Oliver waited an extra second to see if Owen would give him any sign of what he was doing when Simm's turned his back, then sighed and followed when nothing was given. He kept a few feet of distance between himself and Owen just to make sure they had a fairly even spread, and found that he was putting himself in line to intercept if Simms decided to reverse and head for the diner. Not likely, but it was at least one thing in this stupid fucking situation he could feel secure with.
Do you smell toast? something in his brain quoted when Simms asked Owen if he'd had a stroke, but he couldn't remember where he'd heard it from. He nearly asked if Simms had any idea where he lived, but for now this was Owen's show, let him handle the dialogue until Oliver could at least figure out what script they were using now.