Chapter Three: Hollaback girl
They are almost halfway back to the City but Felicity isn't exactly sure why she's still in the car. She'd been adamant and strong in her desire to stay in her own apartment, and yet, she was in his car again.
She takes a breath and tries again. "Oliver. This really isn't necessary. I'll be just fine in my place. Nothing was taken and they obviously didn't think my tv was worth anything. I honestly don't think they'll be back again." She can see Oliver's hands tighten around his steering wheel and she knows she's said the wrong thing.
"Exactly Felicity. They didn't take anything. But they did cut open your couch and your matrass. So, either they were looking for something specific, or they were angry they couldn't find anything of use. Either way, they might come back and 'ask'," he doesn't actually use his fingers to air-quote, but she can hear it in his voice, "you for whatever it is they want."
He huffs out a harsh breath. "And what if they were after you? Did you even think about that? There have been attacks on young women in your neighborhood for the past few weeks, obviously with the intent of kidnapping the women. If the Green Arrow hadn't been there to stop them, 4 women would have been missing right now. You could have been the fifth."
Felicity feels a familiar stab of guilt when he reminds her again about the attacks. She was supposed to protect the girls in her neighborhood, she was the one who was onto Pavel and his nefarious dealings. But it had been the Green Arrow who'd saved the day. Not that she was jealous of him. No, she was thankful he'd been there – even though he hadn't been spotted in her neighborhood before two weeks ago – and stopped the attacks. She felt guilty because she hadn't been doing her job. Well, not her night job.
She'd been so busy with Smoak Tech and finding out information about Pavel, she'd neglected her duty on the streets, protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. It was the whole reason why she did what she did. She had once been someone not able to protect herself, and she'd faced the horrible consequences of that, she still had the scars to remind her.
"I can honestly protect myself, Oliver." He looks at her from the side of his eyes, and there's doubt clouding the deep blue. She should feel indignant about it, but she's a 5"4' blonde female who weighs about a hundred pounds soaking wet. People underestimate her, a lot.
He just keeps driving. "I'm not letting you stay there all by yourself Felicity. Not only for safety, but they cut open your bed and couch, so you don't even have anything to sleep on. You made it pretty clear you won't stay at a hotel, so there's only one solution to this predicament."
He slows down the car and pulls it into a sublevel garage. "It's not a problem, and at least that way I know for sure you're safe." His eyes are focused on his steering wheel while he says it, and Felicity can't really tell in the low lighting of the garage, but she could swear he's blushing. Then he looks up at her though and there's mischief shining in his eyes. "After all, it would only be responsible to keep a QC asset safe, wouldn't it?"
Before she's even had a chance to blink, he's out of the car and pulling her little suitcase from the trunk. The wheels squeak on the concrete as he moves towards the elevator, and she's got to hurry to keep up.
When Felicity enters the loft, her mouth drops and she's suddenly got the urge to sing an old Gwen Stefani song, because the apartment really is bananas. The wall facing the door is almost completely made out of glass, giving it a wonderful view of the City behind it. There's a set of double doors leading to a narrow, metal balcony, that looks perfect for late-night pondering.
A tiny chuckle from Oliver alerts her she's said that out loud, and her cheeks instantly heat a little. He scrapes his throat. "Okay, so, it's a little late at night for the grand tour of the place. But on your left, is the kitchen and dining room."
She turns her head. The kitchen is open plan, with a long row of cupboards lining one wall and a giant kitchen island in front of them. The dining room isn't much of an actual room in itself, its long wooden table more a natural extension of the kitchen than anything else. The whole thing is pretty modern and sterile, but still gives a homey vibe.
"The living room," Oliver continues and she focusses her attention on the space between her and the back windows. There's a big, comfortable looking sofa, a low coffee table and a giant tv above an even more giant fireplace. Behind the pillar with the tv and stove, she can spot more open space, probably a study or something of that kind.
Oliver picks up her suitcase and moves towards the stairs. "Up here are the bedrooms. They both have an on-suite, so there's no fighting over the bathroom in the morning." He gives her a wink and walks up the oak and steel stairs. On the second floor, she can see the entire flat beneath her.
"You can stay in the spare bedroom as long as you need to." He says it like it's no big deal. Like he invites women he's only known for about a month to live with him every day. Well, he's probably invited plenty of women into his home, just not for an extended period. From what she's heard of Ollie Queen, he's more the bed-for-one-night type. Or at least, he used to be.
"Actually, I've never brought a woman home, not since I moved here anyway." What he actually means to say is, 'Not since my return from the Island', but he doesn't need to, to get the message across. There's no anger in his voice, but maybe a little weariness, like he's growing tired of the same old assumptions about himself. Felicity feels like a cartoon character, all round, bulging eyes and Mickey Mouse-pants red. She and her big mouth!
