Disclaimer: Don't own it.
I apologize for the delay. I hit burnout at the end of may/start of june and while it only lasted a few days as true burnout, it set me back across the board.
Jimmy Tarallo and Christine Alpert are both names that appeared on the list in canon, they were just never targeted onscreen, and their actual crimes are unknown.
I also want to note - the term 'thin blue line' has been used to describe police as the only thing preventing society from slipping into violent chaos as far back as the 1920s. Your views on the merits of this position are your own, but it certainly is the POV of many cops.
While obviously the history of the intersection between cops and violent white supremacy is... complicated, it wasn't until 2014, and even 2017 when the term was really latched onto by white supremacists who weren't even cops, so Loren's use of the term here predates those later events.
Different Queens
By Kylia
Judge, Jury and Executioner
"Look, at this point I'm committed and I can hardly try to turn on you even if I wanted to, but I didn't sign up to enable murder, Olivia," Tara Michele told her 'charge', watching Olivia examine her bow, do something with it. Probably the archer's equivalent of disassembling and cleaning your gun, Tara assumed.
She'd said Olivia was the good kind of crazy and Tara had meant it.
Like a lot of people who joined the military these days, Tara Michele's family was poor. They'd been lucky enough to escape Bludhaven, but the neighborhood on the fringes of the Glades where she'd grown up had been Triad territory, and they hadn't been the safest of communities. With college not an option without more scholarships - she'd managed a few, but not enough to cover all the expenses - the army was the best option available to her.
She'd gone into the US Army believing in becoming part of something bigger than yourself, serving her country, protecting the American way of life, protecting her fellow Americans. Honor, Integrity, Duty - all of it. She'd been a soldier's soldier.
Years of service in a place like Afghanistan, and seeing what she'd seen, seeing what too many soldiers had done, what those marines had done, what her own former squadmates had done...
She still believed in those values, but she knew, whatever its aspirations, the Army, Armed Forces in general failed to live up to them as much as they claimed.
And she'd come back home and been reminded how much justice was an advisory opinion here in Starling City.
"What happened to Jimmy Taralo wasn't murder, it was justice." Olivia countered, not looking up from her bow. "I gave him a chance. To turn himself in, to surrender the fortune he made peddling cocaine and murdering rival dealers to the community he harmed." Olivia shook her head, "He didn't even try to pretend. He just ordered his men to attack, and attacked me himself."
"And while we're at it, why did you confront him when he had twenty-two goons with him?" Tara countered. Then she grimaced. "Yeah, you gave him a chance, but for a man like Taralo, what kind of choice is that? You could have crippled him and left him with his drug stash, like you did with Byrne." Corrupt as the city could be, there were limits - Byrne might have been paid up with various people, but caught red-handed like he was, his trial was slowly gearing up but the inevitable conclusion was clear. One of her old buddies from Basic had told her he was already trying to make a plea bargain.
Fortunately, no one was taking it, since he didn't have anything to offer about the vigilante who had taken him down.
"It was still a choice." Olivia countered flatly, setting her bow back in its place. "I can't give people the choice to do the right thing or else, and then not follow through." Well, then maybe you don't need to do it like that. But what else was there? Olivia had made it clear that for her, the mission was as much about recompense to the victims as it was about anyone ending up in jail.
People like Hunt and Byrne deserved to be prison, but just throwing corrupt one percenters and human traffickers into prison didn't really do much for everyone they'd hurt. Not the way laws worked now, anyway. It was too easy for criminals to hold on to their ill-gotten gains.
Tara had seen that happen firsthand.
Besides, when I was attacked - in groups, not all twenty-two at once - it became life or death."
"And if it wasn't life or death, you'd have still killed him." Tara countered. "You spared Hunt, you spared Byrne, and neither of them took the chance to stand down."
"Because sparing them got justice for their victims. I only kill when I have to. But Taralo doesn't keep his money in a convenient account I can steal from, and I don't know where Taralo stashes his drugs to leave him strung up there for the cops." Olivia looked at her directly, hands resting on the table behind her. "You're not having second thoughts."
It wasn't a question
"No. With as fucked up as the courts in this city can be, with how long Taralo's lawyers have kept that son of a bitch out of prison for everything he's pulled, I get why you didn't just leave him for the cops, without something that just couldnt be ignored. It's not Taralo that's the issue, it's..." Tara trailed off a moment.
