Prompt: Ada/Leon with the phrase "I think you missed your calling."

Leon frantically let his fingers fly across the computer keys. The files that flashed across the screen quickly hid themselves on a flash drive he had slipped into the CPU. He was so engrossed in his work that he did not hear the woman come up behind him.

"You're really taking those files over quickly," she said, twirling a USB stick of her own though her fingers. "I think you missed your calling."

"Ada…" said Leon, the name hanging on his tongue as it slipped out of his mouth.

"Look, I won't bother you if you won't bother me," said Ada, leaning on the desk next to the keyboard. "We both came for the same thing, and we can both have it."

"Mine's going to the UN for security reasons, on direct orders from the president," said Leon. "I'm well aware how classified this information is. I don't need it going to the highest bidder."

"Leon, there's no need to be so cold," said Ada, dragging out the last word a bit longer than the others. "You act like we have no history."

"That's what it is," said Leon. "History."

A slight smile twinged at Ada's mouth. She loved it when he got all self-righteous. It made him hard to get, a challenge, a conquest. "Maybe this isn't going anywhere but my pockets," she said, brushing his arm with her hand. He pulled away, but Ada was able to tell that he hesitated, ever-so-slightly.

"So what if it was?" asked Leon. "I know you Ada."

"Do you?"

"And that's what makes me so nervous," said Leon, keeping his eyes on the screen, transferring files much more slowly now. "I don't even know."

"You've trusted me before," said Ada.

"So I have," said Leon.

"And now look—you're following in my footsteps."

Leon was on his feet, in her face. "I am not following in your footsteps," he said. "I'm not looking out only for myself. Unlike you, I can think of others." Ada didn't say anything. "Do you have any idea how your actions affect others? How what you do destroys lives?" Images of mutilated, reanimated bodies flashed across Leon's brain.

"I hope you're not talking about yourself right now," said Ada. "You're not selfish enough for that." He hand brushed his arm again, and he didn't pull away. "Maybe," she said, coming even closer to him, "you should be."

Ada closed her eyes and her lips met his, and his arms were wrapped around her. One of her hands clutched his head, his hair, the other finding its own resting place. Leon pulled back for a moment, but then returned the kiss with another, fiercer, and she returned his advancement, running her hand up his back.

"Leon," she muttered, backing up after the kiss had waned. "If you're going to be like me, maybe you do need to think more about yourself."

A beeping came from the computer behind him, and Leon turned to it. A red progress bar flashed in the middle of the screen, along with the words "ALL CONTENT DELETED." Leon pressed a few keys, but the files were all gone from the computer, without a trace. He turned back to Ada, but she was gone, as well. He slumped into the chair at the desk, staring at the unhelpful screen, and pulled his flash drive out of the CPU.

After glancing at it, he saw that it was not his flash drive at all. It was bright red, while his had been black, with the president's seal. The drive was the same USB drive he had seen twirling through the woman's fingers. That meant that the drive with the files laid with her. Leon let out a sigh.

Ada, listening from the other side of the door, heard the sigh and left the facility without a smile on her face.