I know, I know I'm like 3 or 4 days late.

But as you all are pretty busy with the Remake I thought I'd just get away with it!

Here's to you the third and last part of Freaky Friday. A chapter that drained my mental energy SO bad (which is plain evidently by the awful quality of it). I swear the next ones will be written better as they won't be an editing of some pre-existing writing!

Xaori, without you I'd still be crying upon that last dialogue! THANK YOU! (imagine a waterfall of hearts)

Chapter 18 – Freaky Friday (3 of 3)

Part 6 – Veranda and chill

Once the drinking game was over and everyone somehow got their own part of drunkenness, Chris prohibited drinking more lest someone got sick and, therefore, spoiled the party for everyone.

Tequila had sewn smiles, dumb grins and dopey looks on all those young faces. It was now time for healthier activities. Accordingly, they turned the gaming console on and enjoyed some party videogames.

That so versatile living room shifted function for the second time in a row. Now it was a dancing ballroom. Girls and boys promiscuously shook their hips before the screen, trying to collect as many points as possible to the loud 90s disco dance music. Needless to say, it soon turned into a "girls versus boys" competition. The silliest part was when Piers and Moira exchanged parties with an eager shake of the hands.

In the mid time Chris tried to clean all the trash their rumpus had produced. He collected as many lime peelings as he could find and walked to the kitchen to throw them in the trash bin. With much of his happiness he found his sister there, busy in washing a bowl.

"Hey!" he said, approaching from behind. "If you told me you wanted to clean I'd have helped you!"

"Oh… No worries!" she smiled, wiping the water drops off the sink with a dish cloth. "I don't feel like tidying up shit right now."

"Yeah… we're too bombed for the dishwasher." Chris dumbly tittered, rubbing his eyes like a child.

"How drunk are you?" she asked.

"Actually… not that much." he shrugged, pursing a lip. "I'm pretty tipsy. Not like at Carlos's party but not sober either. But, hey! I can still stand on my feet though!" he said, surprisingly keeping a good balance when standing on one foot. "See?"

"Definitely not like at Carlos's!" She agreed.

"What about you?" Chris asked.

"Well, I'm drunk." She stated. "I preferred telling and kissing over drinking, honey, but with the bottle stopping mostly at boys… it's pretty hard to stay sober!"

He grinned without feeling even slightly guilty for being the reason of his sister's drunkenness. Except for Piers, she had always avoided kissing boys that night, and he had loved her attentiveness just as much as he loved her.

"Wanna come outside with me?" Chris asked, tiredly massaging his neck. "I want to smoke." He sighed.

"It depends…" she maliciously smirked.

"On what?"

"Will you try to make me smoke like Leon did?" she joked, certain that his hangover wouldn't let him piss off at such remembrance.

In fact, he heartily laughed out loud and sassed "I'd never do anything like that! Drunk or not." And pulling her closer, he added, slurring a little the words "but I can't promise I won't try to kiss you on the porch like Leon did!"

They closed the backdoor and took a seat on a garden bench nearby the wall. The sky was incredibly sheer and, since it was a new moon night, the stars shone bright despite all the City's light pollution. The air was still pregnant with the dense smell of wet soil and the humid coolness made it only more pungent. As Claire was with only her pyjamas on, Chris went inside just to come back with one of the big fluffy blankets wrapped around his wide shoulders like a superhero cape. Tequila alone couldn't warm them enough. He welcomed her on his lap and cheered as he saw her sit astride on him, face to face, sliding her ankles and calves through the large gap between the seat and the backrest, feet dangling freely. Soon they were enveloped in a big Redfield bundle.

"Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed as he noticed that all his smoke kept blowing towards her, no matter of much he would writhe his neck away from her face. He tried to dissipate the white ruffles of smelly vapour but uselessly.

"Don't worry, it's fine. I've spent so much time with the guys when I was you that now I'm kinda used to the smell!"

"And I'm sorry for that, baby." He whispered, leaning forward to kiss her neck gently. "I know you even had to smoke sometimes."

"Yeah… but I got to fake it." She sighed. "I kept the smoke in my mouth."

"Good idea. I'm glad you didn't get into the bad habit." He replied. "That was one of my biggest fears back then."

