"Actions Speak Louder Than Words"
"I thought you said we were even," Oliver managed to say. Helena's body was just carted away and Oliver wanted to rage against the man who took her life, but he couldn't. He knew that if it wasn't for Detective Lance's actions, he'd be the one heading towards the morgue, just like Helena's other victims—
—which meant that Quentin had saved his life twice now.
"Thought you didn't care," Oliver continued. He should have listened to Quentin when he told him to stay away from Helena, that she was bad news, dangerous, even if she wasn't the Hood. But he hadn't listened then, or to Diggle when the bodyguard/sidekick had told him the mob boss' daughter couldn't be trusted.
Though in his defense, he hadn't told her his secret; she'd worked that out on her own.
He thought he could save her, that he could teach her a better path, show her that she could work for justice instead of revenge. But in the end, he hadn't been able to stop her from killing her father, his men, or various Triad members. Her mission to avenge her fiancé's murder had made her deranged. Finally, she'd turned on him.
God, the crossbow that he'd bought her would have been used to murder him if Quentin hadn't gotten there in time. That was incredibly embarrassing, but Lance seemed to be embarrassed, too, and hadn't answered the question yet.
"This isn't about a debt," the vigilante pointed out. "You know, don't you?" Lance had said that he was warning him about Bertinelli to balance the scales after falsely accusing him of being the Hood. The pretense would have been more believable if it weren't for the fact that they both knew it hadn't been a false accusation.
"Know what?" Quentin asked, at last.
Quentin's fingers brushed against Queen's lips, cutting him off. The detective jerked back a moment later, as if burned. He cleared his throat, not making eye contact with the billionaire.
"Just shut up, Queen," he spat. Lance couldn't admit that he knew Queen was the Hood. If he did, he'd have to arrest him again. Perhaps not right away, but eventually he would have enough evidence to make charges stick to the arrogant twit. Not that he condoned what the Hood did, but it could be worse. The Huntress had been proof of that.
"So you do care," Oliver persisted.
"Bullshit," Quentin growled. "You'd better watch your own neck from now on, because I'm not going to make a habit of saving it!"
Months later, Quentin stared at the newspaper in horror, then balled it up and threw it towards the trashcan. He should have just allowed the billionaire to fend for himself.
Unfortunately, the headline continued to taunt him from other people's newspapers the rest of the day.
QUEEN SAVED BY LANCE – A LOT.
Sending the not-so-masked man to prison suddenly sounded like a really good idea. Did he look like a goddamn knight…?
A text message came in. It read simply: "I care, too."
Author's Note: The fic is AU in, well, more respects than the Quiver, but can you blame me? Quentin wasn't even in this week's episode at all!
Feel free to quibble away.