"How was the meeting?" Mika asked. Arrow chewed his lip- something he did whenever he was defeated or nervous. It wasn't often that he did it, because it wasn't often he experienced either feeling.
"No one showed up," he said casually, "just like I told you. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get my dinner and go up to my room." Mika laughed and put his head into his arms as Arrow rummaged through the fridge for his dinner.
"Don't watch tv until one in the morning," Mika reminded him, "we have a meeting tomorrow at the crack of dawn." Arrow stuck his head out from under the fridge and looked at him menacingly.
"Don't tell me what to do," he warned, "you aren't Paris. And besides, there's more episodes of Say Yes to the Dress on Hulu, and some of them have Martha Stewart in them." He plopped some chicken tikka masala onto a plate and put it into the microwave for two minutes and rubbed his hands over his face. To have failed on this much of a scale was… embarrassing to say the least. He was Arrow. He never failed.
Except once. But it wouldn't happen again.
"I am Paris," Paris called from the living room, "and I am advising you to get to sleep in a timely manner because of the meeting tomorrow." Arrow nodded and grabbed a pan to warm up his naan bread.
"Got it, chief," he said with a grin. Paris laughed as his soap opera displayed some sort of comedy. Arrow never understood the appeal to soap operas, but Paris, Vancha, and Mika were addicted to them. It was completely baffling to him when he saw the three strongest men he knew yell at a screen for drama at a completely fictional wedding.
Apparently her lover had interrupted the wedding, and Vancha actually threw hands with Mika over the ending. It was quite entertaining to watch, but nothing could beat his relationship with Say Yes to the Dress.
"I mean i- he proposed!" Paris shouted. Mika's head snapped up and he flitted to the couch, knocking over a lamp on his way.
"Was it the housewife?" Mika asked urgently. Paris shook his head.
"T'was the maid," he muttered angrily. Mika tsked and watched intently. His hand delved into Paris's popcorn bowl, only to be met with the swatting hand of the man who he looked up to. Mika's gaze panned to Paris with a betrayed expression.
"You are young," he said, "and you've got two working legs of your own. Make your own."
"Arrow?" Mika called from the sofa.
"Nope," Arrow said around a mouthful of naan bread and tikka masala. "You heard Paris- use your legs."
"You're both horrendous," Mika muttered as he rose from the sofa. "Thanks to you both, I don't get to-" Paris swatted his thigh and made a shush noise.
"They're arguing!" Paris shouted.
"As are we!" Mika shouted. Paris swatted him again.
"Go make your popped corn in peace, Sire Ver Leth, and leave me alone!" Paris shouted. He reached for the volume remote and turned it up to ignore him.
Mika walked toward the kitchen muttering under his breath. Arrow didn't stick around to find out what he was muttering, but he could surmise the topic of it. He grabbed his dinner and headed up to his bedroom.
Three episodes deep into Say Yes to the Dress, he saw a woman with brown eyes. Who was she? Arrow wanted to know. Her eyes were striking to say the least. For the first time in nearly three centuries, he was interested in a woman.
No. He wasn't interested. He was merely intrigued by her anonymity. She wore scrubs- a nurse?- and got a big coffee in the night. She worked nights. Arrow smiled as a woman Said Yes to the Dress.
He would find her.
Was that creepy? Yes. He would remain respectful of her personal space, but if he bumped into her again he would initiate a conversation. No more, and no less.
He turned his attention back to his television show, and just like that his attention went from the woman to Martha Stewart.
"Surgeon Vargas," a nurse said, "the thirteen year old patient tested positive for appendicitis. We're prepping an OR right now. Surgery will be an estimated 30 minutes away." Elizabeth wiped her mouth of crumbs from her energy bar.
"Thank you, Luna," she said with a smile, "and I told you to call me Elizabeth."
"Of course, surgeon Elizabeth," Luna said with a grin. Elizabeth shook her head and walked toward the OR.
She was more than halfway through her shift. She had seen twelve patients, was about to do her first surgery of the night, and yet she couldn't shake his gaze from her mind. Who was he? Where did he get the tattoos? She wanted to know.
Who was he? And why did she feel like she knew him? Granted, it was more of a nostalgic remembrance, but it was remembrance nonetheless. She felt like she had known him for centuries, and yet she had met him yesterday. She hadn't even properly met him yesterday.
"Elizabeth!" Luna snapped. Elizabeth brought herself out of the trance and looked at the nurse.
"What?" she asked.
"I've been trying to tell you that you're headed in the wrong direction," she said. Elizabeth reddened.
She had to forget him. There was no way they would meet again.
The sun- or more accurately Paris- woke Arrow with a vengeance.
"Up!" he roared, scaring Arrow out of bed. Arrow fell out of the bed with a shock.
"Stop doing that!" he shouted. Paris grinned.
