DISCLAIMER: I don't own a salmon ladder, a crazy amount of tech or a guilt ridden vigilante who makes really poor choices a ridiculous amount of the time. Needless to say, I don't own Arrow or anyone you recognize.

A/N: After watching Arrow's passionate speech to the citizen of the Glades, it occurred to me that now that those people have a taken a stand, willing to defend their district, more than a few of them must feel some sort of protectiveness for their home. Or maybe for those that protect the people. And Oliver seems to amass a collection of folks.

The title comes from the song of the same name from High School Musical (which I also don't own). Despite my penchant of breaking into said song at the drop of a hat, I think I can safely guarantee the lack of musical numbers.

Anyone who's not an idiot knows the sound of the Arrow's Ducati through the Glades. It's a noise Josie is starting to smile at. The man in the green hood is doing good, or at least he's trying to. (Which is more than anyone else around here can say. The cops are useless and all the older people do is complain.) She likes that he's trying to clean up the city, and likes it more when it becomes apparent that he's got a few sidekicks. More people means more help taking out the trash like those assholes and gangbangers that seem to live on every damn corner from her commute between home and the garage. So, yeah, when she hears the bike, she smiles and stays out of the way.

Except anyone who's as good as Josie is with anything mechanic, would frown at the sound she's heard the last two times she's listened to him tear through the district. His bike needs serviced, badly. She wonders if he knows it and is holding off for monetary reasons or if he's just ignorant. A lot of guys are, but she's not sure of the vigilante. It takes a third time to make the decision to try to run down the bike, and two more after that to actually find the damn thing. She'll give him this: dude knows how to hide his bike well, but then, he should...this is the Glades after all.

No one's around when she spots the motorcycle and Josie's extra careful not to be noticed. Dude would probably put an arrow through her if she was the reason his bike got stolen, not to mention whatever else would've probably happened to her by then. Parked behind a convenient dumpster, she's got decent cover to give her most of her attention to the machine. After the obligatory drool moment, she takes frank assessment. Oil, valves, the back tire's a little low and for sure those brake pads need replacing. Josie whistles low to herself and shakes her head at the state. She's kinda disappointed. The Arrow seemed smarter than this. This is Dude-Bro level of negligence.

She's about to pull out her ever ready post-it pad and pencil to make an itemized estimate when a sharp modulated voice stops her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She got the wall at her back and the Arrow's far away enough that she feels relatively safe enough behind the bike, but he's closer than she'd thought she'd have noticed considering how quickly he sneaked up on her. She's grown up knowing to keep at least one eye out on the street.

Falling back on snark, she responds, "'Bout to take note on the list of complaints this baby's makin'." She pats the bike for extra measure, sure it'll piss him off. But damn if he's gonna make her feel bad about giving his motorcycle the actual love it needs. "Seriously, do you take care of this thing at all?"

Of the all the reactions, it surprises her that the man actually seems to pause at that. Josie does too, because she isn't an idiot, but telling off the guy who can arrow her on the spot is a pretty stupid thing to do, but her mouth tends to get the best of her. Must be the Greek in her.

Fortunately, the Arrow doesn't seem to take offense, but offers the lamest excuse ever, instead. "...I've been busy..."

"Yeah, well, you don't get this thing into a shop soon, someone's gonna be busy picking up pieces off the road." She makes some notes and sticks the post-it to the handlebar. "The garage down on Donnlyn, across from Marc's Deli: you know it?"

He nods once. "I do."

Josie offers a small smile. "Bring it there when you aren't busy. It won't be cheap, but I'll only charge half for labor."

"Generous." A joke. She can hear the humor under that weird modulator he's using on his voice. Huh. She'd never peg him for the type.

Lifting an easy shoulder in a half shrug, she returns the sentiment. "Hey, a girl's gotta eat." At his small snort, she drops the facade. "Seriously, the money's actually in the overpriced parts. Labor's not actually that big a deal, except for the fact you basically need three hands to deal with the valves."

He nods.

After a beat, she hedges, "So, I'll see it in the garage, soon? "

He fiddles with his fingers for a minute before stepping closer. Josie automatically takes a step back, which causes them both to freeze before the guy raises both hands. "I'm not going to hurt you," he says, before slowly coming towards her. Josie still holds herself incredibly still as he stops on the other side of his bike. His head is down so the hood completely covers all but the scruff on his chin as he reaches across to pull the sticky note off the handlebar. She doesn't realize she's holding her breath until he speaks. She knows he's supposedly a good guy, but damn. Suddenly she understands why everyone seems to fear him-dude's legitimately intimidating, if not downright scary, even if he's not meaning to be.

"How long would all this take?" he asks, tilting the yellow paper towards her.

She lets out a shaky breath. "Honestly?" she breathes.

He lifts his face enough that she swears she catches a quirk at the side of his mouth. "That would be my preference."

"Prolly a couple a days. Gotta get the parts in first." She nods towards the post-it. "With everything on hand, I can get all that done in a day...but that's just the stuff I know about." What she'd really like to do is take the time to really look it over and see what else needs attention. The Ducati is an early century model, so God only knows when the last time it was serviced. But the Arrow is too close for her to feel safe enough to push her luck.

"Day after tomorrow, it'll be there," he promises. "Can you overnight the parts?"

"I need to see what I'd need to order first, but yeah," she answers. "It's not cheap though. You gonna be able to bankroll it? I know arrowing don't pay."

"It'll be taken care of," he assures Josie.

She frowns but says nothing but "Okay..."

With that the Arrow straddles the bike and Josie takes another step back to get out of the way.

Instead of taking off however, he turns to her. "Hop on."

Completely baffled, she stares at him. "Seriously?"

"A young woman like you shouldn't be out alone at this time of the night in the Glades. I'll take you home."

Josie bristles at that, but is smart enough to know he means well. Still, she isn't gonna let it slide. "I'm getting on, because it's a Ducati and NOT because of that completely sexist comment you just made," she tells him.

He doesn't respond except to tell her to hold on.

She practically skips to work two days later, and grins widely at the promised bike with bag full of cash to pay for the bill and a note thanking her for her help.

She ignores the boys' jealous glares while she works on the bike and takes only what she needs from the bag. She has no doubt the vigilante is testing her, and since the dude knows where she lives now she's not about to fail in or the city by cheating the Arrow. Everyone knows what happens to those who do.

She leaves the bike for him to pick up and a note telling him that she's got his bag at her place. No way in hell she's gonna leave that kind of cash out of her sight.

When she hears the purr of bike pull away later, with the bag of cash she practically shoved back at the man, she smiles.

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