It will be an interesting challenge to see if I can pick up from where I left off over TEN years ago when I first started writing this story. I look forward to seeing if I can remain dedicated to my review and rewrite of the chapters I have already finished. Maybe I will fall back in love with my story like many of my readers already have.

-Luky

Chapter Two:

Unwilling Emotion

He was exhausted.

Even as the sun beat against his back he felt it- to the very core of his bones. Exhaustion. His hands gripped the handle bars of the Jet Ski as tight as he possibly could in order to maintain the machine in the rocky Atlantic waters. Water had been spraying against his face and caused his lips to chap and bleed- and his arms were dried from the salt and from the lack of hydration and none of that helped his current state. With the sun sucking all his energy from him, he was pulling in all his last reserves so he could get them home. He had to reach the Spanish coastline and get Ashley to safety.

He'd been going for so long at a constant pace that it seemed he hadn't paused for a moment to take a deep breath in days. His arms ached with each movement and his hands hurt from clutching the handles of the Jet Ski as hard as he had been. If it wasn't for the fact that he had an immeasurable amount of stamina, he'd have given up long ago when options had seemed less available and outcomes more bleak. But it didn't work that way. Now that he was so close to accomplishing his goal he wouldn't give in.

He was going to have to hold on until he could reach the agency and give them Ashley- and then maybe then he'd get to rest. For the first time he felt comfortable with the idea of not having to fire his gun. If he had it his way, he wouldn't be hearing the sound of gunfire for quite some time although he wouldn't hesitate to use his now if necessary. Then again, the likelihood that he'd actually get a "rest" was laughable. Coming this close to shore he felt the first inkling of uncertainty.

'Rest… yeah right.' he thought morbidly as he faintly recalled what "rest" he'd gotten after he'd escaped Raccoon City. If you call being stuck in a tiny cell for three months without any human interaction other than to tell you when you haven't pissed enough or when not to do things, rest. He knew damn well what awaited him at the end of this adventure. A quick plane flight and a shit load of free time in scrubs.

His profession called it "voluntary" but it was really an "occupational hazard". Quarantine was not something you willingly went into unless you had to do it. After his first trip to the quarantine facility outside of Raccoon City he began to have a new-found appreciate for the animals that were pent up in cages in animal facilities awaiting health clearance. After his first week he thought the time would never end. Having to stay in a small enclosed space for any length of time can drive you nuts, even with discipline.

He would have given up long before many things happened if it hadn't been for the fact that what he had just escaped was a nightmare of its own—that paired with his insatiable sense off duty. He always completed his objectives and lived to serve the greater population of people. After all the carnage he had witnessed in Raccoon city it was miraculous he hadn't already lost his mind before sticking him into an unfeeling, cold box to rot for over three months. He had no idea that this occasion would be presenting itself again for the rest of his life and now that it seemed to be the worst of his problems he felt better although still not looking forward to it.

He hadn't expected to be doing this kind of mission when he took the job as watchdog for the president's daughter, then just a face in a picture. He had always wanted to protect other people and it had been an unlucky circumstance that had landed him the job of babysitter for what he thought was going to be a drunken college party marathon and protection from the press. He hadn't expected to be dealing with anything like the las plagas and Ashley herself had far exceeded his expectations of her as a person. He hadn't thought anyone would care to even attempt to use the president's daughter against the nation—who does that?

Hell, he hadn't exactly wanted the job but an unfortunate bet on his part made him lose his opportunity to protect the president himself- instead he was positively delighted to be babysitting although it hadn't turned out like that in the end. He'd been protecting someone who wasn't a military official and that was a big step up from what he'd been dealing with. While in Spain, protecting Ashley had given him a reason to keep going through all the things they had to deal with and all the horrors they had seen, even if she was could be frustrating in more ways than one.

Not that she was always frustrating him.

