Hunnigan groaned and grabbed her phone from the bedside table, thumbed the screen to answer and raised the phone to her ear. No one spoke on the other and then she heard the ringing again, and she realized it wasn't her phone that was ringing, it was her doorbell. She sighed, got up and scuffed into the foyer, pausing to look through the peephole on the door. A man stood at her door, his head hanging low, his chin pressed toward his chest. She couldn't see his face, but she would've recognized that head of hair anywhere.
Hunnigan opened the door Leon had been leaning into and he stumbled forward, practically falling on top of her. She caught him and helped him regain his balance before closing the door and assisting him with removing his jacket. He reeked of bourbon. She was expecting an explanation to his sudden appearance at this hour, or at least a hello, but instead, he slumped onto her couch like he lived here.
"Take your shoes off, for Christ's sakes," she scoffed and went to intercept his intention to raise his feet onto the couch.
"Sorry," he muttered, took his shoes off and then lay down.
"What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?" she sighed.
"I read your file. I had no idea your middle name is Alaska. Which is a weird name… but it's also kind of cool. Your parents must like cold stuff, isn't Ingrid the name of some fairy tale ice queen?" he pondered but she ignored him.
"Why were you reading my file?"
"Because I needed to know where you live!"
"Why?"
"So that I could come over."
"Why did you need to come over?" she asked in exasperation. This conversation was getting stupid.
"I just got back from Ashley's birthday party. She turned thirty-four. It's hard to imagine just how long it's been…"
"And I assume there was an open bar," Hunnigan commented dryly and took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, shoving at his feet until he bent his legs so that they were out of her way.
"You got it! How was I supposed to resist?"
"Right, so what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see if you felt like offering me a cup of hot chocolate on this fine, chilly evening," he muttered with a smile and she scoffed. The last time he'd asked her the same thing, it had been July and they'd been stuck at the annual and mandatory agency event, aka the "team spirit weekend" at a cabin by a lake. He'd shown up with hot chocolate (his had been more whiskey than hot chocolate, really) and she'd informed him that she'd never had hot chocolate at that hour, especially in July.
"How have you never had hot chocolate at two in the morning?" had been his only comment before he'd just decided to take a seat on her bed and sip hot chocolate like it had been a sleepover.
"Leon, what are you doing here really?" she asked impatiently once more. He got up for a second only to settle to lay back down, this time he moved to rest his head in her lap, his unshaven cheek stinging the bare skin of her thigh that was visible underneath the long T-shirt she slept in. She cleared her throat a little at that, not entirely uncomfortable but not exactly at ease either having him there. He didn't seem to notice.
"It was good to see Ashley, but at the same time, being there just made me think back… to that time and place… and reminded me of the fact that I butchered an entire village," Leon mumbled.
"You didn't have a choice," Hunnigan said quietly. She didn't even pretend to fully understand what it had to be like to live with things like that. Yes, the mission had been a success, but at what cost?
"They weren't given a choice either," he argued.
"Leon, it wasn't your fault."
"Maybe not. But that doesn't change anything," he said and turned to lay on his back.
"So, you came over for hot chocolate and to chat?" she inquired, offering a rueful smile.
"Yeah, kind of. You're my support agent, so… support," he smirked and Hunnigan chuckled softly.
"What do you need?" she asked, and he stared at her. He was quiet for a long time and Hunnigan frowned.
"There's something different about you."
"I'm not wearing my glasses," Hunnigan offered jokingly.
"Oh, yeah! I never realized your eyes were so blue. And you have… eyelashes and everything. Your eyes are beautiful," he said.
"Yeah, you've already tried that line before and it didn't work then either," she dismissed with a sigh.
He muttered an incoherent response sleepily, and it didn't take long for him to pass out after that. Hunnigan got up slowly, careful not to wake him and headed back into the bedroom. She admitted she was flattered he'd chosen to come over to talk to her (or, at the very least, attempt to talk), but she wished he would've done the sensible thing and spoken to the agency psychiatrist. Unfortunately, he only visited for the mandatory sessions required, and she knew he was smart enough to know how to give the answers needed to pass and be able to continue working as a field agent.
Hunnigan grabbed an extra blanket from the closet, draped it over Leon and got back into bed, hoping she could manage to fall back asleep, but already knowing it would be a challenge.
