Many Hats to Wear

Chapter 1: Data Recovery Specialist

The first time she visits him, she nearly gives him a heart attack.

It's almost ten on a Friday night, and Oliver Queen is doing exactly what he does every Friday night:  slaving over a computer screen, trying to update his security protocols.  As an employee for Smoak Consolidated, purveyors of some of the best technological advances of the time, there is no shortage of hackers attempting to break in to their systems, and he spends his nights making sure that doesn't happen.  When it does, though, he rewrites the necessary protocols, then sends the unsuccessful hacker an ocean of viruses in which to drown.  It's an odd hobby, sure, but it's one that tests his skills, unlike the job that he's paid not near enough to perform.

Suddenly, his work is interrupted when the overhead lights go off.  If they've flipped a breaker, the gods of electricity are at least kind enough ensure that it's only the lighting—and not the computer systems—that is affected.  Despite that, he's still going to have a hell of a time finding his way out of the building from the basement in the dark.  The dark sort of gives him the willies, but he's trying to convince himself it's just the janitorial staff doing repairs or something.

It isn't working too well, and—understandably—he jumps a foot in the air when he hears a voice say from behind him, "Oliver Queen," in a very threatening voice.

He swivels in the intruder's general direction instantly, just as he realizes the voice is decidedly female.  Still, he's surprised when he sees the Starling City Vigilante, in all her green-hooded glory, standing by the window to his office.  That causes his brain-to-mouth filter to temporarily shut off, and he says to her, "If you're here to tell me I failed the city, I think you've got the wrong guy.  I just work in IT, okay?  I'm actually trying to keep hackers out right now.  If anything, I'd like to think I'm helping.  So please don't put an arrow through me—or whatever else you're here to do."

He's surprised because he's pretty sure he hears her chuckle.  "I'm not here to hurt you," she says, and he notices for the first time that she has laid her bow on the ground at her feet.  She could probably still kill him with her bare hands if she wanted to, but it's comforting to know he won't be impaled on an arrow—that's definitely on his list of worst ways to go.

She steps closer, and he can finally make out a wickedly good figure in that green leather, and he can't help but notice that her full lips are covered with green lipstick.  Typical girl, he thinks.  She has to accessorize even when putting arrows in bad guys and blowing stuff up.  Her boots are knee-high, with thick, four-inch heels that impress him when he realizes she's able to run in those things.

She ignores his bewildered stare and continues, "I hear you're very good at your job, Mr. Queen."

He blinks twice.  No way she could've heard that unless she's intimately familiar with the Smoak Consolidated building.  That alone is enough to send a shiver down his spine.  The Vigilante has to have a day job, too, right?  What if she's that crazy girl in cubicle thirty-four who lives with a ridiculously massive number of cats?  Or the pretty girl in Finance who turned out to be a gun nut and invited him to a neo-Nazi gun rally?  That terrifies him more than the idea of an arrow in his throat.  Seriously, never meet your heroes.

His filter is broken, so he says, "Who told you that?"

Unsurprisingly, she ignores him, extending a large rectangle in his general direction.  After he squints, he recognizes it as a laptop.  "I managed to retrieve this laptop from a target," she continues, "and if you could salvage its contents, I would owe you a favor."

Oliver nearly falls out of his chair.  A favor—from the Vigilante?  This was aiding and abetting he was thinking about doing here—if anyone found out he was even talking to the Vigilante, he would find a SWAT team at his house when he got back.  But, even so, he had to admit that the idea did have its charms.  It would be nice to know that the terror of Starling City wouldn't be coming after him any time soon, unless she needed technical support.  And, he finally admitted to himself, he was sort of a fan—some of those criminals she had stopped had been seriously bad news.