Almost three years since Spain, a weary Leon returns to the agency after a three-day leave, following a sabotaged mission that nearly cost him his life. He didn't expect to find a sea of new recruits. But most of all, he didn't expect to find Ashley Graham among them.
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.
people are confused “unsolicited criticism in fanfics is rude” with “fanfics are above criticism.” no one says fanfics are above criticism. what we’re saying is that, unless an author specifically asks for feedback and criticism, unsolicited criticism is rude, because unlike anything else that you pay to consume and therefore can rightfully be criticized, fanfics are free and they are someone’s hobby. authors are kind enough to share what they write as their hobbies with you for free. you don’t have to like these fics. you can click away from a fic you don’t like at any point you want. but—again, unless specifically and directly asked by an author—it’s rude to tell someone, who is kind enough to allow you free access to their house, their art, that their fics should have been xyz.
so no, fanfics are not above criticism. just like how a gift someone gives you is not above criticism.
but giving fanfics unsolicited criticism is rude. just like how it’s rude to tell someone that you don’t like the gift they gives you for free, out of kindness.
Almost three years since Spain, a weary Leon returns to the agency after a three-day leave, following a sabotaged mission that nearly cost him his life. He didn't expect to find a sea of new recruits. But most of all, he didn't expect to find Ashley Graham among them.
Monday morning arrived two days later. Like the rest of the city, the FOS headquarters hummed back to life, the early hours marked by the steady, quiet trickle of employees returning to their desks.
Ashley walked down the long corridor toward her department, the clicking of her heels echoing hollowly across the polished hallway. Beneath the fabric of her coat, her heart hammered in dread.
They had tried to think nothing of it at first.
‘Maybe she was just busy over the weekend,’ they had reasoned. ‘Maybe she was out of town with her partner.’
But then Sunday came, and no matter how many times they tried her lines, both her personal and work phones remained unreachable.
It didn’t take long for them to start thinking the worst.
‘Could something have happened to her over the weekend? A road accident? A kidnapping? Or worse. Something related to bioterrorism? Was someone targeting her? Why her? Who would?’
Ashley’s chest tightened, her mind swirling with all the gruesome possibilities of where her mentor could be. She knew how wrong things could get when it came to this. She lived through it. She could still vividly remember being held in that dark container van for days… was it weeks..? As she was shipped across the Atlantic. Then came the stench of rotted wood and blood that filled her senses as she gained consciousness in that cursed church.
A cold shudder wracked her frame. Right then and there, Ashley made a decision: If Ingrid was nowhere to be found that day, she was going straight to her father to initiate a nationwide search.
She finally entered the office, the glare of the morning sun shining directly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, blinding her momentarily. Raising a hand to shield her eyes, she swept her gaze across the room.
The office bullpen was carrying on as it always did. A few of her colleagues were already settled in their cubicles, sipping steaming mugs of coffee while chatting idly over the dividers. In the far corner, a junior analyst groaned in frustration, kicking the side of the massive copier as he tried to figure out why it was acting out again. Near the glass wall, a woman was mindfully watering the office succulents, the fine mist from her spray bottle catching the morning light.
Then, as Ashley moved deeper into the bullpen toward her desk, her eyes landed on the unmistakable tight curls bunched up in its usual, neat bun.
Ingrid was sitting right there, lazily swinging in her swivel chair as she waited for the workday to begin. She looked… normal. Glowing even.
“Miss Hunnigan?” Ashley called out, her voice filled with disbelief.
“Morning, Ashley,” Ingrid offered a warm smile, greeting her the way she normally did.
Ashley let out a breathy, hysterical laugh, her pace quickening into a stride as she rushed toward their shared cubicle. “Where have you been?” she demanded, her voice a little higher than she intended. “We tried calling you, but you wouldn’t pick up! We thought something happened– I was about to go straight to the White House if–”
“Woah, slow down!” Ingrid exclaimed, holding up a staying hand to halt her trainee's breathless rambling. “Breathe for a second. Did something happen?”
Ashley stopped at the edge of the desk, taking a slow breath as she pulled her bearings back together. “They caught Guillan the other night,” she finally answered, keeping her voice low as she sat down.
Ingrid's eyes widened behind her glasses. “Already?”
Ashley nodded sharply. “They've been interrogating him since Saturday night. Leon's down there right now.”
Ingrid's brows furrowed in genuine confusion. “How come no one notified me?”
“Like I said… neither of us could get to you,” Ashley replied.
“Well, I was… occupied,” Ingrid mumbled, ducking her head slightly as a faint, light blush dusted the tips of her ears. “I… mayormaynothaveturnedoffmypersonalphone, BUT, I kept my work phone powered on the entire time.”
Ashley leaned over the desk, her brow furrowing. “Did the agency not notify you?”
“No… Not even a single text. Hang on, let me check my other phone,” Ingrid muttered, leaning down into the bottom compartment of her desk for her purse. She fished inside for her personal cell, pulled out the device, flipped it open, and held down the power button until it buzzed to life.
Almost instantly, a frantic, overlapping chorus of notification chimes and text pings flooded out the speaker, ringing non-stop until it filled the room.
A few heads in the surrounding cubicles turned toward them in mild surprise. Ingrid's face flushed as she hurriedly snatched her heavy coat off the back of her chair, wrapping it around the phone to muffle the loud barrage while her fingers hastily scrambled to tap the mute button.
Once the chimes were finally smothered into silence, she let out a breath and pulled the phone back out from the fabric. The screen was filled wall-to-wall with alerts, a third of it Ashley's frantic texts, while the rest were from Leon.
“Wow… you really weren't kidding,” Ingrid breathed out, her eyes widening as she pressed the key to scroll through the missed messages.
“Well… either way, it's good to see you're safe,” Ashley let out a long, shuddering sigh, the tight knot in her chest finally beginning to unravel. “Sorry for the outburst just now. Things have been pretty tense, and after everything… We couldn't help but assume the worst.”
Ingrid leaned back against her chair, offering her trainee a soft, apologetic look. “No, sorry for getting you guys worked up. I'll get my work phone checked out in comms. It's like a million years old now, anyway.”
~~~
The observation room was dark and tense, lit only by the pale, old lights above, and the cold glare spilling through the one-way mirror.
Leon stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on the scene playing out on the other side of the glass. For over an hour, he had watched the lead interrogator break his back trying to tear down Guillan's defenses – and for over an hour, the effort had yielded absolutely nothing.
Guillan hadn't uttered a single useful word. Instead, he just sat there under the harsh light, a sickening, smug smirk permanently etched across his face as he silently mocked every barked demand. He was completely unbothered, enjoying the show as the interrogator's composure slowly cracked.
“You’re running out of time, you know,” Guillan taunted, leaning back in his chair until the metal links of his handcuffs clinked against the table. His voice was a smooth, mocking drawl. “Every minute you spend barking at me in this little box is another minute my associates are tying up loose ends out there. Tick-tock, detective Morgan.”
Soon, the heavy door opened, letting the stark, clinical white light from the interrogation room bleed into the metal floors. Detective Morgan, a rugged, exhausted looking man in his forties, stepped through, letting the door click behind him before letting out a loud, frustrated huff. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck to relieve some of the tension in them.
“Still nothing, huh?” Leon murmured, not shifting his gaze from the glass.
“Yeah…” the detective sighed bitterly, running a tired hand over his face. “If it wasn’t illegal, I would have just beat the shit out of him for an answer. Could have ended this 30 minutes tops.”
Leon uncrossed his arms, the leather of his shoulder holster creaking softly with the movement. He glanced at the glass one last time, watching Guillan’s infuriatingly smug face, as if he was looking directly at him, before turning on his heel and heading straight for the exit door.
“Line starts behind me.”
~~~
The elevator chime echoed as the car glided smoothly to a stop, signaling Morgan's floor. The heavy steel doors slid open, letting in the brighter light of the upper hallway.
“I’ll try to look for more leads. I’ll keep you updated,” Morgan said, letting out a weary sigh as he trudged out of the elevator car.
“Thanks,” Leon replied, watching the doors glide shut after a final ding.
Left alone in the quiet cab, Leon reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his personal phone. Finally having risen past the basement's signal dampeners, the small device buzzed sharply against his palm. He flipped open the screen to check the incoming alert, which was a text message sent nearly an hour ago that had finally broken through.
---
Sender: Ashley Graham
Sent: Feb 16, 2008 | 08:02 AM
Miss Hunnigan is here. Turns out her work phone was just old, and she turned her personal phone off during the weekend.
---
Leon read the glowing monochrome text, a quiet breath of relief slipping past his lips. His thumb moved over the small keypad, tapping out a reply.
---
To: Ashley Graham
Good. Had any breakfast?
---
He held the phone open, watching the signal bars flicker as the elevator continued its smooth ascent. A few seconds later, the screen lit up with her response.
---
Sender: Ashley Graham
Sent: Feb 16, 2008 | 09:15 AM
No, I’ll just wait for lunch. You?
---
---
To: Ashley Graham
Skipping meals is bad for you.
---
---
Sender: Ashley Graham
Sent: Feb 16, 2008 | 09:16 AM
How’d the interrogation go?
---
Leon scoffed, a soft, fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he typed out another quick reply.
---
To: Ashley Graham
Don’t change the subject. And don’t worry about it.
---
The elevator chime rang out again, its heavy steel doors parting to reveal the bustling main floor of the building. Leon stepped out into the open space, his heavy military boots hitting against the polished marble tiles as his footsteps echoed rhythmically down the high-ceilinged hallway.
His thumb moved over the keypad once more as he made his way toward the glass double doors of the front entrance.
---
To: Ashley Graham
Heading out. What do you want?
---
Leon crossed the wide lobby, nodding curtly in response to a few passing colleagues who greeted him along the way. Before he reached the door, his phone buzzed in his palm again.
---
Sender: Ashley Graham
Sent: Feb 16, 2008 | 09:18 AM
Thank you, but I really am fine, ok?
---
A warm, barely-there smile softened the usual sharp edges of his jaw. Once more, his thumb moved quickly along the keys to type a quick reply.
---
To: Ashley Graham
Some dumplings and an éclair. Got it.
---
~~~
Upstairs in her cubicle, Ashley felt like a schoolgirl all over again. Her face burned a furious shade of red, and she had to duck her head behind her computer monitor just to hide the ridiculously wide smile she couldn't stop from spreading across her lips. She pressed a palm against her chest, desperately trying to calm the wild, frantic hammering of her heart against her ribs because of a simple text that flashed on her monochrome screen.
She buried her face in the crook of her arms, breathing deeply to keep herself from giggling out loud in the quiet office.
After a few seconds, she raised her head just enough to peek through her sleeves. With a hasty flick of her wrist, she flipped her phone open again, unlocking it just to read his message one more time.
---
Sender: Leon
Sent: Feb 16, 2008 | 09:19 AM
Some dumplings and an éclair. Got it.
---
She let out a muffled huff and buried her face right back into her sleeves, the heels of her shoes clicking frantically against the floorboards as she kicked her feet under the desk, trying desperately to keep herself from exploding.
It was such a simple text. It wasn’t even anything cliché like a dramatic declaration of love. Yet here she was, losing herself over it.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” a voice behind her teased, making Ashley jump slightly in her seat.
“Wh-who’s in a what mood?” she stammered, quickly flipping her phone shut, as she turned around to face Ingrid.
“You look like you were texting a college crush,” Ingrid smirked. “Maybe you were.”
Ashley’s face turned into an even deeper red. ducking her head as she tried to hide her flustered face, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Were we that obvious..?”
Ingrid laughed softly, sinking back into her own swivel chair with a relaxed, fond smile.
“Like open books,” she teased gently, propping her chin on her hand. She reached into her blazer pocket, pulling out a dark, polished device. “Got my new work phone, by the way. Pretty sleek model.”
She set it down on the desk between them with a solid clack. The brushed metallic casing caught the pale fluorescent lights of the bullpen, revealing a smooth, pristine glass display, completely devoid of any physical numeric keypad.
“One of those new touch phones!” Ashley gasped softly as her eyes widened in awe. She leaned over her desk to inspect the pristine glass display, propping her chin in her hands. “Nice. How come I didn’t get one of those when I started?” she huffed playfully.
“They said it’s a brand-new issue,” Ingrid replied with a playful, singsong lilt, shrugging a shoulder with a little smirk. “And I just happened to be the first one on the floor to get it.”
Ashley hummed, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully at the gleaming glass. “Maybe I should accidentally break my phone so they give me one of these, too.”
Ingrid laughed, shaking her head as she leaned back in her chair. “Try that and they’ll just hand you an old brick phone complete with an antenna.”
Their light banter was suddenly cut short by the sharp, rhythmic heavy click of a pair of leather boots approaching their cluster of desks. Ingrid looked up, her relaxed smile instantly vanishing into her practiced professional mask as she recognized the man.
“Miss Hunnigan,” he called out, his tone clipped as he stopped beside the partition.
“Detective Morgan,” Hunnigan greeted back.
“I might have found a way to find some leads on Guillan, but I need your team's assistance. Is Agent Kennedy around?”
Ingrid thought for a swift moment, keeping her posture cool and unbothered. “No, I haven’t seen him on this floor yet today.”
“I– I believe he stepped out for a moment,” Ashley chimed in quickly, her voice wavering slightly before she caught herself.
Morgan let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was visibly under pressure, doing his absolute best to maintain a professional demeanor while the higher-ups practically breathed down his neck for results.
“Please tell him to head down to my department the second he returns,” Morgan said, his tone tight but respectful. He then turned his focus back to Hunnigan. “Miss Hunnigan, if you don’t mind, please come with me downstairs. I need to brief you on the progress with the interrogation so far, which… honestly isn’t much. But an extra pair of eyes might help. And… if you’ll allow it, I might need Miss Graham’s assistance as well.”
Ashley sat bolt upright, surprised to have her assistance needed for something so urgent. “M-me? How can I help?”
“I believe there are a few files missing from the digital archives. Likely because they haven’t finished digitizing them due to their age,” Morgan explained, shifting his stance. “I need you to go down to the archives where they hold the physical copies of every incident since the beginning of this agency, and pull everything you can find related to old black-market bioweapon transactions. As far back as you can go.”
“The archives?” Ashley blinked, glancing between him and Ingrid. “I’m… just a trainee. Am I even allowed down there?”
“I’m granting you temporary access for the duration of this case,” Morgan replied, tapping the side of his own clip-on pass. “The security scanners downstairs should recognize your ID badge now. Just head down to the second sub-basement.”
Ashley looked up at Ingrid, her wide eyes silently asking for her mentor's permission.
Hunnigan gave her a brief, approving nod, her lips curving into a subtle smile. “Go ahead, Ashley.”
“Alright,” Ashley said, her flustered nerves instantly replaced by sharp, professional determination. She stood up from her chair, smoothing down her skirt before snatching her ID lanyard off the desk. “I’ll get those files and follow you guys as quickly as I can.”
~~~
The elevator car hummed quietly as it made its smooth ascent toward Ashley’s floor. To anyone else in the car, Leon looked like what a field agent should look like – shoulders square, posture relaxed. But his eyes kept straying to the digital screen on the right that displayed the floor numbers, silently counting down the floors left before he reached hers. His fingers tightened subtly around the handles of the paper bag, shifting the weight of the warm Chinese takeout box and protecting the delicate bakery box of éclairs from jostling.
