Chapter Two
"When you're down, it's a long way up; when you're up, it's a long way down. It's all the same thing. No new tale to tell." Blaqk Audio – No New Tale To Tell
December 1996
She chuckles softly to herself and current situation. She's leaning against her car, trapped between the vehicle and her Captain.
A rock and a hard place.
"Did it ever occur to you that our co-workers could stumble upon us at any time?" She asks, leaning back on her hands against the hood of the red Mustang. She's not worried and doesn't even bother to fake it. He tilts his head, and that shadow of a smirk is just barely pulling at the corners of his lips.
Lips that had been on hers just moments before.
"Did it ever occur to you that I don't care?" He counters, taking a step back and allowing her more space to straighten up.
They're silent when they hear the door to Jay's Bar open and raucous laughter following. Wesker watches her dark eyes glitter in the low light of the parking lot as she studies the figures; making sure they're not the people she doesn't want to catch them.
Satisfied the two men aren't her co-workers; she directs her attention back to the blonde. "You know if we do what I'm thinking we'll do; it's a huge breach of ethics?" She lays out, somewhat of a question. Wesker smiles at this. "And who will tell on us?" He poses the question, knowing neither of them would.
He leans closer, just a little bit. She'll learn he's quite the tease.
Mary leans up in turn; pressing the length of her body against him; a sly smile curling her lips. "Your place or mine?" That short whisper carries so much promise. "Mine." He answers; suddenly, if only for a moment, it seems the coldness is gone from his voice.
Or maybe it's just her imagination.
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Brett feels like he's won the lottery. He's feeling good, holiday season is upon the city, he's doing well with his job, he's found good friends in his teammates and he's dancing with a beautiful woman. 'Why did I avoid bars for so long?' He wonders, before quickly refocusing on Jill as she twists and writhes to the heavy bass beat in front of him.
They don't care that their team (what's left of them at this hour) can see them. Brett doesn't care that Chris is drunkenly and dejectedly glaring in his direction. Jill doesn't care that their Captain could catch them when he comes back. (Where did he go again?)
Hands become braver; bodies get closer, the music grows louder. They forget there's a crowd of people dancing around them.
When their lips meet, they can't even hear the music.
It's Brett who breaks the kiss; feeling as though he's overstepped some invisible line.
It's Jill who pulls him back; both hands fisted in his partially unbuttoned uniform shirt.
When they part again; Jill's keen eyes look behind them. Barry and Joseph aren't paying attention and Chris looks half-asleep, his upper body laying on the bar. Jill leans up on her toes, her lips just brushing Brett's ear. "Let's get out of here."
Brett's eyes widen in momentary surprise; at her forwardness and at the words that pass from his lips next. "Your place or mine?"
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June 1996
He watches his opponent. Well, she's not really his opponent. He's teaching her how to fight. Sort of.
She's a fast learner.
Brett narrowly dodges a right hook, and when he steps back; she throws out a leg and he stumbles. Not falling, of course; but close enough.
The rebellious little sister of the team smirks and holds out her hands in a 'So, how was that?' motion. He manages a soft chuckle. Her behavior reminds him of her background. She wants to be praised for doing well. 'Who doesn't?' He thinks to himself.
"That was good. I didn't expect the leg." He replies, smiling at his friend's own growing smile.
"Your form is sloppy." Another voice joins in, echoing ominously in the gym. Their heads turn and they're met with blonde hair and black shades. Brett looks to his partner; sees her brows knit together as she tries to contain her disappointment. She opens her mouth, but immediately bites her lip and remains silent, looking down at her feet.
"Captain, she's learning fast. I think she's improving with every fight." Brett defends in a polite manner, knowing all too well how it felt to be in her position. Mary gives him a small smile; tilting her head just enough for him to see. 'Thank you' she mouths.
"Don't baby her." Wesker's voice cuts through the air like a scythe. He's standing before them now; Brett imagines his presence is like a weight pushing down on both of them.
The weight of his expectations.
"I hired you because of your skill. You are what I was looking for." He says to Brett, nothing flattering about his tone. It just was. Brett nods, unsure what else to do or say in the face of that comment. He rounds on Mary next and Brett can almost feel her resolve leaving her as her shoulders flinch.
Nevertheless, she raises her head and meets Wesker's gaze square on. Her jaw is clenched hard enough that Brett can see the chords in her neck straining. But she doesn't crumble under his critical gaze; doesn't dare cry or snap in front of him.
"And I hired you because you showed promise. You will not make me look like a fool by proving my decision was a bad one." Nothing but cold.
Sometimes, Brett thought that there was nothing inside his Captain. Nothing warm or friendly or human. In the short time he'd known Wesker; the man's emptiness, his lack of emotion greatly unsettled him.
Wesker tilts his head. "Do you understand?" He asks, daring her to speak. Brett imagines if her voice cracks or shakes Wesker will never let her forget it.
"Yes sir."
Brett allows himself a small smile; her voice is steady and strong.
And it's then he realizes what has just happened. Wesker wasn't picking at her; wasn't trying to be, for lack of a better word, mean. He's testing her. Brett thinks she's passed.
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Author's Note:
And here's chapter two! Less going on and shorter. We don't know if it's going to stay like this or not; this story's just like our big experimental project. Woot! Thanks for reading!