Author's Note: This will make far more sense if you read "Thief & Assassin" first.

Not sure how many chapters it's going to be, though I'm going to estimate 10. Many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta and Pir8grl for the title!

Sara woke in warmth, wrapped in a pair of strong arms, content. It took her a moment to register the context, helped by the scent of mint and leather, but when she did, she relaxed again, sighing into Len's collarbone, tightening her arms again, reminding herself that it was just a dream.

Even as blue light flickered along the edges of her vision.

After a few moments, though, she glanced up again, judging the faint light as it shone on the wall opposite the window, then sighed.

"Len," she whispered.

"Mmfh," was the result.

"Len." Sara smiled a little against his collarbone. "Remember. It's your first day on the Council."

A long silence.

Then, muttered, "Was dead when you all agreed to that."

Sara snorted, hiding the pang the words caused. "You weren't dead. You were just…elsewhere."

"Still didn' agree."

"Well, then you shouldn't have waited until…" She lifted her head a little, squinting. "…less than two candlemarks until the meeting to argue."

Another muffled noise. Definitely profanity.

Sara waited a moment. Then, smirking, she leaned forward and nibbled, delicately, on his collarbone.

The sound Len made was satisfying incoherent. He opened his eyes just enough for Sara to see a sliver of blue, then closed them again.

So she did it again.

The noise this time was even rougher. Hands wrapping around her shoulder blades convulsively, nearly spanning her back as he just barely kept his blunt nails from digging into her skin, Len tightened his arms. He stretched against her, and oh holy hells, maybe that was a bad idea. Sara dragged in a rough breath herself, attempting to keep herself from wrapping her legs around him, then tried to find her voice again.

"Len," she said raggedly. "You don't have court clothes here. You have…"

There was that glimpse of blue again, beneath lashes, just a flash. And that…that jerk smirked at her!

"Well," he purred. It was definitely a purr. "Guess I can't go."

Sara narrowed her eyes at him. "Leonard…"

"Ah, it's 'Leonard' now, is it?" Abruptly, he ducked his head and kissed her, deeply, soundly. Sara gave in, moving convulsively against him, moving her own hands to go flat against his lower back, pressing him closer.

Given their activities of last night, the ones that had led to Len staying there where he probably shouldn't have, neither one of them is precisely clothed. OK, they're not clothed at all. And it doesn't take much, not so much at all, for her to squirm around underneath him, pulling him on top of her, and…

He was definitely going to be late.

Leonard was, quite technically, late to his first Council meeting. He sauntered into the palace room as if he wasn't, though, looking remarkably well-put-together, he thought, for someone who'd borrowed the Assassins Guild's fastest horse, been chased by guards on his way here (until Barry had called them off—he's going to hear about that later) and had a hasty wash-up in his rooms before pulling on the spare court outfit there.

To his amusement, Rip wasn't there yet—which meant, of course, that Len was only technically late. The smirk on his face grew as he made his way to an empty seat, hearing the talk in the room pause briefly. Well, so far, they've dealt with Harrison, Sara, and Martin in the new Guild seat. They'll manage with him.

He'd forgotten, however, that his role as the head of the Thieves Guild wasn't the reason they were staring. Or, at least, not the only reason.

Although he was abruptly recalled to it when he heard someone whisper "Druce."

And then "time stone."

And then "resurrected." Uttered in a tone of utter reverence.

Len turned his head casually toward the last speaker, a young man from the Declan family. The fellow colored as he saw Len's gaze, but didn't look away and…ah, hell, what was he going to do with a Council member with a bona fide hero worship case/crush on him?

He wasn't the only one staring either. Not all, or most, of the looks were like that, thank gods, but there was also wonder, awe, fear. He was the man who vanished into time and came back, and although he didn't remember a damned thing about it (except maybe in his dreams), apparently the tale had made an impression.

