DISCLAIMER: If I actually owned Arrow, Oliver Queen would stop making questionable life choices. Since we all know that's never gonna happen, it's safe to say I don't actually own Arrow.
A/N: So there I was, ready to listen to another unsung hero from Team Arrow, when Josie barged right in and demanded to be listened to. This was apparently important to her, and after hearing her tale, I don't really blame her. I'm sorry. I hope next update comes from someone we haven't met yet.
A month after the Ducati, a red Mini Cooper sits in front of the shop, with the same request for Josie's work, written in a familiar hand. It's supposed to be a simple oil change, but figuring it's coming from the Hood, Josie marks it for a thorough inspection, but has to deal with another car that's due for pickup early, so she focuses on that first.
The Mini's not in too bad shape. The tires need rotating and she checks all the belts and fluids before a commotion at the front catches her attention. The pit isn't completely closed off from the front register, and from her spot under the hood, she can see a tall guy with dark hair and a really sharp suit gesturing at Willie: the garage's owner. He looks pretty insistent and Willie eventually turns and calls her over.
Curious, Josie wipes her hands on her pocket rag and sidles up to the two men at the counter. Up close she can see that the customer's clean shaven, classically handsome and completely out of place in the Glades wearing a tailored suit. For a second she wonders if he's lost. He smiles in a charming manner, but he's not her type and she's not impressed. Still, she's not a mannerless heathen, and offers him a quick perfunctory smile of her own. "What's goin' on?" she asks her boss.
"That Mini: you see who brought it in?" Willie asks, though they both know very well the car was sitting in the lot before the garage opened for the day.
"Noooo," she says slowly, watching the customer in her periph. She wonders for two seconds if he's gonna say the car she's working on is stolen. But guys that tall don't drive cars that short, so it can't be his.
The dude must catch her hesitance, because suddenly, he bursts into animation. "Ray Palmer!" he interjects, holding out a hand to shake.
Out of habit, the Josie raises her hands in fair warning of the grease and oil she's accumulated working on cars all morning.
Palmer's eyes widen in surprise for half a second before the corner of his mouth tugs in a grin, that's as much an acknowledgement for her work as it is a perfunctory apology for causing a faux pas (and Charlie owes her five bucks cause she just used two SAT words in a sentence! Booyah!) The man pulls his hand back and gestures once again to the Mini in the pit. "It's just...that's my friend's car, and I thought she'd be with it. I can't seem to get a hold of her." He offers reasonably with a larger smile.
Smile. It makes people wonder what you've been up to. The old phrase she used to smirk at, flashed across her mind.
"Did she say she'd be here?" Willie asks curiously. The garage is known for its honest work, but not it's waiting room, which is basically two stools at the counter, three older issues of drag racing magazines and a tiny black and white tv at the far end of the counter. Customers rarely waited unless the job could be done right then, in the amount of time it took to change oil.
"Well, no," the man admits with a slightly sheepish shrug, while sounding anything but. Which is weird.
So why is Ray Palmer here? Especially when he's already said that he can't get in contact with his friend. And if that's the case, then how did he know where her car would be?
Josie glances over her shoulder at the car, assessing it carefully to see if there's anything distinct about it, that would immediately stand out. Other than the fact it's obviously the nicest car in the pit, there's nothing she can see that someone could specifically point out about the vehicle. She swings her gaze back to the man and tilts her head. "No offense, sir...but you sure this is your friend's car? Starling's not that small. This can't be the only red Mini in town."
Palmer pins her with an searching look. His eyes narrow in thought and she can almost see the cogs in his head turning. She has no doubt this guy's pretty smart, and really slick (he just bought out Queen Consolidated, after all). Josie does her best to stare back at him evenly. She's used to being stared down by guys several times her size, hoping to intimidate her, but she's been a Glades babe all her life and she's past that pointless pissing contest, especially when she refuses to be cowed. This guy is seriously making the hair on the back of her neck rise, though.
"I'm sure this is her car," he tells her simply after a beat or two. "But I guess she's not here." He makes a show of simply scanning the place like Wille's stashed some random female in the tiny front space. He blows out a breath. "Any idea when she'll be back to pick it up?"
Josie blinks at him, incredulously. Apparently Ray Palmer was checking up on a girl, the way she knew some of the "boyfriends" of the Glades did. Her stomach drops. Bolstering herself with the thought of reporting this to the Arrow, Josie offers the man more teeth than smile. "Nope! Not a clue," she chirps brightly. She thrills at defeating creep-plots. She turns back to Willie. "I'm gonna get back to work."
The older man nods and Josie returns to the Mini in the pit, purposefully not looking at the man in the suit, despite the fact she can feel his damn creepy gaze from that far.
