Chapter Text
“Why can’t I just shoot one of your bows?” Thea whined, her hand wrapped around Oliver’s bulky arm. He ignored her puppy eyes as they walked up out of the lair beneath Verdant.
“Way too heavy, you wouldn’t be able to draw them without a lot of training. I’d like to get you something lighter, but…”
“You’re poor,” Thea supplied bluntly. She released his arm with a sigh and sauntered into the light of her empty club. Oliver followed with a frown.
“I won’t have you spend that blood money on a bow that I’m not sure is even right for you,” he began again.
Thea rolled her eyes. “Then what do you suggest we do here? I really doubt Malcolm would complain about me buying a weapon.”
Oliver worked his jaw for a moment. “Thea, I’ll figure something out.”
She spun on her toes to face him, arms swinging out before falling back to her sides. A sly smile lit her face, the kind that made Oliver sweat.
“Luckily, you have such a wonderful sister who figured it out for you already!” she informed him proudly. “Somebody fixed up this old warehouse near the Glades as an archery range. It’s open in the afternoons and they have bows to rent and everything. We can go there.”
Oliver stared at Thea in disbelief. “An archery range, are you serious? There is no better place for my cover to be blown!”
“Come on, Ollie, you don’t have to shoot! Just teach me.” She stepped closer, her eyebrows pulling together over dejected brown eyes. “I wanted to do this with my big brother, but if it’s too risky, maybe Roy should teach me instead…”
Oliver stared, his mouth moving soundlessly. Finally, he slumped, shaking his head in exasperation at his devious sister. She grinned and dropped the morose act.
“We can go after lunch,” she chirped, and Oliver recognized a command when he heard one.
Thea skipped through the doors of the old warehouse, with Oliver lagging behind. The building had been converted into a long shooting range, with ten lanes. Everything was industrial cement and wood. The targets were mismatched, with everything from stuffed burlap bags and foam blocks to mock animals. A group of kids was milling around at the first few lanes, with their targets moved closer to the firing line. A few other archers were scattered along the range. A long table stood near the door, and rows of bows lined the wall behind it.
They idled near the table, which Oliver assumed doubled as a front desk, until a woman in old sneakers, jeans and a blue t-shirt intercepted them. She was about Felicity’s height, but more solidly built, with wild red curls that framed her round face. Age was always troublesome to determine, but Oliver pegged her somewhere between 27 and 30. A smile graced her small mouth as she greeted them.
“Good morning! You guys both shooting today?” Her hazel eyes were friendly and curious. The leather archery glove on her right hand looked completely natural: forgotten, even.
“No, just my sister,” Oliver said. “You have bows to rent, right?”
“Yeah, of course. Follow me and I’ll get you fitted out.” She led them around the table to the long rack of wooden bows, of all sizes. “Have you ever shot before?”
Thea shook her head, her gaze roving the line of weapons. The woman looked Thea over critically before pulling down and stringing a bow.
“Here, try this. I am guessing a twenty pound draw will be best for you to start with.”
Thea didn’t bother to complain that she was stronger than she looked. She took the offered weapon and pulled back on the string awkwardly. The redhead opened her mouth to correct her stance, but Oliver already had his hands on his sister’s shoulders. The employee’s eyes were sharp on Oliver as Thea slowly released the tension on the string. He tried to look casual, but he felt like she was sizing him up. It was a feeling he was used to, but did not often like.
“It’ll work for now.” Thea smiled. “Thanks!”
Her gaze refocused on Thea. “My pleasure! That bow is one of my favorites for beginners. Now, I am obligated to go over the range rules,” her voice, while still pleasant, took on the serious cast of a command long memorized. “No drawing the bow when someone is down range, no dry firing, no pointing arrows at anyone, and wait for my all clear when collecting arrows. Okay?”
“Got it,” Thea nodded.
The woman turned to Oliver. “You sure you don’t want to shoot?”
Oliver shook his head, putting on his winning smile. “I will just coach today, thanks.” He ought to explain his qualifications as an archery instructor, but his cover stories were usually no better than his silence anyway.
