Chapter Sixteen:
WARNING: Romantic swill ahead. If that's A-OK with you, proceed. Do not surpass 75 mph, I am not responsible if you get whiplash. :) :) :) Don't laugh, I was having a romantic movie marathon while writing this.
Leon squinted as he looked out over the hills, the rain drenching him to the bone and blocking his vision so that he could barely see two feet in front of his face. It was a few hours after the confrontation with Steve and in that time he had managed to drive as far as a quarter tank of gas would allow. The drive had been refreshing and the rain was now beating down on him hard, but he was still bristling from all that had happened. He saw now that maybe he should have killed Steve when he had the chance…
After he had pounded Steve's face in, the little shit had gone into the main office and made a scene. He said Leon had flown into an angry rage and took it out on the first available person that came along. As lame as his story was, evidence was in his favor. He was bloodied up really bad and Leon was the only person who could have done it. Keith Harper had looked at Leon with a shocked expression and had stammered when he asked him to join him in the office (after letting Steve go, free of charge and promising a lifetime of free service).
Leon's heart was pounding and his breakfast was swirling in his stomach as he sat down in the black leather chair. When prodded repeatedly for an explanation, Leon hesitated. If he told about Steve, he'd have to explain about Claire, and that was none of Harper's damn business. He wasn't going to use Claire like that; her honor meant much more to him than his job.
When Leon didn't volunteer any elucidation for his actions, Keith sighed.
"Well, uh, Leon…it's obvious that you—you're under a lot of stress around here…" he struggled, trying to find the right words. "Take a break for a while—we'll call you."
That 'we'll call you' sounded an awful lot like 'good bye', but it was one of the nicest ways Leon had ever been laid off of a job. In a surreal way.
What a day. He'd gotten rejected, gotten revenge and lost his job—life was full of shit. Feeling a lot like it, he mounted his motorcycle and started off just as a clap of thunder sounded. He rode seven miles in the pouring rain and slippery road with old ladies in 4X4s flicking him off with their nine-year-old grandchildren writing cuss words on the steaming windows at him. Okay, so he was being dramatic, but it was a thought that crossed his mind and made him smile in spite of himself. An eight-five miles per hour pen pal…
He finally reached Chris' subdivision and turned into Tesoro Circle, where his house was stood. Parking in the free-standing garage, he noticed that Claire was already home, the living room was brightly lit and had a warm glow to it. His feet were anxious to get inside, out of the freezing rain and into the warm heated house, but his mind and heart hesitated. Was he really ready to face Claire just yet?
After five minutes of standing in the rain like an idiot, he threw his pride away and stomped up the porch. Opening the door, he stepped inside and was greeted by the promised heat and the smell of something delicious in the kitchen. Taking his jacket and boots off, he put them on the side and tried to shake some of the water off, even though he was hopelessly sodden.
"Leon?" Claire called from the hallway.
"Uh, yeah?" he asked, managing to wring out a few droplets from his hair. Futile.
"Great, I'm glad you're here, because I rented…" she rounded the corner and trailed off when she saw him. "…John Q…but I guess you're a little tired of watching movies, huh?"
Leon shook his head, spraying her with some water which she playfully swiped away. "No, not at all. Movies are great."
He was surprised to see how relaxed she looked; there was a bounce in her step, a pink tinge to her cheeks and her eyes were lit by a harmony he hadn't seen in a while. The lighting must be playing tricks on his eyes…
"You look awful." She declared. "What happened?"
Leon looked down at his wet clothes then back up at her with an are-you-kidding expression. "Isn't it obvious?" he then added slyly. "I went chubby-dipping—it's kind of like skinny-dipping, only you leave your clothes on."
Claire laughed, not amused. "You're a real comedian, I mean these." She said, brushing his cheek and eye. To his surprise, he shrunk back as it stung faintly. "You're a little bruised."
Stepping back, she put the crook of her index finger between her teeth and looked thoughtful. Finally she said, "Go and get undressed. I'll draw you a nice hot bath so you can warm up and then get you some ice for your face." She was silent and Leon waited for her to say more, but she was apparently finished because she barked, "Do you want to get sick? Chop chop!"
Giving a slight jump, he hurried to drop his clothes in the laundry room, then, wrapping himself in a towel, he went to the bathroom where Claire was waiting, sitting at the edge of a tub full of hot, steaming bubbles. The faint smell of pine or something drifted into his nostrils.
"Claire," he whined, not realizing he took a step back. "Do I have to? Okay, I'm a little bruised—that doesn't mean I need to get the spa treatment." His words became more and more jumpy as Claire tested the water, ignoring every word he said.
"Trust me," she said, seeing the skeptical look on his face. "This aroma therapy will make you feel better than the bath alone."
"No." he said, shaking his head and turning around. "No, I'm good—really."
