"You're good, I'll give you that," he says without preamble the minute she sits down on the barstool next to his. He picks up his glass and pours the contents on the floor, clearly hinting to her that he suspects her of poisoning his drink. He knows that's not her style, that's not how Talia-al-saf-er kills, but he's not taking any chances. Turning to her now, he speaks. "I've been at this job for more than two decades. I can tell when I'm being followed. It's an instinct. But I didn't sense you trailing me. The League trained you well."
She takes a moment to adjust to the sound of his voice, the familiar monotone and the unfamiliar coldness in it, to the look on his face, the ever-present trace of curiosity behind that mask of boredom, and the recent suspicion directed at her. She takes another moment to compose herself at the mention of the league, pushing back the bitter memories and emotions it dredges up in her. Finally, she speaks, in soft whispered words at first, trying not to spook him. "I didn't follow you, Len. I knew you'd be here. This is your favourite bar. You told me that."
"Right. Because we were friends," he spits out that word with a hatred that tells her they're the farthest thing from friends now. It almost makes her want to retreat and hide in a corner, like the scared little girl she used to be when the Gambit sank.
Almost. She has been trained by the league of assassins. And she has survived it. She is stronger than this, and she's not going to abandon him when he needs her most. Gathering up her courage, she speaks, now in a louder and much more confident tone. "I thought you should know a little something about the team you're rolling with."
"Please, do tell," he mumbles sarcastically.
"The Reverse Flash wanted to go back in time and kill the Flash when he was just a kid. Instead, he killed his mother and sent his father to prison. Then he killed an innocent man and his wife to masquerade as him for years," she pauses for a reaction, but when he continues to listens quietly without responding, she moves on to the person she hates the most. "Damien Darhk killed my sister Laurel and wanted to nuke a city."
"So?" He asks flippantly, as if killing thousands of innocent people is not a big deal. It surprises her, because even when they first met, and even as a criminal, he has always followed a code and never taken lives just for the sake of taking lives. And it also hurts, because he would have helped her get through Laurel's death and she wouldn't have been alone, and now he's absolutely indifferent to the thing that matter to her most.
Not letting these terrifying thoughts discourage her, she continues. "You remember how your dad hit Lisa with a bottle when she was seven?"
His eyes turn threateningly cold. This is a topic that he does not want to discuss, specially with a stranger who had him killed in another timeline. "I thought you were talking about my legion, not my family."
"Malcolm Merlyn's daughter, Thea, is my friend," she says, now cutting to the chase before he loses his cool. "He brainwashed her to murder me in cold blood. Malcolm Merlyn had me killed."
"And that's supposed to matter to me, why exactly?" he deadpans. "As far as I'm concerned, he can kill you as many times as he wants. Make no mistake, Lance. I've killed plenty of people for my own selfish reasons. So have you. We are nobody to judge killers."
His words leave her speechless. Her Leonard would not have rushed to Merlyn, cold gun blazing, like some sort of movie hero, but he would have told her that she's not a killer, not anymore, and he certainly not have been on the same team, or even the same room with her killer, this she knows. It hurts to think that person is gone now. But this is not the time to hurt. This is the time to bring him back. She must make her point and appeal to the side of him that she knows still exists. "I'm asking you to judge the person, the father. When Thea was dying, he would rather let her die than give up being Ra's-al-ghul. He's manipulated her and made her do his bidding so many times that eventually she cut all ties with him. Is that the kind of person you want to be associated with?"
"We're not planning on exchanging friendship bracelets and doing sleepovers in our pajamas," he says sarcastically, and then adds, in a dead-serious, matter-of-fact voice. "It's strictly business."
She's a little scared at how her best shot at getting through to the human in him and making him realize he's on the wrong team has failed completely.
But she's also the person who looked into the devil's eyes and gave him her soul. She spent six years in the dark, and let the darkness inside her consume her much longer than that. She knows enough about being lost to know that sometimes you just need a lighthouse to guide you back home. Laurel, her beacon of hope, never gave up on her, even when she was irredeemable, and she's not going to give up on Leonard either.
"Don't turn to the dark side of the force," she says bravely, half-smiling at the corny-reference that she knows because of him. She stands up now, and sees him being on red-alert at her movement, but he lets her lean in and press a kiss on his cheek. "Come back to me," she whispers, before she leaves.