Dzanehgrill

CHAPTER 1

Leon slumped onto his bed, letting his body sink into the memory foam. He relished the way it molded to his aching muscles like a warm, tender embrace. Boy, did that feel like heaven.

If there was one good thing he got from this God-forsaken job, it’s the money that lets him afford quality stuff like this. He doesn't even need to give a fuck if it gets stained with dirt, blood, or whatever science-gooey shit he ends up getting soaked in during his missions.

Thankfully, for his luxury mattress, he’s not that kind of person. He had already thoroughly scrubbed the grime from his previous mission off back in headquarters. He’s the kind of guy who doesn't bring any trace of work home. After all, this apartment was one of the few things he had that brought him something close to solace.

It had been an excruciatingly long weekend.

The assignment was supposed to be routine. Sneak in, obtain the sample—a new T-virus variant—and sneak out. Simple. He was good at that, and he was confident he could finish within the day.

It was going smoothly.

Too smoothly.

Then everything went to shit.

Right when he thought he was about to bypass the security system, the code he entered–the code that was given to Hunnigan–locked him up inside the chamber that was holding the samples. Those samples turned out to be fake. It was a trap, and for once, they actually got him good.

The post-op investigation later confirmed a mole.

No… actually a whole fuck ton of them. Turns out they’d been tracking him for months, hoping to use him as a lab rat. To them, he was unique. Irreplaceable, they said, citing his history with the Plaga back in Spain. Hunnigan mentioned they’d already rounded up the bastards. The question now is if they got all of them. Apparently, they had already planted themselves deep in the government.

‘What bullshit have I gotten myself in now?’ he thought, sighing heavily. Once again, he had almost died. It’s terrifying how that's supposed to be normal.

“Just another day in the office,” he had joked before passing out from exhaustion when the evac team retrieved him right outside the laboratory... that was already up in flames.

They were left stunned, as always. How'd he get out of that hellhole designed to trap him? They could not even begin to imagine. They’d long decided that the man was simply a freak of nature to spare them the headache of wondering how he always managed to survive the most absurd missions.

He couldn’t even catch a break after all that.

The moment he reached HQ, he barely had time for a shower before being dragged into back-to-back briefings, interrogations, and mountains of paperwork. All the while, an IV drip had followed him. He was way too dehydrated.

Naturally, he had... 'asked' about a certain blonde during one of the interrogations. If they were targeting him because he survived the plaga, they might have been targeting her too. The bastard kept his mouth shut, which did not bode well with him. He would later ask Hunnigan to check on her for him as soon as possible.

“God, I need a vacation,” he muttered, defeated.

Feeling his eyelids getting heavy, he finally allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep.

-------

It was already noon when he woke up. He checked his phone and found a message from Hunnigan.

“I got the higher-ups to give you three days to rest. Sorry, I couldn't make it a week. Also, I'm still waiting for that update you asked for,” it said.

He replied with a simple thank you before turning off his phone. He lay there, unsure of what to do to make the most out of his rare three days off.

As if on cue, his stomach rumbled. Finally protesting after 2 whole days without a proper meal. Take-out would be good right about now.

He sat up, ordered some with his phone, then made his way to the bathroom.

The water hit his skin, making him flinch slightly. He sighed, welcoming the cold, allowing it to soothe his aching muscles. He let his mind wander.

First, what to do in the next three days. Chores, definitely. A good run would be nice too. Groceries maybe? Just a little bit of normalcy. He has until Wednesday before he gets back to work.

He sighed and pressed his forehead against the tiles. Work. Field. Missions. Lab. T-virus. Plaga. Spain. Ashley.

His breath hitched.

There was still no update. What the hell was taking so long? What if... she was actually in there?

“Alright, calm down,” he muttered to himself, trying to recount everything.

He had searched everywhere and everything in that place. The entrance. The first floor. The offices. Lockers, basement, laboratories, storage, attic, all the rooms thoroughly searched and looted.

Or did he?

He felt anxiety creep up as he continued to frantically search his mind, trying to remember if there was any trace of her back there before he blew the whole place up.

Oh God... he blew the whole place up.

He finished his shower and rushed to his phone to dial Hunnigan immediately. He needed to know, now.

“Hello?” a tired voice spoke through the phone. She must still be doing the paperwork, the poor thing.

“Sorry, Hunnigan. This is important. It's about–”

“Ashley Graham? Yeah, I literally just got an update about her. She's doing fine, Leon.”

He sighed, relieved. They never really had any contact for the last, what, almost three years? The last time he saw her was during dinner in the White House — a simple thank you for successfully saving the president's daughter (along with a huge promotion, of course). There was no way for him to contact her after that, except through his handler. Since Spain, she was rarely even mentioned in the news. He didn’t know where it came from, but a surge of excitement rose to his chest. “How is–”

“That's all the information I was permitted to tell you. Sorry, Leon.”

He closed his mouth, hit by realization. She's the president's daughter after all. Even through Hunnigan, only the most basic information was passed along to him. By basic, meaning: is the other person alive or not?

“Right. Thanks, Hunnigan. That's all I needed to know.”

“Alright. Rest up, will you?”

“You too,” his mouth moved before he could think.

His eyes paused, realizing what he just said.

Regret creeped up his spine, gnawing at him more and more as the silence between him and his trusted, tired, severely overworked handler stretched.

“...sorry...” he finally said.

-------

He arrived at the office three days later. His task was simple: verify Hunnigan’s final reports one last time before they were sent up the chain to the higher-ups. On his way to her cubicle, he noticed a shift in the air.

The usual surgical efficiency of the floor was gone. Instead, dozens of strangers, faces young and unfamiliar, skittered after his more senior colleagues, filling the room with chaos.

‘Trainees? I didn’t know we were hiring.’ He thought. Then again, it made sense. The recent purge must have left a massive gap in the workforce.

“Hunnigan,” he called as he made his way toward her.

She turned in her swivel chair, taking a slow sip from her morning coffee. At least she looked much better than she’d sounded on the phone three days ago.

“Oh, you're here early. Eager to work, I see,” she mused.

“Anything to get this shit over with,” he grumbled, pulling up the vacant stool next to her. A silent groan escaped him when he heard a loud thud the moment Hunnigan dropped a massive stack of encoded transcripts onto the desk with a heavy, soul-crushing thud.

They knew the drill. They retraced every moment of the mission, every radio check-in, and every piece of information that might have been left out. They dissected everything from the second he breached the lab to the moment the extraction team hauled him out. It took them about twenty minutes to clear most of it. After years of the same song and dance, they've learned how to go through this efficiently.

A soft knock interrupted them, pulling them out of their shared flow state.

“Miss Hunnigan? I got the papers you… Leon?”

A certain feeling washed over Leon the second he heard that voice. It had been years since he heard it, but he would have recognized it anywhere. He whipped his head around so fast that he almost broke his neck. Suddenly, he found himself staring into a pair of familiar, wide green eyes. Never in his life did he expect to see them in this place.

“Ashley?”

She looked almost the same, but different. There was a certain air around her. She dressed more simply than the last time he saw her, wearing a blue button-up shirt with the collar left open, a black pencil skirt, and black heels. An ID badge hung from her neck with bold red letters that read TRAINEE. Her hair was longer now, pulled back into a low, sensible ponytail to clearly show her face. Her face was almost exactly as he remembered, but there was something in it that made her feel different this time.

He remained speechless for a good few seconds, unsure how to react. When he finally looked over at Hunnigan, fully expecting an explanation, he just found her sitting back, busy enjoying her coffee–and his confusion. She let out a small, knowing smirk over the rim of her mug.

“Surprise."

CHAPTER 5

Ashley woke up to a head-splitting headache, a tired groan escaping her lips as she fought down the sudden wave of nausea rising in her throat.

‘God… when was the last time I got knocked out like this?’

She tried to piece together what she could from the night before, but the sheer mental effort only made the throbbing behind her eyes worse. Squinting against the blinding, aggressive brightness of the room, she tried to take in her surroundings, but nothing looked familiar. She had absolutely no idea where she was. 

She didn't have ivy wallpaper, nor did she keep any kind of plant at all. This wasn’t her couch. This wasn’t even her shirt. Is that a cat?

Her eyes widened in horror as her gaze dropped from the feline back down to her own body, the realization finally hitting her like a freight train: she wasn’t wearing her own clothes.

‘Oh my God… did I hook up with someone?’

Panic set in instantly, forcing her to bolt upright—a move she regretted the exact second she did it as the room violently spun.

“Oh. Morning, sunshine,” a familiar voice greeted.

Ashley turned her head slowly, holding her breath until she spotted the speaker. When she did, she heaved a massive sigh of relief.

“Hi, Gina,” she exhaled, instantly collapsing back down against the pillows. “What time is it..?”

Gina stepped toward the couch, holding a bottle of blue Gatorade in one hand and a small plate containing a few plain crackers and a single aspirin on the side. She set them down gently on the coffee table. “It’s around… eleven-thirty-ish in the morning.”

Ashley muttered a raspy thank you, blindly reaching out for the pill sitting beside the crackers. She popped it onto her tongue and downed it with the Gatorade, chugging the sweet, cold liquid like her life depended on it. She gasped as the bottle finally left her lips as she slumped deeper into the couch.

“How are you not having a hangover right now?” she groaned, her voice muffled against her arm.

Gina shrugged. “People call it alcoholism. I call it liver training.”

Ashley laughed softly but instantly winced in pain, so she stopped herself before she rattled her brain any further. She closed her eyes and grabbed one of the throw pillows to smother her face with it, desperately craving total darkness. Even with her eyelids squeezed shut, the beams of the morning sunlight felt like they were actively drilling holes straight into her skull.

“Stay in for as long as you need,” Gina said, crossing the room to fill up her cat's food bowl. The feline let out a little “mraw?” and trotted eagerly towards its owner.

“I thought I ended up hooking up with somebody…” Ashley sighed, relief evident in her tired voice.

Her friend chuckled. “Who said you didn't?” she teased, only to have a pillow thrown straight to her face.

~~~ A week later ~~~

“How is your training going, Ashley?” Her father asked across the dinner table.

Ashley was back at their family estate for the holidays. The dining room was modestly decorated with Christmas decor – green and red ribbons wrapped around lit candles that filled the room with warm light, while a majestic green tree stood in the corner, adorned with red and golden globes, wrapped in silk ribbon, and topped by a golden angel.

She swallowed her food and offered a small smile. “I'm doing well, Dad. I haven't killed any agents so far, at least.”

President Graham chuckled warmly. “So I've heard. Agent Kennedy seems to be as sharp as he's ever been. They said you helped him succeed in his previous mission.”

Ashley's fork stopped midway, a bitter, fleeting smile crossing her lips. “No… they're exaggerating. He was more than capable on his own,” she replied quietly.

Her father did not miss the sudden shift in her demeanor. He had always been aware of how his daughter viewed the man he sent to save her. He had dismissed it as a simple crush before, but now that they were working close together, he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread. “Ashley… As much as I know how capable Mr. Kennedy is, it would be wise to–”

“Dad… I don't know what you've heard, but there's nothing like that between us,” she assured him, still holding a small forced smile. “It's Christmas Eve, Dad. Let's just enjoy our meal.”

The president wanted to press further, but realized his daughter was right. It had been rare enough to see her ever since she graduated from college. Looking back, he remembered how he watched her do her absolute best to do whatever she could with her life – a fire that he noticed she had carried ever since she came back from Spain. 

He sighed softly, deciding to keep the lectures to himself for now as he offered her a warm nod. “You're right, sweet pea. You'd better still have room for dessert.”

~~~

Leon lay motionless in his bed, his thick sheets a bunched-up mess by his feet after hours of just tossing and turning. Luckily, no one had asked him out for a drink tonight, leaving him to do what he wanted with his rare free time: sleep. And sleep he did, alright, for the past 14 hours. Now, he's faced with a new problem: he couldn’t sleep any more.

He looked at the clock. 11:55 pm. He sighed, bored out of his mind. A jog would be good right now.

He forced himself up, pulled on a dark long-sleeved shirt, and wrapped a scarf around his neck to fight the winter chill a little. Five minutes later, he was standing in the foyer, pulling on his jogging shoes, when his private phone buzzed against the table with an incoming text. Sitting back on his heels, he reached for it and flipped the screen open.

“Merry Christmas. I hope you're not drinking too much.”

Sender: Ashley Graham.

He checked the clock, and it read 12:00 am. It was officially Christmas Day. The small smile that quickly graced his lips disappeared just as fast, replaced by a frown as he felt a hollow ache in his chest. He was the one who had hurt her, yet she was the one who reached out to him first.

His free hand flew to his forehead, letting it slide down to pinch the bridge of his nose as a wave of guilt washed over him. “I'm such an asshole…” he muttered to himself. 

He stared at the glowing screen for a moment, his thumb hovering over the keypad, unsure of how to reply. Finally, he settled on keeping it brief.

“Don't worry. I'm not,” he typed. “Merry Christmas.” 

And send.

It wasn't even a moment later when his phone buzzed again.

“Good. Hangovers are terrible,” it read.

Leon stared down at the screen, a soft, dry huff escaping him.

“Speaking from experience?” he texted back. 

