unexpectedly in an investigation a tacit agreement of forgetting it happened seemed to fall into place. Felicity had been grateful for that because a part of her would always be waiting for the people she cared about most to disappear from her life, leaving her bereft in their absence. More so then solving mysteries, pulling the men who had become her family into her (possibly harebrained) traveling detective agency had been a way to ensure they’d always be close … that she couldn’t lose them. Sure there had been tense encounters and scares along the way, but having her boys with her was worth those moments. However, the on-going flirtatious dance between her and Oliver made the balance she thought she achieved feel catawampus. As much as Felicity wanted to dive in and explore those feelings she was terrified that it would change everything and ultimately lead to her losing what she cherished most. Of course if she kept things at a standstill there was a very real possibility that it could all blow up in face anyhow … the phrase ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ seemed tailored made for this point in her life. Instead of tackling the issue head on, her usual modus operandi, she feinted and hoped paying a visit to Oliver’s longtime friend Tommy Merlyn would distract them all enough to keep their pattern aloft for just a little longer.

They’d been welcomed to the Merlyn vacation estate with warmth and glee from Tommy and cold disapproval from his father Malcom. While the elder Merlyn slinked off to his office to work (on a Saturday!) Tommy led her troupe through a guided tour of the massive and gorgeous property; all the while pointing out spots where he and Oliver had experienced disastrous misadventures growing up. Seeing Oliver flush with embarrassment and forcibly clamp his hand over Tommy’s mouth to end a few of the more racy stories abruptly had been met with amusement by all but the star of the tales. Personally, Felicity could not help but be delighted watching Oliver turn into a grumpy cat before her eyes, mostly because while clearly not thrilled, he was genuinely happy to be reunited with his esteemed partner in crime.

Lunch was waiting for them at the end of tour and they spent nearly two hours sitting around the table in the informal dining area off of the kitchen eating, laughing, and sharing stories from their recent travels with Tommy. The amiable socialite was trying to talk them into bunking at the mansion for a few days. A few days of rest, though Oliver insisted they wouldn’t experience that if Tommy went ahead and flew his sister, Thea, in as he offered was something Roy and Barry championed. Their last case, which had ended with them unmasking a dognapper intent on eliminating the competition in a pedigree show had left them all exhausted. They had been working cases back-to-back and add in the constant travel, a few days off without the rocking motion of the van being their constant companion sounded like a golden opportunity. When Tommy added, “You know she’ll kill us both if I get to hang out with you and she doesn’t.” The longing she’d seen in Oliver’s eyes during the exchange kept Felicity from arguing even though she was worried that the uninterrupted downtime could lead to a conversation she wasn’t certain she was ready to have.

Her unease was cut short, Tommy did not even have a chance to call Thea with the invitation, before the housekeeper broke into their revelry with the news that Malcolm appeared to be missing. She explained in a halting voice that he hadn’t been in his office when his meal was delivered and the food was still untouched an hour later when she went to collect the tray. “I checked his room, to see if he was ill, but there was no sign of him.”

“Was there anything out of place?” Barry inquired. “In either room?” Mrs. Vanders shook her head no, the silver bun of hair swayed gently with the gesture. Before additional questions could be asked of her she stated, “Though he left documents out on his desk, which is unlike him. Even if only stepping away for a moment he’ll lock his work papers up in his briefcase.”

Hearing that Tommy paled. “He is religious about that,” he confirmed. “Should we … should I call the police?” He didn’t wait for an answer and pulled his cell from his jacket pocket with shaky fingers. Oliver reached out and clasped his wrist, steadying his friend. Stormy grey eyes met Oliver’s jeweled ones and Felicity stepped next to the men and rubbed a comforting hand up and down Tommy’s back.

“I know you’re worried,” Oliver said his voice calm and comforting, “but how about we search the grounds ourselves before we involve the police.”

