Artur- Punk and Witch

Leonardo Hamato was going to be the death of you.

When you first applied for this job, you had no idea exactly how it would play out. Oh, did you quickly learn.

Leonardo, brother of Donatello Hamato, CEO of Genius Built, was head of the Marketing Department. With his silver tongue, he oozed charisma and charm, setting up important meetings and closing business deals. He was the obvious choice for such a role. He was also downright full of himself, cocky as all hell, self-serving—most of the time—and completely insufferable.

You swore he sometimes tried to make your life more difficult, and that man never missed a shot.

Calling you at midnight because he couldn’t find his favourite shirt? You knew exactly where it was. Covering up the latest scandal he’d gotten himself into? You had the legal team on speed dial. Even completely ridiculous requests, such as finding this very specific brand of sparkling water. You’d had to go to three stores to find it, but you did—you did it all, and through it all, you wondered how in the heck someone like him was in such a highly respected position.

The thing about Leo, or Leon, as he preferred to be called, was that despite his carefree attitude and unrestrained nature, he was entirely competent when he wanted to be, scarily so. He did the job, and he did it well. Genius Built had skyrocketed in popularity under his leadership, and you couldn’t begrudge him for that.

You could, however, begrudge him for the number of women this man seemed to rake in. It seemed like every other week there was someone new. Girlfriends never lasted long with him. As soon as it came time for him to commit, he’d bail. There had been at least ten women (that you’d seen) in the year since you’d come to work for him—not that you were counting, because of course you weren’t. You’d rather not know at all, but he had no qualms about showing off how ‘popular’ he was

The man may have been a mutant turtle, but he was devastatingly handsome, and he knew it. Charm and good looks were his tools of the trade, and very few people were immune to his beguiling ways.

Not you, though. When you first got hired, he’d tried, just like Flynn Rider with the smoulder. Leon had tried flirtatiously sidling up next to you with promises of wining and dining you so the two of you could ‘get to know each other better’.

You shut that down immediately. You were there to work, and fraternizing with your boss was a complete faux pas. At first, you were offended that he’d even tried that with you. It took a few serious conversations for him to finally concede that he might be wrong. To his credit, there were no further attempts at ‘seduction’ from that moment forward.

He still infuriated you on a daily basis, though. Not only did you have your daily tasks, but you were also essentially babysitting a grown-ass man who somehow was stumbling his way through life in a very prestigious position.

For the most part, you were content with your work despite his ridiculous demands. It was temporary, after all.

This job was meant to be a stepping stone for you anyway. You were trying to climb the corporate ladder to a position of power and respect. You were a highly educated woman, and it was not your life’s dream to be an assistant to the one Leonardo Hamato.

You had no idea how much he admired you.

*****

Leonardo liked comfort and familiarity. Once he became comfortable with something, he wanted to hold on to it and never let it go. Not the most rational notion, but after the complete chaos of events leading up to and following the attack on the city, he needed something that did not require him to think too much.

You were an enigma, challenging him in ways he hadn’t expected. He was actually ashamed of himself for how he’d acted on that first week you were hired. Very quickly, he’d learned that you were not going to take any shit, especially from him.

…And he loved that about you.

But he knew your opinion of him wasn’t the greatest, so he did what he did best: he deflected, threw himself into his distractions, which more often than not happened to be other women.

It wasn’t his intention to have you believing he was a complete rake; it was easier for him to cast his mind to thoughts of you while being in the arms of another.

While he did occasionally send you off on a mundane task once in a while, he preferred the ones that made you come to him, especially in the off-hours. He relished in creating interactions where the two of you could just talk, and he’d tell you anything if you so much as asked about it.

Currently, he was pacing about his large walk-in closet in nothing but his white button-down and a pair of black boxers. You should consider yourself lucky he was clothed; you’d seen him in far less. You were tasked with choosing the perfect tie for him to wear at the upcoming conference, in which the two of you would be in attendance. Secretly, he believed having you there would bring him luck in closing the deal with a few key individuals.

You were asking him about the recent gala where he’d served as the bartender, and you nearly dropped every single one of the ties you had lined up on your arm when he told you what he’d said to his brother and his potential new girlfriend.

“Sir, you didn’t!” you’d gasped, “in front of Donnie and his date?! You have a death wish, don’t you?”

Leon laughed, completely disregarding your question while plucking a tie from your arm and holding it up to his neck. “Is this one too green? I feel like it will deflect from my natural emerald, don’t you think?”

Sighing in quite the long-suffering way you did every time he said something stupid, you peered at him, examining his face for a moment. “Well…judging from the fact you don’t look bruised, I’m guessing Donnie didn’t maim you after that lovely comment.”

“Oh, come on, Chiquita, it was all in good fun! Ol’ Dontron knew I wasn’t actually aiming to steal his girl, I was just giving him a little push, and it worked, you should’ve seen how they danced.” For a moment, he waltzed himself around the room, humming to the classical tune that had been playing before stopping in front of you.

You quickly fought away your blush as he leaned in close for a moment.

“He was aiming to kiss her on that dance floor and would have if not for the speeches.”

His face was so close to yours you could feel the soft puff of his breath on your forehead, gently stirring up the fine hairs on your head that had managed to free themselves from your bun.

“And…they left together, and I know he stayed the night.”

Slowly, you drew back, coughing slightly from the awkward implication and bringing it back to your original point.

“Still, Sir, that is no excuse for what you said. Apologize to her.”

“It’s no big deal, she knew I wasn’t—”

You nearly whipped a tie at his face as you pursed your lips in annoyance. “You blatantly flirted with her, knowing that she was there with your brother, embarrassed her, and you're assuming she’s just fine with that? You'd better apologize, Leonardo Hamato.”

“Ooh, I like it when you get feisty…”

That comment earned him an eye roll and a disapproving click of your tongue. Much like a parent with their child, you fixed him with a pointed stare while crossing your arms expectantly. This was your superpower: he rarely listened to anyone, but he would listen to you.

“Fine! I’ll apologize…” he huffed. “Eventually,” he added quietly.