"When the Army tried to keep quiet about my squadmates taking bribes from drug smugglers, when the Marine Corps tried to quietly deal with those bastards, and I got drummed out for going over their heads... I get why you're doing this. Why going outside the law is important. And sometimes, in a fight, or with someone who refuses to do the right thing, violence, even killing is the only option. But I saw what letting killing become easy does to people. Once you start thinking you're above the law, that you get to decide who lives or who dies... that takes a toll on someone. And I didn't sign up to watch history repeat itself."
"I've only killed because I've had to." Olivia countered, flatly. "And I'm not going to start taking money-"
"Wasn't saying you were, Olivia." But her squadmates would have said the same thing, once. "You haven't crossed a line yet. Maybe you never will. I hope so. But the only way to make sure you don't cross that line, that you don't betray the city like the people you're going after, is to be careful about where that line sits. To make sure you keep that line visible, all the time. You say this is about saving the city, and helping the people hurt by these bastards - Hunt, Byrne, Taralo, whoever's next - and as long as it's people everyone knows is guilty, who you can prove are guilty... and as long as you remember what happens if you make it too easy."
"Things aren't always so clear, and neither are lines. But I don't kill because it's easy. And I don't claim to be judge, jury and executioner. I act outside the law, not above it." Olivia explained, voice hard, sharp to an edge. "Judge, yes. Executioner, if I have to be. But I don't go after someone unless their guilt has already been determined, and is already clear. That's the line."
A fine and subtle distinction if there ever was one.
"A conversation we'll have to return to someday, I'm sure." Tara could see what Olivia was saying, but... she wasn't sure Olivia got what she was saying. She'd barely gotten to know the Olivia that she was hiding from her friends and family, but what she saw was a profoundly angry woman.
So far, she was channeling that anger productively. So far.
Tara turned in her chair and brought up the front page of a local tabloid gossip site. "On an entirely unrelated note, what do you make of this?" She gestured to the front page - a photo of Olivia walking away from her 'resurrection hearing' two weeks ago, a bit Tara cut off in the foreground, where she had been trying to keep the paparazzi back from swarming Olivia.
"Where is Olivia Queen?!" She read off the screen. "I get why you don't want to just go back to your old ways and use that as cover. And the fact that everyone thinks the Hood is a guy is providing you some insulation. But... you really do need to find something for Olivia to be doing. Or people will start asking questions."
Olivia made a face, as if she wanted to snarl, though the words came out much more calmly: "Of all the websites to use to bring this up, you had to use that one?" She shook her head before Tara could ask what she meant by that. "I've got a plan for that. Just need to get a few things figured out."
"Oh?" Tara raised an eyebrow.
I Can Help - So I Should
Olivia took a breath as she stepped out of the car and walked into the precinct. She hadn't really seen Loren much since her welcome home dinner. He did have a busy job, and Olivia had had a lot to do to get used to being back, being in Starling, and that wasn't even including her night job.
But still. Three weeks was a long time to not really be in contact with a friend and -
I don't want him to think I'm... I'm avoiding him because of McKenna. Because that wasn't it. It hurt, to know she couldn't have Loren back, but it was for the best, and she'd meant it when she told Loren that she didn't want to lose their friendship. That had come first, and was far more important.
She told the person at the front desk she wanted to speak to Detective Loren Lance - and mentally crossed her fingers that Quentin didn't see her. He had every right to hate her, but if it happened again and her mother found out, she'd probably try to have punished. After what she'd done, after how she'd failed to save Sara -
She didn't want to be responsible for things getting worse for any Lance.
Olivia banished the thought from her mind, and then heard Loren's voice.
"Olivia!" Loren sounded happy to see her, which felt good to hear... and sent a spike through Olivia's chest. "I haven't seen you in a while."
I just need to wait long enough for this to... to scar over. Everything did, sooner or later.
"I- I've been having some trouble getting used to being back." Which was true. She'd thought her time in Hong Kong and Moscow would have reacclimated her to being in civilization after her two years on Lian Yu, and that was true, sort of, but she hadn't realized how hard having her family around, and the little things about Starling specifically, what was familiar, and different and - "I should have called, at least, sooner-"
"I - I was worried you were avoiding me." He added, a little quieter.
