Leon lowered his gun, a half smile forming on his face. "Hey...who are you?" he asked. Claire, on the other hand, kept her gun up.

The girl did the same. "Who am I? Who the hell are you? And why are you in here?" she asked.

"That's our business, okay?" said Claire.

The girl kept her gun on Claire now. "Oh yeah? Well I can make it MY business, since you're in MY office, holding MY gun," she said.

Leon turned around and looked at a picture on the desk where he'd found the gun. There was a girl with a man, and he could tell it was the same person. Not the girl and the man, just the girl in the picture and the one in the room.

He turned back and put his hand on Claire's gun. "Girls, please, let's not argue over this, it's not the time," he said.

The girl at the door sighed and lowered her gun. "You're right," she said.

Leon nodded and looked back to Claire. "Come on, we still have to find out what happened here and shooting everyone isn't going to help," he said.

The girl walked into the office and sat on the edge of a table, Claire's aim following her the whole time. "I can tell you what happened, the whole town went to shit, that's what," she said.
"What do you mean?" asked Leon, now ignoring Claire and sitting on Chris' chair.

"Well, we went to check out a forest, to figure out why there were so many hikers missing and stuff, but then we got stuck in some mansion. I'll spare you the details, but basically a virus got out and people turned into zombies. That got back to the city and now, here we are, pointing guns at cops and stealing their guns," she said.

Claire glared. "You're not a cop," she said.

"Yes, I am. Like I said, this is my office and that's my gun. I'd appreciate it if you gave it back," said the girl, grinning.

"I can give you the bullets back," said Claire.

"OKAY STOP IT!" yelled Leon. "Claire, put the gun down, and stop being a b-"
"Claire?" asked the girl. "As in Claire Redfield?"

Claire looked at her. "Depends who's asking," she said.

"...I am. I JUST did, weren't you listening? Are you Claire Redfield or not?" asked the girl.

"Maybe, maybe not," said Claire.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Yep, only a Redfield can be this stubborn," she said.

Claire brought the gun down. "What is THAT supposed to mean!?" she asked.

The girl smiled. "I'm Chris' partner, so of course I've seen his act many times to recognize it from his family," she said.

"...You know Chris? Is he here?" asked Claire.

"No, he's not. He went away with Barry, we're trying to keep a low profile since Umbrella's on our ass," she said.

Leon shook his head. "How did you know she was his sister though?" he asked.

The girl looked up. "He's mentioned her a lot, I recognized the name. Wait..." she looked back to Claire. "Why the hell are you here!? If he knew this, he'd have a stroke!" she said.

"I came looking for him. That bastard never called me, or answered when I called him," said Claire.

The girl folded her arms and crossed her legs, slightly leaning back on the fax machine. "Wow, loyal," she said.

"He owes me money," said Claire.

The girl laughed. "I like you. You remind me of Chris, but smarter," she said. She noticed Leon was staring at her and sighed. "What?"
Leon scratched his head. "Are you sure you're a cop?" he asked.

"No, why?"

"Well...I mean, your outfit...it's not very coppy," said Leon.

The girl rolled her eyes. "It's my day off, dude," she said. She looked at Claire and raised a brow. "Seriously?"

Claire grinned. "Hey, I've been dealing with him all night," she said.

The girl hopped off the table and held her hand out to Claire. Leon reached for it, but Claire wacked his hand away and took the girl's.
"I'm Jill," said the girl.
Claire nodded, and handed her the gun. "Here, I'm sure we've established this is yours'," she said.

Jill looked at Leon's gun, then back to Claire. "Do you have your own?" she asked. Claire shook her head. "Well then, keep it. I'm sure you'll need it to get out of here alive."
"Thanks," said Claire.

Jill walked over to one of the closed lockers, opened it, and smiled. "Besides, I'd rather take this. Good ol' Barry," she said. She pulled out a shotgun, cocked it with one hand, and closed the locker. "Well guys, be careful around here, there's more than just zombies," she said.

"Wait, you're leaving?" asked Leon.
Jill nodded. "There's this guy...or, something...and he won't stop following me. I'd rather keep him away from you guys, or Chris would never let me hear the end of it," she said.

"Aww, he'd care that much?" Leon asked.

Claire put her hand to her forehead, and Jill sighed. "About Claire, yes," said Jill. "Anyways, ciao!" she said as she walked out of the office.

Claire looked at Leon. "Dude, hold on...We could've had a shotgun!?" she said.

Leon shook his head. "She can't go out there alone! She could get hurt, or scared, or-"
"You think you have a chance with her? Dude, she knows my brother," said Claire.

