Chapter 25: The Color Green
Claire stood beaming brightly as she admired her appearance in the long body mirror that was located on the back of her and Frederic's bedroom door. Her smile grew wickedly as her eyes traced down her body, following every curve slowly, making sure very lustful part was visible. Last time Claire had went to the Three Olives Club, she hadn't really known what to expect and it showed in her choice of clothing. This time around, she had went all out. She had spent three hundred and fifty of Frederic's hard earned dollars on a dress that she knew she'd only wear once. After the occasion, it'd most likely sit in her closet till dust bunnies grew on the shiny surface.
It was silver in color, very bright and glossy. It clung to her body quite fittingly and caused her butt and hips to poke out even more so than they normally did. It was strapless and that intimidated her a little for she wasn't used to wearing a strapless bra and it was a little uncomfortable. The last time she had actually worn one was at that one RPD party years ago. She had borrowed it from Jill. Before she got too absorbed in thoughts of the past, she snatched a brush up from her dresser and began to brush through her auburn locks. What good did it do to think about some stupid little thing that happened nearly four years ago?
Claire's mind halted. Had it really been that short of time? She felt like it had been forever since she saw her brother or slept under the roof of her parents house or rode her motorcycle. The more she thought about it, the more shocked she became. Where had the years went? She glanced over at the calendar Frederic kept hung in their room. The year was 2002? Wow! She really needed to start watching television again or something. She was losing track of time and it alarmed her a bit.
But when Frederic entered the room and complimented her on how beautiful she looked, all thoughts of the past and time fled her mind. Her only thoughts now consisted of her devious plans of the night. No way would she let anyone intimidate her or make her feel small. She was Frederic Downing's wife and she was going to get some answers tonight if it killed her. She really hoped someone from Umbrella would be there. It also wasn't going to be like last time because Claire already knew a handful of Frederic's workers. She went to WilPharma frequently to make sure things weren't fishy. She'd often scold and yell at people if she felt something looked out of the ordinary.
Like one day she had seen a man carrying a cage of mice and she stopped him in his tracks and screeched as loudly as she could. Nearby workers who were busily doing other things stopped to stare. The youthful man's face turned scarlet and his big blue eyes grew even bigger as Claire howled in rage.
"What the hell are you planning to do with these mice? Hmmm? Are they your first victims to test out your newly researched virus? Hmm? What's next, a human test subject?"
She would have kept going if it had not been for Frederic's interjection.
"Sugar, yes we do use these mice as test subjects, but I don't know where you're getting this nonsense about virus's. We're merely testing our products on them as we've always done. It's protocol." he explained in an almost pleading tone. He looked embarrassed as he turned toward the young man and nodded to him. "Thank you Charles, you may be on your way."
And without even a nod back, Charles hurried speedily from the room. Claire felt slightly foolish for her outburst but then she reminded herself that it could have very well been a virus and she had every right to react that way. History would not repeat itself if Claire Downing could help it!
After parting her hair how she wanted it, she tucked it behind her ears and started for the door. Frederic had once again ordered a limo for the two of them. He had invited Angela to go but because Leon now worked as Fred's guard, he had to constantly be at the house to make sure none of the angry mob members decided to randomly break in. Angela decided to stay with him.
Claire had had to ride Frederic about hiring Leon. Even she thought the idea was silly at first. If Leon just lived with them, he didn't need to work. Frederic made enough money to support them all. But she understood that he didn't want charity or pity and so she thought the gesture would make him feel a little better about himself but she was wrong. She wished there was some way to make him the old Leon again. The one that wore handsome smiles and flirted with her. The one that referred to her as his "little Irish clover". She'd forever miss those days. It does no good to dwell on the past, she thought to herself and let the black and white pictures dissolve from her mind.
Frederic was hard to convince at first.
"Well why should he when he lives here?" he said not seeming in the least to care that an entire family of three lived with him and his wife. He actually seemed to like Leon. If only he knew the truth, he might have a change of heart, Claire thought.
"He's a man and deserves to be treated like one. He doesn't wanna mooch of you and you should be happy about that Fred." Claire scolded back defensively, acting as though she had never shared the same thoughts as her husband.
