A/N: i don't own Resident Evil. Sadly. This is a love story - it's fairly smutty. I just want to prepare the reader. Lemon ahead. I tend to enjoy Jill and Leon as a highly sexual pairing. Thank you for reading!

Love and other Drugs

Part One:

Addiction

You meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you. And then you meet one person and your life is changed...forever.

― Love and Other Drugs

Raccoon City - 1998

She was running late that morning. She dropped her keys in the toilet while brushing her teeth and had to fish them out. She burned her neck curling her hair. She poked herself in the eye with her mascara. She didn't move out of the way of the slamming fridge door while making something to eat and almost became a Jill sandwich while making a sandwich. The irony of that would not have been lost on her.

She got caught up watching the early morning news and forgot to get in the shower on time. Her alarm clock lost power overnight in the rainstorm. Her little motorbike kept being a pain in the ass about firing up. And traffic was backed up because of the 100 Days of Umbrella festival rejoicing in the influx of business brought about by Umbrella Pharmaceuticals building the production plant at the edge of town.

She raced up the stairs of the RPD station almost late for work. Captain Wesker, damn his eyes, didn't miss a trick. She'd been late on her first day. He'd made her very aware of the fact that it would not be tolerated. He was snooty, yes, and very strict. But he had a way of making you feel about three inches tall as well.

She raced through the lobby of the RPD, holding her helmet under her arm. She pocketed her keys as she ran and missed. They tumbled out of her hand, hit the floor, spun in a circle and were kicked by a walking man into the far corner.

He kept on walking.

"Thanks a lot dude!" She shouted snidely at the guys fat ass as she raced over to get them. She muttered under her breath, "Asshat."

Jill Valentine was notoriously late for everything. She had been most of her life. It was perpetrated by a father that didn't know how to even be remotely on time. If he showed up at all of course. Henri-Louis Valentin was seldom, if ever, around when you needed him. She hadn't heard from him in years. Being in lock up all the time tended to impact your relationships and making it home for Christmas. Landing stateside a French immigrant, Henri tried to Americanize his name and added the E to the end. And so, a brief fling later with her mother Noriko – a Japanese dancer in New York long enough to birth a baby and run away, Jillian-Aime Valentine was born.

Henri was a terrible father. He did the best he could, in some ways. He was lazy and self-centered and above the law. So he often times stole or lied or cheated those around him. More than once, she woke up to find him having gotten his ass kicked by someone he'd grifted and gotten caught while doing it. He did seem to love her. He spoiled her with love when he could and educated her with books and bedside speeches. He was smart and stupid and flawed. He was in and out of jail and Jill ended up in foster homes most of her youth. He'd get her out and run her around and they'd sleep in trucks and trailers and have great adventures. He'd go back in lock up and she'd go back to group living and school.

She was smart as a whip and quick on her feet. He taught her how to bleed a bastard with her little knife and crack open safes like a professional. She loved him. And it was real and painful love. Because he was a terrible, awful, failure of a father. She'd have loved, just once, to wake up in a suburban bedroom and been normal.

Her keys were picked up by a person sitting in "chairs." Chairs were where they kept prisoners waiting to be processed and where new recruits waited for an interview. She'd spent two torturous hours in chairs her first day here bored off her ass until Chris Redfield had shown up. She'd spent the next two laughing.

The person in chairs was young and handsome. He offered her keys to her with a charming, disarming, and slightly dorky smile. He was thin, tall, and had a long ponytail tied back from a cute face that was all sharp angles and high cheekbones. The eyes were husky blue and rather haunting.

She grabbed her keys from his hand. "Thanks, dude. Good luck on your interview, yeah? Just remember, don't panic. Chief Irons likes confidence. Pretend you're James Bond and you'll be golden like a shower."

"Awesome. Thanks."

God, he was young. She was barely in her twenties, this was true. But this kid was fresh out of high school young. He still had baby written all over him. He reminded her of Rebecca Chambers on Bravo Team. She offered him another little something for his chivalry: she tossed him her S.T.A.R.S. zippo lighter.

He caught it, lifting a brow.

"For when all the other lights go out my friend. Trust me…it'll happen. You can never have too much light dude. True story." And she hurried up the stairs to the S.T.A.R.S. office.

A few weeks later would find her trapped in the first real fight of her life. The Spencer Estate was waiting for them to walk in, run, hide and almost die fighting to get out. In the lobby of the RPD that day, she'd met the other side of that long night. Leon S. Kennedy interviewing for the only night he'd ever serve on the RPD police force. A baby maybe but a hero not long after.

And the light she'd given him saved his life more than once over that long night.