Nodding, you presented him with a blue tie, his favourite, and the one that went with everything. “This is the one. Pair with the grey, pinstriped suit.”

He beamed, taking it and placing it on the suit in question. “This is why I love ya.” He smirked, teasing you a bit.

You let out the faintest hint of a laugh as you reached to grab your purse and coat. “Will that be all for tonight, Sir?”

“…Yes.” Did you detect a hint of reluctance in his voice? “Thank you, and enjoy your weekend, do something fun for yourself.” Softly, he added, “You deserve it.”

With your back to him halfway to his door, you turned slightly and smiled, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Leon,” he corrected, though he knew you’d never call him anything but Sir as long as you kept the boss-and-personal-assistant dynamic. You’d drawn that line in the sand the minute you began working for him, but he still tried, hoping to hear his name on your lips. When he didn’t, he added, “Goodnight, mi querida.”

“…Goodnight.” You replied, softer this time, nodding before heading home to your apartment. Curse him for being infuriating one moment and sweet the next. He was still a complete rake, with enough scandals under his belt to make the National Enquirer blush. Another would seriously affect the company. No, you couldn’t allow yourself to be drawn in like those other women; you had more self-respect than that, and nothing was going to jeopardize your position at this company.

It was better to keep your head down. You could endure the Spanish terms of endearment and get the man his chai latte, not from the Starbucks directly across from the building, but from a locally owned coffee shop several blocks down the street, tucked neatly inside a little bookshop—a blink-and-you’d-miss-it place. You’d taken to leaving for work fifteen minutes early just to give yourself extra time to get his drink order from this place because Starbucks didn’t do it right.

Picky bastard, he was lucky you liked the extra walk and found the bookstore adorable. You’d gotten several good books from there as well.

When prompted, Leo would say he preferred supporting small business owners, which you did believe was true. Picky with a purpose, because you’d come to learn that behind every action appeared to be a well-thought-out plan. Some you still couldn’t verify, but with everything he did, there was some kind of ulterior motive.

It was as though he had a plan for every conceivable outcome. He liked to be prepared, taking everything into account before committing. He was the one who looked for all the possible ways to exit a room upon entering. At the same time, however, he could appear totally unhinged and nearly impossible to rein in. He was the very definition of "if he wanted to, he would."

There was so much more to Leonardo Hamato than what lay just below the surface, and though you didn’t know it yet, the walls were all about to come crashing down. A figurative tornado of emotions, ready to sweep you off your feet.

And it all began with an elevator.

*****

On top of being your daily pain in the ass, Leon Hamato was the self-proclaimed office prankster. Most of his pranks were juvenile annoyances, like unplugging all the USB sticks for the mice or taping air horns under their adjustable office chairs. No one was safe, especially not you, and anyone willing to retaliate by pranking him was praised. Leo loved being pranked almost as much as he enjoyed pranking others. Not from you, however, even though you were on the receiving end of many of them.

This particular day had begun with you fussing over his outfit and matching tie while scolding him yet again for pranking the Treasurer by swapping the ink cartridges in his fountain pens from blue to red. All those documents would need to be redone with the correct ink colour. He also encased your fob key in Jell-O. He knew it was your favourite flavour and probably assumed you could eat your way to it.

You and Leon were on your way to a board meeting a few floors up. The heads of the department were convening for the monthly debriefing to discuss how finances would be allocated over the next four weeks.

It wasn’t as if you had to accompany him; assistants were not required. However, in pure Leonardo fashion, he’d insisted on having you there with him. Since his twin brother was the CEO, he could pretty much get away with most things. His requests for a personal sauna for his office and the staffroom candy bar had been swiftly shot down, though.

When confronted about the fob key prank, he blew out a soft huff of air and shrugged. “Couldn’t have been me. What proof do you have?”

You gave him the most deadpan look you could manage. “I know it was you, no one else in the office knows blueberry Jell-O is my favourite.”

“You wound me, cariña,” he gasped, clutching his hand to his chest dramatically. “To think I would dare such a thing…it cuts me deeply.”

You were already pushing his dramatic ass into the elevator, ending his little display of amateur theatre with a sigh of exasperation. “Uh-huh, I feel so broken up at that notion. Now get in, or we’ll be late.”

This, he allowed you to do, straightening up once the doors closed and the elevator began moving.

“Aaaanyway, didja see that episode of So You Think You Can Dance?” He began rambling on about his favourite dances, seemingly completely unbothered, while crossing his arms behind his head as the elevator went up. He paced around, stumbling a bit on his black dress shoes, causing you to do your best to hide your smirk and soft snort of laughter.

“I saw that.” He smirked, presenting you with a particularly knowing grin, eyebrows raised, like a dog about to run for the stick that was about to be thrown.

“You saw nothing, Sir.” You replied, maintaining your composure as best you could.

“Uh huh…you think I’m funny, I knew it all along.” He chuckled to himself triumphantly.

Again, you rolled your eyes, giving him a small grin of your own. “Very well, Sir, considering slapstick is the lowest form of comedy, you’re hilarious.”

Although he didn’t say so, he loved it when you challenged him, craved it even. “Then I’ll just have to try a little harder,” He’d turned to you, looking down on you smugly, bringing his face a little closer to yours.

For a long moment, you held his gaze, a greenish-brown that was both warm and inviting. There was a certain softness in his eyes reserved only for you, and you feared you’d drown in them if you stayed a few seconds longer.

That was the exact moment you both felt the elevator stutter and stop completely with a jolt. In the shock of it all, you’d grabbed onto his upper arms while he laughed, resisting the urge to pull you closer to his chest.

The power had obviously been cut, leaving only the emergency lights on. Being the strategist he was, Leon was already assessing the situation as he gently patted your shoulders. “Calm, mi vida. It’s just a power outage. I’m sure they’ll fix it momentarily.”

“S-sorry, Sir,” you said, backing away from him, slightly embarrassed you’d reached for him at all.

“No need to apologize, it looks like we have some time to kill.” He was already removing his suit jacket and placing it on the elevator floor.

