A/N: Remember how I said I'd redo this? Well, I kinda felt like it right now. Also, this is pretty damned AU. It does have an OC character that plays a big role as well, and last time I didn't even mean to make Kick a huge thing but it just happened, I liked that bitch and I missed her since I haven't been working on this. However, some things need to be changed and though I liked the original story it needs tweaks, especially done to Kick and Wesker's relationship as with Claire and Wesker's. This is ClairexWesker (budding thing) and LeonxOC. Since it's budding this is going to play out different and Claire will have a bit of an obsession. I also needed to write/post something because I have been having a rough time… pretty irritated with a lot of people.

Disclaimer: I don't own RE, but I own this fic and Kick. (she's funny), along with Patricia and Saul.

Claire

September 14, 2000

4:19 PM

It had only been two years since Raccoon City, yet I knew I'd never forget what happened there. None of us would, but we had no choice but to move on from it. And by "we" I meant the few survivors. If we didn't leave the past behind us then how could we ever hope to be happy? Right now though, happiness wasn't something we cared for, not for ourselves at least; if we let our guard down then we'd die with all we had left: pride. Chris never wanted for me to live this life with him, a life that involved hopeless raids and battles against bioterrorists that weren't willing to back down until the day the world ended and money was no longer worth the paper it was printed on. Actually that day seemed to be approaching us, yet the criminals had begun lusting for something that never decreased in value: power. Power was something that we all craved in this day and age, clawing our way to the top and pulling down anyone else progressing towards it. Life was no longer a race to the bank, but to a seat on the throne. There were few people who knew this though, and they all had one thing in common: Umbrella.

You see at some point I began to understand the minds of madmen more and more easily, and this lead to a drastic life change that resulted in loss of interest in my past passions, and even worse: a desire to never shut my eyes at the end of the day. Originally I was just a normal college student who worried about the usual college student tasks and died for leisure time to begin so I could slack off and "poo, poo" any talk of real-life, adult problems. Claire Redfield rode bikes, Claire Redfield attended frat parties, Claire Redfield slept through lecture, but then Claire Redfield wasn't doing any of those things anymore. Claire wasn't sleeping well, she wasn't at ease within the walls of her parents' cabin that they'd left for their two children, and she wasn't at peace with herself. There was a boy that visited her every other night, his body broken, his eyes conveying a sadness that forced her to feel his pain, and his voice shook with the fear of knowing that his death was imminent. His life slipped away every other night before my eyes, whatever spark we humans had just dissipated, leaving a shell that bore no trace of life ever existing. I think… I think I saw Steve Burnside's soul leave.

That should've been the end of Steve Burnside, the last time that I thought of him; his parents had been killed and he had no one. Seventeen-year-olds usually hold no accomplishments. No football record, too short for basketball, too annoying to be popular, and too hard-headed to be a straight-A student. Steve Burnside left behind a single impression in his life, and it just so happened to be wasted on me, a girl he had barely known. I was the last person to care. At least that's what I thought.

A woman showed up in my hall one day, frantically hunting down Claire Redfield for confirmation of a death, and what else was I expected to do but comply? I was begged to give details about Steve's disappearance and subsequent death but I couldn't tell her much of anything. I couldn't tell her he was imprisoned at seventeen after witnessing his traitor father and innocent mother being murdered by Umbrella, I couldn't tell her that a deranged Umbrella Prince was keeping him to become a lab rat, I couldn't tell her that the man's even more deranged sister infected herself with a virus that turned her into an ant queen infected Steve with a variation of that virus and transformed him into an axe-wielding monster that tried to kill me. I couldn't tell her these things because it wasn't something anyone would believe and it wasn't something anyone could run their mouths about and expect to live. All I could tell her was that there was a man in black who took him.

That was the truth.

A man in black took Steve Burnside, and I hadn't heard anything since then. He could've been alive. He could've been dead. He could've been… I didn't even know anymore what could've been. If one came back then why couldn't the other?

My older brother stared at me with a smile that was conjured up only to make me feel welcome, although I knew he wished that I'd just go back to school and try to live a normal life. How cute that he even thought that was possible, and so that was a prayer that would remain unanswered, just as my prayer to have a night of sleep sans running for my life would always be. He held my suitcases close, and the grip with which he held on to them showed me that they were the only things to keep his hands occupied from breaking down the door on his own.

