Authors Note: Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated? Nobody is perfect, not even our heroes.

I'm not here to save you
I'm not here to change your mind
I'm not here to hold you down
Or leave you half-alive
I came here to wake you
To open up your mind
Go on, go on, just close your eyes
Save your life

- Sick Puppies

They tried. They really did. But sometimes reality isn't as straightforward as the things you imagine. For the two weeks of Leon's leave, they did nothing but hang out, make love and laugh. For a fortnight they were perfect and ready to take on the world. They talked in to the night and made plans, figured out in their young – twenty something brains how they would make things work. They had a lot of hopes, a lot of daydreams. Keeping in contact wasn't a problem, they already had long distance communication down. When he got back from wherever he was sent, he would go straight to Chicago to see her.

She broke up with Alex, of course. She had done the night she arrived at his hotel room door at 3am. The second Leon had told her he loved her she'd known it would happen. She'd never expected to hear those words come out of his mouth.

She made him happy. He made her happy. He even bought her a necklace on the day he returned to Nebraska. A promise. He'd be back, he loved her, he'd see her soon. He called her as soon as he got back to the base. When you're young and don't have the wisdom of experience behind you, it's easy to think you've got it all figured out. As it turned out, long distance love wasn't as easy as it sounded. For a year they made it work, for a year he was faithful – turning down women that made passes. Returning to hotel rooms or wherever he was camped out without any extra curricular activities. He saved the world in that year, twice. Stopping major outbreaks in their tracks in Egypt and Japan, he also led one of three teams responsible for shutting down the Russian branch of Umbrella. The same bunch of scumbags that had captured and tortured him a couple of years earlier. It was a satisfying victory, he returned to Claire in celebration. Showing up outside her college classroom with his bag over his shoulder and his military gear still on.

It had been something right out of 'An Officer and a Gentleman'. She'd ran into his arms and he'd lifted her from her feet. Her class actually applauded. Part of him regretted not just dropping to one knee and proposing to her right there, just to round off the moment. But as it turned out, it was a good thing he hadn't. It would have made what came next even more complicated.

He had two weeks of leave, and they practically spent them in bed. Couldn't get enough of each other, it was the kind of wonderful, passionate indulgence you read about in romance novels. She even skipped classes and work just to enjoy him. He was blissfully, perfectly happy. He would marry this girl, some day. He'd found his soulmate in the middle of the apocalypse, he was sure of it. It's kinda strange how easily it can all come tumbling down. How one, simple thing could change everything.

At the very end of 2003 he was informed he was being transferred. He was requested as part of a new special security team for the President himself. He would be moving to Washington, full time. It was a role that came with greater responsibility than any he'd had before. He'd go where the President went, unless instructed otherwise. He would be on duty 6 days a week, every week of the month. And he would be paid almost four times what he'd been paid in Nebraska – risking his life in various hells.

He couldn't turn it down. But it meant getting to Chicago became almost impossible. With his one day off a week, he'd barely be able to make it there for a handful of hours before he'd have to come back. He couldn't say no to the job, and she couldn't ditch college, work and her apartment. That Christmas was spent trying to figure out what they could do to make it work. She had a year left in college – if they could just hold out.

Just a year.

He moved in March. Finishing up a final assignment out of Nebraska before gathering up everything he owned – which wasn't much – and heading for Washington. Claire took a few days off to help him. His place in D.C was incredible, a spacious apartment near the top floor of a new building. It was more space than he needed, really. But it came with the job, it was a certain upgrade from his digs in Nebraska.

Claire sat in the window seat and looked out over the city, they could see the White House from there. It was amazing, he would be working for the President. She'd probably see him on the news or something, standing handsomely, a fearless protector of one of the worlds most important people. She was proud of him – she really was. He'd worked so hard, he deserved the success. But some part of her worried she'd never see him again. It was easy to say you could hang on a year, that it would be fine just existing via text messages and phone calls. But deep down they both knew they might not make it.

