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Queens, Consolidated

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“Oh, you - you must be joking. You are so joking. You’re kidding me, right?”

Caitlin clicks around on her heels, more gracefully than expected. “We heard you the first ten times, Felicity. And no, we’re not kidding.”

“The sign freaking says Partners in Crime!”

“Actually,” says Thea, putting down her duffel bag on one of the dusty desks, “there’s a second part. A plaque piece. Make us look a little closer to Mystery Inc. than Monster of the Week.”

She pulls the slip of metal from its plastic packaging and doesn’t bother to find a trash can for the wrapping, stuffing it into her pocket instead and moving over to pull the door further open, which cues Caitlin to move back in that direction, hammer and nails at hand.

“See? Partners in Crime Fighting. Better?”

“Oooh!” comes a squeak from the corridor, and Iris is clacking her heels through the doorway a moment later.

“This is so exciting, guys! Our very own business! It’s all official-looking and...”

“Official,” Felicity finishes, though the CEO in her isn’t totally over the signage yet.

“With your very own and totally unnecessary bodyguards,” adds Diggle from the door.

“Actually, I think we’re all good on that front,” muses Thea teasingly. “I think my, uh...most favorite lawyer slash girlfriend has us covered.”

“That she does,” is Laurel’s priceless dramatic entrance, letting her push inside past the chuckling Diggle and Felicity to give Thea a hug and a kiss on the cheek, her sidearm only becoming visible a moment or two later, when she gently pulls away and angles back around toward Felicity.

“So, when is the Queens’ congratulatory dinner?”