The heavy breathing that rasps on the opposite side of the line concerns him. Leon pulls the phone away from his ear and gives it a puzzled look before bringing it back to his face.
"Claire?" He asks, confused about the nature of the call. "Did you mean to call me?"
There's the muffled sound of something being shuffled around and a hard thud that makes him suspect that she might have dropped her phone. He hears her muted cursing in the distance and holds in his laugh as he waits for her to speak.
"Leon!"
Her voice is uncharacteristically high-pitched and he isn't sure if it's because of poor reception or something else.
"Uh," he hesitates, "Are you alright?"
"Umm, yeah!" Her voice is sing-song, but quickly drops an octave as she hisses, "Actually, no. Fuck Chris."
Leon has no idea what to make of her commentary given the lack of context. Truth be told, he can't even remember the last time he spoke to Claire.
"Why are we fucking Chris?" He asks, eyebrow raised even though she can't see it.
He can hear her exhale slowly, breathing through her nose like she's holding in a laugh.
"Oh my gosh, Leon. Ew. Ew! Not like that." She pauses for a moment and he hears a glass clink against a tabletop. "He's a dick and we hate him."
Leon laughs and buries his face in his hand as it all begins to come together. Claire's drunk.
"Come on, Claire," he teases, "You don't hate Chris. He's your brother. You know...the one you risked your life for back in Raccoon?"
She hiccups, a high-pitched, mouselike sound that makes him smile even wider, "Ye-eaah...I regret that."
He leans back against the headboard of his bed and looks up at the ceiling with an amused smirk on his face. It's already half past midnight, but she hasn't apologized for waking him.
"Why are you mad at Chris?" He asks softly, genuinely curious to find out what heinous crime had broken the seemingly infallible bonds of their siblinghood.
"Cuz he's a diiiiiiiick…!" She sounds annoyed about having to repeat herself.
"I get that," Leon retorts, "But why is he a 'diiiiiiiick?'"
Claire's infectious laughter echoes through the phone and he can't help but to laugh a little himself. It's not that he thinks he's particularly funny, but more because she sounds so strangely adorable.
"Well," he can hear her take a gulp of whatever she's drinking, "He said I can't be an Umbrella asskicker."
Leon has no idea what she's talking about.
"An Umbrella asskicker?" He asks for clarification.
"Oh, he didn't invite you either?" She scoffs and he can practically hear her rolling eyes, "Well, Mr. Dickhead decided he's gonna run off with his friends and make a super secret Umbrella asskicking squad and he said I can't join."
He's not sure if she even knows what she's talking about.
"Sounds pretty lame." He admits, "I wouldn't want to join anyway."
The sound of her giggling ignites a warmth in his chest and his cheeks start to hurt from smiling.
"Where are you?" He's a little concerned by the fact that she's apparently drunk and alone in the middle of the night.
He hears the ice rattle in her cup and she snarkily comes back with, "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Leon sighs as he climbs out of bed, flicking on his bedside lamp. The room is suddenly enveloped in a dull yellow glow and he winces, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness with the back of his hand. He squints as he peers around his dimly lit bedroom and retrieves a discarded t-shirt from the floor.
"Yes, I would." He says, dropping the phone onto his bed for a brief moment to pull on the shirt.
"Why?"
"Because it's really late and I don't think you should be drinking alone."
He hears her breath hitch before she begins giggling.
"Oh, are you worried about me?"
He feels his cheeks begin to burn as he rifles through the drawer of his nightstand for his wallet.
"As a matter of fact...yes."
Leon shoves his wallet in his pocket and jangles his keys loudly when he lifts them in hopes that the sound will somehow pressure her into revealing her location.
"Oooh, are you gonna, like...arrest me, officer?" Her voice is smoky this time and it does something to him that he doesn't quite understand.
He lets the door to his apartment slam closed a little more forcibly than intended in his haste to find her.
"If that's what it takes."
"I didn't know you were so kinky, Mr. Kennedy." She breathes into the phone and he feels embarrassed for whoever is sitting nearby.
"Just doing my job, ma'am." He comments lamely with the best southern drawl he can muster.
He's sitting in his car now, thumb hooked around the base of the steering wheel as he waits for her to instruct him on where to go.
"Well, if you really need to take a criminal like me off the streets…I'm at Steve's Bar."
"I don't know where that is, Claire."
