DISCLAIMER: I do not own Resident Evil, or the characters used within. I own only my computer, my OC's, my imagination and my dozens of unpublished and unwritten stories.

A little bit of review response before we continue, since I didn't get around to it before:

Ripsi: Budddddy! I'm glad you're pleased and let me say as a HUGE fan of your work, it makes it ultra special that you've been following my own work. Optio has been like my fanfiction staple since I began reading it. About Leon, yeah he is but I think anyone who knows me can say that I don't give Leon a lot of credit, even really where it's due. Though when I was writing the first chapter I didn't really think about that. I just sort of started writing and ran with it, so... OH and you should know, I plan on rewriting Vas Domus as a little side project - along with my other 800 side projects. But I sincerely appreciate your critique because I know what a wonderful writer you are and I just finished reading A Vicious Cycle and I gotta say, I totally dig Kick. She's my favorite OC! It's so difficult to write OCs without Mary-Sue'ing em up and you did wonderful! Keep on reading and I will too. I wait with bated breath for the next chapter of Optio.

AryaRiker: Thank you so much! I had a good time writing it but I do plan on rewriting it because I don't find it to be as detail oriented as I would like. A lot of my problems with writing stem from not transitioning from one subject to another smoothly. Thanks so much for reading and following and I promise you will get more whenever I am able to get it to you!

hakukaen: Your bribes are the fuel I need to keep going and thank you. Inspiration is a difficult thing to come by these days, I wish I could just buy it at the store. I won't lie though, I do tend to find inspiration in the oddest things. As for the party...Wesker's Phantom of The Opera mask was inspired by an XNALara model I found lol, for example. Just weird things like that but thanks for keeping track and staying with me!

Naoko Suki: We go back huh? Lol. Far enough. You have been reading my stories since I began really posting on here and you have no idea how much I love love love ya for it. You also give me lovely reviews for every chapter which I appreciate so much and always look forward to. Needles dont bother me that much but I know that even the most tough girls have one or two things that make em squeamish, although a huge needle in my hip would scare the crap out of me lol. And yeah I wanted to dress em up, I even did a picture for it which I'll post in a bit just check out my deviant Art account on my homepage. Actually I have a lot of pics I made I haven't put up yet, so...thanks for reminding me! Keep reading and reviewing, you always up my spirits with your reviews.

elevenzombiezz: You've been following my stories too for quite some time! You have no idea how much I appreciate that. You guys are one of the things that keep me pushing on when I feel like I couldn't write one more chapter. The whole reason I pushed myself to finish Vas Domus was because of you, my readers, my fans. Lol, that sounds weird. Anyway, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Breaking The Glass

Sequel to Vas Domus

...

IV

[Shatter]

...

Put on your pretty lies, you're in the city of wonder
Ain't gonna play nice, watch out you might just go under
Better think twice, your train of thought will be altered
So if you must falter be wise
...

When Claire returned from the party she made straight for her room, faking a yawn and for some reason feeling uncomfortable from the evening's events. She wasn't actually tired, and mostly her feet were just sore but she didn't feel like staying around him for any longer than necessary. He had been the perfect gentleman this evening and it did nothing to soothe her and ultimately confused her even more. Despite her course of fleeing the living room, Wesker seemed to have a different idea, grabbing her wrist before she could hit the stairs.

"Dear heart, just a moment," Confused she turned around and watched him remove one of those god-awful syringes again and uncap it. She sighed as he took her arm, "It's better you be protected don't you think?"

"I guess... It just burns." She lied, not caring if he called her on it. She really hated shots of any kind.

"It does not burn. There," He was done already? She hadn't even felt that, "Don't let me keep you." Contrary to that statement he hadn't released her arm and she raised her eyebrow at him. However when he finally did let her go she didn't move. She felt she should at least thank him for taking her out and letting her have some fun. They stood in silence for a few moments before she leaned up on her tiptoes and slid her lips across his cheek. The kiss was brief and impersonal, the way she had preferred it but inside the sensation of his skin on her lips made her feel very warm inside. She looked up at him and found him smiling just the smallest bit. Good, he wasn't angry, though his eyebrow was raised in a way that made it felt like he was going to tease her.

"And just what was that for?" He asked, his voice sounding almost...playful. If Wesker didn't do playful she might have assumed it was. At a loss for anything else to do she shrugged.

