Rain shimmered across the neon-lit streets of Star City as Nyssa al Ghul stepped out of the corner market with a paper bag tucked beneath one arm, black coat buttoned high against the cold and posture as immaculate as ever despite the exhaustion hidden beneath it. She barely noticed the woman approaching from the opposite sidewalk until the scent hit her — warm, familiar, devastatingly calming in a way that made her entire nervous system short-circuit mid-step. Nyssa stopped so abruptly she nearly dropped the groceries. Daisy Carter blinked at her from beneath the streetlights, confused for all of half a second before recognition softened her expression, and Nyssa — former heir to an empire of assassins, survivor of a lifetime of discipline and control — completely panicked. “You need to come home with me,” she blurted immediately, voice low and urgent and utterly sincere. A beat passed. Nyssa froze. Daisy stared at her. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn sounded. Nyssa’s eyes widened a fraction too late as she realized how that had sounded. “Not—” She exhaled sharply through her nose, composure cracking in real time. “I meant your scent is distracting me to an unprofessional degree and I appear to have forgotten how conversations function.”