Hello readers! I'm pretty happy with all the feedback I've gotten XD Thank you so much. Let's get chapter 2 started, shall we?

Peace?

Groans of pain filled the gym. In the far back, all the STARS members were in a handstand position, dressed in sweats against the mirror-lined wall.

"Down!" Wesker commanded. The groans amplified. Everyone "tried" to lower their dripping sweat bodies to do a push-up. "Hold it…"

"Ah, fuck, c'mon!" Forest blurted out, slamming his eyes shut before the sweat rolled below his brows.

Chris took a deep breath before rapidly shooting the air out of his mouth. "Shut up, Forest," he breathed before taking another gulp of air. On either side of Chris were Barry and Jill, both with their mouths clamped shut; Jill's loose hair was glued to her temples as she shifted her weight. Barry closed his eyes.

"One more—up!" Wesker moved up and waited for the others to follow. With one hand he removed his glasses, wiped his eyes, and placed them back on his nose. His breath was steady, like he'd done this so many times before. "Down and hold!"

"Shit," Joseph cursed as he lowered his form down for the last time.

"Ugh, I can't…" Brad grounded out. His arms began to spasm and sweat plopped onto the black mat.

Everyone but Wesker turned to Brad, worried expressions on their faces. He wobbled in place.

"If he falls, we do another set," Wesker warned and turned to Brad with knitted eyebrows. "Keep it together, Vickers."

"You better not mess up, Chicken," Forest added. Brad groaned and dug his nails into the mat, keeping his body from swaying backwards. Sweat continued to puddle below as he took shallow breaths.

"C'mon, Brad…" Chris whispered.

Wesker took another look at Brad's struggling form and smirked. "Done."

Groans and sighs of relief escaped the Alpha and Bravo members as they collapsed onto the sweat covered mat, panting as they remained still—almost lifeless on the floor.

Wesker was already on his feet, leaning against the decline bench as he watched his subordinates in amusement. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Speak for yourself, Wesker," Enrico said taking a spot next to the Alpha leader. "I'm glad Vickers didn't fall, because I don't think I could do one more, let alone another full set." He shook his head. "Damn…"

Forest moved over to Brad's still form and slapped his cheeks. "Nah, Chicken knows what's good for him, Captain." Brad swung his arm, nearly clipping Forest on the chin. Forest backed up and laughed at Brad's vain attempt.

"Leave him alone, Forest," Chris said in annoyance as he stood. He reached down to help Jill to her feet and then held out a hand for Barry. "You did good, Brad."

Brad rose from his spot and pulled off his sweater, giving his face a wipe down. "Thanks," he replied, still out of breath.

"Well done, Vickers," Wesker said with a nod. "We're done for the day." He glanced at his watch. "Hit the showers and then go to lunch." His eyes landed on Chris. "Except for you."

Chris sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jill's hand landed on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze before turning away. Everyone moved in clusters towards the locker rooms. Enrico gave Wesker a slap on the arm before following the others.

Wesker watched everyone go before turning his attention to Chris. He removed his glasses. "I want to talk to you about yesterday," he began, and gave his glasses a wipe, keeping his eyes on them. He inspected them thoroughly before placing them back on his nose.

"Look, Wesker, I—

"Let me finish," he said sternly and folded his arms. "I understand that there are times where there is friction between you and I. Of course, that's expected in the workplace." Wesker gave Chris a firm stare. "However, that does not justify my actions nor does it give me the right to insult you repeatedly, especially in front of your sister. That was unprofessional."

Chris looked surprised, really surprised. Did Wesker just admit he was at fault? He thought, trying to compose himself so he didn't rub victory in his captain's face. Wesker already looked uncomfortable, like someone held a cattle prod next to him and would shock him if he didn't say what he was told.

Silence prompted Wesker to continue. "Something happened yesterday before work, and I broke the rules of leaving my problems at home." He pushed himself off the machine and casually slicked his hair back. "Nevertheless, I hope we can forget this matter; what was said between yesterday and now will be forgotten. Agreed?"

A burden was lifted off of Chris' shoulders. He gave a nod. "Agreed."

"Good." Wesker said with the slightest hint of a smile before it melted into a flat line. He started for the lockers. "When you get back from lunch, make sure there's a hot cup of coffee waiting for me on my desk." Chris wanted to protest, wanted to shout…then he thought about the talk and decided not to ruin his captain's mood.

Chris followed suit. "Yes, sir."


Claire rested against the window with her headphones on as the bus moved along the busy streets. She sighed, tired from a long day of school and glad to finally be going home…almost. Chris had called earlier in the day for Claire to meet him at work so that they could ride home together. Claire protested, of course, but Chris didn't want Claire to ride the bus alone at night. Against her will, she agreed.

