chapter rating: nc-17
warning(s): graphic violence/brutality, coarse language, explicit sexual content
prompt: bratva au
word count: 12,566

TWO

Felicity was pissed. One might not be able to tell, considering she was keeping stoic, but on the inside she was seething. During the ride home from City Hall, Felicity had received a call from Valentin informing her of what had happened at Verdant and that, while unscathed, Thea had been in the middle of a gun fight, narrowly escaping injury thanks to a new entry to the fold. After triple-checking both with her sister-in-law and with outside sources that Thea was really okay, Felicity's focus narrowed down to the situation itself.

When she arrived home, she climbed from the car before Sara had completely turned it off and tore her gloves from her hands, curling her fingers into her palm and letting the bite of her nails against her skin steady her.

Kirill appeared in the doorway and held it open for her while Nikki and Marat quickly took up space behind her, moving aside when Sara joined them.

"Do we have an ID on who was behind this?" Felicity demanded as started climbing the stairs.

There was a pause as they looked at each other, but Kirill finally cleared his throat and answered, "Not yet. There's footage from the outside cameras. Valentin said they covered their faces and the car had no license plate."

"But we have an idea?" she asked, making her way to her office.

"After last night, it's obvious, isn't it?" Nikki piped up, his tone dry. "The Triad tried to steal from us, we killed one of theirs; this is retribution."

"It's risky," Marat argued. "Stealing from you at all was risky, but to attack us in broad daylight? Nyet. It's too foolish."

"It would be stupid," Sara agreed, "but angry people do stupid things."

Felicity's jaw ticked before she swept into her library office and walked toward a bookcase. There, she reached for a very old copy of Macbeth and tipped it forward. There was a clicking noise before the shelf shifted and moved to the side, revealing an open, arched doorway leading to a large, windowless room, the walls dressed in monitors, each of which showed numerous sites around Starling City that were Bratva owned and operated.

Yosef was on shift and quickly stood from his chair to greet them, bowing his head to her. "I have isolated the footage from the attack, as well as any cameras from surrounding area," he told her, his accent thick, making his words a little slow.

She nodded at him in thanks before casting her eyes around. Given how much there was to watch, with various companies and businesses under Bratva control, Felicity knew pulling Yosef away from his job would be a mistake. He was one of their best, and never complained about the obvious eye-sore it must be to keep a constant, vigilant eye on their properties. A large book was unfolded in front of him, filled with Russian writing detailing the last six hours' worth of footage he'd watched in real time, the tapes constantly recording. While he continued to watch the other sites, she decided someone else would need to focus on the recent attack.

"Marat, I want you to comb through all of the footage. It will be on this screen here." She pointed to a lower monitor near the edge of a table, noticing Yosef nod from the corner of her eye. "Watch it, then rewatch it, and catalogue anything that's important."

Marat gave a short nod before he took a seat in a rolling chair and pulled himself up to the monitor. It wasn't so long ago that he had been in Yosef's seat, but having recently climbed the ladder, he'd spent the last few months far away from the bright screen of any monitors, until now at least.

"Get in touch with Valentin and…" She paused, shaking her head. "Who was it that was outside? He said we had a guy outside that was delivering…?"

Kirill's eyes darted away for a moment before he nodded. "Da. Roman. He took a hit to the arm, but he is fine."

Felicity nodded. "Talk to Roman too, see if he saw anything out of the ordinary before bullets started flying."

"Konechno," Marat answered, abruptly turning toward the screen and taking up a keyboard.

"Kirill, I want you and Nikki to head to the club. Valentin's made sure that nobody is coming or going down there. Grab any bullet shells you can find and get them to Julian. Then ask around the neighborhood, see if anybody saw anything. You know the drill."

She moved past him toward her office once more, her stride quick and purposeful.

In Russian, Nikki asked, "What if no one will speak to us?" He crossed his arms behind his back and tipped his chin down, staring after her, the sharp angles of his face severe.

Felicity paused and looked back at him over her shoulder. "This is Thea," she said, her voice strained. "If you think someone knows something…"

Nikki pursed his lips and then nodded shortly. "Then I will make them speak."

She stared at him a moment longer before finally turning back around and continuing toward the door. "Where is my husband?"

"He returned home early. He was… upset. He is sparring with John and Slade now," Kirill informed her, keeping pace at her back.

Felicity walked downstairs, shedding her jacket as she went. "Spasibo, Kirill."

Kirill and Nikki bowed their heads at her before they left, walking out the front door with Nikki muttering Russian obscenities under his breath.

Felicity distractedly laid her jacket over the bottom of the banister in the foyer and quickly made her way through the lower half of the mansion, her heels clicking on the floor.

"Are you sure you want to go in there?" Sara wondered, walking beside her. "You know how surly he gets when he's angry."

"He's worried about Thea. I understand that. He has every right to be. He'll work off the anger with the boys. That doesn't mean I shouldn't check in with him." Felicity didn't say it, but she knew that most of Oliver's anger was really just fear in disguise. He was always worried about what could happen to the people closest to him, and he lashed out when he lost control in any way. She understood that, even if, logically, she knew that there were some things that couldn't be controlled. Their lives were always on the brink of chaos, too close to the unhinged and uncontrolled not to be.

When she walked into the sparring room, she could hear the click-clack of kali sticks slapping together, directing her where to go. She found Oliver, barefoot, in the center of the mats, arms weaving in every direction as he staved off attack from both Slade and John, who were giving him no quarter as they moved closer and closer, attempting to hit him from every available angle.

Maybe it was anger, that same rage she could still feel stirring in her own gut, but Oliver was completely focused, his every sense narrowed down to the fight. He was ducking and moving, avoiding, narrowly, every reaching arm and stick that came his way. He twisted himself, bringing both sticks down on John, one across the face and the other hard on his shoulder. As John whirled away in pain, cursing under his breath, Oliver lashed out with a kick to the hip, knocking John to the ground before he twisted, catching an incoming blow from Slade with one stick while he leapt out of the way of the other. Oliver caught his footing and pivoted back to face him. Slade was grinning savagely, spittle leaving his lips as he laughed.

"C'mon then, brother. Let it all out," he coaxed before lunging forward.

Oliver met him in the middle, his teeth bared viciously. He parried each swing of the kali stick Slade made and turned himself, leaping up a few inches and coming down heavy, jamming his elbow down into the socket of Slade's shoulder. Slade cried out angrily and stumbled forward. Oliver used it to his advantage, bringing both sticks down on Slade's back, plunging him forward onto his knees.

Just as John was getting to his feet once more and Slade was pushing himself up, breathing heavy and face red, Felicity stepped forward. "Enough."

All three men turned toward her, sweat dripping from their flushed skin. There were welts on each of them, red in color and deepening with time. Even Oliver, for all that he'd avoided most of their attacks was still bruising in places.

"I'd like a moment with my husband," she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument.

John and Slade exchanged a look, glanced at Oliver, and then stepped off the mats.

"John, Marat is upstairs in the office. He's going over tape at Verdant. See if you can help, please? Then you and Slade can call Kirill and Nikki, they've gone to Verdant to check out the area, find out what they've learned."

Slade scoffed. "Should probably head over there myself. They won't know what to look for."

Felicity nodded. "Wherever you think your skill set fits." Just as he was about to leave, she reached out, her hand finding his arm. "And the boy that helped Thea… Roy Harper?" She stared up at him meaningfully.

Turning serious, Slade nodded. "Done."

Sara hopped down off a table she'd been sitting on. "That's my cue too, I take it?"

