It was the summer of 2010, and Claire had been invited to speak at the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new BSL3 Biomedical Research Laboratory at her old university given her distinguished alumna status and hands-on experience combating biological terrorism.
She admired her reflection in the mirror as she stared back at herself in a slinky pewter gray strapless cocktail dress. She rarely dressed up, but made it a point to enjoy it whenever she did. She left her hair down and the long, straight locks cascaded over her shoulders and back in neat layers while her side swept bangs framed her face. Her husband had purchased the dress for her to wear to a fancy dinner on the cruise to Mexico he surprised her with just the previous month as a gift for their second wedding anniversary. He was away on assignment though, so she was forced to attend the wine and cheese reception tonight alone. Her dress was too clingy for her to wear her thigh holster but she tucked her Saturday night special into her evening clutch before slipping into black high heel peep toe sling backs and heading out the door.
Months ago, Albert Wesker tracked down a former Tricell employee, David Hodges, to a university. The Tricell associate was given very little choice but to comply to Wesker's requests, lest he be revealed and lose his tenure, or worse be incarcerated.
"I'll help you if you help me, Hodges," were Wesker's words to the man. How fortunate that a new lab was coming on-line. After the Africa incident, Wesker hid in plain sight. No one would look for him there. He exchanged his sunglasses for colored contact lenses in case his temper should flare.
"There's a reception for the lab happening tonight," the scientist began as he dipped a pipette into a beaker of benzene. "I heard a rumor that a Raccoon City and Harvardville survivor will not only be attending but will be making a speech tomorrow at the ribbon cutting ceremony."
"Do you know his name?" Wesker asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Her name, actually. And no, I don't know it," replied Hodges. He was always clumsy around Wesker. This time, Hodges was too quick to let go of the bulb and the gurgling sound of benzene filling the rubber cavity elicited a wince from his aging face.
"Imbecile. I hope your pipetting technique is not indicative of your intelligence."
Wesker left the lab; returning to his hotel room, he accessed a top secret government personnel database and found everything he needed to know.
Claire twirled her wedding ring on her finger as she rode in the back of a cab on the way to the reception. She planned to drink a little, not too much, but she was the type who refused to drive even after a single glass of wine. She was excited about meeting up with old college friends but was sad she would have to introduce her handsome better half another time. The jealous stares he earned from other women actually thrilled her.
Three glasses of Chianti Riserva and what seemed like hours of dry chatter later, her eyes fell upon a tall man with blond hair dressed in a black suit. He looked ravishing. She detected a note of familiarity but she couldn't place him.
Perhaps an old professor? No, he would've looked older by now. Maybe a TA.
Their eyes met. She watched as he made his way from the ballroom to presumably the restrooms. The reception was held in the campus student center, a multi-level structure with study rooms, computer terminals, couches, and two food courts in addition to the ballroom the reception was occupying. He passed one set of restrooms and kept walking before he disappeared around a corner. Still following, she gained on him only to see the door of another men's room closing.
Realizing it would be creepy of her to wait for him to emerge, she shook her head and turned away from the door to return to the ballroom but instead the door shot open and in a blink he placed his hand over her mouth as he pulled her from behind into the men's room. He locked the door behind her and kicked away her clutch that she had dropped to the floor.
It was then that she remembered who the man in black was.
"You have some nerve showing up here!" she hissed when he released her.
"I'm sorry about your brother." The look on his face was earnest. He was sorrier than she would ever know.
"What's it going to take for you to give up? I won't let you get away with whatever you're planning in the new lab."
"You're a fool to think you can stop me from getting what I want. Lucky for you, there's only one thing that comes to mind at the moment."
"People saw me tonight and I'm speaking at the ceremony tomorrow. People are going to look for me if I don't show up. You wouldn't want your precious new lab to be crawling with law enforcement investigating my murder."
"I didn't take Chris's life. What makes you think I would take yours? I spared you on Rockfort Island. Am I not merciful?"
Claire turned to leave but he quickly blocked her path, staring her down as his eyes trailed to the name tag on her chest.
