His fingertips trailed down the skin at her lower back, and then moved back up to her neck. She could feel every breath he exhaled on her bare shoulder. She kept her back to him, but that did not shield her from the fact that she had given Wesker her most precious treasure. "Will you let me go?" she asked, giving into the caresses. He was quiet as he had been the night before. There were hardly any vocal exchanges between both parties, but there was no need for words. The need to feel his body against hers had won, and she had given herself to him completely.

When she awoke from her slumber, she found that he had still been with her. He ran his lips from her ear to the nape of her neck, and then that connection she felt before returned. It wasn't love. It wasn't even desire. All she knew was that her body relied on his presence, and it was only him that could give her comfort. She let his hands roam over her body, and she would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the touch. He slowly undressed her, but his mouth never left her skin.

It was the most gentle he had ever been with her, and she had a sneaking suspicion she was the only one to feel such caresses. During, her body had felt whole, and after, she felt complete. The virus in her urged her to stay close to him, and she was glad that he continued to stay by her. "Why do you insist on keeping me here?" she asked again. "You've finished your tests, haven't you? I know you probably don't intend on giving me an antidote, so please... just let me die."

"I can't do that, dear heart," he said to her, holding her. "Tell me, would you just go back to your brother and to Kennedy? Are you just going to leave just to die in their arms?"

Claire shook her head, burrowing further into her pillow. "No... I don't want them to see me like this. I can go somewhere, anywhere far away. No one will know." And she meant every word. She couldn't bear to see Chris' face above her, mourning her. She couldn't do that to him.

"Then what is so wrong about spending the rest of your days with an enemy?" Wesker asked.

She sniffed, trying to keep her emotions stable. She turned in his arms to face him. Usually, she couldn't read his face. Everything about him was a secret. His motives, his agendas, his mind was well guarded, but since she had come here, he was slowly opening up to her. It could be trap; hell, it was mostly likely a corner he was backing her into. But there something that she saw now, that made her doubt he meant her harm. He probably still intended to destroy his enemies, destroy her brother, and become the most powerful man in the world, but he wouldn't harm her. "I won't be apart of your destructive plans. I can't."

"I wouldn't ask you to, Claire," he said, pressing forward to capture her in another kiss. He moved over her, and she was his to claim once more.

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"Yes!" cried Jill, causing everyone to jump up in alarm. It taken more than calling in a favor to get the information she needed. It wasn't easy hacking in the system, but all of her hard work had paid off. She waited for a few pictures to print, impatiently tapping her fingers on the desk. Once the last black and white photo had been spit out from the printer, she ran down the stairs, nearly colliding into whom she considered Becca's boyfriend. "Sorry, Billy," she said nervously. She jumped down the last few steps, running straight into Chris' arms.

It was always adorable to see such a puzzled look on his face. Chris always prided himself on the leader of the Anti-Umbrella group, and it was in the tiny boyish moments he had that made her fall for him over again. She was grateful that he was able to keep their relationship and their work separate, knowing full well that if he showed favoritism towards her, he might jeopardize their mission. At the same time, he showed her a great deal of affection whenever he could.

"Whoa!" he said in surprise, instinctively placing his hands on her hips. "What's got you riled up?"

"Do you or do you not love me?" she asked excitedly with a large victorious smile. She pushed away from him and set the photos down on the dining table for everyone to see. "You need to see these." From the opposite side of the table, she grabbed a pair of combat knives and shoved them into her boots.

"Was that a rhetorical question?" Chris asked. Jill ignored him, and pushed a packet of papers in his face. There wasn't a moment to lose. The confirmation she received minutes ago was enough to have the team packing and ready for departure. She turned her back on him again and began grabbing ammo and a tac vest.

"Leon, get ready to roll!" she shouted outside from the kitchen window. "Tell me what you see?" Jill called out over her shoulder to Chris. She reached for her holsters and put them on, checking her guns for ammo.

"Where are we going?" Leon asked, coming into the living room. Leon didn't bother looking at her like a crazy woman preparing for war. He began doing the same, grabbing weapons and ammo. She was grateful that one of the guys was reading her mind. Leon and her weren't very close, but she respected him greatly. Leon was one of the few survivors of Raccoon City, and it was thanks to his help that Claire had made it out of the city before it was destroyed. He had helped a great deal with their team, and he always gave one hundred and ten percent. Well, if her hunch was right, he was going to have to pitch in a hundred and fifty percent for this round.

"They look like flight numbers," Chris said, turning over the pages. "Hey, what, Jill what are you doing?" He tried to stop her when he saw her throwing a few more guns into a travel pack.

"Look at the number I circled," Jill said, not missing a beat, shrugging him off. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed some sandwiches and bottles of water.

"Flight 7834, from Paris," Chris said, still not making the connection.

"And now look at the photos that I just happened to "borrow" from the airport security from Paris thanks to our friends in France," Jill smiled, kicking the refrigerator door closed with her toes.

Rebecca made an appearance, yawning. "What's going on?"

Jill tossed the unsuspecting girl her backpack. "Get ready to go, Chambers. We got work to do."

Becca knew that tone in her voice, and the sleep was washed from the girl's face. She and Billy began packing whatever they could.

Chris set down the packet of flight numbers and looked down at the blurry black and white photos. "Jesus..." he gasped, leaning closer as though he was making sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Jill patted him on the shoulder when she joined him at the table. "That's right," she said, pointing toward two figures in the photos. "That's Wesker, and that's Claire." She moved that particular photo aside, and pointed to one of the private jets that they had entered. "Look at the wing. 7834."

"Claire," Chris breathed. In a matter of minutes, he had gather all of his gear, moving faster than she had ever seen him.

Becca jumped up and down with joy, hardly able to contain her happiness. "So that means..."

Jill popped in a fresh clip into her beloved Desert Eagle. "That's right. We're headed for Battle Mountain Airport in Nevada."

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AN: Short, I know. But the idea came, and I needed to get it down in a document. I'm throwing out the chapters as I'm writing them, but I do promise the next one will be longer than this. Thank you to everyone who is reading. I hope you are enjoying the ride.

Kris