"Hey. I need to talk to you."

The sound of Chris Redfield's voice, friendly-serious, made Leon turn. A strange feeling overcame Leon, one that bordered on guilt. Somehow, he felt like he'd been caught doing something, even if he was just walking across the parking lot. He turned fully to face the other man, his suit jacket hanging uselessly from his hand, his face momentarily blank and confused. Pulling it together, Leon shrugged with his eyebrows. "Okay," he said, looking over at the other man evenly. "What's up?"

"Where're ya headed?" Chris asked, indicating the parking lot and the vehicles around them. "You just grabbing something, or…?"

Leon stuck one of his hands in his pocket and shook his head. "Uh, no, actually. I'm headed over to one of the offices to drop some files off for the guys there." His teeth bit into his tongue for a moment, weighing his options. "You're welcome to ride along, if you want. I'm going to be coming back here afterwards to pick up Donaldson and Gervais to take them back to the other offices, so we can get our own cars."

A small smile spread on Chris's face. "You drivin' some kind of big, fancy government car?"

"A big black GMC Denali," Leon replied, smiling a little himself. "You know, one of those big tough Feeb SUVs we always roll around in."

"Count me in," Chris said, his smile growing for a moment as he walked up to Leon. "They let you take those things home for the weekend or anything, ever?"

Leon grinned and shook his head. "No. But make no mistake, I abuse my privileges every chance I get. Technically they're only supposed to be used for government business, but who says that government business doesn't entail me going to lunch and driving over to Best Buy?"

They were at the discussed Denali, Leon unlocking the doors. Both men climbed in and shut their doors, Chris looking around and giving a whistle. "Hot damn," he said, slouching in his seat a little. "Leather seats and everything. No wonder this damn government's going to financial hell in a handbasket."

Leon chuckled a little and started the truck, checking the backseat to make sure the box of files was there like Gervais had said. "Yeah. I mean, were the ass-warming seats and extra-deluxe stereo system really necessary?"

Chris made a little pshaw noise and looked out the window, tugging his seatbelt into place and fastening it as Leon shifted into drive and moved out of the parking space. "Damn cushy government jobs," he grumbled, although it sounded as if he wasn't entirely serious. "I coulda been high-ballin' it in the Air Force if I hadn't gotten my ass kicked out."

Against his better judgement, Leon had to ask. "Why'd you get kicked out, anyway? I mean, shit, you'd been in for…what, three, three and a half years?" Leon knew that he may have been acquainted and friendly with the man in the vehicle with him, but he really didn't know the guy. Being Claire's brother had given him immediate carte blanche, but Leon somehow felt as if he should really know the guy better than he did—or at least try to know him better.

"Got a mouth on me," Chris replied. "And a temper something fierce. I was constantly in trouble, even if I was a model fucking pilot. It got to be a little too much after a while. I got into a…heated discussion with one of my superior officers one day. It hadn't been the first time. One thing led to another and one thing leads to another, and next thing I know I'm gettin' hauled off dude and he's on the ground, missing a lot of teeth and a good portion of his face."

Note to self: don't piss Chris off. Leon looked over at the older man and nodded, pulling up to a stoplight. "Shit. That's rough. Sometimes you just see red, I guess." But then again, it seems that your very existence pisses Chris off sometimes. Dumb fucking luck, every time the guy comes looking for his sister, he finds her in cahoots with you.

"Heh. Yeah, shit happens." Chris reclined his seat a little, using the rocker button on his door panel to roll his window down a crack. "Can I smoke in here?" he asked, already reaching into the pocket of his slacks. It hadn't taken Chris very long after court had been adjourned for the day to lose his jacket and his tie, and then unbutton his shirt and roll up the shirtsleeves. He looked like some kind of laid-back, relatively well-dressed con-man.

"We're not supposed to," Leon began, "but everyone does anyway, and no one ever seems to say anything about it. So go ahead." In the corner of his eye he saw Chris light up thankfully, taking a long drag and then exhaling a mammoth cloud of smoke.