"I don't see what the big deal was." Claire said, taking the ice pack away from Leon's face then reapplying it. "You feel better, don't you?"
Leon pressed his lips together and looked to his extreme right. "Yeah, it was okay. I'm just gonna have to smell like a cardboard air freshener until morning—but hey, yeah, I feel better." Leon said, raising hands in surrender.
"You do NOT smell like an air freshener." Claire exclaimed. "That's the most masculine bath powder they have."
"Who has?" Leon asked, looking at her seriously.
Claire opened her mouth to reply but even before the word formed in her mind, she knew it sounded stupid. "Rebecca."
"Exactly. Well, that makes me feel LOADS more comfortable."
Claire sighed and propped her jaw in her palm, resting her elbow on her lap. She had been too concerned on helping Leon when he first arrived to notice or ask, but now that she was looking at him she began to wonder. "Leon, how did you get those shiners?"
Leon faced her squarely for all of two seconds before he looked down at his hands. "I fell—I bumped into a door at work."
"No, you didn't." Claire said, frowning suddenly.
"Yes, I did." He replied.
"No, you DIDN'T." Claire insisted, pulling her legs up underneath her.
"Yes, I DID." Leon said firmly. "It was an accident. It could've happened to anybody."
Claire tried to laugh but it was more of an exhausted type of chuckle. "Do you really think you can lie to me, Leon?" she asked him softly. "Me? Of all people? I've used that excuse at least a hundred times."
When Leon didn't look or answer her, she moved closer and placed a knowing hand on his shoulder. "Those bruises come from people hitting you, not from bumping into wooden doors."
"It was steel." Leon said tightly, for all that it matter because he knew Claire was on to him and he faltered even as he tried to rationalize. "It was hard and closed and bumping into doors hurt no matter what you think…."
"Just TELL me." She told him steadfastly. Leon looked as if just forming the words in his mind were painful.
"Well, um, I ran into someone today." Leon said neutrally.
"Uh-huh, and?" she pressed.
"It was Steve." Leon said, forcing himself up in order to avoid looking at her.
At the mention of his name, Claire cringed and a sudden fury swept up inside her.
"STEVE?! What did he do to you, Leon? What the HELL did he do to you?" she cried, flying up and grabbing Leon's shoulders, shaking him hard.
"Claire, Claire, Claire!" Leon spoke over her hysterics. "He didn't do anything, I started the fight."
Claire backed away from him, her arms dropping to her sides, her face blank and devoid of feeling.
Swallowing hard, her hand at the base of her neck, she said, "Who—who finished it?"
"What?" Leon asked.
"Who won?" Claire said, exasperatedly.
"Oh." Leon said. "Well, me, as far as I could—"
Leon would have said more but at that very moment, Claire jumped up and wrapped her arms around him so tightly he could barely breathe.
"You did that?" Claire whispered, closing her eyes and holding him tighter.
Leon couldn't speak at the moment; he muttered a vague, 'mhmm' and slowly stroked her hair. Claire inhaled and breathed in the smell of cedar and pine that hung heavily on him. Looking back up at Leon with an awed kind of wonder in her bright eyes she smiled.
"Thank you." She said.
Before she could bring herself to do anymore, a particularly loud clap of thunder shook the house and Claire instinctively grabbed Leon so close that there was barely any room for their clothes between them. "Hold me tighter." She said her voice unable to differentiate between a command or request.
Taking a deep breath, Leon rested his strong chin on the top of her rich red-brown hair and increased his hold considerably, scared to believe that this was all happening, but happy that it was.
"I'm sorry about last night." She told him quietly. "I didn't mean to insult or hurt you. I just was so scared that I didn't know what to d—"
"Shhhh…" Leon said, pressing his finger to her lips. "It's okay."
He tilted her chin up to look at him and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. "That was no way to go about it…it was too fast. Fast is good for some people but you," he said, his voice deepening as he leaned closer to her, aware that everything that poured out of his mouth was sounding like a romance novel but also aware that he meant every word of it. "You, Claire Redfield, are special."
"I'm no more special than the next girl." Claire replied, embarrassed by what he was saying but enjoying every second of it. "I don't need any…"
"I'll tell you what you need," Leon said seriously as he bent lower. "You need someone who will be patient, gentle…who'll tease and kiss you until you're driven into a heated frenzy…"
"And?" she pressed breathlessly, closing her eyes and waiting for the feel of his lips on hers.
"And then show you passion beyond your wildest dreams." He said, his lips speaking against hers now, just brushing the surface.
Claire swooned breathlessly and almost fell to the floor if Leon had not been there to catch her. Clinging to him, she pressed her mouth to his earlobe, "Don't be so sure you'll be the only one satisfied after this—I've learned a few things."
"Well then," he said, looking impassive, but dying inside. "Teach me."