The doors finally slid open with a soft chime, and he stepped out, taking long, eager strides. He made a beeline for her department, warm takeout in hand, only to come to a sudden halt before her station.
The shared cubicle was empty.
Leon frowned, his brows drawing together as his gaze swept over her empty desk. Turning on his heel, he addressed the woman sitting in the adjacent station.
“Excuse me,” he asked, his tone crisp and professional. “Have you seen Hunnigan or Graham?”
The woman turned in her seat, adjusting her glasses as she looked up. “Agent Kennedy,” she greeted. “Detective Morgan came by to see them a few minutes ago. I believe he and Miss Hunnigan are down in his department for a briefing. As for Miss Graham… I believe she’s down in the archives?”
Leon’s brow twitched slightly. A quiet sigh passed his lips. “That asshole…” he muttered under his breath.
Of course Morgan had dumped a trainee into that dusty sub-basement to sift through files alone. She’d be down there for hours if nobody went to help her.
Suddenly, his work phone vibrated against his hip. He flipped it open to read the text.
---
Sender: Unknown
Sent: Feb 16, 2008 | 09:38 AM
It's me, Hunnigan. Head down the investigations department as soon as you can.
---
“Thanks,” he muttered softly to the woman at the desk, flipping the phone shut as he slipped it back into his pocket.
Turning back to Ashley's desk, he set the warm brown bag and the box down right beside her keyboard, neatly tucked away from her paperwork. With one last glance at her empty chair, he turned on his heel and headed straight back toward the elevator, his stride lengthening as he prepared to head down to the basement archives himself.
The message Hunnigan sent was curt, straightforward, and held a clear hint of urgency. But whatever it was about…
It could wait.
~~~
The archive room was... well, exactly what one would expect from a government archive room. The attempt to keep it clean – at least on a surface level – was evident in the polished tile floors and orderly rows. But as Ashley ventured deeper, she couldn't help but notice the fine layer of dust that had begun to cake along the top edges of the steel cabinets, settling undisturbed between the drawers.
“B… I… O…” Ashley muttered softly to herself, her fingertips tracing the faded label cards along an endless corridor of drawers. She couldn't help but feel a sudden wave of awe at just how far back the agency's paper history ran.
She had been stuck in the same row for a while now, squatting down as she pulled out the heavy metal drawers one by one with a metallic click-clack. Her fingers carefully shuffled through the packed folders inside. Some were ancient, yellowed, and frayed around the edges, while a few newer sleeves peeked out of the pile—hastily and precariously shoved between the older ones.
“Found what you're looking for?” a voice called out.
Ashley’s face instantly brightened as she turned her head toward the end of the aisle. Leon was standing there, leaning lazily against the heavy steel file cabinet with his arms crossed and a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
“What are you doing down here?” she huffed playfully, though her fond tone did nothing to hide just how giddy she was to see him.
“Just checking in on my favorite trainee,” he replied easily, pushing himself off the cabinet. “Thought you might need some protection down here in the dark.”
Ashley giggled softly. “Are you hitting on me, Agent Kennedy?”
“Maybe.”
Shaking her head, she turned her focus back to the paper folders in front of her. “If someone else heard you say that, you’d be facing immediate suspension for going against fraternization policies.”
“Worth the risk. Plus, I could use a vacation,” he mused, his heavy boots making slow, deliberate clicks against the tile as he walked closer.
Coming up beside her, he crouched down, resting one elbow on his knee as he watched her fingers shuffle through the yellowed tabs. The sudden closeness made the quiet sub-basement feel a little bit smaller.
“I got you breakfast,” he added softly.
Ashley let out a small sigh, playing it off cool, like she hadn't been losing her mind over it minutes ago. “I told you, I'm fine. I'm used to skipping breakfast.”
Leon looked at her, his eyes warm.
“Well,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, “you’re gonna have to get used to not being used to it.”
Ashley laughed softly, her cheeks flushing a warm pink. “You're gonna make me fat.”
“That's not a bad idea,” Leon mused without a second thought, a small, genuine smirk touching his lips.
Ashley hit his arm playfully, the quiet archive aisle filling with their soft chuckles.
“First, thank you,” she said, her smile lingering before she forced her focus back to the business at hand. “Second, you should probably head up. Detective Morgan came by looking for you earlier.”
Leon nodded, resting his forearm on his knee as he watched her close one heavy steel drawer and slide open another. “Yeah, I just got Hunnigan's page a while ago. Looks like she got herself a new work phone.”
Ashley paused, her hands resting against the cool metal of the filing cabinet as she turned to him. “Then what are you doing down here?”
“Like I said,” Leon started, a subtle curve touching the corner of his lips. “Just wanted to check in on my favorite trainee.”
A sudden, betraying flush crept up her neck, her throat tightening at the effortless warmth in his voice. “Unbelievable,” she muttered softly under her breath, ducking her head to hide the small, giddy smile she couldn't suppress.
She turned back to the cabinet with renewed vigor, her heart thumping a little faster against her ribs as she pretended to take her task very, very seriously. The heavy scent of aged paper, cold steel, and old dust hung thick in the air between them, punctuated only by the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of her fingernails flipping through decades of yellowed manila folders. Leon didn't say a word, simply keeping his eyes fixed on her as she worked.
Suddenly, Ashley gasped, her eyes lighting up as her fingers caught on a raised, faded index tab labeled BIOWEAPONS.
“Finally!” She cheered softly.
She began pulling out the Manila folders one by one. With every file she pulled out, the paper became noticeably more brittle and yellowed with age, releasing the dry, heavy scent of old agency records into the cool sub-basement air.
“How long have you been down here?” He asked, reaching out to steady the files piling up on the trolley beside her before they could topple over.
“About ten? fifteen minutes?” She answered, sliding open another drawer to check for any remaining sleeves.
The answer surprised him. His eyebrows raised slightly – a regular employee or intern would have been stuck down here for an hour at least.
“Would have been a lot faster if the computer here wasn't busted,” she muttered bitterly, gesturing towards a corner.
Leon glanced over at the dead, dust-covered monitor tucked into the corner, his eyes momentarily doing a practiced, automatic sweep of the room. “Yeah… pretty much everything in this room is ancient,” he said, his gaze lingering on the clunkly mid-2000s surveillance camera that hung suspended from an off-white mounting arm. Its rectangular housing was pitted and faded, framed by a tail of dark wires looping loosely from its back. “I don't even remember a time when those cameras were functional.”
For a moment, the only sound echoing through the sub-basement was the soft thud of yellow folders being slapped onto the growing stack.
“Wow… this goes all the way to the sixties,” Ashley muttered, her fingers catching the final folder by its brittle edge.
“Is that all of it?” Leon asked as he pushed himself.
“I guess? That's how far it goes,” Ashley sighed, her eyes catching the three towering piles balanced precariously on the metal trolly. “Oof… my legs…” she groaned dramatically, making a show of trying to haul herself up from her crouched position.
“Come here,” Leon chuckled, gently tugging her up toward him.
Ashley laughed softly as she let him pull her up. But the moment she reached her full height, her knees unexpectedly buckled, still weak and numb after staying crouched on the hard tile floor for so long.
A startled gasp escaped her lips as her footing gave out. Before she could fall back against the metal trolley, Leon’s free hand shot out to catch her waist, pulling her forward as she landed straight into his chest.
The sudden impact knocked the breath right out of her. Her hands instinctively flew up to brace against the fabric of his jacket, her face buried right against his chest. The faint scent of leather, and clean cologne immediately enveloped her senses, making her heart do a violent, erratic leap in her ribcage.
Slowly, she tilted her head back to look up at him. His eyes were already locked on hers, dark and intense with an unyielding focus that made her throat go dry. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved, their hot breaths mingling in the shared space between their lips. His fingers dug deeper into her waist, pulling her flush against him.
As his head dipped lower, her breath hitched.
“We shouldn't,” she breathed, resting her hands over his heart – a useless attempt for a barrier, possessing no firmness at all. “Not here.”
“Then why aren’t you stepping back?” Leon muttered, his voice low and raspy against her lips.
His grip on her waist tightened until her hips were pinned flush against his. His other hand slid up the small of her back, his fingers tangling into the soft hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her head up just a fraction more.
His eyes flicked down to her trembling lips before locking back onto hers, blazing with an intensity that made her knees threaten to give out all over again.
“Because if you don't actually push me away right now, Ashley...” he whispered, his hot breath brushing tantalizingly over her mouth as he hovered a fraction of an inch away, “I’m not going to stop.”
Ashley pursed her lips, her heart beating erratically against her ribs as she weighed options she shouldn’t even have to weigh. The correct answer was clear. Doesn’t even need much thinking. But every second his eyes stared right back into hers, she felt that answer rapidly slipping away.
“Someone might come down…” she breathed, her voice trembling.
“No one goes here,” Leon countered.
“The cameras–”
“–have been busted for years.”
“They’re waiting for us–”
“We've got time.”
Ashley huffed, her breath hitching as a brilliant flush rushed all the way to the tips of her ears. She glanced down at her watch, the arms pointing at around 9:50.
“Ten minutes…” she muttered, her eyes narrowing as she tried… and failed… to sound authoritative while she remained pinned against his chest. “Ten minutes, tops.”
At that, a stupid smug smirk formed on his stupid smug face.
“Is that a yes?”
Ashley took a shaky breath, the proximity, the scent of his cologne, and the heat radiating off his chest sending a familiar ache straight between her thighs.
“Yes,” she breathed.
~~~
[NSFW Version found in AO3]
~~~
For a long minute, the only sounds in the sub-basement was the heavy hum of the HVAC unit overhead and the sound of their mingled, gasping breaths echoing against the steel shelves.
Ashley clung to him weakly, her fingers still tangled in his hair, her legs trembling where they were locked around his waist as the aftershocks continued to ripple through her.
Leon buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing a series of lingering reverent kisses over her flushed skin.
As their frantic breaths slowly began to calm into a steady rhythm, a soft, helpless giggle escaped Ashley’s lips.
Leon’s chest rumbled against hers, his own quiet chuckles joining in. The symphony of her laughter and his low hum bounced softly off the cold cement walls of the silent archive room.
“What’s so funny?” he murmured against her skin, his lips curving into a warm, lazy smile where they rested against her pulse point.
Ashley leaned her head back against the file cabinet, her eyes shining with fondness and disbelief as she lifted her trembling arm to look at her watch.
“We went over by seven minutes,” she chuckled softly, her voice still thick with the lingering haze of her climax.
Leon let out a low, amused huff against her neck, the warm vibration of his laugh rumbling straight down into her chest. He pulled back just far enough to look at her, that unrepentant smirk tugging at his lips as his hands gave her hips a light, possessive squeeze.
“Seven minutes?” he repeated, his voice dropping into a low, raspy drawl that made her pulse leap all over again. “Could’ve sworn time stood still for a second back there.”
Ashley let out another breathless laugh, shaking her head as her arms tightened around his neck. “You are unbelievable.”
He set her down slowly, his broad hands catching her waist the second her legs wobbled beneath her. After steadying her on the floor, he tidied their clothes. With practiced speed, he fastened his own pants, the heavy metal buckle clinking sharply through the quiet room as he locked it into place.
Then, his hands shifted to her blouse. His touch turned infinitely careful as he worked his way up, fastening the buttons all the way to the top to hide the distinct bruise that had already begun blooming on her collarbone.
Suddenly, she reached out, her fingers combing through his locks to ease the messy strands that stuck out to get his hair back in its usual neat style.
His gaze softened as he watched her work, relishing the gentleness of her fingers as they ran through his scalp. He leaned into the sensation, his hands wrapping around her waist to keep her close while she tended to him.
He kept his eyes locked on her face, watching the subtle way she pursed her lips into an adorable little line in concentration, and how her brows furrowed as she battled a stubborn lock of hair that refused to lay flat. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. In a world as dark and dangerous as his, he still couldn't quite fathom how someone as lovely as her was standing here in a cold basement, tending to him with such tenderness.
Ashley's gaze shifted from his newly combed locks down to his eyes, catching the quiet wonder in his stare before he could hide it. A soft, knowing smile curved her lips.
“There,” she murmured, patting down the very last unruly strand. “So handsome,” she teased with a low chuckle, a bright, triumphant grin lighting up her face as she pulled back an inch to admire her handiwork.
The compliment caught him off guard.
A noticeable dusting of pink crept to the tops of his cheekbones, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before he hastily looked down toward the concrete floor. He cleared his throat, his hand reaching up to lightly scratch the back of his neck in a rare moment of bashfulness.
“That’s unfair,” he mumbled, suddenly all flustered, his voice a low rumble that made her heart melt all over again.
Ashley giggled softly, getting on her tiptoes to plant a gentle kiss right on the flush of his warm cheekbone. “If they ask, you're doing the explaining, by the way.”
“Fine by me,” he murmured, his grin returning as he leaned down to catch her lips once more–
Only for his phone to suddenly ring, the loud ringtone suddenly invading the sweet moment they were sharing. Leon reached into his jacket, flipping the phone open to see the name HUNNIGAN flashing on the display.
He let out a long, defeated sigh. “That’s our cue.”
~~~
The trolley's wheels screeched loudly against the tiles as they made their way down the corridor toward the investigations unit. Leon's eyes swept across the floor, tracking the security camera mounted at the far end of the hall, watching its mechanical head swivel at steady, predictable intervals.
Ashley paused by the heavy door, her hand reaching out to turn the brass knob… only for Leon to gently catch her chin, tilting her face up for a lingering, stolen kiss.
“Leon!” she hissed under her breath, eyes wide with instant panic as her heart leaped into her throat.
“Don’t worry,” he smirked against her lips, subtly nodding toward the camera as it completed its turn, facing the opposite direction. “Blind spot.”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, a faint flush still on her cheeks as he held the door open for her with picture-perfect professionalism.
Leon only gave her an amused look, his posture shifting in a fraction of a second back into the cool, unflappable agent as she pushed the heavy trolley through the threshold.
Inside was a maze of cubicles, similar to that of every other department in the upper floors, minus the room for indoor plants. In their place hung giant maps and massive corkboards, lined with pinned photos, case notes, and webs of red string.
Already familiar with the layout after having been here a million times, he took the lead, guiding Ashley through the labyrinth of desks and steering her toward a briefing room with drawn blinds at the far end. Through the frosted door, two silhouettes stood close together, seemingly hunched over a desk.
“... hinting some sort of link between the name ‘Guillan’ and bioweapons, but I couldn't go any further,” Morgan’s voice muttered from inside, thick with frustration. “The digital files in the system stopped right here.”
Leon pushed open the glass door without knocking, causing both Morgan and Hunnigan to snap their heads toward the entrance.
“You should really stop sending trainees down to do your dusty work, old man,” Leon stated coolly, holding the door wide so Ashley could push the heavy trolley of files inside.
“Time is of the essence,” Morgan shrugged dismissively, his eyes tracking Ashley as she wheeled in the trolley with its three towering stacks of files. “Besides, it builds character.”
“The only character that needs developing is yours,” Leon countered dryly, letting the glass door swing shut behind him with a quiet click.
Morgan chuckled softly, undeterred as he stepped over to the trolley. “Are these arranged chronologically?” he asked, glancing up at Ashley.
“Yes, Detective,” she answered with a firm nod.
“Good. Let's start with the records from the eighties. Keep an eye out for the name ‘Guillan.’”