The heavy door swung open, revealing Leon already smiling at me broadly. He'd dressed casually in a fitted, blue tee and a pair of dark jeans, which made me feel better about showing up in sweat pants and a wife-beater. "Claire!" he cried, almost knocking Chris over as he pulled me into a bear hug. After Raccoon City I was glad that we could remain friends, and now I was glad that we were here together after all we'd been through. After he snatched the suitcases from my annoyed brother we walked in, and I felt like a cat that was unnerved and taking in all my surroundings just in case. The foyer was nothing special, just a means to get from the west wing to the right, and upstairs. The carpet was a drab, red, and the room was mostly made from a dark oak, the floors, the staircase, the square-paneled walls. That last bit was a nice touch though, saving what was a bland foyer from becoming atrocious with the usual wood paneling that turned the nicest home into nothing more than a hillbilly shack. My personal preference would be voiced quite a bit during my time here; if I had to deal with something then I was going to complain. For instance, the lack of furniture was ironically and eye-sore in such a large room. There weren't even plants present to take up space and give the illusion that the room was full. Back at my dorm I cherished space more than anything but this was a large house, and the less homey it felt the more unsettled I did.

Despite there being no tables to hold the pointless vases I wish were there, there were giant pictures lining the wall: Chris, Leon, Jill, Rebecca, a blond who I didn't know, and a brunette male with olive skin whose picture hung next to one of a slightly darker woman with impossibly black hair. Something was off about her picture but I couldn't put my finger on it. In all portraits they were seated with their hands disappearing from the picture, probably resting in their laps. They were all in uniform, dark, blue tops with AUA stitched in yellow above their breasts, and all of them looked down at me gravely as if they were questioning my fortitude. I'd beaten them to the punch of course, asking myself every minute of every day before this one whether or not I could come to this place and immerse myself into a world that I desperately attempted to claw out of. This work, this life, it was a grave that I'd slipped into suddenly, and it took me too long to notice that the dirt was already being thrown onto me. Oh how I'd struggled to free myself, the nails that had been torn from their beds, the plugs of hair that had been ripped from my scalp, and the panic I'd gotten through while my lungs betrayed the automatic response to breathe.

I was supposed to be out but something always dragged me back in. This time it was Lydia Burnside…

"You're gonna love your room, much bigger than a crappy dorm," Leon said, and to pretend that I had been paying attention the whole time I gave a huge smile that I felt wasn't very convincing, but for some reason people were easily fooled. Leon's ash, brown hair was styled a bit differently since I last saw it, the top layer longer towards the front of his face and parted to the side. I admit that his bangs would take some getting used to but if he liked it then I would as well. Personally I tried not to let my hair cover my face too much these days; internally I felt as though I'd been tainted enough by everything I'd been through and I didn't need the world to see me as dark. I wore slicked-back ponytails a lot more now, messy buns on top of my head, and I often kept a pair of shades on top of my head as a restraint when I wore it down. When those weren't employed I used a pair of reading glasses I bought from Wal-Mart that I didn't need. I just thought that those hair bands were stupid, and I'd rather look important or studious. When I wasn't in the mood for being pestered about what was wrong with me though I simply pulled back a section of hair from the front and let the sides flow free. It looked like I was making some effort with that style, but in all honesty I didn't know how to style my hair at all. Leon's effort gave me hope though that maybe someday I'd figure out how to live again.

"Leon, did you have my-" the blonde woman from the picture came down the stairs yelling, but she stopped at the sight of me.

I heard Chris huff in aggravation over this latest holdup.

Enthusiastically the woman rushed over to me to shake my hand and give an introduction. "I'm Patricia Layfield! You must be Claire."

Speechless at her warm welcome, I just grinned back at her, but the person I truly wanted to see was Jill. If anyone, I expected her to be the one to almost pick me up in excitement. However, I'd accept friendliness from whomever I could get it from right now and try to make a friend or two while I was here. In the field it was important that relationships were built and tested, proven to be strong enough for me to entrust my life to another human being.

