A/N: I've been lead down the scary path of multi-shipping. Actually, this is nothing new. Guilty pleasure ships are genuinely scary though. Whoops. See you guys in shipper hell!
Set just after Degenerations. -Blames friend who shall remain nameless-
Presenting junk I'll never actually finish writing, another for the bonfire :v
Not ClairexLeon for the record, no wrong ideas DX
Resident Evil does not belong to me.
"It's official, I hate dates."
"It's good to see you too, Claire."
The dirty-blonde haired man patted the backing of the seat behind him at the bar. Claire only gave an irritated grunt and sat down on the bar stool, slumping her arms on the counter in front of her and collapsing her weight onto it. Resting her head over crossed arms, she spied her friend only in the corner of her eye. She waved the bartender over, pointing idly to the pint of beer Leon had in his hand.
"One of those, if you kindly."
Leon leaned over in his chair, giving Claire a pat on the shoulder. It had been a number of months since they had caught up, it was a rare occasion that Leon even had time off, let alone happening to be in the same area as Claire.
"You look like you need that beer and a will to live." He'd chuckled as she swatted his hands away, reluctantly easing herself up from the counter. "Long day?"
The woman sighed, relieved as her own beverage met her fingers. She'd be sure to tip the guy for getting her some well needed alcohol so quickly. "Total understatement." Claire sighed, taking a chug of her beer. "Terrible finish. I'm completely positive that men suck."
"I apologize for the trespasses my gender has caused against you."
She halfheartedly waved her hand, staring down at the contents of her glass. She paused for some time, before sighing deeply and turning to look at Leon. "I hope you're having better luck in the love-life department than I am. You secret agents get all the fun."
"I certainly can't complain, have quite a number of love letters stocked in boxes." He smiled briefly, quickly wiping it from his face as Claire's glare did not subside with his humour. "Sorry, sorry. No love for the Anti-Bioterrorism Agents?"
She shook her head before raising her glass to him. He tapped his own lightly against hers, both glasses evened out enough for proper cheers of the occasion. "Plenty of love, that's certainly not the problem. Just nothing I'd be calling quality!"
"Do tell." He raised a brow, the smirk returning to his features. She pouted in return, giving his shoulder a light shove.
"I totally give up. Forever alone is sounding like a really good outcome right now." She shook her head, pausing to take another sip of her beer. "No-one takes hints these days. I really do try to be polite but there's something about 'no' that lads don't seem to understand. It's a huge pain in my ass, Leon!"
The blonde paused for a moment, scratching his chin as he thought. He put his beer back down on the bar before pushing his seat out. "I've got something that might cheer you up."
"That's a laugh…" She scoffed, then grimaced as he began heading to the door, "You're leaving me?!"
"Five minutes! It's in the car!"
Claire's posture slouched as she once against slumped on the support in front of her. She hated the idea of being there on her own since no doubt she seemed like a simple enough score. Granted, there was a good chance she was just being pessimistic – a trait she was unhappy to find herself displaying more frequently about her own situations. Yet sure enough—
"Here all on your own?"
"Like clockworks." Her muttering was not loud enough to be heard by the man beside her. She hadn't even bothered to take the time to look the man up and down – one failed courtship was enough for one day, and she didn't entertain the idea of another.
She rested her elbow on the bar, resting a cheek against her palm. She looked at the man questioningly – from the light observation, she concluded he probably wasn't a bad guy, but not to her tastes. Whether he'd get that or not was entirely debatable.
"Just sitting in for a lonely drink." She explained simply, doing her best not to sound at all bitter. Just because she was in a bad mood didn't mean she had to take it out on everyone else, after all.
The young man smiled and winked at her, "I could join you?"
Claire paused, sitting up straight and cupping her hands around her glass. "I'm sorry, bad wording. I'm pretty chill on my own, thank you though."
He gestured to her glass – "You look low, I could buy you another one, have a chatter."
"Thank you, but you don't need to worry yourself with that."
"Trust me, it's no worry, not when it comes to a chance of having the company of a dreadfully cute girl."
She was about to halfheartedly respond when she felt an arm rest over her shoulders. She glanced upwards for a moment, the side of her face brushing against Leon's shoulder.
"I might be out of my place here," He had a glare in his eyes and a bit of venom dripping in his voice. His performance made the man flinch for a moment, "But do you mind not hitting on my fiancée?"