Assuming it was meant for him to sit down, you prepared to remain standing, unwilling to sit on the questionable floor of this elevator. “I suppose we do.” You crossed your arms and sighed softly to yourself. Given how long it could take to fix the elevator, standing for an indeterminate amount of time in your heels would not be a pleasant experience.

You jumped slightly as he cleared his throat. “For the lady, please sit.” He was gesturing like a gentleman, but, as with everything this man did, it was exaggerated to the point of being ridiculous, and your first inclination was to refuse out of pride for yourself.

“I’m fine.” You replied stiffly.

“Very well.” Shrugging, he sank to the floor beside his abandoned jacket. “Great view of your legs from here,” he noted casually, laughing when your hands found the edges of your skirt and your face coloured with a blush.

That asshole. You knew he wouldn’t stop until you listened to him, and you cursed yourself for the pencil skirt and blouse combo you’d chosen to wear that day. You groaned inwardly, carefully lowering yourself to the floor and gingerly settling on the smooth silk of the inner lining.

“That was easy,” he crossed his arms and leaned back in a more reclined position, settling in comfortably.

You didn’t note the way his eyes followed the curve of your soft thighs, and the way your skirt rode up just a little as you sat yourself down on his jacket. You’d busied yourself with getting as comfortable as you could while maintaining your professional demeanour.

After a few seconds of silence, you suddenly realized something in a moment of frustration. “Aren’t you a ninja? With powers? Can’t you get us out of here?”

That jerk just laughed, making no move to do anything. “…Mmmaybe, but I think it might be safer to wait it out.” Unbeknownst to you, he had an inkling that his twin was behind this, payback for the fact that he still hadn’t apologized for the gala yet. “I couldn’t very well ‘ninja my way out’ without taking off my suit anyway, and I don’t have my swords. You that eager to see me stripped down to my skivvies?”

“No,” you scoffed, muttering, having already seen him in such a state by accident in the past. “Some ninja you are.”

Leon didn’t respond, just remained completely unbothered while watching you with amusement.

“Great,” you groaned softly. “You’re definitely not making that meeting, and that’s going to push back your phone appointment, and then you have an interview…your lunch break will have to be pushed and—.”

“Whoa, whoa, be calm, querida, I’m the boss man, remember? I call the shots around here, and I say I’m indisposed for the next hour.” He relaxed again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Very well…” You tapped the toe of your heel on the floor. “Now, what do we do?”

“We could talk.” He suggested, as if it were the most obvious choice. “You know, talking, the thing people do to get to know each other.”

“You know me.” You deflected, averting your gaze.

“Do I? All I really know is that you like blueberry jello and hate my pranks. You get this little grin when I make my appointments on time and the day’s events move in an orderly fashion. You also find me completely insufferable, and your nose scrunches up when you sass me.” He chuckled softly.

You tried not to outwardly sputter and turned to him slightly with a clear look of indignation on your features. “Because you are! You have no regard for your schedule; you just do whatever your little heart desires. You send me out on the most asinine errands and call me up at midnight for the dumbest reasons! And then there’s your personal life! I’ve had to call your legal team twice last month! Did you really need to be caught with the girlfriend of the CEO of our rival company in his limo?!”

Without meaning to, like a rubber band that had been stretched too tight, you’d snapped; you couldn’t stop yourself and poured out every last one of your frustrations as you were trapped in this stupid elevator with him.

“Sometimes I don’t even know why you hired me!” You’d crossed your arms and turned away again, cursing yourself silently. Now he was going to fire you, you idiot.

The elevator was uncomfortably silent for a minute or so until Leon started laughing, not just a chuckle but a full-on belly laugh, until he was practically crying. “That was great,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Do you feel better now?”

Once the shock wore off, you nodded. Strangely, you did feel better and released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. “Yes, Sir…” pausing, you added, “I like…reading, I like that little bookstore you make me walk to every day for your chai latte. I like watching romantic movies and nerdy ones. I love reality shows like Dancing with the Stars and Nailed It. I have a cat named Bluebell, and prefer tea over coffee.” You shrugged slowly. “That’s the gist of it, happy?”

“Very.” He replied, grinning ear-to-ear, before leaning in close. “I feel very close to you right now.” Raising one eye-ridge flirtatiously, he continued. “I say we discuss this further, over dinner…happy ending guaranteed.”

This ass, you could smack him, “Sir!” You pushed gently on his chest while trying to hide your blush. “Please, that was not an invitation for…that.”

Pulling back, he rumbled out another laugh. “I know, querida, I was kidding.” Getting relaxed once again, he crossed one leg over the other before continuing. “And I am sorry, I don’t mean for you to always be the one to clean up my messes. I’ll do better.”

You peered suspiciously at him, looking for signs that he may be lying. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“You deserve it, and as for why I hired you? You’re the best.” He answered simply.

You hid your smile, nodding quietly. “Thank you, Sir.”

For the next forty-five-ish minutes, you talked, really talked. Leon was especially chatty, even letting certain things slip, making you privy to some of his innermost secrets. You’d had no idea the man had an affinity for romantic comedies—the cornier, the better. He now knew you liked watching them too—mostly because you enjoyed picking them apart and exposing obvious plotlines. It wasn’t just collecting Jupiter Jim memorabilia and bingeing those movies. Leon was a huge nerd in many ways.

“Don’t tell anyone, Chiquita, it could ruin my ‘impeccable’ reputation.” He said, placing a dramatic hand on his chest.

You snorted softly, rolling your eyes slightly, “Don’t worry, Sir. I’ll keep your ‘guilty pleasure’ under wraps.”

“This is why you’re the best.” He said it so easily, with confidence, expressing how much he appreciated you. Something within you began to soften. He really wasn’t as annoying as you’d originally thought.

You were so lost in conversation that he startled you by suddenly standing. “Yo, Donnie, I think you’ve had your fun. I’ll apologize, alright, I promise.”

The elevator abruptly began to move, still on its journey upward even though the meeting would’ve been concluded by now. Leo strolled on out like he owned the place, with you following close behind.

“Could you have said that at any time?!” you hissed.

