Oliver remained quiet as Mal unleashed his stern rebuke against Connor; and as the teenager awkwardly extracted himself from the conversation to cool off in the private vicinity of the jukebox, Oliver caught himself wondering if he'd wanted this; expected this. Or perhaps he had been oblivious, and shouldn't have been. He new Mal, knew how he'd react to someone whose attitude affected such an extensive radius. Was Oliver simply immune to such things, vaccinated against it by his prolonged exposure to Roy and Mia; or had he simply been a coward, steering Connor into Mal's path and into an inevitable confrontation, letting Mal play antagonist so that Oliver could remain the hero?

The silence lasted long enough for Oliver to feel Mal's discomfort with it. Within moments of Connor's exit from their booth, Mal's irritation had subsided - not that it had even been raised, not really. Oliver had seen Malcolm angry - been on the receiving end, in fact. This had barely registered as stern; but it was a breed of resolute opposition that Oliver had suspected Connor had little experience with. Perhaps Mal had fallen victim to an elaborate experiment on Oliver's part to see those suspicions proven.

"Do you do house calls?"

Oliver kept his face neutral, but a few flickers of emotion and sentiment crept into his words. Humour. Sympathy. Apology. Small glimmers rather than anything fully fledged, enough for Mal to know they were there, without the embarrassing extent of exposing them for all the world to see.

"There's no way that Mia would ever back down that quickly, but I'm pretty sure it would make for a watch with popcorn sort of experience."