In fact, she'd proven more than once how strong she could be by helping him in ways he hadn't thought would be possible from a prissy little princess like he'd imagined her to be. Cute blond college girl handling things like she had? He hadn't really done a lot of research into her character before he'd been given the mission. In fact the only thing he'd really known about her was what he'd seen of her on the television while she was campaigning with her father and stepmother and even that was extremely limited and not very memorable. He almost hadn't wanted to take the mission because it was a woman job but for certain reasons that he hated himself for, he had been forced to take it anyway.

But she hadn't been too bad in the face of adversity. She'd even shot a gun at an infested towns-person who was attacking them on a few occasions- and didn't miss, which was a great surprise to him. It wasn't likely that she would be running to any target practice but if she chose to, she could probably shoot for center mass and make a hit. He'd been surprised with her history with weapons that she had been willing to pick up a gun at all let alone fire it. From the limited knowledge of her childhood- he knew both she and her father had firm gun control beliefs.

Not to mention, the fact that she hadn't gone insane or completely hysterical (although she did come close at some points) spoke volumes about what kind of strength she had over the things they had faced. He hardly expected her to be a little warrior despite the fact that a guy could dream. For that he had Ada.

He remembered the deep pain he had seen in her big wide eyes throughout their horrific time together. He wanted to look away but after everything she'd gone through, the twitch in his heart at her look told him she needed all the positive support she could get. They both needed it. He was all too willing to take that much from her.

And after everything he'd gone through personally in the past, not to mention training- he wasn't going to back down to the look of despair from the eyes of one girl, never mind how much his own soul begged to be consumed right along with her. He wasn't willing to sacrifice the mission or his life by giving in to his hopelessness or by sacrificing his objectivity and for a stirring in the nether region. And he had been stirred, even despite their circumstances and condition.

Especially when he knew he hadn't had a shower in several days, save for a few dunks in a murky lake with god knows what in it- and neither had she. It wasn't exactly conducive to love making to be covered in mud and grime- unless that was your thing… And he wasn't about to take advantage of Ashley… that wasn't going to help him have a job when they got out of this mess. At least that's what he told himself when the stress and drive seemed to almost overwhelm him.

But he couldn't really stay objective towards her or their situation even as he fought himself over it. They had truly bonded in his moments of weakness and strength and while he still had to protect her, he remembered how his heart had seized in a strange sort of desperation when she was captured- every shriek she had made had taken his mind of the task and filled him with emotions that were dangerous in a mission such as this. He had felt his breath catch watching a las plagas burst from the neck of a man, and reach its bloody, razor sharp hands towards her.

Fear. Cold and instant had struck him. He'd gotten close to her… so close that even he knew just how far he'd breached his levels of objectivity. He didn't want to think about it and thank God Ashley hadn't been in any condition to know much of anything. Although he doubted he'd get out of this without a nightmare or two of his own…

She seemed to strike him each time she was in his presence. Even Luis going towards her had unleashed a sort of fierce protectiveness that he recognized as very dangerous but was unable to turn off. It wasn't an emotion; it was a reaction to her and her safety. It was animalistic. At least that is what he told himself every time something like that happened. He chalked it up to instinct, instinct to protect and to complete his mission, but secretly he knew it had to be more than that. He was simply unwilling to accept it even thought it was obvious by his actions just how smitten he really was.

A swirl of emotion bubbled in his chest as he felt her arms re-position around his back and tighten weakly against his sore stomach. He felt the pressure of her face as she laid her cheek weakly against him and if it wasn't for the fact he knew better, he might have thought she had fallen asleep against him. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd fallen asleep like that but he didn't like to think about those moments… not now. It was too uncomfortable.

She had to be exhausted. She had done so well despite everything and he didn't mind how she had been bossy with other people and with himself. He couldn't hold her attitude against her when he considered everything she had been exposed to. They had both been tired, exhausted, and she had only had a few moments of weakness that were memorable and stood out. Only a few of them had tempted even him to have doubts about the future outcome.

