So...long O_O And this is the shortened version!
IMPORTANT NOTE: All the characters will seem OOC in at least one instance during this chapter. This is because of the situations they have been placed in (heh, heh) and because alcohol is involved. I apologize for Jill's unrecognizable behavior later in the chapter. DO NOT FRET! The next chapter: all the characters are back in their natural environments...well, mostly.
Oh, and excuse the length. I considered splitting it but couldn't find the appropriate place to do so. Just think of it as a jumbo chapter :D
Disclaimer: The Backstreet Boys are not mine, but everything else is -brick'd-
"Hey, it's the boss-man!" Chris hollered from across the lobby of the R.P.D. Wesker groaned and tried to walk away but Chris was at his side in a flash. "Just the man I want to see."
"Good morning to you, too, Chris," Wesker hissed, failing to subdue his usual morning crankiness.
Wesker had been up all night trying to figure out the weapons order for S.T.A.R.S. but the figures would never add up right. Include numerous calls to customer service and you have Wesker's trip to hell and back. He ended up falling asleep and almost slept in. He was sure that things were going to get worse.
"Actually, I need to tell you something important."
Yep, definitely worse.
"I'm worried about Joseph. He's been starting to act funny."
Wesker cocked an eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee. "How?"
"Do you remember how you hit him across the head with that stapler, the day before last?"
Wesker pondered it for a moment. "...Yes, vaguely..."
"Well, he called me in the middle of the night, saying he was hearing voices and they wouldn't go away. He asked me if I could pick him up. So, of course, I tell him I will but when I get to his apartment: not there." Chris ended there, leaving Wesker staring at him, waiting.
"What, so he's disappeared?" Wesker questioned. Chris shook his head.
"No, I found him. He was in Wal-Mart."
"...Wal-Mart?" Wesker repeated. He was incredulous.
"Wal-Mart," confirmed Chris, nodding his head. "I tried asking him why the hell he was standing in Wal-Mart in nothing but his boxers on when an announcement came on. He started screaming and ran up and down the aisles."
Wesker held up his hand. "Let me try to understand what you are saying. The voices in Joseph's head...was...
"...the Wal-Mart announcements..." Chris finished for him. "I think he might be suffering from a concussion or something. That, or it knocked something loose."
Wesker sighed. "This is just what I need right now," he said bitterly. Chris wrapped his arm around his shoulders, only for Wesker to look at him and quickly slide out. Not taking the hint, Chris continued to tag along with Wesker all the way to the S.T.A.R.S. office.
"Just so you know, Captain, you are invited to come along with the rest of Alpha and Bravo for a night on the town."
"You mean, for real?" Wesker squealed in a overly-happy pitch. He placed his coffee mug down on his desk so both his hands were free. "Yay!"
The sudden cheer caught the attention of the S.T.A.R.S. members in the room. Wesker ignored them and sat down.
"You coming or what?" Chris asked.
"No."
Rebecca inserted her two cents worth. "Oh, come on, it will be fun!"
"I would rather spend my day in an asylum, thank you."
Jill walked into the office, carrying various files. "Here you go, sir. All translated and ready to be filed."
"Good work, Valentine." He watched as Jill placed the files into the appropriate cabinet. "Did you remember to make copies for the police downstairs?"
"I ran into Kevin while I was down there. He said he would give them it for me since he had to go there anyway. He's giving the rookies a few lessons today."
Chris groaned. "Man, I hated that. I mean, I like Kevin and all, but I know he dreads going through the safety precautions and regulations as much as the people hearing it do."
Jill sat on Brad's desk and, after saying hi, turned to Wesker. "Guess we'll see you tonight, eh?"
Wesker finished off his cup of coffee and reclined in his chair. "I told you yesterday I had no intentions of going."
"You would enjoy it as much as we would...as along as they don't keep playing rap over and over." Jill scrunched her nose up. "The same way we were over Abba, kids today get teary-eyed over 'Smack My Bitch Up.'"
The door slammed open and in jumped Joseph Frost. "DID SOMEONE SAY 'SMACK MY BITCH UP?" The office stayed dead silent. "I love that song!"
"Dear god," Wesker muttered under his breath, smoothing back his hair. "The maniac lives."
As soon as Joseph spotted Richard, he ran over to him and shook him. "RICHARD! THE MUTANT MONKEYS ARE ATTACKING THE CITY ZPLORGAL! WE MUST SAVE THE GIANT CHICKENS FROM THEIR DEATH AND STOP WORLD WAR THREE BEFORE CHINA TAKES THE GIANT CHICKENS AND PAINT THEM PURPLE!"
