RECORD P1-06

Knew You'd Have My Back

Leon entered the apartment, although he had texted Jill earlier that he wouldn't make it.

Things had changed.

They usually did.

Plans rarely survived first contact with reality.

He looked around the apartment, hoping to see her, but was only greeted by the empty takeout boxes on the coffee table and a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's.

He recognized it immediately.

Too many nights of his own had ended exactly like this.

The drinking was never really about getting drunk.

It was about quieting the noise in your head long enough to survive the night.

About blurring the sharp edges of memories that never truly left.

Leon's eyes lingered on the bottle for a moment longer than necessary.

Somehow, seeing Jill slip into the same habits unsettled him more than his own ever had.

Assuming she had already gone to bed, he quietly made his way toward his room.

He was a little disappointed, realizing he would have actually liked to spend the evening with her.

Jill had a way of making even silence feel less exhausting.

Somewhere between shared dinners, sarcastic banter and evenings spent watching whatever happened to be on TV, Jill had quietly found her way into parts of his life he had deliberately kept empty for years.

Now, even something as small as coming home to an empty apartment felt strangely disappointing.

She always had the right answer to his jokes.

But beneath them she carried a seriousness that made him feel understood in ways he rarely allowed himself to think about.

Especially tonight.

Today had gone to shit.

And for the first time in a long while, Leon found himself wanting someone to talk to about it.

He'd never say that aloud.

He didn't need to.

He already knew Jill would ask.

Already halfway down the hall, Leon paused.

The bathroom light was still on.

The door stood slightly open, steam drifting lazily into the dark apartment.

At first he only meant to check if she was okay.

The half-empty whiskey bottle on the table had put him on edge more than he wanted to admit.

Through the fogged shower glass he could only make out parts of her silhouette.

Wet hair.

Bare shoulders.

The outline of toned muscles softened by steam.

But then he heard her breathing. Uneven. Quiet. Intimate.

Realization hit him all at once and Leon froze immediately.

He should leave, he knew that.

But after the kind of day he'd had, the simple proof that another person was there—alive, warm, breathing only a few feet away—rooted him to the spot for one second too long.

He had never looked at Jill that way before.

Not really. Not beyond the legend. The survivor. The woman who always seemed stronger than everyone else in the room.

But standing there now, half hidden behind steam and exhaustion, desperate to feel something, she suddenly felt terribly human.

Suddenly, the water shut off.

Leon snapped back to reality.

"Woah, Valentine," he called out quickly, loud enough to announce his presence.

"Do you always leave the bathroom door open?"

Jill startled violently.

"Fucking hell, Kennedy! You scared the shit outta me!"

For a split second she reacted on instinct before realizing—far too late—that she had stepped into his view.

Leon looked exhausted.

Shirt torn.

Hair disheveled.

Every muscle in his body seemed tense beneath his skin.

Something had clearly gone wrong.

For a moment, the carefully crafted government agent disappeared, leaving behind someone much more familiar.

Jill saw it in his eyes.

A glimpse of the rookie beneath all the years of trauma and training.

The vulnerability Leon usually buried beneath jokes and easy confidence.

But she caught it anyway.

And suddenly he didn't look like a legendary agent.

He just looked tired.

Human.

The realization pulled at her more than she wanted to admit.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..."

Leon mumbled apology after apology, unable to meet her eyes for more than a heartbeat at a time.

Jill quickly reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself before retreating to her room.

A few moments later she heard the shower turn on again.

The thought alone sent warmth through her chest.

Jill groaned softly into her pillow.

This was bad.

Really bad.

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