A/N: Hey there! This is my first crossover so I'm so excited and don't be harsh on me! I noticed a lot of Lara/Chris pairings but didn't see a Lara/Leon one. So I decided to give it a try, maybe not a romance thing but anything. About Lara however, I'm not entirely sure which version of her I'll be writing with, but I'll try to make it very in-character. I have to admit ever since the 2013 reboot the franchise was dead to me, but when I saw those trailers of Rise, I knew Lara was gradually winning back my heart. I hope she is more like Lara in the new game.
So cheers! Happy reading ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of Resident Evil or Tomb Raider things. If I had, there would have been a revolution!
It would have been another ordinary day at work for Leon Scott Kennedy. That was the routine when he was not dispatched on a serious mission. Most of the time, he would sit in his office, tending to a really messy pile of documents in front of him. Other times he had to arrange his reports and inform Hunnigan, his field assistant, about the things that had occurred during his missions. He would also pay regular visits to the president, simply because the bond between the two had morphed into something more than just work. Occasionally, he would simply converse with his D.S.O. colleagues. On rare occasions, he would go to training fields to strengthen his marksmanship, agility and many other criteria that needed to be met by a special agent.
On far rarer occasions however, he would go on something called "vacation". This one was a semi-vacation, a mission that held the purpose of watching over a certain class of people, yet without the need to interfere directly. Leon was in London, performing his duties on the way to finally eliminate the virus from the surface of the earth.
He had decided to go to a café just to kill time until he received any further information from Hunnigan.
He stepped in with hesitation. Leon admitted to himself that this was one of the classiest cafés he had been to. The welcome scent of coffee wafted through his nostrils, a warm marble fireplace was there in the corner. The place was warmly lit and the wooden floor gave a soft sound as you walked on it.
He was looking for an empty table, but as he quickly glanced around the area, none was available. Everyone seemed to have come here with someone, boyfriends and girlfriends, friends, colleagues, newly wed couples, single moms and their little children. All the chairs were occupied with people, all save for one.
His eyes were dragged to a table near the huge glass window. There was a figure with their back to him, but the chair opposite them was empty. He thought for a second that the person would rather be left alone or maybe they had someone? Nevertheless he walked closer to the table.
Her face was covered down to her lips with the greyish blue hood of her sweatshirt. Leon noticed those heavenly sculpted lips could only belong to a woman, so did her stylish military boots.
Take steps into the outside world.
The therapist's words reverberated in her mind with relentlessness.
"Mind if I joined?" Leon said in a very kind tone, his hand touching the top of the comfortable chair, ready to pull.
"I don't like company" she said in a scoffing tone, her voice threateningly deep. She did not even raise her head a tiny inch.
Leon was surprised at the sentence, but this intrigued him instead. Despite her warning, he pulled the chair and sat in front of her.
The hood blocked him from seeing her eyes, but he saw how she was fiddling with her hands in an uncomfortable way. She would alternate between either that or tapping her fingers against the table in a complex rhythm. The scars on the back of her hands stood out, the red bold cuts rested permanently on her flawlessly smooth skin.
"I've been through many horrible things in my life" Leon opened up with a warm smile. He didn't know why he had chosen those words to start with and he didn't know what he would end up telling, but something told him he was going the right way. He wanted to help an isolated person, especially if there was a possibility that the person was severely depressed. Leon looked down at the table, as if the memories were happening to him again.
"Grisly murders, the loss of innocent lives, that insanity" He paused for a moment, taking a mental break after each word.
Should I tell someone my story about bioterrorism when I don't even know her name? Someone whom I can't even fully see?
"I think I know why you don't want to talk to anyone" he nodded in an emphatic way.
He could say she was intrigued, for she had already stopped fidgeting with her fingers, but she was still immobile as a stone, looking down at the table in front of her.
"Only extreme hurt can do that to people" he said with a warmth that would melt steel.
"I know that behavior" he said as if he had experienced this moments ago "Trauma, PTSD"
All of a sudden a waitress in red interrupted them with a polite smile,
"What would you like to drink sir?" she asked with a mellifluous voice.
Leon looked back at the person in front of him with lingering hesitation,
"Whatever this lady would prefer" he said in his most charming tone and grammar, hoping that she would eventually say something.
"Tea" she said abruptly "jasmine tea" she clarified, cracking her knuckles.
Leon could see the waitress was surprised as well, for all the reasons he was. She registered her order on a tablet.
"And you sir?" she turned towards Leon, leaning forward to hear him better.
"The same." Leon said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Right now he was more focused on the silent girl in front of him. The waitress nodded as she vanished into the crowd after a few soft steps.
"I know it might be a bit rude of me to ask" said Leon "but can I at least see your face so we can talk things over more properly?" he clasped his hands waiting for her response.
A grim silence fell between them, until her hand moved up in a real slow reluctant motion. Her hood fell down and revealed a silky brown hair. She grabbed the pony tail out of her sweatshirt and let it flow right beside her, real smooth, running down to her chest. That hair looked soft as water that ran through your fingers.
A pair of blazing hazel eyes pierced through Leon, more in an act of intense scrutiny. After Yamatai, it was extremely hard for her to trust people.
I swear to God, if you're one of those wolves in sheep clothing…
Leon saw all the scars that were once covered by the hood. The narrow horizontal cut on the bridge of her nose was a cameo. There were other cuts around her eyes but they were in the background in comparison, the skin was recovering. He wondered where she could have gotten all of them.
"You were saying?" She asked in a cultivated British accent, more like demanding him to continue where he left off.
"Trauma can be dangerous if you don't get out" he leaned his chin against the back of his clasped hands. The woman continued to look through his eyes; although he sounded much like that therapist, there was a vague quality of honesty in those greenish blue shades. Her sixth sense told her she could trust him.
"By the way, name's Leon Kennedy" he gave a sheepish smile as if the realization had just struck him, "I'm on vacation here".
She remained silent.
She's not in the mood to get the conversation going like a cheerful ordinary person.
"Wanna tell me your name?" Leon asked further, he still didn't know what to call her.
"No" she said sternly, growing more suspicious as each second flew by. Leon was slightly stunned to see that she was still not willing to open up, as if asking her name was disarming her, if she had any weapons.
"It's alright" Leon cracked another radiant smile " could you tell me an alias then?" he added with his typical humour.
"Why don't you get lost already?" her fingertips pressed against the table harder and he could see how all her muscles were tensing like twisting ropes. There was a flaming threat in her defensive posture, dire threat.
"That's not fair lady" he responded as politely as he could. The chair creaked as he stood up, ready to leave for he had received missed calls from Hunnigan. He continued to walk away, coming to a short halt halfway to the exit. He turned his head to complete his sentence
"I told you my name. You owe me one" a strand of his blond hair swayed in the wind as he stepped out of the café.
Her eyes were set on him to the point that he faded into the colourful wave of different cars which spun like a maddened crowd. There was something about him she just couldn't describe.
"Your tea ma'am" a voice brought her back to reality. She stared at the second emerald cup placed in front of her, just left to cool down without anyone to sip.
Her grip closed around the scorching handle,
I still don't like company.