Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. They're just my toys. I originally had a slightly different version of this fic, the story was the same but the flow was a bit different. Honestly I'm still not sure which one works best, so if you come back and it changes you know why.

As previously noted in the Welcome Home flash fic I posted I've run into A LOT of fantastic Resident Evil artwork out there. My fav artist right this second is talaybaa. This fic was inspired by two of her works, the first one bearing the same title and the other one called Weekends. Go look them up. They are awesome. talaybaa. deviantart gallery/ 34880271#/ d4s0pgq And talaybaa. deviantart gallery/ 34880271#/ d4rxovf

That Night

"Do you remember?" His voice was soft in her ear, breath hot against her skin. "That night?"

He felt her smile against his neck. This was good. This was progress. Normally the first thing she thought of without specifics were things she didn't want to relive. Things that had slowly come out in the last year and a half and other things she might never speak of.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you wanted to look at it, Wesker had left detailed journals about what he'd done to her. Both to experiment with her and to torture her. To make Chris pay. He knew part of what happened to her was his fault. Both for not being able to stop it from happening and because their former Captain hated him so much. There was no doubt his treatment of Jill reflected that. Every depraved thing he had her do, or did to her, was at least partly to inflict damage against Redfield.

Chris would happily rip his throat out if he could. He wasn't sure if he'd ever tell her he had those journals. Right now he figured when she was at peace with it, when she had let go of all of the trauma she had sustained, he would give them to her and they could burn them together. Maybe dance around the fire if only out of spite.

"Tell me what you remember," he asked, one hand skimmed down her arm but he refrained from anything else.

She smiled against his neck again and it made his heart pound in his chest. He wanted nothing more in his life right now than to wake up to that smile every morning.

It had been almost a year and a half since he'd found her. Longer since he'd known, not that he'd ever really doubted, she was alive. Since he'd gotten something he could consider proof. It had taken a while to find her, and when he did his Jill was almost gone. Almost completely lost to him.

Her hand slid down his chest fingers stopping long enough to trace circles around his nipples. "I remember sitting on the couch with you. Watching that horrible movie." Chuckling, he let her memory of That Night take hold. "It ended and I told you how bad it sucked. You tried to argue with me."

Fingers were whisper soft as they trailed down the line his well defined abs gave her. Strong work outs were part of the regimen here. And she didn't mind. She always enjoyed a good work out. He gave her a routine, something to focus on besides the years she spent at Wesker's mercy.

The first six or eight months she'd been in the hospital, recovering physically from the effects of the things Wesker had done to her. The T-Virus she carried for all those years had undergone changes and her body had responded. Wesker had used those responses to test other things. Uroboros had no real hope in her body, and who knew what other viruses he had thrown in there, but the P30 unfortunately did. And because it had to be given almost continuously in order for him to control her, her body had developed a dependance on it. It had taken months for her body to kick the addiction to it. Chris had stayed by her side the entire time, unwilling to let her go through it alone. Unwilling to let anyone near her during those times the P30 had to be given, even in small doses, so she would know that no one would ever control her again. Those were the times when her trust in him was tested the most. When she knew he could control her like Wesker had.

"I think you called it... artistic." She laughed, the sound like faerie bells to his ears. "I called it crap."

Demons hunted and haunted her. Every step she made forward was often hindered by them. Waking up, drenched in sweat, from the nightmares. Jill rarely shared what those were, but he had a pretty good idea. Sometimes he felt like they shared them.

"You did," he agreed. He'd actually agreed then, he'd just argued with her to get a rise from her. To watch the color flood her cheeks as she dug in for a good argument. "I told you that you just weren't sophisticated enough to appreciate it."

"And I threw a pillow at you." Her lips pressed against the side of his neck, her fingers sliding ever lower. He willed his body not to respond, but of course it didn't listen. Chris thought he heard a murmur of appreciation.

After much debate, she had left the scars on her chest alone. For a while she entertained the idea of plastic surgery to get rid of them, but he always knew she wouldn't. She wasn't vain enough for it, and in the end, she wore them as scars earned. Of proof that the monster hadn't won. They'd faded significantly, but sometimes she became self conscious about them. On those days, he pointedly ignored they existed. It wasn't hard because they didn't matter to him.