Outside the Clock Tower - July 1998

Her bike wouldn't start. She'd kick-started it, kicked it, and done her best to attempt to coo at it so it would get moving. However, the damn thing was convinced it had reached the end of its life.

Annoyed, Jill suffered the outrageous heat for another handful of minutes while she decided what to do. She could hoof it back to the station and get Redfield to loan her his truck. She could walk home - in one hundred degrees heat at high noon. She could walk to the local pool and hang out in the water with the rest of the city.

She watched kids run and play in the heat by the tower, jumping through the water spouts provided by Raccoon for the locals to enjoy the park in the boiling heat.

While she was trying to pick her poison, there was a rustle behind her. She turned, on edge, and paused with her hand halfway to her shoulder holster. Hands raised, he stepped into the flicker of sunlight that dappled from the tree cover above her.

White t-shirt, jeans, snappy little leather brown leather sandals. He looked charming and harmless. "Gonna shoot me?"

In her blue tube top and skirt paired with knee-high black leather boots, Jill was still boiling in the heat. Sweat slid down her throat as she mused, "Maybe. Aren't you boiling in those jeans?"

He shrugged and shifted toward her. "Not really. I grew up spending tons of time in Florida with my grandparents. I have a house in Arizona. The heat doesn't bother me."

Jill tilted her head, observing him as he came toward her. His hair was tied back in a stubby little ponytail at the base of his skull. It was some shade of blonde. What did they call that? Dirty dishwater?

Aloud, Jill asked, "Do you often accost girls in the park on summer days?"

His brows arched and she paused with the toothpick between her lips that she was rolling around while she attempted, for the eighth time, to quit smoking. Nice brows. Thick. Charming. Dark. Over eyes the same shade of the water she'd seen once on a whale watching trip in Alaska. Pale. Pretty. Almost sky blue

He returned, "Only cute ones."

Oh. Her mouth winged up into a smile. "...really? You're gonna flirt with me while I stand here melting?"

He shrugged and answered, "It lets me watch that sweat run down into your cleavage while you laugh at me, so I'm ok with it."

Jill's teeth flashed in a grin. "Ok, handsome. You win the jackpot. Cocky kids in white t-shirts get to help me fix this piece of shit. You game?"

"Oh, I'm game." The guy moved closer to her, paused, and mused, "You gonna taser me if I get too close?"

"I seem like that type?"

"Actually, no. You seem like the type to knee me in the balls instead."

Jill laughed, audibly, loudly, and with a good amount of good humor. "Oh, we must have met before."

He was poking around on her bike with clinks of metal as he responded, "We have actually." She watched his arms bunch in his t-shirt and stared at his ass as he bent over to tug on other parts of her bike, "You gave me a lighter and some pretty solid advice once."

Oh. Ohhhhhh.

Jill snapped her fingers in memory, "Right. Right. Right. Rookie?"

"Coming this fall, yeah." He ducked down further to look under the bike. She bobbed her brows in appreciation at his cute little butt in those faded old jeans he was wearing, "S.T.A.R.S. right? Valentine?"

Impressed, Jill nodded as he rolled to his back and she got to see a glimpse of his belly when his shirt hiked up. Nice. Flat. Toned. He was thin, sure, but he was sleek. Like a runner. Or a swimmer. "That's right. Jill Valentine. You?"

Her eyes slid down to his crotch and studied the bulge there without any shame at all as he answered from beneath her bike, "Kennedy. I'm hoping to get to S.T.A.R.S. eventually, actually. Any more helpful tips?"

Jill thought: You might want to sleep your way to the top.

Amused at her sheer feminine interest, she returned, "Pick your battles. Being a rookie is hard enough. Stand out enough to get good attention, but don't become an ass kisser. The other rookies will not play nice if you try to steal their thunder."

Kennedy leaned out from under the bike. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely."

"Thanks." He sounded genuinely grateful for the advice, "You've got a dirty carburetor. Any chance you have a phillips head screwdriver on ya?"

She laughed, "Sure. It's tucked into my top."

Kennedy stuck his head back out from under the bike. He considered her and finally replied, "...you want me to get it?"

Jill laughed and kicked his flank gently. "Perv. Any chance of getting it to run?"

"Nope." Kennedy slid out from under the bike and Jill offered him a hand up. He took it and wiped the grease on his hands on his jeans. "Sorry. This baby is parked here until further notice. But I can give you a lift to the hardware store to get what we need to fix her. If you're game."

Jill rolled her tooth pick in her teeth. Kennedy. Why was that familiar? "Sure. You promise not to rape me?"