I took in the sight of Patricia for a moment though; when I first meet people I tend to have a very hard time picking them out of crowd, and this woman needed to be much more than just another face to me. Patricia possessed a medium set of lips, not full but not thin, however, they were definitely a bit wider than they needed to be. This gave her a somewhat Joker-like smile that was only noticeable because of her deep, red lipstick she felt the need to wear inside. Now that she was in front of me I could see that the blonde was a box color in part thanks to her darker eyebrows, and in the portrait on the wall it was only made to appear a natural hue. In real life it was more of a Sunflower blonde, and she had it parted to the side and pulled back into a straight ponytail that almost fell to the middle of her back. Nothing about her was remarkable though she was an attractive woman, and her nose was perfect. It did not turn up at the end, it was not bulbous, it didn't arch, and it was not jutting out far ahead of the rest of her face. Beneath her workout tee I could tell that standing at 5'8 she had a thin body that was struggling to maintain muscle but it probably was a form that other women would kill to have. Friendly, cute, and a nice body. Those were the attributes I assigned her for now.

To break the awkward silence that only came about because of my lengthy assessment Leon cleared his throat. "Well, Rebecca's on the internet looking for some leads, Jill's in the gym, Saul's asleep, and Kick's… being weird."

"Meditation does not make a person weird. Especially when it's the only thing saving you from being strangled." I didn't know Rebecca was present until I heard her voice. Once the petite woman rounded the corner, I gave a friendly smile, trying not to remember the circumstances under which we had first met. I didn't know her that well but what I did know was that she was one of the sweetest people I'd ever met, but naïve was an understatement in her case. Rebecca was so tiny to me, something that I noticed even more as we pulled each other into a tight embrace.

When we pulled back I took a moment to compliment her hair. Instead of that mousy cut she had before she sported a slightly longer and layered pixie cut. "It's so cute!"

Chris cleared his throat, a sign that he didn't really feel like spending anymore time in that one spot. "Claire's room?" Everyone agreed after seeming to remember that I had been on a plane for hours now. Leon was the first to go up the stairs and I noticed how much more toned he was. His arms were stronger, his shoulders larger, and as I followed him I could see a bit more of an ass than I had before. Bad thoughts about a friend Claire, I said to myself, looking back at Chris as the feeling that he could read my mind swept over me. We took the hallway to the left that lead us to a long hallway, but rather than continue forward we stopped at the first room on the right. I wasn't afforded the time to make myself at home just yet, but it was larger than any room I'd occupied before. There was room for a full sized bed that was in the center of the room pushed against the left wall, and a desk on the other side of the room in front of a window. I had a nightstand, two wooden doors that lead to a closet and even a dresser. I was almost disappointed when we practically tossed my things down and went to the basement. The stairway to the lower level was hidden beside the left side of the staircase in the foyer, and if they didn't show me today I probably never would've figured it out.

This particular room must have gone the entire length and width of the residence, something that made me feel uneasy. It was a space that could echo. The first part of the room was occupied with about a dozen, black desk chairs that were placed around an oversized dry-erase board that was fastened into the cement wall and a pool table was to the right of that. Farther over I saw a doorway that was partially open that revealed what looked like a few sets of stacked washers and dryers. Then there was nothing for about fifty feet. After that there were eight desks, each with desktops on top and to the left of that was a large lab table that stretched out into hexagons on either side with another piece jutting out from another end. This was a nicely sized lab area for Rebecca to tinker with alchemy or whatever she did.

"I'm gonna round up the others, "Chris announced, leaving me with what had become his family over time.

After I smiled awkwardly, I began twiddling my thumbs to remain busy. "So, who does what exactly?" I was definitely not a timid person, but when I signed up for this job I had actually fully convinced myself that this was the way to go. I was downright terrified of what I'd have to face, and I think my brother could sense that about me as I looked at him as straight-faced as I could manage and said that I wanted to help him fight Umbrella. I was only doing this because I wasn't sleeping anyway and Lydia Burnside wouldn't stop calling me.

Patricia spoke up first, and I could sense an uncomfortable amount of confidence- no arrogance in her speech and posture. "Well, even though Chris is squad leader, I'm the actual official from AUA. So… I'm boss," she said happily. Under this harsh, fluorescent lighting I could see that her skin showed signs of attempted tanning, a look that failed in bringing out the color of her green eyes. Maybe I shouldn't have been judging her appearance but something about her had just rubbed me the wrong way and being a woman, now that I had that feeling I would pick out everything I could to justify any feelings of disdain. I'd have to make a mental note to judge after I spoke to her one on one.

