DISCLAIMER: "Resident Evil" and all associated characters and likenesses are the exclusive property of Capcom. Used here without permission.

"Baby Love Child" (English Remix) is copyright ©1994 Pizzicato Five. Written by Konishi/Takanami. Used here without permission.

1 - Sweet, Sweet Sixteen (Sherry)

"Sherry! Over here!"

Claire Redfield stood behind the airport's gate barrier, waving one hand excitedly. She looked the same as she did the last time Sherry saw her, except that her hair was longer. She was still the best person Sherry could have seen at that moment, with maybe one exception.

Sherry Birkin dropped her two canvas bags on the ground in front of Claire and grabbed her in a fierce hug. "Claire!" She basked for a long moment in the sensation of Claire's strong embrace, the smell of her clean clothes, and the warmth of her body. "I'm so glad you're here!"

Claire pulled away from her. "I could say the same thing." She looked Sherry up and down. "You get prettier every time I see you. And taller!" Claire laughed, indicating the slight difference in their height.

"I sprouted late," Sherry told her, giggling. She pushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear; she had decided to let it grow out over the summer, and though it still wasn't as long as Claire's, she could make a respectable ponytail from the length. She glanced around. "Is Leon here?"

Claire reached for one of Sherry's bags. "He's in the car. We just got here a few minutes ago. We didn't want to miss you, so he dropped me off at Arrivals."

Sherry nodded. "Well, this is it for my stuff." She affected a highbrow British accent and said, "We can catch our carriage right away."

Claire wrapped an arm around Sherry's shoulder and started walking for the exit, several gates down. "Whatever you say, young miss!"

Claire laughed then, a wonderful sound to Sherry's ears after the long flight from LAX. In fact, everything about Claire seemed wonderful to Sherry at that moment. She was the same angel that she had been back in Raccoon, all of those years ago. Sherry instantly felt comfortable with her, as if there had been no time spent separated from her.

Sherry immediately started talking, without any prompting from Claire. She began to babble about the trendy California shops where her aunt had taken her; her first summer job (as a hostess at a restaurant, which she was glad to quit when the excuse of a trip to come see Claire presented itself); the boys at school who had finally started to notice her, right before summer break, of course; and more.

In the middle of her story about her first driver's test, which she failed terribly but wasn't all that worried about since she was only sixteen, Claire led her outside, where Leon was waiting with the car.

No matter how much Sherry had convinced herself that she was over Leon Kennedy, he still managed to take her breath away.

He was leaning against the sporty convertible like a model in an auto magazine. His hair was shorter than she remembered, though he still had those adorable long bangs. And she couldn't see his blue eyes behind the dark sunglasses that he wore, but she was certain that they were as beautiful as ever.

"Hey," Leon smiled at her, pushing himself up from the side of the car. He opened his arms to her, which Sherry was only too happy to accept as a greeting.

"Hi, Leon!" Sherry grinned into his chest, which felt as strong and protective right now as it had when she had said goodbye to him last year. Afraid to linger too much in his embrace, she pushed away from him and turned her attention to the convertible. "Nice car! Is it yours?"

Leon snorted. "No." He turned around and opened the passenger door for the girls.

Claire laughed as she pushed the front seat forward and hopped into the back with Sherry's bags. "Carlos rented it for the week. He said he wanted to drive 'in style.'"

"Who's Carlos?" Sherry asked, as she slipped into the front passenger seat.

"You'll meet him," Claire assured her, "when we get to the cottage."

Leon walked around the side of the car and got into the driver's seat. He offered Sherry a sidelong smile as he added, "He's a real one-of-a-kind guy." He started the car, then turned to face Sherry fully. "Want to put the top down?"

"Yeah!" Sherry cried eagerly, and Leon directed her on what to do. In a few minutes, they had the convertible's top down and were pulling away from the airport.

Sherry leaned back in her seat, watching the clouds float by above her head. "I feel like a real Valley girl in this car!" She had to practically shout to be heard above the wind and the traffic.

She glanced back at Claire, who had her arms stretched out across the entire back of the seat. The wind was whipping her auburn hair all around her head, but she didn't seem to mind too much. She reminded Sherry a little of a mermaid under water, looking like that.

Sherry turned to Leon next. He was busy watching the road, but every once in a while, he would look across at her, or at Claire in the rearview mirror, and smile.

Leon still had this uncanny ability to make her heart melt, and as she looked at him, Sherry thought of last year, when she had been so afraid of him and so taken with him at the same time. The situation had not ended to her liking - on some nights, she could still taste the tears in her throat when she thought of the way he had rejected her - but she could not deny that it had ended.

The time apart from him had made the trauma easier to take: every day spent away from Leon made her heart hurt a little less, yet at the same time made her want him back all the more, as her friend. She still felt something very special for him in her heart of hearts; she would only ever have one first love. And while secretly she would have liked it if he had found love in her in return, she knew that Claire made him happy in a way that she still couldn't quite comprehend, though she was starting to gain an inkling of it as time wore on.

The love that Sherry felt for Leon was unadulterated, unconditional, and unfettered by the physical side of things. She had placed him on a pedestal of her own design, and she doubted that that would ever change. Yet, over the last few months, she had found her eye wandering to boys her age, especially while at school. One of them was even nice to her - a boy in her violin class who played the sweetest strains, and who, by no small coincidence, reminded her quite a bit of Leon.

Even now, she thought of that boy fondly while she looked at Leon, who suddenly looked a little perplexed.

"What's wrong?" Sherry asked, leaning toward him. They had slowed down and were pulling off the highway.

"Gas," Leon replied simply as he rode out the turn of the steering wheel.

From the back seat, Claire sighed. "Leave it to my brother not to fill up the tank." She ran a hand through the tangled mess that had been her ponytail, or tried to, and grunted for her efforts. "I really should know better," she muttered.

Sherry leaned between the two front seats to look at Claire. "Do you think I could get a soda when we stop? I'm really thirsty."

Claire grinned. "Ask the cash-man," she chuckled, pointing at Leon.

Sherry gave Leon her best puppy eyes and batted her lashes. "Ple-e-ease, Leon?"

Leon held up a hand in surrender as they pulled into the gas station. "Okay. I could use some caffeine, too." He craned his neck around to look at Claire. "Does her majesty want anything?"

Claire shook her head. "No. I'll just steal whatever you get." She offered him a coy smile.

"Right," Leon said stonily, then stepped out of the car. As he shut the door, he leaned over it and gave them both a mocking glare from over his sunglasses. He said in a thick Austrian accent, "I'll be back," and Sherry laughed. Then, he pointed at Claire. "Don't touch anything."

Sherry giggled as Claire called after him: "Yes, Warden!"

The two young women sat there for a moment in silence before Sherry leaned into the back seat and whispered: "So how are you and Leon doing?" Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Same as always," Claire responded with a shrug, refusing to give in to the girl's prodding.

Sherry rolled her eyes. "Come on, Claire! We're friends, right? You can tell me."

Claire squinted at the younger girl. "I didn't think you'd want to talk about Leon."

Sherry waved her hand. "Oh, please," she said, affecting nonchalance. "He's so last year." She smiled wide. "Besides, I want to hear about you. You know, the adventures of an older woman."

Claire coughed, but she was smiling, too. "Sherry! I'm not that much older than you, you know."

Sherry sat back in her seat as she saw Leon approaching, carrying straws and two bottles of soda in his hands and a candy bar in his mouth.

He handed Sherry one of the bottles and Claire the other, saying around the candy bar: "Har ya go."

Sherry opened the bottle and stuck in her straw, taking a big slurp. "Mmm. Thanks, Leon."

He patted her on the head as he went for the pump. "Don't mention it, kiddo." He had just started to fill the tank when Sherry cleared her throat.

"Leon?" She smiled sweetly. "Can I have a candy bar, too?"

"Sure," Leon said simply. He reached into his pocket and started to dig for change, when Sherry interrupted him again.

"Um, could you go get it?"

If his eyes hadn't been behind his sunglasses, Sherry would have seen him give her a confused, disbelieving stare. As it was, he stood there, dumbfounded. Finally, he put his hand on the car and leaned over her. "You know, I'm starting to think you don't want me around."

Sherry snickered. "No. It's just that you're already out of the car, and I can never decide on what I want, and you have pretty good taste in chocolate, and-"

Leon acquiesced. "All right, I get it. You two can gossip away while I'm gone. Just watch the pump for me, okay?"

Sherry nodded swiftly and grinned. "No problem, cap'n!"

While Leon walked away again, Sherry turned back to Claire. "Okay, so tell me everything." She took another big drag from her soda in anxious anticipation.

"Tell you what?" Claire laughed. She'd been amused by watching Sherry and Leon go back and forth like a pair of rowdy siblings. Their relationship reminded her a lot of herself and her brother Chris.

"Have you...? You know," Sherry whispered slyly. She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger and pushed her sticky straw through it, back and forth.

The shock Claire felt made her jaw drop. "Sherry!" She started to chuckle nervously. "I can't believe you asked me that."

"It's a logical assumption," the younger girl offered in her defense.

Claire pushed Sherry's hands down. "Stop that before somebody sees you."

"So you haven't?"

"Sherry..."

"So you have!"

Claire shook her head as she tried to keep herself from laughing. "I don't kiss and tell."

"I didn't ask if you'd kissed..." Sherry scoffed.

"Quiet," Claire hissed, shoving Sherry away playfully. She pointed over her opposite shoulder at Leon, who was ambling back up to the car.

Leon handed Sherry the extra candy bar and asked, "Are we done?"

"Sort of," Sherry responded with a shrug.

Leon sighed. "I mean, is the tank full yet?"

"Oh." Sherry gasped suddenly. "Oops! I forgot all about it." She offered Leon a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Leon."

With an amiable smile, Leon waved away her concern. "Don't worry about it. It must take more than twenty bucks to fill this baby, anyway." He gave the girls a long look, but he was smiling, too. "Can we get going, or do you want to send me on another errand?"

"No," Claire chuckled. "We're fine now."

