They've moved out of the city center at this point, out of the tourist district, but it's still a decent little business district, the sort with lots of smaller businesses, independently owned stores, small galleries. Most of them are closed at this hour and there aren't really many people around, but it's not really a place Sara would have expected trouble. She whips around, pinpointing the sound as coming from a narrow alley between a closed lawyer's office and an equally dark boutique.

Her bo, collapsed and tucked up a sleeve, is already sliding into her hand, and she's released the hidden catches on her forearm sheaths, just in case she needs the knives there. She glances at Len, uncertain for a moment. Cynical Earth-1 Leonard would probably have helped. Probably. If she'd asked. After he'd gotten a little better read on the situation.

But Len's…Len's already at her side, unbuttoning his cuffs to shove his shirtsleeves as far as possible up to his shoulders.

"I like this shirt," he tells her defensively, even as his hands and forearms start to ice up. "Lead on, captain."

She leads on.

They've fought together often enough at this point to know the other's moves. Sara charges into the alley a few steps ahead of Len, but she knows what he's going to do. As soon as she can, she cuts to the side, extended bo clobbering a dark-clad man who's watching his cohorts circle a woman a few feet away. Even as she does so, she hears the crackle of ice behind her, the ambient temperature of the alley dropping a few degrees. She knows a streak of ice, moisture pulled from the air itself, is running down the center of the alley, making it tough for anyone, good guy or bad guy, to keep their footing.

"Well, we can always sort 'em out later, right?" he'd explained it once. "Chances are a slip isn't going to hurt someone too much. At any rate, it's less risky than hurling actual ice blasts around if you don't know precisely what's going on. Still working on fine control, but in an emergency, it ain't happening yet."

Sara couldn't argue. In fact, she'd had him ice down the floor of the training room a few times so she could practice on a slick surface and also see what footwear worked best on ice. Gideon had complained mightily about the mess as it thawed.

But Sara isn't wearing her new boots today, the ones with the soles designed for fighting with a teammate who can throw ice around like she flings knives. That doesn't mean she can't deal with the ice—or even use it to her advantage.

So, turning, she takes one step, two, and hits the ice in a controlled slide, tearing through the men who've turned in confusion to try and figure out what's going on. Within a moment, she's reached the woman, who's still standing there shrieking-though she'd at least had the presence of mind to pick up a board that'd been propped up against the dumpster at the back of the alley.

"It's OK," Sara hisses. "Shh! We've got this."

The woman, who's younger than Sara and a bit frail-looking, stares at her, then drags in a quick breath as if to tell her something or scream again. Sara shakes her head, though, and she stops, still wide-eyed. The captain of the Waverider nods, then pushes her back to a corner, half-hidden, before turning to continue taking care of whatever she needs to.

But Len's already dealt with the other men, who are partially iced to the buildings on either side of the alley. She's given him enough time and space to reach for the control he's been working for, and he's reached it enough to confine without overtly harming. He's standing there, sleeves still rolled up and forearms still coated with ice, watching her, eyes bright and intent, and she takes a step toward him…

"Snart!"

They both whirl, but the man backing out of the dark back of the alley is only looking at Len—which doesn't speak well for his survival instincts. The unknown has his hands up, but he seems to be gaping at Len's face, not his icy arms, and Sara notices that Len obscures them as soon as he can, stepping back a little into the shadows himself.

"We didn't know you were back," the thug protests, a note of fear in his tone. "We didn't know, Snart!"

The man is trying to edge toward the street, but Sara moves to cut off his path. Len glances at her, then squares his shoulders, moving forward again. His arms are now bare of ice, and his sleeves are covering them again.

In a weird sort of twist, Gideon had told them at this Snart is physically a handful of years younger than the one from Earth-1, but it's difficult to tell that at a glance. From things he's said to her, she's pretty sure he has fewer scars, but no two-bit hitter is going to know that.

"Ignorance," he tells the thug in what's apparently meant to be a cold…and Cold…voice, "is no excuse." And he doesn't sound quite like Leonard either, in some indefinable way, but apparently that's only obvious to her right now. Certainly, the other man still believes he's who he seems to be.

"It's all Monteleone," the man says, keeping his hands up, voice a little desperate as he takes another step back, watching Len, but now glancing back to check Sara's location too. "He's kinda … kinda the boss in town now. I…"

"Monteleone. Jack Monteleone?" Len's voice drops a little, anger touching it, and he sounds more like his Earth-1 doppelganger than Sara's ever heard him sound before. Sara, surprised, studies him as he stalks toward the thug, who looks rather intimidated.

"Y…yeah." The man swallows and retreats another step. "Snart, I'll tell people yer back in town, Monteleone would talk, cut a deal, just let me…"

"What's he running?" Len's voice is low, dangerous, and Sara feels the temperature drop a little again. He's going to give up the charade if he loses control of his powers, she thinks, then makes a noise, trying to get his attention. But he's focused on the other man, rage flickering in his eyes, and Sara's starting to get an inkling why.