In the corner of my eye I saw Rebecca open her mouth to speak, but Patricia still hadn't stopped running hers. "'Becca just does her best jobs: biochemist, nurse, and she's working towards hacking. That sort of thing." Her tone demeaned the younger woman's worth, and I felt a little anger on her behalf despite her being quiet. "Leon's our Government insider. He gets us the perks and we keep him from being taken complete advantage of." For his role she gave enthusiasm that was a little over the top, adding admiration, and I could see clearly that she was not appreciating his job itself. He had connections with the US Government, so who would expect for him to fall behind in technology or tactics? This was like a bad movie where conflict and tension arose in a group because one woman couldn't handle her feelings and be professional.

When she heard the sounds of footsteps coming down the metal staircase, Patricia seemed excited, and it was probably because she would get the opportunity to continue yapping. Jill followed Chris, and then came the olive-skinned man that must have been Saul, and the girl who they referred to as Kick. Only Kick failed to acknowledge me, she simply adjusted her shades and sat next to Rebecca in one of the rolling chairs. Speaking of which, I had been fighting the urge to spin around in mine. Something managed to take my mind off of such a childish joy though, the way that woman adjusted her shades, shades that she wore in a dim basement…

It took a moment for me to realize that Patricia hadn't stopped talking yet. "Jill's our go-to-gal when we need a way in and out, Saul Aimsley here is just a hulk of a man good for brute strength, weapons, and strategizing." Saul was a brute of a man, one that stood at about 6'2 and probably more notches in his bedpost than I could count. He gave me a nod and winked at me, and I was sure that I blushed in return. His black hair was cut pretty short, the texture silky, and I envied it for a moment. His eyes were a light hazel, the hue standing out against his skin tone. God he was hot… His arms were ripped, shoulders strong and large, and I bet he had the much-wanted eight pack that many men desperately worked to obtain.

I saw Patricia attempt to begin another sentence, but a new female voice beat her to the last introduction. "I'm just good for whatever." Kick's voice was nonchalant, and I stared at her for a moment, curious about every aspect of her. Her ethnicity, her real name, her past, and because of a fear instilled in me from the past, her eyes. Her wavy hair flowed to her elbows, and despite the shades I could tell that she was beautiful, another reason that Patricia seemed annoyed with her unauthorized introduction.

Curiosity got the better of me. "What's your real name?"

I noticed a change in the air, everyone's eyes left me, and Kick gave me a half-grin, "Well, we don't know that just yet." Grin still in place, she removed her black shades, revealing a pair of blood, red eyes, the only thing about them normal were the pupils and whites. The only part that mattered though, that actually told a person's story was… different. I didn't even realize that I had gasped at least five seconds ago, and stumbled along an apology.

For some reason, our leader looked vexed, her fingers massaged her temples, and she pursed her lips. Obviously the women were not friends, and she didn't agree with Kick's presence. "Jill, will you help me with the coffee? I'm sure that Claire needs it." Wordlessly, the two left, Jill neglecting to bestow even a look of welcome upon me. Still, nothing could tear my mind away from what I had just witnessed.

Twirling in her chair a bit, Kick, the woman who was a bit shorter than Rebecca stretched her legs and asked, "Curious?"

"I am," Leon mumbled, earning a death glare from the woman.

In an attempt to help me understand the situation better, Chris looked at me, speaking very calmly, and I knew that what I would hear wouldn't be what I wanted to. "We think Kick's an abandoned BOW, Claire. We found her about six months back in an Umbrella lab. Instead of killing us, she helped us; we were the ones that woke her. We know nothing solid about her past, but some of it just comes back to her." After he described the discovery as if he'd found a puppy the only thing I feared now was my prejudice, and if you had been through what I had you'd be leery of anything with a BOW tag attached to it.

"Pretty sure I'm Brazilian and Arab. I speak Portuguese, Arab, Spanish, and Italian fluently. Brazil makes sense if I'm a mutt." she added, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Leon throw a pencil in her direction, and her head snapped to the side quickly, but instead of receiving an eye full of lead the utensil stopped midair. Then it spun around, torpedoing back at Leon, barely missing his head. I had never been so wide-eyed for so long in my life, and my lack of blinking led my eyes to begin to water. I knew of one person who could control things with their mind and she was the reason that Steve…

"Only works with small things. Otherwise she faints." Leon looked over his shoulder for the pencil, but I think he was just too lazy to pick it up.

