Note: This is an adapted excerpt from my longer Resident Evil fic, "God's Child," which can also be found here on FFnet. However, after I wrote this chapter, I realized it could be a stand-alone story. It's my vision of what Leon and Ada started "that night." Enjoy!

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

By Riot Siren

I'll wear my badge
A vinyl sticker with big block letters
Adherent to my chest
That tells your new friends
I am a visitor here
I am not permanent

And the only thing keeping me dry is
Where I am

You seem so out of context
In this gaudy apartment complex
A stranger with your door key
Explaining that I'm just visiting
And I am finally seeing
Why I was the one worth leaving

-"The District Sleeps Alone Tonight," The Postal Service

October 13, 2006

Washington, D.C.

Tourists preferred Washington D.C. in the springtime when the cherry blossoms were out, but Leon found he liked D.C.'s autumn the best. The swampy heat was gone and the city was charged with a renewed energy as Congress came back from summer recess and students returned to area colleges. Dry leaves swirled at the bases of monuments, and for a few brief weeks, Leon could almost feel hopeful.

"I'm impressed with your buddy Benford," Claire said as they walked beside the Reflecting Pool. The Lincoln Memorial lay ahead of them, gray stone against a grayer autumn sky.

"Senator Benford," Leon corrected her, allowing himself a lopsided grin.

"Ooh, sorry! I forgot how serious everyone is around here." Claire waved her hands in front of her face in fake contrition. "But really, the fact that he even met with somebody like me is a big deal. Most politicians put TerraSave on the same level as friggin' fringe groups." She said the word politician like it was a curse. "The biopharma lobbyists always get to them first," Claire sighed.

"Adam's different," he said. "He gives everyone a fair shake."

"Ahem, don't you mean Senator Benford from the great state of Illinois? And maybe a presidential candidate in a few years?" Claire batted her big slate-colored eyes. "C'mon Agent Kennedy, what's the scoop?

"No comment."

"You're so protective of him! What, did he promise you a big-time job if he gets elected?" She laced her arm through his, pressing against his body as they walked. But there was nothing sensual in Claire's movements. Leon knew he was just another big brother to her. "I can see it now," Claire went on. "My old buddy Leon, head of the U.S. Secret Service. And I'll say I knew him back in the day."

Leon was eager to change the subject. The only thing he hated more than gossiping about the man he owed his career to was talking about himself. "So how about you? Still loving life in San Fran?"

Claire let go of his arm. "Woah, do not call it that. And don't even think about calling it 'Frisco." But then smiled at him, her perpetual auburn ponytail bouncing a bit as she walked. "Yeah, I finally found a sane roommate and TerraSave's new HQ down on the piers is almost done. It's going to be beautiful. We've got this amazing view of the Bay Bridge, and..."

"It's good to see you smile again," he said without thinking.

Claire's face fell and she stopped in her tracks. "I...thanks." She crossed her arms and looked down at the flagstones. "It's stupid. I catch myself when I feel too happy because Chris is still such a mess."

Leon worried she was going to cry again. He'd seen enough of that last night when she'd had too much to drink at dinner and ended up weeping in his arms when they got back to her hotel room.

It's so hard to be strong for him, Claire had confessed. He forgets that Jill was my friend, too.

"But you know what pisses me off the most?" Claire asked, her voice suddenly angry. "I'll never get a chance to personally strangle you-know-who. You remember what he did to me, right? How he fucking roundhouse kicked me in the face and walked away acting all 'sucks to be you'?"

Leon searched the charming heart-shaped face he'd first seen on the worst night of both their lives. She'd always be 19 in his eyes.

"Claire..."

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She shook her head and looked back toward the Lincoln Memorial. "I'm already pissed about cutting this trip short. I am not leaving on a sour note."

That reminded him: Claire needed to leave for Dulles soon. Then Leon had to figure out what to do about Senator Benford's fundraiser that night.

Leon hated the relentless churn of D.C.'s social life, even when it involved someone as admirable as Benford, but he'd RSVP'd because Claire wanted the chance to network. And now she was leaving a day early, called back to San Francisco on official business.

Claire must've been thinking about the same thing. "Oh, I know! Why don't you ask that Ingrid gal to go in my place?" she suggested. "She seemed nice. And she's got that sexy librarian thing going on."

Leon suppressed a grimace. Lord knew he'd tried to go down that path before.

"That's a good idea," he told Claire so wouldn't worry about him.

It was a short walk back to Claire's hotel near George Washington University. Claire grabbed her luggage, the concierge called a taxi and the two of them lingered on the curb for a few minutes.

