I own nothing.

The shouts and sounds of a full bar were the soundtrack to Leonard Snart's evening. Beer and stale peanuts covered the circular bar table he was sitting at, the seat having lost most of its cushion. How he would have preferred to be home on his own, but he had been called out tonight.

The beer in his hand wasn't doing near enough to muffle the rabble around him and his shoulders rolled up in his parka, physical barriers between him and the rest of humanity.

The music blared in the background, nearly drowning out the screech of the opposite chair as Mick Rory took the seat across from him. He stared at Leonard, something disbelieving in his eyes. Leonard waited for him to speak, but Mick just stared, gaze darting across Leonard's face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Leonard asked, suppressing his frown.

"Wasn't sure you'd make it." Mick's gaze moved around the room before returning to Leonard.

"You left me a message, I came. What of it?"

"I just wanted to talk." Of all the things Mick could have said, this was something he hadn't been expecting. "You and I, we've done a lot of thieving, a lot of cool stuff, a lot of fun." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anyway, I, uh, I just wanted to make sure I said something important that wasn't left unsaid."

"Mick," he said warningly, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't do touchy-feely. If you got something to say, say it."

"This wasn't a good idea." Mick moved as if he were about to go, but then his brow furrowed and he took a deep breath. His voice was quiet, but the words were confident. "You're the best guy I ever knew. You may not think you're a hero, but you're a hero to me." He raised his eyes to Leonard, an unfamiliar fire burning in them. "You got that?"

"Yeah," Leonard answered with a frown. "I got it."

That was a lie.

"See you around." The big man got up suddenly and made to move past him, but paused. He lifted one big paw and dropped it on Leonard's shoulder. The weight seemed heavier than he remembered.

Mick squeezed his shoulder, then let go, the cold wind bursting through the door as he vanished out into the darkness.

Leonard turned slightly to watch Mick go, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Something strange was going on. Mick didn't talk. Mick didn't open up. It wasn't what they did.

Perhaps he was running a job without telling him. It would be unusual, but not unheard of. He and Mick both knew that without Leonard, jobs tended to be a bit more fatal. Leonard didn't do fatal. It was messy and denoted bad planning. He was of the mind that if people knew who did it, if they left a trail, it wasn't so much of a heist as it was a simple robbery. Leonard wasn't simple.

Still, he worried about Mick. What trouble that temper of his would get him into with Leonard there to even him out. Running through the options in his head, Leonard tried to figure which score would be enough to tempt Mick's mortality.

So engrossed in thoughts of his partner's uncharacteristic behavior, Leonard had to hold back a flinch as someone sat in the seat Mick had vacated.

"Can I help you?" Leonard drawled, his eyes casting over the woman.

"I hope so," she said. Her voice was lower than he'd expected, the raspy cadence similar to his own. Her blonde hair hung in gentle waves over her shoulders, bright against the dark blue jacket she wore.

Icy eyes met a softer turquoise as Leonard stared her down. She was attractive, but it was roughened by scars and disillusionment. There were lines around her eyes that Leonard had only seen on the faces of men his own age. This woman, years younger than him, carried the weight of decades on narrow shoulders.

"I heard you're the guy to talk to if I wanted to break and enter," she stated calmly, unfazed by his cold demeanor. She shifted in her seat, her eyes darting over his shoulder as the front door opened again. The jacket was unable to hide the faint impressions of a knife or two on this woman's waist.

He smirked coolly, "And where'd you hear that?"

"A mutual friend."

"I don't have friends."

"I'm sure Mick'll be happy to hear that." She put one elbow on the table and rested her chin on hand, signaling for a drink with the other.

Okay, so he was mildly interested now.

"You know Mick." It wasn't a question.

"We go way back." Her face was blank, revealing nothing. It wasn't bad work.

"Funny, seeing as how he's never mentioned you."

She shrugged. "He plays things pretty close to the chest."

That was true. Still suspicious, Leonard examined the woman across from him. "If I were to work with you, old friend of Mick's, what exactly would you need me for?"

"I need to break into a house. High tech security. Guards. The works." She passed the waitress a folded bill when her drink was dropped off. "I need to be in there before the end of next month."

"Why?" Leonard asked, watching her down the amber scotch without a flinch. She was trying to play him. Hard liquor, dangerous attitude, calm in the face of him and this bar. She knew what she was doing, he'd grant her.

"He took something from me. And time is a factor." For the first time since she sat down, her expression wavered and there was real grief in her eyes. It vanished almost as soon as it appeared, but he had seen it.