But then Rip swept in to the room, looking a bit harried as usual, Gideon trailing serenely in his wake, and the Council members stood. And Len decided to leave it be. For now.

Sara wasn't unhappy that she got to have a slightly more relaxed morning, although after Len's hasty departure she'd still chosen to get out of bed, washing and dressing and having a semi-leisurely breakfast before letting the apprentice at the door know she was available.

She also had a few scheduled appointments, with people who wanted to contract a member of the Guild. The first was a major "no" nearly immediately, as it became clear that the intense man with the abrupt manner wanted someone to eliminate the man who'd married the woman he "loved." Sara ascertained quickly that the woman had married the other man willingly, even happily, and turned the would-be patron down flat with a warning—and then dumped him out on his ear when he'd reacted badly. That'd been fun.

The next appointment had been with a high-end jeweler who wanted to hire particularly lethal-looking protection for the opening of his new shop in the noble district. Sara took a shine to him, and they'd quickly hashed out a contract for two members of the Guild, to be chosen by her.

And then there was the third. The quiet woman, well dressed and wearing a ring betokening her mastery in the Artisans Guild, told Sara that her former spouse was effectively stalking her and her two daughters, terrifying the girls and saying he was going to take them away, warning people away from her business of making and selling handwoven shawls with false claims of poor quality, and threatening her with death or worse whenever he could find her without witnesses.

The Guard had warned him multiple times and posted a detail outside her shop, but they couldn't be everywhere…and while they could and had taken him into custody before, they couldn't hold him forever. Not unless he did something more…at which point it could be rather too late.

Sara would do further investigation first, of course, but she was already inclined to take the contract the other woman, desperately, delicately, offered. Perhaps personally.

"No woman should ever suffer at the hands of men," she told Master Anna seriously. "Come back in a few days. And we'll talk again."

After all that, she spent an hour or so continuing in her project to renovate Darhk's former quarters, with the eager apprentice Sin helping her haul out the things she deemed safe enough and setting aside any items she wanted to have a representative of the Mages Guild check first before disposing of. Sara was just considering a dagger she'd found in an oddly elaborate box, found in a hidden compartment in the closet, when she glanced up at a noise at the door.

She climbed to her feet immediately, smiling, setting the box aside. "Amaya!"

The other woman smiled and happily accepted Sara's hug. "Oh, come on. It hasn't been that long!"

"Well, it feels like it." Once Sara had settled into the Assassins Guild, her friend had decided to take a set of rooms off Guild row and investigate the other Guilds, trying to find where she fit in in this new environment. She had been spending a great deal of time with Len's old friend and second in the Thieves Guild, Mick, but the big man rather notably hadn't been mentioning her lately and Sara hadn't seen her in her own visits to that Guild hall.

She paused, studying Amaya, who was wearing her traditional Zambesi garb today and looking amused and curious. "Are you and Mick…"

"Ah." The other woman glanced away. "I haven't seen him. Recently. Is he…well?"

"Well enough, from what I've seen." Sara regarded her a moment longer. "The historian?" she said with a sigh. "Is that it?"

Raymond Palmer A'Stella, the head of the city Artificers Guild, had introduced Sara and Amaya to his friend Nathaniel, the city historian and an instructor at the University, when they'd been trying to learn more about Zaman Druce in the aftermath of…of the Oculus incident. Sara had noticed that her friend and the historian had hit it off, but she'd been rather distracted herself at the time…and Mick and Amaya, she'd thought, had been approaching something, although Sara herself hadn't had the heart to inspect it too closely at the time.

Amaya smiled at her, but her expression seemed uncertain, a bit. "He's a good man."

"I'm sure, but…" Sara let her voice train off. "As long as you're happy." Amaya still seemed uncertain, though, and Sara decided to change the subject. "I think I need a break." She brushed off her tunic, smiling at her friend. "How about some lunch?"