"That's all of it." Leon says quietly, after dumping a box down next to a way too expensive looking coffee table. At least he didn't have to furnish the place.

Claire looks away from the view and up to him, offering him a smile. "This place is really amazing."

"Yeah." he sticks his hands in the pockets of his jeans and comes over to the window, peering out at the spectacular view. "Who knew putting my life on the line would eventually pay off."

"And you get to stay in one place." She says wistfully.

"Kinda. I'll still be on the road when the President travels." He shrugs a bit, leaning against the wall and looking at her. "You staying tonight?"

She nods, sweeping her red hair back from her face. "Gotta test out that fancy bed at least once." She muses.

He laughs under his breath, nodding. "You wanna go explore the city?"

"Not really." She wrinkles her nose. "I'd rather stay in, find something to order. Just us."

"We can do that." He murmurs, gazing at her. A kind of sombre silence falls over them, both looking out over that view. "We'll make it." He says quietly.

Claire feels tears prickle her eyes almost instantly, and she nods. "Maybe we should just.. void this year." She says in a deep breath.

"What do you mean?"

"Like.." she struggles to find words. "Whatever happens.. it's okay. For one year."

He swallows down a dryness in his throat and looks at the floor. "Cause you think I can't keep my dick in my pants for a year."

She looks at him. "Can you?"

"I'm not a complete waste, Claire."

"I'm not saying.." she runs her hand through her hair again. Frustrated. "It's just a long time. And I don't want to be wondering. And you shouldn't have to be wondering about me. Things happen. Mistakes happen. Life.. happens." She explains. "If we're on a break, then none of it counts."

"Like it didn't count for Ross and Rachel?" He laughs sadly.

"Well that's fiction." She reasons.

"You'd really be okay with hearing I'd had sex with someone else?"

"I lived with it when we were just friends." She reasons.

"And I heard you were with Alex and lost my shit." He sighs, looking out the window.

"Well, I have school and work. It's not something I'm looking for. But, yeah. I guess you might have to deal with that."

He puffs his cheeks out, narrowing his eyes and not looking at her. "I hate the idea of someone else's hands on you."

"Me too." She laughs a little. "But this is our life now, I'm just saying that shit happens.. especially when you're alone, and lonely. And I'd rather we just.. made this year a free pass. Back to what we were. And when I'm done with college I'll transfer with work and move here. And we can pick up."

Ahh, the naivety of youth. To be twenty-ish and so sure you had it all figured out.

Life so often has other plans for you.

Leon reluctantly agrees on their new arrangement, though he couldn't help but feel like she was only saying it because she didn't trust him to get through the whole year without fucking anyone. Truth told, a bit of him didn't trust himself not to either, but that was besides the point. It stung. They order Chinese food and watch old movies. She had an early flight, but they stay up through the night. Making love, whispering sweet nothings and promises. Promises that they'd make it. She cried when he dropped her off at the airport.

Within a month, it all changed.

April 12th, 2004

One month in to Leon's active duty as part of the Presidents personal security team, he would face one of the biggest challenges of his life. He had been assigned to protect the Presidents family, which was no small task. A wife that enjoyed endless shopping and spa trips as well as humanitarian work – and a twenty year old daughter. Feisty and in College in Massachusetts. Leon hadn't yet met Ashley, but was due to take over as her private security once she returned. He was staying at a hotel next door to the Presidents wife on the day it happened. Ashley and the two men assigned to guard her on her way back to Washington from school were ambushed – Ashley kidnapped. The two agents protecting her, killed. Whoever did it was highly trained and dangerous. Leon swiftly escorted the Presidents wife back to the White House from her spa retreat – The White House seemed to be in a state of organized chaos.

Nothing to do but trace leads given by witnesses and wait. For a ransom demand, for a terrorist organization to pop its head up and declare its desires. They had no idea who had Ashley and why, but there was a scramble to find out.