"So?"
"So...She probably KNOWS my brother...He's twenty-five, and she's pretty freaking hot. I'm not an idiot," she said.

"Yeah...She is pretty hot. But what are the chances I'll run into someone as hot as her in this stupid town? I have to take my chances!" said Leon as he ran out the door.

Claire ran to the door and yelled after him. "THANKS A LOT YOU ASSHOLE!" She sighed and looked down the other side of the hallway. "On my own again...nice," she said. She started down the hallway, looking down into Chris' journal.

She turned the corner and bumped her knee against a bench, swore, and dropped the journal. "Freaking bench...Who the hell puts a bench right there!?" she yelled. She heard a door close and jumped, bringing up her gun. "Who's there?" she asked.
There was no answer, so she carefully took a few steps forward, gun aimed at the door. "Hello?" she called out. "Leon, is that you? If so, I want you to know, lots of people at my school think I'm hot, okay? Especially in these shorts, which I happen to think I look good in! So, if you want to apologize, I'll understand," she said.

She finished ranting and realized there was nobody there, just a door. She sighed and opened it slowly, not too surprised to find another hallway. "Greeeaaat..."
She walked around for about ten minutes, until she got to what looked like an office. "Hello?" she called out.
The office chair spun around and a fat greasy man had a gun pointed at her. "Who are you!?" he asked.

Claire put her arms up, then blinked and brought them down quickly with her own gun pointed back at the man. "Who the hell are you!?" she asked.
"What...who...HEY, I ASKED FIRST!" yelled the fat man.

"Whoa, dude, calm down..."
"Alright alright, I'm sorry, you just...You just surprised me, that's all. Who are you, and why are you here?" asked the man, keeping his gun up.
"My name's C-"
"I'm Brian Irons, police chief."
"...Wow, rude much?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Damn right you are," said Claire.
The man huffed. "I will NOT sit here and be insulted in MY own office!" he said.

"Well maybe you should leave then!" said Claire.
"FINE!" yelled Irons. He stood up and headed for the door.
Claire watched as he shut the door and blinked. "He...What the hell just happened?" she asked. She lowered her gun and walked over to the desk, where the body of a girl was. "What...the...fuuuuck..." said Claire. She felt the girl's temple, but felt no pulse. Looks like you just dodged a pretty serious case of the fucked up, Claire, she thought.

She heard a small squeaky noise coming from the vent, and aimed her gun down towards it. "Who's there!? Come out now, or I'll shoot!" she said.

There was no response, so Claire fired the gun right above the vent. "I MEAN IT!" she yelled.
At the sound of the gun-shot, there was another small squeaking noise, and a tiny voice called out. "Okay! I'm coming out! Don't shoot me!"
Claire blinked, but kept the gun aimed as a small girl crawled out of the vent. She stood up, dusted her blouse, and looked up with fearful eyes, hands in the air. "Don't shoot me," she said.

"I'm so sick of asking this, but, who are you?" she asked.

"Can you put the gun down?" asked the kid.

"WHY DOES NOBODY EVER ANSWER THE STUPID QUESTION!?" yelled Claire.

The kid put her arms down. "Look, lady, maybe it's because nobody likes having a fucking gun pointed at their head. Did you ever think of that?" she said.

Claire lowered her gun, staring at the kid. "You got quite a mouth on you, sailor," she said.

"I'm not a sailor," she said.
"Well your outfit makes you look like a sailor," said Claire.

"Yeah? Well your outfit makes you look like a whore," said the kid.

Claire sighed, smiled, and tucked the gun at her belt. "I like you, kid, you don't take bullshit from anyone," she said.

"Can you not call me kid? I'm, like, twelve," said the kid. "My name's Sherry."

"Okay, Sherry, what are you doing in a police station alone?" asked Claire.

"My mom's working on some messed up virus crap, and she said I had to make my own dinner tonight. I tried calling my dad but he wasn't answering, so I just figured I'm come down here to find them," said Sherry.
Claire brought her arms in the air to stretch, pushed the body off the desk and sat on it. "Is this story gonna take long?" she asked.

"No...So, anyways, I was at home watching my favorite TV show, and it was a new episode so I didn't wanna watch it. But our TIVO's broken so when the phone rings and stuff, I can't really pause it. So there was no way I'd risk ordering a pizza and having to pause it for that..."
Sherry went on for hours, making sure to include as many useless made-up details she could. Nobody had ever stuck around long enough to pay attention to her, and this girl looked like she wouldn't just abandon a kid in a police station, so she decided to milk it for as long as she could. She got carried away, and by the time she reached the part of her arrival at the station, Claire had lied down and fallen asleep on the desk.