When she had freaked out over the blood on her hand was a good example of one of those situations. That had sucked. He was genuinely concerned for her as he reached for her, a little bit of his emotions getting the best of him only for her to react like he'd bitten her and run away. Then when she'd gotten trapped it was so sudden that it almost seemed surreal. She'd disappeared from sight and he could only shout after her, a little angry at their circumstances but none the less, committed to finding her again.

It was no wonder she was the daughter of the man who'd basically won over an entire nation in an election. It had been the first election in years that the American people were able to actually vote for someone they liked versus voting for the lesser of two "evils". The democratic runner had no chance against him and it was easy to see that some of that obvious charm was present in his daughter- even if she didn't look a thing like the man.

She certainly blown his expectations of her being a snobby, prissy little rich girl who was the talk of the locker rooms at her college out of the water. He found her to be a cute and smart young woman and oddly innocent sometimes. She seemed somewhat coy, or demure. She was simple yet oddly fascinating. It was a good thing considering without the drive to save this one girl he might not have struggled so hard for life…

But what amazed him most was her ability to assist him and follow directions. She seemed like a normal, everyday girl and when things got tough she buckled down. Unlike many other people he'd worked with in the past and other people he'd protected, he hadn't had any person who was as thoughtful or helpful as she had been. If he told her to hide, she hid. If he told her to run, she ran, although not very fast but he couldn't blame her since they'd been running on empty for several days. She helped him and in return he helped her. The worked like a team at times to get out of sticky situations and to solve problems. With her collaboration they got through some sticky situations that he might have taken too long to solve.

She wasn't perfect by any means. Sometimes she'd followed him even when he'd told her to stay behind which made his job harder because sometimes it was just easier to be watching one back instead of two. He had a good instinct and whenever he felt like he was coming up to a danger that would be hard to maneuver with two of them he asked her to stay behind. She'd also helped him out many times when it was definitely a two person job, although she was generally slow moving and slow to start. They both were after several days without good nutrition or a lot of water.

He remembered the first time she had done anything that had been truly, truly helpful…

'Leon!' she had cried, running to his side as he shut the heavy oak door, locking the las plagas in the other chamber. There was nothing to latch the door closed so he had to find something to brace it as fast as possible! He searched frantically for something, anything to keep it wedged shut!

"Ashley, find something to brace the door!" Leon cried as he felt a force pushing against his back. He bore down with all his might, his legs shaking with effort as his feet slid on the dirt covered stone. He watched her turn, her blond hair flying in every direction as she stumbled around the room clumsily.

"Hurry Ashley… Hurry!" he grunted, clenching his eyes shut. He felt the door start to slip forward and he gave a cry of encouragement just as she released a shout of surprise and relief. His eyes quickly sprang in the direction she did and saw the huge log she had found on the floor covered in bloody sheets and empty barrels. Seeing it, he knew that she wasn't going to be able to lift it over the door to lock it in place. He cursed the frenzied sprint that had caused them to run to this particular room.

"Leon!" she cried as she scrambled on top of the pile of junk and gave a cry as the splintered wood sank into her delicate hands. Hands he knew would otherwise be soft and not covered in dirt and blood. He tried to answer back to her but his body was focused entirely on keeping the door as shut as possible. He watched as she threw things to either side, finally unearthing the massive log and, grabbing it with both hands under her arm, started to drag it towards him on trembling legs.

She had come up to his side and with relief he watched her drop the log right before the outstretched arms of the las plagas. The sound of the log hitting the ground echoed through the room and time seemed to stand still as she just looked on into the squirming mass seeping through the door, her eyes lowered and an intensity burning there that almost stopped his breath.

Her hands, so small and delicate were at her side, her fingers splayed in the effort to catch her breath and her chest rose and fell quickly, trying to earn a little extra energy with each ragged rush of air. In his mind, he had been screaming for her to move forward- but she was just a normal girl. Just a girl. She wasn't Ada. She couldn't protect herself. She needed his protection. She wasn't strong yet she needed him just as much as he needed her.

