Sleepover

(December, 1996)

Since officially joining the RPD, Jill Valentine had proven herself to be an exemplary officer. On top of being a skilled investigator, Wesker could count on her getting her paperwork on time, put in plenty of hours in the gym and shooting range, kept her workplace tidy, interact properly with the public, recite any law and regulation necessary, and work well with just about everyone in the department. He could also count on her to arrive on time. Since being hired, Jill had never been late or missed a day.

Until now.

"Redfield, have you heard from Valentine?" he asked, checking his watch again. 'Twenty-five minutes. She should have been here twenty-five minutes ago. Could she be sick? No, Jill would have called if that's the case.'

"No," Redfield replied shortly, eyes fixed to the big clock as he bounced his leg in agitation.

"Calm down you two, she probably just got caught in traffic," Vickers said.

"Traffic? This is Raccoon City, there aren't enough people here to have traffic," Wesker shot back. Another glance at his watch. 'Five more minutes. If we don't hear from Jill in five more minutes, then I'll call her.'

And if Jill didn't pick up the phone, Wesker would go looking for her. She was his subordinate, his responsibility. If something had happened to Jill, it was up to him to help her.

The hands on his watch crept by, seeming to move much slower than they should have to Wesker, so much so that he gave his wrist a little shake to see if the hands were jammed. It changed nothing though, and soon Wesker found himself bouncing his leg just like Redfield.

'Five... Four... Three... Two...'

Wesker grabbed the phone and punched in the first three digits of Jill's home number before looking up to see that Chris had also picked up his desk phone. He met the other man's eye and they both froze. Redfield was Jill's partner, he'd been over to her house and they spent plenty of their personal time together. It would make far more sense for him to call Jill than Wesker. And yet, in this moment, Wesker wanted Redfield to back down.

He wanted to make the call. He wanted to be the one who did this.

Still keeping the tense eye contact with Redfield, Wesker finished dialing Jill's number and listened to it ring, growing more agitated with each moment that passed. It was on the sixth ring that someone finally picked up.

"What the fuck is it?"

Jill sounded exhausted and aggravated, but Wesker let out a sigh of relief when he heard and stopped drumming his fingers on his desk.

"Jill!" Wesker bit his tongue to stop from asking if she was okay. "What's up, Valentine? You decide to quit and not tell anyone or something?"

"Wesker? What are you taking—Oh god, what time is it?" Wesker heard a rustling from the other end of the time. Across the office, he saw Chris put down the phone receiver. "9:30? Dammit. I'm sorry, Wesker, I completely lost track of time and—"

"Hey, hey, calm down," he said. "What is going on?"

Richard, Vickers, and Chris all perked up at his words.

"What's wrong with Jill?" Redfield asked.

"Shhhh," he hissed. "Is everything alright, Valentine?"

"I had a pipe in my apartment burst. It's a complete mess, I'm trying to stop the place from flooding and my stuff from getting ruined. I haven't even had time to call a plumber yet, let alone watch the clock! I'm sorry, I'll... I'll be at the station right away. I just have to—"

"Hey, it's fine. You stay home, don't worry about work. I'll send someone over to help with your problem."

"...Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll make you pay for it tomorrow," he said, half-joking.

On the other end of the call, Jill laughed. It was a nice sound, all things considered. "Haha, get bent, you massive jerk."

Then, after a moment, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Valentine. And keep your chin up, we need you back to your regular reliable self by tomorrow. Otherwise, this entire precinct is likely to burn to the ground."

With another laugh, they exchanged goodbyes and Wesker hung up.

"Hey, what is up with Jill?" Redfield demanded. "Is she alright?"

'You're not her keeper, buddy,' Wesker thought. "She's fine, just had an issue with her apartment. I gave her the day off to take care of it. Now, back to work. All of you."

Richard and Vickers ducked their heads like naughty children who just got scolded by a teacher, going back to their paperwork. Chris, however, glared for a good minute longer in a battle of wills before huffing and finally obeying orders. Wesker had no doubt that he'd be calling Valentine up on his lunch break to double-check she was okay. The second Redfield heard about her trouble, the man would be running to her side to offer aid.

