Authors Note: Bring a strong drink and probably a cold shower. Oft, it's getting hot in here.

Funny how your eyes keep wandering
Every time I speak of deeper things
My love has no walls, it has no strings
So if you want to go, if you want to leave
When you're ready, come be with me

I don't want to be angry anymore
So speak your truth even if it hurts
cause your silence has been whispering
That you're still looking and it's not for me
When you're ready, come be with me

- Bird York

If Raccoon City had created an unbreakable connection between Leon Kennedy and Claire Redfield, then that one night in Chicago forged a deeper bond than either had expected. It was the first time he'd really let himself feel the things that had happened to him and while she'd evidently been struggling with it herself, he'd kept it all tightly bound somewhere inside. He hadn't wanted to, but once that barrier had come down he couldn't stop it – and she'd been there. Seeing him through with a gentle, guiding hand. He'd thought he was the one that was supposed to be there to comfort her, but they'd ended up comforting each other.

No, not in a sweaty – no clothing kind of way. They hadn't touched each other like that at all, in fact, all thoughts of even trying to do so fled both of their minds. Sometimes other things were just more important, like survival. Like healing, or at the very least beginning to. They'd slept in and he'd ended up missing his flight and staying another day, just hanging out, talking. Though after their emotional sleepover, both of them kept the days conversation light. Getting to know one another as people, and not just survivors of Raccoon City.

The next day, he returned to Colorado and to his Father to ride out the last of his leave. He picked up a blonde in a bar and fucked her on her couch in her apartment while her roommate slept in the next room. It was the first sex he'd had since before Raccoon City – to say it was uneventful was an understatement. Determined to make up for this, he picked up a redhead the next night and took her back to his hotel room. This time the sex was intense and determined – the redhead left with a wobble in her step and a smile on her face. Casanova Kennedy was officially born.

He returned to Nebraska ready to take on the fucking world. And that was exactly what they made him do.

December 31st, 1999

New York, New York

He'd been an active field agent in the Counter Bio Terror world for a full year. Demand for him had been on a steady incline since his Mexico job. Word spreading fast that if you needed something doing swiftly, cleanly and most of all – right. You should ask for Leon Kennedy. He was something of an enigma. Nobody quite knew how a 22 year old had become so fucking good so fucking fast. He picked things up at a staggering speed, an endless bank for learning, soaking up information like a sponge. They discovered that he had a near photographic memory and that served him well – but it wasn't just his capacity for retaining information, strategies, details and more – he could learn practical skills in an afternoon. Mastering every weapon put in front of him with swift ease. Picking up various martial arts techniques in a handful of sessions. And nobody was more dedicated than he was – he trained every day he wasn't out on active field ops. It was his life, completely.

Except for when he had a day or a weekend off, then he did the other thing he was best at. Picking up women.

He quickly earned a reputation as both uncatchable bachelor and suave ladies man. Usually men that worked their way through a lot of women became thought of in a certain way. But he charmed everybody, even the stuffy suits. He just had a way about him, he couldn't tell you where it came from. When it came to women – just like the piano – he could always just play.

It didn't hurt that he looked like a movie star either. Many drawing a direct comparison to Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise or Meet Joe Black. He didn't hate it. Sometimes he even wore a cowboy hat, if the right mood took.

So far, there hadn't been a job or a woman put in front of Leon Kennedy that he couldn't conquer. He felt pretty much on top of the world. But there were definitely two sides to this very shiny coin. The side he presented to the world, and the side he kept hidden away. From everybody. Except for Claire Redfield. His anchor, his companion, his calm in the storm. They hadn't seen each other since Chicago, but they kept in contact almost constantly. He'd return from overseas or wherever they had sent him, and find messages on his phone. He'd return them as soon as he could. She was doing well and had joined a group named TerraSave, founded in the aftermath of Raccoon City. She was helping people in the aftermath of Bio Terror incidents – to Leon, it sounded like the perfect job for her. She'd helped heal him, after all. And if someone could get under his 500 layers of armor then they had a gift.