As he waited for a reply, he remembered seeing her completely hammered right when he was about to leave the bar. He had hesitated for a long while, realizing that none of the trainees probably knew where she lived. He had only left once he overheard that her female friend was taking her to her own apartment instead.

After a minute passed with no response, he went back to tying his shoes, figuring she must have fallen asleep. He had just finished tying the laces when his phone buzzed again. 

“Why are you still up, anyway?”

He chuckled. “Changing the subject, I see,” he typed. “Couldn't sleep. Going out for a jog.”

“In the cold?”

“A little snow doesn't hurt me.”

“Okay, Superman.”

He chuckled again, his voice echoing across his empty apartment, realizing he was enjoying their little banter a little too much. Then his smile faded. The warmth seeped out of his chest, replaced by that familiar, heavy weight the reality tends to bring. 

‘Here I go again…’ he thought, a wave of self-reproach hitting him. He shouldn't keep leading her on, and he shouldn't keep letting himself fall.

Snapping himself out of it, he typed his final text message for tonight.

“Heading out now. Go get some sleep.”

It took a long while for her to answer back. Leon stood by the door. The cold handle was already in his grip, but his gaze remained fixed on the screen as the seconds ticked by in the quiet foyer.

Finally, the phone buzzed one last time.

“Alright. Be safe out there.”

Leon stared at the words, the simple wish seeming to wrap around his rapidly beating heart, like it was enough to protect him against the chill waiting outside. He didn't reply. Flipping the phone shut, he slid it into his pocket, opened the door, and stepped out.

~~~

Monday came along quickly, violently pulling everyone back to reality. The quiet, empty offices of the headquarters were suddenly booming with life. Across the halls, trainees were being yelled at for misplacing forms, screaming matches threatened to explode, telephones rang back-to-back, and paperwork was practically flying off the desks as employees scrambled to catch up on three days’ worth of backlog. 

And it was only 10 am.

After all, the threat of bioterrorism never stops. Not even for the holidays.

“Here are the logs, Miss Hunnigan. A-and these are the proposed revised formats for next year,” Ashley hurriedly said, her heels clacking frantically against the polished floor as she rushed to the cubicle.

“Thanks, Ash,” Ingrid replied, smoothly taking the stack from her hands.

Ashley collapsed into her seat, exhausted. She sat up slightly to rub her aching feet. She had been running around the building in her heels for the past two hours.

“I'd rather do a post-op report late at night…” she mumbled. Ingrid hummed in agreement.

Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted them both. They turned in their seats to find a courier in a rumpled suit, looking just as exhausted and frantic as everyone else in the building.

“Hunnigan. Agent Kennedy is to be deployed tonight. Be sure to notify him ASAP,” the man said with clipped urgency, already pivoting on his heel to sprint off toward his next task.

Ashley looked to her mentor in horror, finding her slumped even further in her seat. Not only did they have to finish the mountain of standard paperwork required by the end of the day, but a sudden deployment meant they would also have to get the intensive, additional post-op reports done by tomorrow morning.

“I… am so sorry. I jinxed us both…” Ashley squeaked, pulling her hands away from her aching feet as guilt washed over her.

Hunnigan rubbed her temples, a severe tension headache already tightening behind her eyes. She shook her head, letting out a weary breath. “Well… nothing we can do about it now. It’s not your fault, Ashley.”

~~~

Ashley took a long, deep breath, finally finding the time to rest after a full four hours of rushing back and forth across the building. Slumped at her desk, she brought one of her legs up to rub her calf and heel, desperately trying to relieve the throbbing pain before she had to do it all over again the moment the clock struck one.

“Rough morning?”

Ashley turned around to find Leon standing by the entrance of the cubicle, a folder tucked under his arm and two cups of takeout coffee held in his hands.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how their new dynamic is supposed to be now. But then she let out a soft breath, a small smile gracing her lips. “Pretty brutal, to be honest.”

He chuckled, a hint of relief evident in it. “Yeah… happens every year after the holidays.” He stepped forward and held out his hand, offering the drinks. “Here. For you and Hunnigan.”

She gratefully took the cups from him, trying to ignore the sudden jolt of nerves when her fingertips brushed slightly against his. “Thanks. We badly need this.”

He smirked, leaning his shoulder against the edge of the cubicle partition. “Sorry for bringing you into this. They just had to pick me of all people... Again.”

Ashley let out a breathy chuckle. “The cons of being good at your job, I suppose. Thanks to you, Miss Hunnigan, and I are bound to our computers for the rest of the night.” 

She took a long sip of her drink and felt her entire body instantly relax, the warm liquid tasting like sweet nectar. “Oh, that’s so good…” she sighed, leaning back into her chair.

Leon’s smirk softened into something a bit more genuine as he watched her. The brief silence that fell between them felt nice. It was warm. Comfortable. The complete opposite of the one they had shared at the bar. Ashley felt it too, her heart beating at a steady, peaceful rhythm as she cradled her warm drink. 

As her fingers traced the smooth rim of her cup, a quiet realization washed over her. ’Maybe things could turn out fine after all... Maybe being just friends really was for the best.’

A soft, relieved smile silently made its way to her face. Looking up at him, she broke the silence. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah, I have a briefing later about tonight’s mission,” he replied, gesturing to the folder tucked in his arm.

Ashley let out a soft oof, her eyes squinting. “Must be a long one since you’re being called this early…”

He shrugged. “Nothing I’m not used to.”

Silence lingered between them again, and he took it as his cue to leave. “Drink your coffee before it gets cold, okay? I’ll see you guys tonight.”

“See you,” she replied softly.

With one last nod, he turned on his heel and walked out of the cubicle, disappearing into the busy hallway toward the briefing rooms.

~~~

She hummed a random tune, trying to pass the time faster until it was ready to eat.

Much to Ashley's surprise, things didn't get quite as hectic as they had been in the morning. There was still a bit more work to be done compared to a usual Monday, but at the very least, she somehow managed to score some quiet time in the office breakroom. She grabbed a cup of instant noodles, filled it with hot water up to the line, and sat down at one of the tables, waiting patiently for it to cook.

“Mind if I join you?”

Ashley turned around to see who it was. “Liam,” she said, offering a warm smile. “Of course not.”

He didn't waste a second, walking toward her enthusiastically and taking the seat across the table. “Tough morning, huh?”

She let out an exhausted chuckle. “Brutal,” she sighed, leaning her weight into her hand. “Plus, our agent's getting deployed tonight, which means…”

Liam grimaced in sympathy. “Post-op reports.”

“Yep,” she replied, peeling back the foil lid of her noodles to check if they were done cooking. She hummed happily when she realized they were, and began stirring them around with her fork.

“The disadvantages of having a seasoned agent, huh?”

Ashley laughed. “Yeah, that's exactly what I told him!”

Liam's eyebrows shot up. “He's here?”

“Mh-hm,” she replied around a mouthful, sipping a few strands of her noodles. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. “Been up in the briefing room since noon.”

“Yikes…” Liam hissed.

For a while, Ashley's sipping of her noodles, and Liam's awkward tapping on the table were the only noises that cut through the silence that fell on them.

“Say…” Liam started. “What… do you think of him?” He asked cautiously.

Ashley looked up from her very late lunch, thoroughly surprised by the sudden direction of the conversation. “You mean Le– I mean… You mean Agent Kennedy?”

He nodded, his posture turning entirely rigid, eager to get an answer.

She blinked, staring down at her cup as she thought about it. “Well… if you mean aside from him being incredibly good at his job…” Her voice trailed off for a second. “He's… impossibly kind. And considerate.”

Liam’s shoulders slumped slightly at the praise, a flash of insecurity crossing his features.

“And a total jerk. All at the same time,” she suddenly added, a wry smile touching her lips. “Somehow.”

Liam blinked, his face twisting into a mix of confusion and amusement. “What?”

“Well, he—” She cut herself off, stopping before she could spill anything else.

There was nothing left for her to be angry about anymore. She couldn't let her lingering frustration or her temper get the better of her now. She didn't want to dwell on the past, especially since things had finally begun to look up for the two of them, even if they were only ever going to remain as friends.

“Never mind,” she said softly, shaking her head. “It's nothing.”

Liam leaned forward, his eyes searching hers. “Then… Do you like him?”

She froze, taking a long moment to answer before letting out a quiet sigh and shaking her head. “Nothing's going to happen, even if I did.”

“But… do you?”

“Liam… why are you asking me these things?” she asked, forcing a light laugh to mask the growing annoyance creeping into her chest at his persistent questioning.

He tensed up, like he was caught red-handed. “Sorry, I just… I wanted to make sure it would be okay if I asked you out.”

Ashley's eyes widened, her fork freezing mid-air. “What..?”

Liam chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as a distinct shade of pink dusted his cheeks. “I… I like you, Ashley. For… quite some time now.”

Ashley could only stare at him, her mind going entirely blank, completely at a loss for words. “Liam… I–”

“I know… you probably just went through something heavy recently,” he interrupted gently, misinterpreting her silence. “So you don't have to give me an answer right now. But… I just wanted to at least let you know.”

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the breakroom. Suddenly, the sharp ring of Liam's phone cut through the air, making both of them jump in their seats.

“Uh… ‘scuse me, it's my mentor,” he said, frantically scrambling to his feet.

Ashley watched in a daze as he slowly backed his way toward the door, juggling his buzzing phone. “Um… just… think about it. Let me know what you think. Soon. Yeah? Sorry, I gotta…” he stammered, his face bright red as he quickly stepped out into the corridor and let the door swing shut behind him.

In his blind rush, he seemed to have immediately bumped into someone in the hallway. Through the wooden door, Ashley could hear his muffled voice pipe up: “Ah, sorry, man,” before he quickly answered his call and hurried away.

Left entirely alone, Ashley turned back to her noodles, trying desperately to process the absolute whiplash of the last five minutes. She just sat there, staring blankly at the steam rising from the cup.

There were just too many things happening today. Her brain was already spread thin from the morning rush, her heart wasn't even fully healed yet, though it was finally starting to feel better—but now this?

Letting out a defeated sigh, she leaned forward and sprawled out completely across the cold metal table, pressing her burning cheek against the surface, trying to seek a small bit of comfort from the cool surface.

Unbeknownst to her, on the other side of the door, Leon had stood frozen in place. 

His chest tightened, a cold sense of dread suddenly settling deep into his stomach. Slowly, impulsively, he reached out to the handle, nudging the door open just enough to create a tiny, almost invisible crack.

Peering through the sliver of space, he found her, sprawled across the table in the most adorable way possible. A faint, involuntary smirk tried to touch his lips, but it vanished before it could even form.

This was exactly what he had wanted, wasn't it? He was the one who had drawn the line at the bar. He was the one who insisted they remain friends. Now, he was getting exactly what he asked for. She was moving on. She was shutting down any possibility of them, right as other men were lining up to take his place.

Knuckles turning white against his folder, Leon silently let the door click shut. He swallowed the lump in his throat, adjusted his jacket, and walked away into the shadows of the hallway.

CHAPTER 4

By half-past eight in the evening, people had already begun to trickle into one of the city’s dim, neon-lit dive bars. A senior agent had recommended the tucked-away spot, swearing by its cheap drinks and surprisingly great food. By the time nine o'clock rolled around, the quiet hum of the bar had completely transformed, packed to the brim with a rowdy, blurring mix of fresh-faced trainees, seasoned agents, and everyone else in between, all eager to drown the week's stress and celebrate the weekend.

Ashley was already settled at a round table with Gina and three other trainees, chatting away and laughing loudly over the Metallica songs playing on the stereo. A massive bowl of nachos, easily large enough for at least six people, sat in the center of their group. She picked up a few loaded chips, downing them with a swallow of her beer. She grimaced slightly at the heavy, bitter aftertaste, silently regretting her choice of drink.

The table practically exploded with welcoming cheers when Liam finally arrived. Ashley looked up to the entrance and found him enthusiastically greeting almost everyone he passed on his way through the crowd. The others called out his name, waving their arms to get him over to their table.

Then a familiar figure came into view, entering the threshold right after Liam.

Ashley's smile vanished.

Leon paused briefly, catching her stare through the haze of the room. He offered her a small, polite nod. Ashley recovered just enough to give him a faint wave in return. Her eyes followed him as he navigated the crowded room toward a corner where most of his fellow agents were gathered. He greeted whoever had greeted him along the way, but he didn't linger. Instead, he smoothly settled onto one of the leather stools at the far end of the bar counter—a quiet, isolated area where he would often go specifically to avoid conversation.

She pursed her lips, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs as she clenched her knuckles tightly under the table. A debate had raged in her head. Part of her wanted nothing more than to march right over to that corner and finally straighten things out between them once and for all. 

Meanwhile, the other part of her was terrified of the thought that if she did, things would never be the same again. No more banter. No more of his ridiculous jokes. This part of her thought that maybe… just maybe… it wouldn’t hurt too much to keep herself deluded. To believe that there was still a chance. That, against all logic, they could be something more.

Still, she knew that wouldn't be right.

“Fuck it,” she muttered under her breath. She grabbed her bottle and took a heavy swig to borrow some sort of courage from her cheap liquor before tapping Gina's shoulder and quietly telling her that she would be right back. She stood up, shimmied her way out of their crowded booth, and marched straight to where Leon was. Liam called out, asking her where she was going, but his voice was instantly lost to her, completely swallowed by the loud music and the deafening, frantic beating of her own heart in her ears.