Chris always had been a boy scout.

'Not my problem. It makes sense that they are close. it makes sense Chris would want to help. Let him,' Wesker thought to himself before punching in the number for a reliable plumber.

"Jill? You here?" Wesker called out. "The door is open, otherwise I'd knock."

From inside the apartment, he heard Valentine call out. "I'm in here, come on in."

Not one to turn down an invitation —not from Jill at least— Wesker ducked inside and wrinkled his nose at the strong musty smell in the air. He'd never been to Jill's apartment before, and could only hope that it was usually nicer than this.

"Love what you've done with the place, Valentine."

Jill gave him the finger and rolled her eyes. "If you're here to bother me after the day I've had, then you better be bringing me beer."

"Sorry, no such luck." Wesker looked around, the place was a mess. A pile of filled trash bags was in the corner, towels covered the ground, and just about everything was damp. "Yikes."

"Imagine waking up to a swimming pool in your living room," Jill said, leaning her mop up against the closest wall. "Thanks for sending the plumber by the way."

"No problem, happy to help," he said, pretending that the tips of his ears weren't heating up. "What did Johnson say?"

"It turns out the problem wasn't as bad as it looked," she replied. "Or, at least, that's what your buddy said, right before he made me go get something to eat."

Wesker chuckled, "Yeah, that sounds like Johnson."

"By the time I got back, the pipe was fixed and he claimed it was only a $150 job." Jill put a hand on her hip and cocked an eyebrow in his direction, "Seems a little on the low side to me, don't you think?"

'You could never resist a damsel in distress, could you, Johnson? At least it works in my favor this time.' Wesker shrugged, happy to feign innocence. "They didn't cover the average plumbing repair cost in military training. Maybe the Valentine Charm just claimed another victim?"

Jill rolled her eyes and gave him a friendly smack on the chest. "Don't pretend to be smooth, Wesker. You're not."

"Ooouch," he laughed. "Insult me like that again, and I won't offer to help you patch that up."

He jerked his head towards the ruined section of cut-away drywall in Jill's kitchen.

"Do you know anything about drywalling?"

"...No."

"Mmmmhmmm, that's what I thought." Jill shook her head, "Don't worry about it. Chris is coming by tomorrow after work to fix the wall and help me clean up. He apparently picked up some carpentry skills helping out at the orphanage."

"Oh, that's nice."

'Always the boy scout.'

"So what are your plans for the night?" he asked. "Have you had dinner or at least stopped to take a break? 'Cause you look ready to drop."

Jill shrugged, "I figured I'd order a pizza, take a quick shower, and pass out on the couch watching Comedy Central."

Wesker gave the woman a once-over. Jill was barefoot and clad in jersey gym shorts with a loose pink tank top, sacrificing warmth for practicality when it came to cleaning up all the water. Her curly hair was pulled into a messy bun only barely held in place with a blue bandana. Her pretty green eyes had dark shadows under them and there was a distinctive slump to Jill's shoulders. In short, she looked terrible.

'Yeah, not letting that happen.'

"No. C'mon, Jill, you can't stay here tonight. This place is gross," he said. "Come stay at my place for the night."

"No way!" Jill shook her head, trying to wave him away. "I can ask to impose on you like that!"

Wesker put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you didn't ask. I offered and now I'm insisting. Come home with me."

.

.

.

"Fine! But only because you insisted," Jill said. "And I'm buying dinner. I've still got my mind set on pizza."

"Sounds good."

Jill turned to go pack a bag. "Oh, and I'm taking the couch. I won't put you out of your bed."

"It's funny you think I'd even fit on the couch!"

"Ugh, it's been a while since I pigged out like that," Wesker said, whipping some stray pizza sauce off of his hands and slumping back down on his favorite armchair. "You're a bad influence on me, Valentine."

