Hell hath no fury
The sun peeked through Oliver Queen's studio apartment; his muscles ached from last night's escapades. His blonde hair disheveled, his facial hair matted against his chin. He rolled out of bed and pulled a t-shirt from a nearby chair and slipped it on. He crossed to the kitchen and fixed himself a cup of coffee; the slow roast of the beans engulfed his senses. He closed his eyes and allowed the aroma of the beverage to embrace his nostrils, and send a warm, relaxing feeling through his body. His serenity was interrupted by a knock at the door; he crossed the room and peeked through the tiny hole in the center. He smirked as he surveyed the lovely creature before him. Her blonde hair pushed behind one ear, glasses perfectly in place, and legs that went on for miles. He puffed out his chest and opened the door. The slender, delicate woman glided into the apartment; clearly the coffee had not reached her nose, as it seemed to be upturned in eternal discomfort.
"Good Morning, can I help you?"
" Haley Kyle, I'm with the Shining Star, I'm doing a story on singles in the big city. You were selected for the piece from your interesting online profile, and I can certainly see why."
Oliver blushed slightly.
"Would you like some coffee?"
The woman smiled, and nodded. Oliver turned and walked back into the kitchen, he opened a cabinet and began fumbling with the cups. He pulled one down, and smiled over his shoulder at the attractive woman now digging in her messenger bag.
"Mr. Queen, would you care to answer a few questions?"
"Of course not, shoot."
"Great."
Oliver picked up the coffee pot to pour a cup for the woman, but suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He slid his hand up the length of his back, and felt a thin, metal needle protruding from between his shoulder blades. He turned to rush the woman, but the poison coursing through his veins was far too much for him. He couldn't make it past the kitchen, before crumpling in a pile on the floor. The woman held the smoking gun at her side, and pulled a small, black, touchscreen cellphone from her purse. She dialed a number and uttered a single sentence.
"One down, six to go."
She sat down on one of his green couches and waited. After a short while, two burly figures entered and extracted their target. They pulled him onto a gurney and quickly exited the apartment. As the two thugs left, the woman walked into the kitchen and poured herself the coffee she had been promised. She sipped the warm liquid with a sense of calm, as she looked around the living space.
"Green Arrow lived in this dump?" she asked herself silently, taking another sip of her drink. She leaned against the counter, and took a moment to relax. She closed her eyes and slipped away for a moment.
The moment was abruptly ended by the ringing of her cellphone. She sighed and put down the coffee; she picked up the cellphone. From the other end, she was greeted with a blunt message.
"Wally West, Keystone City."
With that the voice on the other end, hung up. The woman drained the last of her coffee and sauntered out of the door.