Authors Note: It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes. Oh, they already did. Onwards!

Here I go again, back into the flame
Like a moth so willing to be burned
A little touch a little taste the pheromones embrace
And I get weak with every breathe I take

'Cause it's you who released me
It's you who gave me fire
Oh and now it's impossible to grow
Without breaking stride, I get so high

- Sarah McLachlan

Her skin was smoother than silk beneath his hands, and tasted like peaches. He wasn't entirely sure he was awake – that this wasn't some feverish dream after four days on his feet fighting for his life against impossible odds. Had he reached exhaustion point? Was he now collapsed in his hotel room imagining this woman? Ada. The ghost in the red dress that had haunted him since Raccoon City.

He'd been drawn to her from the moment he met her, like a moth drawn to a flame. She was mysterious, exotic. Spoke in riddles and made him feel things inside he hadn't felt since high school – when he'd first started discovering the allure of women. Weird tangles and butterflies and a strange sense of excitement all swirled around in his stomach. Ada was a fantasy and in some ways he'd been happy to let her remain as such, he'd thought about her more than once in his alone time, and you know exactly what I'm getting at.

Should a fantasy always stay a fantasy? There was a certain magic to making it real. He just hoped it really was real. That he wasn't going to wake up at some point, sprawled on the tastefully carpeted floor of this overly expensive suite.

They'd made it from the bar to the bed with ease, clothes already gone, nothing to do but explore and enjoy. She arched under him, lithe and seductive. Lightly dragging her nails across his chest, making muscle react and tighten. He attacked her neck with his mouth, breathing her in. Talk about chemistry. Something about theirs bordered on explosive. He claims her lips with an aggressive kiss and she grasps his ass, drawing him closer, bringing him down to her. He holds off from just taking her. He wanted to savor this a bit. If it was a dream, he wanted the memory to last.

His hand captures her breast, he smears kisses across her cheek and downward. She moans something about wanting him to fuck her. But she wasn't in control here, he was. Their dynamic switched. He'd snatched that gauntlet off the ground and he was keeping it. She'd driven him half crazy for years, now it was his turn. She gasps and sighs as he sinks between her thighs, his hands run over her stomach and keep her from squirming away as his mouth discovers the hot center of her. Her hands curl in the bed sheets. She curses him under her breath and it makes him smile – as well as he could smile with his face buried in her pussy.

She comes quickly and easily, hardly a challenge. A victory he now held over her in an endless battle for dominance. He kisses along her inner thigh and as he does, there's a knock for room service.

Leon lifts his head and their eyes meet, an amused glint in both pairs.

"Leave it outside!" he bellows in response. Not a usual request, but hey, they weren't going to argue with a Government Agent.

Left in peace, he returns his attention to the woman of his dreams. She studies him through narrowed eyes, her skin flushed and hot thanks to her orgasm. He was quite something. He didn't just have the killer looks, he could get the job done elsewhere as well. Which was a rare combination to find in a man. Most of them thought a quick fumble in the dark was more than enough to make them Casanova. But Leon? The lights were on and even after four days of battle he was present and making her feel amazing things.

She didn't give herself to many men, it was a rare thing. She used her body efficiently, sometimes it could get her what she wanted. Get her information. Get her the things she needed to complete a task. She wasn't precious about sex, it was a function and sometimes it was an incredible tool for manipulating even the most hard to reach men. She was an expert at seduction. But with Leon? She didn't need to try. She'd had him in the palm of her hand since the moment they collided in a small decaying town and this? This was really her, giving herself to him. Her own wants, for once.

She traces the tip of her tongue along her top lip as he crawls his way back up along her body. He moved like a predator and she was his prey – a strange feeling for her, it was usually the other way around. If she didn't want him so much, she might be a little worried. She wasn't one to submit to anybody. But he had her.

She curls her hand around the back of his neck as he returns to her lips and kisses her with a commanding confidence. She returns it, and her other hand dips down low, taking hold of and stroking him. He growls in to the kiss, a low rumble in his chest. So wound up after so many days fighting for his life. So was she. It was a release they both craved and it was fitting they found it in each other.

She guides him to her but instead of taking her, he breaks the kiss, looking down at her. He knew what he was doing. Teasing, taunting. "What's your real name?" He asks in a heavy whisper. Her eyebrow quirks.

"Ada."

He licks his lower lip, she was still stroking him, it felt really fucking good. Being inside her would feel even better, but he resists.

"I know it isn't." He rumbles.