Amaya seemed a little relieved. "That would be lovely. There's a new place near city center that's actually supposed to have some Zambesi-inspired dishes. Would you be willing…"

"Sounds great." Sara turned and saw Sin, sitting on the floor surrounded by discarded papers and watching them wide-eyed. "Sin? Would you like to come with us?" She smiled at the girl as Sin bounded to her feet. "A thank you for all you're helping me with."

"Really? I can?" The girl looked ecstatic, then clearly tried to regain her calm. "I may, I'd like to very much, Master Assassin. If that is OK."

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it." Sara briefly wondered if the Council meeting had let out yet, then smirked to herself, imagining Len's reaction if it hadn't. "OK, ladies. Let's go."

The Council meeting lasted far longer than even Len had feared. He'd hoped, with the old Council gone, that things were going to be a little less…well, long. Drawn-out. Combative.

Well, they weren't really the last. But the newcomers wanted to talk about everything, including ways to make sure a Druce situation didn't happen again. And new rules. Lots of rules.

So. Many. Rules.

With a sigh, Leonard walked back into the Guild hall, nodding to the apprentice there…and nearly walking right into the man who rose from one of the armchairs in the entry chamber.

"Greetings," the man said smoothly. "I'm looking for Guild Master Leonard Snart."

Len buried the flinch he felt. "I don't use that name," he told the stranger, knowing that his tone was a little harsh. "Just Leonard A'Centralis. And you are?"

The other man, brown-haired and fairly unremarkable, gave him a thin smile. "Eobard Thawne." He paused, as if Leonard should know the name, then continued. "I knew your father, once. And…"

But Leonard had held up a hand. He had a feeling this was a conversation he wanted to move to his office. Anything involving Lewis tended to be. "Let's take this elsewhere." He motioned toward the stairs. "Follow me, please."

Eobard—Leonard hadn't missed that he hadn't provided a patrial—did so amenably enough, and once they were there, he declined to take a seat, watching Leonard closely. So, Leonard did the same, standing, considering him.

"Lewis has been gone a while," he told the other man, trying to keep his own distaste out of his voice. "And I will admit, I've never heard of you. I'm not sure if I can help you."

Eobard gave him another one of those bland smiles. "I understand that he is now…deceased," he said. "But…my associates…and I are looking for a talented thief, and I understand that you are, to all accounts, far better than he." He tilted his head. "So. Are you interested in a job?"

Leonard gave him a thin smile in return. "Not that interested in anything Lewis was, personally," he drawled. "But you want to tell me more about it, perhaps I can find someone who will fit your needs."

The other man's eyes narrowed, but he didn't lose that bland smile. "We shall see," he said after a moment. "I'd hoped to keep this just between us." A shrug. "Well, then, I think before I make any further requests, I need to look into another piece of the puzzle." He paused. "Is the Assassins Guild still down the row? The red brick building?"

All the alarms went off in Leonard's head.

"It is," he said promptly, hiding them. "But I don't think they have appointment hours today." They did and he knew it, but if he could just stall this oddly unsettling man a little longer, they'd be over. And he could warn Sara first. He considered Thawne thoughtfully as the man frowned.

Sara could deal with things herself. Len knew that. But that didn't mean he was that inclined to ignore the ripple of instinctive alarm that this Thawne caused in him.

"You know, I think I need more information before I can truly turn down the job myself, if it's that important," he said before the other man turned away, layering cold confidence and utterly justifiable ego into his voice. "I am the best. But the price would have to be worth it."

Thawne's expression changed again. It became almost smug, as though he figured he had Leonard hooked for reasons he hadn't revealed yet.

"Oh, it is," he said simply, stepping back toward one of the chairs. "Shall we talk?"

Lunch, with its Zambesi spices, was pleasantly hot, and while Sara had to get poor Sin an additional carafe of water (or two) after even her milder meal, they all enjoyed it. Sara and Amaya, still catching up, decided to go for a stroll in the marketplace after, watching Sin go from stall to stall while eagerly looking at all the wares.

