"Finally," The DSO agent muttered to himself, closing the door behind him and locking it. The dirty blonde then set his duffle bag down on the ground next to the shoe rack, lessening the tension in his shoulders.

    After the seemingly never-ending flight from the west coast back to Washington DC, Leon was more than glad to be back home, back in the comfort of his own penthouse apartment. The dirty-blonde made his way towards the living room, sitting down on top of his lawson couch and beginning to untie his leather combat boots. As soon as the shoes laces were undone, Leon kicked off his boots, resting both of his sore feet on top of the nearby ottoman and tilting his back against the lead colored couch.

    A contented sigh left the blonde's lips; relishing every minute of relaxation he hasn't had in quite a long time. With the way the world is nowadays, the very idea of any sort of leisure seemed more like a luxury to the government agent, considering the burdens and responsibilities that weigh down on his shoulders virtually 24/7. Despite the possible repercussions and millstones that came with his line of work, Leon didn't ever regret his choice of profession at all, not in the slightest. Throughout all of the hardships he's had to endure, the monsters he's had to face, and the nonstop bloodshed he's seen, Leon knows that he is making a difference in the world; a global kind of difference. Not only has the dirty-blonde saved the world countless times from the dangers of bioterrorism, he's also extricated the lives of a number of people as well.

    If he didn't save Manuela from Javier Hidalgo, her demented man of a father, she would've gotten herself killed not knowing that she wasn't going to actually die due to the T-Veronica virus that was residing inside of her. Even though protecting her wasn't apart of his mission, Leon still went out of his way to help her, despite his partner's opposing opinions. If he didn't rescue the former president's daughter from the Los Illuminados nor kill off the leader of the deranged cult, Osmund Saddler, Ashley would've died without his help eight years ago, and the terrorist group would still be trying to take over the world using illicit, manipulative means to do so. If he didn't save Buddy from himself, the freedom fighter would've committed suicide to prevent himself from turning. Instead, the D.S.O agent had shot him in the abdomen, killing the Las Plagas parasite residing in his stomach and also paralyzing him from the waist down as a result.

    As Leon recollected each and every one of his principled deeds in the field, he remembered all of his friends, his comrades, along with his fellow citizens as well. All of those innocent lives lost due to the ramifications that bioterrorism precipitates. Mike, Luis, JD... He could never forget about them; they didn't deserve to go out the way they did. None of them did. Still, Leon knew that there was nothing he could've done to save them, no matter how many times he had thought about it. They all were well aware of the plausible consequences that their actions would bring them. That was their choice and their choice alone, nothing couldn't have been done to change their minds otherwise.

    And then there was her, Ada Wong. The bitch in the red dress. The rose among the thorns. The ravenette that haunted the darkest depths of his very mind. The only woman known to seductively toy with Leon's emotions more than he could ever count, and still be able to get away with it. The government agent would be lying if he said that if he didn't feel any sort of emotional attraction towards the female spy, feeling erotic towards the young woman would be oversimplifying it. Ada was as sly as a fox, so secretive yet cunning in her own fashion, from the way she acted to the way she fought in the midst of battle. Her devious persona made her a one of an unequaled kind of secret agent, unparalleled in wisdom and unrivaled in action.

It's been years, fourteen to be exact, since the two of them had first met, back in Raccoon City. And ever since then, so much had changed. Leon was no longer the rookie cop he started out to be, he was now one of the most accomplished and competent agents within the Division of Security Operations. Not bad for a thirty-five-year-old man, wouldn't you say? As for Ada, not much has changed for her, at least to Leon's knowledge. After the Raccoon City Incident, Ada still carried on with her lavish life as a double agent, occasionally dropping in to say a quick hello to Leon from time to time. The last time Ada paid a visit to Leon, the dirty-blonde had finally mustered up the courage to admit his feelings of endearment for her, only to be coldly rejected.

