A/N:

This story is so fluffy. I want to see Jill dating. I want to see her wooed.

Let them chase her and try to win her. Lord knows I can't think of anything more awkward than Redfield trying to charm her. HA. OY.

DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANYONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*

Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt

Chapter Ten: In Which We Find A Lot of Humping, A Little Dumping, and A Battle for a Beautiful Girl

They snoozed a little. They held on and petted. She knew he was sleeping. His breathing was deep and slow. Jill played at his nipples, in a completely not friendly manner, because he wasn't aware. Because...it wasn't cheating. It was just...friendly touching.

Why was WESKER'S face giving her the stink eye in her head right now!?

It was the memo on her desk that morning:

From the Desk of Albert Wesker:

Jill -

Various sources have confirmed your continued friendship with the rookie Leon S. Kennedy. This is detrimental to your continued reputation here within the department. You will be, unceremoniously, made into a laughingstock. You will be ridiculed and labeled a Jezebel. You will be discounted as unprofessional among your peers. Please refrain from continued association with subordinates. It is not, strictly, forbidden but the practice of inter-unit fraternization is frowned upon.

In highest regard,

Cpt. Albert Wesker

Jill had drafted a short response and knocked on his office door. She sat it down on his desk, wordlessly, and left the office.

Captain-

Please see the below mentioned diagram regarding your concerns on my personal affairs. Thank you for your consideration regarding my reputation at this time. But I regret to inform you that I will be continuing in my private life as I see fit.

The following diagram is a drawing pertaining to who's business it is to involve themselves in my personal matters.

It was a crudely drawn stick man circling his hand in front of him. Above the head? A bubble with one word: Nunya.

Please instruct your various sources (Redfield and Speyer) to mind their own damn business in the future as well sir and to kindly not involve my superiors in their juvenile complaints.

-Jill Valentine

And now here she was, while Chris was sleeping off his fun night without her, playing tweak the tit with the hottest rookie in seven fucking states. What was she doing here? Was it simply a matter of Vicki and Heather being right? Was she hot for it with Leon because Chris was just too much a pal to make her his and blow her mind?

Were they pushing a relationship when they should be pushing a friendship?

Maybe she was confusing this with a friendship too. Her nose slipped against his neck. His shaggy hair touched her forehead as he murmured in his sleep and snuggled her closer. The hand curled around her arm shifted and barely, barely, barely grazed the side of her breast.

Her whole groin tightened like he'd fucked her stupid and left her sopping wet.

Nope.

Not the same.

The Sex with Redfield? Great. The rest of it? Fine. It was good. It was no fucking different than it had ever been. And it should've been different. It should've been hot or fireworks or want. It was friends who fucked.

And it wasn't enough. He was just too damn lazy to do anything but roll along contentedly while she drifted around in her own world. They came together. They got it on. They went to work. They were still buddies. Baseball and bars and pool. And never any damn romance.

Nothing.

Did she think she'd find that here?

Yes. In a Jeep in the park. On a blanket by a brook. In a balloon. Never the same thing twice. She was a bitch. She was. She wanted the fireworks of it. And she couldn't just sit there like a lump waiting for Chris to figure that out.

Her stroking hand twisted a little in the baby fine hair above his nipples. She knew it woke him. She felt him shift in her arms. She wanted to slide one hand down and just...fist him.

Her hand skimmed along his thigh over his sweatpants. She felt him tighten. His breath caught.

Yeah. Friends, her ass.

As if he'd read her mind, Leon grunted and nuzzled her face up.

Bad. Good. Bad bad bad. Why she was so bad when she was with him?

Jill whispered, faces brushing, "...holy shit this is dangerous." Her hand was, maybe, a quarter inch from sliding north to find out if he was hard sitting there beside her. She was betting yes. Yes yes yes.

But that? THAT would be cheating right?

Sure? Yes? No? Was it? Her brain felt like fog and horny need.

He stopped. He breathed. She held so still. He was frozen there against her, gathering himself. He was being a good boy here.

Her?

Bad.

She rubbed their noses.

And he said, "That's not helping."

Jill laughed, hoarsely, and tugged away to settle her head back on his shoulder again. "Sorry. Friends, remember?"

"Hmm. Redfield know you're here?"

Jill said nothing.

Leon sighed, dramatically, "I don't like him, Jill. He's stupid and rude and arrogant. But I don't cuckhold a guy either. I want to be your friend. I won't be your stunt dick behind his back."

Jesus.

Jill clutched him like a doll, breathing, "He knows we're friends. He's not my fucking mother. I don't need his permission to be here."

