Author`s Note: Finally, a long overdue update.
_two. CATCHING UP
Chris stood outside the conference room, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. He couldn't make a word through the closed door no matter how hard he tried, but the sudden silence was not a good sign. Suddenly there was a stir of movement and the grind of chairs, then one by one the advisors filed from the room. Each greeted the captain with a handshake or nod, until the last to step through was Jill Valentine. Since returning from Africa, she had taken an advisor position within the B.S.A.A. instead of rejoining Chris in the field. The traumatic events of being under her adversary's control for several years was still taking its toll, and she still needed time to reclaim herself. She started by cutting her hair after the blonde had grown out, going back to a dark bob. Chris had always liked her with short hair.
Jill saw him standing there, cautiously waiting, and clearly not for her. She walked over to him and held her hand up to stop him from saying anything. "Shouldn't you be preparing for Edonia?" she asked, deterring him from asking about the meeting.
"I take it didn't end well," he went on to say anyways, eying the door for the last of the occupants to make an exit.
Jill followed his line of sight and grabbed his arm. "Chris don't. A lot of people are still angry about the incident. At this point, we'd rather trust a rookie with an assignment and keep her pushing pencils," she summarized, releasing her friend's arm.
"We?" he repeated.
"Don't give me that look Chris."
"She was one of the few that believed you were still alive Jill—believed me. Bailey was the one that gave me the intel that eventually led to you," he argued, "And don't forgot what she lost that day too."
Jill sighed, "Look it's out of my hands now." She patted Chris on the arm and went her separate way, leaving him alone.
The captain wandered into the conference room. Bailey had her back to him, furiously flipping through the slides of her presentation—suddenly pausing on the profile of a deceased member of the B.S.A.A. He rapped his knuckles on the door frame to catch her attention. She turned startled, saw it was Chris, and quickly turned the projector off. The dummy smile she flashed earlier was replaced with a scowl, her trademark expression. It was surprisingly refreshing to see her normal, unpleasant self again.
"That bad." He smirked, catching a hint of amusement on her pale lips.
Bailey pushed her chair in, still avoiding eye contact, and scoffed, "I think your girlfriend enjoyed telling me there's a desk with my name on it."
Chris slowly walked towards her, straightening some papers on the table as he grew nearer. "First," he started, "Jill and I are friends."
"Well that explains a lot," she retorted.
"Secondly," he interjected before she could make a second comment, "there is still a lot of animosity amongst the men. Leadership is earned by the trust of those who follow you—and you still have a lot to prove after what happened."
He saw the redhead's calloused fingers curl into fists against the table's surface, nails biting white crescents into her skin. A nerve was breached. She inhaled loudly, the hostility in the room at a stand still. Chris stood his ground, watching her carefully. Bailey looked up, face placid and deep in thought, meeting his brown eyes. "And you?" she whispered.
Chris didn't have to ask for an elaboration. Instead he walked up to her, nearly towering a foot over the petite agent. "No," he replied plainly.
She looked away first, turning her back to him as she dug into the pocket of her blazer. Bailey twisted back around and flashed Chris the contents of her pocket. "Care to join me? Or have you quit?" He subconsciously fingered his empty pocket, realizing he had left his pack of cigarettes in his desk. Always observant, Bailey smirked and started walking past him, "You can owe me."
The duo left the conference room side by side in silence, Chris's boots scuffing the recently polished floors and his companion's heels clicking excitedly to match his stride. They hastily moved through the hallways, past Jill's open office door and a passing Piers, who grimaced at a flirty wink from Bailey. Eventually they were outside, where he bummed a smoke from the redhead and mentally apologized to his sister. He'd been trying to quit for years, but this line of business isn't exactly the stress free environment he needed to accomplish such a feat. He watched her light her own cigarette with a match, lips partially puckered before she touched the filter to her mouth. Chris watched as she craftily blew rings of smoke, smirking.
"How's your sister?" Bailey asked through puffs, keeping her gaze far and distant.
Chris glanced at her and stubbed the half finished cigarette, grinding it into the asphalt with the toe of his boot. He saw her smile knowingly. "She's been better, been through some tough shit the last year," he answered, turning from the cold breeze that brushed past them. This time of year was rather cold in the United Kingdom, but Bailey was dressed in a pair of black pumps, a tight pencil skirt, and a nice buttoned blouse beneath her blazer. "Aren't you cold?" he nonchalantly spoke aloud.
She looked at him amused, "No. I missed this weather the most—Christmas just isn't the same if you're not freezing to death."
"Shit, that's in a couple days now isn't it."
"Yeah," she whispered, "it'll be nice to spend it with someone special this year."
He opened his mouth intending to ask 'who', but the door swung open and a voice cut through his thoughts.
"Captain, Nivans said you'd be out here—" the soldier froze noticing his interruption and then a broad grin stretched across his face. "You said you wouldn't be back 'til tomorrow!" he exclaimed, ignoring the bewildered look on Chris's face. The soldier stomped across the concrete towards Bailey, happily swinging her around in a strangling bear hug just after she finished her cigarette. He gently balanced her back on her heels and kept an arm around her waist, "I'd have come picked you up."
Bailey straightened her skirt, "Then I would never have made it to my meeting this morning."
Chris nervously coughed and the soldier's entire demeanor changed. "Sorry Sir, there's been an update on the situation in Edonia. HQ wanted you to be informed of it immediately."
Marco Rose was a predominant member of the Bravo Team, working closely with Chris's Alpha team on many occasions—he was the one they called when an explosives expert was needed. He was only slightly taller than Chris himself, just as scruffy, and had a buzzed faux hawk. Rose was usually the first one to invite everyone out for drinks, take on the rookies, and had a reputation for being a lady's man.
The captain side glanced at the arm still around Bailey's waist. "Thanks Rose," he responded.
"Well, as much as I want to stay and catch up," Rose was looking at Bailey as he spoke, "I've gotta get the new kid ready for when we hit Edonia." He paused, nodding at his captain and then he turned back to Bailey, "I'll call you later."
They watched Marco disappear through the double doors, Bailey all the while lighting a second cigarette. She tipped the carton towards Chris, but he waved his hand. Again, the couple were silent.
"I am glad you're back Bailey."
The redhead looked over at him surprised, ash falling from the stub between her fingers.
"I've gotta check out this report Rose mentioned," he went on to mutter, "but we should talk some more." Chris saw she still was curiously looking at him, "I'd like to catch up."
With nothing else to say, Chris returned to his office. Bailey stayed outside and smoked through the rest of her pack.