Chapter Text
Leon attended Adam Benford’s state funeral. He kept to the corners throughout the service, quietly watching the mourners come and go, feeling exactly like he was back on protective duty in the old days.
After the ceremony, he was escorted to speak with the Former First Lady. He had met her in the White House several times whenever Ben called him in for briefings, but she should’ve known he was the one who pulled the trigger on her husband. To say he was surprised by the invitation was an understatement.
She sat on a sofa, draped in a signature widow’s veil, looking just as elegant as he remembered. She possessed the same warm yet razor-sharp eyes that her late husband used to read people. Leon offered his quiet condolences. Mrs. Benfold simply looked at him in silence.
With a slight wave of her hand, she signaled her Secret Service detail to give them the room. As the door clicked shut behind them, she gestured toward the seat across from her.
“Agent Kennedy, I have never had the opportunity to express my gratitude to you for fighting the battles against bioweapons. Adam always spoke highly of your contributions.”
“It’s the least I could do, Mrs. Benfold. Adam made this world a safer place.” Leon remained standing. He knew firsthand how quickly things spiraled out of control without the administration's swift interventions and resources dedicated to monitoring the black market. “It was my honor,” he reassured her. Still, it felt wrong to speak so casually to a grieving widow when they had buried the truth that Simmons murdered Adam for along with his empty coffin, wrapping it neatly in a flag of his achievements.
“I have no authority over you, Agent Kennedy. Please, take a seat,” Mrs. Benfold insisted.
As Leon sat, she turned her gaze to a collection of Adam’s photographs on the side table. She picked up a framed snapshot from the day he won the election, her gloved hand caressing his face lovingly. “Adam never said it aloud, but I knew every time there was an outbreak, he would spend the entire night just staring at the ceiling. He fancied himself a pragmatist, but it seems he was still too much of an idealist for this line of work, wasn't he?”
Adam had certainly talked like an idealist, but he had never minded getting his hands dirty. He was the one who had pulled Leon into the government and forged him into a weapon so Leon could avenge Raccoon City and fight his shadow wars. Leon knew how difficult it was to hold onto one's faith when granted absolute power; he had seen too many powerful men drown in their own greed. He and Adam hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, but Leon recognized that the President had shielded him from a fair share of moral breakdowns.
“Adam turned his vision into a reality,” Leon said after a pause. “And no one would have uncovered Simmons’ true agenda before the tragedy.”
“No. And thank you for exposing Simmons' true colors.” Mrs. Benfold set the frame down, her eyes locking onto Leon's. “The man dared to offer his condolences to my face like a close family friend, when he was the one who plotted Adam's murder.” Her jaw tightened.
“There is still a lot of housecleaning to do, and I know you will get to the bottom of it. I will do whatever needs to be done with the party and Congress using every ounce of leverage I have. Your work will not be swept under someone's desk. You have my word.”
Leon saw a piece of Adam's fierce resolve mirroring back at him. Mrs. Benfold came from a powerful political family herself; Adam had openly admitted that his wife was the architect behind much of his career.
“Anything for Adam, Ma’am. And I am incredibly sorry for how things unfolded.”
“You brought the truth home. That is more than enough.” She studied the dark, exhausted circles under Leon’ eyes. “I know you must still be recovering, and that the aftermath has kept you busy. Thank you for making time to speak with me.”
Leon shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Benfold. I miss him, too.” Taking the cue, he stood up and prepared to take his leave.
“You are a kind man, Agent Kennedy.”
Leon offered a faint, melancholy smile and shook his head again before heading for the door.
As his hand touched the brass handle, Mrs. Benfold’s voice cut through the quiet room in a chilling whisper. “All I have left now is vengeance.”
Leon paused, taking one last look at the elegant woman cloaked in black. “You chose the truth, and you're making the people responsible pay for it. There’s a difference, Mrs. Benfold.” With that, he opened the door and waved her protective detail back inside.
…
Ada jumped the moment Leon opened the apartment door. She must have passed out early in the evening. In a flash of pure instinct, she reached for her gun and aimed it directly at the entrance. Leon was already ducked behind the entryway cabinet for cover, his hand gripping his knife.
