Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil, Capcom, or any of the used characters.

Author's Note: Sorry if the previous chapter felt a bit rushed going into Wesker being alive within the chapter of finding out he's dead but this story isn't about Chris obsessing over Wesker being alive so there was no point in dwelling on Chris too much. So here we go, Chapter 2!

.:Chapter 2:.

It's Later Than You Think

"Then what are you here for?" Chris demanded, taking several steps back and absentmindedly grabbing at the towel around his waist to keep it secured.

"Isn't it obvious?" Wesker asked, his eyes dipping to the deep imprinted bruise of his hand print on Chris's chest.

"I'm not going to sleep with you-"

"I'm not here for that either," Wesker chided before waltzing past the brunet took this as a chance to grab for his gun.

"Dress quickly-" he began before being forced to teleport just before a shot rang out in the small room. Wesker reappeared a few inches away and chuckled, examining the bullet now embedded in the wall. "Now, now, Chris. I told you I'm not here for-"

"You almost killed us!" Chris shouted, the gun still raised despite knowing very well that a simple handgun would be rather useless in the situation.

"If I had wanted you dead, you would be," Wesker said before turning on his heel and continuing down the stairs.

Chris easily could have taken more shots but decided against wasting the bullets. Instead, he did as he was told, considering the towel around his waist was beginning to sag a little too much for his liking. With a last look over his shoulder towards the doorway, he quickly shed the towel and replaced it with a pair of briefs and pants.

The brunet didn't bother with a shirt as he walked towards his window that overlooked the living room and found Wesker sitting on the couch with his legs crossed. His jacket was tossed over the armrest to his left and he was silently staring towards the window.

With the gun in hand, Chris exited his room, standing at the top of the stairs with his eyes on the blond who stood and turned to look at him. Wesker was smirking but Chris remained unamused as he slowly made his way down the stairs.

"What the hell do you want?" Chris growled at the blond, stopping just in front of the stairs to keep a distance between them.

"I simply wish to speak with you, Chris, and you certainly won't be needing that," the blond stated, referring to the gun in Chris's right hand.

"You almost killed us!" Chris repeated loudly.

Barely a second went by before Chris's back collided with the stairs painfully causing him to cry out towards the blond hovering above him. Wesker's right hand was gripped around Chris's neck while the left was keeping Chris's right hand at bay by holding it tightly at the wrist. Wesker had leaned completely on Chris, both knees on either side of the brunet resting on the stairs while his body sat on Chris's stomach. This, unfortunately, causing great discomfort in Chris's back that was now being pressed against the stairs while Wesker simultaneously choked him.

"I'm not here to kill you. Drop the gun, Christopher," Wesker said clearly.

"How... Do... I-" Chris struggled out, his face now reddening from the lack of air.

"Drop the gun and I will release you," Wesker stated, loosening his grip on Chris's neck ever so slightly.

The brunet thought about it for a long moment, silently gasping for air before finally letting the gun drop from his fingers. Wesker immediately released him, grabbing the gun, removing the bullets, and throwing them across the room as he walked back toward the couch. Chris struggled to stand as air was suddenly flowing through him. His hand went to his throat, touching it gently just as he did with the bruise on his chest that was still currently visible.

"You've yet to tell me why you're here," Chris said as he contemplated going to the kitchen for a glass of water to rid his throat of the soreness now lingering.

"I have, you are simply unable to listen. I wish to speak with you."

"About what? What could be so damn important that you would show up at my apartment weeks after faking your death?" Chris asked as Wesker tossed the unloaded gun across the room.

"You seem to misunderstand," Wesker muttered with a smirk as he sat himself on the couch.

"Considering I've done nothing but question you since you've gotten here, I think misunderstanding is an understatement," Chris growled as he slowly made his way across the room, stopping when he was a few feet from the couch.

"I'm simply here to speak with you or have you already forgotten our little arrangement?"

Chris quite literally froze in his place, his eyes on Wesker who was now looking at him. Chris wanted to scoff or walking away or, hell, even kick the bastard out but he didn't. The brunet just stood and stared at the blond who surprised him beyond words.

"Let's forget, for a minute, that you didn't try to kill me or Jill-" Chris began as he walked in front of Wesker, practically pacing in front of the table that separated them. "-Have you forgotten that we slept together or the fact that you're completely insane?"

