Chapter Text
Claire Redfield rushed into the building only a few minutes behind schedule.
She hated being late.
She had never been the kind of person to stumble into the office out of breath while pretending everything was under control. If her morning routine was ever delayed, there was usually a good reason for it. Today, that reason had been the line at the café around the corner.
Actually, two lines. One to place an order. Another to pick it up.
“Seriously?” she had muttered under her breath a few minutes earlier, watching the barista wage war against the espresso machine.
Now, though, it hardly mattered.
In one hand, she carefully carried a cardboard drink carrier with two cups of coffee. In the other, she clutched a thick stack of documents that had to reach three different departments before noon. Several colorful sticky notes peeked out between the pages like bookmarks tucked into a favorite novel.
She had barely made it through the security gates when she heard a familiar voice.
“Claire!”
She turned her head.
“Good morning, Emily!”
The receptionist smiled broadly.
“Saving someone’s life with coffee again?”
Claire lifted the cups slightly.
“One life. The other one’s mine.”
Emily laughed softly.
“I’m guessing the second one is for Mr. Kennedy?”
Claire shrugged.
“I guess I’ve gotten used to buying two.”
“One day he’ll give you a medal for that.”
“Or a heart attack if he ever quits caffeine.”
She waved goodbye and continued on. As she passed one desk after another, she exchanged brief greetings with people along the way.
“Hey, Claire!”
“Hi!”
“How did Saturday’s charity event go?”
“Great! I’ll tell you later!”
“Have a good day!”
“You too!”
She was one of those people who knew almost everyone. Not because she had to. She was simply interested in people. She remembered her coworkers’ children’s names, the interns’ favorite coffees, even who had just come back from vacation. Not everyone returned that same level of attention.
Claire had never minded.
She stopped in front of the elevators and adjusted the documents that were beginning to slide dangerously down her forearm. She glanced at the electronic display.
Twelfth floor. Tenth. Eighth.
“Come on…”
The aroma of the coffee filled the air. One cup was black. The other had just a splash of milk.
For the first two weeks, Leon hadn’t even noticed that he received the exact same coffee every day. During the third week, he thanked her. After a month, he stopped asking how much he owed her. After two months, he stopped being surprised. After three, he was still convinced Claire only did it because he looked like the sort of person who forgot about life’s most basic necessities.
It wasn’t an entirely inaccurate theory.
Leon really could spend half a day surviving on nothing but coffee and a sense of duty. Claire sighed in amusement at the thought alone.
The elevator chimed. The display showed the ground floor. The metal doors began to slide open.
Claire stepped forward. The elevator was packed. Someone was already pressing the button to close the doors while someone else was trying to squeeze their way out.
“Excuse me! Sorry!” a flustered voice called out.
A man in a navy-blue shirt practically launched himself out of the elevator. He was moving far too fast.
Claire barely had time to register his movement before she felt his shoulder slam into her.
“Oh…”
The entire weight of the documents shifted sideways. The coffee cups swayed dangerously. Her foot caught on the elevator’s metal threshold. For a split second, the world slowed. Papers slipped from her grasp. The hot coffee tilted inside the cardboard cups.
Claire instinctively tried to regain her balance.
But it was already too late.
Her body pitched forward. She didn’t even have time to catch her breath. Her foot slipped off the metal threshold, and her entire body lurched ahead. For one fleeting instant she still tried to save the situation. The documents slid sideways, the coffee cups tipped dangerously, and then…
Splash.
Hot coffee spilled from both cups almost simultaneously. One hit the floor with a dull thud. The other bounced across the polished surface and rolled several yards away, leaving a brown trail behind it.
Claire landed on one knee and one hand. Sheets of paper scattered around her like confetti.
The white pages danced through the air before drifting across the lobby floor. Some came to rest near the elevator. Others sailed farther away. One stuck to the coffee-soaked tiles. For a brief moment, silence settled over the room.
The kind of silence that only appeared when a dozen people were all trying to process what they had just witnessed.
Claire closed her eyes.
“…Fantastic.”
It didn’t hurt.
At least, not much.
Her knee would definitely bruise, her palm stung from the scrape, but the biggest problem was the coffee.
She looked down.
Her light-colored blouse had practically stopped being light-colored. Brown stains spread from her shoulder all the way to her waist. A few drops trickled down her sleeve while the rest slowly soaked into the fabric.
She let out a heavy sigh.
“Oh, perfect…”
The elevator doors still hadn’t closed. One of the passengers quietly mumbled,
“Oh no…”
“Are you okay?”
Before anyone else could even take a step, Leon walked out of the elevator.
