Summary: When Barry Allen learned that his crush, billionaire playboy Oliver Queen, and his hero, the Starling Vigilante, were one in the same, it turned his whole world upside down. The accident that made him the impossible also allowed him to get closer to the Arrow than he ever dreamed. But Oliver didn't know how the kid had managed to weasel his way into his heart; until it was too late.
Pairing: Oliver Queen X Barry Allen (aka Flarrow). Mentions of past relationships and crushes will occur, including; Linda, Sandra, Iris, Felicity, Shado, Helena, Isabel, Laurel, Becky, Sara, Nyssa, OC, etc... Aside from that, pairings are canon.
Warnings: Action, Adventure, Alcohol, Amnesia, Angst, Assault (Physical), AU-ish, Bisexuality, Black Comedy, Bullying (Mentioned), Character Deaths (Minor Canon & OC), Child Abuse (Mentioned/Implied), Crime, Dark Themes, Depression (Mentioned), Drama, Drugs, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Homosexuality, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Humor, Language, Lemons, Love, Medical Babble, Mixed Fandoms, Murder, Non-Beta'd, Non-Canon Pairing, Possible OOCness, Psychiatric Talk, Religious Talk, Romance, Science Babble, Self Harm (Implied), Sexual Abuse (Mentioned), Sexual Themes, Slash, Song Lyrics, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts (Implied/Mentioned), Superpowers, Time Travel, Twins, Violence, etc.
Point Of View: 3rd Person POV, past tense, story form, italicized thoughts/flashbacks/dreams. The main focus will either be on Oliver or Barry, depending on the scene. If they're both in the same scene, chances are it'll alternate between the two of them.
A/N & Disclaimer: I decided to write this because I REALLY couldn't help myself. Ever since I first saw Oliver appear in the Flash, I had to find out more about him by watching Arrow, and became a fan of the pairing shortly after that. The storyline will be mainly canonical, but with changes when necessary (or just for fun). It starts off as sort of implied attraction and such, but gets more intense throughout the "retelling" of the episodes. Oh, and not all the scenes will be ripped right from the show(s), promise, I definitely want to write my own interactions between the two. Be warned, while I have seen all of the aired Flash episodes at this point, I'm new to Arrow but am in the middle of season three. I own nothing but my plots! None of the characters are mine, except some minor OCs that may appear. All recognizable characters are not mine. Please note, the futher into this crazy story I get, you'll probably see some characters from other favorite fandoms of mine. If they don't physically appear they'll probably be mentioned at some point and referenced, albeit likely altered from their original stories to make it fit with this, because reasons. The series of characters who may appear or be referenced are: DC Comics, Death Note, and Glee, I own none of the characters from any of these either, and you don't have to be familiar with the things above to understand the story, as I said they will be minor. Also, to those of you who aren't caught with the entire first season of Flash and at least up to the end of the second season of Arrow, this may get a little bit confusing.
The first time Oliver Queen laid eyes on Barry Allen was still crystal clear in his mind, and not just because he made such a... unique first impression, either.
While he didn't have anything close to a perfect memory, the date was forever seared into his brain, because even if he didn't know it at the time, that day would put him on a path that would change his life so utterly and completely, he would never be able to turn back.
And really, he was perfectly fine with that.
Oliver was standing with his team in the Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division, going over the details of the recent break in, in an attempt to figure out who was behind it and what exactly had been stolen.
"This door was made of expanded, reinforced titanium," Diggle announced as he stood up from the spot he had been crouching at to get a better look at the evidence, shoving his hands in his pockets, a slightly troubled look on his face.
"What'd they use to do this?"
Shaking his head slightly as he surveyed the scene, Officer Quentin Lance responded, "Not sure yet, no sign of any explosives. Maybe a crane, maybe a forklift. I'm guessing there were at least three of them, maybe four. And given how quick they got in and out of here, they were fast."
Lance was starting to get on his nerves already, with stating the obvious and half-assed attempts at humor that simply earned him the look, because the last thing he wanted to think about at the moment was anything involving the earthquake, when one of the night janitors approached them, a tablet in hand, "This was what we were able to pull off the security cameras."
He watched the footage silently, but from what little he could see of the man's face before it went fuzzy, it wasn't anyone he knew personally.
"He was the only guy we got on video..." The worker looked at him, his expression almost apologetic, as if he were at fault for this fact, "The rest of the crew must of come in after him."
That was when he heard an unfamiliar voice speak up behind him.
"Actually, it was only one guy."
Oliver turned slightly along with the others, to see a young man approaching them with his own mini computer tablet balanced in one hand. He was rather tall and slender, very fair-skinned, with messy light brunette hair and bright green eyes, dressed in jeans, high tops and a long grey wool coat. He had a messenger bag over his shoulder and was wheeling behind him a silver metal suitcase.
A term that Tommy had coined in reference to some of their peers came to mind, and he could practically hear his deceased best friend call out, "Greetings, prepschool nerd, the Academic Decathalon is thataway!" Although he usually reserved that phrase when it came to the people in their social circle that they made fun of behind their backs.
