Author`s Note: Enjoy.

_three. DRINKS

Chris sent his sister a quick text before walking into the pub—a watering hole for B.S.A.A. agents after a hard day at work. There was still a pile of reports he had left on his desk, but the captain was determined to come. Not long after he returned to his office, Marco Rose came knocking and curiously asked about the captain's relationship with 'Daniels' as he called her. Chris wanted to tell him 'it was complication', for he wouldn't be lying, but ultimately sidetracked the conversation to the new files Rose had brought him. The explosives expert took the hint and didn't mention Bailey again, but in his usual fashion, ended the discussion with an invitation to get drinks after work. "Of course, all the teams will be there," Rose encouraged, "Sort of an office Christmas party before shit hits the fan." Chris at the time didn't answer Rose, instead saying he'd 'think about it', but now he was here.

He could hear music in the background, a rock band he was unfamiliar with. Upon looking around, Chris saw some of his men engaging in a game of darts or billiards, while the others were still sitting at the bar drinking. Sauntering in that direction, he was surprised to find his second with a drink in his hand. Chris slipped next to him and ordered a beer, receiving a round of cheers from the other guys. "Surprised to see you here Piers," he spoke over the volume of the crowd they were near.

Piers Nivans swished his drink around nonchalantly and looked at his captain, "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you guys."

The senior agent scoffed with a side smirk and tipped his bottle back, refreshed and relieved he wasn't spending another night in his office. Even so, Piers still brought the subject of Edonia up to his captain, wanting his opinion on the whole situation. For the last two years, the Eastern European state was at war with itself, made worst by the recent rumors. Chris listened half-heartedly to what the sniper had to say, drinking through his beer after every point made. He appreciated Pier's gung-ho attitude, it made him feel young again at times and was often the encouragement he needed to get through missions. Even after Africa, he still questioned if what he did was still worth it.

Chris was ready to finally add to the dialogue when someone caught his attention at the door.

"Who invited her?" Piers growled, noticing his captain's line of sight.

Chris told himself he was going out to socialize for once, get out of that stuffy office of his, but subconsciously he wanted to see her again. Bailey lingered in the doorway with a phone in her hand and an amused smirk across her lips. He took note of her casual attire: faded jeans, heels switched out for some boots, and an opened plaid shirt over a loose top. This was how he remembered her, informal and shorter—the heels earlier had added a noticeable difference. She was pacing to and fro, hand on her hip at one moment and then relaxed at her side. Chris watched her, surprised when she looked up and caught his eye. Bailey smirked and began walking towards them, still chatting away on the phone.

"Oh great," Piers groaned.

"Be nice," Chris smirked, trying to hide his mirth.

Bailey stopped at Chris's side, being blasé as she brushed his arm with her hand. "As I said—I turned over all my findings, if you've gone and lost them, that's on you Quint—" she was interrupted by the voice on the other side, "Fine—fine, I'll check again, but when I get home." The redhead hung up abruptly and sunk into the bar stool at the captain's side, and immediately picking up on Piers's glare. "Piers Nivans," she cooed, "if only all the snipers were as cute as you in the B.S.A.A." She spoke entirely with the intention to make the sharp-shooter uncomfortable, winking at him. Piers shot his captain a look, hoping for an intervention, but Chris was otherwise distracted. With no aid, he abandoned his drink and decided to sit with the other guys, tossing Chris an angry look.

"What are you drinking?" Captain Redfield asked, watching as Bailey scanned the room.

She turned back to him with an impish grin, "A bit of everything—couldn't find a decent drink where they had me in Africa—but I think I'll start with some whiskey." Bailey directed the latter at the bartender that had come up to them, at the same time Chris ordered another beer.

They both sat silently waiting for their drinks, neither of them forgetting the conversation they had earlier. Bailey was fidgety, biting her lip and casting sidelong looks at Chris. "What?" he gave in, holding his new beer at his lips.

"It's strange being back," she admitted, gulping down her whiskey, "almost like a dream."

Chris could empathize, it was surreal having her back. When she had left, they hadn't parted on the best of terms and only communicated on one occasion—an email that ended up being awkward and all business. After that, she attempted to email him again, but the captain chose to focus on his work. Now Chris wished he had replied to her digital letter, even if all he could muster was a 'hey'. He observed her from the corner of his eye, admiring the sun freckles across her nose and the few constant freckles on her lips. Her false pleasantries were maddening, he knew this was all a prelude to the conversation they would eventually have. But they were both stubborn and doing their best to avoid it.

"Here ya are ma'am," said the bartender suddenly, barging through their thoughts, "from the gentleman at the pool table."