“Yep, knew it was DonTron messing with me.” He was so nonchalant about it, heading to the boardroom to see his brother exiting. The two shared a knowing look, a silent understanding between the twins that you couldn’t decipher if you tried. Donnie handed him his notes, and that was it. He abruptly turned and handed them to you before heading back to the elevator.

“Welp, that’s that, a job well done!”

“B-bu—” you managed, quickly following after him. “That’s it?”

“Yep! Go ahead and take five.” He pushed the button and waited.

“O-okay, Sir.” You shuffled the papers in your hands and took a breath. Watching the numbers slowly illuminate floor by floor, the idea of taking the elevator suddenly became less than appealing. “Um, Sir?” You lightly tapped him, causing him to tilt his head down to look at you.

“Can we take the stairs?”

*****

Your head was pounding, and for once it wasn’t related to anything Leon had done. You were sick; your sinuses were sore, your nose was blocked, and your voice sounded unrecognizable because your vocal cords were red and swollen. You had already called in sick for the next few days and sent Leon your notes and the updates to his schedule. You told him specifically not to call you for anything; he either needed to be dying or the world ending.

He, for the most part, had been surprisingly respectful of your request. It seemed he recognized that you were genuinely ill and was giving you the time you needed to recover. It was nice… and yet you were still somewhat suspicious of how quiet he was being.

While sitting shivering on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, you sneezed, wincing as the action made you feel as though you were swallowing shards of glass. This sucked. You could barely muster the energy to feed yourself, and moving in any direction made your head feel worse.

A knock on your apartment door made you groan. “Please go away…” You murmured.

A moment later, you heard the door unlock and slowly open. Blearily, you wondered who could’ve had your key. You’d only given it to one close friend in the case of an emergency and…Leon. Oh, no.

“Sir?” You squeaked out, slowly turning your head to see that it was indeed him. After closing your door, he started making his way into your small kitchen.

“Don’t talk, no need to strain your voice,” he said, placing several bags on your counter.

Instead of heeding his request, you shifted slightly to see what he was doing. “You didn’t have to come…I’m fine…just gotta wait it out.”

“Querida, what kind of boss would I be if I knew my faithful assistant was gravely ill?” He was pulling out what appeared to be a thermos, a box of tea, and a jar of honey. From the other bag, he removed cold medication and lozenges.

“What is all that?”

Putting on his best Lou Jitsu impression, he gestured dramatically to the little silver thermos. “Hooot SOUP! Courtesy of Mikey.” He declared proudly. “Chicken noodle, homemade of course and just the thing for this nasty cold to go bye-bye.”

Before you could protest, the man was filling up one of your bowls and bringing it over to where you sat. He was surprisingly gentle as he placed the bowl in your hands, helping you adjust before asking, “You got it?” Maybe it was the fever making you delirious, but the way he spoke was creating all kinds of nice feelings in your belly.

“Got it, thank you…” You rasped, taking the spoon to your lips and blowing off the steam before giving it a taste. “Mm…” the soup was good, really good. Thankfully, you still retained this of your five senses so you could enjoy every spoonful.

Leon looked pleased once you had eaten the whole bowl. You declined the offer of a second bowl, so he made you a cup of tea instead. “Now, you know I don’t like to brag…” You snorted at this, “but this little blend is what I like to call: The Coldinator.” He added a tablespoon of honey to the cup and stirred. “Did I ever tell you about Dad’s rat flu? This tea was a lifesaver.”

He hadn’t, and you shook your head at him, giving him the go-ahead to begin a tale, the likes of which you’d never heard before. The tea was actually quite pleasant, the honey added a hint of sweetness and soothed your throat.

“Don’t worry, Donnie created a vaccine a long time ago.” He snorted softly. “Can you imagine the onslaught of chaos if that were ever to hit the general public?”

You shook your head, unwilling to speak any longer since it was far too painful. You winced again as even turning your head caused you pain, and you closed your eyes in discomfort.

Not only did Leon notice, but he was also immediately up, rifling through one of the bags for something else. Moments later, a pill and a glass of water were being carefully pushed into your hands. “Here. Take one of these, and then it’s time for you to sleep.”

You took it, realizing it was an Advil cold and sinus tablet and realized you’d need to go to the bathroom first before sleep.

Gingerly, you moved to stand, and quick as a flash, Leon was right there, helping you stand and dutifully walking you to the bathroom. Thankfully, he did let you handle that on your own, but stood like a sentry on the other side, waiting for you to come out. After finishing your business, you were helped into bed and tucked in at that. Your body was shivering again at the sudden change in temperature. Your warm blankets on the couch had been swapped with room-temperature sheets, and you whimpered softly as a cool hand was placed on your forehead.

“You’re burning up, querida…the medicine should help.”

All you could manage was a nonsensical reply as your body finally calmed and you closed your eyes. With sleep on the horizon, you began to drift off. You could have chalked it up to a fever dream, but you swore you felt the press of a soft pair of cool lips on your forehead just before sleep claimed you.

You were out like a light for the next eight hours.

As you woke, you still weren’t completely recovered—not like you’d be magically cured after one night, like in the cartoons—but you did feel slightly better, your headache wasn’t as bad, and you were able to pull yourself out of bed and wrap yourself in a fluffy blanket before shuffling into the hall.

You half-expected Leon to be gone, but what surprised you more than seeing him sleeping deeply on your couch was that your main room was spotless. Everything was so clean; the mess he’d made on your counter was gone. All the cold medicine had been gathered in a neat little pile, your dirty dishes had been cleaned, and there was a fresh teabag in your cup, with hot water in your kettle on the keep-warm setting.

Just as you were about to pour water into the cup, a quiet snort from the couch made you jump. Turning—slowly because you still had a slight headache—you saw your boss, limbs stretched out, one leg on the couch, and one leg off, with one of your throw blankets wrapped haphazardly around his middle. He was softly snoring and still dressed in his rumpled shirt. A few of the top buttons had come undone, revealing a peek of his sunny yellow plastron beneath. His turtle anatomy had always been a source of fascination to you, and aside from the occasional clothing mishap…you did not see much more than his face or hands on a daily basis.

