RE: Inclination

A/N: Return, again. There's been a lot of… heavy lately. I apologize for the delay between postings. Thank you all for sticking with the story.

May 2006

The phone had rung in the night, but Claire noticed it only in passing before falling back asleep. Leon didn't move to answer it, just like he promised. Claire slept deeper like that, even after the small aside that they had taken before really getting into bed to get Leon's bandages finished.

Of course that had the potential of being comical, as Leon apparently had decided to sleep commando. Claire had no complaints. She tried to keep her ogling from being too obvious. Leon hadn't bothered to comment, but had sat down, like a good patient, and kept his eyes closed while she worked.

In bed, Leon's arm was warm, and she was surprised at how comforting it was to have someone next to her like that. She hadn't expected to sleep so rock-like. Normally she felt suffocated. Once or twice it had made her take the knife back to bed with her. One of those times, she'd actually needed it, for non-zombie reasons. The morning sunlight broke through clouds, and it was that light that roused her. Neither of them had drawn the shades over the window, and Leon was turned slightly, head tipped back on the pillow.

His hand was tucked under her arm, palm against her rib cage. His thumb was pressing into the underside of her breast. It was familiar, and very intimate. She was surprised at how little she minded it. The previous evening, he could have done a lot of things and she wouldn't have minded at all. Maybe he still could.

Even asleep Leon was quiet. He shifted, when she did, and she could somehow tell he was already awake by the time he settled against her.

"Hungry?" she asked softly.

"Horny, maybe," Leon said softly. "But breakfast is definitely in order."

"At least he's honest," she replied. Claire pushed Leon's arm off and got out of bed.

"First thing in the morning isn't your idea of a good time, then?" Leon asked, turning to look at her.

"You don't know the first thing about my idea of a good time," Claire replied, shaking her head. She gathered her hair in her hands and searched for a tie to pull it back. "Let me get dressed, then we can go down and have breakfast."

"I need to check my phone."

Claire flapped a hand at him, shaking her head as she headed into the bathroom. Of course he had to check his phone, he smelled danger. She splashed some water on her face and rethought skipping another shower. She looked at herself in the mirror.

Some of the dark circles were missing from under her eyes, she thought, she looked… A sharp rap on the door brought her back to the present. "Claire, I was right about last night, we need to go."

Jerking the door open, she frowned. "Why?"

"The man in twelve-oh-one is Demetri Townland." Leon's face was unimpressed, displeased. He was frowning, and he was dressed. Past him Claire could see that his suitcase was closed and packed, and he wasn't wearing his jacket, so she saw he was wearing his holster.

The name confounded Claire. It had been on the news a few months ago… six, maybe seven. Demetri Townland was connected to the most recent biohazard incidents in London and Tel Aviv. Not on the side of Umbrella's former researchers, but… still very suspicious. He'd been giving talks when they happened, so it couldn't be directly linked, but…

"There have been three outbreaks since he went under, all linked to locations involving Townland. If he's in paradise, I say you and I go to purgatory to avoid him."

Claire shivered at the thought.

Leon reached out and he took her by the arms. "I know, I really do, Claire. But change and pack. We'll take the next flight."

"See if I ever come on vacation with you again," Claire said, angrily. She crossed to where he had pulled her suitcase onto the bed and grabbed clothes to change into.

"I'll just have to find some other way to convince you to come with me… if you didn't enjoy last night."

"The half of it we had, you mean?" She was rewarded for her quip by seeing him wince. "It's not that, I just…"

"You can trust me, Claire."

Shirt stripped off her head, Claire hooked her bra closed behind her back, and turned to look at him. "I've always trusted you, Leon. I just don't… I… I don't want you to turn out like Chris."

His face registered surprise at her accusation. "Like your brother? What do you mean?"

"He's gone all the time," she said, turning back to her suitcase. It had taken years and a lot of what she would consider bullshit therapists talk with various parties that knew both Redfields to come to that conclusion. It was hard to admit it aloud. Most of the time she pressed the thoughts down. She didn't need to think them. Not now, especially. Pants, she needed pants. Shorts, skirts, and heels were out of the question. A pair of jeans presented themselves, and she took them out, stripping out of her sleep shorts to put them on.