"Actually, I don't understand why you guys like it so much!" Claire mumbled. "It smells bad, makes your breath smell bad, makes your fingers smell bad…"

Whilst she talked, Chris looked intensely at her face, so close and so pale in the dim-light of the only distant yellowish lightbulb they had turned on. He caressed her cheek with the same hand that firmly pinched the cigarette and brushed her auburn strands. He took one last drag and put the cigarette out, extinguishing it with his foot.

"Chris!" Claire gushed. "I said it's ok! You didn't have to do that!"

"I didn't resist all those days without smoking when I was you just to ruin your lungs with my shitty passive smoke now!" Chris stated and, nuzzling her cheek with his nose, he purred "and I don't want my breath to stink as I just want to kiss you."

She nipped at her lower lip in need for that low, husky whisper of him had elicited a blaze within her. A clear sign that it was time to stop talking and do what Leon hadn't succeeded to accomplish on that very porch many weeks before.

He pulled her waist closer, stroked her hips and lowered his head to kiss her. Cuddled in the thick woollen cover, they soon began making out, like two sweethearts in the dark, oblivious of the party going on in their own house.

Certainly booze had its share of responsibility but, the hand she slid beneath his waistband and into his boxers was absolutely bold. A tremendously daring move for such a crowded night! Yet, he didn't protest nor she did stop – let alone after having met him already quite hard under her. He relaxed and leaned backwards, resting his head against the wall and pulling her closer until she laid slanted against his torso. The huge bundle assured shelter to their nasty doing – nobody would've ever guessed that below that fluffy roll there was a sassy hand-job going on.

Tequila, longing and weariness had induced them to leave guests and inhibitions indoor and veg out on a bench. The alcoholic torpor was what made Chris unwind completely under his sister's both experienced touch and hickeys on his neck notwithstanding the absolutely risky situation. For them the house might have been either desert or full of gorillas and it'd have made no difference in that moment.

They had got to carve a little moment of quietude in that dazing night. A tiny corner of paradise built on her tender kisses and rhythmed by Chris's calm breathing. His heartbeats were strong but slow, almost in synch with her dull knead, and so they remained even when she pulled him out of his sweatpants and began working him harder and faster. She kept stroking him below herself and, when she wasn't sucking on his neck, she'd simply rest her head on his shoulder and smile every time his stubbled Adam's apple would gulp down before a sigh escaped his lips when she thumbed his tip.

He perched his head on her cheek and quietly hummed his contentment in the dark air. Finally, something on that night was right. It was him and her. It was her strokes and kisses only for him, with nobody around getting in the way. No Jill, no Leon, no stupid empty bottles to fuck with them.

I love you, Claire.

He wanted so bad to spell those words. A bunch of letters never felt rightest.

"This is so perfect, Claire…" he whispered, moaning in need at her quiet hum. "You're so perfect, baby…" I love you.

Her answer was a most appreciated acceleration of her strokes. He took it as an unsaid "I love you, too".

Those three words had clustered in the pit of his stomach and had fast climbed up his chest, pressing against his mouth seeking the deserved freedom and he'd have certainly spelled them in her ear with his most seductive low roar, if only the backdoor didn't creepily screech in the silence. With a start, he turned and glanced a scared look right at…

Ashley?! The fuck?!

Claire immediately stopped her doing but didn't move. She felt her brother's heart start sprinting and she just breathed out a quiet hush. To her, whoever may have stepped into the veranda wasn't a problem. The blanket covered them and, honestly, she didn't give a single fuck about anybody other than her brother. In fact, she didn't even raise her head to glance at the inopportune visitor in order to discover who it was.

Chris didn't move as well. But, unlike her, he was terrified and frozen still. In his head a million danger sirens were howling and flashing in warning red.

It was too late to conceal the ambiguous position they were in. The only solution that would not mean making clear they were two nasty siblings was to… act like nothing was happening, like it was absolutely normal to have a sister to straddle you. Nonchalance is the key of a successful lie. Hopefully the dim-light wouldn't make his unease much evident.

Ashley may haven't been the smartest girl on Earth but still expecting her not to question that unorthodox position would be an insult to the human intelligence as a whole!