He chuckled, eyes twinkling, "...absolutely. However, I don't promise not to oogle you."

He was kinda adorable. Why was his damn name ringing bells?

With a snap of her fingers, she pointed at him and laughed, "Kennedy! Riiiight. The wiz kid! The boy wonder! The kid who never misses."

He rolled his eyes as he tugged his keys out of his pocket, "I prefer to answer to Leon."

She fell into step beside him as they moved toward the street. He chirped the release on his keys and a black Jeep flashed to signal it was open. The sides were missing in typical summer fashion. Jill gripped the top and swung into the passenger seat.

Simple. Not a flashy Jeep at all. Big tires. Stick shift. Classic steering column. Nothing over the top for the wiz kid, apparently.

He swung up beside her and gunned the engine. They moved swiftly into traffic and he shifted gears without thinking about it. Effortless, muscle memory, she liked a guy who knew his way around a manual transmission.

As the wind whipped their hair and tugged pieces loose of his in a charming way, Jill called above the engine and the breeze, "With scores like I saw, you could have your pick of precincts."

He shrugged a shoulder. Jill asked, "Why Raccoon?"

Kennedy glanced at her and back at the road. He smirked and finally laughed, "I like the scenery."

Jill's teeth flashed in another grin, "You are just all kinds of fucking charming, aren't you?"

"You tell me." He winked at her and had her reaching over to rub his arm.

"It ever work?"

Leon shrugged again, "First time for everything, right?"

Jill studied his profile as he drove. He was so handsome. Thinner than she usually liked, but that was just his build. He was tall, young, and had enough common sense to take the sides of his Jeep in summer. He was charming and perfect white teeth.

So, she answered, "Yep. You wanna go back to my apartment and rape me?"

He nearly swerved off the road as he whipped his head to look at her and forgot to keep driving. She grabbed the wheel to keep them from flipping over and straightened them out, her eyes twinkling madly with amusement, "Easy, handsome. Need some help driving?"

He gripped the wheel and rolled the Jeep over to the curb by J's Bar. She glanced at it, back at him, and pursed her lips. "You wanna get drunk first?"

And he said, "Nope. I live above the bar."

Jill leaped from the Jeep as he did. They moved around the side of the bar and took a set of rusty steps up to a metal door above the bar. As he reached to unlock it, he told her, "I'm half convinced I'm gonna get you in here and you'll knee me in the balls."

He slid the key in the lock, she moved against his back and slid her hand down his belly into his pants, and the door pushed inward with a groan of metal hinges. Jill's fingers closed around his dick and she cooed, breathlessly, "...I love a man who's ready to go."

He was rock hard in her fist.

Leon's hands shot out to grip the railing as she pumped him inside his jeans. His zipper got Jill's other hand as it hissed and released, giving her more room to roll his erection in her palm. As an afterthought, she noticed his boxers were a nice shade of blue.

Pushing against his back, she guided them into the apartment. The door stayed wide open as he staggered, put his hands on the wall beside the door and she stuck to him like a parasite, pumping her fist until he was weeping all over her fingers.

With a grunt, he finally pulled her hand off him and turned. She laughed, he gruffed, "You want me to go before you?"

And she was still laughing as he picked her up under her armpits, kicked the door shut, and carried her down the hallway. Their mouths crushed together, tongue and sucking. He shoved her against the wall and reached up under her skirt to rub at her over her panties.

Jill moaned as he smeared the wet fabric against her engorged lips beneath it, finding her clit and forcing the silk to roll against it until her thighs trembled. Aloud, Jill gasped, "...oh, fuck."

And Leon grunted, "Yeah?"

Her high pitched whine was her answer. He shoved her panties to the side to put two fingers in her. She gasped, he fingered her crudely and roughly, and she rocked against his invading digits. When she was close, thighs quaking and soaking his thrusting hand, he jerked her away from the wall and half carried her under his arm into the bedroom.

Wide open, all windows and sunlight, the room was inviting. She didn't see any of it. She clicked off her holster to toss it on the floor as he carried her. Her gun made a heavy clunk sound as it hit the concrete.

He threw her toward the bed. Jill laughed, landing on her face, and Leon jerked her hips up toward him. Her skirt made a sound of ripping seams as he yanked it up her hips and barred her thong to the sunlight.

Gasping, half laughing, nearly face down on the mattress, Jill asked, "You think we should stop?"

And his teeth sank into her left ass cheek.

He might as well have stuck a shock rod into her ribs. Jill keened, his hand grabbed her thong and jerked, and the ripping fabric sounded so loud against their panting. His fingers thrust sharply into her again, one, two, three while he worked her body open. She could barely breathe with each gasping cry.

