"I am...unimpressed." He said so delicately without a trace of emotion in tone nor face. The concealing black shades hid well the note of amusement sparking in his sharp blue eyes. The woman, though she could be hardly more than a girl of eighteen, clutched the clipboard ever tighter to her chest. On the curvy side, she wore black slacks and a blue button dress shirt beneath the pristine white lab coat. Her hair was a dark brunette cut to her ears in a severe bowl style that was somehow flattering to her open, easily expressive face.

She radiated anger; Wesker could easily read that.

"Dr. Wesker, even you must agree that this lab has produced a breakthrough with the Progenitor strain." Her voice was clipped, spitting out the words 'Dr.' Wesker surveyed her reflection in the plastiglas window. Within, a mutated Cephalopod had emerged from the pool, pulling itself across the holding floor swiftly. The speakers were turned off. No one could hear the awful squelch - squelch of its forward progress.

"You have made monsters." He said tonelessly; Spencer wanted human monsters. Monsters whose aggression could be controlled by a human superior, the ultimate soldier sold for millions to the military forces of the world. "And a monster no matter its origin or intelligence can never surpass the human race." Wesker tired of her flashing blue eyes. The woman verged on a retort, no less than a full verbal lashing despite his superior ranking within Umbrella.

Still yet, he wondered why William had chosen such an emotionally unstable woman as a protégé? Certainly, old man Spencer had allowed it. The file he'd been sent, told of her early days with a thief for a father, the father's eventual capture and subsequent prison sentence. In private, Birkin had filled in the gaps. She had been adopted soon after, passed through high-school, earned a scholarship to attend Raccoon University. She might've eventually gone to an ordinary job, a life away from sterile labs, had her adopted mother never been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.

He supposed the company propaganda of a better quality of life had gone to the head of the impressionable young woman. Birkin had seemed to think so. Through a public sponsorship of the college, a few select Umbrella scientists were momentarily in the public light. Birkin had met her during one of these functions when she'd given him a tour of the Biochemistry lab, coming away convinced she had a future with the company.

Wesker had seen nothing to warrant his friend's glowing praises, nor confidence in the woman's meager background.

"There is..."

He didn't bother favoring her a full glance. The woman was far beneath his notice. From furious to almost - hesitant? Most lower forms of life didn't bounce from one emotion to the next. He refused to waste more thought on analyzing the rapid switch of emotions she was capable of. Birkin was rarely interested in anything above furthering his own work; perhaps he had underestimated his friend's emotional capacity toward members of the female species. At any rate, he hadn't any interest in furthering relations between his own work and that processed through Arklay.

"I haven't the time to waste on more..." his lip curled slightly. "Inadequacies."

The woman's lips parted in an angry snarl.

Wesker curbed the strange, slight taste for riling up the researcher. He...liked, seemed too strong a word for something completely ambiguous and out of character for him. He enjoyed the power - ah, yes, enjoyed, the ability he had to manipulate her emotions. Maybe that was Birkin's own special gluttony for punishment. He had said her rows in the lab were legendary among the interns. "Good day, Dr. Valentine." He couldn't suppress the smirk that curved his lips into a perfect mask of disdain as he walked away.

Jill couldn't believe it. And this was William Birkin's best friend? No doubt, only friend. The scientist was a loner among his colleagues; Jill counted herself among others as a learner of the researcher's own method to madness. Dedication, she could admire such as Birkin's forced isolation from the outside world. Sometimes, she even thought she understood him a little better as a person, though her reasons were far less worldly than his for Spencer's ambitions.

It had been on the tip of her tongue to present to the arrogant blond-haired bastard the crowning achievement of the Arklay Labs.

Subject: type B: NE-alpha remembered by few to have once been Lisa Trevor.

TBC

Disclaimer: Capcom owns RE

AN: Just a random plotbunny :-) no flames please.