"I understand where he's coming from Claire but honestly, I don't know if I can aff-
"Oh fiddle dee dee!" she interrupted irritably. "I don't wanna hear that Fred. I have access to our account and I see how fat your paychecks are each wee-"
"Yes but that's just the problem!" he abruptly fired and Claire was quite taken aback for her husband's head was always cool, even in arguments. He always allowed her to bully him but for once he seemed to be standing up for himself. Her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled. She didn't like this new bold Fred and she hoped he wasn't here to stay; she wouldn't tolerate it.
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"You having access to my account is completely draining me. I don't ever have money anymore and I don't-"
"I told you I would get a job but you said you'd prefer me to stay at home." she shot back indignantly.
"No, you're right honey, I.. I don't want you to work...ever." he replied in a low voice. He seemed to look down at the floor as if ashamed of himself. Serves him right!
"Besides I don't drain your account!" Claire continued. "Don't give me that bull. When I do buy things it's usually necessities like food, shampoo, and other things for the house. It's not like I buy pearls and diamonds!"
That was partly true although there were times she'd indulge and get herself a new pair of jeans. She'd also contribute to her Raccoon City fund whenever she could. She'd take about two hundred dollars from their adjoined account and transfer it to her savings. Unbeknownst to her husband of course. But it was only a couple hundred dollars, what did he care? He was the co-founder and manager of a huge pharmaceutical enterprise. He'd never run out of money.
"You're right sugar." he said with a small smile. But his eyes didn't share the grin. They told the truth; what he was really feeling and still Claire felt no ounce of sympathy or regret for anything. He should be the one feeling regret for saying such unfair things to me. He pecked her on the forehead and walked away.
Since the argument which happened only a couple nights ago, Claire and Fred hadn't spoken much. He'd spend more and more time at work, stretching his usual eight hours a day to ten, sometimes twelve hours. Claire wasn't bothered in the least. That was overtime which only meant more money for her. She'd wish he'd stay there all night sometimes. He also appeared to be drinking more and more each day. She'd often smell whiskey on him when he crawled into bed with her at night. He wasn't aware but she was always awake when he'd come in. She didn't care if he drank either but she was a little jealous. She'd search their cupboards all the time and she never found any type of liquor. Who cares, I can just go out and buy a bottle whenever I want.
When they arrived at the party, Frederic greeted everyone with a smile. A smile that was completely false in every way shape and form, but only Claire seemed to notice. She thought it was maybe just that these people were too stupid. Or they just didn't care. It's not like she did either. She received a lot of harsh glares but she expected that. She wasn't exactly on the greatest terms with majority of the people that worked for her husband.
After a couple "hello's" and "how are you's", Claire slipped her arm from Fred's and retreated to the bar. A good sip of brandy before her dirty deeds sounded ideal. She ordered her drink and smiled at the same timid bartender that had served her last time. He asked no questions about her ID this time and readied her drink with haste. She smiled her thanks as she sipped on the dark liquid. The familiar burning sensation in her throat seemed to become addicting for she drained the tiny glass in matter of seconds. Whoa! She thought. Gotta be careful, my Irish blood is starting to show itself. I'm drinking like my grandfather now!
Claire's eyes searched the club, trying to find a target; a victim. She was hoping to see Excella but it didn't appear that the woman was there much to Claire's disappointment . Suddenly a short, round man approached her and fixed her with an odd stare. She had never seen him before but he was throwing daggered beady eyes at her like he already knew what she was about.
"You're Downing's wife, aren't ya?" he asked. He didn't sound too pleased and Claire felt her eyebrows draw closer to one another; forming a bewildered frown upon her face.
"I am." she replied. "Why?"
"Heh." he grunted and with one final almost amused look, he walked off. Claire's eyes followed him until she saw him talking to Frederic. She decided she didn't care what they were discussing. She knew majority of the people around her loathed her but she didn't really care. These people were peasants to her.
/
This is a part in the story that changes briefly from Claire's point of view to Frederic's. This may happen a little bit more in later parts of the story. The main character is still Claire and for the most part, everything will still be told from her perspective. But certain times, it may change! Just a warning :P
/
"That little, young thing is really your wife Fred?" Frank asked looking amused. Fred frowned in reply. Frank was under Fred as all the people at the club pretty much were, they all worked for him. He was the boss. But sometimes he didn't feel as if he had control or power over them. A lot of them knew how to get under his skin and Frank was the worst.
"Why, jealous are we?" Frederic growled, trying to weaken the burning shame he felt on his face. Frank roared with laughter.
