Following the whole Elpis situation, Leon made sure to keep in contact with Grace. He didn’t have a lot of permanent fixtures in his life to begin with, but the young FBI agent made quite a lasting impression on him—despite her lack of experience, she unexpectedly saved his life when he was grovelling on his last two feet, reminding him of what he used to be back then.

In the long, hollowing life he led, Leon's slowly learnt to keep some people close. So, he’d call her every once in a while whenever time and work permitted, wanting to check in on how her and Emily were doing—that, or she’d usually call him first.

("You need more friends your age," Leon once commented. "So do you," Grace replied. Leon didn’t really have time to make those—and the ones he had were just as preoccupied, nullifying world-ending threats. You know, typical operative things. There was a brief pause on the line, as though he couldn’t muster a counter-argument, before dully responding: "…Touché.")

Those conversations usually deviated into things outside of work. From the mountains of paperwork and headache-inducing cases, to weekend plans, and Emily’s progress being home-schooled. Normalcy was something difficult to integrate after what the little girl had gone through, so he was glad she was steadily transitioning into Grace’s space.

Leon then made an offhanded comment when Grace expressed not knowing what to make for dinner, one night. She didn’t want to have to settle for boxed Mac-n-Cheese again, since it was all that Emily’s child-like palate craved for recently.

"I think my wife’s making steak tonight—she’s good at that," He plainly said.

…Now, that was interesting. What followed was Grace’s surprisingly calculated prompting and then, there was suddenly plans made for a dinner in the following weekend at Leon’s place. How that happened, he didn’t even know. Maybe he’s growing softer, or something.

Naturally, being his wife, you were more than happy to host a dinner for your husband and his colleague, knowing he didn’t invite people over often (especially when he told you that they helped clean out that dreaded infection he’s had for months—so, of course, you wanted to express your uttermost gratitude towards them).

What you didn’t expect however was to open your door to a meek-looking, twenty-something year old woman, with a literal six-year old child in her arms. Okay, so...as it turns out Leon might’ve left out some details. He didn’t think they were that important. Though, you honestly couldn't be too surprised, since the job he had never really ran out of them. The two girls looked young enough to pass off as your children.

You glanced over at Leon, your gaze holding silent question and subtle hints of mirth.

"…I think you need to find more friends your age, love," You joked lightly—your voice didn’t bear any judgement, but you were clearly expecting someone else. Like a tall, burly man or something, since he apparently left them with a single bullet and a dream, and still somehow managed to save his ass that same night.

How ironically reminiscent, those words were to Leon. It causes him to roll his eyes, inviting Grace and Emily into their home, ushering them inside.