"All right, then," Leon said, bowing low as he replaced the gas cap. He slid across the front hood of the car like a TV action star, then grinned at Sherry through the windshield. "I love doing that," he told her as he slipped back into the driver's seat. He gunned the engine and leered into the rearview mirror. "Fasten your seatbelts, ladies."

"Woo hoo!" Sherry shouted as they tore away from the station, back toward the highway.

After several miles and more than a few arguments over what radio station was going to be played, the trio pulled up to the spacious cottage that Barry had rented for the occasion. It was suitably secluded, set far back from even the regular street, in a slightly woodsy area. There was a stone walkway that led up to the main door, and a small, unblocked porch where someone had left a stack of books, presumably for recreation. It was only two stories high, but the amount of windows suggested that most of the second floor were separate rooms. The overall sight reminded Sherry of an old-time Christmas display.

"Wow," Sherry breathed as they started up the walkway. She was impressed; Barry's tastes might be sedentary, but it was taste nonetheless. "You guys go all out."

Claire hopped up onto the porch in three quick, easy bounds. She knocked on the door, then pushed it open. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Sherry heard a man call from somewhere inside, and Claire walked in confidently.

Leon extended an arm before Sherry. "After you, miss."

Sherry curtsied playfully and giggled. "Why, thank you, sir." Then she followed Claire into the cottage, tracing the older girl's steps.

Chris, Claire's brother, walked up to them. He gave Claire a rough hug and then turned to Sherry. "Good to see you again, Sherry," he said amicably, extending his hand to her.

Sherry took his hand and pumped it quickly. "You, too, Mr. Redfield."

Claire snorted a laugh, and Chris promptly corrected her: "Just Chris is fine, Sherry."

Sherry grinned, her cheeks reddening a little. "Okay. Chris, then."

Claire took her hand. "Come on, I'll show you around. We can get settled upstairs later." She pulled the younger girl toward the kitchen, and the sound of a radio and clanging pans, while Leon followed behind them.

Upon entering the kitchen, Sherry was instantly overcome by the rich smell of hearty food and the bustling action of a cook in the act of preparation. There was little real activity overall, but the newness of it all made it seem like a circus to her unprepared eye.

Rebecca Chambers, the pretty, chocolate-haired young medic who was between Claire and Sherry in age, was sitting on a stool swinging her legs to the beat of the radio music. She looked up from a magazine and smiled a hello as Claire pointed her out.

"You remember Rebecca Chambers, right?" Claire asked Sherry. "And Jill Valentine?" She indicated a tall, shapely woman who was as fair as cream and as beautiful as a movie star, chopping vegetables at the counter.

"Hello," Sherry said to both of them.

"And this," Claire interjected before either Rebecca or Jill could respond, "is Mr. Carlos Oliveira."

Sherry looked up at Carlos, who was hovering over the steaming pot on the stove, in a new kind of awe. He was very tall, taller than Leon, and broad like a bodybuilder. His dark hair was long enough that he had to blow it out of his eyes every second or two, but not long enough to be scraggly. He had a swarthy complexion that was not unpleasant; in fact, it gave him a warm, friendly, sensual aura, especially when he smiled.

"Hello," Carlos said with a happy grin, and Sherry thought she might faint.

"Wow," Sherry said again, under her breath. Then she forced herself to smile, and she put her hand out in a crisp, business-like manner. "Hola. I mean, hello, Mr. Oliveira," she said, her tongue tripping only slightly over his name.

Carlos backed away from the hot stovetop and wiped his hands on his jeans. He took Sherry's hand in his and bowed low at the waist, like a courtier. Then, with slow deliberation, he kissed her hand quickly but sincerely. When he looked up at her again, he winked and smiled wide. "Nice to meet you, Sherry."

Behind them, Rebecca and Claire started to giggle. Jill rolled her eyes and shook her head, then turned back to chopping vegetables. And Leon, holding both of Sherry's bags, stood there watching them, his nostrils flaring and cop instincts screaming.

2 - Choice And Consequence (Jill)

Jill Valentine took a deep breath of the country air and smiled. She had grown up a city girl, but there was something quaint and relaxing about the countryside, a beauty that she couldn't deny. As she stood on the porch of the large cottage, looking out over the stone path and the light forest, she found it hard to think of a better place to be at the moment.

She pushed herself off of the wooden patio and started to jog at a comfortable pace, and she let her mind wander.

Jill had always enjoyed the seclusion of running. It gave her time to herself, and time to think. There were no worries, just the pumping of her legs and the hot tension of her muscles as they worked her up to a slow, comfortable sweat. Back when she was in the Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S. force, she would spend at least some time every day devoted only to her running. It had brought her peace, and focus. She could concentrate without distraction, and sometimes she was even able to reach a clarity in her thought that would help her break a case.

This day, she found herself thinking not about her days with the S.T.A.R.S., or about trading information (which had been Barry Burton's flimsy excuse for this get-together), but about her personal life, of all things.

When she had first arrived at the cottage, she had not been quite prepared for finding both Chris Redfield and Carlos Oliveira waiting for her, both of them with open arms. Rather than make the situation uncomfortable for either of them, she decided to stay professional and aloof: she would pay neither one any extra attention, which could be construed the wrong way. The last thing Jill needed was to have the two of them fighting over her like children.

As it turned out, things between Chris and Carlos were much smoother than she expected. They were at least tolerant of each other, which, Jill supposed, was about the best she could hope for, given Chris' patented Redfield temper and Carlos' flirty, jaunty nature.

As she ran, Jill compared the two men in her mind.

Chris Redfield was an old and dear friend of hers. They had been together in the S.T.A.R.S. for a long time, even before the Spencer Estate debacle. And that adventure had only seemed to cement their relationship. She had started to realize that she had deeper feelings than simple friendship for Chris. He was brash and hotheaded, but he could also be very caring and protective. It was evident whenever he was with his little sister Claire.

Jill was attracted to Chris, and she respected him deeply. Perhaps if he hadn't been in such a hurry to rush off to Europe, things might have been different. As it was, after the disbandment of the S.T.A.R.S. following the Spencer Estate mission, Chris had hightailed it overseas to get to the bottom of the Umbrella conspiracy, leaving Jill in the dark and in the lurch. If it weren't for Carlos Oliveira, she might not have even been able to get out of Raccoon City alive.

Carlos had helped her many times in Raccoon, in her conflicts with Umbrella's nightmare monsters and that Tyrant-class creature that Umbrella had code-named Nemesis. He had also saved her life when she'd been infected with the T-Virus. She didn't like to think about what would have happened to her if Carlos had not been there to help. She would be dead, certainly, given the destruction of Raccoon, but prior to that she could have suffered much worse than merciful death.

Carlos Oliveira could be a real bastard sometimes: he was cocky and more than a little conceited, but he had also shown her a deep compassion during those first days after Raccoon. When Jill had gone looking for Chris in desperation, Carlos had been right by her side, despite that his joining her implied desertion to the team of mercenaries for which he worked.

In a rare moment alone, in the darkness of Chris' empty apartment, Carlos had embraced her as she broke down, a sobbing, sniffling mess with no direction. He hadn't said a word; he had just stroked her hair, waiting for her to be ready to move on. Eventually, she had been able to dry her tears and compose herself. They had never spoken of the encounter again, but after that, Jill had gained a deeply-rooted respect for Carlos that she hadn't had before. And she had found herself thinking that, perhaps, a life with Carlos Oliveira might be what she was looking for.

But then Chris had appeared again, in perfect shape after the Ashford mess. Jill hadn't known what to do at the time, so she had run, under the pretense of collecting data about Umbrella and Bioject. She had even spurned Carlos' attempts to come with her; she had needed time to think more than the comfort of a warm body.

Even through her exertion haze, Jill realized that things were no more clear now than they had been two years ago. Chris, Carlos; Carlos, Chris. The whole situation gave her a massive migraine.

Jill slowed down to a walk and checked her pulse subconsciously; her body went through the motions without her being quite aware of it. She took several deep breaths, swinging her arms as she ambled back toward the cottage.

When she broke into the clearing near the stone path, she saw Barry and Carlos starting up the van. Barry waved to her, and she waved back.

"'Morning there, girl!" Barry said with typical good nature. He still reminded Jill of a young Santa Claus. "We're headed into town for supplies. Want to come?"

Jill took a glance at Carlos' hopeful smile and instantly retreated, but she smiled to cover her anxiety. "No, thanks," she said, fanning her face with the loose collar of her sweatshirt. "I think I'm going to clean up. Have fun!" She waved again and trotted toward the patio.

"Your loss!" Carlos called after her, and then the van pulled away down the little drive path.

Jill turned around when she reached the door. She watched the van drive away, past the curve where the trees obscured her view. She stood there watching that empty space for a long minute. Then she shook her head and pushed open the door to the cottage.

She was immediately greeted by the smell of coffee and cooking fat wafting through the room. Her stomach growled.

Jill walked into the kitchen, fully expecting a mess. The first few days at the cottage, it had been just her, Barry, Chris, and Carlos, but even their different dietary preferences made meals a nightmare. She didn't really want to see what havoc four additional people could wreak.

So she was pleasantly surprised to find things relatively in order.

Sherry Birkin, the girl whom Chris' sister Claire had helped escape from Raccoon, and Rebecca Chambers, the lone surviving member of the first team to investigate the Spencer Estate, were sitting at the island, chatting nonstop while they munched on their breakfasts. Both girls (Jill couldn't bring herself to think of them as anything but) were still in their pajamas. They looked up from their plates and said hello, then continued giggling. She heard the word "Carlos" whispered somewhere in their conversation, so she decided to leave them be.

At the stove, Leon Kennedy was turning over some thick pancakes in one pan and shaking another pan full of bacon. He managed to slide a full portion to a plate and offer some to Jill as she walked in. "Hungry?" He put the plate down on the island before moving back behind the stove.

"It's really good," Sherry piped up. Rebecca nodded as she slathered more syrup onto her stack of pancakes.