"Jealous of a girl who bullies ya, steals from ya, mooches off ya, and above everything else is trying to run your company for ya? I tell ya Fred, she's cute but I don't envy you."
The flesh of Frederic's cheeks grew even hotter. Everyone knew of Claire and what she was doing though he wasn't entirely sure how. Perhaps it was the way she spoke to him in front of them all. Maybe that was enough to expose her.
"She's not a moocher." said Frederic, trying to defend his wife, though he wasn't entirely sure why he was doing so. "I don't want her to work and you know why."
"Afraid she'll run off like Belle did?" he asked seriously. For the moment the Three Olives Club faded from view and all Frederic saw before him was blackness. He slowly opened his eyes and cleared his throat. He couldn't help himself. Even after the passing years, still hearing her name nearly made his bones rattle with unsettling sorrow.
"People are losin' respect for you man." Frank added, changing the subject and Frederic was grateful. "I hate to say it but it's true. And you know she's gonna ruin the company if you keep letting her in, I tell ya. I heard about her little outburst with Charles and the rats, are you sure ya didn't pick her up from the end of your lawn? If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was one of them mob members, she sure as hell acts like em."
Frederic knew that Claire only acted so strongly because she had been from Raccoon City but he really hoped she'd end up getting over it soon. He realized it probably had done more damage than he'd ever be able to comprehend. In fact, she never had told him exactly all she had been through. He found out bits and pieces from Angela and Leon but Claire herself refused to ever talk about her past with him. He would like to talk to his wife on a serious level. Then maybe he'd be able to open up to her about his own rough past and move on from it. Maybe he could fall in love with her and she with him. He sighed inwardly knowing that was an idiotic thought. She'd never love him and though in some regard he did care for her, he knew he didn't love her either. He'd never love anyone that way he had his first wife Belle. Tara had come close for she had reminded him of his first wife. Her attitude had matched Belle's perfectly.
People thought he was insane for loving women who were spoiled rotten and lazy but he couldn't help it. Claire surely was spoiled at times but she certainly wasn't lazy and he wasn't used to that nor did he like it very much. How he had grown up, the woman stayed at home and cleaned, cooked and took care of the kids while then men worked. So in some regard, he didn't want a totally lazy woman. But if there were no kids living under the roof, why shouldn't the woman be able to lay around if she so chooses?
Belle had been that way until she ran off with a guy she had met while working. She had complained to Fred about being bored all day at their house alone while he worked. They had no children and she felt alone. She begged him to allow her to work down at the local supermarket since they were hiring. All she had to do was flash those light, brown eyes his way and he was in agreement. But the worst came about three months into her working there, she had met another man and left Fred, stating in a written letter that she was going back to England, the place both he and she were originally from. She was to be remarried there and she left him the divorce papers right behind the letter.
Tara had been the perfect replacement for she loved to stay at home and sleep the day away, party and drink at night and make love to him for hours at a time. She reminded him of how Belle once was before she desired adventure and met her new lover. Tara was a great distraction and had gotten his mind off of a lot. He had loved her, even fallen for her. And yet, he knew no one could ever compare to the way he felt for Belle. They had been together almost ten years and she had broken him. Since then he knew he'd never be the same.
Bringing his mind back to the matter at hand, Frederic just wished Claire understood that WilPharma had no intention of conducting anything viral. He constantly tried to tell her that but it was just a waste of breath for she never listened to a damn thing he said.
"Well what can I do?" he snapped irritably. "I can't just prohibit her from coming to the plant."
"Why not?" Frank asked. "You're the boss ain't ya?"
Frederic thought the question over. Suddenly, he didn't wanna be the boss. Not any longer. He wanted someone else to take the position. At one point in life, he had loved his job. But all that changed. He didn't enjoy really anything anymore and it confused and upset him. He knew the truth deep down but hated thinking about it and admitting it. He was a weak man. Betrayal had ruined him and now he let any woman walk over him just for the sake of having someone. He'd think of Belle and how happy she must be with this other man and he felt ashamed. He needed someone too so that if Belle ever heard anything about him, she'd hear he was happily married. Only in reality, he wasn't happy, at all. If he had married Tara, he would have been for she was more emotionally attached to him. She could be harsh but at least she talked to him, had sex with him, cuddled with him and above all else, loved him. She could be petty but that was because she was young. Claire was completely different and he hated it.
