FALL, 2009

Golden sunshine bathed the green grass and danced through the red and yellow leaves of the decorative trees that lined the parking lot to Chris Redfield's apartment complex. Although it was fall, the light of the evening sun warmed everything it touched. Many residents of the apartment complex would have emphatically declared this a beautiful day, but Redfield was not one of them.

This particular fall evening found the BSAA agent carrying a load of boxes toward his Hummer, accompanied by his partner of several years, Jill Valentine, who was also carrying a box. Because he was much bigger than his partner, Chris' load was much more substantial than Jill's, . . . but this had nothing to do with is fouled mood.

"I can't believe you're doing this, Jill."

"I can't believe you find this so strange," she quickly rejoined.

"You know you don't have to do this."

"Yes. You've said that like five times today." Jill was impervious to Chris' present demeanor and was even smiling a little. Her higher spirits in the face of this unwelcome change for him, distressed Chris slightly.

Together, they arrived at the Hummer, and Chris pointed the unlocking remote at the back door, which slowly opened. He shoved the boxes into the back of the vehicle with little ceremony, and Jill did the same although with less angst.

"Then why are you doing this?" he asked.

"Come on, Chris. Dr. Rosenthal says I'm fine to be on my own now. Did you think that once you brought me home from Africa that I was going to live with you forever?"

"Did I ever say that I minded you living with me forever?"

Jill placed her hands resolutely on her hips. "Okay, no, but I'd think it'd be nice for you to have all your space back. Turn my bedroom back into your office, and you get the big bathroom back."

Chris backed away and forcefully closed the door. "I never used the office or that bathroom anyway. I told you that when I brought you home." They both came around the Hummer in opposite directions to get in – Chris on the driver's side, and Jill sitting shotgun as usual.

"Still," insisted Jill, "I'm fine. You don't have to take care of me anymore, and I think it's best I live in my own place. I mean, don't you think it weird for me to be living with you after all that's happened?"

Chris placed the keys in the ignition and started the car. "Actually no," he stated. "I don't think it's weird at all."

"I'll bet the BSAA thinks it's weird."

"I doubt the BSAA thinks about us at all," he rejoined looking over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking space.

"Well, that's probably truer than we'd like to believe," said Jill in a sigh. "I guess you just don't have the luxury of your work caring about what you want when your job is to fight bio-terrorism."

"Damn straight," returned Chris, putting the vehicle into gear and pulling away from the parking lot. "We even helped found the damn agency, and at the end of the day, we're pretty much expendable."

"I don't know," said Jill thoughtfully. "I think technically, they could have kicked me to the curb instead of transferring me to 'weapons'."

"I don't know. I guess," came Chris' dour reply.

Jill's transfer was a small part of the entire reason for Redfield's mood. After an entire year from his partner's return from Africa, it was discovered that the experimentation she had undergone from Albert Wesker's forceful implementation of a performance drug, called P-30, had seemingly irreversible side effects. For the most part, Jill Valentine was all right physically, but she still fell victim to very random bouts of fainting and fatigue – side effects that would not allow the BSAA to continue using her as a field agent. Chris Redfield was given the option of many new partners to choose from, but as qualified as any of them were, he refused them all. Although, he had worked with different partners in the past, these had only been temporary for the mission specifics, but as for replacing Jill Valentine entirely, he just couldn't do it. Jill Valentine was transferred to a new department as a weapons specialist and advisor, and now Chris Redfield had been elevated to Captain status, where he would manage full teams of agents for special operations. Being a Captain, Chris could live with. Having Jill safe in the offices, he could definitely live with, but with her transfer, she would be on a different side of the BSAA compound, their desks would no longer face each other, and to top it all off, Jill had decided it was best to move out of his apartment after all this had been decided. Chris wasn't sure he could live with all of that.

"I just don't like all this," he stated suddenly breaking the silence after they had travelled several miles toward Valentine's new apartment. "Like, am I ever going to see you again?"

Jill shrugged lackadaisically, finding her former partner's question a little absurd. "Probably. At work."

"You're on the other side of the damn compound."

"Well, we can still hang out like we used to before I moved in."

But her answer didn't seem to placate him. "I just hate this."

"What?"

"You know . . . . It's almost like he knew."

"Who?"

"Wesker."

"Knew what?"

"It's like he knew this would happen. Like he's still fucking with us however he can from the dead."

Jill smiled kindly and shook her head. "I'm sure Wesker never saw it this far. He just wanted us and the whole world dead."

"I don't know, Jill. He was pretty conniving. It wouldn't shock me at all if he somehow knew that if I managed to save you and stop him from unleashing that Uroboros thing, that you still wouldn't be able to shake that P-30 shit, and it would break up our partnership 'cause that's partially what he was trying to do in controlling you and trying to get you to kill me in the first place. He was all about making people suffer anyway he could, especially if it involved you and me."

