-1

Shaded eyes survey the area around him, chairs and tables knocked over, lab coats scattered and various substances. It's slightly darker with them on, everything gaining a slight black tint. He barely notices however, body tense with excitement.

Movement to his right. Target. Female, blonde, shorter than him, wickedly armed to the teeth, a knife on her shoulder, a holstered pistol and the other in her hand.

One fast movement and the gun is knocked to the floor, and she's pinned to the wall

His grip around his captive's neck tightens, and she claws at his arm, the black gloved hand trying desperately to mark him in some way, to stop him, but to no avail. He can smell the sweat trickling down her spine, her brow, between her breasts, the fear coming from her like a sweet fragrance, sustaining him, feeding him strength. His hide eyes bore into her grey ones, hers, filled with fear, tears at the sides. Her blonde hair is dishevelled, messy…soft.

He remembers it being so soft against his face, sweet smelling, like the shampoo she used in it, how he ran his fingers through it at night, pulling her close, remembers her eyes being not filled with fear but with love, lust, strength, courage. Why does she fear him? She shouldn't have to fear him, he's always been -

He lowers her down the wall, his grip loosening, letting her breath. He stands over her, his expression no longer uncaring, this new one of concern, worry, watching as she rubs her throat and coughs shakily. He opens his mouth, ready to ask her if she's alright, when something is jabbed into the space between his muscled shoulders.

"Bang." A smug voice hisses in his ear. "Game over, boyo."

He stiffens, a shuddering change overcoming him, a vicious growl erupting from his throat, animalistic and feral, hands curving into fists.

His arm twists behind him, grabbing the gun at his back, crushing the end, yanking the weapon from the shocked human's hands. He kicks it away as he turns, and his fist connects with the soft flesh of a face, feeling the delicate cartilage beneath the thin veneer twist and move to the side. He kneels beside the insentient human, hears it still breathing.

He stands up, back to her. The rest of the team has arrived, four more guns training on him. A snarl, filled with anger, hate, impatience. How dare they threaten him?

He hears the safety click off and losses it, diving for the nearest one, twisting the frail arm behind, up, till a light pop rings out, kicking away another member, sending them back into the remaining two. A swipe at his current prey's legs sends him crashing to the ground, a twisted frown coming to his face as he hears a kneecap shatter. He turns, spying the three rising from the ground, and he barrels into them, one careering over the room to slam into the wall, the cement crumbling around them as they fall to the ground, pieces falling on top as of the unconscious man. Two left. One backs away, fear evident in her blue eyes, a pleading look on her face as he advances towards her.

"No-" too late, her plea is silenced as he grabs her by the flaming locks of her hair, twisting sharply, and she cries, stumbling forwards. He catches her, and another frantic plea is cut off as he head butts her, knocking her out, her body falling from his grip. One left, a dark haired one, staring at him, pale as a sheet. Before he can put up a fight, he's thrown to the ground, and a boot presses on his head. Hands latch on, trying to stop the downwards press, a frightened yell erupting from his mouth.

The press halts as an ear-splitting klaxon wails throughout the room, and he looks up, lifting his boot from the downed human, pausing only to give a sound kick to the man's chest, flinching at the sound of cracking ribs.

Simulation over.

--

Three pairs of eyes watch the monitors around them, each bearing a different angle, each showing the same thing, only from a new perspective.

The first pair of eyes, hidden away behind darkened glass, watches the moments, the reactions to the threats around him…how not one of them leads to the death of the target. How every member of that team sustained serious injuries…all bar her.

A smirk teases his lips. "Perfect."

He stands, the leather chair creaking as his body is eased from its confines. The other eyes in the room turn to him.

"Wesker…you can't do this to him."

Orange meets green, and even through a veil of darkness shrouds them, Wesker can still feel the other's discomfort, spying an angry look on the young man's face.

"Who said I couldn't?"

"I'm saying it! Your plan is stupid, and it's going to drive him insane! It'll break him, tear him to pieces, he won't be able to do anything!"

"What makes you so sure?"

"I…" he trails off, unsure of his reply, but in his heart, he knows this is wrong.

"Perhaps you should stay quiet on matters that don't concern you, Steve."

"Pot. Kettle. Black." The third person in the room speaks up, slinking forwards into the light from the monitors. Arms crossed, she's frowning. "This is a dangerous game you're playing Wesker. I don't know what you plan to do with this…matchmaking game of yours…but I hope for your sake you know what you're doing."

"Ada, my dear, playing with hearts may be your game…" He chuckles, facing her. "But don't be so naive to believe that you're the only one who can fool people into believing something false."