Jill chuckled as she took the plate. She bent low to it and smelled deeply. "Mm. Bananas?" She smiled.

Leon nodded. "Yeah. There are some plain ones in the oven, if you want."

Jill shook her head and reached for the syrup. "No, these are fine." She dabbed some syrup methodically onto each pancake, making sure not to let it pool over toward the bacon. She cut off a square from the small stack of pancakes and ate it gingerly, not knowing what to expect. Of the men she'd known, only Barry could really cook.

Chris was a born takeout eater; even when they were in the S.T.A.R.S. together, Jill couldn't remember a time when he ever made anything himself. The times when she had visited his apartment in Raccoon, she noticed that he rarely kept anything on his shelves that didn't have the word "Instant" on it. Peanut butter, maybe, or a loaf of bread.

As for Carlos, Jill hadn't really spent enough personal time around him to know. He had done all right for himself, but she figured that mercenary life could be roughly equated to college dorm life, aside from the heavy weapons training. From the evidence of the last few days, Carlos could handle himself in a kitchen slightly better than Chris, but he had a tendency to shower every appetizer and entree with any spice he could get his hands on. So while they were at the cottage, Barry delegated him to either stirring or dish duty when he was in the kitchen.

Leon pleasantly surprised her, though. This breakfast wasn't five-star material, but it was tasty.

Jill hummed appreciatively. "I didn't know you could cook."

Leon grinned. "Well, I don't trust those two," he said, waving the spatula at Rebecca and Sherry, who giggled again spiritedly. "And someone had to take over after the mess that Claire made."

Jill turned to the last of the quartet as she took another bite of pancake.

Claire Redfield was standing in front of the sink, scrubbing the last of some scorched food from a pan. It seemed she inherited more than just similar looks from her brother Chris. Apparently, neither of them could be trusted with a stove.

"Ha ha," Claire said drolly. She balanced the dripping pan on the drying rack and shot a glare at Leon. "So who wants to be a housewife anyway?"

Leon snickered and held up his arms in surrender. "All I said was-"

"Good morning."

All five of them turned toward the doorway, where Chris ambled in, toweling his hair. He was wearing his old S.T.A.R.S. tee shirt, with the faded white letters on blue background, and a pair of jeans. He gave Jill an especially friendly smile.

"Something smells good in here," Chris said. He gave Claire a look. "I guess you didn't make breakfast."

"See?" Leon laughed.

"Chris!" Claire shouted with suitable indignation.

"I'm kidding," Chris said to appease Claire. He tapped Jill on the shoulder. "Want to do some research with me?"

Jill nearly spat up her food. She hastily backed away from the island, and from Chris, muttering apologies. "Uh, no, I can't. I've got to, uh, clean up and, uh...things." She turned around and nearly bolted for the doorway.

As she walked quickly up the stairs, she heard them talking behind her.

"Jeez, when did you get the plague?" Leon muttered, to which Chris promptly responded:

"Shut up."

Jill rapidly sought refuge in her room, closing the door behind her so swiftly that it made the curtains rustle. She stood with her back against the hard wooden frame and slowly dropped her head into her hands. What a fool she'd been... She could barely speak to Chris, not to mention spend any amount of time alone with him. What had gone wrong for them? Things used to be so easy; she regretted the distance and awkwardness that had somehow come between them. But even that wasn't the worst of it.

Everyone knew about it.

Jill pushed herself up from the door frame and grabbed a bath towel from the unmade bed. Maybe a shower would do her good. It certainly wouldn't make things any worse, and at least she could feel clean again.

She opened the door to the hall and stepped out. From behind her, Chris' voice made her jump.

"Jill."

Jill turned slowly, forcing a smile to her face. "What's up?"

He sighed. "We've got to talk."

"Umbrella?" Jill hazarded, almost hopeful.

Chris shook his head. "Us. Jill, I-"

She held up her free hand. "Chris, I really don't want to get into this right now. I've got a lot on my mind, and I can't...deal with this."

"Deal with what?" Chris asked. "Jill, I just want to talk. We didn't used to be like this. We used to be-" He paused and took a quick moment to look around. Then he continued, quietly, "We used to be partners. I just want to know what happened."

Jill softened. "We're still partners."

"So what's going on with you and Carlos?" Chris asked bluntly.

"We're friends," Jill said quickly, before she even knew what words were going to come out of her mouth.

Chris looked taken aback. "That's it? Just 'friends'? Nothing more...intimate than that?"

Jill put her hands on her hips. "I think that's an awfully personal question."

Chris sighed again. "I just want to know...where I stand. Whatever you decide is fine, but I want you to decide."

Jill looked at him then, really looked at him, for what felt like the first time in years.

How could she have ever doubted her feelings for Chris Redfield? Here he was, standing in front of her, the answer to her every desire, her every need, her every prayer. How could she even consider being with anyone but him?

Jill stepped closer to him and reached her hand toward his face. She touched his cheek, which was warm beneath the skin of her palm. She smiled sweetly. "It's you, Chris. It's always been you."

Then she kissed Chris Redfield, very simply and very quickly, on his lips. And despite her earlier vacillations, thoughts of handsome Carlos Oliveira fled from her mind, as swiftly and easily as night flees from the sun.

3 - That Used To Be Me (Leon)

Rebecca Chambers and Sherry Birkin were still sitting in the kitchen in their pajamas when the bell for the front door rang. Both of them jumped up and scurried to the door as if in a race.

"I'll get it!" Sherry half-laughed, half-shouted.

Rebecca grabbed the younger girl by the arm and yanked her back by the sleeve. "No, I've got it!"

The pair of them jockeyed for first position for a few more seconds, until they got to the front door and were greeted by one grinning Leon Kennedy.

"Just testing the bell, girls," the young man said with a snicker.

Both Rebecca and Sherry noticeably deflated. They turned around, back toward the kitchen, where Jill Valentine was coming down the steps, her strawberry blonde hair half-dried and looking like a scarecrow's crown.

"What's all the excitement about?" Jill asked the girls.

Rebecca's shoulders were slumped as she headed back into the kitchen. "We thought that was Carlos and Barry getting back."

Sherry sniffed. "But it was just Leon."

Jill smiled at Leon, who was bringing up the rear. She whacked him playfully with her comb. "That was pretty mean."

Leon shrugged at her, then called after Sherry: "What do you mean 'just'?"

Jill promptly whacked him again, then went back to combing her hair.

Rebecca shimmied onto her favorite barstool. She granted Leon a small smile. "No offense, Leon."

From her place at the dinner table, Claire Redfield looked up at the others and grinned. She put her chin on her fist and commented, "Face it, Kennedy: Carlos Oliveira's got the mysterioso market cornered."

Leon crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Claire turned back to the automotive magazine she was currently flipping through. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you."

Leon was about to retort when Sherry piped, "He's just so...different from ordinary guys."

"Exotic," Rebecca agreed.

The two girls looked at each other again and grinned. "Handsome," they said together, adding an exaggerated sigh at the end.

Jill and Claire both laughed, but Leon just rolled his eyes and humphed. He opened his mouth again, to say something suitably scathing, when the doorbell rang again.

"It's him!" Rebecca cried, and with a mutual squeal of delight, she and Sherry thundered toward the front room again, nearly bowling over Leon in the process.

There was a small commotion from the front room, and Leon heard Barry's distinctive basso barking out greetings to the girls. Sherry and Rebecca started shouting happily, and then Carlos started to laugh. The door slammed again, and after a few moments Barry entered the kitchen, alone and looking quite tired.

"Woof!" Barry said, wiping his brow. He pulled out one of the dinner table chairs and sat down hard. "And I thought my girls had energy."

Jill laughed as she sat down next to Barry. "Are you talking about Rebecca and Sherry, or about Carlos?"

"Both," Barry responded with a wide smile, and Jill laughed again.

Leon leaned back against the table, his gaze settled firmly on the front room and arms still akimbo. He furrowed his brow and snorted. "What's so great about Carlos, anyway?"

Claire closed her magazine with an exasperated sigh. "Jeez, change that record, why don't you?"

Leon pointed abstractly toward the patio, where he could see the shapes of Carlos, Rebecca, and Sherry setting something up. "I just don't see why the guy's such a hot commodity."

Barry leaned in to Jill with a sardonic grin. "Care to field that one, Jill?"

To her credit, Jill took a moment to formulate her response. Finally, she said, "You heard them: he's an enigma. He's uncharted territory. Carlos just...breaks all the regular rules."

"He's a 'bad boy,'" Claire offered, making quotation marks gestures with her fingers.

Jill nodded. "Exactly."

"And you're jealous," Claire told Leon smugly.

Leon pulled out a chair for himself and sat down forcefully. "I am not jealous of that arrogant jackass," he said adamantly.

Barry burst out laughing. "Oh, no," he grinned. "No, you're not jealous at all."

"I'm not," Leon protested. He crossed his arms on the table and put his chin down on them, and he began to sulk.

Claire pursed her lips at Leon, then poked him good-naturedly. "Oh, stop." She cocked her head in the direction of the staircase, where Chris entered the room. "If my brother can get over him, so can you."

Chris came over to the impromptu psych session and pulled out the chair next to Jill. He asked with a smile, "Get over who?"

"Carlos," Jill told him.

Chris' smile promptly fell. "Oh." He sat down amid silence.

"See what I mean?" Leon said, indicating Chris as some kind of proof, though proof of what he wasn't sure. "I'm not the only one who has a problem with Carlos."

"I didn't say I had a problem with him," Chris corrected. "I just don't care for the guy."

Claire leaned over to her brother conspiratorially. "Come on, Chris. You mean to tell me you're not just a little jealous of Carlos?" She made a tiny size estimation gesture with her thumb and forefinger and squinted through the space.

Chris glanced at Jill, who blushed slightly. "Nope," he said proudly.

"Huh." Claire sat back defeated, her argument having disintegrated for the moment. "Well," she began again, "at least you don't see my brother pouting like a little kid."

Jill cocked her head at Leon. She asked quietly, "Do you really dislike Carlos that much?" Beside her, Chris gave her a strange, almost startled look.

