Mission: Almost Impossible

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the story. Everything else is owned by Capcom. Oh, wait a minute. I own Blade Stryker. Oh! And I keep forgetting to mention I also own Jaws! Silly me. Oh, and Daredevil, too.

Summary: Leon and Krauser are the best agents President Graham has had in years, but he sends them on missions even I could do.

Chapter 34: At Umbrella

"Oh, God..." Krauser groaned as he stumbled down one of the many halls after Sergei and Wesker, holding his queasy stomach. "I think I'm allergic to helicopters..."

"It's called being airsick, Krauser." Wesker said.

"If I were sick of the air, I'd be dead now cuz I need that shit to live!"

"No, it's- oh, never mind. Just keep following us."

As the trio walked, Wesker would explain to Krauser what everything was and specifically tell him not to touch anything. Krauser didn't get why he'd say that. It's not like he would break anything just by touching it.

"There's the coffee machine. Don't touch. There's one of our specimen. Don't touch. That's one of my many secretaries. Also, she is my mother. Don't touch."

"I want a secretary!" The commando whined.

"Well, good news for you, Krauser. You're going to BE a secretary."

"...Come again?"

The pen glided over the notebook paper swiftly as Graham hummed along to the merry little tune playing in his ears from his bulky headphones. He bobbed his head hard enough to throw them off; not that he noticed. He continued to bob his head, thinking the headphones were still on, as he did chicken scratch on the paper.

Leon invited himself into the Oval Office. He cocked his head to the side as he watched Graham having what he thought was a seizure when he was simply rocking out.

"Mr. Prez, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, boy!" The President replied, sounding chipper.

"Um...what are you doing?"

"Drawing!" He held up the paper so the agent could see his doodle; a stick figure with big, pointy ears fighting another stick figure with long, flowing hair. "It's Legolas fighting an elf." He smiled.

"Why is Legolas fighting an elf?"

"Because he touches himself at night."

"..." Leon decided to ignore the very weird and random answer.

"Hey, why isn't Krauser here?"

"...Mr. President, did you forget what happened just yesterday?"

"That depends. What part of yesterday are you talking about?"

"The part where Sergei and Wesker told us they were the ones who resurrected Umbrella and left with Krauser!"

"Hmm..." Graham tapped the end of his pen on his chin, leaving little black dots there. "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell."

"Grr..." The agent ran out of the office, screaming out of frustration and skepticism that the President had actually forgotten yesterday's events.

"Are you serious?! Why?! WHY?!" The commando looked down at his secretary attire, which consisted of his normal army boots and a very short leather skirt. Nothing more, nothing less. "You said I would have respect! Does THIS look dignifying to you?!"

"It's just a temporary spot." Wesker pointed at a picture on a large chart covered in photos of current Umbrella employees. "We're planning on eliminating this man. He's got a pretty high rank and there are no spots available for higher ranking Umbrella staff. Once he's gone, his spot is yours."

"And how long is that gonna take?!"

"Patience, Krauser." Sergei said from the desk - his desk - he sat at, feet propped on top and leaning far back in his chair. "Just wait."

"You'll be my direct secretary." Wesker continued. "I have a ton of secretaries, but only one is actually MY secretary. The rest are just secretaries of my secretary's secretaries. Does that make any sense to you?"

Krauser stared blankly into space, his eyes crossed and his tongue lolling out.

"...Okay, I'll take that as a maybe. Now, let me take you to your office." Wesker led the other blond to a nicely furnished room, complete with a mini table-top water fountain situated in the corner of the desk and some sort of odd stand next to the desk. The stand seemed to be made of brass and a little sheet was covering the top, where there was a peculiar oval-ish shape moving under the covers.

"What the hell is that?!" The commando asked, pointing.

"That brass stand is-"

"No! I meant the thing on the desk!"

"...The fountain?"

"Yes!" Krauser approached the desk, completely fascinated with the miniature water fountain.

"It's just a water fountain."

"But look at it! It's on the desk! And it's little!" The scarred man started observing the fountain from all angles. "Does that mean water shoots up from the desk?"

"No, Krauser, it-"

"Hello." A unsure, but adorable voice spoke from under the sheet. This voice made Krauser jump, sending him to the floor and shrieking like a little girl.