It was the eve of the millenium. There was excitement and anxiety in the air. A lot of the worlds military and police forces were on high alert – not just because of the threat of terrorism – that was a New Years Eve possibility every year. The 'Y2K' threat was scaring a lot of people, wild theories thrown around that there would be complete computer failure at midnight. That the world would be plunged in to darkness or some other apocalyptic nightmare. Leon was off duty, but he was on call. Just in case.

Off duty in this instance meant he was in New York City, the New Years celebration capital of the world. At a work related charity ball – it was not his scene even slightly, but he went where he was told to go, always. Maybe they just wanted him in New York in case something insane went down, or maybe he was there to charm some people on behalf of the US Government. Either way, he was in a way too expensive suit, clean shaven and doing his best not to mingle. Do you have any idea how boring a New Years Eve party is when you're on call and can't drink? Especially a New Years Eve party comprised almost entirely of people he had absolutely nothing in common with. He was not high society – though he could fake it with the best of them. He was not from a board room, he didn't do conferences. He mostly shot people in the head.

Still, there was a good atmosphere. Equal parts anxiety and excitement as everybody waited for that countdown. He didn't care much for the whole New Years thing, days never made much difference to him. Mostly, he was there because she would be. TerraSave had sent representatives to the ball, and Claire Redfield was one of them. Though as per usual – she was late.

Women.

He's leaning against the bar pretending a plain pepsi has vodka in it when he finally spots her. His drink hovers just below his lips as his eyes run over her – it seemed turning 20 suited her. Or maybe it was just the fact that she was in a figure hugging, floor length black dress that clung to curves he'd never seen before because they were hidden by leather and denim.

"Fuck.." he mutters quietly to himself, making the older woman standing next to him arch an eyebrow and look at him with a little distaste. He couldn't care less, he was fixated on Claire Redfield as she spotted him and made her way through the crowd toward him. The dress plunged low between cleavage he'd never even noticed she had, and went around the back of her neck like a halter top, showing off her shoulders. He'd always had a weakness for the shoulders and neck of a woman, and with her cherry red hair pulled up in to a knot, his heart was beating just a fraction faster.

The black material clung to her slender waist and showed off hips that seemed designed to taunt a man. She wore heels underneath that made her legs even longer.

Leon Kennedy was thinking some very bad thoughts, and as she arrives in front of him, he kicks himself inwardly. This was Claire. His lighthouse in a storm – not a conquest waiting to be made.

Behave.

Behave. Grow up. She's your friend.

"Hey, stranger," he smiles, setting his drink down on the bar and leaning in to return her hug. She smelled incredible.

"Hey you, sorry I'm late." She giggles beside his ear, giving him a little squeeze and then stepping back to look at him. "Jeez, you clean up well."

He smirks. He wore a black suit with a dark navy shirt, he felt a little James Bond if he was honest, especially with the holsters hidden away beneath the jacket. "Could say the same for you, where's the denim and leather?" he asks, before capturing the bar tenders attention.

She laughs, "back at my hotel room. For one night only, I'm trying on classy and elegant."

He smiles at her, giving her a pointed look up and down that makes her blush scarlet. "It's workin' for you." He winks.

She can't speak for a moment, and he orders her a pepsi.

"Diet!" She corrects. Finally finding her voice.

He rolls his eyes. "It's new years eve, woman. Live a little."

"I don't need the extra sugar, I'm sweet enough."

"Ohh..." he laughs, "can't argue with that." He orders himself a refill of his.

"Not drinking?"

"On call." He explains.

"Oh, I thought you had the night off?"

"I do, unless some crazy shit goes down with this Y2K thing." He shrugs a shoulder, "then I'm back on duty."

Claire bites her lip, leaning against the bar. "Does that mean you're armed under there?"

He looks at her, amused. "Classified."

"Oh shut up." She makes a face at him. "Classified my ass."

He shoots her a grin. "Is that an offer or a challenge?"

