A/N: Thanks again everyone. Hope this has been as fun for you as it has been for me.
2 months later
"So the judge says to the defendant, 'I thought I told you I never wanted to see you in here again'. And the guy says 'That's what I tried to tell the cops, your Honour, but they just wouldn't listen!'"
Laurel shakes her head a little but she chuckles just the same, not so much at the joke, but because it's exactly the kind of cheesy punch line she expects from her father, and that thought alone makes her happy. So she laughs, and he laughs, and for that moment, everything seems right in the world.
They're sitting in her father's kitchen, coffee mugs in front of them, a box of donuts in the middle. She's been there for most of the afternoon and it's been really nice, spending this time with him. She reaches over to the donuts and breaks one in half, and when she looks up again, her father is smiling at her, beaming almost.
"What?" she asks him, feeling a little self conscious but smiling back anyway.
"Nothing," he says with a shrug. "It's just, you look good. You look like you're doing good."
The sentiment, spoken with nothing but happiness, makes her want to hug him. But because of their positions on opposite sides of the table, she settles for grabbing his hand instead. "I am good," she tells him and, most importantly, she means it.
It was a rough go for a while, there were so many things she needed to work through. Not just killing that man, but feelings she had pushed down for so long in her single minded quest to become the Canary, things she hadn't dealt with, they all seemed to come bubbling to the surface. But she was working through them, with the help of her team. They all understood so much more than she ever thought they would. She wasn't perfect, she doubted that she ever would be, but she was better, and she was trying, and she felt hopeful. So yeah, she was good.
Quinton's hand, still clutching hers, turns over and Laurel gets a glimpse of his watch. "Oh," she says with surprise. "Is that the time? I've got to run."
"You got plans?" her father asks her, standing up as she does.
"Yeah," she says, slipping on her coat. "I'm meeting some friends for dinner."
"Is that code for vigilante activities?"
She laughs out loud. "No dad, I'm actually meeting some friends for dinner."
His beaming smile returns. "Good," he tells her, and this time she does hug him.
Fifteen minutes later, Laurel is dashing up the steps of Felicity and Oliver's townhouse. She knocks on the door and it opens quickly, revealing a smiling Felicity.
"Laurel!" Felicity greets her warmly. "I'm so glad you're here! Now we can start. You are going to love it. Now, I know that everything might not make sense at first, but you're coming in at a good spot. Getting a new Doctor is kinda like a fresh start, and I've heard really good things about this new guy, people are really excited about him. And if you love it, and trust me, you're going to love it, I have the whole back catalogue you can borrow, but I should warn you know, Doctor Who can be a major time suck, I mean-"
"Felicity!" Laurel says, putting her hands on the other woman's shoulders. A smile graces her face and her next words come out on a laugh. "Take a breath. I haven't even made it in the door yet."
"Right," Felicity said, laughing a little at herself and stepping back so Laurel can come in. "Sorry, I just get so excited!"
Laurel takes off her coat and drops her bag in the foyer before following Felicity into the house. By the sounds of it, the rest of the gang is already here.
"Food's in the kitchen," Felicity tells her. "Grab yourself a plate, but, full disclosure, I haven't made moussaka in forever, so it might be terrible." Then, with a shrug she adds, "If it's terrible, we'll just order pizza."
"It'll be fine Felicity," says Oliver, walking up behind the blond and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Hey Laurel," he says, greeting her with a hug. "Make yourself at home."
Laurel moves into the kitchen where Roy is already filling up his plate.
"Hey Roy."
"Hey," he answers, spatula in hand. "Want a piece of this meatloaf-y thing?"
She can't help the laugh that escapes her. "It's moussaka. And yes, please."
He cuts her a piece and slides it onto a plate.
"Did Thea come out tonight?" she asks him.
"No," he answers. "She said, and I quote, 'Not for Doctor No-Name, not in a thousand years'."
Laurel laughs again. "Oh no," she says, "What have I gotten myself into?"
"It's her loss," comes Felicity's voice, as she and Diggle come into the kitchen.
"Ours is a strange obsession," says Diggle in his usual deadpan voice, but the smile quirking his lips gives him away. He lightly bumps Laurel's shoulder with his. "Welcome to the club," he tells her.
When they are all settled around the television, plates balanced on their laps and drinks sitting at their feet, Felicity presses play on the PVR. As Laurel watches the blue police box tumble through the opening credits, her mouth full of delicious mousakka, a feeling of warmth washes over her. In this cozy living room, surrounded by her friends, her team, she feels, for the first time in years, that she's come home. Her life might not be exactly normal, but she's happy.
And in the end, she knows that that's all Sara ever would have wanted.