"Devil May Cry, what's your business?" For the next few moments, he nods and grunts, before hanging up the phone.
"Looks like we've got a case, Kennedy. C'mon, it's time to rock." Dante sauntered over to the hook by the door and donned his two handguns, Ebony and Ivory. Leon went to retrieve his own equipment, before he could slip on his trademark jacket; he was stopped by the demon hunter.
"Ah-ah, you're not going out in that." The hunter smirked as Leon gave him a confused look in return, which quickly formed into a scowl.
"Why the hell can't I wear my own stuff?" Dante gestured to the closet, a wicked look in his eyes.
He just couldn't win right now, could he? According to the laws of the universe, and jackass demon hybrids, he didn't even have the chance.
He opens the closet with more force than he should, and the sole thing he finds inside makes him shut those doors as harshly as he opened them.
"Oh no, hell no." The agent shakes his head, in vehement denial of what he has just seen, what he's expected to leave this shop wearing.
"Come on, the quicker you do it. The more hypothetical lives we save in the investigation. Don't make me have to lock you in there until you come out in those." Leon growls, before opening the closet again and snatching the offending articles of clothing, stomping down the hall to find a room to change in.
...
"This is fucking humiliating." He's wearing a corset, leather pants, and heels. Now, leather pants he could handle, for god's sake, he could tolerate the corset. But heels? In a place where he'd more than likely have to run, to catch someone, He's running in something that could collapse under his weight and bring more trouble than it's worth. What the hell was Dante thinking, pulling something like this?
"Alright, we're good to go. Get outside and wait on the Motorcycle, I'll lock up and meet you there. Make sure you've got as much as you can carry on you."
"And how, do you think I can carry anything of more use than a pistol when wearing this?" Leon gestures to his clothing, frustrated.
"Well, that's for you to figure out, babe." He grins, before gesturing for the agent to get outside.
It takes all of the man's strength for him not to stomp outside in blind rage, or to knock that look right off Dante's smug face. He can take his anger out later; there are more important things to tend to.
"Fine." And he does make his way outside, but with as much venom as he can put into careful actions to get out the door. He sits on the back of the bike, waiting impatiently. Nothing is fine about this at all, he's furious. And he's damn cold, how could anyone expect to fight in this kind of clothing? Anyone outside of a comic book, at least. He was human, and this human was freezing his ass off.
When he looks up, he sees Dante moving toward the bike, gesturing for him to move back for him to get on.
Great. He gets to ride 'bitch' on the bike, as well as being made to feel like one right now. What kind of job were his superiors trying to saddle him with? He understood that he'd still have to go through with his assignment. How the fuck was he expected to stay there for a week? What was the endgame?
He's taken out of his thoughts by Dante starting the engine.
"Face the back, I'm gonna need you to keep a look out for what's going on behind us. Think you can do that?" It's the first sentence he's said all night that isn't patronizing. It's an actual question that expects a serious answer.
"Yeah, I can." And he does face the back, holding onto the upholstery. Eyes in the back would be more helpful than a mirror in this case.
They drive off in silence. Something he's glad to have. Leon wasn't the best person to have if you'd expected a long conversation. It wasn't that he didn't like to concern himself with them, it was a matter of the person he talked to. He had to have established a connection with them. Right now, he wasn't in the best mood to establish anything with anyone. And that's how he would keep it until he's in a position where he has to.
"We're here."