Dully, Leon queried, "Don't you?"

Jill leaned back now, eyes flashing, "No. I don't. I don't need your judgment about it either. He's my boyfriend, not my keeper."

Leon nodded, face calm, eyes? SPARKING. "And what am I?"

Jill studied him, her eyes caught sight of his bedroom door. Ajar. She was PRETTY SURE there was movement in there.

She let go of him. She rose. "Tell me she's not here."

He eyed her, easily, "She's not here."

"So who's in your bedroom?"

Leon lifted a brow, he looked so fucking amused, "No one."

"Oh, yeah?"

Jill marched over and opened the door. Empty. Save for the smoke gray cat sleeping on his bed.

Leon shrugged, "Busted. That's Diesel. He needed a home at the pound yesterday where your boyfriend had me working. I needed a room mate. Win/win."

Jill stared at the cat. She blinked. She felt the first shiver of something in her chest.

And she put her face in her hands.

She heard him shift toward her.

And she murmured, "I'm losing my mind. I'm losing my mind. I was sure she was in there waiting for you to come back and fuck her again."

Leon was close, close enough she felt him tug her hands and turn her face up to him. "For the record - I don't bother to lie. She was here. Now she's not."

Jill noticed what he DIDN'T say. She whispered, "You fuck her?"

Tricky ground, he thought, but went with truth. "Nope. But I let her slob on my knob for a half an hour before she went home."

SHIT.

Jill jerked her hands away from him. She moved toward the door. "Gross. I don't know what the hell I'm doing here. What am I doing here? I'm losing my fucking mind."

She grabbed the door. He grabbed her arm. And he turned her against it to hold her there.

She said, quietly and with feeling, "Let me go. It's in your best interest to let me go, right now."

"I don't lie, Jill. Not to you. Not now, not ever. You said friends. You said move on. You said don't wait. You saying something different now?"

She stared at point two inches to the left of his face. "Let go of me, Leon."

"Nope. Answer me."

"We're friends. FRIENDS. But I don't need to hear about your women ok? I don't need to hear it. I don't want to. It's cruel. It's..." She paused, and shifted her eyes to his face, "It's me telling you that Chris likes to fuck me dog style over the back of the couch and pull my hair."

Oh, oh, his face. He was mad now.

GOOD. She was mad. Why? She was just pissed.

"Yeah. Sucks huh? This is hard. For me. For you. For both of us. I know that. I know it. But don't rub it in. Don't do that. I'm not trying to hurt you." She shook her head, "Why are you trying to hurt me?"

Shit.

SHIT. It was a good question. He HATED that it was a good question.

He finally replied, "Because I want you. And you don't want me back."

There it was. Honesty. Oy. It was rough. It was them all over. Rough. They'd been good once. He wanted that back. He wanted it back. He wanted her on her back around him.

Fudge.

Jill hissed, angry and hot, "I want you, you idiot. I want you back. I don't cheat! I don't lie! You lied to me! You broke my fucking heart! I let you go. I did that. Your wife shows up, leggy and fabulous, she makes a fool of me. We lose her in the goddamn forest in a twist of karma that NO ONE can miss. I pick the guy who's good to me, good for me, who treats me right and supports me...and basically ignores me most days. My boss keeps pointing out that it's bad for my rep to be your friend. My friends keep pushing me at you because they know I'm so into you it hurts. I love Chris. I LOVE him. But he and I just keep brushing wrong and all over the place. And still? STILL? I can't get you outta my head."

She kept her hands on the door because she wanted to put them on him. "I love him. He's my best friend. There's something eighty percent right about being with him."

Leon kept volleying his eyes over her face. He held her arm. He held her gaze. "What's missing?"

"You are. You. You know that. The girl and the boy in the tree house. The girl and the boy in the tree. I can't go all in with him. Like he wants. Like he deserves. I can't. Because you're in the way. I let you in the way. And your wife jumped in a balloon to fight for you."

His hands shifted. He grabbed her face to hold her. She shook her head, looking panicked. But he whispered, "Let me fight him for you. Let me fight for you. However you want this to go down. Tell me, and let me try. I will take every fucking torture he can toss at me. I'll deal with the gossip and the giggles and the rest of it. I'm sorry about Alyssa. It's done. I can't take it back. Let me fight for you. He doesn't deserve you, Jill. He doesn't get to win you just by being a decent dude. He's not right for you. Forget him. And let me love you."

A good speech.

She tugged his hands away. She trembled. She opened the door, sorta desperately. "It doesn't work that way. You're still married. Your wife is missing. But you're still married. And I'm his now. I'm his. So, I need to figure out what that means. I can't do that with you so close to me."