But Jill wasn't convinced, however, she knew it didn't matter anyway. "Maybe," she said looking out the window. She wasn't exactly fond of all the changes either, but they were necessary, and there was nothing she could do about them.

Chris was quiet for the rest of the ride to the apartment building, but started complaining again as soon as Jill opened the door to her new home.

"This place is tiny."

"It's too late to bitch. You helped me pick it out." She put down her box, and immediately went to a shelving unit where she had left some scissors when she and Chris had moved more of her things earlier that week.

Chris took his boxes into the kitchen. "Oh that's nice," he called. "You get a great view of the parking lot. You can see the park from my place. From your bedroom window as a matter of fact."

"It's not my bedroom; it's your office, remember?" Jill didn't miss a beat unpacking the box.

Chris left the boxes in the kitchen, and came into the living room to retrieve the scissors. "Well, with your fainting spells, there's no way I'm letting you drive to work. I'm picking you up every morning."

"That's already been arranged," she returned not looking up from her work. "Barry's taking me every morning."

"Barry!?" Redfield was evidently upset.

"I'm on his way; you'd have to backtrack."

"Dammit, Valentine. It's like you're trying to get away from me." He lumbered back into the kitchen.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Chris."

"And what about all the money you saved in rent at my place," he called again from the kitchen. "This place is overpriced."

"This place isn't overpriced."

"Compared to your rent at my place it is."

"Everything's overpriced compared to free."

"Exactly my point!"

But Jill decided to ignore the point because she didn't understand why he never charged her for rent or anything when she was staying with him even when she offered. Redfield had made the excuse that he wouldn't charge her rent or any utilities until she was back on her feet financially after being officially declared dead for three years, however, Valentine had acknowledged Chris as her beneficiary in her will, leaving him all her assets, which he had promptly given back to her once he brought her home, so she had lost nothing except her original apartment those three years. Soon after she came home, the BSAA resumed giving her a paycheck even while she was recovering seeing as that her injuries and maladies were work related. She easily could have given Chris her half of the rent and utilities without any hardship, but he always had a way of changing the subject whenever she mentioned it.

"You're so weird, Chris," said Jill finally.

Redfield showed up in the kitchen doorway and leaned against his forearm, propped overhead on the doorjamb. "What do you mean?"

"I'd think you'd be looking forward to resuming your typical bachelor lifestyle without some woman living in your apartment all the time."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jill shrugged as she continued unpacking and unwrapping the contents of the box. "Well . . . you know. You get to do more interesting things with your free time."

"Like . . . what, Valentine?"

"I don't know – like . . . walk around in your underwear, or bring home random girls. Whatever it is bachelors do."

"Jill, I haven't brought random girls to my apartment since I was in the Air Force, and I walked around in my underwear all the time while you were living there!"

She stopped unpacking for a moment and thought. "Did you?"

"I invited you to join me."

"Oh." Jill went back to her task. "I don't remember that."

And Chris was slightly hurt by that last remark. "Dammit, Valentine," he nearly grumbled as he released his stance on the doorjamb and retreated back into the kitchen.

"What?" she innocently asked, missing the reason behind Chris' newfound ire.

"Just . . . dammit."

It was hard getting Chris to leave after they had finished unpacking and moving furniture around. Jill nearly had to push him out the front door, insisting, as she pushed, that she would be fine by herself. There were many things she understood about her partner, but this was one of those things she didn't. The next few weeks went by quietly, with no word from Chris, which she thought was strange based on all the fuss he made about her moving and being transferred, but at the same time, she was a little thankful as well. She thought that maybe she should invite him back to her apartment for a movie just to show him that although a lot had changed, it didn't mean that their relationship had to.

Chris accepted the invitation, and came over for a movie night, but Jill could feel that something was wrong. Although he was not necessarily in a bad mood, he was much quieter than usual. When living with him especially, whenever they had a movie night, it was quite typical for one of them to be leaning all over the other, and they seemed to take turns at it, however, for this movie night, Chris relegated himself to one side of the couch, feet on the coffee table with his arms crossed over his chest. Something about his energy made Jill feel safer to stay on the other side of the couch while holding a pillow for a barricade.

Over two hours later, the credits began to roll, and Jill felt she needed something to do to try to shift the atmosphere. She picked up the half-empty potato chip bowl and some empty bottles from the coffee table. "I don't know where they come up with this stuff," she said as she walked into the kitchen.

"Yeah." Chris' response seemed to be made absently.

From inside the kitchen, Jill heard Chris get up from the couch. When she walked back into the living room, he was standing near the front door, eying his keys, which he had dropped on the end table beside the couch.

