Happy 2021 everybody! LOL

My apologies for the terrible delay. I was quite busy with work and real life, and in December I somehow agreed to participate in a Secret Santa Cleon gift exchange hahaha

This chapter was supposed to be twice as long, but I decided to split it to have something to deliver because I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. I hope you don't find it too boring, because it feels like a big fat filler chapter... and it probably is hahaha

As usual, many thanks to you for reading, following and reviewing. You're amazing and I hope you're all doing well these days.

Now, ready for some incestfield romance?

Please enjoy!

Xaori

Better

Her back was aching from shifting positions too often. With her hands tightly placed around the cup of steaming coffee —the third one that afternoon— Claire let her feet engage in the nervous tapping of the floor below and wished she hadn't come fifteen minutes early to their appointment, or that Leon, for once in his life, wouldn't be ridiculously late. The music was playing softly, but melted into the sound of forks against plates and the distant chatter of the two other customers, it turned into a deafening noise that amplified as it reverberated on the cold black and white tiles of the diner floor.

The redhead stared into the half empty cup, eyeing her reflection on the surface of the black fluid and the soft smile she was wearing on her lips. Even agitated as she currently was, she couldn't just wipe that smile off her face, and she knew that it was Chris' magical effect on her. Her offer to make him feel better had been heartfelt and sincere, but her brother wasn't the only one who had benefited from that condition, as she herself had never felt so right about herself and her feelings. Happy. For the first time in her life, she was happy, and all the reasons to feel self-conscious or ashamed had simply stopped existing.

It had been weird at first, to wake up next to the man she loved, to shower without closing the bathroom door and to kiss each other goodbye on the lips before heading to work in the morning. The first time they had nearly smashed their heads together out of pure nervousness. Claire giggled at the thought. Now, three weeks later, they had somehow gotten used to it and figured out how to angle their heads to the side when they approached each other's face in a hurry.

It had been Monday when Chris and she had agreed to give themselves a try. On Tuesday afternoon, Claire had packed her bags and moved back in with him, and everything was, once more, as it had used to be. They were two siblings sharing their life, with the tiny, unimportant difference that they were also sharing the bed now.

The sex was incredible. Like, really, really mind-blowing. Not that I hadn't had good sex before, but, you know… and don't laugh at me… when you're in love with the other, it gets better. It is as though heart, mind and body are suddenly on the same wavelength.

We talked a lot about it. It was exciting to discover how Chris likes it, after I had often wondered what he would be into, aside from all the things I had heard him do with Jill, I mean. He's really into oral sex, both ways. Hah! Yeah, eventually, he did get to eat me out. Good thing I was prepared for it.

He also likes it unplanned and spontaneous. So you imagine how I often ended up bent over the backrest of the couch or with my ass sat on the kitchen counter.

Maybe this is why he and Jill went onto that balcony at the RPD party in '97. He saw her and couldn't resist the temptation, I guess. The exhibitionism, though? That's not him. No. Jill was… Jill is the one who likes doing it in public places.

Yeah.

Anyway, that's probably enough information. Where was I?

Oh, right. There was that promise I had made.

Leon didn't know about them yet. Technically, Leon was never going to know about them, but about the man she had started seeing and who had become the reason why she couldn't let her friendship with the agent interfere ever again. A tentative sigh left her lips and slipped into the cup of coffee. They had never been serious, knowing that their benefits were bound to end someday, but even so she felt as though she was breaking up with him.

Her heart began to hammer in her chest when the door to the coffee shop opened and the blond pushed his head inside.

"Hey Claire," he greeted her with a bright smile and kissed her on the cheek. He was such a good man, she thought, watching him as he ordered coffee. Clever, handsome and kind, he deserved all the good in the world, and it was such a shame that he was wasting his time chasing the woman in red that had stolen his heart.

"It's so good to see you," he said as the waitress walked his order into the kitchen. "How have you been?"

She nodded eagerly, underlining her words about well-being and a lot of work.

"So, what takes you to Washington?"

The intense smell of his black, caramel-like Espresso coffee made her wrinkle her nose. He had come back from his mission in Europe with his taste completely changed and he hadn't recovered ever since.

"I was tired of waiting for you to come to New York someday," she said with a shrug. "There's something I need to tell you and I didn't want to do it on the phone."

He had barely brought the cup to his lips when his eyebrows jumped up, making him look like a caricature of a comic figure.

"What's wrong?"

Oh, it was so amusing to see how his look dropped to the height of her belly, jumping from her body to the drink she was having, only to check if she could possibly be informing him about an unwanted pregnancy that might, in any way, be related to him . She laughed.

"I don't think it's what you're expecting right now," she replied, letting her lip twitch awkwardly, and Leon showed some sort of relief.

Putting the cup down, he leaned back in the seat and crossed his arms in front of his chest. After the initial shock, he was now able to smile in expectation.