Leon thought about the question for a long moment in silence, while the others waited for him to answer.

Now that he thought about it, Carlos wasn't really all that bad; he had helped Jill get out of Raccoon alive, and he had been able to get a lot of information from his old mercenary contacts over the years, when the group had needed it. There was no really good reason for him to stick around and keep risking his neck for all of them; Leon was sure that a man as competent with a gun as Carlos was could have no trouble finding work as a merc with some other outfit, or even as a self-sufficient bounty hunter. Over his time with the government, Leon had certainly met lesser men than Carlos who made a for-hire profession work for them. So there was no rational reason for him to hate the guy.

As if on cue, there was a shrill cry of delight from the patio, and Leon realized why Carlos - the great, handsome mystery man - bothered him so much.

Leon sat up wearily and started to scratch at something unseen on the table surface. "It's not Carlos," he told Jill softly. "Not really."

"Then what is it?" Jill asked gently. She gave him a little smile, as if she knew what he was thinking.

Leon glanced at her, then out toward the patio, where Carlos and the girls were laughing about something or other. "I guess..." He shrugged, helplessly, and turned back to the table. "Sherry used to look at me that way."

Most of the table sat there silently, but Claire burst out: "I don't believe this! A year ago, you couldn't wait to get away from Sherry, and now all you want her to do is hang around you?"

Leon shook his head. "It's not that! It's just..."

"You're jealous of him," Chris said calmly, reiterating his sister's argument of only a few minutes ago.

Leon sighed. "Come on. Sherry's like..." He searched for the right words. "She's like my little sister. Chris, if somebody looked at your little sister like that -"

Chris gave Leon a silent, stony stare.

Leon paused, then turned to Jill. "Jill, if somebody looked at your little sister like that," and Jill laughed spiritedly, but Leon continued unabated: "You'd know how I feel."

"I know how you feel," Chris offered, and Claire shot him an icy glare from across the table.

Jill smiled good naturedly. "Leon, I'm going to tell you what I told Chris when he complained about the same thing. Girls don't stay girls forever. Whether you like it or not, they do grow up. They do become young women. And no matter how hard you try to keep them sheltered, young women, for the most part, like young men." She sat back and sighed softly. "She's just growing up."

Barry nodded his agreement. "Take it from a father of two girls," he said somberly. "They do what they want, regardless of what you think is right for them."

Claire grabbed Leon by the arm and shook him. "Admit it: Carlos is a pretty okay guy. If she's got to like somebody, at least it's somebody we know and trust. And she's finally over you."

Leon glanced at her, sighing again. "I guess. But did she have to do it so fast?"

Barry stood up and walked around to Leon's side of the table. He put a hand down on the younger man's head and ruffled his hair with a grin. "I know what you mean, kid. It's nice to be the center of a pretty girl's attention, even if you know it's just a phase." He paused to wink at Claire knowingly, and Chris and Jill gave a short chorus of chuckles.

After a moment, Barry raised and dropped his shoulders, once again assuming command of the situation. "But now I think it's time for me to see what trouble those three have gotten themselves into." He put a fatherly hand on Leon's shoulder. "Care to join me?"

Leon shook his head miserably. "Nah."

Barry patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Don't take it so hard. It's best to just move on."

"Yeah," Leon agreed, though he didn't sound very convincing. "Right."

Jill pushed herself up from the table. "Well, I'll go with you, Barry." She took a moment to give Chris a meaningful look. "I need to talk to Carlos."

As Jill and Barry left the room, Claire leaned in to Leon again.

"Barry's right," Claire told him quietly. "Besides, you know Sherry still thinks the world of you."

"Really?" Leon asked with a slow smile.

Claire chuckled. "Yeah! And you're a terrific big brother for her." She chucked him under the chin. "Take it from somebody who knows about terrific big brothers."

Leon looked at her, into those wide, gray eyes of hers that understood him so well. Claire saw him as he was, without the self-inflicted doubts and shortcomings. Maybe the others were right; maybe it was time for Leon Scott Kennedy to stop worrying about the little girl in his life, and to start thinking about the woman he wanted in it.

"Thanks," Leon said softly, smiling at her.

Chris rattled his chair as he stood up, in an attempt to break the silence and to give Leon and Claire a little forewarning. When they looked at him, he said, "Speaking of big brothers..." He put his hands in his pockets nervously. "Uh, Claire, can I talk to you about something?"

Claire glanced at Leon, who nodded his assent. She got up and walked to Chris. "Sure," she said, and the Redfields walked to the front room. Soon the front door opened and closed, and Leon was alone again.

Leon sat there, listening only halfheartedly to the muffled voices outside. The chorus of different pitches eventually died to a quiet hum, and after a few moments, the door opened and closed again, and Sherry bounded back into the house, the patter of her still-slippered feet scuffling against the hardwood floor.

She sat down next to Leon and made her own little commotion of straightening her hair and clothes. She looked at him, closely, and stopped fidgeting. "What's wrong?"

Leon turned to her and gave her a gentle smile. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

Sherry hit him in the arm, a little hard. "Don't tell me that!"

Leon rubbed his arm self-consciously. He hadn't realized how strong she'd gotten; he kept thinking of her as being twelve, not sixteen.

She gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry." Then that stern look was back on her young, fresh face. "I worry about you all the time, you know."

Leon chuckled, suddenly amused by the notion of that role-reversal. "Why would you worry about me?"

Sherry turned in her seat and brought her legs up, to sit Indian-style. She threw up her arms in exasperation. "Because you don't take care of yourself, you big dummy! You live all alone, you work like a gazillion hours a week, and you're too busy looking out for everybody else that you don't look out for yourself."

Leon just sat and stared at her, stunned speechless by her evaluation.

Sherry sighed and dropped her voice to a low hush. "You spend too much time listening to this," and she tapped him on his forehead, "instead of listening to this," she finished, punctuating her statement with a jab in his chest.

Leon managed to say, "I don't want you worrying about me."

Sherry smiled at him. "I don't want you worrying about me, either. I can take care of myself, you know." She half-turned from him, giving him a sidelong glance.

"I noticed," Leon chuckled, and he rubbed his arm for emphasis. "But I can take care of myself, too."

Sherry nodded. "Yeah, I know." She stuck out her hand. "Let's call it even, then. I won't worry about you, and you won't worry about me."

Leon shook his head with a smile. "I don't think I can make a promise like that."

Sherry giggled. "Me, neither. You've got this way of rubbing off on people."

"So do you," Leon told her, continuing their verbal tennis match. He felt her eyes on him, as if studying him, or trying to figure out his next move.

Suddenly, Sherry stopped the game. She got up from her chair and hugged him tightly around the neck. "Thanks, Leon," she muttered quietly. "You're still the best."

To his surprise, Leon found himself hugging her in return. He suddenly realized how good it felt to have her here, his little sister.

4 - Adios Y Hola (Carlos)

Carlos Oliveira smiled that cool, sexy grin of his as he watched Jill Valentine approach him. He had met and even wooed many girls in his life, but Jill wasn't like any of them. She was all woman. And every time he looked at her, he was reminded of how God had made woman, and what a make she was. His heart jumped a little when she called his name, and another part of his anatomy jumped when she smiled at him.

"Carlos!" Jill waved to him. She pointed off toward the trees. "Care to take a walk with me?"

Carlos threw the keys to the van over his shoulder playfully, leaving Barry to dive for them. "To the ends of the earth, chica." He sauntered after her, watching her shapely hips for a few long strides. Damn, but she was beautiful! He wasn't certain what he had done good in his life to have ended up with Jill Valentine, but whatever it was, he was thankful for it. He shook his head and grinned. "Madre," he muttered.

They walked for a few minutes, while Carlos matched her stride for stride and admired her, not too subtly. Vaguely, he became aware of their increasing solitude, until they happened upon a small dip in the earth that led down to a burbling brook. A few birds twittered nearby, though Carlos couldn't see any; and the branches high overhead moved back and forth, giving proof to some animal life above. From a few breaks in the trees sunlight streamed down, and the bobbing rays played across Jill's face like they would an angel's. Carlos knew that she was beautiful, but here, now, she looked absolutely heavenly.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Jill asked. She took a deep breath.

Carlos' eyes never left her. He leered at her, half-playful, half-serious. "Definitely."

Jill looked back at him. After a second, she understood what he was talking about, and she laughed. He had a talent for amusing her. "I mean the view."

Carlos laughed with her. "So did I!"

Jill touched him on the arm, and Carlos practically beamed from such attention. "Stop being silly."

He shook his head very gently. "I'm not."

Jill's wide smile faded to a small one. "Uh, right." She turned away from him and sat down on the angled earth. "Look, Carlos, I don't really know how to say this."

Carlos straightened up. He ran a hand through his unruly brown hair and smirked. He should have seen this coming, actually. A walk in the woods, just the two of them, with no one around to disturb them. No one around to see Carlos get dumped. But he wasn't about to make it easy for her.

He sat down next to her and forced a congenial grin to his face. "Yeah, I know. No woman can help it. They all fall hopelessly in love with me."

Jill looked at him, looked deep into his dark eyes, and smiled, but sadly. "You're an amazing man," she murmured. She reached for his hand. "I don't think I could have...I know I couldn't have made it out of Raccoon without you. You've been such a good friend-"

Carlos laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, that's me. Everybody's favorite buddy."

Jill shook her head. "Please." She leaned in toward him, in a move that he would have considered intimate if it weren't for the words coming from her lips. "Carlos, I'm sure that there's some wonderful, beautiful woman out there who's perfect for you."

There is, Carlos thought ruefully as he studied her face. But he kept his mouth shut.

"But it's not me," she whispered.

Carlos waited a full minute before letting her have it. "How do you know? You haven't given me a chance." He wasn't angry, and he tried his best not to sound it. But there was still an edge to his voice that he'd never used with her before. "You keep pushing me away, Jill. Three years, and all I've been able to do is hold your hand. Sometimes I wonder if you even want me around at all."