WARNING: Romantic swill ahead. If that's A-OK with you, proceed. Do not surpass 75 mph, I am not responsible if you get whiplash. :) :) :) Don't laugh, I was having a romantic movie marathon while writing this.
Leon squinted as he looked out over the hills, the rain drenching him to the bone and blocking his vision so that he could barely see two feet in front of his face. It was a few hours after the confrontation with Steve and in that time he had managed to drive as far as a quarter tank of gas would allow. The drive had been refreshing and the rain was now beating down on him hard, but he was still bristling from all that had happened. He saw now that maybe he should have killed Steve when he had the chance…
After he had pounded Steve's face in, the little shit had gone into the main office and made a scene. He said Leon had flown into an angry rage and took it out on the first available person that came along. As lame as his story was, evidence was in his favor. He was bloodied up really bad and Leon was the only person who could have done it. Keith Harper had looked at Leon with a shocked expression and had stammered when he asked him to join him in the office (after letting Steve go, free of charge and promising a lifetime of free service).
Leon's heart was pounding and his breakfast was swirling in his stomach as he sat down in the black leather chair. When prodded repeatedly for an explanation, Leon hesitated. If he told about Steve, he'd have to explain about Claire, and that was none of Harper's damn business. He wasn't going to use Claire like that; her honor meant much more to him than his job.
When Leon didn't volunteer any elucidation for his actions, Keith sighed.
"Well, uh, Leon…it's obvious that you—you're under a lot of stress around here…" he struggled, trying to find the right words. "Take a break for a while—we'll call you."
That 'we'll call you' sounded an awful lot like 'good bye', but it was one of the nicest ways Leon had ever been laid off of a job. In a surreal way.
What a day. He'd gotten rejected, gotten revenge and lost his job—life was full of shit. Feeling a lot like it, he mounted his motorcycle and started off just as a clap of thunder sounded. He rode seven miles in the pouring rain and slippery road with old ladies in 4X4s flicking him off with their nine-year-old grandchildren writing cuss words on the steaming windows at him. Okay, so he was being dramatic, but it was a thought that crossed his mind and made him smile in spite of himself. An eight-five miles per hour pen pal…
He finally reached Chris' subdivision and turned into Tesoro Circle, where his house was stood. Parking in the free-standing garage, he noticed that Claire was already home, the living room was brightly lit and had a warm glow to it. His feet were anxious to get inside, out of the freezing rain and into the warm heated house, but his mind and heart hesitated. Was he really ready to face Claire just yet?
After five minutes of standing in the rain like an idiot, he threw his pride away and stomped up the porch. Opening the door, he stepped inside and was greeted by the promised heat and the smell of something delicious in the kitchen. Taking his jacket and boots off, he put them on the side and tried to shake some of the water off, even though he was hopelessly sodden.
"Leon?" Claire called from the hallway.
"Uh, yeah?" he asked, managing to wring out a few droplets from his hair. Futile.
"Great, I'm glad you're here, because I rented…" she rounded the corner and trailed off when she saw him. "…John Q…but I guess you're a little tired of watching movies, huh?"
Leon shook his head, spraying her with some water which she playfully swiped away. "No, not at all. Movies are great."
He was surprised to see how relaxed she looked; there was a bounce in her step, a pink tinge to her cheeks and her eyes were lit by a harmony he hadn't seen in a while. The lighting must be playing tricks on his eyes…
"You look awful." She declared. "What happened?"
Leon looked down at his wet clothes then back up at her with an are-you-kidding expression. "Isn't it obvious?" he then added slyly. "I went chubby-dipping—it's kind of like skinny-dipping, only you leave your clothes on."
Claire laughed, not amused. "You're a real comedian, I mean these." She said, brushing his cheek and eye. To his surprise, he shrunk back as it stung faintly. "You're a little bruised."
Stepping back, she put the crook of her index finger between her teeth and looked thoughtful. Finally she said, "Go and get undressed. I'll draw you a nice hot bath so you can warm up and then get you some ice for your face." She was silent and Leon waited for her to say more, but she was apparently finished because she barked, "Do you want to get sick? Chop chop!"
Giving a slight jump, he hurried to drop his clothes in the laundry room, then, wrapping himself in a towel, he went to the bathroom where Claire was waiting, sitting at the edge of a tub full of hot, steaming bubbles. The faint smell of pine or something drifted into his nostrils.
"Claire," he whined, not realizing he took a step back. "Do I have to? Okay, I'm a little bruised—that doesn't mean I need to get the spa treatment." His words became more and more jumpy as Claire tested the water, ignoring every word he said.
"Trust me," she said, seeing the skeptical look on his face. "This aroma therapy will make you feel better than the bath alone."
"No." he said, shaking his head and turning around. "No, I'm good—really."
