Summary: You can tell a lot about a person by how much of the covers they hog.

A/N: A not-so-high-quality drabble, but it fills my quota of AdaLeon for the day. :)


Waking up with a shiver was not a feeling to which he was particularly accustomed. He groggily cracked open an eye; everything was blurry and dark, he could hardly make out shapes. Deciding he'd have better luck with his hands, Leon closed his eyes and groped his hands over the mattress looking for the sheets he had, at one point, slept comfortably underneath.

Soon, an edge of the thick comforter came into his grasp. Mind still foggy, he felt instinctually relieved... until he pulled.

It was like trying to win a tug-of-war contest with el Gigante. He tugged harder still, with no luck. Deprived of his id's desire, his eyes shot open in a fit of primal rage. Once the dust settled, and his mind had awoken just enough to keep him from going Plagas on the comforter, the source of the resistance clicked and he sighed in a huff, rage subsiding to puzzlement.

In the massive knot of blanket, she was almost nowhere to be found, only a few threads of black hair giving her away. Ada slept soundly, noiselessly in her newly made cocoon of comforter. Her breathing slow and steady; it was the most at peace he had ever seen the rival agent.

…But it still didn't change the fact that Leon was cold and in no mood to use his complicated problem solving skills.

Once again, he took an edge of the blanket into his hand and pulled sharply and managed to unravel her cocoon only slightly. A second attempt gave way to more ground won. Feeling confident, he gave a great tug on the inches he had won, setting the stakes back even. But that wasn't enough—he wanted more.

Using his body weight as he rolled over, he tried pulling a little more of the blanket towards his side of the battle ground. He suddenly felt a violent shift in the mattress springs and before he knew it, he felt a barrage of knuckles rapping forcefully against his back. He fought them back with a groan, attempting to fruitlessly swat them away with his left hand. He quickly rolled back over, ready to fend off the attacks with both hands when—


—a cold wind passed over him.

He opened his eyes just in time to see Ada snatch away the loose ends of the comforter, squirreling them away beneath her and nestling herself further into the mess of fabric.

First the G-virus, then the Las Plagas sample… and now this. In everything she did, she always somehow managed to come away with the bigger end of the stick, leaving Leon stranded and empty handed.

He sighed. At least this time there were 'samples' more to be had. He slowly rose from the bed, trudging into the closet where the spare blankets were kept. Upon his return, however, the butterfly's cocoon had become dismantled. With a winning smirk, she held the slack above his empty space. He snorted a laugh, dropping his spare quilt and wearily admitting his defeat as he slipped under. She shifted closer to him and rested her forehead against his chest. He wrapped one arm around her, more content to have her in his arms, her warm body against his, than he could ever be in the embrace of any blanket.

Besides, there was always the next night.