Titanium
"The real man smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, and grows brave by reflection."
- Thomas Paine
Silver Lake, Montana - Summer - 2018
Chris left one morning, early, in May. He didn't come back until late June.
For a while, she figured he wasn't coming back.
It was anticlimactic at best. But it was ok. He was known for it. He didn't tell you where he was going. Honestly, who was he accountable to? No one.
She wasn't his woman. Wasn't anything more than his roommate.
He owed her nothing.
She found him gone and was a little shell-shocked. But he didn't leave her alone.
He left Jill Valentine in his place.
Jill.
The former thief.
The playboy bunny with yards of blonde hair.
Jill grinned at her and said, "You and me, RC. What kinda trouble can we get into?"
Lots, seemingly.
Faith was fifteen months old and weaned. Saying goodbye to breastfeeding was so hard. It made Rebecca cry one night after a long day. No more of that special time with just her and her baby.
Jill took one look at her and said, "Nope."
And took her drinking. They went dancing. They went people watching. They danced with cowboys and did karaoke. Jill rebuked a few of them and tried to hook Rebecca up. She declined, politely.
But they had such a good time neither cared.
Jill liked to move like a hurricane. She was fast and brutal. She went from one place to the next without stopping.
They spent a lot of time at the lake swimming.
Jill was an asshole about doing cannonballs and soaking you when you weren't looking. Jill did armpit farts and made dirty jokes. She liked to do Yoga on the porch and make the ranch hands forget about their work.
She flirted with everyone. EVERYONE. And never touched a soul.
She was amazing.
It was impossible to be sad when she was around.
One day, they were down by the lake with Faith, having a picnic and watching the sunset.
Jill was sipping a beer and watching Rebecca while Faith napped on the blanket. Feeling her looking, Rebecca looked up at her, "What?"
"No offense, but are you happy here?"
A good question.
Rebecca shifted a little. "I don't know. I'm not unhappy. I don't mind the ranching side of it. I don't feel any desire to go back to the lab, so that's something. I do enough processing and things from here. I'm not a fighter, Jill. So there's nothing calling me to return to that."
Jill sighed, watching the orange and gold on the water. "What about the call of...nature? Science? Something."
Rebecca laughed, lightly. "I can do all that from here. After Arias and that mess, I mostly work from home anyway. When you have a lab? It has a tendency to get blown up."
Nodding sagely, Jill leaned back on her elbows. She was all tits and ass in her swimsuit. Rebecca wasn't jealous though, they were just different body types.
Of course, she was a huge liar. Because the awkward nerd in her would have killed to look like Jill Valentine.
Rebecca wore a tasteful one piece. A "mom" suit. It was flattering and white and functional on her thin frame. After the nursing, the breasts were starting to shrink back to their pre-baby petiteness. It was...a little sad for her. She mourned the curves. She was almost fairy skinny again. But she'd made her peace with her body years ago.
She wasn't making men drool with her feminine wiles, that was for sure. How in the hell had she ever hooked Leon Kennedy? The question was still a mystery to her.
Jill said, quietly, "I could be happy here."
Curious, Rebecca sipped her water. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I've been entertaining retiring for years now. It started when Chris fucking freaked out after Edonia and went off the deep end. I thought...this is where we go to lose our shit and die right? And then the clocktower happened. And Wesker..." She went quiet, staring off into the horizon.
Carefully, Rebecca broached the subject she'd been wanting to ask forever. "He died in that clocktower...the first time?"
Jill shifted, watching birds nesting in the tree. A pretty spot, for sure, he knew his land. He'd known, what was waiting here for him. He'd never made it back to the land. Or the girl. Or the life he'd wanted.
It wasn't right.
And she said, "He did. I resuscitated him...when I could. He was...fucking destroyed. He lost so much blood. He was nothing but shattered bones and blood. I've never seen anyone, ever...come back from that."
Rebecca felt the well of it in her chest. "But he did."
"Oh, yeah. Like a fucking machine. He lost an eye. They cut his goddamn hair off to fix his brain or whatever..." Jill shifted again, sitting up to scoop her wet hair off her face. Rebecca watched her expression and felt her belly shiver. Jill laughed darkly, "He didn't care. Fuck the hair, he said, and he just...kept on going."
