Chapter One
The lair was uncharacteristically hot while Felicity Smoak clicked away at her keyboards; compiling the last of her leads for Detective Lance for his suspicions of a leak in the department.
The only noise in the lair aside the consistent clicking of her keys was Oliver Queen, Starling City Vigilante, exercising as per his usual routine. He was just beginning his advancement up the Salmon Ladder, his upper arms and shoulder muscles tense with exertion.
Felicity stopped staring at her main computer screen and sat in a calm silence. Oliver was paused in his movements to catch his breath before shifting to throw his body upward to the next rung of the ladder.
"Are vigilante sidekicks allowed to take sabbaticals?"
The bar missed the right rung of the ladder completely. The weight of Oliver's body caused the bar to slide from the left rung and both went toppling to the ground, close to fifteen feet down.
The bar landed with a clank just outside the matting while Oliver landed none-to-delicately on his back. He groaned hard.
Felicity gasped and pushed up from her chair to peer over her computer screen. Oliver wasn't moving or making any noise. If his eyes hadn't been open, she may have thought he'd died.
"Are you—"
"What do you mean a sabbatical?"
She sighed in relief. He hadn't moved but speaking must mean he was okay, right?
"Sabbatical? A noun? Meaning to –"
"I know what it means, Felicity. That wasn't my question."
He groaned as he rolled over to lift himself from the mat. He was shirtless, only in his forest green cargo pants and beige belt.
Like he's hardly ever in anything else, Felicity mused to herself.
"Felicity."
He was standing next to her desk.
"What?"
"Please explain to me why I just fell to my possible demise."
"Maybe old age is catching up to you?"
"Felicity!"
Felicity rolled her eyes and shifted her body around the side of her desk opposite to the grouchy vigilante. She'd taken to putting distance between them when they were about to argue. Not out of fear or anything. It was just easier to stare at him without having to crank her neck backwards.
"I'm going to take a couple of months to myself between here and Central City."
Oliver's eyes were dangerously narrowed. "To see Barry?"
"Didn't we literally just have a war over that two weeks ago? Or did your head go firmly back up your ass? "
"So what if it did?"
She couldn't help but roll her eyes again. It seemed as if no matter how many times Oliver and she had an argument, for whatever reason, he'd apologize and then brush it off thirty minutes later. But that wasn't why she wanted the time off.
"No, it's not to see Barry. The doctors are all very adamant that he's virtually brain dead, but thanks for bringing that up."
He sighed and sat in her chair. She hated when he sat in her chair. Especially shirtless and sweaty; no matter how sexy he looked all slumped over in thought.
He was looking at her. "Then why? I…"
She rose her hand up to stop him. It wasn't a dismissive gesture, just a way to stop him. She knew he hated spilling the metaphorical beans that were his emotions. "I know you need me. Rely on me. I simply just have a few things to take of. Mostly family."
She was lying.
"How long?"
"Two months or so. Nothing very long."
He snorted at her. Not very long his vigilante ass. "What about Queen Consolidated? Don't I have to approve your vacation time?"
She laughed at him as she tossed herself down onto the small couch near the training mats. She'd demanded they added it after Oliver had stolen her office chair for some stupid experiment and left her without a place to sit.
"You approved that two days ago. You should really start looking at the papers I hand you to sign before you actually sign them."
The look he gave her was priceless. An absolutely adorable mix of petulant child and defeated adult.
"I organized the computer so Diggle can take care of the tech aspect of your operation and I will always be a phone call away if something really bad happens."
Oliver nodded in defeat and stared at her with his dark brooding eyes. Felicity glanced at her watch and quickly stood up to make towards the exit.
She stopped in front of him and smiled warmly. She placed a hand on his clavicle, her thumb on his pulse and fingers brushing his neck. She'd done it before she could even stop herself. "I'm coming back, Oliver. I promise."
His hand rose up to take hers and he brushed a soft kiss to her knuckles before releasing it. She dropped her hand and went for the door.
"As long as you do one thing for me, Felicity."
The door was partially open when she stopped and waited for him to continue.
"Never wear that hideous yellow nail polish again."
Oliver couldn't help but smile as she laughed and finished her way out of the lair. She'd be back. She promised.
Arrow was in yet another battle with a simple common street thug a few nights after Felicity took her vacation. He'd been tense and broody and was taking it out on the man in front of him. He wasn't known for his complacent nature but it really seemed as if he was just toying with the poor man at this point.