"Okay, okay, buddy," Hunnigan said quietly in another room and Leon cracked one eye open slowly, almost not daring to look. He didn't have any recollection of coming over to Hunnigan's place, he could barely recall looking up her address. Judging from the fact that his face didn't hurt, he probably hadn't said or done anything stupid enough to cause her to punch him.
"You can't be hungry, you just ate," Hunnigan continued chatting and Leon sat up, running his hand over his face and through his hair to straighten it up. He felt rather embarrassed about having turned up here drunk last night, but he couldn't say he regretted it.
He stood up and went to the kitchen where he'd heard her voice from. He took a moment to shamelessly stare at her butt, its shape emphasized in a nice way by the jeans she wore. She'd left her hair open, the brown slightly curled tresses cascading all the way to her lower back. He wondered why she didn't leave it open more often. Perhaps F.O.S. agents had a dress code which dictated the officers should keep their hair tied.
"Good morning," he finally said, his voice a bit hoarse and awkward.
"Morning. Do you want coffee?" she asked over her shoulder.
"No thanks. How about a beer?"
"How about no?" she chuckled and turned to face him, and his jaw dropped a little when he realized she was holding a baby, the child resting against her shoulder as she supported him with her arm, her palm flat against his back.
"Oh! Well. That's… Hm. I didn't…" he stuttered and Hunnigan bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. It was sort of fun to watch the usually so smooth man fumble. From the way he looked around she deduced he was worried the father of the baby would walk in.
"So… when'd that happen?" he inquired.
"About six months ago."
"What? How didn't I know?" Leon frowned, and she shrugged one shoulder.
"I don't know. I suppose you were on furlough… or too drunk to notice…"
"What's his name?" he then asked, ignoring the comment regarding his allegedly excessive drinking.
"Elliot."
"And is his dad gonna walk in any minute now to kick my ass?" Leon inquired.
"Not likely," she laughed softly, shaking her head, "I picked him out of a catalogue," she elaborated, and he frowned deeply as he processed the words.
"You could've asked me for a donation," he then grinned, and she quirked an eyebrow.
"Knowing you, you would've insisted on making a direct deposit."
"Maybe, but you gotta admit, that would've been more fun for you too," he winked, and she rolled her eyes, grabbed her water and shrugged a little to adjust the fussy child in her arms.
"I'm gonna go feed him. And no, you can't watch," she then told Leon and walked past him, heading into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.
Leon looked through the cabinets until he finally found where Hunnigan kept mugs and glasses, and he grabbed one before proceeding to fill it with water, becoming aware of how thirsty he was only when he took the first swallow and couldn't stop from emptying the glass in a few long gulps. He refilled the glass and took a seat at the kitchen table, leaning his chin in the cup of his hand as he stared out the window. The hum of traffic and the wind throwing rain drops harshly against the glass were the only sounds in the apartment at the moment.
Six months, he mused. He couldn't believe he'd never even noticed Hunnigan had been pregnant. In his defense, they rarely met face-to-face, and he mostly saw only what was above her shoulders, it was difficult to tell from that.
No, stupid, the baby's six months, she was expecting him the nine months prior, where was I? he pondered. He knew he hadn't been on furlough for that long, but he couldn't remember any missions… not any big and important ones anyway.
I've gotta stop drinking, he sighed internally before proceeding to do the math. It was early November now, so that—
"Oh, you're still here," Hunnigan said when she returned to the kitchen, apparently having gotten the baby to sleep. "Okay, that sounded a bit rude, but you know how I meant—"
"You lied to me."
"Excuse me?" Hunnigan scoffed.
"July 2017. That's when Elliot was conceived, isn't it?"
"What's your point?"
"My point is that we shared more than hot chocolate that night," he reminded her, unnecessarily.
"And you've just decided that you were the only one I 'shared a hot chocolate' with? Don't flatter yourself. Besides, even if the timeline does match, that doesn't eliminate the possibility of me having gotten impregnated via artificial insemination."
"It seems a bit too convenient from where I'm looking at it," Leon argued. "Tell me."
"I'm not obligated to tell you anything, not even if you were the father, end of discussion," Hunnigan informed him and he stood up. She didn't take a step back when he stepped toward her. Anyone else would've.
"I need to know."
"Fine, you're not the father," she said.
"I don't believe you."