He hears more shuffling like she's holding the phone away from her face and she faintly calls out, "Hey sir, where are we? Like, the street or whatever? I'm about to get arrested!"
Leon doesn't know if Claire's a frequent flyer at that bar, but he hopes for her sake that she isn't. He cringes as he listens to her speak and half-regrets the fact that he'll soon be seen with her. When she finally divulges the address, he's incredibly grateful to know it's within a couple blocks of his apartment.
"So…" She chimes, filling in the awkward silence as he sits at a red light, "What are you wearing?"
He's at a loss for words, face burning so hotly that he wonders if he might die.
"You know who you're talking to, right?" He asks, concerned that she may be even more drunk than he initially thought.
"I'm speaking with Mister Officer Kennedy, sir!"
He hears someone chuckle in the background and he wonders if he should change his name after this is all said and done.
It doesn't take long for him to find her in the dark, seedy bar. She's sitting up front with her chin resting in her hands, pouting at the bartender who politely ignores her petulant whines for attention each time he passes by. He makes eye contact with the older man and mouths an apology, earning an amused smirk in return.
"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm gonna have to ask you to step out of the car." He jokes, coming up behind her without a proper greeting.
Claire visibly jumps and pivots around on her stool to face him with a stupid, drunken smile plastered on her face as she gushes, "Oh, hello, Mister Kennedy Officer, sir!"
He's not used to seeing her with her hair down and it temporarily stuns him. Leon hadn't realized just how long her hair was and he nearly gapes at the sight of it falling in long, wavy tresses that end at her chest. After the initial shock wears off, he realizes that she's dressed in a ratty, old t-shirt with a pair of plaid pajama pants and mismatched flip-flops.
"Claire, what the hell…"
She shrugs and then hiccups so forcefully that she nearly tumbles out of her seat. With surprising grace, she catches herself on the edge of the bar behind her and looks up at him, dark hair falling in her face as she smiles sheepishly.
"I'm glad you came to arrest me cuz I don't...think...I can drive home."
Her eyes are closed and she's slurring her words as she sways back and forth on her stool. There's a tinge of pink dusted across her cheeks and her chin is lifted upwards at just the right angle, like she's expecting him to lean forward and ki-
Leon catches himself and shakes his head as though the force of the movement will fling the thought right out of his skull.
"Come on." He slips his hands beneath her armpits and hoists her to her feet, but he isn't particularly surprised when she stumbles forward and crashes into him. Her weight is too slight to knock him off balance and he wraps his arm around her back to steer her away from the bar and towards the front door.
Claire mumbles something under her breath, but he can't make it out. She leans her head on his shoulder and allows him to lead her to his car on her shaky legs. With the side of his hip, he keeps her propped between himself and the car as he fishes through his keys.
"You shouldn't drink so much." He chides as he opens up the passenger door, one arm still wrapped around her side to keep her steady.
Claire stands there, staring at the empty seat, unsure of what he expects her to do.
"I'm an a-d-u-…-u-l-t!" She says proudly, "I can drink if I wanna."
Leon sighs as he looks up at the sky, inky and dark without a star in sight. He doesn't feel like arguing with her, not in this shady bar's parking lot in the early hours of morning, so he moves forward to sweep her off her feet.
Claire lets out a squeal of surprise as she wraps her arms around his neck for stability. She's too drunk to figure out what he's doing until he already has her neatly arranged in the passenger seat and is leaned over her lap, tugging the seatbelt into place.
"Safety sure is sexy." She breathes against his face and the heat of her breath makes him blush.
Claire trails her fingertips over the front of the seatbelt and shimmies a little in her seat, winking at him as she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. Leon rolls his eyes as he slides back into the driver's seat and glances over at her to ensure she hasn't somehow managed to hang herself with her seatbelt in her drunken state.
He doesn't expect to be interrogated on the way back to his apartment.
"Isn't your...girrrrrlfriend gonna be mad that you're bringing a cute drunk girl home?" Claire teases as she fiddles with the radio.
"Uh, well…" He frowns hard as he comes to a stop at a red light, "I don't have a girlfriend, so I think you're safe."
Claire seems satisfied with the rock station she finds and leans her head against the window with a smile on her face, humming in tune with the music.
"Not even Ada?" She spits her name like it's venom, her lips pulled into a pout.
Leon sighs, "No, Claire. Ada's dead."
