Hey again.
I actually wrote this story years ago and completely forgot about it. I wrote it just after Degeneration came out because I really like Angela's character and I guess even back then I was tired of Ada.
This takes places completely separate from my other RE fic and timeline wise, this takes place after Resident Evil Degeneration and Damnation. I'm not entirely sure how it fits in with RE6, but honestly take your pick: before or after. It doesn't really matter. It wouldn't affect the story either way.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one-shot.
Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil or any of the characters/places therein.
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Shells covered the ground as they fell, exploding out of the chamber as fast as the rifle would allow. Angela ejected the spent magazine and spun on her heel as she slammed her last spare clip in and aimed. Aiming down the blackened sights of her assault rifle, she could make out the disgusting putrid form on a T-virus zombie. The man, or at least what had once been a man, shuffled towards her on broken legs. A femur was exposed through congealed blood and torn clothing. Both arms were stretched out towards her, but only one ended in a hand. The other was a bloodied stump; Angela guessed something had torn the man's arm off right before he died, probably causing his death. The same creature had inflicted the hideous gashes across the zombie's face, leaving little recognizable details. A single blood-shot eye and a few teeth were all that was left of what had once been a middle-aged man's handsome, if unremarkable, face. Beyond this zombie, Angela could see the blurry forms of even more T-virus victims. They moaned and gurgled in a disgusting, shivering way; it sounded like each was drowning in the phlegm and blood that filled their lungs.
Like the one nearest her, these poor retches had been slaughtered by a bio-organic weapon. And now they had returned to horrific un-life as little more than mindless flesh things. Meat and bone kept alive through the virus' nightmarish effects. They shuffled towards her, moaning and dribbling blood and ichor from every orifice. Scientists, technicians, security guards and even people in civilian clothes; all had been killed. All had been infected. Angela hated them; she hated them with an insane deep loathing that could only come from losing a beloved family member to the same virus. She didn't hate the people they had once been. For all she knew they had been virtual saints in life; friendly to strangers and loving to friends. But now there were vectors by which the plague could still spread. There could only be one release from their torment, one way to put their violated bodes to rest.
Angela tightened her grip on the trigger and fired. High-velocity, hollow-point shells exploded out of the barrel. The first salvo burst the head of the zombie closest to her, and her second downed two more. She fired controlled, three-round bursts. She aimed for the head, but any shot that hit did damage. Her rifle was custom, issued only to the elite government agency she was now a part of. Each shell had been crafted to destroy limbs and shatter bones. Zombies felt no pain and never stopped, but not even the T-virus could keep a zombie moving if every limb was torn apart. And that was what her rifle and ammo were designed to do; tear limbs apart and cause so much collateral damage to a body that nothing moveable was left. Angela fired and fired and fired. Each salvo tore another zombie in half, or took a head from its shoulders. In a matter of heartbeats ten zombies were down forever. More kept streaming in and she kept firing. Her barrel was glowing orange from so many consecutive rounds. Finally the hammer clicked empty and the bullets stopped. Angela growled in anger and tossed the rifle to the floor.
She pulled the pistol from her hip and grinned slightly. There, on the handle of her beautifully crafted handgun, was an engraved heart. The letters A and L could be seen in the center of the engraving. The pistol had been a gift, a first year anniversary gift from her boyfriend. The weight of the gun was refreshing and familiar; it was like he was watching over her even now. The pistol fired and another zombie dropped, a perfect hole in its forehead. Angela aimed again and fired. Another kill. Two more quick shots and the last T-virus zombie fell, blackened blood spurting from its ruined face. The room was suddenly very silent. Angela could feel the rigging of her shots in her skull; next time she would remember her ear-plugs. Hopefully though there would be no "next time" for a very, very long time. The sound of corpses settling in their death throes almost made her gag. The T-virus was as monstrous in death as it was in life; the remains of the slain zombies rapidly turned a rotten brown color and liquidated into organic slurry. Angela looked away and quickly reloaded her pistol, preparing herself for more.
Her radio crackled to life and she pulled the device from her belt.
"Miller here, west wing secure." She waited a second, "I'm going to need more ammo." She said as almost an after-thought. There was a chuckle from the other side of the transmission
+No need Miller.+ The woman said, +Area secure. All personal report complete extermination of all BOWs.+
"Any casualties?"
+None. Clean mission.+ There was a pause as Angela took in this pleasant news. After a moment, a stray thought entered her mind.
"Have you heard…anything…from um, you know?" She asked nervously. The woman at the other end sighed, obviously used to hearing this broken question.
+No news from Agent Kennedy. But his vital monitor is still active, if a little elevated.+ Another pause, and when the woman's voice returned it was softer, kinder and more sympathetic, +I'm sure he's fine Angela. Leon loves you and if I know that man, he's making those bio-terrorists pay for every second he's away from you. +
"Thanks Hunnigan." Angela said with a slight smile, "Keep me posted if anything changes, please."