~~~

Having known Leon as one of his regulars over the years, the bar owner had already gotten to work making his usual whiskey on the rocks. Leon muttered a quiet “thanks” when the lowball glass was placed in front of him. He lifted it, taking a slow, measured sip to acclimate his palate, and let out a soft sigh, relishing the familiar burn of the liquor.

"Hey," a familiar voice called out softly. "Mind if I sit with you for a bit..?"

Leon paused, turning around to face Ashley. He took a deep breath, knowing exactly what was about to happen. He had been dreading this conversation for the past few hours, unsure of how they should even talk about it. Still, he nodded at her and offered the seat right beside him.

Ashley promptly sat down, her eyes averting to the drink in her hands. They sat in silence for a while, neither of them knowing how to start. 

Leon glanced at her hands and found them fidgeting with her beer bottle, her thumbs mindlessly tracing the condensation on the glass and picking at the edge of the damp paper label. The ice in his glass clinked softly as he waited.

Then… she took a long, heavy breath.

"About... last night..." she started, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes remained stubbornly downcast, staring at the dark grain of the wooden table, unable to meet his gaze lest she falter. "What... was that..?"

Leon slumped his shoulder slightly, letting out a silent sigh. "Ash..."

"I-I need you to be straight with me. Please..." she stammered, still refusing to meet his eyes. "You... are so good to me. Why?"

Ashley waited for a moment, hoping he’d have an answer. When she realized that her question was only met with silence, she continued.

"You... drive me home when it's late, even when you're tired... You even wait for me to clock out even though it's two in the morning,” her voice began to tremble, but she fought hard to keep it still. “You talk to me like I'm someone precious. You... look at me as if…” 

She stopped herself, second-guessing whether she should even dare to say it out loud.

She swallowed hard. She had completely lost count of the nights when she would lie in bed wide awake until dawn, replaying whatever he had done for her that day, endlessly debating and dissecting what his actions had meant. The afternoon when she had blinked awake from a nap to find his heavy jacket draped over her shoulders. The nights she would find him waiting down the dimly lit hallway, exhausted and beaten up from a brutal mission, yet stubbornly refusing to leave until she did. The moments when she thought she had caught him stealing quiet glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Yet, the second they got too close, he would suddenly pull away. Just like last night.

She decided that now would be the only chance for her to say everything she needed to say.

“As if... there is something deeper... between us," she said, her voice dropping to a soft murmur when she muttered the last two words.

Leon gripped his glass a little tighter. Every single thing she said hit home.

“Then... just when I thought...” she paused, her mind reluctantly recalling the events from last night. Their conversation. The tension. That electric thrill she felt right before he had just up and left her feeling embarrassed, and all the more confused. She swallowed the lump in her throat, finally forcing out the one question that had kept her awake all night. “What... are we..?”

A heavy silence filled the space between them, completely drowning the noise of the bar around them. She finally looked up to him, slowly, still terrified. When his eyes met hers, he found beads of tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over, the bar's dim light making them glisten beautifully against her skin.

His chest instantly tightened at the sight. He looked down at his glass, utterly unable to answer her yet, forcing himself to think as the silence stretched between them.

Of course, Leon knew exactly why it got to that point. He knew the reason why he had to drive her home, no matter what ungodly hour it was. He knew why he couldn't bear to see her shivering from the cold. He knew why he had been bringing his car instead of his usual bike to work lately, and it had absolutely nothing to do with road safety.

At first, he thought it was some sort of lingering obligation to protect her–a reflex to desperately keep the very few people he had saved in his cursed job safe. For weeks, it had been like that for him.

But you don’t change yourself for something like that. You don’t willingly wait until late just to drive them home. Your chest isn't supposed to tighten so much that it physically hurts when you hear them laugh echoing across the hallway. You don’t just come undone every time she offers a smile.

He knew what he felt for her.

And he knew what she felt for him.

But... he also knew that he couldn’t have her. That he shouldn’t be feeling this way. He knew what kind of life she would be forced to live so long as she was with him. It would be a lonely life. A life where she would spend her days consumed by a suffocating anxiety, constantly wondering whether he would be coming home to her alive or in a box.

He could never ask anyone to do that for him. Not anyone. Not her. Especially not her.

“Last night,” he started, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.

She breathed in sharply, her chest hitching as she waited for his reply.

Leon pursed his lip briefly, already tasting the bitterness of what he was about to say.

“Last night... was a mistake.”

Ashley's heart sank, plunging into a cold, hollow void that left a lingering, constant, stinging pain. But she didn't dare let her tears fall. Instead, she drew a shaky breath in, slowly, forcing the air into her tight lungs as she fought with everything she had to steady herself after the heavy, crushing blow of his words.

"I shouldn't have done that. I... should have stopped it before it started. I’m sorry," he said, his voice low, filled with guilt.

"It was in the heat of the moment," he continued, pausing as the word just threatened to choke him. "Nothing more..." he lied. 

His head remained stubbornly down, eyes locked onto his drink, utterly terrified to look up and witness just how much he hurt her.

“... Nothing..?” she asked, her voice smaller now, a fragile whisper that practically begged him to take it back, to give her any other answer.

"... Nothing.”

Ashley looked down at her fingers, watching them tremble slightly. "I see..." she said. 

She took a few deep breaths, holding the suffocating weight of the truth. She blinked her tears away. She would rather die right then and there than let him see her cry. Then... with everything she had, she forced a smile onto her face.

“Thank you,” she said, her tone completely genuine despite the pain she couldn't entirely mask in her voice.

Leon looked up, confused, finally forcing himself to meet her eyes. His heart instantly sank to the pit of his stomach when he saw them filled with a profound, quiet pain. Pain that he knew he had caused. But right along with the hurt, he saw something else. He saw acceptance. And for some reason... it made him feel a thousand times worse.

He would rather she scream at him. He would rather she throw a drink in his face, make a scene, or call him out for the absolute asshole he was. Her anger would have been easier to bear.

"Thank you for clearing things up," she said, a small, fragile smile tugging at her lips.

Leon hesitated. "Yeah..." he finally forced out, nodding slowly.

Silence again.

It was a new kind of silence. The silence they shared so far always had something in it–anticipation, comfort, longing. This silence wasn't familiar. 

It wasn't even awkward. 

It was just… empty.

Leon looked at her again, his gaze dropping as his eyes landed on the bottle of cheap beer she had barely touched. Desperate to break the suffocating feeling they shared, he cleared his throat. "How do you like your beer?"

Ashley only chuckled softly, the forced sound hollow, her smile not even coming close to reaching her eyes.

"Hate it. I should've gotten some mule instead," she replied, a fragile attempt to throw a bit of humor into the space between them.

He huffed, his smile not reaching his eyes either. "Yeah... that's cheap beer for ya."

"Hey, Ash!" A voice called out from the crowded booth she shared with her colleagues.

She looked back over her shoulder, finding Gina waving her over with an energetic grin. "Come on, we're doing shots!"

"Be right there!" she called back, her voice remarkably steady. She glanced at Leon one last time, the finality of the evening settling between them. "I... should probably get going."

Leon simply nodded, his arms resting heavily against the wooden counter. "Have fun.”

Ashley gave him one last, fleeting smile before turning on her heel and making her way back to her table. He watched the exact moment her face forced a bright, seamless smile to greet her colleagues, and the way she easily took the shot glass that was offered to her. She swallowed the liquor with gusto, not even bothering to touch the chaser they held out to her. She yelled a wild “Whoo!” as she slid back into the booth, instantly allowing herself to get lost in the rowdy noise of the rest of them.

Leon chuckled lowly at the sight—a dry, humorless sound—before turning back to nurse his own drink. He swirled the liquor around in his glass, staring heavily at the way the liquid sloshed against the crystal, the deep, golden color painfully reminding him of a certain someone.

~~~

The party was in full swing by now. Somewhere across the room, a group was rowdily playing pool, a few people were already passing out in the corner booths, and bursts of loud laughter exploded through the bar from time to time. Leon remained in his isolated corner, silently nursing his newly refilled drink. He decided that the moment he finished this glass, he’d finally head out, finding that there was absolutely no reason for him to linger any longer.

“Mr. Kennedy?” a voice called out.

Leon turned his head, his sharp eyes instantly assessing the man standing beside his stool. He recognized him immediately as one of Ashley’s colleagues, a charismatic young man with neat brown hair and bright, easygoing eyes.

“Yes?” Leon replied, his voice clipped.

“Mind if I take this seat, sir?” the young man asked, gesturing to the vacant stool. Before Leon could answer, the trainee politely extended a hand. “I’m Liam Johnson, by the way. Ashley’s colleague.”

Leon furrowed his brow, his sharp eyes dropping to the offered hand. He wasn't sure what a trainee would want from him, but his inherent professionalism won out. He hesitantly took the handshake, giving it a brief, firm squeeze before letting go.

After a beat of hesitation, Leon gave a solitary nod toward the stool. “Go ahead.”

Liam offered a grateful smile and sat down, immediately flagging the bartender to order some finger food, likely to bring back to their table later.

“Great operation, by the way, sir,” the young man started, leaning an elbow against the bar as he tried to strike up a casual conversation.

Leon looked at him blankly, evidently exhausted, but still too inherently polite to simply shut down an excited junior.

“It kind of made its way down to the trainees,” Liam laughed sheepishly. “Everyone’s still talking about how incredible you were out there.”

Leon shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping back to the amber liquid in his glass. “It was Ashley’s help that got me out of there.”

“Right, of course. She's amazing,” Liam agreed quickly, nodding with genuine respect. “Everyone’s talking about how she’s on the fast track for a major promotion anytime soon.”

Leon huffed, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” he said. His voice was laced with pride. But right beneath it lay a hint of hurt.

Liam’s smile faltered slightly when he picked that up.

An awkward silence settled for a while.

“So um… about Ashley…” the trainee hesitated, shifting his weight on the stool as he carefully weighed his next words. He cleared his throat. “You seem… fond of her.”

Leon narrowed his eyes at him, unsure where this was going. “What are you getting at?”

“Oh, um, I was just wondering if you two…” Liam trailed off, hesitating again and looking thoroughly terrified of offending his senior. He didn’t have to finish the sentence for Leon to understand exactly what he was implying.

“No,” Leon answered flatly, his voice devoid of any emotion. “We’ve only known each other for a long time. That’s all.”

Liam couldn’t stop the sudden, audible breath of relief he had been holding in. “Oh, good,” he blurted out before he could think better of it.

Leon glanced at him sideways, a single brow shooting up with a dangerous sharpness.

Realizing how that sounded, Liam's eyes widened, and he frantically waved his hands. “Oh! That’s– that’s not what I meant, sir! It’s just…” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he forced up the courage to look Leon in the eye. “There wouldn’t be a problem if I... asked her out... right?”

Leon’s glass stopped halfway to his lips, his entire body tensing up for a fraction of a second as the words registered. He slowly lowered his glass back to the counter, taking a long, deliberate beat before he forced out an answer.

“No,” he said, the simple, one-syllable word leaving a foul, bitter taste in his mouth.

Liam smiled, visibly relieved, his shoulders dropping. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Do what you want,” Leon replied flatly, raising his glass once more and taking a sharp sip of his liquor to wash away the sting of his own words.

As if on cue, a fresh bowl of nachos landed on the counter in front of Liam, the dull thud of the plastic signaling that it was time for him to go. He quickly paid the bartender, muttered a polite thank you to Leon, and slipped off his stool, eagerly heading back toward their table.

Leon eyed him across the crowded room and caught a glimpse of Ashley. Her face had turned a vibrant, flushed red, and she was giggling nonstop at whatever Liam had just sat down to tell her. He gulped down his whiskey, the burning liquid barely registering as he came dangerously close to slamming the empty crystal glass down onto the wooden counter.

Across the bar, a gruff, heavy sigh cut through the music.

Leon looked up, his sharp eyes meeting those of the bar's owner. The older man, who had apparently been listening, was slowly shaking his head, a deep frown carving lines into his weathered face.

Leon held his gaze for a second before sliding the empty glass forward. “I need another refill.”

The owner huffed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. “That, you do.”

~~~

Short chapter for today! I’m finally halfway through my finals (started May 18th, and ends on June 18th FAAHH)

I’m not sure if I can upload next week cuz our exams are progressively getting harder :(( Still, I’ll do my best!

Hope you liked it. Thanks for reading! 

Chapter 3

“Condor One, you are approaching the secondary bulkhead. Thermal scans show three hostiles up ahead. Advise caution.” 

Ingrid Hunnigan’s voice cut through the low, ambient hum of the control room, her voice controlled and commanding. She sat perfectly upright, her headset resting against her dark hair, her eyes tracking the flickering telemetry on the main console.

Beside her, Ashley’s fingers flew across her own secondary terminal. Her own microphone was completely dead, the toggle switched firmly to Mute per training protocol. It had been a little over two months since she was granted clearance into the inner sanctum of the comms hub. This wasn’t the first time she had assisted Hunnigan during Leon’s missions, but this was her first high-stakes one. She breathed deeply, not letting the anxiety get to her.