Jill sat back. "I'm trying to be fair to you. I don't want to start something that I don't know if I can finish."

"Like what? Start what? Jill, I'm not proposing. I'm just asking you to give me the same chance you'd give anyone."

She bolted up from her seat, tears threatening her eyes and a sob clutching at her throat. "I don't give anyone the chance! Don't you understand? I've lived my whole life not letting anyone in! And now, I'm stuck in this - this fucked up, unrealized relationship, and it's cost me years and friendships and - and my sanity!" She dropped to her knees beside him. She looked at him, and though there were tears in her eyes, her voice was strong. "I don't want to run away anymore, Carlos. I want to start living my life again."

Carlos kept his impassive mask for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Then live it."

He grabbed her fiercely, one hand behind her neck, and nearly crushed her against him in a powerful kiss, the most powerful kiss he'd ever given anyone. They fell to the ground together, their tongues dueling and hands groping each other. They wrestled hotly for a few long minutes, rolling and grinding on the ground. Jill threw her legs around him and he lavished her neck with quick, anxious licks and kisses. They met for another kiss, one more needful than before, until finally Carlos pulled away from her.

He looked at her, his eyes searching. He couldn't help the disappointed, shamed look that flashed across his face. "Tell me how that felt."

Jill closed the top of her button-down shirt, which she had nearly torn open in those few lustful but meaningful moments. "Carlos..." She was breathless and flushed, and though he was certain that she didn't know what to say to him, he made the decision for her.

"Redfield doesn't know what he's missing," he said, then got up and started to walk back toward the cottage.

Jill followed him, tucking her shirt back into her shorts and straightening her hair. "Carlos, wait."

He glanced back at her, amused that she was hurrying after him like some schoolgirl. He smiled, but kept on walking. "How's that?"

Jill grabbed him by the arm. "What the hell was that all about?"

Carlos grinned. "Now you know what it's like to live life." He winked and nudged her. "But only just barely."

From behind him, he heard her say aloud: "Am I supposed to understand any of this?"

Carlos shrugged. "That's life, chica!"

He left her standing there, for all he knew cursing the heavens for having let him walk away from her. Well, she brought it on herself. There were plenty of other fish in the sea, though probably none like Jill Valentine. Still, her talk about living life had gotten to him a little. Time for Mrs. Oliveira's bambino to stop waiting around for Miss Wrong and get on with things. He hopped up the stone path toward the cottage, whistling beneath his breath.

Rebecca had perched herself on the edge of the porch, her bare legs dangling, reading a book. She glanced up and smiled as Carlos came near. "Finish your walk?"

Carlos leaned against the porch. He turned to face out toward the trees, where Jill was just now coming up toward the house again. He shrugged. "I'm not much of an outdoorsman." He let one hand move idly toward Rebecca's silky leg. "I prefer things a little more...intimate."

Rebecca blushed deeply. She put down her book and tossed her head at him. "What a coincidence. So do I."

Carlos pushed himself up and made for the door. As he walked up the steps, he grinned roguishly at the young woman. "I'll have to remember that."

He chucked Rebecca under the chin and was about to really pour on the charm when someone smashed into him from behind. Carlos toppled onto Rebecca clumsily, all of his coolness suddenly gone.

"What-?"

"Claire, wait!" Chris Redfield came running up the steps, two at a time, and went straight for the door, without even stopping to regard Carlos and Rebecca.

Jill, though, had just reached the house right when Chris barrelled through the door after Claire. She stopped on the penultimate step and shook her head at Carlos. "Men," she whispered under her breath.

5 - Don't Leave Me (Chris)

Chris Redfield put an arm around his little sister as they walked to the far side of the cottage. He wanted to get as far away from the others as he could; this was not going to be easy.

"Why so quiet all of a sudden?" Claire asked with a chuckle. She had been enjoying razzing Leon inside, and she was still feeling a little of that high as she and Chris walked together.

Chris stopped her. He looked at her in silence, then hugged her. "God, Claire."

Claire returned his embrace, but haltingly. "Hey, big brother..." They had always been close, even as children, but generous outpourings of emotion were not Chris' style, and they made her uncomfortable.

Chris pushed away from her and smiled. "Sorry. It's just hard for me to let go." He held her cheek in his palm. "You're still my kid sister, you know?"

Claire touched his hand. "And I always will be." Her eyes searched his, and suddenly she became very sober. "What's wrong?"

Chris turned away from her and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He looked out over the flora, as if in distraction, when in fact it all helped him to concentrate. When they were children, it was always difficult to come out and just say what he felt.

No one in their family had ever been very reserved - Chris remembered with equal fondness how he and Claire had laughed exuberantly over Christmas presents, and how they had cried for days on end after their father died, leaving them truly alone. After that, he had found Claire a good psychiatrist to help her through it all. But without telling her, he had seen one, too. It was a necessary step for him, to get on with his life, but since then, he had always had trouble expressing himself, especially to Claire.

Ever since they were children, he had always wanted to shelter Claire, to protect her from anything that the world could throw at her. It was the reason why he had kept her in the dark about Umbrella. It was the reason why he couldn't bear to see her keep going into battle, when he had no idea what consequence it would bring.

In Antarctica, it had torn him up on the inside to see her hurt. He had wanted to kill Wesker for threatening her. He still wanted to kill Wesker for it. And, despite his rational side, he had even wanted to throttle that Burnside kid, for exposing Claire to that kind of pain. When he had found her in that closet, sobbing and withdrawn, Chris had wanted nothing more than to just take her away from it all; to wrap her up in his arms and make her forget everything.

When they had returned to the States, it was Jill who finally convinced him that he couldn't, that she had to go through her own pain without him. But Chris fought against that logic with all his might. It was like a little part of him died every time Claire was hurt.

So, he had come to this decision.

"You know," he said softly, "Jill was right. I can't stop you from growing up. But I'm always going to think of you as being that little kid who fell off Dad's bicycle and wore those scrapes proudly, like some kind of badge of honor." He turned to look at her and grinned. "Remember that?"

Claire laughed. "Yeah. You nearly wrapped my whole body up in Ace bandages that day." She stepped up to him and touched his arm. "But you also fixed the seat so that I could ride it the right way." She cocked her head at him, as if trying to guess at his point. "You've never held me back, Chris, and I'm glad for that. You've always let me be my own person, even if it meant going right into the heart of a monster."

Chris turned toward her fully and grabbed her shoulders. "Don't say that, Claire." He shook his head. "This isn't the life I wanted for you."

"Is it the one you wanted for you?" Claire countered.

Chris paused. He brushed some stray bangs from her forehead. "Of course not. But at least I'm ready for it. The Air Force wasn't just drinking games. And the S.T.A.R.S. wasn't just an excuse to get on the city payroll."

Claire squinted at him and backed away. "What are you saying?"

Chris sighed. "Claire." He took a deep breath and fished for the right words, to make it easy on her, to protect her. Finally, he met her quizzical gaze and said, "I want you to go home with Barry."

Claire's face fell. "What?"

Chris opened his arms to her. "Claire, I want you to be safe. My life is dangerous. I don't want you exposed to that."

Claire backed away from him further. Her hands were balled into tight fists. "Hey, I made it through Raccoon - and Antarctica - just fine on my own!"

Chris barked back at her: "You want to end up like your buddy Steve?"

Tears suddenly threatened her, and her lower lip quivered. "I can't believe you said that," she whispered.

He moved to take her in another embrace. "Claire, please, I'm just thinking of you."

"Let go of me," she muttered, struggling away from him.

Chris managed to grab her by the arms, and he forced her to look at him. "Damn it, Claire! I'm trying to take care of you."

Claire yanked herself from his grip and shouted at him: "You're not Daddy!"

Chris' hold went slack and he stared at her, dumb with shock.

Is that what he was trying to do? Be a father to his little sister? It had been so long since there had been anyone else to take care of her; he had gotten used to the idea of being a surrogate parent to her. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had had this same argument with their father when he had announced that he was enlisting in the Air Force.

"I don't like the idea of you being in the military," Henry Redfield had said. His voice was not loud - Chris didn't think he ever shouted - but it carried with it a weight of such purpose and power that Chris had backed down from him.

"It's only three years," Chris had responded. "Then I can go back to school or whatever."

His father had sighed. "Christopher, I didn't raise you to be a grunt."

Chris had thrown up his arms dramatically. "Dad! It's not the Infantry; it's the Air Force. You always said that you wanted me to make something of myself."

"Shooting things doesn't make you a good man." His father had turned back to his paper, as if that was the end of the discussion.

Chris had shoved his hand down on the paper, crushing it to the table. "Why can't you just let me live my own life?"

He couldn't remember what his father had said to that, but he could swear that the look that he had given his father that day could be duplicated on Claire's softer features. She looked almost betrayed, and it cut him to the core to see her so crushed.

Chris opened his mouth to make a rebuttal, but the only thing that came out was: "Claire, I'm sorry."

Claire turned swiftly and charged back for the cottage. "Leave me alone," she said from over her shoulder.

Chris hurried to catch her. He rounded the side of the house just as she smashed into Carlos and Rebecca, who were cavorting on the porch.

"Claire, wait!" Chris called after her, but she didn't even break stride. He bolted up the steps, nearly tripping over Carlos' sprawled legs. One part of his mind noticed that Carlos wasn't in much of a hurry to extract himself from Rebecca's impromptu embrace, which meant that Jill's talk with him must have went well. If only he'd fared as well with Claire.

When he got inside, he saw her trailing ponytail round the wall of the stairwell, and then she was gone. A few seconds later, one of the upstairs doors slammed shut.

"Hey, Claire!" Leon Kennedy was already at the foot of the steps, calling up to her. He looked at Chris. "What the heck happened?"

Chris sat down at the large dining table. He waved a hand in front of his face, then held his head. "I don't know."

Leon waved an arm toward the upstairs. "Well, something's gotten to her!"