Within 48 hours of her going missing, they had intelligence come in that she was in a rural village in Spain. With no demands and nothing more to go on, it was decided that Leon would be sent there to investigate. There was a chance it was bad intel, just a red herring. There were a handful of other leads that different Agent's were sent out to investigate. But Leon drew Spain. It was a twist of fate that would mark another life changing event for him.

But the ordeal to come in that village wasn't all there was to it.

As he sat and waited for the private jet to fuel to fly him over there, he sent Claire a message. He couldn't tell her all the details, as it was still classified information. But he tells her he'll be out of the country for a while, and he hopes school is going well. Almost instantly he receives a call back.

Glancing out of the window at the jet, he answers it.

"Hey, I don't have long." He explains quickly.

"You're going out of the country?" She asks.

"Yeah, few days probably. Maybe more. Not sure how long it's going to take."

"What happened?"

"I can't say right now." He sighs, "you know how it is."

"Yeah.." she sounded sad. Far away. He frowns.

"Everything okay?" He asks cautiously.

She's quiet, and he has to repeat her name for her to speak. "Yeah. I just.. I don't know if I should tell you or not." She laughs a little.

His heart sinks. She'd slept with someone else - already. "Tell me what?" he almost whispers it.

He hears her draw a breath. He braces to be told she's met someone, had sex with someone, it hadn't even taken a month.

"I'm late." She says quietly.

He blinks, frowning. "For what?"

There's a beat, where she's likely cursing him for being dense. "You know.. late."

"I don't..." What was she talking about? Class?

"My period."

He suddenly feels like there's a hand around his throat, squeezing and choking. His mouth dropping open as someone else leans around the door and tells him it'll be three minutes. "Oh.." he responds finally.

"Yeah."

"How late?"

"Two weeks."

He grits his teeth. "Well have you done a test?"

"Not yet. I need to go get one."

He felt ill. There was bad timing and then there was this. His heart was thudding in his chest. "I uh.. well.. you should do that. Then." He had no idea what to say.

"I'll do it today, but how will I let you know if you're out of the country for a while?" she says quietly.

He clears his throat, his hand resting on his suddenly jiggling knee. "I'll call you when I get there. It might be the middle of the night for you or something, I'm not sure. I can't think." He rubs his temple, "so just leave your phone on."

"Alright."

"You can't be pregnant, right?" he laughs it off. "I mean we always use something."

"Not always." She reminds in a small sounding voice.

"But I never.. y'know.. in you." He was grasping at straws.

"You have. The first night of your leave before you moved. We got pretty toasted and..." She says regretfully.

He casts his mind back and quietly curses himself. "It was just one time."

She laughs a little. "All it takes. And pulling out isn't exactly reliable either."

He bows his head, muttering. "Fuck."

"I mean maybe it's nothing. College stress. Body just being weird." She grasps at the same straws.

"Agent Kennedy, we're ready."

He looks up at the assistant and nods, grabbing his backpack and getting to his feet. "Claire I gotta go." Running sounded really appealing right now, and a heavy guilt set in because of it.

"Alright."

"Take the test. Take like four. So we know."

"I will."

"I'll call you when I get there."

"Okay."

He quiets as he goes through the door and follows the assistant out to the tarmac. "We'll figure it out. Okay?"

"Be safe out there." She murmurs.

"Always."

As he hangs up, he doesn't hear her say 'I love you'.

He takes the steps up into the jet and is handed a file as he boards. All the intel so far. He sits in his seat in front of a desk and he tries to read it. He doesn't take a word of it in. It's the longest overseas flight of his life. He wasn't ready to be a father, he didn't think he'd ever be ready to be a father. Kids just weren't something that fit in to his life – how could he be one when he was never home? A kid would grow up not knowing him and that would fucking suck. He was angry with himself, and the longer the flight drags on the angrier he gets. He was religious about using protection, he always had been because getting someone pregnant had been one of his biggest fears. He always carried some, even if the girl he was with was telling him it was fine, he'd still use it. He'd slam on those breaks and get it seen to. One mistake. One stupid drunken mistake.