She flinches, a hand tightening on her bare arm, eyes downcast. Leon…

"I have something special in store for these two…" The trio look back up at the monitors, showing the group leaving or being carried out on stretchers from the training room…

--

He catches her just outside the training room, after they've both changed, clean clothes hugging them like a second skin.

"Hey…"

"Huh?" She turns her head, a slight look of alarm on her guarded features as she looks at him. "Oh…"

"I…I wanted to apologise for in there."

"In the training room? You did what you had to do in those circumstances-"

"Yeah, but I could have killed you…any of you. I'm sorry about your friends, will they be okay?"

"Doc said they'd be fine, just need a bit of patching up. Few broken bones, not much else." A shrug. "I'm Eliza by the way."

"Chris. Chris Redfield." he smiles at her, a fuzzy feeling growing in his chest as he takes her hand. Suddenly, he has to stop himself kissing the appendage in his grip, from kissing her lips, touching her hair, holding her close to his chest…and he doesn't know why.

He notices a delicate flush rising in her cheeks. "You can…let got now…" she murmurs.

"Huh?" he's forgotten he still has her hand. Reluctantly, he lets her slip it away, a shy smile on his face. "Sorry."

"It's alright. I just need it to eat is all…Do you…wanna grab something to eat?" she jerks a thumb behind her for emphasis, stumbling over her words.

"Uh, sure." He's not quite sure it's normal for him to go eat with someone he's almost choked, but she seems easy enough around him, and she's the one asking.

"Come on then." Seeing the hesitation on his face, she adds, "Don't worry about it. Stuff like that happens during training. Boss wouldn't have put us in there if he didn't think we could handle it."

"Yeah, yeah, guess your right." he feels a little better about it now, and slips his arm through hers. "To the cafeteria then?"

She nods. "To the cafeteria."

--

The cafeteria is packed. Almost every long table is filled with teams off duty, relaxing, sitting either on the floor, table or occasionally the chairs. The whole place just reeks of cafeteria food, fun times and good friends.

"Wow, wasn't expecting such a…rush." she frowns slightly. "Where we gonna sit?"

Before her companion can reply, a small throng of younger men surround him, chattering excitedly.

"Aw dude! That was amazing!"

"You totally kicked their butts!"

"No one else managed to take that team down before -"

"And you did it all by yourself!"

The adoration and respect is rife in this place, she notices.

"You got skills man!

"Mad skills!"

She whistles loudly, and as the chattering ends, they look at her curiously.

"Alright brats, back off, this isn't a video game convention."

"Hey girly, don't you tell us what to do." She gains herself a few angry looks from Chris's admirers. "We got just as much right being here as you."

A muscled blond one leers at her. "Yeah, why don't you go screw your commanding officer to get a raise?"

The torment is met by jeers and laughs from his friends, claps on his shoulder.

Chris expects her to glare at him, slap him perhaps; instead, she does something a little different.

A small smile comes to her face, the sides of her eyes wrinkling with mirth. "Oh sweetie, I wouldn't dream of taking your boyfriend away from you."

Stunned silence.

Then his group of 'friends' burst out in raucous laughter, a few actually falling to the ground, clutching their stomachs.

"Dude, you got OWNED!"

"By a GIRL!"

His face is bright red, mouth working away soundlessly, hands balled into fists.

"Shut up! All of you! SHUT UP!" his anger filled voice echoes throughout the cafeteria, and the chatter dies away, all eyes drawn towards the group at the entrance. He raises a finger to point at her. "You'll get what's coming to you, whore." he promised, eyes glinting.

A hand claps down on his shoulder.

"Listen, if I were you, I'd keep my distance. Wouldn't want to end up like the rest of that team now would you?" Chris warns him lowly, his eyes burning behind the glasses.

Fear flashes across the blue eyes, but all too soon replaced by anger. "Who'd you think you are, freak? Huh? Wesker wannabe? Watch your back, you wouldn't want to turn up missing, would you?" he hisses, pushing the hand off his shoulder. "Might want to tell your girl the same thing." He pushes his way out the gaggle of fan boys, a few reluctantly following, bearing the same team number on their shoulders.

Slowly, people turn back to their companions; chatter filling up the room again. Those who crowded round drift away now, sending the pair worried smiles, concerned looks.

"You gonna be okay?"

"Me? Please, if I let that nut job get to me, then I'd have left my first day. Let's just eat. I'm starved."

As he leads her to the nearest free table, Chris reminds himself to personally thank Wesker for making him a 'new recruit.'