The Descent
One of Five:
-Executioner-
Raccoon City
The car curled through the dark like a jungle cat. It purred, pulling its weight around corners in a way that left you breathless with excitement because it was being driven by hands that knew how to milk it, how to coax it, and how to caress every drop of speed and stealth out of the beauty of it. It was, after all, being driven by a master.
The man behind the wheel was cast in the flicker of passing headlights. Gorgeous; a face carved by angels and demons to taunt and tempt and redeem the woman who chose to love the man attached to it. The body beneath made the woman beside him aware of the presence of a god. There had to be one, she had no doubt...because that god had made Leon Kennedy.
Claire's hand slid over his hand on the gear shift, feeling it roll each motion so smoothly you never even felt the car change them. He manipulated the car like he manipulated his enemies - a smooth gesture with very little flair. The car was black on black, as monochrome as they came, and a classic Shelby. It was as unique as he was, a brilliant masterpiece of creation that was often over looked by the flashier models available today.
Claire never over looked him. Claire adored him. She suspected he was going to propose tonight. She wasn't sure how she knew - intuition or female instinct- but he'd been even more quiet than usual at dinner as if he was gearing up for something.
She followed him up the stairs to the little house they shared and couldn't stop from teasing him, "...you swallow your tongue with that last glass of whiskey?"
With a chuckle, he hung up his leather jacket on a hook by the door. She did the same with her denim one. As she started to turn away, he caught her and pulled her in to kiss her. Smooth, slick, sexy and soothing somehow in a single stroke of lips and tongue. That was Leon - he was always one kiss away from you dropping your panties to let him do the same to the rest of you.
The soft white sweater she wore brushed his chest as her nipples peaked behind it, brushing him with excitement as they dueled for control of his mouth. After a handful of moments, she gave up the fight to find out what he was thinking and let him take her to bed. There he managed to coax her like his car - making her purr and moan, groan and gasp, cry and cum. She rode him to the finish, his arms wrapped around her back, her face buried in his neck as the sweat on their skin made their bodies slippery.
There were things she wanted to tell him herself. She wanted to tell him about the documents she'd found on Simmons computer that morning. She wanted to tell him about the download she'd been prompted to make that sent them to her office at TerraSave. She wanted to tell him it looked like Derek Simmons was in bed with a black market arms dealer named Glenn Arias. From what she could find, he'd wired three huge deposits to an account under a false name for Arias and a dumbie corporation.
What was he buying?
Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
Claire wanted to tell him about the possibility that the National Security Advisor was a dirty terrorist. She wanted to say that, but she just kept gasping his name instead. It was hard, sometimes, to be around Leon and keep her hands to herself. The need to touch him was like standing beside a unicorn and not trying to get a ride. She'd caved the first time he'd asked her. She'd given in the first time he'd taken her to bed (she wasn't generally a first date kind of gal, but he'd invited her to bed and she'd just...said yes). She was enamored of him in a way that left her constantly wishing she could keep him.
He seemed to feel the same way about her based on how he was always in her pants or her mouth or her body. He was always inside her...it was almost like being addicted to drugs. She simply couldn't get enough of Leon.
While he dozed on the bed, Claire rolled off and looped her sweater back over her head. She pulled on her panties and told him, "...I have something to show you."
He rolled to his elbow and remarked, "...me too. Who goes first?"
Claire smiled, shaking her head, "Mines down in the car...so you?"
He grinned, "...mines hidden. You have to find it."
Her brows winged up and she laughed, "You hid it? What is it? A bomb?"
He gave her a droll look.
"...ooook. A puppy!?"
He laughed now, "Who hides a puppy? What if we took longer to fuck and forgot about it?"
Claire chuckled and watched him slip on a pair of jeans. No underwear, no reason anyway, as they were going to end up right back here in this bed anyway. She bounced down the stairs with him behind her.
"Guess again," He prompted, feeling on her butt and making her laugh as they rounded the curve in the stairs to the foyer.