"It talked to me!" He yelled. "Oh, my God, the sheet is haunted!"

"No, stupid!" Wesker approached the brass stand and pulled the sheet off. There was a small grey bird underneath, the bird itself being covered by the sheet rather than being in a cage with the sheet over that. "This is Lollipop. He is an African Grey parrot. He's supposed to be some sort of helper bird. Treat him right and don't eat him."

"Hello." The small bird said again.

"Oh, my God!" Krauser shouted as he stood. "It's a chicken!"

"...Were you even LISTENING to me? He's not a-"

"Oh, hello, little grey chicken." Krauser cooed, scratching the bird on the head. Lollipop turned his head so the human could scratch him better. "Aren't you cute?"

"Yeah!" Lollipop squealed like a small child.

"Oh, my God, he's so freaking cute and epic! I had no idea chickens could talk..."

Wesker smacked his hand to his forehead and shook his head, sighing. "Just get to work, Krauser."

Leon gave the TV an exaggerated pout of sadness as he played Alone In The Residence in two player mode. While he worked the first controller, the second one sat abandoned next to him, the character on the screen remaining still. Had Krauser not left with Wesker and Sergei, he would be controlling the second player character, helping Leon fight off the hordes of zombie upper class families who had members named Race and Sophia and Bob and other such names.

"Krauseeeeeeer..." The brunette whimpered, watching as the second player character got killed by a little girl zombie wearing clothes under the brand name Stupid Spoiled Whore.

Blade was also in the game room with Leon, but he didn't play with him. Instead, he just sat on the couch and sulked. Earlier, Leon had asked nicely - and, in a way, adorably - if he'd like to play with him, but the gunman just snarled at him in an almost animalistic fashion that made Leon scream like a little girl and curl up in the corner for about half an hour before he summoned the courage to crawl over to the TV and play some games on the Playstation 3.

That was three hours ago and neither man spoke to each other during that time. At least not until Leon asked the younger agent, "You wanna play now?"

Blade frowned a little, but thought for a moment and shrugged before getting up from the couch. "I'll play."

"Yay!"

The gunman took a seat next to the brunette. "Now, how do you play?"

Leon suddenly stood and slammed his controller into the ground, yelling, "This isn't working!" and stormed out of the room.

Blade, completely confused, watched him leave, wondering what the hell he'd just said to make the older agent leave the room fuming like a woman with the worst case of PMS ever.

Krauser giggled as he sent another IM. He should've been working on his secretary shit, but he found it more fun to IM a ton of his friends. Next to him, Lollipop appeared to be gnawing on a Blackberry phone, but in actuality he, too, was sending IMs, one of the recipients being Krauser.

The human made a sound of perplexity as he found one name on his buddies list that he didn't recognize; bitchinredbitchindeed. With a shrug, he sent a message to that person saying, 'hi who r u?'

He got a reply back saying, 'u idiot its me ada.'

'like omg hi!!!!!! did u hear the newz?!?!'

'wat news?'

'umbrella's bak!!!! :D'

'o yea thats nice krauser'

'u dont care!!!!! :('

'no i dont'

'y?!?!?!'

'y wat?'

'o sry lil grey chicken i sent that 2 the wrong person' Krauser was in the middle of sending a message to Ada when someone slammed their hands down on his desk and he gave a surprised shout.

"Krauser, what are you and Pablo doing?!" Wesker growled, his voice encased in rage.

"We were just sending- Wait, who's Pablo?"

The blond wearing sunglasses pointed at the African Grey.

"Isn't his name Lollipop?"

"Of course it isn't! What kind of a dumb name is Lollipop? Now get back to work!"

Pablo sent a kiss Wesker's way, who responded by pointing at him and telling him to stop sucking up of he'd take away his company-provided Blackberry.

"You're bad!" Pablo squealed.

"Yes, I know that!" Wesker left, very much displeased. At least Krauser thought he was. People normally didn't slam doors so hard that they came off the hinges when they weren't displeased.

"You think he's mad?" The agent-gone-secretary inquired of the little bird.

"What?" The parrot replied.

The fading darkness was giving way to more and more sunlight as Leon arose from bed, wearing a pair of pineapple-printed pajama pants and nothing else.

