RE: Inclination

A/N: Still sick. Still behind. Sorry for this week's delay.

May 2006

The two of them descended from the hangar roof into the alley on the far side. From the roof it had been easy to see the best route to the docks. They headed down the alley, and when they got to the end of that row, they carefully made their way across to the shells used for dockside storage. After the drained feeling the sun had caused the two of them, and Claire did admit she'd felt drained by the time they'd entered their shaded napping spot, they did their best to stick to the shaded areas…which meant the alleys.

It was a good thing Leon was leading, his accurate sense of direction was essential to navigating their way to the docks. The last of the alleys Leon had chosen lead them to a small alcove next to a cinderblock wall. Claire took a quick peak out before Leon dragged her back. The area beyond their corner had zombies shuffling in it. A lot of them. So many that it was hard to see what was beyond them. Leon stood in front of her and leaned out more cautiously, but Claire knew he wouldn't be able to see more than she had when she'd peeked out. She glanced down the alley they were in, and noticed crates up against the wall a short distance away. She touched his elbow before moving to climb up onto them. She boosted herself to the wall, and balanced on it.

"What can you see?" he asked. He climbed up onto the crates, but remained on the ground. She knew why. Of the two of them, she was the more stable on small places, the more graceful. Especially with the wounds he had started the vacation with. For that Claire knew she had to thank her brother for bullying her into dance classes as a kid.

"We need to go out the end of this alley and then head straight across those roofs." She frowned, lifting the police rifle she'd retained, and fired off a shot at some birds that were swarming on a corpse. The zombies below turned towards the noise. "It's better if we're up high."

Leon made a grunting noise, and then he was up behind her. "You're the one with the sunglasses," he said.

She chuckled softly and got up to a crouch, moving forward along the wall carefully. From the corner, she lead the way in a leap to the nearest of the boat storage units. After she scrambled up, Leon followed.

The metal roofs passed by as they jogged down them, leaping across when they had to, until they reached the end of the outlying buildings. There was a small sea of boats tied up. Apparently the boats hadn't been in use when the outbreak happened. That made sense, as the outbreak had started at night.

Claire scanned the boats floating, but could not tell one from another. She glanced at Leon.

He glanced at her, and she shrugged when it seemed he was looking for some sort of opinion from her. "Hey, afloat is afloat to me. I'm a wheel user, not a fishing enthusiast."

Leon chuckled and motioned her to follow him. He headed down the dock, sighting in front of them. Claire followed a step behind. Thankfully the food had replenished her energy, and the nap had certainly helped. She was starting to feel refreshed from the exercise, despite the situation. The pain in her side was still there, of course, but not nearly as blinding as before.

"This one looks good."

She came to a stop behind him, and he glanced distrustfully at the water. "Leon?"

"I'll tell you during that long boring to death session when we're off the island, it's a memory from Spain," he murmured. Then resolutely, as though he were dismissing the memory and the possibility of danger with it, he turned his back on the water and lifted his gun towards the boat.

The boat rocked a little on the water as they stepped onboard. Claire winced as she did that, glancing behind her. The dock was so silent it was disturbing. "We'll need to check for fuel first," Leon said at her side. "There," he pointed towards the steering section, slightly raised from them. "Let's check the log."

The pair of them had stepped over the railing onto the front of the speed boat. They trailed around to the back where the entrance was, and Leon tucked his gun away to climb up to the steering section.

"It's a nice… speed boat, I guess… what kind of fuel do you think it takes?" Claire asked, feeling the need to make some sort of small talk in the face of how quiet and professional Leon seemed to have gotten since they left the hangar.

"Even I know this is considered a yacht, Claire," Leon said, leaning back to smile down at her.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, but his words were good. Leon joking and reassuring, Leon being human instead of an agent was comforting. The sun was sinking down towards the water, and a chill wind blew towards them from the sea. Leon was flipping through the console, looking at the logs. Claire turned her attention to the rest of the boat. Yacht, speed boat, she didn't really care if it was a pontoon if it could get them off the island and away to safety.

Her stomach started to protest, likely from all the sugar and unnatural food she'd been eating since being stabbed by that wall of glass. Claire made a low noise and leaned against the metal ladder Leon had used to get up to the cockpit… that was an ok word to use for it, right?

His head popped back over the edge of the deck above, and he looked down at her with a concerned look on his face. "Hey, you ok?"

"Ugh… too many twinkies," Claire replied. Her stomach protested and Claire doubled over forward, one arm pressing across it.

Leon hopped down next to her, forgoing the stairs and landing lightly on the balls of his feet, and lifted a hand to her cheek. "Let's check the interior of the boat… we're fueled up, looks like…"

"Which means whoever owns the boat is either waiting inside or they're on the island somewhere," Claire got out, leaning her cheek into his hand. She didn't want to feel like this… weak like this. She wanted to be bouncy. But it was like having cramps. She closed her eyes, groaning softly.

"Hey."

Claire endeavored to open her eyes, and she met Leon's for a moment before their lips pressed together. His lips were firm, and warm. She was surprised at his actions. At first she thought that would make it worse… to be…

But the brush of his lips seemed to quell the protest in her stomach.

When the kiss ended, Claire felt herself smiling, and a slight blush was on her cheeks. "Much better," he said. "I like you pink instead of green."

"Get off," Claire said, shoving him gently. "It's not my fault I don't have your iron stomach."

Leon straightened, cocking his head at her statement, and waited for her to rise. When she did, he lifted his gun and took a step towards the dark glass panels that lead towards the interior. He tried the knob, but nothing. He leaned back to place a swift kick on it when Claire put a hand on his shoulder.

