Intertwine (RE4: Leon Kennedy x Reader) [Leon POV] [Book#1] [COMPLETE]

Chapter Twenty Seven: Heads or Tails

Deacon's POV

Son of a bitch...

I knew this was going to stain.

I knew it was going to bother me. 

 I dab at the stained material from the coffee that was spilled onto me with a paper towel, I want to scrub the thing but I know I'm just going to ruin the material! 

I slab my fist down hard on the ceramic sink thinking I had made a crack in it. The water continues to run through the faucet as I look at my reflection in the mirror. I don't know why I'm taking all my anger out on my expensive apparel, this is me worried about my friend. 

What kind of group is Kennedy dealing with? How could they cut me off like that? 

My pride is a little hurt. 

A lot actually but my concern is Kennedy. As much as I want to get the stain out of my clothes and find out his after hour hobbies....that's gonna have to be another time. Hunnigan doesn't want any of my help but she's got no other choice. I'll just use her station when she's away.... hopefully. Wishful thinking but she must have some sort of plan? If she doesn't well then she's not doing her job quick enough, I gotta figure out something.

I'm hoping she'll realize I'm the best chance she's got. 

I'd use my computer but I don't have the proper equipment.  

Shit. 

Motherfucker.

Fuck!

Leon is probably crying for assistance and we ain't giving it to him. 

My hand reaches the faucet and turns the water off hearing a single drop drip every few seconds. I shouldn't be here wasting time, I need to start moving my ass. I gather my suit jacket carefully resting it on my forearm and leaving the men's bathroom. 

Keeping a straight face, I make a b-line straight to Kennedy's office. If I get disciplined for this might as well show all evidence in his office. Not very nice of me but he'll thank me for getting him home alive. 

I entered his unlocked office, mentally thanking past me for saving current me the trouble of having to pick the lock a second time, and shut the door behind me. I removed my stained jacket and neatly placing it behind the desk's chair.

I sat my ass down facing towards the computer screen seeing it light up waiting for a password to be entered. Does a guy like him keep his password written down on a post-it note somewhere or does he memorize it? I open the middle drawer of the desk seeing how neatly he keeps his desk. Two black pens and one blue in a little neat organizer slot, two yellow highlighters in another, a screwdriver, a pair of scissors, mini binder clips-- this is your normal clean desktop. What's weird is how neatly this is put together. I'm neat but I'm not that neatly organized. I closed the drawer opening another on the right side seeing paperwork files so orderly labeled. Jeez, this guy needs to get a life. Closing that drawer and moving over to the left side nothing but extra printer paper, notebooks and papers that need to be shredded.

Seeing his way of things make me question why I'm friends with him, but I can't wait to get my hands on him and pop that little cherry of his. I'll show him the best places where he can take the beautiful ladies and get a taste of fine dining. God knows he's probably living off ninety ninety cent ramen noodles, ugh --disgusting. 

Maybe that's why he never smiles. 

When that day happens all the other agents will know that Jacob Deacon broke Kennedy's depressing phase. 

For now....I'll have to bypass his god damn password. The hint for his password is nineteen ninety eight, hmm. What the hell does that mean? Is that his birth year? There is a million possibilities what this could mean.