For lack of better word, the morning had been terrible.

Leon let the hard leather of his office chair groan loudly as he sat down. It wasn't the best or the most comfortable chair in the world, but it was better than the floor. The agent lazily glanced around his bland cubical. A small aloe plant in a pot sat alone in the corner beside his desktop. Set on the other side of his monitor was an empty paper tray. Leon still didn't know why he was required to keep it, for it was almost always empty. Besides his three small items, the desk was spotless. The corkboard to his right, however, was not. Newspaper articles, hastily written notes, printed-out criminal reports and forgotten scraps covered the entire surface. The agent had a fondness to keep track of his past subjects. Every suspect he had put into custody, every update on the Umbrella Corporation, and even small stories hinting at Raccoon city kept the corkboard company. Leon gave it a small glance before staring back at his desktop.

He had no idea what to do.

The ex-cop had been assigned two months of leave after his mandatory quarantine and debriefing. But, as dedicated as he was to his work, Leon refused to take this leave. His boss, Colonel Riggs, had pretty much used all the force he could to keep the persistent blonde out of his office, but it was to no avail. The only form of action, besides firing the agent, he could take was to assign him no work.

So he didn't.

And now in his lonely, boring, and ridiculously small cubicle, Leon was bored out of his mind. He knew he was going to get something to do soon because his 'leave time' was almost up. For now though, he had to wait and be insanely bored. The blonde slumped down on his desk and stared and the white wall of the cubicle. Slowly, his thoughts began to drift to the night before.

Leon shuddered as the scene replayed over and over in his head. Downing the alcohol. Feeling the faintest buzz so quickly. Looking to the balcony…

"Leon?" A small, concerned voice piped behind him. A small smile crept over his lips as he turned to see Ingrid Hunnigan standing in the small opening to his cubicle. She looked tired, a steaming mug of coffee gripped in her small hands. Dark circles occupied the skin beneath her eyes, blemishing her otherwise charming face. Her hair was pulled back into her trademark bun, but sloppily. She gave him a warm smile. "May I ask why you are again wasting your precious free-time to willingly come to Hell?" Ingrid raised one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows at the agent.

Leon laughed softy, "well Ingrid, I have absolutely nothing better to do than sit here and stare at my tiny little cubicle." He responded with his own smirk. She hung her head and shook it with a laugh.

"Oh, Mister Kennedy… you are such a busy man."

"Just bustling with errands, I know. I never have any time to myself." The two shared a hearty laugh and Ingrid slumped against the wall.

"You just know how to make my day, don't you?" She checked her watch and sighed. "Well, unlike some people here, I have work to do," she gave him a curt glance, "so I must bid you farewell." She turned to the hallway to carry on her business.

"Tally-ho then." Leon responded shortly and she was off. He listened to the clicking of her heels until they disappeared to the large office. He sighed heavily and spun back to the monotone desk of his. The agent simply stared at his feet and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

Long day ahead.

Leon let out a long, heavy yawn as he exited the restaurant. Bucket of steaming KFC tucked safely under his arm, he stood at the curb of the street for a few minutes. The agent observed the people roaming the streets, carrying out their normal lives. He sighed and shook his head as a group of giggling teenagers bustled past him. Leon honestly wished he could have a normal life back. The secret agent life wasn't all it was cracked up to be for him. Smelling his delicious-by-some-peoples'-standards chicken, he slowly trudged down the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment.

As he made the moderately long journey he began to ponder his job. After what had happened in Spain, Riggs was considering heavily on placing him in a different field. Leon wasn't sure of what to make of this. He had done his job rather well. Save the girl, kill the bad guy, come home and continue on as if nothing happened, right? Well, it didn't look as if it were going to turn out that way. The President surely wanted Leon to protect his daughter for the rest of his term and possibly the rest of the agent's career. But Riggs obviously thought differently. The blonde was too confused about his employers' views of things. This that, this then that. Blah blah blah.

Leon furrowed his eyebrows as the situation continued to fester in his mind. "Fuck it," he grumbled, hastily kicking a stone out of his way, "they tell me what to do. I just follow orders." The agent looked up to see he had arrived at his building and continued inside. He made his way quickly to the stairs, ignoring the poorly decorated and soggy smelling lobby.