With a swift tap of a key, Ashley isolated the facility's structural schematics that Leon was currently infiltrating, highlighting a ventilation shaft that bypassed the patrol. She silently pointed at her screen, catching Hunnigan’s eye.

Hunnigan gave a nod of approval.

“Correction, Condor One,” Hunnigan spoke into the live mic, her thumb hovering over the toggle. “Support has mapped an alternate route. Look up and to your left. There’s an access duct that will clear the patrol zone entirely.”

Through the audio feed, the sound of his heavy boots hitting the metal floors echoed off the facility's walls. Then came his voice–deep, gritty, and filtered through digital static.

“Copy that,” Leon’s voice crackled into their headsets. “Good eye. Moving to the duct now.”

Ashley’s chest tightened, feeling a thrill race through her veins. She quickly looked down at her monitors to hide the small smile on her face, bringing up his biometric vitals. His heart rate was elevated, hovering at 112 BPM. He must be feeling so much adrenaline right now.

She heard a thud as he exited the vent and dropped to what seemed like concrete. Suddenly, a violent crash of shattering glass and a guttural, inhuman roar echoed through the audio feed from Leon’s end.

“Got a problem,” Leon grunted, his breathing instantly turning heavy as the rhythmic bang-bang-bang of rapid gunfire erupted over the comms. He cursed under his breath.

Giant footsteps echoed loudly, getting closer, and closer. Suddenly, the floor beneath him crumbled, which was the last thing they heard before the audio line cut into a deafening burst of static. On Ashley’s screen, Leon’s biometric flatlined.

Ashley’s breath caught violently in her throat. Her hands froze over the keyboard, her eyes locked onto the terrifying, flat gray line of his biometrics. She clenched her knuckles until they turned white against the edge of the desk, clamping her jaw shut.

Beside her, Hunnigan didn't even flinch. Her expression remained stoic, though her fingers moved across her console with lightning-fast, practiced urgency.

“Condor One, this is FOS. Do you copy?” Hunnigan’s voice was steady, but authoritative. “Signal dropped. Re-routing telemetry through the western satellite array now. Condor One, status report.”

Static. Five agonizing seconds of pure, empty static.

Then, Leon’s sharp coughs cut through.

“...Damn it.” his gravelly voice bled back into their headsets, accompanied by the heavy, rhythmic thud of him kicking a piece of debris aside. “Floor gave out. Took a nasty drop. Looks like I’m in the sub-basement, but I’m alright. This fat, overgrown son of a bitch cushioned the fall for me.”

On Ashley’s monitor, the gray line instantly flashed back to a vibrant, pulsing green. His heart rate was spiking at 135 BPM now, adrenaline pumping. He was alive.

Ashley let out a slow, trembling breath through her nose.

“I lost the map data during the drop,” Leon muttered, his voice dropping into that focused, lethal register as the wet, squelching sound of something moving in the dark echoed nearby. “It’s pitch black down here. I need eyes.”

Hunnigan looked directly at Ashley, giving her a sharp nod. “Support, pull up the sub-surface plumbing and drainage schematics for Sector 4. Find him an exit route, now.”

Ashley’s fingers didn't just move—they blurred across the keys. The panic that had threatened to paralyze her seconds ago was instantly channeled into pure, localized adrenaline. She didn't have time to be terrified. Leon was in the dark, and she was his only set of eyes.

“Accessing sub-surface schematics for Sector 4,” Ashley murmured, her voice tight and controlled, mimicking Hunnigan’s professional cadence.

She bypassed three firewalls, her monitor flashing a warning before she cleared it, forcing the facility's old blueprints to render in a 3D wireframe grid on her main display.

“I have it,” Ashley said, angling her screen so Hunnigan could see. “The sub-basement is an abandoned utility reservoir. It’s a dead-zone grid, but there’s an exit three hundred meters north of his last known telemetry point.”

Hunnigan glanced at the screen, her analytical eyes tracing the path Ashley had mapped. A flicker of genuine approval crossed her face. She tapped her mic toggle.

“Condor One, we have your location,” Hunnigan transmitted smoothly. “You’re in an old utility reservoir. Structural data is limited, but Support has located an exit three hundred meters north of your position.”

Through the static of the headset, Ashley heard the sharp, metallic clack of Leon reloading his weapon in the dark.

“Copy that. Heading north,” Leon grunted. His breathing was heavy, the audio feed picking up the distinct splashing sound of his combat boots wading through ankle-deep water. “It’s a literal maze down here. Keep me updated on those turns.”

Hunnigan looked at Ashley, her hand sliding off her own console. “He’s all yours, Ashley. Keep your mic muted, but you feed me the directions. I’ll echo them to him.”

Ashley swallowed hard and nodded. She zoomed in on the flashing green dot that represented Leon’s biometric beacon. He was moving fast, but the gray corridor walls of the wireframe map were full of blind corners.

“Tell him sixty meters ahead, take the first right,” Ashley instructed, her eyes tracking a heavy structural pillar on the digital map.

Hunnigan toggled the mic seamlessly. “Condor One, at sixty meters, take the first right.”

“Acknowledged.” A brief pause, followed by the distant, echoing crunch of concrete over the comms. “Alright, next turn?”

“Left in forty meters,” Ashley said quickly, her eyes darting ahead on the map. Suddenly, her heart dropped. A red pulsing dot appeared on her auxiliary screen–the thermal sensors in the facility were picking up a massive heat signature moving rapidly through the adjacent pipes, closing in on his position. “Wait– Stop! Something's in the vent directly above him!”

Hunnigan didn't hesitate. “Condor One, stop. Dynamic threat overhead. Hold your position.”

The audio feed went dead silent, save for the soft, agonizingly slow sound of water dripping from the ceiling on Leon's end. Ashley held her breath, her eyes darting between Leon's heart rate, which was holding a steady 128 BPM on her screen.

Through his mic, a low, wet, clicking sound echoed from above. Whatever was in the ceiling was hunting.

Ashley’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of her desk.

The red indicator hovered directly over Leon's green dot for three grueling seconds... before it slowly tracked away, moving deeper into the eastern sector.

“Threat is moving away,” Ashley whispered, her voice trembling slightly before she locked it down. “He’s clear to move. Straight ahead for another ninety meters, and the exit will be on his left.”

Hunnigan relayed the directions, her tone a steady shield. “Threat cleared, Condor One. Advance straight for ninety meters. The exit will be on your left.”

A few seconds passed, filled only by the frantic splashing of his boots accelerating into a sprint. Then, the loud, grinding screech of rusted iron echoing over the comms signaled he was throwing the heavy manual lever of the valve.

A rush of howling wind and heavy rain bled into the audio feed, instantly drowning out the oppressive silence of the sub-basement.

“I’m out,” Leon breathed, his voice laced with rare, genuine exhaustion as he stepped out into the open night air. “Roost, LZ is in sight. Preparing for extraction.”

Hunnigan let out a controlled breath, tapping her console to coordinate the chopper's arrival. “Copy that, Condor One. Chopper is two minutes out. Secure the perimeter.”

Before cutting the tactical channel to transition to the pilot, Leon took a heavy, dragging breath. The comms crackled one last time, and his voice dropped into that familiar, slightly gravelly register–the one he use when he'd finally allow his professional voice to slip.

“And Hunnigan?” Leon added casually, the faint hint of a smirk evident even through the digital static. “Tell Support... excellent eyes tonight. I owe her a treat.”

The line went dead as Hunnigan switched frequencies.

Ashley sat frozen in her chair, her cheeks instantly flushing a deep, brilliant pink. She looked over at Hunnigan, completely mortified, her heart doing an entirely different kind of violent flip than it had five minutes ago.

Hunnigan didn't look up from her terminal, though a very small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Well,” Hunnigan started, and turned to Ashley. “Let’s get to work on the after-action report.”

~~~~~

“Good work today, Ashley. You're learning much faster than I expected,” Ingrid said with a hint of warmth in her voice.

Ashley smiled, feeling proud of her accomplishment tonight. “Thanks, Miss Hunnigan. Only because you're such a great instructor, though.”

“Keep this up, and you'll be up for a promotion soon. Maybe even have your own agent,” Ingrid continued, snapping her ledger shut for the night.

Ashley laughed. “No, it’s too soon. I still freeze up every time something bad happens.”

“You’ll get past that,” Ingrid countered easily, tapping the loose paperwork against the desk to align the edges before stacking them neatly. “We can pick this up tomorrow. Go ahead and rest up.”

“Okay.” Ashley nodded, turning back to her station to clear her desk.

“I'm going to head out first. You good?” Ingrid asked. The rhythmic click of her heels was already fading down as she neared the exit.

“Yeah! Good work today,” Ashley called out, sliding the last of her notebooks into her bag. As the heavy office doors began to swing shut, she blinked, remembering the dark, freezing streets outside. “Oh, Miss Hunnigan, do cabs usually pass by—”

Her voice trailed off into the empty room. The soft click of the latch breaking the silence let her know her trainer was already gone.

She checked her watch and let out a soft sigh. 1:59 AM.

‘D.C. is a busy city,’ she reasoned with herself, trying to keep the late-night nerves from creeping in. ‘If I just walk down to the main avenue, there should still be plenty of cabs passing through.’

She grabbed her coat, turned off the remaining desk lamps, and pulled the glass door shut until she heard the click of the lock. Turning toward the dimly lit lobby, she looked up—and her heart skipped a beat. She had to stop herself from fully beaming.

Leon was leaning against the wall, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder and his hair still slightly damp from the shower he’d taken the second his debriefing ended. When the sound of her footsteps echoed across the lobby, he looked up to greet her with a smile.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.

He pushed himself off the wall, falling into step beside her. “Heading home?”

“Yeah. I'm gonna go and look for a cab. There should be some down by the main road.”

Leon stopped in his tracks. His face twisted into something between an amused grin and a grimace, and he let out a short huff, looking almost offended. “Didn't I tell you I'm not gonna let you do that?”

Ashley paused, turning to face him with a soft, affectionate sigh. “Leon, it's fine. You just got back from a mission. You should be heading home to get some actual sleep.”

He shook his head, fixing her with a steady, unblinking look. Ashley rolled her eyes and stared back, refusing to go down without a fight. Still, inside, her chest was tightening as she tried desperately not to crumble and fold into herself while those steel blue eyes bore into her.

Within less than a minute, she relented.

“I’m not going to convince you, am I?” she eventually said.

“No.”

She sighed, shaking her head in a gesture of pure, defeated surrender. “Fine. At least let me pay for gas.”

He chuckled. “As if.”

~~~~~

The drive to her apartment had mostly been a quiet one, the steady hum of the engine and the blast of the car's heater filling the space between them. Leon had brought his car tonight, a black sedan, instead of his usual motorcycle, claiming it was too dangerous to navigate the patches of black ice on the roads.

“I thought you were too hardheaded to worry about something like that,” she had teased a few weeks back when she saw it for the first time. Still, she preferred the car. If he had brought the bike, she was certain she would have truly frozen to death, even with the thick, warm winter stockings she’d specifically worn to survive the office.

She stole a glance at him, finding his gaze entirely fixed on the road ahead. It wasn't rare for him to drive her home. In fact, he’d already done so a couple of times since they saw each other again, sometimes appearing on nights like this when she had to go home late, going as far as waiting for her until she was ready to clock out.

It puzzled her.

He said he had no plans to date anyone, so he definitely wasn't doing this to make a move on her. Still… despite her every effort to remain logical, she couldn't completely suppress the selfish thought that maybe, just maybe, he was. Whatever the reason was, she just hoped he wasn't doing this out of a lingering sense of obligation… That he was somehow still responsible for her safety.

Ashley shook her head slightly, turning her eyes back to the passenger window as the yellow streetlights flashed across the glass. They shared a special bond, that was for sure. But that was probably all it would ever be. Just two fellow survivors. Nothing more, nothing less.

She distracted herself by admiring the city. The streetlights lining the road to her apartment were adorned with festive banners of the traditional rich red and pine green. A few small shops were still open, their decorated storefronts spilling a cozy, golden light. Up ahead, she could see the corner of the park. A hilariously lopsided, clumsily made snowman stood proudly beside a perfectly sculpted one.

Ashley let out a silent, breathless chuckle at the sight.

Beside her, Leon's eyes flicked to where she was looking, and a low amusrd huff escaped him too.

Christmas was coming in full swing.

He made a smooth right turn, the tires crunching lightly against the curb as the sedan rolled to a stop directly in front of her apartment complex.

“You wanna stop by and have something warm to drink?” she offered as she gathered her bag and straightened her coat. She froze briefly, realizing she had just invited him to her apartment. Still, the least she could do after all he had done was offer him a nice warm drink. She decided to not take the offer back.

Leon paused, shifting the car into park but leaving the engine idling. He seemed to think about it for a moment, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the steering wheel. “I don’t mind,” he said, turning his head to look at her. “But don’t you have to be in early tomorrow? Reports and all.”

“I’ll make it quick,” she promised, looking over at him with a soft smile. “If you’re in a hurry, I can always make you a coffee to go.”

He thought of it a little bit more.

