PART THREE: THE SLOW ROLL
"If he'd but said it, said it once, the world and all he knew would have been his for the taking."
The Queen Dido, 2005
The spill of darkness was thick and deep. It wouldn't let you out. It wouldn't let you in. It did nothing but hold you down and let you rot inside of it.
She felt the fire of death burn in her blood. It taunted at her and tempted her to take the promise of peace. She rolled to her back and looked at the darkness. The ship listed to one side badly. The mutated and putrid body of Norman slid along the floor close to her. He was dead…it was dead…it had to be. Chris appeared above her, bleeding badly. He picked her up anyway. That was the thing about big muscles, they had their purpose.
The ship was on fire. She could smell it. The fight had gone bad, gotten worse, and ended in fire and blood. They'd won…they had evidence against Morgan. But was this the cost? Would they die trying to escape?
Chris slogged against the water, telling her the already sunken ship was soon going to be completely submersed. She'd have to swim. She didn't think she'd make it. She grabbed his face.
"Leave me here!"
"Don't be stupid, Jill! You know that won't happen."
"Chris I won't make it! I won't make it. I'm too hurt. It's too far. I can't swim. I'm done! But you're not! Get out of here. Get to the evac and get the hell out of here. This is a good place to go. The day is saved right? Let me go."
"Shut up," He went under the water. She had no choice but to hold her breath. She clung around him like a monkey as he swam. And here the muscles were his friend too. He moved well for such a big man. And he did it without her added weight bothering him.
When she lacked for air, he gave her that too. He pressed his mouth to hers and breathed. They popped out of the water with Jill gasping and Chris breathing hard. He shared the respirator they had left between them. He was something.
He carried her to the surface and brought her out to the chunk of tree covered land where they were to be evacuated from. Jill coughed, the world spinning, and something hot and wet touched her face. She looked down to see his blood spilling across her.
He was bad. Really bad. His shoulder looked like hamburger.
But he'd carried her free.
She could hear a helicopter close by. She could smell the fire. She could smell his blood.
He collapsed onto his knees but held onto her. She turned toward him. He wavered in front of her. She started to go into the darkness and he called her name, "Stay with me!"
She opened her eyes, so tired. He kissed her. He was crying. Big strong he-man, he was crying. She kissed him back. He was crying. The strongest man she'd ever known. He was crying for her. She wanted to hold him forever.
He said, "Don't die on me, Jill. I love you."
Oh, she thought, oh. What was in that I love you?
She went into the dark again holding onto him.
BSAA, HQ
When she awoke, she was immediately debriefed. The hospital where she was held was Greer in Hoffnung, Germany. It was the best place to treat anyone who you wanted to have classified care. The BSAA was a mess. The FBC was a mess. The betrayal and the cover up and the conspiracy was wide spread and many layered.
They'd need to do some heavy repair to fix it.
The only problem was how deep and wide the damage was. It had smaller subsects of problems. The Dido wasn't the only ship out there causing trouble. And the betrayal by Jessica Sherawat guaranteed that their secrets were for sale to the highest bidder.
Umbrella, Veltro, the BSAA, and the FBC were now a public traded commodity. The black market was over saturated with information and secrets. Traitors, competitors, and any one with the funds were able to buy enough damning data to kill agents, topple countries, and infect millions. The fight they'd been trying to win had just tipped badly against them.
The clean up would be massive and the battle had just gotten impossible. It would take more help than they had at their disposal. They needed a bigger gun.
They got one: in the form of Leon Kennedy.
He came off the chopper like the unstoppable force he'd become. The rumor mill, the gossip factory, and the mouths of those involved flapped like mad regarding him. He was the President's golden boy, his hired gun, his spartan warrior. They called Leon Kennedy when they needed it done quiet, fast, and brutal.
She watched him climb out of the chopper like the hammer of god. One man. They sent one man. Were they kidding? Looking at him, she didn't think it was a joke. She thought the joke was on them. One man was all they were going to need.
He saw her across the tarmac. Some guy was talking to him. Leon nodded, hair whipping in the wind from the chopper blades.
