Arrow Season One: "The Huntress Returns" part one
By the time Oliver reached Naia's apartment, he was angry/guilty all over again. It was bad enough that Mackenzie had wound up being shot, but he wouldn't be able to handle it if something had happened to the medical resident.
His pace quickened when he saw the police cars in front of her building and then the two officers outside her apartment. The door was ajar, so he was able to see her clearly. She was half-clothed, but from where he was, he could see that her blouse was ripped, she had a black eye and a long ugly cut down her face.
He followed the the angry voice of a half-drunken man. It was the words that got his attention. “Oliver! Can you believe she said that! The whore bitch called me Oliver!!”
Detective Lance ordered the officer with him to take the man into custody. "Mr. Queen, you're certainly getting around tonight..."
"Oliver?" Her soft voice interrupted any potentially tense situations that might have arisen otherwise.
She was still shaking, he noticed, as he held her. He kept whispering that she was safe, practically forgetting about his soaked to the skin state. Finally, when she was calm enough, she noticed how wet he was.
“Oliver, you’re getting out of those wet clothes right now. I’ve got some of my brother’s old hand me downs. They should fit."
"Naia..." His hand went to her face, his eyes and voice clearly racked with guilt.
"Change first....then we'll talk." Without thinking about what she was doing, she picked his hand up and kissed the his knuckles. They both felt the resulting warm tingles. Color came to her carmel colored cheek as she gently released his hand.
"Just hang your wet clothes in the bathroom for now. I'll put them to dry later."
As instructed, Oliver went into the guest bedroom and found a Hawaii University sweatshirt and an old pair of sweatpants. When he was changed, he found Naia fumbling with a book of matches, trying to get the fireplace going, but with her sprained wrist and fingers, it was impossible.
Oliver gently took the matches from her.“Let me,” he whispered.
She caught herself admiring the way the ripples of his hardened body were visible through the material of the t-shirt. Oliver had more success than she had,and allowed himself a smile when he caught her looking at him.
Naia carefully settled herself on the floor in front of the fire, feeling rather than seeing Oliver sit beside her. They sat in amiable silence for a few moments, just watching the flames.
His pace quickened when he saw the police cars in front of her building and then the two officers outside her apartment. The door was ajar, so he was able to see her clearly. She was half-clothed, but from where he was, he could see that her blouse was ripped, she had a black eye and a long ugly cut down her face.
He followed the the angry voice of a half-drunken man. It was the words that got his attention. “Oliver! Can you believe she said that! The whore bitch called me Oliver!!”
Detective Lance ordered the officer with him to take the man into custody. "Mr. Queen, you're certainly getting around tonight..."
"Oliver?" Her soft voice interrupted any potentially tense situations that might have arisen otherwise.
She was still shaking, he noticed, as he held her. He kept whispering that she was safe, practically forgetting about his soaked to the skin state. Finally, when she was calm enough, she noticed how wet he was.
“Oliver, you’re getting out of those wet clothes right now. I’ve got some of my brother’s old hand me downs. They should fit."
"Naia..." His hand went to her face, his eyes and voice clearly racked with guilt.
"Change first....then we'll talk." Without thinking about what she was doing, she picked his hand up and kissed the his knuckles. They both felt the resulting warm tingles. Color came to her carmel colored cheek as she gently released his hand.
"Just hang your wet clothes in the bathroom for now. I'll put them to dry later."
As instructed, Oliver went into the guest bedroom and found a Hawaii University sweatshirt and an old pair of sweatpants. When he was changed, he found Naia fumbling with a book of matches, trying to get the fireplace going, but with her sprained wrist and fingers, it was impossible.
Oliver gently took the matches from her.“Let me,” he whispered.
She caught herself admiring the way the ripples of his hardened body were visible through the material of the t-shirt. Oliver had more success than she had,and allowed himself a smile when he caught her looking at him.
Naia carefully settled herself on the floor in front of the fire, feeling rather than seeing Oliver sit beside her. They sat in amiable silence for a few moments, just watching the flames.