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Partners	By : onionbelt Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 5488 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters and make no money with this story. It's just for fun.

Chapter List
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Three weeks later, they're in London. Chris is wearing the first suit he's owned since he was a teenager, which he had tailored to him in a shop a few streets over. It's surprisingly comfortable, but he still thinks someone's going to ask him to validate their parking. Jill, in a blue jacket and knee-length skirt, looks elegant and has no such concerns.

"The general idea," Clive O'Brian says, "is to create an independent advisory board to handle 'bioterrorism.'" Despite the name, he's an American, with an impressive list of credentials in international law enforcement. They're in a small office in what'll eventually be a much larger building, and the sounds of renovation are coming through the walls. "The funding's coming from the GPC, but that's it. They don't have any oversight as to how it's spent. A check is simply deposited."

"If I'm reading the charter right," Jill says, "we wouldn't have any law enforcement powers to speak of."

"No. We're consultants, not police or military." O'Brian folds his hands and rests them on his desk blotter. "The political will exists for an international advisory organization, but it doesn't go much further than that. You'd answer to me as commissioner and have the authority to draw arms, but officially, you're discouraged from using them."

"This is starting to sound like bullshit," Chris says. It comes out angrier than he intended and Jill gives him a sidelong look.

O'Brian nods. "Oh, it is. It'll be an enormous pain in the ass. Then something bad will happen, we'll prove we're necessary, and we'll gradually expand into what we actually need to be."

"Chris," Jill says, and Chris takes a deep breath.

"So this won't be worth much until somebody dies," Chris says.

"Just about," O'Brian says. "This is the world."

"What do you think?" Jill asks.

"I think that I just got offered a job in a country where they don't know how to make pizza," Chris says, and tosses the rest of the slice into the closest trash bin.

"That's fair," she says, "but not quite what I meant."

"You don't think it seems like a step down?"

She stops to look through a store window at an expensive white dress. "I wouldn't mind belonging to something again."

He opens his mouth to speak.

"Besides you, you smooth-talking devil."

Chris closes his mouth.

"One of the things I liked about the Army, and then the STARS," Jill says, mostly to her reflection, "was that sense of being part of something bigger than myself."

"You had a place."

"Yeah, and it was a place I'd earned, doing something I'm good at." She turns to him. "What do you think?"

"I don't like the idea of sitting around and waiting for the next disaster," Chris says, "but I go where you go."

"You don't have to."

"Well, if I don't do this, I'll probably go blow up Antarctica."

Jill keeps a straight face. "Right. I should have taken that into consideration."

"Probably."

"All right," she says, "let's go tell O'Brian we're in."

Chris walks in that direction, and Jill waits until he's about half a step past her and grabs him by the tie. He goes along with it and she yanks him in her direction for a quick kiss on the lips.

"You really do look good in that suit, you know," she says with her mouth against his.

"Thanks."

One of the things that Chris will never be quite used to is that he is, in certain circles, famous.

He and Jill have a reputation as the team that took down Umbrella. They try to downplay it as much as they can, since a lot of people died that night, but the story gets bigger every time someone tells it. The most common version makes it sound like he and Jill stormed the Caucasus by themselves and mowed down everything inside it in slow-motion with a discordantly beautiful soundtrack and doves flying around.

As such, it becomes a very big deal that they're involved with the newly-minted Bio-Security Assessment Alliance, or BSAA. Their presence is indicative that the organization is both legitimate and serious, and as O'Brian saw coming, it also defuses many of the United States's initial concerns. A lot of people in North America get predictably upset about the idea of yet another United Nations supervisory organization, but when it's being run and co-founded by Americans, that takes some of the sting out.

Chris spends most of a day being interviewed and answering the same questions repeatedly. His picture appears in a few newspapers worldwide, nowhere near the front page, and he looks startled or brainless in every single one of them. Jill tries to tell him otherwise - she looks like an actress at a film premiere in all of hers and the media reaction to her is making Chris angry in a very caveman sort of way - but she's outvoted by pretty much everyone else Chris knows.

They get back to their hotel room late that night and discover someone's dropped off an expensive bouquet of orchids for them both. The card is unsigned and reads CONGRATULATIONS ON THE NEW JOB in neat handwritten block capitals.

They both recognize Wesker's handwriting from back in the STARS office and end up calling the bomb squad, but it really is just a bouquet, paid for with a credit card that belongs to a man who doesn't exist.

"I really hate that guy," Chris says.

Jill nods.
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