It was a small gesture, but it made her feel more comfortable with the situation regardless. Although Leon's physique didn't particularly impress Claire after seeing her brother's workout regime, he did come across as a man built well enough to take care of himself – and those around him.
"Ooooh, hey!" Claire tapped Leon's hand, suddenly returning to her vibrant self, "You could totally show me that German Suplex now!"
Leon took the moment to look at Claire, before back to the man in question. His smile seemed almost sadistic at this point as he carried on. "Maybe! What do you say, feel like giving me a hand showing wrestling moves to my lovely lady?"
The colour drained from the man's face for a second. He wasn't sure if the guy was kidding, but he was… Incredibly convincing, and the woman seemed giddy at the idea. "I think I'll give it a miss!" He only managed to choke out the answer before looking to Claire. He immediately tried to compose himself, but it was a poor effort after that, "If you ever come down without company…"
"Vamoose!" Leon waved his hand at the man, who quickly decided to take his leave.
Once he was out of sight, Claire smirked and looked up to Leon as she pushed his arm off her shoulders. "Vamoose?"
"Oh shush," Leon sitting back in his chair, slipping a hand into his trouser pocket. It took a moment for him to withdraw a small square of colour. "I haven't used that since I was a kid."
"Can you actually do that?" Claire quizzed, seeming fairly relaxed now, setting back to drinking her beer. The guy was right – the glass was nearly empty. That was fast. "The Suplex, I mean."
"Why do you look surprised? Next guy coming onto you, I'll give a first hand demonstration." He slipped the slither of paper into her hand. "Now, here, chirp up."
It took her some seconds to respond. She wasn't entirely sure what she was to expect Leon to bring back, and this hadn't seemed any more likely. Cautiously she held the polished paper, flipping it over in her hand.
Her smile was immediate and bright.
Even though she still got to see the girl, now a young lady of nineteen, it was never enough for her own tastes and made her heart ache. She could not recall one time where she'd been allowed to sneak out with a photo of the little girl she'd grown so attached to over the years, yet somehow Leon had managed it. Sherry had grown into a fine woman.
"Sorry it's not any larger; I thought it was about the right size to fit in a wallet, so I nabbed that one." Leon explained, tapping the photo lightly with his index finger.
"If you can sneak another one, make sure it's with both you and her."
"I'll be sure to. Just have to get the superiors drunk again."
"I'm impressed."
She held the photo to her chest, closing her eyes and smiling to herself. She pulled her wallet from her jeans with her free hand. "Thank you…" Her voice was soft but warm, her thanks genuine. "It means a lot to me, Leon…" She slipped the photo into a pouch beside an image of her brother and herself in their younger years, snapping it back shut and returning it to her jean pocket.
The two shared another drink and stayed for another two hours, just spending time talking about both the insignificant things and the more pressing matters in their lives.
Claire dwelled for some time about her workload, explaining an excess of paperwork due to the laziness of others in an otherwise wonderful organization. Her passion was still speaking to other people, and she was known amongst her co-workers for being so gentle and soft-hearted with children that had been affected by different outbreaks and experiments. It was clear she had quickly become a valued member of TerraSave.
It didn't surprise Leon at all, but he was happy regardless to know that those sweet corners of her personality still remained strong. He pressed her about her supposedly lousy day, and the apparent date that had flunked out. She dismissed his inquires, deflecting the conversation to Leon's own work.
'Not at liberty to say' was commonly said, only to be followed immediately by all the juicy details of his adventures and taking down of big baddies. There was quite an assortment to her surprise, and it was nice to hear about things outside of the anti-virus circle. It was considerably more exciting that what Claire had been dealing with, and each time the conversation turned back to her own occupation she would ask him about another one of his missions, which he seemed overly excited to share with his old friend.
Soon enough, the familiar sound of an old show could be heard from one of the shoddy TVs in the bar. The opening jingle was familiar, and Claire swore as she looked to the screen. "Blue Heelers? Shit, it's late."
"I'm gonna guess another beer's out of the question?"
"If I rush home, I can totally catch the end of this episode." She was mostly kidding in her response, although it was hard to tell with her taste for television dramas. She pulled out her wallet once more, hurriedly paying for the orders and telling the tender not to worry about the change. When Leon went to pay for his own, the man behind the bar simply gesture to Claire.