"I'm really glad we did this," Claire said as she hugged him goodbye. "Only took a year, right?"

A year since Harvardville already? Where did the time go?

Leon watched the taxi drive off and wondered what do next. He'd taken the day off to be with Claire.

Gosh, maybe I should spend some time in this city I supposedly live in?

D.C.'s Foggy Bottom neighborhood was hardly the worst place to linger on a Friday afternoon, but Leon barely noticed the picturesque row houses and pin-neat boutiques. All he could think about was work. Where were the newest hotspots? What disturbing intel would Hunnigan drop on his desk come Monday morning?

Ever since becoming a federal agent, he'd had a front-row seat on a world more divided and radicalized than it had been in decades. The War on Terror was just one part of the mess. Regional conflicts in second- and third-world countries regularly spilled over borders, enabled by pathogens that changed and adapted as quickly as the malcontents who wielded them. Worse still, governments couldn't agree on international regulations for bioweapon technology because many wanted that power for themselves. Leon knew where it had all started. But where would it end?

Maybe Claire had made the better choice. Her bosses weren't bound by bureaucratic red tape. TerraSave constantly needled the U.S. Government for the truth about bioterrorism threats. They investigated pharmaceutical companies more thoroughly than the federal agencies tasked with regulating them—or so TerraSave liked to say.

But on his end, all Leon could do was watch and wait for the next disaster to strike. He nodded over memos and waited for documents to be signed and budgets to be approved. He watched children's faces light up when they saw the massive missiles inside the National Air and Space Museum, knowing he would probably never hold a child of his own. He was getting weary of it all.

Leon pulled back his jacket's sleeve and checked his watch. He had time to linger a while longer, but the afternoon was growing colder and his apartment in the West End had a pile of unwatched Netflix DVDs on the coffee table. Maybe he'd do that tonight instead of putting on one of his rarely-worn suits and braving several hours of awkward small-talk. Benford would probably understand.

That was when he saw her standing in front of a store window not 20 feet away. Her black hair had grown longer since their last meeting as was styled into a rather severe inverted bob. She had a piece of rolling luggage by her side and wore a red leather coat over a pair of jeans. Leon started to walk over as soon as he was sure it was her.

Of course she would show up on Friday the 13th. That was just her style.

"Hi, Ada."

She jerked around and for once could not hide her surprise. "Why, hello there!" Ada said with a little gasp.

Leon stared at her for a second before diving in. "So let me guess: You've been trailing me all day and now you're 'allowing' me to see you." She raised a hand in protest but he didn't let her interrupt. "You've got some nerve coming onto my turf. What do you want?"

"Want? I just got here! I was about to..." Ada's dark eyes went wide. "You found me!"

Was she lying or telling the truth? Was it even worth his time?

"You know what? I don't even want to know." Leon started to walk away. "Nice seeing you, I guess."

"Leon, wait!"

He caught himself mid-stride. Now there was something he never thought he'd hear. He turned around.

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" Ada asked. "Just for a few minutes?" She did look exhausted. She did look like she had no idea what he was talking about.

And there was no denying he'd been waiting years for her to say that.

"Do not make me regret this, Ada."

"You have a Microplane! Perfect!" Ada brandished the kitchen tool with satisfaction.

"A what?" Leon glanced over from his spot on the couch. "Oh, that. Yeah, somebody left it here when they moved out...in a hurry."

His apartment's living room extended back to an open kitchen and he could see Ada had already made herself at home, pulling out pots and strange gadgets he'd forgotten he even owned.

Ada grinned and went back to cutting up the rotisserie chicken they'd bought on the way over. "What was her name?" she asked playfully as she dropped the pieces into a waiting pot of roiling broth.

"It doesn't matter." Leon looked up at a print of a vintage French advertisement hanging on the wall—another abandoned item. "Angela," he said after a moment.

"Ah," Ada murmured, as if he'd just told her the weather forecast.

He stood up and walked over to the counter that divided the kitchen from the rest of the room.

"Wow, you sure are showing that lemon who's boss."

Ada was concentrating on relieving a lemon of its peel, one vigorous scrape against the Microplane at a time. "Stop staring at my chest," she said.

"Just zesting the hell out of it."

Ada tossed the lemon on the counter and glared at him. "I'm sorry, can I help you with something?"

Leon folded his arms and slouched against the counter. "You said we were going to talk. I didn't ask you to make me dinner."

"Well maybe I'm hungry!" Ada snapped, planting her own hands on the counter top. "Maybe I had to hop on a transatlantic flight last night and today was supposed to be my shake-off-the-jet-lag day and instead of being happy to run into me, you accuse me of..." She leaned forward, close enough for Leon to catch the scent of lilacs on her skin. "What exactly, Leon?" she said, clearly irritated. "Being a spy? Being an enemy combatant? All I wanted was a chance to explain a few things."