Felicity turned back to her, sighing. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You've got a lot on your mind." She shrugged before adding a wink and saying, "We've got a gala to get ready for anyway. I'll dig out my finest and see you back here in a few hours."

"Thanks, Sara."

"Always." She smiled warmly and squeezed Felicity's shoulder before she started toward the door.

As it closed behind her, the room was left quiet.

The tension was thick as Oliver paced, rolling his shoulders and squeezing his hands around the kali sticks. Felicity watched him as she leaned down, lowering the back zipper on her boots and slipping them off. She lined them up and put them aside before she stepped, barefoot, onto the mats. She walked to him calmly, taking deep breaths through her nose, trying to control her own anger at the situation. When she reached the center, she stared up at him, watching as he came to a stop, one of his knees jumping with leftover energy. Her hands found his and unfolded his fingers from around the sticks; she took them from him and padded away to put them with the others.

When she looked back at him, he was picking at one of his thumbs with his forefinger, his upper chest flushed, sweat dotting his skin. "You're upset."

"Yeah, I'm upset. I'm— I don't—" Frustrated, he shook his head. "It's Thea. She's not even really part of this. She's just… She's innocent."

Felicity gazed at him a long moment before saying, "None of us are innocent. Thea might not have blood on her hands, but you're wrong. Oliver, she's family. She's a part of this. She has been from the beginning." The walk toward him was slow, feeling him out, letting him find his calm once more. "I don't want her to be a target any more than you do. But she is. And we have to take precautions for that."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Precautions. Like Valentin and his guys."

"Valentin is loyal. You know that. He cares about Thea. He'd take a bullet for her." Before he could argue, she added, "But you're right. She needs someone closer. And if Valentin is focused on the bar as a whole, he can't be focused on her as an individual. Which makes getting to her too easy." Chewing her lip, she shook her head. "I know she doesn't want a guard on her, but… At least until we deal with this situation…"

"She thought of that. Apparently she already has someone in mind."

Felicity's brow furrowed. "Already?"

He offered a sarcastic smile. "This Harper kid… I don't know. Valentin said he was the one that got her to safety and Thea… Thea says she likes him and if we want a detail on her, she wants it to be him."

"A detail is a lot more than one person," Felicity muttered, her lips pursed.

He sighed. "This is her way of bargaining apparently."

Felicity nodded, reaching up to press her fingers to her chin thoughtfully. "What do you think?"

"I think she should move home. That we could keep her safer here, surrounded." He stretched his neck, rolling his head side to side. "But I also know her… I know she'll find ways to sneak out because she doesn't like being under watch. And I know that forcing her to come home will only make things worse. Which means that I'm going to have to agree with her. I don't know about Harper, but I do know that she's not going to be happy if I turn her into some Rapunzel reject."

Felicity smiled slowly then. "That sounded halfway understanding…" She stared up at him searchingly. "Are you sure that's what you want to do? You know I'll support your decision, but I don't want it to stress you out either."

Blowing out a sigh, he nodded and reached for her, his hands squeezing her upper arms gently. "I know. And I appreciate that." Thumbs stroking over her shoulders, he tugged her forward, until she was pressed to his chest, his chin atop her head. "I didn't even think… You were out with her this morning. You could've been there when they—"

"I wasn't." She slung her arms around his waist, letting her chest rest against his warm, damp skin. "I was at City Hall, safe and sound. Thea and I parted ways more than an hour before the drive-by." She rubbed her hands up and down his back soothingly. "Come on… We have a few hours before the gala and you're still tensed up. Let's get a shower and…" She tipped her head back to smile at him, a brow raised. "See what we can do about loosening you up."

He grinned back slowly. "I like your coping mechanisms."

She laughed. "Yeah, well, I have some excess energy of my own I'd like to burn off. And since the guys are already looking into the situation and Thea is alive and well, I think the Kapitan deserves a break, don't you?"

Hugging her to his side as they started walking to the door, he said, "Absolutely."

…

Roy was still feeling the buzz of adrenaline running through his system an hour after the shootout ended. Thea barely seemed fazed. Sure, when it first happened, she froze up, but afterwards, it was like she'd seen too much to worry about one near-fatal shooting. She was running around the bar, ordering people to move the, miraculously unharmed, crates of liquor inside, without a hitch in her step. Roy was still trying to wrap his head around the part where he was her personal bodyguard.

"So, you'll be meeting some of the guys soon. You might want to work on your tough-as-shit face," Thea announced as she breezed past him to the bar, clipboard in hand.

"My what?"

"Your tough-as-shit face." Rolling her eyes at his confused expression, she explained, "You know, that face guys make when they meet someone they know can twist them into a pretzel but are trying to pretend they aren't pissing themselves on the inside."

"And I'll be pissing myself because…?"

"Well, last I checked, Kirill and Nikki were coming. Kirill's nice, usually, but Nikki is terrifying on his best day. And if I know him, and I do, then Slade will head down too. Mostly because he doesn't trust anybody to do anything as good as him."

"What are they coming down for?"

She raised her eyebrows in a 'duh' fashion.

He sighed. "Besides the obvious."

"Just the obvious," she said, shaking her head. "They'll want to see the alley themselves, talk to everyone, make sure everybody has the same story, and then they'll probably ask around, see if anybody saw the car come in or knows who owned it. You know, Sherlock it. And if that doesn't work, scare the shit out of the locals so they fear them more than whoever was in that car. Easy-peasy."

As if her simply saying it called them, the doors to the club opened and two men in expensive, tailored suits entered. They were both about the same height, but the brunet was broad shouldered, thick across the chest, with a five o'clock shadow, while the other was slim, his black hair shaved on the sides and slicked back on top, and clean shaven with a cruel tilt to his mouth. Roy didn't need her to tell him which was which; he knew the slim man was Nikki; his entire countenance screamed violent.

They walked across the room toward Thea, hardly sparing Roy a glance.

"You look well," Kirill said, reaching for her.

Thea met him in the middle and let him squeeze her hands. "I am. A little shook up, but…" She blew out a breath. "Not a scratch on me, so that's something."

"Khorosho. They'll be glad to hear. They're both worried."

"I know." She brought her hands back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Honestly, it's no big deal. Roy grabbed me in time, so…"

Their gazes suddenly darted to the left to land on him and Roy found himself standing a little taller, his chin raised.

"Kirill, Nikki, this is Roy Harper. He was with Roman when everything went nuts and… well, made sure I kept my head down," Thea told them.

"I just got you out of the way. You probably would've been fine without me," Roy dismissed, shrugging.

"Maybe. But I did freeze up for a second, so, either way, I appreciate the save."

Kirill looked Roy over thoughtfully. "You were working with Roman?"

Roy nodded, pursing his lips. "I was moving merchandise. I was at the warehouse working for Anton; he said I could make a few extra dollars delivering here. We got a few boxes unloaded when a car pulled up and started shooting. I was on the platform, carrying in a crate when I saw, uh, Miss Queen, in the line of fire…" He shrugged. "Just made sense to duck and cover after that."

Kirill hummed, nodding.

Nikki's eyes narrowed. "On molod. Malen'kiy mal'chik. Yedva iz pelenok," he muttered, lip curled.

Kirill was solemn as he replied, "My vse kogda-to byli."

Thea frowned between them and shook her head. "Anyway, I already talked to Ollie. I know everybody's freaking out, but I have a solution. Roy will guard me, at least until we figure out what's going on and who thought shooting up my club was a smart idea."

Kirill shifted his feet. "He has… agreed to this?" he asked skeptically.

"He hasn't… not agreed," she hedged. "Look, I brought it up. Valentin's great, but he has his hands full most of the time and, no offense, but I don't want a whole mob of you guys shadowing me everywhere I go. So, just Roy. We've already talked and he'll be with me tonight at the gala."