"So how you suits feelin' about the way the trial's goin'?" Chris asked, ashing his cigarette out the window before tossing the pack up onto the dash. "I mean, you've got 'em, but you see 'em trying to stall more in the future?"

Leon had the distinct feeling that Chris was making small talk; that he was avoiding something that he really wanted to talk about, instead making small talk in an attempt to get Leon to either relax or drop his guard and do something fucking stupid. Kind of one in the same, Leon thought while keeping his eyes on the road. "We feel pretty good. There's just no way that the metric fuckload of evidence—paper trails, witness accounts, testimony from people who've turned State's evidence, security footage, phone calls, computer files, virus samples—is going to be ignored. I mean, hell. The defense is getting nervous, we can tell. They're motioning for every delay they can possibly motion for, but I think the bench is getting tired of it. Almost all of it's been turned down in the last few weeks."

Chris ran a hand over his spiky hair, looking at his cigarette. "Yeah. I mean—damn, the testimonies should be enough alone, if you ask me. I mean, I guess we aren't supposed to do this kind of shit, but Claire and I really had to sit down for a few nights in a row and get our stories about all the shit that happened in Antarctica straight. We had to be able to, y'know, put it all together in somethin' that didn't contradict itself all the time because we were separated a lot."

Leon nodded. "Yeah, yeah. You've provided a lot of valuable testimony, Chris. I mean…really fucking valuable. You have no idea how much all of it helps—you, Jill, and Barry were smart to start keeping journals right after the Spencer incident and from there on out. Not only did it keep the facts fresh in your minds, but it provided a kind of…verification of the accounts, that so many people had seen the same things."

"Yeah." Chris sighed this, letting out a jet of smoke. "Yeah, I feel pretty good about it," he continued, smoke puffing out of his mouth with every word. "And everyone else's testimony?"

"Solid," Leon said, shaking his head slowly and raising his eyebrows, as if he'd been trying to find fault with it himself. "I think some of the people on the jury may be a little wary of trusting Billy Coen, but that's just the nature of it. He's been pardoned and cleared, and there's an official investigation into what happened in Africa, but the moment the defense brought all that shit up…I think his testimony was really probably negated, at that point."

"I can't believe the judge allowed them to bring that shit up," Chris growled, ashing his cigarette with hard flicks out the window. "That was a long time ago and it has nothing to do with Umbrella."

Leon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Well, yeah. For whatever reason, the judge allowed it. Maybe he was just feeling bad for the defense because everyone's been so solid on the stand, and all the evidence is so damning. Throw 'em a bone, or something."

Chris was silent, obviously in agreement and not thinking it worth discussing any further. He flicked his cigarette out the window and left it halfway open, leaving the breeze to ruffle Leon's hair as they drove along. The silence stretched out for a few minutes, and it made Leon uncomfortable. It made him want to reach for the radio controls or start talking, but somehow doing that would be showing that Chris was getting to his nerves, giving the older man the upper hand.

Claire was always telling him that Chris, no matter what kind of down-South good-ole boy he seemed to be, was pretty good at getting people to sweat when he wanted them to. Chris definitely seemed to be trying to do something, he was quiet, but there was a heaviness to the quiet, as if he had something he wanted to say but was waiting until the right time to say it.

Part of the situation pissed Leon off. He was a big fucking boy, no matter what Chris Redfield thought, and he didn't really like some older-brother type trying to psych him out, trying to intimidate him. Part of the situation seemed natural and fairly legitimate to Leon—Chris had a lot to be wary of. The man didn't trust authority, really, it seemed, and even though Leon was younger than him, he was still The Law.

These were all side issues to the real elephant in the corner that no one wanted to acknowledge. Leon didn't want to admit it to himself, even internally, but he had a pretty damn good idea as to what this was going to be about, what a lot of whatever Chris Redfield had to say to him would be about—Claire. Once again, Leon was split on the issue. Part of him wanted to tell Chris to fuck off; Claire was Leon's friend, and even if his thoughts and feelings towards her were starting to stray into some kind of dangerous grey area, she was still his friend. He wouldn't do anything to disrespect her or harm her in any way, never intentionally. The fuck kind of douchebag did Chris figure him for? The other part of Leon understood completely—he was a guy that Claire was very comfortable around and good friends with. Chris didn't know Leon all that well, and Leon had a sister too, at one point in time. Sure, she'd been older, but it hadn't stopped him and his other brothers from pulling the overly-protective macho act a lot.