"J-Joseph!" Richard shouted. "Please s-s-stop s-shaking me!"
"You're one of THEM, aren't you? TELL ME YOUR SECRETS!" Joseph demanded, his nails digging into Richard's shoulders. "WHY WOULD THEY CHOOSE THE COLOR PURPLE?"
Chris finally separated Richard and Joseph. Joseph gawked at him before throwing his hands up in the air and screaming: "I NEED TO SMACK MY BITCH UP!"
"Uh, what?"
"IT'S A MESSAGE FROM THE VOICES. THEY NEVER STOP CHRIS!" He poked Chris' chest with every word. "THEY." Poke. "NEVER." Poke. "STOP!" Poke. Poke. Poke.
"Joseph, stop," said the assertive voice that belonged to no other than Wesker. "This is madness."
Joseph shoved Chris to the side (and into a desk) and stepped closer to Wesker. "Madness?" Joseph repeated. His eyes flickered. "This. Is. JOSEPH!"
With that, Joseph tried to round-house kick Wesker face. Wesker easily maneuvered around it by ducking and moving a few steps to the side. Joseph's foot failed to stop as it swung down and then forward, knocking Wesker's desk completely over. The sounds of paper falling, objects clattering and a coffee mug shattering followed . Wesker stood there in shock as he gazed down at his desk in ruins.
"...Joseph...Frost..."
"Ssh, don't worry," Joseph told Wesker, placing a hand on his quivering shoulder, "the demons are gone now."
Wesker's hands clenched into fists, his shoulders still quivering with rage. The tyrant in Wesker was about to be unleashed until Jill stopped him. "Don't bother, Wesker. It's not going to make a difference."
Wesker paused for a moment, blinked, and then tried to pull out his handgun from his holster. It took the combined efforts of Jill, Chris and Brad to stop their captain from killing their comrade. Even as Wesker continued to shout profanities and death threats, Joseph blankly stared ahead. Rebecca and Richard took the time to pounce Joseph and tie him to a chair.
"Sir, please, calm down!"
"He, will burn,in hell!"
"Wesker, keep your temper in check! You're not suppose to have emotions!"
"I want to taste his blood!"
"Speaking of blood, shouldn't you be watching your blood pressure -ow! Okay, okay, I take it back!"
Jill came up with a idea. A threat would work...maybe. "If you don't calm down, Chris will start stripping!"
"Hell yeah I wil-" Chris froze. "Wait, what?"
Immediately, Wesker jumped out of their arms and stood up straight, trying to slow down his breathing and keep his temper in check. He knew Jill wouldn't actually force it upon him, but the thought alone made him sick to his stomach.
"Okay, how about we-" Chris looked around the office. "Oh shit, he's gone."
"Didn't we tie him to a chair?" Richard shouted, exasperated. The said chair and rope disappeared along with Joseph. Everyone exchanged looks and darted out into the hallway and to the nearest window. All they could see is Joseph in his red bandanna and boxers, running freely up the street.
Brad was the first to speak. "Well, at least he got free of the chair."
"What if he gets in trouble or something?" Rebecca said, panicked. She nervously chewed on a nail. "Shouldn't we go after him?"
Chris simply shook his head. "No, let him run. Look at him go...kind of reminds me of Bambi running through a field."
"Chris."
"Yeah, Captain?"
"I killed Bambi's mom."
Chris gasped in horror. Everyone else moved back into the office, including Wesker, leaving Chris alone to revel in disgust.
"You monster! I had to go to therapy because of you! COME BACK HERE AND FACE ME!"
...
Jill could hardly remember the last time she went out into the nightlife. She had gotten so depressed and swamped with everything that she never felt like going out and having a good time with her friends. Now, she only had limited time to do just that. Well, to a degree, anyway.
Jill was getting ready at Rebecca's house. Rebecca had a small but cozy apartment that wasn't far from where Jill lived. The walls were covered with photos, framed paintings, and postcards, making Jill wonder if her landlord approved of her having so much stuff on the walls. Either way, it was clear that Rebecca didn't think much of it.
"How do I look?"
Jill turned to see Rebecca standing in the doorway. The petite girl wore a green, layered top with spaghetti straps; the layers fluttered out from her body and bounced with every move she made. She also had on dark-washed capris, the bottoms rolled up an inch or two, and a pair of matching green high heels.
Jill was almost wordless. "Wow, you look...amazing."
The shyer of the two blushed. "Really? You don't think it's too overdressed or anything?"
"No, you look fine!"