In fact, Ashley wondered and blinked in confusion. But, as she didn't find any answers, she lastly shrugged. It was too late and too many shots had been downed to legitimately expect any smarter behaviour from her. Had she been Rebecca instead…

"Hi, guys." Ashley waved, rubbing her arm for the cold air.

"Graham." Chris muttered looking at the dark backyard before him, too afraid to show his leering face at her.

"You're missing the dancing battle!"

"Uhm… yeah…" Chris hummed in his guttural voice.

"C'mon! Even Carlos is twisting like a jerk!" she laughed as she approached them and sat on the bench, absently moving lighter and cigarettes away. "Is Claire ok?" she asked as soon as she noticed that her friend's face was buried in Chris's neck, unmoving.

"Oh, yeah… she's a… she's a bit drunk." Chris answered. "I'm taking care of her."

"I'm aaaliiiiiiive…" Claire groaned against his skin.

"Then come inside! The party ain't over!" Ashley exclaimed. "It's barely midnight!" she added and grasped a fistful of wool and tossed it to shake her friends from that state of idle passivity they had fallen into.

The whole bundle quivered dangerously. The blanket was their only protection and if she uncovered them… Chris's heart shuddered hard below his ribs at such thought. But he took advantage of that swift hustle the girl did to slide his hand from Claire's hips to his dick and placed it back in his pants. He didn't believe it would help conceal his boner, but it was still better than having his penis… en plein air.

"We'll be right back. I just wanted to have a cigarette." Chris said, hoping it'd get him rid of her.

"Oh, I'll stay with you then." She said, leaning closer to Chris and crossing her legs in the floral printed silk of her pyjamas. "I wouldn't mind having a cigarette with you…"

"I didn't know you smoke." Chris bluntly stated.

I know you don't smoke, girl. Just get lost!

"I do… sometimes." She smiled. "Only when in good company." She was now touching his side with her upper body. "Just… I don't have a cigarette with me right now."

Chris cursed himself and all the tobacco industry for having let her get that close and for having talked. Lest the blonde suspected anything, he was forced to offer her a cigarette and take one for himself to keep up appearances. His previous act of kindness towards Claire's health became useless as now she was surrounded by the smell of two cigarettes!

What the boy hadn't considered was that Ashley wanted more than a tobacco supply from him. She started complaining about the cold until Chris and his gallantry felt compelled to allow her under the blanket. With his dick back in his natural garments, maybe he could afford a guest in the bundle!

Ashley literally clung to his thick arm and made it stick to her torso, all smiling and curbing coughs.

Chris rolled his eyes at the awful situation he was in: his sister on his lap and chest, a flirting Ashley on his right side, a cigarette poking out of the blanket bundle, an aching erection in his pants.

He just wanted the blonde to fuck off, so he could fuck the redhaired hard.

He sighed at his bad luck. But this last smoky resignation breath abruptly died halfway in his throat as he flinched badly.

He felt, clear and unmistakable, Claire's hand resuming her rubbing at his dick through his pants.

She can't be doing it with Ashley just few inches away from us! She can't!

She could and she did.

He heard her quietly chuckle on his neck, pinch his skin between her lips-covered teeth and suck it. He had to loudly clear his throat to cover up the wet pop sound her mouth did as she released him.

His sister was a very, very bad, dirty girl. Hadn't she been that drunk, he'd have hardly believed she was basically doing the same mistake as in his car on last Monday! What was on her mind?! Drunk or not, Claire knew that if she kept teasing him that way, he'd not be able to smother his climax.

He swallowed hard and side glanced at the blonde beside him. Ashley utterly ignored that Claire was the girl she wanted so badly to be. Also, she was unaware of being the third wheel in that veranda. Was his sister somehow asserting some sort of dominance over her bitchy friend with that inopportune touch? Maybe his kind-hearted, sympathetic, supportive sister had been turned into a vengeful little bitch by that cheap tequila.

The brainless giggle Claire let out suggested that she was doing what she was doing only because… she was fucking bombed. That's it. No other complex reasoning or theories lurked in her inebriated mind. She was drunk, maybe horny, surely sleepy and she didn't give a fuck about anything but taking care of her favourite dick.