Leon decided to push the issue. Sitting in silence wasn't his style. "Anything else besides the case you wanna talk to me about?" he asked, conversational but serious.

Chris nodded and reached for his smokes again, lighting up another one. It kind of made Leon wish he still smoked. At least it would have given him something to do with his hands aside from grip the wheel. Chris took a few moments to reply, and then turned to look at Leon, unblinking and serious. "What's going on between you and my sister?" he asked bluntly.

Internally, Leon could breathe a partially relieved sigh. At least he knew what this was all about. "Chris, nothing is going on between us. We're just friends. We've been through a lot of the same things together and it's more or less formed a bond."

Chris was still staring at him evenly, attempting to gauge the validity of the statement. "Just friends, huh?"

"Yeah." Leon refused to look nervous, or to act guilty. "Just friends."

"Claire's young, and no matter what she says, she's real fuckin' vulnerable right now," Chris continued, looking out the window. "I don't like not having her in my sight, down in Richmond. I ain't sayin' I don't trust you, Leon, but I am saying I'm suspicious of all guys who suddenly become my little sister's best friend."

The statement—and the implied theory—set Leon's teeth on edge, a little. It was going to get him nowhere if he got angry, so he stuffed it back down and unclenched his teeth. "Chris, if you're saying that I'm trying to get closer to Claire so I can bag her when she's down, then you're barking up the wrong tree. Claire is my friend. I wouldn't do that to her—or anyone else, for that matter. I know you don't know me all that well, but I'm not that kind of guy. It's not in me."

Chris was silent again for a few moments, rubbing at his stubble, choosing his next words. "All I'm sayin' is I've never seen my sister this close to a guy before, and it sprang up pretty damn quick. She talks about you a lot, and she's spending a hell of a lot of time with you. I'm just sayin' that if you're dropping some kind of hints or sending her some kinds of little signs, then you need to knock it off. Claire doesn't need that kind of shit going on right now."

Leon's teeth were grinding again. What kind of fucker did Chris Redfield take him for? "Look, Chris. Claire and I were close before, when we were on the run from Umbrella together, and nothing happened between us then. It isn't as if we're suddenly becoming close now—we spent a lot of time apart, and now we're back together and hanging out because we're friends." Leon didn't know how many times he was going to have to bring up the word friends and emphasize it so. "I'm not dropping any kind of hints or trying to lead your sister along into anything. I'm not that kind of person."

"She's my baby sister," Chris said with quiet intensity, looking over at Leon. "I'm just looking out for her."

Leon unclenched his teeth a little, hoping it wasn't noticeable to the man sitting next to him. "I know. I had a sister, too. She passed away years ago, but my brothers and I always did the same for her. But…Claire's a smart girl. Do you think she'd be hanging out with me if I was a bastard? She'd have picked up on it a long time ago and told me to go fuck myself."

Chris was still looking at Leon. "I know. She's smart, but she's young and infamous for making bad decisions." He exhaled through his nose, smoke billowing around his face. "And she may be your friend, Leon, but I ain't blind. You do look at her."

There was a moment of silence. Leon had hoped—hoped in vain, it seemed—that Chris Redfield would never notice that Leon was having an increasingly hard time keeping his eyes on proper places on Claire. Just what he needed.

"She hasn't noticed. But I have. I ain't really sure what to think of that, honestly," Chris went on, ashing his cigarette. "I don't know how I feel about the guy who's professing up and down that he's not that guy, that he's just my sister's friend…I don't know how I feel about that guy checking my sister out when she ain't looking."