It amused you that he and his brothers used to gallivant around the city practically naked when they were teens. Nowadays, clothes were their standard way of being as they lived their lives as citizens of New York. There was something quietly intimate about seeing him like this, vulnerable, and his rambling mouth quiet for once.

He was also murmuring in his sleep, and it suspiciously sounded like your name. What could he be dreaming about?

“Please, mi amor…please put me out of my misery…”

A slow smile crept across your face as you stopped to listen.

“You always stack the papers so nice…oops, dropped my pen, get it for me…bend over…just like that…your ass is so pretty…”

Your cheeks were aflame now. Was he serious?! A fantasy that involved you picking up his pen?! His sleep talking would just get more ridiculous as you continued to listen.

“Gimme a slice of that cake…you’re like a sexy Viennetta.”

This time, you nearly choked on your own spit, trying not to laugh when you saw one of his eyes slowly crack open. Quickly, you turned to go back into the kitchen, hiding your face as he slowly sat up, yawning.

“Hey…feeling better?”

“Yep!” You answered much too quickly. “I’m much better…” Your voice still had a decent rasp to it, but you at least felt less like you were dying.

“Good, now, sit, I’m making you breakfast.” He rose, giving his body a good stretch that had you sneaking a glance, and then he was shooing you out of your kitchen, ignoring your protests that you could do it yourself.

“B-but, Sir! Don’t you have…” You’d been effectively sent to timeout on your couch as you peeked at your phone, gasping softly. “You have a meeting in five minutes!”

“Not important,” he winked back, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “They’ll just have to wait.” He was searching through your cupboards and exclaimed with a quiet ‘aha’ as he found what he was looking for. Your bag of quick oats hit the counter with a soft thud as he went to search for a measuring cup next.

You were trying to quell your anxiety. Although you appreciated him coming over to take care of you, it wasn’t as if you wanted him to jeopardize important shareholder meetings on your account.

“Calm, chiquita, I already rescheduled it.” It was as though he’d sensed your discomfort, highly aware of how much you disliked the schedule being deviated from.

“…Oh.” You relaxed a bit, not expecting him to actually think ahead.

“Don’t sound so surprised, I can take care of things if I need to.” He said, slowly stirring the oatmeal on the stove.

“Of course.” You answered quietly. There were a lot of thoughts swirling around in your head currently, as you wrapped the blankets more tightly around yourself.

Minutes later, he was presenting you with a bowl of oatmeal that he’d already added milk to and topped with a sprinkling of brown sugar. He sat with his own bowl nearby and watched you begin to eat.

“I will need to be going soon,” he said between bites. “I know, I know, don’t miss me too much,” he teased.

“I’ll be okay.” You promised, giving him a smile. “Fine by Monday.”

He was smiling as he finished off his bowl of oatmeal. “If you aren’t, let me know. I need my assistant to be in top shape. We have that conference coming up.”

“Yes, of course, I’ll be good for it.” You ate more slowly, relieved he’d gone with something easy to swallow.

The meal was finished quietly, and Leon did the dishes before straightening up and preparing to leave.

“Arrivederci,” he bid you farewell with a swooping bow and added in a more serious tone, “Please take care of yourself, mi querida.”

You caught his gaze, answering back in your own tone of no-nonsense. “I will, Sir.”

He departed after that, and you were left alone with your thoughts, time to process all that had just happened. What was happening? Why was he suddenly so... caring? After all, this was Leon — self-absorbed, arrogant, and a pain in your neck. The man who had just dropped everything to take care of you for the past twenty-four hours revealed a very different side of him, one you hadn’t known existed. Clearly, there were many more layers to him than you'd realized.

You were going to need to keep a closer eye on him.

*****

In the weeks following your recovery, you’d watched Leon for any other odd changes to his behaviour.  While not odd, per say, you did notice he’d been behaving himself and hadn’t done much to make your life more difficult; instead, he’d spent all of his time preparing for the business trip that was in a few days.

You’d been preparing for the trip as well. It wasn’t as though you could refuse, nor did you want to. The good behaviour had intrigued you, and you were curious to see how it played out on this business trip. In the past, he’d never really taken them seriously and always ended up stumbling back to his hotel room with some floozy on his arm. Somehow, he’d also managed to give his presentation perfectly, which infuriated you to some degree.

This time, it looked to be different, but you weren’t going to hold your breath.

The journey went smoothly enough. The flight was on time, you had first-class seats, and spent the better part of it with your nose buried in one of the books you’d brought with you. At one point, Leon had convinced you to watch a movie with him. It was another one of those cheesy romantic comedies, the type you could scoff at for how predictable it was. Like before, it became a sort of game with the two of you trying to successfully guess what would occur next.

From there, the cab ride to the hotel went relatively quickly. It was around 4pm, and you had the rest of the evening to prepare and rest up. Your room was clean with fresh, crisp sheets on the bed and the signature chocolate on the pillow. Leon’s room was right across the hall; he’d booked it that way on purpose, preferring to have you close just in case.

After freeing your top sheet and duvet from their tightly folded corners and toeing off your shoes, you’d flopped into bed and fell asleep minutes later.

A light tapping on your door roused you hours later, and you quietly made your way to the door, only to open it and see Leon with a tray in his hands.

“Evening, sleeping beauty, thought you could use some dinner.” His mouth quirked into a grin as he surveyed you. “Love the bedhead look, so chic, wish I had hair so I could replicate it.”

You blinked owlishly as you realized he was teasing you and chuckled softly. “I think you could pull it off.” Stepping back, you moved to let him set the tray on the table.

“Nah, tried it once, looked fabulous, but the hair was an evil kleptomaniac, which kinda put a damper on things.”

You decided not to question him further on that little tidbit of information and instead sat down to see what he brought you.

The smell was so good that it had your mouth watering instantly. It was a pasta dish, simple but delicious, with bowtie noodles in a creamy rose sauce, sliced chicken breast, and a triangle of garlic bread. You half-expected him to invite himself in to chat while you ate, but he didn’t. To your surprise, he left, citing the need to finish preparing for his presentation.

