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Rev That Engine and Take My Hand

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After the pain killers wear off, Leon's eyes flutter open to familiar white walls and the stark stench of antiseptic all around her, coaxing a groan from her, and as she tries to sit upright, a twinge in her side prevents her from doing so. She must still be high, she thinks, because her blue eyes widen when she finally catches a glimpse of the enormous man half-draped over her hospital bed with his head turned to one side as he snores and drools all over the sheets.

"Fucking worrywart," she whispers with a little smile, carding her fingers through what little hair he had, military-styled cut that it was, "you should be at home resting."

Their line of work left little time for rest or relaxation, Leo knows, and maybe that's why she cherishes the quieter moments after a successful mission and the inevitable trip to the local hospital. Chris would always be there at the end of the day, arms folded over his broad chest as he paced in the hallway, no doubt, as he waited for the doctor's report, and then he'd rush into the room to confirm her safety for himself, sighing with relief and collapsing at her bedside like he always did; Leon can't help chuckling at the thought and bends down to press her lips to the corner of his jaw, thankful for the oasis the hospital always provided her with after a stressful job.