Or rather, he nearly ran out.
Only then did he notice the scattered documents and Claire sitting on the floor.
His heart lurched.
“Claire!”
He crouched beside her almost instantly.
“Hey.”
He raised a hand as though he wanted to help, but hesitated for a second.
“Are you okay?”
Claire exhaled through her nose.
“Fantastic. Perfect. Exactly how I planned to start my Monday.”
Leon didn’t even smile. He studied her carefully.
“Did you hit your head?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Are you dizzy?”
“No.”
“Does anything hurt?”
Claire looked at him.
“My dignity.”
Leon blinked.
“Besides that.”
Only then did the faintest trace of relief appear on his face.
That sounded like Claire.
If something had really been seriously wrong, she wouldn’t have been joking.
“Your knee?”
“I think so.”
“Your wrist?”
She flexed her hand.
“Works.”
“Your back?”
“Leon…”
She looked at him with a mixture of amusement and irritation.
“I’m fine.”
For another moment, he simply watched her.
As though trying to find even the smallest sign that she was only saying it to reassure him.
He found none.
Only then did he finally breathe again.
“Good.”
Claire placed her hands against the floor.
“I’ll try to get up.”
She had barely started to rise when a sharp pull shot through her knee.
She winced.
Leon noticed immediately.
“Wait.”
He held out his hand.
“May I?”
Claire looked at it.
It was large, steady, and perfectly still.
There wasn’t the slightest hint of impatience.
No pressure.
It simply waited.
Claire took it.
Leon carefully helped her to her feet. He didn’t pull too hard. He let her regain her balance at her own pace.
Even after she was standing, he still hadn’t let go of her hand.
“Dizzy?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Leon.”
“Yes?”
“Breathe.”
He blinked.
“I am breathing.”
“You don’t look like it.”
He finally released her hand only after he was certain she was standing steadily.
Then he looked at her blouse.
It was completely soaked with coffee.
His brow furrowed slightly.
“That coffee was hot.”
Claire glanced down at herself.
“It was.”
“Did you burn yourself?”
“I don’t think so. I’m wetter than I am burned.”
“Good.”
“Mhm.”
A brief silence settled between them.
Leon looked around the lobby.
The documents.
They were literally everywhere.
Without a word, he crouched down.
Claire was already about to do the same.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Leave it.”
“Leon…”
“I’ll pick them up.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’ve already started.”
And he had.
He gathered the papers with the meticulous precision that was so unmistakably his. He stacked them into a neat pile. Checked the page numbers. Turned over the ones that had stuck to the floor. Even the coffee-soaked document he carefully separated from the rest so nothing else would be ruined.
Claire watched him for a moment.
“You know…”
He didn’t look up.
“Hmm?”
“That coffee was for you.”
He stopped.
His eyes shifted to the empty cardboard carrier.
To the spilled coffee.
To the cup lying several yards away.
“Oh.”
Claire sighed.
“So officially, you’re allowed to feel guilty now.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t bump into you.”
“But it was your coffee.”
For a moment, Leon genuinely looked as though he were trying to work through that logic.
“I can buy you another.”
Claire snorted with laughter.
“Leon…”
“Yes?”
“I was joking.”
“I know.”
“You really didn’t look like you knew.”
“I know.”
She shook her head.
“You’re honestly terrible at picking up on things like that.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Probably more than once.”
A moment later, Leon picked up the last sheet.
He straightened the stack and handed it back to Claire.
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
Their fingers brushed for just a second.
Claire tucked the documents under her arm and looked down at her clothes once more.
“I look like I lost a fight with an espresso machine.”
“A little.”
“Thanks for the honesty.”
“I’m not very good at lying.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She turned toward the elevators.
And that was when she froze.
At the opposite end of the lobby stood Chris.
His arms were crossed over his chest.
As always, his suit jacket fit him perfectly, and the badge identifying him as the head of the entire branch caught the overhead lights.
He was looking straight at Claire. At her soaked blouse. At the spilled coffee. At the documents. At the wet floor. At Leon standing beside her.
He didn’t say a word. He simply watched.
Claire knew that look far too well. He wasn’t angry. Not yet.
It was that particular expression only an older brother could wear, one that managed to convey concern, assess the situation, and silently calculate exactly how much fixing this mess was going to cost, all at the same time.
Chris started walking toward them. Calmly. Slowly. Inexorably.
Claire closed her eyes for a brief moment. Of course. Because if the day was going to begin with a disaster, why not make sure there was an audience… and her own brother, who also happened to be her boss?
Yes.
This Monday was shaping up to be absolutely wonderful.