"Well, then I can't help you," Hunnigan shrugged and moved to walk past him, but he took a step to the side and blocked her.
"I will hurt you," Hunnigan threatened him, but he didn't listen.
"If he's my son and I played a part in bringing him into the world, I think I have the right to know about it."
"Oh, please!" Hunnigan sneered at him. "It's a miracle you managed to get your almost-whiskey dick anywhere near me let alone manage to keep at it until you actually came, but that's as magnificent as your contribution gets."
"So, you're admitting I contributed?" he countered, ignoring the insult to his manhood, but not agreeing it was deserved because the way she described it wasn't how he remembered it and it was obvious she was just looking to get him mad enough to leave and forget the conversation. They'd both been a bit a drunk at the time; not so drunk that they hadn't known what they were doing but drunk enough to actually do it despite better judgment. And quite frankly, as far as he was concerned, it had actually been pretty damn good… as far as a sloppy drunken sex went anyway.
"I'm not admitting anything. This conversation is over."
"You're being unreasonable!" he yelled and immediately regretted raising his voice.
"Oh, well done. Magnificent job, thank you so very much!" Hunnigan hissed at him furiously when the baby began to cry after Leon's loud words had woken him up.
"I'm sorry…!"
"Go home, Leon!"
He was about to do just that but changed his mind after standing at the front door for a long while. Finally, he turned on his heel and went to the bedroom. Hunnigan glared at him as she paced back and forth slowly, quietly hushing the fussing child and he began to settle down little by little.
"…if he's mine, will you at least let me hold him for a while?" Leon asked in a soft mumble. When Hunnigan stepped toward him, he was expecting her to shut the door in his face. Instead, she moved to carefully hand the baby over to him and he swallowed hard.
"I didn't plan it, but since it happened, I figured why not because as my mother ever so frequently likes to remind me, I'm not getting any younger, and having a kid at thirty-eight was pushing it already, so it was kind of now or never," she muttered as he cradled the baby in his arms, the child's agitation and discomfort replaced by confusion regarding seeing a new face. He reached to touch it, managing to punch Leon's chin softly and leaving behind a tiny scratch, but Leon just chuckled at that.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to. I didn't want you to think I was expecting you to step up or whatever, because I never asked for your opinion in the first place. I don't want anything from you. Like you said, you've already made your contribution."
"It never occurred to you that maybe I would want to be a part of his life?"
"No. And it makes no difference even if you do because you're not going to be," Hunnigan said and went to Leon, moving into position to silently make it clear she wanted her child back.
"How can you say that?" Leon frowned and reluctantly gave the baby back to her.
"By imagining the disappointments and heartbreaks he'd endure when you'd let him down by not showing up to take him to the ball game because you're lying passed out drunk in a ditch somewhere."
"Harsh."
"Realistic."
"I can quit drinking whenever I want."
"I'd assume that if that were true, you would've already done that," Hunnigan said, turned around and lowered Elliot into his crib.
"It is true, I've just never really wanted to quit."
"Oh, and now that's all magically changed and you're gonna clean up your act and be father of the year," Hunnigan mocked sarcastically.
"Now I have a reason to do something about it."
"Leon, you've known about him for ten minutes. You've probably not even processed the information properly and tomorrow you won't want to have anything to do with him. And if not tomorrow, then maybe next year. Or maybe after Elliot has already grown old enough to know you're abandoning him. Why should I risk putting him through that?"
"What the hell makes you think I'd abandon him?" Leon frowned.
"The way you've lived your life for the past fifteen years that I've known you."
"You can't seriously tell me you intend to keep me from seeing him, you've just admitted he's mine, I have rights, don't I?"
"As far as the legal system is concerned, no, you don't. You're not named anywhere as the father. And if I were you, I'd think twice before even considering suing me for custody because I am not above bringing up all the times I've had to pick you up from all over the country and the globe after your numerous drunken misadventures, so you can imagine how the court would decide when it comes to choosing a parent who can provide a stable home," she narrowed her eyes at him and he sighed deeply, hanging his head low.
Truthfully, he hadn't even considered that because Hunnigan was right.
"I'm not talking about custody, I'm not an idiot. I'm talking about you letting me see my son and be a part of his life. Your rules. Just let me be here. I could babysit for you."
"I'll think about it," Hunnigan responded in the diplomatic alternative to flat out saying no.
