RE: Inclination
A/N: I have a word of advice to those going into an art field. Meet. Your. Deadlines. (And try not to have a second job, that will help with the first bit of that.) I'm on an inking deadline right now, and it's murder. MUR-der. But, as I'm a few days late putting this chapter up, it's a touch longer than the last ones. Enjoy.
May 2006
More than he liked, the hug had helped. Leon frowned a little at realizing that when he was hurt, the only thing he wanted was Claire's arms. The soft warmth of her breath on his neck… the sting of her words in his ears. It wasn't idyllic, it wasn't peaceful, but it was comfortable.
At the airport, he parked the BMW in the restricted parking area. Claire eyed him, but he disregarded her look and reached into the glove compartment. From there he liberated an identification tag and hung it on the rear view window. It was left over from when he was out of country in Norway, but he didn't really mind.
"Isn't this called office shrink?" Claire leaned forward and flicked the tag with her finger.
"I prefer to think of it as the perks of my job," Leon replied. "Besides, do you really want to take all the walkways and elevators to get to and from the normal garage?"
Claire chuckled at him. They climbed out, and he popped the trunk, moving to scoop up their bags. "Leave that one on the left," Claire said. Leon turned to look at her. "I didn't know if you were taking me somewhere cold, so I came prepared. It is the boy scout motto, after all," Claire said. She brushed her bangs with her fingers and looked a little awkward.
Leon just smiled and did as she asked. It was better for him, anyway. Less weight to carry. Two wounds… He could sigh at that, but he decided not to dwell. "You did bring your passport?" The two of them headed into the terminal and Leon led her straight to the baggage-check.
"No, I left that at home," Claire said, words dripping with sarcasm.
The terminal didn't seem to disturb her. Leon was glad of that. After Harvardville, it could. They stood in line. Claire fidgeted with her hair a little more, and Leon shifted to bump their shoulders together before stepping up to the baggage counter. Leon could feel that Claire's eyes followed him as he stepped up. This part probably made her a bit curious. How did the government agent get through customs?
"I'll need your tickets, sir," the gentleman behind the counter said. He looked like he might, if it were a good day, be in his early twenties. The man's badge, Leon noticed as he returned his attention there, said Clark. On a bad day 'Clark' was probably mistaken for a teenager. His face was boyish, his build was very lanky. He had a dark mop of wavy hair over a freckled face that held wary brown eyes.
Well, working for Atmos…
Leon placed their check luggage on the scale and reached into his jacket and produced the two of them. He had taken a detour the night before to go to Dulles. The ticket counter lady had looked as bewildered as 'Clark' behind the check-in counter looked here. The man blinked, looking at Leon a moment, dark eyes looking more concerned than when Leon had first approached the counter. Of course most people used digital tickets, but Leon just felt more comfortable with paper in his hand when he was hopping the country, either on business or… even though it was the first time, on pleasure.
"Atmos Airlines appreciates that you've made the choice to take your journey with us today. Is there anything you'd like to declare in the luggage sir?" Clark sounded like he was reciting a script with the direction of 'wary survivor #3'.
"Just this," Leon said. He knew what he was about to do would do nothing to help Clark's attitude of being trapped in a horror movie.
Leon produced the small leather-bound folio that held his International Authorization to Carry Arms. Something that had taken several years and several psych evaluations in several languages to acquire. Not many people had one, but they did exist. After all the terrorism incidents, they were getting both more necessary and more difficult to acquire. The license to carry a firearm on an international commercial airplane was no small feat. Unfortunately, because it was like having a Philosopher's Stone or riding in on a unicorn, most of the time he had to spend an hour waiting for a supervisor to put a call in to Washington, but when Hunnigan heard he was going out of the country, she'd sent an authorization ahead, telling him to have the baggage personnel check the daily bulletins. Clark looked dubious at the paper, almost like he was about to ask the man with the gun to politely leave the airport.
"Check your bulletins for the day."
Clark did as he was requested, taking a moment to double check. Then he glanced up at Leon, no doubt comparing photographs with the Arms Document. He still seemed skeptical. Leon resisted the urge to roll his eyes or sigh. "Scar's new."
"Yes, it is," Leon replied. He turned and offered Claire a small smile over his shoulder. She looked confused and more than a little curious at what was going on. "This'll just take a minute," he assured her before turning back to the check-in attendant.
"Alright, you've got me there," the baggage attendant said. "I'll need to see the lady's passport as well."
Claire fumbled to supply it. When she'd produced it from her carry-on, the man looked over it, and blinked. He turned his eyes to Leon, and then again to Claire. "Tell me the airport's safe."
"Passport endorsements," Leon muttered, as though for Claire's benefit. That was another annoying part of international travel for them. Or it would be, if they continued to travel together and she kept working for TerraSave. International organizations that required their employees to travel across country borders had been required to start endorsing their employees' passports. In some cases, Leon just used a different passport. He was surprised Claire had allowed that to happen to hers, she was usually very adamant about not letting people know what was going on with her movements, especially work-related ones.
"It's fine," Leon said to the spooked baggage attendant, holding up a hand for the paperwork. The man nodded, giving the papers to Leon, and he handed Claire her passport.