 What was going on?

The real test would come the following day, after he finished his presentation—he aced it, of course, despite some xenophobia during the question period—and you both had the rest of the evening free. Typically, you’d both have a few drinks. Leon would find a piece of eye candy to latch onto, while you would eventually go back to your hotel room alone.

You were bracing yourself for it this time. Seeing him with other women was disheartening in a way you could not quite explain. It brought the feeling of something heavy settling in the pit of your stomach, a leaden weight that refused to be moved. You’d tried reasoning with yourself that he was an adult and that it was none of your business what he did in his spare time, but it felt almost like a slap in the face nonetheless.

One of these times, you’d be the one to take someone up to your hotel room.

Take that, Leon.

You were sitting at the hotel bar’s polished marble counter and on your second drink when she walked in. You recognized her right off as a member of the conference and exactly Leon’s type—tall, legs for days, and blonde with an air of sophistication. She’d already been eyeing your boss, still finely dressed in his pinstriped suit and tie, and was heading his way. The two of you weren’t sitting together at the bar by chance. He’d arrived after you and was now chatting with that woman.

Here we go.

Turning away, you sighed softly as you swirled the contents of your cocktail and took another sip.

“May I join you?”

You swallowed a gasp as a smooth-talking man slipped into the seat beside you.

“Um, sure.” You replied, giving him a smile.

He ordered you a drink, and the two of you got to talking. He was also attending the conference, and his business was based elsewhere in NYC. You couldn’t help but notice how sweet and charming he was, and thought perhaps this was your chance.

You did not notice Leon sporting a menacing glare in his direction from across the bar. He was barely able to attend to the leggy blonde in front of him and was practically grinding his teeth as you stood with the man at the bar and accepted his invitation to dance.

The blonde was trying her hardest to bring his attention back to herself. “I like dancing.” She declared in hopes that he’d say something along those lines instead of watching his eyes follow his assistant and the man from the bar.

“Let’s dance then.” His answer was clipped as he abruptly stood and took her hand.

“Oh!” She gasped, practically being dragged there. She had already surmised that this was his eagerness in trying to close the deal with her, and was more than happy to comply.

Leon just wanted to get as close to you as possible.

Now, it’s possible you were a little tipsy at this point, with three drinks under your belt and not in the greatest of headspaces. You got caught up with the fact that someone was giving you attention for once. You were inadvertently making Leo jealous, too. Good, see how he liked it.

Within an hour of meeting this guy, you were allowing him to pull you into his embrace as you slowly danced around with the other couples.

Softer, jazzy type music was playing from a live band, and you were quietly chatting with Guy while you slowly moved around the dance floor. He seemed nice enough and genuinely interested, and it didn’t take him long to slip you an extra room key in hopes you’d make your way up there.

Your heart was pounding as you watched him walk away and clutched the little card close while marvelling at the opportunity suddenly presented to you. An invitation for sex that might as well have been served on a silver platter.

None of this went undetected as Leon was following your every move. The moment you left the lounge, he was hot on your heels. Jealously and protectiveness had outweighed all sense of logic at this point, and soon he was stopping those elevator doors just as they were closing to get on with you.

“Heyyy, chiquitita, off to bed? I’d be more than pleased to escort you.” His jovial nature this time seemed a bit forced, and you narrowed your gaze slightly.

“Actually…I’m heading somewhere else.” You hedged, raising an eyebrow at him. “What happened to Miss tall, blond and ditzy?”

It was a challenge, and he knew it; still, he tried to play it off. “She was fine, not my taste today.”

 Time was running out for him to stop you as the elevator doors opened. “Oh, what a shame, well, here’s my stop.” You were ready to step around him when his arm shot out next to your head while his forearm pressed against the cool brushed aluminum wall, effectively caging you in.

“Wait.” He implored softly, now showing you the barest hint of vulnerability. “Don’t go to him. If a release is all you’re needing, then—”

You pushed hard against his chest, suddenly furious with him as the elevator doors quietly slipped shut.

“You are unbelievable! The one time a guy notices me, and you pull this shit? Screw you, and this stupid, jealous crap you’re trying to pull.”

His expression conveyed both shock and awe as you laid into him, but he did back up to give you space while the elevator climbed to the next floor, both yours and his.

“I was just looking out for you.” He tried, the excuse was weak, and you both knew it. It did very little to quell the flames of discontent within you.

“No, screw you and the stupid, fucking double standard. So, it’s fine if you go off screwing every pair of legs that gives you the time of day, but the one time—the ONE time I try it, you—”

“That was before!” he interjected, finally losing his cool and throwing his arms down.

“Before what?!” you demanded, and when he didn’t answer you right away, you asked again, louder this time. “Before. What?!”

“Before I started to care about you!” he finally exclaimed, and the doors opened on a little old couple trying to get down to the lobby. Neither of you had gotten off at your floor, so the elevator had gone back down again.

You and Leon had fixed each other with tense expressions while the little old man and woman chatted sweetly with each other. You were still trying to process what he just said. Maybe he was messing with you? He’d had a few drinks up until this point; was it a drunken mistake? No, drunk words are sober thoughts after all, and you were forced to consider that maybe, he might possibly be telling the truth.

Leon cared about you. He didn’t want you going off to some random man’s room when he was right there to give you what you needed. That still didn’t excuse the fact that he was being a complete asshat about it.

You huffed softly, crossing your arms as the couple walked off, and Leon quietly pressed the button for your floor again. To your surprise, he also pressed the bottom to the floor your ‘date’ was waiting on.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said. “You’re right, and it’s none of my business who you decide to spend your off-hours with. My suggestion was callous and fueled by unfounded jealousy,” he sighed softly and continued, “I want you to be happy, but please be careful, you don’t know this guy, although I would hazard a guess that he’s not a bad guy.”

You relaxed, visibly as you nodded. “Thank you, Leon.”

He smiled then, “That’s the first time you called me Leon instead of Sir.”

Blushing and scrambling for an excuse, you said, “Ha, it’s just because I’ve had a few…don’t read too much into it.”

