Let's pretend we're in a time machine. The shit in the third chapter in italics, is the present. Our story is in the past. There is gonna be a few chapters in the present time as a side story. The main story takes place in the past before the shit in the third chapter went down.
*Crickets*
*Slams keyboard* It's gonna make fucking sense, I swear!
Claire awakens with the sun on her face and the sheets tangled between her legs. A dull pain at the base of her spine and the space on the right side of her hip where the bone made a barely noticeable ridge under her skin. She extends her arms and legs and gives a good morning stretch accompanied by a well rested yawn. Wiggling her toes, she wraps the sheet around herself and heads toward the bathroom at the end of the hall. Her bedroom door wide open oddly. On her way, she peeks into Dylan's room to find an empty but well made bed and figures she's not the only one who got lucky last night and continues on her journey to the bathroom.
Once she gets there, she flips the light switch and drops the sheet. Giving all her attention to the shower as she turns the knob and extends her hand to catch the cold water. Waiting for the water to run hot.
The shower was good enough. The hot water massaged her sore muscles and woke her up enough so she could wash without nodding off. At one point, fumbling for her toothbrush and toothpaste sitting on the sink to get the morning breath out of her mouth.
Once she was done, she dried herself off with her baby blue cotton towel and hung it up on the shower rod to dry. Walking au natural back to her bedroom. Where she picked her gray Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle shirt (which was getting really small on her) and her Bugs Bunny pj bottoms (which she had for years) and dressed herself lazily. Tying her hair up in a ponytail before heading to the kitchen to make herself a bowl of Lucky Charms. Oh, she was a child at heart.
Digging up the essential items and throwing them into a bowl, she plops down on the couch and reaches for the TV remote sitting on the coffee table.
Somewhere in the middle of watching Wile E Coyote fail for the millionth time to kill the Road Runner and sipping the left over milk from the bowl, she looks around at her apartment. Out the large windows at the buzzing city to the couch cushion beside her (that saw way much more action than it should), to the fake granite topped island separating the kitchen from the living room. Where a small white bag with Romano's Bakery written in red French script on the side sat. Picture worthy next to a white piece of paper and a styrofoam coffee cup.
How she didn't see it before was beyond her, but she set the bowl on the coffee table and got up to investigate. She looks at the paper first.
Had to go to work. Everyone is very fond of Romano's. Hopefully the coffee is still warm when you get to it. Have a good morning.
~A.W
The note was written in perfect cursive. She set the note down and dug into the bag.
"Yum," she said as she pulled out a chocolate eclair. The coffee was lukewarm, so she took one sip and decided to pour it into the sink as she nibbled on the eclair.
Just as she's shaking the last few drops out of of the cup, the front door opens and Dylan steps in. Eyes red, hair a mess. He closes and locks the door, before walking over and collapsing onto the couch.
"I have," he says. "The biggest hangover."
"So he takes me back to his place, right? And by then I had, what, like fifteen drinks so we're falling all over the place." Dylan says as he stirs the tea bag around in his mug. "We start getting busy on the couch, and his mom walks in!"
"His mom?" Claire says, eyebrows raising. "How old was he?"
"Oh he was twenty two," he answers lifting the mug. "I checked his wallet." And he takes a sip.
"Wow." She says, leaning back in her chair.
Dylan makes a noise as he swallows his tea and waves his hand. "Oh!" He sets his mug down again. "I was so wasted, when she walked in, I yelled 'join us!' Which disturbs me on many levels."
Claire giggles and finishes off the rest of her eclair.
"So how did it go with Tall, Dark, and Fabulous?"
Claire shrugs. "Well, you know. We talked kind of. Then he walked me home."
Dylan groans. A dramatic show of needing to know and Dylan just being Dylan. "You're such a tease! Tell me more!"
Claire smirks. She loved teasing him. It was her hobby. "Well," she says. Dragging out the 'ell'.
"Cut the four play!"
"One shouldn't kiss and tell." She finally says.
"One shouldn't- you whore!" He says exasperated. "Give it to me straight, Doc."
"Fine. We did the," she pauses, trying to find words that didn't seem so vulgar. "The deed."
"Oh yeah." Dylan responds. Grinning proudly. "My Claire got laid." He leans back and folds his hands behind his head. "So how was he?"
Claire blinks. "He was great." She says and adds as an afterthought, "Never knew I could be that flexible."
"Keep it going. Daddy likes to get down and dirty."
"We did it on the couch."
Dylan's smile disappears and he stares at her. "You know everyone has to sit there right? I mean for the sake of baby Jesus, I eat Lucky Charms there."