"It's the only name I go by." She purrs, "now fuck me."

"Not until you tell me your name." It was a dangerous game. She might just walk out.

Her eyes narrow, studying his resolve. "Do it, and I'll tell you." She whispers.

He tightens his jaw, "I don't believe you."

"I keep my word."

He tucks his hand down between them, taking hers away and guiding himself. He takes her in one smooth push of his hips. It's like sinking in to bliss and his breath catches in his throat, his entire body trembles and he looks down at her. He hoped to God this wasn't a dream. She grips him like a silken vice and for a moment he's worried he's going to lose it completely.

"Your name?" He forces the words out, buried inside her at last.

"It's still Ada." She breathes, stroking her hands along his back.

His eyes snap open and he meets hers. It's a challenge. A dare. Her wicked little ruby red smile taunts him.

He grasps her hands, pins her wrists above her head, and he fucks her. Harder than he'd dare with Claire. If Claire was home and love and passion – then Ada was danger and fire and a raw, feral desire. Something primal emerges within him, she wasn't going to win. He'd fuck her name out of her if he had to. He'd taken down a whole army, he'd bent a whole village to his will. He'd get her name.

Their bodies crash together, a sweat slicked symphony. She lets herself enjoy it, working with him, crying out her pleasure. When he releases her wrists to grab her thighs for more leverage, she drags her hands over his muscled arms and down along his back, encouraging him, digging in her nails like driving a spur in to an untamed horse.

He growls angrily and pulls from her, getting to his knees he's grabs her hips and turns her over. She meets his challenge, rising up on her hands and offering herself to him again. He takes her, grabbing her hips. Deep. Hard. In no time at all her thighs quake and her hands grip the covers, he unravels this taunting woman again. Twice. He had her. His heart was pounding, he drops down over her, a hand on either side. He kisses between her shoulder blades, rocking his hips now.

"Your name?" he growls against the back of her neck.

"It'll always be Ada." she manages in a breathless whisper. He snaps his hips into her hard and she moans, it sent an aftershock of pleasure through her. "You can't keep this up forever." She taunts him.

"Wanna bet?" He hisses, grabbing her wrists again, he pulls her hands behind her back and uses them for leverage as he picks the pace right back up.

She was right, though. He can't keep it going forever. Soon his body betrays him, but it's a release he's needed since Raccoon City. All the frustration, regret, anger and passion he'd felt, finally poured in to her. He collapses on top of her, pinning her beneath him. They lie there, a sated heap. He closes his eyes, feeling the pull of utter exhaustion clawing at him. After a minute or two, he eases from her and flops to his back on the spacious bed. Swiping his hand over his face and staring at the ceiling.

"Holy shit." He murmurs.

At his side, Ada gathers herself together and then wordlessly gets up and pads naked to the bathroom. He watches her go, then flops his head back down on to the pillow. He felt lighter than he had done in years, like he'd exorcised the ghost of Raccoon City inside her. He'd just torn a path through Spain, he'd survived everything the world could throw at him, and he was still fucking standing.

In that moment, he was the man.

And then he remembers he'd been so caught up in the moment he had forgotten to use protection. And his stomach clenches up in a knot as he remembers Claire. She was so mad at him, he'd asked her that awful question, trying to escape his responsibility. He needed to call her. He needed to call her and they needed to talk. Figure out what they were going to do. He couldn't force her to get rid of it. So if she decided to keep it, he had to man up, didn't he? He'd survived Russia and Spain, he could survive becoming a father. Right?

Ada wanders back in to the room, naked and shameless, heading for the bar where she pours them two more drinks. He sits up, watching her as she returns to the bed and hands him a glass.

"Half thought you were never going to come out of there, that you'd just.. vanish in to the night." He says as he takes the drink.

She smiles at him, getting back on to the bed. "I probably should. But my legs need to recover a little first."

He smirks. Sipping. "So did I pass?"

"Oh, you passed." She laughs against the rim of her glass.

"We didn't use anything." He brings it up.

She's as casual as could be. "It's fine. You think I can afford to get knocked up? In my line of work?"

He assumed that meant she was on some type of birth control. "And what is your line of work?"

She quirks an eyebrow. "I think you know."

He studies her, throwing his free arm behind his head as he settles back against the pillows and headboard. "No idea. All I know is you show up in the strangest places, and you always seem to have the drop on everybody. File the US government has on you says you're a spy."

A curious smile fleets across her lips. "They have a file on me, hm?"