"Leaving already?" she asked, folding her arms and leaning in the doorway.

"Thinking about it."

"Do you work tomorrow?"

"No. I just got a lot to get done."

There was a moment of silence where Chris didn't move to actually grab his keys, leaving Jill to take in the discontent emitting off her former partner.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Chris turned his head. Jill realized this was the first time he looked directly at her all evening. "Fine. Why?"

She shrugged. "You haven't been yourself all night."

He turned back to look at his keys, but didn't pick them up and didn't say anything.

Now, Jill was beginning to feel frustrated as she began to suspect there was a problem, and it felt like she somehow had instigated it. "I haven't seen or heard from you in weeks, and you haven't been talking to me when last time I saw you it was hard to even get you to leave."

"Well maybe I just got wise, Jill." His tone quickly became confrontational even though it almost sounded like he was trying to keep that from happening, yet the sheer strength of the emotion behind it refused to stay hidden as the words allowed it the mode for escape. "It took me eleven years, but I finally got it."

"What do you mean?"

"It happened in STARS, when Sheva and I pulled that thing off your chest, and again a few weeks ago. . . ."

Jill was too confused to respond, not having any idea where her companion was going with all this, and her bewildered expression goaded Chris to continue.

"And I got it then," said Chris finally turning to fully face her. "I understood with us being partners that it probably wasn't the best idea, but I thought with Africa that things might have changed, but even when they didn't, I could still understand why."

"Understand what? And what does Africa have to do with anything?"

"Just tell me something, Jill. If I had disappeared for three years after having thrown myself off a cliff to save you, not knowing if I had died, and then re-appeared all brainwashed and tortured, what would that have done to you?"

"Well – I don't know," struggled Jill. "I mean, I would have been worried, but relieved when I found you."

"Would you have thought about me at all those three years?"

"Of course!"

"Hardly."

"No! A lot! What the hell are you driving at, Chris?" She couldn't help but be angry now.

"Sheva and I get that damn thing off your chest, and I'm trying to take care of you, and you just push me off and tell me to go after Wesker, like I'm not supposed to be affected by the fact that not only did I find you alive, but that you had been tortured and experimented on for three years. I did nothing but take on missions in search of you! The whole reason I even went to Africa after Irving was because I was looking for some kind of lead as to where you were, and Africa was one of the last places I hadn't gone to. Irving was dead, and I kept on to find you and bring you home. After that, my mission was done as far as I was concerned. Wesker could wait!"

"No, he couldn't. He was about to spread Uroboros, and I told you that!"

"But you refused to even come with us! You wouldn't even give me the relief that I could see you okay in front of me!"

"I only would have slowed you down. I fainted right after you left."

"Oh really?" rejoined Chris, pulling back on his anger so he could more logically argue his point. "And so you and Stone just pirated the transmission feed and obtained a chopper as easy as that?"

And Jill had to admit that it hadn't been any kind of walk in the park. She and Josh Stone had fought waves of all types of majini, even losing their original pilot in the onslaught. How she had managed it when she looked back on it had to have been a stroke of luck, but even still, it hadn't been easy on her. "Well . . . no. We did have to fight our way through, but what does that or anything have to do with why you're mad at me?"

"It's because we're not even partners anymore so there isn't a legitimate reason, but you're still doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away!"

Jill Valentine was completely taken aback by those words. All her own anger from Chris' accusations left her entirely. Even words escaped her. Everything left.

Redfield looked away from her eyes, which were wide with bewilderment and almost looked scared. He knew he was admitting too much in a way he never had before, but he had once thought certain things would have been obvious to her, and maybe they were. Maybe that was why she was actively trying to be rid of him. He took a breath. His tone became quiet. "After everything we've been through with each other, I thought when I'd brought you home, you'd stay with me. Even after they said you couldn't be a field agent anymore, there was no reason for you to move out, in fact it'd be better for you if you didn't . . . but you did anyway."

Feeling sympathetic, but still missing the most important part of what he was trying to say, Jill passively walked up to Chris, and gently touched his arm. "I-I didn't mean for you to take it that way. I just thought eventually, you'd prefer things back to how they'd always been."

Chris shook his head. "You don't know what those three years did to me. And when we freed you from the P-30, you only seemed relieved to be rid of it. You didn't . . ." He sighed from frustration and looked away for a second. "You didn't . . . ."

"I didn't what?" Jill asked softly. She found she could only keep her eyes cast toward the floor, knowing that it would be too hard to look into his.

Chris Redfield normally wasn't a man of words, and certainly wasn't fond of having to match them adequately with intense, tumultuous emotions that he also didn't care to be feeling. He was much more comfortable with expressing himself and what he needed Jill Valentine to understand through actions, and there was virtually only one that could even come close.