"Jeez Claire, do I looked that strapped for cash?"
"Well yeah, you can't even afford a haircut!"
"Cheeky… Next one's my shout in that case." Regardless, the man threw some money onto the counter for his own tip, just happy with having a drink without having to break up a bar fight – even if he had potentially nearly caused one himself.
He extended his elbow to the young Redfield, "M'lady."
She curtsied as best she could in jeans, before linking her arm with his. "Madam, surely you know we must stick together." She responded with a smirk.
"You're just full of sass tonight!" Leon chuckled, receiving a shrug in response as they began to leave.
"A drink and a good laugh is enough to pick anyone up, even if it comes hand-in-hand with a side of the Redfield sass."
Both had parked towards the back of the pub, ensuring no cold walks were involved with leaving. The parking lot was small, but sufficient enough during the week. The weekend rush was something else entirely.
Leon put his arms around Claire and hugged her tightly before patting her on the back. He released her, ruffling her hair – she swatted his hand, giving a shout of annoyance. His need to tease her satisfied, he turned to Claire's bike.
"Should you be driving back?" He quizzed. Claire was significantly lighter than him, and he was a tad buzzed.
"Should you?"
Smaller she might be, but she was feeling no effect of the booze she had consumed. She could hold her drinks quite well, and she was mystified that he hadn't learnt that yet.
"I know how much I can drink before I hit that point o' five. I could drive you home." He offered, tipping his head slightly to indicate his parked car.
"And leave my baby here?" Claire patted the seat of her motorcycle, shaking her head as if offended by the notion. "Not a chance!"
He laughed lightly, realizing he should have known better. She was still as stubborn as the day he had met her. Another trait she had kept over the years and it seemed to be paying off for the most part.
"If you're sure," He pulled his own keys from a pocket on his vest, casually lifting them over his shoulder and unlocking his car with a click of a button. "Take care then, alright? If I hear about a crash on the news I'm going to be belittling you in your hospital bed."
"Duly noted!" She was fast enough to get on her bike, lifting her helmet from the bars and slipping in on before starting the engine up. "If you're still in town, drinks again next week?"
"Sounds like a good plan to me, I'll let you know if I get carted off before then." He began his walk towards his car, pausing mid way. He turned to Claire, pointing at her as if accusing her of something, "Text me when you're home safe, alright? Or I'm coming by and busting down your door."
She gave him a quick salute and took off – not before telling the young man not to drive into a tree, of course.
Chaining up her bike in underground parking lot seemed to be the bane of her existence. She was thankful such a thing existed for the apartment complex, but it made her craving for a decent garage no less apparent. It would be lovely to just park and not be concerned, but constant rotating tenants let through a few sticky fingered thieves on occasions.
She was still unsure how she managed to weasel her way out of the assault charge after clocking one of the old residents in the face with the back of her heel. Granted, it seemed like that incident had prevented anyone else from as much as breathing on her transport, let alone trying to nab it.
It was a stupidly large effort to get everything secure only to trudge up to the second floor. Maybe one day they would get an elevator – it was a long shot, but certainly a nice thought. She'd become too accustom to the place and the locals to desire moving to a more convenient living space. A house seemed like a waste of space for just herself to live in.
She hunted around her pocket for a moment, once more retrieving her keys. She juggled her inventory a bit as she opened the door, her helmet tucked under her arm and making it essentially impossible to open the door with.
There were two soft clicks as she moved between locks – she was just as distrusting with her abode's safety as she was with her motorcycle, spending money out of pocket to have the additional locks installed. She pulled the door and it jammed, perplexing her for a moment. Checking the locks, one remained closed. She muttered quietly, slightly confused, and a confirming click assured the opening of the third lock. She'd need to get it looked at for sure.
The door gave a soft creak as it pushed open. She walked in, idly pushing it shut with her foot. She took the few spare moments to flip the locks once more.
"I'm home!"
The call was to no-one particular. She was hoping one day to be greeted by a dog, but her dream breed of a Chesapeake Bay Retriever was too big for the little home. Maybe she'd talk to the landlord and get a Papillon. That small moment she considered names, and felt a pain her heart as she contemplated settling on 'Steve'.
