The week passed almost imperceptibly. Chris and Jill were still in Zurich. Their search was completed and the mission was scheduled for the next day. Although they couldn't be one hundred percent sure, both agreed that this was the ideal variant and they should try to act.

All the days after that night Chris behaved exactly the same as before it. He was a good friend for her and nothing more. No talk about it, no allusions. Chris was sincere. The idea of running away from everything and everyone seemed insanely attractive to him. Now there were just the two of them and it felt so great. And it seemed to suit her too, especially considering how long she had been on the run with Albert Wesker. Why couldn't he replace him? Chris saw how wonderful this life could be: simple and carefree. He no longer wanted to return anything as it was, he wanted to build everything anew. With her around.

By this point, Chris was almost truly believe that Jill was no longer under Wesker's control. He felt it in his gut. It wasn't about this. Wesker saved her. He manipulated her, used her, but she didn't notice it, perceiving his behavior as a manifestation of humanity. Why did he need it? God knows.

Chris wasn't sure how he himself would have behaved in Jill's place if the person he admired, was proud of and looked up to suddenly showed himself from a different, more human side. It is possible that he himself wouldn't have noticed the knife behind his back. Again. Would try to find excuses, to believe in the sincerity of words. Could he blame her for that?

Chris still didn't notice any traces of Wesker's presence on their little journey. There was no surveillance, no calls. Nothing. Maybe it was his tactic to make Jill feel guilty and ashamed, to make her yearn and miss him. Doesn't matter. Wesker's spell was definitely dissipating. Jill was much stronger than he could even imagine. His techniques no longer worked the same as before, he was obviously losing control over her. Wesker might be smart, but he definitely wasn't able to predict that their plans might change. That Chris can so radically change both his and her fate. To hell with past life, to hell with past problems, to hell with past acquaintances, to hell with the BSAA…

Now she had a chance to finally find her happiness. And so does he. Chris wasn't going to push her, or prompt her. He outlined his position to her, painted a picture for her, allowing her to decide for herself what she wants. She would feel it, that her opinion is taken into account, and would certainly appreciate it. She would remember what it is like when your own will is important, when you yourself can be the master of your own destiny, make all decisions on your own, when no one controls you like a puppet. It is unlikely that this self-righteous person allowed her to do this without trying to manipulate.

It seemed to Chris that this was the most right thing to do. More honest. In relation to both of them. They will resolve all the issues when they finish the case. Then he can ask her what she's going to do next. He wanted to be her friend, he wanted her to trust him, and not to feel deception or danger. After all, this is who they have always been to each other, loyal and reliable friends.

Jill was grateful to Chris for this. She was afraid that after that discomfort and awkwardness would return to their relationship, but it seemed that everything was only getting easier, better. They managed to finish their search in a short time, and Jill was already in anticipation of tomorrow's mission. She missed that feeling like hell, their work together.

Since the current task was completed, Chris decided that they could spend some time relaxing at last. While she was in the shower, he folded out the sofa in the shared room, moved it closer to the TV so that the pillows could propped up against the wall and went to the nearest store for snacks. When Chris returned, Jill was already sitting on the sofa and smiling broadly.

"What is this?"

"There you are."

He tossed her a package of snacks and one bottle of beer. Taking a package for himself, he put everything else next to the sofa and climbed up to her.

"Cheese balls?"

"Well, we're in Switzerland, damn it. It's a sin to visit Switzerland and not try the local cheese, even if in this form. I brought chocolate as well." She laughed. "Besides, I would hardly find some of your favorite jerky here."

"Not some jerky, the jerky."

"That's what I'm talking about."

He turned on the TV.

"So what? Are we just going to... lie down and watch TV?" asked Jill, moving closer to him.

"No, Jill. We won't just be watching TV. We will observe and criticize everything we see. Hey, who holds a gun like that? Dude, you would be long dead by now. Does he even count the number of rounds in his gun? Because it looks like he has unlimited."

Jill laughed.

"I like this plan."

Choosing a movie they thought they might like and clinking bottles of beer, Chris and Jill settled themself comfortably on the sofa. It was a great idea. Something from the distant past, so familiar and cozy.

Half of the movie has passed already. Chris was sitting closer to the edge of the sofa, his legs bent and his hands on them. Jill moved to the wall, pressing her back against the pillow. The food has been eaten and the beer has been drunk.

Chris enthusiastically watched the action on the screen, while Jill herself stared at him, studying his features. Tired, aged. Obviously he had been through a lot over the past five years, and that had been partly her fault too. She was ashamed in front of him, sorry for him. But these weren't the main feelings she felt. Gratitude for him always being there for her. So simple, sweet Chris.

