Chapter Text
If there was a day to die, today would be it. But you’d be damned if you were that much of a bitch.
“Thank you for calling the Raccoon City Police Department, how may I direct your call?” You were ready to call it quits though. You wanted to kill your coworkers, calling out AGAIN.
“I apologize, our chief of police is out of the office, may I take a message? Or perhaps you would like to be transferred to his voicemail?” You pulled the phone away to lessen the agitated yelling on the other end, fighting the urge to sigh. You waved goodbye to the day shift police officers heading out for the night, smiling for the night crew coming in. The cleaners were mopping and polishing the marble floors, taking out trash and other such duties. You reached down and gave the lobby cleaner your trash, flashing a tired smile at her. You bite your tongue, writing down the contact details for Chief Irons to call this guy back, briefly confused why a representative of the Umbrella corporation was calling so late, before wishing the caller a curt good day and hanging up. You muttered under your breath as you went back to filing reports.
“You’re still here? You’re so reliable, dear.”
Your heart skips a beat. Great.
“Good evening, Captain Wesker, yes I am still here. How may I help you?” You force another smile, trying to be as welcoming as you could be for a man you absolutely hated. He was insufferable, good at his job but not much else, you stop filing to give him your full attention. Whatever he needed so he’d get out of your way faster. Albert Wesker stood leaning against the reception desk, arms crossed, and despite it being midnight, he still wore sunglasses on his stupid face with that same charming shit eating grin.
As the S.T.A.R.S Alpha Captain, you could be sure he’s had his fair share of late nights. He and Captain Enrique often shared nights, going on a weekly system. None of that pertained to you though, as Captain Wesker so elegantly put it, you were just the pretty face at the door. You did nothing but stand there and greet people and answer phones, not worth your weight in salt if you asked him.
You nearly lost your fucking mind that day, but your supervisor didn’t back you up, asking you to ‘please just let it go’ and ‘to always make sure to welcome and help the S.T.A.R.S Captains out in any way. They were your superiors after all.’
“That's right, Dearheart.”
He would do that stupid fucking smirk, and saunter away like he was hot shit. You wanted to strangle him or beat him to death with all his shiny awards he displayed in his office.
The others in high command were considerably LESS insufferable in comparison, but still you held your tongue and went out of your way to be welcoming to both Wesker and Enrique, getting them out of your hair so you can work. Today would be no exception.
“Right, dear, could you do me a favor?” Wesker started, but the look on your face made him pause, and he chuckled,
“What’s wrong sweetheart? Can’t handle the phones? The large crowd?” He was teasing, you knew he was teasing, but you were ready to spend your night in the jail cell for first degree murder. You crossed your arms, standing tall,
“What can I help you with, Captain?” You were blunt, spitting each word out, tone still light but annoyed. You were now 9 overtime hours, a 17 hour work day AFTER working the previous night at your other job. You were dead on your feet, but stubborn enough to keep going. Determined to keep going. After Wesker’s comment that day, a fire was lit under you, and you began to resent him and the whole S.T.A.R.S department for existing.
Still you were nothing if not professional. Wesker chuckled, standing to his full height, wordlessly taking on your challenge and holding your veiled glare. Even with your heels, he stood at least half a head taller, his sharp crisp uniform fitting snugly around his chiseled form, and he steps closer, trying to make you back down by encroaching into your personal space.
“I need a favor, Dearheart, I would like to compile a bit of research in the library but… Well, as I'm on duty for the night, and have far more important matters to attend to… Perhaps you can locate the required materials for me?” He was too close, but you refused to back down, the lobby deathly quiet as everyone settled in their offices or went on patrol.
You didn’t answer, wondering if it would be appropriate to tell him to fuck off so you can go home. Glaring up at him, you considered it. You still need to file away some overdue paperwork in the record room, perhaps you can bring him his books as well.
“Fine, what do you need?” You conceded, finally stepping away to return to filing your paperwork, just a couple more reports. He didn’t step away, opting to lean over you as you turned away, slipping a list of books onto the desk next to you. You glance at it before turning to him sharply, anger reignited,
“Captain Wesker, you can’t be serious!? This will take me hours, I’m already 9 hours over time–”
“Finding these books for me shouldn't be too hard, dear. I am quite busy tonight you see. If anyone has a problem with your overtime, clearly they wouldn’t have asked you to work.” His smooth voice interrupted you, he leaned against the desk again, taking off his glasses to reveal his icy stare, amusement etched on his handsome face. Fuck this guy.
“I most certainly would like to head home at some point, Captain.” You bit out, shuffling papers together to staple. He laughed,
“Of course, you can't be answering phones this late, could you? No one to greet–”
“My JOB is more than just greeting people and answering phones, SIR.” there was fire in your eyes as you glare at him now, fully angry with him now, and letting him know. You jabbed a finger in his face,
“I do more for this station than you certainly do! Not only do I greet and answer phones but I file police reports, maintain the library, deal with you, AND I do it well.” You seethed, he stood now, surprised at your audacity. You stepped forward, he stepped back.