Unless it wasn't his. She'd wanted the break. She'd wanted the green light to go out and see other people. Maybe she was back with Alex. Maybe he was just the fallback guy because she was panicking and didn't want the father of her child to be someone she wasn't with. It's some mental gymnastics, but when you're on a long, dull flight and it's all you have to think about then your mind races everywhere.

I wish I could tell you Leon handled this situation perfectly. That he was able to man up, suck it up, and deal with it. But he was young, in a foreign country, facing unknown odds – and mostly, not ready to be a father. Not even a little bit.

He reaches the tarmac of the Spanish airport and is whisked in to a blacked out car waiting at the foot of its steps. He's driven to an embassy and while there, he's given an opportunity to change and get his shit together. He dresses in a deep grey tactical shirt and grey combat pants. He wasn't necessarily expecting hostility, but if the intel turned out to be good, he could well find himself in a gunfight. He straps on shoulder and thigh holsters and military tactical utility belt, adding a few essential things he might need if he ended up on some kind of trek through the woods. The file said it was rural.

He sheaths a combat knife and fixes it to his shoulder holsters with tape. Crude but it worked. Finally he shrugs on his fleece lined leather jacket, it wasn't the warmest out there. And it concealed half of the weapons he carried, he'd look less threatening to the locals. If he encountered any.

Boots, gloves. He's ready. He glances in the mirror and studies himself. Maybe he was going a little overboard with all this garb. The lead would probably be for shit and he was looking like a badass for no reason. Some part of him welcomed a fight, a chance to work out frustration and annoyance. He takes a deep breath and grabs his bag, heading back out to meet the secret service agents that had brought him here.

"Ready to go, Agent Kennedy?"

"One thing," he says, "there a phone I can use?"

"For what?"

"An important call back home, it's.. family stuff."

They look at him almost suspiciously. Leon sighs. "You can listen in on the damn call if you want. It's my girlfriend, she might.." he pulls a face. "Be pregnant." He says it out loud. The Agents look a little awkward and at the same time, sympathetic. They organize a private spot for him to make the call within the embassy. Though he was sure it was listened in to, he could hear the vague click on the line.

He feels a little sick as he punches in the number. What time was it there? He does the math. It would be late. Maybe 1am.

Claire picks up the phone almost immediately.

"Leon?"

"Yeah, it's me." He murmurs.

"You get to.. wherever you were headed?" She realizes she had no idea where it was he had even gone.

"Yeah. Just gearing up to head out, follow this lead." He couldn't say much more. He lifts a hand and scratches the back of his head. "So uh.. did you do the test?"

Silence stretches, and he swallows. He needed a strong drink.

"Claire?"

"I'm pregnant." She blurts out.

His heart stops. He finds himself gripping the phone so tightly his palm hurt and the leather of his gloves bites in to his skin. "Are you sure?" his voice comes out in a rasp.

She laughs a little. "Four positive tests sure."

Leon sits down. Staring at the wood floor under his feet. His stomach was in knots and he was a little bit worried he might throw up.

"I mean I'll go see a doctor and really confirm it but.. everything says that's pretty.. positive." She sounded scared and awkward. Any other time he'd be longing to comfort her. Right now, he was panicking.

"What are we going to do?" he asks dryly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean.. what are we going to do?"

"I don't know." She murmurs. "Do you.. not want it?"

He laughs but its completely humorless. "I'm not ready, Claire. I'm not ready be a Dad." He's honest, at least.

"Neither am I, I'm scared too... but I don't know if I can get rid of it."

He grits his teeth. His heart was pounding. "Is it mine?"