In the moment before she started kicking the las plagas limbs outstretched from the door, trying to get them out of the way so they could slam the door shut, he realized that the only thing stopping him from dropping down and letting the monsters swarm inside was the fact that she wanted to live too- she needed him and because of it, it gave him a reason to give his all- a reason to stomach the monster growing inside himself. It was a small comfort in this disgusting, wretched world to know that he wasn't alone. She must have felt the same.

But just because they shared a strange, unknown bond, didn't mean that he would have the opportunity to explore that difference, that bond. As the door slammed shut he turned quickly and with her help they heaved the heavy wood branch up and onto the doors open hooks, securely looking it in place with a thunderous bang.

He put his hands against the door and gasped for breath and watched as Ashley's hands, which still gripped the wooden frame, started to slide with her body to the floor until she was on her knees, shaking and wheezing. They turned and looked at each other and the tears in her eyes didn't seem like that of a coward, but of a brave girl, who had just done more than half the girls her age would have in the same situation.

"I guess this was the right door after all…" she said, and forced a shaky smile on her dry lips, a few tears streaming down her face leaving dirt streaks in their wake. He couldn't speak as he looked over at her, a new respect brewing for her in his heart. As hard as he fought it, he couldn't deny that something was there in his heart for this stubborn girl, something he didn't understand yet…

Whether it was the pest that was growing inside them or simply the circumstances surrounding why they were together, they both were changing, even if neither of them realized it yet. It was obvious that this was something neither of them had expected of their future but it was certainly their reality- and they had to get out of this… hell… before either of them could begin to understand the feelings and emotions that had brewed and spewed forth from between them.

"Good Job, Ashley…"

There was of course the fact that they were heading towards foreign soil at this point. The thought of arriving with normal beach goers was such a wonderful feeling he wondered if he'd ever want to leave the sand. When they got home there was going to be a lot of questions and a lot of interrogation and he wasn't looking forward to it. He had wanted to prep Ashley for it on the ride home but they had been stunned to silence with Ashley's question of "overtime" that he really hadn't wanted to talk about much of anything.

His first thought was that she had meant sex and that had caught him off guard. He wasn't going to lie to himself and say he hadn't thought about it while they were together. That acknowledgement gave him a twinge of shame that he ruthlessly stuff away again. Now that they were so close to getting to safety and out of this mess there was no room for such things.

When she had spoken about overtime he hadn't known what to say, he was in shock, and he scoffed to keep from choking from surprise at what she had suddenly implied. "Sorry" came out even before his brain had fully finished processing what had happened and he cringed at how callous he sounded. The choice, considering their positions, was obvious and it was a shock to think that's what she could have possibly meant. What did she mean by that? Surely she hadn't meant sex but if she had didn't she know that was so beyond the realm of appropriate between them?

He had been tempted. When any moment could be your last moment alive and every corner was an adrenaline fueling mystery it was hard not to be caught up in strong, powerful urges to survive. The instinct to live was overwhelming to a welcome degree and with it came some twisted form of passion. At least that's how he explained why he had found her so alluring while they were on the run. There was something like gravity that pulled him into making jokes, teasing and thinking—always thinking—about the possibility. He was in a position of authority and he could have taken advantage at any point during their struggles and who knows what could have happened. He doubted she would have been unwilling. It was his duty to protect her from all dangers and bring her home safe and in one piece. If he had let his rigid self-control slip further than it already had he could have made a serious mistake that might have jeopardized their lives, never mind his objectivity.

That was another part of it; if they slept together who was to say that she would be psychologically capable of handling it? He had no concept of what she had endured, what kind of trauma she experienced when they had been separated. Whatever emotions she had for him were spawned directly from the situation she was caught up in and not part of a thought process that would allow her to consider sex with him in any logical sense. At what point were either of them capable of deciding what more they could take before the mental strain caused them to snap. Adding a level of physicality to their tense relationship could damage things in Ashley that couldn't be seen and then where would they have been?

