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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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"By the time we received the call," Jill says, "the local police were spooked. I was unable to get any volunteers to head into the quarantine zone, so Keith and I went in on our own."
"Which you aren't legally allowed to do," Clive O'Brian says. He's not angry, exactly, but he's obviously tired and has spent the last few hours dealing with the mayor of Los Angeles, who's furious. He wants somebody to take this out on.
"Boss, the people we went after had kids with them," Keith Lumley says. Jill is as calm as usual, but Keith's twitching with nervous energy, sure he'll get fired but that it was for a righteous cause. "They'd locked themselves up in a basement apartment before the quarantine went down. We couldn't just leave 'em to die."
"The situation degenerated." Jill leans back in her chair and leans her head on her hand. "We'd thought the infection was recent, spread by a white supremacist group that took responsibility for the attack. After we tracked them down, it turned out they were leaping on the opportunity and had no connection to it, or to the bioweapons trade. As far as we can tell, it may have been a completely accidental leak, and it had been going on for a while."
"I'm sure it's all well-documented in your report," O'Brian says, "which I will read in time. Please get to the reason why--"
"We fought something a lot like it back in the Spencer mansion," Chris says. He hates referring to the mansion incident, like he's one of those old bastards who can relate everything in his life back to a single past event. The problem is that such is actually the case. "The T-Virus contamination had gotten into a hydroponic garden in one of the buildings' basement. There's no way of knowing what the plants were to start with, but they'd infiltrated most of the nearby structures. They had to be burned out or they'd have spread further."
"You ducked out on a week of briefing the NYPD on T-Virus carriers, Chris. It's not your job to drop everything and burn down multiple city blocks when--"
"My job is to fight bioterrorism, isn't it? That sure as hell qualified--"
Jill kicks the front of O'Brian's desk, which nearly staves it in and makes a hollow sound like a bass drum. They both look at her.
"I needed someone outside the incident zone to come in with specialized equipment," Jill says, "and Chris did that when the locals wouldn't. If he hadn't, Keith and I might not be dead, but the civilians probably would be. As it was, it was close."
O'Brian looks back and forth from her to Chris, and it's hard to tell what he's thinking.
Finally, he throws both hands in the air. "Fine. I'll read the report and release an edited version to the press. In the future, however, any plans that involve detonating apartment buildings--"
"I don't do that all the time," Chris says with a look at Jill.
She doesn't respond, and that's when he knows she's worse off than she looks.
"Does this mean we're not fired?" Keith asks.
"Get out of my office."
Keith stands up. He's trying to act casual, but he's doing it at about twice the speed he should be. "Cool. Later."
Chris decides he's got the right idea, and with another glance at Jill, he follows Keith out.

It's been about four months since anyone's been in Jill's apartment. All the windows are open, but it's an uncharacteristically warm and windless summer evening, so there's almost no ventilation.
Her apartment is somewhere between cluttered and cozy. It's a little smaller than Chris's and she's filled what looks like every square inch of it with overstuffed furniture and throw rugs. Half-finished books are scattered everywhere, their pages marked with playing cards, and there's a scented-candle hint to the air that nothing can quite erase. Her TV is on, tuned to a news channel with the volume down.
"I never talked to you about the first couple of days in the Raccoon City outbreak," Jill says suddenly.
Chris nods. He's been waiting for her to get around to this.
"It's not something I like to bring up, because I'll dwell on it. I know I did everything I could, but in the end, I couldn't save anyone. Nowhere was safe and nobody was really in charge. It was a nightmare, even before the Nemesis showed up." Jill finishes her vodka and tonic and gets up to make another one. "Being back in the United States, with civilian infected, brought that back for me in a big way."
"You saved somebody this time," Chris says. "A lot of people, in fact."
"There are times I think I could save people every day for the rest of my life and it wouldn't be enough." Jill comes back into her living room with the bottle of vodka in her hand and sets it down on the coffee table. She pours it straight and takes a sip. "A lot of the cops in LA were looking to me for marching orders at the start of the whole mess, since I was the big important expert, and I thought, what would they do if I just started screaming?"
"You held it together, though."
"Barely."
"Still counts."
She looks at him with an empty expression on her face.
"C'mon," Chris says. He puts down his glass and switches from her armchair to her sofa, next to her, and gathers her up with one arm. "Blaming yourself for what you can't change is my thing, not yours. You did the best you could back then, and you did it now."
Jill leans in against him. "I know. I just... I nearly lost it."
"But you didn't."
"Yeah."
"You're allowed to be human, Jill. Nobody knows about it except me."
She makes a murmured sound of acknowledgement and drinks some more vodka, so Chris takes the glass away from her and puts it on the table. When Jill looks up to glare at him for it, he kisses her on the forehead.
It's an impulse decision that he didn't actually intend to use as a way to change the subject, but that's how Jill interprets it anyway. She kisses him back, the situation rapidly evolves, and soon she's on top of him with her tongue in his mouth and their clothes are in disarray. She tastes like the vodka she's been drinking and there's a steadily building urgency in her movements that Chris remembers from six years ago.
They haven't been alone together for three months. This was going to happen. It was just a question of when.

"Yeah, always. The moment I know I'm safe at home. Don't you?"
"Nah, I just get hungry." It takes Chris a couple of tries to get up from the couch. It's big and fluffy and comfortable and in no way meant for what they've been doing all night, so now it's like the couch is trying to eat him. "I did wonder, though."
"What's that?"
"What'd you do back in Raccoon City? We got into some trouble in the STARS unit."
Jill presses her face against the couch cushions and laughs. Their clothes gradually came off over the course of the last few hours and are now strewn across her living room, thrown randomly in every direction. "I had some very satisfied girlfriends back then."
"Ah. That explains it."
There's something else he's always wanted to ask about, but it's undeniably a turn-on and right now, he's wiped out. He's getting older and if he starts anything else with Jill, he's going to go into cardiac arrest before he's half done. She's always enthusiastic, but he'd forgotten what she can be like after an actual field operation.
Chris keeps his mouth shut, goes into the kitchen and gets some leftover Chinese food out of her fridge. When he comes back into the living room, his reheated kung pao chicken in one hand and Jill's veggie lo mein in the other, she's taken the TV off of mute and is sitting up.
Onscreen, a crooked camera feed is displaying a crowded city street, and as they watch, something that is unmistakably a Hunter - a later production model, a little bigger than what they know but still very much a Hunter - jumps onto the hood of a car and roars to the sky. The picture is hazy and it looks like the lens might be cracked, but there are clearly dead people on the street nearby.
The TV cuts back to a shaken-looking anchorwoman. "That footage has been released online and purports to have been recently shot on the streets of Terragrigia, the recently-opened aquapolis in the Mediterranean Sea. We are currently receiving confirming reports that Terragrigia has been openly attacked with biological weapons."
"I think we better go to the office," Jill says.
"Yeah."
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