RE: Inclination

A/N: …grant me serenity… so sick. So much work to do.

May 2006

A sour quiet fell over the two of them after that.

Claire lead the way then, which was good, because Leon felt dehydrated on top of the cranky. She got them into one of the metal hangars where the boats were kept in the off-season by taking the butt of her shotgun to the lock that kept it secured. A little scouting revealed that they were, at the least, without zombies in the closed up building. Suddenly he was too tired to care about being angry. "We'll probably have to go back out the roof when we leave," he said, flopping down on a pile of fishing nets. It reeked of year old, dried fish guts, but at the very least he wasn't standing.

And it was a scent preferable to that of the creatures dead and shambling outside.

She stayed on her feet, surveying him. "Let me see what I can find. Maybe there's a canteen or something."

Leon nodded and moved to get up. His lips felt chapped, and the back of his throat was dry. He was quickly getting dehydrated, and he knew it. The medication he'd finished at the hospital was prone to doing that. He hadn't thought before he booked the vacation…

The butt of Claire's shotgun touched his shoulder and she pushed him back down onto the netting. There was something strangely appropriate about Claire bossing him around with a shotgun. In another circumstance…

Well. Leon really hadn't thought. He'd booked the trip in a few hours the night before they left. Claire leaned down to check his face, and frowned a little. "You're sunburned. Thirsty?"

"Probably. I bet you are too." He reached up and took her sunglasses off. With his body able to relax like it was, he found he was still annoyed at her calling him emo. It reminded him of… "It's warm in here, don't push too hard."

"I'll be fine… but if you're worried… Come on, old man," she said, taking him by the arm and helping him to right himself. "I'll prop you up on the edge of this and you can keep an eye out for me. Provided you're not going to pass out this time. Of course, it is your turn, but if you're going to do that, I'd rather you didn't plunge off the landing to the main floor."

"I'll be fine," Leon said, assuring her.

Claire positioned him and descended. He watched nervously while she was searching the office and the boats. Outside, the moaning occasionally came through the walls, or a thud from where the infected ran into the building. Occasionally there was the rhythmic thumping against the door that suggested outside was infested with the infection. But for the moment, they were safe, it seemed. The air in the hangar was hot and stale, but the staleness only smelled slightly fishy rather than the reek of rancidness that came from the sweaty infected. Claire climbed back up onto the raised storage platform they had entered onto and sat to show him her spoils.

Two canteens, one smaller than the other, a first aide kit, some energy bars that were a little out dated, and a flashlight. Leon gratefully accepted one of the canteens, drinking from it greedily before he offered it back to her. Claire lifted her hands. "I drank from the tap downstairs."

Leon glanced up at the roof vent they had entered through. The light was still strong where it filtered through. "I think," he started. "That if you eat some more, it should be fine to take a nap for a while."

Her blue eyes regarded him suspiciously. "Is that for my sake or for yours?" she asked.

"Both," Leon admitted with a little yawn. He was too worn out to argue the point. Over the course of lying watchful over her search, he'd grown weary. Too much tension… too much vigilance, and too much heat. A little rest wouldn't kill either of them. It might, actually, go a long way to saving them.

"Since you're being honest about it, I don't see any reason why not," Claire said.

She helped him up, strange that they were both a little worse for the wear by that point, and they returned to the dried out nets. Leon leaned back into them gratefully, and Claire sat beside him, opening one of the ration bars.

"So… you wanna tell me why you bit my head off when I called you emo?" she asked, chewing the energy bar loudly. Claire did that when she felt nervous about something, or when she was annoyed and trying to get back at the speaker. She was a terror with bubble gum. Who was the idiot…?

Mauro.

Right.

"I mean it," Claire said, poking him in the arm.

"I hate it, ok?"

"Obviously," Claire replied. She stuffed a piece of the energy bar into his mouth. "But why?"

Chewing, Leon thought to himself. What was the best way to phrase what he wanted to say? Hmm… "Remember when… what was that guy you dated… Mauro something?"

"Mauro Tilton," Claire replied, a little venom in her tone.

"Yeah, that one. You know how he always used to call you 'babydoll'? And how you hated it?"

"Wouldn't you? We met over a barfight that I won, and he called me that!" She shook her head, taking a vicious bite of her energy bar.

"That's kind of how I feel about being called 'emo'."

"I'll give you that, but you at least have to tell me who made you so pissed about it," Claire said. She offered up the end of the energy bar to him, but he declined it.

"It's… a terrible office nickname one of the other senior ops gave me. Mack calls me the Emo Office Ken Doll."

Claire was very good about trying not to laugh too hard. Leon gave her that, but he completely expected her to anyway. After a moment of fighting it, she gave up and giggled. "Oh come on, that's an adorable nickname."