He shook his head. He punched the wall beside her. "Jill...you can't love him because he's safe. That's stupid. He loves you. He fucks you like a champ. He's so boring it's killing you. He's not for you. Dump him. Forget him. Come back in here and let me show you the difference."

"Gonna fuck him out of me?" She almost laughed, and then she trembled, kinda yearning for it.

"No. I'll love him out of you. I'm in love with you, Jill. Not friends. Not buddies. I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since that first day you punched that kid for me. Tell me you don't feel the same."

Are you in love with Redfield?

She shivered. She shook her head. "He's good to me. I need to see it through."

"Jill..." Leon's face was a warning, "He deserves better than that. So do you. So do I. Go home, break his heart, he'll survive it. And come back here. Are you in love with me?"

She backed up into the hallway. "I have to go. I can't breathe."

"Are you in love with me, Jill? It's not a hard question."

She backed down the hallway, watching him in the doorway. "I've been in love with you all my life, I think. But it doesn't change anything. I need to breathe. I'm sorry. I'm losing my freaking mind here."

She turned. She ran.
Karma got her again. She tripped and fell and rolled into the wall at the bend in the hallway. A wreath on the neighbor's door shook loose and conked her on the head. She felt the implication of it in her bones.

She went home. She got into her bed.

Chris rolled over to snuggle her. She felt him shift. She felt his hands move. He took her shorts. She spread her legs.

And then?

She grabbed his face and jerked it up to look at him. She snapped her legs closed and whispered, "Do you love me, Chris? Do you?"

His hand latched onto her throat and squeezed, "...you're mine, Jill. Mine. Open your fucking legs."

Jesus. His dirty mouth in bed. She breathed, "Why should I?"

Drunk? His dirty mouth was so much worse. He laughed and palmed her breast in his other hand, "So, I can come in you. So, I can make you scream. So, I can fuck you so hard you cry afterward."

Holy god.

The Sex. It was GOOD. Jill whispered, "Why don't you fuck me like you love me?"

But he was too drunk. He just was. He answered, slurring a little, "Why don't I fuck you like I own you?"

He rolled her over and threw her to the top of the mattress. She grabbed the headboard and braced, she caught her face in the mirror, stricken. Angry? Why? Why was she angry?

She gasped as she crudely readied her for him, shoving his fingers into her body. She gave up on the soft. He just wasn't that type of man. He just wasn't.

Forget him, Jill, and let me show you the difference.

They were so different.

And she loved them both.

It was just that complicated.

She gasped, bucking on his hand as he curled her butt against his groin, "Easy. Easy! I'm not ready."

He was still drunk enough it didn't matter. He rolled on her and she cried out quietly against him, shaking as he plunged into her body. She let him do it. She could have stopped him. He was so willing to please her. He'd never do it if he knew it hurt her.

But she felt like she deserved the hurt of it.

There was no lovemaking now, she thought, just guilt. Ugly guilt and hurt. Ugly guilt and pain. Because she loved him.

And she wasn't happy with him.

He was her friend who fucked her. And she wanted more than that.

He shifted, drilling her harder into the mattress, her mind scattered. Her body said: Take it, bitch. And she did. And she liked it. She gasped, bowing, and let The Sex take away the emptiness of them.

And she wished she was as drunk as the man on top of her.

So she wouldn't have to feel the pain of knowing she might have made the wrong choice.

Work was good. Brad kept trying to give her shit for being friends with a rookie until Chris finally kicked his chair out from under him and sent him to his back. He mused as Brad cursed loudly, "Keep it up Vickers, and I'm gonna rip ass in your mouth while you're sleeping next time."

Scary.

Joseph mused, "Pretty sure Brad eats ass all the time, man. Not sure it would matter."

Jill was so quiet.

Chris kept watching her as she worked.

He'd woken up in her room alone that morning.

She was gone before he'd ever gotten out of bed. Her running stuff was missing. There were skanks in his bathroom and his living room.

He thought maybe she was mad thinking he was touching one of them. He nudged her with his boot and drew her eyes up. And he gestured with his head to the bathroom.

She lifted a brow.

He gestured again.

And Jill remarked, "I don't think you need my help in the shitter, Redfield."

Joseph mused, "Bran muffin, dog. That's how you help that."

Barry was munching dates. He said, "Prunes too, Red. And coffee."

Chris rolled his eyes. He got up and went into the bathroom. Jill followed him in, tentatively.