"I'm sorry, Oliver. I didn't mean it the way that sounded. I wasn't trying to be ungrateful or judgy." She looks at him a little sheepish and embarrassed. "But honestly," she tries again, "this really isn't necessary. I can just get a new door, fix my bed and couch and I'll be perfectly fine in my own apartment."
He just levels her a look, pushes open a door and drops the suitcase and a key on the bed. "Make yourself at home Felicity. The contents of my fridge and the tv are all yours, and the doorman is informed about your stay here." He walks back out to the hallway. "Goodnight Felicity."
Then he's gone, and she's left beside the biggest bed she's ever seen. She sighs tiredly, and stares at the fluffy looking pillows longingly, but there's no rest for the wicked, and she's got to see a man about a goat.
She waits for a while longer, making sure Oliver is asleep, before she opens her door again. Felicity gently walks down the oak and steel staircase, her shoes in her hands and her purse hanging on her shoulder.
Luckily, everything in this state-of-the-art apartment was new, no creaking stairs or floorboards, and the front door opens smoothly and without sound. When she closes it again, she takes a deep breath of relief. Doing what she did was hard enough if you lived by yourself, but if you had to hide it from roommates or loved ones… it was absolutely nerve wrecking, and it was only the first night.
She needed to go back to her place, find out what she could about what had happened. She'd been blasé about the entire thing to Oliver, like she wasn't worried about it, but she was. Considering her extra-curricular activities, she couldn't risk anything. She had to know who had been in her apartment and if they had targeted her because of Felicity, or because of Oracle.
Oliver's loft was located in the gentrified part of the Glades, closing the gap between the mature and serious part of the City proper, and the downtrodden, down-on-its-luck part of the Glades. It had been rebuilt after the terrorist attack that had cost the lives of 503 people, and it was now populated with the young and wealthy, who'd read somewhere that urban was 'in' and industrial was the way to go.
The good thing about the location, was that it was only a few blocks away from Felicity's… lair, so to speak, and she wasted no time getting there and getting dressed.
The black leather fit her like a glove, and the vest over it gave her something sensual and dangerous. Her blonde hair got covered with the red wig and her eyes with the gift she'd gotten from a friend in Central City just a few days ago. She loved every bit of it.
Oracle was ready to roam the streets once again.
"What are you doing here." The green figure instantly raises his bow when he hears the electronically distorted voice. Felicity doesn't even flinch.
They're standing head to head in what had – only hours ago – been her living room, the low lighting that came from the streetlight near the window making the whole place look even sadder than it had earlier.
"I could ask you the same thing," comes his equally distorted voice.
Felicity shrugs. "Professional curiosity?" Her eyes roam over what is left of her home, but there isn't anything that stands out to her.
His eyes narrow at her. Or at least, that's what she thinks he's doing, since she can't actually see much of his face.
"How do I know this isn't your doing?" his modifier makes his voice sound growly and gravelly, and Felicity tries to memorize the tone for later. She might need it in again in the future.
She replies like he had, only minutes before. "I could ask you the same thing." Her voice holds a challenge, one he doesn't seem to appreciate or have a reply to."
He's quiet for a moment, and Felicity's eyes fly over the stuff in her home again and again, but nothing. They say insanity was going the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.
"Why are you here?" he suddenly asks her, and she instinctively knows he's not referring to the apartment.
"I go where I'm needed."
"You're not welcome here. This is my city, and I'll keep it safe."
She snorts. "You and I have very different definitions of safe. In case you've forgotten, 'your'", she air-quotes with her fingers, "city has been the victim of not one, but two megalomaniacs in the time you've been running these streets. So, maybe you should move over and let some new blood take charge for a change."
Her words strike a chord with him and before she knows it, an arrow whooshes past her ear. It seems she's gone too far with the taunting, something she really needs to work on. If it's a fight he wants though, she'll give him one. His testosterone won't scare her off, she's got work to do.
Felicity reaches for her two staves and knocks two arrows from the air before connecting them and dropping into fight stance.
They circle around each other, seizing the other up and then the game is on. Her bo staff twirls through the air and there's a metal clang when it hits his bow, blocking her swing. His fist comes towards her but she darts away.
The intensity of the fight escalates, and the blows come faster. She hits him in the jaw and lands a few hits on his ribs. He's bigger and stronger than she is, but she's faster. Even so, he lands a couple good punches and she can feel the bruises form while she's retreating.
They're both bloody and breathing hard and Felicity is suddenly struck by the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Whether he realizes it or not, they're on the same side and fighting each other is not productive.
She swipes suddenly with her staff, and he's caught unawares. His back hits the floor and before he gets back up, she's got her staff at his throat.
