Author's note: The second chapter. Wasn't that fast? Obviously, my term break isn't as exciting as it should be thanks to a big storm.

Jano: I wanted to see these two guys duke it out a long time. I still don't know why though. Thanks for the rev by the way.

Clinton: Thanks. I intentionally made it a little confusing, and a little bloody, so that the people who blindly click at anything remotely resembling a pairing would get turned off real quick. No offense to them of course, I just don't want anyone reviewing that Leon and Claire should get married in the near future.

SniperR: Claire's a little older now. Besides, a lot of girls get pregnant in their late teens. As for who died, well, read on.

Hotaru: You know me. Besides, I can't kill anyone I want, so murdering people on paper sounds like a good alternative to vent.

Chapter 2: "Antagonist"

The stars shone in delight, laughing, murmuring, holding themselves sentinels of higher stature that did not stoop down into petty vindications and murderous rage as lowly humans did. That, at least, was what the commissioner thought of them as he looked up into the night sky. "…"

The wind howled mercilessly, like the prophet of disaster signaling for his arrival. In their case, it already came to pass. He could still remember the body bag getting zipped to a close, and getting carted out the large lawn where he was now, as if the phantoms of the people involved replayed the scene over and over. Three people, one dead body, and one story that was yet to unfold. "This is going to be a long week." He thought to himself, as his eyes met with the C.S.I. working on the case, who just emerged from inside the house. They were both in their winter years, and they both knew enough to depend on each other through the toughest of times. "Anything new?" the commissioner asked, though he himself was still unsure if he still wanted to know. "Nothing from what we've already established before hand." The C.S.I. responded, taking off his cap for a moment to brush back his black hair, then putting it on again.

"Passion?"

"Chris was very…protective of Claire. That's the only lead we have on what could have caused the fight."

"…" The commissioner's eyes trailed the compound, with everything looking so peaceful that no one would have known that someone was dead and another was dying. "Any word from the security?" he then asked, referring to the solitary man who was in charge of letting people through gates, who they found earlier on, knocked unconscious in his panel.

"Nothing much. He woke up a while ago, told us that he saw Leon get out of his car in front of the gate. Now the security guard, of course, knows who Leon is, I mean, who doesn't around here? Next thing he knows, he dials the house number to make sure that Leon had an appointment, then bam! He gets hit on the back of the neck." The C.S.I. explained.

"Then he opens the gate himself, while Chris is busy in his study, not knowing that Leon was coming for him because everything was dead silent." The commissioner shook his head and looked down to the path that curved downward, to where the gate was left open. "Chris had a number of surveillance cameras in here right?" he asked as he began to walk to the house.

"Yes." Responded the C.S.I. as they both began to walk to the interior.

"So we have something that could show us what happened in his study?"

"…No. For some reason, the most recent tape for the camera in his study is missing. So when it all went down, all they had were an empty player and a camera looking, but not recording."

"Can't we dig up anything from that?"

"If we could, then we'd have this case closed already."

"…We can't pull a blanket over the media's eyes for too long. They know something big went down…"

"…And when word comes out that he's dead, some pretty big people are going to be breathing down our necks." The C.S.I. rubbed his temples in fatigue. "Why did it have to be someone famous?" he groaned to himself. "By the way…where's the girl?"

Claire watched the green light turn yellow, then red, all without their car moving farther than six inches. "What the fuck is causing this motherfucking traffic!?" Kevin shouted inside the car, slamming the horn repeatedly. "Yeah, like blowing the horn is going to make all the other cars disappear." Claire coldly remarked, taking out a cigarette from her purse. She already grabbed her lighter when Kevin noticed what she was doing. "Put that thing down." He ordered, glaring at the girl. "…Fucking boy scout." Then complained the girl, putting back the poison in her purse. "You know, at first glance, you'd look like a guy that a girl could really enjoy. Mustang and all." She then taunted, finishing the sentence like a tease more than anything else.

"First glance, huh?" Kevin responded, not entirely in the mood for a verbal spar with the girl.

"Yeah. Then you'd realize how much a muscle car is needed by guys who overcomp-"

"Wanna see my dick?"

"What?" Claire asked, somewhat startled.

"Trust me, my tool is big enough as it is." Kevin kept his eyes on the road, hoping that eye contact would prevent the girl from noticing his touch man act.

"Wow, you really know how to romance a girl."

"…You really need to get to your apartment before you start telling me what you know?"

"You don't want me talking to the media right?"

"…Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Kevin leaned his elbow on the door hands, and rested his head on his fist. It was beginning to rain. Small drops of water that at the very least understood it's reason for being. Most people are not so lucky.

"At least it's you they stuck me with, not that Aya girl." Claire then remarked, breaking Kevin's coveted moment of silence. "…She's a great officer." He responded, his lack of enthusiasm for a conversation was clear in his voice.

"She's jealous of me. I can tell."

"How the hell do you figure that?"

"I can sense it. The way she looked at me." She said smugly, her eyes trailing to the dashboard compartment. "…You have some serious mood swings." Kevin commented, shaking his head.

"Excuse me?" Claire's eyes were still on the compartment, and Kevin didn't notice.

"With Aya, back in the interrogation room, you looked like you were about to have a nervous breakdown. Now with me, you're acting like a complete…"

"Bitch?" She asked, something devious was in her voice, as her eyes then began to search Kevin's body.