It took Jill by surprise enough for her to resist it at first, but a split second later, she found she couldn't help but melt into the soft but passionate kiss he gave her, or the strong arms wrapping around her that pulled her closer to him than she had been to any other human being. She brought her arms around his shoulders, bringing him even closer as much as it was possible, and soon she wasn't just receiving his kiss as much as she was giving it back to him. Jill wasn't aware of the tears that fell from her eyes brought on by the kiss or Chris' closeness, and she wouldn't have even been able to guess why they were there, but a locked and secluded place in her heart, formed from great emotional pain that was finally being healed, understood them.

Chris eventually pulled away and let her rest her head on his chest while he nestled his face into her hair and quietly held her. A wash of peace came over Jill, yet the intensity of the kiss left her feeling light-headed. She was thankful for the steadying sound of Chris' heartbeat. Something inexplicable inside her smiled. She slowly exhaled.

"So what happens next?" she softly asked.

"Marry me," he said. "It's the only way I can never lose you again."

She blinked several times, half wondering if she heard him correctly, but somehow not being surprised by his words. It was just for the sheer sake of protocol she felt she had to say what she did next. "Shouldn't we date or something first?"

"We know each other too well for that. We'd be going backwards."

Jill knew he was right. "When?"

"As soon as possible. . . . Tomorrow."

For many other couples, that would be far too soon, but for them, it was overdue. It seemed like nearly every moment of their past together was culminating into just this one moment.

". . . Okay," she said, pulling him a little closer.

And it would be a long time before either of them found they could break away from the embrace.

The next day, neither Chris Redfield nor Jill Valentine were due at BSAA headquarters, but they both were there. The resident chaplain, Father Bailey, was pleasantly surprised to find himself saying a very private wedding instead of heading to the hospital wing to administer the usual viaticum or perform an anointing. Wanting to keep it quiet for the time being, Barry Burton and Rebecca Chambers were the only people asked to be witnesses, chosen specifically for their involvement in the Special Tactics and Rescue Service that had first brought Chris and Jill together eleven years prior. Perhaps not-so oddly enough, neither Burton nor Chambers seemed shocked by this sudden change of events.

After the short ceremony, the newly married couple went back to Valentine's apartment, packed several boxes, and drove back to the original home she had once she came back from Kijuju, which was no longer solely Redfield's apartment once again.

"I guess this is kind of a pain in the ass having to move back here so soon afterwards," observed Jill as she shoved some boxes out of the way.

"Yeah, but we won't have to move some of the big things 'cause you won't need them anymore," said Chris.

"Like what?"

"Well . . . your bed for example."

"Yeah, I guess not," she replied biting her lip contemplatively and looking at the boxes.

"What do you mean, you guess not?"

"I was just thinking . . . we kinda decided and did this all so fast that I don't want you to feel obligated to live or act a certain way."

Chris looked steadily at Jill for a full second before he replied. "Are you trying to frustrate me?"

She was too concerned about her point to understand his meaning. "It's just, we've been partners a long time, and I know how impulsive you can be. I just want you to know that I will 'respect your space', you know?" She looked at him with passive eyes that hoped he understood her insinuation, and would take the option freely, if he so wished.

Chris rubbed his eyes and temples with one hand as though the mere suggestion of that option was giving him a headache. He put his hand down and breathed in deeply. "Okay," he stated resolutely. Before anything else could be done, he took Jill's arm, placing it around his neck, and picked her up, carrying her down the hallway.

"What-what are you doing, Chris?"

"I wanna show you something."

"Like what?"

"Oh you know, some magic tricks."

Jill was mildly confused, but only up until a few moments after Chris had carried her into the bedroom, closed the door, and proceeded to tenderly demonstrate how unconcerned he was about having enough personal space as well as educate her on several meanings behind his euphemism.

DECEMBER 21st, 2012

Captain Chris Redfield was finishing attaching the last few articles of equipment onto his vest. He picked up his firearm from his locker, checked it and placed it into its holster. He checked his vest pockets a second time to make sure the extra ammunition and miscellaneous tools were there. He was grateful to have the necessary but mundane task of gearing up before embarking with his unit to Edonia; it kept his mind occupied just enough to keep the voices away, and he hadn't the luxury of not hearing them for three weeks now.

"Hey soldier," came very familiar feminine tones whose softness somehow managed to crash through the militant drone of mission specifics playing in Chris' head. He looked up to find his wife, Jill, casually leaning against her shoulder, arms protectively folded across her chest, on a locker several feet away.

"Hey," said Chris looking away as he brusquely re-adjusted the strap on his gloves.

The source of the voices that began three weeks ago slowly made her way over to him. "I was afraid I wasn't going to get to see you before you go."

"Must've gotten lucky then."