"Dylan, you and I both know the white stains on that couch are not milk stains." Claire deadpans, crossing her arms.
"Well, were you bottom or top?"
"Both." She answers before realizing that was the sluttiest thing that's left her mouth.
"Your bare ass touched the cushions, Claire!"
"Well maybe we should get a new couch." She suggests.
"Well if we all fucked on it, maybe we should!"
"Good!"
"Good!" Dylan said as he stood up and grabbed his keys that he had set on the table. Claire watched as he walked to the front door and pulled it open.
"Where are you going?"
"To Ikea!" He yells back before closing the door behind him.
Claire shakes her head with a smile on her face. Men were such simple creatures.
She stops, her smile disappears and her eyes go wide. "Oh shit."
In the heart of Raccoon City Police headquarters, took place the game of the month; a serious game of silent touch football. On one side of the STARS department stood Chris, Joseph, and Jill. On the other stood Forrest, Rebecca, and that new guy. Leon. Who had happened to pass by when they were picking teams and evened everything out.
Chris had the ball, which was really just a lot of pieces of crumpled pieces of paper stuck together with a bunch rubber bands. He stuck it under his arm and made a run toward he end zone by the windows, jumping over a chair with Leon and Forrest trailing behind him. Jill and Joseph on their tails. Jill manages to touch Forrest on the back with a little more force than intended, making him trip over his feet and fall on his face. Chris reaches the windows and throws the ball to the floor, cheering silently. He picks the ball up and they walk back to the center of the office.
He mouths hike and watches as Jill and Joseph run toward their end-zone. He throws the ball to Jill but is intercepted by Leon who throws it back to Rebecca by the doors to the office. He throws it higher than anticipated and it flies just over her head, hitting the stoic man behind her in the face. Who, Chris swears to baby Jesus, wasn't there before.
Captain Wesker stands stock still as the paper ball hits him on the forehead with a scowl. Everyone in the room, very aware of the captains strict and sometimes cruel punishments, stands very still. As if he had the eyesight of a tyrannosaurus and not moving would ensure safety among the masses.
"I assume you are all on break." He says slowly with the kind of authority that can make a grown man quiver.
Chris clears his throat, "our shift hasn't started yet sir. We were just trying to pass the time until then."
"Need I remind you that you have a stack of reports that need to be filed?" He says as he walks to his office door.
"I'll get right on it." Chris says.
Wesker disappears into his office and Chris goes back to his desk. "That's weird."
"He'd usually make us do reception work all day for that." Jill added. Back at her own desk.
"Maybe he's happy." Forrest shrugs. "Hey! Maybe he got laid."
"Explains a lot." Chris shrugs.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. The rest of the morning consisted of this single, repetitive chant. She said it as she looked through the garbage, under the couch, and between the couch cushions looking for the disgusting piece of evidence. She said it once more as she grabbed her keys and left the apartment in her pajamas to go to the nearest pharmacy. The girl behind the counter smirked as she checked out her purchase, and with a shocked gasp she snatches the paper bag and leaves the pharmacy.
Back at the apartment, she sits on the side of the tub and stares at the little stick of plastic sitting on the sink. Mocking her with the evil intensity of Satan on LSD. She doesn't really know why she made that comparison but her two minutes were up and the moment of truth was being thrust upon her. Wasn't that what lead to this?
"Oh shit", she says for the final time as she picks the pregnancy test up and looking at it. The symbol was supposed to be a line if you were pregnant; a circle if you weren't.
Claire gasps out a sigh of relief as the circle stares up at her, before tossing it into the garbage. "Shee-it."
Later that day...
"Can you explain to me why," Dylan says as he appears in the doorway of Claire's bedroom, "why I went to take a piss and this was staring up at me?"
Claire looks up from her laptop to find Dylan holding her pregnancy test wrapped in toilet paper.
There's a certain feeling that crawls inside and makes a nest of quesiness and remorse in the pit of your stomach when you know you've just been caught. Pants down and bent over a barrel (figuritely. I hope.), and the only thing you can do is not move and hope whoever caught you has the eyes and sight of a tyrannosaurus.
"I can explain that."
Dylan gives her the 'oh really' look.
"Well," she starts, choosing the right words in her head. "We were drinking last night, and naturally I got shit faced. Long story short, I don't remember if he covered up. It was just a test."
Dylan blinks and with a straight face says, "I don't like this new Claire."
"I'm on the pill, it was just to be sure!"
Dylan 'mmm hmm's in that way that says 'yeah okay'. "But if I see this in our garbage can again, I'm personally going to take you to a convent."