Chris tried to ignore the pervading pleasure and strived to hide his arousal from the blonde. He preferred to focus on his cigarette, inhaling the smoke in greed but he couldn't help his breath from leaping in pleasure when exhaling. She was dragging him over the edge with slow, incredibly slow strokes. He had to do something fast before he'd start to pant. He pinched her butt-cheek but ineffectively. Then again she seemed to even like it! it encouraged her to stroke him harder!

Jesus, Claire! Just stop.

Chris couldn't bear it anymore.

As Claire tilted her head and almost brushed his lips with hers, Chris realized she was getting too turned on and mindless. He wouldn't let her put them in danger once again!

Moving forward, he threw away the cigarette and asked Ashley to adjust the blanket back on his shoulder as he had to bring Claire to the bathroom to help her sober up.

As soon as the all-Redfield bundle had been recomposed, he stood up, with his sister still clinging to him and went back home, reassuring the blonde that they'll be soon joining the rest of the group in the living room.

Ashley walked right behind them through the kitchen and the dining room, and Chris feared she'd have followed them up to the bathroom. Thankfully, the girl soon got drawn away by a screaming Sheva. Good.

He'd have soon been alone with his sister but as he turned the corner to step on the staircase, he was met by the least welcomed sight ever.

The "elders" had returned home from their date and, especially Lily, were pretty shocked by the unexpected and promiscuous outcome of an only girls' sleepover.

Holy shit.

Chris gulped down a gasp as his parents approached, suddenly a religious side he didn't know existed woke up within him as he started begging the heavenly high quarters for an intercession that could save him from the approaching Hell on Earth. Oh, Jesus! Oh, God! Oh, fuck! Oh, Jesus! Fuck-fuck-fuck!

"Is that Claire?!" Robert asked in concern as he spotted the auburn ponytail dangling off his son's shoulder, whilst he glanced at his wife's composed fury over his own shoulder.

Chris was in a cold sweat. If they decided to take his sister off him, then the outcome of the hot secret "massage" would've been revealed, unmasking their nastiness in front of literally everyone they cared about. Chris was cursing himself for having dropped his guard in the riskiest night ever! He wanted to curse Claire too, as not even their parent's voice was enough to stop her teasing, but he couldn't get to do it.

"Yeah, she's sleepy. It's late." He lied, dissimulating his fright.

"Is she drunk?" Lily asked, not prone to buy any bullshit their kids had to sell. "Have you let her get drunk?"

Think fast Redfield! Just say something and rush to the bathroom before you'll get a fucking hell of an orgasm before your parents. His sister was too certain their hideaway was inexpungable to stop teasing him. He reckoned a confession was the fastest way. "She drank just a little Mom. But don't you worry, I'm taking care of her!" Chris hastily replied and eagerly ran upstairs, not at all inclined to wait for an obvious reproach.

Part 7 – Safe Room

"I don't need to sober up, Chris." Claire muttered as they stepped into the bathroom and her brother slammed the door closed.

"Oh, I think you do." He angrily gruffed. "But first you have to take care of what you caused."

Once the privacy of the only safe room in the house assured them a better shelter than the blanket, he shook the cover off their bodies and placed his sister on the floor. She looked up at him with smutty needy eyes and grinned at his evident erection and her ability to get him that hard so effortlessly.

"You said you wanted to give me a blow job, right?" He asked with a throaty voice, recalling what she'd told him in that same place just a few hours before.

She nodded, licking her lips in anticipation, without breaking eye contact and she raised on her knees in a slow, sexy, smooth movement.

"Now you must do it." He growled and grasped his pants and underwear and pulled it all down with one angry move.

As if she hadn't been waiting for anything different, Claire fiercely bucked her head towards his groin, eager to take his bouncing member in her mouth. She kept a steady pace since the beginning, licking and sucking carefully.

She loved when he acted that pissed off at her just as she loved watching him tumble down for her. She didn't have to wait much before he grasped her head and ponytail and started swaying his hips back and forth, matching her rhythm. Shallow breaths becoming raw moans and hot hissings.

"I'm gonna come, baby" He muttered panting harshly and looking down at her, few seconds before climaxing and throbbing in her mouth, almost shouting her name while losing himself in her killer blue eyes.

