A/N: Written for Kr1411 and crossposted from Ao3. Enjoy. :)

Oliver Queen was sitting in a holding cell, wondering how in the world he'd be able to get out of it this time. (Without drawing suspicion.) Lance had arrested him "upon suspicion and disorderly conduct at night". When, really, it was about three thirty in the morning, he had just dumped his suit in one of many vaults around the city, and he was walking oddly which-yeah, okay, it was a little suspicious.

It would have been fine if he had a solid alibi for the hours previous. But he didn't. Because he had been, in fact, patrolling the Glades as Arrow. Thankfully he had the foresight to have Diggle to patrol near precinct eight and that police station (where good ol' Detective Lance spent his days ̶l̶u̶r̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ working). Which would mean someone would have seen Diggle-Arrow and Lance would get conflicting accounts.

Lance looked positively cross fifteen minutes later when another officer brought in three (obviously horrendously drunk and probably high) people who looked like they had been to a rave and tried to bring it to the streets-and put them in the holding cell with him.

And so, he made nice with them. They were all most definitely high. Briefly, Oliver considered if asking them for weed in front of Lance would give the older man an ulcer. Turns out, befriending the stoners was key-and so was acting familiar when they walked in. (The other officer assumed they were buddy buddy.) In some of the oddly flowing conversations with his holding cell buddies, he hinted that he had fun smoking with them at 'the party'. Not that Oliver actually had-but that was the point.

So then Lance tried to cuff him with possession of weed. In California, though, it is unlikely anyone is ever surprised by that sort of 'funny business'. Better than being cuffed for vigilantism. Tommy, however, laughed boisterously at him when he picked Oliver up from the holding cell two hours later. Oliver just sent his thanks in the form of hefty pizza gift cards to the stoners that said he was in the club with them, when Lance tried to needle him about his previous night's whereabouts for the nth time that morning.

And while Lance was the only detective who was absolutely convinced that Oliver Queen was the Arrow (which….he was… but. Oliver was damned if he was about to be outed by that douche nozzle), the other officers and detectives were very interested with who was under the hood, for different reasons. Which was… unsettling, to say the least. For the past couple of weeks, Lance had been trying to tail Arrow and there were more beat cops on duty than there needed to be. Oliver was up to his ears in white hats, and he was quite tired of having to sneak around. …more than usual. Oliver would just really like to get their scrutiny off of him as the Arrow for the foreseeable future.

-x-

And so he decided to throw himself into the role of "Oliver Queen, airhead playboy billionaire". Aside from the large party he threw back when he arrived to Starling (officially and publicly), he hadn't been doing much as Queen. He had been so sidetracked with The List and everything after, his image fell into the shadows. But the shadows was where the Arrow thrived. Oliver as "Oliver Queen" needed to be in the light to divert attention as much as possible. And to dispel lingering doubts about Arrow's identity. (And maybe he shouldn't have jumped into Arrow business right as he made his "coming home" debut but… hindsight's a bitch. Come to think of it, he should have made himself seen as the Arrow in different cities before to distance "the vigilante" and "Oliver Queen". Time for some hefty damage control.)

-x-

He started going to Thea's club more often, and if it made her smile by him spending some time with her, then, well. So be it. (He needed an excuse to start to let himself try and be a brother again.)

And if, later, he was seen leaving the club with a vivacious minx, even better. It would be widely assumed he would spend the night with her. (Funny how rumours irritated him before The Island, but now they worked in his favour.) That way, he could be "accounted for" as Queen, and be productive as Arrow.

Oliver decided then that he maybe was having a vague identity crisis.

-x-

Oliver had forgotten how good it felt to spend time with his best friend. At their first reunion, Oliver thought that Tommy hadn't changed. But to his pleasant surprise, Tommy had-in all the right ways. He had gotten a handle on himself and was fairly mature now, among other things. And he and Laurel were good for eachother. Oliver had to watch it, as he could see himself getting comfortable with Merlyn Junior and letting his guard down.