Claire pulled the 'stop requested' cord and moved to an empty seat at the front of the bus. When the bus came to the stop, she gave the driver a "thanks" and headed out, walking a block towards the RPD. She gave a sigh of relief when she saw the building come into view, thankful that it hadn't taken her long to reach it; things got a little scary after dark. What better way to feel safe than in a Police Department?

Claire walked inside the building with her hands on her backpack straps, humming to 'A Day in the Life' by the Beatles as she made her way through the near empty halls to the STARS office. Alpha Team's door was ajar, only open by the trashcan bin. Claire pulled her headphones down and knitted her eyebrows. She opened the door slowly and poked her head in. Empty.

"Chris?" Claire called into the room. She stepped inside and looked around. "Chris?"

"He's not here."

Claire's eyes shot towards the darkness in Wesker's office. She heard the chair roll out and heavy footsteps follow; a soft 'click' was heard and the lights in the office came on, revealing a serious looking Wesker. He took a few steps out of the office and planted his hands on his hips.

"I sent him out on patrol," he said simply and gave a shrug. "I suspect he won't return for a few hours." He saw Claire's expression change from confused to disappointment. "But I didn't know you were coming, Miss Redfield, otherwise I would have sent another officer."

Claire gave a sigh and let her gaze fall to the tile. Thanks a lot for calling, Chris. And then Claire's eyes lit up.

"Duh," she said, pulling out her phone. She dialed Chris' number and waited. It rang. Her eyes quickly landed on the drawer beside Chris' desk. A loud rattling noise was heard and Claire moved to open the drawer. She closed her phone with a snap. 'Missed Call' was displayed on Chris' phone before the backlight turned off.

"Great," Claire muttered. That's strike two, you big ape.

"How unfortunate. Looks like you're going to be waiting for some time until his return, Miss Redfield." Wesker walked back into his office. "You're welcome to stay and wait for him…" He lowered his voice. "…as long as you're not carrying any water." Claire could hear the warning in his voice and the grip on her backpack straps tightened. She'd almost forgotten about the embarrassing incident the day before; had she remembered this when she was on the bus, she would've rode all the way home, no matter what Chris said.

Claire felt her feet move forward. Willingly? Unwillingly? She didn't know; she just came closer and closer to Wesker's door. "Oh," she said and dipped her head, like a dog with its tail between its legs. "About that…I-uh…I wanted to apologize for my behavior, Captain Wesker—

"Just Wesker," he cut in. He sat back in his seat when Claire entered. He could hear the friction of her Converse hi-tops rubbing together in nervousness as she stood in the doorway. He gestured for her to sit in the chair opposite of him.

"Oh, thanks," she said and took her backpack off before planting herself in the chair. She put her backpack on the floor, fixing it so it didn't fall over…stalling…she didn't want to look up, didn't want to face Wesker. But he had invited her into his office, into one of his chairs, and now he was waiting to hear her apology…it was now or never.

Claire looked sat upright in her chair, trying to find some indication that he was looking at her, but saw that his gaze was somewhat lower. She could guess that he was staring at her almost C-cup boobs that popped out more prominently by the slim-fitting graphic tee, or he was analyzing the phrase, "That's how I roll," printed across the shirt, and wondering what the hell it meant. Either way, he spent more than enough time on her chest.

She cleared her throat, and Wesker's head tilted up slightly. "So as I was saying Cap-I mean Wesker, was that I wanted to say sorry for yesterday. I'm very protective of my brother as he is protective with me—in different ways of course, but I still get ticked off when someone gives him a hard time. You know, when someone's like, "You're an effin' this," and "You can't do anything right…" She sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that I'll always be on my brother's side and I was yesterday, but I guess I should've taken a step back; he's my brother, but you're his boss and he was here in the office. I shouldn't have jumped into something that didn't concern me." She looked away. "I'm sorry—I—I just lost it. I didn't mean to call you an asshole or—" she tried holding back her smile.

"Or shower me with water?" Wesker offered, slightly moved by Claire's words. She nodded and he put a hand to his chin in thought, considering the young Redfield. "Hm. You weren't in your right state of mind, and neither was I." He adjusted his glasses and clasped his hands on the polished desk.

That's it?

He sat quietly. The silence gnawed on Claire's courage; slowly, she began to feel that uncomfortable feeling again—the feeling she had felt yesterday when she was introduced to Wesker. She was thankful for his glasses, that she couldn't see his eyes (not that she'd be able to read his emotions anyways). All she knew was that they were cold, not in a mean or harsh way, but a lifeless kind of cold.