“Mr. Merlyn hasn’t wanted authorities on any of his properties since …” Mrs. Vanders trailed off shooting a sympathetic look towards the younger Merlyn.

“Since my mother,” Tommy finished for her. “Since they came to notify him of her—” he stopped abruptly dropping his gaze from Oliver as he leaned back into comforting press of her hand, unable to say the word murder.

“So let’s take a look ourselves and if we’re unable to find him we’ll involve the police.” Tommy nodded his agreement to his friend’s suggestion. Oliver began insisting that Tommy rest, but he refused to be sidelined.

“Stay with him,” Felicity instructed, “search the main level. Roy lower level. Barry second floor. Dig and I will start searching the grounds – I’ll start in the front and circle to the back. Mrs. Vanders are there any outlining buildings that need searched?”

“A few,” she confirmed. “I’ll call the groundskeeper and ask him starting checking them.”

With a plan in place they all started to file out of the casual dining area when Oliver stopped her by ducking into her personal space. He squeezed her shoulder gently and pleaded, “No unnecessary risks.”

“On mint chocolate chip,” she promised. He graced her with a crooked smile before Tommy tugged him along out of the room.

***

There was a reason Felicity personally wanted to search the front of the mansion, she wanted a critical eye to diligently examine the driveway for signs of any additional vehicles. If someone had taken the elder Merlyn, they had done so without a struggle, but she was hoping the wet conditions would have left traces of any extra travel up and down the lane. She had seen two sets of tracks when coming up the drive and the van made a third. She eyed the gravel and immaculately kept lawn on either side and saw no sign of a fourth set.

She was about to head around to the back of the estate to aid Dig with the acres it stretched when she saw a figure stumble towards the gate. There was a pitiful, masculine groan when the man fell onto his knees. Felicity raced down the lane to offer him assistance. “Are you all right?” she puffed out, hunching down next to him when she reached him.

“No,” he croaked raising his head. Felicity was flabbergasted as she came face-to-face with Malcolm Merlyn. Only he wasn’t the same man she’d met hours ago. This Malcolm was older. Much older. His handsome face wrinkled, jet hair peppered with white, and neck and hands discolored with age spots.

“What happened?” she queried afraid to reach out and touch him.

“Tommy,” he begged. “Please, I need to see my son.”

His request spurred her into action. She fumbled her phone out of her pants pocket, punched a quick message about finding Malcolm before shoving the tech back into her pocket. With that done, Felicity wedged her shoulder underneath his left arm and clamped her arm around him firmly. She tried to push him up, but his rapidly aged appearance had done nothing to divest him of his muscle mass and his weight was too much to lift without his help.

On her second attempt, he pushed with his right hand providing enough momentum to get them standing. Once they were vertical his hold on her shoulder tightened and they started slowly down the drive. Felicity was grateful see the forms of her boys converging on them. The shock of Malcolm’s appearance stopped them cold a few feet from them. Her squeaked, “He’s heavy,” got Oliver moving. He took Malcolm’s frame from the other side, allowing her to slip out from under his weight, and Tommy immediately took the place she vacated. With great care he and Oliver moved in tandem, shuffling Malcolm into the house.

It was only after they got him comfortably situated in one of the many parlors and Tommy had repeated her earlier question that she finally got an answer. “I working at my desk when I heard … well I thought it was Teresa bringing my meal. Everything is a little fuzzy after that,” he explained. His sky blue eyes were dilated and unable to focus properly as they drifted around the room. It seemed to Felicity that he was taking it in for the first time. And perhaps he was, she thought. There were enough rooms in the house that it was possible that Malcolm had not spent time in all of them.

“I felt this compulsion,” he continued, “to walk and suddenly I was up and moving. I kept going until I got to the abandoned Kingston Mansion. This is going to sound crazy,” Malcolm said looking down at his now weathered hands, flexing them tenderly, “though my definition of that term is expanding based on what’s happened today. Regardless,” he said lifting his head, “I saw or thought I saw Elias Kingston. Though I suppose it would be more accurate to say his ghost since the man has been dead over a decade.”