Leon slid against her back and over it, he grabbed her hair to turn her head to the side and kissed her so wetly that she couldn't do anything but shake beneath him, and she mewled madly when his hand caught her tube top to tug it down and release her bare breasts to dangle down as he fucked her body with his unrelenting fingers.

Leaning back, Leon shoved her skirt up until it was mostly a belt around her middle. He reached over his head to tug his shirt off and toss it away. His fingers slid out of her and he curled over her back again, slipping his hands down her sweaty torso to palm her breasts. She gasped, shaking with need from the change of pace from desperate and dying, to slow and torture.

His hands gently shaped her tits, rolling the softness until her nipples peaked. His fingers plucked her nipples, his teeth nipped at her back. Jill gasped, high pitched and needy, "Hey...hey...I'm up here."

Leon's hand slid into her hair again to turn her head to him. And she demanded, "Kiss me. Now."

He did, hoarsely chuckling until their mouths sealed. He moaned, softly, and she swallowed that down while she dined on his tongue. When he let go of her mouth to lean back and lick a wet line down her spine, Jill mewed, "Holy hell. You sure you're a rookie?"

Leon laughed and answered, "Told you I should be S.T.A.R.S."

She gasped out a laugh, he shoved into her waiting body so hard her teeth clacked, she screamed so loud it echoed, and his hand came down to slap against her pert ass. It stung. It felt great. It spurred her on like a racehorse.

His hands gripped her hips to guide her into him. He fucked her fast and hard until her body started to make wet slurping sounds as she opened to let him deeper. Tremors sit into her flesh, spilling her upper body down onto the bed with her ass up in the air for him to use. He grunted, he groaned, he growled like some kind of animal and made her whine in answer.

His thumb hooked into her ass and she jerked against it, he shoved into her so hard it made her head spin, and she relented to let him use her as they both wanted. When she was close and her thighs kept trying to snap shut, she pleaded, hoarsely, "...harder. Harder."

She was delicious. It was that simple. He wanted to die buried in her up to his balls. They slapped her bubble butt with each cunt claiming thrust of his dick into her. He watched her hand slide up and under her belly. She found her clit with those slender, piano playing fingers and he fucked her harder while she fingered herself as he tried to split her open.

His hands shifted to her skirt. He jerked on the fabric until it ripped down the center to dangle off one thigh with her ruined panties. His fingers closed around the tube top banded around her middle like the bridle of a horse. He had a brief moment of wanting to cum inside of her and she went.

She went around him with a warbling cry of release. Her pussy tightened. Her hand stopped stroking her clit and threw itself to the side of her to grip some blankets and squeeze. Her ass shoved back on him so hard it almost hurt and slapped loudly in the room. He popped his thumb out of her ass as she seized around his cock like a velvet vice.

His balls echoed it, seizing painfully as Leon cursed. He tried to pull out, she slammed back against him in a murderous pace as she came all over him, and he gave up. He rolled her to her back, her legs splayed obscenely in those boots as the heel cut a jagged swath across his bed, and he gripped the back of her neck to pull her up to kiss her. She keened, grabbing the comforter above her head to stop her flailing hands, and he shoved her left leg up as the knee. Her right leg braced on the bed, Jill threw her hands up to grab handfuls of his hair to shove her tongue in his mouth, and Leon jerked at her hip to shove her down on his plunging dick as the back of her thigh hit his chest, his cock hit the spongy edge of her cervix, and he came in her.

Jill seized around him, coming almost simultaneously, her mouth opened and she let out high-pitched, tremulous, shaking sobs of release. She kept gasping, "Oh, god...ohmigod..." Her body spasmed madly beneath him as he collapsed atop her.

Her arms latched around his back. He rolled his hips inside her like he was stirring a cauldron, and she felt the tears slide down her cheeks.

He'd, literally, made her weep with pleasure.

Jill's hands slid over his ass. Her thighs opened and looped her legs over his. He lifted off her so her face wasn't buried in his chest.

It was a nice chest. She'd been right about thinking that. It was smooth with just a touch of hair over the top of his pecs. He was almost painfully lean and her hands roved over his narrow waist to grip the back of his shoulder blades. But it was clear he was in good shape. She thought he'd probably bulk up some as he spent more time on the force.

She got the feeling he was just naturally slim.

He looked down at her as his sweaty hair dangled beside their faces. A bead of salty liquid slid down his nose to drip onto hers. She licked it as it landed on her mouth and he laughed, breathlessly, hoarsely. "I think I might love you, Jill Valentine."

