Author's Note: My third attempt at smut and my first time writing Leon/Claire. I hope I did good with these two. :) Done for the "2-year anniversary contest" at LJ's l_c_chemistry.
I own neither the movie nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

"You've got to be kidding me." Claire stares resigned at the elevator and the hand-painted 'out-of-order' sign hanging at the wrought-iron fence. That's just what she needs. As if her day hasn't been shitty enough already. Hell, her whole week.

Sighing, she pulls away from the greatest invention for tired bodies and starts the long walk up three floors by feet, her muscles arching with every step. At least at the end these seemingly endless stairs there will be a hot shower, her mind rejoices.

"Woohoo," Claire mutters under her breath and prays her muscles won't give out before she reaches the first floor. With her recent luck - or better bad luck - she is prepared to expect everything.

The last few days have been tough - a trip to hell. With Leon's departure and the destruction of the research facility only a week earlier, she had thought it was over but she had been wrong.

For three days, for three glorious days she was far away from everything dead, not-dead and in-between, when suddenly the military had dropped in and whisked her away. That had been the morning two days ago.

Ever since Claire has been running on adrenaline and chocolate bars. Too much of both and now she wants nothing more than to fall asleep. Preferable right now but first she has to get rid of that mud and dirt that's sticking to her skin, hair and clothes.

Her foot slips on the last step and she gropes blindly for the wall. "Fuck." Getting back her balance, Claire takes a deep breath and grits her teeth at the pungent smell rising from her person.

Looking back, she would have rather been a consultant again than help the completely incompetent military fighting a - as they call it - 'mini-outbreak' a few miles from the first. Without Leon it had been closer to a disaster than not, and even though Claire knows she is better than most men when it comes to killing zombies, fighting alone is not her greatest strength. The by no means small collection of bruises and cuts prove that.

Digging in her bag for her keys, Claire ignores the wounds and dirt decorating her arm. The shower cannot come early enough. Finally she finds them and opens her door, letting her bag slide to the ground and kicking off her shoes at the same time but as she is about to step over the threshold, all thoughts about a shower are forgotten.

She is not alone.

Her reaction is instinctively. Claire drops into a crouch and her right hand pulls the previously discarded bag closer, reaching for the knife strapped to the side while her senses reach out into the dark, trying to locate the intruder in the shadows but except for the ticking of the clock in her kitchen and the low humming of the heater, there is nothing Claire can make out. No movement, no other sounds.

Her fingers close around the hilt of the knife and in one fluent move she pulls it from the shaft, rises to her feet, presses her back to the wall and, after taking a moment to center herself, steps from the circle of light into the dark.

It swallows her whole.

The further Claire moves away from the open door and light, the stronger the darkness presses down on her and it sends shivers down her spine, makes her fingertips tingle unpleasantly. Her fingers flex and grasp the knife tighter but the feeling remains.

She hates that, it really pisses her off, and whoever is in her flat will pay for it. Smiling grimly at that thought Claire inches forward, along the wall and lets her instinct lead her. So far it has never let her down and it doesn't this time either as she feels her inner sense urging her in the direction of her kitchen. It's not the violent sensation of dread whenever a zombie is near but that doesn't make the situation any easier to deal with. Humans can be as deadly.

The sound of low scratching echoes through the air and she freezes, every muscle in her body going taut, her heart racing and blood rushing in her ears. Giving away your position when before you were silent as death? Claire bites back a curse. She recognizes the move for what it is since she used this tactic herself many times to lure out zombies. Let your prey believe you've been clumsy, let them believe they have the upper hand, and then attack.

Carefully, step after step, Claire backs away from the kitchen, back to the open doorway but she hasn't even made two steps before a pair of hands shoot out of the darkness, grasp the front of her shirt and twist her away from the wall, throwing her into the opposite one.

A cry is torn from her lips as her body hits the wall, hard and painful, and the breath is knocked out of her. It hurts like a bitch.

A heavy weight, male and warm, crushes her against the wall, immobilizing her. Her hands are kept in a tight but not painful grip, pressed up right next to her face and with a surprisingly gentle twist of her wrist, the attacker disarms her. The knife clatters to the ground, lost somewhere in the dark.

She gasps for air, takes an unsteady breath and nearly chokes. She's drowning in a well-known scent, an earthy spice, powerful and all male, and there is only one person Claire knows who smells like that.

"Leon," she gasps, shocked. "What-wha-"

Before she can even finish phrasing her question, he leans down, invades her personal space, presses his cheek against hers, and his hot breath hits her ear as his lips move against it.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" he hisses and Claire flinches at the tone in his voice, harsh and violent. Never before was it directed at her and she has no idea what he means. She struggles, looks away, tries to escape him but no luck.

"Oh, no, you don't. Look at me. Look at me." Leon draws back and lets go of her right wrist, places his hand under her chin and turns her face back. The light from the corridor stings in her eyes as she raises her head and now he can see every emotion, everything she feels, while she can only make out the outline of his body.

He's trembling, Claire realizes, the hand that's holding her chin is slightly trembling but it's not in fear. Leon is furious as hell.

"How could you have been so stupid?" Searing anger flares up and she jerks her chin free, glares at the shadow that is his face. "I was trying to save lives!"

