Author`s Note: While I begin to let my Dragon Age sequel brew, I decided to try my hand again at some Resident Evil fics, which is originally how I started in the fan fiction world and had created my own little insanity for nearly five years until I just reached a point where it was getting bad. And I mean bad. So now I'm trying again, same OC I used previously, but entirely different backstory for her now :) I'm very excited to write about this character again, she has always been a huge part of my writing growing up, so I hope I can redeem her with these new Resident Evil fics. Anyhow with that being said, I originally wrote my fics with Leon being the main interest, but now that I'm a true Aeon believer, I decided to give Chris a turn. However, I haven't decided if I want to enter Chris/OC territory, it may be suggested but I don't know if it'll turn into a full fledge romance. Feedback and opinions would be great, otherwise enjoy !

_one. BAILEY

He had read the report—escalating violence in Edonia, sightings of B.O.W.s. At this rate, Chris had no doubt the B.S.A.A. would be called in to respond and put an end to the civil war now spiraling out of control. Especially if the Edonian Liberation Army had their hands on a bioweapon. Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, he had hoped it would all of ended with Wesker's demise, but even that was wishful thinking. It only took the madness of one man to inspire others, a domino effect that was getting out of hand. The captain buried his face tiredly into the palms of his hands, he needed sleep, but the reports kept coming in. His team would receive the call of duty soon enough.

Chris heard the door to his office open, click silently behind his guest, but the weary soldier didn't bother to lift his head. "Let me guess, more reports?"

"That bad."

It wasn't the familiar tenor of his marksman, or any man currently in the unit. Chris poked his head up from behind his hands, falling silent as his dark eyes widened in surprise. Nothing would have prepared him for this untimely reunion—a woman he hadn't seen in what felt like ages, crooked smile just a little less sly than usual, azure eyes watching him. At some point she had cut her hair, strawberry blonde locks just touching her shoulders, framing a smatter of new freckles across her tanned cheeks. She continued to smile, knowingly.

"You know," her voice was husky from days spent under the African sun, still parched, "Jill managed to fake a smile when she saw me, I was hoping a little more enthusiasm from you."

Chris sat a little straighter, nervously grinning, "I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

"Well," she coed, leaning away from the door and wandering towards his desk, gaze scanning the room, "if I had to listen to Keith hit on me one more time, the East African Branch would be looking for a new Captain." She reached his desk, careful not to disturb the papers already scattered about, resting her hip against the rough edge, "Sheva says 'hi' by the way."

The Captain fell back into his chair, forcing the smile on his face—this was not the same woman who left two years ago. "We've been exchanging e-mails, she said the clean-up went rather smoothly."

Smirking, she looked away and scoffed, "Yes, you two left quite a mess, but Josh really stepped-up and made sure what was left of Uroboros was contained and destroyed. From what I gathered, any B.O.W. they throw at you now should be a piece of cake, no?"

"Bailey," he paused, the name leaving his mouth numb, "What brought you back? There was no mention of you returning so soon, and I was beginning to think you were being permanently relocated to an African branch." Chris treaded carefully, choosing his words with caution. He watched for that habitual angry smirk of hers, but she did nothing. No narrowing of the eyes, or even a flinch. Bailey kept her warm smile and crossed her arms.

"I'd like to think I've learned my lesson," she answered, "bunking with a bunch of sweaty men will do that to a girl. Besides—Quint and I drained everything we could from the facility you and Sheva found, I came back to give what may be my final report." Bailey untucked her arms and gravitated towards Chris, palms flat against the lacquer surface of his desk. He noticed it then, that twinkle of danger in her eye that nearly costed lives half a decade ago. "Come on Chris," her voice was sultry, "the B.S.A.A. can't keep me suspended forever. I'm better out in the field, not behind a desk. Haven't you had your fun punishing me?"

Chris's throat went dry. There was always something about this woman he could never shake, even after two years of no contact. Bailey was contagious in her own way, with marksmanship that rivaled his own and a mean right hook that could knock a man out cold. But it wasn't her skills as a soldier. Her fingers grazed a vanilla folder, gently she moved the item aside, revealing long lines where the shiny finish of the Captain's dark desk was scratched away. The redhead's smirk was unmistakable as she met his tense focus—they both knew if she moved anymore papers there would be more markings to match those she now traced with her black nail. Chris watched her study on him darken as both their thoughts began to wonder, Bailey recoiling from his space as there was a knock at the door. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Captain-" B.S.A.A.'s ace marksman stepped through the opening door, catching himself as he noticed Chris was with company—eyes narrowing as he recognized her. "Is this a bad time?" Piers inquired, never breaking eye-contact with the woman.

Bailey smirked, turning to Chris, "Not at all, I was just leaving. That report isn't going to deliver its self." He saw that unfamiliar smile play across her lips, any resemblance to her former self instantly wiped away. "Captain," she bid farewell, pausing in her exit to stand beside Piers for a moment. "Handsome," Bailey uttered, stroking his clean-shaven chin with the tip of her finger and disappearing through the door before the sniper could react.

Piers Nivans moved closer to Chris's desk, nervously glancing back over his shoulder before passing the Captain a file of papers. "Was that who I think it was?" The marksman was searing from his interaction with Bailey.

Chris stayed silent, his lack of response answer enough. There was no use in swaying Piers's adverse opinion of the agent, she had earned those glares and false pleasantries from her comrades. Nothing he could say would change the fact that half a dozen good men were now dead because of one woman's misguided concept of duty. "This another Edonia report?" the Captain asked, distracting the young soldier and himself from Bailey.

"Yes, sir." Piers replied, although the furrow in his brows proved Chris would be probed for answers another time. "Looks like we'll be moving out sooner than you had hoped."

"Sure does," he begrudgingly agreed. Chris sighed loudly, frustrated at the chaos unfolding in eastern Europe, but thoughts curiously straying to Bailey's abrupt return from Africa.

Bailey wasn't thrilled with being sent to Africa to begin with. She had both verbally and physically expressed her discontent with the B.S.A.A. wasting her time chasing a ghost—or Jessica Sherawat to be more exact, whose location has been unknown since the events of 2005. The agent, whom was suspended from field missions, was aggravated with wasting efforts on a single person when a number of bio-terrorist attacks were taking place. Bailey felt her natural talent as a field operative was being undermined by HQ's headstrong need to remind her of her mistakes, which was why they had sent her to clean-up in Africa for two years. Chris sympathized, HQ surely had a way of making you feel expendable.

The Captain could hear that Piers was talking to him, but it was more of a mumble through one ear and out the other as Chris looked back at the scratch marks on his desk. His gut tightened with a hunch. He should have known Bailey's display of friendly smiles and polite banter was merely a ruse, for she had never smiled in all the years Chris knew her. The redheaded agent smirked and she scowled, but it was almost a personal rule that she never smiled, not even performing a genuine grin when she got engaged her first year in the B.S.A.A. Chris stared into the monitor of his computer, pictures of his sister sliding across the screen as his screensaver started. "Captain-," he heard faintly over the hard thinking, blinking once, "Captain Redfield!"

Piers was leaning over the mass of papers on his desk, waving a worried hand in front of him. Chris turned to him blankly, "I'm sorry Piers, what were you saying?" The sniper looked disappointed but would never say so, instead he shook his head and sighed.

"Did you want me to round-up the team?"

Chris suddenly stood, grabbing his brown leather jacket draped over the back of his chair and hurriedly pulling it on, he needed to be somewhere. "Yeah, sure," he answered his partner, "Give it a day, HQ will have us shipping out to save the day." He clapped Piers on the shoulder and left his office.