"I'm just saying, I feel for ya bud. It isn't right what she's doin to ya. And I love WilPharma, you know that. I'd do anything to keep that place from dying off but with a wife like that, it's gonna happen. I just don't trust her, at all. Just think about it." and with that he was gone leaving a very puzzled Frederic behind.
/
Claire sat in the corner searching hungrily for a new face. For someone she knew wasn't from WilPharma. There were a lot of people she did recognize and she knew a lot of them by name now. It was so odd how only about eight months earlier when she had been at the very same club, these people looked so foreign, new and enthralling to her. Now they were old news, boring and she needed a fresh face.
She suddenly spotted Excella and though her face wasn't a new one, Claire was beyond pleased to have found her. Not only because she may be able to get some info out of the woman but also because unlike their last less than graceful encounter, Claire was prepared. She looked hot and she knew it. One couldn't simply be in the presence of Excella Gionne without looking extremely dazzling. If you were any less than that, you'd feel ugly and horrible about yourself. Claire remembered feeling that way last time. But now she felt almost equal to the woman standing only a couple feet before her. She was surprised to not see a single one of Excella's "lap dogs" drooling and hanging all over her. Claire figured that the only reason she didn't have a collection of her own bothersome dogs, was because most of the men knew or at least heard of her by now. They knew she wasn't as sweet and pretty as she may appear on the outside. Either that or they knew she was the "bosses lady." She didn't care much about it all though. It would annoy her more than flatter her if she constantly had men bowing to her feet. Frederic was enough. She didn't need more slaves.
She approached Excella and saw the woman's pale eyes increase in shape when they made contact with Claire's sharp blue ones. She looked even more beautiful then last time in a long, sapphire-blue dress and dark brown locks that cascaded down around her shoulders and over the swell of her breast that were visible through the low cut center.
"Hello Excella, how are you?" Claire cooed with a grin. Excella gave a look of worry for a split second but then it was gone and she was back to the way Claire remembered, cold and curt.
"Redfield." she replied snidely. Then it seemed as if the corners of her glossed lips turned upward into a smile. She was actually smiling and it was breath taking to say the least. Pearly white, straight teeth peeked out of her mouth and only added to her handsome features. Claire was beginning to feel defeated but she fought against her weak feelings and as always, beat them.
"Is something funny?"
"Oh just the fact that I called you by your maiden name." Excella laughed a quick sorta "ah huh" laugh then continued. "It's just funny that only a couple months ago I had made a joke about you and Fred and now you're married to him, that's all."
Claire pretended to be amused. It was the most she'd ever spoken to the woman so she couldn't mess it up and accidentally insult her like last time, though she wasn't even sure how she had managed to do so in the first place.
"Excuse me." Excella said and turned to walk off but Claire caught a hold of her arm. Excella looked positively outraged when she turned fiery eyes back on Claire. "Excuse you? Take your hands off-"
"I want you ask you something." Claire pressed sharply
"Well I don't wish to talk to you any longer." Excella said with finality as she snatched herself from Claire's grasp and walked off, her loud heels rhythmic on the hard floor. As if Excella's anger was contagious, Claire followed after with fury burning her insides. Her stomach felt hot and her veins felt as if fire rushed through them in place of blood. She was livid! Why did this woman always act like this toward her? What had she done?
Claire could care less if Excella despised her, half the people in the room around her hated her. She just wanted to know why. Excella knew something and Claire was going to find out what.
She tore through the crowd, bumping and knocking into people as she forced herself across the room. She was getting even more dirty looks now but she hardly paid any mind to the fools around her.
That was until her eyes fell upon Albert Wesker. Her feet halted along with her breathing. Her heart sank into her unsettling stomach. What the hell was he doing there? She didn't recall seeing him the last time she was there. She was cursing herself now for wishing someone from Umbrella was there. She'd have rather dealt with no one than him!
She found it so annoyingly strange that out of everyone from the past; everyone who had survived, she only ever ran into Wesker. Why couldn't it be Rebecca or Enrico? Anyone but Albert Wesker! Fate was against her, she knew it for a fact now. That or he stalked and followed her. She frowned at that alarming possibility.
Maybe he hasn't seen me. She thought and tried to remove herself from the assemblage. She couldn't tell what he was looking at because those damn sunglasses but she didn't want to chance it. She moved to one of the chairs in the corner and plopped her bottom down onto it, hoping Wesker hadn't spotted her. She knew he'd attempt to talk to her so he could tease her, insult her, and make her feel like an idiot. He loved messing with her and she still could not put her finger on why. Bastard.