Closing the door, she said, "You so much as fart in my general direction, Redfield, and I'm going to find out which of us is tougher."

Chris laughed lightly and pressed her back to the door. She blinked and lifted her hands to fist his vest, watching his eyes. "You mad at me, Jill?"

A good question. She could see his concern. She'd been distant. She knew that.

She was thinking about drunken fucking and being in love with two different men.

Her mind said: Yeah? Who? You're only in love with Kennedy.

Shit.

Chris was her best friends here, and she wanted to be straight with him. So, Jill said, "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Skanks. Bathroom. Living room. Not mine, FYI."

Ah.

Jill shook her head, smiling lightly. "Redfield, you're so loyal. If there were an RPD station full of naked skanks, I would still trust you."

Damn.

It echoed. His face? Softened. THERE - Jill thought - there was the real him. The feeling. It was in there. It was hidden beneath good humor and utter fucking laziness. But it was there. Why did he hide it?

"Ditto, kiddo. But why be mad at me then? I can tell you are."

Jill shifted, sighing a little, "Not mad, exactly. Not exactly. What are we doing here, Redfield? I mean, seriously, are we dating? Are we together? Are we fuck buddies? I can't figure it out."

Curious.

Surprised by it, he answered, "You're my girl, Jill. My only girl. I love you. Where's this coming from?"

And there was that, Jill mused, he just laid it out there. He meant it. He never said a word he didn't mean.

She whispered, "I don't feel like your girl, Chris. I feel like your buddy that you fuck. I feel like your friend with benefits. I feel like maybe we're trying to be in something we aren't here."

Ah.

SHIT. He leaned back, watching her face, "You flaking out on me?"

She shook her head, sighing a little, "You never say it. You never show it. You just...fuck me and get drunk and pass out and eat nachos...which..."

She let go of him and swung under his arm to pace. "...which is fine. It's who you are. I know that. But it works for a best friend, Chris. It doesn't work for a boyfriend."

Oh.

Hell.

She was saying he was a shitty boyfriend.

It hadn't once crossed his mind. Honestly. Objectively, he could see her argument there. He'd never really bothered to earn her. He just...kinda stole her from Kennedy and fucked her alot. But he'd thought she was good with that. He didn't think there was a reason to...push...harder.

SHIT. Even as the thought finished he was kinda ashamed of himself. Lazy fucking asshole, the Chris Redfield special.

He leaned on the wall, boot perched, arms crossed, "Ok. I agree, to a point. So what? You want to cut me loose?"

Jill sighed again, she shifted, "I like you. I love you. I just...I don't think you want to be my boyfriend. I think you want to fuck me sometimes so no one else can."

Yep. He was an asshole. He felt like one. He answered, "No. I love you. In love, Jill. In love. I want to be your guy, here. Not lose you because I'm stupid. What do you need? What?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. You're so lazy. It works for you, again. I don't want to change you. I don't. But I don't know how to keep being us and be together too. We're good friends. I'm not happy as your girlfriend. We don't do anything different than when we were friends. Save for fuck like bunnies. I kinda think I should get my own place and go from there."

"...you wanna break up?" SHIT. Lazy and stupid had gotten him dumped. The bad news? He wasn't AWARE he'd been lazy and stupid.

"I wanna take a break," She meant that. She realized she meant it, "Just...date? I want you to try to date me. I want to see if we're wasting our time here or just making fucking the next stage of our friendship. In love? I don't feel that from you, Chris. You don't even hold my hand when we go out."

He blinked. He thought about it.

He realized she was right.

She was RIGHT.

No flowers. No hand holding. He didn't open her door or charm her. He didn't kiss her sweetly and pay for dinner. He didn't do any of the shit guys did to win a girl's affection.

Why?

Because she'd been his friend first.

And he just added the humping and thought they were good.

That was so lowering it was almost pathetic.

Jill shifted, "So, that's where we are. A break. I'll move out and you...decide what you wanna do about it. I'm sorry. I love you, I do. I'm just...tired of being invisible until you want a place to poke your dick. Show me I'm wrong. Or bow out and let me go. Your choice."

She ducked under his arm and left the bathroom.

He stood there, frozen, and felt like the world's biggest asshole.

Great. Stolen from Kennedy to lose her because he was so complacent he just stopped paying attention.

Great.

Apparently, there were no longer any rookies or any STARS in Jill's basket.

And he was going to have to find some charm to win her back.

The bad news? He wasn't sure he had a single speck of any of it.

Jill eased out of the office. The tension was so thick everyone felt it. Joseph asked, just as she was leaving, "You ok, hon?"