"And after, when you open the club?" Kirill wondered.

Thea glanced to her side and Roy, catching her look, nodded.

Sighing mentally, Roy realized his work day just got a whole lot longer.

"Eto bezumiye," Nikki sighed.

Kirill shrugged. "Vozmozhno." To Thea, he said, "Nikki and I will examine the alleyway. We will also be talking to people who might have seen something."

"Check with the laundromat down the road," Roy suggested. "They have cameras outside their joint that face right toward the alley. If they stopped to cover their faces, might be on camera."

Kirill nodded at him, but Nikki was still staring at him through suspicious, narrowed eyes. As they turned to walk away, Nikki called back, "Stay safe, Printsessa."

Thea rolled her eyes, muttering, "Asshole" under her breath before she turned back to Roy. "All right. They're going to be busy doing that and I need a drink. But, since I've only got a few hours before this gala, we need to get out of here."

Roy shifted his feet and cleared his throat before telling her, "Yeah, about that, I don't really have a suit…"

Grabbing up her clipboard, she started toward her office, climbing the stairs entirely too agilely for someone on such steep heels. Putting away her paperwork and grabbing up her jacket and purse, she turned to him, looking him over, and then nodded. "All right. Well, we'll just have to improvise."

"Improvise how?" he wondered, following her out of the office.

Smirking at him, she dug her phone out of her purse and thumbed four on her speed dial. It rang twice before it was picked up.

Thea smiled at whoever greeted her on the other end before saying, "Preferably? Vodka and a shoulder to cry on. But for right now, a suit would be awesome." She nodded along to whatever they were saying before answering, "About six foot, think Valentin, but not quite as tall…" There was a pause and then a bright smile. "Great. Thank you. You're a lifesaver, Raisa, seriously. Mmhmm. Yeah. No, I know." She turned her eyes up, but it wasn't so much with exasperation as it was affection. "I love you too. Okay. I'll see you tonight. Bye." After she hung up, she turned to him. "Okay. So, we'll have a suit for you, pressed and ready tonight. Just to be sure it fits, we'll have to get to the house a little early. Raisa's going to ask a few of the guys what they can offer up on short notice."

Roy shifted a little, grimacing. "I don't need charity."

She snorted. "It's not charity. It's what we do." Walking to the sleek, red Porsche waiting for her, she looked back at him over her shoulder. "Look, you want to be in this life, you need to fit the part. The ratty red hoodie might work for moving merch around, but you're going to be standing next to me at a very public event. I can't have you looking like you just rolled out of junior high. You'll borrow this suit and tomorrow we can go shopping for something more your style, all right?"

He pursed his lips, but nodded. There was no point in arguing with her, especially if she had a point. He would be doing this, shadowing her, for who knew how long, and he needed to blend in if he planned on staying. He'd never expected to get in this way, but if this was his one opportunity, he wasn't going to waste it.

"Good. Now let's go. I need to get ready and then we need to head back to the manor. Where you get to be scrutinized by my brother." She grinned. "If you thought Kirill and Nikki were scary, wait until you meet Ollie on a bad day."

While Thea's eyes were full of good humor, Roy couldn't help but think of the files Lance had on Oliver Queen and associates. He remembered the picture of the Kapitan, the brutal and unforgiving plains of his face, the strength and violence that seemed to seep from his pores.

Oliver Queen, when seen by the public masses, seemed like a charitable businessman who could charm anybody and had settled down from his once wild days. But the Kapitan of the Bratva, the man Lance had introduced Roy to on paper, was a cold blooded killer that would do anything to succeed and keep his people safe. He was a controlled kind of vicious that could just as soon shake his hand as break it. Roy wanted to be strong, he wanted to be unafraid, but that would be stupid. Because fear was a survival mechanism, and as much as he might not like to view it that way, he was playing a game of life or death.

…

Felicity giggled, her head falling back, and her fingers furled in his hair. "I'm supposed to be getting dressed, not undressed…" she reminded.

Oliver grinned, pressing a kiss to her thigh as he rolled her stocking down her leg, revealing more soft, supple skin. Despite her paltry protests, she spread her legs for him, watching him through hooded eyes as he knelt in front of her, having turned the bench seat in front of her vanity so she was facing him. Wearing only black panties and the garter belt to clip her stockings to, she was stunning. One of his hands swept over her stomach and up her side, fingers teasing her ribs, mouth spreading in a smile as she choked on a laugh. His palm smoothed up her back, pausing briefly at the scar over her shoulder blade, where a bullet wound of old was still puckered. He pressed his mouth against her leg with a little more enthusiasm, licking a strip upward and tugging at the clip straps that hung, unused.

He moved his hand around, rubbing gentle circles over her shoulder, before sliding it down her chest, fingertips spread out. She arched herself forward, pressing into his touch as his fingers swept past one of her nipples before he cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing across the center, teasing her lightly.

"Oliver," she huffed his name impatiently.

He nipped at her thigh and dropped his hands to her hips, taking either side of her under in hand and giving them a tug. She pressed her hands down against the bench seat and lifted herself as he dragged the, now damp, fabric down her legs, tossing them to the floor before his hands met her knees and kept them open. He stared up at her for a moment, watching as her teeth dug into her bottom lip, a flush filled her cheeks, and her pupils dilated.

He leaned up then, a hand fitting behind her neck and drawing her down. Their mouths slanted together, and he let out a long, content sigh. He pressed quick, pecking kisses to her mouth before he sucked on her bottom lip, let it go with a pop, and dragged his mouth down her chin. Felicity's head fell back as his lips caressed her neck, teeth gently scraping. He slid his hand down to her shoulder and the slope of her arm, the tips of his fingers gliding smoothly over her skin. His other hand ventured up her thigh, squeezed her hip, and journeyed to her ribs, thumb stroking side to side.

Kissing each of her clavicles, Oliver dragged his chin down the middle of her chest, pausing in the valley of her breasts. He looked up at her, his head tipping to the right, cheek rubbing against her nipple. She smiled down at him, her lips stretching wider as he grinned back. He cupped his hand under her breast and wrapped his smiling lips around her nipple, tongue swirling and teeth cradled around it. As his other hand found hers, he raised it, putting it on his shoulder, and slid his arm around her waist, his hand sweeping up her back, teasing her skin with light brushes of his fingers. He switched to her other breast, kissing all around her nipple, nuzzling his nose downward and pressing his mouth to her ribs as she arched back, breathing a little heavier.

His mouth wandered down her front, pressing slow, lingering kisses all over her stomach, feeling her tremble under his mouth, her hand squeezing his shoulder. He kissed her from her belly button, straight up to her mouth, biting her chin playfully as he went. Her eyes were half-lidded and warm with affection and want. Her lips pressed to his urgently, while her hands dipped down his chest, fingers spread wide, trying to touch as much of him as she could at once. He leaned into her kiss, burying a hand in her damp hair and holding on tight.

When her fingers finally reached his cock, he let out a deep groan, shifting in her grip, leaning his chest in even as his hips pulled away. This wasn't about him. He'd had more than enough in the shower. No, he wanted to see her come apart. He wanted to hear her cry his name as he made her fall to pieces. He reached for her hands, one of his spanning both of her wrists, and he pulled them up, his other hand finding her leg and hitching it over his shoulder.

Pulling away from her mouth slowly, he stared into her eyes a long moment before finally falling back to sit on his heels, dropping his head to her knee and pressing a soft kiss there. His mouth smoothed down her thigh then, tongue and teeth periodically nipping at and licking her skin. Her fingers dug into the cushion of her seat, her shoulders raising and her chin falling, as she watched his progress.