"Don' know, just…stuff…"

Len's hands tighten into fists and the temperature drops a little more. But before Sara can say anything, the young woman, the one whose screams had started this whole thing, emerges back into the relatively dim light and lets out a strangled sound when she sees the man standing there and the others scattered about.

But to Sara's surprise, she doesn't fade back into the shadows or otherwise quail. Instead, she rushes toward them, toward the man with his hands out, distress and anger on her face.

"Where are they?" she cries. "What did you do with them?"

Sara and Len both blink at her, and the man takes that opportunity to try to dart past them, toward the mouth of the alley. Sara turns and almost casually clips him with her bo, sending him sprawling. She hadn't meant to knock him out, but he hits his head against the concrete surface himself and goes limp. Sara shakes her head, checking his breathing, then rises to look back at Len.

Len has an armful of weeping woman, and while he looks distinctly awkward about it, she can't even imagine Earth-1 Leonard doing such a thing. She shakes her head again to chase away the memories, moving toward them.

"They took my little boy, and my husband," the woman sobs. "And it's all my fault. I didn't know what they had me carrying. We needed some money…when I found out, I got rid of the…the stuff…and they want it back!"

Len, eyes narrowed, puts his hands on her shoulders and moves her away from him, holding her there at arm's length.

"Drugs," he growls, "in my city. The hell?"

The woman stares at him with distressed eyes, but his demeanor isn't threatening, just irritated.

"I didn't know," she says brokenly. "I didn't know. I guess…I guess I didn't want to know."

Len shakes his head at her. "Honey," he growls, "if somethin' seems too good to be true, it usually is."

Like this whole date thing, Len thinks, although he's trying to keep that thought off his face. Definitely too good to be true. Shoulda known.

Still, he may not be a shiny, ride-in-on-the-white-horse good guy, but he's not letting a kid suffer the consequences of a stupid decision like this. And he's not letting this world's version of the goddamned Candyman run drugs in Central City.

He's also not going to let this world's version of the Flash off the hook for letting it get this far in the first place. But first things first.

Besides him, Sara sighs, and he might be imagining that the sound contains as much regret as he's feeling for the wreckage of their evening. "They took them, you said," she says to the other woman. "Who? When? Where? What precisely did they say?"

"We were out…we went to Big Belly Burger. It's my son's favorite, I thought…"

"Focus!" Len's trying not to sound irritated, he really is, but it leaks out anyway.

She barely seems to notice. "…I saw them, I tried to get Jonathan to take Michael and run, but he wouldn't…then there was another group, and they…"

"They herded them down here," Sara finishes. Len glances at her and sees her studying the alley, the buildings on either side. "It's a dead zone. There are cameras all over Central; you can see them if you know where to look. But there are no cameras here."

Len nods to himself. Sara notices things, too. "So, no Flash. Even he's gotta see or hear about stuff somehow." He looks at the woman, who's wringing her hands. "So it was right before we heard you?"

"Yes, they grabbed Jon and Mikey and just…took them. They said they were…" She swallows. "…going to, to give me a taste of what would happen to them if I didn't get the stuff back. But it's gone. I threw it in the canal! I didn't want it anywhere around us."

While he can't argue with her distaste, it really wasn't the brightest move. "I'm sure the fish are very appreciative."

Sara cuts in again. "Where are you supposed to take it?" She sighs as the other woman blinks at her. "Look, I know this is hard. But we're trying to help, and you need to give us information, at least."

Something about Sara's exasperated patience gets through. The other woman straightens, looking hopeful. "The old hotel, by the piers," she says. "The one that partly burned a few years back? That's what they said."

"How long did they give you?"

"By 9!" The woman looks like she's going to cry again. "Either the…the stuff…or the money."

Len's lost patience. "Drugs," he snaps. "You were carrying drugs for them. Have the nerve to say the word."

"I didn't know!"

"You knew," Sara tells her, a touch of ice in her own tone. "On some level. You just didn't want to know." She glances at Len again. "If we flag down the Flash, we can figure out what to do from here."

Yeah, dinner's just not happening now. "Right. I want a word with him anyway." Turning, he stalks to the entrance to the alleyway and casts about for a camera, which isn't difficult. Double-checking that the folks around are pretty much minding their own business, he waves at it…and then, icing down his hand, flips it off.

That would get his world's Barry Allen speeding over. From what he's heard, this world's Barry isn't so different. Given that the Team Flash he's heard about monitors the city's network of cameras, the combination of suddenly plummeting temperature readings, the clear view of a former nemesis and the smartass gesture should get someone's attention.

He's barely made it back to Sara and the distraught woman when there's a golden blur flickering around them, a blur that then resolves into the figure of a red-suited man, who stares at him like he's seeing…

Like he's seeing a ghost.

Sara speaks before the speedster can, though. "I have the information we need," she says, her tone clearly warning him…them…not to get into any talk of alternate Earths or secret identities just yet. "Flash, can you take her somewhere safe? Get her out of this." She turns to the woman before Barry can do more than blink at her. "We'll get them back. But you need to stay put. OK?"

