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After all this time, Ashley shouldn’t have recognized Ada Wong. She had seen her for only a fraught few minutes out of the most fraught few hours of her life, exchanged a handful of words. But the few hours she had spent running from Los Illuminados were gouged into her brain like a linocut. Two years on, Ashley remembered them better than her father’s second inauguration, better than what she had eaten for breakfast the day before. So she recognized the woman tucked into a low booth in the corner of this wine bar immediately. Saw it in the tilt of her shoulder and wrist, the way her hair—a little shorter now—tucked smooth behind one ear.
After she got back, Ashley had looked up everything she could about what happened. About B.O.W.s, about Saddler, Luis, Krauser. Leon S. Kennedy, of course. Ada Wong. Of course. Her dad had felt guilty enough about the whole thing to give Ashley access to stuff she shouldn’t have been able to read. Ada must be here on a job. Maybe the job was Ashley. Maybe it was the lab Ashley had gone to Stanford for.
Ashley was not inadequate. In the two years since she had escaped that island, Leon never answered her emails and she hardly thought about it anymore. She knew this bar; it was the one she went to when she didn’t want to be surrounded by other college students. She even had a concealed carry permit. Ashley flexed her shoulder blades like throwing off a hand and ordered a whole bottle of pinot noir and two glasses. Then she slid into the booth across from Ada.
There was no flicker of surprise on Ada’s face. She was facing the door, sure. She could’ve seen Ashley come in, tracked her approach. Whatever. “Haven’t seen you in a while, Ada,” Ashley said, hoping for a flinch anyway, a pause, something.
Ada hummed. She was overdressed for this place in a silky red blouse with billowing sleeves. Not California at all. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” she said. Her voice was the same bored monotone Ashley remembered from Leon’s communicator.
“Wrong name?” Ashley guessed. The corner of Ada’s mouth tipped up, and she stayed put while Ashley poured herself a glass. “Are you meeting someone here?”
“You, apparently,” said Ada.
Ashley stiffened.
“Down, girl,” Ada said. “It wasn’t on purpose. I do, occasionally, want a drink.”
Stupid. She had walked over here thinking Ada might be after her, and that was stupid enough; but worse was being the first to flinch. “Big coincidence,” she muttered, and nudged the bottle toward Ada with her fingertips. “Help yourself.”
“It’s a small world.” Ada raised one eyebrow. “And you’re all grown up, huh? Studying genetics. Interning at the U.N. Ordering your own drinks.”
“Taking self-defense lessons.”
“Good for you.” Ada polished off her glass and poured herself another.
The one time Ashley had gotten a real good look at her on the island Ada was a mess. Sleeves pushed past her elbows and red marks on her wrists, dress stained with god knew what, smelling like gore and smoke. Not unlike Leon. In Ashley’s head they stood perfect and untouchable as marble statues; then Ashley focused and oh—a person. Today Ada didn’t look like she’d been killing monsters, but she was sweating at her temples and her nails were unmanicured, peeling. She slouched at the table.
“Is that really all this is? A coincidence?” Ashley squeezed her hands together under the table until her knuckles ached.
“Do you want to be kidnapped again? I can arrange something, but it would be messy on short notice. No European vacation.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t act like it’s such a stupid question.”
“Where did this come from?” Ada flicked her hair from her eyes. “Leon, I get. But I don’t remember doing anything to hurt Miss Ashley Graham. Actually, I remember saving both your asses.”
“Out of the goodness of your heart.”
Ada shrugged.
“You were working for somebody.” Leon hadn’t told her about the amber. He hadn’t told Ashley directly about much of anything. But she had poked around in the lab, same as he did. Listened to his communicator. Once she had made it home, she read his report about Raccoon City. The woman there who had led him into the NEST and let herself fall to her death.
“So was Leon,” Ada pointed out. Ashley’s jaw clenched. “Most of us do have to work for our money.”
She’s trying to make you angry, Ashley told herself. She’s needling you. Well, it was working. Her pulse rushed in her wrists. And why was Ashley making it so easy for her? Charging over here with confidence that folded like cardboard.