She felt the smile lift her mouth. She lifted a hand and waved.
He winked at her.
Why did that make her feel about twelve years old? Jill chuckled a little at herself.
Beside her, Mira said, "Is he not the yummiest thing you've ever seen? Watch me play a little cat and mouse game with him."
Jill chuckled, amused. She clearly didn't know who she was messing with. But it would be fun to watch. Mira was pretty and all boobs and tiny hips. She was tiny in size, barely topping out at five feet. But she was also hilarious. Honestly, it would be fun to see her try.
Jill said, amused, "Go for it. He sure is something."
"Something yummy. I hear he killed a hundred men once with a fork, his fist, and a jar of pickles."
Jill nodded, delighted with the humor of it. "Oh yeah? I heard he killed that many zombies with a pashmina and a pillow and what was left of a People magazine."
Mira giggled a little, "What an image."
"Right?"
He came toward them and Jill moved back to engage someone else in conversation. She stayed close enough to listen to Mira make her move. Surprisingly, he was charming. Charming, a little flirty, and managed to come off flattering while still being clear about the declination of her offer. It was a helluva guy who could shoot down a girl and not leave her bitter.
Leon Kennedy pulled it off flawlessly.
Mira actually walked away charmed and a little in love with him.
Was there a woman alive who wasn't in love with Leon Kennedy?
Jill picked up some gear from the ground and started carrying it back to the building. She knew he was close behind her before he even spoke. "You trying to avoid me?"
"Don't flatter yourself, hotshot," Jill remarked pleasurably, "We've got a meeting to get to."
"We could just get on that chopper over there and run away instead."
She glanced at him and grinned, "You? Shirk your duty? Who are you kidding?"
"Why don't you stop and turn around and I'll show you how I shirk my duty."
"How do you make that sound dirty?" She laughed, loudly, "Don't be crass, Leon Kennedy, it doesn't suit you. Help me carry this."
Jill pushed it at him and he carried it, effortlessly. She walked beside him, aware that if they spent too long with each other, people would start talking. She was less inclined to care than usual.
"Crass? What a word. How have you been, Jill?"
"Great. You'd know if you'd called me."
"Ouch. In my defense, I haven't even been home since I last saw you. Between missions and more missions, I can't even remember what my loft looks like. I'm pretty sure my fish is dead though."
"Aw," Jill chuckled a little, "Poor Mr. Flippy."
"I sure hope my super keeps feeding him."
He would be concerned about his bug eyed gold fish. He was just that type of guy. She patted his arm sympathetically.
"What are we looking at here?"
"Could be a basic in and out. Could be a complete mess."
"Awesome. Enlighten me."
The mission was going to take them back to Terragrigia. It was going to dump them in the skeleton of their former playground. The intel told them that under Terragrigia, the remnants of Umbrella had taken refuge. There was whispers of Wesker and "the organization" which was a broad, very hard to find, ghost organization that was said to have its hands in more assassinations than the government.
It wasn't a bad place to have set up a secret lair, honestly. Terragrigia was cordoned off and off limits. No one ventured there. The effects of the damage were still widely controversial. The mass energy blast had decimated the town and whoever, whatever, and whatever had been left standing. But the lingering affects on the ecosystem were in question. The Queen Dido had gone down in flames and madness and monsterous mess but the rest of the city waited for their attention.
Fresh off the Harvardville incident, Leon was the first and only call. Chris had been irate when they told him. "Are you fucking kidding me? No offense to the guy but he's one dude! One! Bring the fucking military and go in there. Beard the dragon in his lair and fucking kill him! If Wesker is down there, one god damn guy won't stop him! Do you understand that? Barry, back me up here!"
They were in the conference room. Chris was still wounded but healing. Jill had recovered quickly and easily. Apparently, there were benefits to the T-Virus she'd carried once and the vaccine that had followed. She seemed to heal fast. She wanted to talk about that I love you, he'd said. He played it off with a joke. So she let it go. One didn't push Chris Redfield to get sappy. If you did, he balked a bit, and reverted to stoic professionalism or humor.