Rebecca offered her the water but Jill waved it away to grab a beer. She popped it and took a long pull. "He rebuilt from nothing. Nothing. Bones and guts and drive. He was fucking beautiful with how hard he pushed. He never stopped. They call Chris the Human Tank right? He is. But so was fucking Leon Kennedy. So was Kennedy."
She was so angry.
Rebecca felt it coming off her in waves. Interested in it, almost academically, she listened quietly to the other woman.
"He kept getting up. He kept going. And what? What?! He hits that roof and the mother fucking viper in a slutty dress puts one in his chest and...that's it?! That's how it ends? That's how it goes down for Leon Kennedy? He just dies...he just DIES. Boom. Done." Jill threw the beer and the birds scattered, squawking with rage. She was vibrating with rage. "Bullshit. Dicks and balls and bullshit. How can that be it? Stupid. Bullshit. Damnit."
Rebecca was quiet for a long moment. Jill was too.
The birds chirped. The sun shined. The water was warm. A good day.
To mourn Leon Kennedy.
And Rebecca said, "You loved him." It was said with awe. Not jealousy. None of that. But awe. Because it was ON her. The way it was on Claire. Not infatuation. Not desperation. Not obsession. Not want even. Love. LOVE. The big L. The real kind.
In what universe did Jill Valentine love Leon Kennedy?
This one.
Where he was dead. Where he was lost. Where he was gone.
Claire spoke of him with that kind of affection that said once, maybe, it might have been more. But it was just love for a man she'd known so well and so completely.
This?
This was different.
Because Jill Valentine mourned him. And Jill Valentine LOVED him. All caps. All truth.
Jill glanced at her face. They held gazes. And there was no hatred here. No jealousy. No anger. Just truth.
Jill said, "I do. Still. I tried not to in the beginning. We were harmless for a long time. Just flirting. He didn't even fucking know anyway. But all that time together. I helped him back. Because he deserved it. Guy like that? All the times he'd taken hits and got back up? He needed a push. I pushed him. He was great...after Wesker. And the captivity. He was great. He just...showed up and trained with me. He talked with me. He was so fucking laid back and funny. And when we were there and he was recovering..."
She trailed off. Rebecca reached over and took her hand, squeezing hard.
Jill finished, quietly, "I didn't poach. I didn't touch. I want you to know that. Not once. Not ever."
"I know that. You don't need to say it. I know that."
"But I couldn't stop it. I never met anyone like him. We just...talked. He just talked and I listened. Two lost souls or something right? His life was a fucking mess. Mine was too. And there we were, in that place together. Stuck together while he, literally, came back from the dead. He was so strong. So virile. So...shit. SHIT." She put her face in her hands and hitched out a breath. She laughed and it was wet. But she didn't weep.
Jill wasn't a crier on a good day.
She channeled the tears into anger.
"Sorry. I'm sitting here mooning over your man. Like a weirdo. Or a groupie. Sorry. Jesus."
Rebecca studied her, smiling softly. "It's ok. I think...I think he just had women loving him all his life. The crazy part? He had no clue. He was utterly blind."
"Chic retarded huh? I know the type." Jill shifted, laughing now, "Speaking of which...look who's decided to grace us with his presence."
He was coming across the grass toward them, the Human Tank. A white t-shirt and swim trunks and flipflops. Him and those flipflops, Rebecca mused, charmingly laid back. He needed a shave and a haircut. And as he moved, she saw the bruises.
They flowered up his neck and over the left side of his face. There appeared to be a burn on his left forearm and a bite? Something on his right calve. Rebecca sighed, shaking her head, "Is he ever not beat to shit?"
Jill laughed, lightly, "The easy answer is no. It's what he does."
Rebecca shifted again, watching him, "Have you seen under the shirt?"
Jill glanced at her face, watching her expression, "Not recently. Why?"
"...just wait." Quiet. Emphatic.
A curious feeling for Rebecca was that she wanted to leap up and run over to hug him. She'd missed him. It was almost a physical ache in her belly. It was curious that talking about Jill loving Leon hadn't done anything but left a sense of bonding. No jealousy.
And yet here she was missing the Human Tank.
Curious.