    Leon knew that this would happen, still, it didn't hurt to try. Right? Nope. Not in his case. What Leon didn't expect though was the way Ada turned him down. He remembered that day all too well. Every word that came out of the spy's mouth was as if knives were being stabbed into his very heart, and well sharpened ones too. Throughout that whole time, Ada looked daggers in his direction, her chestnut colored eyes flickering with a sort of disdain that he'd never seen on her before. If looks could kill, Leon would've been long dead by now. Granting that the ravenette clarified to him that she never felt the same way towards him, she was short, sweet, and to the point during the entire conversation. Freely speaking her opinion and not holding back one bit. Before Leon had a chance to say another word, Ada vanished without a trace, leaving him alone once again to take in her heartfelt rejection.

Shortly after the bombshell confrontation, Leon resumed living his normal day-to-day life, putting a smile on his chiseled face and pretending to be in good spirits as usual. Showing everyone around him that he was a-ok. Even though the dirty-blonde appeared to be just fine on the outside, he was still hurting on the inside. Both emotionally and physically. Ada had left behind one hell of a scar, a deep scar that would never heal no matter how many years would pass by. She was a part of him that he couldn't let go; something he couldn't do even after what had happened. Maybe not right now, not in this very second.

    The sound of his smartphone going off in his pocket abruptly pulled Leon from his train of thought, directing his attention towards the incoming call. Digging his phone out of his jean pocket, the DSO agent answered the call, holding the cellular device up to his ear.

    "Hello?" His tone sounding slightly somber.

    "Hey Leon," A familiar voice greeted him. A smile curled onto the agent's lips.

    "Oh hey Claire," He greeted his long time friend, his tone instantly lightening up. The dirty-blonde sat up off the couch, casually ambling over toward the kitchen. "It's been awhile."

    "Indeed it has, Leon. Two years to be exact," Claire informed him.

    "How have you been lately?" Leon inquired, opening up the refrigerator door and grabbing a can of Sprite out of it before closing the fridge.

"I've been rather busy, that's what," The redhead replied, her tone laced with a hint of weariness.

The DSO agent put his phone on speaker, setting the device on the marble counter-top. "Same here. I've never been more relieved in my life to have the next three days off," Leon pulled back the soda tab, before taking a lengthy sip out of the soft drink. It was about time that he cut back a bit on the alcohol.

"That must sound nice." Leon strolled over towards the living room with his phone and drink in hand, sitting down in one of the armchairs and setting one foot on top of the nearby ottoman.

"Oh you have no idea, Claire," The dirty-blonde took another sip out of his soda, washing the refreshing drink down his parched throat. "Aside from that, how have things been with you and your boyfriend, Zack?"

"We just broke up," The redhead responded, using a dismayed tone of voice. "I broke it off with him three days ago, and I'd rather not talk about it right now."

Leon furrowed his eyebrows, shock clouding his features for a brief moment. "Well look on the bright side, now you have all the time in the world to binge watch as many episodes of Supernatural as you want."

Claire let out a jocular chuckle, more glad than ever of how much of a kind and considerate man that her best friend was. "So, are you doing anything in particular tomorrow?" She inquired, her question slightly taking Leon by surprise.

"No Ms. Redfield, for once my schedule isn't completely booked. Why do you ask?" Leon replied, placing his other foot on top of the ottoman

"I was hoping that we could hang out tomorrow morning, catch up over cup of coffee."

"Am I hearing things? Or is the one and only Claire Redfield actually asking me out on a date? You're quite the Valkyrie, aren't you," The dirty-blonde teased, tilting his back against the leathery surface of the armchair.

"It's not a date you big dummy, it's only a simple get together for two close friends. That's all."

"Don't you work at all tomorrow?"

"Nope, I have the whole day off," Claire beamed, using a buoyant tone of voice.

"Then where do you want to meet up at? My place or your place tomorrow morning?" The agent questioned his friend.

"How does my place sound?"

"Sounds good to me." Leon honestly didn't mind where they met up at, whether it was at the mall or at a Linkin Park concert for all he cared. As long as they get to hang out with one another, the government agent didn't have a care in the world where they would meet up at.

"You remember my address still, hero?" Claire asked her friend, making sure he knew how to reach her place.

"Like the back of my hand."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow, Claire."

"Bye Leon." The redhead hung up on him, thus ending the phone call between the two of them.