"Are you still mad at me?" Claire asked after a while, as she got up from the ground, observing her brother pulling his clothes back up.

He smiled and, raising her chin gently with his thumb and forefinger, he kissed her tenderly. "I never was."

A blow job was all it took to suck away his resentment.

She smiled back as she knew that already. "I love it when you play the angry boy..."

"I love your slutty ideas. Even those that get me having my bare dick just a few inches away from that horny of a girl!" He laughed embracing her in a warm hug.

After a while of comfortable silence he hummed, mouth sunk in her perfumed hair whose fragrance had now enriched of a burnt smell. "I'm sorry for that last cigarette baby... I didn't have choice."

"Don't worry, Chris... I breathed only your scent."

Chris drew her to the toilet and grinned slyly as he rose his two fingers before her. Claire smiled and mewled in excitement. She'd have like one of those good powerful fingerfucks of his right then, but unfortunately, her brother had other plans.

"I fear we don't have time for you, baby." Chris stated, with much of her disappointment. "These two are for your throat. You're gonna sober up, you lovely slut!"

Part 8 – Jalousie door, jealousy's sour

Since Chris had confiscated all the little remaining liquor and advanced to turn on the PlayStation and have some fun, Rebecca decided to go to the kitchen and have some water. All the excitement and adrenaline that kiss with Leon had provoked in her and all the tequila she had downed afterwards, it had aroused a burning thirst in her throat. She swayed to the sink, grasped a glass from the upper cabinet and poured herself some fresh water.

Aaaah, what a relief!

She filled her glass once more to deal the finishing blow to her drought and she drank even that second one in greed. Turning, she peered through the bottom glass and discovered she was in good company. Rebecca lowered the image-distorting glass only that little enough to have a better look at whoever had had her same urgency.

She almost choked on her first innocent drink of the night!

"You're a true drunkard, aren't you?" Leon's killer eyes winked.

"Not that you're a teetotaller, though." The she-tiger smirked, gulping down the last sip.

"Touché."

"Want some?" Rebecca offered, waving at the sink.

"Oh, no thanks." Leon refused. His drought needed a whole different thing to be relented than simple fresh water.

"Guess water's not enough alcohol for you." She winked in malice.

"Hey, the drunkard is you not me!" Leon joked.

"Do you ever drink anything normal? You know, like… coffee… fruit juice… tea…" Rebecca teased.

"I do drink juice!" Leon replied. "And I'd like to drink one with you."

His sentence came out pretty cockier than it had sounded in his head, but he didn't flinch. There was something in the feline girl's confident demeanour that made him feel easy enough to approach and dare to make a move on her. Becky had proved herself being a sassy girl, he could allow himself a little sauciness too. Chris would've clapped his hands for sure had he been there.

"You mean like… now?" Rebecca wondered.

"Now, tomorrow, next Sunday… whenever you want, Rebecca." Leon purred, resting a hand onto the near countertop and enticingly smiling at the girl. She was so close he could almost smell her scent, if only the woody odour of the liquid courage she had so abundantly downed hadn't trumped it.

"Oh, tomorrow is good!" Rebecca hastily replied in acceptance and leaned her head even closer to his, until their breaths fused. "But today is better!" She sassed, making the future sober Rebecca so staggered, proud and grateful.

"We can do both then…" Leon whispered, slowly getting lost in the green of her irises, unaware how hard it was even for a drunken Rebecca not to faint before those same killer eyes she'd been dreaming of so much. With an impressive strain she managed to shake herself and her hips to the fridge, seeking some good fruit juice to share with a guy who was growing thirsty albeit not dehydrated.

"We have orange juice aaaaand…" She declared, fathoming the cool shelves. "…more orange juice."

"Ew. Anything without oranges?" He mumbled, taking a chance to get closer to her again.

If the fridge was full of orange juice it was only because of Claire's obnoxious obsession with it and its stupid load of vitamin C. Rebecca, who knew Claire's house as if it was her own, slammed the fridge closed and swayed to the nearby walk-in pantry jalousie door, determined to get a drink with the Handsome Guy. She could bet her head Mrs Redfield had a whole stock of fruit juice packs in there. In fact, she didn't have to search much as she soon spotted bottles in the high rack of as many tastes as she could wish. When she turned to offer Leon some apple juice, she found him standing right behind her inside the pantry, practically less than one inch away from her body.