"I just wanted to thank you for taking me with you tonight. You could have left me here and you didn't so... I appreciate it." Maybe she was smiling but she couldn't tell, her lips were numb. A freaking kiss on the cheek shouldn't have made her feel so weird. It was like a kiss she would have given a friend or her brother but somehow this man had a tendency to exaggerate everything she did and every feeling she had by his presence alone.

"It was my pleasure, dear heart. You made good company." She couldn't believe it, was that a real smile on his face? And he had said it was his pleasure. Well, gee golly.

"Well... Goodnight Wesker." She turned to walk down the hall and a part of her was sorry he didn't stop her but she was somewhat glad he didn't. She didn't want to make this situation weird and hanging around any longer than that might have. She didn't stop until she reached her room and she heard his voice behind her.

"Sleep well, dear heart."

...

Claire sat by the telephone in Wesker's office, tapping her fingers against the cradle and blew out exagerratedly. Honestly it was just one little phone call, what was there to be nervous about anyway? It had taken enough courage as it was to even ask him if she could make the call in the first place and he had been awfully receptive to it. Even offered to allow her the use of his own personal office to do so in. She didn't want to waste his very rare good nature, one which she had been seeing a lot more of lately. He was much less high strung though by no means was he relaxed but he was more at ease.

He was around her at least.

Weaving the little white card between her fingers she ran her other hand along the spine of the phone, watching the plain screensaver weave in and out on the locked desktop across from her. She hadn't actually checked if it was locked because she in no way wanted to fall out of Wesker's so-called good graces but knowing him it definitely would be. She briefly wondered what he kept on it but she was sure she pretty much new already. It wasn't like he'd be looking up porn or anything...

...

...or would he?

Quickly deciding that she would honestly rather not know if her 'gracious' host kept visual masturbatory aids on his computer she finally picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card before she could chicken out again.

She waited through three rings while holding a very large breath and was about to hang up through the fourth when a giggling voice rang out femininely.

"Birkin residence!"

"Umm...yes...is Frances there?" Claire blew out the breath she was holding and inside her head a little voice was squalling out 'Omigod! It's Sherry!' even though she had no idea if it actually was Sherry. If it was she certainly sounded more womanly than the little pre-teen squeak of her younger years.

"Yeah, just hold on one second okay?" Well, if it was Sherry she hadn't recognized her voice, though that wasn't surprising. It had been a long time ago since the Raccoon incident and Sherry had only been with her for a day. Ten years was a pretty long time to actually really remember someone's voice.

"This is Frances Birkin, how can I help you?"

"Hello, umm...it's Claire Redfield, we met at that party the other-"

"Yes dear I remember. Old age hasn't quite gotten me yet. It's nice to hear from you, Claire. Honestly I didn't know if you'd actually call, you seemed a bit spooked the other night." Frances laughed and Claire felt the tension ease from her shoulders, the previous nervousness she had been concerned with was melting away. Oh it felt good to talk to someone else for a change. A pleased smile settled on her face as she twirled in Wesker's sturdy leather office chair.

"Of course I was going to call. How could I not?"

"My charm is just that irresistible, I know. How are you doing? And better yet, how's that oh-so esteemed Dr. Wesker doing?" Claire could hear the same pretty voice that had answered the phone asking Frances who she was talking to. The older Birkin must have waved her away or something because soon the other line was quiet, save for Frances.

"I'm doing well, he's okay too I guess. We don't see much of eachother." Claire really hadn't meant for that to sound as sullen as it came out and unfortunately for her Frances picked up on it.

"It sounds like that bothers you, dear. Though he's always been such a solitary boy, especially when he first started at Umbrella." Her voice seemed almost wistful and Claire had to repress the snort at the word 'boy' being used in reference to Wesker, who was, undoubtedly, the manliest of men. Or so he believed.

"You knew him before he started working at Umbrella?" Claire couldn't help the surprise in her voice and Frances chuckled in response.

"I did indeed. However I doubt he would very much appreciate me talking about his childhood, or at least within his earshot. Say, why don't you join Sherry and I for lunch this afternoon? I know she'd love to see you and we can talk more." At that the other voice cried out loudly, demanding to know who exactly she was having lunch for to which Frances replied that it was a surprise. Honestly, Claire would have absolutely adored meeting the two for lunch, the sheer excitement of seeing Sherry again was enough without the added perks. However she highly doubted that Wesker would let her go and she sighed quietly. Since when did that man become her father?

Okay...ew.