To be honest, the kid could have been in his early twenties at the oldest, or his mid teens at the youngest, Oliver wasn't sure, he had one of those baby-faces that looked naturally young.
He was about to open his mouth and speak, but the newcomer kept talking.
"Uh, sorry I'm late..." The boy began awkwardly, before hastily adding, "But, a-actually, my train was late. Well, the second one. The first one... I-I did miss, but that was my cab driver's fault," apparently not seeing the baffled looks on the others' faces, he continued, "I've got this great traffic app, and he thought that..." he trailed off, seeming to figure out that they didn't particularly care, "-he was right. But I'm here now, though, so..."
"Great," Lance said, with just a hint of sarcasm in his tone, "Who the hell are you?"
Stole the words right out of his mouth.
Despite the fact that he was most likely an adult, the former playboy couldn't help but make a light jab at the stranger's youthful looks, "And do your parents know that you're here?"
It was just a joke, but he noticed the boy's face fall slightly and felt a bit bad about it - for all he knew the kid was an orphan and he just made an ass out of himself with that comment.
He might have been used to it at this point, though, because he seemed to brush it off fairly quickly, "...Barry Allen." He introduced himself, his gaze flickering between the faces of the group standing there, but seemed to linger on Oliver. There was a nervousness in his eyes, as well as something else... admiration, maybe?
The kid must have known who he was, or at least, part of who he was.
"I'm from the Central City Police Department," at that, Officer Lance's eyebrows shot up, because no way did the boy old look enough to be a cop. Then he added, "I'm with the Crime Scene Investigation Unit." He rummaged through his jacket pocket, eventually pulling out his ID.
Huh, he really was CSI?
Even so, Oliver was still tempted to ask him if it was forged, because this Allen guy certainly didn't seem twenty four.
When he explained why he was there, though, Oliver immediately felt some skepticism, especially when he saw the confused look on Lance's face, because if CCPD was going to send some forensic tech kid across several states to investigate the break in, you would think they'd at least phone and give a heads up to the local department.
Something was off...
Lance had a better question to ask, though, "And you think one guy ripped through this door," he jerked his thumb behind his head, "Like it was tinfoil?" he asked incredulously.
"One very strong guy," Barry corrected him, "Yeah."
Oliver blinked, looking away for a moment as he pondered that.
Could it be...?
Seeing the disbelieving looks he was getting, the CSI glanced down for a moment, fumbling briefly over his words, before speaking, "Uh, it takes about 1,250 foot pounds of torque to break someone's neck," he told them, and despite the fact that forensics was his job, the billionaire couldn't help but wonder just why exactly he knew that.
Barry showed them his tablet, switching the screen's image to one of the security guard, laying lifeless on an autopsy table, with the handprint on his neck very visible, "See the marks on the guard's neck," he pointed at it, "The bruising pattern strongly suggets... the killer used only one hand."
No, that wasn't possible, nobody else knew about the Mirakuru, unless...
But if it was, what would even be the point?
Seeing the distant and vaguely unimpressed look on the celebrity's face, Barry figured that he didn't understand the full gravity of what that meant, "I'm guessing that you don't know how hard it is to break someone's neck."
"Hmm?" Oliver looked up, to see the kid staring at him, and quickly responded, "No, no idea."
If only he knew.
Though he liked to think he had gotten better at lying over the years, the vigilante could practically feel Felicity rolling her eyes at him for that one. Fortunately, the younger man didn't seem to notice.
When the worker, Jason, asked him for a list of the Divison's inventory so they could narrow down the list of what was stolen, Oliver was all for it. He just wanted to find the answer out to this quick so they could deal with it and then put it behind them.
"Actually," he heard the kid, Barry, say, "I think I know what was stolen."
They all turned to him again, and Oliver gave him a look, raising an eyebrow because really? He'd literally just got there, how could he possibly know when even they didn't yet?
"A centrifuge," Barry told them, his cheeks colored slightly at having all eyes on him, apparently not a big fan of being in the spotlight. "An industrial titanium centrifuge, to be more specific." He took a couple of steps back as he spoke, turning as he did so as to head further into the warehouse, "Probably the Kord Enterprises' 2BX 900, maybe the six series. Both have a three column base..." He stopped in front of the rised platform base.
"Here, you can see the three sets of broken bolts where the thief just... just ripped it out of the ground." Barry lifted his arm up in a pulling motion, and even added a sound effect for emphasis.
They all stared down at it, and Oliver lifted his gaze up slightly, eyeing Barry.
Just where in the hell did this kid come from?
"And what exactly is a centrifuge?" Lance questioned, his expression said that he seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Barry opened his mouth to answer, but Felicity beat him to it.
"Essentially? It, uh, it...separates liquids." The blonde tech informed them, "The centripedal acceleration causes denser substances to separate out along the radial direction." She said it so matter of fact, that none of them questioned her on it.
Oliver was used to hearing her science talk by now, even if he didn't always understand it.
The CSI seemed to want to add more, however, this time his focus was on Felicity when he spoke, "Yeah, and lighter objects move to the top due to the centrifugal force applied to its contents."