"...a big fat engagement ring?"
Oh, she loved this moment. His face froze. He tilted his head and looked less than impressed, "...who squealed?"
Claire laughed. She grinned and threw herself against him to hug. He grabbed her ass again and had her slapping his hands as they separated, "...pervert. Keep 'em where I can see 'em."
He lifted his hands up and she told him, "I'm gonna find that ring."
She looked everywhere she could think of. She tore apart drawers and had him laughing. She dug through the garbage. She looked under the couch. She checked inside the fish tank. She looked everywhere obscure or weird. She glanced under the cabinets in the kitchen.
After twenty minutes, she admitted defeat, "...give me the ring, smart guy."
He pulled it from the pocket of his jeans and had her laughing. She slapped his chest, she got teary eyed, and she said yes. It wasn't complicated. It was so easy. This was so easy.
She hated to ruin the mood, but she wanted his opinion on things. So, she sighed with love over her beautiful ring and told him, "...I have a couple things to tell you...let me start with what I found out today."
She let go of him and hurried toward the front door, calling over her shoulder, "I gotta run down to my car and grab the file. What do you know about Simmons?"
Surprised, Leon followed her as she opened the door to the dark of the night beyond, "...not much. Adam regards him as a long time friend. Why? Is this about Simmons?"
The confusion on him was the same as she felt. She was hoping she was wrong, she really was, because Simmons being dirty meant god knew how many other people ass deep in the agency were dirty as well. The President was at risk, right this second, if his man Advisor was a traitor.
She wanted to rejoice in her engagement, but she didn't want to let this go by without Leon getting involved. He'd know what to do about it all. She was, after all, just a humanitarian director for a relief organization. She wasn't a warrior. That wasn't her job. She wasn't a girl who chased the fight - she beat its ass if she came up against it of course - but she didn't chase it.
She needed Leon to chase it like the blood hound he was.
So, she replied, "I'll show you...maybe you can make sense out of it." The screen door squeaked as she opened it, giving him a flirty look from beneath the fox red fall of her lashes, "...then maybe we can celebrate this really, really, really big rock on my finger."
"Maybe I'll give you a pearl necklace to match that diamond ring there."
She gave him a droll look and returned, "...you're lucky you're my guy, Kennedy. Because you're also a disgusting lech."
"You love me."
Her eyes sparkled, "...I better at this point."
"Yeah? Why?"
Claire shook her head, "...that's later. Kiss me and let me run down to my car before I forget again and mount you right here like a wild stallion."
Leon laughed as his hand came up to cup her face. He drew her in to press a kiss to her mouth.
Out in the dark someone shouted, "Redfield!"
He let go of her. Claire turned toward the shout still smiling from their kiss.
And his world exploded around him.
There was the heavy boom of a shotgun. He shouted and grabbed for his weapon that was still upstairs in the bedroom. Claire was thrown backward toward him and he caught her against his chest, dragging her madly into the house. He kicked the door shut and went to his knees, dragging her out of the view of windows.
She was gasping, her chest and belly was raw and weeping, red from buckshot at close range. She was crying, blood pouring from her mouth and nose. Terror turned his voice high and desperate, "Baby! Oh god...oh my god...hold on...hold for me! Hold on!"
She gurgled, grabbing for his hands. She pressed one to her cheek. She pressed one to her belly.
He whispered brokenly, "...you're my girl, Claire."
And she stopped breathing.
Her gaze fixed and dilated.
Her hands slid off his to flop on the floor. His slid through her blood and lifted to cover his face. It smelled like copper in their pretty little house. Her beautiful ring was red and wet and ruined.
His body hunched over her where she lay, collecting her against him to hold as he rocked, rocked, rocked...and wept harshly in the soft glow of the fish tank beside him.
Post Note: This is a short story about conspiracy, redemption, death and revenge. It's five parts and fast paced. It's also a ton of grief and sore subject matter - drinking, depression, suicidal thinking and violent death. It is definitely not soft or sweet and there is no happy ending.