"I wish I could but I don't think Wesker will let me go." Claire said forlornly and Frances chuckled.

"Sweetie, I'm sure he would but if it makes you feel better, I'll take care of it. See you in an hour, dear." Before Claire could protest, or even ask how she was going to get to go anywhere what with being in the middle of Jesus Nowhere the line went dead and she threw it a quizzical glance before putting it down on the cradle. She knew it was probably in her best interests to at least tell Wesker that the Birkin matriarch was up to something but she didn't want to bother him if he was working.

And he was always working.

With a sigh she propped her chin on her fist and settled her elbow on the desk. She should probably be leaving the office but something about being there made her feel good, it was a pretty nice room even if that wasn't saying much in this place. As stated earlier, this place was the pits. The sound of the heater clicking on and the residual hum thrummed through her ears and for some reason her eyes started to grow heavy. She tried to fight sleep, her head slipping down waking her up everytime. However the scent of him surrounding the chair, only exacerbated by the warmth seeping through the vent underneath her and the hum of the heater were lulling her down. Soon her head met wood softly and she smiled slightly before her eyes closed one final time.

...

"Scalpel."

His one word command was all he needed to get the sharp instrument in his hand and the three assisting him at his side were completely focused on their tasks. It was best that you were when working with Albert Wesker, after all if anything went wrong it could very well mean your life. All business his cool voice echoed throughout the autopsy room, echoing through the face mask on his hazmat suit. The others watched with rapt attention as he spoke into the voice recorder on the table, only one of them actually busy with pinning down the flesh on the cadaver.

"Subject shows signs of pre-mortem organ dissolution; kidneys and liver are completely deteriorated as is the heart. Stomach and both the small and large intestine still intact."

His eyes narrowed behind his tinted face plate and he spoke softly, taking the scalpel and making a long incision in the ropey muscle of the lower intestine, "Obscure object is lodged between the anal canal and the colon. Attempting removal for further study."

With no word necessary the person closest to him handed him a large pair of forceps and he took them and pulled out the obstruction, not paying attention to the horrified gasps of the team around him.

He was not a man of emotion, nor did he usually show it but something about what he was holding in his hand made him uneasy. Yes, it was terrible but he had seen things infinitely worse, more grotesque and far more wrong than this. For some reason his voice lowered to a slightly hoarse rasp as he placed the little limb on the tray on the table.

"Obstruction identified as a small arm. Possibly from a child." A very young child, barely out of toddlerhood if the size was anything to go by and this creature had swallowed it whole. His chest tugged slightly and he knew he had to wrap this up as soon as possible. He nodded to the woman across from him.

"Dr. Jenkins will oversee it from here. I have some business I need to take care of. Get stomach content samples and tissue from the alimentary canal." A chorus of 'Yes sir' was his response as he exited the autopsy room and into the vaccuum sealed space that was the first decontamination chamber. The hissing of the showers drowned out the thoughts he was having about what had just happened and he was grateful. When had he become so...

'Soft?'

No, not soft. He was never, nor would he ever be soft. It just made no sense as to why what he had just seen would have affected him like it did. But...

A child, no matter the reason, never deserved something like that and it was one of the only reasons why he had felt any guilt over his work. Just because he didn't particularly care for children didn't mean he wanted them to die, but sometimes they were a casualty and he dealt with it. So why was it bothering him now?

Honestly, he knew the reason but he'd never admit it. He exited the decontamination room and began to strip off his suit, hanging it in the vaccuum locker and walked into the second decon shower. The sting of the chemicals was almost pleasant, washing him free of the burden that seemed to be tilting on him. When the process was over he stepped into the elevator and immediately his cell phone began to ring. He flipped it open without actually looking at the number and his voice sounded with a sort of forced hardness as he answered.

"Yes?"

"I see you haven't improved your telephone etiquette, Al. Such a shame, you could have been a wonderful telemarketer." He couldn't help the slight smirk that lifted the corner of his mouth but he also couldn't help the slight annoyance edging into his nerves.

"Do I even want to know how you acquired my number, Frances?" He tried to make it sound like he was annoyed but he could not. Honestly the old woman's interruption was welcomed for the moment, as unusual as that seemed.

"Do you even have to ask? Just because I'm not in the game anymore doesn't mean I've lost all of my tricks. You kids these days..." If there was anything to said about Frances Birkin, it was that with age it seemed that her sharp wit had gotten impossibly sharper.

