"Where's Felicity tonight?" Oliver asked as he grabbed his bow from the steel table.
"She's sick," Digg replied as he typed on Felicity's computer.
Oliver sighed. It would be harder for them to work tonight without her.
"Okay. What's happening tonight?" He turned and looked over Digg's shoulder.
"The masked murderer from two nights ago who escaped you, he was spotted just a minute ago by Starling City police." He paused as he typed a few more commands on the keyboard. "It looks like he's headed to the Northern part of the city. Just outside the Glades."
Oliver nodded. "He won't get far. Keep me updated on any more police reports."
"I will," Diggle said, but the Arrow was already gone.
Oliver ran across the rooftops of buildings around the outskirts of the Glades. This part of Starling was less dangerous than the Glades. As he jumped a short gap between an apartment building and a drugstore, he thought: Why has this masked murder, who has killed three people in the past week, continued to evade me? What is his motive?
Diggle's voice came in his earpiece. "Cross the street to the right of you. He just changed directions towards an apartment section."
And where is he going?
Oliver made his way over to the apartments. He stayed in the shadows of the alleys. "Digg, do you have a better location?"
"A report just came from the street across from you. An officer saw a dark figure in an alley. He said he's going to investigate it."
Oliver knew this masked murderer was dangerous. He had to find him before he hurt anybody else. He sprinted across the street with no cars in sight. The apartment building in front of him had windows with lights on. It looked pretty nice for a place just outside the Glades.
He climbed the side of the building on the fire escape. Once he reached the roof, he paused to look around. The door leading inside the building was ripped apart. No human could have done that. This masked murderer was powered my the Mirakuru.
He proceeded with caution as he went down the stairs leading to the top floor of the apartment complex. There were dirty footprints in the hallway. Oliver followed them. They disappeared soon though. In front of the last door in that hallway. There was a window next to it.
The murderer could have gone through the window or into the apartment. Oliver decided that, since the window looked to be untouched, he would try the apartment.
As quietly as he could, he ripped off the doorhandle and pushed it open. There were no lights on in the hall as he stepped inside. He made his way down when he heard voices. Immediately, he pulled out his bow and loaded an arrow.
When he turned the corner, he saw a living room with the T.V. on. It was the only thing giving light to the room. He heard a creak in the floorboards behind him and he swung himself around to face the culprit.
But it wasn't the masked murderer they had been looking for.
Felicity dropped her bowl of soup she had been carrying and put her hands up. "There's nothing valuable here, I swear." Then she squinted, for she didn't have her glasses on. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oliver, what are you doing here!"
She slammed her hand on the light switch as he lowered his weapon. "Felicity?" His voice reflected his confusion.
"Yes, Felicity," she snapped. "Why are you at my apartment?"
"You're...You're apartment?" he stammered.
"Yes!" she snapped again then sneezed.
Oliver took off his hood and mask. "I was following a lead. Digg said the masked murderer we were searching for was seen here. The door on the roof was ripped open. I thought this was his apartment."
Felicity stepped forward. "So you thought my apartment was the home of the masked murderer?"
"Well I've never been here before, Felicity," Oliver half snapped then calmed his voice. He rubbed the tips of his fingernails against each other. "I guess this was bound to happen since you weren't helping tonight."
"I'm really sorry I couldn't be there. Digg told me I needed to go home, but I tried to stay but he wouldn't let me so I-"
"Felicity," Oliver whispered, stopping her mid-sentence. "It's fine. You're clearly sick, you need to rest."
"Right," she said.
She was wearing a gray dress with black running down the sides. It was one of her work outfits. Oliver frowned. "Why are you wearing that when you're sick?"
Felicity looked down at her outfit. "Oh, well I was actually just about to go to the club to help you guys out. I'm feeling a lot better actually," she tried to convince him. Then she let out another sneeze.
Oliver smiled but shook his head. "You aren't going anywhere." Looking at the floor where the bowl was in pieces and hot soup was splattered about, he asked, "Sorry about the soup."
"It's fine."
"Well, you get back the couch, and I will cook you more. And clean this up."
Felicity nodded and walked past him into the living room where there were blankets piled on it. She stopped and looked back at Oliver, pounding her hands together slowly. "Oliver, you really don't have to."
"I want to," he said with finality then gave her a small smile. The smile that he only gave to Felicity.
She smiled back at him then returned to the couch and her television show. Oliver took off his green suit jacket, leaving the tight, long sleeved, black shirt on underneath. He bent down and cleaned up the mess he had caused then carried it to the kitchen, which was right across from the living room.
"Oliver?" Diggle's voice sounded in his ear.
Oliver had forgotten about the earpiece. "Digg. Everything is fine. I'm at Felicitiy's apartment. I think we are done for tonight."
"Felicity's apartment?" Diggle didn't sound as confused as Oliver thought he would have been. "Okay, just be careful. Goodnight."
Oliver turned off the earpiece and went to work in the kitchen. It was small, so the soup was easy to locate and so was a small tray to put it on. Once he was finished, he brought it out to Felicity.
She looked up at him instead of her show and watched him sit next to her legs on the couch. He set the tray down on the small coffee table in front of them. She now wore her glasses since she had been watching T.V.
"What about the masked murderer?" Felicity asked with worry. "Don't you have to find him?"
"He can wait. You should be taken care of right now," Oliver said softly. He handed her the bowl of soup. "Plus, I don't think we could get anywhere without you."
She smiled. "That's always nice to hear." They both chuckled.
Oliver sighed. "So, this is your apartment?"
Felicity took a spoonful of her soup. "Yes, it is. I was going to move last year farther from the Glades but this is closer to your club and I thought it would be good for me to be close to you so I'm more available whenever you need me." She paused for a moment then crinkled her forehead. "I mean... Not available like that."
Oliver put his hand on Felicity's arm. "Felicity," he locked eyes with her. "Don't ever adjust your life to fit mine, okay?"
She nodded and smiled then took another spoonful of her soup. He sat back and directed his eyes away from Felicity to the T.V.
"What are we watching tonight?"
"Re-runs of Saturday Night Live. From the 80's. The good part of the 80's," she explained.
Oliver smiled at Felicity as she laughed at a skit on the television. He noted the way her mouth curled up when she smiled. And the sound of her laugh. It was a lovely song that filled his ears. It calmed him.
Then his tranquility dissappeared. He shot off of the couch as he heard a noise from a window.
Felicity sat up, just as alarmed as Oliver was. "What is it?"
"I heard something." He swiftly grabbed his bow and quiver and took his place next to Felicity, who was now on her feet.
"Oliver?" she asked urgently.
Another noise came from the same window, the window letting in city night lights into the living room. "Get behind me," he shouted.
Felicity's breath was fast behind Oliver; he felt it on his neck. It sent a shiver down his back. He tried to focus on the problem at hand.
Just then a man burst through the window, sending glass flying through the room. He rolled onto his feet and stood up straight. Oliver had his bow drawn, prepared for a fight.
The man was tall and muscular. His long, black trench coat was all too familiar. He took off his black mask. But it wasn't an unknown murderer. It was Count Vertigo.