"It's rather interesting that I've tried killing you before and that certainly didn't stop us from speaking nor did it stop the sexual relations that followed," Wesker spoke simply as he sat back comfortably on the couch.

"It was once and I don't plan on making either mistake again."

"It's unfortunate you consider it a mistake," Wesker commented absentmindedly, the glasses over his eyes hiding any sort of emotion that Chris could possibly read from the blond.

Staring transfixed at Wesker certainly was not something Chris was accustom to but he found himself doing it often enough that he sincerely could not bring himself to care that his mouth was draped ever so slightly open or that he wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was staring directly at Wesker. Chris sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned on his heel and began towards his window, finding it a bit easier to deal with Wesker if he couldn't see him.

"You don't?" Chris asked after a long quiet moment of his eyes scanning the lower streets of London.

"Of course not. You believe I would do something like this without being fully aware that I wanted it to happen?"

"Either that or you were trying to get my guard down," Chris muttered, his eyes falling on the various buildings around them and the B.S.A.A building that was so close that he could see it from a few streets away.

"Chris, I believe I know you well enough to assume that something as simple as sex wouldn't break you," Wesker responded, his eyes remaining on Chris who absolutely refused to turn around.

"It could just be some sort of mind game you're playing-"

"Why would I waste time on such nonsense?" Wesker asked almost exasperatingly.

"Because, you're you!" Chris shouted, turning around to look at the smirking blond. "Why did you fake your death only to show me that you're still alive? Why did you sit and talk to me every single fucking day for no reason without making a single move? Why did you fuck me then try to kill me a week later? Because you are Albert Wesker. You play your mind games and when people don't want to play, you make them just like you're doing now."

"Very well. Before I leave-" Wesker began. The blond uncrossed his legs and stood, walking around the couch to where Chris stood, apprehensive of Wesker suddenly coming towards him. "-Perhaps it would be in your best interest to consider the fact that I didn't kill you or Jill. I hurt you considerably, yes, but how would it have looked if I simply let the two of you go? And perhaps you should consider the many reasons that I possibly could possess for not returning during the three day period between when we had sex and I faked my death." Wesker suggested after stopping in front of Chris who looked rather confused and angry but wasn't speaking. "Lastly, perhaps you should consider why you are the only one who is aware of my current whereabouts and why I haven't killed you for simply knowing such crucial information when I easily could."

"If I die, the B.S.A.A will not stop until they kill you. That's the only reason-"

"I believe you're mistaken, Christopher. The reason you have yet to call the B.S.A.A falls upon your fear of what will happen to your precious coworkers if they come in contact with me. I don't fear them and you are well aware of that. You're alive because I didn't kill you. It wasn't in my interest to bruise you so considerably, however," Wesker stated as he lowered his glasses to peer over them only to gaze rather intensely at the mark still visible on Chris's upper torso.

"Is that suppose to be some sort of apology?" Chris asked in disbelief as he stepped back from Wesker as the blond was a little too close for comfort.

Chris was now almost against the wall, his back close enough to feel the cold radiating from the wall. Light was now entering through the windows and the bright reflections could be seen on the floor around them. Dust particles could be seen in the streams of light, raining down in flurries of unorganized madness around them though Chris was far from focused on them. Instead, his eyes lingered on Wesker as he chuckled and shook his head.

"If you must, take it as one but you were the one who came bursting in while I was in the middle of a mission," Wesker stated as he slid his glasses back up to his eyes, successfully hiding the cold red cat eyes that Chris could feel piercing through him.

"You had a mission to kill a defenseless old man. I'm not exactly surprised, Wesker," Chris muttered.

"Defenseless? Now, Chris, you can't possibly believe he was defenseless. He worked for Umbrella, after all."

"Defenseless wasn't a very good choice of words, I admit," Chris shrugged. "Are you going to leave or not?"

"I suppose. Perhaps we can have one of our talks later," Wesker suggested with a smirk.

The blond grabbed his jacket from the couch, slipping it on with his back to Chris. The brunet took this opportunity to slip towards the door, the entry now open and ready for Wesker to leave through it by the time the blond had turned around. Another smirk from the blond before he began towards Chris and the door, stepping up to it as if the doorway was an enemy of some type.