It had been close many, many times and he regretted each of those times.

It wasn't easy to detach every time when he caught her or had a moment to admire her physical strength. She wasn't dressed for combat and sometimes the way her ragged skirt teased the tops of her thighs would cause his concentration to slip. At nights when they were unbearably close and contained he was left with nothing but his thoughts for company and would find himself staring a hole into the wall to keep from letting his mind wander where it shouldn't.

He hadn't been the only one thinking about it apparently. There were nights when she was weak, compliant and welcoming where he did his best to tuck her in and maintain his distance. Sometimes he would just watch her chest rise and fall as she slept as he sat a little away from her. On other nights when it was too cold they would lay together to share the heat and he made sure to keep all of his focus on staying alert to the sounds outside and tried not to focus on the warm body pressing against his. He found it kind of cute that she slept with her mouth slightly open softly snoring. He also discovered what a bed hog she was, something that was a surprisingly intimate thing to know about a girl he had only known for a few weeks.

He had definitely been thinking about her in ways he shouldn't have, especially considering it was his mission to protect her from anything and anyone. She was delicate, she wasn't someone like Ada who seemed almost invincible. She was sensitive and innocent. She would look up at him with those wide eyes in moments where fear was almost always etched and he'd feel lust spear him uncontrollably. It was instinct, he told himself, that made him want to devour those trembling lips in a frenzy. It was adrenaline that made him want to tear at their clothing when they were apparently safe but unable to relax and ease the tension.

He did touch her at times such as on a few occasions to linger his hand along her back or to hold her close after catching her from a fall for just a moment. Sometimes he would run his hand across her face roughly to smear dirt and grime away and other times it was just to push back the unruly knotted hair that was hanging limply in her face. When she would weep sometimes he felt the urge to wrap his arms around her in comfort. It was awkward at times and natural at others. It was the most complex feeling he'd ever had for someone before.

There could be no overtime between them, whatever she had meant by that. He knew that his duty, his mission, would be completely contradicted if he did anything like that. He refused the offer and intended to keep it that way. Things were going to change quickly when they got on the beach—he would have a short time to escort her to a safe location and then it would be time for them to be separated. It didn't help his conviction when her hands were wrapped securely around him, her fingertips just barely touching over the width of his chest.

"Land!" he cried out hoarsely as he suddenly spotted what looked like the gentle sway of the beach shoreline. As they got closer he could see the faint lines of colors, beach towels and bodies sprawled out in a multitude of shapes and sizes. His eyes blurred from the glare of the sun on the water, but he could still see the lines. He heard her heave a heavy sigh as she lifted her head slightly from his back.

They hadn't talked on the ride here, better to preserve whatever remaining strength they had at this point, and he had been lost in his thoughts anyway. Now that they were close to land the thought that they would soon be separated and the mission would at last be complete snuck in. Mission accomplished? Not yet but almost. Then he'd immediately get the hell away from her and save himself the mental and physical agony of being so close to her. No more need to worry about another woman being kept safe, he'd actually done it. They had made it.

But getting away would be the healthiest thing he could possibly do for the both of them. He had a lot of unanswered questions that he wanted to investigate not to mention he had to deal with the rebirth of the dead woman from his dreams- Ada. She had survived the fall- how? How did she survive that kind of fall? What was she doing in Spain and was she involved in Ashley's kidnapping? Why did she want that sample of the virus?

Plus… it was Ada that captivated him and it was Ada that he longed for more than anything. That woman… who seemed a part of him that he could never just save- he never could save her, she seemed to always be doing the saving. But it hadn't always been so. He thought she was dead and he'd already locked those feelings away since that time in Raccoon city. He kept her memory with him, it was the only thing he had taken away from that hell.

