Arrow The Cat and the Canary

Chapter Three

The bright fluorescent lights blinded her when she opened her eyes first. She sat up and looked around slightly confused as to where she was. It didn't take long for her to realise she was in the Bunker beneath Oliver's mayoral campaign office. The building had once belonged to Sebastian Blood, with the secret underground basement being used as a base of operations for his work with Slade Wilson. Oliver had upgraded it into a fully functioning home base for Team Arrow. She liked it. There was a comforting feeling she got from the bright white and green lights that adorned the walls and the floor in the centre of the room, where Felicity sat in her chair, typing away at her computer. She was like Mozart, if Mozart was a 21st century hacker, her fingers flying across the keyboard with such nimble elegance. Laurel didn't know how she did it, she wasn't able to log into her laptop without getting the password wrong at least twice. She swung her legs off the medical table she had been unconscious on and stumbled over towards the centre of the bunker. As she walked up the step, she heard the rapid click-clacking come to a stop as felicity spun around to face her.
"Oh hey, you're up! How's your head feeling? Looks like you got a good hit." She asked, the words falling out of her mouth faster than Laurel was able to keep up with in her current state. Instead she just rubbed the part of her head that was throbbing in pain and looked around.
"Where're Ollie and Dig and Thea?" Her voice was a bit hoarse from thirst. She was still trying to remember what had actually happened to her. The last thing she could remember was a shadow moving away from her the waking up in the bunker.
"They're at Oliver's press meeting at City Hall." Felicity replied, checking the time on her phone. A wave of panic rushed through Laurels body.
"No. They can't be. That's not until tomorrow at 4!" she was starting to feel anxious.
"Yeah, its five past four now. Laurel, what's wrong?" Felicity was starting to worry about her. Maybe she had a concussion from the fight.
"I'm meant to be in court in ten minutes!" Laurel yelled as she shot down the steps and over to where she'd left her clothes before heading out on their mission. She threw her Black Canary costume in a pile beside the polycarbonate case it's usually stored in. No time for that now, she thought as she forced her foot into her heels and grabbed her briefcase before sprinting into the elevator and out of the building, leaving Felicity alone in the Bunker.

Nine minutes and several cases of jaywalking, or in her situation, jay-running, later, Laurel burst through the door of the courtroom. Everyone turned in shocked silence to look at her. The Judge sat at the front, giving her a stern look, she knew meant that she was going to have to bring her A game.
"Ms Lance." He said in a deep, booming voice. It sent a tremble through her. "I need not remind you that you are expected to be here before sentencing begins and arrive in an orderly and punctual fashion."
"I know, your Honour." She said in an apologetic voice. "I'm sorry. Traffic was hell." She knew that he didn't believe her but wouldn't pursue it any further. She made her way up through the gallery, everyone's eyes stuck on her, and took her seat beside her client. She gave him a quick glance. He was in shambles. The bags under his eyes had been progressively blackening since the case began. He has lost a lot of weight as well, his suit looking very oversized on his now skeletal frame. He was being charged with first degree murder of his wife. The facts, however, didn't add up. There was hardcore evidence that he wasn't anywhere near the family home at the time of the murder in the form of CCTV from the bar he was in for his best friend's stag party, along with receipts and time-stamped credit card bills from the bar, located on the other side of town and several eye witness accounts of his whereabouts. The only thing he had going against his story was a neighbour who claims she saw him leaving the home with bloody hands and having overheard arguments the couple had had. She knew she had this one in the bag. Court was in session and the jurors walked out of their chambers and into their seats. The foreman; a short, stocky man, bespectacled and holding on to as many strands of hair as he physically could at this stage stood holding a piece of paper, cleared his throat and addressed the judge.
"In the case number 3401, Peterson versus the State, we the jury find the defendant not guilty." A sigh of relief fell from his lips like a ghost's whisper. A wave of joy rushed through Laurel. Of course, she knew that a woman had still died but she had made sure that an innocent mad did not go to prison for something he did not do. That, in her books, was a win. She stood up and gave him a brief hug before gathering up the pieces of paper and case files that had been left on the table for her, slipping them into her briefcase before exiting the courtroom with her client. The walked out through the doors, into the corridor outside where they were met with a barrage of flashing lights and screamed questions from the onslaught of reporters, all eagerly awaiting the result of the sentencing. Laurel reached back, and grabbed James Peterson by the arm, keeping him close behind her. She knew that if one of the reporters caught hold of him, they'd eat him alive. "Mr. Peterson, did you kill your wife?" "James, James! What are you going to do now that you've been acquitted of all charges?" "Who did kill your wife?" They were vicious animals, she thought, raising her hand to keep the flash out of her eyes. She looked back at James, his eyes wide in shock of all the sudden attention, bright lights and tsunami of questions and accusations. It could be jarring. The press could be emotionless monsters, but that was their job, the same way it was her job to pick apart a witness she was cross examining in the courtroom. It was nothing personal, it was just her job, if she didn't do it, someone else would.