Undeterred, Kick yawned and went back to her cool and composed position. "Hope the coffee's fine." Leaning in my direction she looked somewhat mischievous, whispering, "Patricia's tying to kill me." With a wink, she sat back. How was I supposed to sit there and have a regular conversation with a woman that floated pencils with her mind? How was I supposed to have a regular conversation with a woman who displayed traits of a woman who tried to kill my brother and me? How could Chris live with someone like that?

In an effort to take my mind off of her odd power I asked, "Why do they call you Kick?" I noticed Leon turning a little red.

In her voice that was as tiny as she was, Rebecca managed to lessen her grin to say, "When we found her, she kicked Leon when she woke up." Their faces told me that a particular part of him suffered, and it was something delicate. Something told me that this time here would be interesting to say the least.

Claire

September 15, 2000

11:24 AM

Last night I managed to sleep soundly, probably due to the fact that I had been on planes and buses, unable to truly get any rest. So because of my grandma bedtime I managed to wake up pretty early, deciding to tag along with Leon, and he tried to tag along with Kick who was cleverly evading him and his college pranks. Obviously, until duty called we were just to stay at HQ, useless. I saw Chris a few times, throwing disapproving glares at us and our immaturity. Other than those few moments he remained downstairs with Rebecca, Patricia, and Jill who had yet to say a single word to me. It was okay; eventually she'd have to speak to me. This didn't mean that I wasn't bothered by her being so antisocial with me when during her STARS days she had begged Chris to allow her to mentor me.

The foiled jokes were piling up, and despite knowing the answer myself I decided to inquire, and if I knew he was doing it he'd stop. "Leon do you have a crush on Kick or something?"

He threw more Hot Tamales at her and she easily dodged them. Answering as though it should have been obvious he almost yelled, "No! It's just fun to screw with her." In the moment that his mouth was open, Kick, fed up with the endless barrage of spicy candies expertly threw one down his throat. As he hacked up the candy she made her escape, taking her sandwich from the kitchen island and heading to the dining room.

Earlier today Leon had showed me around the house and it was impressive to say the least. Outside we had a gazebo, a pool, and an area for basketball. In the kitchen there was enough room for the kitchen island, the preparation table against the wall, a counter with a double sink, a double door fridge that was fully stocked, a stove/oven combo, and a dishwasher. The surfaces were all stone and the floor was a dark gray to match. The door in the corner of the kitchen led to a garage that housed two sedans, two SUVs, eight bicycles, and three bikes. I was itching to hop on the red one but Leon was quick to whisk me away which was probably for the best. There was an office next to the kitchen as well with a green patterned carpet, two armchairs, and a few beanbags in different colors, a foosball table, and a huge bookcase against the wall. The den was next to the kitchen, only holding couch set in the shape of a "U" surrounding a large flat screen set into the wall with two game consoles hooked up to it. The den was the only way to get to the dining room which had a red carpet and a single table that accommodated all of us plus some, and it had a glass-tiled window that gave a blurry view into the foyer.

One of the greatest things about this house though was possibly the gym. There was a door in the foyer on the other side of the stairs that led to it, and when I found out it existed I thought that I'd died and gone to workout, nut heaven. The gym had to have been the length of the foyer plus the dining room. When I first entered I saw that across the room the wall was lined with mirrors. In the middle of the room was a large space set aside for a mat and a rope that hung from the ceiling. Five treadmills were facing the left wall that also had a few mirrors, five, full-body exercise machines lined the back wall, and there were over a dozen more machines. We also had the traditional benches to lift and equipment for squat presses. A door was at the right end of the gym that led to a restroom with sinks, toilet stalls, and a dozen showers. Lastly there was the actual office, a room with a large table under a projector. We had a printer, a copier, and a fax machine as well as our own teaming cubicles meant for two. There we had our own desktops and phones that were designated for official AUA business and reports. Needless to say my pod was empty, but everyone else had a few papers scattered with Patricia boasting the most.

Upstairs we had only two bathrooms for our use, one for occupants of one side and one for the other. Patricia's room was said to be much larger and she had her own bathroom to herself. There was also an empty room that was much larger than her own that was filled with cots. When I asked Chris about the excess amount of beds, computers, and showers he told me that AUA was always prepared for an emergency in which another group would have to stay with us. I then understood the logic behind such a large place; had it been practical toes would have been stepped on and infighting would have occurred. Still, a place this big felt too large for me and I couldn't imagine being there alone for even the shortest amount of time, but I was supposed to be a big girl, a badass. That meant that I couldn't keep questioning myself, but I knew that I would.

