Claire pouted as she was brushed aside by the third suit of the day. Rose followed behind her, trying to keep a low profile and stomping down the nerves she was feeling just by being inside the White House. It'd been two years since she'd been here, and President Graham was still in office...there was every chance that she could be spotted. She told herself that nobody was looking for her, so the chances of being recognized were slim to none. She was here for one reason; Jason.

Claire on the other hand, had her own agenda and Rose was just tagging along for the ride because she was no longer the charming, sweet DSO agent they had hired when she was seventeen. At least, that's what she told herself. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was pretty, and she saw Leon somewhat regularly. It had nothing to do with the fact that she'd worked with Leon twice in the past two years and they'd seemed close. It definitely wasn't because she was scoping out competition.

Okay, so maybe she'd gone a little crazy looking up Claire Redfield after they'd met in Panamestan. But that didn't mean that she was going to derail her entire mission to stalk her ex partner's pretty friend.

The redhead groaned as they walked down a short two steps on to red and white checkered floors. People were milling about, minding their own business, and Claire was distracted by her missing appointment. But Rose could smell the lingering death in the air. Something had happened here recently. She'd never forget the smell of blood, or rot. It was engrained into her and every time she smelled it, she was thrown back to Spain in the bitterest of ways.

As an ex-psychologist, she knew she should have talked to someone about it. But she was stubborn, and knew the treatment for PTSD as well as the next doctor. There was no help in the world that could fix her. And it was the flashbacks that caused Rose to be distracted, and the undertones of another scent was so familiar to her that she wasn't sure she could separate reality from fiction. She wasn't sure if she was really smelling it, or if it was just another memory.

She was faintly aware of Claire harassing another suit. A short man with thin brown hair and a gold pin on his black suit jacket. "Uh, Mr. Ryan, I work with TerraSave, the NGO assisting the Penamstanis. Do you have a moment?" Claire walked forward, and Rose followed at a distance, brushing her hair over her face so that he didn't recognize her. She stood off to his left, near a pillar, and his eyes thankfully passed over her with no regard. He was simply too busy to deal with either of them.

"What is it?" He asked anyway, not bothering to slow down his pace as he walked by her. Claire sent her an exasperated look, but chased after him all the same.

"I can't find Press Secretary Spacer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Eh, he's on leave right now."

"On leave?" Claire questioned with disbelief. Rose narrowed her eyes at him, sensing the lie as if she were a parent listening to a child tell a tall tale. His tone, his dismissal, the smell...Rose didn't believe a word this man was saying and it was just so in character for a man that worked in the White House. "But I have an appointment with him," Claire added.

Ryan sighed heavily, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at her while the three of them continued to walk down the loud echo-y hallway. "I don't know what to tell you. Perhaps you mixed up your dates. He's not here."

"Oh, don't you dare gaslight her," Rose snapped, finally drawing his attention to her. Her eyes widened in surprise, having not meant to say that out loud. She pressed her lips together as both Ryan and Claire looked at her with twin looks of shock. Her entire body was tense with new irritation, and she took several deep breaths to calm herself before her eyes began to glow and give her away.

Thankfully, Ryan didn't seem too keen on pissing her off. "I'm sorry," he said to Claire, a little more sincerely than he had been. "I...I have another appointment."

Claire stared after him, a frown pulling at the corners of her lips, her eyes narrowing as she watched Ryan swiftly walk away from their conversation. Rose's throat felt dry as the scent she'd been trying to ignore—the one that mingled with the lingering traces of blood and smoke in the air—grew stronger. It was familiar. That subtle cologne, the faint trace of leather, and something else... a memory. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse quickening as she fought to keep herself still. This was both the best and the worst possible situation.

The scent intensified, and Claire's gasp broke the silence, confirming her suspicions. "Leon?" she breathed, the surprise in her voice impossible to miss.

Rose's body stiffened, a sudden rush of adrenaline washing over her. She swiftly pivoted, slipping behind a nearby pillar, her back pressing against the cool stone as she tried to conceal herself from view. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she tried to control the trembling in her hands. She could hear him now. She could feel him.

