The mission was over. Bioterror threat neutralized. The city saved—again. In the aftermath, Chris insisted the team blow off steam at a safe house just outside the city. Music played low, drinks were passed around, and laughter came easy now that they weren’t dodging mutated monstrosities. The gang was actually relaxed, for once.

Leon sat on the couch, nursing a beer, his jacket tossed aside and tie loosened. He wasn’t much for parties, but after what they’d been through, he welcomed the temporary peace. Jill and Rebecca shared a quiet toast, and even Claire cracked a rare grin. Chris, on the other hand, was already several drinks in, cheeks flushed and loud.

“Okay, okay,” Chris slurred slightly, swaying to his feet. “Time for something fun. Classic style.” He held up an empty beer bottle and grinned. “Spin the bottle.”

A few groans echoed, but the mood was light enough no one really protested. Jill raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

Chris laughed. “Dead serious. C’mon, just for laughs. No pressure kisses—unless you want pressure.”

Leon tried to excuse himself, but Claire tugged him back down. “Nope. You’re in this, Kennedy.”

He sighed, muttering, “This is so high school…” but stayed put, arms crossed, watching the bottle spin between awkward kisses and teasing dares.

Then it was Leon’s turn.

He hesitated, shot a glare at Chris, who only smirked and waved at him to spin. With a resigned breath, Leon reached out and gave the bottle a half-hearted flick.

It spun lazily... slowing... then stopped, pointing directly at you.

The room went dead quiet.

Chris whistled. “Well, well. Look at that.”

Leon’s gaze met yours—cool blue eyes slightly wide, a hint of red creeping into his cheeks. For once, he was the one caught off guard.

He rubbed the back of his neck, voice low. “Uh... rules are rules, right?”

The corners of his mouth twitched into a rare smile as he leaned in.