Both Chris and Bailey looked back, catching the enthusiastic wave of Marco before being elbowed to take his turn in the game. She smiled and happily took the drink, setting her finished glass aside. If the captain wasn't suspicious before about Bailey's influence over Marco, he was now. The way his explosives expert greeted her earlier today was reminiscent of long lost lovers reunited at last, and that hadn't sat well with Chris. He thought of the way she leaned over his desk this morning, being coy in what she said. Would she had let him take her in his arms and swing her around like that? Chris mulled it over in his head, giving his thoughts away on his face.

"So what's the deal in Eastern Europe?" she was trying to deter from the topic of Marco, and into something that was oddly enough, more pleasant.

The captain sighed and ran his hand back through his hair, "I don't know yet."

"Any B.O.W.s?"

"Not sure, plenty of rumors, but that's about it," Chris answered.

Bailey was hesitant in what she said next. "I've come across some things that suggest there's a new group in development," she spoke carefully, "There's evidence Sherawat tried to make contact with Excella Gionne, but we haven't found anything saying she got through. Quints still doing—whatever it is he does—on a hard drive we found." She looked down into her drink and then back at Chris, "Marco told me about that incident at the school, I'm sorry to hear about Doug."

She indecisively touched Chris's arm again, keeping it there this time. Her hand was warm and small, with a scar that ran the length of her thumb and a band of pale skin where a ring use to be worn. It had been years since she didn't get married, but Bailey still had the reminder and Chris the invitation stashed away in a drawer. He covered her hand with his, much larger and far more scars. "Bailey—"

"Come on Captain!" Marco was suddenly standing behind them, oblivious as they snatched their hands back. "You can't hog Daniels all night," he complained, draping an arm around her shoulders. "Come play a round with us!" he begged, although it was hindered by his buzz. Chris looked at Bailey, waiting for her move.

"How about," she gave Marco her full attention—sultry voice and flirty looks—full manipulation mode. "If you win the next game, I'll take your drunk ass home instead of Jeff?"

"That's not fair—" hollered Jeff from the pool table, "You know Rose can't play!"

Bailey laughed and Marco turned around determined, "You're on!" He was halfway back to the billiards table when he walked back to Bailey with a grin. "For good luck," he announced and gave her an unexpected kiss.

Marco returned to his buddies, unaware of the stun he left on his captain's face or the disturbance he caused in Bailey's facade. Chris stood up and excused himself without waiting for a word from the redhead, who downed the rest of her drink as he walked away. He stopped in the hallway that lead towards the back exit and the bathrooms, leaning back against the wall. Chris dug his phone from his pocket—any distraction would do at the moment. He noticed his sister had replied and curiously read her text, surprised by the content. The older Redfield had told Claire that Bailey was back from Africa and he thought she might be at the pub tonight. His sister was always his closest confidant, Jill being a close second.

You two are so stubborn. Chris grinned at his sister's reply—straight to the point as always.

He stayed in the hallway for a while longer, trying to decide what mood he was going to catch Bailey in. Prepared for either, Chris headed back towards the bar. Marco was still playing pool with his team, and by the pat he was getting on the back, he was on his way to a loss. Piers had joined a game of darts at this point and was finally enjoying himself. When he reached the end of the bar where he was sitting, the captain stopped mid-step—he wasn't prepared for this. Bailey had her arms crossed on the bar and was sleeping with her head turned towards the direction he had left in. He shouldn't have been surprised, she did spend most of the last two days traveling and in disappointing meetings. Chris smirked and tried to nudge her away.

"How much?" he asked the bartender for their tabs, digging cash from his jacket. Bailey moaned and refused to budge, completely ignoring Chris.

The bartender shook his head, "She already paid for the two of you."

Chris gave his thanks and tried a second time to stir the agent awake, but to no avail. He picked her up in his arms despite the pub was full of witnesses and carried her towards the door. "Keep an eye on everyone Piers!" he called to his second, who gave him a disapproving look before readily accepting the task. Jeff nodded at the captain, consoling a loosing Marco, and then he was outside.

He wasn't sure which vehicle was hers out of a parking lot filled with trucks and jeeps, and ultimately decided she would just have to retrieve it in the morning. It was cold out and softly snowing as he headed towards his jeep, carefully maneuvering to get the door open without dropping Bailey. Chris had forgotten that she was a heavy sleeper. He slipped her into the passengers seat and tucked her into the seatbelt, then he made his way around the front and got into the driver's seat. The captain breathed on his hands to warm them up and then brought the vehicle to life as he turned the key in the ignition. He turned to look at his passenger, catching her eyes half open but still far away in her dreams. She reached out and touched his hand on the gear, giving the captain a honest smile before succumbing back to sleep.