“Alright," he replied, nodding slowly. "You got decaf?”

~~~~~

It was a luxury apartment, alright.

High ceilings, simple yet plush couches, clean white tiles, and marble kitchen countertops—all that jazz. The decor was mature and feminine, filled with soft neutral tones, warm ambient lighting, and sheer white drapes that did little to block out the colorful holiday lights twinkling across the city outside.

Leon stepped into the space, his heavy tactical boots suddenly sounding incredibly loud against the polished floors.

“Nice place,” he commented, as he slung his leather jacket on the coat hanger.

“Thanks. I did my best,” she replied with a soft chuckle, setting down her coat as well. “Make yourself at home. I’ll start the coffee machine,” she said, stepping out of her heels and slipping into her indoor slippers–fuzzy ones complete with little bunny ears.

A discreet, amused smile tugged at the corner of Leon's lips, though he quickly masked it as he followed her toward the kitchen. He pulled out one of the barstools at the island and sat down, quietly watching her across the room. His eyes tracked her movements as she worked at the main counter against the wall, setting up the machine with a fresh filter and pouring a measured scoop of decaf beans into the grinder.

As the machine began to whir to life, Ashley turned around, resting her hips against the back counter. “It should be done soon,” she said, offering a small smile. “So... are you having it to go? Because if you are, I can lend you my travel thermos.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to keep you up for too long,” he replied, his voice low and considerate.

She nodded, reaching up to one of the sleek overhead cabinets to fetch her travel thermos before pivoting toward the stainless-steel refrigerator. “Milk?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Just a little bit,” he replied.

That surprised her. She turned back to the fridge to hide her small smile, having always pinned him as a strictly black coffee kind of guy. Just then, the machine emitted a quiet beep, signaling that the brew was ready.

She lifted the glass pot, carefully pouring the steaming decaf into the thermos for him and the rest into her own ceramic mug. She added a light splash of milk to his container and a generous pour into her own.

“Sugar?” she asked, looking over at him.

“No, I’m good,” he replied.

She mixed his drink with a small spoon, then walked toward the island to pass the thermos over to him. “Here,” she said softly, before heading back to the main counter to add a bit of sugar to her own drink.

Leon lifted the thermos and took a sip, his eyebrows raising slightly as he found himself mildly surprised by how good it tasted.

“You’re good at this,” he chuckled, leaning his forearms against the polished surface of the island as he tracked her movements.

“Believe it or not, I actually took a barista workshop a while back,” she beamed, heading towards the stool beside him with her warm mug in hand. “I'm not going to be the First Daughter forever, so I figured I should learn how to make good coffee on my own.”

“Smart,” he murmured.

“I’ll make you a mean cappuccino next time,” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes. “I’m actually pretty good at doing those pretty foam designs on top.”

He chuckled. “I’ll count on that.”

A comfortable quiet settled over the kitchen, both taking a moment to sip their own drinks in silence.

“Any plans for the holidays?” she asked, breaking the quiet as she swirled the drink in her mug, trying for a bit of casual small talk.

“Depends if the others are gonna drag me out for a drink,” he shrugged, staring down into his thermos before taking another sip. “Otherwise, I’ll just sleep in. You?”

“I’ll probably spend it with dad,” she replied.

“How is President Graham, by the way?”

Ashley paused, wrapping both hands around her warm mug and taking a slow sip before answering. “Hmm… the usual, I suppose. I bet he has a lot more headaches now, though.” She said, looking down to watch her mug as she swirled her coffee around. “What with the recessiom going on, on top of the recent biothreats that seem to be emerging nonstop… and his stubborn daughter potentially being taken by one.”

“Hey. That’s not gonna happen,” he said softly. He said it like it was a promise, despite being uncertain he could keep it. Still, he swore to himself that nothing would happen to her.

Not on his watch.

Ashley looked at him, the sincerity in his voice warming her up a little bit. She let out a soft chuckle, a little nostalgic, a little weary.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her smile turning gentle. “Yeah, I hope so. I don’t think I could handle being locked in damp, rotting storage rooms ever again.”

He chuckled, a genuine glint of amusement returning to his eyes. “I don't know, I think you did pretty well back then. Lifting and swinging a heavy iron candelabra around was no easy feat,” he teased.

Ashley burst out laughing. “God, when are you ever going to let me forget that?”

As her laughter tapered off into a soft smile, she looked up, and found him staring at her. Her breath suddenly caught on her throat. She started back, unable to look away. He was smiling at her. It was his usual smile. But this time… she was certain there was something deeper… heavier... hidden right behind it.

Her throat tightened, and her heart began hammering furiously against her ribs. They stayed frozen like that, his steel blue eyes holding hers with such intensity that she didn’t know if she was about to melt, shrink, or burst into pieces right then and there.

Then… She felt a pull.

That magnetic energy pull thing she always read about in her novels. In the dim of the kitchen light, she couldn’t tell if it was just her imagination or if he was actually, subtly leaning in closer to her as well. At this point, the pressure in her chest was so intense that it genuinely hurt, and she thought her heart was about to burst right out of it.

She released a slow, shaky breath, each agonizing second filling her with terrifying anticipation.

Then, just when they were close enough to breathe each other in…

Leon abruptly turned his head away, clearing his throat roughly.

“It’s late,” he said, his voice low, gesturing vaguely toward the clock on her kitchen wall.

A violent wave of disappointment and embarrassment hit her square in the face. 

“Y-yeah,” she stammered, her cheeks burning as she frantically tried to compose herself. “You... you should probably get going.”

He nodded silently and slowly slipped off the barstool. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said, offering her a forced, tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Ashley forced one back to him and watched as he crossed the apartment towards her door.

He glanced behind him to look at her and muttered a small “goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” she echoed back, her voice barely above a whisper.

He closed the door slowly, as if hesitating, before finally shutting it completely. The sharp click of the lock seemed to echo far too loudly for her liking.

Ashley drew a sharp breath, and exhaled slowly, finally letting her shoulders drop as she tried to process what the hell had just happened. In the sudden silence of the apartment, a storm of emotions came flooding into her all at once. Disappointment hit the hardest, tangled up in a messy mix of embarrassment, a fuck ton of confusion, and… a tiny, unexpected hint of anger. She wasn’t even sure if it was meant for him or for her.

She exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her chest to try and still her frantically beating heart. Her eyes swept over the empty kitchen island, and that was when she noticed that the travel thermos she had set out for him was gone.

A small, breathy laugh escaped her lips as she stared at the empty spot on the marble counter.

“At least he took the coffee…” she murmured.

~~~~~

Ashley Graham did not sleep that night.

She desperately reached for her mug to take a long, miserable sip of the office coffee, barely even registering its burnt, bitter taste. It was a far cry from the smooth brew she made last night, but it would have to do. 

She let out a pathetic groan, her mind completely fogged over due to the lack of sleep, the heavy load of paperwork—including finishing the tedious audio transcriptions and writing detailed reports on exactly how the mission went—that she had been forced to deal with all morning, and the maddening fact that she had spent all night replaying what had happened—and still failing to make an ounce of sense out of it.

Giving up entirely, she spread herself across the table, pressing her cheek flat against the unforgiving, cold metal surface of the lounge table.

“You okay, girl?” Gina, one of her fellow interns, asked, setting down a heavy stack of folders with a sympathetic look.

“Yeah,” Ashley mumbled, her voice completely muffled against the tabletop. She lifted her head just enough to blink sleepily up at her friend. “Just… didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Doesn’t help that the coffee here is absolute garbage, huh?” her friend chuckled, pulling out the chair to settle down beside her.

“Well, at this point, I’m willing to take anything that keeps my eyes open,” Ashley replied, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“Heard you did a great job last night, though,” Gina said, shifting the folders to the side and offering a bright, encouraging smile. “Everyone’s talking about how smoothly the whole extraction went.”

Ashley offered a small smile. “Thanks, Gina.”

The lounge door swung open, and another colleague stepped into the room, sliding into the vacant chair on Ashley's other side.

“Hey, Liam,” Gina greeted.

“Hey, guys,” Liam replied enthusiastically. He took one look at Ashley and let out a low whistle. “Whoa, Ash, did you catch a bug or something?” he joked, gesturing to the heavy dark circles bruising the skin under her eyes.

Ashley playfully rolled her eyes, too exhausted to muster a comeback. “Hey, Liam.”

“What’s up with her?” Liam muttered, looking across her to Gina.

Gina shrugged as she popped open her lunchbox. “Not sure. Must be the mission last night. What time did you even go home?”

Ashley let out a low groan into the metal table. “Around… two in the morning?”

“Oof. Rough,” Liam sighed, leaning back against the frame of his chair. “How’d you even get a cab at that hour?”

“Leon drove me home,” she replied absentmindedly, not realizing how casually she had jusy said his name.

Her brain finally processed the words that had just tumbled out of her mouth.

"I-I mean Agent Kennedy," she stammered, then immediately realizing that correcting herself only ended up making her sound even more suspicious. "W-we've known each other for a while. No biggie," she tried to explain, trying to squash any potiential rumors that could spread.

The entire table went dead silent.

“As in… Leon S. Kennedy?" Gina asked, her eyes going wide as her growing interest became evident in her voice. She lowered her fork, leaning closer towards her. “The Leon S. Kennedy?”

“Are you guys… a thing or something?” Liam asked, his voice subtly dropping. 

Neither of the two noticed his shift in tone–Gina being far too excited, and Ashley, too occupied by her emotional turmoil.

Ashley shook her head. “No,” she said. "No, there's nothing between us."

Her tongue tasted incredibly bitter after that. She wasn't sure if it was from the terrible office coffee or from verbalizing the truth out loud.

Gina let out a loud, exasperated sigh beside her, dropping her shoulders in clear disappointment. Life as a trainee in this department was intense, stressful, and mind-numbingly redundant. A romance between a fresh trainee and a legendary senior agent would have been so incredibly perfect. She’d keep it to herself, of course. (Probably).

Across the table, Liam let out a heavy sigh as well—although from an entirely different reason. The tight tension in his broad shoulders melted, and he sat back up, a small, hopeful smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Say, since it’s finally Friday, a bunch of the guys are talking about grabbing drinks tonight,” Liam said, striking while the iron was hot. He leaned a little closer, his tone casual. “You guys coming?”

“Um, duh?” Gina chuckled, not needing to be asked twice. “Count me in.”

"Nice," Liam nodded, smirking. Then turned his full attention back to Ashley. “You?”

Ashley paused, thinking about it for a moment. She and Ingrid were already in the middle of wrapping up the final details of the mission report, so finishing on time shouldn’t be a problem. Plus, tomorrow was finally the weekend. Unless Leon gets called out for some sudden, emergency mission, she wouldn’t have to report to the office until Monday. And honestly… a distraction wouldn’t be so bad right now.

She nodded, offering a small smile. “Sure, why not?”

Liam beamed at her answer, a bright, triumphant smile taking over his face. “Awesome. Alright, I’ll see you guys there then,” he said, practically floating as he stood up from his chair to head back to his desk.

Gina, ever the sharp observer, noticed the unusual extra chipperness of their friend. She eyed the swinging lounge door briefly, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across her lips before she turned her gaze back to Ashley, who was completely oblivious, entirely focused on finishing the very last of her bitter, lukewarm coffee as if it could somehow wash away her thoughts.

A distinct glint of pure mischief swirled within Gina's eyes. With Ashley's reaction at the mention of the legendary agent, and the skip in Liam's step as he walked away, she definitely had a very good idea of exactly what was going on.