Once again, elevator doors opened, and this time, Leon stood aside. He said nothing more as he watched you finally exit the elevator. His gaze never wavered even as the doors slowly closed and you glanced back, one last time.

You huffed softly to yourself as you slowly walked down the hall. Stupid Leon…who does he think he is? How dare he? He thinks he can just…

In the midst of your fuming, you’d ended up right at the door of your supposed date. Your heart was pounding; the key had been retrieved from your pocket, yet you were unable to complete the final motion of tapping it against the sensor to unlock the door.

This is stupid, just do it!

You were still in the same spot a minute later, frozen and becoming increasingly self-conscious of anyone seeing you.

Swallowing a groan of frustration, you had to admit, the thrill of engaging in a one-night stand with a perfect stranger was less than appealing, and when you pictured yourself in a lover's embrace, someone else came to mind. He had a cocky grin, emerald-green skin and two red crescents cutting across each eye.

You were doomed, but you felt guilty about not going, so instead you went back down to the hotel bar to find the blonde from earlier. You slipped the keycard into her hand on the pretense that it belonged to Leon and dropped the floor and room number for the man you were with earlier. Someone might as well be getting laid tonight.

Five minutes later, you were knocking on Leon’s door. It was dumb, and you certainly didn’t need to do this, but you felt compelled to let him know you’d changed your mind.

He opened the door with a look of concern, shirtless with a pair of grey sweatpants on.

You spoke first, complete with a dramatic shrug. “I didn’t go, alright? Are you happy now?”

He was more than happy , so much in fact that he crossed the distance between you, slipped his hand around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss with enough passion to make your head spin.

Your first instinct was to wrap your arms around him and try to take control of the kiss, and he was more than happy to oblige, angling his mouth to kiss you more deeply. You just wanted to feel something good for a change, a choice that was more or less influenced by the alcohol you’d consumed earlier, but also sheer stubbornness.

Unfortunately, logic had to rear its ugly head as you felt Leon trying to guide you into his room and close the door behind you. The click was enough to make you pull back and take a breath, catching his lust-filled gaze with your own. This…couldn’t happen, you’d fought so hard to maintain a professional relationship with him, and now here you were about to toss it all out the window.

This couldn’t happen…

But fuck, you wanted it to.

“Something wrong, mi amor?” he brushed the side of your cheek with his fingertips and cradled the back of your head with his other hand. Those hands held so much promise, the hidden pleasures they could bring and yet you were about to refuse him.

“I…can’t, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…kissed you back.” Gently, you pushed on his chest, and he released you. Let it be said that Leon was a man of his word and would never coerce a woman into sleeping with him. He didn’t need to. Still, there was a hint of regret in his eyes as he let you go.

“Querida?” He questioned, looking concerned. “I’m sorry, I’m the one who shouldn’t have—”

You didn’t blame him, but you also didn’t give him much more time to explain himself; instead, you backed out of his room quickly – a soft blush covering your cheeks as you made your retreat. “Goodnight, Leon.”

Back in your own room, you flopped on the bed with a groan. “What is wrong with you…?” Now you had no one to warm your bed. Stupid Leon for making you feel all conflicted, and damn him for being a good kisser and making you question everything.

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the fact that you found him attractive and, dare you say it, actually liked him. He was still a pain in your ass, but he’d sort of changed lately. He didn’t even entertain that woman who’d been flirting with him.

It was not typical behaviour for him, and now that kiss…you felt all twisted up inside. A month ago, you’d decided that enough was enough and you needed to take that next step up the ladder, so you’d started applying for jobs and had actually gotten an interview. This potential job would be a game-changer, a chance to really show off what you could do. And it wasn’t as if you could have a relationship with Leon anyway in your current state, and he was not the type of man you’d typically go for.

Now, your rational mind was pointing out the hard facts you simply could not ignore. He couldn’t possibly have feelings for you; you weren’t his type, either. You’d both been drinking, caught up in the moment, that was all it was. You were colleagues, work partners, and that’s all you ever would be.

All you ever could be.

**

“You’re hired, you can start as soon as your new hire paperwork is submitted.”

Hearing those words filled you with a sense of elation. You couldn’t believe you’d gotten the job. Out of all the candidates, they’d chosen you. Now all you had to do was complete the paperwork and submit your two weeks' notice…to Leon, who had no idea you were going to be leaving him.

You couldn’t afford to be weak now. This was your career, and nothing was going to stand in your way, not even him.

You pondered the best way to broach the subject as you began typing up your letter of resignation.

There would be no easy way to tell him. Better to rip the band-aid off and leave it on his desk Monday morning, along with his morning latte. He’d understand… wouldn’t he? Would he even care? Would your absence be felt, like a wound needing to be stitched and bandaged? Would he be happy for you, hiding a deep ache every time he walked by your empty desk?

His reaction was far different from what you’d expected. The look of confusion when he was presented with the letter had quickly been replaced by a cold sort of understanding he wasn’t adept at hiding.

He was happy for you, he said, barely reading it before tossing it back on his desk. You could no longer read him after that, but you could glean from his tone that he was not as pleased as he appeared. His responses were a little too quick and clipped for your liking.

“This is…great, it’s good, so good in fact that you shouldn’t even bother coming in for the remainder of your time.”

Now, you were confused, protesting softly as you tried to decode his ‘Leon speak’.

“But, Sir…I’m not sure I understand…”

“Oh,” he waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll still be compensated for your time, but I need to start training your replacement. I’ve had my eye on Miranda; she’ll do nicely.”

His words stung. To be told that you could be replaced so easily might as well have been a slap in the face, but by Miranda? Really?  She was eager to please, but there weren’t many thoughts bouncing around that blonde cranium of hers. What was he playing at? She’d never be able to work out his complicated schedule, let alone all the other ridiculous things he asked for. Was this because of that night at the conference? He couldn’t get you, so he was now jumping at the chance to replace you with someone more... accommodating?

“But don’t you need me to—" You try not to stammer, shocked as you are.

“Nope! I got this.” He didn’t even know what you’d been about to say, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need you—for anything anymore, apparently. “Better go clear out your desk. You can pick up your severance cheque on the way out.” There was a finality in his tone that you knew would be impossible to contend with.