He ripped a gasp out of her as he took the sheer bottle from her hands and rested it back on the shelf, without breaking eye contact for a single instant. She hadn't drunk enough to bear the impossible stare he addressed her without getting butterflies to twirl in madness in her stomach.

If that whole night was a mere dream, she prayed to never wake up.

Her lungs stopped breathing the exact moment when his fingertips grazed her blushed cheek. Beyond the loud pounding of her own heartbeats flooding her ears, she could hear nothing else. The music, the distant yells, everything had muffled down and kept vanishing as long as his lips kept getting close to hers. At such a rate, their second kiss would've blasted in a heavenly silence.

But it never happened.

He had almost succeeded to brush her tender mouth when the jalousie door abruptly and noisily slammed closed behind them. Music, yells and reality vehemently rolled back along with the blasting noise. Leon startlingly turned to see who had locked them inside the pantry – it so looked like one of Carlos's usual shitty pranks! If it was his hairy friend that screwed his kiss, Carlos had better run this time.

Leon peered through the door crooks. His eyes widened in disbelief as he saw…

Claire!

She was all alone by the sink dancing and humming a song through her nose. Unbeknownst to the two "sweethearts", the girl had walked into the kitchen and closed the door with a heel kick without even question why it was open or if there was anybody inside it – she was too wasted to use her brain that much!

Leon glanced at Rebecca who just shrugged unperturbed.

Exiting the pantry was out of question for both of them. Rebecca didn't want to break that intimate moment she'd got with her dream boy. Leon, instead, deep inside wanted to avoid Claire to see him with a girl – her best friend. At her party. In her house.

He was uncomfortable in such a situation. Following the gorgeous girl inside the pantry had been a cocky move and it surely impressed her but now it simply turned out being a stupid idea. They were trapped in a dead end. It was either keep lurking or get caught. Leon swallowed hard, trying to muster a good excuse to blather out if Claire ever opened that door.

But whatever excuse he might've come up with would've been useless and implausible as Rebecca's dainty fingers trailed up his nape and raked through the short locks of his blond hair, just to pull him down back in her kiss. Rebecca had taken the initiative for the second time in a row as, apparently, the whole universe wanted it so and not the other way round.

A sting of pleasure almost ripped a gasp out of him but her ravaging lips wouldn't let anything escape. Eyes closed, he slumped an arm around her waist and drew her closer, abandoning himself to the moment.

What was outside that room didn't matter in that moment. Claire be damned, he wouldn't give a shit about behaving. Claire herself didn't give shit about his feelings when she bitch-slapped him in the veranda, nor did Chris anytime he forbade him to think about his sister! Was that what Chris wanted? Then he'll please him! He just wouldn't care about Claire, her feelings – that he utterly doubted even existed towards him – and the respect for other people's house!

So they kissed, undisturbed. Not even Chris's voice got to shake them. Not until…

"But I can promise I won't try to kiss you like Leon did."

That sentence, a little slurred, muffled by the music and obviously misheard, had enough disruptive power to freeze the atmosphere inside the pantry. Rebecca's heart ached so badly she immediately broke the kiss.

Leon had tried to kiss Claire.

If Chris had said so... it was a truth. He'd never lie about such a thing, especially if he ignored he was spied on. The liar, the shameless liar was the other Redfield. All the friendly words Claire had spoken in the school's hallway resurfaced in capital letters from the alcoholic sea of feelings Rebecca's mind was.

I-knew-about-his-crush-from-Chris my ass!

With bitterness shadowing her features, she slid her arms off Leon's neck and her look dropped to the ground. It hurt.

Leon, on his side, was hurt too. He disliked how his best friend was making fun of him and how both him and Claire laughed at his "don't-call-it-a-mistake". As if it hadn't been humiliating enough the first time!

As soon as the backdoor closed behind the Redfields siblings, Leon cleared his throat and breathed in to say anything to defuse the unbearable frost that had seized the pantry but words failed him.

"So it's true..." Rebecca scoffed. "You like Claire. Sheva was right."

