Chapter Three:

Rebecca inhaled then exhaled deeply. She glanced at the two expectant faces in front of her and then at Claire who was pretending to busy herself with her stir-fry on the stovetop. She smiled to herself and imagined that Claire was still trying to shake Jill's fantasy from her mind. She actually didn't blame her, as it was, if it were her brother that was being fantasized about, she would probably have been scarred for life as well.
However, Rebecca had been an only child. She had grown up lonely and longing and wishing for peer companionship instead of the constant academic competitions and special lessons that her parents had signed her up for. She had never quite found anyone whom she could share feelings and life's trivial details with. Perhaps that was why she felt compelled to tell such a personal (and potentially embarrassing) daydream with the women in front of her.
"Alright." Rebecca sighed. "But you have to promise you won't laugh."
"Fine." Sherry and Jill replied in unison, their enthusiasm rivaling that of middle school girls at a slumber party.
"And you have to promise you will not tease me about it forever." She added pointedly at Claire.
Claire gave her a smile and shrugged. "Of course, 'Becca. You have my word."
A blank stare was all she could give to Claire's response.
"What? I just told you I wouldn't laugh at you."
"I know. But sometimes you're so sarcastic I don't know when you're actually saying what you mean."
Claire let out a laugh and sighed. "Sorry for living."
Jill looked thoughtful for a moment before a smile broke out over her face. "Wait a minute! Rebecca, you're fantasy isn't about Carlos is it?"
Heat spread all through Rebecca's body as she was caught off guard at the accusation.
"Um…no…" she sputtered, feeling herself blush all over. "No, it's not."
"Really, Rebecca?" Sherry interrupted. "The O-man?"
Despite how flustered she was, Rebecca had to laugh. "The O-man? That's something new."
Sherry shrugged. "Sexy men deserve a sexy nickname, right?"
"I'm not sure about that but…okay, fine. Yes, I do fantasize about Carlos."
Then, in complete violation of the covenant they had made, all three of her companions broke into raucous, unbridled laughter.
Rebecca's forehead creased and a frown darkened her usually cheery visage. "You guys…are bitches." She said matter-of-factly.
"We're sorry, Rebecca." Sherry said, trying to suppress her giggles. "We're laughing with you, trust me."
"I wasn't laughing, in case you didn't notice." She said, but her lips fought valiantly not to turn upwards.

The train sped quickly along the tracks, all scenery outside swirling together until it reminded one vaguely of a Monet masterpiece. Rebecca sat in one of the seats, alternating her gaze between the wilderness outside and the mystery novel in her hands. Unable to decide which one was giving her the bigger headache, she set the book down and closed her eyes against the motion sickness that started to churn in the pit of her stomach.
She twisted and turned for a couple of minutes before she let out an anguished sigh and held her head in her hands.
"Try looking at something far away." An accented voice spoke up from beside her.
Rebecca glanced up and saw the sexiest man standing, towering above her. His smile was more of a sensuous smirk and something dangerous danced behind his eyes.
"Thank you." She replied, grateful that she didn't stammer nervously. "I'll…I'll give it a try."
He lingered about for a few moments longer and Rebecca did not know whether he was waiting for her to try out his remedy or actually wanted to say more to her. Finally, he leaned over her and asked, "May I sit here." He gestured to the empty seat next to her.
Rebecca smiled and nodded, not bothering to add that even if there were someone occupying the seat she would have removed him or her immediately. He squeezed into the seat, his muscled frame taking up most of the space and looked at her again. Her stomach leapt up into her chest. No one had ever looked at her the way he was looking at her.
"What is your name?" he asked her. Rebecca froze.
"R-Rebecca." She replied, annoyed that the feared sputter now betrayed her voice.
"Ah, beautiful senorita." He complimented. "I am Carlos."
God help her, it was like being hit on by Antonio Banderas.

"Someone's been watching The Mask of Zorro again." Claire muttered.
"Shut up, Claire." Sherry and Jill snapped and then turned back to Rebecca, completely enthralled.
"I love Antonio Banderas." Sherry said. "But if you end up like Catherine Zeta-Jones after the swordfight, I'm just going to kill you."
As if she hadn't been interrupted, Rebecca continued.