Leon was silent a long time, without a word to say on that.

But apparently the words wanted out of her. "I never know where he is, and then when I look for him I always end up… all these horrible things happen, and…"

"And you want to protect your brother, but he fights all the time." Leon's voice came from behind her, and she fastened her jeans without saying a word. This wasn't the way that she wanted Leon. She knew better, didn't she? She knew what Chris was capable of. What Leon was capable of. She shouldn't even be thinking about Leon like that… he was different than Chris, so much different, he was the wrong type to…

Two strong hands closed on her arms from behind. Bare as they were, the warmth of Leon's touch sank into her skin. An excited flutter affected her heartbeat, but after that passed, the warmth on her… the strength of his hands was reassuring. "Claire, you can only protect the people who let you. Some people you have to accept only being able to provide assistance to." She felt the warmth in them, the care. "Your brother and I had to learn to suppress the fear that comes with the outbreaks. With the confinement."

"You want me to be like you two?" Claire asked softly. She resisted the urge to let her head hang forward. It was seductive, the feeling that she could just do what she was told. Sometimes, like this one, she felt it would be easy to follow. To be weak and let someone hold her up. Not that she really thought that cutting herself off from her normal reactions would be weak. No, in contrast, it would probably be very difficult.

"I want you to be with me," Leon said, tightening his grip and pulled her back against him. "However you are." Leon's arms wrapped around her and he pulled her back against his chest. It felt good.

In that instant the questioning she was doing in her mind went away. Leon wasn't offering to let her be weak. He wasn't suggesting something like that. He wasn't the type to, not to her. "You keep saying exactly what I need to hear. It's so annoying."

"You'll get used to it," Leon said. "Maybe at some point you'll actually listen to what I tell you."

She laughed, softly.

Leon kissed her neck gently. "Now put on a shirt before I take advantage of you."

Dressing took a moment. Shirt, socks, shoes, and she was ready. Claire contemplated her suitcase, and Leon stood beside her. "Leave the suitcase," he said. "Too much will slow us down."

She turned to look at him. "This is my stuff, Leon."

"You won't need clothing for the rest of the vacation." Claire punched him in the arm. "What I meant was… I'll replace anything you leave behind."

She rolled her eyes and opened her suitcase, reaching for a small bundle in a toiletries bag. She transferred the toiletries bag to her carry-on satchel, along with a few items of more functional clothing. She snagged a sweatshirt and tied it around her waist, then a pair of sunglasses. She hefted the bag. "Alright, let's go."

"Take this."

Claire turned to look at Leon, and he held a gun out to her. She nodded, quietly, and tucked it into the back of her pants, covering it with the sweatshirt. "And airport security?" Come to think of it, she had no idea how Leon had managed to get guns through airport security to begin with. There had been some exchange of paperwork of some sort, but that was about all she had noticed before they'd headed straight into the terminal.

"We'll handle them when we get there," Leon said. "Come on."

The island seemed normal, as they took the taxi to the airport. The beaches were full, the streets had market sellers as well as tourists. But the two of them, seated in the back of the taxi, were quiet. The mood was darker than when they climbed aboard the plane. This, Claire thought, was why she and Leon S. Kennedy had absolutely no business vacationing together. It was why they had no business being together.

The thought made her chest hurt a little.

Claire chanced a look at him, and Leon was sitting, calm and relaxed, with his head looking over the seat in front of him. That last thought fled her mind, his image soothing her frazzled nerves. The pain went from a stab to a throb as she tried to reason with herself. It couldn't be so wrong, being with him, could it? It wasn't his fault the world was screwed up. The driver was just as quiet as Leon. It was annoying to be the only person who was so on edge. She drummed her fingers against the seat, tensing and looking out the window. Leon grasped her hand. She turned to look at him, but the same empty expression was on his face.

Twice the two of them had been working parallel in the same outbreak situation, almost without seeing one another's reactions. How many times had they been on different missions than that? She couldn't recall, but he had different training that she was not privy to, his expressions in this sort of situation were schooled. She didn't know what this expression of Leon's meant, even though she could read so many of them so easily. She didn't know what he was like in this case.