“I will find as many books as I can in the next 30 minutes. After that? I’m done. I’m heading home. Do you understand, Captain?” You successfully pushed him out of your desk area, still fuming at him, but his surprise was quickly replaced with a mocking tone, leaning over you again. He was smiling but something changed in his eyes, you could see cold fury flicker in them,
“I like your gall, girl, but need I remind you who you’re speaking to?” He questions, in an almost sing-songy voice. You raged more, but held back on the more insulting things you wanted to say,
“I know full well whom I’m speaking to, Captain Wesker. I am saying that I will help you for the next 30 minutes before I. Head. Home. Understand?” You wouldn’t back down, and this time, much to your surprise, Captain Wesker conceded. He held his hands up, eyes losing that fury and returning back to full shit eating grins and amusement.
“But of course, dear. I appreciate all the help you can offer this late.” He gives you a full smile full of white teeth. You hated it. You turn away, gathering up your files, shuffling everything together before taking the lobby keys and with heels clicking loudly, walking to the lobby doors, locking them. The police station was officially closed to the public, only the officers could open the doors now. You turn sharply, intending on walking to the records room to file your paperwork. Looking down at the papers to avoid his gaze. You decided to head through the reception area, heels echoing in the empty halls.
Before you could leave the main hall, a strong hand stopped you, pulling you slightly to make you lose your balance. You rolled your ankle and flipped around to catch yourself. Your hands gripped onto Captain Wesker’s biceps. Absolutely flabbergasted, you stare up at him in shock, mouth ajar, he smiled cheekily holding you as if he was gonna catch you.
Was he flexing?
“I didn’t want you to get too far without the list, my dear. It’s important, you see.” He says holding up the slip of paper between his slender fingers. He loosens his grip and you back off quickly, testing your ankle. It hurt a little bit but it wasn’t too bad of an injury, just an ice-ing tonight when you get home. A blush of shame crept up your neck and you swiped the paper out of his hands.
“... I apologize, I’ll see what I can find.” You notice your scattered documents on the ground and with a small sigh, you bend down to begin picking up the papers.
How humiliating to be crawling around on the floor next to Wesker’s boot, but these documents were important. Much more important than your pride right now. You pointedly ignore the man, who despite claiming to be extremely busy, would not just fuck off. You noticed he stepped on a paper,
“Excuse me, Captain Wesker, your foot is on my important documents.” You tried to gently slide the paper from his boot but he did not budge. You gritted your teeth, enclosing your hand into a fist, sighing heavily, “Captain–” You looked up at him, and saw that he was staring down at you, gaze almost predatory.
Sunglasses and a shit eating grin. God DAMN this man. You glared up at him, ready to throw down.
“My, that’s a sight.. Forgive me, I’ll be leaving now. Please drop the books off at my office.” With that, he stepped away, purposely crumbling the document he stood on and laughed a sinister chuckle, jogging up the stairs two at a time. His laughter echoed in the Main Hall, leaving you to stew in anger and shame on the floor, watching him leave. His uniform left nothing to the imagination, his cargo pants tight against his buttocks.
What an ass. Literally and figuratively.
You pick up the paper and shuffle it back in with your stack with an aggravated sigh. God, you hated that man, but damn did he look good. You speed off, clacking down the hall to the record room.
Briefly wondering if that interaction also counted with your time limit of 30 minutes. Or if the figurative timer started when you reached the library. You were still infuriated, absolutely annoyed about being roped into that bastard’s shenanigans so late at night. You filed away your documents, taking a glance at the clock. Half past 12, if that fuckery counted then you were already due to leave.
Taking another look at his note, 14 books altogether on the subject of a variety of seemingly random topics. Another tired sigh left your lips, and you set off. Climbing the hidden stairs to the second floor, and taking a right. Your timer started when you entered the library, you quickly searched around. Finding 5 books right away, and breaking your back searching for the sixth. Considering how extensive the library was, it was a miracle to find any in the time you set for yourself. You sighed, crumpling up his note to place in your pocket. Perhaps tomorrow you will have time. You carefully balanced the books in your hands, locking your entryway but exiting out another door closer to the S.T.A.R.S office.
You quickly made your way down the hall, finding the closest side door locked, so you had to walk all the way around. The main door was also locked. You banged your foot against the door annoyed, unable to see past the stack of books. You hear some clattering from inside and the door opens.
“Here you go, Captain, what I managed to find in 30 minutes. You’re welcome.” Gesturing for whoever opened the door to take your stack. Large hands take the stack tentatively,
“Uh Well, Thank you, Ms…?” You looked up into the eyes of S.T.A.R.S point man, Chris RedField. Ah.
“Mr. Redfield, how are you this evening? Could you pass this along to Captain Wesker for me?”
“Sure thing!” he says a bit cheerfully, “Have I seen you before? Do you work here?”
It was common for the S.T.A.R.S hot shots to not remember the common folk but you and a couple of other ladies were literally the first faces they would see, how could they not remember you? You smiled politely at the man,
“I worked the reception desk in the Main Hall, Mr. Redfield. Please have a wonderful night.” You quickly turned, walking away before he had a chance to respond. You heard Wesker yelling for his stack of bullshit and the door closing again. You were home free, bounding down the hidden stairs and practically running in your heels.
God you were TIRED, ready to go home, and stop thinking about work already. As you exited the Main Hall through the double door entrance, the first drops of rain began to pour. How lucky of you, half jogging to your car, taking a bit of time to get settled in, more than happy to finally end the day. You turn on the engine, waiting for your car to warm up. You glance to see Wesker, hand in the air, jogging up to you.
Oh fuck no, you back up quickly and peeled out of there. Leaving him to stand in the rain as you fled. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.