~~~
Hello lovelies <3
Depressed, mentally exhausted, 3rd-year medical student here =♡=
So sorry for the wait! I was only able to write small parts whenever I was lucky enough to get a break qvq
Anyways, I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!
to celebrate our resident best boy's birthday, i wrote a fluffy drabble i hope you guys enjoy! for ygbo readers, it fits into the story's AU as a glimpse into their future but for new readers, this works as a standalone piece as well 💙
cw: fluff, maybe teenie tiny bit of angst, fem!reader, 3rd pov, leon pov, birthday celebration, kissing, canon compliant, pre re9
word count: 1.7k
thank you @sammimi19 for proofreading and capturing those lovely screenshots 💙
Leon takes special care to turn the keys in the lock as slowly as possible when he comes home past midnight. Once the door is pushed open with a silent creak, he steps inside as quiet as a mouse, removing his shoes and hanging his jacket without a sound. He almost looks like he is sneaking around on some spying mission, but in reality, he is simply doing his very best not to wake the fellow residents of his home. The love of his life, and the two children he cares for more than anything in the world.
With his socks muffling his steps, he walks on his tiptoes, like a cat, in the direction of his bedroom, ready to pass out after a three-day mission in the middle of nowhere. When, his gaze lands on the shape of a sleeping figure on the living room sectional, visible under the moonlight filtering through the blinds. He pauses, suddenly feeling his chest tighten at the sight of her, curled onto her side with a light blanket, snoring softly like a baby.
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he’s moving closer before he can stop himself, coming to a stop once he looms over her slumbering form. That's when he notices the silk dress adorning her body. He’s not completely certain due to the dim light, but he thinks it's navy blue—his favorite color. Only then does Leon remember the special occasion for which his wife would dress up so nicely, and he feels his heart skip a beat. It seems he has completely forgotten about his own birthday—a repeated offense on his part.
He sits by her side with an exhale, like her thoughtfulness has rendered him breathless, or maybe it's the fact he can never bring himself to keep his distance for too long. Either way, it's only a matter of time before he's softly brushing calloused fingers against her cheek, unable to resist the urge to touch the one person he could give up everything for. Years and years of marriage, two children, countless memories, and she is still his one forever companion. His partner.
“Leon?” she suddenly whispers, her eyes fluttering open to meet his through the streaking moonlight.
“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you…” he murmurs apologetically, cupping her face with reverent tenderness. “I got home too late again, didn't I?”
“No,” she shakes her head immediately, already shifting to sit up. “You said you’d be late, I just got too excited with the kids.”
“The kids?” He arches an eyebrow, his hand dropping to her waist where his thumbs rubs soothing circles. Sometimes he feels a bit embarrassed over the way he’s constantly touching her, but he can’t help it. The feel of her warmth under his palms is grounding.
She smiles sheepishly with a small chuckle, leaning into his touch. “We baked you a cake… Not the nicest looking thing considering toddlers made it, but they put a lot of love into it. They’ll be stoked in the morning when you pretend it's the best thing you've ever tasted.”
An overwhelming warmth blooms in Leon’s chest at the news, prompting him to hold her closer, with both arms around her now. “You made me a cake? And you dressed up, and waited for me? Sweetheart, you really didn't have to... I would have been happy with a card.”
“I know. But you deserve more than a card. It's not every day my handsome husband turns forty-nine, you know.”
Her soft smile makes his heart stutter, and he can't stop himself anymore from pressing his lips to hers in a desperate kiss. Passionate, earnest, and filled with love, he doesn't pull away until she gently pushes on his broad shoulders, panting against his mouth.
“Can I give you your gift?”
“There's a gift too? I thought that you in this dress were the gift...”
She chuckles, kissing his cleft chin before shrugging playfully. “What can I say? I’m generous like that.”
“Okay, gorgeous. Show me your gift.”
She stands excitedly, granting him a look at the enticing way the blue fabric clings to her figure once the blanket slips off her. She then eclipses herself into the bedroom, leaving him to sit there alone in the silence of the night.
Leon takes the moment to close his eyes in grateful thought, his silver streaked hair falling down on his right temple. Twenty-six years ago, when his life changed forever on that one gruesome night, he never thought he would know true happiness ever again. Fight after fight, each one pushing him further than the last, each one eating more at his soul, until he's left as empty as a shell.
But then, there is her.
When everything is stripped away, when his very sanity is on the brink of collapse, he thinks of her loving voice, her adoring eyes, her reverent touch… And suddenly, everything is alright with the world again.
As if summoned by his aching heart that has already missed her presence, she returns with a small gift bag held behind her back, and a bouquet of flowers in the other hand. She pauses just to turn on the small lamp on the corner table, illuminating both of their faces in a warm light, before turning to him with a grin.
“These first, my good sir,” she smiles, elated, as she hands him the arrangement of yellow, white, and blue petals.
Leon feels his breath hitch for a moment as he gratefully takes the bouquet, murmuring an emotional ‘thank you, baby’ as if it's the first time she's bought him some. It's not. But it makes his heart pound out of his ribcage every single time.
“Alright, are you ready for the real deal?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, kiddo.”
She giggles at his response, attempting to keep her voice quiet despite her obvious excitement as she hands him the bag. Leon stares up at her with his ice blues for a moment, just to take in her happy expression. Then, suddenly, he’s pulling her with a strong, flexing arm around her waist, settling her on his lap with ease.
“Wanna open it together,” he mutters with a kiss to her jaw. He doesn’t need an excuse to bring her closer, he just likes to pretend he has one.
With his arms encircling her midsection, he pulls out a square box from the bag with curiosity, shaking it next to his ear with a playful smile in an attempt to guess its contents. She laughs at that, then urges him to open it quickly, which he does with a happy grin.
Finally, the reason for her excitement is revealed when the shiny quadrant of a wristwatch glimmers in the warm light. All black, stainless steel, and with a wing motif engraved on the dial. It's branded—Hamilton—and he can already guess it was quite the pricey purchase.
“Baby, what did I say about buying me expensive things?” he huffs.
“Not this again,” she rolls her eyes at him. “I’ll buy you all the expensive gifts my heart pleases, and there's nothing you can do about it. Will you at least take it out of the box first before complaining?”
“I’m not complaining, I’m just saying you don't have to spend so much on m—”
He’s interrupted by a rough peck to his plump lips, before his attacker chuckles. “Just shut up and take it out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once the watch is out of its containment, Leon can admire it more closely, turning it in his hands with focus as he takes in every detail of luxurious craftsmanship. He already knows it will be something he wears again and again, not only because it fits his taste, but also because he can't wait to parade around her gift. Like a branding on his wrist that proves to him that even he gets to be loved and celebrated.
He can feel her eyes on his stubbled face as he observes the present, and he knows there's something more to it that she isn't saying yet. That's when he turns the object in his hands and finds something on the caseback. Engraved names; his, hers, and the children’s. All encircled in a heart like the cheesiest little display of love one can ever come up with.
“Happy birthday, honey,” his perfect wife murmurs gently to the detriment of his big, soft heart.
Leon feels like he could cry. And his eyes do in fact water no matter how much he tries to stop them, which urges her to hug him tightly with kisses to his neck.
“I love you so much,” she murmurs, muffled, “I’m so grateful for you.”
“I know… I love you too, sweetheart. None of this would be worth it without you.” He pulls back, shiny eyes filled with reverence as he cups her face. “Thank you, it's perfect.”
She brings a hand up to wipe at the corners of his wet eyes, blinking her own tears away with a smile. “So it's technically not your birthday anymore, but you still get to make a wish.”
“You’ll allow it?” he chuckles softly, his voice still rough with emotion.
“I told you, I’m very generous.”
Leon looks down at the watch in his grasp, the flowers on his side, and the beautiful woman on his lap, and he feels like there's nothing more in the world he could wish for. It’s a euphoric feeling like no other, knowing that no matter what, he was able to attain what most spend their lives chasing—true contentment. He slips off the watch on his wrist to put on the new one with endearing focus, testing its weight on his skin with a hum. Unsurprisingly, it's a perfect fit. Just like her weight on his lap, and her lips against his.
Finally, he’s ready to give his answer with a heart full and a playful smile on his tired face. “I want forty-nine kisses.”
The laugh that emanates from her has the lines on the corners of his eyes crinkling as he mirrors it. Their soft chuckles mix into what sounds like a perfect harmony to his ears, and he pulls her closer to press her chest to his fully in a tight embrace. He then reaches for a hydrangea amongst the bouquet, a tiny blue flower that he tucks behind her ear with a lovesick smile, knowing fully how mushy he must seem.
“What do you say, beautiful? Will you make my wish come true?”
“Hmm… Yeah. I think I can fit it into my schedule.”
actually fully emo over this imaginary man turning 49 knowing he is soon going to be facing the bs from requiem, ugh my heart! 💙 i love this not so little guy so much, he brings me so much joy everyday and has helped me to meet so many awesome people and make lovely friends
Really sorry for being inactive lately. 3rd Year of Med School is no joke, and well, due to the mental and physical exhaustion, I've been coming up empty for the past few weeks. I WILL definitely continue Through Different Eyes, though. I just can't promise on being consistent in posting for... a long while...
Anyway, thanks so much for those who have been showing their support since the first chapter, and for those who came to check it out! Love you guys 🩷
Almost three years since Spain, a weary Leon returns to the agency after a three-day leave, following a sabotaged mission that nearly cost him his life. He didn't expect to find a sea of new recruits. But most of all, he didn't expect to find Ashley Graham among them.
Leon was every bit of an old-school romantic, pulling up to her place at seven o'clock sharp with a small, perfect bouquet of deep red roses in hand. When Ashley opened the door, her breath caught at the sight of him looking devastatingly handsome in a sharp, dark tailored suit. He reached for her hand, bowing slightly to place a gentle, courtly kiss against her knuckles, which instantly had her giggling.
“Well, don’t you look dashing,” she teased softly. Stepping into his space, she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him close as she demanded a proper greeting – a demand he had absolutely no problem obliging.
He kissed her tenderly, his large hands finding their way to the curve of her waist to pull her against him, while she pulled him even closer.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he teased back, his voice low and warm as their lips finally parted.
“Wait until you see what’s underneath,” she purred, her eyes dancing with mischief.
Leon's eyes widened just a fraction, the composure of the U.S. STRATCOM’s top agent instantly cracking as a faint, undeniable blush reached the tips of his ears.
“Underneath my coat, silly,” she laughed brightly, delighting in the rare victory of completely flustering him.
Although, she did have something hiding underneath. Unlike before, she came prepared this time. A wicked thrill shot through her as she briefly thought of the delicate lace underwear she had painstakingly chosen in the hopes of him taking it off her tonight.
“You are impossible,” he chuckled, shaking his head.
She hummed, playfully shrugging her shoulders. “You like me, anyway.”
~~~
He took her to an upscale restaurant in the heart of town – warm, classy, and just the right amount of fancy. Inside, tables were draped in heavy white silk, and small crystal chandeliers cast a soft, golden glow from overhead, while a violinist-pianist duo played a low, classical melody in the background.
Managing to secure a reservation at a place this exclusive was nothing short of a miracle. Every restaurant in town would have been close to, if not already completely fully booked for weeks. After all, it was Valentine's Day.
He guided her inside, his large hands moving to slide the heavy winter coat from her shoulders. As the fabric fell away, it revealed a sight that instantly knocked the air clean out of his lungs.
Ashley wore a satin slip the color of champagne. It was a minimal thing, suspended by wisps of delicate, thin straps that traced over her shoulders. The fabric plunged into a molten cascade, gathering in a soft fold that stopped at the small of her back, leaving her skin completely bare, and framing her silhouette in perfect elegance.
She gathered her big golden curls to the side to fix her hair, and it took everything in him to not trail kisses down her exposed neck. Instead, he pressed his lips gently against the sensitive curve at the back of her ear. The slight friction of his stubble tickled her nape, sending an electric shiver down her spine.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered against her skin, the warmth in his breath instantly turning her face a brilliant crimson.
They sat by the window, which offered a clear view of the frozen garden outside – a stark contrast to the warmth inside the building. A few tapered candles lit up their table, emitting a soft, golden glow that danced across the molten satin of her dress, illuminating the soft curves of her face and making her look even more breathtakingly beautiful in the dim light.
Not long after they settled in their seats, a young man stepped forward and politely introduced himself as their server for the evening. “Your complementary basket,” the server announced, before smoothly handing out the menus for them to look over. After a few moments of scanning, the two decided on their meals, which the server quickly noted. “Can I get you two started with a bottle of wine to celebrate the evening?”
Leon sat back slightly as he looked over at the wine list, then glanced over at Ashley. “Do you have a preference tonight? Red, white, or should we start with champagne?”
Ashley thought about it for a moment, then shrugged, completely trusting him. “I’ll let you choose. Just something that’s not too bitter.”
“Alright,” he chuckled, turning to the server. “A glass of Pinot Noir for the lady,” he started, glancing at Ashley to see if she approved. She did, smiling as she gave him a quick nod. “And some Merlot for myself.”
“Excellent choices, sir. I’ll have those right out for you,” the server replied with a respectful nod before melting back into the crowd to place their orders.
Leon muttered his thanks, and turned his gaze back at Ashley, who was already looking back at him. She smiled warmly. “It’s beautiful here.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Like?” She huffed playfully, leaning forward slightly as her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m pretty sure this is one of those places where it takes weeks, if not a whole month to get a reservation.” She added, eyeing him playfully over the flickering candlelight. “I hope you weren’t planning to take someone else here weeks ago, Agent Kennedy.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a handsome smirk that she could never really get used to. At this point, she’s certain that it would still send her heart fluttering, no matter how many times she’ll see it. Reaching across the white silk tablecloth, his large hand slid over hers, his fingers smoothly threading through her own. “Never,” he said softly. “I’ve always just wanted you.”
Her face instantly went warm, a beautiful shade of pink dusting her already flushed cheeks. She looked down at their joined hands, trying and failing to fight back the massive smile tugging at her lips. “Since when did you become such a smooth talker..?” she mumbled, her voice soft and bashful.
“What do you mean?” Leon chuckled, his eyes bright under the golden glow of the candles and the small chandelier above. “I’ve always been like this.”
She laughed, accidentally letting out a tiny snort, which made her hand instantly fly to her face, her cheeks blazing an even deeper shade of crimson. A plethora of the corny one-liners he had dropped back in Spain flashed through her mind, including the infamous, deeply embarrassing ‘nighty night, knights’ that had left Hunnigan dying of secondhand embarrassment over the comms.
Leon's smile softened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked at her. “Wow. Have I always been that bad at talking?”
“Who are you, and what did you do to my Leon?” She gasped, wiping a tear from her eye.
His smirk grew even wider, the corners of his eyes crinkling deeply. “Your Leon, huh?”
She paused, suddenly feeling all shy again. She lowered her hand from her mouth, looking down at their intertwined fingers on the white silk tablecloth, before letting her blue eyes flick back up to meet his gaze. “Unless you don't want to be?”
“Of course I do,” he chuckled softly. He squeezed her hand firmly, looking at her intently. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
Before she could start physically melting, the smooth clink of porcelain broke the heavy, romantic spell. Right on time, their server reappeared with a polite smile, expertly placing two plates of hors d'oeuvres in front of them.