Kick

September 15, 2000

11:41 AM

It seemed like I was always avoiding anything that could be deemed fun, giving the illusion that I was some icy-hearted cunt, but in reality I just preferred being left to myself. Chris' little sister was here now to provide Leon with some distraction, Chris and Jill weren't doing so well which led to them holing themselves up in their respective rooms until they argued again, Rebecca was always preoccupied with either work or hunting down Coen, Saul attempted to reach out to me but I grew bored of kicking his ass in the gym (someone we managed to stay close despite all of his bruises), and Patricia… Now there was a true cunt, someone who desperately wanted to be seen and heard as some form of pack master. I'm sure AUA knew that she was nothing more than a joke to everyone here, that daft chaperone at prom that had no clue that there was Everclear in the punch and Valiums stuffed in the Sweeties packets. People here wanted to play as this was merely a pit stop on the way to their true destinies.

Good ol' Becca: on her way to a title.

Leon: delaying becoming a complete government bitch.

Chris and Jill: attempting to put together their own team and organization.

Saul: Bulking up his résumé to receive permission to blow even bigger shit up.

Now I wasn't too sure why exactly Claire was here. Perhaps sentimentality drove her to wanting to be near her brother, -not like I knew that feeling- but there was a chance that after her experiences she just couldn't live any other way. When you fight a few zombies, you don't exactly settle down as the housewife of an NFL player and raise oodles of babies. My assumptions were just that though, as I had no past experiences of my own to base them on; all I'd known since waking up was fighting reanimated corpses, floating pencils, and the ultimate sign of a woman needing a life: meditation. I knew I wasn't human; I was born that way I was sure… or was I? What if I was just some "freak" Hunter that ended up looking more human than lizard? Nah, I had a better chance of just being an alien, now that sounded fucking awesome. As I neared my door I cursed under my breath. Leon was once again ruining my thoughts –no matter how useless and silly- by posting up outside of my room.

I stopped before him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Shouldn't you be bothering Claire?" That stupid grin appeared on his face once he got the slightest rise out of me. Leon wasn't dumb though, I mean he wasn't a genius or anything, but he wasn't as much as a frat boy as he acted. Truth was the guy turned into melting Jello in front of women and his tactics usually left him looking like one of those slightly overweight, pimple-faced mouth breathers from teen shows. Sad how that's where most of my knowledge came from when it came to breaking down a person's behavior, but I needed to get it from somewhere.

Crossing his arms in a possible attempt to mock me, he leaned forward, "I gave her a break."

"Aw Leon, your benevolence is showing." During our back-and-forths I chose not to smile at him in any way. If there was a crack in my façade he would take it for however much he could milk it, and nothing annoyed me more than when he thought he won. The feelings I had for Leon weren't any that stemmed from hate, he just never would get the hint that I wanted to be left alone. I didn't even hang with the girls, and Chris and Saul were probably my only true friends here, the previous which occurred initially by default.

"Well since you're always sharing I figured why not."

There was no point in me pulling up my shirt as he would only lie and say he meant something else, but then again was he really going to say my "bitch" was showing as a retort? "Okay Kennedy let me in my room." Like he was a dog, I threw my hand to the side and pointed down the hallway.

"You spend too much time alone, it's creepy."

Feigning confusion, I scratched the top of my head, tousling my hair in the process. "So I should start reading my books in a tank and my underwear in the day room for all to see?" Mr. Suave would not reply to that, not when he would risk sounding like the biggest sleaze in this house. "Rápido!" I ordered, clapping my hands at him.

As he lunged forward, I fought the urge to throw him through my door, allowing him to pin me to the wall behind us. "Kick, you know I mess with you right?"

My demeanor wouldn't crack as I was utterly pissed off that he would presume that it was acceptable to be this close to my face without my consent. "And you know you're messing with a loaded gun right now right?"

"Would it kill you to be civil with me?" His tone was serious, but that wouldn't make me change my mind.

"Leon, you bother me, 24/7. Right now, you are obstructing my path to my pastime and my bedroom."

"I just don't want you to feel like you're not included in anything." His tone bordered on pathetic as he tried to get me to "come out of my shell." I preferred not to be vulnerable in front of him when he insisted on acting like a jackass and choosing me as the subject for his pranks.

"I don't feel anything about that," I countered.