"I'm all ears."

Hesitation was tugging on all of her heart strings. Leon had always been there for her, helping her even when she didn't deserve it, and she felt like she was betraying him after all the years of support, friendship and love.

It was the happiest and hardest thing she'd ever said.

"I'm seeing someone."

A couple of blinks were the only motion to be seen on his face, as though he was waiting for more information on the subject. As Claire failed to provide such, his eyebrows shot a little farther up.

"I assume you wouldn't tell me about it if it wasn't something serious," he huffed and leaned forth to prop his chin up on the back of his hand.

"Kind of," Claire whispered as her head moved into a shy nod, cautiously watching her friend's face.

She hadn't particularly expected him to cry, admittedly, but she had silently hoped he would be more affected than the sincere, bright smile on his face suggested.

"Claire, that's great to hear!" he exclaimed cheerfully as he closed his hands around the tiny cup. "Who is the lucky one?"

She must have made an incredibly ridiculous face of hesitation, as Leon laughed shortly after she had deadpanned, unsure what to tell him about the secret new man in her life. The blond, observative and unimpressed by rumors and gossip, seemed to understand and gave in rather quickly.

"Oh, I see. Let me guess," he mumbled as he leaned back over the table to keep his voice low. "Your brother hates him and he wouldn't approve."

Now it was Claire's turn to laugh. Her friend couldn't know how far he was from the truth about her boyfriend, although Chris had indeed proven to have issues with excessive self-loathing.

"Something like that, yes," she said under the effect of giggles. Leon leaned back in the seat and nodded.

"I see," he replied and lifted his hands in defense. "Okay. I won't ask questions. But you should really tell your brother that you're a grown-up and that you can date whoever you want." After another short smirk he cocked his head to the side and added, "Is it the one you wanted?"

Her eyes opened wide, a hint of excited innocence flashing up in them as they darted at him. The smile was, apparently, just too obvious for anyone not to see it. She nodded.

"Yes."

The blond laughed, showing his upper row of perfect teeth.

"I'm really happy for you."

Yes, he was. She could see in the twinkle of his eyes that he was truly happy for her, and it just made her feel worse.

"I hope you find happiness for yourself, too," she whispered and stretched her hand over the table surface. He took it, entwining their fingers in a grip full of complicity.

"Thank you."

Despite the honesty in their words, they both knew that it wasn't that easy for him either.

I keep good memories of summer. The first ten weeks of our relationship went by smoothly, with only the two of us enjoying ourselves and our time together. Chris' initial fears about getting caught by neighbors or colleagues soon dissipated. Obviously, everybody seemed to find it absolutely fine that we had moved back in together and even praised the decision as the rent was just so expensive, and there was no need to pay a rent on our own if we were both single. I think one of the neighbors once even said that we could always check into a hotel room if we needed privacy.

Everything in this world is reduced to sex, isn't it?

The week had been endless, stuffed with meetings, neverending reports, hard negotiations and more than one deception. The team they had sent to Africa had recently sent the first report since their arrival, though nothing seemed to point at an imminent threat, some of the information was downright disturbing. So much so that Neil had decided to fly to the zone himself to check the situation personally, and he had asked Claire to join him.

On top of that, Chris had been away for two weeks, deployed to South America to inspect a stranded freighter after local authorities had reported the presence of B.O.W.s on it. Communication wasn't easy when he was abroad, and the fact that the silence was imposed by their job and not the result of a fight wasn't making it any easier. So, she had basically spent her days working, in hope it would help her deal with the wait for a notification from her brother. How happy had she been when she'd come home on Friday afternoon to find Chris had come back home, right on time to come with her to Moira's college send-off party the following day. He was sleeping peacefully in the bed they shared, nuzzling her pillow like a stuffed animal. She'd decided to let him rest as much as possible, so she had quickly made dinner before sneaking back into the bedroom. A faint kiss on the temple was usually enough to tickle him awake, but this time he seemed to be too tired to just react to the first touch. Chris didn't begin to shift until she lay down beside him and pressed her lips onto his.

"Hey," she whispered into the kiss, caressing his jaw with the back of her fingers. "I'm so happy to see you. Dinner's ready. You hungry?"

Chris limited his reaction to a low grunt and a weak smirk as his right hand slid to her leg and along her left thigh. His eyes remained closed, but he was far from being asleep.

"I missed you," he mumbled as he rolled closer to her and blindly pressed his lips onto hers. She chuckled.

"I missed you too. How was the-"

She didn't get to finish the question, as Chris willed to steal all her words and turn them into moans. He caught her mouth with his again, gently suckling her lower lip between his teeth and giving it a stroke of his tongue. She gave in without resistance, always longing for his touch on herself and most often rewarded with more than she'd bargained for. That night was no different, as Chris didn't seem to care much for dinner, craving other flavors.

