"Is he…alright?" Chris asked, sliding into the chair Leon had just vacated at the kitchen table. Jill had her head bowed, working on a crossword in a week-old newspaper. She looked up, followed his eyes to the bedroom door just visible down the hall and then dropped her attention back to the newsprint in front of her.

"Leon's a good guy," she said, penciling in a couple more letters. "So leave him alone."

Chris narrowed his eyes, "what do you think I'm going to do?"

It had been like this between them ever since he'd come back. He had known it would take time, but he hadn't expected this level of cool indifference, nearly bordering on hostility, from her. Barry and Rebecca had been easy to win over, but Jill, next to Wesker, had always been the hard-ass in Alpha team.

"I don't know Chris," she erased the letters in one of the columns with hard, furious strokes, finally tearing the paper. She threw her pencil down on the ruined paper, looking across the table at him. "It's hard for me to say what you're going to do these days."

"If you want me to apologize-"

She held up a hand to stall his words, "I told you that you don't have to justify yourself to me. It was your call - you're the only one you have to answer to for it."

"If I would have known what was going to happen in Raccoon…"

"What, you would have stayed? I don't need you to protect me Chris – obviously." She stood up, insulted.

"Barry told me that you were infected," Chris stood up too, facing off with her across the table. He knew it was a low blow to make, and incredibly arrogant to assume things would have been different if he were there, but he was tired of living in a parallel universe. He wanted a confrontation. If Jill could get mad, she could get even, and then things could get back to normal. Maybe.

"Somehow I made it out okay without you."

She and Chris had logged more hours together in those few weeks after the mansion incident than in their entire career together up until that point. She had become so used to his presence, his movements; she knew the way he breathed, spoke, and thought. She had foolishly allowed herself to become accustomed to his presence and had felt his departure like a wound. Chris took a step forward to come around the table.

"I thought you were dead, Jill," he said, taking their conversation out on a tangent.

"Don't come over here Chris."

"I thought you were dead and there were all these things I regretted not doing."

He stepped in front of her, and although she could have easily turned around and walked away she stayed, her hand white knuckled on the back of the chair.

"We can't do them now. You know that."

"I know that."

He took another step towards her and she could feel the familiar, inviting warmth that radiated off of him.

"This isn't the time Chris."

"There might not ever be a time," he said, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. She was standing right next to him, looking straight up at him.

"We can't do this," she repeated, but again made no move to step away.

"Do you not want to?" he lowered his head a bit. Jill unconsciously licked her lower lip, averting her eyes. It was all the invitation he needed to move just a little closer and press his lips over hers.

He had known finally kissing Jill would be amazing, but he had never guessed that it would be like pressing his lips up against a firecracker. She crushed her face against his, the softness of her cheek raking along the coarse stubble of his jaw. One of her hands fisted itself in the collar of his shirt while the other raked nails across his back. He pulled her tightly against the hard frame of his body, pushing her back against the table. His hands were everywhere, firm and calloused. She twisted her fingers in his cropped hair, pulling his head back to nip at the angled line of his throat.

In the background they both heard the rattle of someone placing their hand on a doorknob. Chris pushed himself away, taking a step back as Jill sat up, straightening her shirt.

Leon stepped into the hallway, taking in their flushed faces and swollen lips. Jill shot Chris a look out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't let me interrupt," Leon said, shouldering his way by. From where she was standing Jill could see an angry red mark across his cheek. Chris, operating on fraternal instinct, moved to occupy the space the younger man had just been in.

Jill sat down in her chair again with a sigh. She glanced down at the newspaper, her eyes catching on the cheesy horoscopes that occupied the back page with the crossword.

Someone you have to deal with will be erratic about what he or she expects or wants. An emotional problem will develop if you mix business with pleasure.

She rolled her eyes, folding up the paper and dumping it into the woodstove on her way out.