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Two Birds, One Stone

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Please, take care of each other...

 

Those were the last words Oliver had said to her before the feds dragged him away. Shame coloring his cheeks as his head hung low. This was insane!

 

“The judge threw out his case, you can’t do this!” Dinah had protested with Laurel at her side. She hissed into her hands, running her fingers through her dark curls.

 

It was like one devastating blow after another, first Quentin, now this… Like she was being pulled under cold dark water by each harsh ceaseless wave, getting less and less air each time. She could feel Laurel’s hand blindly groping for her own, her fingers were trembling where they laced with Dinah’s.

 

They knew Oliver though, he was stubborn and selfless, but mostly he was theirs . They knew the determined look on his face as he swallowed down the tears. He had just given them all their freedom, but at what cost?

 

“Please, take care of each other…”

 

“Oliver.” Laurel whispered, it was soft and her voice was cracking - it was a glimpse at all of the vulnerability she never let show. Dinah knew there were parts of her partners that she would never understand, pieces of their story that didn’t belong to her. She may have been the latecomer to their complicated relationship, but she still felt a ripple of pain split up her sternum at the sad, teary eyed smile Oliver gave in return. His pretty blue eyes lingered on her and Dinah felt a miserable bubbling heat chew up her insides at the firm, longing look he gave her.

 

Then he was gone.

 

They watched him on the news in Dinah’s apartment, Laurel sitting between Dinah’s outspread thighs on the couch. 

 

“I’m looking to my allies, to my friends, to my partners ,” Laurel sucked in a shaky breath and Dinah hooked her chin over the blonde’s shoulder, holding her a little tighter,

“...and I’m asking them to continue, to keep fighting. I’m asking them to complete our mission.”

 

The video feed stopped, the image going still on Oliver’s face and the haggard look in his eyes. Shortly after the familiar face of the local news anchor returned onto the screen, giving some insight on the recording. 

 

“I’m going to kill him.” Laurel spat as she muted the volume on the tv, evidently uninterested in whatever reporters had to say about the situation.

“Laurel…” Dinah chided gently, finding her girlfriend’s hand where it held the remote in a white-knuckled grip.

 

“Don’t break my remote.” The brunette said softly, as she eased the device from Laurel’s hand before sliding it on the coffee table out of reach.

 

“Why would he do that?” Laurel said, gesturing to the tv, unmoved by the attempt at teasing, though if Dinah was being honest she wasn’t in the mood for teasing either. She was just trying to shoulder the burden, alleviate some of the pressure…

 

Dinah gave a shrug, her chest leaned into Laurel’s back, her breath rushing out as she sighed, blowing a few blonde tendrils where they hung over Laurel’s shoulder.

 

“He thought he was doing the right thing…” Dinah explained, even then the rationalization didn’t satisfy her either.

 

“This - This isn’t right and you know it.” Laurel said in exasperation, and while Laurel could certainly be the more explosive of the two, Dinah found herself agreeing. None of this was ‘right’, Oliver was a hero, he wasn’t supposed to be in prison. The cop in her could only focus on the negative, she could only see their lover surrounded by all the people he’d put behind bars...woefully outnumbered. The canary in her still sought for the glimmer of hope, they needed that if they wanted to get through this mess.

 

“Babe, it’s not always about what’s right, but what you can prove.”

 

Laurel gave a sigh, glancing back over her shoulder at the brunette.

 

“Okay, so how do we prove that this isn’t right?” Laurel drawled, clearly rife with impatience at the whole situation.

 

“In court.” Dinah said simply, feeling Laurel sit a little straighter in her arms. She nosed away some of the hair by Laurel’s neck, pressing a kiss to the available skin there. For the first time since they’d left the hospital, Dinah felt a hint of a smile pull at the corners of her mouth as her girlfriend gave a faint shiver in her arms.

 

“I-” Laurel began, though Dinah gave her a soft, comforting squeeze.

 

“Can’t kill him if he’s behind bars.” Dinah completed the sentence with a smirk, pleased to earn a small laugh from the blonde. It was the first step in the right direction. It was a small step, but it was something.

“True.” Laurel said back with a bright smile that faded as quickly as it had appeared. 

 

“Oliver’s going to need one hell of a lawyer to get him out of prison.”

 

Dinah thought maybe Laurel might’ve needed more encouraging, but after that their birdie was leading the charge. It was a marvel to see her to put her determination to good use. She was a damned force of nature. A force of nature that still needed her girlfriend to iron her suits in the morning and wake her up when she slept through her alarm. Still, Dinah thought Oliver would be proud of the strides Laurel was making, she certainly was.

 

Oliver being in prison seemed to shake everyone’s life upside down, but they persisted one day at a time. At the very least, they had a purpose, to bring their missing piece home.

 

She loved her girlfriend, but sometimes Laurel could be as bullheaded as Oliver...and that was saying something. It was one step forward, two steps back.