"Anything to declare in the baggage?"
"No," Claire said. She narrowed her eyes at the baggage claim attendant and shook her head. The attendant handed Leon the claim tickets, and he nodded, turning.
Leon headed past her, and when she didn't follow, he reached back and put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her from the counter. Thankfully, she didn't resist. "Come on."
They passed through the terminal security the way Leon always did. Claire's face still looked dubious and curious at the same time. It might be almost creepy for her, Leon thought, not having to go through the security checks like a normal person. Sure, she had to stand up and hold her arms for a wanding, but usually… well. Leon had heard that after Harvardville the TerraSave endorsement was a good way to get selected for 'random' special screening. This, in comparison, would be like a cakewalk.
When she got finished with the wanding Leon put his arm right back around her shoulders and lead her into the terminal. He kept the arm around her shoulders, even though she glanced at him curiously. He felt relaxed, almost normal. "So are you going to tell me where we're going, or am I going to have to read the destination at the gate kiosk?"
"Micronesia," Leon replied. Claire started. "What? It's warm, it's a short hop to Australia, and they speak English."
"You're… taking me… to Micronesia?" she pulled him to a stop.
"Is there a problem with that?" Leon asked. "Would you rather I took you to Hawaii? There's still clean up there. And-"
"Ok, I get your point," Claire said. She motioned with her head to the seats across from where she'd stopped their walking, and they sat down. Leon tried not to notice that he still had his arm around her, but it was kind of hard… Claire leaned back against the seat. "Tell me we don't have a long wait," she breathed out.
"Twenty minutes or so," Leon said, glancing at her. "Even secret agents have to be early."
"Or late," Claire chuckled.
"Did you two break up in the airport?" Leon asked softly.
Claire nodded without saying anything. The sound of the airport rushed in around them, and Leon felt awkward. He looked away, trying to quell the annoyed, jealous feelings in his chest that came any time she mentioned some other man. It wasn't the easiest thing to do. He-
"Let's talk about something else," Claire said. She blew air at her bangs, and turned her head to look at him. He could feel it rolling on his arm. "Why did they put you on R&R?"
"SOP," he replied, still feeling annoyed. Across from them, a little old lady was wrestling with an agitated dog in a carrier. He focused on that, and tried to let go of his jealousy.
An annoyed noise came out of her, and Leon spared her a glance. "Maybe I should be taking you somewhere cold."
"Claire."
"I hear Norway's in the right latitude."
Leon couldn't help but laugh at that. Back to Norway? Not a chance. Once in Bergen was more than enough for his taste. "What's funny?" Claire's voice was still annoyed.
"I just got back from Norway," Leon said. He squeezed the arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. "Bad memories."
She stilled a little against him, lifting a hand to rest against his chest. It was amazingly intimate, or at least it must look that way to passers-by, Leon thought. "Are you well enough to go on vacation?" she asked, blue eyes concerned.
"I've had my usual dose of vaccines, Daylight only one of them," Leon assured her.
He was surprised when Claire's hand tightened in his shirt. "Is that why you're so pale?"
"No, that would be the near-drowning. Tell Chris to train his subs better, one of the rooks shot the wrong struggling body."
There was silence a moment. He wondered if he'd annoyed Claire with it… if she was going to pull away. He really didn't want that. He rather liked holding her. "You know I really don't follow," Claire said in a weary voice that ached with frustration.
For a moment, he pondered that, and then he shifted, tugging the collar of his t-shirt away from the bandaged bullet wound on his shoulder. Claire shifted in the curve of the arm still around her shoulders and leaned over to touch the gauze pad with her fingers. It stung, dully, and Leon knew that the pain medication hadn't really made up for carrying the luggage for her. He'd never tell her that, of course. He let go of his collar, but she kept it tugged to the side. Her fingers lingered there, smoothing over the gauze, and she looked at him.
"It's the same…"
Leon nodded. It was his left shoulder, again. "Not a lot of the locals turned, but one who did cornered me on the docks. The BSAA had arrived as backup at that point, but…"
Claire slid her hand across his collarbone, eyes narrowing slightly, there was another set of gauze on that side. "You were bitten." In response, he nodded. Claire put her head against his shoulder, gently, and sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Hopefully," Leon paused. He wasn't about to say to her what he hoped she'd do with him. "Take a break?"
"You sure that's all?" Claire must have noticed his pause. She chuckled softly, trying to settle closer to him. Her carry-on was against the hip that was trying to get closer, however. Narrowing his eyes at it, Leon scooped it up and deposited it on the far side of her.
Claire settled against him, resting, lost in her own thoughts, until they had to move to the gate. Leon just enjoyed having her warmth against him until he had to let go so they could board the plane. The dull ache in his shoulders seemed to fade with the heat of her against him, even the weight of her head on the bite marks was less painful than when he touched them. Thankfully, for his usually mild paranoia, they boarded without mishap.