When his mouth finally met the juncture of her thighs, he started off slowly, kissing around her pussy with small, gentle flicks of his tongue, building her up, watching her squirm, before he dragged his tongue from the bottom of her slit to the top. She opened her legs wider, letting out a little whimpering noise as he kissed her, suckling her between his lips, tongue dabbing. One of her hands fit behind his neck, fingers curled down, nails biting at his nape.

Oliver could remember a time when a woman's fulfillment hadn't been anywhere near the top of his priority list. He'd been young and a selfish lover, putting himself before anyone else. It had suited him fine for the time. Though it often left his partners to finish themselves off, there was no shortage of women looking to hook up with him, especially being the heir of a billionaire. Still, he'd been a good student when it became important. His previous girlfriend had a quid pro quo agreement where she would go down on him as often as he went down on her; needless to say, he made going down on her a regular thing. But it wasn't until he met his wife that he realized giving her pleasure could be just as rewarding as getting his own, and it had everything to do with wanting to know his partner was satisfied in every measure he could offer.

Oliver took his time, teasing and tasting every inch of her pussy, taking cues from the sounds she was making and the way her hips rocked at a certain angle. Sometimes she wanted more pressure, sometimes she wanted less, and he'd long figured out her way of letting him know. So when her breath hitched and her leg dug down on his shoulder, heel pressing against his back, he picked up speed, his lips and tongue focusing on her clit. The first time she came apart, she let out a squeal, her whole body tightening up and then releasing. He moved his mouth away to kiss her thighs then, letting her come down, and when she was a little more loose limbed, a satisfied smile playing at her mouth, he gently worked a finger inside her, curving it upward. It was a gradual build up, aware of how sensitive she could get after she came. Her thighs were slick and her legs were both hung over his shoulder, when he set his mouth on her again, his finger moving a little quicker. It didn't take as long for her to fall apart this time, her clit caught between his lips, and then she was scratching at his shoulders and crying his name, shaking her head even as she pressed herself against his mouth, silently asking for more. He didn't pause this time, instead he built off the last orgasm until she shattered for a third time, the noise that pulled from her throat echoing off the walls of their bedroom. And when she pushed at his shoulders, then he knew she was done, and he sat back on his heels, licking his lips and grinning at her.

Felicity was panting, sweat clinging to her flushed skin. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, sliding off the bench on wobbly legs and falling to her knees in front of him, her chest pressed to his and her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers threaded in his hair.

Her kisses were lazy and full of contentment, brushing over his mouth and his cheek before she buried her face at his shoulder and just hummed. He rocked her a little, side to side, as his hands rubbed her back soothingly.

"Feel better?" she wondered.

"Mmhmm," he murmured, before sliding a hand down to palm her ass, squeezing gently. "I'll feel better after a nap."

"'Kay." He lifted them both up onto their feet, steadying her when her knees shook, and grinned proudly when she wobbled off to the bathroom to clean up before rejoining him in the bed.

She shucked off the garter belt, shimmying her hips as she went, and climbed onto the bed, crawling toward him and dropping down with little to no finesse, letting her head rest on his chest as her arm wrapped around his waist. He smiled, bending to kiss the top of her hair, and reached across to the bedside table to set the alarm on his phone.

An hour. That was all they could waste before she would have to get back to dressing up for the gala and he could check in with everyone on the status of the afternoon's attack on Thea. Reminded of it once more, his mind soon clouded with 'what if's' and how the afternoon could have ended dramatically different.

"Hey." Felicity turned her head, looking up at him knowingly. "She's okay. She wasn't hurt. And worrying about it doesn't change it. We'll take precautions, we'll be more prepared, it's the only thing we can do."

He knew she was right, even if something heavy settled in his gut. Preparation might help, but it didn't make promises that next time, whoever came for his sister, for his family, wouldn't be successful.

Stroking a curl of hair back from Felicity's face, he settled his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.

They would prepare and take precautions, but more than that, they would find out who came for them and why, and then they would make them pay. Because nobody came for his family, took a shot at his sister, and walked away from it.

…

Ren scowled as he stared at the call display on his cell phone. With an irritated sigh, he hit Answer and raised it to his ear. "What?" he bit out.

"This was not in the plan, Lin. I told you that I had something in the works."

Grounding his teeth, Ren scrubbed his fingers over his eyes. "I understand that. Unfortunately, my men were… anxious, and they decided to take matters into their own hands." He stared down at the last of four bodies currently being rolled up in garbage bags by Gang and Li while Ping started unraveling duct tape to keep the bags in place. "The situation has been dealt with."

A long, severe sigh answered him. "This makes things difficult. Queen is aware of what happened. More people will be on guard tonight."

"Look, I get it, but your plan was risky already. You want to cancel, do it, but don't put it on me." He scraped a hand back through his hair and paced away from the bodies. "You said we would have retribution. Last I heard, Thea Queen was still walking the earth. In fact, all of Queen's people are still breathing. So where's my revenge, huh?"

"You'll get it much sooner when you learn to keep your people in check."

"Disobedience isn't overlooked in my crew. I said it's been handled and it has. No one makes another move on the family, not directly, without word from me."

"And you don't make a move unless I tell you to."

Ren clenched his teeth together, turning his eyes up to the ceiling of the damp warehouse. "You make a lot of assumptions about how much disrespect I will accept, Russian."

A low, amused chuckle answered him. "This partnership is beneficial for me, for both of us. But make no mistake, if you become a liability, I will destroy you, your entire crew, and that pretty little sister of yours."

Ren balled a hand up into a fist, the pressure on his knuckles helping to reign in the flash of intense and violent anger that rippled through him. "Understood," he bit out.

"Tonight will continue as planned. Make sure you and your people are seen elsewhere. There will be no ties directly to you."

"Done."

"And Lin?"

He waited.

"Fuck this up in any way, and I will feed you your own organs, one by one."

A click followed, and Ren lowered his phone as the call ended, a tick pulsing at his jaw. Closing his eyes a moment, he tried to find his calm, but all he could think of was his sister's face when he'd seen her last, telling him to get his life together.

Finally, he opened his eyes and turned around, shouting at the three men in Mandarin, "Hurry up! I want these bodies gone. Destroy any evidence they were tied to us. No one can know we were involved."

Gang, Li and Ping each nodded and quickly started gathering up the bodies for disposal.

Ren left the warehouse and made his way to his car. As much as he didn't like the Russian's threats, it was the nature of his job. He was the one who thought he could make a better life for himself trading on secrets with a Bratva soldier, now he had to live with that decision.

…

Thea's penthouse suite was something Roy could only dream of. Stairs led up to a loft bedroom while the living room, dining room, and kitchen were all open space, aside from a few stabilizing beams. Floor to ceiling windows looked out on the best part of Starling City and the hardwood floors were waxed to a shine. As he stepped through the front door, he found himself worrying about the state of his shoes and what he might have stepped in.

Thea didn't seem worried at all, shedding her jacket and tossing her purse over an arm of her ivory white couch before walking to the stairs leading to her room, her hips swaying.

Roy lingered at the door. Should he follow her? Just what kind of boundaries were there on this bodyguard gig? Was he supposed to be within sight at all times or…?

"There's plenty of food in the fridge. Help yourself. It's gonna be a bit for me to get ready. TV's got plenty to watch. Just don't drink anything. Showing up sloppy drunk isn't going to sell the fam on having you take over my security."

As she climbed the stairs, he shrugged, walking to the kitchen. "Uh, about that," he shouted after her. "What exactly am I supposed to do?"