He gives a harsh laugh. "And nearly got killed!" One of his hands goes to her neck, anchors her to him, while the other holds her waist in a strong grip.

"I saw the surveillance feed, Claire, I saw the fucking video," he half-snarls and she is stunned, knows she's missing something important here. "What are you talking about, Leon?"

The grips on her neck and waist tighten. "If you hadn't turned around in that moment, the tyrant would have gotten to you. God, Claire, you could have-" His voice breaks and suddenly Claire sees what this whole thing is all about, her anger leaving her in a rush.

She doesn't think, simply acts and pulls Leon down to her, molds her body into his, her head tugged under his chin. He sucks in a surprised breath and freezes for a second but doesn't stop her. "I'm okay, Leon, I'm okay." Her words whisper across his skin and he shudders, the tension leaving his body.

The fingers at her waist start rubbing back and forth, back and forth, and with every move her shirt rides up further, until his warm hand meets skin.

Claire shivers, her eyes slide close and she moans quietly.

Leon's answering groan is nearly lost in the flurry of moves as he pushes her away from him, back against the wall. For a second she sees the burning look in his eyes and she feels like he has set her on fire but then his lips press down on hers and she forgets to think altogether.

It's hard and fast and hot. He's punishing her and she welcomes it. There's nothing gentle about it, he bites, nips and sucks, but Claire doesn't care. Hands fly over clothes, grasp, pull and tug, greedy to find skin. Claire's mouth opens under the pressure of his lips, wet, hot, and all his. Leon can't get enough of her.

He swallows another moan as his hands pull her shirt apart and down her bra. His fingers close around her naked breasts and as he brushes his thumbs, lightly but deliberately, across her nipples, she jerks against him. Her head falls back, baring her throat and Leon wastes no time. He drags his lips down the arch of her neck to the soft place where her throat meets her shoulder and bites down, marking her as his.

She cries out, arches her back and God help her, she has never been this aroused, this wet and desperate for anyone. She wants him. Wants him now, here, against the wall in the corridor of her flat. He chuckles and she feels it ripple through his body, as his tongue soothes the mark he left, as if he knows what's she thinking.

The need to touch him is overwhelming and she pushes her fingers through his hair before splaying them across his broad shoulders, then further south, down his muscular chest, down to the fly of his jeans where she digs her nails into the sensitive skin...

His control snaps and with a barely suppressed growl he grasps the back of her tights, hoists her up and steps in between her open legs. Claire gasps, her eyes flying back to his and her legs instinctively clamp around his waist, the heels of her bare feet digging into the small of his back.

Eyes lock as Leon's hand fists the hem of her skirt and slowly drags it up until it's bunched around her waist. A whimper escapes her lips as his fingers make contact with her through the thin fabric of her panties and she can tell from the darkening of his eyes that he feels how wet she is for him.

Lightly at first, then with every pass applying more and more pressure, he begins to rub her there, and Claire groans, feels her body responding until her hips are rocking in time to his ministrations. "Oh, God...Leon..."

"Yes, Claire, me," he tells her hoarsely, "from now till forever." And with that he shoves the scrap of fabric aside and plunges one finger deeply into her.

"Gah!" Her whole body arches against him, deepening the penetration." Le-Leon...ahhhh - !"

"You will never again go on a mission alone again. Is that clear?" She is going to tell him to fuck off, she really is, but then he adds a second finger to the first and all she can up with is an incoherent whimper. His head dips down to her breasts and he takes a nipple firmly in his mouth, teases it with his tongue, sucks and bites it before letting go with a pop.

"Do you understand, Claire?" She can't answer, is lost in the rhythm of his hand but then Leon stops, withdraws his fingers from her and Claire shudders at their sudden loss, tries to follow them with her hips but he holds her back. "Nuh uh...please, Leon..."

"Do you understand?" he asks her again, his voice almost as ragged as her own.

And she does. "God, yes, Leon, I do, just...please...I need you," she moans, her hands reaching for him, and he finally yields to her plea. The telltale sound of his pants being undone sends her heart racing and she feels herself becoming even wetter.

"Never without me again," he murmurs while moving both his hands to her hips to steady her against him and then he drives home, all the way with the first single plunge.

Claire bites her lips to keep from screaming and then there is nothing to do but hang on.

He stretches and fills her like no other has before, thrust for thrust she meets him, pain mixes with pleasure, oh, God, and he falls into her, drives into her harder, faster, deeper, his face hidden in her hair, his pants and her whimpers filling the air, urging them toward the climax that's rushing at them like a tidal wave of sensation.

"Come for me, Claire." It's his voice and words that send her over the edge. She comes for him, harder than she has ever come in her life, screaming and moaning his name over and over again.

Seconds later, biting down hard on the mark he left previously, making her scream all over again, Leon explodes inside her, flooding her with his seed.


Minutes pass, filled with heavy breathing and tiny moans, gentle caresses and slow kisses. It is Leon who finally breaks the silence.

"Claire, I-"

"Shhh." She presses a finger to his lips. "Later." Smiling up at him, she wiggles until he lets her slide down - the skin to skin contact sends pleasant shivers down her spine and makes him groan.

Intertwining their fingers, she turns towards her bedroom. He offers no resistance.

- END -