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Just one more step, Chris thought to himself as he turned around the corner and looked at his target. The exit was so close, and yet so far away. The deafening sound of battle and the cries of torture thrummed heavy in his ears, and as he felt the fear sizzling in his every limb, he prayed that no one would notice his absence before he made it to the door.
He was almost there! His hand reached for the handle and a shout of cheer escaped his lips, when the little green suction cup arrow impacted directly on the door, inches away from his face. Chris swallowed; his whole body tensed as he turned around.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” The face he met wasn’t the one he’d expected to encounter, but that didn’t make him fear her any less.
“I… how did you get out of there?”
Jill arched an eyebrow and held up the plush bathrobe belt triumphantly. “I’m not only the Master of Unlocking. I’m also the Master of Untying.”
Screams and laughter came from the living room right before a loud thump shattered through the house. Jill turned her face to the right and every hint of color drained from her face.
“How did you throw the armchair over?” she yelled incredulously and pointed her finger at the area. “Moira, I warn you! Don’t climb up the shelf!”
That was his chance! Chris turned back to the door and tried to rip it open, cursing when he realized that it was locked. Shit, where had they kept the key? He pulled open the drawer of the console table, hoping he’d find the key before Jill could decide to go for him instead of saving one of the suicidal kids they were supposed to look after. How had they accepted to babysit Barry’s kids while he and Kathy were out? How the hell had Barry and Kathy asked them to babysit their kids? How irresponsible of them!
“Yes!” Chris cheered when he found the key and pushed it into the lock. But before he could even turn it, something was thrown over his head and he was pulled back.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Damnit, Jill had preferred to hold him back before saving the life of a child.
He was surrounded by immaturity!
Jill gave the bathrobe belt she’d thrown around his neck a soft pull and Chris stumbled backward, turning to his partner with an expression of defeat on his face.
“I need to get out,” he excused with a shrug as he tried not to laugh. “I… it’s work.”
Jill frowned at him, taking the time to give him one of those intense stares that always left him unarmed. The laughter in the living room was proof that the kids were okay, which seemed enough reason for Jill not to worry further about them. Her hands began turning, spinning the belt around her wrists and pulling Chris closer to her. When he was forced to be pulled down, his heart performed a painful jump in his chest.
She was so close he could smell the sweet scent of her lip gloss. He felt her breath on his clavicle and shivered. What was it about Jill that always had him feeling so vulnerable? She was pretty, yes, but there were a lot of other pretty girls working at the RPD.
Only that they didn’t wear their hair like Jill did. They didn’t walk, talk, or laugh like Jill. They didn’t drink with the boys, nor did they curse like Jill.
They didn’t sneak into his most intimate fantasies like Jill Valentine did.
Chris felt dizzy. His palms were sweaty, his heart raced, and he tried so hard to keep his look on her face.
“My eyes are up here, hero!”
Okay, that hadn’t worked. Chris swallowed and apologetically cleared his throat before shrugging again.
“Wesker needs me,” he lied and nodded, hoping it would convince her and himself. He just needed to get some fresh air, have a smoke, and maybe get a vasectomy.
“What does he need you for now? Why just you?” The tone in Jill’s voice said she wasn’t buying it.
“He didn’t tell me. He just said he wants me in the office in half an hour.”
He saw her chewing on the inside of her lip in thought. He knew she wasn’t believing a single word, but even so, she was considering just letting him leave. And he was so close to getting out of there when something expensive and fragile dropped to the floor in the living room.
“We’re fine!” Polly informed and the two girls kept laughing. Jill had closed her eyes for a second and exhaled, obviously exhausted.
“Okay,” she said as she let go of one end of the belt and Chris almost believed he’d made it. His hopes were about to be shattered like the porcelain something the kids had just broken. “We’re coming with you.”
He deadpanned.
“What?”
The ride to the RPD had been surprisingly peaceful. Barry’s kids had proven to have good taste in music, actually being quiet when he’d turned up the radio in his car. The bad thing was that they didn’t let the grown-ups speak either, because nobody was allowed to interrupt Freddie Mercury.
So, he hadn’t yet confessed to Jill that Wesker didn’t want to see him that night.
She’d be mad when she found out that he’d just wanted to get rid of the kids and leave her alone with them.
Wouldn’t she?
Chris shook the thought off. No. She wouldn’t know. Because when they’d arrive in the S.T.A.R.S. office, Wesker wouldn’t be there to tell her he hadn't asked him to come. It was —his look jumped to his watch— past ten after all, and it was too late even for Wesker. Chris frowned at the thought. Shouldn’t these girls get to bed soon?