By the time they got to the steps of the courthouse, the pain in the side of her head was still lightly throbbing, but nothing a Tylenol wouldn't cure later. As she made her way down the stone steps, she looked to her client with sympathetic eyes. He'd lost the love of her life. She knew how that felt. It had happened to her twice before. Once with Ollie, then again with her now deceased boyfriend, Tommy Merlyn, who had perished in a disaster caused by his own father in an attempt to level the Glades, an area of downtown Starling City to rebuild it and profit. He had dies trying to save her. It broke her heart for the second time. She felt nothing but solace for this man.
"So, what are you going to do with yourself now James? Are you going to go home?" She made sure her voice conveyed her genuine concern for him. She wanted him to know that she had his best interests in mind and wasn't just a suit for hire.
"That house isn't my home anymore. I'm gonna stay with a friend for a couple of days and then get out of town. Too many reminders of Kate here. Might try to make a new life for myself somewhere else. Maybe Central City or Blüdhaven." For the first time since she'd met him, James sounded optimistic. She gave him another hug, her hand rubbing his back, hoping it gave him some sort of comfort.
"Well wherever you end up, I hope you'll be happy."
"Thank you, Ms. Lance." He said, turning and walking down towards the car that waited for him, parked right beside the footsteps. A middle -aged man looked out the window at his friend approaching, then over to Laurel, giving her a grateful smile and a wave. She waved back and turned to walk down the street back to her office.

Sitting at her desk, Laurel leafed through reams and reams of notes and documents, all in relation to an ongoing case she was working on in conjunction with a small, unofficial task force in the Star City Police Department; an attempt to finally put the rest of the Bertinelli family behind bars. They had already succeeded in imprisoning four of their main ringleader, putting a stop to their imports of cocaine and human trafficking as well as weakening their trade on the streets. She was proud of the work they'd done but knew there was still a lot more to be done. And she was determined that she would not rest until their whole operation was stopped permanently. She had begun fighting this war on two fronts. On the nights that she wasn't working late on the case or hunting down Ghosts, she was suiting up as the Black Canary and scaring the life out of the people on the low end of the food chain. The street level dealers and distributers. She was going to stop them all. No matter what.
Her train of thought was disrupted by the hard knock on her wooden door. She let out a small gasp, thinking she had been the only one left in the building. She looked up from the piles of paperwork to see who was there. Her eyes widened as soon as she saw him. His deep, piercing, cerulean eyes stared directly into her soul. His jaw was so sharp it could cut glass, his tight-fitting shirt filled out by his broad shoulders. His bright teeth gleaming in his mouth. He was gorgeous. She was awestruck. Struggling, she managed to get out:
"Oh um... How can I help you?" Her eyes unblinking, her heart pounding. He moved seamlessly towards her, placing a folder on her desk.
"Ms. Lance, these were the files you requested. Mr Moore asked that I bring them to you." His voice was smooth and velvety, like music to her ears.
"Thank you so much." She replied, growing more and more aware of how much she was staring at him, unblinkingly. "And you can call me Laurel by the way." She added. "Are you new here?" Her voice held tones of natural curiosity and a little flirtation.
"Yeah, I'm fresh out of college. Today is my first day. I just moved here from Metropolis." He seemed so full of life.
"Wow, that's a lot of change. How are you finding it here in Star City?"
"It's great. I mean, living in a city of vigilantes is certainly interesting. But yeah, I like it. Just need to find my way around the city a bit more. It's all so new." His voice was full of wonder and enthusiasm; not yet crushed by the hardship of working in law or living in a city like this. She got an idea then. An opportunity she felt like would be a foolish mistake to not take.
"Well maybe I could show you around some time? Maybe we could get a drink or take a walk around the city, if you'd like?" She kept her eyes locked with his, trying to figure out what he was thinking. A smile crept across his face as his eyes lit up.
"Yeah, I'd like that. How does tomorrow after work sound?" He asked, giving her a cheeky smile.
"Tomorrow sounds perfect. I'll see you then." She couldn't help but grin as he walked out of her office. She looked back down at the papers in front of her, then heard footsteps back tracking to the door of her office. He peered around the doorframe.
"I'm Luke, by the way. Luke Dumas."