Ada hadn’t done anything to Ashley, really. She'd only been there. Seen Ashley at her worst. Her weakest.
Ashley had been so jealous.
The one time on the island they had actually talked, face-to-face, Ashley had been watching over that cliffside while Leon fought the monster Saddler had become. Knuckles clenched on the railing, shivering with adrenaline and sea air. All day she’d been trying to help Leon where she could. Be a part of his team. But against Saddler there was nothing she could do except stay out of the way. Not get herself killed. Then came Ada, and Ashley had snapped at her to help him and she—did. Just like that. Swung down on a hanging shipping crate and a few minutes later Saddler was engulfed in flames and oozing to his death.
We make a good team, right? Ashley had needed Leon to say yes. For him to mean it, clasp her shoulder, so she knew he wasn’t humoring the scared sheltered little girl.
In the end, it was Ada who they really needed. Who helped Leon take down Saddler and gave them a way off the island. Ashley was only the asset.
She wasn’t going to be that way again. She was making sure of that. But she would probably never get the chance to prove herself to him, either.
“How are you like this?” It came out like an accusation. Ashley pushed her tongue into her bottom lip, exhaled. “I mean—how do you learn to be like that?”
“Are you asking for tips?”
This was only embarrassing if Ashley let it embarrass her. “Yeah.”
Ada blinked slowly like a cat watching across the room. She ran her finger along the rim of her wineglass. No gloves today. When Ashley had learned to shoot she grew callouses on her palms, her trigger finger; were Ada's hands the same? “Let’s go on a walk,” Ada said.
“What?”
Swiping the wine bottle from the table, Ada stood. Ashley scrambled to her feet. “Hey—wait—”
They passed through the door and the sunny tables along the sidewalk. From the corner of her eye Ashley saw one of the agents on her regular protection detail get up from her chair. The other agent was probably circling the block. “Did you see someone?” Ashley hissed.
“Can't a girl just want some fresh air?” The bottle swung casually between them, Ada’s fingers wrapped around the neck. Any minute she could smash it into someone’s head without changing her grip. She brought it to her mouth instead, took a swig, and then tilted the bottle toward Ashley with her eyebrow raised.
Ashley shook her head. Her heart was still pounding, but there was no threat, only Ashley being pulled along like always. She pushed her hair behind her ears. Ada's heels clicked on the sidewalk.
“Stanford’s a bit…soulless, isn’t it,” Ada mused, looking up at the neat brick buildings, the street lined with clean modern cars.
“I mean,” Ashley said, “there’s plenty to do. It’s a college town.”
“Exactly.” Ada wrinkled her nose. “Where did you grow up again? Connecticut?”
“New Hampshire.”
Ada waved her hand. “You haven't lived in a real city, then.”
“D.C.’s real,” said Ashley.
Ada laughed. “Oh, sure. You go to San Francisco at least, right?”
“Of course,” Ashley said. She hadn’t actually been down there in a month, but she had been, a handful of times, since she was accepted to Stanford. Mostly shopping in Presidio Heights with friends from undergrad who stopped by to visit, a little bit of beach time. She had a feeling if she said that Ada would just laugh at her. Maybe she would laugh at everything Ashley said this whole afternoon. “If you don’t like Stanford, why are you here?”
“I needed to talk to someone,” Ada said. She looked at Ashley sidelong. “My work doesn’t always involve breaking and entering.”
Grab at the detail, or let it go? Did she really want to know?
Ashley swiped the wine bottle from Ada’s hand and took a drink herself. She wasn’t supposed to do that. Even if no paparazzi nabbed pictures of this afternoon, her father would be hearing about it. But that mattered less somehow than what Ada thought of her, at the moment.
They came to a crosswalk. Without thinking about it Ashley turned right, the way back to the house her dad had bought for while she was at school. Ada swung smoothly around with her.
“You remind me of him,” Ada said.
There was only one him they could be talking about. Ashley blinked. “Is that a compliment?”