"No, no," Olivia said quickly, not wanting Loren to blame himself. Or to think - to think the wrong thing. "Not at all. I actually came to see if you had time for lunch?" Olivia added. "So we can catch up about... everything, and- unless you're busy?"
"Today, thankfully not. I'm all sorted on my paperwork and right now I'm waiting for a warrant to process, so I don't have anything to do. Why don't we go to Rosie's Diner?"
"That's still in business? Rosie had to be ninety years old last time we were there?!" Olivia could hardly believe it would still be open.
"Ninety-two actually. She's ninety-seven now, and still kicking. Though it's mostly her granddaughter that runs the place now." Loren said, heading for the door. Olivia walked alongside him as they reached the street. She gestured to Tara in the driver's seat of the car towards the end of the block. "But Rosie still bakes her apple pie every day, fresh."
"With home-made whipped cream and the strawberry on top?" Olivia asked, smiling a little. And finding that it didn't feel entirely like an act. I... I really did miss the apple pie at Rosie's, she realized. Back when they'd been teenagers, she and Loren and Tommy had had lunch or dinner there at least once a week, since it was so close to the place where Loren's dad worked, back when Detective Lance had liked her, liked Tommy.
During the days when he'd regarded Olivia and Tommy as spoiled rich kids, yes, but ones that just needed a little guidance and structure in their lives, and once that Loren was making better by being friends with.
He didn't quite see you the same way once you and Loren started dating...
Eating there had been... a familiar thing. Safe. The paparazzi had virtually never found her or Tommy there, and while she couldn't count on that still being true...
"Is your bodyguard going to come in with us?" Loren asked, teasing, and Olivia shook her head.
"No, she'll wait in the car. I think I'm safe with you, and I told her I wanted to have a talk, friend to friend. She's actually pretty good about not getting in the way." It helped that she knew exactly what Olivia was doing at nights, to not get in the way. "If I have to have a bodyguard, she's probably the best I could get."
Understatement of the century. What other potential bodyguard would be not keep that she was the Hood secret, but also help?
"I'm glad she's working out for you, and that you're safe. Has anyone-"
Olivia shook her head, "Nothing worse than paparazzi, thankfully." They reached the diner, and sat down in an empty booth seat near the back, placing their orders with the waitress - and Olivia couldn't help it, ordering a slice of the apple pie now.
It was a little awkward, both of them waiting for the other to say something. Loren let out a long sigh.
"Okay, so - it's been a long time since we've had a chance to just sit down and talk and- so... how are you feeling? About being back? Is it... overwhelming?"
"Less than I thought it would be. It's..." Olivia let out a breath. "It's mom, trying to pressure me to start working at the company. And trying to be there for Theo, but - Theo was twelve, last time I knew him. Now he's seventeen and..."
"You don't know how to relate to him." Loren finished and Olivia nodded. She hadn't planned to be so... open, but with Loren, it was always so easy, so...
She'd always been able to be herself with Loren. And it was dangerously easy to do that again. Olivia closed one hand into a fist under the table. She had to watch herself. She couldn't slip. Especially not around Loren. He knew her well enough to know... to know if something was wrong, if she gave him the slightest hint...
"Well, he still loves Harry Potter, he never did get into video games, and he's been on the Balloi Prep fencing team for the last two years." Loren offered, and Olivia blinked.
"Fencing? Like - Princess Bride?" Olivia could see how that made sense though. That had always been one of Theo's favorite movies when he was just a kid.
"Exactly like Princess Bride. It's actually funny - Theo mentioned he was interested in learning so he could try out for the team. Tommy actually went so far as to voluntarily talk to his dad." Loren laughed. Olivia raised an eyebrow, wondering what Mr. Merlyn had to do with it. "Mr. Merlyn does fencing, and Tommy figured one of his fencing partners might be a good instructor for Theo so he could make it onto the team."
"And his dad said yes?"
"His dad said yes. Or at least, gave Theo and your mom the guy's contact information to reach out, and he took the job." Loren explained. He paused a moment, his smile quickly fading, voice getting a little soft.