+I always do+ the operator laughed, +Hunnigan out. +
Angela returned the radio to her belt and ran a hand through her sweat-locked hair. Her skin felt grimy and sticky and she told herself it was just sweat running down it. Her mind was still racing, eyes darting from corner to corner and ears straining to pick up even the slightest noise. Hunnigan had called the operation, but that didn't mean Angela would let her guard down. All it took was one barely animated torso and a few teeth to infect someone. It was the first real piece of advice her partner Leon had ever given her about BOWs; never assume you got all of them.
Several minutes of tense silence followed as Angela slowly made her way out of the compound, watching each and every body she stepped over for signs of life. There were none and Angela soon found herself in the research facility's reception hall. The other agents in her team had already gathered. They were a haggard and disheveled lot ex-Military officers and specialist recruited from more clandestine Government Agencies. They were not an official team, not like the BSAA. No Angela let Christ Redfield and Jill Valentine run their team the way they wanted. The teams she and Kennedy put together were on an as-needed bases and then only under the direct order from the President. Where the BSAA was a global initiative, this nameless temporary team operated solely in American territories so that the BSAA could redirect resources elsewhere. The BSAA was the hammer-blow to the careful scalpel that she and Kennedy helped direct.
"That's another Neo-Umbrella facility cleared, ma'am." One of the team, a man recruited from the British Royal Marines, spoke up. The rest of the team turned to their leader and offered affirmatives.
"Bastards are like weeds." Grumbled a computer expert from the CIA, "You would think they'd have better security systems by this point."
"Neo-Umbrella doesn't care about their employees or followers." Angela spat in disgust as she eyed the poor receptionist girl who had been shot twice in the head after she had turned into a zombie, "All they care about is that damn virus and how many governments they can hold hostage by threatening an outbreak."
"Well these traitors and freaks won't be infecting anymore Americans." Responded a freelancer from the Saber Teams PMC. Angela didn't fully agree with the mercenary's blind loyalty to the United States, but the man was a competent soldier and she kept her silence. For all she knew the workers here had simply been desperate stiffs needing money to feed families; no everyone who worked with Umbrella was evil. Some simply needed the money. Each member of her team was being paid well by the American Government, not so much for their skills but for the silence afterwards. The public could never know how close Chicago had truly come to being infected by this hidden facility and its BOWs.
"Any update on Agent Kennedy's mission?" asked a grizzled Marine Corps captain on loan from his command. Angela shook her head.
"No. But Agent Kennedy works best on his own when he can move at the pace he needs." Angela responded coolly. She desperately hoped none of the gathered specialist heard the fear in her voice. It was true Leon worked best when given a certain independence and after they had first breached the facility he had gone chasing after the head research scientist while Angela and the team cleared out the BOWs. She hadn't heard from him in almost three hours, but she tried not to worry. "He's good at his job; he'll be fine."
"Hope so." One of the few women of her team put in as she flipped a brutal looking knife between her fingers. Angela wasn't fully positive on her background, but if the scars on her face were anything to go by, her skillset had been earned the hard way. The only thing she knew for sure was that she spoke with a distinct Eastern European accent, "He's got himself a fine arse. Wouldn't mind getting a hold of that."
"Better watch what you say around Miller." Laughed the CIA agent, "What I understand she already has dibs." Angela colored slightly; when on missions she and Leon kept it strictly, 100% professional. Their jobs were simply too important for so much as a stolen kiss or touch of the hands, let alone passionate romps in the supply closets. Still, to the trained eye, such as the ones every member of her team had been selected for having, it was fairly obvious in their manners that there was a relationship outside of work. It was obvious in the way their eyes locked when they spoke; on how their attention was trapped with each other. Angela couldn't really help it. When Leon spoke with at hard yet soothing voice, she was transfixed. Just as surely as Leon was when she spoke. It simply was.
"That true, top? You rocking Kennedy's world with those hips of yours?"
Angela gave the scarred woman a measured but seriously glare. She knew she had to maintain a professional attitude, but that another woman wanted her partner made her blood itch. "Just get outside. Pick-up is five minutes out."
The team picked up their gear and began to shuffle out. Though none voice it, each being considered suicidally brave, they were all too eager to leave the Neo-Umbrella facility. Charges set on loadbearings and structural weaknesses would be detonated once they were cleared, collapsing the entire facility on itself. The mysterious woman was the last out before Angela. She put a hand on her shoulder to stop her suddenly.
"Leon is mine." Angela whispered harshly, "Hands off if you know what's good for you." The other woman's brown eyes flashed in excitement for a moment, no doubt at the not so subtle threat Angela had offered. But then she calmed slightly and she nodded.