“We met in Raccoon City, you know,” Ada said, and Ashley nodded. “I couldn’t get rid of him. Saved his ass once and all he wanted to do was follow me around, so I thought, why not make the most of it? He was harder to kill than the rest of his colleagues, apparently. And then he took a bullet for me.” She sighed a little.
Ashley sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, dug teeth into it. She’d known this, sort of. Had read Leon’s dispassionate recounting to an FBI interviewer trying to reconstruct the Raccoon City incident. But listening to Ada list it off made her cheeks burn. “That’s not anything like me."
“Hmm, maybe not the taking a bullet part,” Ada said dryly. “But you both still needed someone to follow. Once your safe little bubble pops, you both need someone telling you what to do, giving you something to believe.”
She told me she was an FBI agent, Leon had said. And you believed her? the interviewer had asked.
We’ll get you home safe, Leon had told her, we’ll take care of the plaga, and she had never asked him how. Just kept moving.
“Leon wasn’t like that,” Ashley said. “Not with me.”
“Well, it was his second go with B.O.W.s, wasn’t it?” Ada shrugged. “Besides, he had you around to be strong for. He’s a good boy like that.” She smiled, not nicely. Ashley pictured Ada's fist clenched in pale hair and had to look away. “You’d have been the same way if you knew how to use a gun, I bet. You both want someone to be good for.”
Ashley’s whole body flushed. Ada was just talking like that, in public even. Surreal in the bright California sunlight, walking down the street past houses she had memorized. They were only a block from her house. Ashley took another swig straight from the wine bottle and shoved her free hand into her pocket. “That’s—you don’t know me.”
“Don’t I?”
“No,” Ashley huffed. “Are you sure you weren’t siding with those megalomaniacs on the island? You talk like them.”
Ada snickered and took the wine bottle back. “Anyway,” she said, “I can’t give you advice because that’s not how I operate. Ask him, maybe.”
“Ask him for me, next time you see him,” Ashley said, sour.
“I haven’t talked to Leon since the island.”
“Oh." On the island Leon hadn’t answered any of her questions about Ada—well, any of her questions, period. Had to rely on her imagination to fill in some blanks. Apparently she’d filled them in wrong. “Neither have I.”
Ada made a noise that could’ve been sympathetic, if Ashley ignored the face she wasn’t making and everything else about the way she’d acted so far.
“Don’t you want to be good, though? Otherwise why help us at all?” Ashley asked, like poking at a loose tooth.
“Leon took a bullet for me. I’m not putting that to waste.”
Ashley stared at her, trying to see the lie, and saw only Ada's smooth face.
They made one last turn and suddenly they were in front of Ashley’s house, the tiny yard with its neat flowerbeds and brick walkway. Ashley stopped, dug her heels into the sidewalk. She had steered them here, hadn’t she? “You knew he wouldn’t leave the island without me,” Ashley said. “You didn’t care about me at all.”
Ada dipped her head. "It's nothing personal."
She was home. This was where Ada walked away, unsurprised, unimpressed, knowing exactly where Ashley slept every night, mission complete.
Ashley leaned up on her toes and kissed her.
Until the moment she did it she wouldn’t have said she was attracted to Ada. Knew she was beautiful, sure; Ashley had eyes. But she wouldn’t have thought of Ada with her. Of participating.
Ada stood frozen, her only movement a sharp inhale against Ashley’s mouth. Face burning, Ashley settled back down. But she didn’t look away. Ada’s eyebrows were raised. It felt like the first time this whole conversation where Ashley was winning. Maybe that was a lie, though; maybe Ada wanted Ashley to watch her school her face back to normal, run her tongue along her lower lip.
“Not the response I expected,” Ada said. Her voice wavered, just a little.
“Me neither,” Ashley said, and took a half step back. Sometimes on the island she’d been so scared that it settled into a sort of calm. If she stopped moving, her focus would shatter all over again. “Do you want to come in?”
Ada tilted her head. “Why not,” she said, and let Ashley lead her inside.