Finally, once she was physically healed, Chris had moved her here. To his shack on the beach. The one he'd bought when they were fresh into S.T.A.R.S. and he'd had to live on peanut butter sandwiches for months to buy it. It wasn't much more than a large room with a loft space over it. Hell, it hadn't even had plumbing when he'd first purchased it, but he'd taken the time and made it cozy. Ever so slowly he had bought up the land around it until he owned several acres. He and Jill had spent many weekends here, working on the place, hanging out, watching movies, being together. All leading up to That Night.

"Who knew you were so ticklish?" he teased. His breath caught in his throat as a finger dipped below the waist band of his boxers.

"You knew," she accused him. "You knew I was ticklish and you used it against me." Fingers came dangerously close and she nipped an ear as she shifted up onto an elbow to look him in the eyes.

Slowly, sometimes at a snail's pace, he tore down all the walls she'd built to protect herself. Sometimes he had to put pieces back up until she was ready for that particular brick to fall. She could only handle so much at once and there were times she needed to shut down, lock herself away until she could deal again. Never once did he lose patience. Never once did he lose his temper. Never once did he want something more from her except for her to be Jill again.

Her blue-grey eyes met his brown ones and they sparkled. His heart felt tight in his chest and he swore he would absolutely not cry. Would not allow himself to stall her. "If I remember correctly when you got away you proceeded to beat me with the same pillow."

The last few weeks had given him hope she was almost there.

"I should have beaten you with something that would hurt!" There was no malice in her words. A small smile on her face at the memory.

Never in a million years would he ever fess up to the fact she'd left him hurting on a number of occasions for a number of reasons. Usually he was so hard he couldn't move when he sent her up to the bed while he prepared himself for a night on the couch. Eventually they slept in the same bed and he always had to be careful not to let his feelings show. He never wanted to risk what they had for something that might end. For losing her in the end. He'd rather not have her than risk her ever being gone. But that was then.

He'd spent every night with her, holding her as close as he dared so that she felt safe again. She always clung tightly, not happy until she was secure in his arms, sometimes held so tightly she had to have trouble taking a deep breath. In the hospital, they had originally tried to keep him from sleeping in the same bed with her, then they realized it was the only time she slept without the use of more drugs. Months ago she had required being able to touch his skin constantly. To feel his skin against hers. The way they often used to sleep here before That Night. Then, a few short weeks ago, her body had responded to his and she took that first step. Her hand trailing down his chest while he held his breath for fear of scaring her. The smile she'd given him was all Jill. It wasn't haunted, wasn't frightened.

It was Jill.

Letting her make every move, have complete control, almost killed him. He didn't want to think of the years they'd spent apart, of the years he hadn't been able to touch her. Didn't want to consider the years where he could touch her but worried about doing more damage, of breaking her spirit that final time and she wouldn't come back to him.

He let her have complete control. No matter how badly he wanted her, wanted to touch her, kiss her, taste her, he held back. Only following her lead, never pressing anything. Jill would let him know when she was ready.

He reached up and stroked the side of her face with his thumb. "Then what?" he asked, his voice a rough whisper.

"Then you did that." Her voice matched his, her eyes searching his face. "Then you did this..." Hesitantly, she brought her lips to his, brushing them together. Biting back a moan as her oh so soft lips met his he clutched at the sheets with his free hand. The other one cupped her face gently, not holding her in place, but needing to touch her. Feel her skin.

That teasing finger finally found the head of his dick and circled it. He couldn't hold back the groan from low in his throat. She kissed it from his mouth and added one of her own. Her finger slid down the length of him, then she wrapped her hand around him fully. When she pulled her mouth from his, he had to stop the protest that surged inside of him. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I was very happy you only had on a pair of beat up cargo shorts on then." Something wicked lit up her eyes as she continued to caress him.

Leaning over, she placed a soft kiss against his chest, over his heart. "I could hear your heart beating, pounding."

He held himself in check but wanted to both scream in frustration and cry with joy. "For you."

"I know." Her smile was blinding before she kissed him again. This time it was something more, fierce, possessive. "Then I kissed you here," she told him just before she pressed her lips against the pulse at his throat.