Recognizing him, Ada slowly lowered the weapon. “Sorry. I fell asleep.”
Leon closed the door and flipped the light switch, kicking off the Oxford shoes he’d worn to the funeral. “Exhausted, huh?” It was incredibly rare to find her asleep, let alone drifting deep enough to lose track of her surroundings.
“Look who's talking.” Ada noted the heavy shadows under his eyes as she holstered the gun, stretching her stiff neck.
As Leon set his shoes aside, he paused. “Hungry? There’s a good takeout place around the corner.”
Ada glanced at the wall clock. “I take it you’ve already eaten?”
“Yeah... grabbed something on the way back,” Leon lied smoothly.
Ada stood up and walked over to him. Stepping into his personal space, she leaned in close, her eyes narrowing slightly as she subtly sniffed his collar. Leon subconsciously held his breath, unsure of what she was hunting for, though he thoroughly enjoyed the way her perfume filled the silence.
“You’re sober,” Ada remarked, looking up. She flashed him a smile and headed toward the kitchen.
Leon loved the way her wit and those red lips could instantly curve into a sweet, tempting smile. Just like that, the oppressive weight of Mrs. Benfold sitting alone in the sunroom and his own haunting thoughts lifted. Suddenly, he had room to breathe again.
She would never fully understand how her little teasing smiles made his heart beat a little lighter, no matter how dire or dangerous the world became. Even when he was knee-deep in treason accusations, he hadn’t been able to stop his lips from curling whenever she flashed a smile at him.
Mirroring her grin, Leon followed her into the kitchen. “I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while, so—”
“There’s chicken and ribeyes in the fridge,” Ada interrupted, already pulling the ingredients out.
Leon stared at the items she was magically producing from his previously barren refrigerator and lining up on the kitchen island. “You did grocery shopping for me? The infamous spy, Ada Wong?”
Ada rolled her eyes. “Only the first time is on the house, Agent Kennedy. And that’s strictly due to your excellent track record.” She placed the ribeyes on a plate and began sprinkling them with salt and pepper.
Leon grinned. He definitely wouldn’t mind paying for future instances, assuming there were any. Peeking over her shoulder, he watched her movements, realizing she was an absolute professional in the kitchen.
“You know, I’m actually still a bit peckish,” Leon implied, stepping up right next to her against the counter.
Ada paused, giving him a look. “I thought you said you fed yourself on the way home.”
Leon tilted his head, flashing his most charming smirk. “There’s always room for dessert.”
They locked eyes for a silent second. Leon blinked innocently, and Ada let out a soft huff. “Fine.”
“Yes.” Leon let out a small breath of triumph and pulled a second steak from the wrapper. He turned to find Ada staring at him. “Hmm?” he asked, placing it on the plate next to her portion.
His initial bewilderment slowly gave way to a faint, rare hint of embarrassment. Shaking her head in amusement, Ada began seasoning Leon's steak as well.
Cute. She thought.
His kitchen was exceptionally well-organized and stocked with high-end utensils. Ada hadn’t taken the time to audit every cabinet, but everything she needed was already laid out logically across the counter and the island.
Leaving the meat to marinate, she moved on to the potatoes. She picked up a paring knife from the counter, flipping it idly like a toy before she started peeling.
Leon had seen her toy with lethal weapons countless times, so he had no doubt she could peel a potato with surgical ease. He used to twirl knives himself, but the sight of Ada Wong peeling a potato after casually flipping a blade was incredibly provocative—and heartachingly domestic.
Ada felt the absolute weight of his gaze on the back of her head. “Those bell peppers won’t cut themselves, handsome.”
“Right. At your service, Ma’am.” Leon washed his hands, grabbing a spare cutting board and another knife from the rack. He gave the blade a swift twirl, tossed a bell pepper into the air, and pinned it expertly to the board on its descent.
Ada shook her head. Show-off.
Leon chuckled, almost as if he could hear her thoughts. “Do you want them sliced or diced?” He cleanly sliced off the top and bottom of the pepper, made a vertical cut down the side, and swept the ribs away in one smooth motion.