The first breath she exhaled when he let go of her tongue sounded pretty much like an Oh God , and it only grew more severe when her brother's hand found the hem of her shirt and slipped underneath. Claire automatically searched for his mouth again, savoring the need and desire in the kiss as he hastily pushed her shirt up. They left each other's mouth before he freed her from the strings of the garment and the bra, covering her with the warmth of his palms afterwards and leaving her burning with arousal. She gasped his name and arched her back as Chris' tongue trailed over her belly and he buried her navel under dozens of humid kisses. Chris proceeded to unzip her jeans, making her cry out in anticipation, jerking on pants and underwear until they came off and he had her exposed, like on a golden tray, waiting for him, and he launched her one of those looks that always made her shiver.

Hands on her knees, he pushed her legs open and Claire's mouth went dry instantly. Knowing perfectly what was coming next, she reached for the pillow on her right and, working it into a roll, she placed it under her head. She'd been timid and hesitant whenever Leon would give her oral sex, often covering her face so she wouldn't have to see his head between her thighs. With Chris, though, she wanted to see it all, every move of his face, every expression. She wanted to stare bluntly, with no discretion. She wanted him to know she was staring and she wanted him to enjoy it. If she was going to be the stage of his performance, she goddamn wanted to be the spectator as well.

Stubborn and relentless, Chris' fingers crawled along the downside of her thighs as his mouth hovered over her mound. A stream of hot, moist breath was sent out to tease her, to make the rest of her body shudder and itch with cold, and strong spasms ran through Claire's legs. He lowered his teeth into her flesh — too gently to hurt her, too slowly to call it anything but plain torture. Claire heard her own scream of pleasure and agony and it startled her. She moved like a fish out of water, and she felt like one as well, suffocating and in need.

"Chris," she breathed, urging, begging, hoping to withstand. "Please."

Fortunately, the older brother was more than willing to please.

He started off with a brush of lips, nipping on her like on an ice-cream cone, only using his tongue to tickle more arousal into her. He groaned beautifully when Claire reached for his head and raked her fingers through his hair, gently pushing him against her. She loved the feeling of his mouth covering her spot, the gentle bites he gave her between one stroke of his tongue and the next, the scratching sensation of his beard on her skin, and the sound he made when he drank from her.

His tongue was agile, ruthless and skilled, seeking a quick release for her and with good chances to achieve it. Her breasts became the target of his next assault, when Chris' hands crawled up to cup them, squeeze them, to play with her nipples and roll them between his fingertips until she squeaked and moaned and purred in pleasure. She placed her palm onto the back of his hand as he massaged her breast, encouraging him to continue, telling him how much she loved it, reminding him how much she loved him .

The sound of suckling collided with another moan from Claire. The gasps that slipped off her lips announced the proximity of the desired climax, the release of tension she needed so desperately, the reward they were both after. Something in the way she buckled must have told Chris how close she was, because his grasp around her thighs tightened and the game of teeth and strokes of tongues turned more intense, playful. Merely a minute later, the little remaining edginess escaped her body, leaving nothing but the filling warmth of pleasure lingering in her body. Chris opened his eyes and looked at her, and it was the last impulse needed to push her orgasm out into the night in the shape of a deep-throated scream.

She curled for an eternity, enjoying the burning comfort on every inch of all her limbs. Chris persisted, keeping his mouth on her until she finally, finally finished. Once her moans turned into laughter and he was certain she was done coming , he released her legs and sat upright, wiping her taste off of his face and showing off the proud smile he wore underneath.

"Better?" he asked and made her frown.

"What do you mean?" Claire wearily rolled onto her elbows and looked at him from heavy lidded eyes. Chris laughed.

"You sounded stressed out," his clarification left her surprised. "I thought you needed to release tension."

He knew her so well, Claire thought in satisfaction and stretched to reach his mouth as Chris bent down to meet hers.

"Much better, thank you," she whispered into the kiss as her arms slung seductively around his torso to press herself against him.

The brother chuckled, though, and cupped her chin in a soothing manner.

"Shhh, not now," he mumbled and stopped her hands on their way to unbuckle his belt. "We have all night, baby." And with his arms still holding her, he climbed off the bed. "What's for dinner?"

When they were together, they used to have dinner in the shine of the candlelight, reviving the feeling of protectiveness of their first night of romance. So did they that Friday night. Dinner was the time of the day they shared the news of the past hours, what they had done at work and who they had spoken to.

"You're not going to Africa, Claire."

It didn't usually end in the displeased tone Chris was giving her upon learning about her upcoming trip. She snickered.

"What do you mean?" She shrugged and shook her head, ridiculing the situation. "Of course, I'm going."

The fork met the plate with a loud clunk and the thoroughly seasoned chicken breast and green salad seemed to jump under the impact. Chris grunted.

"Africa is a dangerous territory, Claire, far beyond anything that clown of a bioterror expert can be sensing."

I know, I know. I had promised Neil not to tell Chris about his gut feeling, but that was before we'd started our relationship. Also, I always considered that Terra Save and the B.S.A.A. needed to cooperate more closely.

Anyway, Chris had shrugged it off. They had placed spies in Africa themselves, he'd said, but he'd agreed to listen carefully to any intel I could provide him off the record.

Claire rolled her eyes annoyedly, considering that Chris Redfield wasn't the right person to tell anyone not to get themselves into trouble. She poked a piece of chicken with her fork.

"I'll be fine, Chris. This is just a simple inspection and I'm more than prepared for anything."

He grunted in response, obviously displeased by the answer his sister was giving him, and shoved the plate away.

"Listen," he said, and probably hoped to sound convincing. "I know you are more prepared than anyone in Terra Save, but Kijuju is currently considered a ticking time bomb. They expect the Civil War there to revive anytime."

Claire snorted. She had known Chris wouldn't have applauded her choice to follow Fisher to Africa, but she hadn't believed that he would… Oh, what was she even thinking? Of course she had believed, foreseen even, that he would oppose with all his power. It was his undying will to keep her safe; the same will that had driven him to Europe without telling her a word in 1998 and that had led him to rescue her from the fangs of Alexia Ashford. It was the same conviction that had always kept her from becoming part of the B.S.A.A.

"I know that, Chris, and that is exactly why we want to see how we can help. What if someone is smuggling bioweapons into the zone, huh?"

She watched his jaw clench in utter irritation, knowing that she was hitting a raw nerve.

"Then the B.S.A.A. will figure that out and take care of it, Claire." Running a hand over his forehead, he exhaled. "I don't even know why Fisher needs to play the hero and check on that land himself. We have plenty of spies in the area."

The tension was tightening and the temperature seemed to rise, announcing the upcoming fight. Yes, even the candle seemed to flicker more wildly. Claire blew out a breath.

"Well, obviously because he trusts you as much as you trust him."

He blew his anger out through wide nostrils.

"Anyway, he can do whatever he wants, but he will have to take someone else on that trip."

His eyes were flashing with anger as he tried to impose his will. There was only one little detail he had forgotten about, and he was the last man on Earth who should forget what it means to argue with a Redfield. Holding his ice-cold gaze, Claire chose a tone too loud when she responded, "You're not the one who decides that!"

He jumped up, throwing the chair over, but neither of them seemed to react to the sound. They only exchanged challenging looks.

"This is not a game, Claire. What's going on there is war!" She could hear how hard he tried to sound calm and reasonable, but the fire burnt loud and clear in his voice. "I know that you want to help, but better limit yourself to providing humanitarian aid where there is a real biohazard threat and leave the detective games to others."

What the fuck was he even talking about? Claire snorted in offense.

"Have you seen what's going on there? Have you seen the footage? The sacrifice of animals?" She got up and put her hands on her hips in an aggressively defensive pose.

Chris shrugged exaggeratedly, a ridiculing grimace spread over his face.

"There are creepy cults everywhere on the planet, Claire!"

She raged in anger. How could he, out of all the men on Earth, be so fucking blind-eyed?

"Like the one Leon encountered in Spain, you mean?"

Whether it was her repeated objection or the mention of the agent wasn't clear, but her last words put an animal scowl on his face. Chris slammed his palm onto the table and made her eyebrows jump in surprise.

"You're not going to Africa, Claire. End of discussion." A nasty finger pointed at her as he spoke, something that only tickled the redhead's anger awake.

"End of …? You fucking kidding me?" She howled, taking a step forward to show her brother that she was more than ready to fight him. "You can't tell me what to do, Christopher! I may be letting you fuck my ass but it doesn't mean you own it."

Those words left him baffled for a second, and she used the chance to grab the plates and start walking into the kitchen, leaving him fuming alone.

"We're not done here yet," he howled when she slipped around the corner and walked towards the bedroom on hasty tip toes.

"You just said we are," she yelled back, giving him a challenging glare before slamming the door shut from the inside.

She remained close to the door for a minute, listening carefully to the moves on the other side. She prayed he would follow her, that he would come and say he was sorry for being a sexist douchebag. She would tell him she was still mad, and he would admit the same, and they would have hard and sweaty makeup sex, because that was how things worked in a perfect world.

But the world showed, once more, that it wouldn't be perfect for her.

When she grew tired of waiting for Chris to come and apologize, she turned around and walked to the bed, slipping under the covers to hide from the judging outer world.

He had raised her to become strong and independent, so no one would ever get to tell her what to do. Unfortunately for him, he was no exception.

It was one of those moments you realized you were doomed by just opening your eyes. When Claire woke up after a restless night and met the distressing numbers of the alarm clock, she almost forgot the happenings of the night before, because all the threats, the attempted impositions and insulting words were nothing compared to what Moira would do to them if they missed her send-off party. Claire swung her feet out of the bed and dashed out of the bedroom.

Chris was snoring on the couch, covered with a thin throw blanket and in a pose that looked utterly painful. That didn't cause enough pity in her not to wake him in the least gentle way, though.

"Get up! Our plane!" She howled as she punched his upper arm, and Chris jumped automatically into a combat pose.

"Fuck!" He hissed upon realizing what time it was and what critical situation they were in, and he quickly sprinted into the bedroom to change.

There was barely time for breakfast, no time for a shower, and both Redfields were still chewing their piece of toast when Claire ripped the door open.

"I drive," she said when Chris attempted to grab the car keys from her hand, and let him know that their argument from the previous night was far from being over.

The ride was as silent as it was fast. Claire sped with skillful persistence through the streets of the city towards the airport and though it seemed to be a miracle even to her, they arrived at the gates in time. Chris merely grunted at the male flight attendant who greeted him nervously when he stepped into the aircraft, while Claire, able to play down her bad humor, gave a big smile to the girl who welcomed her. Once the handbag was safely stored in the overhead lockers, both siblings dropped into the seats with a loud sigh.

Chris was silent throughout the flight, except for the noisy cracking of ice cubes he chewed as soon as the glass of soda was emptied. Claire knew he was only doing that to annoy her, and hadn't she been flipping the pages of the on-board commercial magazine as though she wanted to kill a fly with them, making even other passengers look up in irritation, she would have called him immature. The fight they were having was as fun as it was tiring.

They landed in silence. They unboarded in silence. They walked to the car rental in silence. Chris was faster, this time, and snatched the keys to the Ford from the front desk as soon as they were handed out, using the moment Claire was busy untangling her ponytail from the straps of her handbag.

Neither of them spoke a word until they hadn't left the city limits of Toronto long behind. Claire had spent the forty minutes they had been driving through the northern landscape staring at the trees and widths of green, determined not to speak to her brother again unless he apologized. Fortunately, he didn't leave her waiting any longer.

"You know I'm just worried about you, Claire."

She had been so absorbed in her own thoughts about how and when to end that silence that his confession startled her. She blinked at the trees that swooshed by at such sickening speed that they all melted together into a big mass of green and greener, and considered how cold her response should probably be to make him understand that she was still mad at him.

"I know," she replied when she'd made her choice and turned her head around. Chris was staring concentratedly at the road in front of them. "You're always worried. That's why I'm not part of the B.S.A.A. if you remember our talks about that."

She saw his jaw clench and felt the glory of the victorious rise in her, knowing he anticipated what she was going to say.

"There's irony for you! If I were part of the B.S.A.A., you could actually do something to make me stay." She shrugged, the triumphant smirk blossoming wildly on her lips. "But you have no power over Terra Save."

Chris exhaled loudly. It was obvious how hard he was trying to keep his composure, knowing that one of his outbursts could impress directors and funders of the B.S.A.A. but not his sister, but the way his fingers curled around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white was an unambiguous sign of his wrath over losing control. A moment later, when he considered himself ready for it, he turned his face to her, his brows lowered into a displeased, sarcastic look, and Claire expected one of his lowest blows.

"I could still speak a word with Fisher."

Claire had to bite her tongue not to laugh. The tone he had chosen was unusually comical and it nearly knocked all her bad mood over.

"Do that!" She exclaimed, trying her best to sound fuming. "I'm sure he will gladly take someone else to Africa only because my big brother says so."

Chris snorted, turning the steering wheel to dodge a fallen branch, and let silence spread again. Claire, convinced she had won the argument and a little disappointed that it had taken her so little time, turned back to the window.

"I think I'm a little more than your brother by now, aren't I?"

Those words came as a surprise and put a gentle smile onto her lips. He knew how to make her feel guilty, poking where it hurt the most — or where it aroused her the most. The laugh Claire huffed out was blown against the glass in the shape of a whitish mist.

"More than that or not, he always wants to prove that his penis is bigger."

Claire heard him sigh in exasperation, knowing that the talk had concluded for the time being. He hated when she used their family-typical stubbornness against him, implying that Fisher was better endowed than he was, but nothing was as nerve-wracking as the thought that she could know what her boss' penis looked like. Once they spoke to each other again, she would have to swear for days and days that she had never slept with Neil, but all upcoming annoyance was worth the sweet taste of the win. They sank back into punishing silence, which wouldn't actually have been anything new to them, nothing to truly do anything about, but right now there was that unspoken thing between them, and curiosity tickled stronger than irritation. After a few blinks and a deep breath, she eventually turned back to Chris.

"What are we, by the way?"

A tiny grin brushed his mouth before he started rolling his jaw, a little too hastily, like a drug addict. He shrugged and, after shifting gears, he responded, "I don't know. We live together. We sleep together. I'm not an expert, but I'd say we're having something like a stable relationship."

She stopped breathing for a moment, letting the immense meaning of those tiny words unfold in her mind. It was too big for her to fathom, too big to fit in the car they were in.

"You mean," she said lowly, biting her lip. "Like boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Chris accelerated, the vehicle smoothly reaching the same pace as his accelerated attitude. He shrugged.

"Yes."

That response, though anticipated, surprised and excited her. She, who had never had a boyfriend before, despite Leon's wrong assumptions, was now granted with the luck to be the woman, the girlfriend, to the most amazing man alive, and all reality began to dangle and dance, blinding her senses until she saw nothing but rainbows. She'd assume, later, that it was the tears of happiness and anger that blurred her vision.

"I love you," she said as she turned away. "But I'm still going to Africa."

Chris sighed audibly.

"I would be disappointed if you just gave in, honestly."

Nobody had expected Moira's college send-off party to be a very joyful event. The peaceful family life had gotten too damaged to keep up the idyllic facade of mutual respect, and while Moira couldn't await the moment she'd finally leave her hometown behind and Barry tried to seem as unimpressed as possible by the imminent departure of his first-born, the only one who was willing to turn the party into an emotional showdown was Kathy. The mother of the Burton family was busy filling the cole slaw into fitting tableware when the Redfield siblings arrived.

"Barry's in the garden," she mentioned, her eyes expressing a feigned joy meant to cover the heart-clenching sadness of the soon-to-be abandoned. "Moira's still packing the last couple of bags for tomorrow."

She complained a little more about the lack of preparation her oldest daughter was showing, but soon went back into the kitchen, refusing any help Claire offered in good will. After moving to greet the rest of the family in their respective corners of the house, not losing a word about the recent argument, Chris stayed with Barry on the BBQ front while Claire helped Moira with the packing of her stuff.

"I can't wait to get out of here," the young woman cried as she carelessly tossed another shirt into the open suitcase. "Barry could at least pretend he's happy for me."

Shirt after shirt that was being ripped out of the backpack Moira suddenly considered too small to fit her entire life and landed on the suitcase in tangled mounds before Claire recovered them and folded them neatly.

"You know that he's happy for you," she muttered as she placed the most recent shirt into the case. "But it breaks his heart to see that his little girl is a grown-up now."

Moira huffed.

"Claire, I don't want to be rude, because your dad isn't around anymore to piss you off. But, trust me, Barry's just a pain in the ass."

Claire chuckled slightly, knowing that all the anger in Moira came from a tragic incident in her childhood, when she had found Barry's gun lying around and accidentally shot her little sister, Polly. Her father, driven by fear for his youngest's life, had yelled at Moira, and the dark-haired had never forgiven him for how badly he had managed the situation. It had destroyed what could have been a healthy father-daughter relationship.

"Everything your father does, Moira, is because he thinks it's the best for you," Claire laughed as she got up, aware of the similarity of their both situations. "You just have different perceptions of the best."

Now, you may think that I suddenly and magically realized how similar Moira's situation was to my own, that I understood that Chris only had a different perception and that I would have run to forgive him.

But we both know that such revelations only happen in fiction.

I knew from the very beginning that Chris only wanted the best for me and that it was just healthy concern for a loved one that had pushed him to forbid me to travel to Africa, but that didn't change the fact that he was acting like an imbecile. And I wouldn't forgive him without receiving a proper apology first.

Once Moira's suitcase was stuffed with all belongings a young woman would believe to need in college, the two friends moved to the ground floor. Kathy was carrying out the last bowl of salad and pushed it eagerly into Claire's hands with the petition for her to take it to the garden while she herself went back to the kitchen for another six pack. Chris saw her the moment she stepped out onto the back porch, where a gentle breeze kissed her red locks as it refreshed the Canadian summer day. That was when she saw the look in his eyes; the one that spoke of love and lust in a thousand languages, ancient and young ones; one he had never given to anyone except to Jill Valentine. Claire stopped and stared, imprisoned by the revelation and checking twice if she wasn't just dreaming as Chris stepped towards her.

"You need help with that?" He asked, with a smile so tender that one could believe he was sorry for being an immature jerk before.

It took her more than one heartbeat to react, but once she had regained her composure, Claire shook her head declining the offer.

"I'm just carrying a bowl of salad," she snorted and walked past him. "Do you think that's too dangerous for me, too?"

She didn't need to turn back to know that the chuckle he let out was just an attempt to cover his irritation and that he was clenching his teeth to it. Claire couldn't blame him. She knew how to provoke him, and she would enjoy every single time she did it again. When she eventually turned, after leaving the salad on the garden table, they exchanged a short smile that melted into a pout on Claire's lips, and Chris moved back to the grill, where Polly was waiting for him to teach her how to perform the perfect burger flip. The redhead watched them, anger and annoyance barely able to muffle the sounds of want she made unconsciously every time Chris' look escaped the results of the improvised BBQ lesson and jumped back to her.

"He's better, isn't he?"

Ripped from the warming hands of her daydream, Claire spun around to meet Barry's face, covered in fatherly concern.

"Who? Chris?" She asked, rather to gain some time to gather her thoughts than to confirm who he was talking about, as her brother was the only he at the party besides Barry himself. Their friend nodded.

"I haven't seen him laugh that genuinely since Jill died," he pointed out with a gruff voice and Claire nodded, heart filled with joy and curiosity. "It was about time he got over it, don't you think?"

Claire blinked, her head spinning back to the pair that was currently celebrating Polly's first triple-flip. Yes, Chris had started to laugh again, to celebrate life instead of actively looking for either death or Jill on his missions, but she hadn't known that it was obvious to the outer world, too.

"He also says he quit drinking," Barry added, torn between pride and admiration for his friend and the disenchantment of being the only one who'd be seriously taking care of the beer that day. "Is he seeing someone?"

Claire huffed at the unexpected question.

"You mean a girl?"

Barry nodded with a subtle roll of his eyes and Claire laughed.

"So, you think he can't get out of it without help?" she asked with the natural undertone of a kind-hearted joke, which Barry didn't seem to perceive. The man almost fidgeted to dodge the question, digging his fingers into the fullness of his beard in search of a spot to scratch in embarrassment.

"Uhm…"

He stopped digging when Claire laughed loudly and patted his shoulder with her right palm.

"You're right! I think that too." Barry joined her laughter shortly before they turned back to Chris and Polly. Claire, once she'd caught her breath and the laughter had died away, sighed happily. "I don't know who it is. You know he never speaks about this kind of thing, but I think there must be someone."

The words acted like an invocation, it seemed, as Chris suddenly looked up and sent an apprehensive smile towards the two people on the porch.

Luckily, Barry didn't understand the real meaning of that smile, nor who it was truly dedicated to.

"Polly, hand me the ketchup, will you?"

"Say please ."

"Can't you just fucking do what I say? It's my farewell party."

"Do you have to be an impolite bitch until the very last minute you're here?"

"I can't wait to be away."

"I can't wait to see you gone."

The animated talk around the heavily-loaded dining table came to a stop when tension of Moira's imminent departure exploded and the two Burton sisters began to yell at each other. The insults hit quickly so far below the belt that it sounded like the girls were competing for their father's respect. Barry, however, just stared at the two fighting cats of his own blood, with his jaw lowered as though he wanted to but didn't quite dare intervene. Claire, knowing that the argument was a mere result of love between sisters, decided it was best not to say anything, and her brother was busy shoveling cole slaw into his mouth.

It wasn't like anyone was going to end up shooting the other. Not again.

"Girls, stop!"

It was the voice of Kathy that sang some reasoning into the sisters' heads, and her palm slammed onto the table that made the rest of souls drop their forks and shudder. Even Barry looked more scared than before. With only two words, a gesture and a look, Kathy Burton showed everyone who the real head of the family was.

Polly, albeit protestingly, obeyed her mother's petition and returned to the wild drowning of fries in ketchup, while Moira kept mumbling as she got up and reached for the bottle herself. When she caught sight of the amusedly disapproving look Claire was giving her, the young girl snorted.

"Little sisters are the worst!" She blurted out and poured a generous stream of ketchup on her burger meat, she caught the last drop with her fingertip and licked it off with a soft moan. Then, she turned to Chris. "Am I right?"

Claire watched Chris awake from his burger trance with a faint impatient smirk on her lips, knowing that Moira adored and admired her too much to speak those words with any kind of seriousness. The big man flicked his tongue over both corners of his mouth between chews and chuckled as his eyes darted at the redhead.

"The worst." He nodded and ran the napkin over his lips, briefly covering the mischievous smile he was cracking. "But what would we do without them, huh? How sad would life be if we had to face all those monsters under the bed alone?" His eyes jumped shortly to the man to his left and the whole table giggled as Barry crossed his arms in approving, silent offence. "They can be irritating sometimes, but remember, Moira, that we, as the older and wiser ones, have some responsibility with them and with the world."

Everyone around the table knew that the comment was only meant to soothe Moira's temper and restore peace at the party, and not to make a real comparison between Claire's wisdom and his own. Claire was known as the more reasonable, less hot-headed Redfield — within certain limits, obviously, as neither of them stood out for being commonsensical no matter what— but Chris seemed to be convinced that he wasn't only the older but also the more rational sibling. Claire rolled her eyes and lifted her glass to her lips, wondering how long it would take him to see how wrong he really was.