Thea's voice carried down from her room, though muffled from the distance. "Mostly? Just keep an eye out for skeevy, murdery types."

He snorted.

"Look, I know today wasn't exactly a selling point, but my life really isn't that dramatic. I run my club, I hang out with my friends, I go to boring galas every once in a while, and I spend a lot of time with my family. Today was more of a… once in a blue moon situation, you know? Most people don't have the balls to come after me."

He nodded thoughtfully as he perused her fridge and dug out all the makings of a good sandwich. Laying it all on her island counter, he searched around for some bread and a knife before turning his attention back to the discussion at hand. "Shouldn't I have some kind of training though?"

There was a long pause then; whether she was busy or thinking, he couldn't be sure. But then she appeared, resting her arms on the railings that made up the wall of her room, overlooking the rest of the apartment. She wore a black, lace bra on top, but he couldn't see much of her lower half, not with the way she was standing.

"Since that will probably be the first thing my brother points out, yes, you should, which is why I'm sure he'll suggest you start showing up to the house regularly and working with Slade and John. Well, he'll probably suggest himself actually, but he's got enough on his plate. You're better off working with Slade and John anyway. They taught Ollie everything he knows."

"So, who's going to be watching out for you while I'm training?"

"Me. Genius. I'll probably be on the property anyway." She shrugged. "And if I get bored, I can just tag along with Felicity and Sara."

"You know, you're taking this pretty easy…" he pointed out, waving the butter knife, smeared in mustard, toward her. "Shouldn't you be freaking out? You said yourself it doesn't happen regularly."

Inhaling deeply, Thea let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know. I guess I was freaking out a bit when it was happening. But… This is the life I live. I might not get shot at every day, but did I know there was a chance of it happening? Yeah. I did."

"That's… logical. I guess."

With a snort, she rolled her eyes, shrugging. "Whatever. I'm going to shower and get ready. Then we can head over to the house and see what Raisa's found for you to wear tonight."

Roy nodded, focusing back on his sandwich, soon layered with three kinds of meat, tomato, a slice of Havarti cheese, pickles, and fresh, green lettuce between two soft slices of bread. Pouring himself a tall glass of milk, he dusted his hands off and circled the island to take a seat on the stool before digging into his food. If this was the life he had to look forward to, for the time being, he could get used to it. Sure, eventually he would have to throw Thea and her family under the bus, but that was the hand he was dealt. She seemed nice, good people even, but like she said, this was the life, and just as she knew she could get shot at, she had to know that her family could also be taken down, piece by piece. She probably wasn't expecting to be such a vital cog in the machine that would do it, but those were the breaks.

…

Oliver watched, chin balanced on the pillow balled up under him, as Felicity slid her stockings up her legs and attached the straps to them. It was probably a figment of his imagination that time slowed, but he'd long gotten used to that sensation when it came to her.

"You're staring," she told him, her mouth quirked at the corners.

"For good reason."

She laughed under her breath and raised an eyebrow. "They're just legs, Oliver. You've seen them every day for six years."

He grinned. "And I never get tired of them."

Shaking her head, she reached over to grab her hair brush and brandished it at him. "Your enthusiasm is noted, but I've already had to take another shower. So keep your hands to yourself, mister." With that, she turned her attention to brushing through her long hair, damply hanging down her bare back.

Shucking off the sheet wrapped around him, he hopped off the bed and walked to her. His hands found her shoulders, and a smile stretched his lips as she shivered, leaning into his touch. He brushed his thumbs over her soft skin and bent to press a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll take any and all distractions with me then. I need to check in with Slade and Diggle anyway."

As he started toward the bathroom, she called his name.

Pausing, he looked back at her, searching her face.

She was quiet for a long moment, her hair pulled forward over one shoulder, water dripping down her chest. "I'm sorry about Thea. I know you're worried about her, and you have every right. So if you want to do something, if you want to get her out of the country until whatever this is blows over… We can do that. She won't like it, she'll definitely fight it, but we can talk to her about it. It'll still be her decision, but I'll support you if you want to bring it up."

Oliver took a moment to let her words resonate and nodded slowly. "I want to bring it up, and I think we should. With what's been happening at the docks and now this, it feels like something's coming. Something big. But you're right, it has to be her decision. I don't think she'll go for it, but I still want to talk to her about it."

Felicity nodded, inhaling deeply. "Okay. We'll talk to her tonight, after the gala."

He half-smiled, dipped his chin agreeably, and then moved deeper inside the bathroom.

As he turned the taps on the shower and stepped under the hot spray, his mind wandered on him.

Six years ago, he'd seen the opportunity to what was happening, to what was being offered to him, and he'd taken it, latched onto it, choosing not to look too hard at the downsides because the upsides seemed so vitally important to maintaining the life and legacy that he wanted. But now, with things going so wrong, with his sister the target of a drive-by, he found himself looking back on that memory and wondering if maybe he'd been too eager to prove himself, to have stability of some kind, that he'd been just as irrational and impulsive as his parents told him he was.

But even knowing that, even knowing that his life, the people around him, weren't as stable or as safe as he'd wanted, he couldn't find it in himself to regret his decision.

Six years ago, Felicity walked into his life, and nothing could convince him that was a bad thing.

A half-hour later, when Oliver stepped out of the shower, he found the bedroom empty; Felicity's dress still hung from a hook inside the opened closet door, but her robe was missing. Walking to the closet, he dug around for something to wear. There was still a couple hours before they had to go and if he didn't plan on spending it in a constricting suit. Finding a nice sweater and a pair of jeans to wear, he quickly changed, and soon made his way into Felicity's office. The hidden bookcase door was open wide and, as he stepped inside, he wasn't surprised to see Marat staring hard at a monitor, writing in a book in front of him, his brow furrowed thoughtfully.

"Have you found anything?" he asked abruptly.

Looking up, Marat turned in his chair to face him. "They wore bandanas around their faces, but I did get a license plate off the footage and I contacted Julian, he has someone running it now."

Oliver nodded shortly, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared at the screen, lips pursed. "Play it for me."

Spinning his chair back around, Marat restarted the footage from just before the attack.

Oliver stepped closer, his eyes sharp as he took in every inch of what was being shown on screen. He had Marat play it three times before stepping back.

"Who was it that was delivering?" he wondered.

"Roman…?" Marat hummed, glancing at his book once more, and nodded. "Da. Roman."

Oliver blinked. "He's new?"

"Somewhat. He's been with us for a year, perhaps more. He's only recently earned his stripes."

"That's him there?" Oliver pointed to the broad-shouldered man, his dark blonde hair slicked back. He wore a pinstriped dress shirt and the glint of gold caught the camera from a thick necklace. As the footage played a fourth time, Roman finished talking with an irritated Thea, who quickly put her attention back on her clipboard and walked away.

"So this one here…" Oliver pointed to a much slimmer man, swamped in a too-large red hoodie, carrying product up the stairs to the loading dock.

"Harper," Marat told him. "He is the one that saves Thea."

Oliver watched, brow furrowed, as the car suddenly pulled up and four bodies leaned out the window, guns raised. Thea was just reaching for the door, seconds away from safety, when the bullets start flying.

It was clear even in the few seconds that passed that Thea was frozen; Oliver recognized the signs. She'd been shocked stiff, and if it wasn't for Harper—

Dropping a crate of alcohol to the floor of the dock, the boy was a blur of red as he darted forward. Bullets sprayed the ground and across the dock, but he was quick, hustling across the floor, his head bowed. Without pause, he wrapped an arm around Thea's waist and yanked her out of view, pushing her against the wall, and, with a sharp tug of his hand, the metal door of the dock fell closed, covering them.