Jill, sitting beside her, was aware of the grinning. The scientist. Her guy walking toward them. There was a lot of grinning happening on this ranch.
She liked the grinning.
Chris needed love. It was, and had always, been that simple. Whatever had floated around them for years, it was a door left closed for various reasons. It allowed them to be best friends and partners. It kept things safe and comfortable.
But Chris needed something not safe. Not comfortable.
He couldn't do any better, ever, than Rebecca. As long as she wasn't lighting torches for Leon and weeping into her pillow, Jill was thumbs up for it. Chris didn't need to be a stand in for Kennedy. And definitely not a widow's rebound.
It took a good amount of restraint to say nothing. Because she wasn't entirely sure that was what she was seeing here anyway.
Jill hooted as he got closer, "You look like hammered SHIT, Red. What the hell you been doin?"
Shrugging, unconcerned, Chris sat down on their blanket and stole her beer. Jill let him have it, slapping his arm for the effort.
He took a long pull and sighed, flopping down with his feet kicked out and legs relaxed, "Huge mess in the Baltic. You wouldn't believe what kind of cleanup they needed. First, we had to clear the infestation. Which took...like three hundred years. And after? Jesus, mass infection. What a nightmare."
Rebecca reached over and rubbed his arm, no thought, just comfort.
Jill sipped her beer, studying them.
Rebecca said, "Long days huh?"
"You ain't kiddin there, kid. How's my girl?"
The baby? Jill mused. Or the scientist? She put her tongue in her cheek and smirked at the thought.
Rebecca laughed, "She's good. She misses you. I...tried to play the piano for her to settle her down? And sing to her."
Amused, he laughed. She was betting those eyes of his were twinkling behind his sunglasses too. "Hmm. Butcher it, did ya?"
"Possibly. I don't think she enjoyed my off key rendition of Blackbird. Just saying."
"Everybody's a critic."
Rebecca grinned and touched her forehead to his arm. "She missed you. She'll be thrilled you're back."
He rubbed her leg, again, absently. Jill pursed her lips, smirking.
"I shouldn't have taken off like that. I should have said something."
Rebecca waved it away and rose, "No reason. I'm not your mother. I assumed it was an emergency flight."
"It was. I'm still sorry I didn't at least leave you an explanation."
"We managed. No sorries. Just glad you're back. Swim?"
"You bet. Gimme a minute."
Rebecca grinned and ran toward the water. He watched her dive in and bob away like a cork.
Jill, beside him, remarked, "You clever man."
Chris glanced at her, brow raised, "A true statement. But I'll bite. Why am I?"
"Put your noodle to it, Redfield. It'll come to you. Go swim with the lab mouse. I'll watch the kid."
He grinned and fist-bumped her. "Good to see you, Valentine. I've missed your tits."
Jill laughed, slapping his ass as he rose. "Such a sweet talker, Redfield, you silver-tongued devil. As much class as a drunk Kardashian."
Unoffended, Chris shucked his shirt and tossed his sunglasses down. And she saw what Rebecca meant. He was a mess. He'd been scarred as long as she'd known him, par for the course with what they did, but his back and chest were a Jackson Pollack. A mess. What the hell had they done to him?! She kept her face blank.
But the fine rolling rage that existed with the death of Kennedy blended for her guy. Tortured and killed. This is what Albert Wesker did to them. He was still out there.
Still out there.
STILL OUT THERE.
He needed destroying. She knew neither she nor Chris would ever stop until they killed him...or joined Leon in the ground.
Faith stirred on the blanket, coming awake. She rolled her head. She fussed. And then she heard him laughing.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Jill picked her up to sit on her lap. The little girl stuffed her thumb in her mouth and watched her Mama and Chris in the water together. They laughed and swam and fought. It was pretty fucking adorable.
Jill asked, softly, "Who's that, baby girl?"
And Faith popped her thumb out and said, "Mama."
"Mmm-hmm. And?"
But they both knew the answer of course. She said it anyway and made Jill remember what they were fighting for here. Moments like that.
Moments like this.
And Faith said, "Kiss. Dada. Mine."
Jill kissed her soft hair, watching them laugh and swim. "Yeah. I think you're right about all three, honey. You get the Human Tank to love you?"