"We're not enemies, Arrow." She whispers, before turning and fleeing the scene.
There's a rhythmic, pounding sound coming from somewhere, shaking her from her sleep with a frown. After she'd 'dropped off' Oracle at her hide-out, she'd gone back to the loft and gone straight to bed. Her arms and stomach had started to turn blue already, and she had difficulty breathing. Probably some busted ribs. She'd slept badly, tossing and turning both from worry about the break-in and because of the pain, but around sun up she'd finally fallen into a light sleep. Which was now being disturbed by the pounding.
She gets up with a groan, and heads towards the sound.
"Keep it the hell down, will ya." She growls while opening the front door.
The dark-haired man standing in front of her is quiet at once. His jaw falls open and his eyes roam over her fairly naked form.
She's 'dressed' in a men's shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and the hem falling somewhere mid-thigh. It's the first thing with sleeves she'd located before coming down the stairs, but she suddenly realizes how it must look to the familiar stranger standing in front of her.
He seems to find his voice again, and there's a smile on his face when his eyes meet up with hers. "Well hello there, mysterious and beautiful stranger. I must be mistaken, but I could swear this was my best friend's place." He leans his shoulder against the doorpost. "I seem to be wrong, but happily so. What's your name, gorgeous?"
Felicity opens her mouth to react, strangely flattered and amused by this man, who is – very publicly – engaged to the daughter of an SCPD Captain. But before she can get in a word edgewise, Oliver's arm appears above hers, holding onto the door.
He's standing very close to her, and even though she can't actually see him, she's got the distinct impression he's about as naked as she is.
"Tommy," he almost growls at the other man, "what the hell are you doing here at," he frowns at the huge clock hanging from the wall in the kitchen, "10 AM on a Saturday?"
Tommy, who's been taking in the picture they are obviously making, with her wearing a men's shirt and him bare-chested, barely registers the gruffness of Oliver.
"Obviously interrupting something. My bad." He raises his hands in sign of surrender. "But I've got something you should see." He looks at Oliver with a sudden and strange intensity in his eyes, and Felicity can't shake the feeling that she's missing a silent conversation.
She's starting to feel a little awkward, standing in-between two very attractive men, with only a thin layer of cotton to protect her, and with the silent back-and-forth that's going on between the two.
"I'm just gonna…," she vaguely waves her hands towards the staircase and ducks under Oliver's arm towards it. As she's doing this, she can see newly formed bruises on his ribcage, 4 thin lines, evenly spaced at an upward angle. Like he's come into fairly hard contact with a metal fence of some sort. Or a…." She hurries away from the men, her mind going around in circles, trying to piece together a picture she can't really believe.
Oliver follows her up the stairs, moving towards his own room. "I need to take care of something with Tommy. I'll see you later." He's turned away from her a little, like he's hiding the bruises she spotted earlier. She nods at him before entering her room and closing the door.
As she leans against it, she starts to shake her head. It couldn't be. He was a pampered rich boy, basically clueless about how the real world works, locked in an ivory tower of privilege and money.
But he'd been away for years. Stranded on an island, forced to survive Google only knows what. And the Green Arrow appeared around the same time Oliver returned, wearing a disguise that fit better in a jungle than an urban area. He was strangely focused on his surroundings and silent as a ghost when he moved.
So maybe…?
She heard him say goodbye, before the front door closed and she was alone.
She thought about it some more when she was getting dressed, and while she ate a little breakfast, but it was still very difficult to mesh the Oliver she'd come to know, with the Green Arrow she'd fought the night before. She couldn't believe it before she had evidence to support her theory, but she couldn't very well snoop through his underwear drawer, right. Although the thought was a little tempting. Was Oliver a boxer or briefs kind of guy…
She shakes her head, not wanting to go down that road. He is her sort of boss, and even if she was maybe, a little bit attracted to him, it wouldn't ever be anything more than that. A little, teensy weensy crush.
Felicity moves around the apartment, trying to find anything out of place, anything that could give her a hint about Oliver. There's nothing really to find. The kitchen has the usual things in it, plates, cutlery, glasses and food. No embellishments on the walls in either the living room or the dining room. There's some pictures on the desk in the study, normal stuff. His parents and his sister mainly, but nothing suspicious or strange.
The fireplace isn't two-sided which Felicity thinks is a damn shame. It would look even better in the loft if the pillar was open at both ends, giving even more the illusion of space.
She walks towards it, thinking it's odd the architect didn't think about it, when she spots something odd. There's a strange, fluorescent light coming from underneath the wall, like it's not actually a wall but … a door.
It takes her 15 minutes to hack the electronics and the door slides open, revealing metal stairs going up.
When she reaches the top, her jaw drops, and there's no doubt in her mind anymore.
Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow.