Disclaimer: Me no own .-.
Xx
He barely reacted when the needle entered his skin. Watching without interest as his blood filled the clear plastic tube. Pain wasn't a factor for him now, the t-virus made sure of that. Not that a tiny needle could hurt him. He was Albert freaking Wesker.
The tube filled and slowly, he pulled the syringe out of his arm.
"Well well well." Said a familiar voice.
Turning, he saw the infamous woman in red, Ada Wong. The moment he saw her, his face twisted in disgust.
"Dammit! Who let you in?" He said angrily standing up from his seat.
"Your awesome super computer. Who else?" She said crossing her arms. The hologram appeared beside her and Ada casted it a friendly smile.
"Why? Why did you let her in?" The blonde man yelled at the hologram.
"I apologise sir. She had clearance." The computer said apologetically.
"Yeah, whatever. I should de-program you for this."
"Come on, Wesker. Don't act like you're not glad to see me." She took it upon herself to pull out another chair from the table, and sat. Placing her feet, equipped with black stilettos, on it's top. The bottom of her dress rode up her legs, revealing the smooth porcelain skin underneath. Crossing her arms in front of her chest again, she smiled up at him sweetly. "You can go now, sweetie." She told the hologram. Speaking in a tone that of a mother would talk to her child. The hologram blurred before disappearing completely.
"She's not a real child, you know." Wesker said with annoyance tainting his voice.
"Oh come on. She's cute." Ada looked at the place the hologram had been just five seconds before. Sighing, Wesker took his seat again and studied the plastic tube that held his blood.
"So, uh, what's Project X?" Ada asked about five minutes later.
Wesker turned and saw her staring intently at the file with the word CLASSIFIED in big red letters stamped on it's folder.
"None of your concern." Wesker asserted as he reached over and plucked the file from her hands.
"It's something you don't want me to see. I understand," she said folding her arms again. "But it's too late."
He gave her a questioning glance, and she tapped her temple with her index finger and smiled proudly. "Photographic memory."
Wesker groaned internally and had to refrain from smacking the smart ass out of her with the file folder.
"Why does Umbrella want you to create another BOW?" Ada asked, her voice serious for the first time since she got there.
He thinks about this for a few moments. Is she trustworthy of this kind of information? Probably not. Is she double-crossing me for information to sell to a wealthy buyer? Very likely. But then again there wasn't much people alive these days to sell to.
"It's not a BOW." He answered finally.
"Then what is it?" She's interested, Wesker thought. He wasn't so sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"It's a clean up project."
"A clean up project?" She repeated.
"All those infected have to go somewhere."
Ada was quiet then. She stared at her stilettos silently, thinking. "And your blood? What's up with that whole thing?" She asked looking up at him.
Wesker leaned in close, and whispered, "enough questions."
Ada stared at him incredulously, and stood in front of him. She took a moment to assess how close she was to the blonde tyrant. Then she sat on his lap, her legs around his waist and her arms resting on his shoulders.
"Now for the reason I'm here." She said, before pressing her lips to his.
XxXxX
The sun shone in through the break in the curtain from the window. Shining directly into her eyes. It wakes her from a great dreamless sleep, and she stares at the curtain covered window for a long time. It felt like it had been such a long time since she actually saw the sun, and even though she didn't actually see it now, she knew it was there. Promising a new day in a world where death was as normal as breathing.
Claire took a look at her surroundings. She was laying on a sofa, a red cotton blanket draped over her, and a small pillow beneath her head. There was a small coffee table across from her with numerous empty medicine bottles and newspaper clippings. She pushed the blacket off her body and sat up. Claire scanned the room before standing. A little wobbly and unbalanced, but she steadied herself and walked around. The walls were a pasty white and the floor was filthy hardwood. The apartment was small. There was a small kitchenette connected to the small livingroom where she woke up. There was a small hallway that led to a door with another door on the left side of it. She walked down the short hallway and pushed the door in front of her open. Her eyes widened at the sight that greeted her. Leon. Shirtless. Looking into the mirror. Holding an electric shaver to his face. "What are you doing?" She asked.
He slightly jumped when he heard her voice and looked at her in suprise. He smiled and pressed a button on the side of the shaver. Claire hadn't even noticed the buzzing sound until it was silent. "Shaving." His tone was nonchalant, simple, and he went back to shaving. The annoying buzzing filling the air again.
Now, you must understand that when the world is filled with walking dead people, silence is the loudest noise. And right now, the loudest thing to Claire was that damn shaver. It invaded her ears and pierced her brain like sharp knives without mercy. "Leon?"
"Yeah?" He asked, his chin raised high as he got the stubble under his chin.
"Turn. That. Damn. Thing. Off!" Claire said in a tone that was far from calm. Leon stared at her in bewilderment, before pushing the switch and shutting the shaver off.
"Thanks," she said, quietly rubbing her temples with her forefingers. "I just got the weirdest headache."
"That's because you haven't eaten anything." He grabbed his shirt that hung from the doorhandle and walked past her. Claire followed him into the kitchen and sat in one of the two chairs that took place on either side of a very small white table. He pulled on his shirt, (which Claire hated because she loved his abs,) before looking through the cabinets. Leon found a medium sized metal can with an extremely faded label. He opened one of the drawers and took out a can opener. After opening the can, he brought it to his nose and sniffed. He took a long look at it's contents before handing it to Claire. "Spaghetti and meatballs. I think." He reached inside the drawer again and pulled out a suprisingly shiny spoon, and held it out for her.
"Thanks." She said as she took it from him. Using the utensil, she poked at the spaghetti suspicously. "Is Kmart okay?"
"Yeah, she's asleep. Again." Leon leaned on the kitchen counter and stared at his very worn out boots.
"How long have we been here?" Claire decided to take the plunge, and stuff a spoonful of cold spaghetti in her mouth. Once she got over it's coldness, she chewed hungrily.
"Two-maybe three- days. You were asleep for most of it. You must've been pretty exausted."
"I was." She ate a meatball.
"You're okay now, right?" He asked concerned, looking up at her.
"Uh huh." She finished the whole can, and out of habit, her throat demanded to be quenched. "Is there water?"
"Left over from what we already had." Leon took a dirty plastic canteen filled two thirds of the way with crystal clear water. He handed it to her and cracked a half smile.
XxXxX
Alice sat, perched on the railing as she stared out at the never ending sea. After all the crap that has happened that left the Earth an empty wasteland filled with bloodthirsty monsters, the only thing that went unphased was the sea. Though gray and more mysterious than it was years ago. The water beneath her crashed againt the wood that made up the pier, sending spray up in the cold salty air. It was a moments peace that Alice seemed to enjoy.
Chris disappeared inside the hull of a large, expensive looking yacht with Nat following close behind. "You haven't been complaining about that gun shot since the last time we stopped." Chris said as he searched the cabinents in the built in kitchen.
"Well," said Nat, making himself comfortable by sitting on the counter. "I don't see how whining about it helps. Unless you'd rather have me do that." Nat then grabbed his shoulder and rocked back in forth in mock-pain. "Ow! It hurts so bad! Ow! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel! The Virgin Mary is calling my name!" Gasping, he held out his hand in front of him as if reaching for something. "Jesus?"
"Shut the hell up, Nat." Chris said before glimpsing Nat's shoulder. Chris grabbed his shoulder and ripped the hem of his filthy shirt to expose the skin there. Perfect. Healed. As if nothing had ever happened.
"When did it heal?" Chris asked.
Nat pushed his hand away, "couple hours back."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't think it was that important to you. I don't need you kissing every boo-boo I get." Nat said annoyed. "Besides, what does it matter anyway?"
"If Alice finds out you are-" he stopped, looking for the right words. "Like him. She'll kill you."
"But she's like him."
"She isn't his bastard son."
This seemed to shut Nat up. He jumped off the counter and was up the stairs and on the deck of the yacht.
Leaning on the rail, he took a deep intake of breath. He looked up at the graying sky and exhaled. Chris had been talking about his father. His arrogant, abusive, abscent father.
Xx
Carlos leaned on the railing, next to Alice, and stared out at the water. Here, they had a perfect view of the seemingly never-ending sea. Carlos vaguely wondered if there was anything alive beneath it's glassy surface.
"When I was little, my dad would take me sailing." Alice said, breaking the silence he hadn't even noticed was between them. "He had this huge boat with a sail." Her voice was low and seemed like she was in a far away place in her head. "He would teach me how to set the sail and how to tie the boat to the dock in the marina. Doesn't seem like much now but, I miss that. Alot."
Carlos takes a glance at Alice, she's still staring out at the water. Like she's seeing something amazing that he can't quite point out. He looks back out at the water.
"We can leave this place, you know. Take a boat, sail off to Neverland." He says it with a smile and she turns her head to look at him, and she's smiling too.
"But Peter, I don't know how to fly."
"I can show you." He whispered, his brown eyes meeting her blue.
Turning away from him and back out to the water, she sighed.
"We can't. You know that. We can't leave Claire and the others. If they're still alive."
He nods slowly.
"I wish we could, though. With everyone, just leave all this behind." Alice takes one last look at the water, takes in another breath of the crisp ocean air, and turns on the rail. Carlos grabbed her waist and helped her down. His hands lingered on her waist, and her hands rested on his arms. Moving her hands up and down slowly, feeling the muscles beneath his skin. "All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again."
"I'll teach you to jump on the wings back, and away we'll go." He said, touching her cheek.
"Peter, I should like to give you a kiss." She whispered, holding him by the shoulders now. Carlos stared at her a moment too long before bringing his face close to hers, and catching her lips with his.
It had only been, what? Two days since they last kissed, but those two days felt like two years and her lips ached from not being attached to his.
It wasn't a perfect kiss. Not that kind of Hollywood mush you would see in a movie, but it was enough. Kind of sloppy and raw, like a fourteen year old's first kiss, but they soon got into a steady rhythm, and they looked like pros.
She wasn't sure when, but she soon found herself pressed between the rail and him, with little personal bubble space. Alice wasn't the type of person to swoon over something as simple as a kiss, but was her stomache fluttering? Yes, yes it was.
Her body begged for attention. Wishing to be touched, scratched, and bit. Without involving a dead cannibal with the possible outcome of death.
Carlos fingered the hem of her thin shirt with one hand, while his other disappeared beneath the fabric, snaking up the skin of her back.
Alice went rigid as she pulled away from him. A million goosebumps settled on her arms and back. All the while seeming to scream 'no! We want Carlos!'
"What's wrong?" Carlos asked. Wondering if he did something wrong.
Alice looked down at her dirty, way past worn out sneakers as she rubbed her arms. Four years of mutated virus DNA and she gets turned off by the cold. "It's cold out here," she muttered embarresed. Smirking, Carlos pulled her into his arms, in an attempt to warm her up some, before kissing her hair.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chris walking towards them.
"The sun is setting, we should stay in one of the boats tonight." Chris said setting the rifle in his hands on his shoulder. Carlos looks up at the sky, noticing for the first time the sky's transition from steely gray to a purplish blue. "Um, was I interrupting something?" Chris asked noticing the two's embrace.
"No." Alice and Carlos said awkwardly in unison as they pushed away from eachother.
XxXxX
Author's Note: Please don't hate me :( Been busy lately. (that was a lie, btw) I hope you guys liked this chapter. Put a lot of thought into it. Oh and excuse the Peter Pan references. I was in a very Peter Panish mood when I wrote that part. Plus I feel like a douche for taking so long. Anyways, here's a hint for the next chapter: drunk at a Christmas party. I can't wait to see the crazy ideas you'll have with that :) Please review!