That's why you're such a mystery…perhaps there's more? The thought was quickly dismissed before she went on a tangent in her own mind. Why would she care about his feelings? Why…?

"So…" Claire began, focusing on Wesker's gloved hands and narrowing her eyes when the leather 'squeaked' as he clasped his fingers tighter. "…water under the bridge?"

Wesker smirked. "Water under the bridge," he agreed and removed his glasses to rub his dry eyes. Claire only caught a glimpse of blue before they were covered again by black plastic. Wesker opened a manila folder that had been lying on the desk by his computer mouse, and began pulling out papers. He opened a drawer and pulled out a ball point pen, getting down to business and filling out the blank black lines. Claire watched his hand effortlessly guide the pen into curves, loops and angles as if they were brushstrokes.

She leaned over to see what he had written:

The suspect was not armed, but was heavily intoxicated; he possessed a valid driver's license but had no proof of insurance or registration…

A loud grumbling noise stopped him and he slowly looked at Claire with furrowed brows. She pressed her lips together in embarrassment and sat back.

"Sorry," she said with a rub on her stomach. "Guess it's time to feed the beast."

Wesker raised a brow and tapped his pen against the desk, as if contemplating something. Claire took that as a look of disapproval or annoyance and stood abruptly, scooping up her backpack by a strap.

"Thanks for the company, Wesker," she mumbled and kept her eyes on the ground as she slipped into the straps, "but I should be going."

The tapping stopped.

"Oh? I thought you were going to wait for Chris?"

Claire looked at him, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah, but it's getting late; I'm hungry, and you seem really busy. I don't want to overstay my welcome, you know?"

"You haven't," Wesker said matter-of-factly and stood. "But if you wish to be on your way, then by all means…just drive safely."

Was this the night of embarrassing moments?

"Uh-well…I don't exactly drive. I mean I have my license, but I don't have a car. I take the bus wherever I need to go."

Wesker's brows furrowed again, only this time they were accompanied by a clenched jaw and tightened fists. "You mean your brother makes you take the bus all alone, to and from school?"

"Well he doesn't make me," Claire said, once again, trying to defend her brother. "I really have no other choice. He uses the Jeep for work and I guess I don't mind too much, because school isn't that far…" She trailed off, thinking of how nice it would be to take a thirty minute drive to school, instead of taking almost an hour with two buses, and that solely depended if the buses had arrived late. "And it's in daylight most of the time. Except for Tuesdays and Thursdays—those are my late night days."

"That's preposterous," Wesker growled and tossed the pen on the table, before pulling out a key from his pocket to unlock a side table drawer. Claire heard a few jingles and Wesker slipped his keys into his pocket. He shut the computer down, and turned off the light. "Come."

"Wait, where are we going?" Claire said, almost sounding like a confused child that was ready to pester Wesker with numerous questions.

"Out. I'm taking you home," he said flatly and patted his pockets: wallet, keys (obviously), pocket knife…he didn't need to feel for his gun. He always had it with him.

Wesker locked his office and lead the way to the Alpha entrance, past the other members' desks. Claire slipped past him and he shut the light off, locking the office behind him. He put the keys away and started for the parking lot, Claire right behind. She gripped her straps tightly and kept her eyes on her Converse; the 'squeaky' noise they made on the waxed tile made her smile. They differed completely from the heavy thud of Wesker's boots.

Outside, the air was cold and goose bumps immediately formed on Claire's exposed skin. Warm air escaped her after every breath and disappeared into the cold. The heat was no match for it.

Wesker pulled out his keys once more and disarmed the alarm before opening Claire's door. She was taken aback by the gesture, one that she imagined Wesker would never have done.

"Huh, I had no idea guys still did this," she said and slipped into the passenger seat.

"They don't," Wesker said with a firmly shut the door. He got into his own seat and turned the key. The BMW started up with a growl. He let the engine warm up and turned the headlights on.

Black. Everything was black, Claire noticed. The shiny leather beneath her butt was smooth, so much that she had to slide backwards to prevent her from sliding forward. She ran her hands along the leather, not feeling any creases or excessive wear.

He must always drive alone.

A navigation system sat at the center of the console with a map of their location, the time, the weather…her eyes landed on the shift knob when Wesker covered it.

"A stick, huh? You don't seem like the type of guy to drive one." Claire glanced at Wesker and buckled her seatbelt.

Wesker pushed the clutch in and shifted in reverse. He shifted then shifted into first and slowly released the clutch. "That's the only way to drive," he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice as he drove out of the parking lot and onto the empty street. No one was out. An occasional car or two passed as Wesker took the side streets and headed for downtown. The skyscrapers came into view and Claire knitted her brows.