Faith nodded wisely, "Yes. Wuv. Dada. Mine." She made a kiss noise and giggled.
"You little minx. What chance did he ever really have? Should we get Mama and Dada off this ranch? Whatchu think?"
Faith nodded, giggled again, put her thumb in her mouth, and seemed to know all about it. "Yes. Mama. Dada. Bye-Bye. Mine."
"Them's six words that sound good to me, baby girl. You smart little thing. Between Rebecca and Leon, I figure your IQ will be something like 180. God HELP the man you set your sights on."
Faith sighed, watching them in the water, "Yes...world? Mine."
"God damn, I've never heard anything truer."
He played for her to put her to sleep. Rebecca listened to him in the hallway.
She heard him close the door and move into his room. She heard him beyond the door. He made small hisses and sounds of pain.
Tough guy, he'd never let on all day. She didn't know what it meant that she'd missed him so much.
She didn't know anything but that she was glad he was back. She felt...complete with him here. It was like going through the world with one leg or something when he was gone.
For the first time in weeks, Faith had been a treasure at dinner, at bed time, at bath time. Just all charm and giggles and light.
The little stinker. She was charming the man she loved, clearly. Who could blame her there? He came back and brought the laughter back with him.
Jill was happy. Rebecca was happy. Faith was happy. Chris...seemed happy.
She moved passed Jill's room and paused. The noises beyond the door had her brows lifting. The door was cracked enough that Rebecca was able to see the shadows and the movement.
Her heart sped up like a dirty pervert. But there she was...watching the shadows of Jill Valentine and Ben, the super hot guy from the next spread over, in flagrante delicto. They weren't exactly quiet about it. There was ALOT of noises beyond that door. Jill, clearly, was a moaner.
Rebecca stood there for waaaay longer than she should have. But, in her defense, she was a little tipsy and totally hard up. So, she watched a little, like a creeper. Or a jealous drunk. Maybe both. She could see his back muscles, Jill's pale thighs and legs, and the rutting. The movement of him between her legs. Her hands and her hair all over them like a cloud. It was kinda beautiful in a purely physical way. Like a movie or something.
Rebecca felt her heartbeat speed up with something...something. What was it? Jealousy? It was something.
Ollena dropped something in the kitchen.
Rebecca jumped like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. She pressed a fist to her belly.
She was lonely. It was that simple. She was lonely.
She turned back to her bedroom and paused, a hand on her door.
It was the first time she wasn't lonely for Leon Kennedy. She heard his guitar playing in the other bedroom.
But it wasn't him in there playing.
Chris did that when he couldn't settle or was in pain or both. In this moment? It was both for him.
And, for just a moment, she wanted to take his pain. She wanted to take her own. She wanted to forget it for both of them.
Jill moaned and gasped in her room.
Jill was taking her moment.
Rebecca wanted to take a moment, now, for them both.
His door wasn't locked. She opened it. She went in. He set down the guitar. He was in the moonlight and the twinkling pattern of lights from the bathroom. It spilled a myriad of pretty colors across his scarred skin. It painted him perfectly while the laughter from the Friday night gathering down by the barn swelled up around them.
It felt good here. It felt right.
A moment like this.
He laughed a little, sheepishly, "I'm sorry. I can't settle. Am I keeping you up?"
She shook her head. Her heart was hammering so hard it was in her ears.
He tilted his head, watching her lean on the door so hard the knob was digging into her back, "B? What? You ok?"
She wanted this one moment. Just for her. Just this one moment. That's it. Was it wrong?
She didn't care.
He must have seen something on her face. She didn't know what. She didn't even know if she cared. But the concern on his face flickered to what? Fear? It was something. She didn't like it. She was done worrying about guilt or what was right. She just wanted ONE MOMENT.
He started to roll off his bed to rise and she pushed off the door. He watched her come across the room like a predator.
She kinda was. She didn't care.
He waited, watching her while she tugged his legs to the end of the bed.
He started to say…something.
She put the guitar in his hands. She was shaking. "Play for me. Please?"
And they watched each other in the moonlight. He strummed a few chords and she trembled. She sat down beside him. They both stared at the silver on the floor from the balcony.
A good choice. A right choice. It was better somehow, stronger, deeper - with that rich voice of his. In the low key he sang in, with that rolling folk singer voice of his...it moved her.
