Time for more conversational fun with our two favorite people! Dialogue is one of my favorite things to write, especially when sarcasm is involved. Also, thanks to the reviewers. I'm glad so many of you are anxious to read updates.

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Chapter 12: Getting to Know You

Two more days went by and Claire quietly opened her bedroom door. Wesker sat with his back to her as she walked toward the couch. She wondered if he could hear her. It was always hard to tell with him, because his body language was so subtle and trained. Still, she kept as quiet as possible as she seated herself and began idly doodling on a notepad that Wesker had given her. He claimed that she was less annoying when she had something to do. How sweet, Claire frowned.

She was trying to make a caricature of Leon, but she couldn't get his hair right. She had never been able to do realistic drawings, but she could do simple cartoons. The skill had developed during boring lectures in school, but she usually only used it to punctuate letters to Chris with humor. Stupid hair. She began clicking her pen in thought. She had no idea how long it lasted before Wesker spoke.

"Miss Redfield, that is a most grating habit," he coldly declared. Birkin used to do the same thing when they worked in lab together, and Wesker had always disliked it. Claire stopped clicking the pen before her brain had even registered that Wesker was talking. "And I assure you that sitting out here will not offer you any information for your friends."

"I know." But she was hoping otherwise. "I just wanted to sit here." Wesker doubted that as Claire returned to her doodle.

"Dear heart, don't beat around the proverbial bush. What is it you want?" Claire fingered the last four blank pages of her notepad.

"Isn't there anything else to do around here? I'm almost out of paper." Wesker spun in his seat and rested his head in his hand. Claire unwaveringly stared right back at him.

"I would be a terrible host indeed if I let my guest waste away," he mocked. Claire could almost hear the cogs turning inside his head. "Would you care to help me with a small test?" Claire's face darkened in disgust, and Wesker remained blank. "No? That's too bad." He turned back around. He did need to go to the surface tomorrow, so perhaps it would be to his benefit to find something to keep Claire's mind occupied.

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Claire sat with a book that Wesker had provided propped on her knees. It felt good to at least have another person present in the drab building as she sat on the couch. She also found Wesker's choice of books satisfying. He had given her a collection of Shakespeare, since he knew she liked it. She pretended to make notes in the margins, but she was actually writing ideas and observations to pass the time. Sometimes she mumbled to herself in recitation.

Today, they sat quietly again, but Wesker seemed more restless than usual.

"Is work giving you problems?" Claire boldly asked. I hope it's anti-Umbrella, she thought, but she kept the comment to herself. Civility was working well, and she didn't want to be humiliated, which is what happened to her every single time she challenged him, much to her aggravation.

"And what makes you think that?" Wesker asked without turning toward her. He prided himself on remaining unreadable, and he had thought that he appeared as calm as ever today. Truth was, he was not getting the results he wanted with the samples he was working on.

"You're drumming your fingers more than usual." Wesker paused. His fingers were barely tapping the desk.

"You are more observant than I gave you credit for before, Miss Redfield. My first impression of you on Rockfort was quite premature." Claire snorted. "Indeed, work has hit a snag, and I am trying to concentrate." The threatening undertone thrown her way made Claire return to her book.

"I thought you didn't mind your quiet interrupted," she muttered to herself, but Wesker had caught it. He had to return to the lab, but it could wait. Claire registered his movement toward her but pretended not to notice. His staring unnerved her.

"Why are you reading out here, dear heart? Hostages often despair and resign themselves to their fate after some time. You've been here long enough for that to happen, but I find it hard to believe the Redfield fire has been snuffed out." He gave her the barest of mocking smiles. "Or did I overestimate your willpower?"

"Hand me a knife and find out how resigned I am," Claire dryly suggested, briefly glancing at him. He was still smiling.

"You are ever endearing, dear heart." Claire sighed.

"I don't understand you at all, Wesker," she said with frustration. "Now, you're fine with my sarcasm, but another time it might get me beaten. One moment you're a monster and the next you're almost…human. Comforting then violent, conversational then hard stone…everything is cloaked and, and…" She sealed her mouth and watched him watching her.

"Dear heart, I don't expend energy on hurting something unless I feel it necessary. You are not Chris, and I won't go out of my way to torture you."

