AN: Well, folks. I haven't updated in months, but this is what I'm dropping out into the filth that is my collection of fics. (They're all old, and terrible. Don't go in there.)
Since this is what came out of months of school-induced writer's block, you are all entitled to read this and go: "What the shit."
Have a lovely day.

Jill's eyes fluttered open, closing again in the sunlight filtering through the open window next to her bed. She waited for the sensitivity to fade. When she could open her eyes again, she noticed something. The bathroom door across the room was wide open, a large corner of the maroon mat on the floor was folded back, and her stack of library books on the nightstand lay sprawled across the floor.

Jill really didn't think anything of it. Hell, could've been the cat, for all she knew. She was not a morning person, and wasn't going to play detective before breakfast. The mystery of the fallen library books, open door, and folded mat would have to wait until she was mentally competent again.

She flipped the covers off, and slowly climbed out of the bed what she guessed was roughly five minutes later. Still in zombie mode, she didn't really bother thinking about the time. Mornings just wiped Jill's mind. In fact, today seemed worse than usual.

Stumbling into the bathroom, she noticed steadily more things out of place. Number one; there were towels thrown on the laundry hamper that she definitely hadn't put there. She'd done the wash yesterday, which was why every towel (or so she had thought, up until now) was still in the dryer. She sighed as she realized that the forogotten towels were probably wrinkled now.

Out of the ordinary thing number two; The shower curtain was halfway rung down, hanging off the metal rings that were still left. There were no scratches. Jill grabbed the end of the plastic curtain and wrung it up once more. She didn't have the patience to attach all the metal rings and left it pathetically hanging there, too tired to care.

Finally, possibly the weirdest of the three, the toilet seat was up. That was DEFINITELY not her or the Fritz. The cat was (for now) off the suspect list. However, that meant she was out of suspects.

"Screw it." The brunette said to herself, grabbing her toothbrush from the sink rim. Maybe she'd done strange stuff while sleepwalking or something, it wasn't like it was impossible. Knocking down a stack of books was normal enough, but ripping down curtains and leaving toilet seats up was... weird, considering Jill didn't sleepwalk. For her peace of mind, Jill omitted that fact from her theory.

Brushing, she observed her frizzy hair and baggy t-shirt in the mirror. She quickly finished with her teeth, took one look at her hair, and deemed it a hopeless case. After resorting to putting in a headband to keep it out of her eyes, she shuffled back out of the small bathroom, past the bedroom, and into her hallway.

Nothing was different here.

"Good." Jill yawned, rubbing her eyes, and started walking. She stopped, however, as a familiar smell hit her nostrils.

Coffee.

What.

This was impossible. Things could be out of place, but she definitely couldn't make coffee in her sleep. Absolutely impossible... a burglar or thug wouldn't stop to get refreshment. She hadn't gone out last night, she hadn't drunken anything- there was no way she'd brought someone home.

Maybe Rebecca had needed a place to stay and used the key under the flowerpot outside..? She thought about if for a moment.

Rebecca didn't drink coffee.

Retreating to her room as quickly as possible, Jill dug through her dresser, reaching to the back of the sock drawer. Repressing total panic, she pulled out a gun with a single, shaking hand. Things were about to get very serious.

Creeping down the hallway, she was careful to avoid the creaking spots in the floor. Pausing at the door to the kitchen, listening for noises, it was clear someone was inside. The sound of a paper gently rustling as someone turned the pages could be heard, the clack of a coffee mug being placed on the table echoing loudly. Maybe a madman had broken in and thought this was his house.

Maybe.

She felt as though her loudly beating heart would betray her any moment, as though it were audible throughout the entire house. With a deep breath, Jill tried to calm herself. Everything was about keeping a clear head. There had to be a good reason someone was in her kitchen, right?.. It was quiet.

Too quiet.

With a slam, she burst through the kitchen door, blue eyes wild.

She froze.

Wesker lowered the paper as Fritz jumped off his lap, waddling over to Jill. He sat at her paralyzed feet, wiggling his fluffy grey tail. She didn't notice. For a moment, no one moved.

Fritz broke the silence with a whiny meow.

"...Is it the shower curtain you're upset about?" Wesker said casually, cocking an eyebrow and taking another sip of the coffee mug in his hand which read EAT CAKE AND MOVE ON. Jill tried to speak, but couldn't find any words to react to Albert Wesker sitting in her kitchen, drinking out of her mug, and petting her cat like he lived there.

She managed a small squeak. He shrugged.

"It was an accident. I slipped." She still couldn't speak.

"You oughta get some adhesive stuff for the floor of that thing." Jill dropped the gun.

"Oh, and I fed the cat, so don't bother." He said, downing the last of his coffee and folding the newspaper. Jill could only stare with her mouth hanging open as he placed the mug in the dishwasher and left the newspaper on the counter, completely oblivious to her shock. Without batting an eye, he walked past her and down the hall into the living room. The cat followed him.

As Jill heard the opening theme of Wife Swap blaring from the TV a few moments later, she fainted.

Jill sat up ramrod straight in her bed, drenched in cold sweat.

"Jesus Christ..." She whispered, cringing.

Worst nightmare she'd had in a while. She could see the mental issues this was going to cause at work already, all the uncomfortable moments... groaning, she fell back against the sheets, one hand clasped over both eyes.

Slowly, she began to relax, remembering that it was the weekend and she wouldn't have to see his face again until Monday. She had the whole weekend to cope. She began to fall asleep again, easing back into a gentle sleep.

Her alarm clock went off loudly and she jolted once more, slamming a fist violently down upon the clock. After a second blow, Jill found the snooze button. She tried to lie down again, but something on her night table caught her eye.

As Jill gazed disbelievingly at the pair of dark sunglasses atop her stack of library books, she noticed for the first time the soft sound of voices from the TV in the living room.

"Next week, on Wife Swap..."

This is a crackfic, obviously.
Damn, I wish I'd find an Albert Wesker in my kitchen too.