"Don't blame me for your weakness, Captain," Jill shot back, already spread out and comfy on his couch. It was a good look for her. "And don't pretend that you didn't like a break from non-stop chicken breast and steamed broccoli."

"I eat better than that!"

"I've seen what you bring to the station for lunch, Wesker," Jill scoffed. Then her teasing expression melted into something softer, something sweeter. "Thanks again for helping me, for taking me in."

Wesker reached over to squeeze her hand, so much smaller than his. "No problem. It's nice having someone here with me. This apartment can get awfully lonely at night."

"Maybe you should get a cat? Or a pet rock."

"Well, that's the last time I open up to you!" he laughed, giving a loose strand of Jill's hair a playful tug. "Now, didn't you mention wanting to take a shower? It's getting late."

"Nonono, wait! I gotta ask you something."

"...Okay?"

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Valentine!"

"I'm serious!" Jill said. "You're smart, good-looking, a nice guy, and you have a good job. It seems like you'd be a catch for all the ladies around here."

"Good job? Whose pay stubs have you been looking at?"

"Come one, Wesker. Be serious."

'Aw, what the hell. It's not like I'm in the single's club alone.' He sighed, sinking further down into his armchair. "I guess... I've always had a hard time opening up to others. Didn't have many friends growing up, wasn't really interested in getting them either. Same for when I got older. I didn't pay enough attention to any girls at my high school to be interested in dating, and girls asking guys out just wasn't done in my hometown. So I didn't date. Then I joined the military and there weren't many opportunities for dating there. By the time I got washed up in Raccoon City, dating was the furthest thing from my mind. And, besides, what woman would put up with a cop's schedule?"

"Chris said the same thing," Jill hummed, nodding slowly. After another quiet moment, the woman rolled up onto her feet and stretched her arms out. "Aauuugh, I am exhausted! Bring on the hot water, I need a soak!"

"The bathroom is through that door. There are some towels in the hall closet," Wesker said. "I'll get you some blankets and pillows."

"Thank ya, thank ya!"

Wesker had just finished making up a cozy little nest on the couch when Jill strolled out of his bathroom.

Wearing his shirt.

Just his shirt.

Well, his shirt and a towel in her hair.

"Uhhhhh?" he asked, unable to formulate a proper question.

Damn, white was a great color on Jill. His button-down was so large that it fell to her mid-thighs, and hung from her shoulders, letting the thin fabric hang loosely around her body. Except, that is, where it clung to Jill's still-damp skin. In those places, it was nearly see-through.

'Reel it back in, Wesker. Her eyes are up top. You're her superior, friends are all you can ever be beyond that.'

"Yeah, I forgot to bring pajamas," Jill said, tugging at a loose curl and trying to look embarrassed. "This was hanging up in your bathroom. You don't mind, do you?"

"N-no," Wesker replied, trying desperately to keep his eyes on Jill's face instead of... anywhere else. "Have at it."

"Great." And, with that, Jill threw herself onto the couch. She rolled her body out, stretching like a cat making itself comfortable. The hem of his shirt hitched higher up on her body and Wesker felt his mouth go dry. "This is really comfy, thanks!"

He swallowed hard, "No problem. Are you getting to bed?"

"Mmmhmm," she hummed, eyes already closed. "I'm tired. Sore as hell too."

"Not surprising after everything you've been up to. I'll get you some aspirin so you can get some sleep."

"Hmmm, you're the best."

"And don't you forget it," Wesker chuckled before going to rustle around for some painkillers.

When he came back a few minutes later with some water and medicine, Wesker found Jill had already slipped off into dreamland. She hadn't even gotten around to getting under the blanket.

"What am I going to do with you, Valentine?" he asked the sleeping woman, amused.

As if to answer him, Jill turned over in her sleep and rolled right off the couch. Wesker dove forward to catch her before she could hit the ground, hoisting her up in his hands as Jill snoozed on.

He looked over at the narrow couch and then back at the sleeping woman's face before sighing. "You're really going to make me do it, huh?"

