#* leon.

there's someone in her kitchen, standing in front of her fridge, a man that both is and is not leon hiram marshall. she can tell even from ten feet away that he smells different, almost like lead. his dark blonde hair is long and scraggly, jaw covered with a bushy, unkempt beard, and he's wearing what she can only describe as some kind of tracksuit. there is an idle part of her that wonders if she's merely imagining his face on that of a stranger's. she stares long enough that she can feel the seconds trickle by like sand, that she can feel the blood run from her face and her heart slow, then pick up as the realization sets in that this is not her imagination. she opens her mouth to speak, for the first time in what feels like years. " leon ? "

his concern, if not a joke, is endearing. elia tries and fails to hide her smile, quickly looking away in the hope he might not notice. by the time she dares to glance back at him, the unfathomable look in his clear green eyes hasn't changed. her laughter dies in her throat, replaced by a strange quiver of her fragile heart, a feeling that makes itself known in the rosy color that rises to her neck and cheeks, a dryness in her mouth. she once again becomes conscious of how handsome he is, even this close up, especially this close up a thought never too far from her mind anyway. he was the last person she'd expected to be hiring a ranch hand.

" careful there, hiram, " elia quips. she turns back to the gentle-natured gelding, who merely raises his head slightly, gazing back at her with sweet, long-lashed brown eyes. he barely responds when she hoists herself into the leather saddle. she winks down at her boss, a smile finding her face again. " someone might think you have a soft spot under all that armor. "

the ranch is large and beautiful, if strangely quiet. there's a number of horses turned out, grazing calmly, their tails sweeping to keep the flies off. one, a beautiful spotted appaloosa, raises its head and nickers softly, ears pinned forward. elia hovers at the fence that warns it's private property, hesitant to enter without permission. she has no desire to get run off by some farmhand. " hello ? " she calls out. it feels silly to shout into the wind, but it beats waiting half an hour for someone to come out and find her. " i'm here about your advert ? "

tap. tap. tap. elia slowly paces around the room for the third time. she sucks in a slow breath, exhales again. it still feels new, her lungs expanding to their full width, gathering enough air to feel alive. she stops to run a finger over the glass tabletop. spotless, of course. perfect. like everything else at vought. that, too, is still taking some getting used to.

she sits down in a large leather chair, leans back against the seat. today is supposed to be her first meeting, but everyone else seems to be running late. she has no idea what to expect, what they'll want from her. there's only one person like her that she's actually met. and he's off god knows where.

" –you're sitting in my seat. "

elia jerks in the seat. her head whips up, a startled gasp sounding from her lips when she catches sight of the figure in the doorway. her cheeks flush a deep pink. she stands up unsteadily, pushing the chair back, stammers an illegible response. " i... " elia nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. she has been waiting to see him for years, plotting her response carefully, yet now that he is here it seems all her senses have deserted her. she swallows. " no one told me you were back from europe. welcome home, captain. "

“ hey- hey ! let him go ! ” though usually not keen on risk - taking or revealing what she is, not since captain vought died, elia rushes towards the long-haired, wild - looking stranger. she tugs hard at the arm keeping her boyfriend in a firm headlock, hard enough to break the elbow of any ordinary human- but it does not give. she inhales sharply in surprise, gaze darting to the stranger. for the first time, she catches his mesmerizing green eyes, glinting with anger and distrust. the flare of recognition hits her so suddenly, so hard that she physically recoils, breath wrangled from her throat. no. no, that's impossible. her previous concern for tom is completely forgotten, replaced by a sick dawning realization, mixed with a glimmer of hope that she does not yet fully dare to feel. it's not possible. elia begins to shake violently. “ leon ?! ” she says, but the sound comes out as barely a whisper.