Author's Note/ Disclaimer: This is the first story I am officially posting as my first serious attempt. It is rated M for vulgarity, sexual content, drug/alcohol usage, etc/. I've had a love and passion for Resident Evil since I was like 6 so after RE4 I supposed this was appropriate.

I do not own Resident Evil, Capcom, or the owners thereof. Kthnks 3.

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…'nous vivons tous pour chercher une destiné si belle qu'elle perce nos rêves...'

…we all live to seek a fate so beautiful it pierces our dreams...

Tonight was supposed to be the most humid night of the week. Supposed to be.

A twilight heat wave to die for. But there was a obscene cold stillness to the air in the town, and it was just one of those things that no one wanted to acknowledge no matter how apparent it seemed. And it got worst. In a secluded bar along the deserted strip of the thruway, more than 85 miles from civilization. There were three occupants in the muggy and still room: The overweight, depressed looking bartender that looked everywhere but up as she polished stain filled shot glasses, a little girl who resembled the woman sitting boredly at a vacant table…and a unconnected looking woman.

A lady in red.

One could tell she wasn't from around there. The view of the way she cradled her chin in her small but guilty hands was enough to attest to it. Her red camisole top and matching capris was enough to bet millions.

She hadn't been waiting for too long, or so she was making herself to believe, when the door opened to reveal a tall man of heavy stature and an expensive looking black suit.

The woman had been nursing a horrible glass of vodka.

The bartender immediately grasped her glass tight but didn't glance at the little girl. Now she knew something was going on. Nobody liked foreigners and trouble in their territory.

Especially if they weren't 'equipped' enough to handle it.

The man went over to a table by the window, closest to the back and implied her to join him. She did. Nothing ever changed.

"Seems like you've had a change in fashion sense."

She rolled her eyes in the direction of the obese bartender who irritably looked away. A brilliant façade she perfected among the years of her career. Although sometimes she felt he saw through her, she would just make her self believe something otherwise, better. Again.

Her drink had remained where she left it on the bar and she knew it was itching to be collected and washed to it's original state. The taste of it's ardor resonated in her throat, she could still feel the sting of it, and it helped her handle her company better. For whatever may transpire further on that night. She was always ready.

For times, engagements like these, if nothing else in her life.

"Seems like your still the same, that's nice."

He didn't smile " I don't intend to be here for long. I'm just preferred to drop off the information in person."

"Aww…don't you want to have a few drinks," she pouted " Though you can't taste it, I'm predicting you'd at least be graced with a little sensation."

The best and tiniest smirk that should could summon was pulled upon her small lips. At times like there, it used to mean an invitation.

Used to mean….

But the man didn't once at lease trigger a flinch in his handsome, perpetually youthful face features that he was listening to her. Much less caring. Instead he pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket and slid it to her.

"All I need from you is information…"

Was that it? Was that all…? She expected more. She needed more. Oh, how she trained herself, programmed herself to know what he wanted…how he wanted

it…where…when…how…She prepared herself in her best state and look. Almost like a occasional present that he'd unwrap and use every time they met.

Surely things weren't changing.

"… Everything you'll need is in that envelope."

Despite her inner most disappointment, she smirked and looked out the dirty glass window. For some reason she was surprised it was turning out the way it was.

She would die trying. He knew her "Well I know you like it rough…but don't you think you should appreciate me a bit more..?"

…No.

He looked at his watch.

"I want no tracks. No hints. Watch yourself as you were watching you own life."

"Trying to get your boy back, huh?," she pushed, wanting to hurt him as much as he hurt her " I heard it was that little notorious bitch that fucked you over and caused a riot to the whole place."

She watched his lip twitch slightly and felt an ounce of satisfaction.

Desperately she wished she could look into his eyes. Just once. But she knew no one got the privilege. And no matter what she did for him, it seemed she'd never see behind black.

It killed.

He stood up then, pushed his chair in and didn't look around. At the tightening of his jaw the little girl crawled away in fear. When he didn't loosen it, she whimpered. The curls of her dry auburn hair sheltered her frightened brown eyes modestly.

"Just do your job."

"and suppose I don't…" she teased as a final innuendo with every last bit of esteem she held in the deepest of her soul. She never did fail at doing anything for him.

"I'll kill you."

Usually she was flawless in holding a fair expression but he had broke through her wall effortlessly. His back was turned to her, however, and he didn't see the solid tear that strolled down the woman's face.

He smelled it. The salt in it. The weakness.

" No evidence. You slip, it's over. Do you understand me?"

"..do I ever.."

"Good. And please," he stated " Watch your mouth around the children."

It was then she couldn't stop the rush of her words, the rush of her demon that made her vomit the question she had been dying to ask for years.

"Aren't you sick of playing this game…?"

"You know what I am. I don't get tired." he answered as if it she was the most idiotic animal on the earth's surface.

And the sound of his voice made her feel that way. She always wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

He left then. She couldn't even hear the sound of his ignition beyond the wave of her thoughts. She ignored the stare from the bartender although she was dying to ask her why…

…Why does it hurt so much…?

She wanted to ask why he didn't set up to meet her in a better place than a shit hole like the one she sat in. Why he didn't take her to a high class hotel or the back of his limo and fuck her brains out. Why he never said thank you.

She slipped a five on the table's surface and politely stormed out to her black explorer. Her cell phone was thrown to the empty passenger seat and she felt so lazy she felt reluctant to switch on her lights.

All she could think of was his last words.

At least, however, from where she looked at it, it meant…promised she'd see him again.

And like a drug. Like a sedation. It was what she lived for.