She raised her eyebrows slightly, but let it pass. “All right, well if you change your mind, help yourself to a bow; they are sorted by weight. Arrows are already out in the ground quivers. You guys can take lane ten. Unless you want to join my class?” She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the lower lanes
Oliver glanced sideways at Thea. This was his last chance to get out this risky arrangement, but he suddenly found himself hoping she would turn down the offer. Things were finally coming back together between him and Thea, now that the secrets between them were dissipating, like shadows of the past. Archery was something he could share with her.
Thea glanced over at the kids grouped around lane two, one of whom was pretending to pick his nose with a dull practice arrow. Then she looked up at Oliver, a stubborn challenge in her eyes.
“Not today,” she said quickly. “Maybe another time.”
The woman nodded. “Sure! Let me know if you need anything else.” She left them there and went to join her class. Thea giggled at the muted chastisement they saw her give the little boy playing with the arrow.
They took their place at the firing line, and Oliver began to show Thea proper stance. He tried to focus on helping his sister, but he felt eyes on him for the entire hour of practice. Although he could never catch the culprit in action, he knew it was the redhead.
Once Thea got Oliver to admit that going to the range had not been a complete disaster, it was easy for her to convince him to continue her training there. They returned the next day to find the place empty of patrons. Only the redheaded employee was there, bent over a bow at the front table, which was littered with small tools and jars, fletching, bowstrings, and bits of paper. She looked up at the sound of the little bell attached to the door.
“Oh, hello again! Come on in and grab a bow.”
“It’s quite a bit quieter in here today,” Oliver commented, approaching the table. Thea strode straight to the rack of weapons.
“Yeah, you guys found one of the few slow times of the week. Something to do with the school schedule, I guess. Business is usually booming, thanks to the vigilante.” She finished rubbing the wood and set the bow down to wipe her hands on an old, stained towel.
Oliver blinked, trying to maintain his neutral expression. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. Archery is cool again, thanks to him! All the kids want to learn. Are you going to shoot with your sister this time?” She stood.
“Yes, he is!” Thea called over her shoulder, pulling a bow from the rack with a satisfied grin. Oliver rolled his eyes. “I’m Thea, by the way. This is Oliver.”
“Nice to meet you both. I’m Kate.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Oliver said, holding out a hand, which she shook. Her grip was firm and calloused.
“Why don’t you shoot with us?” Thea suggested, sauntering over to the table. She handed the bow to Kate, who demonstrated how to string it. “Since there isn’t anyone here…”
“Nah, you guys go ahead,” Kate smiled, hefting the weapon easily and handing it back. “I have some work to finish. Maybe later, if you’re still interested.”
“Definitely. Ollie, hurry up and pick a bow!”
He rolled his eyes at his sister and slowly walked down the row of bows. Kate watched as he picked up a few and examined them. When he finally decided on a heavy recurve, he though he saw her smile at his choice. Oliver took his place at the firing line beside Thea.
“All right, Speedy. Go for it.”
Thea bit her lip as she drew, sighted, and fired an arrow. It hit the furthest edge of the target. She was a quick learner, more adaptable than Roy had been. Oliver watched as she carefully nocked another bolt.
Kate sat quietly at her table as Thea and Oliver practiced, waxing strings and checking the condition of the rental bows. Just like yesterday, Oliver could feel her eyes on him. Normally, Oliver Queen would be flattered, and consider taking her home. But with a bow in his hand, the Arrow felt like a target.
“Not bad!” Oliver encouraged Thea. “Remember, use your back muscles, and keep your arms straight and level.”
Thea made the adjustments and loosed her final arrow. “Okay, your turn!”
Oliver frowned, eyeing the redhead in his peripheral vision. He nocked an arrow to the string and drew with natural form. It had been a while since he had held anything besides his hybrid compound; the wood felt comfortable against his palm. He shot more slowly than usual and made sure to place the arrows slightly off from the bullseye. After he had shot a round, Kate spoke from her place at the table.
“You don’t have to hold back.”
Oliver turned to see her lounging back in her chair, which was balanced on two legs, with her feet on the table. “What?”