Barry Burton was sitting in a chair with the other members of the remaining BSAA founders. The BSAA was in the process of acquiring the FBC and being redesigned. Things were a mess at best. The UN was likely to assume control. And Clive was stepping down as director. Chris had tried to talk him out of it but he remained adamant. He'd still sit in as advisor. There was talk of Barry succeeding him.
It was offered to Chris, whom graciously declined. "No," He said, "I'm a field guy. Always will be. Not a suit."
Barry said, quietly, "One guy is the right way to go here, Chris. You spook him, god knows what he'll do. He's insane. And if he isn't down there? One guy gets in, gets out, and we have answers."
Chris shifted, angrily, there wasn't a face amongst them that was in his favor. "Fine! Then send me."
Barry said, "You're too hurt. What good would it do?"
Chris cursed angrily and smashed his fist on the table, the sound was loud and startling. Several jumped. Chris pointed at Leon who was sitting quietly against the far wall. "So, it's this guy or nothing?"
Jill replied, where she was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, "No. It's that guy. And me."
The faces all turned to her.
"I know that place like the back of my hand. I was the ambassador there. Kennedy and I were there together at one point. He can't go alone. But he can go with me."
She didn't look directly at him. She was afraid she'd turn to stone. She knew he was looking at her though. Instead, she moved to Chris and took his forearm in her hand, "You can lead the mission here. I'll stay in direct contact. You can't go. But I CAN."
She put her hand over his wounded shoulder. It was a mess. It was ragged and had been burned badly. She was shocked he hadn't lost the arm or use of it. But he hadn't. He just had to let it heal. He'd be scarred to all hell but functional. It was good enough.
"You saved my ungrateful life back there. Let me do this. I can do it. You know that."
Chris looked at her face. There were people all around them. He was known for his ability to separate the mission from the emotion. He never played, never flirted, and never fucked around. But she was his weakness, always had been. The only damn thing he broke the rules for, ever. He lifted his hand and put it over hers on his shoulder. There wasn't a person in the room that couldn't feel the intensity of it. Whatever else was true, these two people cared about each other. "Ok. But you're in charge. Make sure he knows that."
Jill nodded, watching his face. There was still something there. She wanted to know what it was. But Chris was careful to only show so much.
Against the wall, Leon said, "I'm not here to step on your toes, Redfield. You sent out the call for help. They sent me."
Chris turned to him, an angry storm, "I didn't ask for help. These people did. I helped found this fucking organization and some asshat disgrace came in and took a big dump right in the middle of my parade. I'm pissed. And rightly so. We've brought the bioterror ratio down since the BSAA was founded by nearly half. And in one ugly swing, Lansdale kicked it right in the crotch and jumped on my hitlist of people I'm going to destroy. Things are such a fucking mess here that the rest of these people asked for help. Do we get the CIA? Do we get the FBI? Do we get a clown car filled with AK47s and bombs? No. Naturally not. We get Leon Kennedy."
The other people in the room shifted uncomfortably at the tension.
Jill said, softly, "That's enough, Chris."
"No," He pointed at her and shifted to point at Leon, "You better be as good as they say. I read the Kennedy Report, so I know you're capable of rising above. But you're still one fucking guy."
"I was one fucking guy then too, Redfield. And I managed just fine."
"It only takes one mistake, Kennedy. I don't care how good you are."
Leon nodded, a little, "True. But I don't make mistakes."
"I guess we'll find out. Because you've got my organization hanging around your neck here. My big, ugly squalling mess of a baby is relying on you. Fuck this up, you join that hit list of people I'll destroy. I'll ruin you professionally. I will have you black balled from every doorstep and every dinner where there's potential for you to grow. And after that? I'll come after your fucking balls."
Leon shifted away from the wall now. There was that finally leashed rage around him that vibrated with intensity. "Watch where you go with this, Redfield. I can appreciate that you're pissed, I can't blame you. Getting wounded sucks. This whole thing is a shit show. But don't think that gives you the fucking green light to threaten me. I don't handle threats well."
