-1

Chapter Dedication: This ones for a very good friend, a friend who draws a very sweet little green lizard called Miggins. This ones for you Ry-Ry.

--

Claire yawns, covering her mouth with a half-gloved hand. The fingers of the glove were (unsurprisingly) missing. She was alone (well, as alone as you can be in a traffic jam), and bored out of her mind. Suddenly, she licks her inner wrist, waits three seconds then sniffs it, seeing if her breath is bad. It's not too bad, but it doesn't smell too great either. In fact, it smells like chicken chow mien, the food she'd been eating about half an hour ago with Rebecca. She'd gone to see the medic about a personal problem and had spent half the day with the girl, laughing, joking, and talking about random crap. It was…god, it was fun. She'd almost forgotten what that was.

Right now though, she's in the middle of a traffic jam, in the middle of Berlin, stuck on her cycle with no leathers, no helmet, nothing but denim shorts, shoes, tank top and fingerless gloves. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, it's giving her a horrible sense of de ja vu from the night she went to Raccoon. She remembered thinking that Chris would kill her when they met each other, because she hadn't worn her leathers. At least back then she'd had a helmet.

Her heart clenches painfully at the thought of Chris but the pain is less than it has been. It's only been a year since he died, but still…he had been the only family she had left, and then he'd gone as well. Jill was fantastic, and Barry kept them all going, and this year they'd taken down a hidden Umbrella facility in Chris's honour. He'd left the next missions orders beside his letter. Said he'd done it as a precaution. It was so unlike Chris, but it made them realise he was more than they ever gave him credit for. Even if he didn't seem like he planned ahead, he did. He did his research, and he was the best leader and friend they could have hoped for…the best brother Claire could have ever wished for.

Claire shakes herself and starts the bike moving as the traffic begins to move around her. It's not the time to be thinking about Chris…even if…even if tomorrow was the day he died.

That's the reason she's out on her bike. She's been going around like crazy to try and find a chocolate cake big enough for them all to share, and she needs to buy champagne or some form of alcohol that they all like, which is hard enough because of their meagre budget. Leon sent some money occasionally, which helped a good deal, but he wasn't allowed to speak to anyone outside the academy until he'd finished his training. Claire missed him, but there were others she missed a good deal more…

She pulls up outside the chain supermarket and goes in, to return a few minutes later with a cake and some beer, because everyone likes beer, and if they don't they can go suck Wesker for all Claire cares, she just wants to get home and sit her ass down on something softer than the bike.

--

Claire walks in the door and frowns at the sight in front of her. Jill's pressed up against the wall, arms wrapped around Carlos's neck and they're kissing each other gently. It's sweet, but in Claire's heart, it doesn't feel right. Jill should be kissing Chris, not the mercenary she met in Raccoon. She half thinks Jill's betraying Chris's memory by doing this, but she realises that Jill's alive, and Carlos cares about her…Chris is gone and he's never coming back…

Claire dumps the bag onto the table with a loud thump, and Jill and Carlos leap apart, looking like guilty teenagers. Jill instinctively smoothes down her hair, while Carlos smirks and ruffles his.

"Claire, where were you, we were worried about you." Jill asks, watching her take out the cake and beer. Jill hated beer. From the look on Claire's face though, she'd best not say anything.

"You didn't look like you were doing much worrying." the biker mutters scathingly. "You know what day it is tomorrow, can't you hold back your hormones for even a little while? God! Can't you just-"

"Just what Claire? Be celibate for the rest of my life?" Jill glares angrily at her former lovers sister. "Chris is gone. He's dead. You think I don't know that tomorrow is the day he died?! I was there. I watched him die Claire! Do you know what that did to me?!"

"No but-"

"Then do us all a favour and don't talk about things you don't understand!" Jill turns on her heel and goes to her room slamming it shut.

--

Inside, Jill sinks down onto the bed and hesitates before pulling a cardboard box from under the bed. Insides is a few little things, nothing special to anyone other than her really. She pulls out a bottle of aftershave, opens it, inhaling the scent. Chris always wore this brand once he figured out she loved the smell. She sets it back in the box and pulls out the photograph of her and Chris, him wearing her beret, the picture with a big lipstick kiss on it. Not that anyone actually knew, but the lipstick kiss was from Forest when he was drunk. What a night that had been.

Jill puts it back and pulls out another photo, this time of all the STARS together, then another or Chris fishing, then yet another of the marksman, this time with his sister. There's more pictures in the box, separate snapshots of the team members at work (Brad), target practice (Forrest and Chris), sleeping on the desk (Enrico after the Christmas party) and many others, including one she'd kept of Wesker. She'd taken it secretly, when she'd spotted him with no glasses on. He had a small smile on his face, and the sun was hitting off his hair so beautifully she'd had to take the picture. His ice blue eyes stand out amazingly in it, and she's proud of the photograph. She's kept it because it's a reminder of happier days, days she wishes would come back.

Jill sets the photo's down and pulls out the piece de résistance, the one thing she cherished above all else. She'd found it inside Chris's STARS vest, when she'd been holding it for comfort about a week after he died. A small velvet covered ring case, and inside, two different sized wedding bands and an emerald and sapphire engagement ring. Blue and green, their colours.

