Author's Note: Here it is, after several attempts behind the scenes... Two Can Play, formerly known as How It All Began.

Unlike the original, this will take place much sooner. For those of you that are new and unfamiliar with the previous incarnation, the story began just after the first game. It had Wesker fleeing the exploding mansion and encountering Ada in the Arklay Woods. Since that horribly done start, my writing has improved and my ideas for this story along with it.

However, the intention hasn't. This will center around Wesker and Ada... And that is all that I will say. If you're curious enough to stick around, I think you'll enjoy what is here.

Now... On with the fic.

December 21, 1997

3:34 a.m.

Freezing rain came down in sheets, pelting the front of the black BMW 540iA with hundreds of tiny ice shards as it sped down the dark path. They made thunks that were quiet enough for him to sort of filter out in the background of his ever whirling mind, but presented a danger as annoying as the careless of this season. What was more of a concern was traversing over thick mud and frozen grass here in the Arklay Mountains. Had the meteorologist at Raccoon City channel 7 given a more accurate prediction for the weather he might have chosen his other vehicle, which was better suited for the ride. Fortunately for him, once he made it to his destination it was a short distance from where he parked to the front doors.

Finally in the distance, he spotted lights peering out of the mansion like many yellow eyes in a large face. The structure loomed over him when he pulled up, wheel turning in his grip for him to circle the fountain and angle his car where the driverside door would face away. That would make things easier now and when he departed. Pausing only long enough to turn the engine off, he stepped out of the warmth of his car and into the chilly morning. The air bit at his face, but it was his perfectly arranged hair that he protected with one hand while pocketing his keys and walking up to the entrance. Once inside the sound of the frozen rain became muffled behind the double doors, replaced by a blanket of silence there in the grand foyer.

It was not to last.

"Al!"

The butchering of his first name still caused an inward twitch of annoyance at times, and hearing it hissed by his colleague and friend of twenty years strengthened the feeling. Suppressing the urge to sigh he turned his head, and in doing so spotted the voice's owner waiting for him in the doorway to the dinning room. There was no mistaking the unease in William's eyes, which put him on edge; had they been found out? He quickly crossed the distance, combat boots making hardly a sound on the expensive tiling. "Trouble?" the single word was all he need say, the other knowing quite well what he alluded to. "No, no," shaggy blond strands waved with a shake of the head, the motion and verbal answer allowing Wesker to relax by a hair. "I was worried, though. You're late."

That earned a soft scoff as he lifted his left arm to quickly check the custom GSX watch on his wrist. Only six minutes past. "Hardly, Will. When we set the date for this little mission, you were well aware that tonight was another double shift. Had Aiken or Sullivan been late, or the weather any worse, we would not be having this conversation right now," It was immediately apparent by the way his features twisted that William had no response to refute his words. Instead some of the tension fled his shoulders and he let his hands drop from where they had been planted on his waist, "Fine. You win. Now, can we get what we came for?"

A quiet chuckle bubbled up from Wesker's chest, spilling over a brief flash of pearls "Of course," came the reply, accompanied by a single pat to the shoulder as he stepped past him and into the dinning room. Will gave a slight huff before he caught up and fell into step beside him, voice quiet despite there being no graveyard patrol in the area, "It's like you said; Peter and Scott are the only ones actively watching the grounds and handling any of the B.O.W.s tonight." His tone conveyed what a mistake he thought this was. Over the years they had botg privately and together noted that Spencer's idea of security was not as top notch as it should be.

"It's no secret that Mr. Smith will shirk his responsibilities to the subjects in his care, so we can count on his pattern of keeping to his room while we are here. And Mr. Dunn...?"

"On the other side of the property... Meeting up with that cute new guard who just transferred from Rockfort," the sly note in Will's response was overly obvious... Much like Scott, apparently. Wesker's mouth twitched upward at the left corner; less amusement, more pleasure that they were practically being handed the opportunity on a silver platter. After that was established, neither said another word for a while as they journeyed into the hidden labs beneath the estate. The silence a comfortable one. Now that they were both there and all was looking to be as smooth as satin for their plans, a familiar confidence was present. A confidence that was born of years spent getting away with their schemes together.

It was as they were in the elevator and being lowered down that Wesker finally broke the quiet, "Do you have everything waiting for us?" He was removing the fingerless tactical gloves of his S.T.A.R.S. uniform when his companion responded, hands in the pockets of the lab coat he wore, "Yep. Parked it all in Davies' lab before I went up to wait for you," A pause where grey-blue eyes turned to him, dancing with mirth "Do you know how easy it was to hack his security? The password was 'undercoverlover56'–in binary code!" It was clear just how funny he found the situation and Dr. Davies' choice in code, but the only thing Will got in return for his rather unnecessary share was a single brow raise. His mood soured a little, a frown replacing his all too brief grin "That was comedy gold. You need to get a sense of humor."

"So you've told me." quipped the taller of the two, who took the lead and exited the elevator car when the door slid away. He was followed by one scientist grumbling beneath his breath.