"Not a threat, Kennedy. A promise. You don't just have my company hanging on your shoulders…this will be the third time you've been responsible for keeping what I care about most in this universe safe. Don't fucking let me down. You won't like what happens if you do."
"You talking about the BSAA or are you talking about the girl beside you?"
The room was so tense it was painful. But he answered, the man who never admitted to anything, Chris answered, "Both. One I can rebuild, the other I can't. You let anything happen to her, I'll make it my personal mission to bury you."
It was the first time, ever, Jill had heard him admit it out loud. She was touched at the same time she was little insulted. Did he think she needed Leon Kennedy to protect her? She wasn't Claire.
"Not sure if you realize this, but I have a tendency to save the girl."
"Keep joking, Kennedy. I heard that about you. All fucking charm and humor. But the jokes on you. You keep getting handed the things that matter to me most in the world, you skinny, arrogant little prick. You better be as good as they say."
"I'm not. I'm better."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Prove it."
Leon took another step toward him and so did Chris. This was going to go bad, very quickly.
Jill moved a little…and just like that, she was between them.
They both glanced down at her, surprised.
She held Leon's gaze for a long moment, giving him a pointed glare. Who poked a stick in the eye of a bear? This guy did. He clearly didn't know that Chris was the punch first, ask questions later type. And fast or not, if Chris got his hands on him, he was dead.
Jill turned and put her hands on that big chest. She pushed and it got Chris' attention. "Stop it. Now. You're not helping. You're pissed off and looking for a fight. He's not who you're mad at. You're mad at yourself. You got hurt. You can't fight now. And that makes you furious. But that's ok. Because I can fight. I don't need him to protect me. I'm not Claire."
Chris was still watching the other man over his head. "Move out of the way, Jill."
Jill pushed at him again, "Look at me. Now."
He glanced down at her. She could see what Leon Kennedy couldn't. He wasn't just hurting, he was scared. So used to being the guy who saved the day, he was being emasculated here. And worse yet? He was being told to stay home and twiddle his thumbs. Chris was an alpha dog. He didn't understand sit, stay, or roll over. He was watching everything he built implode from the inside and could do nothing. She knew it was killing him.
Punching the shit out of Leon Kennedy would make that easier to swallow for him.
"I'm not Claire. I don't need you to save me. I don't need Leon Kennedy to save me. I can save myself."
"Yeah? You nearly died a few weeks ago."
"Yes I did." And she saw it, in that moment, she saw the hardest part for him. He was afraid he was the only man on earth that could keep her alive. "Look at me."
He did but it cost him. Because looking at her was harder than threatening Leon Kennedy. It cost him to look at her. He'd held her while she'd bled on that fucking ship. He'd held her when she stopped breathing. He'd held her and wanted to love her.
And he was a wise enough man to know that that door was not for him and her to open together. She'd never quite given him the signs that she was interested in that. So the door stayed closed. But nearly losing her had stuck a foot in it for him. He would close it again and wedge it shut but for now, he was a little raw about letting her go out again so soon.
"You have to trust me. I know what I'm doing. And so does he. You can't do this, Chris. But I CAN. You know that. It's ok to be afraid but I can do this."
He scanned her face, twice, three times. "If there's a choice, you or him? You let him go."
"Chris…" She shook her head, smiling, "You big softie. Of course, I won't let him go. You know me better than that."
"I do…damn you." He raised his head again, "You and me? I can see this from a hundred yards. You bring her back untouched. Or I'll feed you those pretty white teeth."
"I'd love to see you try. Keep flexing all those muscles. I don't need them to kick your ass."
Jill pointed at Leon over her shoulder. Idiot man. "Stop it. Quit antagonizing him. Jesus, you two are so alike."
Both of them looked offended by that.
"You two flaming bags of testosterone need to go somewhere and cool off. Now. This is my mission. I'm in charge. Go stick your balls on ice and deal with it."
She pushed on Chris again, "I mean it, Chris. Now."
He made some sound of frustration and jerked away from her.
