Weeks passed and I continued to do odd jobs for Oliver. Weirdly odd. Finding out about weird weapons, arrows, Russian mafia bosses. No, that last part was not something I did for him, but I feel like it's coming up really soon. On top of the strangeness that comes with Mr. Queen, this vigilante guy in a green hood has been "terrorizing" the city. Well, if helping the cop's diminishing police force track and capture ruthless criminals is terrorizing then, by god, he's a horror to have in our city.
I tossed my keys on the table by my apartment door and locked it. The temperature was stifling in my small one bedroom with the heat blasting. Light from the street lights and the bright full moon shone through my windows as I made my way over to my couch. I flipped the light switch but the lights didn't turn on.
"Felicity Smoak." a strange voice sounded from my curtains. I whipped around grabbing a heavy book off my coffee table.
The vigilante.
Is in my living room.
"Wha-what do you want? I'm not- i'm not evil! I don't steal or cheat people. I've never stolen anything." I gasped. "Oh my god, I have. I stole my ex-boyfriend's TV. I- It wasn't really on purpose, see he broke mine and-"
"Ms. Smoak, please. I am not here to turn you over to the police." A hint of amusement sounded in his strange voice. I stopped my blabbing. "I need your help. Can you track a phone for me?"
"I, uh, yea. I guess. Do you have the phone number? Well, I mean obviously you do if you asked me to track the phone. I just cant believe you're in my house." I rambled as on I approach my computer desk. Still in my jacket and shoes and wishing desperately that this would be over so i can sleep, I sit in the desk chair and turn on my computer. Within minutes I had hacked into the local cell phone tower receivers.
The vigilante tells me the number. His voice closer than before. I enter the number into the software and it shows me a map of the city. A single blue dot traveling slowly passed streets and just stopping.
"Thank you, Ms. Smoak."
"So, is this going to be a. . ." I turn around but he's gone. "Of course. Why wouldn't this guy just let himself into my apartment, give me no name no anything, and then ask something of me. Then, like everyone else just disappear. Wonderful. Perfect ending to a freaking perfect day." I ranted to the air as I made my way to the shower.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I listened to her vent about her day to herself. Peaking through the curtains once she thought I was gone. Why was I here? I knew exactly where Diggle was, so why did I feel the need to be here. To give her his number to track. I know what she's capable of, her computer skills surpass any of the Russians I've ever encountered. So why am I here? I asked myself again. I watched her toss her jacket and shoes on the couch and make her way to her bedroom. I didn't dare move from this spot, hidden on the ledge of her building. Listening to her yell about how weird she thinks I am, how odd and . . . Did she say gorgeous? I couldn't keep the smile from spreading over my face at that. At least the feeling is mutual.