Chapter Text
--- Ada ---
He was asleep, and although she was second guessing herself, it was too late to change her mind. What’s done is done, and that out of necessity, not choice. Her client had made it exceptionally clear that he needed the data and cared not of the means to acquire it. That was her problem, because although she could do some pretty nasty things to get what she needed, she didn’t like doing them to Leon. Why that was, she couldn’t say. He also made it clear that her pay depended on how swiftly she was able to obtain it and hand it to the organization, so within a mere few days here she was, in Leon’s flat, lying next to him in bed. Or rather was.
She quietly got up and promptly began by sifting through his drawers in the wardrobe, occasionally looking over at him, assuring herself of the fact that he was indeed unconscious. She worked quickly and quietly, making sure not to wake him from his sleep. But that shouldn’t be much of an issue anyway, considering the way she drank him under the table last night. The poor guy really didn’t have much of a tolerance built up, that much was rather obvious.
She continued sifting around the bedroom before assuring herself that it wasn’t here; at least not in this room. So she continued through the flat, walking on her tip toes, partially to be quiet and partially from habit. It was taking longer than expected, finding a damn usb stick. Of course she checked everything in his office space already, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t keep it there. But to be fair she also didn’t know where he would keep it.
As the search continued, she thought harder about possible locations, where he could’ve hidden it logically. But then she came to an epiphany.
He didn’t know, did he? He was blissfully unaware that he even had something so important in his possession. He didn’t try to hide anything when they got to his apartment, except for the clothing on the couch and whatnot, and he seemed genuinely clueless as to why she was around. He trusted her too easily. It was all adding up, he really just didn’t know. And that meant she had to stop searching under the thought of ‘where would he probably put it’ and more under the thought of ‘what could he possibly have taken with him from Spain without noticing it’.
It took her a bit before the second epiphany finally hit, just as she was looking at the door in fact. Next to the door, on the coat hanger, was Luis’ jacket.
Bingo.
She walked over swiftly, the darkness outside starting to change into a slightly lighter colour, signifying the dwindling evening hours. She dug her hands into the different pockets, checking them first. No success, unsurprisingly. Then she ran her fingers across the inner silk lining, feeling for any kind of hard object underneath.
There. Near the bottom, where the jacket looked as though a seam had torn and been “repaired” she could make out a small rectangular object. Ada quickly flicked out a small blade and cut a small incision neatly at the same seam. She didn’t want to damage the jacket too much, she knew how much it meant to Leon, and for some odd reason she really didn’t want to hurt him. God, if she could just figure out why he was different from everyone else. But now wasn’t the time.
The small usb stick slipped out onto her palm, and she pocketed it swiftly. Having gotten everything she needed, she slipped on her shoes and turned to leave the flat. She quickly glanced over the state of things after her rigorous search, and one more time, again, for an inexplicable reason, she felt a pang of guilt overcome her like a physical pain in her chest. Not particularly desiring to feel more of the same, she walked out of the door and nearly slammed into an old woman on the other side.
“Oh hello there Dearie, you better watch where you’re going” she said in an awfully kind voice.
The woman looked to be in her mid-80s and was holding a laundry basket in her hands. She was wearing a pink cardigan that looked to be self-knit paired with cute bunny slippers that looked fluffier than anything she’d ever seen before. The woman had the kind of demeanor that said ‘I’ll make you a tin of gluten-free vegan cookies’ if you were to ask for them.
She really wasn’t interested in speaking with Leon’s neighbor.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but its 5 am, I was hardly expecting to meet someone else in the hallway at this hour” Ada replied.
“I’ve always had trouble sleeping in, and I like to be productive early. It gives me more time for my hobbies later in the day. Is that so wrong?”
“No ma’am.” She responded tiredly.
She was simultaneously surprised that the woman still actively pursued multiple hobbies and entirely disinterested. Ada really just wanted to go home.
“My name is Dorothy by the way, and stop calling me ma’am, I’m not that old.” the lady said.