I warned you that he didn't handle it perfectly. That he was just a young guy freaking out in the face of a reality he didn't want to face. That question had been one of the many that had swirled in his head on the plane over to Spain, and he blurts it out now. Grasping at any straw that would get him out of this. Unfortunately, for Claire, it's an incredibly painful straw.

"Are you serious?" she sounded suddenly angry.

"Well you said, you wanted us to take a break, to see other people." He throws it right back and hears her half laugh, half sob in response.

"You're fucking serious."

"It's just a question."

"Sure, the day I got back from Washington I was right in some strangers bed, its obviously a random guys – of course. I'm sorry I bothered you." She snaps.

"Claire.."

"Fuck you Leon. I can't believe you asked me that." She was crying. He feels like shit.

"I was just.."

"You know me!" she insists, "you know how hard it is for me, you and Alex are the only men I've ever been with." He can hear her sniffling, hear her grab a tissue from a box.

"I just thought.." he bows his head.

"That I was back with Alex?" She throws it out there.

"Maybe."

"You know what.. I'll fucking handle this, you go do you. Don't worry about a thing." Her tone was suddenly cold and angry.

"Claire don't do this. It was just a question.. I'm kinda freaked out here." He defends himself.

"How do you think I feel?!" she shouts back at him. "Nothing changes for you! I won't even be able to finish college. I'll have to take time away from work. I'm the one that has to do it!"

He pinches the bridge of his nose as she goes off on a rant. He can't listen to it, not right now. He had a job to do and two agents were waiting outside to take him.

"Claire I can't.. I have to go." He cuts her off suddenly.

She laughs bitterly. "Fine."

"I have a job to do."

"Go fucking do your job." She spits, "we'll be just fine."

She hangs up on him, her final words leaving him breathless. 'We'. Her and his baby, without him.

Angrily he hangs up and grabs his shit together, heading out to find the agents waiting.

"Everything okay?"

"Yup." he says tightly. "Lets do this."

He didn't want to talk about it. Nothing. He just wanted to get this over with. He'd never hoped to encounter hostility before, but today he was ready to leather the shit out of someone. The agents take him to a rendezvous point where two Spanish Agents that knew the area waited to take him to the village. He's passed off like gift package, handed a radio. He gets in to the back of their car and they hit a rocky, rural road to nowhere. Leon sits in the back with elbow against the window, gazing out at the scenery, though he takes in none of it. His mind was racing – as of now, he was a father. That terrified him more than any hostility he could encounter.

The locals driving him attempt to make conversation. He isn't especially forthcoming, they'd caught him in a bit of a mood.

Eventually they come to a flimsy, clunky bridge and the drivers stop. Wishing him luck. He lets himself out and makes his first contact with home support. A chick named Ingrid Hunnigan, she seemed pleasant enough and not at all in to his sudden sarcasm. He does his best to leave all thoughts of impending fatherhood and fighting with Claire behind him as he advances toward the small, peaceful, rural village. The first house he encounters, he attempts a little politeness with the locals.

"Excuse me.. Sir? I was wondering if you might recognize the girl in this photograph?"

4 Days Later

He was exhausted. He was filthy. His body ached from top to bottom. He was cut and bruised, scarred outside and in. It had been the fight of his life. That peaceful rural village had quickly descended in to a madness he hadn't been prepared for, but at the same time felt like he'd been getting ready his whole life for. He'd wanted a battle, he had certainly gotten one. Ultimately, it had been a success. He'd emerged victorious, the Presidents Daughter safely under his care. He doesn't get a chance to process a single bit of what just happened as he gets her to shore and to an extraction. It's a whirlwind of helicopters and private jets.

Eventually they end up in Paris, France. Where they get a chance to breathe and rest. The president and his wife waiting at a secret location to greet their rescued daughter. Leon feels like he has his hand shaken about a hundred times, and as nice as the thankyou's and gratitudes are, all he wanted was a shower and a drink.