She raised her eyebrows in that skeptical way all women seemed to have mastered. “I can see you’re better than that. So there is no need to try to fool me.”
Oliver forced his muscles to relax “You must be a great archer then.”
She shrugged. “I have had a lot of practice.”
“Why don’t you join us? You did say you would.” Oliver veiled the challenge with a strained smile.
“I’m calling a contest!” Thea declared enthusiastically.
Kate pitched her chair back down onto all four legs, and set her feet on the floor. “Three arrows?”
Oliver nodded. Kate stood and picked up one of the heavier bows from the rack, a style similar to the one Oliver held. She strung it and drew smoothly, once, to warm up.
“Challenger first,” she said as she approached the firing line. Oliver immediately pivoted and rapidly sent three arrows flying into three different targets. Thea whistled.
Kate drew just as fast, systematically slamming her arrows home. Oliver’s eyes widened. Silence followed her brief display.
Thea practically danced down the range to study their shots. She walked back and forth, staring at the six targets. Finally, she stopped pacing and turned back to them with a slow, disbelieving grin spreading across her face.
“Uhm, Sorry Ollie. Kate wins.”
He strode down to check out the shots himself. Thea was right. Two of his arrows were slightly off-center. No one would have noticed, except next to Kate’s shots. Only one of her arrows was skewed.
“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Oliver demanded, not realizing the dangerous reciprocal questions that opened him up to.
Kate shrugged as she retrieved her arrows. “I’ve been shooting most of my life. Military family, so I’ve learned styles from around the world.”
“Is that why you have such a wide selection of bows?” Oliver asked as he pulled the dull and worn arrows from the hearts of his targets.
Kate laughed. “You haven’t seen the best of it yet. I have way more back in my workshop.”
“You collect?”
“No, I’m a bowyer.”
If Oliver did not have precise control of his outward expressions, his jaw would have dropped. Thea did not have the same inhibitions.
“Wait, are you saying you made these?” she blurted.
Kate nodded. “Most of them. I-”
A soft chiming came from the little bell attached to the front door. A family of four walked in, the children grinning and skipping. Kate smiled apologetically at Oliver and Thea.
“Duty calls! Thanks for the competition, Oliver.”
She winked at him before turning to her new customers.
Oliver paced into the basement lair, unconscious of the deep creases in his forehead. “Felicity, there is a new archery range on Randall Street; I need everything you can find on one of the employees. Her name is Kate.”
Felicity had been talking with John; the rest of the team was gone. She spun her chair around to comply with Oliver’s request, and began rapidly tapping her keyboard.
“Oliver, what’s this about?” John asked warily. Oliver caught the big man’s worried look.
“Oh, nothing is wrong,” he reassured him. “She is just one of the best archers I have ever seen, and a bowyer!”
Felicity smirked at Oliver’s awestruck tone. “Getting a bit worried about competition, are we?”
“No, I’m just curious,” Oliver defended himself. He didn’t notice John roll his eyes. Felicity tapped ENTER with a final flourish.
“Her name is Kathryn Rasmussen. Born in Pacific City to a diplomat…lived most of her life outside the country: Russia, Mongolia, Turkey…most recently in Canada. Currently the owner and sole employee of Starling Archery.”
Oliver leaned over her monitor with his hands on the table. “Anything else?”
Felicity rolled her eyes. “Is that doubt I hear? Home schooled; no college degree. She has placed in several international archery competitions. Her bows are sold to people around the world, and she makes a nice profit. Here’s her website.”
“Huh. That’s it?”
“Were you expecting some secret past?” John asked. “Just because she is good with a bow, doesn’t mean she is a threat, Oliver. Normal people can like archery, too.”
Oliver stared incredulously at his two friends. “Neither of you think this could be important to follow up on?”
“Oh, nobody said that,” John grinned openly.
Felicity fought down a giggle. “Yeah, you should definitely keep an eye on her.”
Oliver frowned, narrowing his eyes at their smiles. After a moment, he turned on his heel and left, as quickly as he had come.
Felicity couldn’t contain her laughter any longer.