When it seemed like she had sat there for a century, she decided to stop being so scared. She felt she was acting very stupid for Claire Downing was no coward! She'd especially never cower before Wesker. His mind-boggling, twisted words used to alarm her but not anymore. She wasn't as young and naive as before. It's not that she was frightened of him, she just didn't want him to know her business. She didn't want to speak to him though she knew he would pounce on the chance to find out what she had been up to. Why was he so weird and annoying?
She debated on ordering another drink and then decided she would. She searched around first trying to find her husband but caught no glimpse of him. She hadn't seen him for a couple hours now which was a little odd but soon the thought became a distant memory as she guzzled down another small glass of brandy.
"I don't suppose you're driving yourself home tonight." The voice was as smooth as silk, dark as night, and as dull as the shade of gray. She turned and the face matched the voice perfectly. She wasn't surprised, she knew he'd find her. He always did. It was as if he could hear her mind. And yet, he had still ruffled her heart when she had heard him. She didn't know if it was just because the voice was so sudden and broke through her quieted thoughts. Or if it was the familiarity and dullness within his tone that had caused the jump in her chest. Regardless of the reason, she was irritated he had found her.
"What are you doing here?" he questioned through narrow-slanted eyes. She noticed he looked pretty classy in the black tuxedo he was sporting. His doughty, familiar aroma filled the air around Claire and her mind became hazy for a moment. The fresh, clean but also brawny scent of aftershave, expensive cologne and a mix of mint. He did always smell divine, she had to give him that much credit. And he didn't try too hard or wear too much cologne the way she noticed other men did. It was perfect and the scent hugged her nostrils till she could do nothing but breathe in the freshness.
"I'm doing well my dear, how are you?" he asked with a sarcastic grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. She rolled her eyes and took another big swig of brandy. She'd need it if she was going to converse with Albert Wesker.
"Fine, don't answer my question. Less for us to talk about that way."
"I do believe I should be asking you that question." he replied. His face was as still and stony looking as a block of cement. His dark shades sat upon his slightly pointed nose, once again hiding two crystal pools from the rest of the world. Claire frowned at herself. Why did at least one graceful thought always cross her mind while around Wesker? She had to mentally block out the fact that he was handsome. She had known that for years so why was it a big deal to always point out a good feature on him when she'd see him? His features are only good physically. If you include his personality he's an unattractive, old jerk. She was content with that thought.
He titled his head and stared at her deeply, trying to read her expression. He didn't have to try too hard. Claire was quite terrible at masking what she was feeling. Not that she ever cared to anyway. Her bright blue eyes searched his face and traced the curves of every protruding bone. She was very thorough. She always squinted when looking at his sunglasses and he figured it was because she was attempting to see what was under them. She had seen them before and he knew she liked his eyes, everyone who saw them did. And though Claire was different from any other woman he had ever known, even she had been charmed by them.
He never understood the appeal but then again he never gave much thought to his own looks. He was a conceited man in the fact that he always had to be shaved, hair combed neatly in place, and clothes tidy and unwrinkled. But beyond that, he didn't study or worry about his other features. Of course he stayed fit too but that was really it. He could tell she was having some sort of debate within her head and he knew it probably had to do with him. He knew he had some kind of affect on her even if she was still unaware of the fact.
His eyes trailed down her body and he noted that she seemed to be more curvier than the last time he saw her. But then again she always had had an appealing body that came equipped with a flat stomach, protruding hips, wide thighs, a huge ass and long, slender legs. Her breast were decent too and he got a pretty good view of them tonight as they peeked out of the opening slit of her gleaming, silvery gown.
He was amused at seeing her dress so posh for he knew deep down she hated dressing up. And he much preferred her normal, causal, everyday attire because it was more her. Still, he couldn't deny that she looked both sexy and elegant in the dress she was wearing.
Her face would always be beautiful to him. Her blue eyes always drew him in for they held a flame within their depths and he loved that because they allowed one to know exactly who Claire Redfield was. She was fiery, feisty, selfish, brutal but above all else she was strong. He traced the out edges of her mouth with his eyes. She had very nice, big, full lips that were soft and tasted sweet, he recalled when he had felt them against his own mouth. Her auburn hair framed her pale face in a way that was completely her own. Her eyebrows may be his favorite feature of hers for they always expressed how she was feeling. They pulled together in bewilderment or frustration, they'd raise at surprise, and the left one would simply arch if she was actually deciding to be playful and coquettish.