She felt him go like a burst of angry, burning flame. Leon stood behind her like an icy wind. She was trapped between two opposing forces. It was a rough place to be.
Chris stormed out and the other members started to disband. Jill took a deep breath and let it out. It had been close. She didn't need these two fighting it out in the conference room over pride. Geez Louise.
Jill gathered up her notebook and followed them out the door. She wasn't going to stay. She wasn't ready to face Leon Kennedy yet although she knew he was still standing there.
What was there to say?
Hey Jill, sorry I left like that but thanks for the naked soul bearing? It was too awkward. She wasn't sure why it irked her to have found him gone but it had. She didn't like cowards. And she felt like he'd fled screaming from her.
Honestly she was a little worried how the dynamic of their relationship was going to shift the mission. She and Chris had always had ease on missions. No matter what they did or didn't do in the bedroom. Hopefully Leon Kennedy knew where to tow the line the same way.
She went to mission preparation to start gathering weapons. The prep team guided her through the scenario. They'd enter by submarine pods and have to enter underwater to the main facility. The concepts said that the main part of the original lab building was still accessible and preserved. The top floors could be accessed from the bottom. They'd been built intentionally to resist water. What was the purpose of an aquapolis if a little water were to sink it? So, the functionality of the buildings beneath the water was said to be in a good shape.
The few probes they'd sent in had confirmed there was life down there. They just didn't know if it was human or mutant. If the hunters hadn't died above ground, they may have gone to thrive under the water. Or it was the splinter cell of bad guys. That was the idea.
She found Chris in his office, rifling through papers. He glanced up at her as she entered. He was starting to get as big as he'd been trying to when she'd met him. His shirt was tight and fit in all the right places. All muscle, all business, all bullshit.
She and Chris had been doing it, obviously. They were easy with each other, friends with benefits when it suited, and safe behind the closed doors of their mutual respect for each other. Objectively, you had to love Chris Redfield. He was handsome and funny and stupidly adorable. But she had never really considered being anything permanent with him. They made perfect friends and awesome partners and fabulous best friends. He didn't get jealous when she dated, she didn't get jealous when he did. That told them both that, although they were attracted to each other, it wasn't the kind that moved mountains or made marriages. He was dynamite in bed, no joke, but so was she. And it was so casually infrequent that it never hurt their relationship to do it.
And then he'd said I love you on that boat. And everything she thought she knew was lost and muddled. She was a little confused for the first time in long time.
She closed the door to his office and leaned on it. "Spill it, Redfield. What's the problem?"
He slapped down the papers. "You cock blocked me in there. You sided with that skinny wimp. I can handle this fucking mission, Jill. We don't need him."
She loved all that energy he had. The simmer of a boil beneath the surface. She was the only one that ever got to see it. He was so careful to spill it only when he couldn't contain it anymore. Chris Redfield was lava. He burned where he touched.
And he was burning now. She'd wounded him in there. She'd hit him in the pride. And he had a shit ton of it. Sympathetic and a little irritated at the same time, Jill said, "You men. You get your pride slapped and you balk like a baby. I didn't pick his side. I picked yours, you blithering idiot. I won't let you go out there and die to prove how tough you are. What happens to me if you die?"
"I don't die that easy, sweetcheeks. You know that. I'm fucking fine. I don't need to be babysat and cooed over. Point, shoot, punch. I can do all three."
"Damnit, Chris. What happens to me if you die?"
"You'll survive it. You're stronger than anyone I've ever met."
A compliment of the highest water. She smiled a little. "You sneaky little shit. You're trying to turn my attention from the issue here. Answer the question."
Frustrated, he huffed and knocked a file off his desk. Yeah, he was mad. He tended to fuck stuff up when he was mad. "It's a stupid question. I'm not dying!"
"No? You're immortal now?"
"Yeah I am. Me and Wesker."
"You fucking men…" She lifted a brow, "Come here."
"What?"
"Come here, now."
She remained the ONLY person on earth he took orders from. It meant something to her that he did. He rose and came around the desk. She braced, waited, and spun a back kick at him. Surprised, he blocked it. She went in again, ducking to throw a powerhouse uppercut at his stomach.
