Technical Assistance

Chapter 3: Exploratory Server Surgery

Felicity huffs as she turns her frustration on both the uncooperative motherboard and the blonde girl on screen who has yet to realize that the angel statues are after her. (She reminds herself to stop watching this episode, since it always makes her mad.) She wants to scream, but she knows that's just foolish. The next time she sees Oliver Queen, she's going to strangle him, because his computer is just as frustrating as he is. She frowns down at the computer, then realizes she has her hand on one of the components. Thank God it's not live yet, or she'd be getting a nice static charge through her hair right about now. She shifts her hand away to find the part she needs, then starts tinkering with it.

She jumps about a foot in the air, stifling a scream, when she hears her dog barking in her bedroom, at just about the same time as the angel almost attacks a guy on her television set. She reminds herself never to watch the episode at night, but then her dog barks again. Saphira is generally very quiet, so if she's barking, it means that there's an intruder—or something very out of place. She shoves the half-assembled computer onto her coffee table, pauses the show, and picks up the baseball bat she keeps for such an occasion from beside her TV.

She carefully walks into her bedroom, and she does let out a half-muted scream this time as she sees the figure in the window adjoining to the fire escape, but she drops the bat immediately. Saphira, fierce as her namesake, angles herself between Felicity and the intruder, barking in a manner that is pretty intimidating. Her tail is curled over her back tightly, and her mouth is pulled taut as she exposes her teeth to the intruder. Saphira isn't playing around this time, and he's very right to be crouched in the small space, away from the dog.

Felicity puts a hand on the shiba inu's back, and tries to grab her by the collar. Saphira instead forces herself between Felicity and the intruder, and Felicity sighs for not the first time at the dog's tenacious nature. Sure, that's why she wanted her, but the dog can be more stubborn than Felicity herself on occasion, and it's just demeaning to lose an argument to a dog.

"Very protective," the Vigilante observes, his voice modulated by a synthesizer once again. He seems to be more focused on the twenty-pound dog than on Felicity at this point—and for good reason. Saphira is a sweet dog when she wants to be, but she's also fiercely loyal to Felicity. Not to mention, she has the power and stamina of a dog twice her size, so he's right to be wary of her.

"Saphira, that's enough," she commands sharply, and the dog whines, sitting between them still. She looks at the Vigilante. "She's supposed to be protective—that's why I bought her. I've already had one break-in, and I'd like to deter any future thieves. She may be small, but she's pretty scary when she wants to be."

He tilts his head to the side. "You shouldn't be in an apartment so close to the Glades," he says, tone equal parts concern and chiding. "That last break-in should have been a warning to move." His expression is unreadable, but Felicity is tired of overprotective guys hanging over her life. First Oliver Queen, now a psychopathic vigilante. Vaguely, she wonders what she did to invoke such wrath from the higher powers that be.

She crosses her arms defensively, not sure she likes this level of demanding protectiveness he's giving her. "That's rich," she snaps, "a Vigilante giving me life advice. I like my apartment, and I'm not going to let some doped-up teenagers scare me away. Now, why are you here?" Then she realizes she has a more important question: "How do you even know where I live?"

Of course he ignores her question, just as she expects him to. "I need your help," he says simply, but offers no other explanation or apology for scaring the crap out of her. With the dog calmed, he steps into the room slowly. Saphira growls, but she allows him entry anyway.

The idea of him in her bedroom is starting to give her the creeps, so she motions toward the doorway. "Come into the living room, and we'll talk," she says finally, knowing that she'll probably never understand this guy.