Dinner went on smoothly, the two of them talking about everything and nothing at all, as the soft melodies of the violin and the piano wove seamlessly around their laughter. The restaurant seemed to shrink until it was just the two of them, encapsulated in a warm bubble of golden candlelight and the faint, sweet aroma of jasmine and roasting garlic. Under the gentle glow of the crystal chandelier, Ashley’s eyes seemed to sparkle brighter with every passing minute, her skin radiating a soft, irresistible glow that kept Leon’s gaze locked onto her. He found himself barely tasting his own food, far too captivated by the melodic sound of her voice.
They traded bites across the table, with Ashley enthusiastically offering him a slice of her sweet, fruit-glazed duck, while Leon gave her a bite of his filet mignon. But then, she looked at him through her lashes as she slowly swallowed the piece of meat straight from his fork. The look immediately had his thoughts darkening. Desire flared in his eyes, his pulse quickening as he felt his pants tighten underneath the silk-draped table.
She recognized that look. Knowing they were so close to finishing dinner with only dessert left in the way, Ashley’s own thoughts darkened as well. Maybe it was the wine, the romantic ambiance, or that devastating smirk he was giving her from across the table, but she felt a sudden rush of boldness in that moment. Slowly, under the cover of the silk tablecloth, she slipped her leg forward, softly placing the pad of her foot right over his crotch, which, to her delight, was already rock-solid beneath his tailored slacks.
“Ashley…” he groaned, clenching his jaw as he desperately fought hard to keep himself from flipping the table to the side so he could give her exactly what she was asking for.
“What?” she chirped, tilting her head to the side and acting all innocent, though the wicked, triumphant spark in her blue eyes completely gave her away.
He leaned forward, his gaze darkening in a way that made her breath catch in her throat. “You think you’re being clever, princess?” he murmured, his voice low, promising retribution the second one of their apartment doors closes.
But just as Leon’s fingers tightened around hers, his work phone lit up in his pocket, buzzing obnoxiously as if demanding his full attention.
He breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a second in annoyance, before letting a defeated sigh slip past his lips. He reluctantly let go of her hand, reaching into his pocket to pull out the device and answer it.
“Kennedy,” he said, his tone sharp and cold.
“Sorry for the interruption, sir. We need you back at headquarters ASAP,” the voice of a male operator said through the line.
“And this absolutely cannot wait until tomorrow?” Leon pressed, barely masking the irritation in his voice.
Leon leaned back against the leather booth, running a hand over his face as he sighed once more. “I’ll be there,” he muttered, before ending the call and sliding the phone back into his jacket.
Across the table, Ashley looked at him curiously, her eyebrows furrowed as she sensed the urgency of the call. “What is it?”
He looked at her for a moment with an apologetic look on his face. “They got Guillan.”
“Oh,” she whispered, the seriousness of the situation sinking in. She turned on her seat to grab her purse, swinging the straps over her shoulder to get herself ready to leave. “I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t have to, Ash…” he said gently, reaching out to catch her wrist. “I’ll take you home before I go–”
“Miss Hunnigan might need me,” she countered softly. Then she leaned in slightly, her eyes looking down as she murmured, “and… I wanna stay with you a little bit longer, if that’s okay…”
Leon blinked at her shy confession, his chest tightening as a wave of warmth completely reversed the frustration he felt. He half expected her to be mad, or at least be distant after taking that call. Yet here she was, in her stunning champagne dress, completely unfazed, choosing to go with him just so they wouldn't have to part ways yet.
His grip on her wrist softened, his hand sliding down to her fingers so he could gently caress her knuckles with his thumb.
“Okay,” he yielded.
~~~
“Has Hunnigan called yet?” Leon asked her as they made their way down the hallway.
She shook her head. “No, not yet.” Then she looked up at him, offering a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll wait at the cubicle in case she comes over.”
He wished he could kiss her right now, even just a peck. But the cameras in the hallway they were in covered every inch, including the entrance to her department, forcing him to keep his desire under wraps. Instead, he simply led her to her cubicle, maintaining a professional distance.
“I’ll be back,” he said after making sure she was settled on her desk, before stepping out into the hallway.
~~~
The heavy steel door of the interrogation room clicked shut behind Leon, sealing out the hum of the main office. Inside, the air was cold, smelling faintly of old coffee from the countless failed interrogations only a few hours before. Norris Guillan sat handcuffed to the metal table under the harsh, buzzing fluorescent light. Despite being caught, an arrogant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw who walked in.
“Agent Kennedy,” Norris drawled, leaning back as far as the chains allowed. “What an honor. I didn’t expect them to have one of the country’s top agents to interrogate me personally.”
Leon didn’t answer. Maintaining a terrifyingly calm demeanor, he unbuttoned his suit jacket, pulled out the chair opposite Norris, and sat down. He crossed his arms, his blue eyes boring into the man with a cold, detached gaze.
“Cut the shit,” he said coldly. “Some of us have places to be.”
Norris chuckled. “My apologies. It seems I’ve ruined your dinner plans. Or perhaps I interrupted you right before your dessert, eh?” He taunted, a malicious glint dancing in his eyes as he clearly relished the opportunity to strike a nerve. “Who’s the lucky girl, hm? A colleague of yours? Or perhaps some hotshot model? After all, she would have to match your–”
“Tell me what you know about the modified plaga,” Leon cut him off, the coldness in his voice sucking out any warmth left inside the room. “What exactly were you going to use it for?”
Norris smiled smugly, crossing his arms as Leon threatened to burn a hole right through him. “It’s going to take more than that to make me bark, agent.”
Leon leaned forward, placing his forearms on the cold metal surface. “You’re a middleman, Norris,” he prodded, momentarily wiping off the smirk off Norris’s face. “Whoever you’re protecting won’t hesitate to eliminate you once you become a liability. Right now, you're a loose end. They're not coming to get you out. They’re probably planning to silence you for good.”
He let his words hang in the air, his blue eyes locking onto the man's trembling pupils. “Talk. Then, maybe we can discuss protection.”
Norris stared back for a moment, as if weighing his options. Then his smirk returned, if not even wider. “No.”
~~~
Ashley checked her watch. It had been an hour since Leon disappeared into the hallway towards the interrogation rooms upstairs. Hunnigan was nowhere in sight either, not even picking up her calls, leaving her completely alone in the office, with only the desk lamp lighting up the cubicle.
As she sat in the quiet, a realization came to her. This is what he was talking about, and tonight was the first of many. The first of many interrupted dates, stolen moments, and lingering goodbyes so long as she was with him. It was the price of loving a man owned by the country before he could ever fully belong to her.
She looked down at the silk of her champagne dress, a painful contrast against the laminate of her office desk. But then, she came to another realization.
She wasn’t angry.
Instead of bitter grief for the future moments that will inevitably be stolen from them, she found herself accepting everything. The danger, the late-night pages. She would take all of it, because a single, stolen hour with him was worth a lifetime with anyone else.
She smiled softly as she stared at the window, watching the snowflakes fall. She let out a soft yawn, leaning her chin against her hand as her heavy eyelids began to betray her. The two glasses of wine from dinner, combined with the low, monotonous hum of the building’s heating system, finally caught up to her as exhaustion pulled at her limbs. Slowly, without even realizing it, she folded her arms over the cool surface of her desk, resting her head against them.
Within minutes, she drifted off, completely unaware of the heavy footsteps echoing down the quiet corridor as a frustrated agent made his way back to her.
Leon stopped in his tracks, his chest tightening as he took in the sight in front of him. She looked so out of place. There, under the dim light of her small desk lamp, draped in her beautiful dress, she sprawled across her desk, fast asleep, just waiting for him.
He quietly closed the distance between them, hovering over her for a moment as he memorised the contours of her sleeping face. Ever so gently, he caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, tracing her face all the way to her jaw, then slowly moved her hair to the side, exposing her bare neck.
For a moment, he forgot they were in the office. He leaned down, placing a tender kiss on that one sensitive spot on her neck that he knew she loved.
A sigh escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered open. “You’re back,” she whispered, her voice still thick with sleep, a small smile gracing her lips.
“I’m sorry I took so long,” he whispered back.
“It’s fine,” she assured him as she pushed herself up to stretch her arms in front of her, arching her lower back to relax her spine.
He couldn’t help himself anymore. Leaning down, he returned to the sensitive spot on her neck, his lips lingering there as he breathed her in, pressing a deep, possessive kiss into her skin.
Ashley leaned back against his chest as her hand reached up behind her head to comb her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as she surrendered to his touch. Unable to bear the distance any longer, she turned in her seat to face him fully, catching his lips with hers.
Leon groaned against her mouth, his hands clamping onto her waist as he effortlessly hoisted her up onto the edge of the desk, stepping between her legs to firmly pin her down. He devoured her, his mouth heavy and demanding as he tried to make up for every single second of their ruined night.
Ashley sighed, her hands gripping his shoulders as he parted from her lips to trail a path of searing kisses down her throat, over her collarbone, and across the bare curve of her shoulder, before going back to that one spot. The friction of his rough stubble against her sensitive skin made her shudder, her fingers digging desperately into his suit jacket.
“Leon,” she whimpered, her voice small and trembling as she gently pushed against his shoulders, trying to catch her breath.
He stopped, his breathing heavy and ragged as he looked up at her, his blue eyes dark with an unbridled hunger. His hands were still securely anchored to her waist, his thumb resting against the smooth silk of her dress.
“Not here…” she gasped, her chest heaving as her lidded eyes darted toward the dark hallway beyond her cubicle partition. “Someone... someone might see...”
Leon snapped back as he finally remembered where they were. Forcing himself to regain his composure, he breathed deeply, trying to tame the frantic beat of his heart.
“Right,” he rasped, his voice rough and uneven.
He pulled himself away from the desk, giving them both a moment to straighten their disheveled clothes. Reaching for her coat, he carefully draped the fabric over her shoulders. With a firm, protective hand resting on the small of her back, he guided her quickly down the quiet hallway, eager to get her out of the building.
On the way down, they passed the security hub. The heavy door was left slightly ajar, and a loud snore escaped the gap, echoing into the corridor. Leon glanced through the glass panel to see the night guard completely passed out in his swivel chair, a half-eaten sandwich sitting on the desk beside the live camera feeds.
~~~ [NSFW Version Available in AO3] ~~~
“Aren't you cold?” she asked softly, resting her chin on his collarbone as she looked up at him.
“No, this is nice,” he replied, his voice gentle as his large hand came up to rest on her lower back.
Despite his answer, she sat up to open the edges of the heavy quilt, spreading the fabric wide before draping it securely over his bare shoulders, wrapping them both in it, before laying herself right back down on his chest.
Leon chuckled softly. “This is nice too,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her tightly against his body.
They lay there quietly for a few moments, wrapped up in their shared warmth, their synchronized breaths the only sound heard in the now quiet apartment.
“How did it go?” Ashley asked, breaking the silence as she traced a slow pattern on his chest.
Leon looked down at her. “How did what go?”
“The interrogation.”
Leon sighed heavily, suddenly reminded of the frustration of the failed interrogation from earlier. “Still nothing,” he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of exhaustion.
Sensing this, Ashley shifted slightly, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder in an attempt to soothe his tense frame. “It'll come through,” she reassured him. “One of them will break eventually.”
“I hope so,” he muttered, relaxing slightly as he turned his head to press a firm kiss on her temple, which she responded to with a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to get this over with. Not only for the public or his safety, but most especially for hers. If anyone ever found out who ‘Baby Eagle’ was, it would only be a matter of time before someone ripped her away from him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, forcibly pushing the dark thought away, as he tried to think of something else. “Did Hunnigan really not come?” He asked, changing the topic.
Ashley shook her head. “She didn't answer my calls either.”
Leon furrowed his brows, a prickle of unease hitting his neck. “That's weird.”
“It got me worried too,” she admitted softly.
He shifted himself on his pillow, forcing the tension away so he wouldn't alarm her. “It's Valentine's day,” he offered. “She's probably just busy.”
“Yeah, you're probably right,” Ashley sighed, snuggling closer into his warmth.
For a moment, they let the quiet hum of the apartment take over, lying there tangled together as they enjoyed the warmth they both shared under the heavy quilt. But as the silence stretched, Leon's thoughts drifted back to their interrupted night. A realization settled in his chest - one he knew Ashley likely shared. This was night was just the first of many, yet, despite what happened tonight, here she was. By some miracle, she still chose to stay.
He tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer as a weary sigh escaped him. “Sorry about tonight," he murmured into her hair. "I'll make it up to you. I promise.”
Ashley giggled, a lovely sound that quelled the guilt he had been carrying since that cursed phone call. She tilted her head back slighty, looking up to him with a bright smile on her face, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You already did, silly.”
~~~
Here's back to back chapters for my inactivity aaaa sorry but I'll rlly do my best to try and keep uploading qvq
Almost three years since Spain, a weary Leon returns to the agency after a three-day leave, following a sabotaged mission that nearly cost him his life. He didn't expect to find a sea of new recruits. But most of all, he didn't expect to find Ashley Graham among them.
The sun still hadn't risen when Leon woke up. His eyes fluttered open to find an unfamiliar ceiling in an unfamiliar room.
Something stirred beside him, making him look to his right.
There was Ashley, her head nestled securely on his shoulder, her breathing deep and even, while her hand rested flat across his bare chest. Leon's eyes softened instantly, a small, tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he recalled everything that happened the night before.
He stared at her for a moment, taking in the scent of her hair, the long sweep of her lashes against her cheeks, and her smooth, supple skin pressed flat against his own. It felt like a dream. Looking down at her in the dark, he could hardly believe that someone as lovely as her had willingly accepted someone like him.
Then, his eyes slowly drifted lower, landing on the layers of scars across his chest. The contrast between them was striking – her soft, unmarked skin resting on top of his ruined flesh. His smile wavered as the harsh reality of his life suddenly settled.
"What have I done..?" he muttered, his voice barely audible. A sudden wave of panic came crashing down on him, as he felt a deep sense of unworthiness. He was terrified. Terrified that by letting this happen, he had just trapped her in his dark world.
Ever so slowly, he gently took Ashley's arm off his chest and carefully shifted her head off his shoulder, easing her down onto the soft pillow, before pulling the sheets over her shoulders. He slid out from beneath the warm blankets, the cold morning air hitting his bare skin.
He sat at the very edge of the mattress, his elbows resting heavily on his knees as his head dropped into his hands. His chest heaved, contemplating on leaving. His mind raced back to that dark place that made him believe that the best thing he could do right now is leave before he ruined her life completely. He quietly collected his trousers from the floor, pulling them back on slowly, so as not to wake Ashley from her deep slumber.
Once dressed, he paused and looked behind him, taking in the sight of her one last time, before forcing his feet to move and pushing himself away from the mattress.
But before he could take a single step toward the door, Ashley's hand flew out from beneath the warm blankets, her fingers quickly catching his wrist.
“You're leaving?” she asked, her voice a soft, fragile murmur in the quiet room.
He didn't look back at her. His jaw locked incredibly tight as he stared hard at the bedroom floor, his fist clenching at his side. “I am.”
"Do you have to..?"
"I do."
Ashley fell silent for a moment, her heart breaking more and more with each of his hollow, robotic answers. She could feel the distance widening between them again.
And it absolutely terrified her.
Finally, her grip tightened around his wrist, her voice dropping into a small, trembling whisper. “Do you want to..?”