Leon had imagined this moment for years—all the things he'd ask if he finally had her cornered, all the things he'd say. But bringing her back to his apartment wasn't part of the script. In his mind, this meeting always happened in the roil of chaos, or in a interrogation room surrounded by colleagues who would make sure things didn't get out of hand.

Running into her on the street like an old friend was too disarming, too damn ordinary. And now Ada was cooking dinner. No, not part of the script at all.

Leon rapped the counter with his knuckles. "Fine, explain away."

Ada pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and went back to tending the soup. "There's something big coming, bigger than anything we've seen before." She didn't wait for him to ask what it was. "War," Ada intoned in her deep, aloof voice. "Total war using all those little monsters and viruses you and I know far too much about. But who wants it, I'm not sure. That's what I'm trying to find out."

Leon felt a chill run up his spine as his mind turned back to Claire's crying jag and the botched BSAA mission that had cost Jill Valentine her life.

"I'm sure you have some leads," he said calmly. "You worked for him, after all." He didn't have to say Wesker's name.

Ada smirked. "I worked with him allegedly, thank you very much. But now Wesker's dead—demise number two, if you're keeping track—and this is the first time you're hearing about this war business, isn't it?"

It was, but she didn't need to know that. It sounded crazy. It sounded like a ploy. It it sounded like the very thing he'd secretly dreaded for years.

"Come work for us," Leon told her. "I can get you immunity."

"Work under you, you mean?" Ada enjoyed saying the word 'under' a bit too much. "That's not my style. And immunity from what? We both know you and your lovely friends have nothing solid on me." She looked into the steaming pot on the stove. "Anyway, dinner's ready."

Ada stretched her arms and sank back into the couch cushions. "After all this time, you still think we're on different sides. No, it's worse than that. You think there are 'sides' in the first place."

How dare you sit there acting so normal, Leon wanted to say. How dare you treat national security threats like pillow talk.

"Thanks for cooking," he told her instead.

Ada laced her fingers behind her head and sighed happily. "I think it turned out pretty well. I know someone who's even better in the kitchen. She taught me a trick or two. Wait, what are you doing?"

Leon stood and headed down the hall towards his bedroom. "I have get changed for a thing tonight. Feel free to let yourself out."

The fundraiser was his best way out of this farce. He couldn't stand any more of her baiting, her self-satisfied preening, the way her soft smile promised him everything and her eyes winked it all away.

At least it felt good to be the one walking away for a change.

"We're not done here," she called after him.

"Yes we are."

And he meant it, but wasn't surprised when Ada was still on the couch when he came back out. She smiled and got up when she saw him.

"I wanted to tell you, I like your hair this length. It suits you." She reached out to touch his face but Leon jerked his head to one side. Ada seemed unfazed. "And speaking of suits! Goodness, you clean up nicely. But that tie doesn't quite work. You have others, right? Let me pick one out."

"Ada, this is becoming ridiculous," he said sternly. "I need to leave."

"This is where you're going, right?" Ada held up the fundraiser invitation. Leon wanted to kick himself or, better yet, jump out the window. He'd left it sitting on the coffee table. "It should be fine," Ada said as she unzipped her rolling suitcase and pulled out a mint green qipao dress. "I don't think I'll know anyone there."

"And I'll know all of them," Leon grumbled. "Do you honestly think I'm going to jeopardize my career just so you can get off on leading me around by the nose?"

"Who's leading whom here?" Ada tossed the dress over her arm and fished a pair of high heels out of her bag. "And do you honestly think your bosses work for different people than I do?"

Who are you?

Such a simple question.

Ada. Ada Wong.

He'd had no reason to doubt her. On that awful night, she was just another lost soul, just another person he was supposed to protect. At first, anyway.

"Adam, I'd like you to meet..."

She sidestepped Leon and extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Ada," she told Adam Benford. "I'm an old friend of Leon's sister."

The senator offered his usual pleasant smile and leaned in as he shook Ada's hand. "Oh, how nice. Here visiting?"

"Yes. I work in PR up in New York. I'm just swinging through on business."

"PR? In what area?" he asked.

"Crisis management," Ada said without batting an eyelash. Leon looked at her calm face and felt the knot in his stomach tighten. But there was no flash of recognition in Benford's eyes, no hint of suspicion on his long, professorial face.

