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Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Sergei!...Okay, fine, I don't own him. You people always have to crush my dreams, don't you?!

Summary: "It means...'I like you,' comrade. And I do; very much." Sergei/Wesker


Chapter 7: Careful Observations


Perched at his desk, Wesker observed the Redfield man like a hawk, Sergei's words of accusation ever present in his mind.

"He's interested in you, comrade. VERY interested."

Was there really some form of infatuation running through that man's brunette-haired sku-

'Shit.' Wesker groused inwardly as he ducked his head down, pretending to be interested in some forms he needed to fill out. Chris had looked up and caught him staring, no doubt. 'God, if he is "interested" in me, he probably thinks the feeling is mutual.'

"Um, Captain Wesker?"

Hesitantly, Wesker shifted his gaze upwards to his so-called admirer standing before his desk. "Yes, Redfield?" He mentally berated himself for sounding unguarded.

"Did you want something, sir? I couldn't help but noticing you were staring at me...a lot."

"I'm sorry, Redfield, I just...erm..." 'Shit, what do I say?' "Say, is that a new cologne you're wearing?" 'Brilliant, Albert, brilliant. Put yourself even further in the hole.'

Chris perked up. "Actually, yeah, I am."

"It smells nice." 'Stop being a moron and just shut up now. Send him off somewhere and shut up. You're making a fool of yourself and it's not even ten AM yet.'

"Thank you, sir."

"Um, Redfield, would you mind getting something for me?"

"Sure thing, sir. What is it?"

"I need a file. It..." He thought for a moment. "It isn't labeled, but inside are pictures from a crime scene."

"Sir, there are a lot of those. Where was the crime scene at?"

"That I do not know. I think a brick house. I just really need the file ASAP."

"Um...alright, sir." Puzzled, Chris headed off to the archives while Wesker sat back in his chair, sighing graciously.

'He'll be there for a while.' That he would. Only God knew exactly how many unlabeled crime scene files were sorted in the archives.


Over the course of a week, Wesker had remained at the S.T.A.R.S. office, off and on observing Chris from afar. Sometimes he would even strike up conversation with the man. He was a rather pleasing conversationalist, and it was a blessing for Wesker because Chris seemed to do a lot of the talking. Wesker himself wasn't really one to carry on a conversation well if it really had no importance to him. But, in a way, it was important to him. It directly involved him. He needed to know exactly what it was Chris felt for him, if anything at all because if Chris didn't hold feelings of romance for him, then he could just focus on trying to get everything with Sergei settled. Adding Chris into the equation would only put more stress on him and make him want to shove his head into an overflowing sink.

Wesker soon found himself no longer sending his subordinate on bullshit trips to the archives and the break room and anywhere else he could possibly send him. He instead allowed the man to hang around when he had nothing better to do and they just talked.

'Maybe Sergei was wrong.'

The double agent thought whilst Chris was in the middle of a story about himself and his sister. He gave a short, but hearty laugh after the brunette mentioned something rather hilarious. 'He doesn't seem "interested" in me, nor trying to suck up for a promotion. He doesn't seem the type. Surely he's just trying to be friendly.'

"So, um, Captain Wesker..." Chris began after a calming breath, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Just Wesker is fine."

Chris looked a tad surprised, as if his captain just leapt on top of the table and shouted it to everyone, though there was no one else present. It was pretty late in the evening and just about everyone except for the custodial staff had left to go home.

"What?"

The Redfield shook his head. "Nothing." He gave a smirk that radiated a different kind of playfulness than Sergei. "But if that's the way you wanna play it, fine. Call me Chris."

"Very well then, Chris. Now, as you were saying?"

"Oh, right." Chris chuckled sheepishly. "Me and a couple of the boys were gonna go to the bar Saturday night. I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna come along?"

"I'm not much of a drinker."

"You don't have to drink."

"Well..."

"Please? It'll be really fun." Chris gave him a bright smile, using the tactic as a wordless way to encourage him to join in.

Wesker let out a sigh of defeat. "Alright. It's not like I have any plans that night, anyway."

"Great!" Cheerfully, Chris grabbed his leather jacket off the table. "Can't wait. I'll see you tomorrow, Wesker."

With a curt wave, Wesker watched the other man leave, biting back the urge to chuckle. That man really did remind him of an innocent little puppy. His things were gathered in silent contemplation as he got ready to leave the RPD. He took a moment to neaten his desk the best he could before he left. He inhaled the night air deeply as he stepped out of the silent maw of the police station.

"You were in there a while, comrade."

The voice somewhat took him by surprise, but Wesker relaxed immediately and turned to its source. "Well, good evening, Sergei. What brings you here?"

"I was going to walk you home. You'd been in there so long, I almost thought you weren't inside and I was just about to leave."

"Yes, I was talking to Redfield."

They began walking, the crisp, clear night air swirling about them and the luminescent moon breaking overhead through the confines of clouds that were laced about it.

"That man who left shortly before you did?"

"That's him."

"I see." Sergei's face contorted in a very minute, closed-mouth snarl. He had already decided he hated that Chris Redfield. He knew exactly what his intentions were with Wesker as if it were all tattooed on every inch of the man and it left a bitter taste in Sergei's mouth. Chris wanted what Sergei believed was rightfully his and he would make sure that man stayed as far away as possible from what was his whenever he could.

Chris, he could tell, shared the same sentiments of hate. When he had left the RPD and took notice of Sergei standing there, he gave him a glare. Sergei had almost laughed when that happened because, to him, it was one of the weakest glares he'd ever seen, though that was comparing all to his own. He had a pretty nasty glare, and he gave the nastiest that he could to the Redfield man. He'd pretended he wasn't fazed, but his gait had quickened just enough for Sergei to pick up.

"He asked me to come with him to the bar Saturday." Wesker stated nonchalantly.

"And what did you say?" 'Comrade, humor me and tell me you declined.'

"He all but begged me to go, and I don't believe I'm cruel enough to say no to something like that."

"Well, that's nice." 'дерьмо! прокляните это! трахнитесь!' The Russian's inner voice continued to go on a complete tangent of choice words. No way in hell was he going to leave that man alone with Wesker, though a crowded bar doesn't technically count as 'alone.'

"Some other co-workers are coming as well. I've no clue who yet."

"What do you think of that man? I mean, do you still believe he's not interested in you?"

"Well, I sort of thought maybe he was at first, but after a while, I realized he was just trying to be friendly.

'A little too friendly...'

The continuation of their walk was silent, sans a recap of things that happened at the Umbrella facility while Wesker was gone and likewise some things worth mentioning at S.T.A.R.S. that Wesker felt needed to be shared. They laughed quietly over stories such as Joseph Frost coming into work late with a hangover and Forest Speyer was waiting maliciously with an airhorn and an incredibly embarrassing incident William Birkin had when one of the pre-injection specimen got loose and it happened to be in heat and, unfortunately, William's leg was the nearest piece of flesh and blood in sight.

"Poor William." Wesker snickered. "Tell him I send my condolences."

"I will."

Wesker climbed the porch steps and gave one last glance at Sergei. "Good night, Sergei."

"Good night. Try not to have too much fun on Saturday." He smiled slyly.

"Very funny." Wesker slipped inside his home, leaving Sergei to glower at the thought of that damn Redfield hanging around him with an abundance of alcohol present.


OMG, what's gonna happen between Chris and Wesker at the bar?! Find out in the next chapter! :3