The hand that had touched her face was moving of its own accord, across her shoulder and down her arm. Her hand slid out from beneath his boxers and he almost panicked. Before he could ask, she pulled him over her. "You said something I couldn't understand, then you rolled me over." She had the grace not to mention they'd fallen off the couch at that point. "Then you landed on me as we slid off the couch and fell to the floor. It didn't have carpet." Or not.

He couldn't help but smile down at her. "Sorry about that." Dipping his head, he kissed her neck, her collar bone, nipped at an ear. She shivered against him at the touch. A leg wound its way up to his waist and a toe hooked itself into his boxers and removed him in a way that would have intrigued him if he hadn't been so intent on what was happening. If he hadn't been so focused. Hands wound up into his hair and pulled him back slightly.

"What did you say?"

There was no doubt what she was asking. So he didn't bother trying to play games. "I said I felt like I'd been waiting forever to touch you."

Tears welled in her eyes but he knew they weren't bad tears. He kissed them away and when she opened her eyes again she laughed. "I'd been waiting forever for you to touch me."

Unable to stop himself, he took her mouth with his, letting their tongues mix, twisting round each other. Hands roamed his back, every so often digging into the skin and muscle there. She bit his neck gently when he pulled his mouth from hers, using it to taste every inch of her he could reach from his current position.

"Then what?" The question came from the top of her breast.

Her answer was breathless, hands roaming down to his ass only to slide back up his sides. "Then you were touching me, kissing me all over."

Hands cupped her breasts as he pulled himself up slightly. "Here?"

She nodded and he kissed each nipple, watching them each peak for him. Thumbs continued to play with them as he slid down sightly. "Here?" His mouth was at the bottom of her breastbone, taking a moment to kiss the underside of each breast before returning to the middle. Hands tightened in his hair as a response.

Sliding even lower he kissed her belly, his tongue darting into her belly button until she bucked under him. "There," she breathed before he could ask.

Her hands slid from his hair, moving to grasp the sheets under her as his roamed to her hips. Kissing a deliberately slow path lower, he stopped just before reaching his ultimate goal. "Then what?" he asked, his lips never leaving her skin.

"Chris," she cried out, frustration getting the better of her.

"This." His mouth moved to her center forcing her hips to buck up. He went with her, tasting her for the first time in years. Remembering the sweetness like it was yesterday. His name was ripped from her throat again as her nails dug deep into the linens. Whimpers came from her and he flicked his eyes to her face worried he might not see what he wanted.

Her face only reflected her passion back at him and he stayed with her no matter how she moved. Her back arched, his name coming from her lips in gasps. He felt it a second before he tasted it and made sure her orgasm didn't disappoint.

Fingers, tongue and mouth played her until she had nothing left. Until the muscle tremors were mere shadows of where they started and the lazy, satisfied smile reached to her eyes. Reaching for him, her hand met his shoulder as he rose up to meet her. Their lips met, tongues dueling together. She clung to him desperately, not willing to to let him go. Not willing to let him ever leave her side again. Teeth held on to his lip as he began to pull away. His hands roamed her sides freely but missed the places she wanted them to be the most.

"Then what?" His whisper was hoarse and she knew him well enough to know what kind of control he was holding over himself. She knew why he held back, why he didn't move without her telling him. And she loved him that much more for it.

Pushing him up to a sitting position, she hovered a moment, pressing her mouth against his. She was breathless as she continued her recollections.

"Your heart was still pounding. I could feel it against my lips." Soft lips pressed to the pulse point on his neck. "Your scent, it was everywhere and I was thinking I wanted it all over me." Lips moved to his collarbone. Her eyes flicked up to his as she straddled him, positioning herself. Holding herself above him, she searched for something in his face. "I was thinking that I could never love anyone as much as you Chris. That nothing could ever change that."

Lingering only a few heart beats as she looked into his eyes, she dropped her mouth to his and came down. He felt himself slide inside of her. She took him at what seemed like an agonizing pace but he knew it was likely much more quickly than his brain, or body, could process. Mouths were fused, never parting until she was completely settled with him deep inside of her.

Rough hands were gentle against her back, pulling her close until her breasts pressed against his bare chest. Another tremor ran through her. She broke away and nuzzled against his neck. "I knew I could die then and it would be ok," came the murmured words against his skin. The feel of her breath had made his neck hypersensitive and he felt himself grow even harder inside of her.

