I didn't think I would get this chapter out so soon! But we are close to getting to that moment that inspired all this story; I really can't wait to write it!

To Yasha-Sempai and Isabelnecessaryonabicycle, thank you for following and favoriting! And a special thanks to Khione Eurus, highlander348, and akagami hime chan for the lovely reviews! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

Khione Eurus: Don't worry, I'm totally not abandoning this story! I got it all mapped out from beginning to end for once.

highlander348: Her main power is about to make its debut! As for flying? Well, plotwise she's still not there, sorry. One day though!

akagami hime chan: I know, right? Barry usually runs off when his love interests have something important to say. So I thought, why not have Karen be part of that?

I hope you are all still okay wherever you are and enjoy this chapter. Comments are always welcome!

06 - Cold, Cold Heart

"The time has arrived," said Karen ominously, staring down at her monitor. Crowding behind her were Captain Singh and Detectives West and Thawne. In front of them were the rest of the police station workers, including Kristen. In fact, only Barry Allen was missing, which was actually ironic: he hadn't been part of the birthing of the tradition and by some means, he'd managed to miss all the meetings about Snart.

Then again, it was a miracle to see Barry at all. If she did, he was usually running off to who-knew-where. Certainly not a crime scene, or else David would stop complaining about him at dinner. He had the misguided impression that she could do something about it, which, no. When had Barry ever listened to her? Even when they'd been acquaintances—he the recent hire, she the overlooked secretary—he'd done what he wanted. Crime scene at the seediest bar? He was there in an instant, never mind Director Mendez's order to not step out of the lab unless he'd finished the paperwork of their less relevant cases. Criminal in hiding? Barry would whip out some long-winded speech about the perp's habits and eventually get to the point. Ta-dah! Criminal caught. If David, whose presence alone was intimidating enough, couldn't get him to arrive at his job on time, then that was that. In her opinion, this was more of an HR matter than theirs.

Besides, Barry'd probably run off the opposite direction if she so much as glanced at him. They hadn't had that conversation he'd promised her.

(And who would blame him, considering Karen all but glared like a vengeful fury these days?)

No. No. Time waited for no one. And she wouldn't wait anymore. She cracked her knuckles and placed her fingers on the keyboard.

"Ready!"

Bets were thrown over her head. Karen's fingers flew over the keys, clicking at the speed of light—well. Not that fast, but it was fascinating to see that she did not miss a single name or quantity when everybody finished speaking. Officers left one by one as she confirmed their participation, making tweaks here and there until, at last, all she had to do was write a title.

With a flourish, she keyed: Snart's Next Attack Day.

"That doesn't have a nice ring," said Eddie Thawne, leaning over her shoulder. She considered having a plaque on it saying Officer, rest here.

"If you have a better idea, be my guest."

Humming, he touched the keys with one hand and one finger, exasperatingly slow. Snart Attack.

"That doesn't sound any better."

"It's witty," Eddie argued.

She erased it. Eddie got closer to write it back. Both adults shoved at each other as they struggled to write their own titles. In a minute, it looked like fhhrjfjcjjcjrhgrtxtwyaiowokfnvn lwppqslkkdjfjbfb.

"Um, hi?"

They looked up sharply. A young woman stared down at them hesitantly, her finger on the call bell. She gave off a nerdy vibe with her glasses and ponytail, but her clothes were too bombastic to write her off like that. Or maybe she was a good girl, the kind that said yes, sir to everything.

At their silence, the woman slowly pushed down the button. The bell rang loudly.

"I'm looking for a Barry Allen. Is he in?" She bounced on her heels, eyes flickering to the upper floor.

First came the churning in her stomach. Next was the bitter taste in her throat as she forced herself to calm down. Why did she have to react this violently when it came to Barry Allen? Would she always? And yet, it wasn't just that: her senses were flaring in alarm. Those senses. The ones that had been amplified ever since the particle accelerator. They told her that the girl was too comfortable with her surroundings, that she gazed at strategic exit points unconsciously, that when she'd spoken her eyes had already wandered to the second floor and to the right where the forensics lab was.

Or maybe it was her paranoia acting up. Karen's mind always ran ahead of her when she least expected it. But she also had four years under her belt at C.C.P.D. Maybe she'd unconsciously picked up a cop's instinct?

"Do you have an appointment, Miss?" she asked coldly.