Through the gap in the pillar, she saw him—a flash of familiar dark blonde hair. It was Leon. And everything about him seemed so normal. He wasn't the man she remembered, the one who had fought beside her through nightmare after nightmare. No, this version of Leon was a government agent, strolling past with another suited man at his side. His presence, still so commanding, sent a wave of conflicting emotions surging through her.

He stopped suddenly, responding to Claire's call. The sight of him turning around, fully facing them, was enough to steal the breath from her lungs. Her heart stopped cold, her chest tight, as he flashed a smile—a smile that was far too familiar. He hadn't changed. Not really. His hair was a little longer, but it still held that signature 90's heartthrob style. And his eyes—those eyes—still held the same warmth, the same edge of mystery.

He looked... so good. God, she missed him.

When he spoke, his voice was just as she remembered. It felt like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, it was all Rose could do to stay hidden. The sound of his name, a soft wonder in his tone, shattered her composure.

"Claire?" Leon asked, astonished. He turned fully to face her, taking a few steps closer. He was now only a few feet away from Rose, and it took everything she had to stop herself from stepping out of hiding, from revealing herself and saying something foolish like, 'Hey baby, did you miss me?'

Instead, she forced herself to keep still, barely breathing, her pulse hammering in her ears as he and Claire exchanged words.

Claire cleared her throat, stepping forward with the sketchpad still clutched tightly in her hands. "I'm here with some reps and my new friend Miranda," she said, glancing around in an almost conspiratorial manner, her eyes briefly flicking toward Rose's hiding place. The instant their gazes met, Rose immediately shook her head, a silent plea for Claire to keep her cover. Claire hesitated for a moment, but after a beat, she smoothly continued, "From Panamstan's provisional government. We're just trying to get some schools and hospitals built."

"Panamstan?" Leon asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Yeah. The U.S. wants a military presence there, so there's supposed to be some sort of signing ceremony next week," Claire said, shifting the sketchpad a bit. She cleared her throat. "Um, actually, could you take a look at something?"

Leon nodded, flipping open the sketchbook to examine the drawings Claire had carried around so protectively. Rose watched him, her heart sinking as she realized how much time had passed, how much distance had been created between them. And there was something else now—something different in his posture, his tone, like he had closed himself off from the chaos they'd once shared. He was no longer hers in any sense of the word, and that stung more than she cared to admit.

Claire's voice broke through her haze. "A little boy drew them. They're what the civil war looked like six years ago. Doesn't that look a lot like Raccoon City?" Claire sighed, shaking her head slightly, her frustration clear. "I can't get anyone to go on record about what happened there, but after seeing these... I mean, it's gotta be another outbreak."

Leon hummed thoughtfully, nodding. Rose could see how he absorbed the information, though part of her knew that the man standing in front of her now wouldn't have the same reaction to these kinds of drawings. The same man who had fought in Raccoon City had been replaced by someone who could compartmentalize these horrors in a way that made her sick.

Just as she was about to let her thoughts spiral, another voice broke through the tension.

"Leon. Clock's ticking. Let's move."

Rose snapped her attention back to the pair, and her eyes narrowed as a tall, blonde man approached—his polished shoes making a barely audible squeak on the floor. Rose's body tensed. She had been so absorbed in Leon that she'd let her guard down. She mentally kicked herself for that.

And then the man's face registered.

Jason.

The name alone made her gut twist. She watched him approach Leon and Claire, knowing exactly who he was and exactly what he represented. He was part of the machine—the same one that had betrayed her in more ways than she cared to count. Leon was working with him. Of course he was. Jason was hailed as a hero, his actions whitewashed by the government in a way that made Rose's blood boil.

Claire turned toward Rose, her eyes narrowing as if she could sense the shift in the atmosphere. "Wait," she said, her voice edged with curiosity, "Isn't that the guy everyone calls 'the hero of Panamstan?'"

Leon shifted, his gaze drifting to Jason. His face was neutral, unaware of the storm brewing just beneath the surface. "In the flesh," he confirmed, his words casual, as if this man was just another face in the crowd.

Rose's chest tightened as she tried to control the anger that surged within her. She knew exactly what Jason represented. The corrupt, power-hungry side of the operations. She could feel the bile rising in her throat.

But the worst part? Leon didn't even seem to see it. He was just doing his job.