You’d heard it before, when a business deal had gone south and he had ended negotiations right then and there. Now he was using it with you, and all you could manage was a stiff nod and a softly spoken, “Yes, Sir.” You would not let him break you or see your tears. You would keep a stiff upper lip and clear out your desk over the next hour.

If that was the way he’d like to end your partnership, then fine. Go ahead and burn that bridge, Leon.

You were glad you never did end up sleeping with him. It would’ve made this even more difficult.

You cast one last glance at his office, only to see him in the same position as when you left. You said your goodbyes to your coworkers and exited the office for the final time.

It wasn’t until you stepped out onto the street with the box holding all your belongings that tears stung your eyes. How dare he? After everything you’d been through? How could he so easily discard you like a piece of trash? You’d thought he’d changed, but he was still the same jerk he’d always been. Unfeeling and uncaring, selfish and concerned only with self-preservation, all wrapped up in a cold, calculating demeanour.

 Jerk

Little did you know that Leon was anything but fine. Panic gripped him as he watched you walk out of the office and subsequently out of his life because, like an idiot, he’d pushed you away. Easier to leave someone before they leave you, after all. That fact hadn’t even registered with him. It wasn’t until the day was long over and the workplace empty of all employees that he dared walk by your old office.

You’d left your desk light on, forcing him to go in and click it off. Realization hit harder in that moment as the room was bathed in shadows. It was too large, too empty, devoid of you and all the warmth you carried.

He leaned over your old desk, gripping the edge slightly. You were gone, and he only had himself to blame.

Just when he’d come to the realization that he did indeed love you.

**

Weeks passed, and you settled into your new job. Leon stayed silent on his end, and you’d assumed he was absolutely done with you. Despite how he’d acted, an obviously terrible reaction to your leaving, you missed him. You missed his stupid face and the way he always smiled like the sun shone out of your ass whenever you’d completed a task or provided him with something to sign. You were still furious, of course, and in no way ready to forgive him, but still, you found yourself reminiscing about the times you’d enjoyed yourself.

You missed his warmth and the calm contentment of working alongside him. Damn him for making you care, especially in the last few months of working for him. There was a deep ache in your heart whenever you thought about him. He’d hurt you, and there was no closure to be found as long as he seemed intent on maintaining a closed line of communication.

Very well, you might need some time to heal, but you would be strong and move on from him. You wondered how he was faring in your absence. Was Miranda as good a replacement as he’d thought she’d be? Bitterly, you came to the conclusion that he’d probably already slept with her and barely even thought about you. People don’t change that easily.

Leon was absolutely miserable. Miranda’s work ethic had paled in comparison to yours, and he’d barely used her. The atmosphere in the office was noticeably somber too. There were no more pranks on his part, and he’d barely left his office, even to take a lunch break.

This did not go unnoticed by his twin. He was the eyes and ears of the entire building after all, nothing got past him, and right now, his brother was hurting. It was up to him, apparently, to knock some sense into him—not the best choice, Mikey or Raph would’ve been better for this, but alas, they were busy.

“Ah, good afternoon, dear brother of mine.” He’d said while striding into his office, much like Leon did whenever he went upstairs to his.

Leon was staring moodily at a coffee cup; the drink had long since gone cold since his new assistant had fetched it for him. She’d gotten lost on the way to the coffee shop in the bookstore and instead had purchased it from the Starbucks across the street. Not only was his drink prepared incorrectly, but she’d also taken the liberty of adding whipped cream to it—ew. “What is it?” he asked in a bored tone. “If this is about the sales in this month’s past quarterly…”

“It is not,” Donnie said, moving to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “You still haven’t apologized to my girlfriend for your callous remark at the Gala. Since you have so much extra time on your hands from firing your assistant, I believe now is the time.”

Leon scowled, scoffing lightly as he threw his hands up. “Really? That’s why you came all the way down here?”

“Yes, just because you screwed things up with her doesn’t mean you can’t still make things right with my girl. Maybe then you’ll see how much of an idiot you’re being and actually fix your mistakes for once.” He gave his brother a pointed look to drive his point home.

The slider was quiet as he contemplated his words. “It’s too late…” he said finally, “I was losing her, so I pushed her away. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Does admitting it out loud make you feel better?”

With a rueful laugh, Leon shrugged. “I guess? It doesn’t change anything. She’s still gone. I should just let her live her life, and…”

“It’s never too late. That’s quitter talk and not the mentality of this company’s face man, now is it?” Donnie gently pressed. “She deserves to know the truth.”

“I…it’s stupid.” Leon shook his head. “I drove her nuts when she was my assistant, that’s why she left…she wanted to get out. She wanted to leave…me.”

With that, Donnie got up, popped the lid off Leo’s untouched drink, and threw it in his face. The resulting sputter of shock went completely ignored.

“Did you even spend five minutes learning what her actual career path was? It wasn’t to be your assistant forever, you dumdum. You were so afraid of losing face that you ignored everything and treated her like crap on top of it all. Well, guess what, you look dumb now, your worst fear realized and look at that, you survived. Now get your head out of your ass and go talk to her.”

Leon gaped at him, shock evident as he snatched some tissues to dab up the mess on his shirt and face. “Okay, say you have a point…what should I do?”

“Well, first clean your face because let me reiterate, you look dumb. Second, grand romantic gestures are your forte, not mine. Watch some romance movies, particularly the one called Two Weeks Notice.” He returned to his seat with a self-satisfied nod.

“Thanks,” Leon said, smiling for the first time in weeks. “I’ll apologize to your girlfriend next time I see her.”

“See that you do,” Donnie said, preparing to leave without sparing him a second glance. “And not that you need it, but good luck.”

Leon was left not only with his thoughts but also with a sticky mess to clean up. True to his word, he finally apologized to Donnie’s girlfriend and then set about concocting a plan to talk to you. A lot of things needed to be set in motion, and it all had to go perfectly.

He just needed to borrow Shelldon.

End Part 1 - Follow for Part 2

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