Author's Note: My first Resident Evil fic, one that I'm proud of despite the fact that it may suck to some people. But some stories aren't for everyone. I do my best, though.
I take constructive criticism with pride. However, flames will be used to melt the chocolate Wesker bought. Why did he buy it? Well, I'll let you think on that a while.
Jill never liked keeping secrets. They made her feel guilty, ate at her nerves until her voice was stuttering at the slightest mention of anything related to the source of her guilt. But very rarely did she find herself wrapped up in a terribly sensitive secret, and it was during her time as the newest S.T.A.R.S member that she discovered the secret no one should have known about.
During her first few days on the team, boxes still piled up around her desk, she noticed that Chris Redfield, the young officer who had the desk behind hers, was spending a large amount of his time speaking to Captain Wesker. Normally, she would have brushed it off, but the fact that he was almost constantly up at the back of the room with Wesker led her to ask Barry for some insight.
"Believe it or not, but Chris is Alpha team's unofficial second-in-command, right behind Enrico," Barry said, looking thoroughly amused, "He was just promoted a week or two before you were hired, and Wesker's been teaching him damn near everything he can think of about paperwork, just in case something happens. Chris is actually pretty dedicated, given his attention span."
Jill smirked. "Like a sparrow?"
"Exactly."
Wesker was well known around the RPD for his attention to detail, and it showed when he took almost ten minutes to properly adjust Jill's stance while firing a gun, and another ten on each of the others. Jill could see why he was so demanding – after all, they were the best of the best, and should be able to prove it when the time came – but it was when he moved on to Chris that Jill began to suspect something was up.
Chris was already in top form, but Wesker still went that extra mile like he did with everyone else, meticulously making small adjustments to the way he held his gun. His hands would linger, almost unnoticeable, over his arms, shoulders, even his back when Chris started to slouch. Jill paid it no mind at first, thinking Chris was just prone to shifting back to a more comfortable stance.
Out of the corner of her eye, though, just as she was firing at the white target fifty feet away, Wesker moved away, unblocking Chris from her vision, and she caught a dark smudge peeking out just from underneath the collar of his shirt. She almost ignored it, for Chris certainly seemed the type to go looking for nightly conquests on the weekend, not the weekdays when he was working.
The thing was, it was Thursday. Any hickeys from the weekend would have disappeared by then. He also didn't have a girlfriend, or at least, didn't speak of her.
Jill made sure to trail behind Chris on the way back to the office, and just as before, the spot on Chris' neck was visible only from the right angle. She had to wait until he was going down the stairs because of their drastic height difference, but Jill knew she wasn't seeing things at the range. What she found suspicious, however, was the fact that the hickey was on the back of his neck. As far as she knew, girls didn't generally leave hickeys there unless they were really, really tall.
Just what was going on?
Jill got her answer one day at work, very late at night.
She was almost out of the lobby when she remembered she left her apartment keys on her desk and went back to retrieve them, feeling a little shame for forgetting them in the first place. She depended on them like she did her lock pick, if only because her apartment had an electronic lock at the front door.
The drab gray hallway the S.T.A.R.S office was located in was eerily quiet, save for the almost inaudible murmurs coming from the office door. Her footsteps slowed as she neared the door, not wanting to interrupt whoever was talking, and peeked through the crack in the door.
Once again, Jill thought she was seeing things.
It didn't look like much at first; Chris was leaning over the desk to get a better look at a paper while Wesker used his fingers to point certain things out. But then she saw how Chris was leaning more than was necessary, saw Wesker's other hand come up slowly to trace small circles on the skin just below the marksman's ear, and Jill knew she shouldn't be watching this suddenly intimate moment.
She couldn't look away; it was like a train wreck, devastating even though you weren't involved. The answers were flooding into her. Why Wesker paid so much attention to Chris, why Chris had a love bite in the middle of the week, and why it was on the back of his neck...
By the time Jill's mind came to a decision, Chris had already moved around the desk to kiss Wesker properly, holding the captain's face while the blond lifted the edge of Chris' shirt to stroke the skin above the hem of his pants.
Chris was saying something against Wesker's lips, so quiet that Jill had to strain her ears to hear.
"More... we should... your place..."
Jill's hand slapped over her mouth as the fax machine jolted into life and beeped shrilly through the near silence, startling all three of the officers into reality. The men glanced at the fax machine just as Jill bolted away from the door and down the hallway. Leaning against the wall around the corner, she struggled to reclaim her breath as Chris said something in amusement and started towards her direction.
One more breath and Jill stepped out to greet him in the hallway. He smiled cheerily, like nothing was wrong.
"Hey Jill, I thought you went home already?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I, uh... I did, but I forgot my kis—keys! I left my keys on my desk!" Jill caught herself and corrected the mistake just in time, because evidently, Chris didn't suspect a thing.
Chris' hand landed on her head in an affectionate ruffle, and Jill fought the strong urge to duck and go red in the face. "Well, at least you live nearby. I'm just going to grab something to drink right now, but I'll see you Monday?"
"Yeah." Waving goodbye, Jill sighed and steeled herself for the trial of getting past Wesker.
Pulling the door open, Jill saw the captain reading the fax that came through and strode over to her desk briskly, shuffling through her things until she dug up her keys. She almost made it to the door when Wesker's voice made her stop.
"Ms. Valentine," Not even looking up at her, Wesker turned a page over and kept reading, "How long have you known?"
The words sent a chill up Jill's spine, but she did her best to hide it. She pretended to have not heard him. "Sorry?"
Bringing his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, Wesker revealed his eyes, cold and so light colored that they almost looked white from a distance. "I said, how long have you known?" There was an expectant tone to his voice...
Oh.
Jill caught on and cleared her throat. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
Wesker looked satisfied with her answer and went back to reading. "Good. Keep it that way." another page was flipped. "Goodnight, Jill."
"Have a nice weekend, sir."
And without looking back to see the small smirk adorning his face, she slipped out the door and shut it firmly.