“He demanded that the Merlyn fortune be surrendered to his heir otherwise he’d put a hex on the rest of my family. On you,” he told Tommy looking up at his son with fear filled eyes. “He told me that this was my one warning. I didn’t understand what that meant until I caught a glimpse of myself in a broken window … everything after that is a blur. Until I saw you,” Malcolm said his voice breaking as he looked in her direction.

“We need to call a doctor and maybe—”

“No,” Malcolm ordered firmly.

“Dad—”

“If word of this gets out the company could be at risk.”

“Forget the company,” Tommy snapped, “this is your life.”

Father tried to reassure son. “I’m fine.”

“You’re eighty,” the younger Merlyn countered, eyes flashing pewter in frustration and concern.

***

It had taken a great deal of arguing, but after Malcolm promised to rest, Tommy agreed not to call a doctor. “For the time being,” he warned. “Any signs of deterioration and you are seeing a doctor.” Observing the anxiety on his son’s face and hearing the fear in his voice must have softened the elder Merlyn’s resolve because he acquiesced to those terms.

While Tommy had his father unwinding in the parlor, Diggle went to meet with their security team to setup patrols of the grounds. Barry and Roy were researching Elias Kingston and his heir and while that was more her forte, Malcolm had latched onto her during his negotiation with Tommy and Diggle had set them on the task during the protracted process. And that is how Felicity found herself in the kitchen making a pot of tea to help soothe the nerves of the rapidly aged tycoon.

She was eyeing the loose leaf tea, wondering how many scoops was the correct amount to put into the delicate china pot she’d found when Oliver’s voice snapped her from her calculations. “You’ve managed not to set the place on fire, that’s a marked improvement from your last time in front of a stove.”

Felicity scowled over at him. “Despite nasty rumors I am capable of boiling water.” She turned the container of tea in her hand and conceded, “Making tea that doesn’t involve a bag however …” she trailed off and her face morphed into pout as she sent him a pleading look.

Oliver chuckled as he crossed the room. “I only know how to do this because Raisa showed me,” he confessed as his hand settled over the one she had around the tea tin. Felicity felt a tingle up her arm at his touch. She looked up over her shoulder at Oliver, who continued to edge in closer against her back. She could feel the heat of him seeping into her, trapped in it and the pull of his expressive eyes, she leaned back into him.

His free hand settled on her hip and Felicity could feel his breath on her neck. There were distant alarms bells sounding in her head but they were drowned out by the engulfing warmth of his presence. At the first gentle press of his lips her eyes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to sink into the longed for sensation of Oliver’s mouth against her own.

They hovered there in that moment, lips barely touching, their breaths mingling. “Felicity,” he sighed her name with reverence, the deep needy tone forcing her eyes open to take in the desire that had darkened his eyes to a stormy blue. She pushed herself up into him, her tongue swiping at his lower lip. Oliver growled and the hand on her hip fisted as he turned her around so that her back collided with the counter. He leaned in, but not all the way, he left mere inches between them.

Felicity had expected him to swoop in and aggressively claim her mouth, but Oliver stood almost too still – waiting. She wasn’t certain what for, but she was tired of denying the fact that she wanted know what it was like to truly kiss Oliver. Decision made, Felicity curled her fingers in his grey henley and yanked him forward. Their lips finally met in a hard crush as they fused together in an electric kiss.

Felicity had always suspected that Oliver would be a good kisser, but none of her fantasies had prepared for the heady reality of his firm, warm lips devouring hers. Or the feel of his surprisingly rough hands gently cupping her face so that he could angle her head to deepen the kiss as their tongues tangled. It made everything outside the two of them fade away. She was lost in him, in the feel of Oliver pressing her into the counter so that their bodies met at every crevasse. She had no idea how long they stood in the kitchen memorizing and mapping the others mouth, but the harsh whistle of the kettle and the searing pops and snaps of spattered water hitting the stove finally brought them back to the reality at hand.

