An: I do not own Arrow.

June

He had been in Vegas a month and he still didn't have a job. He barely had enough money to feed himself for the rest of the week. He had taken a new route on his early morning run. He had gone west for three blocks and turned left onto a mildly busy street. He had heard the neighbours that argue talking about a convenience store that was located on this street. He decided to check it out. Perhaps they needed a cashier or cleaner. On his way to the store he passed a local bar, Off The Beaten Strip, with a sign that said they were looking for a bartender. Bingo. He could do that. He still continued on to the convenience store though. He bought the cheapest bottle of water, in order to flirt with the young cashier a bit. He was disappointed to find out that they had no openings. He also questioned her about the bar. It was the local watering hole. It was owned by an old man who lived in a small room behind the establishment. It had been there as long as she could remember. The girl tried to get Oliver to take her on a date but he shut down the conversation quickly. He had no money to spend on dates.

The bar wouldn't be open until the afternoon so Oliver explored this side of town a little more before he decided to run back to his apartment. At 2:30pm he had a shower, pulled out one of the last clean shirts and a dress pants he had been saving for a job interview. The one good thing about short hair was he didn't have to comb it much or add gel.

He walked at a leisurely pace. He didn't want to sweat through his shirt. He needed to impress. Twenty minutes later he was standing in front of the open bar. He said a silent prayer, which was odd since he never used to pray before, and entered the building.

Inside the bar was a lot bigger than he thought. It appeared to span straight across to the next street. It was dark with soft lighting. The bar itself was about ten feet long made out of polished wood with bar stools in front. There were fountains for beer both draft and light, as well as a vast display of different liquors on shelves behind the bar. The glasses were both over head and in cabinets behind the bar. There were three big screen TVs on the wall opposite the bar and one over the bar that each had a sports related event. Just off to the left of the entrance there was a dart table taking up the space before the bar started. The tables and chairs were more to the front of the building. At the very back of the building there was one pool table and foosball table. The space between the gaming area and bar area had a small square polished dance floor. You could dance either to the juke box or a live band that he guessed would occupy the small raised stage off to the side of the floor. It had everything a sports bar/restaurant should have.

"Hi, I'm Oliver Arrow," he greeted the old man behind the bar. He assumed this was the owner. "I'm interested in the bartending job,"

The man looked him up and down. "What experience you got?"

"I'm know my liquor well," Oliver replied thinking of the years he spent partying and hosting parties.

"Really mix me something," the old man challenged.

Oliver moved behind the bar and quickly scanned the liquor the bar offered. He decided to go with a common known drink, long island ice tea but he added his own little Queen twist to it. In two minutes he had the drink prepared. He even added a few fancy moves like flipping a few bottles. He and Tommy used to have fun showing those moves off to girls.

He placed the drink in front of the old man, "You don't strike me as the type to want a cherry or olive," Oliver said to him.

The old man took a sip. "It's good kid. Most of my customers are beer drinkers though. So there's not much work to do other than popping the cork here and there. When the occasional tourist stops by, they order these sorts of fancy drinks."

Oliver nodded. It seemed like the man might give him the job.

"By the way you got a record?"

Ah, the usual deal breaker. Oliver knew he could lie, he had lied before but a simple background check always revealed his record.

"I did a little time, nothing serious. I'm a straight arrow now," he said and realised he had made an unintentional pun.

"Sorry kid, I don't make it a habit to hire ex-cons," the old man said.

"I'm trying to turn my life around but I can't do that if nobody gives me a job. I've tried everywhere," Oliver pleaded.

"Come on Bob, give the kid a chance," a blonde waitress in a tight blue dress said.

"Easy for you to say Donna,"

"What's it going to cost you Bob? Try him out. If he doesn't work out then don't pay him."

"I'll do it." Oliver agreed quickly.

"You see that Bob, the kid is willing. We really needed a bartender like last week," she said to him.

Bob turned his green eyes to Oliver and studied him intently. Oliver wondered if the man was seeing his soul.

"Ok, if you want this job kid, then you star now, I'm Bob, that waitress that told me to hire you is Donna and the other one that's around here somewhere is Alice. Carl is out sick. He's the bus boy. Normally there is also a bouncer for security but I had to fire him last week after a brawl got out of hand. I'll hire a new one soon. The bar opens from 3pm to midnight, Sunday - Thursday and on Friday and Saturday from 3pm – 2am, though some locals have been known to keep us open later."

Oliver felt relieved, he finally had a job, he just needed to prove himself with this one night. Donna smiled at him before she went back to preparing the tables. He soon met Alice, the other waitress, a middle aged woman with red hair green eyes and freckles. As the regulars came in Donna and Alice introduced him. Things were going ok, Bob tended to stick to the kitchen. It was when Oliver went to get some buffalo wings from the kitchen that one of his customers ordered did Oliver realise that the mirrors behind the bar were two way mirrors that gave Bob a good view of what was actually going on outside.

Around 9:00pm, a petite blonde with glasses entered the bar. She hopped up on a bar stool close to him.