"Smoak. Felicity Smoak. And no, I don't. Do I need one? I didn't think he was that busy, I mean, he wasn't before the lightning struck him—or that's what he said, maybe it's different now? Should I go and make an appointment? Or do I stay, make one, leave and come back later? Do I get to stay if I make it right now?"

"My God, there's two of them," Eddie breathed. Karen elbowed him, startling him into a smile. "I'm sorry, Miss Smoak, Barry's not here, but if you have the time, you can go up and wait for him at his lab?"

Karen stepped on his foot. Eddie winced but held steadfast onto that smile.

She dug harder.

"Great! Thank you very much!" Beaming, Felicity Smoak turned on her heel and left for the stairs.

Karen stared after her suspiciously. Eddie clapped her shoulder insistently.

"Karen, it hurts!" he gasped.

She lifted her heel and watched as he knelt to rub his foot, a whine escaping him. Central City's finest, ladies and gentlemen.

"Why did you tell her she could go up?" she hissed.

"Uh, because she can?"

"No! Access to the public is strictly forbidden!"

"Then why does Iris always go up?"

Karen scowled. "Because your girlfriend does what she wants and the officers baby her! Now go up and bring Ms. Smoak down!"

"Wait a minute—" He straightened. "Are you sure your anger has nothing to do with her looking for Barry?"

Karen tried to soften her scowl. She really did.

Eddie flinched, but he'd worked closely with her for a year. He wasn't completely immune to her sudden bouts of anger but he did his best to stay by her. She didn't know if that was the cop in him pushing him to withstand or just his friendly nature.

What she couldn't understand was how his mouth seemed to have a life of its own, running off without his gut instinct. "She's the second woman he's brought this month."

Karen did not need to be reminded of that. She'd made a spectacle of herself when she met and denied access to one Dr. Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen's personal physician (was that a real thing?); worse, David had witnessed it all and she'd had to endure his narrowed gaze the rest of the day until they got a call telling them that Detective West was in Emergencies.

"Eddie, I don't know where you are going with the next sentence, but if you so much as continue, I won't tell you what Bobby Bigmouth's got to say about your... inquiries." Karen pushed a pile of folders into his arms unceremoniously, an oof! escaping the cop as he held them all... giving up and quickly dropping them on his lap.

"What's this?"

"All the prominent cases of the last nine months. Just like you asked, Detective." She smirked. "After all, you want to find your 'red streak', right?"

The detective set his jaw. His girlfriend had been obsessed with the 'unusual', making a hobby of it by starting a blog and constantly updating it with articles of the strange sightings that had been going on in Central City. She'd also gotten into the habit of sticking her nose into her father's cases, which usually ended with Eddie Thawne turning into an incoherent mess after she kissed the information out of him.

Ah, to be an idiot in love.

"He's not real and I'm going to prove it."

Karen recalled her last conversation with Barry and the subsequent cases where officers declared they'd spotted a 'streak'.

"You go and do that."

000•000

"ID, please," said the man at the counter.

Mattie held back a sigh and handed over her hospital badge. She scanned the reception, finding the glass windows a little impersonal for a museum that boasted to have a thorough account of Central City's and Starling City's history as the neighboring cities grew alongside the other. Indeed, the place looked more like a minimalistic architect's dream rather than an educational establishment.

The recent changes were probably suggested by their biggest benefactor, she mused. He did always favor the mixture of Middle Ages and Contemporary styles.

"Why do we always do this, Matt?"

The short, graying man, dressed very much like a history professor, smiled professionally. "Because it's my job, ma'am." He wrote her name on the desk computer into the Visitors' Log and pushed the fingerprint scanner across the counter. "Your fingerprint, please."

"Right, right." She pressed her thumb, the device's red light flickering to green. A picture with her personal information popped up on the computer monitor.

"He's on the second floor, Dr. Harcourt. But he has requested that you wait for the tour... ?"

Mattie had wandered a few steps toward the escalator when he pronounced that last bit of information. She turned on him, her laser-like stare making the manager flinch.

"What tour?"

The man she was to meet was her mentor. As a man of many words, his knowledge allowed him certain prestige and the opportunity to play several roles. He was like a chameleon—always changing colors. She always found him with acquaintances that ranged from military men to the media; Mattie suspected it had to do with the flamboyant streak he possessed. It, too, reminded her of the power he held over Karen; of the fact that one day he could decide she was the enemy. And by association, so she would be.