"Don't deprive an old man of his sole pleasure in life," he said cheerfully. Arrow rubbed his head and rose from the floor.
"What's for breakfast?" he asked. Paris shrugged his shoulders.
"Not a clue," he said. "I know that Mika said we would go to the store to get coffee and donuts for the meeting- that cub and his donuts, I swear- and that's all he said." Arrow ducked through the door and meandered down the hallway before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Since when is Mika in charge?" Arrow asked as they approached the kitchen.
"Since Mika woke up first," he said with a sleepy grin. "I don't know why I did that to myself, though. I regret it." Arrow nodded in agreement.
"I too regret things, but waking up last is not one of them." Mika stifled a yawn behind his hand.
"We're having donuts for breakfast," he said amicably. Arrow slowly nodded.
"Paris told me," he yawned in agreement. Paris yawned. Everyone yawned. It was a good yawn.
Paris cracked his back suddenly, and the noise caused Arrow and Mika to sharply stare at him.
"What?" he asked. "I'm an old man. Let me be." Mika looked him in the eye.
"No." Paris raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"I'm sorry."
"Good."
Arrow cleared his throat. They were going to be late if they didn't hurry.
"Come on," he said, "we need to get to the store to get the food and coffee before the meeting starts if we want to not starve for twelve hours." Paris rolled his eyes, but nonetheless made his way to the truck.
"My dear boy," he said as he opened the door, "I can assure you that they are going to have food. You are a bottomless pit, Arrow." Arrow grinned.
"I know." Mika yawned again, and this time Arrow smacked him.
"What was that for?" Mika yelped. Arrow laughed.
"Everything." He opened the passenger door, but Paris beat him to it.
"I called the knife," Paris said with a grin. Arrow rolled his eyes but nonetheless accepted his fate in the back seat.
"It's shotgun," he muttered as he tried to cram himself into the cab. Paris leaned back in his seat to face Arrow.
"In case you have not forgotten, my dear son, we do not in fact shoot guns."
"I haven't forgotten, Paris." The car started with a lurch, and Mika skillfully backed out of the driveway.
"Good."
"You want a donut for breakfast Cass?" Elizabeth asked. "No. We have food at home, and we need to eat healthy."
"Screw healthy! Donut!" Cassiopeia screamed at the top of her lungs. Elizabeth felt herself reddening under the stares of complete strangers and had to excuse herself and her daughter to a different aisle- all the way across the store.
"We do not holler screw healthy in the grocery store," Elizabeth said to her daughter. "As much as we may want to, we can't."
"Why?" Cass asked.
"Because that's the way that society is. I wish it was different too." Elizabeth hugged her daughter and suddenly the floodgates burst forth.
"I miss daddy!" Cassiopeia cried. Elizabeth cradled her daughter and kissed the top of her forehead.
"Me too, My Star- me too."
She cradled her daughter for a few minutes before letting her down onto the floor with a watery smile. Milk, eggs, bread, and maybe a donut for Cassiopeia. And me too. Even though I'm on a diet. Diets were made to be broken, though, just like families and hearts.
"Look," Elizabeth heard a man say, "if we get the coffee before the meeting we'll be anxious but faster, and if we get it after the meeting we'll be anxious and tired. Make your pick, gentleman, but I'm choosing to be anxious but faster." Another man scoffed.
"You're choosing diabetes is what you're doing."
"Mika, let us not be so crass," she heard an old man say. "Diabetes is a medical condition-"
"-caused by severe ingestion of sugar, caffeine, and overall sluggishness."
"I squat nearly 400 American pounds-"
"-wow one whole American. You should be proud." A whack that could be heard down the aisle echoed to Elizabeth and made Cassiopeia giggle. Elizabeth smiled and ventured down the aisle to make her daughter laugh, even though it had nothing that she needed.
"Why'd you hit me!" A man hissed. Elizabeth could see that it was the Arrow man from the meeting and coffee shop. This piqued her interest greatly, which made her want to stay in the aisle even more. Who was he? It would drive her mad if she didn't find out who he was.
The old man hit the black-haired man, which caused him to bump into a few boxes of macaroni and cheese.
"Way to go Paris," he mumbled, "you've broken their winter provisions. What's next? Attacking their only source of liquid sustenance? Chocolate milk?"
"It would actually be diet Mountain Dew," Elizabeth heard herself say. "Chocolate milk contains a healthy component so it would be off the table." The Arrow man snorted. Was that how he laughed? That was interesting.
"I've never heard of Mountain Dew," the black-haired man said with obvious effort to compose himself. "What is it?" He smoothed his hair back and lightly stared at her.
"It's a caffeinated drink that's pure caffeine and sugar."
"Absolutely not," The man with black hair deadpanned.