"Must have," said Jill quietly. "Christmas isn't going to be the same without you."

"Did Claire say when she was getting in?" he quickly asked, not wanting the tension to mount any more than it already had since Jill appeared.

"The twenty-third. She's upset that she won't get a chance to see you."

"Yeah. . . . Tell her I miss her too."

"All right."

"I gotta go, Jill," he said with finality. He closed the locker door, but something wouldn't let him leave like this. After a beat, he turned to face her, but couldn't quite bring himself to look at her for very long. "Can I at least kiss you in case I don't come back?" The controlled anger in his voice, which was not directed at her, seemed to step aside for the pain she had unintentionally caused.

"Of course."

Almost hesitantly, Chris leaned in and kissed his wife tenderly on the lips. She received him warmly, even reaching up to touch his face, pulling him closer. He put his hands on her waist, resisting the urge to pull her closer as well, only because he knew it would be uncomfortable for her if he pressed her into his utility vest, not realizing the fact that she wouldn't have minded. Affection had been very commonplace between these two, but until three weeks ago, this current moment was the first time they had even touched each other. Chris reluctantly pulled away, but Jill kept his face close in her hands so he couldn't go too far.

"You better come back," she whispered.

He finally looked into her eyes then, and his expression softened, smiling ever so slightly with just his eyes. Hearing those words and feeling what appeared like her wishing him to remain close to her made him begin to think that just maybe their previous altercation wasn't exactly as it seemed. It was possible to him now that whereas things weren't what he thought they were, maybe they were still very close to what to he wanted them to be; he could deal with that. But until he knew for certain, Chris Redfield wouldn't tell his wife he loved her before he left, knowing that she would just reply with the same, and for right now, it would sting too much like a little white lie. Quietly, he backed away from her touch, letting her go.

"Wait," said Jill. "Since I can't be with you this Christmas, take this with you." She pulled something on a chain from her back pocket and placed it in Chris' hand.

He looked down to recognize it as a pendent the BSAA had given Jill as recognition for her services as an SOA when they formerly transferred her from that department into bio-weapons advisory after her physical well-being had become too compromised from the complications of Albert Wesker's experimentation on her.

"I know you have your unit with you," she said, "but this is just to remind you that I'm always your partner."

Chris met her eyes again. He knew Jill well enough to not believe that she'd said those words to mean she was his partner at the cost of being something else to him as her words three weeks ago had intimated. But her words now did remind him of her words from then. He gave a nod and placed the gold pendant and chain into one of the pockets of his utility vest. Resigning himself to the circumstances so he could move on to what he needed to do now, Chris Redfield silently turned and left the locker room.

Jill Redfield wrapped her arms around herself and sighed heavily.

DECEMBER 25TH, 2012

Claire Redfield yawned loudly as she ambled her way down the stairs from the guest room of her brother's house.

"Wow," she said languidly to her sister-in-law, sitting nearby on the couch next to the glittering tree and presents. "This is the first Christmas where I've been able to sleep in without Chris barging into my room, throwing me over his shoulders, and hauling me down here to the couch at seven a.m." She flopped down on the couch beside Jill. "Sure isn't the same without him."

"I know. It's quiet," joked Jill, shifting her eyes and taking a sip from her mug.

Claire looked over at the presents. "Are you going to open yours from Chris?"

"I think I'm gonna wait until he gets home. You should open yours from him though 'cause he won't get back until after you have to leave."

"Right." But Claire didn't move from the couch. It really wasn't the same without Chris.

It took some time, but eventually the Redfield sisters-in-law got down to the task of opening their gifts from each other. It was pleasant, but without the excitement they were used to when Chris was present.

Curiously, the kitchen phone rang.

"Oh! Do you think that could be Chris?" came Claire with some excitement.

"I don't know," replied Jill. "I thought he was still on his mission today. Maybe they finished a day early?" She quickly got up and half ran to the kitchen to answer the phone.

As soon as it sounded from the tone in Jill's voice that it wasn't Chris, Claire took to picking up the wrapping paper from the floor. She stopped abruptly when she began to pick up on the anxiety that had seeped into Jill's voice. She was stone-still when she heard her sister-in-law's voice become louder with panic.

"Why didn't you notify me sooner?!" Jill was beginning to pace the kitchen floor now as she listened to the all too-collected voice of the BSAA operative on the other end. "Well, where is he? Is he still there? In Edonia?" Troubled, Claire silently padded into the kitchen to see Jill's hand shaking as she held it over her mouth while listening to the operative as if to keep herself just steady enough to refrain from crying. "How soon can you get me there?" She obviously didn't like the answer she heard. "Well . . . fine, then! When are you bringing him back to the States?" She seemed to like that answer even less. "My husband is grievously injured, lying unconscious in a hospital in Edonia somewhere, and you can't even . . . all right, all right, all right," she seemed to say in frantic futility, knowing that she wasn't getting anywhere. "Just keep me posted. Every hour on the hour until –" she was interrupted "- all right, fine! Whatever!" She hung up the phone angrily, and a second later, she was crying.