Not bothering to wait for a response that wouldn't be coming, Wesker just shook his head fondly and went to tuck Jill into his bed.

In general, manual labor following a long day's work was never enjoyable. And yet, somehow, doing so with Jill was the most fun Chris had in months.

"Another layer of paint and I'd say this baby is finished," he said, stepping back and admiring his work. "It was a good thing that your landlord had some leftover paint laying around from the last time he redid this place."

"Yeah, Mr. Wong is great," Jill agreed. "Hey, turn around."

"Huh, wh—Aghhh! Jill!"

Chris wiped the smear of blue paint off of his face, taking a playful swipe at his partner as she danced away.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it!" she laughed.

"You're crazy, Valentine. Now, give me that brush!" He grabbed the paintbrush with one hand and Jill's wrist with the other, reeling her in close. "Come here!"

Smiling like a loon, Chris painted wild smears of blue on Jill's face, neck, and collarbone as she shrieked with laughter.

"Alright, alright! You win! I surrender!"

"Too bad," Chris said. "I finally got a hold of you, not letting you go now!"

The two continued their playful wrestling with Chris leveraging his greater height and weight to back Jill up against the couch, while she occasionally pulled some wrestling trick she'd learnt in the military. One more step she fell backward onto the couch, Chris collapsing on top of her.

"Umpf!" Jill grunted, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You are the worst!"

Chris just gave his most charming smile. "You know, blue is a great color on you. It really brings out your complexion."

"You don't even know what that means!"

Another cheeky grin and Chris tucked his face back into Jill's neck, smearing more paint everywhere. They laid like this for a while, catching their breath and letting the tiredness of the day wash over them. As the soreness set into their muscles, Jill racked her finger through Chris' short, dark hair, and played the strands at the base of his neck. Chris closed his eyes, listening to Jill's gentle breath, and tracing small circles on her hip bones with his thumbs. It was so peaceful, he could fall asleep right then and there.

Gurrrrrr!

'Oh, come on! Now?' Chris thought angrily. He never thought it was possible to be angry at his own stomach.

Jill laughed. "I guess it's time for a beer break?"

"If that's what you call 'dinner' then, yeah, sure," he said, rolling off of her and heading for the fridge. 'Jill must be hungry too. It's too late for anything complicated, but I could whip us up something simple like—'

He opened the fridge door, stared for a long moment at the half-empty gallon of milk, container of protein powder, and whole lot of nothing else, and closed the door again.

Turning back to Jill, he cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

His partner shrugged. "I hate grocery shopping! How about I order Chinese? I usually get it from the place around the corner, they got good egg rolls."

"...Better get a doubt order from them then."

"You were right, these are good egg rolls," Chris said, snagging the last one.

Jill nodded, "Their General Tso and Chicken Lo Mein are yummy too."

"How often do you order from this place?"

"Oh, not very often. Once, maybe twice a... week."

"Jill!"

The woman shrugged again. "What can I say? I live alone, I work long hours, and it's hard to find the time and energy to cook big meals. Best to stick to the F.E.F."

"The what?"

"Fast, easy, and filling," Jill said. "I can cook, yeah, but what's the point if I'm just going to be eating it in front of the TV while I'm home alone?"

Chris just shook his head. "Well, you forgot one thing in that little anagram of yours: H for Healthy. Come on, Jill. You know we need to stay in good health, and part of that comes from eating right. The station needs us both in top shape; you know how three officers quit in the last couple of months, and we can't afford you being out of commission because of a sodium overdose."

"Okay, I get it! Get off my back, Captain Healthy." Jill rolled her eyes, "I work out more than enough. Seriously, between you and Wesker, I'm starting to think I'll be getting pulled in for a lunch intervention sometime soon.'

"You keep making fun of me, and we'll see how many more home improvement favors you get out of me, Valentine."

At his words, Jill flinched ever so slightly. "Oh... How much do I owe you, by the way? For fixing the wall and stuff."

"What? No! Jill, I'm not going to take your money!"