"What do you mean? I was here last time. Where were you?" her voice brought him out of his thinking.
"Ahh I couldn't make it here last time. I am still working part time at the police station you see."
"I don't care, really." she mumbled dryly.
"Of course you do not care because it has nothing to do with you, correct?"
"Are you implying that I'm selfish?" she asked defensively and he couldn't help but chuckle.
"The same old Claire Redfield."
"Actually I'm not." she said crisply. "I'm now Claire Downing."
For a moment Wesker felt his face twitch. But he wasn't as shocked once the words really sunk in. He had heard a rumor from some ignorant WilPharma worker when he had visited their plant last month. He made trips from Tricell to WilPharma to give advice and help out. Though he had given up his career as a scientist, it was still a hobby of his and he still enjoyed it.
He had heard a rumor of a feisty redhead who was constantly making threats and scolding the workers about virus's and bioterrorism. He also heard the name Claire mumbled but had merely brushed it off as a coincidence. But deep down he sensed the truth. At least he had had prior warning. Surprisingly the news didn't bother him like he thought it may have. It was actually quite amusing when he thought more in depth about it. Claire Redfield married to Frederic Downing? He pitied the man even more so now. He hardly knew how to handle the rowdy men at WilPharma let alone a spitfire like Claire.
Claire noticed Wesker's still face change for a second. But she couldn't tell what it had changed to. When she had finished her statement, it was as if he winced but she couldn't tell why. Then a second later, he was back to his usual concrete frown. She was confused but didn't care enough to really ponder it. She wanted him to leave her alone.
"Ahh so I've heard. Congratulations. I suppose this means you gave up on Mr. Kennedy? he asked. He felt immense satisfaction when she looked outraged. But then it seemed like she was learning a thing or two from him as she composed herself before speaking.
"So you still hate Leon Kennedy, do you?" she questioned with amusement flickering in her eyes as a smile played upon her delicate, pink mouth. "You know I'm beginning to think you're jealous of him."
Wesker let out a deep, throaty chuckle before replying.
"You just think you're the belle of the county don't you?" he asked with a plastered grin. "That you're the cutest little trick around and that every man you meet his dying of love for you."
He noticed her eyes narrow and she threw him a sour look.
"Can you leave me alone, please?"
"One would think you'd have gotten over him." His tone had went from somewhat playful and amused to cold. Just like his facial expressions, his voice was bipolar, Claire thought. "Because you are now married to another man. So, have you moved on? Do you love the man that you are now bound to for life?" he was inching closer to her and his voice was getting louder. But Claire stood her ground, refusing to cower before this man even though she did feel slight fear creeping into her. She had never heard him speak in such a tone. Wesker towered over her like a tall, looming tree. This man wasn't Frederic or Archie or Leon. He wasn't the type of man she was used to being around or a man she knew she could manipulate. This was Wesker and he wasn't weak like the rest of the men she knew. So she had to be careful even though she had chosen not to falter before him.
"Is that any of your business?"
"So you still have yet to remove the dull-minded Kennedy from your mind, have you?"
Before she could answer, he turned away from her. He knew the truth and he couldn't stand to look at her any longer. How one minute she was making him smile and the next turning his stomach so vilely, he didn't understand. But he blamed himself more so then her. This is what he deserved for allowing real emotions to consume him. He hustled away from her quickly feeling raw anger scald his limbs with every heavy footstep he took. He wasn't fuming at the fact that Claire was married. It had actually been a wise move on her part. Now she had all the money she needed and a secured roof over her head.
He had been somewhat green when he had first found out for he remembered offering her the chance to try with him and she had refused. Perhaps she had needed time to think. And he had hoped against hope that she had finally gotten that sad-eyed Kennedy out of her heart. But she was still under his spell and that's what bothered him beyond anything though he wasn't sure why. He should know she wouldn't be over him. She was determined, stubborn, strong-minded Claire. He knew she wouldn't stop till she had what she wanted. Even if the feelings faded slightly, she'd force herself to keep loving Kennedy because she hated to lose. The things he admired about her were also the very things he hated about her. But she's just like you and that's why she belongs to you, she should be yours...