"Theo never gave up on you being alive, you know. You're all he needs. Just be his big sister, and everything else will fall into place," Loren added quietly. "You don't need to try to be something specific, or force yourself into being some... imagined idea of what kind of role model he needs. Just be you, who you want to be."
I don't - I don't think it's that simple. She couldn't be who she really was around Theo. On the other hand... she could be the person she wanted to be. Being the vigilante archer, the Hood - that was who she was, what she had to be. But...
"That..." Olivia swallowed, and took a sip of her water to stretch the pause while she found her words. "I'm still working on that."
"You were away from civilization for five years. That's understandable."
"It's not that, actually," Olivia explained. "Five years ago, I was... I was just a spoiled little rich kid, content to fritter my life away partying and spending money and - I was wasting my life."
"Olivia-" Loren started, and for a second Olivia could see a younger Loren defending her to his dad, or to any of his other friends, back in the old days. When they called Olivia spoiled, worthless, pathetic, a 'rich bitch who didn't know how good she had it'.
Okay, so Quentin Lance hadn't been anywhere near that bad. Before the Gambit, he'd been mildly disapproving, at best.
"You weren't - you were twenty-two-"
"I dropped out of four colleges, Loren," Olivia pointed out. "Maybe I could have become something better without getting stranded on an Island. I'd like to think so, but... that's not the point, because I did get stranded. And I was forced to come to terms with who I'd been."
Loren looked like he wanted to protest again, defend her from herself, but he opened his mouth and then closed it.
"From the sound of it you want to do something different."
"Very." Olivia nodded, slowly. "I don't want to be the tabloid fodder, or the partygirl princess of the city or anything like that. I swore to myself, early on, that if I ever got home, I wouldn't take what I had for granted." Olivia leaned in a little. "When we were friends, growing up, you were always the one who cared. About the problems in the city, the Glades, poor people in general. Tommy and I - we cared, we agreed it was bad, but... we threw some money into a homeless guy's cup every now and then, wrote a few tiny checks to make ourselves feel better."
Loren grimaced, biting his tongue.
"I know you don't agree, but I've had years to look back, Loren. It was always 'somebody should do something' or 'yeah, those people deserve help; but it was always - it was always in the abstract. I'm tired of that."
"Well, I certainly can't object to more people helping the city," Loren laughed. "To helping people."
"Of course you can't. What is it Tommy always used to say?" Olivia couldn't help but smile ever so slightly. "David Loren Lance, always trying to save the world." Loren's profound goodness, how much he cared, how much he wanted to help - that had always been Olivia's guiding light.
"As much of it as I can. Sometimes feels like an uphill battle." Loren muttered, then, "Sorry. I - this isn't about my woes as a police officer."
How much are the people on the List responsible for that? Olivia wondered. Once she'd finished her father's work, righted his wrongs... Loren would have the chance to do better. Olivia still believed that Loren had what it took to be Police Commissioner one day.
"You can always complain to me, Loren," Olivia offered. Just like Loren had in college, even when she'd not been in college. That Loren felt comfortable enough doing so, with her. It -
It had meant a lot.
"If you're not careful, I'll take you up on that," Loren warned. He chuckled, "So what were you thinking of doing, for the Glades?"
"I - that's where I'm not sure." Olivia admitted. "I want to do something more than just... throw money at the problem, but I don't know what the Glades needs. I'm pretty sure I can talk the company into giving me, or selling me the old Steel Mill. I want to use that space to do... something. Give the Glades what they need."
Loren laughed bitterly. "What don't the Glades need? Charities in the neighborhood have been closing their doors for years now. It's just CNRI and Tommy's mom's free clinic. You could do a lot with that space, make it work for the people of the Gldes, since your dad-" Loren cut himself off, frowning.
"You can say it. My dad closing the steel mill did a lot to make things worse in the Glades." Olivia murmured, and still frowning, Loren nodded.
"A lot of people in the Glades depended on that mill, or on the money it brought into the neighborhood," Loren shook his head. "The people in the Glades - they could use a soup kitchen, a homeless shelter, a community center to keep kids busy after school," Loren ticked them off on her fingers.
A homeless shelter or a women's shelter were things Olivia had considered and rejected as unsafe. Too many people she wouldn't be able to account for. And if any one she went after was able to track her down to her hideout underneath... she wouldn't risk that.
