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05:35 AM

Grace looked up when a blond man in a three piece suit sat across from her at the table. He had sunglasses covering his eyes, but Grace new they were a deep green. She met his hidden gaze, before rolling her eyes and scanning her book. The man sat patiently, not saying a word as Grace ignored him. The waitress, a girl Grace was sort-of friends with, set a plate of various sweets between them, and a bright red drink in front of Grace. "Would you like something to drink, sir?" Tara asked shyly. "I'm fine, thank you." The man flashed a killer smile as he thanked the girl before she left. Grace was certain Tara would be fanning herself in the kitchen. The man didn't wait for Grace to eat. Instead, he picked up a small square chocolate cake and popped the entire thing - it was only about an inch big - into his mouth. They sat in silence for a few minutes, as Grace finished reading the current chapter. The man had eaten more three small cakes before Grace took one. She took off her headphones, the man took off his sunglasses. They stared at each other.

Grace sighed agitated. "Where the hell were you?" The man pursed his lips, thinking of something to say. Oliver lesson 7: Think before you speak. Grace ate another cake, and motioned with her hand for him to talk. "I was busy." The man said at last. Grace threw the cake she had in her hand at the man's face - he caught it easily, and ate it. "I'm sorry?" He smiled cautiously. Grace groaned, and slammed her hand on the table. "Dammit, Oliver!" She exclaimed loudly. He gave her a stern look and put his finger to his lips. She groaned again, but lowered her voice. "You were on a mission. Again. Without me. Again. Oliver you know I'm ready!" He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the ceiling. Grace continued, "That's why you didn't text me. You were... you were... ugh!" Grace slammed her first on the table, making the plate clatter a few inches. Oliver's snapped his head to stare at her sternly. "Grace Juliette Sanderson." He snapped. "Clearly you are not ready, if you are getting this angry over something so unimportant." He pointed at her as he spoke, as if to enunciate his words. "Keep you head cool." He picked up the last piece of cake and shoved it in Grace's open mouth.

Grace chewed quickly, then took a sip of her cherry soda. "Other sidekicks actually have field training. I'm way behind everyone else in my class. Hell, you pick Mia and Roy over me!" It was true, though Grace was in the top percent in academics, she had actually very little time working out in the real world. Either Oliver didn't go on many missions, or he just never told her when he did - it was mostly the latter, she'd figured out in time.

"Mia and Roy are," he counted on his fingers "a)not full-time high school students, b)don't require my hands-on assistance and d) -the fact you always forget- are not sole heirs to a multi-million dollar company!" Oliver raised his voice near the end of his rant, but quickly smiled at the concerned waitress who was eyeing the table. "You're a business heiress, Grace. You're not meant to be a costumed hero." Oliver said calmly covering Grace's hand on the table.

"Then why am I here, Oliver?" Grace whispered, taking back her hand. She'd been asking herself that same question since the day she walked in the front door of the school. Oliver clasped his hands, and looked Grace in the eyes. "To keep you safe. I never intended for you to become, well, a sidekick." He ran his hand through his hair. "You weren't suppose to enjoy it this much."

"But I do, Oliver." Grace said. "I've never loved something like I love archery and I'm amazing at it - everyone knows it. I can help you!"

"No." Oliver said, putting on his sunglasses, and standing. Oliver pulled out his wallet, and left a $100 bill on the table. "End of discussion." He slowly walked towards the door, but stopped, sighed and turned around. "Grace, listen I- Grace?" Oliver was talking to an empty seat, he looked up and saw the swinging kitchen door. "Dammit."

Grace smiled at the pastry chef as she hurriedly danced around the counters and tables. She picked up a piece of cake and stuffed it in her mouth. Her backpack, which was haphazardly slung over her shoulder, hit a few hanging pots. The head chef yelled at her, but Grace just waved her off, and snuck out the back door. Headphones on.

Quote:

"She's a Killer Queen; Gunpowder, gelatine; Dynamite with a laser beam.
Guaranteed to blow your mind, Anytime..."