Gotham City

If there was anything Laurel learned to enjoy over the past several years, it was fighting.

Not at first, obviously. At first, learning how to fight was a matter of survival, and it wasn't like Slade was the kindest of mentors. But she threw everything she had into his tutelage because the other options were too terrible to contemplate. Either she fought or she died or worse. There wasn't going to be a middle ground.

But then Shado started teaching her as well, and that was when she realized she was genuinely starting to like combat. Not in the sadistic sense, she didn't derive pleasure from causing excessive pain or death, but she felt alive in a way that nothing else had ever really made her feel, not even during her pursuit to become a lawyer. Learning how to fight made her feel confident, strong. Like nothing could ever really hurt her again, even though she knew it wasn't true.

The League had cured her of that for a time. Their training was harsh, unrelenting, cruel in a way not even Slade's had ever been. There was nothing fun about going to bed every night with a million bruises and cuts and fractured bones, living in constant terror that if you didn't measure up, you would be killed. Laurel hadn't enjoyed fighting then, unless it was against Shado. At least with her, the spars were friendly competitions rather than an endless parade of tests for competency.

So it only figured that leaving the League behind reawakened that joy. Bruce wasn't as a kind a master as Shado but nowhere near as harsh as Slade, and he certainly wasn't the slave master the League was. His criticisms were blunt and on the point but never excessive, and he always acknowledged where she did well and where she could improve. Laurel thrived under his instruction.

Within a few months, she could honestly say she was a match for Dick. Not that she was a pushover before thanks to the League, but the former sidekick had years of experience on her in addition to being a natural-born acrobat. He was one of the best fighters she had ever seen, easily on par with her Australian mentor. When they first started sparring together, Laurel rarely ever beat him, so managing to reach his level in such a short amount of time was an accomplishment.

Bruce, however, was at a level even beyond that. He was perhaps the only combatant Laurel could ever consider a genuine equal to Ra's al Ghul, who was the greatest fighter she had ever seen. Even Slade (before the Mirakuru essentially put him on steroids) wouldn't have been a match for him, if she had to be completely honest to herself. The man was large and strong, but also lightning fast with quick reflexes. Combined with decades of experience and training to supplement his skill, it was no wonder why Ra's became so obsessed with the idea of making him his heir.

A fact that was being made pertinently clear during her own spar with her mentor, right at this very moment. Laurel, despite her own fast blows, found herself unable to penetrate his guard. Bruce was easily matching each strike she made, blocking them or dodging them. Finally, after a prolonged exchange, he found his own opening and Laurel found her breath leaving her lungs as she was sent to her back thanks to a powerful palm strike to the solar plexus.

"Oof," Laurel let out a grunt as she landed on the mat. After a moment to catch her breath, she sat up and rubbed the back of her head. The mat cushioned most of the blow, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt, even if was just a little bit.

"You shouldn't be so quick to go full-blast and on the offensive once you perceive an opening," Bruce lectured her. "You should build up to that instead so that way you don't waste all your energy on a potentially fruitless barrage."

"Right, right," Laurel agreed, getting back to her feet. "Don't be too eager to end the fight as quickly as possible." She rolled her shoulders and took on another stance.

But Bruce shut her down. "It's almost time for patrol," he claimed. "Go towel and get water. Shower as well. Then you can hit the books."

The books, in this case, being the number of forensics texts he had assigned to her to read. There was a reason why he was called the Detective, after all — her newest teacher and the man she had asked to train her as a vigilante was under the opinion that the best way to be a successful one was to be an effective investigator. Both Dick and Barbara had undergone this training while they were in the field, and now it was Laurel's turn.

It was strange at first, but the more Laurel thought about it, the more it made sense. The vigilantes of Gotham came about thanks to the ineffectiveness of the police and the rampant crime throughout the city. Many of the members of the GCPD were either corrupt, incompetent, or both. And those that weren't were bogged down by red tape and politics. It only made sense to Bruce that he would have to fill in that gap until the GCPD could be cleaned up. And if Laurel was planning to do the same in Starling, then she needed to be able to fill in the gaps for the police there as well, if need be.

A vigilante. In Starling. If her father knew…

Well. She'd cross that bridge when she got to it.

Flashback — Three Months Ago

"It's definitely League ghost ink," Bruce grunted as the results appeared on the Bat-Computer. He lifted the List and glanced at Laurel. "And you're certain that Robert Queen had no ties to the League?"

"Positive," Laurel confirmed, nodding.

"So how did he get a list of Starling's most ill-reputable criminals?"

She shrugged. "What I want to know is why he had it in the first place," she posited back.

"For blackmail."

Every eye turned to Dick. The youngest man in the room cleared his throat. "It's kind of obvious when you think about it. He had a list of people who were shady and corrupt, many of whom were not openly so. But the only way he could compile such a list is if he had proof of their wrongdoings. And yet, if he had proof, why didn't he go to the police or the FBI with it?"