"Ugh… This sucks."
Claire Redfield's arrival announcement was a very simple one as she slipped into the apartment. She threw her jacket and helmet beside the door, despite knowing she'd beat herself up for it later. She was simply tired, or more so frustrated, and couldn't be bothered keeping the place neat.
Her steps were sluggish as she walked across the lounge room's carpet, making a beeline for the small kitchen. As she walked she pulled her phone and wallet from her pockets and threw them on the couch as she went.
She had work in the morning, seven or eight hours from now. Her sleep for the most part was restless, and she was still experimenting with remedies to try and keep her asleep through the night. Things only seemed to work for limited amounts of time.
She clambered around the cupboards for a moment, letting milk heat in a pot which was taking enough time to grate on her nerves. A few spoonfuls of a jar and a whisk of that milk, and a cup of moderate quality hot chocolate came about as her saviour. She'd clean up after herself following work tomorrow, even if scrubbing would be a total pain. A quick rest and some channel surfing sounded like a really good idea to her. Give it a minute or two and she'd text Leon so he didn't have kittens and panic.
Claire took that a moment on her trip back to the lounge to grab a book from one of her shelves. She hoped that eventually when the whole bioterrorism crap was over, she might be able to put her head down and get back to studying. The Law Degree she had once been studying for seemed so much more peaceful compared to her work now. Her books were several years old, but it was still nice to brush up on bits and pieces.
She was caught up reading the back of her book as she sipped the cocoa. She was busy trying to place what semester she had used the text book in, and if it would still even be remotely relevant. She sighed, slumping down on her couch. She froze, sitting up straight.
"... This is not my couch."
"Fantastic observation."
Claire immediately tried to stand up, and essentially throw herself across the room away from danger, but the arm that had slunk around her waist made it difficult. Impossible, actually – the inhumane strength seemed to carry over to mundane things.
Thankfully, the mug was snatched from her by the man's free hand before it could spill. She'd quickly dropped her book, and set about trying to get loose, pushing against his arm.
"Your inability to observe your surroundings serves to be particularly convenient for me."
"This is not okay!" She squeaked in a slight panic. "Wesker, how did you even get in here?!"
She received no response as the man, most certainly the elusive Albert Wesker, managed to place the mug on the floor and occupy himself with Claire's phone. He hummed what was apparently some sort of confirmation, obviously dismissing her question and lacking any particular interest in explaining himself. Not that she had expected anything substantial…
It only took her a moment to spy him idly clicking through her mobile. She'd always figured she was going to have to put a lock on it one day. Yesterday should have been that day, but she had been heavily distracted with work. She severely regretted this now.
She halted her struggle long enough to try and grab her phone. He held it out of her reach, allowing her to only grab air. She cursed, turning to him and digging her nails into his arm.
"There are easier ways to contact my brother than breaking in here and stealing my phone!" She snapped, shifting awkwardly as she realized she was seated on the man's lap. Her stomach churned - less for this realization and more so from noticing her journal wedged between the couch's arm and the man's leg.
She wouldn't have been able to see past his sunglasses to begin with, but there was a particular spark in his eye as he noticed her gaze. His lips curled into a smile, displaying his canines.
"I really am disappointed, Claire." He seemed amused as she shuddered from hearing her name leave his lips, "Not a single mention of myself - Quite a strike to my ego."
"Next time you say my name, choke on it!" she hissed defiantly. She knew there was no point making a grab for her journal – truthfully he probably hadn't even bothered with it. The taunt itself seemed like an odd waste of time to her.
She glared at him, doing her best to keep eye contact with him behind the darkened shades. The slight glow behind them was the only hint she even achieved said contact. She fought another shudder.
With a split second of courage, she swung a fist at him - he dropped her phone, easily grabbing her wrist. His brow lowered, and Claire didn't need to see his eyes to tell he was less than amused with her attempts.
"Dare I ask what that was about?"
"When a shark is about to bite you, you punch it." It had sounded a lot more intimidating in her head. It clearly didn't faze the man.
She was about to swing her other fist at him, but he tightened his grip on her wrist that he currently held. She winced - his hold was rough, and honestly caused her some pain. She clenched her jaw and leaned back against the arm around her waist, trying to distract herself from the shot of pain it sent up her arm. Somehow it managed to be a surprise.