"So what do I owe this unannounced pleasure, madam?"

"I was calling to ask if I might steal Claire away from you for an afternoon. We're having a girl's lunch you see, no boys allowed." Unless he was mistaken he could definitely hear the sound of helicopter blades in the background and the sound of air whooshing by.

"Wouldn't that be up to her?" He smirked into the phone and in response she snorted.

"Aren't you taking care of her? I think she thought it wise to ask you beforehand, if it were up to me I'd have gotten her already."

"I don't see why that would be a problem. I take it you already know where to pick her up at." He responded as he made his way down the corridor to his own office where Claire had been last. Sneaky little woman she was.

"Would I be me if I didn't?"

...

She didn't know what she would be expecting as she waited atop the roof of the building for the helicopter buzzing close by. It wasn't Frances she was worried about, she had already spoken to the woman a few times and already it seemed as if they would be getting along quite well. No it was the thin blonde in the passenger side that she was concerned with. She hadn't expected a warm welcome from the girl she hadn't seen in a decade but as the older woman placed the chopper down on the roof and the two stepped out that was exactly what she got.

Completely forgoing Wesker and her grandmother, Sherry Birkin sped towards Claire and tackled her with open arms, nearly bringing them both down and illiciting a loud 'oomph' from the redhead.

"Oh my god, Claire! I had no idea we were coming to see you!" It all left her in such a rush that Claire could have sworn it was more a squeak than actual speaking. Wasting no time she quickly returned the embrace and sighed.

"I missed you too, Sherry," The girls pulled away and Claire finally got a good look at the girl- woman that she hadn't seen since she was nothing more than a frightened little girl looking for her parents in a damned city, "Look at you, you're all grown up!"

"You too! The last time I saw you, you were younger than I am now." Sherry squealed and Claire smiled, trying to blink away the moisture in her eyes.

"Females."

Both women turned to the male voice and Sherry rolled her eyes but still smiled warmly, "Hello to you too, Uncle Albert." Claire's eyebrow rose as Sherry moved over to Wesker and wrapped her arms around him tightly and he froze for a moment before patting her on the back awkwardly.

"My goodness he didn't drop her this time." Frances was next to Claire and she tilted a head in the older woman's direction, a confused look on her features. Frances just smiled in a way that clearly said, 'I'll tell you later'.

After all of the introductions were done and Wesker had gone back down into the building the women were on their way, flying back over Alaska and into Washington. Soon enough they were touching down onto a private helipad where there were a few cars surrounding the area. Sherry was the first to hop out, loudly proclaiming that she was driving and dragging Claire with her.

"Sherry the last time you drove me anywhere I almost had a heart attack," Frances said, joining Claire and Sherry as they made their way towards a deep crimson 2009 Mustang convertible. Frances looked at Claire and rolled her eyes before continuing, "That child is a complete speed demon, just like her father was."

"Daddy was not a speed demon! He drove like an old lady, eh- no offence, Grandma." Sherry must have realized that she wouldn't win the fight and she got into the backseat as Frances and Claire got into the front. Claire had figured that speaking about the deceased William Birkin would be some sort of difficult topic but these two spoke about it so casually, as if he wasn't actually dead.

"Maybe not when he had you in the car but when he was a kid he certainly did. One time he and Albert were racing and that boy crashed right into a ditch. Got the bottom of my car stuck on a huge drainage pipe." Frances rolled her eyes as she started the car but still kept her carefree smile.

"Whoa, Wesker used to race?" Claire couldn't help the laugh that had gotten stuck in her throat. Though it wasn't a totally unusual thing to picture him doing it seemed far too trivial for Wesker to have taken any pleasure in. The thought of Wesker behind the wheel of some supercharged vehicle speeding down the road was one that she had never thought possible, unless of course he was shooting out the tires of someone behind him.

"Oh yeah, both he and Will did when they were younger. Scared the crap out of me on several occasions, the both of them."

"I never would have figured..." Claire spoke more to herself than anyone else, "What did they race?"

"Oh, different sorts of things but Al used to ride his motorcycle a lot. He seemed to favor it more than your standard racing car."

Soon they were turning the corner onto a street that Claire hadn't caught the name of but she wasn't concerned. The sunlight was warm and bright, something that Frances had said was unusual in this city for this time of year and she listened intently on every word the older woman said. She was so engrossed in a story that Frances was telling her about when she first started working at Umbrella that she hadn't even noticed that they were pulling up to an outdoor bistro. It was similar to the kind she figured she might see in Paris, the kind that always seemed to line the streets in the city portrayed in movies. It also looked ridiculously expensive and Claire felt something settle into her stomach with a startling discomfort.

