He knew there was trouble, saw it in people's faces, felt it in the pit of his stomach and mind. He saw a guy fly out of a ground floor window by a jet stream of water. Women screamed, men yelled in shock as a second male flew out of the same window, this time by fire, a bag falling from his hand. He hurried over and watched a third figure be tossed out by water and fire. At the window he saw a woman, blonde hair flowing around her face sway then fall to the ground. An elderly woman, he knew as Rose stumble to her aid. Despite her age, she moved quickly and surely. He hurried in, as the crowd gather around the front of the window. "Arrow you're late." She told him, not even looking at him. He immediately gathered up the men as she tended to the woman. He bound them after disarming them and returned what they stole to Rose's cash register and safe.
"How is she?" He asked absentmindedly, looking at the old lady's white head of hair and saw a mat of red on the side.
Alarmed at his sudden interest in someone else, being female or not. "Burning up, you'd better take her; hospitals won't know what to do with her."
"Are you ok Rose?" He asked her, blue eyes shining against the green mask he wore, the hood of his shirt covered most of his blonde hair; a few tendrils escaped and hung in his eyes. His voice was deep, rich with the accent of the area. The crowd that formed tried to press closer, they talked among themselves, listening to the sirens as the closed in. Among their whispers he gathered a name. Rayne.
"I'm fine, nothing a band-aid won't fix. I'll gather her things; she's a fine woman Arrow. Take care of her. A world like ours needs a woman like her." She scooted back to the changing room, a few moments later she came out with Angels stuff, and a bag of merchandise. "Give these to her, as a gift." She told Arrow.
"Right," He placed her cloak around her shoulders and tying the whip around her stomach, where an ratty old towel was placed to stench the flow of blood. Rose placed her boots on and he picked her up like they were just married. Outside it had started to rain, it rarely rained in Star City, he thought. He looked at the face that rested against his chest. She was very pretty, he thought, as he carried her through the crowd. Rain drenched everyone, they didn't care they just wanted to catch a glimpse of the woman who they hear shot water and fire through her hands. Placing her on his motorcycle he climbed behind her, he watched a patrol car pull up as he disappeared down the road. Cheers among the crowd and people pointing their fingers at him. Rumors starting if they had already known each other and if they were lovers
She awoke to see a fire glowing and her body tucked under a quilt. The warmth filled her body and she kicked the quilt off to discover she had nothing except a black bra and thong. She never had a bra; she wondered where it came from and how it fit her so well. There was also a bandage that covered her right side, she fingered it as she quickly brought the quilt up and secured it tightly around her body. She snatched the quilt up quickly and brought it around her body tightly. She walked silently around the living room, treading carefully, quietly. The walls were painted in deep earthy tones of blue and orange. The ceilings, as well as the trim were white. There was a large sofa made of black leather was perpendicular to a large television and the fireplace. A man, she decided lived here. She tightened her hold of the quilt even more. She looked around for a clock, seeing none; she headed towards the kitchen, its light glowing softly against the dark. Finding the clock on the stove, where the light came from, it read two nineteen in the morning. She left the kitchen to explore further. She noted that only a few pictures of a gentleman in a pristine suit with blonde hair and striking blue eyes hung on the walls. She headed down a hallway sticking her head into several doorways until she found the bathroom, where her clothes hung on the curtain rod to the claw-footed bath tub and shower. She heated the room and let her clothes dry by sucking the water into her body and heating them slightly. She grabbed the sink to steady herself as a sudden wave of nausea came over her. Waiting till it passed she noticed a bag on the seat of the toilet. Taking them out she saw that they were the clothes that she tried on at the store, along with a couple other things including underwear and another bra. She took a shirt out and put it on she grabbed a pair of dark blue jeans that had a line of stitching going up either side of the leg and pulled them on as well. She heard a door close and she stood still, hands on the zipper of the pants. She heard a voice muttering something. She walked on the balls of her feet to the kitchen, she saw a tall figure dressed in a pair of emerald green boxer shorts standing at the refrigerator. Looking him over she noticed the muscular back, he was lean, and obviously very dedicated to whatever he did. Gazing farther down her lips curved at the edges and she stared at his backside. Nice, she thought easily before continuing her journey. Muscular thighs were attached to equally muscular lower legs. Over all he was physically attractive. She moved closer
"Don't even think about it." he said, as she raised her arm to hit him. He turned so swiftly she didn't have time to blink. But when he tried to grab her, his hands collided with an invisible shield. "So they weren't lying about the shield? Mind putting it down?" He was tall, taller than she was by nearly four inches. His blonde hair was wet and dripped water as it hung in every direction, bringing attention to dazzling blue eyes. A towel that she didn't notice was sitting on the counter next to the refrigerator. She got a chance to get a look at his front side. He was built all over, as she took in the hard chest and rigid abdomen. He had to workout religiously or do something as strenuous. She brought her gaze back to his and found that his eyes were laughing and a wide smile was plastered on his face to show off a row of perfectly white teeth.