"Look-!" Chris began, angry at the younger man for pressing him on the subject; angry at Claire for not listening to him; and mostly angry at himself for not being the brother that he had always wanted to be. Then, he stopped and thought for a moment.

It really was his fault, now that he considered it. The only reason Claire had been in Raccoon at all was because she had gone looking for him. Same thing with that Ashford mess. They were lucky to have found each other, but ever since he had said goodbye to her - that pretty little girl with the pigtails - the day that he left for boot camp, they hadn't really been together. Not in the same way that they had been growing up.

He had missed so much of her life, those important years between girlhood and womanhood. She was like some mystery to him now. Women were a mystery unto themselves, but Claire even moreso. Once, he had known her like she was a piece of himself; now, she was her own person, someone separate from him. It made him proud to think of her as a strong, capable young woman. And it made him sad to think that she no longer needed him, that it was time for him to let go of her.

Chris looked up at Leon, who was waiting for him to answer.

He realized that, of anyone, Leon probably knew Claire the best. He had been with her in Raccoon, and afterward, until she had run off to Europe. When the S.T.A.R.S. had regrouped last year, Leon had offered to bring Sherry Birkin along, as an excuse to reunite with Claire, he suspected. Claire never spoke of Leon in anything more than friendly terms, but it grated on Chris' nerves even so. He guessed that it was because Leon had become more of a brother to her than he was. As much as he hated to consider that Claire's relationship with Leon was anything more than platonic (Chris couldn't be sure; he didn't have the balls to ask her about it forthright), it seemed like the younger man was his only resource now.

Chris stood up and walked over to the stairs. "Leon," he began, meeting the other man's gaze slowly. "Talk to her for me," he said softly. "She'll listen to you."

"Uh," Leon stammered. He wasn't used to Chris putting any kind of faith in him. Then he nodded. "Sure."

Chris put a hand on Leon's shoulder. "Thanks," he muttered.

Leon nodded again, then walked up the stairs slowly.

Chris stood by the foot of the stairs, listening. He heard Leon knock on one of the doors, and then some hushed talking. He heard the door open and then close, and that was all.

He turned around, and Jill was there. It had been a long time since Chris had been so happy to see a friendly face.

"Hey," Jill said with a comforting smile. "How'd it go?"

Chris pointed toward the top of the stairs. "How do you think?"

Jill held his arm. "Don't take it so hard. She'll come around." She started to lead him back to the living room.

Chris followed her lead, his steps sluggish. "I hope so," he murmured. He sat down on the sofa and held his head in his hands. "I don't want to screw this up, Jill."

She patted his knee. "You won't. She's a Redfield. You're all just bull-headed, that's all."

Chris chuckled softly. Then he sobered again. "I just want what's best for her. Why can't she see that?"

"She will," Jill told him. "Just give her some time. Claire's a smart, tough girl."

Chris shook his head. "No. She's a woman. That's what makes this so hard."

Jill combed her hand through his hair and leaned against his arm. They sat there in silence, waiting, together.

6 - Look At The Two Of Us (Claire)

Claire Redfield slammed the bedroom door behind her and collapsed against it, as tears threatened.

She covered her mouth with her hand as she thought of Chris' words: "I want you to go home with Barry." He might as well have said, "Get out of my face, I can't deal with you anymore." Because that was certainly what it felt like to her.

How could her own brother push her away like that, after everything that they'd been through? After Raccoon, after Antarctica, after all of the sleepless nights spent curled up against him like a child, what had it gotten her? She had gone through hell to find him, and this was her reward.

Claire broke down full-force, her body wracked by her sobs. She fell onto the bed and started to weep heavily into the pillow clutched by her face.

Without Chris, she was alone. Sure, she had friends, but they weren't her brother. They weren't her blood. Even Steve, the boy for whom she'd felt such fondness at one time, paled in comparison to Chris. She had never looked at any man in the same way before or since. Part of the reason was that she didn't want to open herself up to that kind of hurt again. But more than that, she doubted that anyone could live up to the male standard that Chris had created in her mind.

Chris was everything to her: father on the nights when she had to be rocked to sleep; son when she was needed to confide in; friend when she had nowhere else to turn. In her more introspective moments, Claire even wondered if Chris represented what she was looking for in a man. He was certainly the closest thing to her ideal companion.

None of his good qualities, though, stopped Claire from hating him at that moment. She pounded a fist into the pillow and began to cry again.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Go away," Claire snapped, unable to control the cracking of her voice.

"Claire?" It was Leon Kennedy who whispered back, through the door. "Are you okay?"

Claire continued to lay on the bed, thinking over her options. Leon might not be as persistent as Chris, but he came a close second; she knew that he would stand outside her door all day if she didn't do something about it. And dealing with Kennedy was infinitely more preferable than dealing with Chris again, at least right now.

She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed some tissues from the box sitting there. She blew her nose, tossed the used tissue in the waste basket, and blew her nose again.

"Claire?" Leon asked once more.

She stood up, dabbing at her eyes with a clean tissue as she did so. She moved over to the door and reached for the handle, then stopped. She blew her nose one more time and trashed the tissue, then opened the door.

Claire was sure she looked like something out of a monster movie, but Leon still greeted her with a supportive smile, albeit a tentative one. Somehow, she managed to smile back at him.

"Hey there, sunshine," he joked, but she could see the concern in his eyes.

"Care to join me for a snot fest?" Claire asked. She waved her handful of tissues in front of him.

"Does that mean I can come in?" He took a small step inside the room.

Claire waved an arm at the bed. "Have a seat and tell me my problems." She closed the door behind him and muttered, "Everybody else does."

Leon tsk-ed. "You know that's not true."

Claire sat down on the bed, with one leg curled under her. She stared at the clump of tissues in her hand. "According to Chris, I don't know anything."

Leon sat next to her, close enough to touch her. He was silent for a few moments, then asked: "What happened?"

Claire threw up her hands and shrugged. "Oh, the usual." She could feel her throat tighten, and her lips quivered, making it harder to speak. "Big brother knows best, you know." Her mind repeated her conversation with Chris, like a skipping record - him telling her to stay out of things, and her yelling at him - over and over, and it made the tears come again. "He wants to send me away!" She wailed, and then she fell against Leon, her tears pouring down her face.

She felt him put his arms - strong yet gentle, like Chris' arms - around her, and, despite her tears, Claire was silently grateful. Leon let her cry, just cry, without saying anything until she was ready.

Finally, she sat up from him, wiping the snot from her nose and the tears from her cheeks. She smiled. "I'm sorry," she said, and started to reach around him for something to clean up with.

Leon put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. He gave her the box of tissues, dropping it in her lap gently. "Hey, don't be sorry. Happens to everybody, right?"

Claire shook her head and spoke around the Kleenex: "I didn't think guys like you cried at all."

Leon held up his hand and pointed a finger at her. "I'll have you know, I watched 'Pinocchio' with my nephew a few weeks back, and nothing makes me bawl like that movie. It's that one scene in the whale, where he finds Gepetto, that I just..." He covered his eyes with his hand dramatically and squeaked: "I lose it!" He fumbled his other hand toward her lap, and muttered, "Give me one of those!"

Claire hit him in the shoulder, for teasing her, but she found herself laughing, too. "Stop it," she admonished.

Leon peeked out from between his second and third fingers. He pulled his hand away from his face and grinned at her. He touched one finger to the corner of her lips. "Got you to smile," he said in a sing-song voice.

Claire sniffled and glanced down at her lap. "I guess."

"Hey," Leon murmured. He craned his neck around to look at her face. "Feel better?"

She nodded haltingly, then looked up at him. "Yeah. Thanks."

Leon yanked playfully on her ponytail, which she usually hated, because he was really the only one who ever got away with it, and he knew it. But it hearkened back to a time when it was just the two of them, and Sherry, and they were so high on having survived Raccoon that they thought nothing could touch them. She missed those times terribly - no vendettas, no heartbreak, just the comfort of each other's company.

"Ready to talk?" Leon asked.

Claire sighed, her shoulders slumped. It took a few minutes for her to compose herself enough to speak. Finally, she looked at Leon with red-rimmed eyes and said, "Chris doesn't want me with him."

"He said that?" Leon blurted before he could stop himself.

Claire shrugged. "Well, not in so many words. But that's what he meant."

Leon shook his head and patted her shoulder. "Come on, Claire. I'm sure it's not what you think." He stroked her arm, lightly. "I'm sure," he began, and paused. "I'm sure he just...wants you to be safe."

Claire stood up in a rush and began to pace in front of the bed. "He thinks I can't handle myself," she said, "but I can! He just doesn't want to admit it." She turned away from him, to stare at the far wall. "Chris thinks I'm still twelve years old, waiting for him to get home from school." She hung her head. "He doesn't understand."

Leon stood up and moved over to her. He began to reach for her again, when she muttered:

"He said I'd end up like Steve."

From behind her, Claire heard him let go a long, low breath. She could almost see him shaking his head, the same way that Chris always did whenever she brought up the subject of Steve Burnside. She couldn't help it, though; that boy with the red hair and the cocky smile had haunted her for so long. It was only in the last year that she had finally stopped having nightmares about Antarctica.

She rubbed her arms self-consciously. "I know, it's been three years. I should be over it by now."

"I didn't say that," Leon defended.

"You're thinking it, though." Claire said, and turned to look at him. Her expression wore no malice; this was an old argument, especially between the two of them - but she, for one, had grown weary of the ins and outs of it all. "Don't you think I'm tired of it, too?"

Leon cocked his head at her, looking like a lost puppy. "Claire... I never-"

She pushed onward, heedless of his coercions. "Well, I am." There were fresh tears in her eyes, but these were different. She wasn't frustrated, just exhausted. "I thought going to Raccoon would make everything better. But, instead, it just made my life hell." She turned toward the wall again, arms crossed in front of her. "All I wanted was to be with my brother. And now he won't even let me have that."

There was silence in the little room, until Leon told her:

"That's bullshit."

Claire turned toward him. "What?"

Leon stood up, defiant. "I said, that's bullshit." He approached her, and held her shoulders in his hands. "He just wants to protect you. Remember how you felt in Raccoon, looking after Sherry?"