When that day came, Mattie would have to come clean with Karen about many things. About how her studies had been sponsored by the man she hated the most; about how she'd chosen to trust in the devil himself just so that she could have an advantage over the scientist; and, god forbid, that everything she'd hidden from Karen was because she dreaded the day her friend would be greatly injured.

Mathilda Harcourt's future had become uncertain upon her parents' death. She was an orphaned thirteen-year-old girl with an eight-year-old brother in tow. Worse, she was a black girl with a disabled brother. She'd been conscious that, while their life in Midvale Orphanage was kind, the world outside wouldn't be.

And then she met Karen.

She hadn't been Karen Starr back then. No, that name wouldn't come up until many years later. Rather, Paul brought to her a crazy scrawny girl who'd dared to jump between him and the drunk driver who nearly mauled him over en route to their warehouse. How could have Mattie known the girl would shape her life—that she'd willingly do so for such a stranger? Even now, she couldn't recall what convinced her to take Karen's hand in that dingy alleyway.

That is not to say Karen dominated her. Mattie had become a doctor because she wanted to help people like her brother. She'd studied medicine at Metropolis rather than Gotham, knowing Met U had one of the best curricula in the country.

And it had been Mattie's choice to learn from the man who kickstarted the Karen she knew. Keep your enemies closer and all that shit.

It was seven o'clock when the second-to-last tour of the day finally took place. Because it was close to closing hours, there were few people in line, most of them businessmen and women in their daywork suits. There was a small family of three and a man dressed comfortably like Mattie, but she alone stood out with her running shoes and short lab coat.

Their guide, a perky woman with glasses and a blue vest, did a roll call before they started. Deep into the tour, Mattie wondered if her history classes had been as torturous as the woman's upbeat rambling; if so, then she deserved a well-deserved pat. She couldn't imagine any kid, let alone an adult, being interested in a man who called himself 'Bovine'.

It wasn't until they reached the Middle East wing that she finally understood why her mentor had chosen this place for their meeting. Indeed, she was greatly shocked when the guide, vibrating with excitement, said, "And now, for the exhibit I'm sure you've all come here to see—the historic Kahndaq Dynasty diamond!"

People ooohed and aahed at the diamond inside the pyramid glass box. Its beauty was otherwordly, its color everchanging. Visitors moved from side to side just to count the colors it could change to, all in the blue scale, but Mattie was frozen in her spot.

"Be careful! Get too close and you'll set off the proximity alarms."

"Wouldn't want to do that," said the man to her right, startling her out of her stupor.

The other visitors chuckled. She was too frightened to even make a sound.

"Nowadays, Kahndaq is but a small country in the Sinai Peninsula, a landbridge between Africa and Asia. In the times of old, however, it was a thriving society—more than a match against Ancient Egypt. Unfortunately, they were also plagued by the meteor showers that nearly destroyed the New Kingdom. Legend says that this diamond is one of the many tears of the gods in response to the death of Ramesses II's firstborn son, Prince Khufu, whose existence is still argued by historians all over the world. The tear traveled from king to king until it finally came to the hands of Kahndaq's monarch, Teth-Adam.

"Now, Teth-Adam was a great leader. But it is said that once this diamond fell into his hands, his mind began to deteriorate. And as he succumbed to madness, his kingdom came to ruin... until this diamond was taken from his clutches. There are many other legends of similar nature, which you can find in our exhibition curator's latest book, The History of Ancient Kingdoms: Legends of the Gods, which is being sold in our beloved gift shop."

The tour guide beamed. She walked on to the next exhibit, the group following close behind... except for Mattie and a man.

"Exquisite, isn't?"

She shook her head. "Excuse me?"

"The diamond." He rolled his head to gesture at the glass box, icy eyes fixed on her. "So much history in such a frivolous rock. The blood that must have been shed, all for a brief moment of bliss. It makes one feel a little... ashamed of our human nature."

Mattie looked back at it, lips pursued. He got that right. In a nutshell.

"It's not even a diamond," she huffed.

"Ah, but its monetary worth states otherwise."

"In this case, I'd say you are right on track about humans' foolishness." She smirked. "That's where a diamond in the rough comes from, after all."

"Indeed. Perhaps this was the very stone that started it all," her companion said graciously. "If you'll excuse me." With a smirk of his own, he inclined his head at her and left her to her thoughts.

She waited until she was alone but for the guards watching from every corner. One raised his radio to his lips; at the same time, she heard the unmistakable sound of shoes on the carpet and smelled cologne.