"What happened?" Claire was fighting very hard to not become panicked.

Jill sniffled and tried to control her sobbing. "Yesterday, Chris and his team fell into some trap. His team's dead except for his second. The rest were turned into some kind of new bio-weapons. One of them got a hold of Chris and beat him pretty badly, caused some kind of brain injury. He's stable, they think he'll be okay, but they won't know the extent of the TBI until he wakes up."

"Oh, thank God he's at least alive!" said Claire folding Jill into a sisterly embrace partially to comfort her but partially to steady herself after fearing the worst from hearing bits of the conversation.

"I know. I know," came Jill through some sobs. "They won't let me go to Edonia because of the nature of the mission, and they won't be transporting him back to the States until they know more about his brain injury."

"When will that be?"

"They don't know."

"What do they know?"

Jill started to calm down a little now that the initial shock and fear had begun to ebb. "They know that his brain is functioning with his internal systems normally, but he keeps slipping in and out of consciousness and doesn't seem to know where he is or remember what happened."
Claire let go of Jill and helped her to the kitchen table. "What about the other injuries?"

"They're bad, but not permanent." She put her head in her hands. "He's in a lot of pain when he's conscious." She sniffled again.

Claire went and got Jill another mug and poured her sister-in-law as well as herself a cup of coffee. She returned to the table, sliding Jill her mug before sitting down. "So, Chris is basically in stable condition, badly in pain – but stable, sustained a TBI, but they don't know how bad, they won't let you go to him, but they're not transporting him to a hospital here either, and they don't know when anything is going to happen and can't tell you something you can do to help him or yourself?"

"Yep," rejoined Jill with much irritation seeping into her voice.

"What are they? Crack-stupid?"

Jill shook her head in disbelief of the entire situation, not wanting to deem Claire's question with an answer.

"So the BSAA isn't telling us much. What about Chris' second?"

"I didn't think to ask about him," Jill admitted. "I know he pulled Chris out of the building, and that he survived, but I wasn't exactly thinking straight enough to ask about him."

"We could find out easily enough who he is though, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I think we need to find him and have a little chat with the man."

Jill slowly nodded in agreement, her head full of today's news and trying not to wonder if her dispute with Chris had been on his mind when all this came to pass yesterday.

Nothing more could be done the day Jill found out about Chris' incident with it being a major holiday, but she would only have to wait a couple of days later to be able to find out and locate her husband's second-in-command. She wasn't surprised when she found the young man's name, being slightly certain she'd heard Chris mention him before.

Jill had Claire come with her to the hospital wing of BSAA headquarters, where Piers Nivens was recuperating with minor injuries and a broken leg.

Piers was young, but that was a fact shadowed by a face with a natural scowl that juxtaposed his lack of years. But anyone would have seen the look of mild confusion he gave to his nurse when she had told him that he had visitors since his family had just left. He became nearly nervous when he saw Jill.

"Jill Valentine!" He sat up straighter as much as he could despite his leg being elevated. "Er . . . I mean – Mrs. Redfield. I'm honored."

"It's all right, Piers. You can relax," she said gently. "It's okay if I call you 'Piers'?"

"Of course."

Jill turned toward Claire. "This is Claire, Chris' sister."

"Hey." Claire leaned forward and offered Nivens her hand.

He shook it almost as nervously as when he saw Jill, now knowing the importance of the redheaded woman. Piers Nivens knew of Jill from her notable roles in the BSAA as well as her partnership with Chris, and their dedication together to bring down Umbrella. They both were his heroes. And he knew of Chris' sister, not just from his captain, but also for her involvement in the history of the fight against bio-terrorism. The two things he didn't anticipate were their visit in the hospital that day, and that they would be so beautiful in person. Both their clout and their looks made him wish he was more presentable instead of lounging in a hospital bed with a broken leg and no shirt on.

"May we sit down?" Jill asked. "We need to ask you some questions."

"Please," he replied.

"First," Jill began, "I want to thank you for saving my husband's life."

"No problem," stated the young, but hard face.

"And second, we need you to tell us what happened that day."

"What did the BSAA tell you?"

"Little to nothing," said Claire. "Just the bare facts."

"How is Chris doing?" asked Piers. Although his face was hard, it was easy to see the concern in his eyes.

"We don't really know," said Jill. "They give me updates, but they won't let me go to him. They haven't even brought him home yet."

"He's still in Edonia?" Nivens appeared slightly shocked.

Both Jill and Claire nodded.