Claire Redfield Kennedy
BA Public Policy 2003
"Looks like a lot has changed in twelve years. Where's Mr. Kennedy? I don't believe I saw anyone accompanying you."
"You leave him out of this!"
"Too bad. I already know where he is. I have friends in low places. The Netherlands, I mean."
With eyes widening, she gulped.
"I think we should take this conversation somewhere more comfortable. A washroom is hardly a place for old friends to get reacquainted."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out his phone but she interrupted him before he could dial.
"Wait! Ok. Lead the way."
"Good choice," he said as he picked up her clutch and removed the petite revolver and cell phone. "I think I'll hold onto these for now," and slipped them into his jacket pocket before handing her the purse.
She followed him to his rental car and he drove them to the nearby Hotel Palomar, complete with valet parking. They breezed through the lobby and waited for an elevator to arrive. As they entered, Claire's heel got wedged in the gap between the elevator and shaft, causing her to stumble but he caught her by the arm before she could fall. She quickly jerked her elbow away.
"Not used to playing dress up, are you?"
"I'm getting better at it."
"You should more often. It suits you," he said as he eyed her from head to toe. The woman standing before him was a far cry from the spunky teenager he met twelve years ago. Still spunky, but the years had replaced her soft, girlish features with a sharpness that was even more alluring.
From the other side of the elevator she sized him up too. His eyes were foreign to her, and she couldn't help but stare. She had a memory of a red flash from behind dark sunglasses, but had no idea what kind of depth his eyes possessed until now.
The elevator opened once it reached the ninth floor.
They made their way down a long hallway and reached room 912. Once inside, she spoke.
"You still haven't told me what it is you want."
"Look where you are. I think you know what I want." The room emulated the opulence she expected from a man with his taste in fashion. A housekeeper had already performed the turn down service and mints were placed on top of both fluffy pillows.
"You're sick. I'm married!" Her reply betrayed the not unpleasant twisting and turning she felt in her stomach at the thought of him having his way with her.
"Fine. Resign yourself to being the faithful but lonely wife. Do place the 'Do not disturb' sign on the door on your way out if you would be so kind." By then he had removed his suit jacket and hung it in the closet. He tossed the handgun and phone back to her before removing his shoes and socks.
"I'm only here because you threatened Leon!"
"You don't give me enough credit. I would never take such a cheap shot. It's your dear husband you should be scrutinizing anyway. Who do you think keeps him warm on those cold nights in Europe?"
"I trust him."
"Your trust is misplaced." He walked over to his open briefcase and pulled out a surveillance photo printout showing Leon and a slender, raven-haired woman mid-stride in a hotel lobby. Ada. The time stamp indicated it was from the year before.
"No…NO! He promised me! You! You bastard! Always having to ruin everything!"
"Consider it a favor that I opened your eyes, dear heart," he said, already having removed his tie and was undoing the second button of his shirt.
The wine, which had at first sparked arousal, now amplified the outrage she felt upon seeing the photo and hearing the familiar endearment. She leapt at him where he was seated on the bed, clutching both of her hands as tightly as she could around his throat. He only smiled as he flipped her off him, pinning a wrist in each of his hands above her head against the bed while his weight kept her from squirming. Her shoes fell off in the struggle.
She tipped her head forward to meet his gaze straight-on, blue eyes blazing. He pulled back as he maintained his grasp on her wrists and used his forehead to nudge her jaw upward to trace the tip of his nose along the smooth, fragrant skin of her neck. J'adore.
He licked his lips and planted a trail of soft kisses from her collarbone to her jaw that tingled as the moisture left behind from each one evaporated. She relaxed against his grip on her wrists and let out a deep sigh. Her mouth thirsted for a kiss and she strained to reach his lips but he pulled further back and gave a slight shake of his head. He slid his hands down her arms before pushing himself up to undo a few more shirt buttons. He pulled the garment over his head and tossed it aside. He moved to the side to roll Claire onto her stomach. He let his hands travel from her bare shoulders to her covered ass before reaching both hands under her dress to pull down her underwear, a black lacy thong already stained by her pleasure.