Palmer leaves shortly after that, but the creep check up prompts her to spending an extra large amount inspecting the car. Something about a random one percent-er knowing where a car that doesn't belong to him is doesn't sit right with her. She doesn't honestly expect to find anything, using mechanic texts and Google to help her understand each component she's looking at, until she comes across something unreferenced on the underside of the driver's side, just underneath where someone would step into the car. It's no bigger than the size of a dime, and detaches fairly easily. There's a sinking feeling somewhere between her chest and her stomach, 'cause Josie's seen enough tv to understand that she's looking at a tracker of some sort...which explains Palmer in the scummiest of ways.
She takes vindictive pleasure in crunching the tracker under the heel of her work boot, and wonders how she's gonna explain this to the man in green.
The Arrow obviously gets her message she left with the car, because later that night he raps on her window, scaring the ever loving fuck out of her, before pointing up.
Josie keeps an eye out all around as she joins him on the roof of her apartment. She heard the satisfying crunch of the device when she stepped on it, but she's not quite sure she's knocked it out of commission. So there's no telling if anyone's tracking her or not.
"What is it?" Arrow's modulated voice asks, jumping right in.
Josie doesn't waste any time. The vigilante is a busy man. She holds up the tracker. "The red Mini Cooper you left me was being stalked."
There's a moment where he freezes, literally holds himself stone still, before striding forward to pluck the tracker out of Josie's hand, studying the crushed object carefully.
She lets out a short breath before dropping the bomb. Ally or not (and they SO have to be, because no one just drops a new customer in your lap out of nowhere), the Arrow's kinda scary-even if he lets her get away with sassing him. "The owner's a girl?" He doesn't answer at all, but his silence is pointed enough. Fine, she'll work with what she's given. "Ray Palmer showed up today at the garage; looking for her."
"Ray...Palmer?" a synthetic voice repeats. It almost has a tone to it, but it's hard to tell under the modulator. He doesn't sound pleased though.
"Yeah: dude who bought out Queen Consi-"
"I'm aware of who he is," Green growls, cutting her off.
Josie nearly shrinks back, but reminds herself she's got this meeting, simply because she's got the info. She straightens up and gives him the low down. "Well guy shows up middle of the day, looking around for a girl, saying the Coop's her car, but basically admitting that she never called him over and he was keeping tabs on her." She pauses levels the Arrow with a look. "That's the kinda shit you see in abusive relationships, so maybe you should pay him a visit and find out why he thinks it's okay to be keeping tabs on random women. That's like, stalker creepy and that's not okay."
Living in the Glades makes you well aware of all the shitty ways human beings behave towards each other, and bad relationships are showcased every day around here. But she's not naive enough to believe that kind of crap only happens in this district. It's almost worse that it's someone like Palmer, cause guys like that are absolutely used to getting their way all the time, and he's definitely got the means to keep up with any woman he wants...apparently without them knowing about it. That thought makes Josie shiver a little and glance around again.
"I'll look into it," the guy in green says.
That's what the cops say all the time. Josie's taken it for code to mean nothing's gonna get done. "I'd rather you deal with it," she snaps, not caring for a second that her mouth is getting away from her with a pretty dangerous man. "I know you got a million other people to arrow or some shit, but this is important, too! I don't know who this person is, but if it's a friend of yours, I'd think you'd care a little bit more about it."
He fiddles with his fingers for a second, like he's thinking about what he's going to say. "I'm not the police."
She snorts. "That's for damn sure," she agrees quickly.
He continues like she hadn't just cut him off. "When I say I'll do something, I will. But looking into it means I need to do my research because I don't have all the pieces to the puzzle yet." He pauses, and for a second, Josie swears he seems almost approachable for a second as he catches her eye. "But I'm not sweeping it under the rug." He means it, which'll have to satisfy her.
She nods in recognition.
"Thank you," he says, sounding more like the vigilante she knows. Gruff and intimidating, but well-meaning.
She shrugs and steps back half a step, ready to get off the roof and out of easy eyesight. This whole thing's given her the heebie jeebies. "Hey, in this world, girls gotta stick together."
He nods before turning to leave. "Stay safe," he tosses over his shoulder.
"Happy Hunting!" she volleys back, watching him disappear off the roof.
For the record, I know Ray's not a bad guy. He's nice and charming and incredibly charismatic, but he seems to have a problem with boundaries. He pinged Felicity's phone and showed up unannounced on her doorstep. And while he doesn't mean anything by it, it does come off as slightly worrying behaviour. I can kinda see where Josie is coming from, especially since she doesn't have all the facts, just the stuff she's been presented with and draws what she believes is a logical conclusion. Considering that, can you blame her for her line of thought?
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