She didn't have any money.

"This place looks pricey..." She said, more to herself than her companions but both caught her slightly distressed sentiment. Sherry patted her on the shoulder and then went off to secure them a table.

"Yes dear but the meaning of 'let me take you to lunch' clearly conveyed that I'll be paying today," Frances smiled as they got out of the car, "I'll hear nothing of it." She added when Claire went to open her mouth.

"Fine but you're going to have to let me return the favor one day."

"Of course, dear."

...

It was quite possibly the best day she had had in a very long time. After they had placed their orders they waited for their food to arrive, talking happily. Frances and Sherry took turns exchanging stories and the three women were caught up in several laughing fits in between. Soon enough the waiter came with their food and not long after Claire took a bite of her sandwich did the subject turn to one that she had been half-heartedly avoiding the whole time.

"So, Claire...the infection, is it high?" Sherry's voice was small and quiet but imploring, curiosity making it seem much louder than it was. For a minute Claire was engrossed in her food and wondered what Sherry meant by that. Of course she had meant her own infection.

"Sherry..." Frances cut her off, her tone was clearly that of a grandmother instead of a friend.

"No...it's okay," Claire smiled reassuringly and Sherry looked intently at her, eyes softening as she watching the redhead, "It's contained but yes, it's pretty high level. Or so I've been told." She added that last part somewhat bitterly though for what reason she didn't know.

"You know, Claire, that night in Raccoon when I got infected and you and Leon gave me the anti-virus...it didn't completely eradicate it." Sherry placed a comforting hand on her arm and Claire's mouth opened slightly.

"That's kind of an oversight, Sherry," Frances interupted, swallowing a bite of salad, "She still holds a sort of latent marker of the virus, it caused an immunity but there's still a very tiny bit bonded with her cells."

"I had no idea..."

"I'm just saying, you're not really as alone as you might think you are. You know, with the whole infection thing." Sherry chimed in, sipping her iced tea.

"T-Veronica, that's a terribly volatile virus. Albert must be treating you like some medical marvel." Claire's gaze snapped to the older woman who had the faintest of smirks on her face, as if she wasn't really that interested in speaking about the virus as much as other things.

"Not really..." Claire's attention shifted to her recently untouched sandwich, overcome with the feeling that this conversation was taking a turn in a direction she really didn't want.

"So why are you staying with Uncle Albert, hmm? Are you two an item?" Sherry smiled broadly and nudged Claire with her elbow as Frances took another bite of her salad and rolled her eyes.

"God no! He's just...helping me out a bit is all."

After that the subject was dropped and Sherry and Claire chatted on about school and other various safe topics but the look that Frances kept shooting her didn't go unnoticed by far. There was something in those eyes that clearly displayed that she knew more than she was letting on and that Claire knew as well but no one would speak of it. Something that she prayed would never be brought up.

Soon after the food was all consumed and the bill was paid - Claire had tried desperately not to look at it but had failed - the three were on their way back to the heliport, much to Sherry's dismay who had exclaimed that Claire needed to come over to their house one day. Frances agreed and so did Claire and when they finally reached the facility in Alaska, Sherry made Claire promise her that she would with a tight hug.

Before she had time to act Claire was pulled into a tight embrace by Frances and melted into the motherly hug that she knew she had needed for many years. Before she pulled away she spoke quietly so that only Claire could hear.

"Things aren't always exactly as they appear on the outside, dear. Remember that."

As the biting cold nipped into Claire she watched the Birkin women drift off over the nearly all white horizon she thought about the words that were just spoken to her and their meaning.

Though she had a feeling that she already knew exactly what that meaning was.

...

"I'm so glad you could join me, Mr. Harper."

He crossed his legs and leaned forward, elbows perched on top of the desk, hands supporting his chin. Anyone looking in might have said that he gave a sense of elegance to the room; others might say it was intimidation he was lending. Unlike his last remaining sibling, he never hid his eyes, not that he needed to. The strange and bright discoloration of his eyes had been ever present since he was originally injected with the Mother Virus and though they were slightly off-putting they weren't so bright that they caused a stir. Albert's eyes had also been quite a bright shade of their original hue. He was a handsome man though unlike his brother, displayed less of that fine chiseled look and more of a boyish charm; women still flocked to him nonetheless.