If her tongue hadn't been cemented to the roof of her mouth, she might have let out a deranged half-giggle, half-guffaw.
Carlos seemed unaware of her nervousness, if he was then he didn't let on. He asked her questions, his voice completely sexy and honey-coated the more he went on.
"You are traveling far from home, yes?" he asked.
Rebecca nodded.
A roguish grin spread over his lips. "Business…or pleasure?"
"Yes." She said mindless, then shook her head. "I mean…neither…I'm just… I mean…I have to go the restroom. Excuse me."
She climbed out of her seat and maneuvered around Carlos trying not to wonder if he was looking at her butt or wanting him to be looking at it. She made her way feeling almost as if she were drunk (and probably looking like it too) to the restroom at the end of the train's compartment. Shutting herself inside she sat down hard on the closed toilet seat and breathed heavily. Her heart pounded wildly and she felt a strange sensation between her legs.
A few minutes past by with her just sitting, vainly trying to calm down. 'Relax,' she told herself and stood up. She held herself against the wall and ran cold water from the faucet to her face. The door suddenly opened and Rebecca realized in a panic that she had neglected to lock it.
"I am sorry." Carlos said, not sounding as if her were sorry at all. He wore an expression of mingled disappointment and confusion. As if he expected her to already be undressed for him. "You were just taking a while and I was wondering if you were alright."
"Well, I…I was just about to come out." Rebecca said lamely, and then stiffened as she felt Carlos's hand caressing her waist.
Rendered speechless, she felt Carlos moving closer to her, his lips ten inches, five inches…one inch…and then contact. A groan escaped her as he pressed against her body causing the pressure down below to increase. Forgetting the fact that this man was virtually a stranger (as the fantasy made him to be), Rebecca responded to every wet kiss or heated grope. However putty-minded she had been before, that trait was lost now. Though she had always been inexperienced she knew where to move and what to do.
Her mind went blank, as a high I.Q. was not likely to instruct her that now was the right time to tilt her pelvis upward so Carlos had easier access to her jeans. Nor would it tell her to kiss his forehead and simultaneously grip strands of his sleek hair in her hands while he concentrated on freeing her from the constraints of faded taut denim. He forced them down to her ankles and Rebecca struggled to kick her shoes off.
Barely waiting for her to complete the task, Carlos threw her jeans aside and greedily kissed and sucked her neck. She thought she knew when to expect him inside her but he gave no telltale sign or warning. He entered her without waiting for introduction or permission and immediately set the rhythm he expected her to follow.
The intensity rose quickly and Rebecca lost herself. The last thing she could recall was her heated bottom thumping against the cool porcelain sink, her left leg propped on the tank of the toilet and her other wrapped around Carlos's hips.

Rebecca smiled impishly as she looked around at everyone. Claire was looking surprised, as if she did not expect this from the medical school prodigy. Jill and Sherry were both staring wide-eyed at her, their expressions vacant, their minds far and away.
"Well…the end." She said with a shrug.
"Wow." Sherry said breathlessly. "Where did you come up with that?"
"Years of suppressed imagination and frustration." Rebecca replied lazily as she set herself back against the couch.
Claire laughed and took another sip of water. "As an English major I have to tell you I loved all the symbolism with the train and all. Any dark, dank tunnels you encounter?"
"Oh, several, at least three." Rebecca told her.
As if his entrance were timed, the back door opened and Carlos (the O-man) came in.
"Hey, Carlos." Rebecca's companions greeted him in a cheery, singsong voice. It couldn't have been more obvious if they had simply told him flat out, 'We were just talking about you!'
"Hello ladies." Carlos said but didn't say more. He looked around the kitchen and then said, "Do you know where the other meat Chris wanted to grill is?"
"Right there." Jill said meaningfully, pointing to the counter.
"Thank you," he said, picking up the bowl and heading out. "Chris has stopped his silent treatment and is now giving me the supreme honour of kissing his ass."
"And what's Leon doing?" Claire asked.
"He gets to clean out Chris's AK-47." Carlos replied grumpily, pronouncing Chris's AK-47 as if it were the title of a children's book he were about to read to a group of eager first graders.
"Oh, poor you."
"Well, see you ladies," Carlos said as he opened the door.
"Hey, Carlos," Claire called.
"Yes?" He asked, peeking back in.
"Stay out of train tunnels." She advised while the room filled with the tension of suppressed laughter.
"Right." He said, a look on his face that depicted he thought that the younger Redfield was just as quirky as the elder.
Rebecca flushed slightly but shook it off. "Alright, Claire, you're so smart and cocky—"
"Really? I had thought you would say that to Carlos." She replied lightly.
"Whatever. So what do you fantasize about?"
Claire froze and looked out the window. Cruel irony would have it that she had a clear view past Chris and Carlos to Leon.