"Ugh..." He groaned, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and rubbing his face. He looked down, his eyes bulging. "Why am I wearing the President's pants?!" Then he recalled that during the time Graham was in jail, he had spilled something on the pants and since someone was taking a ride in the washing machine at the moment, Leon brought them home to wash them. He must've forgotten to return the pants and slipped them on last night for bed.

Yawning, the brunette got up and trudged over to Krauser's room. "Krauser, get your fat, lazy ass up!" He kicked the door open, the sight of the empty room reminding him that his housemate was no longer his housemate.

The room was just as it was when Krauser had left; a complete mess with old, dirty dishes growing full of mold and fungus and an occasional rat crawling by with the bone from a chicken leg.

Not only did Leon not want to clean the room because he wanted to keep it the way Krauser had left it when he was last in there, but it also scared the crap out of him. He was afraid he might find a hobo or two in the mess, or get lost and never be heard from again.

He took his cue to exit when one of Krauser's berets walked by. Thinking it was haunted, he screamed girlishly and left, slamming the door behind him, when it was really just a rat underneath the beret.

Krauser tossed and turned in his sleep, weakly flailing his limbs and moaning, "Cobras...Cobras!" in a distressed fashion. Pablo was somehow able to sleep through his antics until the commando managed to kick the water fountain off his desk and it hit the floor with a loud noise, making the African Grey's head dart up in alarm. The noise also caused Krauser to awaken, frightening him and making him fall right off the desk.

"Ow! Damn it!" He growled, rubbing his head. "I want more sleep..." He grabbed the blanket up off the floor and climbed back onto the desk, curling up to keep any part of him from hanging off the edges. He'd just finished covering himself again and closed his eyes when Wesker came in.

He looked the commando over with a raised brow. "Krauser...were you here all night?"

"Well, no shit!" Krauser replied as if the answer were that obvious. "I have no place to live now, so I had to sleep here!"

The elder man nodded. "True, true. I actually slept in my office, too, but...I didn't sleep on the desk...Why are you sleeping on the desk?"

"Because there's nowhere else to sleep and I am NOT sleeping on the floor like a giraffe! Pablo didn't want to share his stand."

"Who the hell is Pablo?"

"Him!" Krauser pointed at the parrot, who was too busy texting someone on his Blackberry to give a damn about what the two men were talking about.

"Krauser, his name is Bob."

The secretary stared at his boss, his expression clearly saying he was stunned. He stuttered over his own words, asking why Wesker was now saying his name was Bob and not Pablo.

"I never said his name was Pablo." He snickered. "Pablo. What a stupid name. Now," He straightened himself up. "get to work. That's what you should've been doing three hours ago." With that said, he left.

Sergei smirked cunningly as he watched the scene from behind the protective window. Three Umbrella employees, hired as feeders for the experiments, cautiously advanced on the screaming creature in the corner, each of them holding very long sticks adorned with raw steaks speared at the ends.

The creature, a strange-looking fox with patches of exposed flesh on its body, snapped at one of the sticks, tearing off the steak and swinging its head around like it was trying to kill the meat.

The three feeders screamed and ran out of the room as fast as they could. The creature, however, had other plans for them and chased after them. Two got away, but one didn't. The creature had pounced on the one guy while the other two fled the room - locking all twenty locks on the door - and they flew past Sergei, both screaming and crying.

The Russian man grinned as he watched the fox thing corner the poor man, snarling and drooling all over the floor. He was given a major surprise when the fox thing leapt upon the man and started licking his face like a zealous dog who finally saw his owner again after a long day apart.

"...What?" Sergei's eye twitched from the total unexpectedness of what had just occurred. He grabbed the clipboard from beside the door and scanned over it carefully. He knew that creature had been injected with the H-Virus because he was there when the researcher had administered the shot and wondered what flaw could've been made while creating that virus. His jaw dropped when he saw that instead of being given the right H-Virus, the Hazardous-Virus, it was given the other H-Virus; the Happy-Virus.

Growling, he turned to storm away when he was greeted with Wesker's face incredibly close to his own and he screamed, falling backwards and smacking the back of his head against the door.