Moving from her back up into her hair, he pulled her head back. "I was thinking I had wasted too much time. Thinking I should have taken the risk, told you how I felt."

She laughed, and his heart skipped a beat. "I have always known how you felt." Her tongue trailed along his jaw line. "I should have said something. I knew you'd never cross the line." Grinning she met his eyes again. "You're too much of a soldier."

His didn't answer. Instead he kissed her deeply, laying claim to her mouth like he'd been scared to do before. There was no time for regrets now. They had lost enough time.

Slowly she began to move, her rhythm small enough she could keep her mouth against his, keep him pressed close to her. His hands roamed her body freely, skimming her skin, down her sides, across her back, brushing nipples. Never stopping. She picked up speed and broke away from his mouth. Her head dropped back and he used the space to suck one of the pink peaks into his mouth. Her hands tightened in his hair and she let out a soft sound that was part sigh, part moan. Chris thought it might be the best sound he'd ever heard.

"Chris?"

He nuzzled her neck. "Anything." She could have asked him to carve out his own heart with a spoon right now and he'd have done it without hesitation.

"Now."

Once again he knew what she was asking, hell demanding, and he was more than happy to oblige. Wrapping his arms around her, he laid them back until she was under him. She kissed him quickly and wound her legs around his waist.

Driving into her, he forgot, for a moment, why he'd been do gentle to begin with. She didn't seem to mind, hips thrusting up to meet him, her breathy sounds in his ear. She moaned his name and he buried his face against her neck.

When it hit, it rocked him to the core. He felt himself explode and if she hadn't been wrapped around him, he might have thought it was a dream, that he'd finally died. But her warm, soft body had him firmly grounded in reality and he thought they both deserved more of this reality. They'd had enough of the other one.

Gathering up in his arms he rolled them over until she was sprawled across him. She didn't seem to be in a big hurry to move.

Brushing hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead. As great as it had been, that hadn't been the reason he'd started the conversation. One arm still held her close, the other absently moving over her skin. Lifetimes wouldn't lend him enough time to get his fill of it.

"Do you remember anything else?"

She was still and for a moment he thought she'd fallen asleep. Finally she came up to an elbow. Her voice broke and she seemed to hesitate.

"We agreed we'd never be apart again. Nothing would come between us."

That Night they'd admitted their feelings. Agreed that nothing should ever separate them again, even if it meant retirement from the BSAA. That what was happening between them was of the utmost importance.

"But we'd already agreed to the mission. To find Spencer."

Tears slowly welled in her eyes. "And then it didn't matter."

"It's always mattered," he answered fiercely. "These years haven't changed that. I promise you. Only delayed it."

"Don't leave me again." It was part demand, part terrified request.

He cupped her face, his eyes never leaving hers. "Never again."

A flying 80 pound ball of black fur hit the bed at a dead run and Jill shrieked, laughing. The dog bounced around, licking faces with a tongue that was big enough to cover nearly half her face at once. His tail wagged, cutting the air with excitement.

Chris sighed and hugged her tight. "Unless Louie needs to go out."

Louie bounded off the bed before Chris could shove him off, the black lab mix running back down the stairs with the sound of rampaging elephants.

When he rose to move, Jill held on to him and he looked down at her. Before she could say it, he shook his head. "Where you go, I go. Doesn't matter where it is." Gentle kisses to each of her eye lids. "I love you Jill. Nothing has ever been able to change that." Her eyes met his and he felt her breath catch. "That night was perfect. But it's done. This night we start again. Agreed?"

The smile she gave him was equal parts happy and mischievous. "Chris, it's day time."

He poked her in the side, knowing it would tickle. "Fine then. Today. We start again. The first day of the rest of our lives together." He kissed her. "Okay?"

"Absolutely." Jill hugged him tightly to her.

A bark sounded from the kitchen door and she laughed, pushing Chris away from her. "You'd better go take care of that. Don't want him taking it out on your shoes again."

Laughing Chris headed for the stairs. That Night was the best night of his life. Today though? Nothing would ever top it.

Author's Note: Yes there is a story behind Louie, one I had originally intended to include but no where ever felt right when I tried it. LOL maybe one day it will be a story that gets told.