'She's like a part of me I can't let go of…'

She was a part of his dreams for years after the incident. She was the one who he yearned to save but never could. No matter what in his nightmare she was always falling to her death. He never could save her. But he could save Ashley. He was going to do that and then he'd redouble his efforts on his elusive companion from the past. This woman that was such an enigma that she seemed more like a ghost fading into the mist- appearing under strange and peculiar situations. She didn't seem real. Maybe because his memories of her were so limited and the only thing he clearly remembered about her was the way she had "died".

As the Jet Ski crashed onto along the shallow waters of the beach, onlookers screamed and yelled in a foreign language, standing and pointing, their hands rose to their faces to see what the commotion was. It was a good thing that they were both mostly cleaned off by the water… at least he was. As he jumped off the Jet Ski he automatically turned out of habit to help her down. Before he could reach out and stead her the Jet Ski tipped forward as she started to fall.

He reached out to steady her gripping her arms and feeling the first tendril of uncertainty curl inside his stomach at how hot she felt even considering they had been out in the sun for over an hour. She felt small, thin and looked ragged, the ocean current lapping against her slender calves causing her to sway. Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his and he was taken aback by the tears and look of anger in her eyes.

He was expecting her to be happy and maybe she was glad to be on safe soil but the tears in her eyes spoke of pain and an angry sadness. He felt an instant burning sensation at the back of his throat as he swatted his hand away weakly. He could only stare down at her, his bangs blowing into his eyes as she pressed her hand against her chest between the valley of her breasts, trying to gain her balance in the rocking waters.

"I don't need your help anymore, Leon. I'll be fine from here on out." she said shakily as she turned and tried to walk away. The words stung him like a slap in the face not because he wasn't glad that she was safe but because of the flippant way she seemed to wave him off. As if he was no good to her anymore and that she didn't want his help now that they were safe. She didn't need him anymore, that was fine- but what about him, did he need her? She needed him, damn it- what was she thinking?

'I want you to need me!' he thought wildly, a fierce sort of hopelessness swarming him as he watched her try to walk away. Her obvious attempt at indifference wasn't phasing him. She damn well cared after all they had been through. Did this have to do with his response to her offer to go to bed with her? That thought brought a bit of clarity back and he felt his own temper flare.

"Like hell you are! Look at you, you can barely walk!" he yelled, not realizing the intensity of his voice as he reached out and grabbed her roughly by the hand. It was a mistake and he realized it instantly as she turned and seemed to melt at his touch, electricity sparking from his finger tips to sear at his heart and his gut. Tears unlike those she had shed from fear were sliding down her face as she looked up at him, confusion written over her features.

He reached up with his other arm, forgetting the Jet Ski entirely and the people who were creeping closer, and wrapped his arm around the curve of her back, pulling her close to him to steady her- his hand still holding hers against his chest. Her body was warm to the touch and until now he hadn't even thought about how she had been holding up today- just getting her out alive was the goal. He regretted not acknowledging the horrible things that had happened to her and how brave she had been. Thinking about all she had endured made him sick.

"Is it… real..?" she whispered, her voice pathetically low. She sounded like a girl and felt so very small in his arms.

She looked up into his face, her eyes shaking and for a horrible instant he was terrified of what he would see reflected in them- but all he saw was her eyes focusing and un-focusing on his face. Despite the heat of the day, her skin was oddly flushed. Her lips trembled and she shuddered. He knew she was going to pass out but she seemed to want to say something. He leaned in closer to her face and her eyes widened, more tears escaping her eyes as she mumbled thoughtlessly in his ear.

And just like that, she passed out.

REVIEW!

Edit: 7/3/2008

Edit: 1/6/2015

I am looking for a beta reader to help ease some of the burden of making sure everything is super, ultra-polished which will encourage me to write. I'd love to hear from some fellow authors if they were interested. Please send me a message! Thank you!

-Luky