Leon didn't answer immediately, hesitating on what to say. He knew what his answer should be — the safe, cold lie that would protect her. But then he made the fatal mistake of glancing back over his shoulder, his chest tightening the moment his eyes met hers.
She was sitting up against the pillows, the blue light of dawn filtering through the window and catching the faint shimmer of the unshed tears in her eyes.
"I don't..." he answered, the truth slipping out before he could stop himself.
Ashley's eyes softened instantly, the fear instantly melting away, replaced by a wave of relief.
"Then don't," she whispered, her voice gentle yet commanding.
Ever so gently, she pulled him back toward the bed, forcing him to sit back down onto the mattress. With the sheets held tightly against her chest, she moved closer until the distance between them vanished, laying her chin softly on his bare shoulder.
"You don't have to keep doing things you don't want to do, you know..." she sighed, her breath warm against his skin.
Leon let out a shaky breath. "Ashley, you have to understand–"
“I do,” she interrupted gently. “Look at me,” she whispered, lifting her chin up so she could see his face. When he refused to turn around, stubbornly keeping his eyes glued to the dark floor, she reached out with her free hand to tenderly cup his jaw. Her thumb brushed against the rough stubble of his cheek, her fingers gently but firmly turning his head back toward her. “Please?”
His eyes flicked up, meeting hers.
She sighed, her heart clenching when she saw the worry and fear in his face. It wasn't the hardened, stoic gaze of the legendary agent the USSTRATCOM knew. It was the terrified look of a man who genuinely believed he was a plague, desperately trying to protect her from himself.
"I may not have seen as many ungodly things as you have..." she started, her voice gentle, yet firm. "But I survived a nightmare with you. I've seen and heard the things you have to fight. I've experienced enough to know just how terrifying the things you face are."
He couldn't speak, her words completely stripping away his ability to argue. A heavy lump formed in his throat, his chest heaving silently as the armor he had spent almost ten years building cracked.
“I understand,” she whispered, her thumb tenderly wiping at the rigid line of his jaw. “And I want you regardless.”
The air left Leon's lungs when he heard those words, unsure if he had heard them correctly, and if he did, he wondered if he deserved them.
"I can't promise you a perfect life," he admitted, a tinge of frustration in his voice. He desperately wished that he could. A warm home. A 9-to-5 job. Long vacations. He wanted nothing more than to give her a life of normalcy.
Slowly, his eyes drifted down to his own hands, staring at the heavy, calloused skin. He could see the invisible, permanent stain of blood caked into the crevices of his palms after almost a decade of relentlessly fighting whatever the government demanded him to – be it monster or man. For nine years, his hands were nothing more than lethal weapons owned by the state, scarred and hardened by a never-ending cycle of violence.
Her eyes followed his heavy gaze, and she instantly knew where his mind had gone down again. Ashley reached out, her warm fingers sliding seamlessly between his, intertwining them until their palms were pressed flush together.
“I want you, Leon. Lonely nights and all,” she murmured, tightening her grip to try and pull him back from his thoughts. “All that matters is that you come back to me. No matter how long it takes.”
Leon’s eyes glued to their joined hands. For a moment he tried to fight it, searching for a single logical reason to pull away and protect her from the darkness of his world.
But as her grip tightened, he finally came to an understanding.
She wasn't asking him to be a normal man. She wasn't asking for a normal life. God knows how far she’s past that now. She knew what he was – a weapon, a soldier, a man constantly walking into hell – and she was choosing to stand in the smoke with him. By running away to "save" her, he wasn't protecting her. He was being a coward, denying them both the happiness they desperately needed in a world as dark as theirs.
Finally, the last of his defenses crumbled.
Slowly, he returned her grip. He brought their intertwined hands up to his lips, his eyelids fluttering close as he pressed a deep, reverent kiss against the back of her hand, letting out a long, ragged breath against her skin – a sign of his surrender.
For the first time in Leon's life, he allowed himself to believe the impossible: He was allowed to have this.
He was allowed to be happy.
“You have no idea what you're doing to me…” he mumbled, leaning forward to bury his face deep into the crook of her neck.
Ashley let out a soft, breathy chuckle against his hair, her fingers instantly tangling into his locks. “What now?”
Leon chuckled, leaving a kiss on her neck as he slowly lifted his head to look at her, smiling softly. “I’m taking you to dinner.”
She couldn't help but giggle in surprise, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Are you asking me out on a date?"
His heart swelled at the sight. He hasn't seen her smile like that since that night in her kitchen. How long has it been? Weeks? A month? Either way, he felt like a fool for ever thinking she was actually happy. He had always noticed the subtle strain behind her eyes every single time she forced a smile out. Yet, despite everything he did, and, more importantly, everything he didn't do, she was right here with him, smiling at him.
Slowly, his hand slid up the side of her face, his palm cradling the warm apple of her cheek while his thumb glided gently across her skin. She leaned into his touch, her eyes locking onto his through her lashes as she waited for his answer.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Yes, I am.”
~~~
“Good morning, Miss Hunnigan,” Ashley greeted as Ingrid entered their shared cubicle. “I've printed the final copy about the genetically modified Plaga,” Ashley said, gently placing the folders on Hunnigan's desk.
“Thank you, Ashley,” Ingrid replied, sitting down on her swivel chair.
“I've printed six copies of them. For you, Leon, the committee, and an extra copy just in case,” Ashley added.
“Nice. An–”
“I've also marked the areas that needed emphasis in each copy. The stuff you mentioned over the phone while making the report? They're all marked with color-coded tape.”
Ingrid blinked, momentarily stunned. “You remembered all that–?”
“And I also got us some coffee,” Ashley beamed, gesturing to the three ceramic cups that were covered with paper towels and stirring sticks on her desk. “I brought some beans from my apartment just for us. You've been working hard on the report for the past two days, even though there was supposed to be an emergency administrative leave after that blizzard.”
Ingrid stared at Ashley for a moment, her eyes narrowing just a fraction. “Ashley.”
“Hm?”
Ingrid smirked. “You're glowing.”
Ashley paused, a little surprised by the sudden compliment.
It was true.
Compared to how she was for the past couple of weeks, Ashley's eyes were brighter than they usually were, sparks practically flying off them. Her skin shone like never before, radiating a vibrant glow that stood out starkly against the office's dull, clinical fluorescent lighting.
Ashley snorted. “Am I? Must be because I got a lot of rest,” she chuckled, a rosy flush dusting her cheeks as she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Have you had any breakfast? I can make us some toast.”
“I'd appreciate that,” Ingrid nodded, her smirk widening with amusement as she watched her assistant practically bounce on her heels.
“Alright. I'll be back in a bi–”
Ashley was abruptly cut off as she bumped right into a solid, broad chest. She gasped slightly, her eyes traveling up the crisp fabric of a tuxedo until she met a pair of familiar, steel-blue eyes.
“Hi,” she greeted, her voice coming out soft and a little breathy.
“Hey,” Leon answered, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looked down at her. “Is my copy ready?”
“Yeah. It's right on the desk,” she replied, her cheeks warming as she gestured back toward the immaculate stack of papers. “Would you like some toast as well? I'm heading to the breakroom right now to make some.”
His eyes crinkled slightly. “Yeah, some toast would be good right now,” he replied. He subtly shifted his weight, locking his eyes onto hers a little too long. “Do you want me to go with you?”
Right behind them, Ingrid’s brows shot straight up toward her hairline at the sudden offer. ‘Oh, I see,’ she thought, as her smirk widened, her eyes switching between the two as they continued to converse.
“No, it's fine! I'll be back in a bit,” Ashley said quickly, her heart doing a flip as she realized just how obvious they were being. “There's some coffee on the table. Go ahead and pick one.”
Then, she turned on her heel and hurried down the hallway toward the breakroom.
Leon's eyes lingered on the entrance, his gaze tracking her until she was out of sight. Finally pulling himself back to reality, he turned to look for his cup, only to catch Hunnigan staring right at him. Her eyes were sharply narrowed, her lips sporting a massive, amused smirk.
Leon quietly shook his head, turning his back against her in an attempt to hide the twitching at the corners of his lips as he picked up his cup. But before he could even bring the rim to his lips, he looked down and froze.
Then a wide grin broke across his face.
There, carefully etched into the warm, velvety froth of his coffee, was a beautifully poured milk foam leaf.
~~~
The conference room was unforgivingly cold. Along one side, full-length windows looked out over a city still blanketed in February snow, where the frozen Potomac River harshly reflected the glare of the winter sun. Overhead, the humming fluorescent lights cast a sterile white glow, intensifying the room's frigid atmosphere. At the front, the United States flag stood tall, anchored in a heavy brass base, with the agency’s own colors flanking it just a step behind. In the center sat a long mahogany table, where Hunnigan, Ashley, and Leon sat on one side, waiting for the rest of their company to arrive.
Soon, the doors opened revealing two stoic, dark-suited men from the agency's higher offices, and Dr. Rebecca Chambers, who then found their seats on the opposite side of the table.
Ashley instantly stood up and went around, distributing the copies to each person and leaving the extra copy for herself. As soon as she was done, she hastily sat back down on the seat behind Hunnigan.
Hunnigan cleared her throat, signaling the start of the meeting. “I would like to begin,” Hunnigan started, standing up from her seat and walking up front. “For three years, we've known the Plaga as a parasite that gives a wielder the ability to control the host. It usually takes a full day or so for the parasite to fully take control, giving ample time for treatment, now that we have the technology for it,” she paused, checking if everyone agrees with her. “But recently, new variations of the parasite have been found. Each one, much deadlier than the last.”
The LED screen behind Hunnigan flickered to life, displaying the simulations that Dr. Chambers had compiled to showcase the comparison between each variant in terms of the speed of the infection.
“Each of these can spread throughout the host and completely infiltrate the central nervous system within minutes. Now–” Before Hunnigan could even finish her sentence, the heavy wooden door swung open, revealing a tall, commanding man clad in a pristine, well-tailored suit.
Ashley's eyes widened in instant recognition, a smile almost breaking through her face. The man's eyes flicked across the room, lighting up briefly as well the exact moment he recognized her sitting at the table.
“The Secretary of Health?” one of the committee men on the opposite side of the table murmured, his brows shooting up in surprise.
“Secretary Braun,” Hunnigan greeted smoothly, maintaining her professional posture as she nodded politely.
The Secretary nodded back in acknowledgment, his polished leather shoes clicking quietly against the floor as he moved toward the empty seat at the back of the table, giving him a full view of the room.
Ashley stood up immediately, moving quietly as she navigated around the long mahogany table and gently placed the extra copy of the brief right in front of him.
The Secretary offered her a warm, appreciative smile as he settled into his seat. “Thank you,” he murmured softly before looking up at the rest of the room. “Sorry I'm late. I've already know about the basics. Please continue,” he said, his hand gesturing politely for Hunnigan to resume the briefing.
Ashley offered a brief, respectful nod before heading back toward her seat.
Hunnigan cleared her throat, seamlessly regaining control of the room as she turned back toward the main monitor. “As I was saying, these are the forensic images of the victims recovered from the primary site, extracted from the data files of our most recent mission.”
Leon caught the slight shift in Ashley's posture out of the corner of his eye. Glancing subtly at her, he noticed she had already held her breath, desperately trying to maintain a stoic, professional face for the committee. Beneath the mahogany table, however, her fists were clenched tightly against her thighs.
Keeping his face impassive and his eyes still locked on the horrific images on the screen, Leon discreetly dropped his arm. He reached out between their chairs, his large, warm hand enveloping her trembling fingers, gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles in a soothing, rhythmic motion. Soon, he felt the sharp tension drain from her frame as she finally let out a soft, shaky breath and relaxed against her seat. Yet, even as she settled, his hand did not leave hers.
“The marks on their skin match the patterns found in previous Plaga victims, except they're deeper and darker. Furthermore, recovered documents confirm the synthesis of the viral strain recovered from Raccoon City nine years ago. It appears whoever is behind this is utilizing the Plaga parasite as a vector to rapidly disseminate the virus within the host's system.”
Hunnigan tapped her terminal, bringing up the data. “By itself, the parasite is not highly infectious, requiring direct injection or ingestion to enter a host. However, the virus remains highly contagious via horizontal transmission, specifically, bites. Whoever is behind this is trying to achieve a synergistic mechanism, leveraging the Plaga's neural manipulation capabilities while relying on the virus's aggressive infectivity. It gives us every reason to believe they are weaponizing this for targeted, large-scale attack.”
The room fell deathly quiet, as a heavy, familiar exhaustion settled over everyone present: the crushing weight of yet another looming mass bioterrorist attack.
“There's… more…” Rebecca started, her voice heavy as all heads turned to her. “Four months ago, Agent Kennedy was specifically targeted and held prisoner due to his history with the parasite–”
“Why Agent Kennedy specifically?” one of the committee members interrupted. “Weren't there plenty of successfully infected and controlled cultists? We are still getting reports about their cult's activity almost every month.”
All heads turned to Leon. "A mercenary blew up the whole island," he said, not moving. "And I killed every bastard that got in my way. As far as I know, all the mind-controlled Ganados in that island perished, and the uninfected surviving members went into hiding."
“That's exactly what I've been trying to figure out,” Rebecca continued, her tone sharp as she took back the floor. “But then I realized that Agent Kennedy is the only known human survivor who was able to suppress the infection long enough to receive treatment, which means the antibodies against them might already be in him. The controlled cultists were already completely infected hosts. Whoever is plotting this isn't just trying to unleash a bioweapon – they are trying to make a vaccine. Most probably for profit once the outbreak hits.”
“But Agent Kennedy was only able to fight the Plaga because of a specialized surgical procedure that targeted it,” the second committee member countered, leaning forward with a skeptical frown. “It wasn't a natural recovery. It doesn't mean his own immune system actually fought it off.”
“Yes, but the fact that his body was exposed to the parasite, his immune system still had ample time to map its antigens, which means he might have already developed highly specific, fully matured antibodies against the Plaga.” Rebecca answered smoothly.
“Not only that,” Secretary Braun added, his authoritative voice instantly commanding the attention of the entire room as he leaned forward. “Agent Kennedy is unique because he is also a Raccoon City survivor, which means he himself have been exposed to the T-virus.”
Rebecca nodded, her expression grimly validating the Secretary's point. “Precisely. Given Agent Kennedy's unique genetic history, he is, theoretically, the perfect test subject, which is exactly why they targeted and captured him four months ago… and probably still targeting him now.”
“And why, may I ask, is Agent Kennedy still being routinely deployed on field missions?” Secretary Braun asked, his sharp eyes shifting directly to where Hunnigan and Leon sat. “Given the circumstances, wouldn't his constant exposure to the field be a direct threat to national security?"
The room fell into a long, agonizingly quiet pause. The weight of the question pressed down on the table, the chill of the room suddenly feeling much sharper.
After a moment, Hunnigan finally spoke, her expression steady despite the grim admission.
“After the incident four months ago, our internal investigation revealed multiple spies within our own ranks, including active field agents. It led to a significant gap in our workforce. While new batches of field operatives are currently fast-tracked in training, our operational capability is severely compromised. For now, Agent Kennedy's presence in the field is a necessity we cannot afford to lose.”
“If I may, sir,” Leon started, his tone low and level. He gently drew his hand back from Ashley's to rest his forearms on the mahogany table, leaning forward slightly to look at the man. “Why are you here?”
Secretary Braun returned his gaze, unblinking.