Oliver turned his attention back to the car as it rolled by, spraying the ground, taking out the windows on the truck, blowing out a tire, winging Roman in the arm as he ran for cover, and then it sped off down the alley, out of sight.

It had happened quickly, two minutes tops, but the damage was done, and the message was clear.

A muscle ticked in Oliver's cheek.

"So we have a license plate. Anything else?"

"I'm running facial recognition software, but with how well they covered their faces…" His expression was grim as he gave his head one sharp, telling shake.

Nodding, he ground his teeth. "Any word from the others?"

"Kirill checked in. He is bringing more footage from a laundromat outside the alley. He says that Nikki is talking to people but nobody can identify who was driving."

"Fine. Keep me updated. I want any news sent directly to me," he decided, before turning on his heel to leave. He paused near the door then and turned back. "Marat?"

He shifted in his seat to face Oliver, a brow raised.

"This Harper… Do we have anything on him?"

"He is relatively new. He has mostly been working under Anton, loading and unloading product."

"And he was given a job at Verdant?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"Anton said there was an issue with Viktor. He's been… distracted lately. Always on the phone. So he offered Harper a chance."

Oliver nodded slowly and then tapped a hand against his leg. "I want everything you can find on him. And I want it before I leave for the gala. I don't care if you or Yosef do it, I just want it in my hands before I go. Understood?"

"Da."

"Khorosho."

Oliver stalked out of the room, intent on tracking down John and Slade to see what they'd dug up.

…

Sitting at the vanity in Raisa's bedroom, Felicity admired the various perfume bottles that lined the top. She reached out for one, a pale green in color, and unplugged the glass top, lifting it to her nose. Vanilla and orchid filled her senses. Not bad, but not her favorite. The one Raisa wore most often was the pale pink bottle that smelled like wild roses; that was Felicity's favorite. Placing the bottle back down gently, she braided her fingers together atop the vanity and focused on the conversation at hand.

Felicity's eyes flicked up, catching Raisa's through the mirror. "She asked you to find him a suit? Really?"

"I think she is serious, about having this boy be her guard," Raisa answered, drawing a comb back through Felicity's hair carefully, her fingers moving between separate pieces as she tried to put together an idea of exactly how she wanted it styled. "Nikki said he is young. Too young."

Felicity snorted, brows raised. "Nikki doesn't like anyone. I don't think we should take his word as gospel."

"He has good instincts. And good intentions," she reminded, her tone faintly chastising.

"You're right. I know. It's just… I know Nikki. And sure, he probably thinks he's being careful, but I also know that he doesn't like outsiders. If he had it is way, the Bratva would be a family-only business, which, sure, sounds good, but it's a little idealistic."

"He misses home. He has adapted. It helps that he has Kirill. But Nikki is Russian through and through. He is skeptical, cynical, and too smart for his own good."

"I won't argue there."

"But… you are right. You cannot take Nikki's word for it. You should meet this Roy. See what your gut says, then you will know for certain."

Felicity looked up at Raisa thoughtfully. "Know what?"

"If he is trustworthy. If he can do this job. If…" She paused. "If he is family."

"That easy, huh? Just meet him and know?" She shook her head minutely, stopping as Raisa's fingers pressed for her to stay still.

"What did you tell me the first time you met Slade? Met John?"

Her mouth quirked slightly. "They were already Oliver's men by then…"

"Yes, but you knew, didn't you? You felt it when you saw them, you knew that they were going to be yours, they would be your family. Just like when you met Miss Thea and Miss Sara."

Felicity's mouth softened with a smile. "I did. You're right."

"Da." She nodded. "It is settled. You will meet Roy, and then you will know. And no more stressing about it."

"Okay." She took a deep breath and then let it out, staring herself in the eye through the reflection of the mirror. "What time will they be here?"

"An hour. Two at most," Raisa answered.

Two hours, and she would know if Roy Harper was friend or foe.

…

"You're fidgeting."

"I'm not fidgeting," Roy argued, frowning as he stared out the window.

Thea snorted. "Okay," she muttered, unconvinced. A pause followed before, "Is it my driving? My sister-in-law says I drive like a raccoon that spotted something shiny on the floor."

Roy blinked. "What does that even mean?"

"That I get distracted easily, I don't know. Sometimes she says things when she's nervous, she babbles, and it can be hard to keep up. Or understand." She shrugged. "You get used to it."

"Felicity Queen… babbles?" He frowned, trying to meld the sophisticated woman he'd seen in pictures and on magazines with the image Thea was painting.

"Sure. I mean, not really in public, she's gotten control of it, mostly. But sometimes, when she's stressed or freaked out, then it just kind of gets the best of her. It's cute. Or, well, at least my brother thinks so. He gets all goofy whenever she does it. Seriously. If I didn't love them both, I'd be sickened by them." She waved a hand around and Roy clenched his teeth on the desperate need to tell her to keep both her hands on the wheel. "Most disgustingly in love couple you'll ever meet, I swear."

"I'll keep that in mind," he muttered.

Rolling her eyes, she wondered, "Okay, what is going on with you? You were perfectly fine earlier, when you were Hoovering half the contents of my fridge, shoved together in one sandwich…"

Yeah, he had been. He'd been admiring the view from her penthouse and considering sandwich number three when she'd waltzed downstairs looking, well, he wasn't the kind of guy who used words like 'breathless' but if he was, that was how she looked. But thinking along those lines could only get him into trouble, so he was trying desperately hard not to look at her too long, especially her legs, and she wasn't making it easy.

"Nothing. Just…" He shifted in his seat, "working on my 'tough-as-shit' face."

Her mouth curled up at the corners. "Okay then… Work away."

Truth be told, as much as she was distracting, he wasn't completely lying. He was working on his tough face, because sooner rather than later, he was going to be meeting some of the scariest men in Starling City. The kind of men who, if they so much as considered he might be a snitch, would probably dismember and dispose of him before Thea had a chance to introduce him. That wasn't small. In fact, it was huge, and he was having a lot more than just second thoughts about this whole snitching business. Sure, when Lance spun it, it sounded good. How could 4 million dollars not? But now that he was on his way to passing through the iron gates to hell and facing down the devil himself…? Well, now he was starting to think 4 mill wasn't enough.

Just as the thought solidified in his mind that he could definitely jump out of a speeding car, book it to the train station, and never set foot in Starling City again, Thea took a turn down a long, winding, dirt road, lined with tall, stately looking trees, and led them straight up to the gates of Queen Manor.

Roy said a little prayer in his head and wondered if God might do a guy a favor after ignoring him for twenty-odd years.

When the gates opened instead of mysteriously becoming stuck, he decided that God had had abandoned him again, and likely always would.

"Will you chill?" Thea sighed. "You saved my life today. I hardly think they'll gun you down in the driveway."

Good point, he admitted silently.

Maybe just the foyer of the castle then…

…

Raisa moved through the lower half of the manor, the click of her heels following each step. She slid the sleeve of her cardigan up to check her watch as she clucked her tongue disapprovingly. Just as a tall, rail thin man moved past her, she paused, reaching across to squeeze his arm, getting his attention. "Pyotr, where is Maxim? He was sent to clean the cars and bring them back."

In Russian, Pyotr replied, "Oliver has decided to drive himself. Miss Thea says she will do the same. The town cars have been detailed just in case. They are waiting outside. Maxim went to have Oliver's Lamborghini cleaned."

Raisa shook her head, wagging a finger disagreeably. "Nyet, nyet. Felicity hates the Lamborghini. Too flashy. Have him come back, bring the Aston Martin in."

"Konechno."