If the others ever knew she kept this box, they'd know exactly how she felt about Chris. She isn't over him at all. Every time she wakes up and sees Carlos at her side rather than Chris, her heart splits anew. They'd know that Jill Valentine was still very much in love with a dead man.

Everything gets put back into the box, aside from the rings, which she sets on the bedside table, positioning them just right to that the afternoon sun catches the precious gems and reflects off. If Jill hadn't seen the marksman fall, then she never would have thought he was dead. There were still little reminders of his life everywhere, Claire still bought his coffee occasionally, out of sheer habit. Jill just wished it were so, that he'd come back. He didn't feel dead in her heart, he just felt missing.

"No, don't. He's gone…he's gone…no." Jill murmurs to herself, to stop herself from hoping a fools hope. If he was alive then he would have come back, after all, it has been a year. He would have phoned or something.

She shouldn't have yelled at Claire, she realises. The girl misses her brother more than Jill probably does, no wonder she doesn't like Jill being with Carlos. Claire still probably thinks Jill should be wearing black and weeping.

But Jill isn't that kind of girl. She fell apart, and Carlos was there to pick up the pieces. She wasn't serious about the relationship, but she had the feeling Carlos was. Maybe it's best to break it off…

As the bedroom door opened, Jill grabbed the ring box in one hand and hid the memories box under the duvet, half panicking as Carlos walked in. Has he seen the box?

Carlos shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed, face set with determination. He hasn't noticed the tense way Jill is sitting, hasn't noticed that she's clutching a badly concealed ring box with two hands.

"She had no right to speak to you like that chica." he says angrily, setting himself down beside her, millimetres from crushing Jill's precious hidden box. "The man is dead, she can't expect you to be a nun from now on."

"Give the girl a break Carlos…Tomorrows the day she lost her brother last year. You weren't there either."

Carlos gives her a long look then sighs. "Your right Jill…I'm sorry." He slowly wraps an arm around her waist and lifts her onto his lap, finally twigging that there's something in her hands. He smiles to himself and slips a hand over her covered ones. "What's that you got there Jill?" he whispers in her ear, his breath ghosting over her ear. She shivers, closing her eyes, and her iron grip on the ring box relaxes as she replaces the image of Carlos and his voice with Chris's.

With a deft movement he grabs the ring box and flips it open, raising an eyebrow. "Jill these are…"

Jill's eyes snap open and she snatches the ring box from him, getting to her feet. "Nothing, they're nothing." she babbles, shoving the ring box in a drawer. -He knows, he knows and he'll tell the others, they'll think I'm pathetic-

"Jill, those were wedding rings…Why do you have them?" He's highly doubtful that she'll be asking him to marry her, and it was a woman's engagement ring in there, not a mans…Which means… "They're from Chris, aren't they."

It's not a question, and he's not expecting a verbal answer, the merc can see it in the way she's standing, how she's gazing at the floor, as if she wants it to swallow her whole. His voice turns cold. "You still love him don't you? You're in love with a dead man." He rises to his feet, eyes locked onto her face.

"Face it Jill. He's dead."

"Shut up…" she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut.

"He's dead -" he grabs her arms.

"-Stop it…" A tear trickles out.

"You need to get over him!"

"Carlos stop it!" she pleads, voice shaking.

"He doesn't exist anymore!"

"SHUP UP!" She screams at him, breaking away. "You don't know anything! Just leave me alone! I don't want anything more to do with you!"

"What's going on in here?!" Rebecca's standing at the open bedroom door. One look at Jill's tear-stained face, and Carlos's red angry one is all she needs to see. "Carlos…I think you should go for a walk." she speaks calmly, not wanting to exacerbate things any further.

The merc nods and exit's the room, brushing past the medic. Making sure Carlos has left, Rebecca moves over to Jill and embraces the older woman, comforting her.

"Becca? What was all the shouting?" Claire peers into the room and sees Jill crying on the medic's shoulder. In spite of the tiff she and Jill had just been having moments ago, Claire enters the room, wanting to help the eldest female of the group feel better, because they're friends, and that's what your supposed to do. The three sit down on the bed, and Jill pulls out the box. Perhaps it's time to tell the others, maybe then she can move on and the pain will finally free her from its clutches…

--

Carlos storms along the silent streets, ignoring the occasional hooker calling out to him, growling to himself in frustration. God damnit, Chris is dead, why can't she just move on and be happy with me?! Is it too much to ask?! He's fish food and he's still all she ever thinks about. She even whispers his name in sleep, during sex…

He turns down an alleyway and punches the nearest wall, yelling angrily in his native tongue. She can't keep doing this to him, it's tearing him in two. It feels like she's just using him to keep alive the marksman's memory.

…Fuck that hurt…

Carlos cradles his hand, cursing himself for actually punching a goddamned brick wall. His hand feels like…like…Like I just punched a brick wall he thinks to himself, ironically.

Something buzzes faintly in his shirt pocket. Carlos frowns and pulls out the ageing Nokia 3310. The old brick is a good phone, and only the others have the number for it. How long has he been gone, he wonders. Surely only a few minutes?

He accepts the call and holds the phone to his ear.

"Good morning star shine." he mutters into the phone.

"Oh, how sweet, they use code phrases!" A sultry feminine voice speaks down the other end of the line, and it's not one he recognises.

"Who is this?"

"This is someone who's about to make you an offer…you can't refuse."