"They need job assistance programs - the people in the Glades want to work, but there's just not enough jobs, and getting out of the Glades -" Loren scoffed, "Did you know there used to be a subway system in Starling?"
"...what?" Olivia blinked. How - what?
"Yeah. Damndest thing. I learned about it first year as a Detective. They shut it down before either of us were born, but it used to be the way people in the Glades got to jobs outside the neighborhood. Now it's by car, or by bus. Not enough people there own cars, and as for the bus - there's never enough routes, and they seem to jack up the price every other year." Loren was starting to rant, but Olivia didn't stop him. "And then there's the fact that there are state programs for helping to afford the cost of public transit, but navigating those websites and all the rules isn't always easy for people who don't have English as a native language, or secure internet access, or credit cards, or state IDs... there's a lot of programs out there. CNRI tries to help people get access to assistance, learn the rules about food stamps... I know a lot of cops don't like them since they'll defend people we arrest and be better about it than the even more overworked public defenders, but everyone working at CNRI is doing good work." He shook his head.
"I support you wanting to do more than right a check, but giving CNRI a donation, the kind only a Queen could give could do a lot too." Loren added.
It sounded like the Glades needed a little bit of everything.
"Is there a way I could... provide a way to help people access those programs?" Olivia asked. If there was assistance out there to be had, then-
"God yes. That's what a lot of charities that have been shuttered used to do. Health insurance navigators for the Affordable Care Act, people to help navigate loan assistance programs, educational grants - But when there's no money to pay their wages... sure, some volunteer how and when they can, but even charity workers need to eat." Loren grimaced.
"Then that's what I should do. Do you think this... CNRI could give me a list of people who could help?" Olivia considered any group Loren praised so highly to be a good starting point. If they set up some sort of... resource center? Putting all this assistance under one roof - it would be a way to help, and provide a cover for why she was at the Steel Mill all the time. "I don't know anything about these programs." though she'd be happy to learn, "but - I can certainly pay the wages of the people who do."
"CNRI might. I can certainly put a word in a few people I know there that you're the real deal." Loren reached out and put his hand atop hers - the one resting on the table, rather than the closed fist under the desk, where Olivia was still trying to hold herself under control. Keep from letting masks slip too much.
Even with Loren.
"You didn't need to go through whatever you went through those five years to become a good person, Olivia." Loren murmured, pulling his hand back after a long moment. "But this? This is you being what I always knew you could be."
Why Shouldn't I Arrest You?
Loren did actually enjoy, on a certain level, the complexity, the mystery of trying to solve a hard case. It felt... macabre to admit it, and Loren would be happy missing out on that challenge if it meant people didn't die.
On the other hand, on days when nothing else was keeping him at the precinct - he was caught up on all his paperwork, wasn't stuck on a late shift, et cetera - and nothing was keeping McKenna late, a day when he had a case that was as simple as 'jack shot jill over bill', as it were, had it's advantages too. McKenna would be a little later, wrapping up a warrant filing, but then they had several hours free this evening,
As he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building, Loren noticed one of the lights in the lot was out. He made a note to send a message to the Building Super - he probably noticed, but better safe than sorry - and got out of the car, back facing the out light.
And then immediately, grabbed at his gun and pulled it out, spinning. It wasn't a sound that made him turn. It wasn't a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was just that honed sense you picked up, that something was wrong, that someone was -
And he was right, because standing there, in the shadows under the out light, was a short man - shorter than Laurel expected, really - in a green hood, green outfit, a bow in hand.
And the arrows are green too. Why the dedication to one color? It had to be a Robin Hood thing, right? He imagined himself as a modern day version of that fictional character. No one had actually said it to any cop, not even him, but a lot of Adam Hunt's embezzlement victims, after the hooded vigilante did his theft, had suddenly been able to pay off debts, stave off eviction or repossession...
And that bow had an arrow strung, pointed at him. Loren kept his gun leveled at the vigilante.