Leon remained silent again, this time for a running Chris that noisily rolled into the kitchen by the backdoor and ran back outside just a few moments later wrapped in a blanket or so.

Leon cursed mentally. Dammit! He was so close to making out with that girl! The fun part of the night had just begun and it had already been screwed! It seemed to be the story of his life! Anytime he tried to act like who he wasn't to get a girl (or the girl…) the whole cosmos butted in and fucked his plans up. Despite the hangover, he also felt terribly sorry for the hurt look on the girl's face. He had sensed she was pretty into him, and he couldn't just shrug and walk away now. He had to remedy it.

"You know... when I tried to kiss her..." he muttered

"Don't. " Rebecca whispered, breaking the pensive expression that had dressed her face until then. "You don't have to justify yourself. You owe me nothing, Leon."

"I know but... I want you to know the truth." He murmured.

He briefly told her about the kiss on the veranda, and about how he had thought Claire reciprocated his interest when, instead, he had just mistaken her gaze. He emphasized those little details that would've exonerated him to the girl's eyes and overlooked him asking Claire to stay a little alone with him and about how damn lost he was for her. He knew that "lying" to a girl just to make out with her was despicable, but a drunk Leon wouldn't spot the subtle difference between a plain lie and a sugared retelling of an awkward memory. Moreover, Rebecca's two kisses had been too out of this world not to long for more.

For some reason though, he also wanted to make a good impression on her. She seemed so much of a nice girl and she was tremendously pretty. Drunk or not that he was, he'd found her pretty since she had glanced at him for the first time from behind her violet cushion.

Rebecca mistrustfully listened, but a part of her mind was scolding her for wasting such a precious chance! Thus, when she had enough of his explanations of how intensely Claire had been staring at him and how ingenuously he had thought she was asking for being kissed and how gallantly he'd fulfilled her wish, she rolled her eyes and sighed in irritation. At Claire. Her best friend.

Ok, Becca. You talk it out with her tomorrow. Now just fucking kiss him already!

So she did. Just like she'd done in the game, she pulled him down and clashed her lips on him. Both quietly moaned their contentment. She was kissing her crush. He had saved his ass and gotten the pretty girl. Everyone got what they wanted, everyone was happy… right?

Well, only time will tell. For now there was no telling what was really going on in their minds except for fulfilling pleasure.

How good it was - in spite of all the bitterness that had filled the small pantry. It was so good that they didn't even notice Ashley rambling about in the kitchen for a while before she walked out onto the veranda.

When Leon's neck vertebrae begged for some mercy, he dared sliding his hands down Rebecca's butt-cheeks and, chuckling against her lips, he lifted her and sat her on one of the clearest shelves. She clutched her legs around his waist and giggled something about how tall she felt now that she had his eyes at her same level.

The first time, during the game, Leon might have asked her a kiss for convenience and spite, but now he just wished to kiss the night away with her.

A desire that wasn't meant to become true as, a few minutes later, just as Leon had boldly started kneading her breasts, some alarming voices rumbled near and clear. The modern Romeo and Juliet gasped and took their hands off the other immediately.

The Redfields had returned home and, apparently, were arguing right before the pantry door. They could perfectly see them through the crooks in the door. Rebecca grasped Leon's arm and mouthed a "shit! What do we do now?" in despair.

Leon rubbed her hand and waved a finger before his shiny lips, still wet with her saliva. "We'll wait." And hope they don't fucking need a midnight snack!

"Where did we go wrong if our kids are irresponsible enough to turn our house into a clandestine pub?" Lily whined, rubbing her forehead in worry by the kitchen island.

"Honey, don't you think you're overstating it a little too m-"

"They're underage, Robert!" Lily harshly interrupted with such an intransigent tone that made even the two undercover kids shiver in fear.

"C'mon, darling. You've been young too." Her husband shrugged while opening the fridge in search for something fresh – that wasn't his daughter's disgusting orange juice – to elegantly wash away the tedious taste of the two hours long radical-chic theatrical piece his wife had chosen for them. "You know how these things work… you call a friend, who calls a friend who brings-"

"Who brings booze. That's what!" Lily hissed, stealing him words. "I can smell it from here!"

