Best Laid Plans II - An Inferior Moon
by Ticklefish
"This is insane.." muttered Chris.
"Oh quit complaining," said the woman sitting opposite him, "you asked for it."
Chris Redfield frowned. He was expecting more sympathy. He picked up a small piece of paper, closely examined it and put it back down again. He had done this a few times before, each time hoping that the figures scrawled on it made more sense.
"It's like they think we're tourists so they can charge us whatever they like." he grumbled, waving in a vexed manner at the check.
His companion raised her glass to her lips.
"We are tourists." she replied before taking a leisurely sip.
"No, we're not."
"No, but we're pretending to be. Just relax."
With a snort, Chris threw down the check, having again picked it up and lent back in his chair. Behind her sunglasses, his companion watched his closely. Secretly Jill Valentine was very amused. They were undercover in Austria following a vague trail that may or may not be a complete waste of time. The Hermit Club, a nondescript organization, had recently proved to have connections to Umbrella. What those connections were, Chris and Jill had come to find out. They had yet to uncover anything of any substance and Chris was getting more and more frustrated.
But Jill knew that wasn't why he was so grumpy today.
They had first come across the Hermit Club when Chris and his then-partner had been attacked by zombies. Chris didn't like zombies and was very unhappy that they were still around, having gone to so much effort to destroy them previously.
But Jill knew that wasn't why he was so grumpy today.
The trail had lead to a building on the outskirts of Vienna and, for the past few days, the two had been watching it for anything suspicious. So far, no-one had entered the building, no-one had left. Nothing of any interest had happened at all. Chris, ever a man of action, kept having to restrain himself from running across from the pavement cafe they were sitting at and breaking in.
But Jill knew that wasn't why he was so grumpy today.
A light breeze swept along the cobbles. As it passed the table, it lifted Jill's skirt. Not by much, but enough to give Chris a fleeting glimpse between her legs. Jill had decided not to wear any underwear today. She brought her drink to her lips and hid her smile behind the glass.
Jill knew why Chris was so grumpy today.
An ordinary door. Paneled, off-white, silver handle, brass hinges, spyhole, chain, locks, all the usual paraphernalia that a door should have.
There was a thump on the other side. Then a scrabbling sound. A muffled, possibly rude word. A second, deeper thump. A jingling. A creak and Claire Redfield stepped through.
She stopped in the doorway, turned back and, with a look of distaste, picked up a large pile of papers from where she had dropped them on the floor a few seconds previously. Letting the door close behind her, she dumped the pile onto a table and let out a long, weary sigh. She kicked off her shoes and let her jacket fall gracelessly on top of them. She reached up to undo her ponytail and, as her hair fell down amongst her shoulders, reflected that she never had all this fuss at Terra Save.
Three weeks ago, it had all seemed so simple, so straight-forward. Claire, her partner Jill, her brother Chris and Chris's partner Sheva were readying to fly to Austria to find out what the Hermit Club was up to and stop it.
Then had come Sheva's fall from grace.
Desperate to avoid any scandal, the West African division of the BSAA had suspended her and had handed over her investigation to other agents. The North American division, no doubt prompted by BSAA West Africa, had demanded that Chris, Jill and Claire return to them.
Jill had not been best pleased. She and Chris carried enough clout in the organization to be able to get some immediate leave and were, as far as their superiors knew, taking a well-earned break in town.
Claire may have been Chris's brother but, despite her history, she hadn't built up as good a reputation as the so-called Hero Of Kijuju. After a lot of arguing, BSAA NA had agreed to let her stay in Africa for a while. But she had to go through all manner of training and form-filling and inductions and presentations and this and that and the other. Everyday was spent in one office or another and they were starting to blend into each other. Claire's feet ached and her brain ached in sympathy.
In the flat's small kitchen, Claire rummaged through the fridge and, after only a second's hesitation, decided to pinch one of Chris's beers. Holding the bottle by the neck, she considered washing up a glass but decided to give it a miss. She was normally very house-proud but with work throwing everything at her over the last few days, she found it hard to get the motivation.
Not my stupid apartment anyway, she thought, trudged back into the lounge and collapsed on the sofa.
The pile of paperwork on the table loomed ominously. On an impulse, Claire extended a leg and kicked it off. The papers tumbled to the floor, forming a heap that was still big but was somehow less intimidating. With a grunt of satisfaction, Claire stretched out on the sofa, had a mouthful of beer and started to sulk in earnest.
"Ten."
"Eleven."
"Really?" Chris was incredulous, "who was the eleventh one?"
"The Midtown Stabbings."
Chris waved a finger at Jill.
"That doesn't count. That was solved by Uniform."
"I helped out. They wouldn't have linked him to that golf club without me."