"Thank you," Rebecca said, staring at her toes. Her eyes caught Jill's feet and slowly made their way up. "Whoa, you look awesome!"
Jill decided to go down the daring route for once. She was always being complemented on her legs, so, she thought: why not show them off? Her outfit consisted of a blue tube top; black mini-skirt and brown leather boots. Just in case the late night air turned cold, she tied a white sweater around her waist. She liked to be prepared.
"I tried, anyway," Jill said with a chuckle.
"You're lucky. You always look so nice." Rebecca reached down and grabbed her purse. "I wish I looked more like you."
Jill was about to ask what she meant when Rebecca turned and smiled at her.
"Come on, let's go."
Jill nodded her head, still thinking about Rebecca's words. She would have to talk to her sometime. There was just something about that sentence that didn't sit right with Jill. Maybe there was more on Rebecca's mind than impressing her teammates at work.
...
The walk to the club was a long one, particularly on Rebecca, who ended up walking barefooted most of the way there. They could see the Frequency Nightclub's blue neon sign from afar. The building was fairly big and swanky with the music blaring and crowds forming outside. It wasn't the club that caught their attention though, it was the downtown section itself. People moving all around them; headlights speeding by; lit-up signs flickering on and off; every detail helped create the hustle-and-bustle atmosphere the girls had grown into.
Standing outside the Frequency was Brad and Richard. As soon as they caught sight of the girls, they waved.
"Hey!" shouted Rebecca, dragging Jill behind her as she sprinted towards the two. "What's up?"
The more soft-spoken Brad answered. "Nothing yet, just waiting for the others to show up."
Richard broke into a grin. "Are you guys ready to have some fun tonight?"
Jill, Rebecca, and even Brad grinned back. "Damn straight we are!" Jill exclaimed, thrusting her fist into the air.
"Me, too," Rebecca said, before shyly adding, "as long as I have someone to dance with."
Jill shrewdly elbowed Richard in the shoulder. "I'm sure she won't have a problem with that, eh, Richard?" Her response was a raise of the eyebrow. She shrugged in return. "It would be the gentlemanly thing to do."
"Well," Richard played along, "when you put it that way, I guess I won't be able to leave your side tonight, Becks."
Rebecca's eyes flashed open and she stared down at her shoes, hoping the darkness would hide the blush growing on her cheeks. Richard nor Brad took any significant notice of it, but our Jilly sure did.
"Well, I'll be damned..." Taking one look at Richard's astonished face and then turning around, Jill, herself, was left in shock.
Albert Wesker was walking towards them. Slicked-back hair; classic black sunglasses; black turtleneck with sleeves rolled up past the elbows; and, of course, black pants.
Jill couldn't help but tease him. She loudly let out a whistle, successfully catching Wesker's steady glare with a cat call. The others beside her snickered.
"Feeling frisky, Jill?" Wesker asked, sourly.
Jill tsked and waved him off. "Sorry, I forgot you were born without a sense of humor."
"I don't know how I will recover from that one, Jill." Wesker began walking towards the entrance of the club, the others obediently following behind him. "Born without a sense of humor? I need to write that one down."
"While you search for your notebook, the rest of us will wait for the others here. We don't want to miss them."
"Understood."
Jill wondered why Wesker showed up after all. He didn't dance, he didn't like clubs, he wasn't a heavy drinker...what was there for him to look forward to? She deduced it to simply the need of getting out. Even a person like him needed to be around people now and then.
"So," Wesker spoke again, immediately catching Jill's attention, "who, exactly, are we waiting for?"
"Chris, Forest and Edward," Rebecca listed off, staring up at the sky as if it helped her concentration.
"Did someone say our names?"
Sure enough, the three came up to them just as Rebecca stopped speaking.
Good timing, Jill thought, as she watched them approach.
"Well, you showed up." Wesker took a quick glance at his watch. "Let's get this over with."
With those encouraging words said, the S.T.A.R.S. members infiltrated the club.
Later...
Jill had originally jumped into the whole "clubbing" thing with great enthusiasm. Soon, she would be artificially inseminated and, hopefully, pregnant. It was basically her last night to throw off her uniform, slip into a skirt and dance until the sun rose...her last night to go out with her friends and just let loose and not have a care in the world. Becoming a mother would mean having every care in the world and all your time devoted to your little one. So, Jill decided, I'm going to make up for the all the night-outs I let slip by.
...Jill might have gone a bit overboard.
The night was fairing well. Neon-colored lights flashed over the crowd on the dance-floor, coating them in yellows and greens and blues. Nearly every stool at the bar was occupied. The clinking of glasses and laughter somehow found their way to rise above the music.