"Fine." She said tightly, "But if you fuck it up, he'll be under me in seconds." Before Angela would respond the woman strode away, a smirk of something approaching pride on her lips. Much as Angela hated herself for wanting to get bitchy with the woman, she knew it was strictly against the rules. Her operators, mostly Hunnigan if she was honest, looked the other way because she and Leon worked so well together. So long as they kept it together on missions, the fact they shared an apartment was ignored.
By the time Angela made her way out of the subterranean facility, their ride, an onyx black helicopter, had already landed and her team was already aboard. Angela stopped at the mouth of the service tunnel leading back to the facility and glanced at her watch. The demolition charges were set to go off soon and still no sign of Leon. Angela pulled the radio from her belt.
"Hunnigan, the Neo-Umbrella facility is rigged to blow in less than seven minutes and I've had no word from Agent Kennedy." She paused and took a deep breath, "Ingrid tell me he's not still in there."
+Agent Kennedy radioed in not two minutes ago. Dr. Wilson managed to escape through a back exit that wasn't on the blueprints. He's in pursuit.+ Angela let out a long breath and nodded.
"Okay. Does he need backup?"
+Negative. Proceed with the withdrawal.+ Hunnigan responded in a clipped, no-nonsense voice, +The sooner you and your team are out of there, the better. The President doesn't want any helicopters in sight when that place blows; they won't be able to write a convincing cover story.+
"Acknowledged." Angela said with a sigh, "I don't like leaving him alone Hunnigan."
+I know Angela.+ She could practically hear the reassuring smile in Hunnigan's voice, +But Leon's the best. He'll be fine and we'll send a pickup for him as soon as Dr. Wilson is apprehended.+ Angela hesitated for a moment. She and Leon had started this mission together and it felt wrong to end it without him. But orders were orders and their first rule was never to let the relationship jeopardize the mission. It pissed Angela off to no end and if she thought that Leon was desperately in danger she would have been after him in a heartbeat.
Angela boarded the helicopter with a soft sign, checking and reloading her assault rifle just in case. Their transport lifted off the ground with a jolt and rapidly began to eat up the ground rapidly as it gained speed. Angela kept her eyes locked on the mound the facility hid under for a long time. Then she felt the shockwave and heard the rumble. Her team fell silent, their mindless banter lost as they watched the landscape collapse in on itself, burying the Neo-Umbrella secrets forever. She glanced down at her radio and the blinking "0" under messages.
Angela closed her eyes and rested her head against the cold steel of the helicopter and silently prayed that Leon was okay.
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A full debriefing and eight hours later Angela paced back and forth in the living room of her modest apartment. Her mind raced and she tried desperately to calm her breathing. Leon had not called in by the time the team had arrived act their staging ground at Scott Air force base. She had been ready to commandeer another transport to search for her partner when her operators had ordered her return to DC. Hunnigan had offered the same reassuring words but Angela had barely listened. All she knew was that night had fallen on the isolated woods outside Chicago and that Leon had not radioed in. Given their line of work, that was enough to be worried.
After she had been debriefed and the team vowed to silence, Angela had camped outside the command room, waiting for any news. Ultimately it had been Hunnigan who gave her a cup of coffee and told her to go home. Angela wanted to protest, but she was aware how needy and desperate she must have looked. Still the gear she actually owned was spread out on the kitchen table, ready to be dawned the second the order came through. Angela glanced at the clock; the sun would be up soon and she scowled. This was exactly why she hated leaving a mission zone without Leon.
It felt wrong that she was in the safety of her home, her refuge for the horrors of Bio terrorism, and Leon wasn't. He was more than just a partner; he was her savior and protector. She couldn't place which came first, their partnership or their relationship. Both seemed to have started on the same night. Leon had showed up out of the blue, first with dinner reservations to the nicest restaurant in town and then half way during dinner a plane ticket and an interview offer in DC the following morning. It had been a simple choice for her then; stay with the SRT and the echoes of her dead teammates, or take Leon up on his offer. The night of passionate sex to alleviate the painful burning tension between them that followed had been purely a bonus. It wasn't until the third interview, which had been more of obstacle course than a dialogue, that Leon had vouched but not pressed for her. Their handlers and operators were not going to go easy on her simply because Leon had been impressed once and she happily rose to the challenge. It had been touching in a way; Leon respected her skills enough not to lower the par just so they could work together. She was held to the same standard Agent Kennedy, Ramsfield and Harper set. Her final do-or-die test has been a merciless scavenger hunt across the wilderness of northern Alaska with little more than the clothes on her back, a compass and a knife. Leon was supposed to have been one of the judges alongside the other agents, but he had been deployed on an urgent mission in the remains of the Eastern Slav republic.
