"My feet hurt."

"Shut-up Redfield."

Captain Wesker was not happy and listening to Chris moan and groan about his feet was not improving his mood in the slightest. Wesker hated working undercover even under the best of conditions, which this current assignment did not fall under. Irons knew he hated undercover work which was the exact reason Wesker currently found himself standing on a street corner in the middle of Raccoon's "Red Light" district. He suspected Irons was still pissed about getting hit in the face with that meat patty a few months back.

In all honesty it should have been some beat cop standing out here waiting for this damn asshole to show up, or at the very least Jill and/or Rebecca. Unfortunately Jill, Rebecca, and everyone else was at a seminar in LA. Everyone that is except himself, Chris, and Brad. Brad was in a run down looking van across the street. Even Wesker wasn't dumb enough to put him out here on the street, besides the fact the Irons had ordered him to taken an active participation in this stupid operation.

And just what where they standing out here waiting for? Some two-bit hustler who was hitting up the locals for protection money, and when they didn't pay up they got hurt. Well, to be more precise, he was hitting up the local streetwalkers for money…

"Captain…"

"Redfield…" Wesker growled, narrowing his eyes. "Please bear in mind we are undercover."

"Oh geez, I totally forgot." Chris shook his head, the sarcasm thick. "Alright then…Honey…how long are going to stand out here?"

Wesker groaned, pushing a stray strand of blonde hair out of his face. Did Chris actually think he enjoyed standing out here on a street corner dressed like this!? Because he didn't!

Chris sighed, shifting uncomfortably in the four inch spike heels. His leather mini skirt was riding up and his tube top kept slipping down, threatening to reveal his fake boobs. He also had no unearthly clue how women managed to wear strapless bras properly, let alone the damn pantyhose. Wesker wasn't fairing any better in a skin tight blood red mini dress, fishnet hose, and six inch black thigh boots. Both had on wigs. Wesker's was blonde, straight, and reached down to his waist. Chris' was a deep brown, curly, and reached his shoulders.

A couple of the female patrol officers, under a swearing of secrecy, had helped them both pad their bras. Despite the situation, Chris couldn't help but notice Wesker was rather…busty. Chris knew Wesker had to be sporting a D cup, he just had to be in order to look that big. Chris had only been given a B cup, due to the fact it was the only strapless bra they could find on such short notice.

The only good thing to come out of this entire fiasco so far, as far as Chris was concerned anyway, was that he had finally gotten to see Wesker's eyes sans sunglasses. He really wasn't surprised to see they were blue.

Wesker shifted his stance a bit, brushing at yet another strand of hair. Chris elbowed Wesker and nodded toward a dark blue sedan heading toward them. The sedan slowed and finally stopped in front of the sign post Chris was leaning against.

"Hey there ladies." The man was young, probably a collage student. "You girls looking for some fun."

Wesker groaned to himself. Three hours and this was the fourth proposition they'd had to deal with. The young man eyed them both rather hungrily and finally settled his gaze on Wesker, much to his horror.

"I don't think you'd like the price." Chris purred, in a high voice. Wesker damn near gagged.

"I don't want you." The man sneered, never taking his eyes off of Wesker. "I like the big girls."

Wesker seriously thought about pulling his gun and shooting the guy…he really did. Chris made an audible harrumph sound and turned his attention back to the street.

"Sorry buddy, I'm on break." Wesker did manage to sound somewhat feminine, although he didn't purr.

"You're lose, cause I'm a tiger." The man waved and pulled away.

"Honey, how much longer are we going to stand out here?"

"Shut-up Candy."

Seconds later another car pulled to a stop. This time the man behind the wheel was older, perhaps mid-thirties. He stepped out of the car and walked toward them. He was dressed in a sharp suit and his manner simply oozed money. They guy had bucks and he was out picking up streetwalkers, how quaint.

"Well, I haven't seen you fine women out here before." The man eyed them both, then draped and arm around Wesker's shoulders.

"We're new." Wesker snorted, still trying to sound feminine.

"I can see that, and quite a lovely pair as well. My name is Kain and I run this part of The Strip" He smirked, putting his other arm around Chris' waist.

At this point neither S.T.A.R.S. member was too thrilled with the situation. It should be mentioned that Brad, from his perfect view point in the van, thought the whole thing was hilarious.

"Now if you lovely ladies want to work this corner, you are more than welcome to." Kain moved slightly and patted Wesker on the butt. "But you're going to have to pay some property taxes."

Wesker turned three shades of red and was so close to pulling his gun it wasn't even funny. The man had patted him on the butt! Chris leaned forward looking at Wesker closely. Both of them knew they needed just a little more before they could arrest him.

"And if we don't wan to pay?" Chris purred again.

Kain smirked, running a finger up Wesker's back before resting a meaty paw on the back of his neck. Wesker somehow restrained his urge to stab him in the head with his boot.

"Well than, as they say, accidents happen." He smirked again, pulling Chris in closer. "You just ask Kiki what I'm talking about."

That was all they needed. Kiki, aka Linda Devin, had refused to pay the extortion and landed in the hospital with a broken arm and several broken ribs. Wesker nodded toward Chris.

"Alright Mr. Kent you are under arrest for extortion and assault."

Wesker pulled his badge from his bra, flashing it at Kent. Kent turned, pushing Chris into Wesker. Chris lost his footing and hit the sidewalk in a spread eagle position. Kent bypassed his car and took off like a rabbit on speed down the sidewalk. Wesker stumbled after him, trying to grab his gun from under his dress.

"Brad get your ass out here!!"

Wesker was doing quite well for a man who was running in six inch heels. Brad came bounding out of the van, bypassed Chris and ran down the sidewalk after Kent. Wesker finally gave up trying to get the gun and made a running dive for Kent. They hit the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Kent grabbed for Wesker's hair and pulled the wig clean off.

"Ahhh…YOU'RE A MAN!!"

"No shit."

Kent drove a knee into Wesker's stomach causing him to fall backwards gasping for air. Brad showed up seconds later, followed closely by a stumbling Chris. Brad trained his gun on Kent.

"Please don't make me shoot you."

Getting Kent in handcuffs was much easier than Wesker had anticipated, after the sprint the guy had just made. Brad lead him back to the van, while Chris and Wesker stumbled along the sidewalk.

"You lost your hair Captain." Chris handed Wesker his wig.

"Thanks." Wesker mumbled, shoving the wig back on his head. Though he didn't sound very happy about getting it back.

Several days later pictures of Wesker and Chris standing on the street corner showed up on the Police bulletin board. Both of the them were pissed, but never figured out who had done it.

Neither of them ever suspected Brad, who made a quick buck selling several prints to various officers of both the female and male persuasion.