Claire laughs as Dylan walks away, to the bathroom to throw out the little stick of shame. "I'm serious! No more sex for you!"
Even later that day...
It was decided a little while later that the apartments food supply was running low, so both Claire and Dylan took a trip down to the local grocery store. That's where the day took a strange, and dramatic, turn. It started when a middle aged woman the size and shape of a pumpkin decided to cut at the checkout line. Claire had politely asked her to go to the back of the line like any decent human being, but the lady, (we'll call her Pumpy), gave her a dirty look and said something so vague and obscene, even I am not allowed to repeat it.
"Excuse me?" Claire said in disbelief.
Dylan, who stood behind her, muttered an "oh shit" and took a sip from his iced coffee. Hoping and praying it didn't end up like last time. Last time the cops were called.
And then it all went to hell. There was hair pulling, slapping, scratching- this is starting to sound like a bed-sport. Claire was the victor simply because Pumpy couldn't roll off her back as she dug her nails into Claire's skin and hung on for dear life. And I say this because Pumpy was kicking her ass.
It was just like last time. Some society do-gooder called the police and arrested them both. Claire was in handcuffs as the two officers tried to figure out a way to get Pumpy up and in cuffs. An hour later, Claire was sitting in the Raccoon City Precinct. Hand cuffed to the bench where she sat. Waiting impatiently for Dylan to come to her rescue.
Wesker, on the other side of the precinct, was on his fifth round of paperwork. Less than four hours of sleep and craving coffee. Even that watered down version from a vending machine which was tepid at best. He leans back in his chair and sighs, rubbing his temples. Today was going to be a long, boring day. He looks down at his watch; five fifty-two. His shift didn't end until nine thirty which seemed like a lifetime away.
Sighing again, he pushes back his chair and stands, making his way out of his office. Noticing, with displeasure, that Chris had taken to throwing a paper ball up toward the ceiling and catching it as it came back down. Noticing that Wesker was watching him, Chris quickly turns back to the stack of papers in front of him. Letting the ball fall to the floor.
Wesker continues on his way and before long he's reached the coffee machine stationed conveniently in the lobby. It was there, as he's pushing quarters into the coin slot, that he realizes a familiar red head was sitting across the room. Glumly staring at her shoes with a her fist holding up her bored head. He paused as he stared at her. What were the odds a random one night stand would show up at your place of work? He bets high and lays his cards on the table. Forgetting the toilet water ridiculously regarded as coffee, he strides across the room.
Claire was thinking about how she really needed a new pair of comfy "walk around" sneakers, but in the middle of the thought, a tall figure invaded her personal bubble. Unwelcome and damn uninvited.
"What?" She says as she looks up. Shoving her attitude to whoever dared disturb her. Only, it wasn't a stranger because just last night, they were real familiar.
"What the hell?" She says, sitting up slightly. Her attitude sent running back home with its figurative tail between its figurative legs. "You're a cop?"
"You're a criminal?" He answers. His voice showing little surprise.
"I am not!" She defends herself quickly. "I'm just misunderstood."
Wesker's face showed what may have been confusion, though it could have been anything.
Claire sighs. "The fat lady started it."
"Mm hmm." This day had just gotten interesting. "I don't even want to know." He says before turning on his heel and starting toward the vending machine.
"Hey, wait!" Claire calls, going to stand and forgetting she was handcuffed and sits back down.
Wesker turns back toward her. "Yes?"
"Can't you do something?" She gestures to the cuffs. "About this?"
He clicks his tongue. "I'll see."
And he walks away. Not to the vending machine like she thought, but to the reception desk on the other side of the large room. Minutes pass as Wesker talks to the man behind the reception desk. He looks from Wesker to Claire before he nods, standing and walking over to her.
"Lucky day, miss." He says as he pulls a ring of keys from his belt and unlocks her cuffs.
"Thanks," she says as she stands. Rubbing her wrists. She looks around for Wesker who is still at the reception desk. Watching her before he walks back over.
"Thanks a lot." She says.
"Mmm," Wesker replies. "Don't make it a habit."
"I see you're all work and no play on the job."
"Well, you see, I'd like to keep my job."
This time it was Claire who 'hmm'ed. A habit she might have picked up from a certain blonde.
Wesker looks down at his watch which had just switched from five fifty-nine to six o'clock. How convenient.
"I might as well offer to drive you home." He sighs.
"You don't have to." She says, sticking her hands in her back pockets.
"Im insisting, lest you end up on the seven o'clock news."
What a dick, she thinks. "Fine then."
Wanna see some shit? ;)