"You must be the new bartender," she said to him cocking her head to the side to study him. Her bright red lipstick drew his eyes to her lips.

"Yeah, you want a beer?" he asked her. Everyone had ordered a beer so far.

She crunched her face up in disgust, "Bottom cabinet on the left. There's a bottle of red wine. Pour me a glass of that. Bob gets it just for me."

Sure enough when he checked the cabinet, the bottle was there. He uncorked it and poured her a glass.

"Hi baby doll! Have you met our nice yummy bartender," Donna gushed looking between the blonde and Oliver.

"Mom!" Felicity said embarrassed, her eyes going wide behind her square frames.

"Mom?" Oliver repeated looking between both blondes. He definitely didn't think Donna had a daughter old enough to be drinking in a bar.

"Oliver, this is my daughter Felicity. Felicity honey, this is Oliver. Isn't he the most handsome man you've ever seen! The two of you would make beautiful babies."

Felicity's head snapped towards her mother, "Please stop embarrassing me. This is almost as bad as orientation."

Oliver chuckled at the two blondes.

Mortified, Felicity took her glass retreating to the small office that Bob occupied during the day in the back.

"She'll come around. My baby's a genius," Donna gushed.

The rest of the night was slow but Oliver found that his female customers tipped way better than the men, particularly when he flexed his biceps. He would have to take advantage of that. At the end of the night, Bob declared that he had done a sufficient job, choosing to pay him for his night's work and told him he could come back tomorrow. He was ecstatic but Bob did warn him he was on probation for the month. Any sign of trouble and he would kick him to the curb.

Oliver made a quick run to his apartment building. Despite the hour of the night, it was bustling with activity. Two men, probably clients, were on their way out as Oliver came in. A drug dealer tried to get his attention but he ignored him, heading to the stairs and taking them three at a time. As soon as he reached his apartment he slammed the door shut engaging the deadbolt immediately. Now that he had a job and the tips were decent, he could probably try to move out once the three months were up.

After a quick shower, he collapsed into his sleeping bag. He reflected on what he had learnt during his first day. Donna used to be a cocktail waitress at one of the big casinos. She was quite popular until she got sick; breast cancer to be precise. The Chemo had wrecked havoc on her and she couldn't work. Felicity had just graduated at the top of her class from MIT. Instead of her finding a job at a big corporate enterprise such as Queen Consolidated, she rushed home to take care of her mom. When money got tight, Felicity wrote a security programme for one of the hotels and sold it to them. It was a great success and soon all the hotels wanted her programme tweaked specifically to the needs of their hotel. It brought in the money needed for Donna's medical bills. The doctors think they caught it before it spread. Donna was supposed to be in remission now. She couldn't get her previous job back so Bob offered her a job and she took it. That was how she ended up at the bar. Felicity came every night to collect her mother after work in a tiny red mini cooper. He got all of that out of Donna in a five minute conversation. She really liked to talk.

Alice also used to work at one of the larger casinos. She had been kicked out for sleeping with the clientele. More specifically, after a bad romantic entanglement with one of the high rollers, the high roller had had her fired. She was still in her late thirties but she claimed she had learned her lesson. No more double dealing men. She was currently dating an accountant, Fred, the same accountant that came in once a week to do Bob's books for him.

Bob handled the management of the bar during the day and the cooking responsibilities at night. Bob's Buffalo wings were sensational and all of the regulars ordered it. Bob was the ripe old age of seventy five but he was the fittest old man Oliver had ever seen. He bustled about the bar, filling in wherever help was needed. All of the customers loved him. Not a single one would leave without saying goodbye to Bob first.

The bus boy, Carl, was supposed to help the waitress clear away tables and wash the dishes but he was supposedly sick. According to Alice at least once a week he called in sick. The boy had flunked out of high school at 15. Carl's grandfather was a good friend of Bob's and he had promised the man that he would help him. Donna warned him that when Carl was there he needed to keep him away from the bar. Not only did the boy like to hit on the girls at the bar, some drinks tended to go missing. The last bar tender had quit because Bob refused to fire the young boy.

Jun-2

The next day he met Carl. The boy was thin and lanky with blood shot eyes. He strongly suspected that Donna and Alice needed to add that he was a drug addict to their description of Carl. The boy came in late, something that Bob disapproved of. The old man spoke to him about it but Carl just brushed him aside. The boy knew that Bob felt indebted to his grandfather and was taking advantage of the situation. Carl did in fact make an appearance at the bar the moment the Hoffman twins entered. They worked at a boutique on the strip and liked to come in after to work to unwind with a beer.

Oliver took a bathroom break around 8 and when he came back out, Carl was behind the bar. He eyed him suspiciously. Carl claimed a customer needed a drink and he helped him out. Oliver looked around the bar and he saw no one new. Everyone was still nursing the beers he had given them.

When Oliver closed up the register for the night he realised that $50.00 was missing out of the register. He knew automatically that Carl had taken the money but not wanting to make a scene, Oliver used his tips that night to put in the register so it would balance. He was new to this job, on probation and he certainly wasn't going to accuse a fellow co-worker who was definitely not going to be fired of theft. He really needed this job so Oliver decided to be quiet but to keep a closer eye on his bar.

