Thoughts of a Conspiracy Theorist

The Answer to the Question

I'd been across the hall from her for months. I kept tabs on her at first, as I do for all the other members of the League. There are so many clues they all miss. But now, now she was here, leaning on the door of my room. I'd heard about her failing J'onn's test already. Frankly, I'd be surprised if no one else knew. But people are loath to listen when they don't have skin in the game.

I have skin in every game.

I turn when she shoots one of my boards. I heard the door open, but some people love to feel in control of a situation and Huntress is one of those types. She wants my help, sure, but what she wants more is an ounce of control left to hold since more and more slips through her fingers. Mandragora was moved to a safe house 3 hours ago, and he should be there until the freighter arrives at 4 am. That gives us 5 hours. Plenty to spend with her.

Denying her my attention isn't the power game I want to play by any means, but for her I do it. She's spiraling and I can't catch her until she's ready to reach out to me. Her control issues run deep. But then again, so do mine.

She tries to tempt me with information about CADMUS. Anyone else in the League who knows her as well as I do would laugh her out of the room. She's a bruiser, up with the likes of Wildcat, Hawk, and Wonder Woman. They don't collect clues to piece together in the safe privacy of their League-assigned quarters. That's just not their schtick. I wasn't planning to be shocked by this, but she calls me Q.

Just Q.

The nickname stage for friends typically occurs after months spent together. Togetherness implies more than looking at her from across the dining area or listening to her fits of rage from behind two sets of closed doors. The nickname stage for couples happens quicker, after a meaningful date or shared event. After being kicked from the league and requesting my services, barging into my room certainly counts as a meaningful shared event. I'm glad she agrees.

The League tells me to stall her so Mandragora can give information on his cohorts. I don't have the decency to tell J'onn about Edgar. The authorities trust him to squeal for a lighter sentence. But the only thing that's light about Mandragora is the bank accounts of the businesses he ran dry to build his offshore stash. I near her in the car and hang up. I offer her the driver's seat and find it funny how she immediately buckles in. The car doesn't have tags, but car safety is clearly important. She cracks a joke about wanting her date to have a face. But I wonder how she thinks I see, or talk, without a face. It's just a mask sure, but if I do have a face then I qualify. That's what she means right?

If I ever thought she could have CADMUS intel that assumption flies out the window the moment she stumbles when confronted by Black Canary. The pressure to handle CADMUS far surpasses even Canary's withering stare. As much as letting Huntress take point on this will help her, I see her brain short out when J'onn is brought up. Taking on Green Arrow in a fight wasn't on my to-do list, but I can make a minor exception for her. It kicks her into gear again and I remind myself to thank my sore muscles afterward for obeying me after sitting at my desk for the past 17 hours.

Green Arrow asks me why I'm doing this. And despite craving an answer to everything, I leave him unanswered. I don't tell him about the hours I spent listening to her rant and pace in her room. I don't tell him about the times I knocked on her empty door just to feel like I was trying. I dont tell him about the deep dive I did on her father, and how I know she has his eyes. I don't tell him how I can't wait to find out whose smile she has. I don't tell him about any of the data I have on her or all the questions that are still waiting to be answered as soon as I have the time. Like the burning question of how her boots stay up when she's fighting. I've been meaning to ask that one for weeks.

We run out of the door as soon as I show her the clue. The shipping container key is only one of the hundreds I ordered to keep in each coat pocket. I've used that ruse at least 3 times before, but it still impresses her. Not enough to get a genuine smile, but more than she's ever done before. She finally isn't so tense in the car and I know she won't run when I admit to the disingenuous nature of my help. She doesn't take the opportunity to open up, but I knew she wouldn't. I just needed her to know. Knowing everything about someone when they believe their secrets are hidden is hard on a relationship. So just this once, I tell her what I know. I admit to all the backstory she hid from the League.

Defensive driving is one of the many skills I don't boast of. But it's enough to get us to the freighter. I had planned to distract her until we saw Edgar meet his father. Maybe it would have been enough time to talk her off her plan and let the authorities handle the problem. The world has a Huntress, it doesn't need us to make a Hunter. But Black Canary and Green Arrow have other ideas.

She takes the news well enough. And when I admit my feelings I expect the nonchalance she embodies so well. She wears her disdain for emotions like her tight costume: tight in all the right places, and unreasonably sexy for how impractical it is.

But she surprises me.

And when she tells me to not ask as many questions, I listen. That's the power game I want to play. No longer hunting the Huntress, or pretending she isn't worth my time. I don't need to ask questions with her. She's the answer to all of them.

And a Question needs an Answer.