She twisted her hands in her lap, she bowed her head, and she looked for her sign.
You shout it out,
But I can't hear a word you say
I'm talking loud, not saying much
I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet
Shoot me down, but I get up
Because he knew, always, what she needed to hear. Somehow.
The little cross around her neck dangled in the light, reflecting.
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium
She tucked her legs up, putting her face against them. He could feel her pain. It echoed. It spilled. It hurt where it hit. Kennedy had given her a ranch, given her a daughter, and stolen her faith. He'd died and taken some part of her with him.
So Chris used his "sword" to give it back to her now. So, she knew, somehow, this isn't where she ended. It was just a place she was made stronger. Invincible. Unbreakable.
Titanium.
Cut me down
But it's you who'll have further to fall
Ghost town and haunted love
Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones
I'm talking loud not saying much
She started shaking. She wept so fully, so completely, full body and full throttle. A good cry, he thought, cathartic. Purging. She had to purge Kennedy to put him away. She had to purge him to bury him and move on.
Stone-heart, machine gun
Firing at the ones who run
Stone heart loves bulletproof glass
I'm bulletproof - nothing to lose
Fire away, Fire away
Richochet-take your aim
Fire away, Fire away
I am titanium
I am titanium
I am titanium
And each time he sang it. Each time he said it. Each time she felt it. She believed it.
He let the chords drift off. He set down the guitar.
She turned and spilled against him, clinging.
The laughter floated up from the barn. She was out of tears. And he was out of time here.
He was so wrong before. He was done here.
Because he didn't just want to fuck her. He was a liar. A liar. And he wouldn't live in her house a liar. She deserved better.
Kennedy deserved better.
He'd stayed too long. The danger signs flashed all around them. It was time to see if she was titanium.
He wasn't. He was just a glass tank after all. If he stayed, he was going to fall in love with her. And there was nothing good there for them if he did. Not here. In Leon's house.
In Leon's shadow.
In Leon's memory.
It was time to let her go and leave Leon Kennedy's life behind.
He left in the middle of the night.
She lay in her bed listening to the big truck fire up. She felt the tremble of her heart in her chest.
In the bedroom door, Jill watched her on the bed. "There's time. Go after him."
Rebecca said nothing, listening to him gather his things. "I won't tie him here. I meant it before. This isn't his place. It's mine."
Jill waited for a long moment, watching her, "Is it? Or is it Leon Kennedy's?"
No answer.
Rebecca rolled from the bed. Jill rubbed her arm. But the scientist shook her head and moved into the bedroom where he was saying goodbye to her daughter. Faith slept peacefully, lulled there by his guitar, his singing...his love.
He stroked her hair, watching her face in the silvery shadows. Rebecca crossed her arms, leaning in the frame.
"Itchy feet?"
He turned to look at her. He was in full gear. He was a tank, alright. He was rolling right over the top of her.
"It's time."
"You came back for one day."
"I did. To say goodbye." He kissed Faith's forehead and she giggled in her sleep. Hard to tell in the moonlight, but he looked misty. "Jill is here. You'll be alright."
"I will. Don't worry. You never promised me anything. You aren't breaking any now. Don't leave here with guilt, Chris. It's ok. We'll be fine."
His hand was bigger than Faith's little head as he stroked her hair and finally turned away. "I'll visit."
"Of course." He wouldn't. They both knew that.
"The ranch hands...they trust you. Jill? She'll whip this place into her hands fast enough. She always talked about ending up on a place like this. She'll stay as long as you need her."
"We'll be fine. Don't worry."
He nodded. He shifted. And he was Chris Redfield again. Not a rancher. Not a father.
A warrior.
It was what he was meant to be.
He paused beside her at the door. "Call if you need anything, B. You know that."
She stayed staring at the baby in the bed. Her belly hurt. Her eyes were burning. "I won't. We both know that."
His jaw clenched as he breathed, just once. "I know. Titanium."
"...am I? I feel like glass."
"I've never met anyone stronger. Ever."
She laughed, wetly, "Liar. You breathe on me now? I'll shatter."
He turned. She turned. A good hug. She slid into his arms against his loaded vest. She clung, shaking. Over her head, Jill stood watching them in her doorway.