"What are you hiding?" he asked again, this time, a lot more serious. The loud ringing of his mobile phone broke off their staring match, and with a soft curse, he grabbed it from his jean pocket. He hated getting calls in the car, since he usually had to wrestle his phone out off his pants between the traffic and the incessant ringing. "Want me to help you with that?" Claire asked, to which Kevin simply ignored her.

"…" Claire then forcefully placed her hand over his inner thigh, obviously catching him off guard. She found the look of surprise in his face a little exciting, and she began to massage the spot. "Let me ask you again…" she purred seductively. "…Do you need help with that?" Their eyes bore into each other, as if Claire wanted to bring out some animalistic drive from the young man beside her. A very loud horn from the Ford behind them suddenly snapped Kevin back to reality, and he immediately pushed Claire's hand off. "Fag." She sighed to herself, with a grin that could easily piss any man off. "Don't fucking lose it." He thought to himself as he slowly pushed the gas, and they were back to slowly inching the car forward in dead silence. "The way he carries himself…he's beginning to remind me of Leon." Claire thought as she bit her lower lip.

She watched him fumble again for his mobile phone, this time, with a successful result. With his eyes switching between the mobile and the road, he then connected to the missed call. "…Yeah, Aya. Sorry about that, driving." Were the first words that came to the receiver. "…Stuck in traffic. No, nothing from her. Don't worry, I can handle this." He continued to talk, making Claire a bit irritated that the attention did not fall squarely on her, as she thought it rightfully should. 'Yeah, yeah, I'll kick your ass, I promise." Kevin joked, with the short moment to talk to his friend an open sigh of relief. At least Claire also found the time for herself, with the six inches between Kevin and her now seemingly light years apart. "…"

Aya turned off her mobile phone, her smile disappearing soon after the silence began to kick in. Turning off the engine of her red Mazda, she stepped out into the cold, warm cup of coffee in hand. The commissioner instantly greeted her with a gesture to come closer, as he could be seen from the lobby, through the open double door of the massive house. "How is he?" was the commissioner's immediate question, just as she was in audible reach. "Still off the far end." She responded, entering the house.

"And Claire? Did she talk to Kevin yet?"

"No. Or at least, he wasn't letting me on to something."

"Damn. When Jill comes back, we'll never hear the end of it."

"Lucky us if she doesn't mow down our entire police force."

"…" The commissioner fell silent, looking as if he was in deep contemplation, but actually just imagining Jill Valentine in her mini.

"…So, did the brainiacs over here conceptualize how exactly he died?"

"Bullets."

"I mean how."

"How about you ask them?"

"…Fine." Taking another sip from her coffee, she buttoned her dark gray coat to a close, still feeling the cold through seep into the lifeless house. The commissioner watched her disappear into the study, unimpressed with the opulence surrounding her. "If I get to save the world, I want a house this big." He mumbled to himself, before following the young detective into the study.

"Where the hell are we?" Claire complained, as they began to wander the empty streets. Dilapidated apartments covered them in shadow, with the only landmark being the massive steel bridge that was overhead. "At least there's no traffic." Kevin muttered, not letting his agitation get the best of him.

"I swear, if you're a serial killer, I am going to kick your ass."

"If I were a serial killer, I wouldn't stand up with being next to you for two hours and just shoot you!" he snapped back, finally letting go of his cool.

"Believe me, I'd rather be dead than be seen with you." She sneered back.

"Oh what, is acting like a high school cheerleader part of your mood swings?"

"You know what?"

"What?" He asked, absolutely out of patience.

"You're cute when you get all mad like this." She teased, raising her eyebrow seductively.

"…" He watched in silence as her hand once again began to trail his thigh.

"We are in the middle of the fucking road." He protested, although this time, a lot less forceful than before.

"No one's watching. Hell, no one else is driving."

"…You know how many kids I had to scrub off the streets in my rookie year because they weren't paying attention to the road?"

"Then pull over for a while." She cooed into his ear. She could smell the sweat that was beginning to form around his face. "…" Kevin tried to ignore, her, keep on driving, try to see if some crazy kid would run across the street in the darkness that surrounded the neighborhood. "Boy scout!" Claire yelled to herself, as she then grabbed his crotch, quickly, and with a hard grip. "Shit!" Kevin cried as he made a quick turn to the left to park the car. "What the hell are you-" But before he could finish, Claire kissed him forcefully, without feeling, only animalistic urge. Her grip on his crotch grew harder, and so did the manhood that was quickly beginning to strain against the denim. It was only when he began to kiss back that Claire retracted her lips, and in a short second of puzzlement on behalf of Kevin, she finally strikes. With a loud cry, she struck him at the neck with her elbow, causing him to choke in pain.

Kevin's eyes blurred as he grasped his throbbing neck, leaning on the steering wheel for support. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he thought, as he heard the dashboard compartment open. He knew what was inside, and from the looks of it, Claire did too. He turned, tried to stop her, but he was met with a barrel of the gun pointing straight at his eye. "Back off." Claire hissed, giving Kevin a glimpse of the woman who survived an onslaught of bloodthirsty zombies practically alone, something that he only accomplished through the help and sacrifice of seven others. "…You don't want to do this Claire. I know you're upset, and maybe you're a little scared…but that's no reason to do what you're planning on doing." He whispered, trying to bring a sense of reason to the girl. With her left hand, Claire reached behind her, fumbling for the lock, then opening the door, all the while, her right hand steadily kept the pistol at headshot.

"Claire…!"

"Goodnight, officer Ryman."

Chapter 2, end.