"There you go again," Claire frowned. "You're reassuring me when we both know you don't give a damn. God! You always have your own reasons for everything, don't you? They say you play everyone off of each other. What exactly is the end goal, Wesker? Is there a bottom line buried somewhere in this jumbled mess of activities?" Wesker stood and began pacing slowly, hands folded behind him.

"You seem smart, Miss Redfield. Figure it out." He was right. Claire already knew he liked power, so that was probably what he was after. As for a bottom line, of course there was. He didn't act without purpose, or so it seemed. He gave her a vague, hidden smile before heading for a door she had yet to enter. Left alone, she waited several minutes and tried to read to no avail. She checked his desk to find it empty. Unable to tolerate boredom and because she wanted answers or information, she followed Wesker.

"One more generic lab and I'm going to hurl," she commented as she found her way through a series of white rooms. Eventually, she caught sight of Wesker. He was standing at a table and taking a blood sample from himself. She slowly and quietly approached and sat on a table further away. His black outfit contrasted sharply and fittingly, in her mind, with the whiteness of the surroundings.

"Miss Redfield, you have a habit of staring," Wesker commented after about thirty minutes. Claire quickly averted her eyes and felt like a silly schoolgirl for doing so. It was like getting caught staring at a boy in class.

"I wanted to see what you do all day." He kept working. "Why are you testing yourself? Don't you know the ins and outs of your virus by now?"

"Viruses constantly mutate," Wesker explained. "And I could still be destroyed, Miss Redfield. I'm not invincible, but there are ways to safeguard against destruction." Claire remembered the samples that had originally gotten her into such trouble with Wesker.

"When you said the samples were for a specific goal, you were talking about yourself?" She sounded so shocked and horrified that Wesker paused to look at her. Her stance revealed the extent of her discomfort over his intentions. He set his work aside and walked over to her.

"Alexia's virus has great potential," he stated. "You have no idea how powerful I could become. Even I don't know the extent of my current condition. I'm stronger, require less, and if I'm correct, my body has stopped aging."

"Aren't you afraid you'll mutate or something?" Claire pressed. "You already died. I mean, why would you need to do more to yourself than you've already done?" She truly did not understand as Wesker cupped her chin and ran his thumb along her jaw line.

"I'm touched that you're worried about my welfare, dear heart." He meant it to be sarcastic, but Claire wasn't particularly affected.

"You could take this too far and never be able to undo the damage, Wesker. You've already removed yourself from humanity…you've…you've lost something." She shook her head. "Even when I saw Birkin…he was my enemy, but seeing him like that, with Sherry screaming…I couldn't wish that on anyone." Wesker's sarcasm had dropped, and he gripped her shoulders. His voice was too commanding not to draw her full attention.

"If I were you, I'd be wishing a world of pain on my captor." He waited for a reaction that never came. "I am not a good man, as you have pointed out, and you will suffer more before this is over. Trust me on that. The world is a harsh place. Being kind will gain you nothing, Miss Redfield, nothing." He turned to go back to his work. "Your concern for your enemy has no benefits. Whatever you think I've lost is nothing compared to what I've gained." He returned to his table.

"I'm not out to gain anything," Claire commented. She thought Wesker was done, but he returned holding a purple, liquid-filled syringe. Her body tensed and she placed a table between them for protection.

"If I inject you with this, you'll become more than human. You might even have the strength to save the life of your brother." Claire's eyes shot to his. "That's right. This is the one meant for me, and you could possible be my combative better." He held it out to her, and Claire wished she could see through the sunglasses. She looked at the syringe. He couldn't be serious, even if he looked it.

"No," she affirmed. "I won't sell myself like you did. Never." Wesker withdrew the syringe with a secretive smile and returned to his lab work. Claire, tired of the game for a time, walked away, and Wesker listened to her footsteps fade. He sneered disbelievingly as he put the syringe back in its case. He couldn't begin the next stage of his work yet; for it would take longer than the days he had remaining until his meeting with Chris. His anger grew agitated at the very thought of that pest. His fingers tapped idly beside the computer screen until he realized what he was doing. Claire's words rang in his ears, and his fingers stilled.