She turns a whole other shade of crimson. Taking her drink as the bar tender puts it in front of her. Leon picks up his own drink and tells himself off a little. He needed to chill the hell out with the flirting. That wasn't what they were, he didn't need to end the night getting slapped when she finally lost her patience with him.

They move away from the bar, working through the crowd of people and finding a table to sit at to drink and talk. He pulls her chair out for her, like an actual gentleman. She seems suitably impressed.

He asks her how her birthday was, even though it had happened in August. He'd sent her a birthday message on the day but other than that they hadn't had much chance to talk lately. They catch up, and even without a real drink in his hand it amazes him how at ease she always made him. Even when he was working his best game, he usually had some kind of guard up around other people. But around Claire it all fell down. He was just Leon, the Colorado kid that wasn't all that cool. She was like a small slice of home, even though they came from very different worlds. He supposed sometimes some people just felt that way – familiar.

"I hear you're making some pretty big waves out there." She changes the subject, twisting her pepsi glass in her hand.

He takes a sip of his and lowers it. "Oh yeah? Who'd you hear that from?"

"Chris, mostly."

Leon frowns. "Guess word travels in our little corner of the world, huh."

She smiles at him, "I guess so."

He quiets, looking down in to his drink. He still had a hard time merging the two people he was. The Leon Kennedy that could snipe a man between the eyes from a mile away and plain ole Leon, the regular guy.

"You don't like talking about it, huh?" She says quietly.

He draws a breath, hitching a shoulder. "Hard to know what to say. It's a job, I get to stop bad guys fucking up the world worse than it is. It's tough.. but its.."

"Fighting the good fight." She finishes, gazing at him. He nods slowly. "But it's not easy." She continues.

He looks in to his drink.

"It's not a bad thing to be effected by it, Leon." Claire softly reminds him, "Chris is the same. We've all been through stuff since Raccoon City. Seen things."

He licks his lips and clears his throat, shaking his head. "Can we.. not?"

Her face falls and she nods. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Just.. supposed to be a party evening." He chuckles.

"Right, waiting for the ball to drop." She quirks an eyebrow.

He narrows his eyes at her. "Now you're just baiting me in to terrible jokes."

She laughs, getting up from her seat. "I have to pee, I'll be back."

Leon gives her a little, playful salute as she gets up and heads off in search of the restrooms. He sits back in his chair and stretches his arms, looking around and then checking his phone. So far, all was quiet. Except for the party people around them. As the night drew on, the music was changing to something more jovial and modern. The guests getting a decent amount of drinks in them. Kinda sucked being the sober dude at the celebration – the trials of being an adult. 22 years old and already with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Its as he fiddles with his phone, that the strangest feeling runs up his spine. Like a tingle, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. It makes him pause, eyes narrowing. Usually, when he had that feeling – it meant a hostile was close. Something that wanted to eat his face or pull out his insides, or plain old shoot him in the head. His jaw tenses and he lifts his eyes, looking through the veil of his hair and around the bar of this ballroom. He glances behind himself, sticking his tongue in his cheek. Something.. somewhere.

He eases from the chair, practically ready to draw if he needed to. He trusted his senses, he always did. They served him well. He glances to his left and in the reflection of the window, standing behind him, he sees a sight that makes him freeze. Looking straight at him.

It couldn't be.

"Ada?" He whispers.

Leon quickly turns around and sees a red dress and black hair move away through the crowd. He leaves the drinks, pushing forward through the mass of people and after her. He had to know, even if he made a complete fool of himself and grabbed some stranger. He had to know. Or was he just chasing a ghost?

He eases past people and out in to the open ballroom. Drunk people everywhere, dancing and celebrating. He looks around frantically – spots the red dress and moves quickly after it.

"Ada!" He calls out this time. She disappears through a door that led to the stairs to the roof. Was he crazy? Was he chasing a phantom? Was it all in his head? She was dead, she died in his arms.

But the hairs on his arms hadn't stood up for no reason.