Down there was a different sort of quiet. Above it was like suffocation, a sense that it was forced and that every noise you made was wrong. The labs, however, had a sort of life that was missing–or stolen–from the property above. Perhaps that was because the mansion was an artificial surface covering the truth below, while the labs were the heart of it. If one listened you could hear the faint hum of technology, from computer and the tanks where some creatures were suspended in wait. A little louder were those awake and contained; some growling in protest, others in hunger. These were all things they expected to be the white noise around them as they checked over the gathered supplies.

It was as they were just about to put their gloves on for the procedure... When they heard it. The click of something pointed moving over the concrete floor, but it was unlike that of talons or claws scraping. There were no hissing or growling noises accompanying it, which ruled out B.O.W.s for the most part. That left something human. Something knowingly or unknowingly interfering with their mission. Given the nature and time sensitivity, interference could not be tolerated. With a flick the Samurai Edge's safety strap released, allowing him to free the firearm from its holster. He didn't look up as he checked the magazine and removed a silencer from a pocket to fit on the muzzle, "You came prepared?" Hushed voice carried the couple of feet between them, answered by an equally quiet Yes. and a metallic flash in his peripheral.

"Excellent. Follow my lead."

From behind he caught a disgruntled mumble that may have been 'Knew it was going too well.' yet chose not to comment. Instead he took point position and exited Davies' lab, beloved gun in the right hand as the left steadied it, ears primed in search. It did not take long to discern the direction, and soon after, which room the noise was coming from. Two away and on the opposite from the one they had been prepping in, they found themselves on either side of Dr. John Clemens' lab. The current Head Scientist of Arklay... Who had managed to get an extra day off to spend more time in Chicago with his family. Family he had seen only twice since having been promoted and moving from his native city. Doubtless, the soft fool would want to take advantage of what little time that he had been given.

Well, whoever was inside Clemens' lab was in for a nasty surprise. Using basic hand signals to indicate his plan, he waited for the nod from Will before activating the sliding door and stepping in. It did not take long to find them–or rather, her. There was no denying that, with feminine features and a figure to match under the tasteful, weather approptiate attire she wore. Asian ancestry, caramel-brown eyes that her burgundy button up and and black tactical slacks complimented well. Definitely a holster beneath the grey wool overcoat and with speed lthe likes that had her aiming at him, she was well versed in drawing the Browning HP from it. Though the other man was behind his right shoulder, he could easily imagine the surprise and wariness felt without seeing it, but the majority of his attention was on her.

Beautiful. Subtly deadly. Intriguing.

"Madame," his accent curled around the greeting, having decided he would take the initiative after their quick but thorough mutual observation and address her first. Her gaze switched between them, but there was not so much as a hint of fear to be found. On the contrary; she was every inch as cool and collected as he. Interesting. "Gentlemen," a sultry purr that was pleasing to the ear, "It looks as if we're at an impasse here," He hummed in agreement, the rumble coming from the depths as he considered her and the possible reasons for her being in the Head of Arklay's lab–of which there were numerous answers. "It would seem so," a slight tilt of the head, the flourescents bouncing off his shades. "Perhaps we could rectify that... Starting with your name."

Her eyes flickered with some sort of emotion, but it was there and gone in a flash; far too fast fot even him to read. It intrigued him all the more as he watched behind a mask of indifference, awaiting an answer. She came to a decision in the space of two heartbeats, having apparently weighed her options, "Ada. Ada Wong," The name held no significance to Wesker, but from the noise of dawning comprehension behind him it did for William, who moved forward by a few steps. That allowed him to look out the corner of his eye behind the shades for a glance, and he could practically see whatever pieces of the puzzle his friend had being put together. "Wait, I've heard that name before..." the sentence trailed off, soon picked up as the genius lowered his gun "You're John's girlfriend!"

Girlfriend? Well, that was certainly not on the list of potential explanations for her being there. Though perhaps it should have been, his instincts were never wrong; there was far more to this woman than that. "Yes. We'll have been dating for five months this coming January," her voice was like spun silk, a web that was meant to draw them in. Redirect the conversation. Not at all a bad attempt either, but he would not be led by anyone.

"Touching, really," his mocking drawl extended the length of the second word and cut through whatever response his partner in crime might have gone with. "Yet that does not explain what you're doing in his lab at four in the morning, while he's out of town," There was a shift in her, a play of emotions mostly hidden by the sudden frostiness she regarded him with. He suspected it was as much for his tone as the fact that he had derailed her plan to control the situation. Yet she did not rise to the bait as so many others did. Instead he found her composed, with an answer to match." Or maybe it does. John called me a little over an hour ago, saying he forgot some files that he meant to bring with him to Chicago–"

"–And being the dutiful girlfriend, you volunteered to come retrieve them for him."

At that she gave the barest nod, the arm of her unoccupied hand coming up to loosely wrap around her middle, her stance and expresion making her appear without a worry. Believable as that satiny tone, which gave nothing away. Wesker suspected that she was being truthful–but not wholly. Privately he could admit to being a little miffed that she was such a closed book. One that he had to pay utmost attention to for any sort of read; he had no way of knowing he was much the same to her. Or just how well she had rigged things so that she could take advantage of the lack of activity over the short holiday break. What he did know was that she was not merely John's significant other... She was far too self possessed, her gun hand steady as a rock; an agent if he ever saw one.