"If you insist," Chris stated as an overdue response to Wesker's previous statement.

Wesker's smirk remained as he continued walking but just as he passed over the doorway, he stopped and spun on his heel, Chris looking at him in shock considering he was following him with the door and he was unable to close it farther than a quarter with the blond in the way.

"Before I leave-"

Wesker had turned so suddenly that Chris honestly didn't even know what happened until he had the door pressing dangerously hard into his torso. The doorknob was pressing into his abdomen while the rest had him pinned against the wall. Half a second later, the door was slamming into the doorframe and Chris's body was pressed against Wesker's. The blonde's lips were connected with Chris's and his mind was reeling from all that was happening.

Chris didn't even realize he was kissing back until a tongue was suddenly playing with his and he realized just how stupid he was being. Unfortunately, he simply could not bring himself to care as Wesker's lips pulled from his and began trailing bites down his jawline. Chris realized his hands were tangled up in Wesker's leather coat, pulling the coat by both sides so the blonde could be pressed against him. When Wesker's teeth found Chris's neck, the brunet could feel a smirk on Wesker's lips but caring was long gone. The blonde pulled his lips from Chris's neck, his lips now hovering just above Chris's left ear, hot air lingering and colliding with the cold air that was touching the wet parts of his neck and jaw.

"Perhaps you should enjoy yourself more often, Chris," Wesker whispered darkly.

Despite Chris's grasp on Wesker's coat, the blonde vanished, reappearing inches away with his hand on the doorknob. The smirk remained as he calmly opened the door and slipped out, closing it behind him and leaving Chris to sit in absolute shock.

It took a few long moments for Chris to fully register Wesker's words but the entire time, his eyes were glued to the door as if expecting Wesker to come back. Once the blonde's words registered in Chris's mind and he realized his enemy wasn't coming back, he shook his head and pushed off the wall, the cold air suddenly hitting his back making him shiver.

"Fuck..." Chris whispered as he eyed the door again.

With another shake of his head, Chris retrieved his gun from the corner, picking up the clip that had separated from it as well. He reloaded the gun and tossed the weapon onto the coffee table before dropping listlessly on the couch.

A sudden ringing caught his attention and he realized his phone was going off in his bedroom. Chris stood and rounded the couch before tackling the steps two at a time. Entering his bedroom, he was far from sure where his phone was but he found it on the floor beside the bed within a few seconds from the mere loud, obnoxious sound it was emitting.

"Hello?" he answered. Chris's gaze fell on his living room as he turned and walked towards his window. The entire room was in his view when Jill answered, exasperated and talking over a loud chattering background.

"Chris, I need you to come in. We aren't sure but we may need you. We've tracked Raynard Fisher down and we're working on getting information from one of the Western African branches. Depending on the information we get, we may need to dispatch you immediately."

"On my way," Chris said before hanging up.

Chris immediately pocketed his phone and turned on his heel. He rushed towards his closet and pulled out one of his work shirts, slipping it over his head in a single swoop before hurrying into his living room.

The brunet was all too aware of Jill's intentions when it came to whether or not she was going to accompany him to Africa when it was his time. Jill's work at the B.S.A.A seemed to be piling up and, according to Jill, there was no possible way she could leave. They already had a partner lined up from one of the African divisions of the B.S.A.A but it just was not the same. Chris didn't want to admit it but he couldn't help himself from thinking badly of Jill. Fighting B. and the now very active black market became Chris's goal when he joined the organization.

Chris assumed Jill had the same ambitions but now...

Shaking the thought from his head, Chris exited his flat, making sure to lock the door before making his way down the hall and into the elevator. The lift took him into the basement level and he quickly found his car.

It was difficult to think that Jill may not feel as strongly about something this serious as he did considering she was there when everything started. She followed him through it all and just recently began leaving his side for work related things that she never even informed Chris about. Maybe Chris was becoming too obsessed?

No, he couldn't allow himself to think like that. He was doing his job, protecting not only countries and villages but, inevitably, the world.

Sometimes, he thought maybe he was over-exaggerating but the moment he began contemplating all the B.O.W related missions he'd been on, it became obvious that over-exaggerating was not even possible. They were able to shut down Umbrella, that alone saved them from future outbreaks and they were barely covering it as it was.

