14 / toxicology

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Sandra smiled as Tommy opened the car door for her. "Thank you." 

She took the arm he offered her, stepping out of the car. They had stopped just outside the abandoned steel factory. Though the landscape was familiar to Sandra by now, she felt like a trespasser after weeks of not being here--even more so with Tommy by her side. 

"Well, this is the place," Tommy said, looking around. "Any guesses as to what the hell we're doing here?"

Sandra hummed, pretending to think. "Another kidnapping?"

Tommy groaned. "Oh, God, I hope not."

Sandra's lips quirked in a small smile, one that fell when she saw two figures walk around the corner. Oliver, followed by Diggle. To anyone else, it would have been invisible--but Sandra saw the miniscule falter in his steps, the slight shift in his eyes once he saw Sandra and Tommy walking arm-in-arm.

He took it in stride, as he took everything. "Hey, man," he said, patting Tommy on the shoulder.

"Hey."

"Sandra." Oliver looked at her, face impassive. "It's good to see you again."

She met him with a false smile. "You, too, Oliver. It's been a while." She let go of Tommy's arm to shake Diggle's. "Dig. How are you?"

Diggle gave a dry chuckle, watching Oliver walk off with Tommy. "Nearly at the end of my rope, if I'm being honest."

"He does that to people."

Diggle shot her a look. "Things alright between you two? You seemed tense."

"Everything's fine, Diggle," Sandra said, painted smile not faltering even as she added, "I just got a much-needed reminder of the kind of person Oliver is."

She left the conversation at that, moving to catch up with Oliver and Tommy. Sandra fought to ignore the prickle of discomfort upon having Tommy and Diggle so close to the Foundry. It was right below their feet, now. Someone could drop something heavy and the echo alone could be enough to tip them off. 

They ignored the small side door that Sandra and Oliver usually entered through. Instead, Oliver went to the massive, rusted barn doors, throwing them open with a flourish.

"What do you think?" he asked, voice echoing into the empty space. "Great spot for a nightclub or what?"

Sandra barely held her groan. A nightclub. Of all things, a nightclub

"Sweet," Tommy said, spinning around to take in the whole place. "Although, I gotta tell you man--if you're thinking about calling it 'Queens,' I don't think you're gonna get the cliente you were hoping for."

Oliver chuckled, then pointed at the loft above the main floor. "Private office."

"For the private one-on-one meetings, I would imagine."

"Hopefully the occasional two-on-one meetings."

Sandra rolled her eyes. Oliver played the billionaire playboy act a little too well, sometimes. 

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