He blocked it and jerked her forward by her arm, throwing her out and away.
"It's like that huh?"
"Prove me wrong and I'll back your play. Come on, you fat bag of pissed off rage, kick my ass."
"Fat?!" He lifted his shirt and showed off that ridiculous stomach of his. He was corrugated muscle from one end to the other. "That's low."
"Lay off the nachos, tubby."
"No nachos here, sweetcheeks."
"Liar. I can smell the cheese in here like bad perfume."
He laughed and braced, curling his hand to beckon her. "Let's do it then, you feisty little thing. Come on."
She rushed him. Speed wasn't his best attribute. He caught her throat as she feinted and picked her up off the ground. She drove a kick into his knee, spun, and dropped her elbow to break his hold. She rolled across his back as she went and jerked his arm up between his shoulders.
He hissed, going stiff from pain. "See?" She said against his ear, "Uncle?"
"Please." He hooked his ankle around hers and jerked. She went backward still holding on. He rolled through it, twisting her arm out and hyperextending it. She had the advantage because he wasn't going to punch her. It limited his abilities.
Instead he jerked that arm, got a shout of surprise from her, and drove an elbow into her back as she bent double. She went down and would have face planted but he looped his other arm around her waist and lifted her, dangling her one armed like a sack of grain.
"Uncle?"
She bit his back.
He yelped, surprised, and dropped her. She fell to her knees and drove her head into his stomach. She grabbed his calves as he staggered and jerked. He hit his back and hissed, jarring his shoulder.
She climbed on top of him and crossed his arms over his chest, pushing her weight down to hold him there.
"You realize I can get out of this right? Although you could also just keep sitting there. But wiggle a little and make it fun."
She lifted a brow and smirked, "You don't need me to wiggle. Getting your ass kicked works like a charm for you, you dirty pervert. I can already tell you're happy I'm sitting here."
He chuckled and shrugged…and winced. "I'm a dude. Sue me."
"You always get wood when you're fighting."
He seemed to think about it. "Probably. Especially fighting hot chics."
"Lecher."
He laughed again.
"Still think you can do this?"
"Yup."
"Yeah?"
"You bet."
She let go of his arms. He grabbed at her hips and rubbed against her a little bit. Jill laughed. "Yep. Lecher. You feeling frisky?"
"Naturally. Lock the door, I'll show you what I can do."
"Yeah?"
"Oh yeah."
Jill leaned over him. He grinned, wolfishly. She grabbed his face and he closed his eyes. She rolled her eyes. Men were so easy. Always thinking it was about fucking. She ran her hand over his neck…and slapped his bad shoulder. Hard.
He humped her off him so hard she went up and fell over on her side.
"BITCH!"
He was pale faced as he rolled away, curled against the pain.
"Yeah. You're ready. You go hand to hand with some fucking hunter down there, you'll lose. And you'll die. And if I need carried out again? You can't even do that. You can't even pick me up and hold me to fuck me, you dumb man. You know I don't like to do all the work."
He looked sick to his stomach kneeling there. She felt bad. She did. But he needed the hard dose of truth.
"Stay here. If you die on me down there being a dumb shit, I'll haunt your fucking grave. I love you, you roid rager. Stay here."
"Get back over here and give me a hug. You hurt me."
"No way." Jill laughed and stood. "You're going to hurt me if I do."
"…maybe a spanking. But you'll probably like that."
"Perv." She moved to the office door. "Don't be stupid, Chris. Stop thinking with your dick. That goes double for fighting or fucking. Either can get you killed in the wrong place and time."
"Help me up. You skinny meanie."
"No." Jill chuckled as she opened the door, "You'll just grab my ass again like on the chopper that time."
"I had to shoot the ladder! The nasty monster was going to eat me otherwise."
"Uh-huh. And my ass was all you could find to hold on to?"
"It was the biggest thing in the chopper!"
"Asshole. Kiss ass, Redfield. This ass? FABULOUS."