Felicity tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes seemed to suddenly regard him with more interest than they had before, "What did you say your name was again?"
"Barry," The kid responded instantly, "Allen."
She then smiled at him, "Felicity...Smoak."
He sent a slightly less shy smile back to her, "Felicity." He repeated, "English name, means happiness. Derived from the Latin word felicitas, meaning good luck or fortune, taken from the name of the Ancient Roman goddess, and the Spanish word felicidad meaning happiness too..." he trailed off, crossing his arms, suddenly looking even more awkward than he had been at the stares this got him, "Names are a, um, hobby...of mine."
During the little monologue, Oliver was looking Barry over again, sizing him up.
This time, he seemed to notice, because when he looked at the billionaire again, he quickly changed subjects, "You can see the, uh, cracks, heading towards the door... Footsteps." He reiterated his original statement, "One guy."
Frowning slightly, Oliver crouched down next to the base to get a better look at it.
"Anyway, it's just a theory." He heard the kid saying, "One backed by a lot of evidence."
He seemed pretty convinced, but Officer Lance clearly wasn't buying it, "There has to be another explanation."
"Y-Yeah, I'm sure you're right..." Barry's tone was doubtful.
When Oliver heard Lance not-so-subtly suggesting Felicity let their "friend" know about what was going on, he hid a smirk when she replied that he was probably already on it.
Sometimes these situations were almost too humorous, you couldn't not get a kick out of them.
The secret vigilante was abruptly pulled from his thoughts, which he had gotten lost in while gazing out the window, restlessly, and watching the rain pouring down, when he heard footsteps approaching him.
"Oliver," he turned to face Diggle, "Got the final inventory from Applied Sciences, that CSI kid from Central City was right, the only thing missing is a centrifuge."
He took the papers from his friend to quickly check for himself, and unsurprisingly, the information was as stated.
Nothing else was stolen.
Just then, Felicity walked in, "You have got to see this." She headed over to them with her tablet in hand, "I pulled up CC traffic camera footage from across the street of Applied Sciences. This is three minutes after the alarm went off, check it out."
She proceeded to show them the footage of the intruder walking out with the centrifuge, carrying it on one shoulder.
God damn it.
Before he could say anything, he spotted the kid from earlier hanging around near the doorway, apparently listening in on them. His tone was a bit curt when he addressed him, because he wasn't a big fan of eavesdroppers, "Can we help you, Detective?"
Stepping into the room, Barry corrected him on his assumption, "Oh, uh, CSIs aren't actually detectives."
Diggle watched as he stepped further into the room, crossing his arms over his chest. Hmm, perhaps he thought something was off about the guy as well.
Maybe he should have him look into it...
"We don't even carry guns," he continued, "Just some plastic baggies." He chuckled, and Felicity seemed to find him funny, because she laughed as well at the little joke.
For some reason that ticked him off slightly.
"Uh, where should I set up my equipment?" Barry's question was clearly directed at him, yet he didn't seem to look Oliver in the face. The young billionaire wondered why that was; either he was more upset by that parent comment then he had let on, or maybe his status intimidated him.
It wouldn't be the first time that had happened, he was sort of used to it at this point.
"Oh, I'll show you." Felicity volunteered instantly, and he had to resist the urge to frown at her in disapproval.
"What's going on?"
Barry came closer, "Your assistant said that you prefer to keep the investigation "in house", so I cleared it with my captain to give you a hand..." That irritated him, because he kind of wished people (mainly Felicity) would start consulting him, he wasn't too keen on having a stranger work closely with them.
Trying not to look too annoyed, he took the blonde woman by her elbow and pulled her a distance away, asking her quietly, "What are you doing?"
Gazing back at him, Felicity replied softly, "We need to find this intruder, and he seems to know more about it than any of us." she glanced over her shoulder at the kid, then turned back and leaned in closer to whisper, as though it were some deep, dark secret, "Forensic science isn't exactly my forte, so..."
Right. That was computers.
She looked back over at Barry, and a small smile touched her lips when she noticed him instantly turn his attention away from them, pretending he hadn't been trying to hear what they were saying.
"I say we need him." Felicity told Oliver, "Wouldn't you?"
Oliver agreed, a tight, forced smile on his face as he gave a slight nod, giving his assistant a look behind her back when she happily turned back to the CSI.
She headed over to him cheerily, "I'll show you around!"
As soon as they were gone, Diggle uncrossed his arms and spoke to him as he turned to look back out the window, "Why am I getting the feeling you know more about this than Felicity's new friend?"
He sincerely hoped that wasn't true, because if it was, then it meant the theft would soon be the least of their worries.
Thunder crashed ominously outside.
"Pray I'm wrong."
So, what do you think so far? This was a short beginning chapter from Ollie's POV, but the next one will start off with Barry, and possibly switch between the two. Cramming all of "The Scientist" episode into one chapter would be lots of dialogue if I didn't plan to add my own scenes, which I do, so this one is relatively short.
I hope you'll follow along on my attempt to write a decent Flarrow fic! Leave a review if you have any comments, questions or advice!