His body was closer to mine now as he stepped forward, staring down into my eyes. So now I was left to either endure his Koombaya shit, or I would have to hurt him. Decisions, decisions.

Claire

September 15, 2000

11:53 AM

I had no idea where the hell Leon decided to go; one second he was with me and the next I was having an entire conversation alone, something that had to be pointed out by Saul. Looks like I was doing a fine job in setting myself up as Chris' freak sister. Rounding the corner, I thought I heard whispering, something that peaked a Redfield's interest so easily. Instead of finding my colleagues in a heated debate about tactics though, I instead saw Leon, pinning Kick to the wall.

The look on her face could've been annoyance; however, I couldn't be too sure about that as his arm blocked some of her face. Leon was whispering something to her, whatever it was, was serious enough to make him wipe his smile from earlier from his face. She said something back quickly. Then I saw him step forward, leaving her with barely an inch of personal space, and he looked like he was about to get himself into some serious trouble. His body language told me that he was feeling something other than brotherly love for her, but she didn't seem to be reciprocating whatever he felt. How could I know though when she was so guarded?

Before the situation escalated I starting walking forward briskly, "What's happening here?"

Leon's head snapped in my direction, giving me a look that was meant to throw daggers in my direction, and I wondered if they had been having an important discussion that I just wasn't able to see.

However, as Kick took advantage of his arm dropping from the wall, freeing her, she mouthed to me, "Thank you," before darting to the door on the other side of the hall.

Once Leon realized that she was opening the door, his face went from pissed to disappointed. She locked the door behind her, solidifying her retirement for the day, and Leon trudged over to me. Don't cuss me out, I chanted to myself.

"What's up?" he asked casually, almost as if I hadn't totally cock-blocked him, but then again it didn't seem like he needed my help there.

For a moment I feared he could see my thoughts in my expressions, and oh they were quite harsh. So innocently I replied with, "Nothing, I was just checking on you. You and Kick seemed to be talking about something important."

He began to walk down the hallway, his pace slow enough to let me know that I was invited to follow. "No." Feigning a laid back manner was not going the way he had hoped, and right now both of us were showing just how horrible of actors we could be. It was almost like a dance we were doing, trying to see who would slip up first, and with my mouth I knew it would more than likely be me. Blunt was for champions.

"Well it looked like it."

In no way was I insinuating anything with my declaration, but I heard him chortle. He may have wanted me to think that he was dismissing my observations as nothing more than some fantastical idea of a bored woman, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows told me that there was some truth to my suspicions that I didn't even have to blatantly verbalize. "It's fine."

Okay, it was champion time. Once we reached the stairs I stopped, and something about my attitude must have signaled to him that he needed to stop too. "Leon, you like her don't you?"

"Not like that," he sighed. He must have been catching on that I wasn't buying his act before, and so now he was forced to amp up his "poor me" face.

"Well a brother and sister don't have conversations that close to each other."

"Claire, I told you: our relationship does not extend beyond that of colleagues, and brother/sister." His words were so rehearsed that they didn't sound believable and I wondered who had questioned him about their relationship in the past.

Sincerely I said, "But she's not your sister Leon. If you like her you can tell me." After all such an admission to me would seem small in comparison to what we had been through together. It just showed how not-so-smooth he could be despite the attitude he exuded. Strangers saw Leon as a man who could party with the best of them and had no cares to give, but I saw him truly. Honestly, the true Leon was so awkward and shy with women that it was downright adorable and I didn't see how Kick could shut him down so easily.

"Claire-"

"I won't judge you for it. I would just ask for you to be careful. You know her way better than me but I'd want you to watch your back. She's beautiful Leon. And I'm sure under her shell that she's a nice person." Maybe I was laying it on pretty thick in my effort to convince him to dish, but I didn't think it'd do much harm.

With a tone that bordered on warning he hissed, "Claire, it's nothing. And if you're thinking about playing Cupid then don't bother."

Being the Redfield that I was though I ignored his tone. "Did she say under no certain terms?"

"Oh my God!" Throwing his hands in the air, he began trudging down the stairs, leaving me to giggle about how I'd managed to aggravate him so much. Of course I'd only allow myself to do this maybe a few times a month, otherwise it'd get pretty old, but how I enjoyed poking at him about this. However, now that everyone else was preoccupied with other things, it was the perfect time for me to take care of a few things in private. It would be easier with less questions being asked.