Panting, Oliver eased back and moved just enough to turn off the burner and place the blistering hot kettle on a cool one. She was still trying to catch her breath and settle her inflamed nerves when he shifted back and settled his hands on the counter on either side of her. Felicity was essentially surrounded, but she did not feel trapped. “We’re going to talk about this,” she promised with a shaky breath. “And do a whole lot more of that.” When Oliver leaned in to kiss her again, she dodged. “Later.”

“Fe-lic-it-y,” he growled nuzzling her neck.

“I know,” she whined, “but you have a best friend to support and we have a mystery to solve.” He groaned and dragged his lips and stubble up her neck before pulling back so their lust drenched eyes could meet again.

“This – us,” he clarified, “is happening.”

“Yes, definitely,” she agreed with a nod of her head. “Very much happening. It will be happening all the time … well not all the time. I don’t think Barry, Diggle and Roy would appreciate that but it will be happening. A lot.” Oliver ended her ramble with a quick, chaste kiss.

“Three scoops of tea and don’t forget the strainer,” he punctuated each direction with another quick kiss. He ran his hands down her arms and cupped her palms in his, “See you back in there?”

Feeling incapable of speech, probably for the first time in her life, Felicity once again nodded. They grinned at each other and Oliver pressed a final kiss against her forehead before he released her to go back to Tommy.

***

Felicity was carefully balancing the tray of tea she was carrying down the hall when she heard Oliver’s shout. The content of his words were muffled so she haphazardly set the tray on the ground, spilling liquid and engorged leaves all over it, before racing into the parlor to find it empty save for Oliver. She didn’t have a chance to ask what happened to Tommy and his father before he announced that, “They’re gone. I came back and they were gone.” The joyful expression that had been plastered to his face leaving the kitchen was absent and replaced with an anxious one.

She strode across the room to him, cupped his cheek and promised with conviction that, “We’ll find them.” She dug out her phone and called Diggle, who reported nothing out of ordinary with the security team.

“I don’t think it’s worth searching here again,” Dig told her, his voice sounding tinny over the speakerphone. “Just to be certain we can have Merlyn’s team do that while we head over to the Kingston Mansion.”

Agreeing with his assessment Felicity replied, “I’ll collect Barry and Roy and we’ll meet you out front.” After ending the call, she took a moment to assure Oliver that Tommy would be fine, before going off to collect Barry and Roy. They had been neck deep in research, Barry grumbling about not being able to find a single trace of Kingston’s heir, when she pulled them away from their task.

The drive over to the mansion had been tense and Felicity was thankful that Roy chose not to use his particular brand of snarky humor to defuse it. Otherwise the death grip Oliver had on her hand, the one he refused to relinquish as they began their search of the abandoned property, might have actually crushed her bones into dust.

Their first clue that something more – well something other than a ghostly abductor – was taking place, was being confronted by a snarling watchdog when trying to break into the derelict manor. There had been a scary moment of flashing teeth and harsh vicious barking as the monstrous dog chased them to the far side of the property, over near the cemetery where the Kingston family mausoleum stood weathered and molding. Much to their collective relief Roy proved that the beast masquerading as a dog was all noise and no actual bite. Somehow he managed to get the dog to sit happily on ground, tail wagging and tongue lolling as he petted him vigorously.

“Quit flirting with the dog, Roy,” Diggle teased as they caught their breath.

Roy waved him off as Barry questioned, “What does a ghost need with a watchdog?”

“The same thing it needs with a gag and rope,” Felicity replied, “absolutely nothing.”

“Not a ghost, then?” Barry pouted, clearly disheartened over the prospect.

“When has it ever been a ghost?” Oliver countered his exasperation made sharp by his worry for Tommy. She squeezed his forearm, to offer support, but also to stop him from taking out his tumultuous emotions on their friends.