"Yep. How I know your name isn't actually Ada."

"But it is." She looks at him.

"Legally?"

"In every way that counts."

"Hm." He studies her carefully. She was impossible to read, the only woman he'd ever met that he couldn't get a beat on. It was mysterious and enticing. He wanted to know more. "Why were you in Russia?"

"Why do you think?"

"Infiltrating the Umbrella splinter cell? Trying to get something from them?"

She tilts her glass a bit, a casual hitch of her shoulder.

"And you risked it all to save me."

"I couldn't see them do to you what they did to the others." She admits quietly.

His stomach knots again and he looks in to his drink. "So who are you working for?"

She rolls her eyes. "Isn't there anything you'd rather talk about than work?"

He smirks. "Just curious."

"Well you know what they say about curiosity."

"What's that?"

"It killed the cat."

"Well.. I'm no pussy." He says flatly.

It makes her laugh and she pushes herself up, straddling his hips, still holding her glass. What a sight.

"I'm not dreaming, right?" He asks.

"If you are then we're both in it. Which after the week we've had might not be too far beyond the realms of possibility." She muses.

"How do you know Krauser?"

"All you want to talk about is work." She sighs.

"Well what do you want to talk about?"

"Well, tell me. Who is Leon Kennedy?"

"So you get to know about me and I don't even get to know your name?" He challenges.

"Touche. Alright then. I was born in America." She gives him that.

"Where?"

"East coast."

He narrows his eyes.

"My favorite colors are black and red."

He snorts. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed."

"I like hot weather, sushi, long hikes and there's nothing more beautiful than the sea under the moonlight."

Leon studies her, drinking her in. Every word, every curve. "I can think of something more beautiful." He murmurs.

"Don't get all sentimental on me now, Leon." She purses her lips, draining her glass. She eases from him and puts it aside, then settles herself on the bed next to him. He finishes his, putting his glass aside too.

"You're actually going to stay?" he asks quietly.

"I'm pretty exhausted." She replies. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all." He smiles at her, lifting a hand to gently tuck some of her hair back from her eyes.

"You must be ready to drop yourself."

"Just a little." he chuckles wearily, his eyes drifting closed as he says it.

They talk in whispers a short while longer, before that exhaustion finally claims him. He drifts in to a deep sleep. His breathing getting deeper, the lightest of snores that tells her he's out. Once she's sure, she opens her eyes, looking at him. Sweet, trusting man. The world hadn't broken him down yet, despite how hard it had tried. There was something admirable about that, something that spoke to her jaded heart. In another lifetime, maybe he could be the one.

She eases out of bed and drifts across to his bags, quietly undoing zips and plucking out his wallet. She leafs through it's contents, finding a picture of him with that redhead from Raccoon City. Claire Redfield. She looks across at him, sleeping soundly. Were they a thing now? Had he just cheated on this pretty little thing? She studies the photo. They looked happy, posed in front of a lake in what looked a lot like Chicago. A wistful smile passes across her face and she tucks it back in. She finds his phone, government issued of course. Fancier than the things available to the public currently. It has a lock on it, but it takes her only a minute to bypass that.

She finds what she's looking for, and then can't help herself. She looks at his messages.

He was definitely dating Miss Redfield. Which meant he was cheating on her.

It makes her look at him slightly differently. He was still just a man after all – still a slave to his urges. It was a tiny bit disappointing, but she supposed none of them were perfect. "Sorry about this, Claire." She sighs a little, shutting the phone off again. She tucks everything back where she found it and returns to bed. Climbing in beside him, he grumbles and moves, slinging an arm around her as he settles again. It was nice, a pleasant weight. It wasn't often she got to feel like she belonged somewhere, but he made her feel that way. It was nice to dream, sometimes, of a normal life.

Where he wasn't a cheater and she wasn't a slave to a government and maybe they could just be.

She closes her eyes and for a night, allows herself to just be a woman, sleeping with a man.

He never did pick up his room service. Something he realizes when he wakes with a growling stomach. It's a pleasant surprise to find her still there beside him. He'd fully expected her to be gone by the morning, but there she was. Not a dream after all, she was really there, it had really happened. He gets up and crosses to the balcony, opening the doors to let in some real air. It was a warm, sunny morning outside. His whole body ached, four days catching up to him. But he felt more rested than he had done in a while. He crosses to his bags and digs out his phone, it didn't handle international calls but messages it could manage. Nothing from Claire.