Chris didn't think about it often but B. were not the only thing threatening the planet.

So yes, the B.S.A.A were quite busy in the end but he felt, rather strongly, that Jill should be more emotionally involved... like he was.

Every time he came face to face with Wesker, he was angry. Every B.O.W outbreak, every maniac who believed in Umbrella, every time Jill simply brushed him off as if his mere experience wasn't worth the time to sit and listen to him; it reminded him of the nightmare they lived through in Raccoon City all those years ago.

All the people who died that night and the days that followed as Raccoon City itself was slowly taken over by the horrors that were unleashed that day; Jill was there; she had to run through the city fighting off residents and people she knew. How could she not be emotionally involved?

Chris didn't have much more time to dwell on his emotions considering he was rushing into the B.S.A.A building. He passed by the receptionist who didn't even look up as he rushed by. The entire lobby was empty, the white couches in the corner looking rather abandoned considering even the normal english magazines that sat on the side tables were nowhere to be seen. Chris hurriedly hit the button for the elevator, his anxiously tapping footsteps echoing through the large room. His eyes scanned the room as the faint ding after ding of the elevator behind him informed him that the elevator was on its way.

His gaze fell on the large B.S.A.A logo on the floor between the windowed double doors and the receptionists desk. The giant logo was also copied on the wall behind the desk, the large sign glowing blue, and the logo could even be seen on the floor of the lift as it finally opened and Chris was able to step inside.

"Ninth floor," the receptionist called.

"Thanks," Chris said but hit the eighth floor instead; his floor.

The brunette's phone caught him off guard and he quickly answered it, his eye on the floor numbers as he quickly passed by each floor.

"Chris, where are you?"

"Jill, I'm in the building. I need to stop and get my headset then I'll be right up."

"Don't bother. I need you here," Jill said hastily before ending the call.

Chris growled and shoved his phone into his pocket, quickly changing the floor and causing it to make a momentary stop right before it hit the ninth floor. Eventually, it opened on the right floor and he exited into a largely occupied room. Computers lined the walls at all sides, even some lined the middle of the room but each computer had the B.S.A.A symbol planted on the back. Jill was standing in the middle, shouting out orders and giving directions to whoever she was speaking to in her earpiece.

"Chris, finally! I need you to get on the computers and help over-ride whatever signal is stopping us from contacting Fisher," Jill said, rushing up to him.

"Jill, I don't specialize in that. How do you expect me to be useful if you aren't deploying me?" Chris asked though Jill cut him off mid question as she told the person on the other line of her bluetooth to hold on.

"Chris, you can do more than shoot a gun. You've been through the training-"

"I was in the research training! I don't know how to hack computers from a different network!"

"When you two stop bickering, I think we got through," called one of the agents who was typing hastily away at the computer in front of her.

"Thank God," Jill muttered, turning on her heel and rushing towards the big screen in the middle that was now showing the screen the unknown agent was working on.

"The network that was blocking out the connection is completely untraceable but-"

"I don't care just get me Reynard Fisher," Jill commanded as Chris joined her side.

"Roger that," the agent muttered before visibly blocking the unknown network and reconnecting the call.

"Fisher," the man answered in a clear accent, his vocal patterns appearing on the screen in green wavelengths.

"Reynard, we were able to stop the network that was interfering but we don't know for how long. I need your intel now!" Jill said into her earpiece.

"Villagers are dying, some disappearing completely. I've personally seen no use of the B. but black market deals are happening in Africa. I even have word of some company-"

"What's the name?!" Chris shouted, wishing terribly that he had ignored Jill's command and gotten his own earpiece from his desk.

"I do not know," Reynard said quickly, his accent lacing his words. "I have no proof of this happening and there was simply word of it. I suggest you send a team."

"I'm on it," Chris said quickly, turning and making his way to the lift.

"Chris! I'm not sending you," Jill said sternly. "Thank you, Mr. Fisher. I'll send you the data for the dispatched team as soon as I-"

"I'm going, Jill," Chris stated matter-of-factly as he pressed the button and the lift opened.

"-can." Jill hung up and quickly ran towards the lift, stopping the doors from closing by sticking out her hand. "I'm not sending you yet. I'm sending a team that's in the area and when they report in, I'll send you."