Laurel's eyes widened in realization. "You're right. There's only two reasons why a person would withhold criminal information about another person: either they care about that person and don't want harm or punishment to come upon them…"

"…or they intend to use that information for their own ends. Usually by forcing that person to do something for them," Barbara finished. "Also known as blackmail."

"But why would Robert want to blackmail so many people?" the other woman wondered. "Is that why he was killed? Because someone on the List was sick of being extorted by him?"

"I don't think it's quite that simple," Bruce noted, narrowing his eyes down at the book. "For one thing, how certain are we that Robert was the one who authored this list?"

There was a beat of silence as everyone processed that statement. "You did say you couldn't find any connection between Mr. Queen and the League," Alfred pointed out, turning to address a paling Laurel. "That doesn't mean it didn't exist, but…"

"Right," Laurel agreed. "And there's no way he's a former member. His life is well-documented, at no point did he disappear during a long enough period to train with them, even if it was just long enough to learn the secret to their ghost ink. And as for the list itself…" She trailed off.

"It takes times to collect so much damning information on so many people," Barbara said, throwing in her own two cents. "Even with the help of computers, something like this would take me months. Robert Queen was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. If he was the one who compiled the information to build the List, it would've taken him years."

"Which he didn't have," Laurel finished. She inhaled a deep breath. "More than one person had to have a hand in writing this. At least one of them knew the secret to the League's ghost ink. Which can only mean one thing — there's an entire conspiracy behind his death."

Bruce glanced over at her. "One of the reasons why you never told Ra's about this even after finding out about the ink is because you were never sure what connection the League had to Robert's death. Even now, we still can't be sure, and there's no way to verify it anymore. The League has cut us off permanently. We can no longer appeal to them for any aid."

"In addition to that, whoever sabotaged the Queen's Gambit to kill Robert Queen was willing to murder several innocent people alongside him, including you, to make it happen. Knowing all the dangers involved in this, are you still willing to risk your life just to get him justice?"

It was a test, Laurel knew. Perhaps this entire conversation had been a test. But none of that mattered. Laurel already knew her answer before Bruce had even finished speaking.

She straightened her back as she began to speak. "Robert gave his life so I could live," Laurel said, her words firm. "I love his family almost as much as I love my own. They, along with everyone else who lost someone on the Gambit, deserve justice for what happened to them. I didn't put in so much effort into surviving for this long just to give up when I finally have a serious chance to pursue it for them."

With that, the former assassin looked Bruce dead in the eye. "In short, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

They stared each other down for a long moment, before Bruce did the one thing Laurel didn't expect him to: smile.

"Good. Your training starts tomorrow night," he told her, before turning back to the Bat-Computer. "I suggest you go back to Barbara's and get some rest."

Laurel blinked in surprise. But then, she found herself smiling back.

Seattle

Sara Lance rolled her shoulder blades as she got up from her desk and began packing her books into her bag. After several hours, her professor had finally dismissed her class, and Sara was looking forward to returning home and laying on her bed for an hour to soothe her headache before tackling her homework. The curriculum of the University of Washington's School of Medicine was no joke.

Not for the first time, she wondered how she ended up here. There was a time when Sara was convinced she was never going to graduate from college. All post-secondary school education was good for, in her honest opinion, was finding the best parties to get your rocks off. Her future beyond the next bit of fun was never much of a concern to her.

But then Laurel died, and Sara got tossed into the deep end of the pool called growing up. Multiple arrests and a DUI that only wasn't on her record because her dad pulled every string he could find, Sara was on the fast track to following her older sister to the grave, which had been her intention at the time. It took her parents putting their feet down and showing her how much she was hurting everyone around her, how much she was dishonoring her sister's memory, to stop.

They decided therapy was the best way to help her pull away from her downward spiral. And now, after an increased workload, a ton of summer classes, and a lot of hard work, she found herself in her first year of med school, studying to be a doctor. Sara couldn't help but think that if Laurel was here, she'd be proud, and the idea of that warmed her heart.

"Sara!"

The blonde turned around to see who was calling her, and saw that it was one of her classmates — Alex Danvers. They had met during orientation and had become reasonably good friends, something only bolstered by how many classes they shared together. "You got a minute?" Alex asked once she caught up to Sara, a little out of breath.

The younger woman nodded. "Sure. What's up?"

Alex sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. "I'm having issues understanding our latest unit in Pharmacology," she confessed. "I know you have a knack for that sort of thing, so I was wondering if we could study together. In return, I could you help with one of the subjects you're having problems with."

It was a reasonable offer. Sara thought it over for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Okay. I have been having trouble with Anatomy, and I know you're good at that, so is that fine?"

"That's perfectly fine," Alex agreed, smiling. "My apartment, tomorrow night? We can hash out a more solid schedule then."