She cleared her throat and looked at him curiously. "Who are you?"
"Conner Hawk. And you?"
"Rayne."
"Your real name."
"Angel." He stared at her long, taking in her body again now that it was fully clothed and awake. Though she still looked a little pale, he couldn't force her to rest. He saw that she had deep teal eyes, eyes that contrasted his own lighter blue ones.
"Ok, I know you have gifts, what are they?" He asked curiously.
"Why should I tell you if I did have gifts?"
"I know you do."
"Then, you should know what they are, thanks for your help Mr. Hawke, but I'll be going now." She hurried to the bathroom and gathered her clothes. She knew that name, knew it from when she ran in with some of the newer heroes. He had to be three years older than she was. At least. She grabbed her corset and with sure fingers began to tighten it. She didn't know that he stood at the door watching.
"You're lucky to be alive. Angel Ange."
She stopped and stared at him over her shoulder. "How –"
"You were in the news, people still talk about you. How you were a miracle child, so is that how you came to possess your powers."
"It's none of your business. Where's the rest of my stuff.'
"Here, but hidden; I've some friends, like you, that would be very interested in –"
"Not interested." She told him, teal eyes glaring at him. "Give me my stuff."
"The whip isn't yours."
"Then keep it, but the staff, and the cloak are. Green Arrow."
He came closer, the lights were on now. "So you know who I am. Good. Well, Angel until your wound is healed you're not leaving."
She pushed past him, and walked straight back to his bedroom, intending to search his room until she found her belongings. She held a force field over the door so that he couldn't get in. As she was searching she searched her body for where the wound was. Closing her eyes she snaked fingers up the side of her corset. She sucked in a breath at fire began to cauterize the wound itself; it always ate at her how closing her own wounds sucked the life out her. She looked at the doorway was watching Conner as she finished up her work and swaying she fell to the floor unconscious and the wall came tumbling down.
She is something else Conner thought. Strong and beautiful. What a mix. Rose may be right; the world needs more heroes like her. How did she figure out who I was though? He sat at his desk, looking over the articles about her. Martial arts master, swimmer, archer, old weapons specialist. He looked back at her, on his bed, blonde hair spilling around her shoulders as she slept. Her wound was healed closed by cauterization. As far as he could see there was no infection, or a sign of it. He bent down beside her watching the air exhale through her mouth and inhale through her nose, she was a runner even in her sleep. Then there was that scar, it was clean, a little puffy, curved from her left eye down to the lobe of the left ear. She must be one hell of a fighter, he thought. "Angel," he told her quietly. She moved her head so that the scar was covered, her face away from his. He called her name three more times, and on the third time with her face turned towards his own, those blue-green eyes opened up quickly.
"You don't wake up slowly do you?" He asked her, his hands on his knees, as he leant forward.
She sat up slowly, grabbing her head. "What happened?"