With the mask that Oliver used around Tommy (generally speaking in a falsetto and playing up specific attributes he had long since grown out of), Tommy was now the more 'mature' one of the two. But that didn't mean Tommy and Oliver still didn't get in trouble.

-x-

Oliver smiled wanly at Detective Lance, Tommy snickering next to him. The pair were handcuffed together and were placed near Lance's desk, where said detective was glaring at them.

"Is there a problem, Officer?" Oliver cheekily teased.

Lance leaned forward, intense glare for Oliver only, "Look, Queen. I don't know what game you're playing these past few weeks, but cut the crap. We both know this isn't the real you."

"Aw! I'm touched! You really just," Oliver mock flicked a tear with his free hand, "You get me."

"Stop acting like an idiot. What's your angle, Queen? Trying to make it seem like you have a life again? You and I both know your life revolves around a bow and arrow." Lance grueled out. Oliver set his face in the right amount of confused and perplexed, while Tommy looked downright amused. (Tommy was past the stage where he feared his girlfriend's cop-dad. That and Lance was trigger happy. But with handcuffs.)

"Oh, daddy. Will you please stop tormenting Ollie? He's been through enough." Laurel's voice rang out.

Lance's glare crumbled and he heaved a great sigh, relenting. "For now, sweetheart." He looked back at Oliver, "I have my eye on you, though, Queen. And I'll be watching Arrow, too." The amount of disgust that coloured the two names were the same. It was difficult to keep the amusement he felt to not show on his face. Lance getting called over by another officer was his face's saving grace.

"Hey, babe!" Tommy chirped, "We're still on for the gala for tonight, right?"

"Yes, Thea helped me pick out the perfect set of heels." Laurel smiled, "They match with a purse I already have, and they're comfortable. Double win."

Tommy laughed and nudged Oliver, while Laurel unlocked the handcuffs.

"Looks like you're going stag then, after all. Sorry bro." Tommy said, and then was sidetracked by something else Laurel said.

Right. There was a gala that night. Perfect. He could have Diggle play dress up again, and he, himself, could do...something big. Eye catching at the gala. Something that would get the media to talk for a while.

Maybe Felicity would have some ideas.

-x-

Planning a scandal was a lot harder than Oliver anticipated. Before The Island, he could do whatever he wanted without a thought and it usually worked. Now, though, now Oliver was too calculating and, well, not a dumbass (anymore). Finding a balance was hard.

Finding a "tasteful" scandal was harder. After all, his mother would skin him if he did something too detrimental to his image. The employees as QC already didn't take him seriously. (Oh well. He was never one for a desk job, anyway.)

-x-

Felicity didn't have a clue, either. And him going out and sleeping around like the town bicycle wouldn't exactly make anyone bat an eyelash at this point. (Thanks for trying, though, Felicity. He does have standards now.)

There had to be something.

-x-

By the time the gala rolled around, Oliver still had no clues. Felicity was in Diggle's ear, who was clear across town. Roy had skipped out on the gala to cover for Thea at their club. Thankfully, Lance was on duty and therefore not at the gala to antagonise him. (Oliver couldn't for the life of him remember what the occasion for this particular gala was. They all seemed to blur together, anyhow.)

Tommy and Laurel were in a different group, making their rounds of the different socialites. The two were colour coordinated-dark green and silver-and they looked like the epitome of the term 'power couple'. Oliver was loath to admit they were disgustingly adorable.

He, himself, was smack dab in the middle of the Montgomery Estate Ballroom, dressed in a nice burgundy and grey three piece suit, and twirling a crystal champagne glass in thought.

Oliver thought to ask Thea for an idea when she spun by him, wearing a long pastel pink lace dress, but her not knowing the context… she was bound to think his want for a headliner was him wanting attention. And would likely tease him for it.