"Thank god for that." She grumbles under her breath and crosses her arms over her chest.
After a fleeting moment of silence, Claire is back to her bubbly, inebriated self.
"So, like…" She scoots forward in her seat to twist her entire body in his direction, expression serious as she continues, "...when I kill Chris, you'll totally help me hide his body, right?"
He doesn't answer with the swiftness she had hoped for and she noisily slams her hand down on the dashboard.
"Hey, I helped you kill some zombies! Like...lots of zombies! You can help me hide a body."
Leon sighs and gives her a pointed look.
"Claire, you're not going to kill Chris and I'm definitely not hiding his body because, for starters, I wouldn't even be able to lift him."
There's a cheeky smile on his face as he responds and Claire grins brightly.
"But...you would hide a body for me, right?"
Leon's grateful to be pulling into the parking lot of his apartment complex at that moment and he all but jumps out of the car as he rushes to the opposite side to meet Claire before she can manage to fall face-first against the pavement. He offers her a hand and helps her to her feet, one arm wrapped around her hip, and he's met with the smell of alcohol and lavender. Were it not for the former, he might have been tempted to lean in closer.
She stumbles up the stairs, but there's no embarrassment on her part. Claire is all giggles as he places a hand against the small of her back to help keep her steady and she leans into him, resting her head on his chest just below the broad cut of his shoulder.
"You're really warm." She murmurs, slowly succumbing to the lull of sleep.
Claire wraps her arm around his body to pull herself just a little closer, embracing him as he nearly drops his keys outside of his door. He idly wishes that she weren't so drunk, that perhaps she'd be willing to get this close to him while sober, but Leon tells himself it's nothing personal. Claire would have been like this with anyone after all the drinks she had managed to throw back.
Still, he lacks the restraint to keep from taking just a little advantage of it. He keeps his palm pressed to the curve of her hip as he guides her inside and he can't help but to notice the smooth strip of skin that peeks out from above the waistband of her pants that are beginning to ride a just little too low.
"Your couch is so much bigger than mine…" She laments aloud, reaching out for it as he maneuvers her through the living area. He laughs at the comment and shakes his head, blindly fumbling for the light switch in his bedroom as he keeps his attention trained on her.
Claire's eyes widen once the light reveals his bedroom.
"You're...we're gonna sleep together?" She gasps, cheeks burning hot at the implication.
Leon's heart skips a beat, but he tells himself it's because he's worried that he's somehow scared her.
"No, I'll sleep on the couch." He says lamely, gesturing back towards the living area.
Claire's brows furrow and she looks up at him, cheeks puffed out in anger as she questions, "Why? Cuz I'm not Ada?"
"I…" He shakes his head, struggling to come up with a response, "No, Claire...it's because you're drunk and you don't know what you really want."
She crosses her arms across her chest and he catches a glimpse of that tantalizing, forbidden sliver of skin beneath the hemline of her shirt.
"You're so dumb, Leon." She scolds, "If I wanna sleep with you, I'll sleep with you and it doesn't matter if I'm drunk or not cuz I can sleep with whoever I want and that whoever I want is you even if I'm drunk but it's not cuz I'm drunk and it's cuz it's you, okay?"
He has no idea what the hell she just said, but nods his head and reaches out to tuck a tendril of her dark hair behind her ear anyway.
"Okay, Claire." He yields and moves towards the bed to pull back the blankets for her.
She climbs in with as much anger as she can muster, but she mostly struggles with her alcohol-induced clumsiness. He watches her curl up in the space he usually sleeps in and she pulls his extra pillow against her chest in an embrace.
"Not that comfy…" She mumbles and he laughs while taking a seat at the foot of the bed.
Claire nearly passes out the moment her head hits the pillow, but he lingers for a while to study the shape of her and how well she fills out half of his bed. Part of him feels ashamed for it, embarrassed by the realization that she looks even better in his bed than in his imagination, but a bigger part of him wants to store the memory away for safekeeping. He reaches out to brush her tousled hair away from her face and arranges the blankets around her a little more neatly before heading towards the couch with just a hint of reluctance.
Maybe, one day, she'd be willing to climb into his bed without alcohol on board and, much to his surprise, Leon sleeps easy with that dream in mind.
I'm sorry for making drunk!Claire so extra, but it was way too fun to write. Thanks to Xaori for validating my terrible ideas as usual. 3