Claire watched Wesker turn from her and storm off with a quick pace and she was glad. She didn't exactly understand why but the looks he was giving her implied he was mad. She tried to think of what she had said to upset him. Saying the jealousy thing about Leon could have lead to it. She thought that over. Was he actually jealous of Leon? She always felt like he was but for what? It's not like Claire had Leon. But maybe because he knew she loved him? Did Wesker care about her? She snorted at her own thoughts. There she went again, letting him win, letting him mess with her head. Wesker didn't have real emotions and would never care for anyone. No matter what he told her in the past, she'd never believe the man cared for anyone but himself.
It definitely seemed like there was something more to why he had so abruptly walked off but she really didn't feel like thinking it over and wasting time on it. It mattered not to her anyway. She, like always, would forget she'd even seen the arrogant blonde man today.
Claire felt a headache sneaking up on her and figured it was from the brandy. Sometimes instead of giving her the tipsy buzz she loved, the liquor would cause a pounding in her head and a tired weakness in her eyes. She knew it was time to go. She forced herself up to look for Frederic. She once again hadn't gotten any information but it was okay. This place wasn't her only resource anymore. She just wanted to get out of the tight dress she wore and the flats that were blistering her feet, and crawl into her nice warm bed. Not even Frederic's snores would keep her up tonight. She was craving sleep. Lucky for her, she didn't have to search for Frederic. He was sitting in a darkened corner by himself, sipping on whiskey. When Claire got closer, it seemed as if he had had a couple more drinks than she had. His eyes were bloodshot, his head hung low and when he did finally acknowledge her and and spoke, he was slurring.
"Do you wanna leave hon?" he asked thickly. She nodded, too tired to really speak. That brandy was kicking her ass tonight. And not the way she had wanted it to. One minute she was fired up and ready for a war with Wesker, the next she just longed to dive into her bed and sleep.
"One second." he blurbed and staggered out of his chair and away from Claire.
"C'mon Fred, I'm tired." she barked. She was surprised that she still had the power to raise her voice, that's how haggard she felt and the pain in her head was increasing.
"One minute, I have to tell Frank something."
"Well tell him on Monday at work, I wanna leave."
He responded by putting his pointer finger up at her as if to say wait and she felt her annoyance upgrade to anger.
"Five minutes or I'm fucking taking the limo and leaving your ass here and you can catch a ride home with Frank." she hissed.
She sat in the seat she had found Frederic in as she waited for him to come back. She couldn't even tell where he went and she only hoped he hadn't fallen asleep in the bathroom or something stupid like that. He had seemed pretty out of it. As the time trailed on, Claire's patients grew dimmer. That's it! She thought and stomped loudly up from the chair. Her head spun in all directions searching for her drunken husband. She was about to start shouting his name when suddenly she felt her mouth slam shut. Her eyes grew wide and her stomach rolled over on her and made her feel something that was familiar to her and yet she didn't know what it was.
Before her eyes was Excella Gionne in Albert Wesker's arms. The two were on the dance floor in a very close embrace dancing to a nice slow song. They weren't the only couple on the floor but they were the only ones that caught Claire's attention and held it. They were both very skilled dancers. Though the song was slow it still gave them plenty of opportunity to show off their abilities. Wesker twirled and dipped her several times, she spun in and out of his arms and Claire couldn't deny that they looked so aesthetic together.
But to Claire's horror she realized what that familiar surge of warmth was within her stomach. Great balls of fire! I'm jealous! She thought with genuine shock. But why was she jealous? Perhaps it was because Excella moved so smoothly and Claire knew she'd never look that good dancing. Yeah, that was it. She envied Excella's graceful movements... Then why did she experience that sting in her chest, heat in her gut, and pounding in her heart whenever her eyes fell upon Albert Wesker?
A/N: So I'd like to point something out, in earlier chapters when Claire would say "fiddle dee dee" I had written it like "fidde ee dee" because if you've ever actually heard someone say fiddle dee dee, they don't exactly pronounce the the second D in dee (lol). So it sounds more like "fiddle EE dee" vs "fiddle DEE DEE" .. However I wanna stay true to Gone With The Wind and the actual saying itself so I'm going to write it out from now on but just know it's being said like "fiddle ee dee" .. Just so there's no confusion. Sorry for the abrupt ending also, I didn't wanna make it too long. Please R&R, you know I appreciate it. To those of you who are really sticking with me: thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, and also thank youuuu! You rock and I love you all ;)