Maybe this look was what Leon anticipating things looked like. Maybe this was him focusing in preparation…

Her wondering occupied the space between the beach and the curve of road that headed up to the airport. At the airport, Leon released her hand and climbed out, rounded the car and opened her door. He waited for her to climb out before taking her hand again and heading for the terminal. Claire breathed a sigh of relief. They would soon be out of the danger zone. She threaded her fingers through his.

Leon led the way inside, up to the ticket counter. Claire let herself hang back slightly, standing just behind him while still holding his hand. She let her free hand grip the strap of her carry-on rather than putting it on her hip, as she might have otherwise. Too much adjusting and the gun would show. Claire listened around them for strange noises, for anything that would remind her of what she'd seen before. Of Raccoon City, the moaning and the scraping of feet. The terminal was filled with sounds, as before. Light came in through the windowed walls, even through the protective film she could tell was lining the windows. Just as it all had in Harvardville. There were people talking, and the noise of footsteps on the high ceilings. It bounced off the glass and came back at her. Her ears filtered out most everything, but the voice of the counter worker caught her when nothing else presented itself.

"I'm sorry, sir," the counter attendant said. "The outgoing flights are booked for the day. There's a few single, separate seats available on different airlines, but they have distant destinations. We can get you out tomorrow, unless the two of you would like to fly separately today."

Without looking back at her, Leon answered, and she knew it had something to do with their discussion previously, with what he'd said about… "We fly together."

He must feel the same, at least in regards to being separated. Thankfully, she could count on that much, at least. Her thoughts blocked out the response of the counter attendant. Her thoughts and the increased noise in the terminal as a group headed through the area from the baggage claim.

"We'll be back in the morning. Two seats on the first flight to Sydney." Leon exchanged some credit card information with the woman, and then he was leading Claire away. She let the airport pass away from her, taking its sounds with it, and kept herself close as he shouldered their way through the recently disembarked passengers pressed towards the door that would lead them out to the taxis.

"Sorry about that," Leon said. His voice was a rumble. He was displeased, she could tell. His hand held hers, and the grip of his fingers was strong and warm. It was a pleasant sensation. His hands weren't sweaty or weak. No, she thought to herself, remembering the previous evening, his hands weren't weak at all. She had never thought that a simple thing like that would be enough to calm her down the way it was. Leon would feel distant, she realized, if it weren't for the grip he had on her hand. She almost frowned. It was a little annoying that he was so good at calming her down. Was everything this easy for Kennedy?

No, it couldn't be. There was a tension in his back she could see as they moved slowly through the sea of people towards the door that had been absent previously. He was annoyed by something, or brought down from it. It was almost like there were storm clouds over him.

"You don't run the airlines, Leon," Claire replied, trying to feel chipper, given the circumstances. It wasn't hard. Maybe it would lighten the mood. That would be nice.

The two of them came to a stop on the inside of the exit, the glass doors before them were open and letting the warmth of the morning on the island into the airport. Jets of cool air tried to fight the heat, but the sun and the sand were making it too much. The perpetual summer of the island greeted Claire and she tried to get forward so she could make it out into the sun. The sounds were all normal. The tourists were all normal… the island would be gone the next day, and that had to be good enough just then. Claire figured she could let it be good enough, since Leon was doing so well at being nice. She started to push past Leon to lead the way outside.

Leon tightened his hand in hers and pulled her back, pressing their lips together. She was surprised, but at the same time relieved at the feel of the kiss. It was the same as the night before. No matter what anger he felt or what anxiety or preparedness, the taste of his kiss was the same. His desire for her, for closeness, was still there.

And it made her a little weak in the knees.

Nearby, a couple of teenagers giggled loudly and whistled.

Claire struggled not to blush, and failed. It was useless, really. Her body was becoming more and more attuned to Leon.

Leon seemed to manage whatever reaction he had to the lobby audience's enthusiasm better. He pulled back, brushing her cheek with his fingers, and said, "Let's go."

"What are we going to do with ourselves?"

"Maybe order our own room service tonight," Leon offered with a wink. He steered Claire out of the press of incoming travelers and down a sidewalk.

*