"I'm not gonna buy your book," she said to the man, carefully analyzing his reflection on the glass box.

Another thing she envied him for: his inability to age. Oh, he was not special, but he was part of that percentage of the population whose looks didn't usually match their ages. In his fifties (or sixties), he looked like he was somewhere in his forties, dark curls carefully primed and his body basically a temple he took care of. He was every bit the smooth billionaire the media made him out to be... at least years ago. Her mentor ensured not to be a name spoken of these days.

She watched him chuckle. His dark eyes were fixed on her.

"My dearest Mathilda, I wouldn't expect any less. But tell me: what do you think of my recent acquisition?"

"I think you're a cheat. And a liar. The stone does not come from Kahndaq."

"Ah, you wound me." He clutched his chest mockingly. "Alas, you're wrong, in a sense. This sample was found in the ruins of a temple inside a coffin marked in Coptic language. As for not disclosing its true origin to the public, I suspected it might be a serious breach of our deal. Not to mention the irreparable damage it would cause our working relationship. Speaking of, how is Karen? Still unaware of your scheming?"

Mattie rolled her eyes. "Wasn't it you who put that condition?"

"It was rather obvious our unusual friend would be none too happy about this. I was merely reminding you of the fact." As if she could forget.

Inevitably, the azure glow caught her eye once more.

"Is this really what I think it is?" she muttered.

The scientist came close, standing over her shoulder and leaning down to murmur in her ear. "Yes. It is, my dear. Perhaps not it, but the stone's source is the very same as the one that saved your friend fourteen years ago."

"Meteor rock," she breathed. The acknowledgment forced her to step back—right into the man's chest.

Mattie was aware of this particular brand of meteor rock's existence. It had been covered at Midvale High by a boring teacher, a woman who droned on and on about the meteor shower that almost destroyed Smallville, a town at the edge of Kansas and mystifyingly close to Midvale, her hometown. She knew, like every classmate of hers did, that many organizations had come knocking on the town's door, wanting to get a glimpse of the mysterious green stones that the government had decreed to be a danger to society.

What no one else knew was that green was not the only color to exist. There was red, gold, white, and the same shade of blue that had haunted Karen Starr for years. The very same blue as the strange liquid her body sweated out in those feverish months after Wells' particle accelerator nearly annihilated the city... and whose samples she'd sent to the man behind her.

It was like dealing with the green meteorite all over again. But this time, she felt the chill of foreboding creeping up her bones.

She'd committed a grave mistake. A big one.

"And if my calculations are correct," said Lex Luthor ominously, "this is the substance that has resided in Karen's skin all this time. And, perhaps, the reason behind young Clark Kent's slow demise."

000•000

She knew she shouldn't have done it. It was a serious, serious violation of the trust she shared with Barry and the S. T. A. R. Labs team, not to mention that she'd broken more laws than she'd had since she'd started working with Oliver, but she couldn't help it. The moment she saw the blonde bombshell at the reception, she knew that there was something wrong with her.

It wasn't jealousy. No. Nooo, not at all. She liked Barry, but not to the extent she loved Oliver. Barry was like a soulmate, except for the romantic strings. They had so much in common, they could have had so much fun as a couple, but she didn't see that relationship going anywhere.

But Felicity Smoak loved Barry as a friend. Yeah, she kind of had to sort her priorities. Damn her heart. But, again, they were fellow science nerds! People like them needed to watch the other's backs. And the only thing she was good at was tech. And the only way she could watch his back was through hacking.

Yeah. She wasn't proud that she had to resort to hacking her friends' (were they friends? It seemed so, but Dr. Wells' presence blotted that) awesome satellite (like really, the thing was just as good as Palmer Tech's, only the lesser because of lack of funding), but no one had bothered to call her when Barry finally woke up (even when she'd been checking in with both Cisco and Caitlin, the latter informing her that she was not family, which, rude). And if she'd continued with that trend, also hacking the C.C.P.D.'s servers, no one, absolutely no one, could fault her, not when the station seemed overwhelmed with criminals much worse than Starling City's.

It was a good thing she had a good eye though. Or bad. Maybe it was bad. Because she didn't know what to make of her findings.

Seven months ago, a strange woman had infiltrated S. T. A. R. Labs. Felicity couldn't find anything on her; even her best facial recognition softwares suffered from glitches—and ow, Felicity mourned them like she would a dead dog until she swiftly swore retribution. And she remembered.