"Damn, Sergei, calm down." The blond looked down at his comrade, waiting for him to reply. He never moved, but his leg gave a small twitch every now and then. "Um...Sergei? Hello? Sergei?"

The cell phone resting on Krauser's desk suddenly buzzed and vibrated. Krauser eagerly picked it up, then frowned when he saw the person who had sent him a message was sunglasses4life; Wesker.

'Call 991!' the message had said.

'wats 991???' Krauser replied.

'Im sorry. That was a typo. I meant 911.'

'y???'

'Sergei got hurt! He needs medical attention!'

'dont we hav doctors around here 4 that?'

'Something ate them! Call 911!'

'fine wats the # 2 911???'

'Forget it. Ill call them myself.'

Krauser snorted. At least the big cheese was done harassing him so he could continue texting his friends and Bob while checking out his MyFace account.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Prez?" Leon asked upon finding a hysterical Graham in the Oval Office.

"Leon! Oh, my God, it's terrible!" The President dry sobbed.

"What?"

"Krauser hasn't been to work in DAYS. Where could he be?!"

"..." The agent smacked his forehead. "Mr. President, don't you remember-"

"Daddy's been repressing a lot of bad memories lately." Ashley invited herself in, standing beside Leon. "Ever since...you know...everything bad that's ever happened to him has been forgotten."

Graham set his sights on his daughter and asked, "Who are you?"

"Oh, Daddy!" Ashley frowned, glaring at the man beside her when he starting chuckling. "It's not funny, Leon!"

"Both of you, get out of my office!" Graham opened a drawer and pulled out a pineapple, cuddling it close. "I need to be alone."

"No problem there, Daddy." The blonde led the agent out by the hand, ignoring her father when he shouted at her, "And stop calling me 'Daddy!' I'm not your father and I don't know who you are!"

A bright blush painted Krauser's face rosy as he walked down the hall to the copy room. He honestly hated all the stares he got from the employees as his leather skirt kept trying to ride up because so far, all the employees who ogled him were males. He grinned whenever a female employee would pass him by chance and give him a wink or something.

Bob followed Krauser down the hall, going as fast as his little bird feet could carry him. In his beak was the end of a little leather belt tied around a stack of papers that the human couldn't carry because his arms were already full of papers.

"Bob, this SUCKS." The commando sighed heavily.

"It's Jeremiah." An employee corrected him as he walked by.

"I was talking about the bird!"

"So was I."

Krauser stopped, an incredulous look on his face. He simply shook his head and began his journey to the copy room again. He turned a corner and shortly after heard a little voice go, "Help." Turning around, he found Jeremiah had gotten the stack of papers caught on the corner and he couldn't budge them.

"Oh, come on, Bo- Jeremiah. I can't help you. My arms are full enough as it is."

"Help." The little grey parrot repeated, tugging on the belt to get the papers to move.

"Fine!" Krauser went back around the corner and nudged the papers with his foot, dislodging them from the wall. He was rewarded with a cheery, "Good boy!" squealed at him from Jeremiah. "You're welcome, Jeremiah."

"Alex." A different Umbrella employee said as he passed Krauser and the parrot.

"My God, how many names do you have?!" The man looked down at the bird, who cocked his head to the side and asked him, "What?"

As the duo started down the hall again, Krauser wondered when exactly Wesker and Sergei were going to take care of that one higher ranking employee when, speak of the devil, said employee ran around the corner, ripping tape and plastic wrap from his face and screaming like a cowardly little boy. Wesker and Sergei turned the corner and ran by the commando next, tailing the employee. The blond was holding a box of plastic wrap in his hands while the heavily-accented Russian held a roll of tape.

The secretary smiled, knowing that his rightful position up top would soon be presented to him.

If anyone has read Taker-took-my-Toys' fanfic 'Wesker has a Way with,' then I'm sure you know where I got the idea for the leather skirt from. XD

Also, the idea for the African Grey parrot came from my African Grey named Hewie. I'm basing Lollipop/Pablo/Bob/Jeremiah/Alex's speech heavily on Hewie's because I didn't want him to sound like a stereotypical parrot. Ya know, "Brawk! Polly want a cracker! Polly want a cracker! Brawk!"

So, dear readers, please review and stay tuned for the next chapter, where Leon must go on a mission......BY HIMSELF. :O