They locked eyes. A long look. And the first time he felt like a coward.
In all his life. That look on Jill's face? It said: COWARD.
She shook her head at him and turned into her room, closing the door quietly.
So, that's how it was. Judged for doing the right thing there. What did she think? He'd stay here and love Leon Kennedy's woman, raise his kid, run his ranch...and live in his shadow forever?
He was CHRIS REDFIELD. This wasn't his place.
Even if he wanted it. IT WASN'T HIS PLACE.
Rebecca sniffled. She let him go, "Thank you for everything. I mean it."
"No thanks, B. Ever."
She shook her head, softly, "It's Rebecca. My name? Rebecca. You think if you say it, you'll turn to stone?"
He watched her quietly, "Or maybe you'll see me as a woman and not a charity case. B. Something you call a dog. Or a little sister. I'm not your sister, Chris."
"...I know that."
"Yeah. Do you? It doesn't matter. Don't get yourself killed. I can't bury another legend. I'm all out of bullshit speeches and platitudes. I'm tired of heroes. And lies." She patted his arm, laughing mirthlessly, "I'll miss you. Stay safe."
Lies. What lies?
The ones that said you couldn't begin to love a woman you'd known for twenty years?
The ones that said you couldn't live in another man's world and covet it?
Yeah.
And the ones that said Chris Redfield had to stand alone against the world. That lie? It was the one that kept him: The Human Tank.
She moved down the stairs and into the kitchen. She made a cup of tea. She listened to him load up his truck.
She waited for the sound of diesel rolling down the drive.
So, this is what it was for her. Living on this ranch with her baby with Leon's memory. The memory of a man who'd never really let her in. Living on Leon Kennedy's ranch with the women who'd loved him and known him.
Not her.
She was just the girl who had his baby. The girl who tried to love him and lost him. The girl who'd never had the chance to know him.
God.
She wasn't titanium. She was poison. Everything she touched rotted and died...and left.
She lifted the teacup to her lips. She turned. And he was standing there...like a ghost or something. She startled and dropped it.
It tinkled in a broken mess on the floor.
His arms curled around her. She spilled against him, clinging.
Against her ear, he whispered, "I'll miss you too...Rebecca."
And let her go.
She waited until she heard the truck. She waited until he was gone.
And she put her face in her hands to shatter like glass...and nothing like titanium.
Fall - 2018
They stood on the horizon: the lab mouse and the thief and the former badass biker. Three women united in love for Leon Kennedy...
...And Chris Redfield.
They watched the sunrise together.
Jill said, "You know why he left."
"Do I?"
"You do. Look inside, what do you see?"
"...a mess." Rebecca laughed, wetly, "A mess. Titanium, he called me. I'm not, Jill. That's you. It's Claire. I'm just a scientist who got lucky and didn't die."
Claire tapped her boot, glancing at Jill. They held blue eyes, lips pursed. Claire finally mused, "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. On that rooftop? I laid there while your brother rushed around fighting for me. While Leon..." She trailed off, shaking her head, "They saved me. I always need saved. I'm a coward. I'm a fool. I'm not strong. I'm always looking for a man to save me."
Jill tilted her head, considering her. "Is that what you see, Claire? A coward?"
Claire sipped her beer, speculative, "Nope. I don't see that. I saw it the other day though. It's doing fine, for a big baby. It ran out outta here like it's ass was on fire."
Jill laughed, "Ah. Yes. The squish. A coward at the core. Bravest mother fucker around...until you throw a girl at him with feelings."
Claire nodded, sagely, "Yes. The Leon Kennedy special too, it seems. They are great in a fire fight."
Jill added, "Good in a storm."
"Yep. Awesome against an army of undead."
And Jill returned, "And fucking chickens about love."
"Oh, without a doubt. Leon was the worst."
Jill considered this and added, "Nah. Redfield? That guy wouldn't know love if you slapped him in the face with it. And then? He'd just try to punch it in the face so it would go away."
"Naturally," Claire watched Rebecca, considering her, "You don't need a man, honey. You want one. You like one. You dig their humor and their dicks. You let them love you or lean on you or build something together. You make them a partner and a friend. But you don't need them. You just think you do."
