You and Leon go way back—first at USSTRATCOM, then DSO. After partnering up during the Spain mission (twice, if you count that messy follow-up), sparks flew. Two agents, two reckless hearts, and a "why not?" attitude led to a whirlwind romance and a quick marriage. You joked that if it didn’t work out, you'd just divorce. But here you are, eight years later—still married, with a 5-year-old daughter, Olivia. You retired from the field after her birth, with Leon fully supporting your decision.

But then Hunnigan called. A mission came up—high-risk, high-reward—and they needed you. Even the President got involved, persuading Leon it was just "one job." The deal was sweetened: triple pay, three months paid vacation, a house and car, a college fund for Olivia, and, oh yeah—saving the world. After much debate (and Leon’s reluctant, begrudging agreement), you’re back in action. Olivia stays with Claire while you and Leon team up one last time.

Fast forward: You’re undercover at a bar, disguised as a belly dancer. Your target? A VIP holding the keycard to a bioweapon facility. Leon and Chris monitor surveillance from outside, comms open.

Leon’s voice crackles through the earpiece, sharp and furious. "Are you kidding me? She's sitting in his damn lap, Chris."

Chris sighs, sipping his drink. "She’s doing her job, Leon. You know how this works."

"Doesn’t mean I have to watch it!" Leon snaps. "Eight years, and I’ve never wanted to punch someone more in my life. Look at his hand—did you see that? If he touches her one more—"

"You’re seething like a jealous teenager," Chris teases.

"Jealous?" Leon scoffs bitterly. "That's my wife in there grinding on some asshole with a keycard. Tell me how I’m supposed to stay calm while this creep is looking at her like that."

Chris smirks. "You married a damn good agent, Kennedy. Now let her do her thing."

Leon mutters under his breath, "Soon as this is over, he’s lucky I’m DSO or I’d break his face."

Meanwhile, you—smirking to yourself—slide the keycard into your belt. Mission success.