The woman had worn nondescript clothes, the ones anyone would wear on the street. She was very much like Oliver in that sense. But there had been something else: a cuff. A silver cuff that looked entirely made of silver and the strange carving of an S inside a diamond shape. She hadn't thought of it much, simply cataloging the data in the depts of her brain—until she spotted it again at the C.C.P.D. Being worn by one Karen Starr.

So on she went. She asked Ray Palmer—her boss who may or may not have been flirting with her after reeling from Oliver's twisted love declaration—for a break and made sure to have at least 3 Km between her and the Arrow Cave before she made contact with anyone. And then she arrived at the C.C.P.D. and saw, to her disbelief, the very same piece of jewelry on the receptionist's wrist.

It took everything—absolutely everything in her because she'd nearly become constipated and asked for the restroom instead (and why were restroom locations so hard to read in architectural schemes?)—to not freak out. Her hand nearly flung over to accuse the blonde and say, "You!" like they did in soap operas. Because, a) what had she been doing at S.T.A.R. Labs, and b) what was her relationship with Barry Allen?

Her name, she would find later—like, way later, when Barry was nearly killed by this master criminal with an ice gun and he'd run off in anger after finding out Cisco had built it for him—was Karen Louise Starr. Born September 22, 1987, in Midvale, NY. She had a high school certificate from a night school and only recently she'd begun her studies in a college and was currently finishing a B.A. in Computer Sciences through Gotham University's online services. One Captain David Singh of the C.C.P.D. was appointed her legal guardian by the Metropolis Courthouse.

Keywords legal guardian. Because Karen, apparently, had her records sealed by child services. Huh.

She didn't know it then. Oh, she would learn that her curiosity almost got her killed (again), but it wouldn't be until much, much later that she would concede that Karen Starr may be right. She shouldn't have stuck her nose where it didn't belong, let alone ruffle the feathers of certain government organizations.

000•000

The man standing before the massive monitor screen was intimidating and for good reason. Corporal Sasha Bordeaux had worked under General Wade Eiling for more than three years while she'd gone through the ranks, ever so watchful of the man whose post she would take one day. But the General was every bit the American soldier, holding his secrets close to his chest until he saw fit to reveal them. All for the sake of the United States, he would say with a grin, infuriating his bosses.

That's the problem, she mused, as she watched the soldiers scramble behind him. They gave him too much power and now they don't know what to do with him. They don't know if they should be scared or in awe of him.

"This is no time for naps, Bordeaux." His lip was curled when he turned to her. She resisted the urge to mimic him. "Did you get the information?"

"The Asset is making her way to Central City, just as you predicted," she relayed, handing him the tablet that marked Bette Sans Souci's slow path from Los Angeles to Central City. Bordeaux couldn't help but pity Sans Souci, but the woman had made her bed long before Sasha had joined Eiling's special team.

"And the other?"

Quietly, without looking away from the monitor, she moved Sans Souci's files and brought forth the ones he'd requested.

"The perp's name is Felicity Meghan Smoak, age 25, MIT graduate. A.R.G.U.S. has a file on her related to the vigilante known as the Arrow—"

"I don't care about some preppy blonde, Corporal," he cut her coldly. "Let me make it easier for you: I know who she is and I know what she looked into. What I want to know is who else has accessed the files in the last fourteen years."

"Officially, nobody, sir. But there have been ghost traces from Metropolis and Gotham City. We suspect they were left by one person"—she grimaced— "with complete access to our country's best servers."

"Or a man with many influential contacts within our government." Eiling handed the tablet back, a curious smile playing on his lips. It confused Sasha, for she knew his temper was as volatile as the bombs Sans Souci was famous for.

"Do you have a suspect in mind, sir?"

"Just the one. Unfortunately, our politicians love him. Keep an eye on Luthor, 24/7. Let's see where he leads us this time."

She saluted. "Yes, sir."

So... what do you think? It was a bit of a filler but a lot happens. A. LOT. Like, I've got three plots happening at once from this! First Karen's, a brief look into Barry's, and now Felicity's! Now, what role do you think she will play in Karen's life? What about Lex Luthor? Yes, THAT Lex Luthor.

Personally, I imagine him like the actor John Shea, who portrayed the character in Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. You're free to imagine your favorite Luthor though! And it seems a little ridiculous, but I didn't expect him to appear at all; like Eobard, he wrote himself into the story. But when it comes to the Superman family, he can't be ignored.