Jun-3

On his third day at the bar, a new bouncer named John Diggle was hired. He was an ex-special forces Army Ranger and had done two tours in Afghanistan. The man was reserved and observed everybody that came and went with a careful eye. The ladies liked him as well, particularly when he escorted them outside to ensure they made it safely to their cars. As soon as any customer got loud, he would move within arm reach of the person in case things escalated. He was very pro-active. What Oliver really liked was that when Oliver timed his break to Carl's smoke break outside, he found Diggle standing right next to the bar watching Carl keenly. The slimy little sucker had slipped in as soon as Oliver turned his back.

That night, one of the regulars stayed later than usual and he discovered that the floors and bathrooms were cleaned every night by an immigrant family from Mexico who arrived thirty minutes after the bar was supposed to close. Bob trusted them with keys. They worked very hard, for very little pay but it didn't bother them. Only one member of their family spoke English, their 13 year old son who came along as a translator. The parents were there illegally. Their son had been born on this side of the border. Locals around there referred to such kids as anchor babies. Bob didn't seem to mind. They were decent people who he could trust. They were willing to do work that none of the locals were willing to do and they worked harder at it. He didn't see any reason why he should not employ them. It was that night that Oliver realised that Bob valued hard work and trust.

Jun-4

In an effort to receive more tips, Oliver had started doing push ups before going to sleep to get more definition on his biceps. He also wore tighter shirts that emphasised his physique. The girls paid him a lot of attention but Bob had warned him that he was not allowed to fraternise with the customers even after work hours. It tended to cause complications for business. Donna and Alice loved the increase in tips. There was a general understanding that everyone at the bar worked hard and the tips were split evenly. Even though Bob was the cook, he argued that he owned the business so he did not take any money from the tips. Soon even Diggle started to receive a portion since the ladies were tipping him generously for the escort. Diggle had honestly put the money in their tip jar instead of secretly keeping it. When Donna offered him a share he had refused but she told him he worked equally as hard and he deserved some of the extra cash since she knew Bob didn't pay him anywhere near what he deserved for having to put up with some of the more clingy females.

Jun-5

Oliver had discovered that Bob owned a washer and dryer. One night after the bar had closed, he decided to approach Bob.

"Uh Bob, can I talk to you a second,"

"Sure kid, what's up?" Bob asked looking at him.

"I kind of need a favour?" Oliver asked.

"I do not give advances or lend money," Bob said immediately.

"No it's not that," Oliver said quickly, "I was wondering if you would let me use your washer and dryer. I kind of need to do laundry and I don't know where to go. I'll pay you to use it,"

Bob looked him up and down, "Now that you mention it I think you wore that same shirt on Monday. Come in early tomorrow. You can use the machines before work starts."

"Great thank you so much,"

The next day Oliver filled one garbage bag full of clothes. He didn't want to scare Bob with too many bags. He arrived two hours early and Bob let him in, showing him where the machines were. Ten minutes later when Bob came back Oliver was still staring at the machine. There were so many options and dials to adjust. He didn't know what to do.

"Kid you're looking at that machine as if it ate your wallet,"

"I wasn't too sure about the setting to choose," Oliver admitted reluctantly.

"Whites or colours?" Bob asked.

"What?" Oliver asked confused.

"Are you doing white or colours?"

When Oliver still looked confused Bob sighed, "you're obviously a mama's boy then who has never done a day of laundry in his life. I thought they made you work in the laundry room in prison,"

"I have never worked in a laundry room," Oliver said.

"Ok where's your detergent I'll help you out,"

"Detergent?" Oliver asked.

Bob looked at Oliver incredulously.

"Ok kid, I'm going to help you just this once. Listen closely because there is a lot to learn," the older man said.

Oliver listened intently as the man explained. Laundry sounded like a science of its own and he never realised that so much work went to it, particularly when he had to fold his own clothes.

Jun-6

By the end of the month, Oliver knew all the regulars by name. He knew what was going on in each of their lives and he could tell by the way they walked through the door if they wanted a beer or if they needed something a little harder. People really did talk a lot to bartenders.

By 9:00pm each night, Oliver had a glass of red wine waiting for Felicity, his favourite regular. He had learned a lot about her. He liked her babbling and her accidental innuendos. It made every conversation with her unique. They had bonded over their dislike of Carl. Both she and Diggle would watch the bar for him if he needed a break. In return, he often chased men away from her when she just wanted to sit in silence and enjoy her glass. Both she and her mother were fond of picking songs from the juke box and dancing on the floor. Donna was more brash about it, she would do it in a full bar. Felicity tended to wait until the bar had emptied down to just them before dancing. Oliver liked to watch her dance. The only thing he didn't like when talking to her was hearing about Cooper, her boyfriend from MIT who still lived in Boston and wanted her to return there.

June had gone much better than May and he was optimistic that he was going to beat his father at his own game.