Work Text:
The sun shining through the window of your room woke you up. The warm rays gently caressed your face as you rubbed last night's slumber from your eyes. The king-sized bed was soft, and the fluffy duvet hugged every inch of your skin. It was one of the rarer days when you woke up before your personal assistant, Selma, would barge in through your doors and start talking about how your schedule looked for the day.
A few months ago, your father won the United States presidential election, and since then, you have not had a moment to yourself. Your life and day are controlled by a strict schedule. You never know if you will be greeting some military troops or reading books to children, but Selma has it all under control. It took some time for you to get adjusted to it all, but your father was fiercely protective of you, so he sometimes allowed you some respite from public duties. Today was not one of those days, the way Selma walked in with her iPad, all serious and stern.
“Good morning miss. I do hope you got some rest because today you’re opening up a new wildlife sanctuary at Columbia Heights at ten AM, a final fitting for the gala dress tonight at eleven-fifty AM, lunch with your mother to discuss university options at twelve-thirty PM, your father has requested your presence at the Oval Office at three PM for the Medal of Honour ceremony, after that we rush to glam for the gala tonight. The pre-drinks start at six PM.”
Selma said it was almost impressive without breaking a sweat.
“That sounds… wonderful. I shall wear the baby blue dress today, and please make sure that my hairdresser checks the humidity today before they do something that won't end up as a headline for TMZ. Also, I want to see the menu for lunch beforehand, and if you would be so kind as to ask the kitchen to make me a smoothie?” you say in the same spirit as she was in as you rise from the bed, grabbing your robe. Selma wrote down the requests and then sent a message to have the smoothie done.
“Done and done, you have about 8 minutes in the shower if we are to stay on schedule,” she shouts as you lock yourself in your bathroom and you quickly rid yourself of your pyjamas and tie your hair up, just a quick body shower. You then apply sunscreen and body lotion before you walk out to see that your glam team has arrived. Walking over to the table where your smoothie was, you grabbed it with both hands and skipped over to the chair where the team worked their magic.
Your hair and makeup were simple, nothing too flashy, but still put together. You put on your dress and picked up your heels before jogging down the stairs, with Semla following behind you to reach the Oval Office to say good morning to your father. Even though he was the most important person in the country, he was still your father, and he always made time for you, his precious little girl.
“Good morning dad,” you said with a smile before you placed a peck on his cheek.
“Good morning sunshine, feeling well, I hope?” he asks, as he brings his coffee cup up to his lips.
“Feeling marvellous, I shall see you at three!” you say as you put on your shoes beside him. Selma now catches up with you and ushers you to the door. You give your dad a wave goodbye and start walking to the entrance hall. Even though you live in the White House, where people are constantly coming and going, you always feel at home.
A security agent opens the door for you and accompanies you to your car, where he opens the door and closes it. You smooth out your dress when you sit down. It was rather warm today, so you were glad with the choice of clothing being a lighter shade.
As you arrived at the sanctuary, you were flooded with camera flashes and your name being shouted from every side. You smiled politely and waved occasionally. It was a lot for such an early morning, but you did not complain as you fixed your hair for some more posed photos.
“Over here miss! Over the shoulder! Look forward!’’ you hear from every angle, but it all went away when Selma pulled you inside the building, where you were greeted by several people, the owner, the sponsors, architects, staff and two little girls holding a bouquet and a deer plushie ran up to you to hand the gifts over, which you gladly accepted.
The opening ceremony was nothing grand; you cut a ribbon and were given a tour of the sanctuary, petted a few of the first patients there, which was magnificent and then gave a small speech about protecting the wildlife. You ended the speech, and a round of applause was given to you. A big smile formed on your face.
There was no time to rest since you were ushered straight away to the boutique to get a few finishing touches to your dress for tonight’s gala, which was being held in honour of a few US agents getting the Medal of Freedom. You were excited since you always liked dressing up in fancy dresses and meeting so many people.
The dress was a yellow satin sheath dress with long sleeves. It hugged your body in all the right places and made you look regal. Paired with some jewellery and your hair done up, you would be the talk of the ball. Which you wanted to be.
After you were done being stabbed in your sides by tiny needles for a tiring amount of time, your dress was finally finished, and you were off to lunch. Selma handed you the menu for the place you were going to. It was an Italian restaurant, and you quickly skimmed over the menu before deciding on some pasta dish with white wine sauce.
Your mom stood up and hugged you as you walked over to her. She had arrived earlier, or maybe you arrived late. The lunch was planned with the intention of talking about university, but the only thing on your mind was the gala tonight.
“So darling, have you looked at any of the programs I sent you earlier?” your mom asked, trying to sound serious, but it came out rather calmly.
“Not yet, I am trying to look into them, I promise,” you reply with a pout. “It is just that, I really just want to be confident in my choice, and I know I have taken a gap year to think about it-” you continue, but are cut off by your mom.
