Dedicated to @NewYorkDoll, @CamrynKissel, and NoraXSWest-AllenFam for their kind support of my stories :)

"Oh my God, why did I let Willy talk me into this?!" Thought Mia, angrily as she looked at her shining reflection via an old pocket mirror given to her by her mom years ago (or years in the future or whatever).

Never had she hated something as much as the thick red Christmas sweater that currently covered her upper body, its large glittery snowballs sparkling underneath the falling afternoon sunlight.

But worst of all was the velvety white border that circled around the sweater's collar with sparkling little snowflakes.

I could expect this kind of behavior from mom, but you dad? I guess it just goes to show that I really did have two excruciatingly embarrassing parents.

"You seriously hate us, don't you?" Remarked Mia, sarcastically as the three Smoak-Queens stepped out of Oliver's black Honda, their black-booted feet tapping against the cold concrete with a sort of fake enthusiasm.

The temperature wasn't exactly freezing in Star City, but the situation was much different in Russia so, they all agreed it would be easier to just change before the flight. At least, so she was told.

You ask one question about a new country's weather and suddenly everyone starts mocking you for it. I mean, who does something like that?!

"No, I just thought we could try out the classic Queen tradition of wearing ugly sweaters," replied Oliver, the tiny silver jingle bells on his emerald green sweater jingling with each step he took forward.

A gigantic Christmas tree was plastered over his sweater, practically screaming all the reasons why Mia was embarrassed to be seen in public with her father.

"Does that tradition include constant itching because that's honestly the only feeling I have right now," said William as he pulled at his sweater's neckline, frustratedly.

"Yeah, I thought you wanted to protect us from everything dangerous, you know, like torture?" Retorted Mia, a knowing smirk covering her agitated face as she slammed her car door in anger.

The wind blew coolly against her lean body, sending occasional waves of gentle shivers down her spine.

I don't care how cold it'll be in Russia because I'd rather freeze to death than wear this stupid thing.

"Laugh all you want because we're already here which means you're stuck with them now," reminded Oliver, playfully as he gestured towards the elegant plane that lay parked across the airstrip's smooth platform.

Mia rolled her eyes, her hands instinctively adjusting the itchy sleeves of her sweater.

"Just be lucky you didn't get the one that lights up," whispered William, jokingly as he walked alongside his sister towards the transportation vessel that awaited them.

He had been unlucky enough to get the Hanukkah one that had glowing golden dreidels displayed across its blue backdrop.

Yeah, that one has to be one of mom's old sweaters.

"You're not going to get any sympathy from me when you encouraged this madness," declared Mia, laughing slightly at her brother's misery.

"In my defense, I thought mom was the one who went Christmas crazy," reasoned William, exasperatedly.

"Well, now you've learned the important lesson that both of our parents are holiday wackos," commented Mia, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder, teasingly before the siblings headed towards where their father and the two Diggles were talking.

Mia had never seen an actual plane in person before, especially such an expensive one. Even when parked, its meticulously designed wings jutted out towards her, their every curve visible with perfect accuracy. The day's faded light was reflected in the windshield's glass cockpit, illuminating the driver's leather place of power. And for a brief moment, she could actually see a tiny bit of the reason why William admired technology so much.

It's surprisingly beautiful... in a really dorky way, that is.

"Please tell me that you're going to make Conner wear one of these things, too?" Pleaded Mia, gesturing towards the ugly sweater that covered her upper body as she walked up to her Uncle John.

His body was built in perfect structure, his bulging arm muscles showing clearly through his heavy gray jacket. She didn't really get a chance to know him in the future, though Conner always spoke passionately about what a good man he'd always been.

As long as I don't have to see JJ again then, I'll be fine dealing with whichever of dad's friends I have to while we're here, even that Curtis guy.

"Sorry, but that's only a Queen family thing," answered John, barely having the strength to contain his silent laughter at their sweaters.

"Really, because I remember you dressing up with Felicity and I just last year," countered Oliver as he crossed his arms, skeptically.

Conner seemed to be having a similar dilemma to his father, though Mia's death glare quickly put a stop to his jokes.

"We both know she can talk us into anything, Oliver," replied John, plainly.

Everyone mostly nodded in agreement, small smiles cresting onto some of their faces.

"All jokes aside, was Argus able to secure Slade's sons without any issues?" Asked Oliver, his arms folded over one another with a posture Mia didn't care to copy.

I respect his formality during missions, but the only leader who's even slightly as strict as he's been over this past week is Dinah and she had an entire system of Canaries to order around.

"Yeah, they're being transferred in a separate plane to Russia as we speak," explained John, sternly.

Oliver thankfully nodded his head at his fellow teammate's job well done. An action he often performed after asking his brother to do most of anything.

"By any chance, should we be the ones transferring them so you know, they don't escape and try to go full "Deathstroke" on a foreign city?" Asked William, skeptically biting down on his lower lip at the prospect.

Ugh, why does he always have to worry so much...

"I thought the same thing at first, but dad ran me through the Argus security measures and I think they'll be okay," reassured Conner, smiling admiringly at his father.

Not once in over two years had Mia heard her ex-boyfriend say anything bad about his adopted father. Unless you count the lies he technically told her during the year where she hated vigilantes.

Pretty sure that anything he said during that time didn't count as the truth, regardless of whether or not I believe him now.

"Okay, no problem," smiled William understandingly as he adjusted his black backpack's strap, absentmindedly.

"You wanna double-check the security systems anyway, don't you?" Commented Mia, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

In the short time of a year that Mia had known her brother, she'd mostly picked up on all his nervous giveaways. Was it because she cared that much about him? Yes, although anyone who tried accusing her of such a demeaning assumption would be guaranteed to end up with a black eye.

"Would that be so bad?" Asked William, anxiously looking at his father and John with desperate anticipation.

"Go ahead," urged Oliver, slightly laughing at his son's impatience to check Argus' work, though he most certainly did not disagree with the choice.

"Thank you," breathed William, happily before immediately whipping out his tablet and heading up the plane's extended ramp, his eyes now glued to the screen.

"Okay, we're gonna head back to the Bunker," stated John, a small smile covering his strong-jawed face.

"But just call us if you need anything," added Conner, his eyes meeting Mia's for a brief moment, a tiny spark flickering between their bodies.

And in that very second, the smallest part of the young woman remembered why she'd once loved him.

Yeah, I don't have time to deal with that right now.

So, she plainly nodded, barriers slamming against the forefront of her mind as she blocked out any temptation towards the handsome agent.

"Thanks for the help, John," said Oliver, a thankful expression hanging on his worn face.

"Anytime you need me, man," responded John, a knowing feeling hidden behind his distant look before he walked back towards the car with his adopted son.

"What are we gonna do with them," sighed Mia, disapprovingly as she stood next to her father, her arms gently crossed over one another.

"The same thing we've always done," answered Oliver, appreciatively.

The two Archers' shoulders bumped against one another for a quick second before Mia swiftly took a few steps back.

Remember not to rush into anything yet because there's no telling how long this will actually last.

The fresh air suddenly felt suffocating as awkward tension quickly brewed beneath their shifting feet.

"We should probably get back to the others before Willy finds something else to freak out about," stated Mia, her wavy blonde locks jumping up slightly as she gestured towards the plane.

"Agreed," nodded Oliver, a hint of disappointment carrying his deep voice.

Mia spun around on her heels, her fists clenched quietly at her sides. Never had she been more relieved to find out that her snobby rich family had paid for luxury noise-canceling headphones.

It's not my fault that he isn't trying hard enough to actually be my father. And I'm trying to let him into my life... I just don't know if he really understands how hard that is for me.