"But my house—

"We're not going to your house." Wesker shifted and stole a glance at Claire before she panicked. "Not yet anyway."

"Well, where are we going then?" There was worry in her voice and Wesker kept a straight face, not bothering to look or answer her. "Wesker?"

Claire noticed the speed decreasing and she looked ahead of her, relaxing when she saw Burger Kong come into view, still lit up with the 'Open Late' neon sign in the window. Wesker pulled into the drive thru just behind another car and put the car in neutral. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before turning to Claire.

"Something wrong?"

"Uh-no. No." Claire shrugged nervously. "It's just…I thought you were taking me home, and then we end up here, and…"

Wesker gave a low chuckle that made Claire shudder in delight. He shook his head lightly. "You intrigue me, Miss Redfield." He let his arm hang outside the open window. "Don't worry. Once we "feed the beast" I'll deliver you home safe." A half-smile…

Claire curled her toes in her sneakers and nodded, suddenly not being able to reply. Wesker looked away to the car in front and put the car in first. He moved up to the menu.

"Welcome to Burger Kong, how can I help you?"

Wesker didn't hesitate. "Let me have a double cheeseburger meal with a Coke. Go large on it. A grilled chicken salad with Italian dressing and another large Coke on the side, please."

Claire's eyes widened. Damn, Wesker…I like cheeseburgers as much as the next gal, but c'mon…

"Ok, sir, your total will be $15.46 at the window, thank you."

Wesker put the car into first and drove to the window. With the car in neutral he undid his seatbelt and pulled his wallet out from his back pocket. He opened it wide enough for Claire to see a thick wad of cash and a few plastic cards; the smallest bills had to be tens. Wesker grabbed a twenty and gave it to the cashier as she handed him the drinks. He handed them to Claire and she placed them in the cup holders beside Wesker; he took his change back and placed it in Claire's hands.

"What do you want me to do with this?" She asked, squeezing her hands tighter as the pennies threatened to escape her clutches.

"Keep it," he said quickly as he was handed the bag of food. "Have a good night," he said with a nod to the cashier and sped off. Claire opened the bag, and like a claw from one of those machines with the stuffed animals, she grabbed a handful of fries.

Wesker heard the repeated crinkle of the bag and took a glance at Claire. She did the same except with a mouthful of fries. She chewed slowly, keeping her eyes on Wesker.

"Sowwy," Claire managed to say between each chew. She swallowed the starchy glob in her mouth and licked her lips of the remaining salt. "Sorry."

"You're hungry. By all means dig in." Claire rummaged through the bag. "Just don't make a mess."

"Well noted," she said before stabbing the straw into her Coke cup and taking a long drink. "Ahh…nothing like the sugar rush of a Coke. Does the body good."

"Actually, soda is very bad for you. It can cause many unwanted health problems. Although I'm sure it doesn't matter, since you're going to eat an artery clogging piece of meat anyway." The car slowed to a red. He turned to Claire with his hand lingering over the knob. "So which way to your house?"


"So, why did you buy a salad anyway? I mean, really, who goes to a fast food spot and gets a salad?" Claire took a sip of Coke and big bite out of her burger.

They were parked at the curb outside Claire's house with the interior lights on as they ate 'dinner.' Wesker stuck his fork into a grape tomato and almost swallowed it whole. He placed his fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

He grabbed his Coke. "I'm not very hungry." He took a sip and put the Coke down. "But I can eat a good meal when I am," he reassured Claire as he grabbed his fork and stabbed pieces of Chicken and lettuce.

Claire downed the last of her fries before crushing the cardboard in her hands. "What's your favorite meal?"

"Hmm. What a broad question. How about you narrow it down?"

Claire resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Ok, Mexican?"

Wesker shook his head. "Not a big fan."

"Chinese?"

"Some of it's very greasy," he replied thoughtfully before covering the left overs of his salad.

"Japanese?"

"Too raw."

Claire sighed. "Then what? You've obviously narrowed everything down already."

He smirked. "I know. I just wanted to see how long it took before your patience wore off." Claire folded her arms and gave a look of disbelief. "I'm rather fond of Chicken Alfredo…but it has to be made just right."

"Oh, God, is there anything that doesn't need to be up to your perfect standards?" Claire said tossing her hands up. "It's food. If it tastes good, eat it. I mean, what else are you picky about?"

Wesker considered her with the tilt of his head. He couldn't help but smile. The same flame burned inside her as it did inside Chris; the only difference was that Claire was able to hold his attention longer. "A lot of things," he said finally.

