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Felicity is an international cat burglar. Oliver is the cop assigned to catch her.

Cat and Mouse, 1021 words, warnings for violence. Oliver’s life flashes before his eyes, and the love of his life comes to save it. Or something like that. Give me a break, it’s 3:30 in the morning.

The sound of a crowbar smacking across an open palm was a unique one, FBI Agent Oliver Queen thought as he watched the gentleman in the ill-fighting suit take giant, measured steps toward him. It was also one he would be hearing in his nightmares. Provided, he thought as his stomach rolled in sour anticipation of a beat-down, the sound of the crowbar hitting his skull wasn’t the last thing in his life. Digg had pointed out that he was digging too deep into the affairs surrounding Aaron Farrington’s operations.

He’d been right, which was why Oliver was currently standing on the second floor of an abandoned cement factory, watching a man named Li’l Marko approach him with a crowbar while Marko’s friends gathered round, eyeing him with gleeful anticipation. The name Li’l Marko was clearly meant to be irony because the man had six inches on Oliver and he was built like a brick shithouse that all shithouses wanted to grow up to be.

There was no way he was getting out of this one alive.

“Hold it,” Oliver said, holding up a hand. He spoke calmly and authoritatively. It was a trick he’d picked up from a speech by Meryl Streep, and apparently the Queen of Hollywood knew what she was talking about, for Marko slowed to a halt. “One second.”

He peeled out of his suit coat, making sure the badge clipped to his belt was perfectly visible to the onlookers. “It might get messy,” he told Marko. “What? It’s a new jacket.”

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—¿Que tienes ahí, bonita?— preguntó con una voz suave y alegre a la pequeña bebé que se encontraba a su lado, batiendo con curiosidad un libro en el aire con sus diminutas manitas. —¿Te gusta? ¿Quieres que te lo lea, Sophie?— tocó la naricita de la nena y sonrió aún más grande por la ternura e inocencia que derrochaba la criatura a su lado. Charlie ya tenía experiencia cuidando niños, para ayudar a su madre con las cuentas de la casa siempre trabajaba siendo niñera de los hijos de otras profesoras, vecinos, amigos de personas para las que trabaja… podía decir que era algo que le encantaba y más cuando se trataba de bebés como aquella, la pequeña hija de una de las docentes del internado que por una reunión super importante, la dejó a cargo de la cobriza. —Escogiste uno de los buenos, ¿sabes? Las poesías son hermosas…— le susurró a esta como si pudiese entender todo lo que decía, más su dulce acompañante solo seguía ensimismada en descubrir la extrañes del objeto frente a sus ojos.