"Where can I find it?" The Arrow man asked. The two eyed each other with an interesting expression that Elizabeth could only describe as jest.
"What is your name?" Paris- at least that's what she thought his name was- asked.
"Elizabeth," she said with a smile. Cassiopeia studied the Arrow man intently whilst eating part of a granola bar she had dug out of her mother's purse undetected. The Arrow man frowned at her, which made her giggle and bury her face into her mother's clean scrubs. Elizabeth frowned and held her daughter a bit tighter, which did not go unnoticed to the Arrow man.
"I apologize," he said immediately, "I should have thought about it. I have-had- children, and it was a gut reaction. I don't know how to d-describe it, but- do you know what I mean? I swear I'm not disgusting. Her name was Rebecca, and her twin brother's name was August." Elizabeth smiled, but did not relax her grip on her daughter.
Why did those names sound familiar to her? And why did she want to smell lavender?
"You're fine," she said with a tight smile. "It's just that you can't be too careful these days." The Arrow man nodded in agreement.
"You're a good mother," he said, but then he immediately reddened, "I'm assuming- I don't actually know- I'm just gonna stop while I'm ahead." Elizabeth laughed.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Adrian," he said with a tight smile, "although I prefer Arrow."
"Arrow," she said.
"Arrow," Cassiopeia repeated around a mouthful of granola bar.
"Aren't you the one with the support group at the coffee shop?" she asked. Arrow nodded.
"Yes I am," he said.
"When is the next meeting?" Arrow paused to think for a few seconds before answering.
"Next Tuesday at the same time," he said. His voice was interestingly deep, but he had an accent too. English? French? She couldn't place it.
And then there were his eyes. Grass clipping green. Was that a good thing to think about someone's eyes? She didn't know.
"Great," she said as she pried a box of instant potatoes from her daughter's tight grip. "I will see you then."
"See you then," he said as she walked down the aisle.
Paris and Mika glanced at each other. Did Arrow, the man who gave such eloquent thirty minute speeches on the fly, stutter? In the presence of a woman no less? This was not the Arrow they knew.
"You're fine," she said with a tight smile. "It's just that you can't be too careful these days." Arrow nodded in agreement. What in Charna's name was he doing?
"You're a good mother," he said, but then he immediately reddened, "I'm assuming- I don't actually know- I'm just gonna stop while I'm ahead." Elizabeth laughed. Why did her laugh sound familiar to both Paris and Mika?
"What's your name?" she asked. Mika bit his lip in anticipation of what name he was going to give her. Why was he anticipating it when he knew that he would give her the standard Arrow?
"Adrian," he said with a tight smile, "although I prefer Arrow." Paris's eyes widened. Did he just-
"Arrow," she said. Again, her voice sounded familiar to Mika- especially when she said Arrow's name.
"Arrow," The little girl repeated around a mouthful of granola bar. Mika wasn't one for little kids- he thought they were grimy, disgusting little cesspools full of germs and tears- but even he had to admit that she was adorable.
"Aren't you the one with the support group at the coffee shop?" she asked. Arrow nodded. Mika mentally facepalmed; Paris, on the other hand, was intrigued. They were bantering- not yet flirting- but borderline flirting.
"Yes I am," he said. Mika shook his head and looked for anything to distract himself from the obvious.
"When is the next meeting?" Arrow paused to think for a few seconds before answering. Paris hung onto his every word, and it was painfully obvious. Thank the Gods that Seba wasn't here, otherwise he would treat it like a soap opera as well.
"Next Tuesday at the same time," he said. Mika gaped at a can of Spaghetti-O's. Was he setting up a date?
"Great," she said as she pried a box of instant potatoes from her daughter's tight grip. "I will see you then." Paris shook his head in awe. This was new.
"See you then," he said as she walked down the aisle.
Arrow watched her walk away, and something stirred in his heart. Was it love for his now deceased wife? Or was it mere human attraction reminding him of his grief once more?
He wasn't sure what was worse- the fact that he remembered every detail about her or the fact that he wanted to forget them. He wanted to forget the feeling of her slender body in his arms on the nights that her presence was painfully obvious,not only because it reminded him of his failure, but because when he missed her his whole body ached for her presence.
He wanted-longed- for her to caress his cheek like she used to do on the nights of thunder and lightning that would plague their cottage in Wales as he fell asleep with his head in her lap and thought about how lucky he was. He yearned for her kiss- as gentle as a butterfly's wing- to find itself on his temple when she thought he was asleep, but he would stay awake until she kissed him.
But most of all he wanted to take her into his arms and tell her how loved she was. How impactful she was upon his life. How he was a mess without her.
Paris took note of his internal crisis and got his coffee for him. When he handed it to him he gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder, and Arrow had to fight back the tears.
He missed her so much. And it was all his fault.