"Look," Leon said, shifting on his feet, "I gotta go. Don't do anything stupid." He turned with his signature shit-eating grin, one that would have made Rose's heart flutter back in the day. But now, it only made her feel hollow. She wasn't the one to make him smile anymore. And maybe, just maybe, that was the worst thing of all.

"Excuse me," Claire joked, chuckling with a warmth that effected Rose even from her hiding spot. "Hey Leon," called Claire and he paused again to peer over at her over his shoulder. "That outfit doesn't suit you."

They both chuckled, and Rose found herself watching his retreating figure, trying to pull herself together.God, she wanted to run after him, to call out his name. But she couldn't. She was no longer the Rose he knew, and she had no place in this new world of his. Not one where he could laugh so easily with Claire. Where his eyes twinkled when he looked at her in a way she wasn't sure she'd ever seen.

As the last trace of his figure disappeared into the distance, Rose let out a shaky breath. She caught Claire already facing her, staring her down with her hands on her hips, sketchpad balanced between her fingers, looking at her expectantly. "So," she said casually. "What was that?"

Rose shifted uncomfortably, pushing herself off the pillar and straightening her posture. She could feel Claire's gaze boring into her, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. She had to admit, she'd been caught off guard—by Leon's sudden appearance, by the way her heart had stupidly jumped at the sound of his voice, by everything.

Claire didn't move, just stood there, waiting, an eyebrow arched in challenge. "You wanna tell me what that was all about?" she repeated, her tone casual, but the edge of suspicion was unmistakable.

Rose could feel herself start to close off, the instinct to protect her emotions kicking in. She hated feeling exposed, hated this unfamiliarity of not having a concrete answer. She could lie, of course. She could deflect, like she always had. But Claire wasn't just anyone. She was sharp. Smart. And clearly, she'd noticed something was off. Rose exhaled slowly, trying to collect herself, trying to find some semblance of control. "It's a long story. Now's not the time or place."

She could have patted herself on the back for that one. Having picked up a trick or two about evading answers from Ada had been wonderful. She could now, finally, see the appeal of leaving someone hanging to draw their own conclusions.

Claire raised an eyebrow, letting her arms drop, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she gave a knowing smile, one that said she wasn't fooled but was willing to let Rose have her space—for now.

"Fair enough," Claire said, her voice casual, but there was an unmistakable gleam in her eye. "But don't think you're getting off that easy. I'll get it out of you eventually." Her tone was light, almost teasing, but Rose could tell she meant it.

Rose smirked, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Okay, well, clearly I'm not going to get what I came here for, should we start hunting down whatever you needed?"

"Already got it," she replied, her eyes trailing back to the exit Leon and Jason had just disappeared through. She needed to get back to her hotel room and figure out a new game plan.

"There was an outbreak in the White House," Rose reports into her Bluetooth. She's standing at her hotel window, peering over the fire escape at the White House. "Probably last night. They're covering it up."

"Not surprising. They won't want anyone to know that," Jackson says, for once not throwing an attitude. It was way too late at night for that, anyway.

"I also had eyes on Jason, briefly. I couldn't detain him. Too many eyes."

"Detain him?" Jackson scoffs. "You're not meant to detain him, agent Kurt."

Rose frowned in confusion. Her briefing had been very clear. They'd used specific terminology so that she would stick close to the plan. "What are you talking about?"

"Your orders are to shoot to kill, Kurt."

Rose steps away from the window, allowing the curtain to fall as she begins to pace the floor. "That wasn't in the packet."

"Things change." She could hear the shift of Jackson's shoulders as he shrugged. "I'm just relaying the message. As luck would have it, you don't have to work very hard. You get to come home."

"What?"

She didn't like changes in plans. It messed with her equilibrium, and she certainly didn't want to go back there so soon.

"Well, when we hacked into the White House servers, apparently we left a signature. They are coming to us. All you have to do, if be here to meet them when they rendezvous."

"It's scary how much you know, Peckerhead."

"Stop calling me that!" He rages through clenched teeth. Rose snickers, unable to help herself. "It's my job to know everything. Now get your ass back to home base, agent!"

"Yeah, yeah. Send me the flight info. I'm taking a nap."