#also i would've preferred if they hadn't moved school there were just too many new characters for me to get invested in them all

[jakeperalta]

truly did not expect to cry through so much of sex education s4 I'm

[firesoulstuff]

Detective / DJ with Captain Canary?

While West handles the questioning of the bartender Leonard lets his gaze wander. The Waverider is a hole in the wall, and while it's had it's share of police visits over the years, this is the first time the homicide unit has had to come down in quite some time.

He remembers coming here about a decade or so back, once or twice. He prefers the less populous Saints and Sinners, but that doesn't mean there weren't a few nights he ended up here back.

The place hasn't changed much, in fact the only change aside from ownership is the lack of change. The brick walls are still brown with age and carry the stains of spilled drinks. The dark wood of the bar is chipping, it's protective shellac peeling away. In the corner is still the cramped little DJ booth where Darren used to subject everyone to his "music". Ugh, he can still feel his ear threatening to bleed.

All of a sudden something seems to pop up just at the lip of the booth, on the inside. He glances back at his partner; she's deep in conversation with the bartender, they might be here awhile. He approaches the booth, rounding to the right side where one would step in.

What he saw was the top of a head.

There's a woman crouched underneath the counter, about his sister's age and with a nice set of headphones resting around her neck and pinning her blonde hair to her shoulders. She has a thumb drive between her fingers, and is scowling at it like it's offended her.

"I never understood why DJ's wear those." He says as he makes his approach, though he's certain she heard him coming from the first step. Nevertheless she glances up at his, and he gestures to her headphones.

"For mixing." She answers, standing up. "So I can make and edit playlists without annoying the ever-living crap out of everyone else. Two songs playing at once doesn't always make for a fun party."

He raises one eyebrow at that. He hadn't been expecting a logical answer, if she bothered to give him an answer at all.

"That must take focus." He observes, "I don't know if you were here last night, but if you were, I take it you would've been a little preoccupied to notice anything out of the ordinary."

She seems to size him up, her thumb drive now clutched firmly in her hand, a problem for later.

"It's called multi-tasking." She hums, her face stoic. With that she reaches up and puts her headphones properly over her ears, only to then adjust the left so that it's behind her ear like he's seen in so many movies, and then she taps her right ear still covered by the headphone.

"Edits." She says, then a tap for her left ear. "Crowd. I need to know what they're responding too, which is also what my eyes are for."

There are people Leonard has met throughout his life and career who could probably tell him this, and he would call bullshit. But from this woman he believes it. She has this look in her eye, like is just waiting to tell him what she saw last night while observing the crowd. But she'll only tell if he asks, nicely.

He holds out a hand.

"Detective Snart."

She smirks, and accepts the hand. "Sara Lance."

Leonard is nothing if not a man in excellent control of his movements at all times, particularly in response to new information. But Sara Lance. Of course, he should have known. The Captain's younger daughter. He's heard of her, but just in passing conversation between Quentin and Laurel. The gene for law enforcement skipped her. Wild child in high school, college dropout, worked a slew of different jobs for the past ten years.

That's what he's gathered from all the stories, but she knows exactly how this works and what kind of a clock they're working on. If she didn't have anything to offer, she would've told him already.

"See anything interesting in the crowd last night?"

She shrugs, glancing around the empty bar, like she's seeing last night's party all over again.

"Saw a woman pull her top up, and hold it there." He furrows his brow, but she moves on. "Long line for the ladies room, poor kid spill his drink all over himself."

"Anything relevant to the guy in your alleyway?" He asks, and the look she cuts him is a warning not to interrupt her.

Message received.

She turns her head over to the very far wall, just off the right of the bar.

"He hung back there all night. Never talked to anyone for more than a few seconds." Her eyes travel over to the front door, "Until his girlfriend came in."