“Your father and I will support you in whatever you decide. There is no point in rushing,” your mom says, rubbing your arm as she smiles at you.
The lunch is quickly over, so you head home just in time to catch up with your dad before the ceremony begins. You describe your dress and how the day went. He listened to you very carefully and watched you with stars in his eyes.
“So we are awarding five people today, four of them are getting discharged with honours, and the fifth one is an agent getting rewarded for distinguished service.” Your dad says to you as he looks over the list of people with his finger, mumbling the names to himself.
You walked alongside your dad to the Oval Office and were met with flashes from cameras. Your dad shook hands with the recipients first, and then you. The first man was in a wheelchair and had apparently lost both his legs in combat; the second one had a long scar across his face, and upon further inspection, his ear had been cut off clean; the third one had burn scars over his body; the fourth one was half blind in both eyes. They all shook your hands and bowed their heads with respect. Then, the fifth recipient, an older, rougher man, with a great posture, looked straight forward until your dad called out his name, when he held out his hand to your dad, and a smirk appeared on his face as your dad shook his hand and placed his other on his shoulder.
The man had dark blonde, greying hair that covered one side of his face, stubble on his chin, and piercing blue eyes that had seen some tough action. The back of his neck started to show some roughness; he was probably in his mid-to-late forties, you thought. You noticed his calloused hands when he gave your dad a pat on the back before your dad went to the podium to deliver a speech to the press.
You were staring, and the clicks and flashes from cameras all became a blur; everything but him was clouded. You snapped back into reality when your dad calmed the room, and you collected yourself and reached out your hand to the agent.
“Leon Kennedy, miss, at your service.” the man said as he took your delicate hand in his own rough ones. His voice was deep and sent chills down your spine. His cologne smelled of an aroma of wood and earthy tones.
“Pleasure to meet you,” you manage to say, “Thank you for your service.” The way his hair covered his brow was enthralling; some lines had begun to show around his eyes when he smirked.
After staring at him for a few seconds, you went and stood behind your dad, trying to focus your attention on him, but you would always look over your shoulder to watch him. You would sometimes see that he watched in your direction, but he was discreet.
The award ceremony was quick, you were simply supposed to be standing beside your dad as he gave the medals. Your attention always shifted back to Leon, he was like some divine force pulling you to him.
The way his head hung low when your dad gave him the medal made your stomach turn, in a good and satisfying way. The flashes from cameras made the scene more beguiling. The way his breath blew the hair in front of his face was cinematic.
After the ceremony was over, you went to your room, almost running while Selma trailed after you, but you needed to be alone. You walked into the room, trying to close the door, but Selma was fast and held the door open, trying to catch your breath. You ran into the bathroom and shut the door. You put your hand on your chest and tried to slow down your breath.
“Miss, are you alright?” Selma asks while she knocks at the door.
“Ye- yes Selma, I just really needed to go,” you reply and clear your throat. “I’m going to wash my hair and um- shower, and I might take a nap before we get ready for tonight. That will be all, Selma, thank you.” You finish and turn on the shower as you can hear Selma depart the room, mumbling something.
You discard your dress and step into the shower, allowing the warm water to cover your entire body. You grab the shampoo and then the conditioner, then the body wash. You use a cloth and pump some soap on it and start scrubbing and scrubbing, your mind is on one thing only, Leon. His breath, his touch. It was haunting your every thought. You snapped back into reality and turned off the shower. Stepping out, you wrapped a towel around your hair and put on a robe before walking out of the bathroom.
Selma had already closed the curtains, so you could shut your eyes for a few, you grabbed your phone and got under the covers. Typing in “Leon Kennedy”, but not much popped up, shame he was an agent.
You closed your eyes, trying to get rid of his image and silhouette out of your head, but he plagued your mind, and twisting and turning did not help. You removed your robe, so it was just your bare body under the sheets. You started feeling rather hot and started breathing heavily.
You felt helpless, completely at the mercy of some image of a man that came in flashbacks in your mind.
You took a big breath and lay on your back, and as you stared at the ceiling, with your hand on your belly, you started to feel at ease, and as if your own hand had betrayed you, it ventured further down between your thighs, and you felt your fingers go damp the moment you touched yourself. Another big breath came from you, and you closed your eyes and then touched the spot where you felt chills. You sped up the pace and started arching your back as you gave into your touch. Just when you were about to reach a state of euphoria. A knock on the door pulled your hand away, and you sat up, pulling the covers over your body. Shaken but quick to pull yourself together, you replied with a polite “Enter.”
“I hope I did not wake you, miss, but it is time to get ready,” Selma said as she walked in and opened up the curtains. She did not notice your state of nature, which you were grateful for. You grabbed the robe and tied it around you, and when Selma saw you dressed, she ushered the glam team in.