“I'd expect the National Security Advisor to be the one sitting on that chair, but not you, sir.”
“The Advisor, who is a good friend of mine, is unavailable due to international disputes. Plus, I was invited here by Dr. Chambers because I am here for the same thing, whoever is behind this is trying to make,” Braun replied, his authoritative voice slicing cleanly through the room. “A vaccine.”
Ashley paled instantly, the color draining completely from her cheeks as her eyes widened. She stared at Secretary Braun in a mix of disbelief and dread, her chest tightening as the words sank in.
“At least, the potential production of one,” Braun clarified smoothly, steepling his fingers. “I understand that there are still no solid leads regarding the people behind all this. So, just in case a weaponized outbreak occurs, I want to ensure Agent Kennedy is secure, in the event that my department ever needs to immediately create vaccines to countermeasure the attack. Only a blood sample would be needed.”
Leon noticed Ashley's shoulders subtly relax as she slowly breathed out a silent, ragged breath of relief. At Braun's answer, Leon quietly leaned back into his leather seat, mulling it over for a few moments. Finally, he gave a single, slow nod of understanding.
“So,” the first committee member asked, breaking the heavy silence. “What are our plans moving forward?”
Hunnigan sighed, a flicker of frustration breaking through her usually disciplined demeanor. “For now, we are trying to continue extracting information from the captured individuals. Unfortunately, none of them have given us any significant information. It seems whoever they're working for is someone with significant power.”
“And if none of them talk?” the committee member pressed, his tone sharp.
“We have identified three key individuals who were repeatedly referenced in the extracted server files. One of them is already secured in our maximum-security cells, though as I stated, he is completely refusing to cooperate. The second is a man named Norris Guillan, but our tracking teams still haven't identified his whereabouts. The last one remains unidentified, lacking any information, which strongly implies that whoever this is, they are likely the one behind everything. Other than those three leads, we have absolutely nothing.”
The room fell quiet once more, the shared frustration building up as the silence stretched.
“We will raise this directly to the higher executive offices,” the second committee member said as he closed his folder with a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples to soothe a budding headache. “We need to see if we can get authorization to utilize the National Guard, or perhaps coordinate with the BSAA to assist with international tracking.”
“Leave the national guard to me,” Secretary Braun interrupted. He tapped his fingers against the folder Ashley had provided, drawing all eyes to the end of the table.
“My department will handle the fast-track paperwork for emergency vaccine funding… and I will personally brief the President on our internal security status by morning. For now, this briefing is adjourned. Miss Hunnigan, Agent Kennedy, keep digging for Guillan.”
With a decisive nod, the Secretary stood up, signaling the official end of the session as the rest of the room immediately rose out of respect.
~~~
The conference room doors clicked shut behind them, cutting off the suffocating atmosphere that had enveloped the briefing room. Down the corridor, the two committee members from earlier had already left, the frustration in their voices bouncing across the polished hallway walls as they discussed the meeting's dead-end outcome.
At the end of the hallway, Secretary Braun stood in the shadows, discussing a few more things with Leon and Hunnigan. Their hushed, urgent voices blended together into a low murmur.
Ashley remained standing by the door, her fingers laced together as her eyes stayed fixed on the three of them, particularly the tense line of Leon's shoulders.
“You don't have to worry too much, you know?” a warm, friendly voice reassured behind her.
Ashley turned to find Dr. Chambers, who was smiling at her.
“Ashley Graham, right? The President's daughter?” Rebecca asked politely, extending a hand.
“Dr. Chambers,” Ashley chuckled nervously, shaking her hand. “Yes, that would be me. Just Ashley is fine, though.”
“Are you perhaps a close friend of Leon's?” Rebecca asked, tilting her head slightly towards the end of the corridor where Leon was still conversing in hushed tones with the Secretary and Hunnigan. “I couldn't help but notice how worried you looked earlier.”
Ashley hesitated as she thought of an answer to mask the true depth of their relationship. “Yeah, we uh… we've known each other for a while,” Ashley said, offering a small, practiced smile. “It's just the images and the tense situation… It all just kind of got me worried.”
“Well, there is nothing to worry about. A blood sample is all we'll ever need,” Rebecca reassured calmly.
“Dr. Chambers,” the voice of a man called out, belonging to the Secretary. “Ashley,” he greeted, smiling.
“Secretary Braun,” Ashley greeted back, also offering a polite smile.
“Goodness,” the man chuckled. “It's ‘uncle’ to you, young lady.”
Ashley laughed softly. “It's good to see you again, Uncle Joseph.”
“So your father was not kidding when he said you've become a handler. Didn't you graduate from International Relations?”
“Yes, I did. It really comes in handy here.”
“That's good to hear. I'm afraid I have another meeting coming up. I'll have a talk with your father about today's meeting,” Braun said. The two parties go separate ways, Rebecca and Braun heading towards their respective offices, while Ashley, Hunnigan, and Leon head back downstairs, with Leon's hand subconsciously placed at the small of Ashley's back.
~~~
Leon's sedan cruised smoothly through the salted road, the thick patches of ice beneath crunching under his wheels. He glanced over at Ashley, who had fallen quiet compared to her bright, energetic self from this morning. She was staring blankly out the passenger window, while her thumb dug into the skin of her fingers — a habit he had long since noticed she did whenever she was deeply troubled or lost in thought.
“The Secretary of Health,” he started, his voice slicing through the hum of the engine. “You guys seem to be close.”
Ashley flinched slightly as she was yanked back to reality. She turned to look at him, briefly meeting his eyes when he glaced at her again.
"Yeah. I've known him since my dad was a senator," she replied.
"Family friend?"
"More than," she chuckled. “He's my dad's best friend. When my mom passed away... my dad was completely inconsolable. He just couldn't cope. But Uncle Joseph was there. He and his wife practically took care of me while my dad was grieving.”
Leon glanced up at the rearview mirror, catching the small, sad smile that graced her lips as she recalled the ghosts of her past.
Soon, Leon parked the car right in front of Ashley's apartment complex, the engine humming softly in the dark. He shifted into park but left the ignition running, turning his head to look over at her. He looked at her again, and found her deep in her thoughts once more.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice filled with that gentle warmth that was meant only for her.
She didn't answer immediately, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap as she hesitated. Finally, she turned to face him. “You know… the Plaga stayed longer in me than it did in you. They injected it and forced it down my throat. If what they need are antibodies for it, then maybe—”
“Absolutely not.” His words cut through before she could even finish the thought. Sharp and final.
“But what if I can help?” she pressed, leaning slightly across the console.
“Ashley…” he sighed heavily. Reaching across the space between them, he took her hand into his, his grip firm and steady. “Your abduction was hidden for a reason. It's what kept you safe all this time,” he started, keeping his blue eyes locked onto hers so she couldn't look away. “If we tell anyone else about it now, whoever is behind all this is going to know. I can't let that happen.”
Ashley looked down, staring at their joined hands. “I know that,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the engine. “But you're suffering so much already… being a target, potentially turning into some sort of lab rat…”
He chuckled softly, a low, rich sound that was out of place.
Ashley’s eyes snapped up, a sharp glare instantly breaking through as she looked at him. “It's not funny…”
“I've been through worse,” he reassured her smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting into a faint, confident smile. He squeezed her hand, his blue eyes softening as he looked at her. “Trust me, this is nothing. And it's not like I'm going to let them get me anyway.”
Seeing the worry still remain in her eyes, he leaned in, giving her a soft kiss.
“There's nothing to worry about, okay?” he whispered against her skin as he left her lips, his hand sliding up to gently rub her cheek with his thumb.
After a few quiet moments under his steady gaze, Ashley finally sighed in defeat, nodding slowly against his palm. “Okay,” she whispered back.
He smiled, his eyes softening as watched the tension drain from her shoulders. “Good. I'll pick you up for dinner tomorrow. Wear a dress.”
At this, Ashley smiled back as she leaned against his palm. “I'll see you then.”
~~~
Hi! Sorry for being inactive for a while :')) Classes have started (sobbing)
Uploaded 2 chapters to make up for my inactivity qvq
When Capcom sat down to write RE4make and Separate Ways, they had to have a moment of reckoning when it came to Ada's character:
Do they continue to write out her romance with Leon, or
Do they commit to her role as an ambiguous third party agent keeping her fingers in all of the pies?
They chose the latter. They chose the latter because it was more important, narratively. And they couldn't have both, because having both doesn't make any fucking sense and never has made any fucking sense.
Ada is a selfish character, at her core. To have her constantly be soft for Leon undermines that selfishness and makes her other actions not make any sense; if she cared that much about him, why would she continuously serve the bad guys that make his life a living hell? And the reverse is also true. Why would she care so much about Leon if all he does is get in her way and act as a distraction for her?
So anyone who complains that RE4make's Separate Ways didn't show Ada caring enough about Leon -- that was the point. They solidified her identity as a character by doing that.
The writers of the Remake series made a conscious decision to make Leon and Ada's interactions/relationship in RE2make serve an actual function/purpose for their characters instead of "uwu they're in love."
For Leon -- Ada taught him that the people opposed to him aren't always bad guys. She taught him the true lesson of "the road to Hell is paved with good intentions." He learned to trust that little voice in the back of his head that tells him "something's not right here." She also taught him that there's a way to do the right thing without following the rules -- and, sometimes, by breaking them entirely.
For Ada -- Leon taught her that being independent doesn't mean self-isolating -- because just looking out for herself and no one else actually resulted in her just keeping her head down and not asking questions, which screwed her over big time in the end. Leon didn't teach her love or compassion or empathy; he showed her that she was actually being just as naive as he was, just on the other side of the fight.
Basically, they both taught each other: QUESTION EVERYTHING. Because that was the one thing that neither of them did in RE2make until it was way, way too late.
And so, in RE4make/Separate Ways, Ada spends far less time and emotional energy worrying about Leon because she's actually taking the lesson he taught her to heart and she's questioning the people and circumstances around her in order to protect herself. That was the point of her early voiceover about how Raccoon City changed her perspective and made her start asking where her efforts were going and why she was doing what she was sent to do.
She doesn't ask questions for moral reasons. She asks them for selfish ones. Because Ada is an inherently selfish character.
On the boat, Leon asks Ada: "Are you just trying to use me again?" and Separate Ways answers and repeats over and over and over again: YES. The only reason she helps Leon in the village and at Mendez's house is so that he can continue being useful for her. Because Leon didn't teach her to care about people; Leon only taught her how to better take care of herself -- the same way she did for him.
This is a really damning exchange of words:
So, yes -- Ada is using Leon in RE4make. Yes, she only helps him because it benefits her. No, she genuinely doesn't care whether he lives or dies. Yes, she meant it when she told Leon to leave Ashley for dead, and yes, her sole reason for doing it was to get Ashley out of the way because Ada found Leon's new demeanor hot and she wanted to fuck him. No, she had no intention of taking Ashley with them on the chopper at the end -- because yes, her invitation to Leon was a bookend to her earlier offer for Leon to leave Ashley and go fuck her (Ada) instead.
And that's why Leon tells her to go fuck herself and shakes his head in utter disbelief when she asks if he's coming with her.
Because Ada is a selfish character.
I don't say this to hate on the character or even express dislike for her. This doesn't make her a bad character -- in fact, the opposite is true. It makes her consistent, which makes her a better written character overall from what/who she was in OG.
It also doesn't make her evil or a bad guy. Ada Wong is the most Chaotic Neutral character in the entire RE series -- even moreso than Billy Coen or Jake Muller ever were. She's in it for herself, and that particular approach is neither inherently morally good nor evil.
But Aeon is dead canonically in the Remake-verse. It was sacrificed in the name of bringing consistency and logic to both characters.
And that was the true point of the boat scene.
Neither of them have changed who they are at their most fundamental level. Leon is still the selfless hero, and Ada is still the selfish spy. Their relationship in RE2make served as a strengthening of those core traits -- not an erosion of them. Leon can better protect and save Ashley because of the lessons that Ada taught him, and Ada can successfully outmaneuver Wesker because of the lessons that Leon taught her.
But that doesn't change who she is. It doesn't change who either of them are. In fact, it only served to create a more authentic version of them both. Leon is more zealous in his heroism, and Ada is more committed to her own self-preservation and naked about her selfish intentions.
The only people in RE4make who changed who they were were Luis and Krauser. Luis for the better, and Krauser for the worse. And they both paid for it with their lives.
Do you guys think Leon would be the kind of dad who would look like he's in more pain than the baby during their first vaccination? Especially if he has a daughter? Idk I've been thinking about it a lot lol
Almost three years since Spain, a weary Leon returns to the agency after a three-day leave, following a sabotaged mission that nearly cost him his life. He didn't expect to find a sea of new recruits. But most of all, he didn't expect to find Ashley Graham among them.
At 7:41 in the morning, on the other side of the still quiet building, the frantic clacking of keys echoed throughout the hallway as Gina typed away, encoding the transcript of her own assigned agent's previous mission. Her mentor had demanded she finish it by noon.
She had just started.
“...target…was…pursued…north…towards…” she mumbled under her breath, her eyes darting frantically between her messy notes and the glowing terminal screen as she punched in the words one by one. In her hyper-focus, she neither noticed the rhythmic clicking of heels heading her way, nor when Ashley had softly knocked on the partition of her cubicle.
“Gina?” she called out gently.
Silence. Gina’s hands kept moving in a blur across the keyboard, fully engrossed in her work.
“...Gina..?” Ashley called out again, stepping into the narrow space to gently tap her shoulder this time.
“Jesus!” Gina yelped, her entire body flinching as she almost fell clean off her swivel seat, her hands flying off the keys as her head snapped over to her left. Her wide eyes instantly found Ashley standing there, looking deeply apologetic. Gina let out a heavy, dramatic breath, slumping against her backrest. “Ash… God, it's just you.”
“Sorry… bad time..?”
“Kind of… my trainer wants this by noon and I just started,” she laughed sheepishly. “Why are you all the way on this side of the floor anyway?”
Ashley held up a thick manila folder, offering a weak, apologetic smile. “Hunnigan just needed these cross-referenced logs delivered to your department.”
“Ugh, alright, just leave it there,” Gina groaned, turning her chair back towards her desk to continue her work.
Ashley set the folder down at the edge of the desk. With her task done, Gina expected her to turn on her heel to head back to her own department. Instead, she just stood there. Her fingers lingered on the smooth cardboard of the file for a second too long, as if anchoring her to the spot.
Gina looked up from her computer screen, her sharp eyes instantly tracking the way Ashley shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, her gaze glued to the floor. Gina leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “What’s wrong?”
Ashley hesitated for a while, wringing her wrist nervously as she debated whether her troubles were worth sharing or not. The blinking cursor on Gina's terminal screen felt like a ticking countdown, and Ashley swallowed the bitter lump forming in her throat, suddenly feeling incredibly small, and incredibly foolish. Gina was already busy as it is. She can’t just drag her out to talk about something as foolish as her love life when her friend is dealing with something more serious like bioterrorism.
Gina's fingers hovered over the mechanical keys when she noticed her friend's hesitation. She glanced and noticed how her friend's gaze was practically glued to the floor, her fingers twisted into a tight, nervous knot. Her eyebrows shot up and her lips twitched as a sharp jolt of excitement flared up in her chest, instantly putting two and two together. If there’s one thing this woman was good at, it was picking up every little subtle thing. No matter how discreet they were, she didn’t miss the way the celebrated Agent Leon S. Kennedy kept stealing longing glances at Ashley, who was too busy smiling politely at an overly enthusiastic Liam.
