Lise awoke several fitful hours later alone again in the bed. Leon slowly came back into focus, moving efficiently around the room, quickly re-packing everything into one tiny bag. She sat up and glanced out the windows, the sky still dark with just the faintest tinge of pink light at the very horizon. Leon hadn't slept; he knew he likely wouldn't for the next day or so either, but they needed to get going and keep going before someone could connect the dots.
He had reported in with the Agency earlier, telling them he was on a lead, tracking down the missing sample. Having more than proven himself capable, the Agency was content to leave him up to his own devices for now. In the end, they didn't concern themselves with the means as long as the results were satisfactory, a fact he was counting on to keep their eyes off of him for a while.
"Rise and shine," he said, placing a plastic bag on the end of the bed. "As promised, your new clothes. I hope they fit alright; the sales girl was about your size so I just had her pick some things out."
"Thanks," she said groggily, rubbing her hands roughly over her face and stifling a yawn. She picked up the bag and was heading to the bathroom when Leon stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"There's still one more thing," he said, bracing himself. He hoped that her half-conscious state of mind would help soften the blow, or possibly her ability to rain blows down upon him. She quirked a groggy eyebrow at him, "your hair - it's too recognizable." She stared at him blankly, almost challenging him to continue this train of thought. "There's a pair of scissors and a box of dye in the bag."
"No way cowboy," she said, pulling the scissors out of the bag and pushing them at him, "you want it gone so badly, you can do it yourself," Lise lead the way into the bathroom and plunked herself down on the toilet, arms crossed. She knew it was childish to act this way, especially in light of their current circumstance, but it seemed to be giving up one last hold on her former life, one less path through which to return to the real world. Her hair, having just been washed a few hours before, looked glossy and soft even in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. Leon groaned inwardly; he had always had a thing for redheads and this was going to be torture. He grabbed a handful of the silky locks, and almost cringed as he snipped them off above her shoulder. She kept her eyes open and resentful the entire time as he worked as deftly as he could, trying his best not to make things too asymmetrical. Finally she reached out her hand, saying quietly,
"I can finish it from here," she looked up at him from the ruins of her pride and joy, her expression beaten. Leon started to speak but she held up a hand, "just go".
Forty-five minutes later she re-emerged and Leon had to admit, she still cleaned up nicely. She'd managed to undo some of the butchery he'd committed and had added a blunt fringe which disrupted the shape of her face nicely. The effect of the black dye was startling, especially when it was still so fresh and bold. The simple jeans, t-shirt and jacket also added to the illusion of youth while the over-large sunglasses perched on top of her head would help disguise most of her face.
"I feel like I'm fifteen again," she groaned, handing him back the scissors, "excuse me while I go cut myself in my parents' basement."
"You look fine," he soothed, handing her a length of cloth, "I got this for your neck." The red welts on her neck had faded to bruises overnight and he knew they would be incriminating for him if they were traveling together. She unfurled the scarf, running the fine fabric, a dark blue shot through with threads of silver, through her fingers before wrapping it artfully around her neck.
"Thank you, it's lovely," she smiled genuinely for what seemed like years and Leon felt a sense of relief wash over him. Their relationship thus far had been somewhat rocky and very unusual – terrorist attacks, guns, desperate physical contact, and porno jokes – but they were going to be spending a considerable amount of time together in close quarters so things needed to at least be comfortable between them.
Although the rest of her clothes, aside from underwear, had been picked up cheaply at a run of the mill chain store, the scarf had been something Leon had purchased separately, deliberately, as a peace offering. He was more than glad it had been successful.
"So where do we go now?" she asked, pulling the jacket tighter around herself.
"We need to get out of the country, off the continent" he answered, handing her a bag to carry the sample in, "we'll get to England and hide out for a while until my contacts can set things up." France had been an option but was too close to Umbrella's former Headquarters for comfort. She nodded and settled the bag over her shoulder as he held the door open, ushering her out the door into the unknown.