Just a short little oneshot of Laurel's possible epiphany regarding Oliver's other identity. Love Arrow so I thought I'd try doing a short little drabble. I don't own Arrow in any way and this is completely un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own. Let me know what you Think! I always appreciate an feedback/constructive criticism!

They're walking outside the newly opened Queen nightclub when she sees him search his pockets for something. His muttered, "Dammit," clues her in pretty quickly to the fact that Oliver Queen has once again misplaced his wallet. She doesn't even try to stop herself from laughing. If it were anyone else she may have, but the fake pout Ollie sends her way is something she's grown used to in the past few months. The bashful grin that blossoms across his face is something that Laurel doesn't think she'll ever really grow accustomed to however. She can hear his faint chuckle as he runs past the bouncer into the bustling crowd.

The blaring music of OQ has become a muffled din but Laurel had never been fond of any volume of dub step so she begins to meander away from the club. She's not worried about Ollie catching up with her because, for the first time she can remember, he hadn't felt the need to get plastered while out on the town.

She aimlessly walks down the street and, as the club music becomes more and more faint, she can't help the surge of pride and admiration that swells up inside her. She'd known Oliver her entire life and, while unorthodox to say the least, this club was the first thing he'd committed himself to entirely. The grin on her face slowly drifts away because, though certainly proud of Oliver, she can't help wondering why a club managed to get his unwavering attention when she never could.

So caught in her musings, Laurel doesn't realize where she is until it's too late. Her last left brought her to a dead end alley. She can sense the man before her eyes adjust well enough to see him. He walks out of the shadows in front of her and, as she turns back in the direction she came, she takes note of his slight nod of head. Clearly some sort of signal for the man she collides with while in pursuit of an escape.

His eyes, almost black in darkness, are bloodshot and dangerous. She sees an instant what he's capable of. Sees the hate and anger that surrounds him. He focuses on his friend and a sickening smile forms across his face. It's almost maniacal. He grabs her arms in a vice-like grip and she can't help the feeling of terror that rises up in her. She's the daughter of a cop, a master of self-defense, but she knows that there's no way she's getting out of this one. And he knows he's got her.

She watches as the other man walks away, leaving his friend to claim whatever prize he's seeking. They've clearly been doing this for awhile. Tag-teaming various victims, each allowing the other their moment of power. He pushes her against the cold brick of the alley wall and she can feel every hot breath on her neck. He's aggressive, but she's never been one to stand down. She only needs him to have a second of weakness for her to make a move. One second of distraction.

Luckily for her it comes sooner than she was anticipating. His eyes flick to her lips and she sees every sadistic thought that goes through his mind. He's not paying enough attention to her because in a fraction of a second she frees her wrist and scratches him with astonishing force. He cries out in pain and she's pleased by it. She kicks him and begins to sprint to the opening of the alleyway. Unfortunately, the 4 inch heels cause her to stumble and trip. She wishes she had the time to roll her eyes at how cliché this situation is.

She can feel the burn of the scrapes that now litter her body and the minute she pulls herself off of the disgusting floor, she's down again. He pins her to the ground, using his weight and brute strength to ensure that she can't escape or retaliate. She feels something hot drip on her face, and when she steels herself enough to open her eyes, she sees the blood dripping off of his face. "You'll pay for that you little rich bitch." It's animalistic and whatever adrenaline she had disappears and is replaced with utter dread. She closes her eyes again and waits for the inevitable.

It never happens. Instead she feels his weight leave her completely.

She doesn't hesitate. Her eyes fly open and she uses her already scraped elbows to propel herself backwards. It takes a few seconds to comprehend but when she does she becomes paralyzed. Her attacker was being attacked. She watches in equal awe and horror as she watches Ollie's fists fly at the other man. There's a sickening crunch as one right hook causes significant damage. "Ollie. Ollie!" She's screaming at him but it's as though she hadn't said anything at all. Nothing can stop him. Each punch is deliberate and perfectly executed.

"Oliver!" She can hear the distress in her voice, hear his name crack against her lips. She sounds weak and she hates it but Oliver's head snaps to meet her eyes. That's when she sees it. She steps back in astonishment, suddenly more afraid than she had been all night. It's a look she'd only seen once before but it had been burned into her memory. She sees it fade away, watches as he realizes what's happened. He pulls himself off of the man, straightens his tie, and walks towards her.

He's a flurry of motion as he simultaneously removes his suit jacket and pulls out his phone. He's talking to the police as he places his jacket over her shoulders and places what she assumes is supposed to be a comforting arm around her. She realizes that his jacket should be making her feel warmer, that his arm is meant to be comforting her, but all she feels is an icy anxiety.

He stays with her when the cops arrive. Doesn't leave her side when she gives her statement.

She's silent on the ride home and is grateful that he doesn't push her into talking. She grabs for the car door handle the second they pull in front of her apartment. She's so close. So close to being gone when he grabs her hand. It isn't forceful, would never be enough to keep her, but the touch alone cause her to pause. She turns her head and looks into his eyes. "I'm never going to let anything happen to you Laurel. Not ever." She believes him. Believes every word.

Because he's the city's masked vigilante. But more importantly he's her Ollie.