"You must be exhausted." President Graham pats him on the shoulder, "we can't ever thank you enough."

"Just doing my job, Sir." he nods, returning the hand shake and offering the best smile he could. He hadn't slept in four days, adrenaline had taken control and kept his eyes open and his body moving. Kept his aim somehow steady. His mind sharp. Truth be told he didn't know how he'd gotten through it. He just had. A kind of meditative state setting in, a determination. He had to do this. He had to live up to his reputation, he had to rescue the girl, he had to get back home – to his girl.

To their baby.

He doesn't see Ashley again as she's ushered away by her parents and a full team of security. But she looks back over her shoulder at him, and he smiles to her. She reminded him of Claire in some ways, she wasn't a fighter, but she had the guts to survive hell alongside him. She'd seen it through, he was proud of her. "Seeya later, Kid." he says under his breath as she's led away. Leaving him standing, unsure of what exactly he was meant to do next.

He doesn't have to wait long as SS Agents arrive to tell him he had a room at a nearby hotel and he could clean up and rest.

"Best news I've had all week." He says wearily as they lead him back to a car. He stank to high heaven, he didn't know how anybody could bear to be around him. Smelled like mud and dried blood and sweat. And whatever gunk it was that poured from those parasites. As he sits in the back of the car and is driven again, he gazes out of the window, remembering. The awful screeching sounds they made. The sight of this thing bursting from the neck of some poor infected villager. It didn't bear thinking about, it was the stuff of nightmares. Now – it was the stuff of his nightmares.

He reaches his room. Courtesy of the President. Spacious, air conditioned, comfortable. He drops his bag down and for a moment he stands, soaking in the peace and quiet. Letting the silence wash over him in a soothing, calming wave. He'd lost his jacket somewhere along the line, which was a shame, he'd only just gotten it. But at least he still had all his limbs.

Slowly he begins to peel off the holsters, dropping down bundles of leather and guns on to an expensive looking chair. He drags off his gloves and boots. His hands were sore, blistered from four days of damp and reloading and fucking around with a bolt action rifle before he finally found that automatic. It had been luck that had gotten him through much of the battle. Scavenging weapons, finding things he could make use of. At least he knew he could think on his feet.

As he peels off the tactical shirt that was almost glued to his body, he thinks. About Krauser. The man was so lost, so off the path, so consumed by the war machine within. He could never become like that, he had to keep his humanity. It scared him. The tactical shirt hits the floor with a kind of splat. Gross. He undoes his belt and gets rid of his combat pants and underwear and for a minute he stands under the air conditioning. Letting the cool air blow over his hot and weary skin. He catches sight of himself in the mirror. He was filthy, mud and blood and god knows what else streaking his skin.

It's the most welcome shower he's ever stepped in to. And it's probably never been more appreciated. He makes the water as hot as he can stand and for a while he just stands beneath the large shower head, letting it rain down upon him like a waterfall. He leans against the wall of the shower, exhaustion taking over. He ends up sliding down the tile and just sitting there, arms around his legs, hair plastered to his face. His eyes close.

Ada. Ada had been there. And he was still no closer to knowing who she worked for – how many people was she playing? What chess pieces was she moving? And why did she always show up right when he needed someone? She'd saved his skin back there – again. Would he ever be able to repay her?

Leon tilts his face to the water, letting it soothe away the grime and sweat. Eventually he finds the strength to get up and to actually wash himself. A sponge, some soap. He scrubs off every bit of the last four days. It felt good. He felt more human, a little closer to Leon the man rather than Leon the soldier. Russia had shown him what he could take, Spain had shown him what he was capable of. It was as scary as it was comforting. The learning experiences never stopped coming.

Eventually he steps out of that shower, wraps a big, fluffy towel around his waist and brushes his teeth. Another amazing feeling. You do your best in the field, but there's not a whole lot of time to do anything but piss when you're out in the thick of it and everyone's trying to kill you.