"You're telling me to just sit around and wait while whole villages are wiped out? You heard him, Jill! He said there was a company involved!"

"Chris, he said there may be one and even if there is, Umbrella is gone!" They were both now shouting and the entire room had gone deathly quiet as all the agents had their attention focused on the two bickering.

"It doesn't mean some other freak isn't going to come along and try to take over! Hell, we don't even know if Wesker is even-"

"YES WE DO!" Jill's voice rose a little higher than her normal yelling and commanding voice. Chris stared at her, his jaw clenching dangerously as the female continued. "Albert Wesker is dead. Umbrella is dead. S.T.A.R.S is dead. We can't do anything about any of that anymore. You need to stop getting emotionally involved in these missions, Chris, because you will end up getting yourself killed," Jill whispered the last part knowing all the eyes that were placed on her back now that she had raised her voice so dramatically.

"At least I'm trying," Chris hissed, stepping forward so Jill could hear him clearly.

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"You stopped caring at Spencer's Mansion. You stopped caring when you watched Wesker fall out that window and you stopped caring when you thought the major threat that loomed over us for so long was gone. We are never safe!" Chris was raising his voice again, now speaking to the room as well as Jill. "We work protecting not only the United States but the world and as agents, we are never safe. There will always be a threat and there will always be emotions involved!" Chris eyed Jill dangerously, stepping forward again so that she could hear him whisper, "and when you realize that, maybe you'll become less of a boss and more of the Jill Valentine I remember from S.T.A.R.S."

With that, Chris pounded his palm against the button that forced the doors to close and Jill stepped out just as they closed. Chris leaned backwards, his back resting on the cold metal of the lift as the entire elevator jolted and he began moving down.

Emotions were raging through him and he could not tell if he was angry, incredibly hurt, or something completely different.

His answer didn't even arise until he found himself back at his flat. It was a bit later than he expected considering he drove around the city for a few hours trying to think of what to do. Eventually, he ended back at his apartment and upon inserting the key, he found himself sighing heavily.

It was unlocked.

He pushed the door open, his keys dropping into a small dish beside the door where they are suppose to go (though he rarely used it). Through the dark orange-yellow streams of light that were gleaming from the window, Wesker's figure stood in front of them. The blonde's back was to Chris and the simple shift in Wesker's poise told Chris he was well aware of the brunette's presence. Wesker's gloved right hand was hooked around his left wrist behind his back and they slowly unhooked as he turned, his coat swinging stylishly behind him.

"I didn't expect you to return so soon," Wesker commented as Chris, unexpectedly, began walking up to him.

Chris rounded his couch and as Wesker began another sentence (something about Chris not looking very surprised to see him), Chris approached him. The brunet began closing the distance between the two but a gloved hand on his jaw stopped him.

"Now, what is this?" Wesker asked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion and interest.

"Fuck me before I change my mind," Chris growled and with a smirk, Wesker obliged.

Let me start off by saying, I've changed the first chapter name. It's not really all that big or epic but the chapter names are important to me.

Second of all, let me make this clear to those of you who seem to enjoy complaining (it's just one so far). This is my story. My fanfiction. My thoughts and ideas. If I decide to put in a random OC, I will. If I don't, it's because I decided it. I plan some of these stories out intricately and sometimes, they need another character because the series just doesn't provide one for me. No, I don't regret using an original character on Shattered Memories because I felt it needed it. I'm sorry that, as a writer, I couldn't make Jill into the supportive best friend because that simply wouldn't happen. I have nothing against Jill, that's just her personality.

So let me end on this. If you have a problem with what I write, don't sit there and complain to me about it because there are plenty of people who do like it and I thank every single one of you every single time I can because you guys are amazing. Those who disagree with what I do, that's fine to tell me but do not keep harping on me about it. It's done, it's over. I won't change it just because of you unless I like the idea. If I haven't changed it by now, leave it alone.

Like I said, I love you guys who review frequently giving me helpful advice and informing me when I'm wrong about something but do not badger me about something that I've done in a past story.

Thank you to those who listen and those who enjoy this story. I already have another in mind coming up as soon as this one finishes which should be fun. Enjoy Yourself won't be as long as Shattered Memories, as far as I know, so I'm ready for whenever I manage to write the end.

~Raven