-x-

And so, an hour or so into the gala, Oliver found himself in a corner-figuratively and literally. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts looking for someone else to consult that wasn't: a.) already at the gala in question or b.) busy with Arrow and or other questionable acts. (Who knew what Constantine was up to these days-Oliver wasn't about to touch that contact name with a ten foot pole.)

Team Flash seemed like a good bet. For planning, they more flew on the seats of their pants than anything else, but their success rates and ingenious ideas were very high. Oliver had been meaning to check in on Barry, anyway. Without another thought, Oliver typed in Barry's number and held the phone to his ear.

The dial tone rang a few times before Oliver heard the familiar odd chirping sound of Barry's mobile feed being transferred to his Flash comm links-courtesy of Cisco.

"Hey, O. What's up?" Barry's voice came-a little staticy, but Cisco was still working out that particular kink in the tech. Oliver decided to skip pleasantries and get straight to the topic at hand.

"I need a distraction, a scandal...anything to take the heat off right now. They're looking at Arrow way too closely. I need to get me as Queen back into the spotlight." Queen grumbled low into his phone, leaving his corner and weaving his way through party goers to avoid a particularly… irritating board member of his that was trying to get his attention.

"Oh, I can help." Barry chirped back, not even phased by Oliver's… manners.

"What? You have an idea?" Incredulous, Oliver definitely was. Surprised, not so much. Barry was always quick on his feet, so to speak.

"Sure do. You're at the Montgomery Estate, right?" But that right there: Barry sounded absolutely mischievous through the static, and that was concerning.

"For the public ball, yes. Why?" Oliver asked, suspicion colouring his tone. He flashed a smile at his sister when they made eye contact, and then looked up to the ceiling, focusing on his phone call.

"Go out onto the balcony over the lake." Were Barry's last words before the static went deafening.

"Wh-Barry?" Oliver pulled the phone away from his ear as he heard the line go silent. He huffed and slid his phone into his pocket. Here goes nothing, Oliver thought as he made his way to the balcony Barry had indicated. He smiled vapidly at various reporters and party goers alike as he strolled to the balcony edge. The blond looked out on the water and leaned an elbow on the ornate stone railing.

Something in the distance caught his attention. And then there was a certain...buzzing. He felt his hair stand up on end, but before he could tense up, there was a crackle of familiar lightning and the Flash stood in front of him in all his heroic glory.

How he climbed the side of the building and wasn't out of breath, Oliver would never know. Inside, Oliver was quite confused, but he put on a jovial front.

"Hello there, Flash! Looking good tonight." He spoke confidently in the airy voice he used publicly, and ignored various cameras flashing. Barry was certainly… in his personal space bubble, that's for damn sure.

Flash smirked back at him, "You're looking good, too, handsome," he spoke clearly despite his vocal chords vibrating.

Queen's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he barely had any time to react as Flash grabbed him by the lapels and crashed their mouths together. Oliver didn't know what to do with his hands for a panicky three seconds before he settled one on Flash's hip and the second over resting on his collar bone. Flash dropped one hand to Oliver's belt loop to pull the blond closer, and the other up to his jaw to tilt Oliver's head up, changing the angle of the kiss.

Oliver felt the buzzing running throughout his very veins and he shivered with pleasant goosebumps. He would never be able to think of another kiss as 'electric' in the same way others described heated kisses. All too soon, Flash pulled back and Oliver blinked up at him, dazed. Dimly, he was aware of the clicks and lights of camera and the cacophony of chatter; but his focus went back to how warm Barry felt against him as he leaned in to press his lips near Oliver's ear, the side facing the lake and away from curious eyes.

"How's that for a scandal?" Barry practically crooned in his natural voice, before pulling back, adjusting Oliver's tie and smoothing out his lapels, giving a jaunty salute, and then disappearing in another crackle of energy and light.

Oliver made a show of licking his lips.

Yes, that would definitely work as a scandal and would keep the press interested in the inevitable story to follow.

Now how to go about publicly seducing the Flash...