(A/N) Okay, so this is a short one shot.. I might continue it, probably not. But with all the gore I've been writing lately (cough) and not publishing (cough) I decided to throw in a little romance. The style might be a bit confusing, but anything italicized and in (parenthesis) is Leon's subconscious kind of butting in and saying what her really thinks. No flames, unless those flames have a valid reason. But be warned, if I do not find your reason to be valid, I will contact to and inquire as to the reason of your flaming. Reviews are love, requests are amazing. I dedicate this to a dear friend of mine (not to be named)

Rating: K

Characters: Leon, Ashley


Vanilla. Ashley always smelled like roasted vanilla with a hint of sugar. Even when we were trapped in that hell hole in Spain. Every time I'd brush too close to her I'd get a whiff of vanilla.

It's infuriating. I shouldn't be thinking this... I can't be. It's not right. And it doesn't help at all I'm with her 24/7.

At Ashley's request I was stationed as her body guard. God knows she doesn't think of me as such (how does she think of me?)

Every time I touch her, I lose a little bit more of my sanity (do I even have nay left?) Warm skin. She's always warm... like a human space heater or something. Her body is warm and her hands are cold... a constant freezing chill (like ice, almost), stark in contrast to the heat of her wrist and arm.

And pale. She says she never did like physical activity. You wouldn't know it from the way she acted... who knew the President's daughter could pull off a round house kick so well?

Another thing... she's capable. Brave too. I don't think I've ever seen a more confident woman (excluding Ada)

Every day I'm around her... every library book I reach for her, every meal she (orders out) "makes" me, every movie we watch just has me falling harder and faster for her.

But I pull myself back. I keep from telling her (blurting out) how I wish for her.

I get myself to a point (convince myself that it's merely lust. I don't love her (I can't) I just need to get laid.

But then she turns to me, "Leon, how about this movie?" she holds out some mushy chic flic crap that I wouldn't watch to save my life. "Sure," I lie, "That's fine."

It's not my fault, really. I could never say no to those eyes. Her brown eyes that are never really brown. More like a dirty gold with strands of copper wired through. If I ever dared to refuse her (has there been an instance?) She would wilt. Her smile would fade, her eyes lose their sparkle and take over a dull hue. And then I cave. And she's happy.

I have to keep her happy. It's my job. "Keep her safe." I was ordered.

And I did. From a distance. Behind a stoic expression and occasional dimly lit grin.

But she was depressed (who wouldn't be?) Nightmare haunted her and she had no one to talk to (I was right there) So then my orders were "Keep her safe. Keep her happy." With me as a distraction is that really all I am?) she was happy. Elated, joyful, delighted. This could be a problem (is it really?)

So here I am. In Ashley's apartment, secret service at the door (do they really have to be there?) watching that mushy chic flic that I'd never sit through, even if it would save my life.

But I'm not watching the movie. I don't think I could, even if I wanted to (which I don't) Because I can't take my eyes off her.

Sitting in front of me on her plush carpet, I stare at the back of her head.

Blond hair, pulled back in to a messy bun. She still smells like vanilla (God help me...) I listen to her near silent mumbling so the movie screen and think of how I would love to run my hands through her hair, just to feel if it's really as soft as it looks.

So I reach. One large, calloused hand out to touch her (I shouldn't) just to feel her warm skin under mine (I can't)

"Leon?" She turned, I drew back my hand and pretended to brush away a piece of lint from her couch.

"Want some ice cream?" She grins, cherry lips pulling back in to a pleasant smile.

I nod. I can't speak... If I did I would say something (I love you) Then it would end (I can't live without you) I would be reassigned (I can't let that happen)

All I could do was watch her retreating figure... the gentle sway of her hips (I wanted to hold her) as she went to get ice cream from her freezer. And I tell myself I can't want her (Love her) it's not allowed.

It starts over again.