Before he could leave, she added, "And tell Maxim he will be driving Miss Thea tonight. I will talk to her. After this afternoon, it is unsafe otherwise. You will accompany them on the drive, ponyal?"

He bowed his head respectfully. "YA ponimayu."

Just as he slipped away, the front door opened, and Raisa turned her attention forward, smiling as Thea stepped inside, a man just behind her.

"Hey!" Thea stepped further into the house, smiling warmly, and reaching for Raisa, whose arms opened immediately, drawing the young woman into a hug. Thea rested her head against Raisa's shoulder, whose cheek pressed atop her head. "I'm fine, honestly. I didn't even get hurt."

"YA vse yeshche bespokoit'sya," Raisa told her, giving her an extra squeeze. "Now. Who is this?"

"Oh. Right. This…" Thea stepped back a bit and turned, waving an arm back toward the sullen and stiff looking young man, "is Roy. He's the guy that saved me from a chest full of bullets. So not in season."

Raisa tisked. "You joke about serious things." She pressed an affectionate hand to Thea's cheek and then turned to appraise Ray, her pale blue eyes sweeping over him from head to toe. He stood especially still, leaned to one side, one of his hands balled up into a fist, and his face, so handsome, was trying desperately to seem unaffected by the situation. Addressing him, she asked, "Vy novyy? Vy russkiy?"

He blinked at her, and then glanced past her to Thea, an eyebrow raising.

Sighing, Raisa muttered, "Bol'she amerikantsev…" With a shake of her head, she held out a hand. "Welcome, Roy. And thank you for your aid in keeping Miss Thea alive and well. Now, I have been told that you will need a suit for tonight, yes?"

"Uh, yeah. Yes." He squirmed a little. "Didn't exactly dress for a gala this morning."

Her mouth quirked at the corner. "No. I expect not." She turned on her heel, crooking a finger for him to follow. "Come. I think I have just the right thing. We will have you looking the part in no time."

Thea nodded agreeably and moved to follow, with Roy at her heels reluctantly.

"Sorry for the short notice," Thea said. "I know you've got a lot on your plate, so adding this on top of it sucks."

"I don't mind. I talked to the boys and they were generous in offering what they could. There is much to choose from and try on." She smirked at Roy over her shoulder. "I hope you have perfected your cat walk."

He snorted, but his mouth curved up faintly at the corners.

Ah, he smiles. And looked all the younger for it.

Raisa led them into one of the guest rooms, where numerous suit pieces were laid out on the bed, some matching, some not. Thea eagerly moved forward, quickly going through the pile to discard whatever she didn't like, while Roy lingered nearby, looking bored.

Amused, Raisa took a seat at a stool near the vanity, smoothing her hands over the legs of her pants. "Let us see what you like, Roy."

He glanced at her, nodded shortly, and then moved forward to look through the clothing. When he lingered on anything with a splash of red, only to have Thea discard every item, she knew it would be a long process.

…

Roy had never hated fashion so much in his life, but, currently, it appeared to be a necessary evil. After more than an hour of arguing with Thea over what piece went with what and which fit him better, he was finally dressed to the nines in a suit that probably cost more than his rent. But, he had to admit, it looked good, and he didn't stand out so much surrounded by the Bond knock-offs walking around the Queen Manor, the majority of whom were talking in Russian and side-eyeing him.

Raisa seemed nice enough. In the files Lance had given him, she'd been listed as head of staff, but from what Roy could tell, that wasn't what she was getting paid for, not when everything she was wearing screamed 'old money.' She was far too dignified and her hands were too smooth for her to be doing any kind of menial work. Given the accent, he figured she was originally from Russia and paperwork calling her head of staff had been mocked up to help keep her in the country. Why, he didn't know. Maybe she had deeper ties to the Bratva than he expected, or maybe the Queens treated their staff a lot better than he'd ever heard of.

Since Raisa had asked for a moment alone with Thea, Roy had wandered off to get a better look at the manor, but so far all he'd managed to do was get himself lost walking down a few corridors. Eventually, he was just glad to be back in the foyer, at least here he knew how to get outside, and back toward safety. Nobody had been outwardly aggressive toward him, but he felt like he was wearing a sign around his neck that singled him out as wrong. Like 'snitch' or 'rat' was written on him for all to see. He knew there was a good chance it was just nerves; he was in a new place where the majority of the people walking past him had no idea who he was. Of course they were going to stare. But he had a secret that could get him killed, and would if he ever let it loose.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus, to get his nerves under control, and checked the time on the watch Raisa had offered him, which was expensive enough to make him wince. Briefly, he considered how much he could hock it for, before common sense reminded him that he would be dead for even trying.

To distract himself, he turned his attention to the table sitting center in the foyer, dressed in various family photos. He turned one with the tip of his finger and found a small Thea Queen beaming up at him. She was young and innocent, her hair much longer and her face still holding the chubby cheeks of pre-adolescence. He briefly wondered if her life had always been surrounded by Bratva or if this was the calm before the storm.

He didn't have long to ponder this thought before a feminine voice interrupted his musings. "You don't look familiar."

Roy flinched before raising his head, only to tip it back further to see Felicity Queen coming down the stairs, the loose, sheer fabric of her dress dancing around her legs. He had a brief moment where thought exited his mind and left him blank. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her move, her shoulders back and her chin tilted high. He'd never seen someone look so regal before.

She offered a half-smile to him, her lips painted the same burgundy color as her dress. "Cat got your tongue?"

As she came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, he shook his head, moving around the table to face her better. "Uh, no, sorry. I—I'm new. Kind of. I—I work for Thea now, I guess."

"Thea," she repeated. "You must be Roy then."

Shifting his feet, he nodded uncertainly. "Yeah. I… guess you heard what happened."

"News like that? It definitely gets around." She searched his face for a moment. "You were working with Roman, weren't you?"

"I was. In the morning. Uh, Anton sent me. I needed to make some extra cash." He winced; that didn't sound good, did it?

Felicity nodded. "I see."

Roy glanced away, feeling nervous, and wondered exactly how he should make his exit. Should he say something or wait for her to dismiss him, or…?

"So, bodyguarding, that must be different from working with Roman. He's more of a delivery guy. How are you liking it?" she wondered, before holding her clutch out for him to take. "Here. Hold that for a sec, my earring is coming out."

Roy obediently took the clutch from her, watching as she reached up, swiping a few stray hairs out of her way and fiddling with her dangling gold earring. Her hair was tied in a low bun with a braid that wrapped around it, leaving her face open. The picture Lance had of her really didn't do her justice; up close, she was stunning. Bright blue eyes, smiling pink lips, he thought he could even see freckles on the bridge of her nose.

"I don't know. It all happened kind of quickly. One minute I'm unloading crates, the next I'm ducking for cover… I guess that's the job I signed up for, but I wasn't really expecting it to happen," he admitted, realizing as soon as he said it just how true it was.

Felicity nodded, her other earring swinging with the movement. "And now? Are you expecting to get shot at again, Mister Harper?"

He glanced down, brow furrowed. "I don't want to. But… I'm not walking in blind, if that's what you're asking. I mean, I don't know Thea well, but I know my job. Keep her safe, keep her alive, do what I have to so she gets home at the end of the day. I can do that. I will do that."

She stared at him a long, thoughtful moment. "My husband doesn't think you're cut out for this." Before he could say anything, she hurried ahead, "Don't take it personally. We could have an entire team on Thea and he still wouldn't think it was enough. But, he has a point. One person isn't a lot of protection between her and a hail of bullets…"

He nodded, but stubbornly declared, "Thea said I could be trained. That I could learn how to be better."