"Hmm," Leonard said, looking back out over the crowd. "What would my cut be?"

She bit her lip. "See, the thing I want to take from him isn't exactly...lucrative. Personal value only. However, he has quite a collection and you're welcome to any and all of it."

"I don't work for free, Blondie." Leonard threw some money down on the table for his drinks. "Could be a waste of my time."

"I promise you it isn't."

"I don't trust promises." He got to his feet.

She reached across the table, slim fingers halting before touching him, but stopping him nonetheless. "Look. I don't have enough cash to make it worthwhile. And you won't take my word that he'll have enough to more than make up for it." She was almost pleading and it stuck in his throat a little. As much as he usually enjoyed seeing people beg him for anything, this was clearly a woman of means and consequence; having to resort to begging obviously wasn't something she enjoyed. But she was doing it anyway. It made him curious enough to lean on the table again.

"That about sums it up."

"What if I work for it in advance?"

He paused and took his seat back. "How so?"

Her brows drew together. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean, what if I help you run a couple of jobs? Then, I'll have earned your help, you can still steal the house blind and make even more money back, but it won't be off of a promise. It'll be off my excellent work ethic."

The irony wasn't lost on him. "What makes you think I need an extra hand? I've got Mick."

"I'll work for free." She must have seen the interest on his face, because she leaned forward, her voice tempting, "Here's my offer: I'll work three jobs for you. For free. Then, you'll break me into this house, I'll take what I came for, and you'll never have to see me again."

The deal sounded too good to be true. And it probably was. But that wasn't what was catching his attention.

This woman was lying.

Not about everything, as far as he could tell. But something big. She was lying through her teeth and she was damned good at it. But he was better.

Most people would balk at taking a liar onto their team, but he was intrigued. And if she could lie this well, perhaps she had the kind of talents he could use.

"What skills could you bring to the table, aside from your work ethic?" he asked.

She didn't hesitate. "I've moonlighted as a thief a few times. But more often, I end up the muscle."

His brow rose higher.

"I know I don't look it. Several years of training under my belt, though."

He eyed the pale skin, crisscrossed with scars, the way she angled herself toward the door, how she tracked the few men Leonard knew were carrying weapons. She was telling the truth, about that at least. Still, he hid the appeal well. Instead of asking her to demonstrate, he asked, "Why me? There are dozens of thieves in the city. I know you say you know Mick, but I'm curious."

"You know what they say about curiosity."

"Indulge me."

She smiled faintly for the first time, and Leonard had to try very hard not to let his eyes drop to her mouth. Dangerous, baggage, and a smirk? Just his type.

"I don't need a thief," she said. "I need a master thief. So I came to you."

"I don't trust you."

"You shouldn't."

He nearly smiled. "I'm going to need a few days to think on it."

"Come on." She leaned back in her chair. "Let's cut to the chase. I could demonstrate skills, I could talk till I'm blue in the face, and you would still say no. How about we skip all that? 'Cause you're going to take my deal."

"Is that so?" His tone was arrogant, but she didn't so much as blink.

"Yup." From her coat, she pulled out a simple black billfold. "Want your wallet back?"

Leonard stared for just a moment. He didn't pat his pockets to confirm it. Now that she'd shown him, he could feel the missing weight. Then he lifted his eyes to the woman across from him and nodded. "Alright, Blondie."

She drew a piece of paper out of her pocket, a phone number already written across it. Passing him that and his wallet, she said, "Call me when you've got a job and I'll be there. Remember, the end of next month."

She pushed away from the table and walked past him.

"I don't know your name," he said, staring straight ahead.

She paused next to him and Leonard saw her fingers tighten briefly. "Sara."

He turned in his seat to face her. "Leonard."

"I know."

"I'll give you a call soon. There are a few things I might be able to use your help with, if Mick is unavailable. If I'm desperate."

"Don't sound so thrilled."

"I'm not."

She stared at him for just a moment before that carefully blank expression reappeared. Now that he had caught on to some of her tricks, he wasn't overly surprised to see her eyes still looked haunted.

"See you," she said, before wrapping her coat tighter around her shoulders and heading outside into the darkness.

Leonard watched her go, his curiosity burning. He ordered another drink and sat back, wondering if anyone else would bother him tonight.

When his drink arrived and no one had decided to join him, he pulled out the piece of paper Sara had written her number on. Then he pulled out the small money clip he'd lifted off of her, containing her ID.

He smirked, looking over the now familiar face of his temporary teammate.

"Sara Lance, huh?" he murmured. Leonard chuckled, pocketing the ID and picking up his drink.

This could be interesting.