But when she glanced at her friend once again, her smile faded. She also didn't miss the thick concealer that caked over the dark circles bruising the skin under her friend's hollow eyes, which were glued to the ground. The usual cheeriness wasn't there either, replaced by the look of a woman whose life just got sucked out of her overnight.
Oh… it's that serious.
“Okay… out with it,” she sighed as she pushed herself from her desk.
Ashley's shoulders stiffened for a while, still hesitant. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers knotting together. “There’s… this friend of mine…”
Gina had to stop herself from laughing, knowing damn well who this conversation is all about. 'A friend, right. Of course,' she thought. Luckily, that amusement did not show on her face. Instead, she only tilted her head slowly, gesturing for Ashley to continue with a supportive, receptive nod.
“And… There's this guy who’s into her. He asked her out, she let him court her, and he’s so great that turning down a guy like him would be plain stupid.” Ashley murmured, feeling the guilt rise in her chest as she recalled how Liam had treated her all this time. “But then… she realized that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t really like him back the same way.”
Gina nodded, slowly swinging in her chair as she listened. “Is there another guy in the mix?”
“Well… there is, but he doesn’t want her as much as she did,” Ashley replied, her eyes downcast.
The slow, rhythmic swinging of Gina’s swivel chair came to a halt as she looked at her friend with sympathy. “So… this friend of yours doesn’t know if she should stay with the safe guy in a half-hearted relationship, or risk being single for the rest of her life?”
“Well, if you say it like that…”
“Okay, look,” Gina started, leaning back on her chair. Ashley finally raised her head, meeting her friend’s eyes. “If she stays with the safe guy just because she’s terrified of being lonely, she isn’t actually saving herself. She’s just building a really comfortable cage. And worse? She’s dragging a completely innocent, great guy into it with her.”
Ashley pursed her lips. She knew that, of course. She knew that keeping Liam around wouldn’t just make her selfish. That would make her a terrible person, and hearing it being vocalized by someone else just hit her differently.
“Li– I mean, this safe guy…” Gina continued, "deserves someone who looks at him the way your friend looks at the other guy. Keeping him around as a consolation prize or an emotional shield isn't fair to him, and honestly?” She leaned forward, looking Ashley straight in the eyes. “It wouldn’t be fair to her, either.”
Ashley stood completely frozen, the raw truth of the words sinking deep into her chest. Her throat felt tight, and she could feel the burning sting of tears threatening to ruin the thick concealer she'd meticulously applied only hours ago.
Gina noticed the sudden, fragile wobble in Ashley’s lower lip. Just then, a couple of trainees from the tech department rounded the corner of the hallway, laughing loudly over their morning coffees.
“Oof… okay, why don't we…” Gina muttered. She bent over to slide her feet into her heels. “...go somewhere else for the rest of this? How about the breakroom?”
Ashley shook her head, quickly stepping back. “No, no it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do.”
“You sure?” Gina asked, looking up at her with a lingering, protective frown.
“Yeah,” Ashley smiled, though the corners of her lips trembled slightly. “Thanks, Gina. Really.”
Gina smiled back, gently squeezing her arm before letting go. “Don’t mention it.”
Ashley gave her one last nod before turning her heel towards the exit. As she walked down the long, clinical corridor, the bright fluorescent lights overhead felt entirely too loud. Gina’s words echoed in her mind like a heavy, suffocating weight. She was right. Going on like this would be unfair to them both. She couldn’t pretend to love a good man while her heart stubbornly stayed with another. Before all of this, Liam had been a good friend. She couldn’t do that to him.
She picked up her pace, heading back toward her workstation in Hunnigan’s department just so she could be alone with her thoughts for a while. There was so much to think about – what she’d say to Liam, how to handle the fallout, how they could possibly move forward. She couldn't afford to hesitate anymore. She needed to make things clear as soon as possible.
“Ashley?”
She froze at the sound of that familiar voice. A cold dread washed over her, pinning her heels to the floor.
‘Oh, God, not now,’ she pleaded in her thoughts.
She turned around slowly, hesitantly, before letting her eyes land on Liam’s surprised face. “Liam…”
“What are you doing over on this side of the floor?” he asked, a warm, genuine smile instantly softening his features.
“I was just… dropping some files off at Gina’s department,” she replied, her voice breathy as she instinctively ducked her chin. She quickly turned around again, desperately trying to put distance between them before her fragile composure completely shattered. “I’m heading back now, see y–”
His hand quickly caught her wrist before she could walk away.
She quickly looked at him, panic evident in her face. Liam’s eyes widened when he noticed this, snatching his own hand back instantly, as if he had just touched something hot and burning.
“Sorry, I…” he mumbled, his fingers curling inward as he lowered his hand. “I uh… I don’t know if it’s just me, but… Have… have you been avoiding me, Ash?”
Ashley’s breath hitched. He was right. For the past few days, she had been avoiding him. She had opted to have lunch hidden away in Hunnigan’s cubicle, using the flimsy excuse of a working lunch. Whenever he called out her name across the crowded hallway, she had simply pretended to be hyper-focused on her tablet and headed in the exact opposite direction. She felt incredibly stupid, of course. She was a grown woman, not some teenager dodging a high school crush.
She took a deep breath, realizing how incredibly small and stupid she must have been making him feel. She looked down at the floor, completely ashamed of her own cowardice. Liam was a good man, and he deserved nothing less than the absolute truth.
“Can… Can we talk..?” she finally croaked out.
~~~
The breakroom was still warm, thick with the residual heat and the heavy, mixed scents of toast and freshly brewed coffee left behind by the morning rush. But with eight o’clock drawing closer, the room had completely emptied out as the remaining employees hurried off to their respective desks to start the workday. Except for Ashley and Liam.
They sat at the exact table where it had all started, the space between them awfully quiet. Ashley checked her watch, the digital numbers reading 7:50 AM.
Ten minutes. She had exactly ten minutes to set everything straight.
In front of her, Liam was tense, worry evident in his face as if he already knew exactly where this conversation was going. Her chest tightened with a crushing wave of guilt at the sight. She swallowed hard, desperately looking for the right words to say.
“Liam,” she started, both their hearts hammering in the suffocating silence as they braced for the impact of what she was about to say. “I’m… sorry.”
Liam’s shoulders dropped, all the tense energy draining out of him as he lowered his head. A soft, defeated sigh slipped past his lips.
“You’re a good man, Liam. Truly,” she continued, her voice wavering as her chest tightened even more at the sight of how devastated he looked. “I’m not saying this just to make you feel better. You truly are, and… honestly? I’m really stupid for doing this, because any woman would be lucky to have you.”
Liam didn’t speak at first. He just stared at the metal surface of the breakroom table, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, before he finally forced himself to look up at her.
“Did I, uh… Did I do something wrong..?” he asked, his voice shaking just the tiniest bit.
Ashley frantically shook her head. “No. Never.”
“I… I can wait, you know?” Liam pressed on, a desperate, heartbreaking hope flickering in his eyes as he leaned forward. “You don’t have to love me right now, Ash. I can give you space, I can—”
“No, please, Liam, don’t do that to yourself,” she interrupted gently, reaching out across the table. “If we force this, I can only ever give you half a heart. You don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who is willing to give you their entire heart without question.”
Liam looked up at her, his eyes glistening with unfallen tears. The sheer weight of his heartbreak was entirely visible, and the sight shattered whatever was left of Ashley’s composure.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m… just not that person for you…” she finally admitted, the words feeling heavy and definitive as they left her lips.
As much as the truth hurt right now, she knew it would hurt infinitely more if they let this drag on—if this exact conversation ended up happening a year down the line after months of pretending.
After a painful, agonizing silence, Liam nodded slowly, taking in everything she had said.
“Okay…” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he looked away. “Thank you… for being honest with me.”
Ashley let out a silent sigh. His kindness felt like a physical weight, making the guilt almost unbearable. She reached out to his arm, giving it a grateful squeeze.
“Thank you, Liam,” she whispered back, her own tears finally spilling over her lashes. “For everything.”
He gave her a weak, reassuring smile, yet he couldn’t mask the sadness behind it. Ashley managed a small, watery smile in return. For the first time in weeks, the crushing suffocating knot in her chest began to loosen. It was terrible to watch her friend hurting, but beneath the guilt, she felt a quiet sense of relief. No more lying to him. No more lying to herself. No more guilt.
“I… I didn’t cross any lines, did I?” he suddenly asked.
Ashley looked at him, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”
“Just making sure.” His hand drifted up to the back of his neck, fingers scratching at his collar in a tense, nervous habit. “I, uh… I actually talked to Mr. Kennedy. Before I asked you out.”
Ashley blinked, the sudden mention of that name making the air leave her lungs. “You did? Why?”
“Well… I noticed you guys were pretty close, and I wanted to make absolutely sure I wouldn’t be ruining anything,” Liam admitted, looking down at his knuckles. “So, when we were back at the bar, I asked him if you guys were a thing, and if it would cause any problems if I pursued you. He told me you weren't, and that it would be completely fine. Told me to do what I want. So… I just assumed that meant nothing was happening between you two.”
‘Leon agreed..?’ The thought echoed in her mind, cold and hollow. ‘Just like that..?’
“I assumed correctly, right?” Liam asked, his eyes lifting to meet hers, pleading for a reassurance she suddenly didn't know how to give.
Ashley could only stare at him, her mind feeling increasingly numb. She forced herself to think logically. What exactly was she so devastated about? There really was nothing official between her and Leon, so of course he would say exactly that. It was the correct answer. It was the truth. Still… the reality of it felt like a blow to her gut.
The man she liked had given her away.
She fought the tears that threatened to fall, taking a breath before finally managing to give Liam a reassuring nod. “Yeah. Yeah, you have nothing to worry about.”
Before either of them could say another word, their phone alarms suddenly rang in unison, the sharp, synchronized blare signaling the official beginning of the workday. They stood up in silence, moving together toward the exit. But right before she could step out into the crowded hallway and disappear into the sea of agents, his voice cut through the noise.
“Ashley?”
She stopped, turning back slowly to face him.
Liam closed the small distance between them. He reached out, his fingers resting on her shoulder for a brief, lingering second – a gentle, grounding touch that carried something heavy in it. Something that felt like a goodbye. A small, painfully brave smile tugged at his lips, even as his eyes remained clear and sad.
“Thank you for giving me a chance.”
~~~
Not far from the bustling hive of the FOS headquarters, the atmosphere inside a secure biochemistry laboratory was entirely different. Here, the corporate chatter was replaced by the low, continuous hum of specialized centrifuges, the rhythmic chug of ventilation hoods, and the sterile click of glass vials. Rows of monitors cast a cool, blue glow across stainless steel counters, displaying complex molecular strings of the Plaga samples that Leon had extracted during his previous mission.
Outside the windows, flakes of snow drifted lazily from the dark sky. Leon looked out, staring at the gentle descent to pass the time while he waited for the analysis to finish.
Hovering over a high-powered electron microscope, Dr. Rebecca Chambers adjusted the focus, her brow furrowed in deep concentration.
“Dear God…” she murmured, frowning. Not a good sign.
“What is it?” Leon asked.
She stood up straight to face him, rubbing her temples to combat the mounting exhaustion. “They’re all different strains of the same virus, alright. Each one of the samples you brought back seems to be more destructive than the last.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Leon sighed, leaning his weight back against the stainless steel counter behind him.
“From what I can see now, it seems they’ve been utilizing the parasite as a vector. It looks like they’re using it to effectively spread the virus across the host’s entire system,” Rebecca explained. “However, the Plaga samples you brought in aren’t genetically identical to the ones that infected you three years ago.”
Leon furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”
“It looks like they’ve genetically mutated the parasite itself,” she replied, turning to gesture toward one of the main monitors. “Using the retrieved DNA, we can simulate the mechanism of how quickly the original parasite spreads the infection compared to this new, genetically modified variant. Back then, the incubation took hours to fully take over, right?”
He nodded, his jaw tightening at the memory. “Yeah… just long enough for me to carry out most of my mission.”
“Well, this new parasite can completely hijack a host within minutes,” Rebecca said, her voice dropping to a grim whisper. “The change would be so rapid, and incredibly painful…”
“Which explains why the victims died screaming,” Leon finished for her, his eyes locked onto the monitor, watching the simulation of how quickly the aggressive infection could spread in real-time.
Rebecca sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “Yup…”
Leon shook his head, recalling the disturbing images of the victims he found in the files. At that memory, his thoughts involuntarily drifted back to Ashley, remembering the way she had paled at the sight of those photos. She should still be at headquarters right now, likely catching up on extra paperwork with Hunnigan while waiting for him to deliver these new findings.
His gaze drifted back to the glass, noting how the snow had already begun piling up outside.
“Looks like it’s coming down hard,” he muttered, gesturing towards the windows.
Rebecca followed his look. “Yeah, it really is. Hold on, let me give you a copy of all this.” She turned back to her terminal, quickly copying the compiled data and transferring it onto Leon’s secure flash drive. Once the progress bar hit one hundred percent, she pulled the drive from the port and handed it over. “Here.”
“Thanks,” he murmured, sliding the drive securely inside his inner breast pocket. “Not heading home yet?”
She shook her head, a tired, wry smile tugging at her lips. “Nah, I basically live here at this point. I’ll continue looking into this and keep you updated.”
“I appreciate that, Rebecca,” Leon nodded, offering a rare, genuine smile. “Goodnight.”
“Be careful out there, Leon,” she called out as he turned on his heel to exit the sterile warmth of the facility.
~~~
By the time Leon arrived back at headquarters, the wind had already picked up, rapidly freezing the pavement and burying the streets under a thick blanket of snow. Just as he had predicted, he found the two women still at their station, the rest of their desks cleared of the day's paperwork, only waiting for him to get there and deliver the data.
As his boots clicked against the linoleum, Ashley’s gaze involuntarily landed on him. For a fraction of a second, their eyes locked, and her shoulders stiffened slightly before she abruptly looked away, fixing her attention securely on her shoes.
“Sorry I took so long,” Leon said, his voice level as he stepped into the dim cubicle, though his eyes lingered on the sudden tension in her posture.
“About time, Kennedy,” Hunnigan replied, rolling her eyes with exasperation. She extended her hand, already expecting the drive.
“Here,” he muttered, pulling the warm plastic from his inner pocket and dropping it into her palm. “The analysis took longer than expected. Rebecca’s still working on the rest of the data, but most of the important stuff is in there.”
Hunnigan plugged it in, instantly pulling up the encrypted document containing Rebecca’s notes to skim the summary. Her brows furrowed deeply as her eyes raced across the glowing monitor, her expression turning incredibly grim.
“A genetically modified Plaga..?” Ashley whispered. She leaned in closer to the screen, the cool, blue light catching the sharp contour of her face. Her voice was barely audible, a faint tremor running through her words as she read the part about the minutes-long incubation period.
“A mutation aimed to make infections spread incredibly fast… If this isn’t part of a plot for some sort of biowarfare, I don’t know what is,” Hunnigan sighed, her keyboard clacking sharply as she began the process to log the file into the FOS cloud storage.
Ashley could only stare at the blinking cursor, the weight of the discovery leaving a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The simulation data was terrifying. Minutes. It took mere minutes for all those lives to be completely erased.