Robert sighed and closed the fridge with the typical Redfield heel kick and unclipped a beer. In his opinion, what his kids had done wasn't that bad. He himself had had way more reckless experiences in his adolescence! He mentally scoffed at an innocent party like that. Hadn't he been that super-certain about his wife's faithfulness, he'd start to doubt those two nice kids were his spawn! C'mon… a dozen kids in an adult-free house and not even a single butt of a joint?! Tsk… losers! Robert scoffed against the beer can, careful not to let any of his desecrating nostalgia shine through though, lest Lily would kick him out of their bedroom later on and force him to sleep on the couch!

"Robert." Lily continued in an earnest tone. "Are you seriously gonna overlook the fact that our kids are drunk?"

"Not at all, my love. We'll have a word with them." He replied resuming his role of responsible parent, and quickly raised his finger to hush her. "Tomorrow. But for now, for tonight, let 'em have fun. They're just kids!"

"Exactly. They are. And Claire's wasted!" Lily protested and scoffed. "Sleepy my ass!"

"You know you turn me on when you talk that dirty..." Robert hoarsely purred, drawing her closer. He'd dodged the couch, now why not trying for the jackpot?

Lily tilted her head away from his attempt of kissing her out of her upset in his vain hope to deviate the conversation and maybe get laid, then again she addressed him a pointed look. But soon her combatant gaze softened and she let out a breath of exasperation. "Honey, Claire's so young..."

"Love, I'm not happy to see my little girl passed out either." Robert murmured, caressing her face. "But she's got Chris looking after her, and I trust my son. He has always taken care of her at his best, even when he was inside her body. You know better than me how hard it was for him to stop smoking..."

Inside the pantry, Rebecca had to push her fist in her own mouth not to gasp in scandal at hearing – eavesdropping – about people being inside other people for the second time on that evening!

"...So if he let her drink tonight, he knew what he did. I'm sure!" Robert stated.

Lily had to nod. Chris had behaved perfectly after the body swap – if one would close an eye on that night when both got drunk at a birthday party.

Robert tightened his embrace around his wife's waist. It was with a flickering voice that he spoke again after a long pause. "Claire's still having her panic attacks. She tries to minimize it but..."

"But we're not blind." Lily nodded, joining her husband in his downcast mumbling.

Robert simply kissed her cheek and kept his mouth on her skin. He frowned in utter worry. Getting drunk is not the best way to cope with literally anything but… maybe his daughter just needs some mindless times.

"You know, honey… Claire confessed me she hoped that giving to Chris his body back would get her rid of panic..." Lily continued. "…but now she fears she'll never heal."

Robert's heart ached. "It's all my fault."

"No, don't..." Lily whispered.

"I should've never brought them into my lab. If I did so, none of it happened and our daughter would be just the happy girl she's always been before… ugh, before she was forced to play her brother's role! I should've been firmer with Umbrella's hotshots."

Lily cradled him in her arms and finally gave her husband the chance to kiss her lips again. "Let's not forget about Chris." She sighed. "He worries me even more than our girl."

In fact, Lily had noticed the tension on her son's gaze in those last days. Paradoxically, it seemed to her that his already compromised serenity had worsened since the shit had been fixed.

"If only I could turn back time, honey…" Robert dejectedly sighed.

The depression in his tone broke her heart. "Well… I'm sure my super genius husband can build a time machine!" Lily purred, trying to cheer her man. "After all he got to pull a people-switcher thing out of nowhere!"

Robert stretched a bashful smile. "C'mon, honey. Let's go to bed."

When Leon and Rebecca were sure the two adults had left, they finally got out of the pantry, speechless and astonished.

"What the hell…?" Leon muttered in disbelief, trying to get any answer from the pensive girl who, instead, seemed pretty focused on mumbling over what she had heard.

"Leon." She stated at some point. "Do you believe in paranormal?"

People, beautiful readers from all around the globe, do not do drugs. Save your lives, save your money. Be like a Redfield. Well, at least… the younger ones.

P.S. I have nothing against orange juice. I just neither like nor dislike it.

P.P.S. Hey fellow incestfield shippers from USA, heard today is National Siblings Day in your Country... so just intend this chapter as gift XD Love your sibling (possibly without risking jail). #humour