"Oh, for the love of…forget I asked," she said with a shake of her head. "Question dodger…"

Before Wesker could reply, his phone released numerous vibrations in his pocket. He wasted no time answering it, as if he expected the call.

"Wesker." He pressed the phone firmly against his ear. If Claire had to guess, it was probably someone from his team. "Mhmm…and the result?" He waited. "I see…"

As she drowned Wesker out, Claire paid particular attention to the muscles in his forearm; she liked how they shifted with each movement of Wesker's fingers; the large vein that curved up was fascinating. She didn't know why…it just was. She was a muscle-liking girl; most of the guys in her classes had nowhere near the muscle definition as Wesker and that disappointed her. Claire was supposed to be checking out the guys at school, hopefully finding her long lost sweetheart, and living happily ever after. OK, maybe that was just in the movies. But checking out Chris' boss every chance she got wasn't exactly OK either, was it? Hell, he could have any woman he wanted. Why would he even consider someone just making the age of adulthood? She didn't have much to offer. All she possessed was an empty pit of a stomach, big boobs, and a shirt that took some people time to understand. After all…he was very picky.

"I'll keep in touch," he mumbled and ended the call. He turned back to Claire. "Forgive me. Business is relentless." He glanced at his watch and sighed. "Unfortunately, Miss Redfield, I must be on my way. Bravo Team will be arriving at the RPD and I need to discuss something with them before I retire for the night."

Claire unbuckled her safety belt. "Say no more." She grabbed the bag of trash and crumbled it. "Thank you for everything, Wesker. I appreciate it." Just as she was about to exit the vehicle…

"Wait," he said quickly. He adjusted his glasses as if they would help him see better. "I have a proposition for you."

"Alright, let's hear it."

Wesker smiled. He liked her directness. "Seeing as though you don't have a vehicle of your own—by means of insufficient funds or simply because your brother doesn't want you driving—I would like to employ you so that you can save for one of your own." Claire's face fell. "Not that kind of employment, Miss Redfield. Mind out of the gutter, if you please?"

Claire reconsidered. "Ok, if I said yes, what kind of stuff would I have to do? And it better not be something weird either, like rearranging your bug collection or something like that."

"Cleaning my house—

"Nope," Claire said quickly.

"—cooking—

"I said no, Wesker."

"—and providing aid where I require it, no questions asked."

"Damnit, didn't you hear me?" Claire said with the slam of the door. "I'm not going to be some slave."

Wesker removed his glasses. His cold eyes bore into Claire's; she was hypnotized.

Don't turn to stone, don't turn to stone…

"How does three-hundred dollars a day sound?"

How does it sound? She thought. "Depends on the hours, and the so-called tasks you want me to do. I expect more if it's an all-day thing, like weekends and what not."

"We'll negotiate that when we come across it, Miss Redfield." He started the engine. "I'll expect an answer by the end of the week. Oh, and keep this between us." He shifted the car into first. "Have a good night." And Albert Wesker was gone.

Claire watched the sleek car head down the street and make a sharp right. "Prick."

End of this one. A couple things I wanna address: I'm trying to capture the Wesker from RE 1 and NOT from RE 5 (as I have previously been doing lol). As far as I'm concerned, RE 1 Wesker is up for interpretation. He's stoic, sure, but I've seen numerous fictions with him as talkative, likeable, human…so I'm doing my best to make him professional, smart, but also human, as he kinda-sorta is personality wise. He doesn't go crazy until after RE 1 when Chris foils his plans, blah, blah…So yeah. I wanted to write more, but I didn't want to bore you guys; plus the title wouldn't make sense after a while.

Another thing, I'm trying to dive right into the story plot and give more Wesker and Claire interaction. I don't like to stall by throwing out fillers. Sure, this fic will take some planning, but if the story REALLY starts becoming a "WTF?" story, let me know; otherwise, let it take its course. You might actually be surprised. And yes, Claire is a little playful, immature at times, but what young adult (other than Wesker, maybe) hasn't been like that? She's the one who's gonna make Wesker open up more if you haven't noticed already. Don't forget, Wesker is still a police officer. And though he might have his own agenda with Umbrella that he hasn't revealed yet, he must still be a respectable and believable citizen, even if that means buying Claire food and taking her home. I just felt I should mention these things, since I have a feeling that someone will say "that's unbelievable." Lol Anways, feel free to PM me or review. They help! Also, hit me up on FB; my link is on my profile. And if you have a PS3, PM me your network name and we'll play! :D—Lil V. p.s. I would appreciate it if "Guests" signed in so that I can reply to your messages, or at least say "thanks."