He takes the stairs two at a time, finding the door to the roof ajar when it should be closed. He takes a deep breath, pushing it open and stepping outside. It was cold, wind blowing and whipping his hair into his eyes. A slight sleet in the air, such a chill. He braces to the winter weather, heading further out onto the roof and looking around. The whole city was celebrating, music coming from everywhere. He could hear the echoes from all around.

"Ada?!" He calls out, beginning to feel a bit stupid. Had he really just chased a ghost up to the roof of this building? He could have sworn it was her, she looked right at him in the reflection of that window. "Ada if you're here.." he begins, looking around. He trails off, closing his eyes and bowing his head. He was being ridiculous. She was dead. He was holding her in his arms when she died. "You're chasing phantoms," he mutters to himself, growling a little. He takes one last look around, lingering on the far edge of the roof. He still felt her. Like she was standing right there.

Better not mention this to anyone, they'd have him yanked off of field duty and in to a psych evaluation in a heartbeat.

He shakes off the cold and closes the roof door behind him, stepping back in to the stairwell. He returns to the party.

On the roof, Ada leans against a utility unit that had hidden her away, freezing cold in her dress. He'd seen her and her heart was racing. She takes a deep breath as she hears the door close behind him. "Guess I'm taking the fire escape.." she says quietly to herself.

Back in the ballroom, Leon returns to the bar. Making his way back to the table he'd been sharing with Claire. He finds her sitting there, looking a little confused.

"Hey, there you are.." She smiles at him as he returns, "are you okay?"

"Yeah.." he sounded hesitant, a frown on his face. About to say he'd had to go to the bathroom too.

"There's snow on you.."

"Oh.." he looks at his jacket, dotted with little spots of sleet that were quickly melting. "Had to take a call, line was bad." He lies, feeling like shit for it.

The worst part is he's fairly sure she knows he's lying, because the look she gives him says she isn't buying it. "You wanna ditch this party?" She asks.

His eyebrows jump. He'd already shaken all the hands he was supposed to.

"You don't have to be here for work?" he asks.

She shrugs. "There's others here, they won't miss me. I mostly came to see you."

She says it and a little smile spreads across his face, replacing the pensive expression he'd had before. "You did?"

"Don't sound so surprised. I get to see you like twice a year.." She shrugs.

"Well where'd you wanna go?" He asks.

"Pick up some burgers, go back to one of our hotels?" She suggests.

He sighs, considering this. "I'll walk you back to yours." He says quietly.

"But no funny stuff." She waves a finger at him, making him laugh softly.

"No funny stuff, I swear." He holds up his hands.

She gives him a wink and he shrugs off his jacket, offering it to her. "It's freezing out there."

"Aw, you're such a gentleman." She blushes, taking it and covering that gorgeous dress. He really was crazy.

Leon shakes a few more hands on his way out of the party, saying his goodbyes like a good soldier. Then they step out on to the freezing cold New York street. He barely knew this city, but you were never far from somewhere to eat. He pauses to ask a cop on patrol where they could get a decent burger in this town. A block away. He takes Claire's hand and they run through the ice cold rain and sleet, laughing as they go. Her heels made it tough going and she almost slips. With lightning quick reactions he catches her, scooping her up onto the side walk and making her giggle.

"My hero."

"Gotta be good for something." He smirks. They duck on to the little burger joint and look thoroughly out of place in their fancy clothes.

They get food, and the strange feeling in his stomach over the Ada incident slowly fades away. Burgers and fries demolished, he hails them a cab back to her hotel. It's 11pm by the time they reach her room, and he calls down to room service for a bottle of champagne.

"I thought you weren't supposed to drink tonight.." she says quietly, letting her hair down from it's knot now that they're safely away from the world.

"I'm not, but half a glass when it hits midnight wont even make a dent." He shrugs, hanging up the phone and trying not to stare at her. He crosses the room, moving to the window. The view over the city was quite beautiful. He so rarely got a chance to stop and take in the places he visited.