Right now however, it wasn't elegance or charm that was holding the main office of VitaLife's Ontario headquarters. He shifted slightly, causing the portly man across from him to stiffen and grow even more uncomfortable. When he spoke his voice was that of a fine purr, reverberating around the fine wood walls and the plush red carpeting as if it was an all marble concert hall.

"And how is Angela doing?"

The thick waisted man shifted and began to sweat as he responded, willing his voice to remain calm, "She's doing well, th-the treatment is working well the doctors say."

"Good!" Alex clapped his hands together, "And the girls? Doing well in school?"

"They're good. E-Elaine is taking clarinet lessons."

Alex smiled widely, showing off his perfectly straight, almost too-white teeth. It was predatory and displayed more than just simple pleasantries.

"So the family is doing well, hmm?" The blond got to his feet, causing the balding man to shift nervously again, "I'm so glad to hear it. You know, George, may I call you George? Good. You know, the corporation has put in a lot of resources to ensure that your lovely wife recieve the best care possible. That your girls receive the best educations possible."

"Y-Yes sir-"

"And there have been some interesting stories floating around here, not that I believe mere hearsay of course," He continued, now circling the other man like a shark, not letting him speak for himself, "Which is why I have decided to come to you personally about it but you know, George, security cameras do not lie." He left that last bit to hang and immediately George looked even more uncomfortable. Alex hoped he didn't vomit in his office, he'd hate to have to kill a potentially valuable resource. Though attempting to steal one of his samples was warrant enough for that. George seemed to know he was caught and he began to spew forth some ridiculous excuse that Alex had no interest in hearing.

"Sir! You have to understand, it wasn't my fault I-"

"Oh, but I do understand. And I am willing to overlook this, a no-harm-no-foul agreement if you will, as I am a very generous man."

"Yes sir, of course!"

"But nothing is free, my good man. Especially not advanced healthcare and cancer treatment and wouldn't it just be a shame if the resources simply just...fell through? Do you understand me yet, George?"

"Sir, please..."

"Who were you going to sell that sample to, Mr. Harper?" He stopped abruptly, turning his body sharply as if it was a tightly coiled snake ready to lunge. His toxic green eyes seemed impossibly brighter, more lethal looking than the most potent poison.

"Mr. Chairman I swear to you, I had no idea who he was-"

"Well ignorance is apparently bliss, isn't it?" His soft words oozed from his mouth in a way that was more degrading than any amount of yelling. "Nevermind that, there is something I do need you to do though, if you value the health of your family I mean."

He paused a moment, a faux look of his own ignorance playing on his face as he turned to the ever, underhanded George Harper, with his thick, blubbery waist and his unnattractive comb-over, "You do...value the health of your family, don't you Mr. Harper?"

The balding, frightened looking man didn't answer with anything more than a terrified eye-bulge that made him look more like an abused bulldog than a person. Alex suppressed the urge to laugh, that look was just too damn funny.

"Oh, of course you do," He finished for him, bringing his hand down on the trembling man's shoulder, "But you know, you're going to have to show me, George."

"Yes sir, anything sir, just please don't hurt my family."

Alex wrinkled his nose up in disgust. Groveling, really? What a pathetic waste of oxygen this guy was and he had no room in his industry for grovelers. After this job was done he'd see to it that Mr. Harper's talents were put to use somewhere more his speed, like in the testing facility for example.

Shifting his green eyes over to the desk and back to Harper he then moved towards a file sitting on the edge and picked it up. He handed it to Harper, who took it with shaky hands and opened it, slowly reading it and then looking up with eyes wider and sheer disbelief on his face.

Alex's lips tilted in an amused smirk before he set down at the desk once more and pointed to the grandiose clock that hung overhead behind him.

"Tick-tock, Harper. Time is money."

...

A/N: I know, I know it's kind of short but umm I wanted to end it there and get started on the next chapter, which may be a bit odd but I'm looking forward to it. It'll be different to say the least. Not to mention I just got finished watching The Phantom of The Opera for like the third time this week - I friggin love Gerard Butler, hawt! - so my mind has been all mushy romantic...anyways. The next chapter is going to have sort of an ode to it, so be ready for that, kind of a little brain sabotage for poor Claire. Reviews are always a nice Christmas gift right? Oh come on...put all of your reviews under my internet tree and umm...me love you long time?