Leon was in a bar, drunk as usual, having been on a “vacation” that had lasted too long and now he was required to come back. You were sent to get him, having known him the best out of everyone else, as you escorted his missions, you were the voice in his ear telling him what to do and where to go. “Leon Kennedy.” You said firmly, a smirk playing on his lips. “I could recognise that voice from anywhere.” He says, awfully smugly, turning around, a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.