"Ah, very interesting." Benford clapped his hand on Leon's left shoulder—his bad shoulder—before an aide sidled up to call him away. Leon did his best not to wince. "You two enjoy yourselves," Benford said as he walked toward another group of people.

Ada's pink shawl slipped down her arm as she led Leon to the side of the room. "You okay?"

"Yeah. He knows about my...I mean..." Leon reached for the spot on his upper chest where a madwoman's bullet had torn through tendon and muscle, barely sparing his full range of motion—and his life. "But he's a busy man. It probably just slipped his mind."

"Well, I've never forgotten," Ada said softly.

The chattering people around them receded as Leon felt the tendrils of memory slither into the room. He'd taken that bullet for her eight years ago. Now she was here in front of him, smelling like springtime and wearing a green dress that clung in all the right places. And here he was, bending to her every whim, forgetting himself in front of people who could ruin him, yet unable to push her away.

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," he confessed.

Her expression softened and Leon thought he saw tears pooling in her eyes. Or maybe it was just the room's low light.

"Excuse me, you're Leon Kennedy, right?" Leon turned to see a middle-aged African American man standing behind him. "Victor Armand," the man said. "Nice to met you."

"Oh hi, I..." Leon squared his shoulders and shook Victor's hand. "Sorry, I'm always a bit thrown when my reputation proceeds me."

Victor smiled and wagged a finger in mock reproach. "Ah, one of the humble ones. We'll see how long you keep that up."

Leon noticed Ada was hanging back and went into deflection mode. "So, what brings you here tonight?" he asked Victor.

"Supporting that fantastic man over there, of course." Victor nodded towards Benford, who was on the far side of the room. "I represent the Global Biopharmaceutical Consortium here in D.C." Victor motioned to a group of people nearby. "We've got a little contingent here tonight. Care to join us? There's lots of interesting things going on these days, don't you think? I'm happy the Senator is open to hearing our concerns."

Leon followed him reluctantly. Maybe Benford wasn't immune to special interests after all. He knew he had no right to be disappointed; lobbyists were omnipresent in Washington. There was only so much one person could do to fight the system. At least the Consortium were the good guys.

Aren't they?

Ada fell in by his side, tossing Leon an amused glance that let him know she was back to her usual self. Soon, she was trading friendly jabs with Victor. The conversation turned trivial, but Leon noticed Ada was slowly drawing bits of information from their companions: where they were from, what they did for the Consortium, how many children they had, even their personal political leanings.

Leon was content to stay silent and marvel at her. She wasn't putting on a show for him, either. Ada seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself. Someone cracked a bawdy joke and Leon was startled when he saw Ada double over, practically convulsing with laughter. He realized he'd never actually heard her laugh before. Then someone mentioned the European drug giant Tricell and Victor steered them all back to terra firma.

"Apparently it's been business as usual since old man Gionne died," Victor said. "His daughter technically took over, but she's caught up in some pet project. She lets the VPs run the day-to-day."

"But who's really running the show over there?" Ada asked.

"Miss, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to insinuate something," Victor drawled.

"I find it's best to assume companies like Tricell are up to no good," Leon said, immediately turning heads. "Saves a lot of time."

Victor rubbed his chin and chuckled, but Leon thought he saw annoyance bubbling behind the older man's perfectly-practiced grin. "Now that is exactly the kind of anti-business attitude we're seeing too much of in Washington these days."

"No one's debating Tricell's right to exist," Ada chimed in as she put her hand on Leon's back. "But let's not pretend money alone is going save us."

Victor blinked. "Save us from what?"

Ada was still wearing her Mona Lisa smirk when they got back to his apartment.

"I have an early flight," she said. "No point in getting a hotel at this hour. So if it's all the same to you, I'll just crash on the couch."

Leon switched on a lamp and watched her bend down to take off her shoes. There was a strange intimacy in this moment, as if they were just a normal couple returning home after an evening out. But Leon knew it wasn't true, and he felt old anger flare up inside him.

"What was that all about?" he demanded.

"Hmm?" Ada turned to face him, all innocence.

"Tonight. You messing with those lobbyists."

She crossed her arms and the smile faded. "It's called intelligence gathering. Surely you've heard of it."

"So that's why you're here after all." And she'd used him. As usual.

"No, Leon," Ada said with an exasperated sigh. "I am on assignment. I wouldn't lie to you about that. But tonight was a coincidence—a useful one, though. I've heard of Mr. Armand. He protects the Consortium's interests in the U.S. and he obviously knows more than he's letting on."

"This isn't about him!" Leon shouted. The stoic façade he'd held up all evening was crumbling fast. It was the same dilemma as always. Trust her or don't trust her? Take her in for questioning or shove her onto the nearest horizontal surface and just take her already? And if she left now, would he ever see her again?