While they got you ready, you stared out your window while the glam team was working around you. When someone asked which jewellery set you wanted to wear tonight, you shook your head and examined the choices.
“I think I’ll wear the yellow sapphire pendant tonight, it will match my dress,” you say after clearing your throat.
“Excellent choice miss. I’ll have it pulled from the vault,” the woman says to you, smiling.
“Selma,” you say, not knowing where she is since you have to stay still.
“Yes, miss?” she says before sitting down near you.
“The recipients, do we have any more info about them?” you ask her.
“The military men were on a mission in Northern Asia and got ambushed by–” she starts before you cut her off. “I mean, do we know anything about the agent recipient?’’ you ask as you bite the inside of your cheek.
“Let me check,” she says as she puts on her glasses and starts clicking her tablet and pulling up some documents, “Leon Scott Kennedy, born 1977, served time in the military, an operative in a secret deployment by the state, some odd jobs here and there for the country, is currently working with the DSO.”
“He sounds like quite a man.” you say with a shocked face. He had clearly seen so much already. You then flat-out asked about his personal life, which made Selma look up.
“What about his wife? Does he have children?” you say, quickly regretting it based on Selma’s reaction, but scrolls some more and displays a small frown.
“Unmarried and childless.” Selma says.
When you hear those two words, your heart beats a little faster, and you straighten up your back. How could he not be married? Women of all ages are surely drawn to him and would be fighting for even a glance from those icy orbs of his.
After some time, you were in full glam, and your hair was styled so that it was up. Your dress arrived, and as you stepped into it, you felt like a princess. The last finishing touch was the necklace that was loaned to you by a jewellery store. It must have been worth millions.
You arrived at the entrance of the dining hall, where your parents awaited you. Your mother rushed up to you and asked why you were late, while your father had a huge smile on his face.
“Look at you, my darling girl!” he said as he took your hand and spun you around. You smiled widely and blushed.
“Thank you dad,” you say with a laugh. “Now let’s get on with it,” you continue and then clear your throat.
The door opens, and a round of applause and flashes welcome you as you walk in. The dining hall was grand, with big bouquets on every table and candles. You, along with your parents, walked to the end of the table and took your seat. Your dad then said a few words, talking about honour and bravery.
While all eyes were on your dad, you could feel a pair of eyes watching you. It was Leon who watched you with watchful eyes, and when he saw that you noticed him, he looked down at his lap. You felt sad when his eyes left you.
The dinner went smoothly, with some occasional staring at Leon, who was rather reserved during the dinner. He simply drank the wine and stared at the plate in front of him.
When the dinner ended, it was tradition for the president and his wife to dance. Your parents took the floor, and you watched them sway with each other. You were then beckoned by your dad to join, and you watched with confusion because you did not have a partner, or so you thought.
“Miss,” a voice comes up from behind you, his voice “allow me,” he says as he extends his arm. You hesitate a moment, but then grab his arm as he leads you to the floor. Your eyes remain glued to him while he watches where he is leading you.
You are now face-to-face, and you can smell the wine on his hot breath and how cold his hand is when he takes your hand. You become stiff when he places his other hand on your waist, and before you know it, you start to sway. Your focus is completely on him, you don’t even notice it when other people start joining you on the dance floor.
“So, Mr Kennedy, tell me about yourself.” you ask him.
“What would you want to know?” he replies, smug.
Everything, you think.
“I don’t meet many people who work for the DSO. Could you tell me more about it?” you ask him. Suddenly, his hand squeezes yours, clearly hinting he won't talk about it.
“I’m afraid that is classified miss.” he said in a low tone. The tone sent a chill down your spine, but you managed to tame your composure.
“I would have you know that it was my father who most likely issued that order.” you say with a chuckle. He smirks but shakes his head, exhaling.
The distance between your bodies is closing with each minute, and you exchange a few jokes and laughs before you stop and return to your seat. Your cheeks turned pink when he walked away, and you went to your table. Your dad noticed it.
“Well, well, who do I need to run a background check on?” he jokes, and you punch his arm.
You see that Leon has not returned to his seat, so you look around to see if you can find him, but you can’t notice him. You reach for your drink and relax into the seat.
A few minutes pass, and you are debating whether you want to retire for the evening. You take one last look around the room to see if you can spot Leon, but you can not find him. A frown almost painted your face, but you shook your head and asked your dad if you could leave. Which he allowed you to, but not before kissing your cheek and bidding you a good night.
You stood up and walked to the entrance, not bothering to look around you. The music was playing softly until it wasn't. A flash of light happened before you, and the walls shook, and then you fell onto the floor. A window had been smashed beside you, and some shards cut your face and arms. A rather big gash was on your left arm, but you tried to stop the bleeding with your hand. You collect your thoughts, and when your vision had somewhat returned to you, two men with masks on grabbed you and dragged you away from the room.