He'd decided on warmth because he knew that he shouldn't rip her clothes off. But he could see her in as few of them as possible. It was priggish. A part of his mind laughed at him. Given their behavior, it was a silly sort of thing to be worried about. It was a bit lecherous, but he had to allow himself little things in his life. Little things were 'normal'. Angela had argued that he didn't, but she didn't know him anywhere near as well as Claire did. Despite the sex, she just didn't get him the right way. They were compatible, just of… a different mind set.
He hoped they always would be. Let Harvardville be the depth of Angela's nightmare, let it die with her brother's sacrifice to save her. Let that be the most of her pain. Unlike him and Claire, he hoped she could bounce back.
The plane ride would be long, but it was good. Claire, tired from her ever-present emotions or maybe from her constant government studies, fell asleep beside him as soon as they settled into their first class seats. It was good, even though he wished she were leaning against him like in the terminal. Either way, he got to watch her sleep, and reassure himself that she was there. It still felt a little surreal.
The stewardess came by and offered him a drink and a pillow, but he shook his head. Despite Claire's soothing proximity, despite leaving the country and the responsibility of the office behind, he just wasn't comfortable enough to try sleeping. "Anything, sir?" the stewardess offered.
Leon turned his eyes to Claire. "A blanket."
The stewardess returned with it, and Leon covered Claire. She stirred lightly, but made no indication that she was truly awake. He leaned his seat backwards and turned his head to watch her. His mind wandered, slightly, to Angela's reaction to his last healthy return to D.C. After coming back from the Ukraine he'd been healthy, for once. That was before the breakup.
If he was nursing Claire's fragile heart back from a breakup, he'd better be sure he was over his own.
He had called Angela as soon as he knew that he would be in town long enough to make calling worthwhile. He could still remember her words. She'd agreed to come visit, and he'd asked if she was excited. Her reply was an almost forlorn, "It's hard to be excited about someone you never see, Leon." And then he'd been sent straight back out into the field. To China, that time. On that return trip, Hunnigan had simply beaten him to the punch by informing Angela of his condition beforehand. The truth stung. Her words burned, mostly because they were true. He knew it was true. It didn't change that the only person he called consistently, the only woman he called consistently, regardless of location, was Claire.
He should've seen the end with Angela coming sooner, he knew.
Maybe Claire was as obtuse as he was in regards to relationships, because half the time she called, she was coming out of a breakup. It annoyed her, it frustrated her. Leon would be inclined to leave her to her obtuseness, to her normal life with its normal problems, if she didn't routinely end up in the middle of outbreaks of B.O.W.s.
Claire shifted a little, one hand flopping out of the blanket. Leon made a move to put it back in the blanket, but settled for taking it in his own. She made a soft noise and shifted a little.
When he was with Angela, his phone got in the way. Sometimes it was work, a lot of times it was work, but sometimes it was Claire. Not that he and Claire were in constant contact. It was monthly, sometimes bi-monthly, but sometimes the conversation lasted for hours. Angela never mentioned that she envied him always answering. Angela never called him to be answered in a tight spot, but she also never said anything aloud about her opinion of his phone habits.
Leon tilted his head towards the roof of the cabin and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the stewardess was standing beside their seats. "Sir, I'm sorry, but you and your wife really have to put your seats up for landing."
He nodded, and glanced to the side. Claire was awake, staring at him. She reached over and lifted her seat back before he lifted his, and the two of them stared. After a moment, when the flight attendant had left them, she thumped their joined hands on the armrest between them. "I didn't know we were at hand holding, Leon."
"Well, you are my wife, after all. I've got some rights." He put his seat in the upright position.
"Keep thinking that," Claire said. She shifted, putting her head against the back of the seat to stare straight ahead.
"If you say so," he replied, still holding onto her hand. "I'm happy to do that for you."
The plane began its descent, and the touch down came close enough that there wasn't any need for more talking. As they were disembarking, Claire smiled at him. "So this is Micronesia…"
"It's better than freezing while I'm recuperating," Leon said. He took her carry on as they exited into the airport, and led the way to the baggage claim.
"You're so selfish, Leon," Claire said.
He looked at her. He couldn't deny that. "This from the person mooching a free vacation."
The two of them collected their luggage and headed out of the airport. Claire had left one bag in his trunk at the airport, so between them there were only two checked bags and her light carry-on. The sun was bright, and she shielded her eyes. "Come on, let's get a taxi," Leon said, enjoying the warmth that circled around them. He lifted a hand as they got to the edge of the curb and a taxi came towards them.
"What, no chartered car?" Claire asked. "You must really be slumming, Leon."
He gave her a sidelong look as the taxi he hailed came closer. The drive climbed out and began loading their things. "I'm trying for normal," Leon said, turning his eyes to her, "remember?"
Claire smiled at that. "So next day trips to… wherever we are is 'normal'?"
"Micronesia," Leon reminded her. "Welcome to Milena." He smiled at Claire, and then chuckled. "Well, you're right there. Maybe it's not normal, but being with you at least makes me feel human."
"I'm far from normal."
Leon hated when she talked like that. The breakup must have been a little more disappointing or painful than normal. He leaned closer to her. "You're normal to me." While she was blinking at that, he opened the back door of the cab for her. "Come on."
*