"Not better. More," Felicity corrected. "You're young, and there's a lot to learn. But if you're willing to, if you really want to take on this job…"

"I do," he said firmly.

"Did she make that much of an impression or are you just really eager for a pay raise?" she asked, laughing a little even as her eyes were sharp. He got the sudden feeling that Mrs. Queen was often underestimated.

"From what I've seen, Thea's nice. She's funny and she's been good to me. I'm not gonna lie, I do need the money. But I also like the job. I don't want to be on the docks my whole life, breaking my back moving deliveries." He stood a little taller then. "Look, if I'm not the guy for the job, if I don't work out, if you don't think I can do this even after I've been trained, I'll step down. But I want a chance to prove I can."

Felicity hummed, and then reached forward to take her clutch back. "I like the sales pitch, very underdog wins the day." She smiled at him. "I'll talk to Oliver, but I don't make any guarantees."

She stepped past him, stopping as he quickly said, "You're going to talk to him? For me?" His tone was just short of incredulous.

Turning back to face him, her head tipped a little to the side. "Everybody needs a little support sometimes. And I like you, Roy. You're real. I've spent a lot of time around a lot of very fake people. I don't like being lied to and I don't like it when people try to be something they aren't. So if you want this chance, yes, I can support you in doing it." She reached forward then and readjusted his red tie. "But, make no mistake, if you fail, if at any point you put yourself before Thea, if I think for one second that you can't keep her safe… You're done."

The finality of the word, the weight of what she's said, was so sincere that he felt a pit well up in his stomach. For all that Felicity Queen looked soft and sweet, her oddly regal bearing, fitting with her last name, became all too obvious then. He had no problem seeing her at her husband's side, just as revered as him, never cowering under the weight of the Bratva title and all that it entailed.

"I understand," he said, his voice a little more subdued.

"Good. I'm glad." She smiled then, her face softening once more. "Hopefully you stick around then. We have a sort of revolving door of people around here."

"I don't plan to be that, ma'am."

A tiny laugh escaped from the back of her throat. "Did you hear that, Oliver? I've been ma'am'd."

Roy stiffened, his eyes cutting to the right as Oliver Queen himself stepped out of the hallway. Up close and personal, he was bigger than Roy expected.

Nodding at his wife, Queen stepping up next to her, his hand at the small of her back. "I heard." He kissed her cheek. "Vy vyglyadet' snogsshibatel'no."

Hooking a finger on the lapel of his jacket, she gave it a tug. "Thank you."

Arching a brow at Roy, Queen asked, "Who's this?"

"This is Roy. Which we will talk about later. Because right now, we're just about late."

Oliver's jaw flexed, but he gave a quick, short nod. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his hand sweeping over her back before reaching up to gently squeeze her shoulder.

Her eyes fell to half-mast at his show of affection. "Mm-hmm. Is Digg driving us in tonight?"

"Uh, no. I had Maxim get one of the cars."

Felicity's nose wrinkled. "Please, not the Lamborghini..."

Queen's smile was slow. "What exactly do you have against my favorite car?"

"Uh, everything!" She started ticking off reasons on her hand. "It's ugly, it's flashy, it's a terrible color—"

"What's wrong with green?"

"Nothing. Except the shade your car is. In that case, everything."

He laughed under his breath. "Any other reasons?"

"The seats aren't as comfortable as you seem to think they are."

"Arguable," he said.

"There's no backseat, Oliver."

"We don't need a backseat. We're the only two people in the car," he reminded.

"I definitely need a backseat to lay down in when you make me car sick driving like a maniac."

He scoffed. "Is this about the car or my driving?"

She shrugged. "A little of both."

A cleared throat drew their attention and Roy turned to see John Diggle, who somehow made Oliver Queen's size look average in comparison. Diggle's impressive resume came to mind and, not for the first time, Roy felt out of his depth. He stood no chance against these people and, if they ever discovered he was a rat, he was sure he'd be killed with little effort. And then Lance would no doubt find some other schmuck to take up his mission.

"Car's outside." Diggle nodded his head toward the door. "The Aston, not the Lambo," he informed Felicity knowingly.

While she fist-pumped, Oliver merely half-smiled at her.

"Slade and I will be following behind you," Diggle continued. "Sara called ahead; she's already there and doing a sweep on the hall. And I checked in with Maxim; he and Pyotr will be driving Thea in."

"Great." Felicity beamed. Hooking her arm with her husband's, she hustled him forward, toward the door. Before she stepped outside, she turned back to say, "Nice meeting you, Roy."

"Uh, you too. Ma'am."

Her nose wrinkled a little with amusement at him and then she walked away, towing Queen along with her, Diggle keeping pace beside them.

Roy watched them until the door closed, and then Thea came walking into the room, her heels clicking loudly. "Hey. You ready?" she asked.

He nodded at her and moved ahead to open the door for her to step outside. She winked reassuringly as she stepped past him and Roy took a deep breath before following her out.

Later, he would look back on that day, and know that it was the real beginning. That everything that happened, everyone he met, it was all the first step toward the end.

[Next: Chapter Three.]

Translate:

Konechno. – [Russian] – Of course. (Marat to Felicity; used various other times)

Spasibo – [Russian] – Thank you. (Felicity to Kirill)

Khorosho. – [Russian] – Good. (Kirill to Thea; Oliver to Marat)

On molod. Malen'kiy mal'chik. Yedva iz pelenok. – [Russian] – He is young. Little boy. Barely out of diapers. (Nikki to Kirill about Roy)
My vse kogda-to byli. – [Russian] – We all were once. (Kirill to Nikki)

Eto bezumiye. – [Russian] – This is crazy. (Nikki)
Vozmozhno. – [Russian] – Perhaps. (Kirill to Nikki)

Printsessa. – [Russian] – Princess. (Nikki to Thea)

Nyet, nyet – [Russian] – No, no. (Raisa to Pyotr)
Ponyal? – [Russian] – Got it? (Raisa to Pyotr)
YA ponimayu. – [Russian] – I understand. (Pyotr to Raisa)

YA vse yeshche bespokoit'sya. – [Russian] – I still worry. (Raisa to Thea)

Vy novyy? Vy russkiy? – [Russian] – You are new. Are you Russian? (Raisa to Roy)

Bol'she amerikantsev… - [Russian] – More Americans… (Raisa)

Vy vyglyadet' snogsshibatel'no. – [Russian] – You look stunning. (Oliver to Felicity)

author's note: I'm so sorry this took so long. I've just been distracted with school and moving and I had a back injury that made focusing on writing basically hell. But I'm glad to finally put this up, as it's been percolating in my head for entirely too long. I know a lot of people want to hear about when Olicity first met, and you will, I promise, but I did try to put more Olicity in this chapter to make up for a lack of history. Next chapter is the gala, where you get to see Tommy and Laurel, and where a revenge plot begins to unfold a little more.

For visual aids, I have everyone's outfit on my Polyvore (sarcasticfina), and if you want to see my character page (with attached photos) for reference, check my Tumblr (sarcasticfina); just click on +More and there's a link (Olicity Bratva AU) that will show you everyone who will be playing a part in this story. It will be updated as we go as new faces come in and take on bigger roles.

Thank you all so, so much for your support! I really appreciate every review I've received, and I'm so encouraged by your interest in this story. Please know that I'm completely aware that many of you are wondering about my other Olicity stories, but they are on hold until I finish this one, as it was originally started in order to get my muse back and going for this ship. So updates are coming, but I have no guaranteed date for when, so please don't ask, as I have no answer.

Thank you all for reading! Please leave a review; they're my life blood!

- Lee | Fina