If there was anything the government required absolutely and completely, it was punctuality. Hunnigan had reamed Leon out enough times for being what was essentially on time, but not adhering to the standard etiquette of five-to-ten-minutes early, that doing so had since become a habit.
The city lights and sounds were nothing, just white noise to him. In a strange way, it was vaguely reassuring, being alone in a crowd of other people. The same leather jacket was wrapped around him, and he pulled at the sleeve idly before realizing something.
The last time he'd seen Jill Valentine must have been at least six years ago. Had it really been that long? The fall of Umbrella had been in 2003, and he definitely hadn't seen her since then. Granted, that wasn't unexpected, seeing as the Anti-Umbrella group had been broken up shortly afterwards. Still, it was somewhat surprising. He didn't really feel like he'd changed, but then again, she probably wouldn't, either. Even so, from his memories she was friendly and hardworking, if a little stern at times, and determined to take down the corrupt corporation. By his recollection they hadn't actually been deployed together, but had certainly seen enough of each other around the base of operations.
But what was she doing now? Leon guessed there was only one way to find out as he pushed open the door to the bar. He'd always liked the place, it was quiet, wasn't one of those places that blared the music until you were deaf. Not that he had a particular problem with that, more the fact that he wasn't a big fan of shouted conversations, particularly when catching up with an old comrade.
Glancing around the room, he noted a few people-- including the bartender, Tim, who nodded amicably in his direction before returning to cleaning a glass-- before noticing someone at the opposite end of the bar. Same hair as he remembered, the same cut, even. And also the same preference for the color blue. He gave a slight smile before dropping into the chair.
"Hey. Been awhile, huh?" With a different person it might have been awkward, forced, and while there was the normal edge of wariness that might be expected when meeting with someone you knew a long time ago, it was noticeably better than it might have been. It was easier to talk to fellow combatants than to civilians, for whatever reason.
Jill broke into a warm grin when she spotted him, swiveling her stool in his direction. "Hey," she replied, her tone equal to her expression. "It has--coming on six years, I think."
Sure enough, he looked the same--older, of course, and with that same subtle but detectable air about him that people in their position always seemed to carry: a maturity, almost, that most others seemed to lack, or maybe it was just a mutual understanding of similar circumstances. The knowledge of what it was like to go through hell, to be blunt. Or maybe survivors of their situations just projected that onto others like them.
Whatever the case, there was definitely a more experienced look about Leon than Jill remembered.
"But it's great to see you again--I wasn't sure you'd remember me," she admitted, her smile turning some vague shadow of sheepish.
He smiled a bit more openly now, with an amused noise under his breath. "Forget about you? Really? Come on, my memory's not that bad." Granted, she'd also looked much the same from a distance, which had definitely helped a great deal. If she hadn't, he would have ended up awkwardly trying to get a good look at her without letting her know he was looking at her. Such was usually the nature of meeting like this.
Looking over Jill more carefully, he started noticing smaller details. She looked older, of course, and with the same invisible but ever-present weight that seemed common among those involved with bio-terrorism. The general feel of her seemed strained, too, like she was too little fabric stretched over too much area. Stress, maybe?
His elbow came to rest down on the bartop as "Curious, though. What brings you to D.C.?" Well, obviously it was political in one way or another, but he was curious as to the specifics.
His comment got a good-natured chuckle out of her. "Now I don't feel so bad for calling you up out of the blue like that," she joked.
At the question, Jill exhaled silently, but her smile stayed as she drummed her fingers along the side of her as-of-yet-untouched drink. "Business, pretty much. I mentioned before that Chris and I are with the B.S.A.A. these days; there've been a lot of loose ends to tie up since our last mission in Kijuju, Africa." She glanced at Leon, looking for a sign that he recognized the topic. Considering all that had gone down over there, there was no way the American government hadn't caught wind of most of the details, but she could only wonder how much someone in Leon's position would know. "That's pretty much what we've been running around here for," she concluded. "That, and a few other paperwork matters."
Like the Alliance helping her through all the complications that came with trying to revert one's legally dead status.
The city lights and sounds were nothing, just white noise to him. In a strange way, it was vaguely reassuring, being alone in a crowd of other people. The same leather jacket was wrapped around him, and he pulled at the sleeve idly before realizing something.
The last time he'd seen Jill Valentine must have been at least six years ago. Had it really been that long? The fall of Umbrella had been in 2003, and he definitely hadn't seen her since then. Granted, that wasn't unexpected, seeing as the Anti-Umbrella group had been broken up shortly afterwards. Still, it was somewhat surprising. He didn't really feel like he'd changed, but then again, she probably wouldn't, either. Even so, from his memories she was friendly and hardworking, if a little stern at times, and determined to take down the corrupt corporation. By his recollection they hadn't actually been deployed together, but had certainly seen enough of each other around the base of operations.
But what was she doing now? Leon guessed there was only one way to find out as he pushed open the door to the bar. He'd always liked the place, it was quiet, wasn't one of those places that blared the music until you were deaf. Not that he had a particular problem with that, more the fact that he wasn't a big fan of shouted conversations, particularly when catching up with an old comrade.
Glancing around the room, he noted a few people-- including the bartender, Tim, who nodded amicably in his direction before returning to cleaning a glass-- before noticing someone at the opposite end of the bar. Same hair as he remembered, the same cut, even. And also the same preference for the color blue. He gave a slight smile before dropping into the chair.
"Hey. Been awhile, huh?" With a different person it might have been awkward, forced, and while there was the normal edge of wariness that might be expected when meeting with someone you knew a long time ago, it was noticeably better than it might have been. It was easier to talk to fellow combatants than to civilians, for whatever reason.
Reply
Sure enough, he looked the same--older, of course, and with that same subtle but detectable air about him that people in their position always seemed to carry: a maturity, almost, that most others seemed to lack, or maybe it was just a mutual understanding of similar circumstances. The knowledge of what it was like to go through hell, to be blunt. Or maybe survivors of their situations just projected that onto others like them.
Whatever the case, there was definitely a more experienced look about Leon than Jill remembered.
"But it's great to see you again--I wasn't sure you'd remember me," she admitted, her smile turning some vague shadow of sheepish.
Reply
Looking over Jill more carefully, he started noticing smaller details. She looked older, of course, and with the same invisible but ever-present weight that seemed common among those involved with bio-terrorism. The general feel of her seemed strained, too, like she was too little fabric stretched over too much area. Stress, maybe?
His elbow came to rest down on the bartop as "Curious, though. What brings you to D.C.?" Well, obviously it was political in one way or another, but he was curious as to the specifics.
Reply
At the question, Jill exhaled silently, but her smile stayed as she drummed her fingers along the side of her as-of-yet-untouched drink. "Business, pretty much. I mentioned before that Chris and I are with the B.S.A.A. these days; there've been a lot of loose ends to tie up since our last mission in Kijuju, Africa." She glanced at Leon, looking for a sign that he recognized the topic. Considering all that had gone down over there, there was no way the American government hadn't caught wind of most of the details, but she could only wonder how much someone in Leon's position would know. "That's pretty much what we've been running around here for," she concluded. "That, and a few other paperwork matters."
Like the Alliance helping her through all the complications that came with trying to revert one's legally dead status.
Reply
Leave a comment