Spring

The first words out of his mouth were "Are you hurt?"

He had wrapped an arm around her as they turned to walk into the hotel. She just held his one hand in hers for a moment. "Not really. Nothing a long day in a warm bed won't fix."

She could tell that he was smiling for a moment before he pulled away to open the door. "Why don't you look at the menu while I draw up a bath for you?"

She paused for a moment. "What is it that you want?" She was tired and didn't want him walking around anything that he could just tell her. "Why did you show up here?"

"I don't always have an ulterior motive," he told her. "Sometimes I just want to be with you."

"Sometimes, sure, but what about this time?"

He sighed before cupping her face. "Relax. I don't want anything from you." He gave her a kiss on the forehead before pulling away. "Order anything you want."

She watched him retreat to the bathroom before releasing a quiet sigh. "I'll never figure you out, will I?"

He hadn't gone into the bath with her-he rarely ever did. He liked to be there, waiting with a towel and a basic first aid kit. That night, she had a shallow cut on her the back of her right shoulder. She didn't even want him to touch it, but he still put Bactine on it.

Sighing, she leaned into him when he was done. Room service had come while she had still been in the bathroom, and they were camped out on the large bed now, relaxing.

He only did this with her these days. He couldn't bring himself to ask her if she wanted a real relationship, because that implies so many things that they just couldn't pull off anymore. Not with their lives as they were.

He flipped on the TV to fill the silence. He didn't mind it, almost preferred it, but he knew that she hated it. Silence made her curl into herself, took her away from the little time that they did have together.

They didn't talk for a while, not until her eyes started to droop. The past few days had been long, nothing she couldn't handle, but nonetheless she was tired. She pressed into him a little more and he brought the blanket up around them, making sure that it was around her shoulders.

"Good night, darling," he said to her.

"Mhmm, good night, Wesker."

Summer

"Now that Wesker is gone, how should we proceed?" One superior said to another.

Her head shot up. Gone?

She must've voiced it because some woman turned to her. "He went bat shit crazy in Africa. Some BSAA and his partner took him out."

She blinked. Chris, of all people? It had to be Chris-who else in the BSAA would have been capable to take out Wesker? At least... at least it wasn't Leon. She wasn't sure if she could have ever looked at Leon again if he'd been the one to kill Wesker. But he wasn't. It was Chris, his former subordinate, pain in the ass, Chris.

She didn't speak the rest of the meeting. She wasn't sure if she was distraught, but it felt wrong that he was gone. He was Albert Wesker, one of the two remaining Wesker children. And he was gone.

When she got back to her room, all she could do was sit on the bed. Gone, gone, gone; the words repeated themselves over and over in her head. He was absolutely gone this time, wasn't he?

She stared at the wall. No wonder she hadn't heard from him. She'd figured that he had just holed himself up in a lab, trying to perfect something, something that was supposed to hurt but something that would be stopped, but he hadn't. He was gone, gone and dead.

She slowly laid down, feeling the tears coming. Had he been the only one to see her cry? He must've. She couldn't remember anyone else who might've seen her cry.

Maybe she was supposed to feel relieved. He was the only one who had wanted her to kill Leon, and now she probably wouldn't ever have to. The last bit of Ada would live on with Leon, untouchable and safe.

He'd hated that name, she remembered suddenly. He'd hated it ever since Raccoon City. She'd tried to get rid of it, really, but it wouldn't leave her. Maybe that was another reason he hated Leon, because he was a constant reminder of Ada, the girl who she was supposed to have forgotten. Forgotten and just moved on, a machine. A machine that only Wesker could really ever have, no matter who the situation placed her with.

She weakly took out an iPod from underneath the pillow and let it play. It'd been a stupid something he'd gotten her, one of the few lasting gifts he ever had. He told her it was to fill the silence when he couldn't.

Now he would never fill the silence for her ever again.

The feelings came crashing down-anger at Chris for killing him, anger at him for being so stupid to let that happen, anger at herself for feeding into him, anger, anger anger, and grief, oh the grief.

She couldn't remember a time when she had cried so hard before. She felt so undignified with her tears streaming down her face, her nose runny, his throat hoarse.

She tried to stop it, tried to think that she didn't care, that he'd been someone who gave her orders and filled the time in between jobs. He'd been so much more than that though, and she knew that. Deep down, she couldn't shake that off.

She kept crying until she was so exhausted that she just shut her eyes and feel asleep, curled up around a pillow.