Robin Hood or not. Helping Hunt's victims, or even Byrne's victims wasn't enough to change that he was a murderer. Multiple people were killed - the latest, the cocaine dealer Jimmy Taralo was dead. And Christine Alpert might not have been killed, but several of her guards were hospitalized. Though Loren couldn't really mourn that Alpert had been forced to pay back the people hurt - or their families - by the rail accident caused by her siphoning funds from the accounts earmarked for maintenance and safety.
And, well, it was hard to feel positively about someone pointing a deadly weapon at you.
"I'm not here to fight you." The man said, voice distorted by some sort of modulator, the kind the news used for people remaining confidential. "Lower your gun, please."
Please? The world's politest killer, apparently.
"Lower your bow first." Loren made no move to lower his gun, holding it in both hands. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot now, try to take you in." Can I take him on, alone? He's clearly not an idiot, so he must have prepared for the prospect.
To his surprise, the Hood pulled the arrow back, lowering his bow. "You won't hit me if you shoot, and you won't be able to stop me from getting away."
"If you're not here to fight me, what do you want? Are you here to try and... what, get me to give you leverage on my father, since he's the one in charge of the task force trying to catch you? You kill people." Loren growled. And there wasn't even a theoretical sort of accountability, as there was for Officer Involved Shootings. There was nothing stopping the archer from doing whatever he wanted, apart from the SCPD catching him.
"I only kill in self-defense. Hunt, Byrne, Alpert - most of the guards of the people I've gone after, they're alive." The Hood countered.
"Pretty sure James Holder and Carl Rassmussen would disagree." Though Loren had heard the rumors that they weren't killed by the Hood. His dad hadn't been talking about his cases with him lately, but then, they hadn't been talking lately.
"I didn't kill Holder, or Rassmussen." The Hood growled back. With the modulation, it was hard to tell, but his tone sounded defensive. "Neither of them died from arrows. Both were shot by a sniper that Interpol calls Deadshot, because he never misses. He laces his bullets with curare. Poison."
"And I should believe you?" Though it was something he could check pretty easily. "Why are you telling me this?" Despite himself, Loren found himself lowering his gun. If the vigilante was going to attack him, he would have. And there was no way Loren could take him on himself. Not if the Hood had done what he had to have done, and scouted this parking lot ahead of time, prepared for this little talk.
"You can look this all up. As for why I'm telling you - he's planning on targeting the Unidac Industries auction." That name vaguely ran a bell, something - something Loren had seen on the news? "Deadshot was hired by one of the bidders - Warren Patel." He lightly kicked a briefcase into view from behind the dead lamp. "The proof is in here. I can't protect everyone at the auction myself, and stop Deadshot at the same time."
"Why do you care? Everyone bidding is the same kind of rich scumbag you seem to be focusing on." Even Tarallo, if more blue collar in his crime, had been obscenely wealthy, and able to afford the best of scumbag lawyers. The kind that actually were scum - not because they defended a criminal, but because the tactics they used to do it.
"Not everyone who's rich is someone I need to go after," The Hood countered. "And whatever you think of me, Deadshot is a mercenary who kills for money. He's worse."
Loren wasn't entirely sure he agreed with that. Killing for a cause - people do a lot of damage when they thought God or Justice or whatever was on their side. On the other hand... the Hood hadn't done as much damage as he could.
He certainly seems better than a lot of vigilantes we could have gotten. Faint praise, damning and all that but...
This Deadshot might actually be worse.
"I'll make sure your evidence gets to the right people," Loren said, after a long moment. Sometimes, a criminal did have the information you needed to solve a crime. That's why CIs existed. This was... not exactly the same thing, but... it wasn't violating the principle.
"Just make sure any cops at the auction are wearing Kelvar. Even a little curare can be fatal." The vigilante cautioned.
"Why me? There's a lot of cops you could have gone to. I'm not the one handling this case." Though maybe the fact the one who was case lead was his father was the reason?
"The other Detective Lance is. And he would have shot me the moment he saw me," The Hood pointed out. "As for why you - You still care about the people of this city. You see your mission as justice, not just keeping order. There's not enough cops that see things your way."
Loren bit his tongue, biting back a knee-jerk rejection of the Hood's words, but...
One of the people he'd partnered with, fresh out of the academy, had done a tour in Iraq before becoming a cop. He'd said that the way some of the other veteran cops, who had had a decade or more on the force had talked about the city the way he and his fellows had sometimes talked about the places they were stationed in Iraq.
