Deadshot was something of a lone wolf. He didn't like accepting help, it made him feel pathetic. He did his best work, took his best shots when he was alone. Nothing but him and a sniper. So I guess, by going to you, it showed how desperate he really was.

"Look." He sucked in a breath from beneath his mask. "I sure as hell don't want to work with you, and I know for a fact you don't want to work with me either. But if we want to take out the Bat, we have better chances together."

He let his eyes turn a little, scanning over Gotham's towering skyline. He had taken out dozens of hits. Politicians, criminals, people he didn't care to ask about. But this was the big one, the one that he couldn't afford to lose. He would kill the Bat, and he would get that damn money.

"I'll take the kill shot, but you help me orchestrate it. It'd be willing to give you..." he thinks a moment, "hell, a mil. If you put in the work to deserve it." Finally, he turned back to appraise you again. Was he happy about working with you? Hardly. As he said, he was a lone wolf. No regard for his own life, and sure as hell no one else's. But for his little girl, he'd be willing.