 

Please, take care of each other...

 

Oliver’s words still rang loud and clear in her mind, and Dinah was always there. If Laurel slipped up, or seemed to lose her way, or have the homicidal urge to kill an uncooperative judge - well, Dinah was there with all the love and support she could muster.

 

--

 

Laurel had been visiting Oliver religiously, she was his lawyer after all now. While Dinah certainly missed their boyfriend, she wasn’t sure what a visit would do for her other than make her worry. She couldn’t help but notice when Laurel returned from each visit at Slabside practically glowing, reinvigorated and ready to keep on fighting the good fight.

 

It was such a tempting sight and Laurel kept recommending she go…

 

Dinah was chewing nervously at the inside of her cheek, sharp hazel eyes peeking through the plexiglass window when the guards finally brought him in.

 

Oliver stood there in that bland Slabside gray and Dinah felt her stomach drop, her eyes studying the bruises and cuts dappling his skin. Oliver’s features softened from something tired to a hesitant warmth as he sat in the cold metal stool behind the glass, opposite from hers. Dinah quickly picked up the phone hanging on the wall as Oliver did the same.

 

She exhaled a shaky breath as a hint of smile formed on his lips, she could vaguely make out the shadow of a dimple on his cheek beneath all that scruff on his face.

“God, Laurel was right, that beard is terrible.” Dinah said amidst a teary laugh. Oliver’s smile widened into something terribly wonderful and blinding, tears making his eyes even bluer.

 

“I missed you.” He sighed deeply into the phone and Dinah felt her posture wane at the warmth in his tone. Well, now she felt bad for having waited as long as she did. He didn’t seem even the least bit resentful that she hadn’t visited until now. No, he just seemed happy...happy to see her.

 

Oliver’s smile faltered as his eyes moved lower, his free hand coming up to rub at his own neck though Dinah immediately knew what he was looking at.

 

“What happened?” He asked quietly, unable to pull his eyes away from the scar across her throat.

 

Dinah shook her head, curls bouncing as she avoided his gaze. Oliver had this way of making everything his fault.

 

“Nothing that can be changed now.” She said simply, attempting a smile, hoping it would be contagious enough to chase away the persistent frown on his lips. The last thing she wanted was for him to start worrying, or start worrying more for that matter. 

 

She adjusted her grip on the phone where she pressed it to her ear, smiling a bit herself as she stared him; her eyes studying the yellowing old bruises beneath his left eye and strips of medical tape pinching a cut above his eyebrow.

 

“Besides,” Dinah began with a hint of a dimpled smile on her lips, “if I’ve learned anything from you it’s that chicks dig scars.” Oliver laughed now, it was a quiet intimate sound that hit her with a pang of longing, she never thought she would’ve missed that sound.

 

Her phone buzzed where it rested in her pocket, she didn’t have to look to know that it was work related. The glow of the device illuminated the pocket of her blazer. Dinah shifted uncomfortably, now that she was here, she didn’t want to go. Her spine went stiff as a guard pulled up behind Oliver, large and imposing.

 

“Times up, inmate.”

 

Oliver’s lips drew tight into a thin dissatisfied line, though he attempted a smile. Dinah didn’t have the luxury of being Oliver’s lawyer, she was just a cop coming to visit an inmate. It just so happened their respective worlds were pulling them apart…

 

“Oliver,” She whispered into the phone, watching as his grip became iron clad on the phone on his side, “we’re going to get you out...I promise.”

The guard was pulling at him now as Oliver hung up the phone rather reluctantly. The man pulled at Oliver’s shoulder far rougher than Dinah would’ve liked.

 

“Hey!” She snarled through the thick glass earning the ire of the guard pulling Oliver away. Her gaze was unflinching where it bore into that of the guard. Then Oliver gave her a look, a subtle shake of the head. It was a plea more than anything.

 

  Don’t start something you can’t finish

 

Dammit, she was a cop, how many times had she been involved in a case where actions of the outside world landed badly on someone behind bars? They were playing a long game here, and this was just a reminder of it. Any trouble they started would surely make its way back to him. Some people might find it a reason to behave, be quiet, be docile. Not them, this wake up call was just a reminder that they needed to get Oliver home and fast.

 

--

 

She did it, she actually did it! Well, Dinah helped, but Laurel was pleased to note that she had done most of the actual work. They were bringing Oliver home. So, they had done it! She wouldn’t admit that to Dinah, but still. Dinah had helped in other ways, like keeping her from killing the stupid judge - which was still debatable, but whatever - she also helped by doing laundry and helping tidy Oliver’s apartment when Laurel dumped mountains of casework all over the floor. Laurel would give her an A for effort at the very least.

