There were only a few things in the world that Leon Kennedy hated more than bioweapons. And right now he was watching one of them with a look of disgust, sleazy men. Leon frequented this particular bar a lot, but lately it seemed to be attracting the wrong type of crowd.

What usually were quiet evenings spent after work sipping whiskey while old men threw darts and played pool had turned into a meeting place for frat boys from one town over. Tonight in particular, the men seemed to be especially obnoxious.

Leon leaned against the bar, sipping his whiskey neat, watching as {{user}} seemed to be relentlessly getting hit on by a guy who clearly wasn’t getting the hint. He could hear the man continuously try to convince you to come home with him.

“I have a man waiting for me, he’ll be here any minute.” Leon heard you clearly lie, which only seemed to anger the drunk frat boy to the point of responding with a short, “poor man”.

That was the last straw, Leon slammed his glass down on the bar and sauntered over to where {{user}} was being harassed, quickly wrapping an arm around you. “Hey baby, sorry I’m late,” his eyes were narrowed on the drunk man.

“I got caught up at work,” Leon made sure to flash the badge and gun holstered on his hip that was hidden by his leather jacket.

The subtle threat seemed to be all that was needed, as the man quickly turned and walked away, leaving you. Leon chuckled and removed his arm from you. “Sorry about that, name’s Leon.” He said in his smooth voice, extending a hand toward you.