Author's notes: This began life as a sentence in another fic in which I had another character mention he'd faked being Hunnigan's date for her sister's wedding. So... then I just kinda went with it after switching it around a bit.
Standard disclaimer #1: everything Resident Evil belongs to Capcompals, the rest to yours truly.
Standard disclaimer #2: Well, what do you want from me, I wrote it in a day.. or two.
Standard disclaimer #3: I didn't want to, I HAD to.
Chapter 1: The top shelf stuff
Out of all the people Helena had ever expected to run into at O'Connell's after work, she'd always imagined she'd be more likely to run into the Pope than into Ingrid Hunnigan. Yet there she was, in her trademark power suit, fingers resting on the side of a collins glass filled with... something that Helena assumed contained coke based on the color. Ice clinked faintly when she tilted the glass back and emptied it before nodding subtly to the bartender who eagerly returned to cater to her needs.
"My goodness, you're not at your post, what's happening, is the world ending?" Helena jested as she slid onto the seat next to Hunnigan. The older woman let out an amused scoff. It was true that she wasn't often seen hanging out with her co-workers (frankly, she wasn't hanging out with them now either, she sat at the bar by herself) nor were they often provided with a chance to interact with her outside the office hours.
"When isn't it ending?" Hunnigan chuckled a response and took a sip of her rum and coke as Helena ordered herself a pint.
"So, the overwhelming feeling of meaninglessness and the realization that no matter how hard we try, the world will be on the verge of total chaos nonstop got you drinking or is it something worse, like... discovering a gray hair or..."
"And just like that, I remembered why trying to have a decent conversation with a twenty-something makes me want to poke myself in the eye with a used toothpick," Hunnigan rolled her eyes and Helena chuckled.
"Give me some credit, at least I'm not taking duckface-selfies while you're pouring your heart out to me," she smiled and sipped her beer. Hunnigan shrugged one shoulder and nodded in agreement.
"So, what's the real reason?" Helena then asked.
"My sister's getting married."
"Ah, so you're having one those Bridget Jones-kind of 'I'm thirty and unwed'-types of crises?"
"Is that what Bridget Jones's diary was about?" Hunnigan frowned.
"I have no idea, I've never watched the movie let alone read the book, I loathe the entire concept of romantic comedies," Helena shrugged and Hunnigan chuckled.
"I'll drink to that. And no, that's not the crisis. Or, it is, but not in the sense you think it is. I'm expected to attend the wedding which means I'll have to endure a bunch of aunties pinching my cheeks and asking when's my turn," Hunnigan groaned and rolled her eyes at the mere thought.
"Pro-tip, they'll leave you alone if you start doing the same to them at funerals," Helena grinned devilishly and Hunnigan burst out laughing.
"I'll remember that, thanks! Of course, turning up without a date will also inevitably end up with my mother trying to pimp me out to the groom's 87 year old uncle or something like that. Just thinking about it makes me cringe, I was almost considering asking Leon to be my fake date."
"That bad, huh?"
"Yes, but then I stopped to think of the property damage he'd undoubtedly cause after a night at the open bar, and decided hiring an escort would be cheaper," Hunnigan jested. Helena took another sip of her beer and pursed her lips as she pondered.
"I'll be your date," she offered cheerfully and Hunnigan doubled over in laughter.
"What? I clean up well! Imagine this rack and these deltoids in a strapless dress, you'll be the envy of your entire clan. Plus, you don't have to pay me, all I want is access to that open bar you mentioned," she quirked an eyebrow as Hunnigan inhaled deeply, slowly trying to recover from her laughing fit.
"That's not why I was laughing, I was just trying to imagine the looks on my family members' faces if I turned up with a woman."
"Would there be screaming about what an abomination homosexuality is? Because if yes, then you must take me to meet the folks," Helena said, rubbing her hands together like an evil villain.
"No, they're too polite to actually say anything, they'd be screaming internally," Hunnigan chuckled.
"Oh, my God, that's even better! I can imagine all the eye twitching, clenching teeth and veins popping as they try to contain themselves. And if that alone is not enough to convince you to take me, there's yet another silver lining."
"Which is?" Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow curiously. She wondered if she was getting drunk or if Helena was actually making a good point. Probably the latter considering she'd had only one rum and coke so far, and despite not being known for her ability to hold her liquor, it would still take a bit more than that to get her drunk.
"Well, if they think you've joined the rabid lesbian horde and are now actively practicing witchcraft and science, you can rest assured they won't ask another question about your personal life ever again. Or if they do, you can silence them by saying you're still very happy eating pussy and have no plans to stop," Helena shrugged innocently. Hunnigan inhaled her drink at the lewd comment and Helena reached to pat her back. Hunnigan pressed her palm against her chest and inhaled deeply, nodding her head slowly after surviving the worst of the coughing fit.
"You make a compelling argument," she cleared her throat.