When he finally feels clean, he decides he'll shave in the morning. For now, he wanted a strong drink and maybe something to eat. Then, he wanted to sleep for a full 24 hours – though he doubted that would be possible. They'd likely have him moved on to something else by morning. At the very least, shipping him back to the USA to pick up his guard duty. He moves in to the main room and hunts down the room service menu. It's only after he's called and placed an order that he realizes something in his exhausted state.

The curtain was moving.

He frowns, jaw tensing a little. He quietly crosses the bedroom and picks up his magnum, advancing slowly toward the lightly billowing, floor length fabric. Might just be an open window – or it might be a cult member looking for some revenge. He tucks the fabric back and discovers a balcony, with the door open. His frown deepens as he hesitantly steps out on to it, checking both sides. Nothing. Maybe the hotel staff had just forgotten to close it. So he does that, flipping the lock and staring at it for a moment, he then makes a single step back and feels the cold metal muzzle of a gun press in to his lower back.

Coconut and sweet fruit. She always smelled like a tropical drink.

"Drop the gun, handsome." Ada purrs behind him.

He slowly raises his hands, she gently plucks his gun from his fingers. "Do you think one day we could meet without weapons involved?" He asks.

"Where would be the fun in that?" She asks, stepping back and allowing him to turn around to face her. He does so, taking her in. His hands still raised – still shamelessly only wearing a towel. She was dressed in a black and red dress, it looked expensive. It clung to her curves, shorter one side than the other. He wasn't sure what kind of cut they called that, but she had the legs to show it off. She was truly beautiful.

"So what is this, back to finish the job?" he quirks an eyebrow. "Were you supposed to leave me to die back there?"

She shakes her head, lowering her gun. "You weren't a threat to my mission."

"What was your mission?"

She smirks, "nice try."

"So if you're not here to kill me and I don't need saving – what do you want?"

"I thought it was time we met, properly." She says casually, moving over to the bar. He follows her with his eyes alone. She sets both of their guns down on the mahogany surface and gets them two glasses. "What's the matter, you look like you've seen a ghost." She smiles back to him as she pours.

"Haven't I?" he asks. "You died, in Raccoon City."

"Appearances can be deceiving."

He chuckles a little. "Why, Ada? Why'd you do that?"

She crosses back over to him, handing him a shot of whiskey. "Because I had to." She answers simply. "I couldn't leave with you. I had a job to finish. I couldn't have your questions either."

He takes the glass, his fingers brushing hers. "You could have just said that."

"Could I?" she queries. "Because the man I met in Raccoon City wouldn't have accepted that answer. It was the cleanest, simplest way."

"And I carried the guilt of your death for two years." He rumbles, lifting the glass to his lips and knocking back a sip without taking his eyes off of her.

She hitches a shoulder. "You're strong enough."

"That shit ate me up for a long time."

"Well I'm sorry for that. I tried to make up for it in Russia."

He grits his teeth. "Why'd you run away from me in New York?"

"Again, I had a job to do. I couldn't deal with these questions – then."

"So why now?"

"Because.." she downs her own drink in an elegant tip of her head, then sets the glass aside, moving closer to him. "I want to find out if you handle a woman as well as you handle a weapon."

She undoes the twist in his towel and lets the fabric fall away. Leaving him naked. Then reaches behind herself, drawing down the zip of her dress. It falls to her feet in a puddle of expensive material. He drinks in her delicious, naked form. Every inch of her was perfect, toned, gorgeous. He knocks back the last of his drink and sets that glass beside hers. She eyes him with a glint of mischief and some of the most perfect, ruby red lips he'd ever seen.

He slips his hand around her waist an tucks the other at the back of her neck, drawing her to him.

She threw the gauntlet down. He accepts the challenge.

Authors Note 2: Ada Fans, never fear.. they'll get their scene next. Bring a strong drink and a fan!