When they had booked the flights to Canada and back, Claire had kindly declined the Burtons' friendly invitation to stay the night with the excuse that work would request her attention early the following morning. She loved Barry and the women that owned him, but she had preferred booking the flight back home on Saturday so Chris and she could spend the whole Sunday alone together.

And so, they had agreed to leave at six, right after the party, which they had already expected to last the whole afternoon long. However, when the chit-chatting about bioterror and the endless speaking of goodbyes and wishes of luck had concluded, it was already ten to seven, and the danger of missing the plane had Chris speeding over the highway for the second time that day.

"Turn left? Turn left? You stupid thing!"

"Oh, god, Chris. Just shut up and turn around already! We're heading for Humberwood!"

The anger that was unleashed when the GPS dared send them down the wrong road would have scared the bravest men in the world. Chris was yelling at the device, Claire was yelling at him and the board computer was screaming loudly at both of them, begging them to perform a hundred and eighty degree turn and go back to where they had come from. It wasn't particularly improving the mood in the car, but at least it put an end to the ongoing silence between the siblings.

"Enough!" Chris turned the steering wheel around, slammed the foot onto the brake and nearly sent his sister head first against the windshield. When Claire gathered her thoughts and composure after the shock, her brother had already cut the engine and gotten out of the car.

"What the fuck?" She whispered to herself as her eyes followed the big man. The vehicle had come to a stop near a peaceful neighborhood with elegant houses. The road next to them reached over a bridge across a small river, and Chris was walking in circles across the tiny bit of green land next to the waters. So agitated that she almost pitied him. The seatbelt clicked unfastened and she got out of the car, following her brother, who gave up on the anxious walking when she stood next to him and their eyes met.

"Come on," she mumbled in a nonviolent voice and gestured back to the car. "We're almost there. The airport is right behind these woods. If we leave now, we can still make it."

Chris' look dropped dead to the ground and he snickered as he acknowledged that Claire was trying to catch his hand in hers.

"I'm sorry for what I said before, Claire," he said when he let her entwine their fingers. "I think you have proven to be capable of taking care of yourself and I don't want to be a burden to you. I'm just afraid of losing you. I always was." He turned his face up and looked into her eyes. "You are everything to me."

Those words warmed her heart with such tenderness that she almost chided herself for letting him manipulate her.

"I know, Chris," she responded, her temper almost completely soothed. "But don't worry. This is a routinary inspection trip to see how we can provide humanitarian aid best and stay at the front."

The smile he tried to give her nearly broke the heart he was holding so tightly in his strong hands. Claire felt all her will to keep fighting vanish from her inners when Chris massaged her hand in his two palms and mumbled, "I know, I know."

The redhead flicked a caring thumb over the strong cheekbones of the older brother and sighed, wishing she could kiss him. But he probably wouldn't approve, always fearing they'd get caught by prying eyes, so she just said, "Don't worry. I'll take care of myself. I love you."

And Chris nodded.

"I know." And when Claire was already planning on letting go of him and turning back to the car, he added, "I love you too."

All life-conserving motions and automatic chemical processes in her body seemed to come to a stop at the sound of his confession. Claire felt her lungs long for air, but her own longing for hearing Chris repeat his last words was too strong to let them drown in the sheer possibility of another sound. She stared at him incredulously, eyes flickering with emotion. Chris seemed surprised by his own statement, but he didn't waver, and even increased the friction around her palm. Claire swallowed. He hadn't told her the L-word since he had found out about her feelings for him.

"You mean…like…?"

The faint shadow of the previous smile that remained on his lips began to blossom and spread again. Eventually letting go of her hand, he moved his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, his left cupping her jaw and angling her head to the side. Claire nearly died of need when she realized that the look he was giving her was the same look he had given her at the Burtons' earlier that day. It was the same lustful, desirous glance he had always given Jill — only Jill. And if that wasn't enough to show her that he loved her like a woman, then the kiss would confirm it all.

He pressed his lips onto hers with the feisty hunger of an inexperienced teenager, and Claire's mouth dropped open automatically, ravenous for his touch. Chris' fingers trailed along her jawline, holding her in place as his mouth made love to hers, right there in that godforsaken, green corner somewhere in Ontario, and suddenly Claire couldn't care less about flights to New York or to Africa anymore, about ketchup bottles nor about older or wiser siblings. All because Chris had said he loved her. He loved her. Was there any better feeling available for a human being than requited love? She couldn't come up with any.

Chris kept holding her close when their lips separated, brushing the tip of her nose lovingly with his.

"Maybe we should go on a vacation before you leave for Africa," he whispered and turned his gaze to the green land that surrounded them, where the river softly lapped against the shore. "What do you think? Somewhere no one knows us."

It seemed to her like the most fantastic idea anyone had ever had.