"I don't want to ruin this dress."
"As you wish."
Claire rose from the bed, letting him pull down the zipper of her dress. She stepped out of it and draped it over the back of a nearby chair before pausing to think whether or not she should turn off the lights. She kept them on.
"Strip," she commanded. "I'm not getting back on that bed until you catch up with me."
She sat on the very edge of the same chair and spread her legs. Her left hand cupped a breast while she rubbed herself with her right. She searched his eyes and found desire. She watched intently as he slid off the bed to unbuckle his belt. He undid the button of his pants and tugged down the zipper, letting them fall to the floor before kicking them away. He walked over to where she sat and placed her hands on his hips with her fingers grazing the elastic of his gray boxer briefs. He bent forward to pick up where her hand left off as he placed his other hand on her shoulder.
She leaned into his touch and lightly brushed her fingers against the bulge in his underwear. She pushed his arms out of the way and nuzzled her cheek into his clothed erection, teasing him, immersing herself in his masculine scent. He ran his fingers through her silky red hair, massaging her scalp, urging her to continue.
She at last pulled down his underwear allowing him to spring to life in her face. She stroked him with both hands before dipping low to wrap her lips around one of his balls, drawing her breath in slightly and sealing the gaps between the corners of her mouth and his sensitive skin. He swooned and would have fainted had he not caught himself. He took hold of her chin, gently, and she stood to follow his touch. He gave her the most tender of kisses before stooping to hoist her over his shoulder. They crashed onto the bed and his lips were once again upon hers, with teeth and noses colliding.
She dug her hands into the taut skin of his back as he thrust powerfully into her. He was all muscle, all sinew. She had forgotten how strong he was, but his body moving over hers reminded her of how effortlessly he tossed her around on Rockfort Island. She anchored her heels into the bed and synced her hips to clash as hard against his as she could. The ferocity of their rutting made her head spin. It excited her but too soon she felt the rush of warmth as he came in her. He pulled out and cleaned himself off before climbing back into bed and settling under the covers.
Claire then got up for her turn to use the bathroom. Afterward she went straight to the chair and took the dress to cover herself, crossing her arms in front of her under her breasts to keep the garment in place as she walked over to the foot of the bed.
"Do you throw your whores back onto the street after you're done with them?"
"Yes. Or worse." Excella. "But you're not like the others," he said as he moved toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her chest. You're a Redfield. But he didn't tell her. He would never tell her. "Stay." It almost sounded like a plea instead of an invitation.
He released her from the embrace, running his hands along her sides to grasp the neckline of the dress. Claire uncrossed her arms and let him discard the garment on the floor. He scooted back and pulled down the sheet on the other side of the bed, motioning with his head for her to climb in. She willingly acquiesced but faced away from him as she lied on her side in a near-fetal position as he covered her with the sheet. He turned off the lights before spooning her and draping his arm over her waist. Her favorite. It felt strangely cathartic to be held by him.
They were awakened the next morning by the sound of Claire's phone ringing in her purse. She missed the call by the time she scrambled to answer. It was Leon. She dialed him back.
"Hey baby."
"Sorry I missed your call."
"It's ok. How are you?"
"Besides that you just woke me up, I'm great. How about you?"
"I miss you. How was it seeing your old friends?"
"Oh, fantastic. I had a real blast last night." She had shuffled back to the bed by then.
"Glad to hear it. I just wanted to wish you good luck on your speech today."
"Thanks sweetie," eyes still locked with Wesker's as he stared back at her from between her legs, his mouth suckling gently.
"I love you, Claire."
"And I love you, Leon. Call again soon."
Leon had his secret and now Claire had hers too.
AN: This is an un-betaed piece that I was inspired to write after reading Host Parasite Host by sad little tiger. I highly recommend it along with The Serpent, a joint effort with Chaed and Thaleron under the name The Unholy Trio.