Leon remained quiet, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the partition wall, his heavy gaze tracking the subtle movement of Ashley’s hands as she nervously adjusted the strap of her bag.
With a final, definitive stroke of the enter key, Hunnigan’s terminal screen flashed green.
Upload Complete.
“Alright,” Hunnigan muttered, removing her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “The initial brief is logged. I’ll format the full report for the Director first thing in the morning.” She glanced toward the dark window, where the snow was now violently lashing against the glass. “Assuming we can even make it back into the building tomorrow.”
“You guys have a ride?” Leon asked, his voice cutting through the hum of the cooling mainframe.
Hunnigan nodded, shutting down her system. “Yup. Jonathan’s picking me up. We can give you a lift, Ash,” she offered, turning a perceptive look over to Ashley, whose growing anxiety was becoming hard to ignore.
Ashley perked up instantly, a wave of relief washing over her face. “Really? Where do you guys live? Maybe you can just drop me off nearby.”
“We live over by Lincoln Park,” Hunnigan replied.
Ashley’s hopeful smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. “Oh… that’s… on the other side of town…”
“Oh…” Hunnigan trailed off, her voice softening as she realized her offer was impossible in a blizzard. Then, her sharp eyes flicked toward Leon, who was already looking at Ashley. She noted the way his posture had stiffened ever so slightly, and the way his knuckles had tightened and loosened against his coat, as if trying to brace himself for what he was about to say.
“I can take you,” he offered.
Ashley felt a sharp flash of panic strike her chest, her mind screaming ‘not now, please not now’ after the emotional exhaustion of the morning. She forced her voice to remain steady, desperately trying to decline. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just go get a ca—”
“Cabs are down, and we live closer,” Leon interrupted, his steady gaze pinning her on the spot. “Let me take you.”
Ashley took a sharp breath, the cold air expanding in her chest as she finally accepted defeat. There was no escaping it. The city was shutting down, her options were gone, and standing here arguing with him was pointless.
“Alright…” she muttered, her voice barely carrying over the low hum of the office machinery.
Leon nodded. "Get your coat. I'll meet you by the elevator."
Hunnigan watched the exchange in silence, her sharp eyes moving between the two of them before she slung her purse over her shoulder. She walked over and gave Ashley a gentle, lingering squeeze on the arm. To Ashley, it was a simple, professional gesture to say goodbye for the evening. But it was actually Hunnigan’s silent gesture of support from a friend who knew how difficult the next hour was about to be for the two of them.
~~~
The ride to her apartment was suffocatingly heavy, to say the least. Both of them sat in an agonizing silence, the only sound being the low hum of the heater and the steady, rhythmic swipe of the windshield wipers cutting through the accumulating ice. Leon’s gaze remained locked firmly on the treacherous road ahead, his knuckles white against the steering wheel, while Ashley nervously twiddled with her thumbs in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the dashboard to avoid looking at him.
Through some miracle, they arrived at her apartment complex within twenty minutes, the building barely visible through the thick whiteout conditions.
“Thank you,” she muttered, her voice tight as she quickly gathered her things. Desperate to escape the stifling tension of the cabin, she popped the latch and pushed the heavy passenger door open into the freezing night.
But before she could even swing her legs out, a violent, icy gust of wind came, slamming the door shut with a deafening thud.
Silence fell.
“I'll walk you up,” Leon said, his voice flat.
“You don't have to,” Ashley quickly replied, her eyes fixed on the window, absolutely efusing to look at him. “You've done enough. Just help me with the door.”
“And let you get swept up by the blizzard? I don't think so.”
She let out a huff, thoroughly annoyed by the fact that he was right. One step into that blizzard would no doubt send her flying down the street. She closed her eyes for a moment, forcing a breath into her lungs as she tried to remain calm.
She felt stupid.
‘This is stupid,’ she thought bitterly. She didn't have a single valid, logical reason for feeling like this, yet here she was, on the verge of snapping at a poor, clueless man who had literally just gone out of his way to bring her home safely.
“Okay…” she finally agreed, stubbornly keeping her gaze glued to her shoes.
Leon's gaze lingered on her for a long moment, silently wondering where this sudden coldness was coming from. Of course, he knew that things hadn't exactly been fine between them for a while now. But this… This felt different.
He took a deep breath, killing the engine before stepping out into the roaring blizzard. The wind instantly whipped at his jacket as he dug his boots deep into the fresh snow to keep himself from slipping. Fighting against the gale, he made his way around to the passenger side, pulling the heavy door open for her.
Ashley reached out, her gloved fingers reluctantly sliding into his hand. Leon gripped her securely and hoisted her up out of the cabin, immediately wrapping a heavy, solid arm around her waist to anchor her against the wind as they began the trek toward the building's entrance.
When they finally made it to the entrance, Ashley quickly punched in her code. The lock beeped, indicating that it was open. They then stepped inside, with Leon shutting the heavy glass door behind them. A crisp, digital chime echoed through the lobby as the automatic deadbolt engaged, signaling that the passcode lock had re-secured the building against the elements.
They just stood there for a while, exhaling in unison as they took in the warmth of the lobby.
They turned around to look back through the glass, only to find that the blizzard had become worse. The wind was a roaring sheet of white, completely swallowing the street. They couldn't even see the dark silhouette of Leon's sedan parked just a few feet away through the blinding whiteout.
Their eyes drifted back to each other, a heavy, unspoken realization settling between them in the quiet hallway:
It was impossible for him to drive home now.
Hesitantly, Ashley swallowed down her nerves and spoke. “You… can stay until the storm dies down.”
Leon stared down at her for a long second, his expression unreadable, before he nodded slowly. “Alright.”
~~~
Ashley poured them both a cup of hot chocolate, sliding the mug down the island counter towards Leon, who was sitting on one of the stools. “Here.”
“Thanks,” he replied, reaching out for the mug and cradling the warm ceramic between his calloused hands.
Unlike before, Ashley stayed on the opposite side of the island. She leaned against the edge of the counter as she sipped her drink, once again fixing her eyes on absolutely anything but the man in front of her.
Leon's eyes flicked up, his sharp gaze tracking the rigid line of her shoulders and the way she was practically burning holes into her mug just to avoid his face.
“Ashley…” he called out softly, finally breaking the silence between them.
Ashley looked up, just enough so she could see him over the rim. “Yes?”
“Did I do something?” Leon asked, his fingers remaining wrapped around his mug.
Ashley stared at him for a while. “What?”
“I… I know things haven't exactly been great between us for a while now…” Leon paused, his gaze dropping to the dark liquid before he looked back up, catching her eye for a fraction of a second. “…but tonight, you’re acting like we're complete strangers.”
Ashley let out a cold, humorless breath, staring down into her mug. “Aren't we?”
Leon froze, feeling a sharp pang in his chest. His expression smoothed back into a guarded mask, swallowing hard.
“I did do something... Didn't I?”
A tight, wry smile touched Ashley's lips. “I should be the one asking you that...”
“Ashley, I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave.
A bitter scoff slipped past her lips, the fragile composure she’d been clinging to all day finally beginning to fray at the edges. She tried to stop herself, her knuckles turning white around her mug, but the exhaustion was too heavy.
“I mean… You’re the one who pushed me away first,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. Leon’s eyes widened slightly, his chest tightening as he felt his guilt rising fast.
“I thought things were finally getting better for us,” Ashley continued bitterly, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. “I thought we were finally getting past the awkwardness, that we were going to be fine as friends. I thought we were okay. I thought I was finally going to be okay. But then, without warning, you just… set this wall between us.”
Leon sat there, unsure of what to tell her. “Ashley, I… I did it for you, I–”
“How the hell was that supposed to be for me?” Ashley snapped, her tear-brimmed eyes flashing with sudden anger.
Leon's eyes widened slightly, completely taken aback by her sudden outburst. Even Ashley was surprised by the volume of her own voice, the echo bouncing sharply off the kitchen walls.
Leon hesitated. “I heard you and Liam talking. Weeks ago, in the breakroom. He was asking you out, and I figured—”
“Wha– what on earth does Liam have to do with any of this?” Ashley gasped, her chest heaving as she struggled to pull in air against the suffocating weight in her throat. “How is our friendship going to ruin things between us? Or—or anyone I end up dating, for that matter?”
Leon looked down at his hands, his expression folding into something deeply weary and exposed. “I thought… that that's what you would have wanted…” he admitted, his voice dropping to a rough, vulnerable whisper.
Ashley stared at him in utter disbelief, her hands trembling against the marble. “Is that what you thought when you decided to pass me off to someone else? Hm? When you told him to just do whatever he wants with me, like you never cared?"
Leon went entirely rigid. The temperature in the room felt like it plummeted faster than the storm outside. “He told you…”
“Yes. Yes, he did.”
He closed his eyes, a heavy, defeated sigh escaping his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was still trying to rationalize it, still trying to cling to the lie that his sacrifice meant something.
“Look, Ashley. Everything's turned out for the better, hasn't it? We cleared our misunderstanding. You have a good, safe man to take care of you now. You don't have to deal with the mess that comes with—”
“I turned him down.”
Leon's head snapped up to look at her. “What?”
Ashley looked away. “I… I tried to love him back. I couldn't.”
He stared at her, confused. He remembered the exact way she had pulled Liam closer, the way she had deepened the kiss right in front of him.
“I thought…” He shook his head sharply, his voice cracking. “He's… he's a good man, Ash.”
“You think I don't know that?” she whimpered, a single, heavy tear finally spilling over her lashes and tracking down her cheek.
“He can take care of you,” Leon pressed, his voice dropping into something tight and desperate as he stood up from the stool. “He can give you a normal life. He can make you happy.”
“Who are you to decide who can make me happy?” She sobbed with tears that suddenly wouldn't stop falling. “And if– if you cared so much about my happiness, why would you even–”
“Because I CAN'T–”
The words snapped out a fraction too loud, a fraction too sharp, cutting her off instantly. Leon froze, catching himself the exact moment he realized he had raised his voice. He stopped dead, his jaw locking tight as he closed his eyes, his chest heaving.
“I'm sorry,” he rasped.
The kitchen fell into a suffocating stillness. Ashley stared across the marble island at him, her eyes wide and trembling as she watched his mask slip. The unfinished sentence hung heavily in the space between them.
“Because you can't what?” she whispered, her voice shaking, the words barely slipping past the thick lump in her throat, begging him to continue. She wanted the truth. She needed the truth.
Leon opened his eyes, taking a slow, agonizing breath to ground himself. He anchored his hands flat against the counter, his gaze locking onto hers.
“Because I can't have you, Ashley.”
Her breath hitched, unable to believe the words he just said.
“I can't… make you live a life where you're always left alone,” Leon continued, his voice dropping, laced with agony and exhaustion. “A life where you're forced to spend most of your days worrying… just waiting around for someone who might not even come back home. You don't deserve that…”
He dropped his head, his gaze falling back down to the counter, completely unable to meet her eyes anymore. All she could do was stand there, staring at him, utterly motionless.
“I'd rather you be happy with someone else… living a quiet life somewhere far away,” he said, the words tasting bitter and heavy as they left his tongue. “If it meant you were safe… if it meant you actually had a future… then I can let you go. I can give up the thought of ever having a life with you.”
Her heart was beating frantically now, yet words still refused to come out.
“You say that you don't matter to me, but you do. God knows just how much you do,” he rasped, his voice breaking, as if the truth itself was physically tearing its way out of him.
“But… I can't do that to you, even if I wanted you…”
He finally lifted his head. His steel blue eyes intense, locking into her own.
“No matter how much I want you…”
She stopped breathing, the weight of his confession trapping the air in her lungs. The silence in the kitchen became so heavy she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. She recalled the moments they shared together. Every brush of their skin, the lingering eyes, every time he abruptly pulled away, the walls, the silence… all because of some twisted belief that he was protecting her.
Only then did she dare to whisper the question.
“And… do you..?”
Leon’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the side of the marble island. He didn't move an inch, desperately trying to cling to the last frayed pieces of his logic and self-control. But as he looked across at her, the truth tore out of his throat anyway.
“More than anything.”
Ashley felt the air completely leave her. He said it with such certainty. With so much desperation. So much yearning.
All this time, she thought she was the only one.
They stood frozen on opposite sides of the island, waiting for something… anything to finally release the suffocating feelings they had been holding back for so long.
But seconds passed.
Then a minute.
The agonizing silence stretched until his intense, steel-blue eyes finally wavered. Leon let out a heavy, defeated sigh.
‘No,’ he thought, sharply shaking his head as his internal armor slammed back into place. ‘I can't do this to her.’
He looked away, turning on his heel as he prepared to leave – ready to walk away for the last time.
She didn't let him.
Without a second of hesitation, Ashley crossed the distance between them. She reached out, her fingers catching the fabric of his collar, and pulled him down as she crashed her lips onto his.
He crumbled instantly, a soft, helpless groan escaping the back of his throat, as his restraint shattered into ash.
His hands moved on pure instinct. One found its way to the nape of her neck, threading his fingers deeply through the roots of her hair, desperately pulling her even closer. His other hand gripped her waist, fierce and possessive as he lifted her up to him.
He hooked his arms under her thighs and picked her up with ease. She gasped in surprise, frantically bunching her pencil skirt up to wrap her legs around his waist, before locking her arms around his neck for support.
Leon didn't waste a single step, turning and placing her down onto the marble island counter.
He broke from her lips, his breathing ragged, and immediately attacked her neck, devouring every single inch of exposed skin. Ashley threw her head back, her fingers tangling frantically in his hair as a helpless moan escaped her the moment his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot. He stayed right there, pressing deeper, eliciting a flurry of breathy noises from her that echoed sharply against the quiet kitchen walls.
He stopped abruptly, making her let out a small whimper. He firmly held her at arm's length, letting him see the way she was completely out of breath, her chest heaving, face fully flushed and beautiful.
“Ashley…” he started, his voice a low, gravelly rasp as he struggled to catch his breath. “Do you… want this?”
She nodded quickly, her head spinning, completely drunk from the heat of the kiss they shared.
“No… No, I need to hear you say it,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he brought his hand up to cup her face. “Please,” he begged, locking his eyes onto hers.
She leaned heavily into his palm, savoring the heat coming from his skin. She nodded again, her eyes locking onto him with absolute certainty. “Yes…” She turned her head slightly, pressing a soft, lingering kiss right into the center of his palm. “More than anything.”
Leon inhaled sharply, his chest hitching as he helplessly fell for the sight in front of him.
Falling further for her.
He kissed her again, this time with a deep, aching reverence. The kiss was gentle. Tender. Filled with a lifetime of unspoken longing.
“Just tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured against her lips, his breath warm and trembling.
She shook her head against his mouth, her fingers tightening in his hair. “I won't…”
Leon let out a low, breathless chuckle at her response, the sound warm against her skin.
Excited to share this fun little project I’ve been cooking up with a few folks…
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Season of Leshley
a week of Leon/Ashley creativity prompts from July 13 - 19.
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July 13 - Let's go home
July 14 - The first time
July 15 - Yearning
July 16 - Teammates in every universe
July 17 - Knight x princess
July 18 - Domesticity
July 19 - { Creator's choice }
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Thank you to @tappioca for the wonderful art!
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Use the tag #LeshleySzn2026 to share your works during the week. I can't wait to see all the amazing fanworks y'all will create!!