"Pink!"
Chris, Jill, Brad, Edward and Forest quickly downed a shot. The liquor continued to burn at her throat, but Jill ignored it. She already had too many to care any more.
While Richard and Rebecca were on the dance-floor, our infamous five started a drinking game earlier. Every time someone saw a woman in pink, everyone downed a shot.
Pink was a very popular color that night.
It got to the point where any color that resembled pink counted, including: pinkish oranges, pinkish reds, pinkish blues, greens, blacks...you get the picture. Edward seemed to be fairing the best. The man had a freakishly high alcohol tolerance and a girlfriend to meet up with. The others...
"Backstreet's back, ALRIGHT!"
...were singing Backstreet Boys.
"Pink!" Forest called. Jill followed his eyes and landed on someone in black attire sitting at the bar.
"That's not pink."
"Who gives two fucks?" came Forest's reply, somehow managing to say the words with all the wit and elegance of a university professor.
Brad looked over as well. "Hey, that's the captain!" he said, or tried to say. It was hard to make out his words when they slurred together.
Jill's gaze lingered on her captain's back longer than needed. In her drunken stupor, everything she had grown to admire about him magnified intensely. She considered asking him to dance with her. Ever since she joined the drinking game, she never left the table. The dance-floor was beckoning her, but she didn't want to go alone. She could always try finding Richard and Rebecca, but just trying to spot them in the crowd was an unsuccessful task.
As Jill continued to ogle Wesker, she realized how broad his shoulders were...and how his gelled hair glistened when the light hit it just right...and how taut his muscles were underneath his form-fitting turtleneck...and...how...he...
"Did anyone notice just how sexy Captain Wesker looks tonight?" she blurted, her heart suddenly pounding a mile a minute.
Everyone at the table raised their hand except for Edward. He was the only one left in a right state of mind.
"Oh, okay, I thought it was just me," Jill said, relieved.
Chris rested his chin in his hands. "He reminds me of one of the Backstreet Boys."
There was a murmur of agreement among them, and Edward decided that it was perfect time to leave before things got any weirder.
"I better go meet up with Lisa," Edward told them. "See ya."
As they waved him off, Rebecca and Richard came over. The two were panting and covered in sweat from their non-stop dancing.
"How's it going?" Rebecca asked the four breathlessly, taking Edward's seat. It was evident that her feet were in pain when she kicked her bare heels up on the table.
"Pink!" Brad hollered. Four shots went down.
"I think that answers my question."
"I need to dance!" Jill suddenly exclaimed. She got up from the table and threw her arms open. "Anyone want to dance with me?"
"I would," Richard started, "but I gotta sit down. My legs are killing me!"
Apparently, Rebecca needed rest, too. Chris couldn't because he wanted to continue the drinking game. Brad said he couldn't feel the lower half of his body, and Forest forgot he even had legs. Obviously, there was only one person to go to.
Jill picked up another shot and held the glass firmly to try and tame her shaking hands; when that failed, she swallowed the alcohol and began to weave her way through the crowd.
Wesker sat by himself at the bar, watching the water in the glass swirl around its perimeters. He survived sitting with the others until the third round came along. By that time, he barely managed to escape with his sanity.
"Havin' fun?"
Jill was standing beside him. Judging by the pinkness in her cheeks and the large smile on her face, Wesker knew she was smashed.
"How much have you had to drink?" asked Wesker, grabbing her chin and examining her face for anything else. She didn't seem to appreciate this and stepped away from his touch.
"Like you care," Jill uttered, too low for him to hear.
Wesker stared at her from behind his sunglasses. She didn't look so good. In fact, she didn't look good at all. He was about to question her about it when she met his gaze. Her smile returned.
"Dance with me?" Jill asked, although it sounded more like a command than a question.
Wesker let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Ha. No."
Jill wasn't going to take no for an answer. She wrapped her arms around his bicep and gave a hard yank. "Just this song and I'll disappear from sight."
"Jill, even if I were to dance, it would not be to a song where a man rants on about screwing women with big rears."
Another sharp tug. "We can always wait for the next song."
"Stop making a fool of yourself and let go." His words came out harshly, and he could have swore he saw Jill's drunken demeanor break into hurt. It disappeared as fast as it came.
Jill was about to say something when she tugged on his arm too hard. Wesker fell off his stool, unintentionally bringing Jill with him, and the two of them tumbled onto the tiled floor. All Wesker could hear from under him was a sudden burst of laughter.
"What's so funny?"
Jill tried to speak but couldn't control her laughing. "I...I don't know!"