 

Laurel was squirming with excitement, the trade was finally being made! They had caught Diaz and the FBI was holding up their end of the deal, Oliver’s freedom for Diaz. They were following along behind the prison transport vehicle, Captain Dinah Drake and District Attorney Dinah Laurel Lance; civil servants.

 

Diaz was more of a snake than a dragon, slippery bastard needed eyes on him at all times and for once the higher ups agreed. Behind the transport vehicle was a pair of dark SUVs, a small battalion of federal agents would ensure everything went smoothly.

 

Laurel was practically buzzing in her seat as Dinah pulled up behind the transport vehicle in front of the prison. Slabside was a big concrete box wrapped in barbed wire and chain link fences, yet somehow Laurel thought this was too generous of a prison for scum like Diaz. She wouldn’t argue though, she was done arguing right now - they were getting Oliver back.

 

Dinah put the car in park, her hand resting on her service weapon where it was clipped to her belt as they both watched the back doors of the transport truck swing open. Federal agents flocked to the prisoner as the guards escorted him out. Laurel sneered in disgust at the sight of him, she wouldn’t dare look for any longer and risk spoiling her good mood.

 

They watched as Diaz was led into the prison by a pair of guards and the group of FBI agents. Dinah let out a breath when they disappeared behind the prison doors, her hand falling from her service weapon to Laurel’s waiting palm.

 

“It’s taking a long time.” Laurel hissed after what felt like an eternity.

 

“We just have to be patient.” Dinah soothed instantly, though Laurel was familiar with that little crease between her eyebrows, she was nervous too and somehow that provided a bit of comfort.

 

“I’ve been patient for months.” Laurel shot back, her eyes still glued to the front gates of the prison.

 

“So, then waiting a few more minutes should be no problem.”

 

Laurel looked back over her shoulder to glare at Dinah, but was greeted with that little teasing close-lipped smile. Ugh, why did she have to be so annoying and  pretty?

 

Their attention was pulled back when they heard the grind of the gates on the concrete. In the distance stood a familiar figure, guards flanking either side. With each step he took closer the hotter that impatient feeling her belly got.

 

The pair scrambled from the car and towards the gate. The guards dispersed, their jobs having been completed. Laurel couldn’t pull enough air into her lungs and felt irritatingly weak at the knees as Oliver finally crossed that threshold.

 

He was free .

 

Laurel darted forward latching onto him like a barnacle, her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Oliver moaned against her mouth, his grip around her waist was nearly crushing but she didn’t care. She had gone far too long without the taste of his lips and the warmth of his skin. Her fingers pulled at that horrendous beard and she felt him laugh against her lips.

 

She felt dizzy when they finally pulled back, she could taste his tears on her lips. In her peripheral Laurel could see Dinah doing that awkward loping pace she did when she was waiting her turn. Pulling a step back, Laurel smirked when Oliver beckoned the brunette over with a crook of his finger. Dinah eventually pulled in close and Oliver’s arms went around her with infinite gentility, their kiss wasn’t scorching like the one he had just shared with Laurel. It was slow and smoldering and fuck - did she just give him tongue?

 

“You guys are really hot.” Laurel whined after a moment of observation, feeling her cheeks get all hot when their eyes landed on her. Dinah looked stunning where she leaned against his chest, his arm looped across her shoulders with one of Dinah’s hands dangling from his forearm. Her cheeks were colored with a faint rosy tinge and her lips were wet with spit. Then there was Oliver, a single brow raised as he stared at her with that look in his dark blue eyes.

 

They eventually all crammed into Dinah’s beat up old muscle car that she was too sentimental to get rid of. It got laughable gas mileage in the city, but the brunette insisted that it was a good car, whatever that meant. It had one big bench seat in the front, meaning they could all fit, Laurel was squished between the pair of them - Dinah on one side and Oliver on the other, and she couldn’t be happier. The only redeeming quality of the car, in Laurel’s opinion, was that it came in black.

 

--

 

There was a pleasant velvety darkness in the room courtesy of the blackout curtains covering the windows. Vigilantes had awful sleep schedules. The air was cool and his skin was warm. Oliver awoke the next morning in a tangle of limbs, Laurel on one side and Dinah on the other.

 

He managed to squirm out from between the two of them without too much of a fuss, though as he carefully lifted one hand another would latch onto him. Oliver smiled, pressing a tender kiss to Laurel’s hairline and another to Dinah’s chin. After climbing out of bed, he watched as his girls scooted together with a hum, savoring the big warm spot he’d left on the bed for them.

 

Holding on to the quiet moment he studied them, their contrasting colors, pretty blonde hair like sunlight spilling over one pillow and thick chocolate brown curls on the other. His gaze swept lower onto the slopes of bare skin, over the matching ruddy blotches of beard burn decorating them. On their necks, smoothing down the valley of their breasts, between their thighs…

 

Oliver marveled at the pair of them...his Pretty Birds. Nothing screamed home loud and clear like they did...and they sure could scream.