Talking about Starling like they were an occupying Army. It hadn't sat right with his first partner, and had caused to rethink his service, both in Iraq, and before, and made him change how he did his job as a cop. That partner had later taken a job as a lieutenant in another city, but his words had always sat with Loren.
Some cops really do see themselves as an occupying army. That whole thin blue line stuff. Loren agreed with some of it. He wouldn't have been a cop if he didn't.
And yet.
"The fact that I care about justice doesn't change the fact that if I see you again, I will be taking you down," Loren promised. "This doesn't make us friends."
"You're too good of a cop to think otherwise." The Hood agreed. Quickly, the vigilante turned, and Loren kept his gun to the ground as the arched vanished into the night.
Dad would have shot him in the back. But Loren couldn't bring himself to do that. Not this time.
Loren approached the briefcase, examining it carefully before opening it. He didn't think it was a bomb, but...
Inside was a laptop, damaged by bullet fire. An external hard-drive, and several printed pieces of paper, which turned out to be what looked like a summarized Interpol dossier on a sniper codenamed Deadshot. Could be a forgery, but...
I have to call dad. Loren grimaced. And this might just kill his entire evening with McKenna if he had to go in and talk to the Captain, or IA about this.
But he had to do the right thing here. Which meant actually talking to his dad again.
Pulling out his cell phone, Loren dialed him, waiting for him to pick up.
"Loren?" His dad sounded confused, and maybe a little hopeful, "You're - I - look, about what I said about Olivia and - " He sounded like maybe he was about to apologize, but Loren cut him off.
"I'm calling for work reasons, Dad." Loren wanted to believe that his dad was genuine with the apology he was probably about to give, but... I can't tell him the Hood brought the evidence. "You're still the case lead on the sniper that shot Holder and Rassmussen, right?" Plus, if he said that it was the Hood, IA really would eat up his entire evening, and for what? Loren had nothing to tell them, and he'd done nothing wrong.
That's just a rationalization and you know it. A part of Loren accused, but even if it was, it was still true.
"...yeah." His dad growled roughly. "What of it?"
"I just had someone hand over some evidence that they claim proves that Warren Patel hired the sniper, and that said sniper is going to be targeting some sort of auction?"
"...Warren Patel is one of the other bidders, and the Auction is tomorrow. Holder and Rassmussen were bidders on something called Unidac Industries. Along with Walter Steele and at least a half-dozen other rich assholes in this city. Patel certainly has motive. You trust this evidence?"
"I have no idea. It's on a digital drive, so I haven't had a chance to verify it." Loren admitted, looking at the external harddrive. It looked like a fairly standard model, though the laptop didn't. So it might be possible to trace it. Where did the vigilante get it? "...I think the person who gave it to me was telling the truth."
"Who gave it to you?"
"They didn't give me a name, and I didn't see a face. I wasn't in a position to force the issue." Loren sighed. "Maybe this is bullshit, but it has to be checked."
"You're right. Bring it into the station, and I want to know all the details about this... person."
Loren swallowed. "I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up. Okay, so as long as he gave a good - technically accurate - story to his dad, he would still have most of the evening. Besides, if this evidence was genuine, there was no need to taint it in the SCPD's eyes by associating it with the Hood.
I just need the right story.
Take Any Chance I Can
Resolving that he would shoot his shot for Olivia, once she'd had a chance to get used to being back, and come to terms with Loren was one thing.
Actually knowing when it was actually a good moment to do that was hard. Olivia seemed to be surprisingly okay with things, but some of that had to be an act, or at least a fake it until you make it. On the other hand, if Olivia had considered that Loren might move on, then she at least had prepared for it a little, right? And if nothing else, Olivia clearly wanted to move on.
But Tommy had enough pride that he wanted Olivia to give him a shot because she wanted to give him a shot, not out of some 'I want to move on and so let's date someone else' thing. And he had wanted to avoid pushing too soon, too fast. The first time in his life where he'd waited before making a move. It was... weird.
Olivia wanting a much more sedate, low-key welcome home party had always thrown Tommy for a loop, but he could respect her wanting to be surrounded by loud music and screaming drunk people dancing for hours in a dimly lit club. Not after 5 years on some random island in the North China Sea.