Autumn

It was a few months after the China incident. She didn't know why she was in the middle of nowhere, walking into a motel to talk to Jake Muller.

Yeah, she'd saved his and Sherry's life. She didn't want any payment for that, because it would've made Wesker happy that she saved him. Maybe, she didn't know. She hadn't even know that Wesker had a son before the whole mess had started and she wondered if he'd known.

She slowed after asking the girl behind the desk which room was Muller's. Would've he have told, if he had? They-no, no she hadn't, not until he had said it-had considered children to be obstacles, people who slowed you down.

She was approaching the door. Her heart was racing-was Jake even there? Would he even speak to her if he was? She fought the urge to puke. She was the best there was in espionage, she had been Ada Wong, she was-

She was knocking on the door. Knocking on the door and praying that she wasn't making a fool out of herself.

"Hey," Jake said as he opened the door. "You're that Ada chick, right? What do you want?"

She eased past him, taking in the small room quickly before sitting on the edge of the bed. Wesker's son simply stared at her for a moment.

"I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to stop by and say hello. Catch up and all that."

"I smell an ulterior motive," he said, staying at the door. "If you're here to cart me off somewhere, start trying right now."

She laughed. "You underestimate me, darling. If I wanted you to be somewhere, you'd already be there. Really, Jake, I just want to talk with you."

"Why?"

Her fingertips pressed into her thigh. "I knew your father."

"So? A lot of people did."

How was she supposed to explain it? Why was she even there? "I wanted to see how much you were like him." She could feel her eyes watering; she looked down at her watch. She didn't have to be anywhere, but she wanted to seem busy; distant. It was better than looking at him looking at her.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, pulling a chair over and sitting on i backwards.

And thus began a friendship built on them needing to know more. She needed to know how much of Wesker was in his son, and Jake wanted to know more about Wesker and this woman who seemed to have a hand in everything.

Winter

It was the holidays and yet another year that she was going to spend it alone.

Jake had offered to ask if Sherry would have them both, but she didn't want to be a third wheel. She didn't have a job at the moment-not a lot of the underground bothered with work around Christmas. Even the worst of the worst wanted to spend time with their families.

She briefly considered stopping by Leon's, but she didn't want to do that to him. Their relationship was complicated enough as is and it was better that he spend with the people who cared about him and were always there for him.

She sighed, continuing her walk down the Champs-Elysees. She thought that maybe she could buy things and forget the emptiness that she got when seeing people together and happy, but it didn't work. Why should it? She had done horrible things, so why should she be happy? She knew that she didn't even deserve happiness.

She shook her head and ducked out of the way to fix her scarf. The black wool kept shifting, tightening around her throat. She sighed and took it off altogether, shoving it into her bag.

She stood there, under the awning of some Parisian cafe, taking in the world around her. These people seemed happy, truly happy.

I'm probably the only one who isn't happy in Paris. She stepped back out into the street, taking a deep breath as she did. She kept her head down, not caring where she went as long as it was somewhere.

She walked straight into someone who had just been standing there, in one of Paris's busiest streets.

"I'm sorry," the man said.

She looked up, recognizing the voice even though it'd been years.

"Wes…" she let herself drift off, even though the man was right in front of her. It was a trick of her mind, she was sure of it. But as he stood there, smiling at her, moving only to take her hands into his (those warm, warm hands. Those weren't hands of the dead), letting other people bump into them, she took a shaky breath before returning his smile.

"Wesker!" she said before flinging her arms around him. Maybe she looked like a schoolgirl, but he was right there, in front of her, after years. "I missed you. I missed you so much." She was almost crying again but it would've been out of happiness.

His arms wrapped around her. She pulled back the slightest bit; their lips met softly at first, but then deeper and deeper.

She closed her eyes, in bliss. "Je t'aime, mon chaton."

He chuckled. "I love you too, mon ange."

Author's Note: Spring = I'm thinking before RE4, Summer = obviously kind of right after RE5, Autumn = a few months after RE6, and Winter = a few years after RE6

I hope you enjoyed this! I kind of just fell in love with this pairing.

I guess I ended this in Paris because... Paris is cool. And Ada is kind of like Nikita, who was French. And I really wanted her to call Wesker a kitten (okay, let's face Wesker = Whisker and he kept coming back to life. He might as well be a cat.)

(Btw "mon ange" = "my angel" and "Je t'aime, mon chaton" = "I love you, my kitten") And I'm really sorry that Champs-Elysees isn't accented.

Bonne journee ^_^

~HolleringHawk65