Finally arriving at his floor, Leon shouldered the door open and began to fish for his keys. Successfully retrieving them, he continued down the slightly obnoxiously long hallway. He stopped abruptly in front of his door. The agents senses flared as footsteps emanated from the inside of his apartment. Silently placing his chicken down beside the door, he unholstered his pistol and cocked it just as quietly.

He could feel his heart pounding frantically in every inch of his body. Leon reached for the door handle slower than death, gripping the knob with a building anxiety. Soundlessly, he turned the knob and found it unlocked. In a flash he slammed the door open with his gun immediately pointed forward. Nothing. Leon cautiously made his way into the small area. The agent noticed the few doors were all opened. Room by room, he checked them all. No one was in the apartment. Holstering his gun he strode into the living room where Grindel was nonchalantly laying on one of the couches sleeping. He noticed something around the wolf dog's neck. Carefully approaching the animal, the ex-cop realized it was an envelope.

Leon curiously picked it up and untied the small bow off Grindel's collar. The Sheppard wagged his tail slightly and returned to his nap. The envelope was blank on the front, but as Leon turned is over, his heart skipped a beat. A small kiss of red lipstick adorned the seal. Leon took no hesitation to rip it open and retrieve the contents. A small letter was all it held.

Hello Handsome,

I just decided to drop by and retrieve something of mine. Hope you don't mind.

Be seeing you,

Ada

Leon stared blankly at the note. Ada always liked to keep things short and sweet. But what would she want to retrieve from him? The agent pondered for a moment and suddenly sprang up, dashing to his bedroom. He wrenched open the bottom drawer of his nightstand to find it completely empty. A small smile crept across his lips. Grindel trotted his way to Leon's side and the agent patted the dog softly.

"I guess she wanted her gun back, don'cha think boy?" Leon looked down at the dog, who quietly barked in response. The blacktail that had resided in the drawer was now gone.

A cold breeze gently drifted into the room and teased the curtains into dancing. The blonde glanced over to the balcony door, which was wide open. "She never was one for a door either," he mumbled, making his way to shut the doors. As the door slid to a close, Leon returned to the front door of the apartment and grabbed his chicken. As he returned to the kitchen, he placed the bucket on the counter. Leon turned to the liquor cabinet, opening it slowly to find it… empty? A single bottle remained, completely empty with a small note attached to it. Leon plucked it from the cabinet and removed the note.

Drinking is a nasty habit, handsome.

Leon couldn't help but laugh as he read the note, which was also signed with a lipstick kiss. "Alright Ada, I'll lay off the bottle." He tucked the note in his pocket and instead grabbed a soda from the fridge. The agent grabbed the bucket and made his way to the couch for his dinner.

Slightly out of breath, Ada plastered herself to the cold brick of the building. There was a loud bang, which she assumed was the door being flung open. A small trickle of nervous sweat made its way down her brow, which she tried to ignore. The minutes crawled by as she remained against the wall. The woman dared not move out of fear of being detected.

"I guess she wanted her gun back, don'cha think boy?" Ada sighed in relief. She stared down at her retrieved weapon and smiled.

"Glad he decided to take care of this for me," she whispered, slowly running her fingers lightly over his prize. This gun had more meaning to her than anyone would ever know. Holstering the weapon that she held so dear, the spy heard much calmer footsteps from inside. The sudden sound of laughter caught her by surprise. Ada squished her body against the wall once again until she heard Leon's voice again.

"Alright Ada, I'll lay off the bottle." The spy smiled widely as she heard him. The Eurasian beauty didn't mind a few drinks every now-and-then herself, but she frowned upon excessive drinking. The spy dared a glance into the living room, where she sighed in relief. Leon was digging into his dinner at last with Grindel attentively scanning the area for crumbs. Ada smiled again and grabbed for her ever-trusty grappling gun.

"Sorry Leon. I have other matters to attend to." She whispered quietly and pulled the trigger, making her silent escape.