But the fact that she'd basically stayed at home almost all the time since her resurrection hearing, not even once showing up at their usual haunts, was... leaving Tommy with no clear idea of what to do, or how to do it, or...
He could still see the Olivia he knew, his old friend and the woman he hadn't realized he was in love with until it was too late, but she was different.
He had been over to Queen Mansion a few times, had lunch with Olivia once, dinner with the Queen Family a couple times... but still. Olivia seemed to be slow to get used to hings, and Tommy wasn't sure if she needed a gentle push or if she needed more time and -
And so he'd resolved to come and at least see if he could get her to come with her to the club. Maybe not as wild and crazy as they used to get, but have a drink or two, ease into things. Get to spend some time with her alone...
Just start to gauge where she stood. Where he stood. And whatever else, to spend time with a friend doing something they both enjoyed.
He was let into the mansion, and headed up to Olivia's room, knocking on the door. There was a moment's pause, and then Olivia's bodyguard opened the door.
"Tommy?" He heard Olivia say past the woman - Tara Michele, who Tommy did have to admit looked attractive, in a 'fuck with me and I'll break you in half' sort of way - and saw Olivia. "Let him in." Olivia added and Michele stepped aside, and Tommy walked inside.
And then pulled up short as he got a good look at Olivia.
Like she had at her welcome home party, Olivia was wearing a long-sleeved, full length dress. It nearly went down to the floor, but had small slits on the sides, not going up that far, that allowed for mobility without doing much to show off her legs.
But Tommy couldn't really bring himself to be even a little put off by that because the dark red dress looked - Olivia looked -
Amazing. She was wearing makeup, but less than she'd used to, but that too looked perfect on her. Even her shorter hair - which she hadn't let grow out since she came back - looked good on her, styled carefully, though Tommy wasn't sure what the style was called. The dress wasn't particularly tight, but it did hug in just a few places, fitting very nicely.
The dress was elegant, and Olivia had generally not gone in for that (and Tommy had usually not appreciated the look and yet...)
Tommy just couldn't help but stare because Olivia really was gorgeous. How did I miss this before, way back when? There was being young and stupid and being... well, that stupid.
"Tommy?" Olivia raised an eyebrow, and Tommy was jolted out of his staring, hoping he hadn't been too obvious about it.
"Sorry. You - you look really nice, Olivia." Tommy managed, wondering where the hell his usual game was vanishing off too. You look really nice? Jesus Tommy you can do better than that! Then he blinked, "...what's the occasion?" Because if Olivia was dressing like this, she had to be going somewhere, right?
"Walter is bidding on some company that's on auction at one of those fancy parties we used to be able to avoid, and Mom wants me to come show my support for the family and all that." Olivia grimaced.
That Tommy recognized. He was lucky that his dad never asked him to go to those sorts of things.
Well crap.
"You look disappointed." Olivia noted.
"Well, I was hoping to invite you to come out to one of the clubs. A couple have opened in the last five years. Figured we could have a few drinks - keep it casual, if that's all your up for, but, if you're busy-"
"You could come with me?" Olivia offered, quickly. "I know it's the kind of thing we both hate, but it would be easier if I had a friend, for moral support?" She swallowed. "There'll be champagne?"
"Probably even stuff better than that," Tommy considered, smirking and Olivia smiled back.
Okay, so this sounds boring as hell, but it's also - the perfect chance to spend a little time with Olivia. He missed his friend, and he wanted to make sure he didn't - that he didn't move too late, this time. So that meant -
Taking any chance he could get to spend time with her. And you know, moral support for a friend was never a bad thing.
"Will there be hors d'oeuvre?" Tommy asked, grinning. "Sure. I haven't seen enough of my best friend in the last few weeks, so I can't turn down the chance."
"Yeah. I - I'm sorry. Being back - it's a lot to get used to-" Olivia started, and Tommy raised a hand up a bit.
"You don't need to apologize. I get it - or, I mean, it makes sense it's a big adjustment." He offered his arm in a comic, exaggerated gesture, still grinning. It wasn't even a little of an affectation. "Shall we go, then, madam?"
Olivia rolled her eyes but he got a tiny chuckle out of her as she took his arm. "I suppose we shall."