"Are you in the record?"
"No, but.."
"Then it doesn't count."
Chris leaned back in his chair and grinned. Jill shrugged and, before Chris could react, threw a slice of carrot at him. They had been at the cafe for about two hours now and had had to order some food to allay suspicion. Combined with the fabulous weather, it had served to relax the two and they had fallen to discussing old times.
Across the street, the building still stood just as quiet and just as dull as before.
Sooner or later, Jill thought, they would have to step up their investigation and see about making their own way inside. But for now, Jill was enjoying being with Chris too much. They were officially on vacation after all. In a different country admittedly, but still.. Jill was with the man she loved, and who loved her back. For the time being, she could almost imagine she was actually was on vacation with him.
The Hermit Club could just wait for a little while longer. She picked up a second carrot slice and took careful aim.
She was having a fabulous time.
Claire was not having a fabulous time.
She was onto her third bottle of beer and her mood was getting dark.
Her third bottle of beer...huh...Chris's bottle of beer, more like.
The apartment was one of a handful the BSAA kept for visitors from other branches. As a junior agent, Claire didn't qualify for one and had ended up staying with Chris. She was grateful for his generosity but she had lived with him enough when they were children. Now she was older, things were a bit more awkward and they found themselves fighting to avoid resorting to old behaviors. It was only the other day that Claire had to almost physically restrain herself from turning the hot water on in the kitchen when Chris was in the shower.
She giggled, remembering his cry of outraged annoyance. As she did so, the drink she had in her mouth went down the wrong way. She quickly sat up, coughing, her eyes tearing and, as she did so, a collection of small change fell from her skirt pocket into the back of the sofa.
"Oh, great.." she muttered once she got her breath back.
Reaching down behind the cushion, she grimaced as her fingers encountered one coin, a pen, a second coin, an anonymous piece of plastic that appeared to have no use whatsoever, a third coin and something lacy.
Claire sat back and examined her find. It was mostly black with bits of red, it was fairly thin and there wasn't much of it. Her mind fogged with alcohol, it took Claire a few moments to work out exactly what the item was. Suddenly it clicked into place and she hurled it from her.
It fell to the floor a few feet away. Claire could feel it glaring at her. She should have realized earlier. Jill had been spending a lot of time there recently.
Neither she nor Chris knew that Claire knew they were now an item and Claire had had to find all manner of reasons not to be in the apartment when Jill was. She was happy for her brother, very happy in fact, but the wall between the two bedrooms were thin and..well.. She was almost glad that she had to spend so much time at the office.
It slowly dawned to Claire that if Jill's underwear..her mind was startled at thinking those two particular words together..if her underwear..she couldn't bring herself to think the words 'panties' or 'lingerie'..if her underwear was in the depths of the sofa that meant she had had to take it off. On the sofa. Which meant she and Chris were most likely..
On the sofa Claire was now lying on..
Moving as carefully as she could, trying not to touch more than she had to, Claire quickly got up. Once upright, she swayed a little and held onto the door frame to support herself.
It was just so unfair! Why didn't she have someone? Why didn't she have her own sofa and her own person to make love to on it?
She walked slowly into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Reaching in for the last of the beer (Chris's bloody beer!) she ran through her head all the people she had almost been with. The usual high-school crushes, complete with the usual high-school heartbreaks. Then there was Leon.
Leon Kennedy and Claire had run into each other in Raccoon City and had made a narrow escape from all kinds of nasty things. Once he had realized that the situation was more than his usual police training had allowed for, he had opened up a bit more and they had gotten on well. Claire sighed. After Raccoon, Leon had gone his own way and they had only spoken in passing. She had pretty much given up on him.
Then there was Steve. Claire couldn't find the bottle opener and could feel the tears forming in her eyes from sheer frustration. No, not frustration. Steve was a lovely boy. Kind, charming, a little naive and not exactly unattractive. Claire had really started to warm to him. And then he'd died. No, he had been murdered. And there was nothing she could have done to save him. Claire wiped a tear from her eye, her drink forgotten. Steve didn't deserve to die but he had just the same. She had been left alone. Again.
And then she ran into Leon again. Agent Leon, now, working for the President of all things. They had spent a few precious moments together stopping another zombie incident..and then he was gone again. Oh, she had smiled at the time. She had let him go and get on with his work. But inside..inside she had hurt so badly..
Claire became aware that her foot was wet. Her floodgates had opened and she had been crying tears that had been pent up for ages. Forcefully bringing her mind back to the here and now, she grabbed a tissue and wiped her face.
She looked at her still unopened drink, then through the archway at the pile of paperwork that needed going through and the sofa she knew she could never sit on again.
Hell with it, she thought, I'm going to bed.