Leon looked over to the pack of cigarettes on the dash and reached for it suddenly, noticing the way Chris's eyebrow arched but not caring. Depressing the Denali's lighter, he resumed staring back into traffic for a second as he waited for it to pop out. When it did, he lit his cigarette and exhaled, wincing a little. "I haven't had one of these things in months," he said offhandedly, looking at the cigarette. "Okay, Chris, I'm going to be completely honest with you, here. I've caught myself looking at Claire, and I am not particularly fond of it myself. Your sister is a pretty girl, I'm sure you've noticed this. Apparently I've noticed it too, or at least some part of me has. But she is my friend—a good friend, one of the few I can still count having. I would never do anything to hurt her or compromise her, ever."

"Then why're you lookin' at her?" Chris asked bluntly, not giving up an inch of room.

"Honestly?" Leon asked, raising his eyebrows and exhaling, "Probably because it's been a long time since I've had a woman in my life, and all of a sudden I'm around Claire nearly twenty-four seven, and my eyes don't know the difference, even if my mind and gut do." It was kind of a shit reason, but it was the honest truth. "I can't help it. I'm sorry. I really am trying to not do it, but sometimes I mess up. I don't want to offend your sister or hurt her feelings, or make her feel weird. But sometimes I guess I just can't help but look."

Chris turned away, blowing a stream of smoke out the window, putting a foot up on the dash easily. "That doesn't exactly set a man's mind at ease, Kennedy," Chris replied, evenly. "It actually kind of makes him wonder more."

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that." Leon chortled a little and shook his head, looking at his hand on the steering wheel. "I'd say it too. I'm just trying to be honest with you and not feed you a big line of shit, Chris. Claire's my friend and you're her older brother. I don't want you to think I'm a fucker, but I don't want you breathing down my neck, either."

"Mind your eyes and I won't have to," Chris said nonchalantly, but the serious intent was understood.

Leon swallowed and nodded slowly, then looked over at Chris. His face was trying hard to frown, but he wasn't going to let it—damnit, I am not going to get into a whose-dick-is-bigger-battle with this guy, of all people. "Your concern is appreciated and well-warranted, Chris, but I'm a big boy, okay? I can keep my hands to myself, and I will—not because you're asking me to, but because I respect Claire. She's a pretty girl. But she's way more of an amazing person, and I value her a lot more for that than for her looks."

Chris flicked his cigarette out the window and resumed rubbing the stubble on his jaw slowly, studying some unknown point on the horizon. "I know what you're trying to say, Kennedy, and I applaud you for it. But the last guy that gave me this same kind of speech about Claire ended up dating her and making a real fucking mess of it, one that I had to deal with by showing up at the kid's house with a baseball bat."

Leon chortled again, but it was without mirth. "Look, man, if you're trying to tell me that you're going to show up at my doorstep with a baseball bat, I really wish you'd reconsider it." This situation was getting dangerously close to erupting into some kind of full-blown argument or fight, and that was the last thing Leon wanted, even if Chris was pushing all of his buttons at once. He had the strangest feeling that if he were to go off on Chris, that Chris would just use it as justification to Claire as to why Leon was a jerk, and why she shouldn't hang out around him. "I don't want to be your enemy, man. Your sister's my friend. I'm having a hard time understanding why I can't be yours."

"I'm havin' a hard time understanding why you can't keep your eyes off Claire if you're supposed to be this stand-up guy and all," Chris countered, with a humourless chuckle of his own. "You're sayin' one thing and acting the other, Kennedy. That really concerns me. If you wanna earn my trust and my friendship, pal, you need to try to keep your eyes off my little sister's ass."

Leon couldn't look over at Chris. If he looked over, he was going to go off. "And what about all the times I saved her ass, huh? How about all the information I gave you, and your friends? How about all the times I kept you out of the hands of the government, kept you out of jail, fed you intel?" Leon paused for a moment, knowing he was dangerously close to losing his temper. "None of that's good enough to earn your trust? I've almost landed myself in court-marshal before because of all the things I've done for you. And now, you catch me unintentionally looking at Claire once or twice and I'm the big bad wolf?"