"That's why we wanted to ask you about it," rejoined Claire. "We're looking for anything that could help fill in the gaps."

"I'd like to be able to sleep tonight, Piers," said Jill, half-joking. "I'm not asking you to try to get us to Edonia somehow, but it was easy to find you, and I just want to worry a little less about my husband's condition if possible."

"I'll bet," replied Piers. He cleared his throat to gather his thoughts. "Well, we were just about to start the second phase of the mission. We scoped the building, finding some strange crystal formations, not realizing what they were yet. We quickly dispatched some B.O.W.s and continued through, until we found this woman . . . she called herself, Ada Wong. . . ."

"Ada Wong?" Claire sat up.

"You know her?" asked Jill.

"Not really. Name's really familiar though. I-I think Leon Kennedy knew her or something. It was all right after the Raccoon City infection. I came to find Chris after I heard some weird shit had gone on, and met Leon. He and I found Sherry Birkin and got separated several times. I think he mentioned an Ada Wong then."

"Well, that figures," scoffed Piers dourly. "Did this Leon guy say what happened to her, or what her business was?"

"No," replied Claire. "As a strange matter of fact, he said she died."

"Well, she was very much alive when we met her. In fact, she was the one that killed our men. Infected them with the C-virus."

"I'm sure the BSAA will fill me in with all this later, Piers, but do you know what the C-virus is?" asked Jill.

"I only know what I saw it do, and it was horrible. She narrowly missed entrapping Chris and me with the rest of the unit, and then she threw this grenade that launched several projectile hypodermics filled with the C-virus. They hit all our men. Next thing we knew, we were watching their bodies melt like napalm and then hardening into those crystal formations I mentioned. Then this large, freaking, angry B.O.W. like, hatched from one of the formations and came after us. It got Chris, slamming him against the wall and pounding on him like a ragdoll. It threw him to the ground. That's how he hit his head. He lost consciousness, and I somehow managed to subdue the creature with firepower and a little ingenuity, but not with much ease as you tell." Piers gesticulated toward his leg.

"The change was instantaneous?" Claire asked.

Jill was beginning to get a very disheartened feeling.

"No," replied Piers. "It wasn't slow, but it was gradual. I would have opened fire sooner, but Chris was in the way."

Jill closed her eyes as the scene was painting a picture that made her heart ache from intimately knowing her husband's thoughts and feelings. But she had to ask the next question for confirmation. "Why didn't Chris open fire on the B.O.W.?"

". . . It was the rookie, ma'am."

A tear rolled down Jill's face. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions under control.

"You . . . obviously know how the Captain is with his men," said Piers commenting on her tears. "He was reaching out for Finn, trying to help him while his flesh was melting."

"I'm sure he was." Jill's voice was husky with sadness and pain for her husband. "He abhors the loss of life. . . . Chris doesn't just look at you boys as under his command; you're under his care."

Now it was Nivens' turn to be affected. He clenched his jaw and swallowed, but he fought any possible tears with enough efficiency to keep them from ever appearing beyond a glassy sheen in his eyes. He flashed back the first time he'd met Captain Redfield. It didn't feel like it had been so long ago when the Captain found Nivens on the targeting range, holding the young man's file.

"They tell me you want to be in my unit, Nivens."

Piers stood at attention. "Yes sir!"

"Says your problem with authority has you labeled as a hot-head," the captain had said looking at the file.

Expecting a lecture on subordination, Nivens tried to stand a little straighter and not look at his superior officer.

But Captain Redfield smiled. "You remind me of myself twelve years ago." He clapped the younger man on the shoulder and said in passing, "You'll do fine."

Piers Nivens would never forget that meeting. Although thinking it awfully freshman of the newer agents to react to the captain like an older brother or a father figure, when he wasn't nearly old enough to be their father, he understood their adoration.

"Mrs. Redfield, when I get out of here, if the situation with Chris hasn't changed, I want to help you any way I can."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," she replied. "I want my husband home as soon as possible."

"I understand."

"Before we go, Piers, I just need to ask you one more question."

The young man nodded.

"Did Chris mention anything to you about his personal life? Like something that might have been weighing him down? Even something about me?"

Claire looked at Jill and cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Chris is always about the mission. He rarely talks about his personal life until afterward, and even then, he doesn't say much specific – just how much he looks forward to going home 'cause that's where you are." Piers cracked a small, brief smile. "You two must've become close from everything you've been through. I imagine it must be hard not being on the field with him."

"It is," said Jill standing from her chair. "I look forward to when he comes home too. Thanks for all your help."

Jill and Claire said their good-byes and thanked Piers again for his cooperation before they left. Jill was quiet on the way home, and Claire waited until they were in the privacy of the kitchen, sitting at the table, holding warm beverages before she began to pry.