There's something big coming...

After an agonizing moment of silence, Ada suddenly closed the space between them, laid her hands against his chest and leaned in to kiss him.

War.

Before her lips could reach his, Leon grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back. "Another useful coincidence?" he asked.

"For God's sake!" Ada spun away and pressed her palms to her forehead. "You're here, I'm here, and we can actually talk for a change!" Leon heard the anger in her voice, saw it rising in the pink flush of her cheeks. "That's the first thing I thought when I saw you earlier," Ada said as she dropped her hands and walked toward him again. "Why not today? Why not now?"

"Because it's all just a game to you!" he spat, moving to put the couch between them. "You show up, light a fire under me and leave. That's all you've ever done."

Ada glared back at him. When she spoke, her voice was low but strong. "It takes two, Leon. You're just as much a part of this as I am," she said. "Why can't you accept that today was serendipity? We could finally have some fun with nothing standing in our way. But just look at you." Ada let out a short chuckle and put her hands on her hips. "You're bound and determined to be miserable."

"I'm miserable because of you!" Leon yelled at her, making her jump a little. "You're in here, right here, and there's no taking you out!" He thumped his hand against the place where the bullet struck his body. "I've tried to move on, Ada. I don't even want to think about how many times I've tried. But there always comes a point when I look at a woman I'm supposed to be with, a woman I'm supposed to love and..." The rage drained out of him when he registered the pain on Ada's face, but he need to finish. "And all I can see you."

"Wow," was all she said. Ada crossed her arms again and turned away from him, sucking in a long breath as she walked to her suitcase. "I...I'll leave."

"Ada..."

"No, I get it. I've ruined your life." Ada was moving quickly now, wrapping her pink shawl around her neck like a scarf and grabbing a pair of flats from her suitcase. "I just thought that...today..." She caught herself and shook her head. "It doesn't matter what I thought."

He tried to will himself to say something, though Leon knew letting her go was the only way to salvage the mess. He'd put this strange episode in the box with all his other memories of her and close it, maybe for the last time. But...

Why not today?

Then Leon knew. It had to be today, because tomorrow wasn't coming.

He couldn't get across the room fast enough. Ada threw her arms around his shoulders and he did not resist her kiss this time. But there was no tenderness in her lips; only hunger. He felt Ada's hands clench the fabric of his shirt and Leon could not push back the memory of the last time he'd held her—the moment when her breathing stopped and she went limp in his arms.

War.

No, not tonight. The body pressed against his was warm and alive and ready. Leon pulled away from her and lapsed into autopilot, making sure the front door was locked, then bursting into the bathroom to find a box of condoms he knew was in a drawer.

Ada was waiting for him in the bedroom. He paused for a moment to look at her body silhouetted against the dull light that shone between the Venetian blinds. How many times had he imagined this moment? How many times had he plotted it out like a movie, the things he'd say, the parts of her body he'd touch first?

He pushed her back onto the mattress and reached up her dress to pull off her thong. Ada moaned and his fingers lingered and explored, then he found the zipper on the side of her dress and helped her wriggling out of it. She lay back on the bed Angela had chosen for their future—a future he'd destroyed by murmuring Ada's name in his sleep—and held out her hand.

The room was dark, but they found what they needed.

Ada looked at her cell phone. "My flight leaves at 6:40. I may as well head out."

She felt Leon's eyes on her as she stood and gathered her clothes from the floor.

"I'll try to pass on any useful intel," she said. "but promise me you'll keep an eye on the Consortium and Tricell."

Leon was silent. He hadn't spoken since his whisper of "I love you" moments before they'd plunged into each other. And between sobs, she'd said it back to him. She'd said it back and meant it. Not that it could make a difference now.

"What do you think would happen if I don't go?" Ada asked, though she already had some possibilities in mind. She'd use her connections to get a job in D.C., maybe as an analyst or a consultant. She'd move in with him. Then she'd say they didn't have enough furniture so they'd buy more. They'd put in an offer on a house. They'd go to City Hall some Friday afternoon and get married. Then her parents would move closer to help with the baby and...

"We'd live," Leon said softly.

She sighed and looked at the crumpled dress in her hands. "Will you wait for me?"

"I can try," he said. "But I don't know."

Ada nodded and felt a rueful smile tug at her lips. "I need to go," she said.

Leon said nothing as she got out of bed. He said nothing as she dressed and repacked her rolling suitcase. He still did not speak when she headed down the hall towards the door. Silence wasn't the answer she wanted, but Ada knew it was certainly the one she deserved.