Claire

September 15, 2000

5:26 PM

My desk was empty and though I would appreciate this later I felt a bit useless as of now. I was useless though; this was only day two and I hadn't even started signing on all the dotted lines yet. This did give me a chance to do what I set out to do though. I did want to help the cause and fight bioterrorism, but I would be a liar to say that I didn't have my own agenda. I had been granted access to the database of information on the wanted criminals and that's about it, but that was all I needed right now. Worried that the light from my monitor would attract my cohabitants I kept checking the office door to make sure that no one opened it and caught me, although it wouldn't be hard to lie about what I was doing. I scrolled down the page, following the links I guessed were the correct ones. DatabaseWantedInformation. I clicked the search box and typed in, "Wesker, Albert." The computer took no time in pulling up a single profile that I didn't hesitate to click.

Wesker, Albert

DOB: 1960

Place of Birth: Manhattan, New York, USA (Disputed).

Height: 6'3

Weight: 198?

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Status: Alive

Occupation: Scientist; STARS Captain; Bioterrorist.

Species: ?; Formally human.

Location: Unknown

Damn it. This of course signaled the end of my little quest for information on him, and though I didn't expect to get my hands on anything too helpful I did anticipate that he would have a more extensive profile available. Where did he attend college, med-school? Who raised him? Why did he end up running to Umbrella? This profile merely stated the obvious and if I was being honest, the obvious may have all been a lie as well. It was also important for me to note that his "Place of Birth" was "Disputed." Why was something that should've been so simple to find out disputed? I wouldn't have access to Government censuses until I was fully cleared as a member here and I wasn't sure how long that would take.

Just as I was about to bang my fists on the desk in frustration I heard someone pulling out a chair. My head snapped to the direction which the sound came from, and I felt my body become hot when I saw Kick turning on her computer in the innermost pod of the last teaming cubicle in the corner against the left wall.

Noticing that I'd spotted her she said asked, "What are you up to Chris Jr.?" As she tapped away at buttons on her keyboard –probably memorized macros- I noticed that she wasn't wearing her shades. More than likely the shades had been worn just until I'd been filled in on her curious condition because she didn't seem too concerned with wearing them now.

"Just emailing some friends," I lied easily. For a moment there was an awkward silence, but perhaps it wasn't and I was looking too much into that one moment. Maybe she wasn't a talkative person. A box suddenly popped up on my computer, then another. White font appeared on the black background and a stream of words appeared. Suddenly my page was shut down, leaving me at the home screen.

"Yeah you won't find anything in our database that's useful. You'd have to get in the Umbrella Archives for that and find his file including his personal ones. And since STARS was founded and funded by Umbrella any files salvaged belong to them as well." This was an admission to hacking my computer, something that should have pissed me off but the gears in my mind began to turn.

"Can you do that?"

"If I do there's a limited amount of time to look because they have firewalls encompassed in firewalls with Trojans waiting to piggyback you and steal all the information you have, therefore learning your location. I'm still learning so I wouldn't do that for you. Give me a few weeks or months and then we'll see. Umbrella's losing money and so they're losing employees which means eventually their security measures will be shit that Helen Keller can crack." She paused, taking this time to look up at me. Something about her gaze was unsettling and it wasn't because of the hue of her eyes, but because I felt that she wasn't trusting of me. After catching me sneaking around the database though, I couldn't blame her. "But I warn you, the deeper you delve into Albert Wesker, the more you become like… Chris." As she stood up from her desk and left the office I stared after her, speechless.

I wasn't sure what Chris had done during his time here or how he had gone about it but it had obviously impacted his colleagues. I wouldn't judge him until I saw it firsthand though. With that decision came a frightening thought: what if I had become worse than Chris?

Then maybe I'll be the one to actually find Wesker.

Yeah, maybe. And I wasn't stopping until I did.

A/N: Leon's hair color is a mystery. To me it's ash brown and it's staying that way. Anyway, this was another situation where I had to cut the chapter short because I had more to add. I went and actually designed the whole house on this sight to get a picture of it in my head. Of course there'll be more on the house next chapter. Claire's getting settled in. I don't think I did enough Claire this chapter either but I don't want her to get too creepy too fast. I'm also trying to figure out exactly how creepy to make her; I don't want to go too far. If there are mistakes I apologize; the love is over so I'm just posting it quickly!