"I feel like we went there just so you could ask him that last question."

Jill turned her attention from the icy snow outside the window. "Which question?"

"The one about if Chris had said anything about you that might be bringing him down."

Jill lowered her eyes toward the tabletop, staring through it. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Chris and I had an unresolved fight three weeks before he left."

"A fight?" Claire was incredulous. "I've never known you guys to fight. Maybe bicker a little at times, but not fight."

"Well, it wasn't a fight exactly," she said. "Perhaps a really bad misunderstanding, then."

"About?"

Jill audibly sighed because she knew her answer would shock her sister-in-law. "About whether or not I love him. Something I'd said to him made him start to believe I didn't, and at the time, after I thought about it, I couldn't actually refute it."

"What?" Claire wasn't angry or even shocked for that matter, but rather, even more incredulous than she was before. "That's bullshit. I know for a fact you love my brother. But what the hell made him start to think you didn't? What did you say to him?"

"I don't remember exactly," Jill replied wistfully. "It was something about the difference between love and respect. I had commented on how when a person respects someone greatly, they may do a lot of things for the person they respect that are similar to actions they'd do if they were in love with that person."

Claire furrowed her brows as she was trying to place what she'd heard into context, but felt she was failing. "I'm not sure I'm following."

"Well, Chris and I were partners for a long time. We went through a lot together so there was mutual trust and respect growing between us through it all. We also became very comfortable with each other, especially after he volunteered to take care of me after the Kijuju mission. When he asked to marry me, it was all very sudden; we'd never really gotten to know each other on romantic terms until after we were married. . . ."

While Jill paused to collect more of her thoughts, Claire interjected. "So, you agreed to marry Chris purely out of respect?"

"I . . . I don't know." Jill's eyes became glassy with tears that she refused to let fall after all the crying she'd found herself doing the last few days and the three weeks preceding them. "That sounds right, but it doesn't feel right exactly."

"Okay," the other replied slowly as she wasn't convinced by her sister-in-law's claim. She couldn't help but reflect on the interactions she'd witnessed between her brother and his wife, before they were married and after. What she saw and knew did not just mimic love, nor seem to be performed solely from respect. Claire turned to bio-tragedy counselor mode. "All right, let me ask you some questions. Do you admire my brother?"

"Yes."

"Would you say you adore him?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay. We already know that you're willing to sacrifice your life for his, so whatever you feel for him is intense and honest enough for that, and that by itself is a demonstration of the highest form of love, although not necessarily romantic love." Claire continued, "Do you find Chris physically attractive?"

Jill responded as though her answer to the last question should seem obvious. "Yeah."

"And do you like it when he's physically affectionate with you?"

Jill almost blushed. "Yes. Actually, these last few weeks without him attempting to be were . . . difficult."

"Well, okay," stated Claire. "I don't know why you think that's just respect because that's all the ear markings of truly being in love with someone. If you were just acting from a crazy amount of respect, you wouldn't like being physical with him. I mean, you'd be able to tolerate it, but you probably wouldn't miss it when it was taken away from you for three weeks."

Jill looked down at the table because she was the one that needed the convincing now. "But physical affection has nothing to do with it, really."

"What do you mean?"

The other bit her lip in thought. "My mother was physically 'affectionate' with a lot of men, and she didn't respect any of them."

"Ohh," replied Claire as a light bulb seemed to switch on somewhere in her head, knowing very well Jill's life during her informative years, witnessing her mother turning tricks to desperately make ends meet. "I think I get how this whole mess started now. I think what you're saying without knowing that you're saying it, is that you demonstrate your love through respect." Jill began to look confused, so Claire continued with an example. "There's this statistic that states something like 87% of men would rather be respected than loved. As psychologists and sociologists delved deeper into this, they found that most men separate respect from love, and this produces a problem in a lot of relationships because women don't separate the two. A woman who loves her husband will assume that her husband knows she respects him simply because she loves him, but that same husband could tell you that his wife doesn't respect him because whereas she may act like she loves him, in his mind, she may not act like she respects him. How he interprets her respect can vary a little from relationship to relationship. But as far as you and Chris go, especially from the shit you saw from your mother, you sort of think and act opposite of most women. You do the things you do for Chris thinking that he'll know you love him because you do things out of respect. And because Chris, like most men, separates the two, whenever this whole misunderstanding took place, he already knew you respected him because you were partners, so what he needed to hear was that you love him because you're his wife now."

Jill breathed deeply and slowly nodded her head, not sure if she felt more stupid for the confusion she caused, or relieved that she now had the thorough and true explanation she needed to clarify things to her husband. "That makes perfect sense."

"See," said Claire, matter-of-factly. She took a rather flippant sip of her coffee. "I knew you loved that big, dumb ox."