Tommy Merlyn
"THERE IS A LOOK THAT CAN MELT A WOMAN'S HEART FROM ACROSS A CROWDED ROOM THAT TELLS OTHER MEN, 'SHE'S UNDER MY PROTECTION...'" GRAHAM R WHITE
The pen makes a repetitive 'clink' on the metal of the countertop as I look through the numbers of the alcohol stock, a job that was supposed to be done for yesterday. Without my consent, my mind wanders to the interruptions and insanity of yesterday. I was falsely accused of selling drugs, the police raided the entire area, and I had to break my back moving computers, tables and arrows from the basement to save a certain bastard's ass. Bottom line, I saved the bastard's ass a countless number of times yesterday. At least the asshole had some dignity and humanity left to defend me.
"He's selling Vertigo out of this building." Lance confidently tells Oliver.
"Detective, I don't care what you may think of Tommy, but I know for sure, that he would never sell something that harmful to anyone. Never." Oliver says just as confidently back.
Although, he may be an unrecognizable killer now, his defending me allows me to see a flash of the old Oliver and realize that I might have been too hard on him after all. Just a little though.
I close the door behind me, walk into the teeming, noisy club, and flinch from the absence of silence for the first time in my entire life. I take my usual place behind the bar, and keep an eye on my surroundings, alternating from the dance floor, and the narrow hallway that leads to the back door to Oliver's secret hideout. Usually around this time, he will make an appearance as the responsible owner for a few minutes before he retreats to the solitary confine of his man cave.
Instead, I see him walk into the club from the opposite direction; the front door. He scans the room thoroughly; something I should have noticed was a habit ever since coming back from that island, and he makes his way towards the bar where he spots me. He rests his elbows on the pristine counter and looks into the distance as I try to racket my brains for possible conversation.
"What's with the sudden change?" I ask him, fully aware that he won't understand what I'm trying to say the first time.
"Hmm?" He questions, and I mentally summersault for finding a tactic to extend the conversation (as lame as it is).
"You came through the front door for a change." I explain.
"We're taking a break today. John is at home with his girlfriend, Felicity is at home...doing something and so I decided to pop by and see how things were going."
I nod silently, understanding that this conversation is over. We stay like that for a minute before Oliver clears his throat and wanders away, telling me he's going to check on things in the VIP lounge. Once he is out of eyesight, I groan and place my head on the cool counter. Oliver and I have had fights in the past but the one element we could always rely on was conversation. We could sit down and talk for hours about anything and everything. Now, even our one-minute long conversations are awkward and tense. It isn't my fault; I just can't see things from his perspective.
I look up, back at the crowd and spot a girl. A really, really hot girl. She's wearing this tight, green dress with a slit that ends mid-thigh and enunciates her gorgeous ass along with these strappy heels that look as if the devil made them. Her straight blond hair is clipped back leaving me (us all) with a clear view of her bright (and when I say bright, I mean bright) blue eyes. It can't help but bother me, because this woman looks very familiar. But the way she awkwardly manures through the dance floor to get out is not proverbial. Perhaps she was one of 'those' girls.
I watch as a highly intoxicated man walks up to Ms. Blue Eyes with the Nice Ass and whispers something in her ear. She smiles gently and from what it looks like from here, turns him down on his possible offer to dance. But, drunk-guy is very persistent as he tugs on her arm, which she snatches back real quick and speeds up, dodging her way through the swarm of bodies. He roughly places a hand on her shoulder and I watch in fascination (I know, I'm a creep) as her face quickly morphs into anger and she turns around, probably to give the asshole a piece of her mind. But before she can, two bouncers violently grab 'asshole' by the arms and drag him to the exit, while the confused Ms. Blue Eyes with the Great Ass watches.
"Is everything alright?" I almost jump at the sound of Oliver's voice from beside me.
"Jesus! When did you come back?" I ask him, noticing the slight twitch on his mouth, which is the only form of a genuine smile anyone receives from him now.
"Just now." He tells me, and we watch in silence that isn't as awkward as before.
I continue my scrutiny on Ms. Blue Eyes with the Great Ass who looks as if she realized something, that didn't make her very happy. She scans around the room, presumably looking for someone and finally, her gaze lands on the counter I'm at and her eyes narrow angrily.
Shit! What did I do? Did I impregnate her? (Laurel's going to have a field day with that one.) Was she one of those girls that get angry when I didn't call? Did she notice my not so subtle stalking of her just now? My face probably is on full-panic mode as she nears us, her (really pointy) heels making a clinking sound through the music.
She walks up to the counter, stands directly across from Oliver and bangs her fist on the countertop. I sigh in relief; she's one of Ollie's flings.
"I had that handled." She tells him sternly.
Wait, what? I was expecting something along the lines of 'I'm Pregnant.'
"I don't know what you're talking about." Oliver says innocently (only I, who has been with him since forever, know that nothing about that face is innocent.)
"Don't give me that fake look Oliver. I had that guy handled. You didn't have to kick him out for me." She tells him.
So I wasn't the only one that noticed 'asshole' bothering Ms. Blue Eyes with the Great Ass.
"Felicity, this is my club. It's my responsibility to take care of the club and prevent people like him from bothering my customers." Oliver tells her.
Of course, she's Felicity Smoak. Oliver's geek that helps him with his vigilante work. That's why she looks so familiar. Although I've never personally talked to her, I've seen her around in the club a few times before she disappeared back down into the liar.
"Ya. That's only if it is clear that someone is bothering your customer. What if he was just asking to dance and I would have accepted the offer if he did." She retorts back.