She eases off his jacket and hangs it over the back of a chair, moving over to switch on the TV so they could watch the traditional count down.

He watches her, that black dress skimming her phenomenal figure.

Behave, Kennedy.

He leans against the wall, looking out as some fireworks already streak across the sky. She answers the door as room service arrives with their drinks, thanking them and walking in with two glasses and the bottle in an ice bucket. He smiles as she brings them over, setting the bottle down on the window sill. He picks it up and twists the wire, discarding it and popping the cork with a push of his thumbs. It makes her yelp as some bubbles fizz over. He catches them in his mouth, bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking the overspill.

"Well now you're down to quarter of a glass," she reminds him.

He gives her a little wink, letting her hold them as he fills them both. "What's New Years Eve if you don't break a rule or two? The second being you're still too young to be legally drinking it." he reminds with a smirk.

"Touche." She holds up the glass. "Do we wait until midnight?"

"Do you want to?" he asks quietly, setting the bottle back down. Looking at her. She bites her lip, lifting her glass and then taking a sip.

He laughs in a breath. "I'll take that as a no."

"Do we toast anything?" She asks.

He looks thoughtful, holding his glass close to hers. "To.. surviving."

"Oh, that's good. I like that." She clinks her glass gently against his and they both drink. Outside, more fireworks blaze across the sleet filled sky, the time edging ever closer to midnight.

They drink, and they talk, and soon they're watching the seconds count down on the TV as the gathered crowd in Times Square chant along with the clock.

Happy New Year!

Fireworks explode across the night sky, and Leon gazes out of the window. Waiting. For the lights to go out, for the world to end, for all the terrible things to happen that people had theorized about for months with the millennium looming. But nothing happens. The year 2000 arrives and the party goes on. He looks back to Claire, leaning his head against the window.

"The world didn't end." He says quietly.

"Not tonight." She replies with a soft smile.

"Maybe tomorrow." He murmurs.

"Happy new year, Leon."

"Happy new year, Claire."

The kiss happens easily and naturally, his hands coming up to carefully cup her face as their lips brush together – tentative, cautious, then finally surrendering. She makes the softest moan of a sound into it and its an instant thunderbolt to his groin. He wanted her. He'd wanted her since the moment he met her and right now there was nothing else in his head besides that need. Logic and reason and self preservation left the building.

She brings her hands to his arms and runs them over his biceps, then hooks them around his neck, leaning her body in to his. He's done for – the taste of her, to have her in his grasp. His fingers drift down along her back, over bare, soft skin. Reaching the low cut material of her dress. She mews against his lips as they break for air, and he turns her, pressing her against the wall beside the window.

The soft sound of want that she makes. It's needy, its lust fueled, its over a year of holding back. He rucks the skirt of her dress up, lifting her from her feet, she wraps her legs around him and his lips shift from hers to her neck. She grabs at him, hands bunching in his too expensive shirt, hips pressing against his. She felt out of control, like some other person had taken over her body and was making her decisions for her. His hand grabs her breast and she moans. What was happening to her brain?

He reclaims the kiss. Their mouths coming together in lust, a deep and demanding kiss. She rolls her hips against him and she feels him, that hardness pressing against her. And she freezes, her entire body tensing, a mew escaping her.

She slams on the breaks, tearing her mouth away from his. "Stop.. wait.." she pants breathlessly, grabbing at the front of his shirt.

"What's wrong?" he asks, equally breathless. He studies her face, her eyes. She looked.. scared. He frowns.

"I can't." She whispers.

"We don't have to.." he breathes, still holding her up. "Did I do something wrong?" He can't help it. He had to ask. If he'd been too pushy, if he'd misread everything, then he was sorry.

"No.. no.." she licks her lips, running her hands over his chest. "I just.."

"What is it?" he asks gently.

"I've never done this before." She admits in the tiniest whisper.

His heart suddenly feels like it's thudding in his chest. "Oh.."

"I want to.." she adds, "I just.."