But something from work. He was officially off duty. He had the room as long as he wanted it, vacation time to recover. It's a nice gesture, but he had to get home. He had to fix things with Claire. Or try.

He wonders if he should tell her – about Ada. He wasn't sure he could lie. But then, blurting out that he'd been with someone else while she was home struggling with the idea she now carried his baby probably wasn't the best idea. He'd keep it quiet, for now. He shoves his phone back in his bags and heads for the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and taking care of the usual things, he starts the shower and gets in.

It isn't long before she joins him. A pleasant surprise.

You're not supposed to get dirty in the shower, but they do. Once again its fiery and passionate, bordering on aggressive. He liked the way she surrendered to him, it made a change from all the times she left him wondering. Left him frustrated. Being with her was very, very different to being with Claire. They were polar opposites in every way, and both of them satisfied some part of him.

"I'm officially off duty." He remarks as he wraps a towel around his waist.

"What a coincidence." She says thoughtfully, drying her hair. He leans against the door frame and watches her as she morphs in to a typical woman. Putting on make up, doing her hair, primping and preening.

"Need to get home, but.. could hang here a day." He suggests cautiously.

"You want to take me on a date, Leon?" she asks with a hitch of her eyebrow, looking at him in the mirror.

He clears his throat, folding his arms. "Never seen Paris."

She glances over her shoulder at him. "Never?"

"Nope."

She returns to adding mascara to her eyes. "Well, maybe I can spare a few hours."

"Somewhere to be?" He asks.

"I need to get back to London." She sighs.

"What's in London?"

She flashes him a look and a smile, getting on with her makeup.

"British Government, is that who you work for?" He asks.

"No more work talk, Leon. We're off duty."

He chews on his lower lip and nods, unfolding his arms. That was a yes. "I'll order us breakfast."

They eat breakfast on the balcony that overlooks the Eiffel Tower, then head out on to the streets of Paris to explore. It's an amazing city, it felt old and cultured and a little beyond him. She drags him in to several expensive designer stores, and she refuses any offer he makes to pay for anything. She was as independent as she was beautiful.

They visit the tower, and an amazing art gallery. It wasn't usually his kind of thing at all. Normally he'd flinch away from the idea of wandering around looking at paintings. But something about being with her drew a different Leon out from inside. One that was interested, because she made it interesting. She made art and culture interesting. Expensive coffee in tiny cups, lunch by a river on a cobble stone street. She tells him about the history of the place and for some reason he's fascinated. Learning, he'd almost forgotten how much he enjoyed learning. His brain was a bit of a sponge for it. She seemed to know everything.

She was a mystery, one that had him completely enthralled.

"I'd like to see you again." He admits to her as they walk toward Notre Dame.

"I'm sure our paths will cross sooner or later." She looks to him with a smile.

He sighs a little, looking up at the cathedral as it looms before them. "We can't just.. set up a date?"

She's entirely non committal, "hard to do in our world."

"Not that hard."

"Are you sure you don't have someone to go home to?" She challenges.

He grits his teeth a bit. He should have known she'd look in to him. His life. It was pretty unfair that he was an open book to her and he still knew next to nothing about her. He knew more about Paris now thanks to Ada than he knew about the woman herself. "We're taking a break." He admits.

"Oh?"

"I had to move to Washington, she has college and work in Chicago. Our schedules just.. didn't match up anymore." He explains.

"That's sad."

"Yeah, well. Life happens I guess." He gives her a little smile. "I can give you my number?"

Ada hesitates, looking around herself as she stops in her tracks. It makes him pause and frown. "Leon.."

"What?"

"Don't get too attached to this." She says quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"This can't happen." She gestures between them.

"Why not?"

She laughs a little. "You know why not."

"What, because we work for different Governments? Why?"

"Exactly that. And so much more." She lifts a hand to his face, he leans his cheek in to her palm. "Even being seen together today could set things in motion." She sighs.

"What things? Why would it matter what we do in our personal time?"

"Oh it matters." She says in a breath of a laugh. "It always matters."

He shakes his head. "I think this life has made you paranoid."

"And you should let it do the same to you. Before it starts taking..." she cuts herself off, "just trust me, okay?"

"So that's it?" He asks.

"Don't give me those sad eyes and that puppy face. Leon. Go back to work, go back to your girlfriend. And if the fates mean for us to see each other again, we will."

"It's not fair that you can track me just about anywhere and I don't know shit about you." He challenges.

"The way it has to be." Ada shrugs.

