𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒏, only watching and giving her the space to do it herself. There is no hesitation in the way she handles it, no awkwardness, no need to prove anything. Just someone who has done it enough times that the habit lives in her hands now which tells him more than the file did. After all, paper can make anyone sound useful. Reflexes are harder to fake.
When she says it does not hurt to have a backup, he nods once, agreement settling into the motion. Then the mention of a beer catches him, causing the corner of his mouth to move. He's amused, even if he keeps most of it under control. His gaze flicks toward the transport, then back to her. ❝ If we get through France without anyone trying to eat us, infect us, or bury the report, I'll consider the beer. ❞
Once she has her gear settled, Leon reaches down for his bag and slings it over one shoulder. He is about to turn toward the ramp when he sees her hand move, dropping his gaze briefly to the cross at her throat, then lifts again before it can become intrusive. He has been around enough soldiers, survivors, and walking ghosts to know that people bring pieces of themselves into places like this because sometimes those pieces are the only reason they make it back out.
He pauses for a second, then the sound of someone calling near the aircraft pulls him back to the hangar. Fuel, oil, machinery, the usual comforts. Yet, he gives her the moment. He waits. People don't survive on training alone. They survive however they can▬▬whether it is faith, habit, anger, or a bad joke at the wrong time.
When she looks back at him and says nothing, he does not make her explain it. He only shifts the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder. ❝ Whatever gets you through the door, ❞ he says quietly, his voice low enough that it is meant for her and not the crew moving around them. ❝ Keep it close. ❞
His gaze holds hers for a second longer before he then looks away first. Back to the plane and Leon turns toward the ramp, boots moving over the marked line on the concrete.