The anger was right there, right under the surface, trying to break its way out. "If so, Chris, you'd better take another look around. A good fucking look. I respect Claire. I value her as a friend. I'm not completely innocent as a man, true, but there are a lot bigger and badder wolves out there who would chew your sister up and spit her out. You're so damn busy watching me that you aren't watching half of the other people in the courtroom who really aren't trying to hide the fact that they're staring at your sister. Hell, half the people who are on your side spend a good amount of time looking at her, too. But have you given Carlos Oliviera or Billy Coen this talk? Probably not."

Leon was on a roll, flicking what was left of his cigarette out the window, angrily. "The difference between them and me is that you don't like me. I'm some desk-working G-man, I'm The Man, I'm the kind of guy you've hated all your life. And it just fucking burns you up that I'm friends with your sister, doesn't it?"

"Them's some words, Kennedy." Chris Redfield was stern, his eyes and face unsmiling. There was ill-checked anger broiling within his eyes, easily visible. "If you were anyone else, I would have told you to pull this thing over about two minutes ago so I could get out and pound your ass." Chris ignored Leon's heh noise and continued, just as austerely. "You're an alright guy. I don't know you. All I know of you is from what Claire tells me, and she seems to think you're hot shit, so that'll have to do for me. I don't want to have to be your enemy, son, but I will be if you don't get your shit sorted out and treat my sister right—like you say she is—like your friend."

"Did you just call me 'son'?" Leon asked, with an incredulous, humourless laugh. "Whatever. I've been nothing but a perfect gentleman to Claire, but it seems like no matter what I do, you're going to see me as some kind of twisted predator, out to get into her pants and then heave her overboard." Leon turned to look at Chris, his eyes boring into the other man's for a moment. "I'm not that guy." Looking away, he attempted to force calm on himself and keep his eyes on the road. "You think I am, but I'm not. Believe me or don't believe me, that's up to you. But I am not going to sit here and be lectured like some horny sixteen-year-old, man. It's just fucking insulting."

"So there's nothing going on." It was meant to be a question, Leon could tell, but Chris said it in a very flat, enforcing kind of way.

"No," Leon said, finally, in exasperation. "And let me tell you what, Chris, even if there was, number one—it wouldn't be any of your damn business, and number two—you still wouldn't have anything to worry about. Claire's an important person in my life. She's an important person, period. I wouldn't treat her wrong or disrespect her in any way. What's more is that I believe that she's capable of making her own sound decisions, and I think she's got a good head on her shoulders. I've seen her make better decisions, harder decisions than someone twice her age has ever had to make. She's fucking smart, okay? It seems like you need to wake up and realize that. She's your kid sister, I know, but she can't ride around on your shoulders forever, man."

Chris's mouth turned downwards sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me how to act around my little sister, Kennedy."

Leon looked over briefly, returning the intimidating glance. "Don't tell me how to act around my friends, Redfield." Leon pulled up outside the security checkpoint to the building and threw the vehicle into park, looking over at Chris. "Look. I said it before, I'll say it again. I don't want to be your fucking enemy, Chris."

"I don't want you to have to be my enemy, either." Chris's face was set, unsmiling. "It's kind of up to you."

"Oh, Jesus," Leon said, rubbing his hands over his face. "Are you really gonna make it be that way, man?" He gave a little laugh that was without any sort of humour. "Don't fucking do this to me."

The sound of the passenger door opening made Leon lift his head from his hands, looking over at Chris. The older man was swinging his legs out of the truck, alighting on the ground. "I didn't do anything to you. I'll have the decency to find my own way back, though." He slammed the door behind him without a second look back and started walking down the road towards the noises and lights of cars swooping back and forth and the next intersection. Leon watched him go for a moment, considering hailing him down and telling him to get back in the truck, for Christ's sake—but he couldn't. He didn't want to.

Chris had left his smokes behind. Leon looked at them, then looked at the rapidly retreating figure of Chris. Exhaling heavily, he rolled down the passenger window and shouted to Chris. "Hey! You want your smokes, or what?" he called, watching Chris pivot backwards to face him.

"Keep 'em," Chris hollered back, trotting backwards. "You need 'em." He turned and was headed away from Leon again.