The lock on her apartment door suddenly clicked open and Angela snapped out of her memories. She fixed the door with a hard stare and glanced quickly at the table to make sure her government issued WingClipper was nearby. The door open slowly and she let out the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding
"Leon!" She exclaimed and took off in a sprint. She collided with the man before he was fully in their apartment. Angela buried her face in his slim-cut brown leather jacket and took a deep breath. She had given it to him for his birthday and it simply smelled like him. Firm, strong arms embraced her and she felt all her pent-up tension bleeding away. He kissed her forehead and whispered something to her but she wasn't listening. Angela pulled away sharply and glared at him.
"You have about thirty seconds before I get angry and make you sleep on the couch for a week." She folded her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to one side, "Make it good."
Leon stared at her with a blank expression for a moment and she could see the gears grinding in his brain. Then he smiled that breathtakingly tight grin of his and Angela had to force her heart to stop racing. Leon had a naturally unsmiling face and at any given point he could only be described as grim. Angela knew better though. His true emotions were hidden in his eyes and when his lips actually reflected them, they she knew it was genuine. His grin was tight and controlled, but his eyes gazed at her lovingly; as if her voice was the coolest water to a desert ravaged traveler.
Leon held up his hand and Angela's eyes were drawn to bag he carried. "First I brought pasta from Romero's."
"They've been closed for hours." Angela countered, eyeing him.
"I called in a favor." Leon offered her the bag. Angela put on her best pouting face but snatched at it greedily.
"It's a start. Keeping going; twenty seconds." She said and turned to go to the kitchen. She gasped when Leon wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to her neck.
"Second, we both know you hate sleeping alone." He whispered in her ear. Angela tried not to shiver as the warmth of his breath brushed down her neck.
"Not good enough." She whispered back, "Keep trying."
"How about baring a national emergency, you and I have the next few days off?" Angela spun on her heel, her eyes wide in surprise.
"What?!" She nearly gasped, "How? The President nee-"
"The President, taking the advice of one Ingrid Hunnigan, is having Agents Blake and Harper on standby, giving all the other agents some break time." Leon said calmly, trying and failing to hide his grin. Angela took a moment to process all the information. Operating as she did in the Secret Service, she reported directly to the President. When he said she was on duty, she was. When he said take time off, she happily obeyed.
"I…" Angela looked down at her feet and broke out in a tired smile, "I was all set to be pissed at you all night. But now…how do you do that?" Leon cupped her face in his hands and Angela felt the rough, calloused texture of his skin.
"I'd be lying if I said half of it wasn't blind luck." He chuckle and Angela laughed with him.
"Such a charmer." She teased but then eyes him seriously, "But what happened Leon? Why did you miss the pick up?" Leon's eyes glazed over and he shook his head.
"The scientist, Wilson, he infected himself with a sample of the C-Virus so he couldn't be brought in for questioning. It mutated him into…something." Leon let out a sigh, "I don't know what he was. Spines and limbs and too many teeth."
"Why didn't you call for back up?!" She demanded, "I had eight operatives armed and ready to go! You could have been killed you idiot!"
"There wasn't any time Angela." Leon said softly. It was obvious he didn't want to fight and it pissed her off because she did. "I had to take him down. He was trying to make it to river. My guess is he was going to try to infect the ecosystem using his blood. I had an incendiary grenade…so…"
"You torched him." Angela finished solemnly and Leon nodded. Despite how upset she was, Angela endeavored to let it go for the night. She rested her head gently against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.
"I'm sorry I scared you." Leon whispered and kissed her, "But we can relax for a few days. I know its not perfect but-" Angela put a finger to his lips and gave him an amused grin.
"Leon, I have a job I can be proud of, an apartment that I can call home, and you came back safe and sound." Angela grinned, "And most importantly of all, you brought me food. If this isn't perfect then I don't know what is."
"Now look who's being a charmer." Leon said and she could see the adoration and happiness in his eyes.
"What can I say?" Angela said and strode away, putting an extra sway in her hips, "My boyfriend is so bad at it I have to pick up the slack." Leon snorted and shook his head in amusement. He followed her into their kitchen.
"Speaking of which," He said as he pulled two beers from their fridge and popped them open, "Any idea what you plan to do with this boyfriend of yours during your off time?"
He didn't expect Angela to wrench him into a fierce kiss. Her lips practically smashed against his and she eagerly snatched the drinks from his grasp and navigated his hands to her body; one to her hip, the other to her chest. In return Angela ran her fingers through his chestnut blonde hair and scratched ever so teasingly at his scalp. She felt Leon growl into her mouth and smiled. She bit and pulled at his lower lip until she was sure he would boil over with lust. When she finally broke the kiss for air, she pulled his head close and whispered two words into his ear before his lips took hers.
"Go diving."
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There you go. Short, sweet and I think relatively in-canon. And just so readers from my other stories are clear, no I'm not spending all my time writing Resident Evil fics. I'm actively writing the next chapter to my Mass Effect story and I hope to finish it up soon.
Hope you enjoyed reading this.