Disclaimer: Lately I've been inspired by a LOT of fantastic artwork out there for Resident Evil. Of course my Chris/Jill tendencies are readily indulged. When one of these really strikes my fancy I end up with the scene in my head and end up with what I refer to as a flash fic. Usually only a page or two, it's what I see in my head when I look at these things. This one is based on a fantastic piece of artwork that made me smile at what I saw. This is a quiet, gentle time that they probably often don't get to share. The piece is called Back to home by Sherringui found on deviantart, sherringui. deviantart gallery/ 27018475#/ d5ihqrf (take out the spaces, it's the only way I can manage to post a link to the image)

Welcome Home

She was the only person he ever knew that could sneak up on him when she was so inclined. Tonight wasn't one of those nights. Instead she let her presence be known as soon as she entered the bedroom they shared. It was subtle, but he knew the sound of her breath, the way her footsteps sounded on the carpet, the brush of her leg against the chair... but she didn't say anything.

He sat on the corner of their bed, head in his hands. No matter what he'd said before, he was ready to give it up. Ready to hang up his gun and get the hell out. Run away to a deserted island somewhere that had never heard of Umbrella, or Tricell, or BOWs, or anything else. He just wanted some place where the world couldn't intrude. Somewhere he could let his mind rest, let down his guard.

Jill moved in behind him, sliding up onto the bed to press herself against his back. Still she didn't speak, instead laid her cheek against his back and wrapped her arms around him. Chris let himself relax into her arms thinking there was no other place in the world that was so right. After a moment her hands began to move, first releasing his weapon from the holder and sliding the safety on. She dropped it to the carpet at the edge of the bed. No matter what, she had too damn much experience to leave a weapon too far from hand. Pulling packs off, she tossed them to the overstuffed chair that sat facing the foot of the bed.

Gently she placed a kiss to the back of his neck. Once she had him down to his vest and his uniform, she took a minute to snuggle close, one hand going to the side of his head as she pressed their temples together.

"Jill-" he started only to be cut off by a soft Shhh.

Her shoulder holster and gun went next to his and then her hat and jacket. Kissing his ear, she pulled away just enough to get her tactical belt and leg holsters off. Everything joined the pile on the floor. Boots followed last. Once she was finished she started unbuckling the clips on his vest. One by one until he felt like he was being released from some kind of prison. Drawing it over his head, she let it drop at the foot of the bed. Reaching around his waist she unclipped the leg holster, then his duty belt and dropped them next to the tactical vest.

Hands like heaven skimmed over his back, touching him everywhere and no where at the same time. They were light, gentle and he wanted to curl up in her arms and never worry about another day. Her warm hand slid under the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. Obligingly, he lifted his arms so she could pull it over his head. One more thing onto the chair.

"Up," she said quietly. The tone matched the quiet grace of her presence and he wished like hell he could wrap it around himself like armor.

He rose, pausing only long enough to untie his boots so he could kick them off. Turning to face her, he let her unfasten his pants and shove them down his hips to the floor. Lips were soft against him, butterfly kisses to his mouth and face. The balm of her touch was slowly sinking in to the raw portions of his soul.

Standing there in his boxers, he watched as she stripped down to nothing, then pulled one of his old t shirts over her head from where he'd left it that morning laying by his pillow. Holding a hand out to him she smiled. His hand slid into hers and she pulled him up, leading him to the middle of the bed where she pushed him down. Once he was settled on his pillow she laid down next to him, her head on his shoulder, her body pressed against his. Of their own accord, his arms wrapped around her and he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of her shampoo and the lotion she'd used that morning.

Chris spoke her name and she looked up at him. The kiss was sweet and when they parted she put her head back where it had been.

"It's just us here," she told him. "No Wesker. No Edonia. No time apart." He kissed her forehead. "Just us."

Her words soothed him and he closed his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured against her hair. Pulling her a little closer he felt himself begin to drift. She wouldn't let him drift too far. Jill was his anchor. She was all he'd ever needed.