"Oliver, I think you're done." Was Dig's reasonable reply through his ear piece.
He grunted and tossed the guy to the side, letting him land in a pile of wooden pallets.
"She's only taking a little time off. It's not as if she fled to the moon. You should try it sometime."
"Flee to the moon?"
"Ha. Are you done for tonight or what? All this typing is cramping up my fingers."
Arrow glanced around the dark alley for any signs of danger. Coming up short he clicked on his communication link to Diggle, "You can go home, Dig. I'll wrap it up."
Both sides of their link went dead; the two's signature response for agreement. Diggle wasn't fond of computers, so the less he had to fiddle with them the better.
Arrow sighed and turned to his motorcycle. A few long days out of an even longer two months.
He was so caught up in his inner turmoil he didn't take any notice of a second thug slinking up to him with a metal pipe in his hands.
The pipe swung but missed his target as the thug was attacked from a third person hiding in the wings. Arrow was just missing shit left and right tonight.
He swung his body around to defend himself only to catch site of the pipe wielding idiot being hit in the face by someone much smaller than any of them in the alley.
She was wielding two intricately carved wooden sticks, both about twenty four inches long. They were well used, and in her hand, looked as if they were an extension of her body.
Her body. It moved fluidly and silently, making short work of the man in front of her. She had him on his knees, back to her, in a chokehold.
Arrow suddenly snapped to attention when he realized what she was about to do, "Don't!"
She kissed the thug on the cheek, leaving a black lipstick imprint, before snapping his neck and letting his body fall.
She smiled, "Too late!"
Arrow took only a half-step towards her before she slipped her weapons into their holsters affixed to her thighs, threw him a peace sign and scampered up a fire escape. He followed.
The two traversed rooftops and jumped over air conditioning systems for twenty minutes before the mystery woman stopped at a ledge with nowhere to go but down. She 'hmmed' and turned to face him.
"Seems as if I've run out of places to jump, wouldn't you agree?"
"Who are you?"
She seemed familiar. He took her in. Short and lithe, the lower portion of her body was covered in a black, somewhat baggy military cargo pants with a simple leather holster around each thigh for her fighting sticks. Her boots went mid –calve and unbuckled.
The woman's upper half was covered in a plain, but quite fitted, black pull over hoodie that looked as if it was made of particularly thin material. It had a hood attached to it that was pulled over her head. Blonde hair spilled out from the sides. A mask similar to his and black lipstick were on her face.
"Does it matter?"
A guttural noise came from his chest as he stepped closer.
She clicked her tongue, "I've been called many things, but Black Widow seems to have stuck."
Now he remembered her. She'd made cameos at random to help from a distance, or save a distraught person here or there. He wasn't sure she was an enemy but she was an indiscriminate killer.
"I take it you remember me now."
"You didn't have the fighting sticks last time."
"Escribe sticks, and I did. Just had no use for them. You can stop stepping in closer; it's not as if I can't tell you're doing it."
Arrow stopped with one foot partially risen. He had only managed to close the gap between them a couple of feet.
"You should treat your people nicer. You never know when they might not be there anymore."
His eyes snapped to hers, "What do you want here?"
Black Widow's hand snaked into the front pocket of her hoodie, "To observe. Help on occasion. You've seen me in the past, so I must not rank very high on your list of concerns."
"How do you know anything about the people that help me?"
"I've been around. Eyes and ears everywhere, Arrow. I also know you're down a person. I wonder how much that's hurt your operation. One might want to pay her a visit to make sure she's still got all her pieces."
He couldn't stop himself from pulling an arrow from his quiver and stringing it into his composite bow, pointing it at the woman in front of him.
She held up the hand that wasn't in her hoodie, fingers splayed out wide.
"You're your own bigger enemy than I am. Keep an eye on your friends, Arrow. They might not be there when you need them the most."
Her busy hand pulled free of her pocket and threw a small metal canister at the ground. The smoke billowed out of it, obscuring his view of her.
Arrow dropped his arrow from his sights with a grunt of frustration. The smoke had cleared and she was gone. Gone after that cryptic and unsettling message.
"They might not be there when you need them the most," rang in his head like church bells on Sunday morning.
There was only one thing flashing through his mind when he suddenly spun on his heels and tried to empty the distance from his motorcycle as fast as humanly possible.
Felicity.