And Jill laughed, lightly, "I am. I really am. Tell old dead eye in the bathroom there he knows where to find me when he's ready. I just...I need to go do something real quick."

She eased through the busy lobby. She stopped to watch Pete the Rookie do a handstand and get kicked in the ass.

Amber, the knob slobbering skank from the Chief's office was perched on Leon's desk. She was leaning her enormous breasts over to giggle and coo at him.

Jill licked her teeth. She caught his eye as he looked up.

Amber grinned at her as she wandered over. "Hey, Jill! What's up girl?"

Amber. You couldn't hate her. Why? She was just that nice. Jill smiled back, "I'm great. Can I steal this guy for a minute?"

"Of course!" Amber leaped off the desk in a skirt that barely covered her ass, "I'll see you later, Officer."

She giggled and waggled her acrylic nails as she hurried away. She stopped five times to giggle at other officers.

Jill mused, quietly, "You aware she's slobbering on their knobs too?"

Leon shifted in his chair, watching Jill. "Yup. I said I didn't fuck her. That's why."

Jill nodded sagely. She picked up his badge from the desk and rolled it in her palm. "Let's take a walk."

Curious, he studied her. "With all the spies watching us?"

She shrugged a shoulder, "Fuck the spies. That's done."

Shit.

SHIT.

He leaned back in his chair now, really paying attention. "Is it?"

"Turns out, I'm not the boyfriend type." She studied Amber again, "I'm not the bicycle type either, FYI. But I am the type to stop playing games here. I told him the same thing. I wanna take you to dinner tonight. A real dinner. A real date. And you show me the difference."

He laughed, lightly, "Just like that?"

"Yep." She was aware everyone around them was listening. Fuck it, she went with her gut anyway, "Ask me out, Leon Kennedy."

He rose. She waited, perched on his desk. And he said, quietly, "Here?"

"Here. Now. Unless you're worried about my reputation?"

Heart pounding, he couldn't stop the laugh again. "Fair enough. Dinner. Eight thirty? Wear something fancy."

Oh. She grinned. "I'd love to. One condition."

He tilted his head. She tilted hers. "Nobody sleeps around. Not me. Not you. During the dating? We do just that. We date. Nobody slobs on any knobs. Or rides any bicycles."

Leon put his hands in his pockets and rocked in his boots. "Deal. Kissing?"

"Kissing is ok between friends. But not with bicycles." Jill watched his face, waiting for something there. He just kept smiling at her. And she added, "Your fucking teeth are perfect, by the way."

He laughed. He leaned.

Forrest shouted, "Quit that leaning rookie! I swear to GOD!"

Jill, without missing a beat, called back, "Shut up, Speyer, before I stick my foot up your ass."

Somebody whistled. Ryman, probably, and called, "Rookie, pull your balls outta your back pocket and kiss her!"

Jill laughed, softly, "Could go bad for you to kiss me. I just dumped Redfield upstairs. He's gonna make your life miserable for it."

Leon considered it. He laughed, lightly too. "Screw it. I've been dealing with bullies my whole life. I can handle Chris Redfield."

He leaned, she caught his vest, and he kissed her.

The bullpen was a series of catcalls and stomping feet. Even Amber was laughing. Yep, she was just that kinda girl.

A press of lips. Simple. Nothing dirty.

Jill mused, quietly, "Hmm. Pretty weak. But we'll work on it."

He grinned. She slid away. And he returned, "I'll pick you up at eight thirty."

"See you then, Officer Kennedy. Don't be late. I'm tired of waiting."

She hurried back up the stairs. Chris was leaning by the STARS office, shaking his head, "I handle losing badly, Valentine. Just sayin."

She studied him, curious. "So don't lose. Win."

He smirked, shaking his head, "Romance huh?"

"Romance, Redfield. It's not rocket science. But it's not nachos either." She leaned a little closer to him, "You gotta work for it. Let's see how good you really are. Otherwise? You stay my best friend and the rookie gets the girl. Your choice."

She poked into the office.

Forrest sighed beside him and said, "You can NOT let the rookie get the girl man."

"Dude, you kidding? This kid is dead where he stands. Romance. I'm the mother fucking master of lady-wooing. I just never bothered before. Fucking rookie. He's done for."

"Yep. Stage two of hazing?"

"Yep. Implemented."

Chris signaled Kennedy on the lower deck and pantomimed lynching him.

Kennedy shrugged. He grinned. And he mouthed, soundlessly, "Bring it on...sir."

It was, it seemed, the beginning of the battle for Jill Valentine.