Claire's gaze settled on his chest and the creases of his shirt, as she remembered running through Raccoon's sewers, calling Sherry's name and feeling frantic over the girl's wellbeing. That could just as easily have been her lost God knew where, with Chris out looking for her, calling her name, and fighting off Umbrella's hellions just to keep her safe.

Leon lifted her chin with his hand and met her eyes. "He doesn't want you hurt," he said in a low voice. He shook his head, slowly, and touched her cheek with his palm. "I don't, either."

Claire blinked, aware of how close he was. The last time she had been this close to Leon Kennedy, she had backed away, afraid of the consequences of her actions...

Leon leaned in to her, across the space of the sofa where Sherry had been.

Claire hesitated, then put a hand on his chest. "Don't," she whispered.

Leon sat up straight. "Why not?" He asked with a smile, as if it were a game.

"Sherry's in the other room," Claire responded, and inched away from him.

"So? I can be quiet. How about you?" He moved toward her again, more quickly.

Claire shifted further away from him. "I can't," she said.

Leon leaned back and tongued the inside of one cheek. He glanced down at his feet, then looked up at her again. "Is there...something wrong? I mean, I kind of figured, after tonight... I thought we were getting along fine." He chuckled nervously.

Claire shook her head. "It's not that." She gave him a sweet but apologetic look.

Leon squinted. "Then what?" He touched her hand. "You know how I feel about you, right?"

Claire stood up from the sofa. "I just can't. It's too soon, okay?" She said, as if trying to validate her excuse. She hugged her arms, and rubbed them self-consciously. "I still think about...him."

Leon gave her a slightly hurt and mystified expression, as if to say, Isn't two years long enough to get over him? But then he nodded, slowly. "I understand," he muttered. He took a deep breath and offered her a lopsided smile. "I guess this is good night, then."

Claire nodded back. "Yeah," she whispered. "Good night."

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Claire turned down the hall to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her gently, trying to make as little noise as possible. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and curled her arms around her.

Her stomach was doing flips inside of her, partly because of Leon's advances, but more because she hadn't felt like this since Steve. She had been so ready to fall in love with Steve Burnside, and then Umbrella and the Ashfords had taken all of that away from her in one fell swoop. On the plane back from Antarctica, with Chris, she had willed herself never to feel that way about anyone again; the pain was just too much to bear.

When she finally left the bathroom, the hall was dark, and she could make out the silhouette of Leon's feet poking over one end of the sofa. He didn't make any notice of her, so she crept into his room and closed the door.

It took her a long time to get to sleep that night.

The warmth of his breath so close to her lips brought her back to the present.

"Leon?" Claire asked softly.

He started to back away from her, as if he had been scolded. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

Claire gripped him by the shirt. "Wait." She shook her head. "I haven't been very fair. To Chris or to you."

Leon's brows went up, but he didn't push her to explain.

Claire swallowed hard. Memories of Steve and Chris and Leon all fought for her attention. She'd been fooling herself all this time to think that she could just sit back and watch the world go by. She was part of it, and all of its crazy twists and turns. She had needed Steve, because he was something that her life had lacked. She needed Chris, because he was a part of her, and he always would be. She needed Leon, because he understood what it was like to love, lose, and still survive.

She wanted to keep herself from pain as much as Chris did, maybe moreso. But she needed the pain, too. Ever since Antarctica, she'd kept herself distanced from everyone, dead to everything. She didn't care about the dangers of consequence anymore. She wanted to live again, and love.

In a sudden move, Claire kissed Leon, forcefully at first, but then with more tenderness. She held him tightly, as tightly as she could, afraid to lose him.

He felt and tasted wonderful, and her senses nearly exploded with pent-up emotion. She kissed him again, and she felt him kiss her back, and the unadulterated joy of it made her cry.

Claire dropped her head against his chest and embraced him roughly, and wept against him. "Don't let me go," she sobbed. "Please don't let me go."

Leon, dizzied by her kiss, could only stroke her hair and whisper to her. "I won't," he murmured. "I promise."

7 - Reflection And Affection (Rebecca)

Rebecca Chambers stood under the shower, letting the water cascade over her head and down her body. She had just finished rinsing off the lavendar-smelling lather that she had buried herself under only a few minutes before, but the heat and massaging patter of the shower was too enjoyable to end.

Idly, she ran her fingers through the thick mass of her short hair, much in the same way that Carlos had run his fingers through her hair earlier. Well, to be more precise, he had caught her head before she struck it against the floor, after Claire had crashed into him and he had, in turn, crashed into Rebecca herself.

Rebecca blushed as she thought of just how close she had been to Carlos Oliveira's body.

She looked up into the stream of water and grinned, giddy with excitement. She had excused herself from Carlos nearly half an hour ago, but her heart was still beating like a nervous rabbit's. She wasn't sure what it was about him that set her nerves to tingling; she only knew that it had been far too long since anyway had taken even a remote interest in her.

As a young girl, she had never had much interaction with boys; her studies took up too much of her time. She had been an accelerated student, earning the equivalent of a medical specialist degree by the time she was eighteen. Teenage boys tended not to notice her, which was just as well since she didn't know how to act around them, anyway.

When she had been approached by the infant Special Tactics And Rescue Squad division of the Raccoon City Police Department, her family had been overjoyed. They felt that the S.T.A.R.S. would be good for her, both personally and professionally. Her father had been in the service as a young man, and he often described his tour of duty as "a million dollar experience he wouldn't trade a nickle for." But he also told a young Rebecca that he had found his first real friends there; men were never more true than when they were on a battlefield. Plus, her parents had been very impressed by Enrico Marini, who had visited with her as the final step of her application.

Rebecca had immediately liked Enrico. He reminded her of her father with his wide grin and low, calm voice. Though he had been Bravo Team's leader, he never ruled over them. Rather, he had guided them, to succeed in ways that complemented their individual skills.

Rebecca had liked the other members of Bravo, too: Richard Aiken, Kenneth Sullivan, Edward Dewey, and especially Forest Speyer.

She turned off the water and stepped from the shower, shaking her wet head. As she reached for her thick blue towel, she thought about the last real time that she'd been in a man's arms.

She had only been in Raccoon for a week, and basically living out of her desk at the station while she carted her personal belongings one by one to her little studio apartment on Eighth Street, when Richard had gotten the guys together at the end of the day to help her do the bulk of her moving.

"Let us big lugs do the work," he had said with a grin.

So they had helped her finish moving in - Dewey and Forest had even set up her futon bed, and put the little stuffed raccoon that her parents had given her as a going-away present on the pillow - and she had made some friends. The pizza and beer afterward didn't hurt, either. Enrico had scolded the guys for getting beer, since Rebecca technically wasn't old enough to drink, but Richard then told him:

"If she can look at my bare ass, I think she can handle a beer."

Rebecca hadn't thought it was possible for her to feel so relaxed around anyone, let alone a bunch of guys ten years her senior. But she had found herself laughing and joking with them, and leaning a little heavily on Forest's arm, as the evening wore on.

Slowly, by ones and twos, each of them had left: Enrico had a wife and son to get home to; Richard was Kenneth's ride, and Kenneth had an early morning run to prepare for; and Dewey was getting psyched up for the RSU baseball game the next day. Finally, it was just her and Forest, sitting together on the bed that doubled as a makeshift couch.

Rebecca had been fond of Forest from the start. She supposed it had to do with his confidence and good looks. He had been well-liked by everyone in the S.T.A.R.S., and even most of the regular R.P.D. officers had only good things to say about him. She had asked a few people about him, mostly because she had been too shy to talk to him herself.

She remembered stumbling over some awkward words of thanks, and he had pointedly asked her why she seemed so nervous.

Of that entire evening, Rebecca recalled most clearly the way that his eyes met hers, and the way her heart had pattered in her chest and made it hard for her to think straight.

"I've never done anything like this before," she had said haltingly.

Forest had smiled at her, a gentle, disarming curving of his perfect lips. Then, he had made the move she was so afraid to make, and kissed her.

Rebecca curled the towel around her as she thought about Forest and that night. He had been her first lover (since then, there had been only one other indiscretion, a charming British scientist the better part of a year ago), and she supposed that he would always hold a special place in her memory for that fact, if for nothing else.

Poor, sweet Forest. He had died at the Spencer Estate, during that first viral outbreak, with the rest of Bravo Team. But even after seeing his body, Rebecca hadn't been able to reconcile the two images. That bloody, gored horror had nothing in common with the handsome man who had been so kind and loving to her in her bed.

Rebecca wiped some steam from the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and looked at herself.

What would Carlos see in her, if anything? She knew that she couldn't compare to most women, especially a knockout like Jill Valentine. Even Claire Redfield had a sensual way about her that made men stand up and take notice. But Rebecca Chambers?

She had stood in front of the mirror like that, flushed with desire, with Forest standing behind her, looking at her reflected gaze. He had stroked her cheek and told her:

"See? You're beautiful, Rebecca."

She had smiled, but she hadn't really believed him at the time. Of course he would say that; they had just had sex. But she was just a girl, with nothing impressive to speak of. Small breasts, small hips, skinny arms...She might as well have been a boy.

Rebecca sighed. Why was she bothering with Carlos Oliveira? He probably didn't have any interest in her at all, and she was just wasting her time.

She opened the bathroom door, and who should be standing there but Carlos.

"Ah!" He said, startled. "I didn't think anyone was in there." He was holding a towel of his own, and he had a roll of clothes under the other arm.

"Sorry," Rebecca muttered, holding her towel tightly closed. She moved to the bedroom that she was sharing with Claire, when Carlos cleared his throat.

"Uh, I wouldn't do that, chica."

Rebecca turned back to him. "What do you mean?"

Carlos shrugged and gave her a smile. "The baby sister and her boyfriend are in there."

Rebecca's eyes went wide. "Still? They went in there, like, half an hour ago."