The woman is crying again. "I will. I will. Thank you…"

For his part, Barry…it must be Barry, right?...takes a deep breath and then nods, apparently deciding, wisely, that it's better not to argue with Sara. He takes the woman's arm and speeds off again in that flicker of golden light.

Leaving Len and Sara standing there looking at each other.

There's regret in Len's eyes as he watches her, but Sara has noticed that he hasn't even once suggested reluctance to do something about this situation. Hell, his anger at the notion of a drug ring like this—headed by someone he's apparently somewhat familiar with—suggests completely the opposite.

Still. Regret. On both their parts.

After a moment, Len shrugs, offering her that lopsided grin again.

"Well," he says lightly, "at least we're not bored."

"Hmm." Sara smirks at him. "True. But you think maybe the Flash can handle it without us?"

He snorts in derision. "If he hasn't yet, he probably can't. Some things are apparently true in all the worlds."

"Like you giving Barry Allen shit?"

"Even so."

And just like that, the golden blur is back, stopping in front of them and resolving into the red-suited speedster, who stares at Len with a stunned expression (after a glance at Sara, who's at least a known quantity). After a moment, he pulls off his hood, and the two men blink at each other.

Len, typically, doesn't remain flat-footed for long. "You're the Flash?" he drawls, sauntering in a slow circle around Barry, who turns to keep him in view. "Huh. You…look different on my Earth."

"I do?" The hero looks a little baffled by the whole thing. "Um. How?"

"More blondish. Older." Len waves a hand. "We're more…contemporaries."

"Do you flirt with that one like you do this one?" Sara mutters, grinning. Len winks at her. Barry, catching the byplay, turns a little red, but sticks his hand out to the other man.

"Uh. Hi," he says sheepishly. "I heard you were…visiting. Pleased to meet you. I think."

Len considers the hand a moment, then shrugs and shakes it. As far as Sara can tell, he doesn't even bother lowering his body temperature to give the hero icy fingers. Barry, regaining his equilibrium a little, glances at Sara then.

"Sara?" he asks. "I know you guys were back visiting-Ray stopped by earlier-but why are you and Snart…this Snart…"

"Len," Len supplies helpfully.

"…uh, Len doing here?"

Sara's lips twitch. "Well, we had dinner plans."

Barry blinks again. "What?"

Sara rolls her eyes. She can understand, she thinks with amusement, why any version of Leonard likes to mess with Barry Allen. It's so easy.

"You heard me," she tells him drily.

"We had a date, Allen," Len chimes in, tone dripping with annoyance. "Although you hero types have kinda dropped the ball and messed it up at this point."

Barry's jaw drops.

Sure, it's always fun to mess with Barry—any Barry-but Len's not sure he likes how dumbfounded the man seems to be at those words. He's not sure if it's because the other man is used to him being a villain or because he thinks Sara Lance is out of Len's league.

Personally, Len knows Sara Lance is out of his league. But he's not happy Barry Allen seems to think so too.

The—he's just a kid, really—picks his jaw up after a moment, staring at Len. Then he shakes his head.

"You're dating Sara Lance?" he manages, glancing at Sara. "Seriously?"

Hey, now, that's just insulting. Len glares at him, folding his arms.

"Well," he says accusatorily, "I'm trying."

Sara snickers at that. Len throws her an amused look, then glances back at Barry. "No thanks to the hero who's supposed to be doing all this shit," he adds. "Sleeping on the job, Flash. Jack Monteleone's running drugs in your city. He's bad news. What the hell?"

Barry has the grace to look a little sheepish. "Well, the thing is, I'd never heard of him until a week or two ago. We haven't been able to figure out where he's based. And for some reason, he's been able to stay off our radar," he says, rallying. "Kinda literally. We just can't get a good fix. It's giving Cisco fits."

Len frowns. "Cisco?"

But Barry's rolling on. "I mean, I've tried." He shakes his head. "He's been a step ahead of me."

"Well. We know by the hotel at the docks now."

The kid looks skeptical. "But it's a wreck. That's not his base."

Len has his doubts, but he shrugs. "So at any rate, we gotta get the guy and kid outta there and then take Monteleone out, since you can't." Len snorts. "Peachy." He lifts an eyebrow as Barry stares at him again. "What? You think I'm leaving him there to fuck up my city? No."

Hesitating a moment, he eyes Sara. "Canary? I know it's not what I promised, but you in?"

"Hell, yeah." Sara frowns, though. "But we don't have much time, and it sounds like just rushing the place isn't a good idea…"

"No," Barry says fervently.

"…but that hitter. He was not happy to think you…Leonard was back." She shakes her head. "I know Mick said he never held with drugs on his turf…"

"It's one of the reasons a lot of stuff never caught on here," Barry starts, even as Len mutters, "Well, there's another thing we had in common."

Sara's quiet a moment. Then she sighs and looks right at Len.

"You think you could be, well, him for a bit?" she says quietly. "Just to get us in there? To give us a chance to rescue them?"