She echoed his laugh as her hands scooped his sweaty hair back. "You sweet talker. You say that to all the girls you cum in?"

Without missing a beat, Leon answered, "You'd be the first on both accounts, sweetheart."

Curious, her brows arched, "Oh? You don't usually dump your load in girls you take home to fuck?"

He tilted his head, eyes twinkling, "Not usually. I'm a gentleman. But you..." He rolled his hips and watched her eyes blur. His voice broke a little, charming her as he finished, "You're not like any girl I've ever met."

"No? That face doesn't get the girls wet and ready?"

He scoffed, grinned, and leaned down to kiss her with his eyes open. She craned her neck toward him and did the same. He said, against her lips, "Not like that. You always stick your hand in guys pants you just met and let them cum in you?"

Adoring him, Jill flashed her teeth, "You'd be the first on both accounts, sweetheart."

He was still laughing as they both leaned in to kiss again.

Her pager went off about 2 a.m. Curled against his back, she blinked into the moonlight. Rooting around in the semi-darkness, Jill tugged it free of her shoulder holster. The holster was the only thing to survive Hurricane Kennedy.

Naked, she clicked the button to flash the message. It illuminated her face in green as she read it.

Turning, she noticed he was awake on the bed watching her. On his belly, with his arm to the side to dangle toward the floor, and all that hair in his eyes, he was probably the tastiest thing she'd ever seen.

Quietly, she told him, "Sorry to fuck and run, but there was a murder."

Surprised, he sat up in the bed. "Shit. Anybody, you know?"

Jill shook her head, smiling at him, "Some kids near the woods. But I gotta go in..." She hesitated, laughed softly, and asked, "I hate to be a beggar here, but you ripped apart most of my clothes."

Sheepishly, he slid out of the bed, "Right. Sorry." He slipped on his jeans in the dark.

Oh, he was too cute. He was apologizing for fucking her stupid. She'd never met a more adorable kid in her life. Kid? He wasn't much younger than her.

She studied him as he dug in the drawers of his dresser for something she could wear. He rose to bring her a t-shirt that looked like an RPD gray one in the dark. "Any chance you want to wear my underwear home?"

Jill laughed and took the boxers from him too. She slipped on both after tugging up her tube top. "How do I look?"

She looked pretty damn cute in his boxers and his clothes with those evil, soul-stealing boots he adored. Her chestnut brown bob was loose around her face and lovely. Quietly, Leon cupped her face to turn it up to him and avowed, "...beautiful. You look beautiful."

Her chest seized a little as he kissed her. It didn't steal or snap or leave her breathless with lust - this one shimmered with something so much worse. It was tender. Without realizing it, Jill sagged against him to kiss him back.

It went on for a handful of minutes before her pager buzzed again and they drew apart.

She could feel the flush on her face as she murmured, "...right. I should go. Thanks...for the clothes." She paused at the door as he stood watching her in the moonlight. Even his bare feet were cute. Damn him. And she added, "And the sex. Thanks for the clothes and the sex."

Leon chuckled, shaking his head, "You're welcome. Your bikes outside."

Surprised, Jill clutched her holster to her belly and queried, "...how?"

Leon shrugged and shifted toward the nightstand. He struck up a cigarette in the dark with a zippo. He was so bad for her. Between the drinks and the smokes and the fucking, she was kinda afraid he was just sheer addiction.

He replied, "While you were sleeping, I ran over to fix it and brought it back here."

Jill muttered, "You ran five miles to fix my bike?"

Again, he shrugged nonchalantly. "No biggie. I run that every day anyway."

They held gazes in the swirling smoke from his orange tip. Jill cleared her throat, trying not to be mesmerized, "Well, thank you. Seriously. I don't know how to repay you."

"No payment necessary. Just come on over and rape me again sometime, Jill Valentine."

She backed up. She bumped into the hallway. He grinned in the dark and she returned, "...right. Officer Kennedy."

"Jill."

She turned and fled.

He stood in the dark palming the zippo. His eyes turned down to it. S.T.A.R.S. - the lighter never failed him. And now every time he struck it up, he'd picture her face. If he'd ever wondered if he'd picked the right force before, he didn't now. He knew in his guts this was the place he was supposed to be. He was gonna go home and pack up his stuff and he was going to finally move out here.

Pausing, he winced and realized it would probably be best if he broke up with his girlfriend first. In a handful of moments, Jill Valentine had gotten him to cheat on his girlfriend, fuck her bareback, and cum inside her. So much for being a good guy.

He was officially a cad. He lamented, on a laugh, "...women."

He couldn't wait to come back here and see her again.

He absolutely loved Raccoon City.