"Felicity." Oliver slowly says her name, enunciating every syllable, saying with such intensity I've never heard from Oliver before.
"The point is Oliver; you've been watching me like a hawk ever since Helena. Frankly, it's getting really annoying. Even Diggle pities me." She complains and seats herself on the barstool.
"I'm just trying to protect you Felicity." He tries reasoning.
"I'm not going to suddenly combust Oliver. You need to stop treating me like a child. Nothing is going to happen to me." She assures him.
"Your right, if something ever happens to you, it'll be over my dead body." He says with such ferocity, I'm holding my breath until he completes his sentence.
Ms. Smoak looks at a loss for words, and I don't blame her. This is some messed up caveman shit Oliver's got going for him. Also, it's the first nice thing Oliver's ever said to a girl and actually genuinely meant it. However, I know that they're not dating. So they're just...really, really, really good friends?
It's then that Oliver finally notices his charming, sexy best friend and realizes that he's never introduced said charming, sexy best friend (me) to his other hot, sexy friend (Felicity ).
"Tommy, this is Felicity Smoak. Felicity, this is Tommy Merlyn."
"Ya I know. It's nice to finally meet you. Not that I haven't meet you before, we actually have seen each other and were aware of each other's existence, but it slightly weird that we're meeting now because I have been under you for a very long time. And I am shutting up in 3, 2, and 1."
Okay. How the heck am I supposed to respond to that?
"I ramble. A lot." She says as an explanation.
"Ya. I can tell." I tell her and she smiles good-naturedly and tucks her hair behind her ear, allowing me a good look at the sliver arrow that poses as an industrial piercing.
How Ironic.
Minutes Later...
"Sir, there are just too many people at my area. Can't I send a few to the other bartender?" An employee (Max) asks me with desperation in his voice. I look at his bar, cringe at the swarming (somewhat angry) men surrounding it, and shrug apologetically.
"Sorry man, but unless you want to deal with the boss' wrath and risk getting fired, I suggest you keep you trap shut and continue. I'll send in a few waiters or waitresses to your bar for help okay?"
Seems that Oliver Queen is going through a very emotional crisis over Felicity Smoak and said crisis is prompting him to act like a possessive caveman.
After I was introduced with the lovely (hot) Felicity Smoak, we (Oliver and I) noticed the presence of quite a few (horny) men appearing at our counter despite the very empty counters on the other side. We (Oliver and I) soon discovered that men were not coming for a drink, but rather to flirt with Oliver's cute tech-geek.
This didn't bode well for Ollie (at all). So I, being the ever present friend and making sure to keep him out of trouble (a newly attained position), gave myself the liberty of distracting the men (whose lives were in dire danger) who were hitting on an oblivious Felicity.
Apparently, it wasn't enough.
Because Oliver looked very...arrowy to say the least. In fact, I was afraid that the 'Hood' would make an appearance during the night and shoot all the men who looked at Felicity Smoak like they wanted a piece of her which made me refrain from even looking at her much to her confusion (we were having a great conversation on Ollie's annoying tendencies.)
So, I moved all the men to the other bar on the opposite side of the bar, away from Felicity Smoak and therefore away from Oliver Queen.
This brings me back to now. After sending the poor bartender off, I make my way to the bar where the Mr. and Mrs. sit, the latter trying to teach the former a few things about the technology he missed in the five years he was gone.
They're both engrossed in their conversation, with her waving her hand wildly as she speaks and his eyes never leaving her face as he listens, a small smile on his face. A genuine smile.
Quickly realizing how stalkerish I must look, I avert my eyes from the happy...pair and rather look at the long line up of girls in wait for a drink. They're all Oliver's (pre-island Oliver) type; long legged, brunette, and as fake as a plastic cup. I guess they realize that they're Oliver's type (or hope to be) because unlike the men on the other side of the bar, these ladies don't make a single complain at the tardiness of their drinks, instead they are content to watch the billionaire as he speaks with his lady friend.
That's when it finally hits me. I realize that during the course of the entire evening, Oliver hasn't noticed any of his leggy brunettes the way he usually did. Even when the odd brave one would muster up the courage to seductively walk across Oliver (too close to him) he wouldn't even spare a glance. If this were five years ago, he'd be soaking up the attention, swinging from one chick to the other like monkey bars (EW, bad metaphor). But now, I don't even think he knows they're here.
He's too busy talking (staring, laughing, and smiling) with Felicity. I feel a small smile (or is that a frown? Why do I feel so drunk, sober?) grow on my face as I make my way back into the alcohol stock for some much-needed silence. This is way too much thinking for my mind. But I guess all it took was the recognition of Oliver as the vigilante, and the way Oliver looks at Felicity to figure out that Oliver sees everyone (with the very rare exception) as threats, probably due to whatever crap he dealt with back in that island.
I guess I should give him a chance. Maybe I was a bit too hard on him. We'll have a long (overdue) talk tomorrow.
I look up to spot a Felicity-less Oliver standing, his arms propped on the counter, his eyes focused on the door that leads to his man cave. The door in which Felicity skips (literally skips) out from with a jacket and tablet in her hands. Then, both Oliver and Felicity make their way out of the club with the former's hand placed in a protective stance over the latter's back.
"IF YOU FIND SOMEONE YOU LOVE IN LIFE, YOU MUST HANG ONTO IT AND LOOK AFTER IT, YOU MUST PROTECT IT." DIANA- PRINCESS OF WALES
Tommy Merlyn can't believe it, but Oliver Queen does all these things for Felicity Smoak