"Well, you had me at 'open bar'. So, is it your younger sister or older who's getting married?" Helena then inquired, figuring she should at least find out something about the bride if she were to attend the wedding, even if her intention was to be there merely to silently troll the family just by being there.
"Younger, I'm the eldest. I have three sisters and four brothers," Hunnigan said and this time it was Helena's turn to inhale her drink in surprise at what was said.
"So there's eight of you total? Are your parents..."
"Catholic."
"I was gonna say 'rabbits', but that actually explains it just as well. Doesn't make it less disturbing, though."
"What's really disturbing is the fact that all of our birthdays are roughly nine months from dad's birthday, I think we can guess what mom's been giving him for his birthday. Ew, why did I go there?" Hunnigan then made a face and shook her head before taking a long sip of her drink and Helena chuckled.
"That's nothing, Deborah's birthday was roughly three years and nine months from mine... meaning she was conceived on my third birthday," Helena commented.
"I didn't realize this was a competition. But fine, you win," Hunnigan smiled.
"Okay, so, give me the basics I'm expected to know if we're gonna put on a facade of having been in a relationship for a while. Names, birthdays, pets, all that nonsense," Helena then requested, realizing she didn't really know much anything about Hunnigan. Then again, why would she have, most of their interactions were restricted to Hunnigan being her intelligence liaison, they weren't exactly friends in the sense that they'd sit around braiding each other's hair.
"It's gonna be thick file," Hunnigan jested, needing a moment to mentally piece if together herself. She'd given up trying to keep track of her siblings' birthdays years ago.
"The bride's name is Saskia, she's twenty-eight, the second eldest. Then there's Louise, she's twenty-five... followed by my twenty-two year old brother Simon... Tristan, nineteen... Eric, sixteen... Andrew, fourteen... and finally the baby of the bunch, my twelve year old sister Annika. Still with me?" Hunnigan listed and Helena scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, having lost track after the second sister.
"My parents' names are Jack and Margaret. Oh, and as far as anyone's concerned, I'm just a mild-mannered network security specialist working for the NSA."
"Ah, they live in the happy laa-laa-land where zombies don't exist."
"As do a lot of people, and frankly I think it's better that way."
"Yeah, I guess so," Helena shrugged.
She had to wonder how the acts of bioterrorism weren't common knowledge considering the large scale outbreaks that had been going on for years. Sure, the cover stories were decent enough, but even then there had to be people who leaked the truth. She supposed it came down to what was easier to believe; that the person ranting about zombies and mutants was a paranoid nutjob who mistook a flashmob of cosplayers too seriously, or that such things truly existed. Helena admitted that had she not had first-hand experience, she probably wouldn't have believed it herself either.
Out of all the people who went missing on a daily basis, how many were actually abducted by groups like Neo-Umbrella, or any other sinister organization operating behind the curtains? How many people were being taken and used as human guinea pigs right now? How many of them were never even missed? One was too many.
But would I care, would I know if it hadn't happened to someone I loved? No. When it's anyone else, they're just a name on a list.
"Are you okay?" Hunnigan inquired after Helena had become oddly serious all of a sudden.
"Yeah, I was just... thinking," she shrugged and Hunnigan nodded.
"Let me guess... 'How can they not know?'" she said and Helena nodded slowly, "The better question would be what is so bad that the people behind the attacks would rather distract us with a horde of zombies than let us see what they're really up to."
"Oh, now you're just making my head hurt on purpose," Helena complained.
"You know what they say, ignorance is bliss. Sometimes I'd rather not know everything I know... but at the same time, my compulsive need to know everything demands I dig deeper. It's a pretty miserable existence really," Hunnigan chuckled ruefully.
"Ever consider just quitting?"
"Do you?" Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow and Helena shook her head. No, of course she didn't. Especially knowing what she knew, how could she just get up and leave, hoping that the next person taking over won't get it all wrong?
"I do what I do because someone has to, but also because I'm good at it. I can't single-handedly put a stop to everything that's wrong, but I can make it better. That is my path," Hunnigan commented quietly.
"This is getting depressing, can we get back to talking about your family? You never mentioned any pets. Surely you had a pet gold fish or something."
"To me talking about my family is more depressing," Hunnigan smirked and Helena chuckled, shaking her head a little, "As for pets, we have a dog named Catnip."
"Seriously?" Helena quirked an eyebrow.
"No, but the truth about not having any pets is boring."
"I never knew you had a sense of humor."
"Yeah, my sense of humor is my best kept secret," Hunnigan nodded and finished her drink. She spun the ice at the bottom of the glass for a moment, silently contemplating on ordering a third. She decided not to.
"So, when's the wedding? Gotta dig out my chruch-panties for the occasion."
"Two weeks... Too short notice?"
"You're the one who coordinates my missions, you should know if I'm booked," Helena taunted.
"I'll clear your schedule," Hunnigan promised with a smirk and left after saying good night.