Jill nodded, crossing her long legs, "We're engineered to think we need them. But really? We just want one so we aren't alone."
Claire glanced between them, "Anybody alone at this table?"
Jill grinned, brightly, "I'm not. And we gots us another beautiful girl waiting to join our club. It's Sex in the City up in here now. Who needs men?"
Rebecca laughed and they joined hands around the table. "Easy for you two to say, you've got men waiting on you down there."
Jill laughed, easy going as always, "You mean Ben? He's ass, darlin, not the father of my children. He knows that."
Claire considered the situation, "I like Devon. He's friendly. He's fun. I'll let him be my boyfriend."
Amused, Jill studied her, "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Why not? You seen his ass?"
Jill laughed, brightly. Rebecca giggled a little.
Claire grinned, "It's no Leon Kennedy's ass. But I won't kick it outta bed for fartin."
Rebecca, tongue in cheek, asked sweetly, "How's the fuckin?"
And Claire choked on her beer to hear her little voice say "fuckin". "It's doable. A question."
"Hmm?"
"How was Leon's?"
Jill perked up, interested, "Oh. OH. Share. Please."
Rebecca laughed lightly, happy. She was happy. Here with these women. Friends.
Happy with friends.
"...desperate. And kinda whirlwind."
Claire shivered. Jill sighed, "Like a jackhammer?"
Rebecca laughed again, delighted, "No...like...the perfect storm."
Claire sighed. Jill sighed. Rebecca sighed.
Jill glanced at Claire, put her tongue in her cheek, and replied, "Chris is a jackhammer."
Claire made a barfing face and put her hands over her ears but she was laughing.
Rebecca and Jill held eyes. Jill grinned, bright and eager, "Jackhammer. Just sayin."
Rebecca pursed her lips, eyes twinkling. "Hmm."
"...all night." Jill sipped her beer, droll. "And no strings."
They laughed. Claire remarked, "Ugh. UGH. That's my BROTHER, bitches. My brother. I'm gonna hurl." And then she considered and said, "Although I'm glad he's good at it. I'd hate for him to bring shame to the Redfield name."
Laughing, Rebecca considered, "You have a name amongst the bioterror world...a name amongst the no-strings-attached-sex world...A Redfield: A punch in the face that ends in an orgasm - and nobody expects you to call afterward."
Claire laughed, thrilled. Jill nodded sagely, "Sounds about right."
Rebecca shook her head in amusement, sipping her drink. And Jill glanced at Claire then back at Rebecca and said, "Additionally, RC, there's...the dining. Chris...likes to...go out to eat..."
She squinted, tryting to decide how best to phrase it and not alarm or disgust Claire.
Rebecca lifted her brows. Claire paused with her beer to her mouth. She blinked. And then she shouted, "GROSS JILL! GROSS!"
Jill was heehawing with laughter now.
"GROSS! I can never LOOK AT MY BROTHER AGAIN!"
Rebecca inquired, brows lifted, "What did I miss here?"
And Claire shouted, "This bitch is saying my brother likes to "eat out"!"
Jill couldn't stop laughing. Rebecca felt her face flame. Claire looked half amused, half horrorifed. "OH MY GOD! Am I supposed to have lunch with him now!? He eats a tuna fucking sammich and I'm gonna barf!"
Jill mused, "He did enjoy a nice Jill sammich in his day."
Claire threw beer at her, snorting, "You nasty, hateful woman! I despise you!"
Jill grabbed Rebecca's hand and squeezed, chuckling. "Just saying, RC. JUST SAYIN. He's good at lip service too. When Chris has a conversation with your lips , y-"
Claire shouted with laughter again, "Stop! For all that is holy, STOP! I will never be able to look him in the face again!"
Jill couldn't stop the giggling. Rebecca was thinking about what it would be like to be a Rebecca sammich. Claire looked ill.
The silence spilled around them, the laughter died down, but they all sat there amused and enjoying themselves.
Finally, Rebecca mused, "Leon could speak in like...ten languages."
And Claire laughed loudly, "Now see? THAT!? That just makes me jealous."
And they laughed.
And laughed.
They laughed, happy to objectify men in their circle. Happy to forget about the grief that came with loving them.
And it was ok...for just a little while, it was all ok.