He waves her off, "You know what I mean. If you want to be involved in... this," he puts a hand over the mark on his chest, "I've got to know what your skills are."

He sits back, shaking his head with a smile. "No, I like it. Harleen. Harleen," he tests it out with his typical precision, like memorizing a new word in a foreign tongue. "Thank you for telling me. You know my name already, of course. Gale... Dekarios." Saying it all together like that feels like admitting defeat, like Gale of Waterdeep is already dead, leaving behind his useless, powerless shadow. He tries not to let on, though, keen to prove that he isn't so sad about his own problems that he couldn't bear to hear hers. "Though..." It feels important to offer something in return for this piece of information, even though she already knows his worst secret. "No middle name. My middle name was my father's surname, but as far as I'm concerned, he took it with him when he left."