“Ouch!” the little voice to his right yelled and ripped him out of his daydream. When he looked to his right, the face of little Moira was staring angrily at him. “My hand!”
He’d squeezed her little hand too tightly. When Chris let go of her, about to apologize, the girl started running along the corridor, shouting her joy all through the RDP. Jill, who was walking a few steps before them, with little Polly by her side, shook her head. Chris caught Moira right in front of the S.T.A.R.S. office.
“My Dad works here!” the girl shouted, pointing her little finger at the huge emblem that embellished the door. Chris grabbed her hand and pulled her next to him.
“Yeah, sometimes,” he said and took a deep breath before knocking. “Captain Wesker? It’s me!”
The question: Since when do you knock? was written all over Jill’s face when he looked at her. Chris reconsidered and just pulled the handle, expecting the door to be closed.
It wasn’t.
It opened.
Shit.
He walked into the office shaking with fear. He felt like that time when he’d sneaked into the living room one Christmas at midnight because he wanted to catch Santa off guard.
But now, he was afraid of whom he was going to catch off guard.
And of what they’d be doing.
“Chris?”
He felt his heart sag when he heard Wesker’s displeased tone call out his name. Grimacing, he turned to the left and found his captain sitting at his desk, watching him from behind his signature shades, and doing something he would have never imagined possible.
“What are you doing here?” the S.T.A.R.S. Captain asked.
“I… uhm…” Chris stuttered, so shaken by the picture of Albert Wesker eating a pink frosted donut that he couldn't articulate the answer he didn’t have.
The way Jill stopped abruptly right after crossing the threshold told him that she was as baffled by the view as he was. She, however, found her voice pretty quickly.
“So,” she said in a tone loaded with sarcasm. “Wesker needed you here, huh?”
Chris was still unable to reply, making weird sounds that would have made anyone doubt he was human at all.
“You liar!” she hissed, pretending to sound offended, and punched his arm. “You were going to leave me alone with the kids!”
The kids, in the meantime, had walked into Wesker’s office—too fast for anyone to even think about stopping them. Once next to Wesker, Moira pointed at the donut in the captain’s hand and shouted, “I want that.”
Couldn’t Barry have taught her manners?
Thankfully, being S.T.A.R.S. Alpha captain trained you in dealing with immature children, it seemed. Wesker stared at the girl and shook his head.
“No,” he said. “It’s mine.”
Moira didn’t like the answer, though. The seven-year-old began to squeal.
“My dad works here!” she shouted, having her little sister rooting for her as she jumped up and down.
They turned silent when Wesker took his sunglasses off.
It was one of those moments the temperature seemed to decrease. Chris rubbed over his arms, shivering with cold.
“You must be Moira Burton,” Wesker said and left Chris and Jill impressed with his analytical talent. “I can’t give you my donut. It’s everything I’ll have tonight.”
Moira’s face lit up a bit, seemingly understanding what the captain was telling her.
“I have a candy bar in my backpack,” she suddenly replied and pointed at her back. “You can have that too if you’re hungry.”
Wesker smirked almost fatherly, and it made Chris cringe.
The captain pulled out some paper sheets and two pencils from his upper drawer. “Thank you, but what I really want is a picture of myself—” he explained as he handed the sheets to the girls, ”—drawn by you !”
The girls giggled excitedly and climbed onto the chairs in front of Wesker’s desk before grabbing pencils and paper and starting to draw lines on the sheets.
“Let me just put my shades back on,” Wesker suggested and covered his eyes. “I feel prettier like this.”
Chris’ mouth dropped open. Jill chuckled awkwardly.
“I will draw you with the donut!” Polly said and made Moira laugh.
“That is a fairly good idea, ladies.”
This was not happening, was it? He wasn’t just staring as Barry’s kids drew pictures of pretty Albert Wesker, was he? He blew out a breath of incredulity and felt how all his muscles hurt from being in tension for hours .
He jumped a little when Jill elbowed him in the side.
“They’re cute, aren’t they?”
Chris nodded.
“Cute and pretty,” he whispered, and they laughed a little.
Jill sighed. “Barry should have asked Wesker to look after them from the beginning. The jar in the living room would still be whole.” She shook her head. “Maybe, if we ask nicely, he’ll babysit our future kids, too.”
Chris forgot how to breathe for a second.
“Our kids?” he asked before looking at her, catching the hint of a blush on her cheeks.
“Uhm, yeah!” Jill replied, a little shyly. “I mean your kids and my kids… you know?”
He knew.
But the way Jill looked at him that night in the S.T.A.R.S. office had him make a choice.
He was by far too young to get a vasectomy.