He carefully sets her down, brushing his hands over her hips as he does, he pulls away. She catches his hand, linking their fingers carefully, she pushes herself away from the wall and lifts her other hand to his face.

"I want it to be you.." she says boldly, and quietly. "Just, not like that, all rushy."

His mouth felt as dry as the desert suddenly. All of a sudden, suave Kennedy had no idea what to do. "Why me?"

"Because I trust you, I think more than anybody I ever met.." she smiles.

"I can't give you the fairytale.." he admits quietly.

"Since when have our lives ever been a fairytale?" She asks. She had a good point.

He lifts his palm to her cheek and she leans in to it, his thumb lightly brushes over her lower lip. "I don't know, I don't know what to do here.." he swallows, "I don't want you to regret it."

"And I don't want to regret it." She laughs quietly. "I just.. want it to be you."

He searches her eyes.

"You got me through my first end of the world.." she says with a bite of her lip that's so adorable it makes his stomach do that flip flop thing.

"Well, hopefully this wont be as traumatic." He jokes gently.

It makes her laugh. It's a nervous laugh, but it leads back to a kiss. This one was gentle. Cautious. Asking.

This time – as the world celebrates a brand new millennium outside – he carefully takes her down to the bed. Clothes come away piece by piece. She unbuttons his shirt and runs her hands over his bare chest beneath, letting her nails lightly scratch. She pushes it from his shoulders and he discards it, never really taking his eyes from hers. She lets her fingers trace over the scar in his shoulder, and she finds another at his ribs from a more recent mission.

"What happened?" She whispers.

"Jumped through a window.." he answers, brushing a kiss over her cheek. "Glass."

"Crazy man." She leans up and kisses his shoulder, slipping her hand around his back as he guides her legs apart, letting him settle between them.

"So they tell me." He breathes against her ear, then kisses her brow, moving back to her lips. He moves his hips against her, letting her feel him. It makes her tremble, a little shiver he feels. His hand dips down, grasping her thigh, drawing it up along his ribs as they kiss deep and intense. His careful grind against her was hitting a spot that made her tingle all over.

As he moves away from her mouth and kisses her neck, she moans. Nerves and need, a powerful, heady mixture of things to feel. "Leon.." she whispers.

He carefully nips at her collarbone, then lifts his head to look in her eyes. "Yeah?"

She giggles, blushing as red as her hair. He grins, pulling back a bit. He helps her remove that beautiful dress. Uncovering a body that was a crime to hide away.

"You are so fucking beautiful.." he murmurs, turning her blush up another level.

She tucks her hand in his hair as he kisses a valley between her breasts, over her flat stomach. Her legs shake, both nerves and anticipation as he rids her of the last barrier she had left. Her heart races, her nerves jangled, looking up at him as he undoes his belt.

Panic. Pleasure. Was it all the same thing? How had she ended up here? With everything she wanted and everything she was terrified of rolled in to one? She didn't trust men, she didn't even particularly like them. She'd had two boyfriends and both had been awful, only interested in getting her in to bed and when they couldn't have her, they'd cheated on her. High school boys were the dirt worst.

But Leon wasn't a high school boy. And she wasn't that high school girl anymore.

She felt safe with him. She always had. If there was anybody she could trust to tear down this wall she'd built around herself – it had to be him. Even if there was no happy ever after. Losing it to your best friend? That couldn't be bad.

"Oh God.." she mews anxiously as he's finally as naked as she is. He was all muscle and power, that Brad Pitt comparison she'd heard couldn't be more on the money, only he looked even better. And he was between her legs, making her feel ridiculous things.

"Relax.." he whispers against her neck. His fingers touching her, he knew he was doing a decent job, she was already slick and hot and wet. The last scrap of sanity he has left is spent on grabbing his jacket and getting them some protection. It would help ease her mind too. Help her relax. With that taken care of, they return to a kiss and she wraps herself around him. Her stomach full of butterflies, her belly full of – other things that fluttered.