"I don't know," Amaya was saying, smiling as she watched the girl looking wide-eyed at a mask-makers stall. "I thought about joining the Mages Guild, but it's just not the same…the same sort of magic, not really." She touched the totem at her throat. "Still, I'm intrigued about the work they're doing there. And there's not a true Warriors Guild here. There's the army and the Triple Guard…and the Assassins Guild, which really does need a new name, you know."

Sara smiled a little, thoughtfully. "I've thought about it. You're really right; it's not what we really do. A holdover, really, from when the League started the Guild…" She laughed as Amaya turned to her, eyes wide. "Ah, you didn't know that, did you? Most people don't. Many years ago, in this very city. Then it spread." She shook her head. "But the connection's not really there any more, not in most cases. And, well, that's not all or even most of what the Guild does anymore."

Amaya raised both eyebrows but smiled and didn't ask. "That's true. Well, I've been at the University a lot too, lately, reading in the library, which is how I met Nate again, and…well."

"It's Nate, is it?" Sara tried to keep her thoughts from showing. She liked Mick. "Well, if he makes you happy."

"He does." But Amaya's smile didn't seem to meet her eyes this time and she shrugged, stopping to look at a mask herself, a lioness worked in rich brown and golden leather. "How's Leonard?"

"Well." Sara knew the smile on her own face might be a little foolish, but that was OK. She reached out to run a fingertip along the smooth surface of a mask that had caught her eye, a white falcon with black-edged feathers, fierce-looking and beautiful. "He's well. Although he filled in at his first Council meeting today and he wasn't all that happy about that."

"Ouch." Amaya chuckled. "Yeah, I can see that. How…"

But Sara had looked away at that moment, toward a flicker of motion that had somehow caught her eye, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw what seemed to be a familiar set of features.

It couldn't be.

Still, she started that way, needing to know, needing to know if her mind was playing a particularly dirty trick on her, if this particular ghost of her past was still a ghost or if it was all too real.

She heard Amaya ask a question, heard Sin's voice rise, but Sara was already gone, pushing through the crowd, chasing the figure in black. It stayed just ahead of her, and she thought he…it…was gone a few times, but she kept going, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart and the questions she couldn't avoid.

And then she burst into an open area, saw a dark figure to her right, and turned that way…and there he was, right on the shore of the canal that wound its way through the city, looking as casual as if he'd been waiting for her.

"Well, well." Malcolm Merlyn smirked at her, leaning against a tree, looking unsurprised. "If it isn't the woman who wouldn't stay dead."

Sara glanced behind herself involuntarily, but Amaya and Sin hadn't caught up to her yet, and she looked back around to glare at Malcolm. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The dark-haired man continued to smirk at her. "I'm here with a…a colleague, of sorts," he said, studying Sara. "Though I guess I should warn him off his visit to the Assassins Guild." He nodded to the emblem she wore openly. "I'm guessing Damien is dead. Pity."

Sara didn't dignify it with an answer, taking a step closer. "You're not welcome here, Malcolm."

Merlyn shrugged. "Oh, but I am. I'm on business."

"And you were responsible for a large number of deaths in Stella, not all that long ago. I'm sure the Guard would be very interested to know that," Sara shot back. "As would the king."

The man lifted his eyebrows dramatically. "Oh, does little Sara have friends in high places these days? Interesting." He shrugged again. "Well, I know plenty about you as well. I suggest that you hold your tongue. And I'll do the same. M'kay?"

Sara took in a quick breath, but then she heard "Sara!" from behind her. She spun, seeing Amaya and Sin round the corner, heading in her direction.

"We completely lost track of you," Amaya said, studying her as she came to a halt. "What were you doing?"

Sara turned back around…but she was too late.

Malcolm Merlyn was gone.

"I saw...a ghost," she told them numbly, staring at the place where he'd stood. "Just a ghost."