Have you ever seen that epic show, 8 simple rules? Well, what if Wesker had a daughter like that? One that cheats in school, dates annoying guys and complains about her life?
This story is how I picture it. Except that there is no mom, because I don't want to write three OC's. Three? Yes, because Wesker's mom is awesome to write, and she will be making appearances, like in Meine Freunde chapter 5 or 6 or whatever.

Perhaps this has been done before. I don't know, I only ever read one-shots because my brain dislikes long stories for some reason. I can't focus long enough, it's annoying.

I don't own RE, Capcom does.

Written from Wesker's point of view.

Enjoy?

Having a daughter wasn't as bad as I expected it to be when I found out I was having one. It wasn't that hard to raise her, and as time went by, she appeared to be growing up into a fine young woman. A woman with a good head on her shoulders, and enough motivation to get her anywhere she wanted to go.

However, nobody ever tried to prepare me for what would happen if she became sixteen. Nobody ever told me certain things would change. Nobody ever mentioned how hell would come to earth whenever I would least expect it.

"Daddy!"

Here we go again. I can actually hear the exclamation marks at the end of her sentences. Just like I can hear the question marks and the dots. Sadly for me, there aren't many sentences that end with dots anymore. For some reason they disappeared when she turned sixteen.

Sweet sixteen my ass.

"What is it, dear heart?" I closed my eyes and sighed. This report wasn't going to finish itself, but judging by the tone in her voice, I wasn't going to finish it either.

A blond girl appeared in the doorway and stomped towards me, her eyes glaring daggers. "She did it again, dad! Sarah did it again! I was about to talk to him, and then she stepped up and asked him out! She asked him out! How wrong is that?"

Boy-trouble. Not my favourite, but it beats tampons any day. "Who is he and why do you care?"

"He is just the most amazing guy I ever laid eyes on! His eyes are blue, his hair is black and oh my, he even has tattoos!" My 'adorable' daughter rolled her eyes. "But of course, as always, I fished behind the net."

She doesn't always fish behind the net. Every once in a while she brings home a viking and introduces him as her new boyfriend. They go out for a month or two and then she gets tired of him, and dumps his ass before he can dump hers. Some people are job-hoppers, my daughter is a boyfriend-hopper.

I am not saying she is a slut, because she's still smart enough to save her body for those who are worthy enough, or at least I hope so. I'm just saying she's too easily distracted. It can be quite annoying, I must say.

"Daddy? Daddy! I was talking to you!"

I frowned. "I don't want you dating boys with tattoos, they are... evil." Evil? Did I just call boys with tattoos evil?

"They're not half as evil as you are."

"Hnnn. That's not the point here. If you date a man with tattoos, someday you will come home with a tattoo, and before you know it, you're in the hospital because you used too much cocaine."

She rolled her eyes again. Why do sixteen-year-olds roll their eyes at everything you say? Is it a conspiracy? "Dad, you're being ridiculous."

"Perhaps."

"No, for sure."

"Dear heart, if a man is stupid enough to pick someone else over you, they're not worth feeling sad over. If this Sarah has him, let her keep him. There will be plenty of other vikings for you to date."

"Stop calling my boyfriends vikings! They're not even from Scandinavia."

"They look like it." They act like it, too. I once saw one of her boyfriends eat a large steak in a matter of seconds, and another one was actually capable of wielding a sword. I really don't know where she finds them. "And stop rolling your eyes at me, one day they might fall out."

She shrugged. "I'll just get some glass ones, it'd be fun to see the look on people's faces when I pull them out of my sockets."

"You can't actually see with glass eyes."

"Oh yeah. Makes sense." She giggled, so I suppose the worst part is over. "Oh daddy, could you do me favour and drive me to town? I need some supplies."

I glanced at that report that was still waiting to be finished. I thought about Krauser, who I still needed to call about a certain mission. I sighed. "Fine. What kind of supplies?"

Another shrug. "Tampons. Now let's go!"

...

I hate tampons.

This is kind of an introduction, next will be longer. SHE needs a name. I felt like naming her Ella, but that would be lame, seeing as that is part of my own name. Then again, Resident Evil has lots of Ellas. You know, like Excella and Umbrella.

I dunno yet. SHE needs friends though. Amusing friends. If you want to be her friend, go ahead and yell your own name. Or an alias. I´m not putting my own friends in, they'd be so confused. xD
The only thing that might happen is that I portray you as someone you are not. I would never make fun of anyone in a nasty way, but I do still write crack.

Uh. I talk too much. Dammit. xD
- FUNK!