"I don't see what the big deal was." Claire said, taking the ice pack away from Leon's face then reapplying it. "You feel better, don't you?"
Leon pressed his lips together and looked to his extreme right. "Yeah, it was okay. I'm just gonna have to smell like a cardboard air freshener until morning—but hey, yeah, I feel better." Leon said, raising hands in surrender.
"You do NOT smell like an air freshener." Claire exclaimed. "That's the most masculine bath powder they have."
"Who has?" Leon asked, looking at her seriously.
Claire opened her mouth to reply but even before the word formed in her mind, she knew it sounded stupid. "Rebecca."
"Exactly. Well, that makes me feel LOADS more comfortable."
Claire sighed and propped her jaw in her palm, resting her elbow on her lap. She had been too concerned on helping Leon when he first arrived to notice or ask, but now that she was looking at him she began to wonder. "Leon, how did you get those shiners?"
Leon faced her squarely for all of two seconds before he looked down at his hands. "I fell—I bumped into a door at work."
"No, you didn't." Claire said, frowning suddenly.
"Yes, I did." He replied.
"No, you DIDN'T." Claire insisted, pulling her legs up underneath her.
"Yes, I DID." Leon said firmly. "It was an accident. It could've happened to anybody."
Claire tried to laugh but it was more of an exhausted type of chuckle. "Do you really think you can lie to me, Leon?" she asked him softly. "Me? Of all people? I've used that excuse at least a hundred times."
When Leon didn't look or answer her, she moved closer and placed a knowing hand on his shoulder. "Those bruises come from people hitting you, not from bumping into wooden doors."
"It was steel." Leon said tightly, for all that it matter because he knew Claire was on to him and he faltered even as he tried to rationalize. "It was hard and closed and bumping into doors hurt no matter what you think…."
"Just TELL me." She told him steadfastly. Leon looked as if just forming the words in his mind were painful.
"Well, um, I ran into someone today." Leon said neutrally.
"Uh-huh, and?" she pressed.
"It was Steve." Leon said, forcing himself up in order to avoid looking at her.
At the mention of his name, Claire cringed and a sudden fury swept up inside her.
"STEVE?! What did he do to you, Leon? What the HELL did he do to you?" she cried, flying up and grabbing Leon's shoulders, shaking him hard.
"Claire, Claire, Claire!" Leon spoke over her hysterics. "He didn't do anything, I started the fight."
Claire backed away from him, her arms dropping to her sides, her face blank and devoid of feeling.
Swallowing hard, her hand at the base of her neck, she said, "Who—who finished it?"
"What?" Leon asked.
"Who won?" Claire said, exasperatedly.
"Oh." Leon said. "Well, me, as far as I could—"
Leon would have said more but at that very moment, Claire jumped up and wrapped her arms around him so tightly he could barely breathe.
"You did that?" Claire whispered, closing her eyes and holding him tighter.
Leon couldn't speak at the moment; he muttered a vague, 'mhmm' and slowly stroked her hair. Claire inhaled and breathed in the smell of cedar and pine that hung heavily on him. Looking back up at Leon with an awed kind of wonder in her bright eyes she smiled.
"Thank you." She said.
Before she could bring herself to do anymore, a particularly loud clap of thunder shook the house and Claire instinctively grabbed Leon so close that there was barely any room for their clothes between them. "Hold me tighter." She said her voice unable to differentiate between a command or request.
Taking a deep breath, Leon rested his strong chin on the top of her rich red-brown hair and increased his hold considerably, scared to believe that this was all happening, but happy that it was.
"I'm sorry about last night." She told him quietly. "I didn't mean to insult or hurt you. I just was so scared that I didn't know what to d—"
"Shhhh…" Leon said, pressing his finger to her lips. "It's okay."
He tilted her chin up to look at him and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. "That was no way to go about it…it was too fast. Fast is good for some people but you," he said, his voice deepening as he leaned closer to her, aware that everything that poured out of his mouth was sounding like a romance novel but also aware that he meant every word of it. "You, Claire Redfield, are special."
"I'm no more special than the next girl." Claire replied, embarrassed by what he was saying but enjoying every second of it. "I don't need any…"
"I'll tell you what you need," Leon said seriously as he bent lower. "You need someone who will be patient, gentle…who'll tease and kiss you until you're driven into a heated frenzy…"
"And?" she pressed breathlessly, closing her eyes and waiting for the feel of his lips on hers.
"And then show you passion beyond your wildest dreams." He said, his lips speaking against hers now, just brushing the surface.
Claire swooned breathlessly and almost fell to the floor if Leon had not been there to catch her. Clinging to him, she pressed her mouth to his earlobe, "Don't be so sure you'll be the only one satisfied after this—I've learned a few things."
"Well then," he said, looking impassive, but dying inside. "Teach me."