"Ah!" the sound she makes as he pushes gently in to her. Her fingers dig in to his back, her whole body tenses. Her body objecting to the sudden invasion. So he kisses her and soothes and doesn't move a muscle until she's ready. It's the biggest endurance test he's ever faced, but he flatly refuses to let her down. When he finally feels her relax, he carefully begins to move. Deeper, taking her, until the discomfort fleets from her face and she begins to move with him. Accepting, wanting. Her body discovering it was built for this.

They talk softly to one another, lips a breath apart, looking in to her eyes and making sure she's okay. She gazes right back at him. He took her breath away, the feel of him inside her unlike anything she'd experienced before. Intense.. and so good. She begins to encourage him, a want building inside her she couldn't describe. A need. More. Harder. He obliges. Kissing, hands gripping her thighs, putting that power of his to good use.

His forehead drops to her shoulder and he pants hot breath against her neck. Free to cry out, she does so, hands dragging down his back leaving a trail in the thin sheen of sweat that covered them both. Its like an explosion rocks her body, a feeling radiating through her that makes her jerk against him and clutch at him and cry out his name. He growls against her neck, snapping his hips harder, riding out her pleasure and crashing in to his own.

Panting. Hearts thundering. She clings to him like a vine. Like she'd shatter if she let go. He stills, breathing heavily. His hand strokes her thigh.

"Did the world end?" she whispers, "I think the world ended."

He chuckles wearily, kissing her neck. "Not yet." He lifts his head, looking down at her and gently stroking some strands of hair back from her eyes. "There's still time."

"Oh.. good.." she says breathlessly, then giggles, lifting her head to kiss him.

"Are you okay?" he asks when it breaks.

"Perfect." She answers, smiling. "I'm perfect."

Job well done, Agent Kennedy.

He places one last kiss on her brow and eases from her. The aftermath was always an awkward annoyance, but he gets that taken care of and returns to her, holding the bottle of champagne. He takes a swig from it, checking his phone.

"Officially off duty.." he says, sitting back down on the bed beside her, he offers her the bottle and she takes a drink.

"Well, I'm glad they didn't call you, especially not.. then.." She giggles. Blushing. How was she still so effected by him? He'd been inside her now, you'd think she'd be over it. But it's very cute.

"Yeah they might have had to wait." He nods, taking the bottle back when she's done with it.

"Might?!"

He laughs. "To be honest I don't think I'd even have heard it."

She stretches beside him, moving that lithe body, still utterly naked. Enticing.

"Stay?" She suggests, hopefully.

"Okay." He nods, like he needed convincing.

January 14th, 2000

Nebraska - USSTRATCOM Base

"Kennedy!"

Leon stops in his tracks as the voice of his superior officer calls him from down the hall. He turns back with a "Yes, sir?"

"Come in to my office for a moment?"

Leon hesitates, but does as asked. Heading inside and closing the door behind him at his request.

"We're going to need you to lead a team on a search and rescue, an undercover agent of ours went missing in Russia."

"Russia?" He asks with a frown.

"A syndicate we believe with ties to Umbrella. She was attempting to get proof of the manufacture and sale of bio weapons. We lost contact with her 48 hours ago." He moves a file over the desk toward him and he takes it, lifting it up to read over the information. Russia, in winter, it would be cold enough to freeze their collective balls off before they found a soul. He simply nods. "Transport is being readied, you'll fly out tonight."

"Yes, sir."

"Full brief in an hour, I won't be your handler on this one. I just thought I'd bring it up while you're here."

"Oh?" Leon closes the folder.

"You asked me to look in to a name for you."

Leon's jaw tenses.

"A.. Ms Ada Wong."

"Yes, sir."

His superior drops a second folder down in front of him. "Its a code name."

Leon's eyebrows jump. "For?"

"I don't know. Just know that it's an alias. And she is very much alive and well, and according to recent intel.. last seen in.."

"Russia." Leon finishes.

His superior smiles.

"Thankyou, sir." Leon gives him a nod and takes his leave. His knuckles whitening around the folder as he stalks down the hall.

She was fucking alive.