"Sounds good," Sara said, nodding again. "I'll meet you at your place at around five. Now, I better head back home. Mom and Dad are definitely waiting for me with dinner."

"Alright. See you later!" With a final wave, she bid Sara farewell. Sara waved back at her, then headed out the door. Time to go home.

Starling City

Since medical school was so expensive, Sara had yet to get a place of her own and was still living with her parents. It was much cheaper that way; her mother might have had a significant inheritance but they were trying to ration that money for emergencies. The recent recession had been proof that they needed to, if either of her parents were going to have any hope of retiring comfortably.

The only serious expense they had splurged on beyond Sara's school fees was another car, and that was because it was more expedient in the long run. It was becoming extremely inconvenient having only one personal car to share between the three of them, especially since her dad couldn't use his police cruiser for personal use. But getting another one, it allowed for all three of them to have a car of their own for most of the week, with only having to share during her father's rare days off.

"I'm home!" Sara announced as she stepped into the house, kicking off her shoes and stretching out her arms.

Quentin's head popped out of the kitchen with a smile. "Welcome home, honey! How was school?"

"Good," she answered back, moving to hang up her coat. "You know my friend Alex? She's having trouble with our latest unit in Pharmacology. I'm going to be studying with her for the next couple of weeks at her place in exchange for her help with Anatomy."

"That's nice, honey. Just remember to check-in with us regularly."

Sara rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her fond smile. "You got it, Dad."

Once she was inside her room, Sara set down her bag at her desk and threw herself on the bed. She didn't regret her choice to become a doctor, but man could the work be exhausting. And it wasn't going to end anytime soon for the next couple of years. She might have a few breaks here and there, but for the most part, Sara was in for a long, hard slog that she was not looking forward to.

Laurel would've loved it, though, Sara couldn't help but think. Her sister had always been a workaholic, something that she had undoubtedly inherited from their father, who was very much the same. That was the thing about Laurel, though — she was never one to take it slow. She was always someone who wanted to get something done, who always wanted to keep moving. It was everyone around her who had to convince her to slow down and take it down a notch.

A small lump formed in Sara's throat, and before she knew it she found herself reaching for the family picture she kept on her desk. The last one of their family whole, before that fucking boat happened and ruined everything. There was Laurel, still and frozen, a timeless snapshot. As always, Sara found her eyes drawn towards it, her hand fingering the image of her sister longingly.

Things had calmed down for the most part, ever since Laurel's death. There was still a quiet ache in the family, and her sister's room remained relatively untouched. Her mother scheduled a day to clean it once a month, but no more than that. Other than visits to her empty grave on her birthday and the anniversary of her death, they had largely transitioned to a new normal. Thoughts about Laurel were no longer so crippling. For better or for worse, they were beginning to move on.

Sara always felt a little guilty about that. She knew that was what Laurel would've wanted, that she wouldn't have wanted them to put their lives on pause just because she was gone. Even so, to her it sometimes felt like they were forgetting Laurel, even though she knew it wasn't true. The picture Sara kept on her desk was proof enough of that, along with the background of her own phone, which had a photo of her and Laurel together when they were kids. It had taken her forever to figure out a way to upload that, but it had been worth it. Hell, even the reason she was in medical school in the first place was because of her sister.

She wasn't the only one. Both of their parents had pictures of Laurel on their desks in their respective workplaces, front and center. And Sara knew for a fact that Ollie still carried the picture Laurel gave him right before she went on that godforsaken yacht in his wallet. He also visited her grave often, perhaps even more often than they did. Probably because he could visit his dad's whenever he wanted since it was on Queen grounds, and he didn't want Laurel to feel neglected.

Laurel was many things, but she wasn't forgotten. But yet, even with all that, there were some days where the grief was just too much. Where all Sara could think of at all was her sister, about how much she missed her and much it hurt knowing that she wasn't with them anymore. How many times had Sara turned to open air to tell Laurel something, only to realize that she wasn't there anymore, that she was never going to be there anymore? How many times she wished Laurel was here so she could ask her sister for advice, only to be reminded that her sister was gone? No matter the countless reminders, all the times she had that fact thrown into her face, those moments had yet to cease.

Maybe in a few years, the would, or at least come less often. But Sara knew, in her heart of hearts, that the pain would never completely dull. There was always going to be a piece of herself missing that she would never get back. Not until she was dead herself.

With a sigh, Sara laid back down on her bed, clutching the picture to her chest. Wherever you are up there, she thought, closing her eyes, I hope you're watching over me.

Bit of a slow start but we'll be getting to fun stuff soon enough. This year is going to be focusing on both Lance sisters — Laurel's adventures in Gotham, and Sara back in Starling. And yes, that is indeed E-1 Alex Danvers. In this AU, Krypton never exploded (pretend canon!Ollie got that Kryptonite arrow in COEX from an alternate earth), so Kara never landed with the Danvers. Alex is an only child here.

Next Chapter: A day in the life of Gotham with Laurel.