The year was 1925, the Era of Prohibition, the time of speakeasies, gangsters, and conservative reform. Leonard Snart sat on a metal bench outside a crowded automat, holding a hot dog which gave off steam in the cold autumn air. Around him stood towering blocks of brick buildings containing everything from crowded apartments, busy offices, and chemists with doors that led to underground bars. In more ways than one, it reminded him a lot of Central City, the concrete jungle which he considered both his playground and home. Perhaps, what even made him feel more at home were the noises of the everyday Manhattan hustle and bustle which seemed to come from every direction. Despite stoic sort, he quite enjoyed the cacophony of the city. According to his reasoning, it was easy not to get any unwanted attention in all of the booming rabble.

"Hey Leonard. How's the hot dog?" a voice came from behind him.

"Chilly." He replied coldly, not bothering to turn around.

Sara Lance walked up and sat at his side, turning to examine the apathetic expression on his face. It looked like he didn't care about what was happening, what was going to happen. That was what he looked like most of the time, or rather, chose to look like. But somehow Sara knew that the "Leonard" he presented to the world, that unflappable, selfish rogue, hid someone who was very different than what he seemed to be; although she could not tell at the time.

She was dressed in a white, long sleeved cardigan and a beige knee-length skirt. It wasn't exactly lavish but it was quite appropriate for an evening's walk in the city. She held a brown paper bag in her right hand, the words "Horn and Hardart" where printed on the side.

"Mmmmmmmm smells good." She said, as she opened the bag. "Automat burgers… Say what you want about Big Belly but literally don't make burgers like these anymore."

"There's a reason why that is so." He replied, his hot dog untouched.

"Look at you, too good for an automat. You know your food's gonna get cold right?"

"Yes I do. We should get going, Canary. Don't want to be late for our date at the Theatre."

"Oh, is this a date now?"

"It is whatever you want it to be."

They got up from the bench and started walking with the direction of the general crowd. Rip had given them fabricated tickets to see the "Pirates of Penzance", something which neither of the two held any interest in whatsoever. But if the mission required it, they wouldn't argue. As they followed the crowd, they could overhear a young couple beside them excitedly raving about the musical which they were obviously going to see. Leonard grinned, amused.

"Ah young love… they remind me of how I feel before a heist. You know what I mean?" He chuckled, the hot dog in his hand still uneaten.

"Can't say I do. The thought of assassination never really made me giddy." She said as she finished the rest of her burger.

"Not even once?"

"Not even once."

"Well you gotta have some pride in what you do, some of the time at least."

"Killing a person is still murder at the end of the day. No matter how justified."

"Sometimes it's the only way. I'm sure you know that… of all people."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

"Okay then. Did you know that the Empire State Building was constructed in 11 months and weighs 365,000 tons?"

"I did not know that."

"Fan-tastic! Now back to you killing people."

"Why do you want to talk about me? And how do you come across that bit of information?"

"Studied structural engineering in college. And because I'm interested."

"Why?"

"Because… Ms Lance, you are a very interesting person. Hence the interest. Do try to keep up."

"You went to college?"

"Community college, Dad said it would've helped with the thievery. And don't change the subject." Leonard grinned as he spoke. Sara was convinced that he had an ulterior motive.

"What's so interesting about me?" She frowned, looking at his face to see if she could determine what he was thinking.

"I would like to think that the both of us are very similar people. We are both very good at what we do. The only difference is that you don't exactly relish it as much as you should."

"You seem to relish what you do a little too much. Besides, stealing jewels isn't exactly killing."

"I do that on occasion as well… when the situation demands it."

"Yeah well, I don't have much choice when it's one of the only things I'm good at. It's pretty much the only reason I'm in this team."

"Which is why you should take some pride in it. I hear you complaining about yourself, how you're some kind of monster because there's a part of you that enjoys it."

"It's not a part of me, Leonard. It's all of me. Every single part of my being… I haven't been the same ever since the Lazarus Pit."

"Trust me, I've heard enough with the pit. What matters is who you are now."

Sara frowned, getting more and more sullen as the conversation continued. She didn't like to talk about it, not even with the people closest to her. Furthermore, it wasn't like she was particularly close to him in the first place. As far as she knew, he was a thief. A noble thief but a thief nonetheless. Yet somehow, she had a strong instinct that whatever he was trying to do, noble or not, had good intentions. If only she could've figured out what was it he wanted.

"What are you playing at Snart?" She looked sternly at him. He kept looking forward as if he was trying not to acknowledge her reaction to what he said.

"Sara…" He blinked twice. "I'm not playing at anything."

"Oh really? Because the last time I checked, you were a hardened criminal."

"What do you think that makes you?"

Sara stopped walking. Leonard continued a few steps forward before stopping. He turned his head to it's side, so as to view her from the corner of his eye.

"Don't talk to me like that." Sara said firmly. He kept quiet. The crowd kept moving. He looked forward and bent his head down.

"I'm sorry." He said in a tone she'd never thought he was capable of.

"Leonard…" She couldn't find the words to say what she wanted.

"You shouldn't suffer like that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"You're trying too hard to not be a monster. That's only making it more painful for you when you lose control."

"So I should accept it? Accept myself for the monster I am."

"You're not a monster."

Leonard turned around and stared straight into her blue eyes.

"We should get going. We don't want to miss the show." He held out his hand.

She stood still for a moment, processing the conversation she had just had in her head. She could see him clearly now, there was no ulterior motive. There was just him.

They walked slowly to the theater, not one of them spoke a single word to the other for the its duration. Sara was left alone to sort out her own thoughts and feelings, mostly her feelings. There was something special about the Manhattan air of the 1920s. Not that it was fresh or aromatic; on the contrary, it was ever so slightly foul and stale. But in a way, it was comforting. There was also the booming and buzzing of the everyday city life, hinted with the subtle tinge of the corruption and darkness that she was all too familiar with back in Starling City. That, in itself, was also comforting; to be familiar in an unfamiliar place.

Or maybe… it wasn't the city. Maybe it was something else. Something familiar yet unfamiliar. What was it, she wondered?

They stopped outside the theater entrance, its large metal doors adorned with gold and maroon limestone furnishings. Framing the entrance was a large balcony and on that balcony stood the words "Simon James" painted in a flashy silver on the top. The crowd seemed to dissipate around here; a lot less people were going in than the both of them had expected.

As the both of them settled into their seats, Sara put her head on Leonard's shoulder. With a long breath, she said,

"This isn't going to be a normal date is it?"

"We're not normal people." Leonard returned the gesture by putting his head on hers. "Now let's go kill that son of a bitch."