Jill pulled herself up from the pillow, straightening, though not completely, and reached for his shoulder. She wanted to hug him in gratitude for everything he did for her. But apparently Chris felt the movement, the years of work made themselves felt, and turned around. Her hand was still outstretched in his direction, and he glanced at it in confused. Jill dropped her arm.

They looked into each other's eyes for a while, he serious and frowning, she with a slight smile on her face. After a few moments, Chris put aside the empty bottle he was playing with and began to crawl towards her. She didn't resist it. He acted cautiously, carefully, as if afraid of frighten her away. Moving closer, Chris brought his face closer to her, studying her face with his eyes. He just stared, so intensely that it was even funny. He was so funny. Jill herself didn't show any initiative, she only slightly raised her left eyebrow, waiting for his actions.

Chris looked at her parted lips, breathing deeply, then his gaze returned to her eyes. He licked his dry lips, and then approached a little more, so that their lips almost touched. She didn't take the first step, didn't even intend to, leaving it to him. But since she wasn't moving away from him, Chris decided to take a chance. His slightly moist lips touched hers and Jill closed her eyes. He pulled away from her, looking into her eyes again, asking for permission, and Jill silently looked in return.

He took it as her agreement. His lips returned to her parted one again, this time he acted much more decisively. His left hand slid to her neck, drawing her closer to him, while with his right he helped himself to maintain balance. Chris no longer contained himself. She was intoxicated by the taste and aromas of cheese, beer and cigarettes, her head was spinning and the sense of reality was losing. She crawled back a little, returning to the pillow and he moved on top of her, settling himself between her legs.

There was no protest on her side, although she didn't try to pull him closer to her. Chris did everything on his own. He acted quickly, sharply and quite rudely, and it seemed to Jill that he finally got what he had been dreaming about for a long time. Tried to unwrap the gift as fast as he can, tear it open and quickly look inside the box, not really enjoying the feeling of anticipation. It seems like he's really been waiting for this for too long.

His lips moved to her collarbone, but the kisses weren't gentle. This harshness turned her on. Probably, he got used to his one-night partners from bars, and now behaved the same way with her. Not that she minded. Chris didn't trying to prolong the moment and wasn't particularly ceremonious. There was no sophistication or grace, there was no desire to please her. He just took what he wanted.

He lifted her over the pillow, taking off her top along with her bra. In the process, he scratched her forehead a little, but didn't even notice it. Then he quickly took off his own T-shirt. Jill was wearing a skirt, which Chris pulled up unceremoniously without wasting too much time. He wasn't bothered about his own trousers. Chris didn't wait for permission, didn't wait for her to get used to the sensations. Everything was happening so precipitously and so abruptly. He didn't look Jill in the eyes, instead Chris pressed his forehead against her shoulder, acting in a rhythm that was convenient for him. She held him with her hands on his back and tightly squeezed his sides with her legs, listening to the sofa creak under them, slightly hitting the wall, and wondered if it would fall apart.

He was panting, puffing and grunting, and Jill didn't know what emotions she was experiencing. The first feeling of excitement evaporated, the desire to satisfy appetence pushed into the background. She couldn't say that everything that was happening was unpleasant for her. But something was wrong. Well, everything was wrong. That was entirely different, not the way she was used to. Chris wasn't a researcher, he didn't study her, didn't try to understand what she likes and what doesn't, what triggers her emotion and what triggers even more stronger emotions, didn't try to combine different approaches. He forgot about her lips or her breasts. He was neither rough and tough, nor gentle and soft. He was just doing what his instinct told him to do.

Jill couldn't see Chris's face, only heard him, and before her eyes was the face of a absolutely different person, with a slight smirk. She saw him so clearly, right above her. His piercing eyes, his sharp cheekbones, his thin but soft lips. Jill wanted to touch them, to pull him to her. She raised her hand a little, but the image dissipated, ending up standing next to the sofa, watching down from the side. The head was slightly tilted. Disappointment with her on his face. He seemed to be asking her if it had been really worth it?

Looking at that disenchanted expression was simply unbearable for her, but she couldn't help but look at him. It caused her almost physical pain and tears risked rolling down from her eyes.

She wanted to throw Chris away from her, but she didn't dare. Hadn't she taken the initiative herself after all, could she break his heart like that right now? But at that moment two sensations were struggling in her: painful pleasure and self-loathing.

Jill squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands were still on his shoulders, completely limp. From time to time she moaned faintly. Jill didn't know if five minutes had passed, or three, or two. But it wasn't long. At some point, Chris just collapsed on top of her, crushing her with his weight. Jill exhaled. Time seemed to stand still. The world was spinning around, her pulse was pounding madly in her ears, and Jill didn't want to open her eyes at all. She just lay under him, feeling herself unsatisfied, miserable and dirty.