She really was quite talkative, much to Ada’s dismay, and she clearly wasn’t finished yet.
“Did you just come from Leon’s flat? He’s such a handsome young man. And you’re quite pretty too you know, maybe you both should get to know each other more. Or are you already dating? Oh, that would be so wonderful!”
Oh, good grief. Leon was best friends with an 80-year-old woman named Dorothy. And of course that was her problem now.
“No ma’am- um sorry, Leon and I are just… old friends, that’s all.” She didn’t really know what to say.
“Oh that’s a shame. But not really surprising, he’s been all over this Ada-girl he keeps telling me about. Between you and me, I think you’re a much better fit for him though.” She said with a wink before continuing “what’s your name anyway?”
Oh God, he talks to her about me. Of course he does. Leon, for the love of everything holy, get some friends. Download Tinder, I don’t know, but please. This is sad. And now she had to come up with a name because there was no way she was going to open pandora’s box and admit that she was the Ada person this woman didn’t like. And why didn’t she think they would be good together? That was rude to say, even if she didn’t think that Ada was, well, Ada. Whatever.
“I’m Vivienne.”
“Oh Vivienne, isn’t that a pretty name. You know if you’d like I can put in a good word for you with-”
“Dorothy I’m sure you’re a lovely person and a delight to talk to, but I’m really in quite a rush and must be going. You understand.” Ada bit in.
“Oh sorry, yes of course. Well you have a good day Vivienne” she replied without even a hint of annoyance. This woman seemed to simply love life and everyone in it.
“Thanks, you too ma’am” She replied with a meek smile and promptly left the complex.
Shit, she wasn’t supposed to call her ma’am.
***
When she finally arrived home from the drive, she began to realize how unbelievably tired she actually was. The sleepless night, and the mostly sleepless night before that one, was starting to hit her hard, like slamming with her entire body into a brick wall. Today was not the day to hand in the USB stick to her client, it would have to wait a bit longer. Besides, one day wouldn’t make much of a difference in her pay, at least not a noticeable one. He was a prick, but not that much of a prick.
She placed the stick onto the center of her office desk so that she couldn’t possibly overlook it and forget it the next day, and before moving on to her night routine she continued to stare at it for a bit longer. She didn’t really know what compelled her to do so, but something about the stick begged her to stay for just a moment or two longer.
It was such a mundane object, something so unbelievably simple, and yet it was worth millions. More than millions, it was worth the destruction of a relationship. Or was it? And since when was a relationship worth more than ‘millions’ in her eyes?
Was it even a relationship? She was acting like she was hurting somebody she cared about, but she didn’t really care that much about Leon. If anything, he was a nuisance, a pebble in her shoe. Half of her time in Spain was spent making sure he didn’t die, and the occasional moment where he made sure she didn’t die. It was mutual survival, and nothing more.
But that fight with him in the Armory, when he grappled that gun from her hand and held her close. It’s like the knife to her throat didn’t exist, she was just so focused on his eyes, the fact that he was on top of her. He was so close she could feel his quickening heartbeat through his chest and shirt. His shirt was drenched in sweat too, which she partially transferred onto her dress afterwards. For some reason she remembered that rather well, and for an even weirder reason that didn’t seem to bother her. That day, her brain melted in a way it never did in close combat. She never should have lost that fight, and yet she did. It didn’t make sense.
And if she cared for him, hypothetically (even though she was still sure she didn’t), that still didn’t matter, because ultimately her job called for hurting those close to you, regardless the cost, should the job call for it. No matter her conclusion on this, it wouldn’t make a difference in the end, what had to be done had to be done.
So why couldn’t she peal her eyes away from that damned USB stick? Why was this all so difficult?
Despite vowing to deliver it to her client the next day, she ended up waiting another day. And then another day, and the another, and before long she stopped using her desk entirely to avoid seeing it at all. She didn’t need her desk anyway, it was fine. And what’s one day more on the pile anyway? She’d still get enough money from the job, even if it was a few days late.