"Obviously, he's forged some kind of connection to the vigilante. Maybe it goes both ways."

- Laurel Lance on Roy Harper 2x02

"You're late," * the Arrow growled at him. Even crouched on his haunches in the middle of the empty warehouse that was their training area, he looked dangerous, like a predator poised to kill.

Roy was not new to the experience of being late, he'd long ago built a thick skin as a Glades-born kid, and little uh-oh, sorry boss moments like these could hardly mortify him. But this was the Arrow. From afar, the guy was inspiring, someone Roy wanted to be like, to help, to work with, to be taught by. From up close, he made Roy nervous (no, he wasn't scared of him!), pinging every one of Roy's 'danger! keep away' instincts, even while Roy tried to make a good impression so the guy would accept his help cleaning up the city. The strange mix turned Roy into a nervous mess every time he was in the vigilante's presence. It was embarrassing but he couldn't help it. He was certain he managed to look pathetically like an insecure kid and an overly eager to please puppy at the same time, especially in the beginning of their acquaintance. Now with the Mirakuru in Roy's veins, his anger often trumped his nervousness, frustration smothered his horrifically transparent desire for approval.

But not even the knowledge that Roy was far stronger than the Arrow seemed to make any difference as he approached the green-clad figure crouched completely still in the middle of the empty space. Roy tried hard to appear nonchalant and unapologetic, but he couldn't seem to be able to look the guy in the face, or even in his direction for longer than a second, though he was proud that he managed to keep his voice steady and casual when he opened his mouth to give his excuses- all true for once, thank god. He didn't want to imagine how the Arrow would take to being lied to.

"I tried to get my girlfriend to leave town, but she won't." *

His head turned to face Roy at that, his posture didn't tense visibly as he stood to loom over Roy as he usually did. But something was different this time. Roy's instincts told him that he'd somehow tread on a mini landmine though he had no idea how or why.

"You cannot bring her into this." *

Ah! Ok. It was about the vigilante's secrets. He'd never met anyone more wound up tight about keeping secrets and not letting people in than that guy. But Roy knew how much secrets could hurt, the power it had to destroy. He knew firsthand that secrets festered when kept, becoming more toxic with time. In that way, he felt that secrets were worse than the truth, which hurt when told but got better the longer you knew. His childhood was a great example of that. His ruined mother the model for all chronic secret keepers. No. He refused to lie to Thea. The Hood had it all wrong. How could he stand keeping all those secrets?

"But how am I supposed to lie to her and protect her at the same time? How do you do it? How do you keep secrets from people in your life?" *

"By remembering it's the only way to keep them safe." *

"No." Roy shook his head and hissed, his temper rising hot in his veins; the man had no idea what he was talking about! "Keeping them safe is what keeps them safe! Telling people the truth. But you, you won't tell me anything. Not about the Mirakuru, this other guy. . . and you got me slapping water and hitting dummies instead!" *

The Arrow opened his mouth to reply, paused, and closed it again. He stood still for a moment, gaze off to the side, deep in thought. He seemed to shrink a little bit, right before Roy's eyes. The transformation fascinated Roy enough that for a moment he forgot his frustration and the fire in his veins that Roy associated with the Mirakuru receded to a dull ache in his muscles.

"Maybe you're right," the Hood said after long minutes of silence. It sounded like a self-recriminating sigh of defeat. "Maybe what you need. . . is a ransom."

A what? From whom? Roy stared at the Arrow in disbelief as he started pacing the warehouse like a caged cat, looking both relaxed and coiled at the same time.

"You are your own enemy, Roy. I offered to train you so you could master yourself, your strength, your anger. But I can't do that if I don't have your trust. We'll just be running in circles, learning nothing but how to be frustrated with each other and ourselves." He paused in his pacing and faced Roy. Even with the mask, his gaze struck Roy with it's earnestness. I really just want to help you, I need to, it said. Something about that look reminded Roy of Thea, though there was nothing similar between the vigilante's narrow gaze, and Thea's wide, doe eyes. But the sentiment was the same. It threw Roy for a loop.

The Arrow looked away and moved to perch himself on a stack of crates, leaning his forearms on his knees, hands hanging loosely in front of him. It was the first time the man had ever sat in his presence, or looked like he wasn't ready to attack or defend at any moment. The disarming effect of his body language had Roy approaching tentatively without really noticing what he was doing.

"I kept telling myself that keeping the people around me in the dark was for their benefit, for their safety. But all along, I think I knew, that it was mostly about protecting myself. From them, from. . . everything." The vigilante seemed to be off in his own little world.

Roy shifted from foot to foot and the other guy seemed to remember he was there. The atmosphere was awkward.

"So. . " Roy began, "you're gonna buy my trust with your secrets?"

"No. More like an offering. Trust can never be bought."

Roy didn't know what to say to that except, "Alright."

"Sit down, Roy. You look like I'd just confessed my undying love for you. While I'm sure you're good looking, you're not my type."

Roy scrambled for a nearby portable table and a pile of junk to perch himself on. He could feel the flush spreading from his face and his ears all the way to his neck. Did he just make a joke? At my expense? "Did- did you just make a joke?"

"You think I can't?"

"That's not the point!"

The corner of the vigilante's mouth quirked in a tiny smile. Roy fought not to smile back. This guy was reminding him more and more of Thea in their uncanny ability to affect Roy with their sincerity. It was freaking him out just a little bit.

"His name was Slade."

The sudden non-sequitur had Roy blinking. "What?"

"You wanted to know about my friend, the 'other guy' as you called him, and how I knew so much about the Mirakuru. His name was Slade. He taught me much of the hand-to-hand that I knew. He was a mentor of sorts, and a partner. We fought together. At first, he taught me to fight because he needed someone to watch his back; later on, I'd like to think he kept teaching me because he wanted to."

Roy leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees in an unconscious mirror of the vigilante's pose, and drank in the offered glimpses of the man behind the hood in attentive silence.

* Quoted from the Season 2, Episode 2, Tremors

A.N.: Not enough people write about Roy. Or Roy and Oliver. (Everyone's about Olicity. I loved Olicity at first, but now I'm just tired of it. Too much of a good thing, as they say.) This is not meant to be slash but feel free to wear slash goggles if you like. I have a few more ideas for the next few chapters. It will be more Arrow and Roy bonding moments and will be AU from the show. My story is character driven so there won't be a lot of complex plots or thrilling action (there ought to be some fight scenes of course), but there will be training and jumping around! Let me know if you'd like me to continue. Or if you just liked it! I'd love to hear what you think.