And tonight, she was absolutely going to have some fun with it.

~~~~~

Ashley tapped the loose papers against the desk, aligning them into a neat file before pushing the stack to the edge of her workspace. Everything was finally finished. All that was left now was for Leon to come by, review the files, and verify everything with Hunnigan.

Exhaustion pulling heavily at her limbs, she stretched her arms over her head and leaned forward onto her desk. Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, her chin propped up precariously by her hand.

The distinct crinkling of a paper bag, followed by the light, metallic clink of something solid tapping onto her desk, jolted her awake.

Startled, her eyes instinctively snapped toward the source of the sound. Sitting right there on the polished wood, clean and unmistakable, was her travel thermos.

Her breath caught in her throat. She slowly traced her gaze upward, her chest tightening as she found Leon standing right beside her desk, looking down at her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered.

“Oh,” she said, her voice small as she tried to blink away the heavy fog of exhaustion. She sat up quickly, smoothing her clothes. “You’re here for the reports, right? Miss Hunnigan should be back in a bit. She just went out to get some coffee,” she added, doing her absolute best to sound completely casual.

A brief, weighted silence fell over them. Ashley’s eyes involuntarily drifted downward, landing on the crisp brown paper bag resting right beside her returned thermos.

“What’s that?” she asked, looking back up at him.

“Here,” he murmured, reaching out with a gloved hand to gently slide the bag a few inches closer to her.

She reached for it and peered inside. The rich, sweet scent of chocolate and almonds immediately hit her nose. Tucked neatly inside was a perfect, glossy chocolate éclair, alongside a colorful handful of delicate macarons. She stared at them, completely bewildered, her sleep-deprived mind still too fogged up to fully process what was happening.

“I said I owed you a treat,” he muttered, shifting his weight as he looked away.

“Oh,” she managed to say, the word leaving her in a breathy little exhale. Deep in her chest, her heart gave a sudden, traitorous flutter. She looked from the pastries back up to his face. “Thank you.”

Another heavy wave of silence stretched between them.

He didn't move away.

There it was again–that intense, heavy look in his eyes as he stared down at her. The same one that had left her breathless the night before.

She looked down slowly, unable to handle it. It would only confuse her more.

To their mutual relief, their silent spell was broken by a familiar sound echoing from the hallway outside. The sharp, rhythmic clicking of Hunnigan’s heels grew steadily louder as she approached the office doors.

“Oh, you’re here. Good,” Hunnigan said briskly as she stepped into the space, holding a mug in one hand and immediately settling into her own desk chair. Ashley had quickly started to rise, gesturing toward her own chair to offer it to Leon, but he simply gave a small, downward wave of his gloved hand. He refused with a quiet shake of his head, opting instead to remain standing right beside her workstation.

They finished reviewing the final files a bit earlier than they expected. Shuffling the verified documents into a neat stack, Hunnigan leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile, remarking on how things had been so much easier ever since she took Ashley under her wing.

Leon nodded slowly, his eyes shifting over to Ashley as he spoke in that low, steady tone of his. “I’m not surprised,” he said.

That only added to the emotional turmoil swirling in Ashley’s heart. Unable to bear it, she quickly looked away, pretending to fix her desk by frantically shifting around papers and straightening pens.

“By the way, the trainees are talking about going out drinking tonight. They pretty much invited everyone. You going?” Hunnigan mentioned casually, glancing up from her monitor to look over at Ashley, who was still aggressively organizing her desk. “Ash?”

Ashley jumped slightly, snapping out of her thoughts as she realized Hunnigan was addressing her. “Oh. Yeah, actually. I’ll be going.”

Leon’s head snapped toward her, a look of genuine surprise flickering across his face. “I didn’t think you'd like bars,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly.

She scoffed, a hint of bitterness seeping through before she could stop it. Leon noticed the edge in her tone immediately and felt a tinge of guilt.

“I can handle my alcohol quite well, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she replied coolly, refusing to meet his gaze.

Hunnigan immediately noticed the sudden, sharp tension in Ashley's voice. Her gaze darted between the two of them before settling entirely on the agent.

“How about you?” Hunnigan asked, her voice deceptively casual.

Leon looked over at her and found her eyes narrowed, piercing right through him with an accusing, sharp look that demanded to know what he had done.

He weighed his options under Hunnigan's suffocating glare and looked from her over to Ashley's resolutely turned shoulder. He swallowed.

“I… wouldn’t mind a little pick-me-up,” he finally replied.

Ashley wanted to scream.

CHAPTER 2

~Three nights ago~

Ingrid Hunnigan was in a bit of a pickle.

Originally, her role was to serve as the sole connection between Ashley and the Spain incident–specifically, Leon. 

The President had been firm. For his daughter's safety, the less they knew about each other, the safer she would be. But Ashley had been relentless. All she wanted was to know that Leon was okay once in a while. It was the least she could do for the man who saved her life. And so the deal was arranged. Hunnigan was then given strict orders to pass on only the most basic information.

Imagine her surprise when she received the email:

“Notice: Senior handlers will be assigned a trainee effective Monday. Please refer to the attached file for specific assignments.”

Her eyes bulged when she saw the name “Ashley Graham” right beside hers. She let out a sharp, quiet breath. “Well, this is quite the surprise,” she muttered. This wasn't something she expected on a Sunday evening. Suddenly, her work phone rang.

“Hunnigan,” she answered, her voice automatically shifting into its polished, official tone.

“I assume you’ve seen the notice regarding your new assignment?” The voice on the other end was stoic, the kind of tone that didn't leave room for small talk.

She leaned back in her chair, watching the cursor blink on her screen. “Yes. I have to admit… this isn't the usual career path for–”

“You’ve been chosen as Ms. Graham’s primary instructor,” the voice continued, completely cutting her off. “Given your history of correspondence over the past three years, the President feels you're the only one he can trust to oversee his daughter’s training.

“Well, what an honor,” she said, her sarcasm barely masking the exhaustion seeping through her voice. Under any circumstances, she would've been fine with it. Honestly, it was impressive. It's not every day you see the First Daughter passing up a cushy life to start as a mere trainee in a place like this. But being a trainer on top of the sea of paperwork, she was already drowning in? Hunnigan could practically feel the weight on her shoulders double.

She sighed, exhausted by the mere thought of it.

‘This shouldn't be too bad,’ she thought to herself. After all, the girl's got grit. Ingrid recalled how Ashley had managed to survive AND save Leon with nothing to defend herself with back in Spain. Now that she thought about it, working with someone who didn't act haughty and demanding like most of her superiors–much like the one she's on the phone with right now–doesn't sound too terrible.

“And what of Kennedy,” she asked, the initial arrangement coming to mind.

“What about him?”

“My initial orders. Do I have permission to notify him about this?”

The man on the other end paused, likely confirming his answer with someone. “Agent Kennedy has no business regarding Ms. Graham's decisions,” came the stoic reply. “If they happen to cross paths, then so be it.”

“Understood,” she nodded.

The call ended with a sharp click. She leaned back in her chair, letting the silence of the office settle. Well, it was out of her hands now. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“I can't wait to see the look on his face.”

~Present~

Yup, it was worth it. Leon's face was a hilarious mix of shock, excitement, confusion, and a tiiiiny bit of betrayal.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Leon asked, more surprised than angry.

Ingrid sighed, “Look, my hands were tied, alright?”

The two drifted into a hushed, rapid-fire bickering, the kind of argument only people who had trusted each other through life and death could have. Ashley stood there, awkwardly shifting her weight. She was worried her presence had just caused a rift between Leon and his handler. 

“Um… sh-should I go or..?” she stammered, trying to offer the two some privacy.

Ingrid sensed her discomfort and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Stay right where you are, Ashley. We’re about finished here anyway.” She turned her gaze back to Leon, her eyes piercing the agent, telling him to drop it before her trainee started to feel even worse. “Right, Leon?”

Leon sighed and nodded. “Yeah… Yeah, we’re kind of done with this.” Then he looked at Ashley. A subtle, genuine smile tugged at his lips, and that familiar softness returned to his eyes—the one that had helped her through the darkest corners of that nightmarish castle in Spain. “It’s good to see you again, Ashley.”

Her heart swelled. It had been forever since he looked at her like that. “It’s good to see you too, Leon,” she replied, smiling back.

The silence that followed was thick, filled with all the things they hadn't said in two years. Two seconds passed. Then three. Then…

Leon cleared his throat. “Well, time for me to get going,” he said, pushing himself off the stool to leave the cubicle. “Catch up later?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said—far too quickly for her own liking. She internally cringed at the desperation in her own voice, wishing she could pull the word back and try again with a little more "agent-in-training" coolness. But Leon just gave her one last smile and a nod before walking away.

Hunnigan didn't miss the way Ashley’s gaze lingered on the doorway long after Leon had disappeared. She smirked. As annoying as Leon could be with his endless supply of questionable one-liners, he was still, objectively speaking, a very attractive man. Even Hunnigan had felt the pull of a small crush back in the day. But, knowing the reality of their line of work, she’d nipped it in the bud, deciding they were much better off as trusted colleagues. Still, she could only imagine how Ashley must have felt in Spain, being rescued by one heck of a knight in shining tactical gear.

She let out a low chuckle. “Alright, come on, Juliet. We’ve got work to do.”

Ashley jumped, her face flushing a deep crimson at how obvious she’d been. “Right, sorry,” she muttered, rushing back to her senior’s side.

~~~~~

The rest of Ashley's day was a bit of a blur. She had been drowning in protocols and transcripts since Monday morning. As much as she hated to admit it, she could already feel the exhaustion creeping in. Not that she'd ever say that out loud. Being the president's daughter, she knew that taking a humbler career path meant she had effectively signed away her right to be tired. Every slip-up would be firepower against her, and she could already hear the rumors swirling among the other trainees. Still, she was glad her degree had finally come in handy. If there was anything she was good at, other than her surprisingly impressive ability to operate heavy machinery, it was gathering intelligence.

“Alright, that’s pretty much it for today. Thanks, Ashley,” Ingrid said, leaning back and stretching until her spine gave a satisfying pop. The mountain of paperwork actually felt manageable now. “Honestly, work has been a breeze since you started. You’ve got quite the knack for this.”

Ashley’s face lit up, a flush of pride rising to her cheeks. “I’m just glad I can actually help,” she said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she packed her bag. “I was really worried I’d just be in the way.”

“No, you don't give yourself enough credit. Do you know how impossible it’s been for me to leave before nine last week? Especially with that recent incident,” Ingrid said, reaching for her coat as she packed her own bag.

Ashley paused, her hand hovering over the zipper of her tote. She was the one who finished encoding the transcription from Leon's previous mission. She could still hear the audio in her mind—the way her heart had sunk as she listened to his ragged, pained breaths while he was trapped, injured in that chamber for hours with no backup in sight. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she looked at the doorway.

“Hey, don't worry about it,” Ingrid assured, her voice softening as she caught the shadow of concern crossing Ashley’s face. She snapped her briefcase shut with a decisive click. “That guy’s tougher than almost anything out there. Believe me, I’ve watched him walk out of situations that would have leveled a small city.”

‘Except, he actually did walk out of a situation that leveled a whole city,’ Ashley thought, her mind drifting to the events of Racoon City. She wasn’t there, but she would never forget the grainy video feed of the missile striking it right in the center. 

“He’s built to survive,” Ingrid said, her tone reassuring.

Ashley forced a small nod, trying to take the words to heart. “Yeah, you're right.”

Ingrid gave her knowing smile. “Now, go get some rest.”

~~~~~

Ashley stepped outside the building, fumbling for her wallet as she walked to the side of the road to hail a cab.

“No detail?”

Heat immediately rose up her neck. She turned quickly, her face lighting up as she locked eyes with familiar blue ones.

“Leon,” she called out. She was pleased to find that familiar smile again. “Yeah, well. Just trying to keep a low profile. And we both know what happened the last time I had one of those,” she said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder to hide her nervousness. She felt ridiculous for feeling like a schoolgirl.

Leon let out a short, impressed huff. “You must have some mad talent to persuade the President of the United States,” he joked, shifting his weight to one side with that effortless, cool confidence. The sight caught her breath for a moment.

She laughed. “Let's just say I was the captain of the debate team for a reason.” It hadn't been easy. Debate skills aside, it also took a fair amount of stubbornness to talk her father into agreeing to any of this.

The silence from before had returned, thick and sudden, stretching out as the city hummed in the background. 

Ashley looked at him, the weight of everything she wanted to say pressing heavily against her chest. But just when she was about to speak, her courage suddenly faltered, and she found herself slowly looking down at the ground.

It was funny, really. She had spent so long imagining exactly how this conversation would go. She had crafted the perfect sentences, prepared her witty remarks to match his dry humor, and rehearsed the delivery in her head. In her head, it would have been perfect.

She wanted to tell him how much he had changed her life, how she had done her best to make the most out of it. She wanted to ask if he was pushing himself too hard. And… although she knew she was being delusional, she wondered if he thought of her, too, once in a while. But facing him now, she couldn't utter a single word. 

Her throat felt tight.

“H-have–”

“How–”

They chuckled, and Leon motioned for her to go first.

“Have you had dinner yet?” She asked. 

She immediately started beating herself up again in the back of her mind. ‘Of course he hasn't had dinner yet, you idiot! Both of you just got out!’ 

Out of embarrassment, she doubled down. “W-wanna go get something to eat? I'll pay, of course. My treat. After all, it's been years since we've seen each other, and I literally owe you my life, so…” her voice trailed as her brain scrambled, desperately thinking of more excuses to get him to say yes.

Leon huffed, amused. He stepped closer. “I gotta remind you, though. I'm a field agent. I tend to eat a lot when I'm off the clock.”

“P-peace of cake. American royalty, remember?” She said, flicking her hand to feign confidence. He didn’t need to know that she had sworn not to touch her father's credit card unless it was an emergency, so… technically, she was living on a mere trainee's paycheck.

Leon let out a low chuckle that sent her heart into such a fluttering mess that her chest started hurting. 

“I'm kidding. Come on, I'll pay,” he said, already turning and motioning for her to follow.

Ashley felt the heat climb all the way to the tips of her ears, embarrassed by how quickly he saw through her facade. She followed him to the building's garage, feeling thoroughly defeated (but secretly relieved that her bank account lived to see another day).

As they walked, she found herself staring at his back. It was broader than she remembered, the tactical gear replaced by a sharp leather jacket that couldn't quite hide the lean muscle underneath. She felt another rush of heat and quickly looked down at her shoes, slamming the door on thoughts that she had absolutely no business having.

Up ahead, a sleek, matte-black motorcycle sat under the dim garage lights.

“Cool ride,” she said, her voice echoing slightly in the concrete space.

“Thanks,” he replied. He unclipped a matching matte-black helmet from the side of the bike and turned, holding it out to her. “Here.”

She looked at it, brows furrowed. “What about you?”

“Don't worry. I'm a pretty hard-headed guy,” he joked.

Ashley rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her mouth despite her nerves. “I can see that,” she murmured, taking the helmet from his hands. “Thanks.” 

She pulled it over her head, muffling the world around her. Immediately, the scent of him, a pleasant mix of musk and clean cologne, filled her lungs and sent her head reeling. To make matters worse, she could feel him watching her through the visor, his blue eyes tracking her fumbling fingers as he waited for that definitive click. She eventually managed to lock the harness, much to her relief. Any second longer under his gaze would have physically melted her. 

“All set,” she announced.

Leon took a second to take in the sight in front of him. The helmet was comically large compared to how small she was. He stifled a laugh. Then, he noticed something amiss. “No coat?”

Ashley looked up. “Oh. No, no, this is fine. This shirt's pretty warm,” she immediately said, gesturing to her long sleeves. She worried that he would probably offer his jacket next. He had already saved her life, lent her his helmet, and was even treating her to a meal. She can't take his jacket now.

“You sure? It's starting to get pretty cold these days.”

“Yeah, I'm sure. Come on, are you gonna treat me or are you going to keep stalling?”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. Someone's demanding,” he said, swinging a leg over the bike. He turned the ignition, and the engine roared to life–a deep, mechanical growl that vibrated through the concrete floor. He offered his arm to help her mount, and she carefully settled behind him, sitting sidesaddle because of her skirt. 

“You still into thrill rides?” He shouted over the noise. The question was a callback to the time they fled the island on a jet ski, eliciting a genuine laugh from her. 

“Always!” she called back.

Leon gave the throttle two sharp revs, letting the engine's roars echo off the walls one last time before surging forward. The sudden, violent jolt of acceleration threw her off balance, forcing a startled squeal from her.

