RE: Inclination

A/N: Return.

May 2006

Once he'd calmed down a little, Leon started to use the water coming out of the shower head to wash the day off. He carefully peeled both of the bandages from his shoulders, leaning out of the shower enough to check the wounds before getting them wet. The bullet wound was, surprisingly, the less painful of the two. Leon wondered if he was a masochist. He liked the bullet wounds, at least. He hated bites.

The damn things were always painful for months, even once they healed over. At one point, sometime after he'd started working for DeKay, which meant it was probably in 2003 or 2004, he'd been briefed on the way that Daylight worked against the T-virus. It had been a lot of science talk, and Leon understood it, but they really shouldn't have been giving him that sort of a dissertation on the brilliance of the improvements on the vaccine while he was preparing for a mission. It was only with careful review afterwards that he truly took the time to understand what Daylight did.

It was complicated, scientific, and he didn't think about that sort of information much except when he was trying to not think about something else. Like the virus it had two affects. The first was what Leon was undergoing currently, or what he was finishing from his Norway vaccination in April, was a halt to the progress of the virus's infection. Usually Leon associated this part with being somewhat lethargic, light-sensitive, and stiff.

Thankfully, all that was wearing off. It was part of the reason he'd arranged to come to Milena. He'd always liked the idea of Micronesia, even though he never visited before. The warm and the sun weren't bothering him nearly as much as he'd anticipated, which means he must be moving into the second portion.

After halting the progression of the infection, the vaccine, almost like another virus, broke down the remnants of the virus in all the places a thing like that hid. In earlier versions of the vaccine, apparently, the cleaning done did not sweep through the tendons and joints. There had even been a few cases of eventual reversion to infection.

Leon did not like the way they termed it. Reversion.

It couldn't be the same Townland, the lighter tone of Leon's mental voice thought. He frowned as the shower water cascaded over him. Hearing that name, on top of the plane that buzzed the island during dinner… the coincidences had killed the part of him that was luxurious enough to desire Claire's body in the way he always desired her companionship otherwise.

The name wasn't so common though. Townland. If it was Demetri Townland, they would be leaving the hotel, if not the island altogether. Leon didn't want Claire within a thousand miles of that man. She had rotten luck when it came to outbreaks, even though he seemed to have worse luck with infections. It was hard to gauge his luck in regards to outbreaks. He went willingly into them. It was Leon's job, but Townland was… dangerous. And dangerous things seemed to happen around him.

If this ruined the vacation… their vacation…

Leon frowned, turning off the shower. Toweling off, he paused to take care of his bandaged areas. The stitches in his left shoulder looked annoyed, but still healthy. The bite mark… Leon pressed it with a finger, and it throbbed. With a sigh, he headed out of the polished marble shower area into the main area of the bathroom, finding a towel and drying off. He sucked in a breath and took a look around before he realized he'd retreated to the bathroom without bringing new bandages with him.

Accepting his own lack of foresight in the face of aggravation and shock, Leon left the bathroom and headed into the main room. He was unsurprised to find Claire was out on the balcony. "Are you done with the shower?" she called into the room. "I'll use it then."

He nodded, and she headed in towards the shower, as though she could sense his answer without needing to see it. He took the hotel phone in hand, tied the towel at his waist, and then thought better of that. He went to his suitcase and put on a decent pair of pants. He dialed the front desk while he listened to Claire in the shower, and put on his shoulder holster. It made him feel better.

While he waited for the phone to pick up, he scooped the necessary medical supplies from his bag and sat to begin administering to himself.

"Front desk," a cheerful woman's voice said.

"This is the guest in room twelve-oh-seven. I just had a room service delivery I didn't order, and-"

"We're terribly sorry about that, sir, we'll do our best to keep it from happening again-"

"The hotel worker who delivered it said it was for Mr. Townland. Would that be a Mr. Demetri Townland?"

There was silence on the line, and then the noise of transfer. That was odd. It had been years since Leon had heard that noise on any phone line outside of ones that were being tapped. Leon lifted his eyebrows at that, but waited it out. Another voice picked up the line. "I believe you were inquiring after another of our guests, sir?"

"I don't believe I was talking to you about it," Leon replied.

"We consider the matter of each individual guest's privacy to be our utmost concern, and while we appreciate your interest, we are unable to answer your request."

"Well then, I appreciate your time." Leon hung up the phone and went for his cell phone. If anyone knew something, it would be Ingrid Hunnigan. The phone rang once, and it was answered. The door to the bathroom opened, and Claire came out, toweling her hair. "Hunnigan, I need you to check something for me."

"Leon, you're supposed to be on vacation."

"I'd like to be on vacation, for once," he said, watching Claire as she headed to her suitcase. She was ignoring him.

He noticed.

"That's a change from normal. What happened? So you did finally get some decent company?"

"You could say that," Leon said. "Find the current whereabouts of Demetri Townland."

"Townland? That's a name I haven't heard in a few months. What brings him up? Are you after a revenge match for the newest scars?"

Leon found his eyes drawn to Claire on the far side of the room. She didn't turn his way, but her actions weren't the least bit self-conscious. "Room service. Call me back when you've got something." He hung up the phone. "Claire… we may have to relocate."

"You don't like the room?" Claire was pulling on a pair of shorts with her back to him. She shrugged out of the robe and looked for her t-shirt to pull on.

His eyes watched her motion, and he felt the usual calm spread into him that came from watching her. It was a newfound feeling, but he liked it. "It's not that, the room is as good as the company, if we have one too many beds in it." She snorted at that. "But Townland…"

"Worry about it tomorrow, Leon," Claire said, tugging back the undisturbed covers on the other bed. She sat down and slid her legs between the sheets. "Do me a favor? If you're going to be up long, sleep in the other bed."

"And if I'm not?" Leon asked, arching a brow slightly. The phone was hung up. He didn't want to sleep in an empty bed, given an option, especially this one. He wondered if the feeling of calm would intensify the closer he got to her.

"Then don't plan to get up to answer your phone."

"I think I can do that," Leon said. He put the phone's profile on vibrate and stepped across the room. Undoing his pants again, he slid into the sheets behind her, putting an arm around her waist.

Claire shifted a little at that, settling into him. Leon hadn't quite finished with bandaging himself, and her hair pressed against the mark on his shoulder. He bit back the hiss that threatened.

Leon waited for her reaction. For a flash of annoyance.

"You didn't finish bandaging up." It was a statement rather than a question. "Do you want me to…"

He hadn't thought about that.

"I mean I know you think I'm pretty terrible at bandaging you up…"

"I'd like it if you did."