You tried to scream, but you felt so weak and powerless. You only hoped they were your father's men, but that was not the case. Just as you started to gather your thoughts, you could hear one of the men say something about how the target was acquired. The pounding headache and lights were not helping, and you were prepared to shut your eyes, but then one of the men in front of you stumbled back and fell to the floor, and the other one shortly followed.
Suddenly, a silhouette of a man was in front of you, and you could recognise that silhouette since it had been deeply embedded in your mind. He was holding a gun in his hand and looked around, making sure the path was clear and then placed the gun in a holster before he picked you up bridal style and walked into a janitor's closet nearby. He placed you down on the floor and picked up a broom to lock the door.
You were barely awake, but you could smell his woody scent and that roused you. You saw him blocking the door, and he looked at you to see that you were safe. Once the door was completely blocked off, you checked the rest of the room to secure it, and when he confirmed it, he got down on his knee to be face-to-face with you.
“Hey, hey- look at me.” he said while snapping his fingers to get your attention. He looked at your arm and grunted when he saw the blood. He looked around to find something clean to wrap around your arm. Despite being in a janitor’s closet, there was not much to use.
“Leon… I’m...” you mumbled
He removed his suit jacket and placed it over your lap to provide you with some warmth and comfort. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and ripped it so he could easily wrap it around your bleeding arm. He noticed how pale you had become and cupped your face in his hands to get you to wake up.
“Come on now, don’t close your eyes just yet, gorgeous, hey, let me see your eyes,” he says with your face in his hands.
You open your eyes and see those blue icy orbs staring at you, scanning your face for any kind of sign of hurt. You had removed his shirt and were now only wearing a tight t-shirt, which highlighted his muscles. He gave you a smile when he saw you were staring.
“That’s it, gorgeous, good girl.” He said that when he saw you were awake, you felt your face heat up when he said the last two words.
“Wha-, what happened…” You clear your throat, “Is my dad okay?” you continue and worry washes over your face.
“Calm down, your parents are secure, I have been told, but I haven't been able to get word about the situation outside. There is no telling how long we might be in here.” he says as he scans the door. Your eyes start to get watery, and he notices.
“Gorgeous, hey, I have stopped the bleeding on your arm, but I need to know if there are any other major injuries. Do you mind if I take a look at you?” He asks, trying to distract your mind from the situation.
You nod your head, fix your posture, and he stands up and checks your head, his hand touches the back of your head to see if there is any bleeding. Luckily, there is none. He had already scanned over your arms and saw no major cuts. Next came your legs and torso. His hands flexed, and he cleared his throat.
“I’ll be quick, I promise.” He looks at you before grabbing the jacket. It was a good thing you wore a lighter shade of colour tonight. There was no blood on your dress, but when he looked further down, he saw a small streak of crimson on your thigh. He cursed to himself.
“Hey, there is some blood on your thigh. I just want to make sure you’re okay, but if you want to check yourself… I- I understand.” he says with a shaky voice, clearly not prepared for this. I mean, who would be? To check under the skirts of the president’s daughter?
You look down and grab the hem of the dress, prepare to lift it, but all the strength from your body has vanished. You're embarrassed, not being able to check yourself, having to be assisted by someone else.
“Fuck it.” he cursed under his breath and grabbed your dress up to your thigh and checked the area. Luckily, there was just a small cut which had stopped bleeding. He sighed with relief and smiled before releasing the scenario he was in; his hand was dangerously close to your bare thigh, and he towered over you. Your eyes made contact, and you felt the world stop.
“Leon–” you start, but he cleared his throat, placed the jacket on your lap again and stood up, rubbing the back of his head. You closed your eyes, too tired to object.
He then could hear some commotion outside the door, so he removed a few objects to hear better. He could make out some words, but the one that made him get to work to remove all the objects was the word “Lucky Charm” It was a code name used for you, only security knew about it, and somehow Leon.
The objects clattering on the ground made you fully awake. His biceps were now shining due to the sweat. In any other scenario, it would have been a glorious sight, but you felt your eyes betraying you.
He opened the door and looked both ways before shouting something, beckoning someone to come over. You turned to the side, taking in his silhouette, before you felt lightheaded and were prepared to stumble to the floor, but a pair of strong hands captured you and held you up.
He held you gently and shouted for a medic as he picked you up and walked out of the janitor’s closet. The bright lights blinded you could hear people running to you with a stretcher. Leon placed you gently on the stretcher, being careful with your head, and once he saw that you were in safe hands, he sighed and smiled, caressing your cheek before quickly pulling away and informing the medics about your injuries.
As the medics wheeled you away, you heard a voice saying, “Lucky Charm secure.”