4. Right Where It Belongs
They sat at opposite ends of the couch with a giant German Shepard named Hannah ensconced between them, watching episodes of MacGyver. Hannah was a former service dog at Raccoon City whose trip to a county vet on the eve of the 25th of September had prevented her from going up into flames with the rest of the city. When Leon had found her adoption ad in the paper, he had taken her in immediately, convinced it was fate. Besides being a bit overprotective, she was well-mannered, house-trained and low-maintenance—the perfect female companion for Leon.
Hannah's only vice was she seemed to hate Claire Redfield.
"Is there anything you can't do with duct tape," Claire said in awe as the episode in which MacGyver had made a bomb out of just Nitroglycerin tablets and duct tape closed. Hannah growled at the sound of Claire's voice and Claire shifted uneasily, holding her hands in her lap.
Leon laughed at Hannah and Claire. "What did you do to her, Claire?"
"Nothing except love her," Claire said, giving Leon a sickly sweet smile. Hannah continued growling.
"I'm sure," Leon said. Hannah stopped growling and her tail started wagging as Leon rubbed her back strongly before he stood up and muted the television's commercials. He turned to the two females and mouthed the word behave in their direction; though whether it was to human or the dog, it was unclear. Then he left the room to refill the popcorn bowl and grab another beer.
Hannah's tail stopped wagging and she started growling again as Leon disappeared into the kitchen. Claire got off the couch and Hannah followed suit, still growling. Claire, annoyed, bared her own teeth and growled back. Hannah yelped and ran off to Leon's bedroom, tail tucked between her legs. The Redfield smiled brightly, satisfied.
"Hey, do you want another beer?" he called from the kitchen.
"It's fine," she said.
"I'm having one."
"You have to work tomorrow, you shouldn't get drunk," she chided, sitting back down on the couch, putting her hand where Hannah had been. It was damp and smelled grossly of wet dog fur.
Leon Kennedy walked back into the room, noticing Hannah had left. He popped off the beer's cap and caught it in an even swoop of his left palm before sitting down. He placed the popcorn bowl where the dog had been, not saying a word about her disappearance. Another episode of MacGyver came on, but the television was still muted.
"Correction, we have a testimony tomorrow," he said. "Besides, I'm not getting drunk."
"You've had three beers."
"And this will be my last." He leaned back into the couch. He could smell the wet dog now, too. It invaded his nostrils and made him gag a little. Suddenly he wasn't so sure if he wanted the beer after all.
"Eau de Dog?" Claire asked.
Leon wrinkled his nose. "Major Eau de Dog."
"You never told me you had a dog before," she said reaching for the remote to unmute the television. "I didn't even know you liked dogs."
"I like to keep the mystique alive," he said, reaching for the remote at the same time as she did, his hand brushing against hers. Their hands stayed there, on each others, for several seconds until the doorbell rang. Claire looked at him and he looked at her; both expressions were unreadable, and a sense of confusion lingered in the air. There was a definite realization from both that something was happening and they should react, but no reaction was made. Finally, at the third doorbell ring, she cleared her throat and removed her hand from his to gesture to the door.
Without a word, Leon got up to answer the door, still feeling Claire's hand on his. It had been hot and small, fitting perfectly against his. It had been enjoyable, to say the least.
Meanwhile, in the background, Claire unmuted the television and the living room exploded in a cacophony of bullets and shattering glass.
Leon swung the door open and saw Jill Valentine huddling under the larger figure of Chris Redfield. Both were dripping wet from the rain and their eyes looked apologetic, almost sheepish. "Our hotel reservation got canceled," Chris explained, sounding irritated. Water droplets fell from his brow. "Do you have a guest room?"
"Yes, but—"
"What's going on in there, Kennedy?" Jill said, interrupting and peering into the room. The gunfire continued on, and was laced with the laughter of Claire. It sounded like someone was getting a kick out of World War III.
Chris Redfield recognized her laughter immediately, having heard it too many times to count before. "My sister is in there."
"Nothing, Valentine," Leon said, "The government would be happy to administer you rooms elsewhere, I'm sure I could make a call or two."
Chris didn't listen; Claire may have been twenty-five, but she was still his little sister and he didn't like the idea of her alone at Leon's apartment. He may have known Leon for years, but he still didn't trust Leon's agenda. He pushed himself into the doorjamb. "Claire?"
"Chris! Jill!" she chimed, getting up off the couch and hitting the mute button again. She walked to the door and opened it, giving them both a short hug and pulling away. "You two are soaking, is it still raining?"
"Yes," Jill said, stepping inside. She gave Chris a look that said more than words could to shut him up, seeing the flare of anger in his eyes.
Claire took Chris and Jill's soaked coats and luggage, placing them by the closet leading to the living room. "Why are you guys here so late?"
"Airplane was delayed, hotel canceled our reservations," Jill said. She was frustrated and flustered. She hated traveling more than anything. "This was the only place we could go, unless we wanted to sleep in the rental car."
"And why are you here, Claire?" Chris demanded. Jill pulled on his arm and gave him another look, but it did no good. Chris Redfield's brotherly instinct was beginning to kick in.
"We were watching MacGyver," Claire said defensively. She gestured to the television casually.
The mention of MacGyver caught his interest. The Redfields had literally grown up on episodes of MacGyver and one of Chris Redfield's ambitions in grade school had been to be the next MacGyver. This was seemingly something him and Leon shared. "What episode?"
"The one where he makes the bomb out of duct tape and nitroglycerine," she said.
"I haven't seen that one in years!" Chris Redfield moved past all of them and sat down on the couch, turning the volume back on and apparently forgetting his brotherly anger for the time being.
This was how Leon ended hosting Claire Redfield, Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine in his tiny apartment in the heart of Washington D.C. the night before their governmental hearing. And as much as he might have pretended to dislike the interruption, he really couldn't deny how good it felt to be with friends once again; to have their backs and them his.
Note: I know Hannah might seem implausible, but I always saw Leon as a dog person! Thanks to all who reviewed last chapter, it meant a lot—though I don't think I will be bringing back Brad as one reviewer suggested.