"But—"

"Look, you bought dinner, a good dinner, and that's more than enough," Chris said, cutting his partner off. Then, after a moment, added, "If you really want to pay me back, then I could use your help cleaning out and fixing up the second bedroom in my house."

"Deal. Why do you need that done though?" Jill asked. "I thought you used that room for storage."

"I, uh..." Chris stumbled over his explanation. How did you tell someone that you wanted them to have their own room if they ever stayed the night? "It's just time to get that room cleaned out. I've been putting it off for years, it's easier just to dump stuff in an unused room than to actually deal with it."

"That's why my dad always taught me to travel light. Got me into the habit of not keeping much around, and now I don't have to deal with clutter," Jill said, shrugging.

Now that she said it, Chris found himself glancing around the apartment. It wasn't a large dwelling, just a small, cheap three-room apartment above a dry cleaners with blue painted walls and hardwood floors. Chris had been here before, quite a few times, but only now realized how empty of any personal touches it was. He'd seen every square inch of the place and never seen a single family photo, nor one of a younger Jill. No prom pictures, no graduation photos, no snapshots of childhood birthdays. Nothing.

Chris knew Jill had hobbies, of course, and he could see the signs of them laying around. There was a basket with yarn and knitting needles tucked under the coffee table, one of Jill's practice locks on the tv stand, and some books and magazines scattered throughout the place. But, other than that, one could easily believe that Jill just moved in yesterday. Or that she was ready to pack up and be gone by tomorrow.

That idea turned Chris' stomach. He knew Raccoon City wasn't everyone's cup of tea. Claire had made that clear a long time ago, and Barry explained it gently as he could when he broke the news he was moving his family to Florida, but he couldn't imagine leaving. For better or worse, this was his home. The thought that Jill could one day decide to up and abandon it... abandon him too was heartbreaking. Heartbreaking to the point he didn't even want to imagine it.

"Chris? You okay over there?" Jill asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, shaking his head. "Can I use your shower? I have some clean clothes to change into, but I want to wash some of the paint off before it stains your stuff, or my car seat."

"My stuff doesn't mind, but sure, you know where the shower is. Help yourself, I'm just going to pop in a movie and relax."

"Sounds good."

Jill didn't even spare him a second glance as Chris grabbed a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from his gym duffle bag. Sure, it was getting late, and it would probably be better to just head home, shower there and get ready for bed.

But he didn't want to.

Getting to spend alone time with Jill when they weren't at work was a rare thing. They both worked so much that Chris usually had to share the time he and Jill spent together with Wesker and the others. And, while Chris did like spending time with his friends, it wasn't the same.

'Quality over quantity, I suppose.' Chris thought to himself. He gave one last glance at Jill, lazily sprawled out on her couch, mindless of the blue paint smeared across her body, and grinned. 'Valentine, you really are crazy.'

Then he ducked into the bathroom for a colder-than-usual shower.

Fifteen minutes later, calmed down and paint successfully scrubbed from his body, Chris emerged to find that Jill had passed out on him.

"Aw, come on," he laughed, collapsing down in an armchair. "If I'd known the party was going to stop, then I'd have gone home."

Jill just snoozed on, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with her gentle breathing. Chris rolled his eyes and checked the clock. 9:30, early for both him and Jill, but given the past couple of days she's had, it made sense for her to catch up on sleep.

"Well, I guess I'll go home then. No point in me staying here."

That just got him a sleepy grumble as Jill rolled over in her sleep.

'I should get home. It's still early enough that I can get some work done,' Chris told himself as he glanced at the clock again. 'Why bother staying here when—'

"Chrissssss," Jill breathed, shifting around again.

His heart skipping a beat, Chris leaned over and tugged a blanket over his sleeping partner. "You're going to drive me crazy one of these days, Valentine."

Then he grabbed a second blanket, one for Jill's knitted numbers, and pulled it over his lap. Leaning back, Chris closed his eyes and let Jill's breathing lull him to sleep.