Don't Miss ↣ Oliver Queen; Arrow

Chapter 2 ↣

"You did what?!" Osiris spurts through his fizzy drink.

I can't help but laugh at him, causing him to frown.

"No one is hurt Siris." I reassure.

"Which, is and isn't good. You didn't get your hit, and you missed your back up, so, are you just going to borrow a different one of my 'pictures'?" He asks curiously.

My eyes drift downwards towards my black coffee. "I shouldn't have hesitated."

"Damn right!" He snaps.

I glance side ways before returning his fire with my own, "Sorry Osiris, but according to Egyptian mythology, your the protector of the deceased, so, if you kill me, your stuck with me for a long time."

"Was that you threatening me?" He questions.

"No, it was me telling you the future." I joke.

He rolls his eyes but can't help but smirk deviously, "I was a bit terrified yet amused when he started choking you."

"Oh and I wasn't?" I scoff swirling my drink around, more interested in moving the liquid around than actually drinking it.

"He seemed scared also when you 'fainted'."

I sigh and pull some cash out of my back pocket, "Undoubtably I'll be gone for a few days, so this is on me."

"What, he's going to kidnap you?" He questions, before reality starts to check in, "Oh great."

"Oh great is right. But is it still considered kidnapping if I'm 23 and I know it's going to happen?" I ponder.

"What, so your giving the vigilante consent to come after you?" Siris asks curiously.

I slide out of the booth and pull my jacket on, "Well now you make it sound sexual. I promise I will not get hurt...badly, nothing that won't look like me falling down the stairs, at most."

"Start doing your math for buildings by the way." He calls after me.

I shake my head and walk out side, and around the corner to an alley, checking to make sure I'm not being followed.

If I weigh 120 lbs, and he weighs approximately 200, that's 80 lbs of basically pure muscle. So, even if I wanted to match him 50/50, that's still a 20% odd of me not winning. The 50/50/20 rule aka the gamblers fallacy.. So instead. I'll go 25/75, a 46.6666666667% chance of me winning. Still higher than 20%.

"Time to gain five pounds." Never thought I would ever have to say that.

Cue training montage.

~~~

I burst into my house, completely doused in sweat. I chuck my bag on to my desk and stomp upstairs into my bathroom, and onto my scale.

"Shit." I hiss. 125.5 lbs. So my odds are now, 25.5/75.5...which is 33.774% SHIT! That's almost 14% less odds of me winning! Ugh.

I run over to my laptop and type into google 'how to loose .5 lbs in 10 hours'.

"Well these look like complete bullshit. Time to jog...again." I throw my laptop onto my bed and I run back down my stairs and out my door, not bothering to lock it because, well, there is a security guard watching me right now, so they'll make sure I don't get hurt.

I start running back down to where the crime scene was going on, and still is going on. That's weird...I thought the vigilante was going to do that...

Then it hits me, he's waiting for ME! That's rich, it really is.

I hit a lamp post with my hand and I turn myself around and jog back.

Wait till Siris hears this, he'll freak out. I mean, he already knows the Hood is after me so, I can't do much about either of them.

But why in the WORLD would he think I would go after him in a hostage crime scene? I'm being paid to kill one man, not save twenty.

I glance at the black car that's parked across the street from my house. So not only does the vigilante have some money backing him, he also has partners.

I run up my porch before jumping back down and running another lap.

So the vigilante isn't watching me personally, he sent one of his, whatever's, to watch me. That means my threat level isn't that high, so something else is, but what could be more life threatening than a mercenary who can hold a estimated two hundred pounds over what I've determined to be a eight story high office building?

Something else is in Starling City, something big. And I want to know what the hell it is.

I hit the lamp post with my hand and I start sprinting back to my house, I need my laptop, no, I need Siris' laptop. I look at my watch, 11:37 pm, he has an interview for Queen Consolidated at 8 am sharp. Damnit, my computer will have to do.

I run into my house and up my stairs, before stopping dead in my tracks, extra foot steps. I turn around and slide down the railing and walk towards my kitchen.

Main thing about larceny is that the rule of thumb is to walk when the residents are walking, but not when they are running. At least that's my rule of thumb.

Second rule of thumb, bring a gun or some sort of weapon that can cause harm, but also not kill.

I duck under a swinging arm and kick the intruders feet out from underneath them. I dive on top of them and hold their neck down while raising my fist up, ready to knock them out.

"Who are you?!" I boom.

"I-I'm Terry! Your neighbor!" About 20ish, skinny and tall, but he has some muscle, so if any sport probably track or swimming. Wearing a dirtied red sweat shirt, and has what looks like a pocket knife in his pocket, hence the term 'pocket knife'. Estimated about 165 lbs. And who the hell names they're kid 'Terry'?

"Why are you in my house?!" I press the terrified college student.

"I saw you running and you left your door unlocked, so I was just making sure you were okay. Please don't kill me.." He whimpers.

I roll my eyes and get off him, "Get out." I point towards the door and he scrambles to his feet before running out.

I glance around making sure everything is in its place. Since when do my neighbors give a shit? Sighing, I start out my kitchen and upstairs only for my foot to step on a miss placed object.

I look down and smile, an arrow.

Clever. I watch as the black car drives away, oh so very clever.