And that opened just the sort of avenues he was looking for.

"You don't believe me," a statement, the matter of fact tone she used leaving no room to mistake it for question. She was right, of course. Partially. Before he could answer though, she was pressing on, "Has your job made you naturally mistrustful of everyone, or are you just projecting?" He went completely still at that, only years of honing the skill allowing him to remain a blank slate in the face of her accusation, when he was quite irked by it. William, on the other hand, was bristling like a sleep deprived tabby cat "Hey, I'll have you know–" But he did not allow his indignant objection get any further. That would be falling for her well executed hand, and that would bungle the newly formed plans he had. Switching primary grip to his left hand he used the right to take the younger man by the shoulder, capturing his attention with a warning squeeze. "Clever and amusing, Ms. Wong. Qualities your Mr. Clemens must value in you..."

Wariness flashed in her eyes, a hint that she knew whatever the road was headed for was undesirable. He continued, head tilting down so that he could peer over the top of his shades at her "What a shame it would be if he returned from his holiday to the news that you were disposed of for snooping in Umbrella's work–his work," Though there was not a hint of malice in his words or voice, it was a warning all the same. One she would do well to heed. They locked gazes, pale blue and molten brown, neither willing to be the first to look away. Not a single word uttered as both seemed to be searching the other. After what seemed like minutes–or hours for unfortunate, just a bit irritated Birkin–she broke the stalemate. "You boys still haven't told me your names." casual, calm. As if she had not just been threatened with death or worse.

Suppressing the urge to smirk with his little victory, he released the shoulder in his grip and used two fingers to fix his shades back into place. "Ah, so we haven't. Apologies my dear lady. This is..." he trailed off, shooting a quick look at his colleague beside him. One that was understood without words. Throat cleared, the shorter of the two blonds followed the order with the same pride in his spine as was in his voice "Doctor William Birkin, Head of Raccoon City's underground labs." A smug hint changing the little frown he had been wearing; peacocking even when clearly unhappy with the situation and how little control he had... Will would never change. Wouldn't hurt to let him have his moment, though.

"Albert Wesker, senior officer for the Intelligence Division," his gunpoint introduction, watching her with the same calculated gaze as hers when she looked between them. Not for the first time he found himself wondering at her thoughts, if she recognized their names from whatever digging she or her bosses had managed. "And I," she sought his eyes behind the shades, and found them almost instantly "Have a proposition for you." He could see Will's head whip around to look at him, dread and uncertainty warring for first place in his expression. Yet he did not give the other man room to protest, to pull him aside for a huddle. Time was still of the essence and they had all three dawdled long enough. Continuing to stand there and dance around the matter at hand was taking an unnecessary risk.

For a moment he could see she had not been expecting something like that. It showed despite how easily she wore a casual, unaffected air, her words reflecting her poise "Oh? I'm dying to hear it." He allowed himself the chuckle forming in his chest, the sound rolling and deep. Wrist turned, the silenced muzzle of his Samurai Edge pointing up at the ceiling instead of her as he began a slow walk to close the distance. To her credit, Ada remained collected and observant of their every move–his in particular, but he knew she was keeping an eye on his partner as well. Her hand holding the gun was steady, even when it halted him from moving closer, lightly pressing against his solar plexus. Behind him he could hear the hammer of Will's firearm being primed, and so gestured with his free hand for him to stand down. It was good to be prepared, but she would not be shooting him today.

Using that same hand he reached up, pinching an ear piece of his shades between thumb and forefinger to slip the eyewear off. "Secure me a meeting with your employer within the month, and I will get you more information than you or they have gathered combined." An intake of air, not unlike a gasp through painted tiers. His full first name was whisper shouted behind him, but he did not acknowledge it. Later they would have their talk about all of this, but for now it could wait. Wesker kept himself carefully blank as she scanned his face for any sort of tell as to whether or not he was lying, setting her up. There was an instant where he thought he could see a spark of frustration; it disappeared before anyone could blink, though. Time was suspended as he extended a blue latex clad hand, waiting for her to take it.

There was a second or two where he felt a twinge of concern that she might reject his offer. He was certain she was suspicious of him and his motives–rightly so, given how he was suggesting betrayal against one of the most powerful companies in the world. But then she was lowering the Browning HP and slipping her hand in his. Palm to palm, her soft warmth seeping through the thin material as slender fingers clasped in a grip equal to his. They shook once, a moment's lingering as she finally spoke, "We have a deal, Wesker."

Something in the way her tongue wrapped around his name told him the future would be anything but dull.

Author's Note: This has been a long time coming, and I'm pleased to unveil it. Hopefully those interested before will see the improvements and enjoy where my new vision is headed. For those just arriving, believe me when I say this is better than the first attempt.

Flames will be used to kill Plant 42. Genuine criticism welcome.