"So many fuckin' rules." He dips his head, annoyed.

"And learning to play by them will keep you alive."

"You make it sound like someone's out to get us."

"You piss off enough bad guys, then they will be." She warns.

He nods. He understood. He might not like it, but he understood. "Still got the rest of today though. So.. show me this cathedral." He looks up at it. It was pretty impressive.

When he looks back, she's gone. Vanished into the crowd.

"Ada!" he calls out, frowning.

Nothing. He scowls. Irritated. He didn't even get to say goodbye. How did she do this stuff? What was she, one of those secret government agents you heard about in novels? Super spy? Did she really work for the British Government? Did she use her body to get information out of hapless men like him? Had he given anything away?

He realizes he had no idea how to get back to the hotel from here, so he remembers his French and hails a cab. The whole drive back he's watching out of the window for a glimpse of her red dress. But he sees nothing.

He closes his eyes, leaning his head against the window. This had without a doubt been one of the strangest weeks of his life. But what a way to end it.

He thinks about her the whole flight back to the USA. Business class, paid for by the President. What a change his life had taken over the past few months. For a guy that lived pretty humbly and simply for so long, it was a bit of an adjustment. In his jeans and white button down shirt and leather jacket, he felt really out of place amidst all of the suits. All the men tapping away on their laptops and women reading their books in their designer pencil skirts.

One of them makes eyes at him the entire trip. If he'd felt like joining the mile high club, he likely could have without much effort. But two women messing up his mind was quite enough for now. Instead he nurses a few whiskeys and tries to catch up on the four days of sleep he'd missed. All the while wondering where Ada was now. What she was doing in London. Who she was doing it for.

He catches a connecting flight from Texas and he doesn't return home. He heads to Chicago.

Time to get back to reality. Time to face the music. It was the weekend, so technically she should be home. He turns up at 1pm and presses her buzzer, waiting, bag slung over his shoulder.

Nothing.

He looks up at the building and chews his lip a bit, then digs out his phone. He'd wanted it to be a surprise, but he supposed a phone call might be that as well. Letting it ring, eventually she answers.

"Leon, you're home?" she says it in a quiet, almost apprehensive tone that makes him frown.

"Not exactly. I'm.. actually at your home." He looks up at the building again.

"Oh."

"That was me at the buzzer." He chuckles a little. "You wanna let me in?"

There's a short pause before she answers. "I can't."

"Claire, if you're still mad at me that's why I'm here.."

"No I mean I can't. I'm not there."

He frowns. "Oh.. where are you? New boyfriends?" he jokes, though it's not especially funny.

"No. Ugh." She sounded so agitated. His face falls.

"I'm just joking. Where are you? I got some leave.. things overseas went a little.. crazy. They're giving me some healing time."

"Healing time? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it was just a lot. Four days.. few hundred people wanting me dead."

"Jesus, Leon.."

"I'm alright. Nothing some rest and some therapy wont cure." He wasn't joking about the therapy, they'd make him attend. Trauma counselling was pretty much mandatory after what he'd been through. Couldn't have their agents flipping out.

Claire sighs heavily on the line. "I'm in Nevada, with Chris. But.."

"Gimme the address."

"I don't think it's a good idea you come here."

"Why not?" He asks hesitantly.

"Because..."

Leon's mouth felt dry. "You told him, didn't you."

"I had to.. I needed someone to talk to." She says quietly.

"Just how dead does he want me?"

"Enough that he probably shouldn't even know you're back in the country."

Leon closes his eyes, leaning against the door in to her building. "Well, might as well get it over with."

"Are you crazy?"

"I can hold my own."

"That's what I'm worried about. I don't want either of you dead."

"It wont come to that." He promises.

"You don't know Chris that well."

"Well he's going to have to deal with it." He says flatly. "Cause if we're having this baby then.."

"Is that him?!" Chris's voice suddenly booms over the phone. "Gimme that!"

Leon braces as the phones snatched from Claire's hand.

"Kennedy?"

"Yeah."

"You come around here, or near my sister – ever – again. I'll cut your fucking heart out and feed it to you."

"Chris, c'mon.."

"Don't call her. Don't speak to her. Don't even think about her."

"I can't do that man. She's.."

"You've ruined her life, Leon. All cause you can't keep your dick in your pants."

"Its not like that, at all."

He couldn't get a word in, Chris was raging. "I will end you. Got that? Fuck off."

With that, the phones hung up. Leon draws his back from his ear and stares at it.

"Wow."