Straight Shot ➳ Oliver Queen

07. The Key

C H A P T E R   S E V E N

THE KEY

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Oliver had chosen a strange place to visit on his first day out: his father's old factory. The factory was an old, rusted building that I was surprised was still standing. The tin sides of the building were covered in five years worth of spray paint graffiti. "Queen Industrial Inc. Steel Fabrication & Welding" was still visible painted on the front of the building, but the print was fading and chipping, like the rest of the building. The factory was a part of how Robert Queen had earned his wealth, though I never fully understand all of what Queen Consolidated did. The steel mill was not their only business venture.

Tommy stopped briefly in front of the building and I watched as Oliver gazed out the passenger side window at the factory. There was a flash of remembrance and nostalgia in his face as Tommy and I watched him silently.

"Your father sold it just in time," Tommy commented, glancing at the warehouse. "This entire area's gone to shit. It was like reverse gentrification."

Tommy kept driving and the view of the warehouse faded behind us. Oliver was still watching through the rearview mirror. When he spotted his eyes met mine in the reflection of the mirror, he sent me a quick wink and a tiny smile. Tommy noticed the notion but only responded by shifting the position of his hands on the steering wheel and rolling back his shoulders.

"Your funeral sucked, by the way." Tommy told Oliver in an attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere of the luxury sports car, which happened to be a completely different car than the one Tommy had driven me to the hotel and back in last night.

Oliver responded to Tommy's comment by looking at him with a forced smile. "Did you get lucky?" He said. There was something off about his tone, almost like he was trying to respond how someone else would. As if the was trying to emulate the Oliver of five years ago that would have said the exact same thing.

Tommy glanced at me in the rearview mirror very briefly before giving Oliver a cheeky smile. "Fish in a barrel, my man. They were so sad! And huggy! And–" I rolled my eyes and cut him off with a look as if to say "be very careful what you say next, Merlyn." "But, you know, I wasn't really in the mood." He quickly added with a shrug.

"And Laurel?" Oliver asked, averting his eyes from Tommy's. "How is she?"

"Still pretty pissed." Tommy told him carefully.

I looked down at my clasped hands on my lap. "Ollie, I can't tell you how sorry I am about what I did, it–"

"Kate," Oliver interrupted. "You did the right thing. Don't beat yourself up over nothing." He told me, turning back to reach out and place his hand comfortingly on my knee, a kind gleam in his eyes. I caught a quick glimpse in the rear view mirror of the expression in Tommy's eyes changing, as well, though he had turned to what almost appeared to be jealousy.

Tommy purposefully cleared his throat. "So. Laurel. She's working at the district attorney's office."

"I want to talk to her." Oliver said bluntly.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Ollie. The only person she hates more than me is you." I reminded him. "Sorry." I added quietly, suddenly realizing I wasn't helping.

"I agree with Kate on that one." Tommy said supportively. "I think you should wait a little longer before talking to her."

"I want to talk to her. Now." Oliver repeated and Tommy gave in, realizing this was a fight he would not likely win.