"We may want that to latch again," she said. "Lemme try."

It took a few moments, and a little ingenuity. She didn't have anything she'd call a standard lock pick set with her, instead she had the file Leon used in the police munitions room and a hairpin that she always stuck in her back pocket.

The whole time, Leon stood behind her, sighting at the door. She wondered if he was being overly cautious, until the door clicked open, and she tugged on it. One of the owners, very obviously dead for hours and locked inside, stumbled out towards her. Claire slid backwards, reaching for her gun, just as the creature's head exploded in a cloud of blood and living matter.

"Thanks, Le-" Claire started, but dodged to the side as the second occupant lurched forward. This time her gun was faster, and she shot twice at the creature's head. A similar puff of blood, brains, and skull matter took care of him.

"I could comment on the irony of who we each just shot, but I won't." Instead, Leon stepped over the bodies in the entranceway. Claire followed him into the interior of the ship, and was pleased to find that it wasn't very damaged by the creatures that had turned inside it. There was less of the smell inside… they hadn't been exposed to the sunlight.

After they were certain the interior of the ship was empty and secure, Claire headed to the galley to inspect its contents. Leon headed over for the entrance and began dragging the corpses they'd created from the ship.

"So we've got enough fuel, but we still need water," Claire called out to him. "And we're going to have to bleach the place to get the smell out before we go, or I may end up too sick to be of much use."

Leon was quiet as she talked, bent over the corpses on the rear deck of the ship where he'd dragged them. He was searching for something on them… the keys, Claire figured. "Yeah…" he said absently. Then he found what he was looking for, because he shoved the headless bodies into the darkening water at the back of the boat.

After he was done, Leon wiped his hands on the deck and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him. He crossed to the cabinets and started opening them, searching. The silent agent was back.

"Hey," Claire said.

"I don't want you to have to suffer through the smell," he said absently.

"Suffer through the- what are you talking about?"

He stopped, leveling his hazel gaze at her, and she paused her complaints. "I'm going to go get water. And then we're leaving."

"And you expect me to stay here?"

"No, I don't expect it, but I'd like you to." He sighed, turning back to the cabinets. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He jerked the container of bleach out of the cabinet and grabbed a rag from the same set of cleaning supplies. "We're neither of us in very good shape, and it worries me to do it, but…" he began sloshing the bleach onto the area where the bodies had been dragged out. The sharp scent of chemical clean filled the room easily. "I want you to rest, but all I can do is ask."

Claire watched him, contemplating that. Her stomach had settled when she'd gotten her spirits back up, but… the blood loss, the heat, the sun… The running. It was taking its toll on her.

She watched Leon. The way his muscles moved, the way he was so intent on what he was doing.

Crouching behind him, she put her arms around him, and leaned against his back. His usual scent was overpowered by the bleach, but the warmth of his body was still reassuring. Leon paused in what he was working on, glancing over his shoulder at the top of her head. "And you?" she asked. "If you're not in good shape either… what about you? You go off for water and come back with a fresh set of bite marks or … worse…"

"That's why I said I was only asking," Leon said.

"You said it yourself, Leon. We're better… no, we're best together. Let's finish up this bleaching, and then we'll go find water." Claire sat back, letting him continue his work.

He nodded, and then took a deep breath. Somehow he didn't seem to choke on the chemical smell. "Besides, I rarely have a problem with fatigue… not when I have something to solve." Leon moved forward, sloshing bleach and mopping the area with the rag afterwards.

"To solve?" Claire asked, narrowing her eyes at the tone of his voice. "What-?"

She stopped talking, reaching to catch what Leon tossed towards her as he reached for a rag to start cleaning away the bleach. Snatching it out of the air, Claire was confused. Opening her hand, she realized that Leon had found the keys.

There was a TriCell logo on the keychain.

"Leon…"

"I know," he said, tossing the cloth into the water off the deck of the boat. "Let's get the water."

That didn't seem right. Something didn't mesh about all of this. "Leon, what's TriCell got to do with a vacation island in the South Pacific?"

"I'm not sure," Leon said, straightening. He released the mag on the H&K, checking the number of bullets. Apparently it was low, because he reached into his pocket and began reloading. "Would you rather find a way off the island or find that out?"

"We…" Claire's head moved quickly. So that was what was running through Leon's head – whether to investigate or run. She thought about it.

She thought about the blood tests that would be involved with investigating, just a moment. All those times when she had to sit around for a week while Rebecca ran the appropriate tests to make sure that none of them had caught anything dangerous… the fear that crept into her stomach the longer it took the young doctor to get the results back, the fear it took waiting on any doctor to get the results back. Harvardville was no exception to the fear she'd felt. But no, she and Leon seemed very good at not getting themselves infected. They got shot and otherwise turned into casualties on occasion, but never infected.

And then, like always when she started to think more about herself than about finding out the truth and stopping the things that were being done that were wrong, Claire's mind recalled Sherry.

The girl had been twelve in Raccoon City… how many years had it been? How old would she be now?

Claire had not previously considered herself to be much of a mother figure… so the fierce protectiveness she felt about Sherry… the way she still felt about Sherry was a shock. It had become more normal since then… more acceptable. Claire wasn't a teenager anymore, she was an adult and… now for whatever reason it was ok to be maternal.

But that wasn't the most pressing thing to think of. Claire pulled her mind back to the present. To the keychain in her hand and the dark cloud that had surrounded the island vacation she was supposed to be on.

"Neither of us are much for the easy escape, Leon," she said, shaking her head. "Not now." Her voice was harder than she was prepared for as she said it. Leon snapped the magazine back into the H&K. She looked up at him.

He nodded. "In that case, let's take a closer look at the log."