// don't worry I'm never going to say that again....

dokidoki

No wonder Chris never stopped talking about her.

"I heard you were off the books. Read about the Majini. Nasty stuff."

Albert Wesker. Barry Burton. Chris Redfield, and...

"Jill Valentine," he surmised, setting the briefcase on the ground.

"Never made S.T.A.R.S. I was just a rookie who showed up too late."

Trying to skirt around the elephant in the room carefully as not to offend her. She seemed nice.

"You? Dated for the holiday?" he repeated, a slightly amused glint in his eyes.

"Me, I prefer vintage."

A playful reply. Then it hit him. S.T.A.R.S. T-Virus. Older than she looks. Much older.

He'd heard from Chris. Read in the files long ago. Arklay Mountains. Right outside Raccoon.

"I don't think it'll be as easy as scheduling a meeting, but... I'll bite. What do you need?"

"Help?" he repeated.

Leon's old eyes met the tyrant, or at least what appeared to be.

Ah. Resources.

The president could trust him. After everything he'd been through with the last few? He'd have to.

But... they were weapons once.

Better make good, and don't piss anyone off.

"... I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume you know who I am already."

Bioweapons uprising against bioterrorism. Why hadn't this come up on his radar before?
Suffice it to say, he was impressed. Truly, irrevocably impressed.

"Looks like you guys are doing well," he admitted, even if he didn't fully trust the rest.

...

Well, this was quaint.

Leon shifted somewhat in the chair. He really hated being carried, unless it was by a pretty woman.

"... You paying, or am I using the company card?"

"No kidding. Guess it's been a while since I checked their catalogue."

Leon grabbed the spray from the briefcase and set it on the ground, lifting himself up with a grunt. He reached his hand out to help her up.

"You seem to know your way around. Trouble follow you often, Miss-?"

"Not for me. Gotta throw their scents off."

Deciding to take a bite of a brownie too.

"These are delicious, by the way."

"If that doesn't do the trick. In my line of business, you see a lot of festering wounds turn into festering hell on Earth."

Not that he realized who he was talking to.

"Black market? Sure it wasn't a Spirit Halloween?"

His eyes sharpened on her wounds. The herbs seemed to be doing the trick. Quick, as usual.

She was rugged. That wound looked like it hurt. He'd seen burns like that in Javier. Long time ago now.

"I've got first aid spray in the box."

"EMPs? Sure not your average boating company.

So, what's the story? Crawfishing didn't cut the bills anymore, so they started dealing in bioweapons?"

- he had orders. And just what were your orders today, Leon?

"Never hurts to be prepared. Plus, the last time I came unprepared, people walked away."

It was cutting, and laced with subtext, but weren't they always?