After what happened at Alcatraz, Leon took the opportunity to bring his wife to California for a “vacation” on the state's beaches and perhaps meet up with the few friends he had. It was a time to relax and enjoy the state's sunny weather.

While relaxing on the beach, his wife was constantly trying to generously apply sunscreen and creams to his arms, legs and face, making sure he was adequately protected from the strong California sun.

Leon was lying on the beach towel, relaxing in the gentle lapping of the ocean waves on the sand. His wife stood beside him, applying sunscreen on him with an almost professional determination. He tried to disguise his discomfort with a wry smile. “Honey,” he said, half-jokingly, ”I don't think it's going to be a little sun that takes me to my grave. My skin is used to seeing quite a bit of action and more dangerous situations than a little sun.”

Leon lay peacefully on his beach towel, enjoying the caress of the gentle waves on the sand. His wife lay beside him, applying sunscreen on him with a touch of efficiency. He gazed adoringly at her as she concentrated on her task.

“Gee, honey,” he teased, ”I'm starting to feel like I'm getting a first-class spa treatment instead of just relaxing on the beach.”