"I have never heard someone use ass so many times in one sentence. Kudos. And true. Come here and let me grab it again. I'm fixin ta fall over."
Fixin ta. His go to phrase. There was just enough accent when he got going that she knew he'd grown up in the Midwest some place where they said ya'll and fixin ta. Southern Missouri? He'd never really said.
She eyed him a little. She moved to help him up because she wasn't a complete bitch. He didn't even grope her. Jokes or not, Chris was, at the core, a good guy. He knew when to flirt and when to back off.
She wanted to ask about that I love you. All the time she'd known him, there'd never been that edge to the I love you. What had it meant? What did it mean? And could it matter?
She'd flirted around the idea of finding out if he was it for her. All those years ago. But it had never been right, the timing odd, the feeling of losing him broad and painful. So they were so safe with each other. Flirting, god yes, and even knowing when the other needed more but never that…line she'd started walking with Leon Kennedy. That dangerous tightrope just wasn't Chris Redfield's style. She felt like, maybe, if the I love you had been more he would have just said it.
No bullshit.
What would it do if he said it? After all this time, if he just said Jill, I love you, would she drop it all to give him a chance? She helped him to lean on the desk and even went about redressing the wounded shoulder she'd beat the shit out of. Could she love him like that?
He met her eyes as she rubbed the salve gently on his burned flesh. He was so big, she could barely get her arms around him. Too big really for his own good but he'd never listened to her about that. She lifted her eyes and gave him back that studious expression. Could she love him like that?
"What's in that brain of yours, Jilly Bean?"
Jilly Bean. These men and their stupid nicknames. Jilly Bean. Ridiculous. And she loved when he said it.
She was very close to him, he was very shirtless, and they'd just spent ten minutes smacking each other around. It was a weird form of foreplay and one they'd done for years. This was usually when they finished up with a roll on the desk and a couple drinks. Harmless.
Why was now different?
Was it the I love you?
Or was it Leon Kennedy?
She said, "I'm thinking of you, you big bastard. What else?"
"I tend to take over the minds of the ladies, true. It's my witty repartee that does it, honestly."
Jill chuckled and rolled her eyes, "You are, literally, the most boring man on earth on a mission. You think any of the other agents here believe me when I tell them you're funny?"
"I make jokes all the time."
"Not with any other girls you work with. Ever. You're so uptight that Mira told me she figured they could shove a lump of coal up your ass and you'd squeeze out a diamond."
Chris laughed, impressed. He liked Mira. "Nothing wrong with towing the line, Jilly Bean."
"Agreed. It's respectable. Keeps the distance. Doesn't let anyone in. But…" She cupped his cheek and rubbed the stubble there, "Look at you. You're sexy. You're funny. You're clearly a gentleman. You're a catch. Aren't you lonely? You should have someone, Chris. Someone who makes you laugh and loves you a lot and wants to have your babies."
He studied her, quietly, "I got the first part down and the last part? I don't need babies, Jill. Something else for Wesker to take and torture? No."
Oh. Ohhh. So the I love you had been different. Jill realized, maybe too late, he was kinda in love with her. Well…so that's how that happened. It made sense. They got each other. They clicked. They were best friends. There was always going to be that…what if, that floated around them. But it wasn't scary. And it wasn't boggy. He would never make it awkward for her or press it or push her.
Could she love him like that?
The answer, two years ago, would have been yes. If he'd pressed then, pushed then, she would have given him more. She was a coward about feelings like that sometimes. But she would have given it her best shot. She would have opened her heart and let him try for it.
But things had changed.
And the thing that had changed was there wandering around somewhere outside the office.
She said now, "You big fat fool. Why are you always so slow to get there? You could have had me in Raccoon City. Where were you then? I was so into you. You punched that cheating bastard in the face for me. You had me. Damn you."