~~~~~

As they banked onto the highway, the wind whipped around her, and the distance she had tried to maintain disappeared completely. The sheer physics of the acceleration forced her to close the gap, her hands finding their way to his waist and clutching his jacket with a grip that was anything but… “professional.”

It didn't take long for her to realize her “warm shirt” was no match for the biting cold of the night air. She tucked her head slightly behind his shoulder, using him as a shield against the wind. She held her breath, trying to stop herself from shivering, painfully aware that her black tights were doing absolutely nothing to keep her knees from freezing.

“Where are we going?” Ashley shouted, her voice nearly swallowed by the wind.

“There's a good place I know. We're almost there!” he yelled back over his shoulder.

Soon, the bike slowed down as they turned towards what looked like a modest “hole-in-the-wall" Thai restaurant. A rich aroma hit her nose as they approached, and as if on cue, her stomach let out a traitorous grumble. She hoped the engine masked it somehow. 

Leon parked the bike, letting the engine idle for a few moments before finally turning the ignition off.

Ashley slid off her seat, followed quickly by Leon. She took a deep breath of what was unmistakably Pad Thai. “That smells amazing.”

“Told ‘ya,” he replied. “Come on, there should still be some seats.”

“Yeah, one sec,” she muttered. 

She reached for her chin, her cold-nipped fingers fumbling blindly with the helmet's harness. She couldn't quite figure out how to unlock the damn thing. She was also painfully aware of Leon standing there, watching her struggle with that boyish grin of his, clearly amused by the sight of her struggling.

Just as she was about to let out a frustrated huff, his shadow fell over her. He had stepped into her space, completely blocking out the streetlamps, and his hands moved towards her neck, brushing against the ice-cold tips of her fingers.

“Easy,” he murmured. “Let me.”

Ashley's body went stiff. She could only stare at him, her breath hitching as he worked. In those few seconds, her eyes had locked themselves on his face. She noticed the long sweep of his lashes and the rough stubble that carved his jaw into a sharper, more defined shape. Another layer of red dusted her cheeks on top of the flush she got from the cold.

With a soft click, the buckle released. He gently eased the helmet off, revealing her face, which was now a telltale shade of crimson. 

“I thought your shirt was warm enough,” he teased, a glimmer of amusement in his blue eyes. He had clearly assumed her cheeks were red because of the cold.

“Yeah, well, I thought so too,” she sighed.

He let out a soft huff of a laugh, turning back to the bike to secure the helmet to the frame. He didn’t linger on her embarrassment. Instead, he only gestured for her to start heading toward the entrance. 

“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

~~~~~

Leon opened the door, and a wave of humid, fragrant air, heavy with the scent of lemongrass, galangal, and roasted chilies, rushed to meet them. Ashley breathed it in, the warmth feeling like a physical embrace after the biting cold back on the highway. 

As he guided her across the small space, he gave a short, familiar nod to the owner. The older man raised a curious brow at the sight of the woman in tow. Still, he knew better than to pry into the business of his regulars.

He guided her to a booth tucked in the back corner, far enough from the smoke and steam from the kitchen, but still comfortably warm. He instinctively chose the seat with a clear view of the entrance, his eyes doing a quick, subconscious sweep of the room. Then, he waited for Ashley to slide into the seat across him before he sat himself down. 

When the server approached with the menus, Ashley offered a grateful smile and muttered a “thank you.” The server nodded, telling them to call him whenever they were ready, and went back to stand by the counter.

Ashley scanned through the laminated pages, all the pictures looking equally appetizing. Unable to pick, she decided to ask Leon, seeing how he seemed to be a regular in this place. She looked up from the menu and almost jumped when she found him already looking back at her. 

She cleared her throat, regaining her composure. “Everything looks so good. What do you recommend?”

Leon leaned back, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Hmm. You seemed to like how the Pad Thai smelled earlier.”

Ashley felt another massive brick in her emotional wall (if there was even one) instantly crumble into dust.

‘Calm down, Ashley Graham. He’s an agent. Of course he's naturally observant. It doesn’t mean anything.’ She took a shallow, steadying breath, anchoring herself to reality. ‘Yeah… it doesn’t mean anything.’

“Pad Thai it is, then,” she said.

Leon nodded and called for the waiter. He put in his and her orders, along with some Thai Iced Tea for both of them, and some Chicken Satay for appetizers. The server nodded, telling them that he would be back with the appetizers and drinks in a few minutes.

A heavy silence settled over the table, filled only by the rhythmic, metallic clatter of a wok from the kitchen and the low, distant murmur of the other diners. Leon broke it first.

“Hunnigan said you started last Monday?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” she replied, her fingers tracing the neat, stamped edge of her paper napkin to keep her hands busy.

“How was… work so far?”

Ashley chuckled nervously and sighed a little, “It’s okay. Got a little overwhelmed at the beginning, but you know… Nothing I can’t handle.”

Leon nodded, his gaze dropping as he suddenly found the pattern on the paper mat interesting. “Good, good…”

The silence stretched again.

This time, it was Ashley’s turn to break it.

“How about you? I heard about your recent mission.” Leon looked up, his full attention snapping back to her. “I, uh… I was the one who finished the transcript…”

“Yeah…” Leon leaned back slightly, his expression relaxing just a fraction. “It wasn’t so bad. I still made it out in one piece.” His voice softened instinctively when he caught the shadow of a worried frown crossing her face.

“Still… I don't think they gave you enoigh time to rest...” her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t like she could reprimand him for doing his job, and she certainly could not tell him to quit either. As far as he’s concerned, she was just the girl he rescued years ago who happened to be his newest colleague.

“I’m fine, Ashley,” he reassured. “If anything, I should be worried about you.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Me?” 

Leon leaned forward across the table, his arms resting on the vinyl as he lowered his voice. “You do know the circumstances behind this mission right? That means…”

Her mouth formed a small o, understanding where the conversation was heading. She pursed her lips together, a cold knot tying itself in her stomach, and she nodded slowly. “Yeah… Yeah, I know. Hunnigan informed my father about it.”

“So, why are you here?” He asked. 

The question was direct, stripped of all the previous playful banter. His sudden, intense seriousness slightly caught her off guard, pinning her to the back of the booth.

“Well…” She glanced at him and found him staring at her, waiting for her answer. “I… figured that I wasn’t safe anywhere anyway, even if my father flung me to the edge of the world. I don’t think I can trust any kind of security detail, either…” She paused for a moment, looking for the right words. “I’d… rather know exactly what’s going on than stay in the dark if I’m gonna get taken away again anyway.”

Leon stared at her, his expression unreadable as her words settled. Then, slowly, he gave a single, firm nod.

He got it. Better than anyone, he understood the desperate need to see the threat coming instead of being blindsided by it. Still, a stubborn part of him felt deeply uneasy. By joining the agency, she had practically put herself in harm’s way. He wasn't sure how deep the rot ran within the government. Hell, he wasn’t even confident they rooted out every single mole in his own agency. 

But… he just couldn’t be mad at her. He thought about it. His agency was still among the most secure branches in the government. Plus, having her close felt pretty reassuring. At least now, it’s easier for him to know that she’s safe.

The server arrived with a sudden, welcome clatter, placing a platter of sizzling chicken satay, and two glasses of iced tea between them. The rich, savory scent of grilled meat and warm peanut sauce instantly filled the space, breaking the heavy tension. Both muttered a quick thanks to the server before he retreated back to the counter. Leon picked up a stick, his demeanor shifting back into something softer as he looked across the table at her.

“Why a handler?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Well… I wanted to be an agent, but…” Ashley ducked her head, hiding her embarrassed smile. “You know how terrible I am with knives.”

This time, it was his turn to laugh. 

It was short, but entirely genuine. A rich, bright sound that caught her completely off guard. She froze for a split second, startled. Up until now, the absolute closest she’d ever heard him come to laughing were those quiet, amused huffs he made under his breath. But this was a true laugh, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

A warm wave of pride washed over her, and she found herself laughing right alongside him. With the mood now lightened, she felt more at ease. She leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand as she looked at him, her smile now bright and effortless.

"How have you been, Leon?" she asked, the question softer this time, more personal.

His smile lingered, though it shifted into a smaller, more tired version of the one he’d just shared. “Well… as good as any field agent can be,” he replied. He hesitated, unsure of how much to elaborate; he would always choose to spare her the grotesque, exhausting details of his job. “Have some of this. It’s good,” he offered gently, sliding the plate of chicken satay toward her side of the table.

Ashley obliged, taking a skewer. One question hung in her mind. She hesitated at first, but then she took a breath, trying to sound casually interested even as her heart hammered violently against her ribs.

“Have you… met anyone special?” she asked, finding herself suddenly recalling the striking, mysterious woman in red who kept crossing their paths back in Spain. She secretly dreaded the answer.

“Oh, no,” Leon replied, shaking his head as he stared into his tea. “I’m always out in the field. I… never really had the time, even if I wanted to.”

It was true. He once longed for that kind of normalcy. But of course, his line of work wasn't exactly fit for a domestic life. Plus, he wouldn’t want to put anyone in harm’s way just because of him.

At his answer, Ashley felt a rush of relief, only for it to be immediately swallowed by am wave of disappointment. ‘Even if he wanted to, huh?’ she repeated in her head. ‘That… probably means he doesn’t want to.’

She caught herself before a frown gave her away, forcing her lips into a playful smirk instead. “Huh. I thought you would have by now,” she teased, fighting to keep her voice light despite the weight in her chest. “You’re quite the looker, you know. Plus points for the cool bike.”

He huffed and shook his head at the compliment. “What about you?” he asked.

“Well, I tried, but… none of them really worked out,” she admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I even almost got engaged once.”

Leon’s eyes widened, his glass pausing halfway to his mouth. “Wow. I didn’t hear about that on the news.”

“Yeah, we kept it private. But then six months in, and I found out he was seeing someone else,” she said, offering a casual shrug.

“Sorry…” Leon muttered, his brow furrowing as he looked at her.

“No, don’t be. It was for the best,” she reassured him. “Honestly, when I found out he was looking at rings, all I could feel was dread.”

He huffed, his face grimacing. “Sounds like a major jerk.”

“He definitely was,” Ashley laughed. 

She took a sip of her tea to hide her growing smile. Seeing Leon getting a little angry on her behalf was doing more for her heart than any engagement ring that ex ever could.

As if on cue, the server returned, balancing two large, steaming plates. The sharp, savory scent of garlic and stir-fried basil making Ashley’s mouth water.

“Pad Thai for the lady,” the man said, sliding the plate in front of Ashley. “And Basil Pork for you, sir.”

“Thanks,” Leon muttered. He glanced at Ashley, a quiet satisfaction settling in his chest when he saw the sheer delight on her face. He watched as she lifted a steaming tangle of noodles with her chopsticks, slurping them carefully as she tried to keep herself from making a mess.

“Mmm…” she hummed, the sound low as her eyes fluttered shut in genuine appreciation of the meal.

Leon’s spoon stopped dead midair. 

The sound had hit Leon like lightning, and he felt… something.

It was sudden.

It was… primal.

“Oh, Leon, this is so good!"

Leon swallowed hard, his eyes suddenly fixated on her mouth, hyperaware of the way the savory sauce had left her lips looking slick and glossy in the dim, golden light of the restaurant. He felt it again–that heavy sensation that made his collar feel several sizes too tight. He shifted in the booth, unsure of what to do with what he was feeling. He discreetly unbuttoned his collar and shoved a spoonful in his mouth, almost choking on a piece of meat.

He should have kept his damn eyes on his own plate. 

Regret washed over him the second he saw her tucking her hair behind her ear as she slurped some more of her noodles, her head tilted slightly forward and downward, which made her eyelashes cast a long shadow down her face. Her cheeks hollowed slightly as she slurped.

His mouth went bone-dry.

‘Oh, what the fuck…’ he groaned in his head. 

He reached for his iced tea, which, to his dismay, was already half empty. He chugged it down before signaling the server with a slightly-too-urgent gesture for a refill.

Ashley glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly as she took in his flushed face and the empty glass. “Everything okay? Did they make yours too spicy?” she asked, her voice innocent and filled with concern.

Leon didn't trust his voice. He just gave a stiff nod and waited for the server to arrive. 

He had no idea where this was coming from. He had been fine literally minutes ago. ‘Get it together, Kennedy,’ he scolded himself internally, genuinely irritated by his own sudden lack of self-control. He had gone to hell and back more times than he could count, surviving all kinds of nightmarish biological horrors without so much as flinching, yet here he was, coming undone because a girl was enjoying her meal. 

He felt like a damn dog.

The server finally arrived, refilling both of their glasses. Leon didn't even wait for the man to walk away before he reached for his, desperate to have something cold to enter his system. 

Ashley was still watching him, her head tilted slightly in concern. “Leon? Are you sure you’re alright? Y-you’re not allergic to anything, are you..?”

Leon took a long, slow draw of the iced tea, letting the chill numb his throat before he dared to speak. He looked across the table at her, seeing the genuine worry in her large green eyes. He felt a tinge of guilt.

She was scared for him, and here he was, busy getting all worked up.

“Sorry…” he finally managed to say, his voice a little rougher than intended. He cleared his throat. “Just choked on a piece of meat, that’s all.”

Ashley watched him for a second longer, her gaze lingering as if she was trying to read him. 

“Alright…” she replied, the tension in her shoulders finally dissipating. “You scared me a little,” she laughed softly. She turned back to her Pad Thai, seemingly satisfied with his explanation. 

He took another deliberate sip of his tea, trying to use the cold liquid as an anchor. But despite his best efforts, his gaze drifted right back to her over the rim. To his absolute horror, her hand found its way back to her temple, tucking that same stubborn lock of hair behind her ear.

He violently wrenched his eyes away, staring down at the table, genuinely terrified of what his own brain would do next if he didn’t.

Fortunately, the rest of the meal passed without further incident. The sharp, suffocating tension from moments ago finally settled into a comfortable, easy silence, punctuated by the rhythmic clink of silverware and the light, casual conversation that drifted naturally between them. 

They traded pieces of the lives they had built in their years apart. Leon spoke vaguely of the cities he had been to–places that otherwise would have been fun tourist vacation spots, but to him were target areas for his missions.

In return, Ashley told him about the extreme things she had done and talked about how she wanted to do paragliding next. Leon shared how he spent his rare days off–mostly sleeping.

Soon enough, their plates were cleared, leaving only a few stray grains of rice and the lingering scent of basil and lime. He settled the cheque, before facing her again.

“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice finally steady.

“Yeah,” she replied, offering him a small smile. She began shuffling to the edge of the booth, her movements a bit awkward in the narrow space as she tried to get herself out.

He left the tip on the table and ushered her toward the door, his hand instinctively hovering just inches from the small of her back. Ashley, entirely oblivious to the gesture, offered a bright "thank you!" to the waiter as they walked past. Leon met the owner’s eye as they reached the front, giving a single, appreciative nod.

Once they stepped out, the crisp evening air greeted them, flushing Ashley’s cheeks a healthy pink. She turned back to him, watching as Leon let the restaurant door swing shut with a quiet click.

“You up for some dessert?” she asked.

Leon raised a brow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Whoa. I just treated you to a full meal, you know,” he joked.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “My treat, of course, you jerk,” she quipped, nudging his arm with her shoulder.

“Oh, well, why didn’t you say so?” His smirk widened a little. Leon wasn’t a big fan of desserts. Hadn’t been for a while, now. Still, he decided to indulge her, just for tonight.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She laughed, hopping down the steps. The meal they shared left her in such a good mood.

“You really want dessert, huh?” He commented, noticing the slight skip in her step.

She didn't wait for him, already turning toward the sidewalk. “I saw a patisserie just down the block. I wonder if they have eclairs.”

Leon followed her down, his long strides easily matching her pace. “Alright,” he conceded, his tone warm. “Lead the way, Agent Graham.”