“If it’s not a ghost then it’s Merlyn Senior,” Dig pronounced as Roy continued to lavish attention on the colossal brown dog.

“What would be the point of him signing over his fortune then?” Barry wondered.

“Trust me,” Oliver answered his voice low and dark, “Malcolm never does anything without a motive. Frankly, I don’t care what he’s up to, I just want to find Tommy and make sure he’s all right.”

They spent the next few hours following a convoluted trail of clues, and if they never came across another swami it would be too soon as far as Felicity was concerned, but at the end of them Oliver had been proven right. Everything led back to the heartless mogul and while he hadn’t physical hurt his son, the emotional damage he inflicted was immeasurable.

Malcolm tried to explain his motives to an incensed Tommy and even begged his son to understand why he’d setup the elaborate ruse. It wasn’t about stealing his inheritance which he swore he had every intention of returning. Malcolm insisted that he just needed the trust signed over to him long enough to finally close down his wife’s clinic in the rundown neighborhood of Starling known as the Glades. “They just left her there on the street to die,” he raged, bitterness pouring forth as he spewed the hate that had consumed him. He could not stand to have a beckon of hope with Rebecca’s name on it in the Glades when no one there helped her as she died. That was his justification for his cruelty, for allowing hatred to overrule whatever love he might have for his son.

Needless to say that excuse did not go over well and though Tommy hadn’t called the sheriff as he threatened, he had disowned his father and promised that he would never allow the clinic to be closed before storming out of the mansion. Malcolm had at least been shrewd enough not to follow his son, though Felicity doubted he was through with his machinations – men like Merlyn were not the kind to give up until they achieved their objective; the team however was hot on his heels.

“I can’t stay here, Ollie,” Tommy admitted his face ashen from the events that had transpired. “Or anywhere he can find me.” Felicity always thought that it could not get worse than her absentee father or Barry’s incarcerated one, but Malcolm proved that belief to be erroneous, having an actual evil villain for a dad was way worse.

She could read the desire in Oliver’s countenance to stay and figure out how to support his friend, but there was hesitation as well. They’d just taken their relationship to the next level and she knew he didn’t want to pull back when they had finally decided to move forward. For her part, Felicity was fairly certain she’d be reliving their passionate and impromptu make-out session and feeling the giddy effects of it until their next one. Which would hopefully be soon.

Though the already crowded conditions of the van would constrict unpleasantly she found herself saying, “There’s always room in the Mystery Machine if you’re interested.” Oliver looked at her with gratitude and something akin to love (though it was way too soon to go there and they really needed to go on a date before she started associating that word with him or what they were becoming), while thoughtful consideration played over Tommy’s face, wiping away the worst of the hardship he’d faced.

“You’d let me join your band of Merry Men?” he asked.

Before she could reply, Roy shouted, “Only if you cover the upgrade to an RV or a tour bus because that’s the only way I’ll allow it.” Felicity shot him a cross look and the boy merely shrugged. “Barry and Diggle agree with me. Nothing against you Merlyn,” he said sincerely, “you’re more than welcomed, but we’re already squished in that van. We need bigger transportation or it’s gonna get uncomfortable real quick. Especially now that they’re done just making heart-eyes each other. No one needs to witness actual PDA.”

Tommy let out a chuckle and he appeared amazed that was able to do so while Diggle smacked Roy on the back of his head. “You know you were thinking it,” he grumbled, rubbing the spot where he’d been thumped.

“We did always talk about being in a band,” Tommy reminded Oliver. “It be less music and chippies, and more mystery solving, but I’m down for that.”

“Welcome to team the team, buddy,” Oliver replied holding out his hand. When Tommy clasped it Oliver pulled him in for a hug. Content beyond her wildest dreams Felicity threw her arms around them both and as Oliver wound an arm around her waist she signaled for Barry, Roy and Diggle to join the embrace.

“Team hugs better not become a thing,” Diggle commented even has he coaxed Barry and Roy forward.