She leaned over and kissed him. Because she did love him. Because she was kinda sorry it was probably too late for them. Because he was her guy. Always would be. And he'd made her life better, cleaner, funnier and full of love. He'd never let her dwell, never let her break, he picked her up and carried her and dragged her when he couldn't. She'd sat on top of him in Russia and held his guts in his belly after that damn Tyrant had near eviscerated him. He'd gotten in that shower and loved her on the floor of it when that damned Nemesis had nearly killed her. It wasn't the love that made songs, no, but it was the kind that endured, long after the idea of romance had fled, it was the love that built friendships and that lasted a lifetime.
He was her rock. And he'd waited too long to roll toward her. On the back of a jetski, in the middle of a quiet night, Leon Kennedy had zipped right past him and gotten in there. For better or worse, it was what it was.
The thing about Chris Redfield was that he'd never hurt her for it. And he'd never let it linger like a bad smell between them. He'd shrug it off, let it hurt, and put it away. He was just that easy going. They were right for each other.
And maybe he was simply too late.
So, she kissed him. And he was really good at the kissing. Always had been. He didn't push, didn't grope. He waited, like the predator he was. He'd let her kill him or kiss him or fuck him or walk away. Her guy. Yeah. He was her guy.
It was a moment when he was wrong. He should have pushed. He should have groped. He should have taken her. Because by being so simple, so calm, so steady…he'd let her slip right through his fingers.
When she drew back to look at him, his eyes were still closed, and he was so big, so much, so rough and soft and squishie and sweet and stupid. She regretted, just a little, that it was maybe too late for that.
He opened one eye and looked at her. "Keep going. Use tongue."
Jill laughed a little. "Can't do it, you old pervert. Got a mission to get to."
"I'm kinda in charge. So, I can push that off." He patted the desk, "We got three or four minutes before you have to go."
"Geez, Chris, four minutes? How can I say no?"
He chuckled. "You want to tell me who's inside that head? I'd like to say it's me. But we both know it isn't."
She looked for the anger in his face about that. There was none. Her guy, no hard feelings. "It's you. You're always in there. I kinda wish it was all you in there."
"Shit, me too. Give me those four minutes, it will be."
She laughed. "I can't tell you what's in me. Not yet. But I will as soon as I know myself. Hey?"
"Hmm?" He was slipping his shirt on, hissing a little.
"Where was that I love you a few years ago?"
He glanced at her and shrugged a little, "You know me, a little slow to get there sometimes."
"For the record, I would have said yes back then."
He smiled a little and there it was, she realized, there was the regret. But he wouldn't dwell in it. He didn't know how to do that. He'd just absorb it and move on. Chris laughed, a little bitterly, "Yeah. I wasn't ready then."
"Sometimes we just have to figure things happen for a reason."
"Hell yeah they do. Jill, I wouldn't sacrifice this for anything in the world. Including the chance to be your guy."
"I know that. Me either. But you are my guy, always. There is nobody on earth that could change that. You?" She gestured to him and then to her chest. She rubbed it a little and nodded, "Yep. That's where you are."
"Between your boobs? Tease." And he said with no rancor, no pain. He just laughed a little. That was them. It was so good there. She was a fool to not love him that way.
But there was Leon Kennedy.
"I love you, Chris. Tell me you don't know that."
"I know it. I wish it was followed with a hand job sometimes. But I know it."
"You are such a pervert." Jill laughed loudly, "Tell me you'll stay put. Please."
"…I'll stay put. For a hand job."
"Lecher."
Jill left the office laughing.
The fight had done its job. He was staying put. But it was a double edged sword. They both loved a good fight. He wasn't the only one turned on by it. It was coupled with knowing that somewhere in this damn building was Leon Kennedy. And she had that thing in her blood for him that was starting to feel a lot like longing.
Chris was never complicated. She could go back in that office and erase everything with a sweaty ten minute fuck. Part of her wanted to do that. A lot.
But somewhere in this building was Leon Kennedy.
She was a mess.
Jill went back to her room to change into her wet suit and get ready to head out. She was in just her underwear when there was a knock on the door.
"Hold on please." She threw on a shirt and some yoga pants.
She opened the door to see Leon Kennedy standing there. The gods were somewhere laughing at her. Apparently she was in for round two of the emotional baggage show down. It wasn't even 10 a.m.