~~~~~

Sadly, there were no more eclairs left. But, they didn't leave empty-handed either. Ashley got herself a golden croissant oozing with rich chocolate filling, and Leon picked out a simple pain au chocolat. Because the staff was already flipping the chairs to close up for the night, Leon suggested taking their pastries down to the nearby waterfront.

The ride to the waterfront was short. He steered the bike down the sloping streets, the engine’s deep, mechanical rumble echoing sharply off the historic brick of Georgetown.

He finally tucked the motorcycle into a quiet, shadowed spot near the park’s entrance. Thankfully, there weren’t many people out tonight. The park was practically theirs.

The wind coming off the Potomac was sharper here, carrying the scent of deep water. Ashley spotted a bench by the water, and led him there. They sat down together, the old timber creaking slightly under their weight. She opened the bakery's paper bag with an eager crinkle, passing Leon his pastry before carefully lifting her own out of the wrapping.

They sat in silence, appreciating the quiet and the reflection of the city lights in the water.

She suddenly giggled, pointing across the river toward the horizon with the tip of her croissant. “Look. It’s the Kennedy Center.”

Across the dark, shimmering expanse of the river, the massive performing arts center stood like a glowing marble fortress, its long rows of golden-white pillars perfectly mirrored in the black water below.

Leon looked from the massive, historic landmark to the small pastry in her hand. He let out a chuckle. “That was such a terrible joke,” he said, teasing. He shook his head and took a bite of his pastry.

“Like yours are any better,” Ashley countered, nudging his arm with her shoulder. The playful impact elicited another another low chuckle from him. But as the laughter died down, a new kind of silence settled between them.

“You know,” she started, her eyes fixed on the dark, churning water of the river. Leon turned his head toward her, waiting quietly for whatever she was about to say. “You have no idea how much you changed my life.”

His eyes widened slightly, his jaw stopping mid-chew. The sudden admission caught him completely off guard.

“Before Spain, before… you,” she started. “it felt like I was just watching my life happen from a distance. After my mom died, I think I just stopped being a person. I was just… the president's daughter. I had to look right, stand right, say the right things, or else my father's approval rating would start tanking. Eventually, I was just… kind of numb to it all.”

She paused, turning her head to look directly at him. The moment she registered how he was staring at her, a sudden wave of panic hit her. “N-not that it was all bad, of course! It naturally came with its perks. And it was definitely… nothing compared to anything you went through, but…” 

He didn’t interrupt her, just watched her intently. The look in his eyes that showed his genuine intention to listen calmed her a little. She took a breath before she continued. 

“Ever since Spain, I realized that life is way too unpredictable and scary, and… if life is going to be like that anyway, then I figured I should just do whatever the hell I wanted. It’s cliché, I know, but… It’s just different once you actually experience getting to that realization.”

A small, genuine smile began to pull at her lips. “Since then, I’ve done my best to live my life to the fullest. I finished my degree, I traveled, I met so many people…”

Leon smiled, his chest swelling with something close to pride. He remembered the time he learned about her visits to the orphans of Raccoon City, and the children left behind because of biowarfare. She had done it without the mass media knowing.

“You know I even went freaking sky diving last summer,” she added with a short chuckle. Then she finally turned to face him, locking her eyes with his. “I basically started seeing the world through different eyes. You gave me the chance to live my life differently, Leon. Thank you.”

He looked away, letting out a soft huff as a mix of pride and embarrassment tightened his chest. “You know, I was just doing my jo–”

“Yeah, yeah, I knew you were going to say that,” she interrupted gently, a knowing sparkle in her eyes. She reached over, her fingers wrapping around his wrist to give it a firm, sincere squeeze. “Just accept my gratitude, will you? Please?”

His eyes met hers. They really were different, now. The scared girl trapped in a church in Spain had grown into someone so much stronger. Someone who had built a life on her own terms. Yet, looking closely, he could see that the fierceness in her eyes had remained–the same one he saw when she was swinging a heavy iron candelabra at his head the very first time they met. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Alright,” he conceded.

“See? That wasn't so hard,” she giggled. Satisfied with her victory, she let go of him and took a celebratory bite of her chocolate croissant, looking back out over the shimmering, dark expanse of the Potomac.

Silence again, until a sharp gust of wind swept through them. She shivered.

“Here.” 

Before she could even think to protest, Leon had already draped his jacket over her shoulders.

The weight of it was instantly comforting, enveloping her in the rich scent of worn leather and a faint hint of his cologne. She secretly relished the lingering, radiating warmth trapped within the lining.

“Thanks,” she murmured, unable to stop her smile as another blush crept up to her cheeks. She looked away toward the water, nervously tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Look,” Leon started, his voice dropping into a low, serious register. “I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, but... just... don't go doing anything dangerous, got it?”

She huffed dramatically, tilting her head back to look at him as she feigned deep offense. “Me? Dangerous? Of course not.”

Leon remained completely silent, his gaze fixed on her face, entirely unsatisfied with her playful evasion.

The humor faded from her expression, replaced by something softer, more earnest. She faced him again. “Look… you don't have to worry about me, alright? I'm not your responsibility anymore.”

"Wrong,” he countered instantly. “You still are."

She almost choked on her spit. "Excuse me?"

He smirked, that playful glint returning to his eyes. "At least, until I get you home safely.”

The breath rushed back into her lungs, and she let out a soft, relieved laugh. “Fair enough. I don’t really want to try looking for a cab at this hour anyway.”

“And I wasn't gonna let ‘ya.” He said that ever so casually, like it didn't just make her heart do a violent, erratic flip in her chest.

She hid that with another laugh. “It really is getting late. We should probably go,” she said, standing up.

“Yeah,” he agreed, rising to follow her.

“Oh, here,” she said, reaching for the lapels of his jacket. Still, a small, greedy part of her silently hoped he wouldn't take it back just yet.

“Keep it on,” he commanded softly. His hands tugged at the jacket, settling it back securely on her shoulders. “The wind is picking up. It's colder than it was earlier.”

She smiled to herself, secretly pleased. “Thanks.”

-

The ride back to her apartment took longer than it probably should have, with Leon taking a noticeably slower speed. Ashley wasn't complaining, though. As stupid as it was, she enjoyed just being there… with him. 

She leaned slightly into his back, the heavy leather of his jacket shielding her from the rushing wind. But before she could fully delude herself into thinking he was driving slow because he didn't want her to freeze–or worse, because a part of him didn't want the night to end yet, just like her–she decided to distract herself with the blurred lights of the passing cityscape.

Leon took a smooth turn to the left, finally bringing the bike to a gentle stop in front of a sleek, modern apartment complex facing a quiet park. They were undeniably in one of the fancier parts of town.

“Nice place,” he commented, killing the ignition. 

She slid down and chuckled nervously, a little embarrassed by her obviously lavish accommodations despite her rookie status. “Yeah… Not exactly what you'd expect from a mere trainee, huh? My dad wouldn't let me pick a simpler place…”

He nodded, turning slightly in the seat to look at her. “I don't blame him. It's good. Secure.”

His gaze lingered on her, watching as she began frantically fingering the strap beneath her chin, desperately trying to figure out how to unlock the helmet clip by herself.

“Need help?” he offered, already rising to assist.

“No, no! I got it, just give me a minute,” she said hurriedly, her fingers working twice as fast… and twice as clumsily. She didn't know what would have happened to her if he came up close to her again.

After a while, she does figure it out and takes it off herself, the plastic lock finally popping open with a satisfying click. She slid the heavy helmet off her head, letting out a breath as her hair fell around her shoulders. 

“Here,” she said, handing the helmet back to him. “Thanks for driving me home. And it really will be my treat next time. I promise.”

He smiled. “I'll look forward to that.”

He took the helmet from her hands, sliding it easily over his own head. The engine roared back to life, filling the quiet street. He opened his visor, revealing his eyes. They were strikingly blue compared to the sleek black of his helmet. “I'll see you at work, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled back.

He nodded. “Goodnight, Ashley.”

“Goodnight, Leon.”

He closed his visor, and gave the horn a brief double-beep before twisting the throttle, the motorcycle speeding off down the avenue.

Ashley stood on the sidewalk for a moment, just watching the red glow of his taillights fade. A sudden, sharp gust of wind swept across the park, rustling the trees. Reflexively, she pulled her arms tightly against her chest, her fingers burying into the thick, protective lapels of the garment she was wearing.

Wait.

“OH!” she exclaimed out loud to the empty street, her eyes snapping wide as she realized exactly why the freezing midnight air hadn't bit through her clothes yet. “Leon!”

She lunged toward the curb, waving her arms in a sudden panic. “Leon! Wait! Your jacket!”

But her voice was completely swallowed by the distant rumble of his exhaust. She watched in disbelief as the bike effortlessly tilted into a smooth turn to the left, disappearing behind the brick corner of the block.

He was gone.

Ashley stood frozen under the amber glow of the streetlamp, the silence of street settling around her. She looked down at herself, completely swallowed by the oversized, warm leather that still smelled faintly of his cologne. A slow, helpless smile began to spread across her face as she buried her nose into the collar.

"He smells really good..."