Moooooore biblically accurate bug boy, continued from this
(Boy I hope that formats okay I’m on my phone at work)
@twirlytail-ts (sorry about the tag out of nowhere but technically your comment started this) @polarspaz
A week (and a number of too-knowing looks from Director Hunnigan) after the Germany Incident(tm), Ashley gets an unmarked envelope in her mailbox. Inside is nothing but a scrawled set of coordinates and a single lipstick kiss.
(It figures, really, that Ada was still looking after Leon. He’s the kind of guy you want to do good things for.)
So Ashley takes her accrued leave and a red-eye ticket as close as she can get to the coordinates, which turns out to be Madrid. A bus takes her to the closest town, and her feet and a satnav bring her to the coordinates themselves.
A rustle in the woods has her pulling the knife from her boot. A DSO badge has a few nice perks at the airport, like skipping the security check.
“Dulcinea!”
“Don Quixote?”
The tension leaves Ashley’s shoulders, though not entirely. She can’t tell where Luis’s voice is coming from.
She doesn’t need to, though, when she spots movement, drawing her eye to a familiar head of hair and inquisitive blue eyes peeking from over a fallen tree trunk.
“Leon!”
Leon chirps out her name, eyes scrunching up happily as Ashley runs towards him, dumping her backpack to the ground to have two free arms to fling into a hug.
He chitters a laugh and swings her around a few times, feet dangling off the ground until Leon (ever so delicately) releases her.
“I missed you, Leon,” Ashley says breathlessly. He’s got a taloned hand on her shoulder, looking her over at arm’s length.
“What, no love for your brave knight?”
She turns to Luis and wraps him in a bear hug too, a little less aggressively but no less warm. He’s carrying her bag over his good shoulder and grinning.
“I missed you too, sir knight.”
Leon makes a chattering hissing noise too complex for Ashley’s rusty skills to parse and raises an eyebrow at Luis.
Luis apparently gets it, and puts an offended hand to his chest. “A gentleman never corrects a lady’s pronunciation. That would be rude, Sancho.”
Ashley laughs and leans into Leon’s side. “Forgive me. My American tongue is trying its best.”
Leon looks her over again, and makes a sound deep in his chest that became very familiar over their time in Spain the first go round. [Ashley-hurt-question?]
“Just sleepy. Long flight from DC to Madrid,” she reassures him. “Promise.”
“Baby Eagle no more, eh? Our Princessa is all grown up, Leon,” Luis teases.
“Adult Eagle doesn’t have the same ring to it, though,” Ashley muses.
Leon’s side shakes under her shoulder with a chuckle.
“So, what are you doing here?” Luis asks finally. “Not that we aren’t very happy to see you.”
Ashley holds up the letter, blank save for the coordinates and red lipstick kiss.
Leon sighs, but the set of his mandibles is lifted out in a smile. [Ada.]
“Should have expected that,” Luis mutters.
“I can’t decide if I’m happy she’s looking out for you guys, or if I’m unsettled that she knows where I live,” Ashley says.
[Match-same,] Leon agrees.
“Ah, but too much talk! Sancho, we are rude hosts! We have not even invited you in,” Luis tuts, shaking his head.
[Ashley-close-follow,] Leon chitters, offering Ashley a taloned hand to hold as Luis forges ahead into the woods, her bag still over his good shoulder. [Home-safe-warm.]
“Well, lead the way, gentlemen.”
—
It’s a small house, almost more of a cottage, set beside a creek and practically swallowed by greenery.
It’s adorably domestic. Luis starts cooking what smells like breakfast while Leon drags around and rearranges furniture, making a space meant for two into one meant for three. All the while, a steady stream of conversation flows through the room.
Luis dances just short of sharing anything legally incriminating, and Ashley holds her tongue from sharing anything classified, but it’s great to catch up with them.
Finally, breakfast is served, and rather than the table, the three of them sit on the floor, plates on their laps to eat. It’s delicious and rustic and the first home-cooked meal Ashley’s had that someone else made in a long time.
“While I’m here, and before I forget, I have something to tell you two,” Ashley says, once breakfast is a memory and lunch is not yet a thought on the horizon. “It’s something that I’ve been working on with Director Hunnigan for a while now.”
[Hunnigan-boss-question?]
“Yeah, she’s the head of the DSO,” Ashley explains. “Er, right, DSO is what split off of STRATCOM. Specifically the bioterror fighting part of STRATCOM. Anyways, it’s a proposal that’s been in the works for a while, and just needed a push.”
She pulls a folded map from her bag and spreads it out on the floor. It’s Alaska, blown up across several sheets of printer paper taped together.
“A joint base, DSO and BSAA, because they want to have eyes on every possible thing,” Ashley says. “A safe location for researchers and any person who is infected but keeps their mind. Generally agents, but we can cross the civilian BOW bridge when we come to it.”
Leon’s eyes are wide, looking from the map to Ashley’s face.
“Are there… other infected agents?” Luis asks cautiously.
“None that I know of. But when I brought up the idea of someone keeping their mind but mutating physically, all the Director did was sigh and say, ‘I knew the story you had about Condor One was bullshit. He’s too stubborn to go out like that.’”
Luis crows a laugh while Leon’s eyes get glossy, like he’s trying real hard not to cry.
“She also said you owe her a report, but she did that thing with her mouth so I think she was kidding.”
Leon reaches over and gently pulls Ashley into his lap for a hug.
“Well, Sancho, sounds like we may be packing up before too long.”