"I advise you stop that, Redfield." While he was blunt, there was a hint of annoyance in his voice. He let go of Claire's wrist, which she immediately went about nursing. There would be a bruise for sure. "Come now, stay seated. You look awfully tired."
"You're not real. I drank more than I realized and I'm amazed I didn't crash my motorcycle on the way home. Maybe I'm dead and this is officially my hell." She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing against him – pain in her arm be damned! "Let. Me. Go!"
"Quiet."
He forcefully grabbed hold of her chin, causing her to gasp in reflex. He had his index finger and thumb against either of her jawbones, pressing against her skin. "Hm…"
She grabbed his arm, attempted to push him away. While she knew she couldn't exactly compete with his strength, she at least wanted her displeasure shown. He moved his finger and tapped her on the nose roughly, before moving his grip back to her jaw.
He tilted her chin down slightly, concentrating his gaze on her eyes. She simply looked back at him, a fire in her eyes that hid part of her fear.
"I never got a particularly good look at you back at the island." He simply continued to smirk, turning her to look slightly to the left. She felt a wave of discomfort and she noticed him inspecting her more closely. "You shouldn't be drinking. I can smell it on your breath. Not the most pleasant of things."
He moved his hold down, pressing his fingers against the artery in her neck. Her pulse was racing, and the response greatly pleased him.
Despite this, the young woman appeared confident enough to reply with snark, "Oh I'm sorry, you didn't let me know I was expecting you, I haven't freshened up!" She clenched her teeth and growled at him. He was unimpressed, noting her down to be far more kitten-like than a tiger of any means. "The hell are you planning, Wesker…?!"
The silence was icy and drawn out. As if trying to find an opportunity, Claire made a grab for her phone – although she succeeded in her attempt, Wesker gripped her throat tightly and it soon slipped from her grasp.
"Now dear, I think we can both agree that calling your brother would not be a good idea." He let a moment pass, seeing the girl's cheeks flush. It was quite amusing that she tried to act tough even in such a situation. He removed his hand, uncurling one finger at a time slowly and taunting her with the wait for her next breath. As soon as his grip weakened, she gasped for air, grabbing his wrist and trying to push him away again.
With a fluid motion he pushed her from her lap – she narrowly missed her coffee table and landed with a loud 'thud'. "I'll be keeping this, if you don't mind."
She glanced up, seeing Wesker shove her journal into his jacket. He removed his glasses, folding them with care before slipping them into his breast pocket. He'd looked back to her, orange irises shining like those of a cat. He pet the area of his jacket he had hidden the documents, before stepping over Claire – keeping eye contact the entire way until he was past her.
"Oh, no, sure! Go right ahead and add thief to your impressive criminal record!"
The carpet softened the sounds of his steps, and it was only the sound of the locks snapping that she was given any idea that he left, too caught up in grumbling to herself.
She continued to stay on the ground for some time, as if sure that rising from her spot would cause him to return. It was a good ten minutes that passed before she braved getting to her feet. She heard nothing in response to her actions. She hesitated, before grabbing her phone from the couch and bolting to her door. She hurriedly secured all the locks in place as if it was some sort of efficient defense before she pressed her back against the door, eventually sliding down and sitting in front of it.
She tried to spend a moment to think, but nothing came to her mind. There weren't any thoughts she could think about what had just played out.
"What the hell just happened?"
She crossed her arms over her knees, sitting in silence. She was utterly mystified, and honestly thankful she came out unscathed for the most part. She simply sat in silence for some time, only broken from the quiet by the buzzing of her phone.
Left on vibrate, it gave no melody. She felt around beside her for it, eventually locating it and bringing it to her ear.
"Heeeey…."
"Good, you're alive!" Good 'ol Leon.
"I have no idea how…"
"Are you alright? It sounds like something happened-"
She cut off the concerns man inquiry immediately with a sigh. He paused from his end, awaiting some words to accompany it.
"I'm fine… I think. I'm in one piece. I'll call you if anything changes."
She gave him no further chance to respond, idly hanging up on him. She tossed her phone over to her jacket, and slumped over onto her side. The cold air from underneath the door breezed across her hips and sent a chill through her – while not the same as before, it still made her aware of her confusing situation.
"Why are all the handsome ones homicidal maniacs?"