Wesker met her baby blues for a brief second before picking himself off of her and to his feet. He offered his hand. She accepted. "You're drunk, Valentine."
Jill scoffed at the mere suggestion. "Drunk? I didn't have that much to drink! I'm perfectly-" Jill once again made contact with the ground, having tripped over her own feet. She let out a loud snort before beginning to laugh once more.
Resisting the urge to leave her there on the floor, Wesker bent down and pulled Jill to her feet.
"Listen to me, you should go home; you've had too much to drink. I'm about to leave so if you need a drive, here's your chance."
"I don't want to go yet," Jill whined, and it was becoming increasingly obvious to Wesker that Jill completely changed when there was liquor in her, "I want to dance!"
"If you need someone to dance with, I'd be happy to oblige."
They both turned to see a man sitting beside them on a stool. The stranger downed his tequila and walked over to Jill, pushing Wesker to the side in the process. "Sorry for eavesdropping...but I..."
Jill beamed. "Jill, nice to meet you."
"Oh. Uh, Ernie." He shook Jill's hand, ignoring Wesker's existence. Wesker didn't care if the guy ignored him or not, he knew exactly what kind of guy he was, the kind that no woman should be around (not to mention the fact the guy was wasted). If Jill hadn't been drunk, she would have noticed it right off the bat.
Ernie was about to escort Jill to the dance-floor when Wesker stopped them. "Jill, I'm warning you now. Stay away from this guy. Go home."
Jill gave him a malicious look. "Just because you want to ruin everyone's evening doesn't mean I'll let you ruin mine. How the hell do you know what kind of guy he is anyway?"
"I'm the captain of S.T.A.R.S., and the way you are acting right now is shameful to not just the team, but the whole R.P.D."
Jill's anger flared. "See what I mean?" she shouted. "You think you know everything but you don't! You never worry about people. You just care about yourself and your stupid reputation!"
"Jill, I have never cared about my reputation. You of all people should-"
Jill didn't even bother to finish listening. She let Ernie lead to the dance-floor. Wesker, fuming, was ready to leave but couldn't bring himself to stop watching them.
The rhythmic percussion in the background became nothing but an echo in his ears. Wesker, however, kept his feet glued to where they were.
He didn't move when he saw Ernie fall up against him; nor when Jill tried to shove him off; nor when he saw the look of distress in her eyes; nor when he saw Ernie's hand wander to her hip...
...but then.
Jill was released.
She slumped to her knees, unable to stand on her shaking legs. All that was audible was her heartbeat booming in her ears, the music blaring, and the gasps of the crowd surrounding her who had only just noticed the situation. She gasped as well when she looked ahead only to see Wesker with his foot on Ernie's chest, pinning him to the ground.
"C-Captain?" The name fell upon deaf ears.
Ernie struggled underneath Wesker's foot as Wesker increased the weight he was placing on his chest. "W-what are you doin'?"
"What position are you in to question me?"
The silent crowd exchanged worried expressions. Jill sat there, finding it hard to comprehend the utter coldness in Wesker's voice. Even Ernie, who was trying to act tough, let his facade slip when he saw past the blond man's sunglasses and into his eyes. He began to shake, and not from the pain.
He was terrified.
"I should arrest you, but, unfortunately, I have more important things to attend to." Wesker's icy blue eyes glowed with fury. "Unless you want your lungs to collapse, I would suggest getting out of my sight."
The boot was lifted. Ernie's frightened eyes darted between Wesker and Jill. A slight movement in Wesker's footing sent Ernie sprinting through the crowd, flying by the security and out the door. When security came over, Wesker summarized what happened and cleared everything up.
"Alright, show's over folks," one of the men yelled. As if to discourage any suspicious chatter, the music was turned up even louder.
Jill hadn't moved from the spot. Wesker bent down beside her, wrapped an arm around his neck and heaved her upwards, forcing her to her feet. Wesker took note of her pale complexion and the tired rings forming under her eyes.
"I'm going home."
"You are in no state to be walking home alone in the dark."
"I'll find...a..." Jill looked to the sky for the right word.
"Taxi?"
"Yeah, exactly."
"I will drive you home," Wesker said. Jill took off out of the door without another word, so he followed. Even as they entered the car and put the club behind them, Wesker couldn't shake the feeling that his co-worker might fear him more than her attacker.
That didn't make any sense.
Right?
Maybe there was more to this situation than Wesker saw? Hm...
Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Oh, er, one more question. What the hell happened to Joseph?
-Kendell
P.S. You'll know in the next chapter
P.P.S. This chapter also proves why you don't let S.T.A.R.S. members drink.