"Right." Sighing, Leon shifted to tuck his H&K into his holster before taking another swig of water from the canteen Claire had brought him. He leaned back to settle down, letting Claire snicker all she liked. "I'm taking that nap."

To her credit, it was only another moment before she stopped. He could smell her through the sweat on her and over the old, musty scent of fish from the pile of nets as she leaned down next to him, and Claire settled against his side like he expected. Once she was settled he fell asleep almost before his eyes closed the next time he blinked.

He wasn't sure what woke him. Claire was settled down next to him, leaning against him trustingly with an arm around his middle, but that only put him into a deeper sleep. No… something… Leon listened, perking his ears for the sound of something relating to the T-virus infection or any other type of outbreak he'd been on hand at. A squeal, a shriek… a hiss… a moan… there was nothing. His skin felt dry, but that was no reason…

Then his pocket vibrated again.

Claire shifted, her hip was against his. She mumbled something sleepily.

Leon didn't comment, reaching into his pocket to take out his phone. He'd sent a short burst to Hunnigan before they left the hotel, but the signal was low, and he wasn't sure it had gone through. He hit the talk button. "Hunnigan?"

"Were you expecting someone else to call, Agent Kennedy?" Hunnigan's voice asked. "Someone you already killed perhaps? I'd like to think the communication network has been more secured in the last two years."

"If you say so."

"What's your status?"

"Heat stroke, waiting out the sunlight to continue towards the docks where we'll hijack a ship and make it out to civilization."

"And Townland?"

"We had him at the hotel, but he separated from us in the midst of a crowd of approaching zombies. Presumed dead."

"How many survivors are with you currently?"

"Just the one."

Hunnigan's typing was swift, he could hear it over the line. "There're two BSAA units inbound to the island. The first unit's ETA is about two hours."

"Good to know there's backup on the way."

"I thought you weren't fond of that particular type of backup."

"Yeah, well, at least they have guns." Leon pressed his lips together at that. It was sourness over his last experience involving the BSAA and the rookie that had gotten him bitten. He glanced down at Claire, and knew what her first question would be. "What about other survivors?"

"The BSAA will make a thorough sweep of the island before the marines are deployed to suppress the infection."

Something about that didn't sound right, but there wasn't a lot to be done about it, just then. "Understood, Hunnigan."

The phone transmission ended. Leon leaned back against the netting. Claire shifted closer to him, resting her cheek on his arm as she had before he moved, and he pursed his lips. They were so close to the dock… it wouldn't be hard. Gently, he shrugged his shoulder to try and wake Claire. She shifted slightly, groaning a bit, and put a hand over her side.

"Was that your phone?" she asked softly as she sat up.

"It was. The government is dispatching the BSAA to deal with this incident. The first team will be arriving in two hours to head marines…"

Claire seemed to ponder that, and nodded. "So we should be… somewhere else by then?"

Leon made a noise in his throat. It didn't sit right with him… he wasn't used to strategic retreat from this sort of situation. He normally had some goal during an outbreak that had nothing to do with his own safety. He had a rescue or an information acquisition to do… never… just escape.

Beside him, Claire looked up at the vent in the ceiling and nodded.

Maybe it was a rescue of sorts, Leon thought, but it rarely occurred to him to think of Claire as a survivor in need of saving. Well, when she wasn't trapped by Umbrella, anyway. Hunnigan was probably right. It was best to worry about their own safety.

They rose, both of them stiff, and Leon took a moment to stretch. His muscles, aside from those in his upper back that were struggling to compensate for the still-healing wounds near his neck, didn't feel bad, just well-used. Observing Claire, he didn't seem to notice anything too strained about her movements.

Leon made ready to push the hatch open so they could make their way out onto the roof in the late afternoon heat, gun at the ready. Claire stood back from the hatch a little, holding the Glock pointed towards the opening. The chances were slim that there was anything undead shambling along the rooftop, but he appreciated the better safe than sorry route. He'd been sorry, and he hated what he had to puke up when he was on the vaccine.

A swift jerk of his shoulder popped the hatch, and the two of them climbed out.

The first thing that greeted them as they exited into the afternoon was the rushing of wings against the air. The noise was loud, but the screeching that came with them was louder. Leon stood next to the hatch as Claire climbed out, and as the birds swooped down the two of them dove forward. Leon's motion took him onto his back, and he fired into the flock of them that were circling, sliding down the curved metal roof of the storage hangar. Beside him Claire went headfirst.

At the edge, she grabbed him by the arm to keep him from going over.

The birds didn't follow, choosing other targets instead. Leon looked over at Claire and offered her a grateful smile.

"Yeah yeah," she said with a smile in return, "let's get moving already."