Ada watched his methodical precision, raising an eyebrow in genuine approval. “Let’s go with sliced.”
“Find me irresistible, huh?” Leon smirked, offering a quick wink.
Ada huffed. “Yeah, right up until you opened your mouth.” She focused back on the potatoes, chopping them into neat, bite-sized cubes.
Leon genuinely enjoyed cooking whenever his mind was in a clearer place. It kept his hands busy and grounded him in a sense of normalcy, evoking the kind of quiet life where a man could own a house with a picket fence and raise a family. He could easily afford the house now, and he had friends he considered family, but he no longer chased them as milestones the way his younger self had. Still, tasting that kind of peace was nice.
This specific experience—having the woman he had yearned for over a decade standing right next to him, cooking a meal together—felt beautifully, painfully peaceful. He wanted to wrap his arms around her waist. He wanted to lean in and feel the pulse against her neck. Yet, he held himself back.
It was like witnessing pieces of a shattered life fall perfectly into place; you knew that the moment you tried too hard to grasp it, it would slip through your fingers. He had thought he lost her forever merely just a week ago. Now, she was here. This moment alone was enough. To be alone with her was enough. Pretending to focus entirely on his bell peppers, his eyes kept stealing involuntary glances at her profile.
Ada caught his silence and his drifting eyes, but she decided it was better to fill their stomachs before diving into heavy conversations.
“Have an extra pan?” she asked, grabbing the skillet within reach and placing it on the stove.
Leon retrieved a heavy cast-iron skillet from a lower cabinet and quickly rinsed it. “That hungry, are we?”
“You know patience isn’t one of my strong suits.” Ada smiled, scanning the counter for the olive oil. Leon handed it to her without missing a beat.
She fired up the burner, hovering her hand over the pan to gauge the heat. Leon dried the second skillet and set it on the adjacent burner, turning the dial. Ada poured a splash of oil into her heated pan, finding that Leon had already staged the steaks nearby and was already prepping the garlic.
With one clean, horizontal crush of his knife, Leon smashed the garlic cloves. As he passed them to her, he caught her scanning him from head to toe with an appreciative glance.
The corners of his mouth lifted completely on their own. He stayed quiet, fully aware that she found him entirely irresistible. Ada must have read the smug satisfaction on his face, because she simply shook her head with a private smirk and turned her full attention back to the stove.
The ribeyes hit the hot iron, a loud, violent sizzle echoing through the apartment. The rich, savory aroma immediately made Leon’s mouth water. He quickly finished up the rest of the bell peppers, bringing them and the potatoes over to her station.
Ada moved efficiently, dropping the potatoes into the second pan. She seasoned them with salt and pepper while simultaneously basting the steaks with the crushed garlic.
Leon reached around her to hand over the butter and opened the built-in spice drawer. She studied the jars like she was examining a weapon cache before selecting rosemary for the beef and sage for the potatoes. He stepped back and watched her work, memorizing the slope of her shoulders and the focused lines of her face. She was transforming his sterile kitchen with layers of rich aroma, permanently imprinting her silhouette into the memory of this room.
He grabbed the serving plates from the cupboard. Ada transferred the steaks to let them rest, tossing the potatoes into the steak pan so they could soak up the remaining rendered fat and garlic juices. As she reached for the bell peppers, she found Leon lifting the bowl just out of her reach.
Ada looked up, genuinely puzzled. Leon, maintaining a perfectly serious expression, picked up a single crisp slice of bell pepper and offered it to her. Baffled but intrigued by whatever game he was playing, she tilted her head and bit down on the sweet, fruity pepper.
Leon chuckled. In the blink of an eye, he leaned down and captured the remaining half directly from her lips, pressing his mouth firmly against hers in a brief, searing kiss. While she was caught off guard, he dumped the rest of the peppers into the searing pan. The vibrant, sweet scent exploded into the air, blending beautifully with the rich tones of beef and browned starch.
Leon pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “Patience isn’t one of my strong suits, either.”