After Claire had thundered up the stairs, Chris had asked Leon to talk to her, and the older Redfield had expressly forbid anyone to bother them until he knew everything was copacetic. With nothing better to do, Rebecca had opted to take a shower. She had figured that that would give Claire and Leon enough time to sort things out, but obviously she had been wrong.

Carlos shrugged again. "What can I say?"

"Great." Rebecca slumped her shoulders. "My clothes are in there. Now what am I supposed to do?"

Carlos walked back to her and opened the door to his own room. "You can wait in here, if you want."

Rebecca walked inside in a huff. She was too frustrated at the moment to consider what he was offering. "Unless you've got some size sevens in your closet, this doesn't do me much good."

Carlos snickered. "You don't have to get dressed," he said in a low tone. He eased the door closed behind him and grinned at her.

Rebecca stared at him, then looked around the room, as if they were surrounded by people. But it was just the two of them. Nevertheless, she blushed. "Uh, me?"

Carlos nodded and crooked a finger at her, beckoning her closer.

Rebecca walked toward him very slowly, entranced by that sultry look of his. She waited until she was nearly in his arms to ask, "Why me?"

Carlos cocked an eyebrow at her. "I could ask the same thing."

Rebecca chuckled. "Yeah, but..." She sized him up with her eyes and hands, admiring every subtle nuance available to her scrutiny. "I mean, look at you."

Carlos smiled, in that same tender way that Forest used to smile at her. He laid his warm hands on her shoulders. "Look at you," he murmured. His fingers went to where her towel was secured, over her breasts. Gently, he pulled it open and swept his gaze over her smooth flesh. He let go an appreciative sigh. "You're beautiful, querida."

Rebecca turned her head away from him. "No," she muttered, embarrassed more by his compliment than by her nakedness. Somehow, being naked with him didn't feel uncomfortable.

Carlos put his hand beneath her chin and made her face him again. He looked straight at her, no mirth in his smoky eyes. "Yes," he corrected her. He kissed her then, softly.

Rebecca drowned in his kiss, delighting in his warmth and passion. She sank to her knees with him, and the next she knew they were on the floor, untangling him from his clothes. Every new inch of his flesh that touched her excited her, until she was awash in ecstasy with him.

It was nearly half an hour later when she got up, giggling. "I think I need another shower," she muttered.

Carlos watched her stand up from his place on the floor. "I think I'll join you." He stood up and moved close to her, his heat giving her gooseflesh. They dressed only in their towels, for the quick run to the bathroom two doors down.

Rebecca opened the door and they stepped into the hall, still chuckling. She turned toward the bathroom and nearly screamed when she saw Leon and Claire standing in front of her with wide eyes and slack jaws.

"Um, Claire. Leon." Rebecca smiled, feeling her face go hot.

Leon shook his head. "I'm not gonna ask."

Carlos stepped forward. He nodded at Leon. "Good," he said, and pulled Rebecca to the bathroom.

The last thing Rebecca saw was Leon, who shrugged wordlessly at Claire. Then Carlos closed the bathroom door and kissed her, commanding all of her attention.

8 - Mislaid Plans (Barry)

Barry Burton blew a long, low breath, ballooning his cheeks. The spacious living room was as quiet as a morgue, and its inhabitants looked about as lively. He shook his head. "Aren't we a happy little group?"

Both Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine looked up at him from their places on the sofa. They had been huddled there together for the better part of an hour, after Chris' little altercation with Claire. Barry hadn't been aware of the specifics, but he knew that Chris had been planning for quite some time to have his little sister return to Canada, to stay with the Burtons when they finally made good on their plans to take down Umbrella.

Chris didn't like having Claire put in danger, and Barry didn't blame him, frankly. Claire was almost like a daughter to him; he had spent many years watching her grow up from a girl to a woman, on her many visits to Chris while the two of them were on the Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S. Seeing Claire in danger was much like seeing his own daughters - Margaret and Moira - in the same situation.

Chris' talk with Claire had not gone well. The younger Redfield had locked herself in her room, and Chris had parked himself on the sofa to wait for her return. Jill, another of the original Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S., had offered consolation, but that hadn't seemed to improve Chris' mood any.

As if to confirm his suspicions, Chris commented irritably: "Shut up."

Barry humphed. "Just because you're upset, don't take it out on me!" He sat down in the chair across from the sofa. When neither Chris nor Jill made any move to start talking, he glanced to the girl sitting on the floor next to the chair. "They're still not back, huh, Sherry?"

Sherry Birkin closed the clothes magazine that was spread before her and shook her head. "Nope. They've been up there for almost an hour." She looked toward the staircase. "I hope Claire's okay."

"I'm sure she's fine," Jill replied gently. She patted Chris on the arm.

Chris followed Sherry's gaze. He ran a hand through his close-cropped hair and sighed. "I hope so." He looked down at his hands, studying his knuckles. He muttered, "I don't know what I'd do without her."

"Nice to know you still care."

Chris stood up at the sound of his sister's small voice. "Claire," he said quietly. He let go of Jill's hand and went to the stairs.

All eyes turned toward Claire Redfield as she descended the stairs, slowly, tugging Leon Kennedy along by the hand. There was a profound sadness in her eyes that a woman her age shouldn't have had. But there was also a renewed confidence there, something that had been missing from her demeanor ever since the beginning of their troubles with Umbrella. Barry was reminded of the headstrong, irrepressible girl who used to visit Chris in Raccoon City, when they were still S.T.A.R.S.

Chris paused at the foot of the stairs and gazed up at Claire. "I'm sorry," Chris muttered. "Those things I said-"

Claire shook her head. "It's okay." She held his eyes for a long moment, then reached to embrace him. "I can't stay mad at you," she whispered, as she glided into his arms.

Barry smiled to himself. Now, that was how the Redfields were supposed to act: inseparable. For a very brief moment, Barry felt like a father again, something he hadn't felt since leaving his wife and two young daughters in Canada. Ordinarily, he tried not to think about them - their mission was too important to get distracted, and once he started worrying about them, he would never stop. But when he saw Chris and Claire together, he felt a pang of heartsickness for his family.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Jill murmured, "Aww, isn't that sweet?"

Claire and Chris pulled away from each other, a little embarrassed by all of the attention.

"All right, all right," Chris said, waving his hand dismissively. He went back to his place on the sofa next to Jill, and Claire followed him.

Sherry stood up and went to Claire, and touched her on the hand. "Are you okay?" The girl asked in a quiet voice.

Claire smoothed her palm over Sherry's fine blonde hair. "Yeah, I'm fine, now." She glanced backward at Leon, who was following at a respectable distance, and smiled.

Barry clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Good!" All of the seriousness of the last day or so had been getting to him. It was time to remember that the real reason of them being together was to celebrate, without worries.

Jill gave him a wary smile. "Uh-oh. Now what do you have planned?"

Barry smiled back at her. "I think that the Redfields' reconciliation, and all of us being together, is cause for celebration. So, I've decided..." He paused and looked around. "Hey, where's 'Becca?"

Claire and Leon exchanged nervous glances, and Claire blurted: "She's still getting...changed."

At that precise moment, there was a loud thump from the upstairs, and everyone clearly heard Carlos shout, "Ow!" and Rebecca's muffled laughter.

Leon dropped his head and covered his eyes with one hand. Chris snorted something between a laugh and a cough. Claire snickered, then covered Sherry's ears with her hands, to which the girl laughed and tried to pull them away.

Barry was about to start chuckling, too, until he noticed Jill's face go beet red. He hadn't quite seen that look on her face before; jealousy was something he didn't think Jill capable of. Yet there she was, practically squirming in her seat next to Chris. Barry decided to break the silence before something else happened.

"Well, we can brief Rebecca and Carlos later. As I was saying, we should celebrate. Most of us have been cooped up here for over a week. A change of scenery is in order."

Chris, still blissfully unaware of Jill's uneasiness, leaned over one knee. "And what are you suggesting?"

"I'm glad you asked," Barry grinned. "It just so happens that there's a charming little Italian restaurant not ten miles from here, right on the outskirts of the town. Carlos and I heard nothing but rave reviews for the place when we were picking up supplies."

"Great," Jill commented, her demeanor suddenly sour. "Gunshop owners who double as restaurateurs. What next?"

"Well," Claire ventured, ignoring Jill's snide remark. "I like the idea."

Chris gave her an odd look. "Yeah?"

Claire grinned at her brother. "At least I won't have to cook."

"Hey, then I'm in," Leon chimed quickly, and Chris and Sherry agreed in rapid succession.

Claire scoffed and took a wide swat at all of them.

Barry laughed, his full, rousing, disarming laugh. "Then it's settled!" He wagged a finger at Chris. "But remember: this isn't like one of your Air Force bars, partner. I expect everybody to be in full dress uniforms tonight. The reservation's at eight."

Chris cocked an eyebrow at Barry. "So you were pretty confident we'd agree to this, I guess."

Barry shrugged in response. "Either that, or I was going to have a relaxing night to myself."

Sherry hopped toward the staircase. "I don't know if I have anything to wear to a fancy dinner," she said aloud. She started up the stairs two at a time, pulling herself along by the bannister railing. She shot a backward glance at Claire, who was following her.

"Me neither," the older girl answered. She gave Sherry a little push on her back. "Why don't I help you look, and then you can help me?"

"Okay!" Sherry said, glad for some personal time with Claire.

Leon's gaze trailed after the two girls, though his eyes followed Claire more intently than they did Sherry. "They're so cute together," he snickered.

"Whatever," Jill said acidly. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and stood up. "I guess I'll tell Carlos and Rebecca."

Barry exchanged quizzical looks with Chris, who stood up to follow Jill.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Chris asked in a soft voice, although it was difficult to keep the conversation between just him and Jill with both Barry and Leon only a few feet away.

"Nothing," Jill told him. She sighed loudly. "I need to find something to wear, too. That's all."

"Need any help?" Chris asked hopefully. He reached to touch her arm.

Jill turned on her heel and headed for the staircase, leaving Chris to stare after her. "No, I can handle it," she told him brusquely. She started up the steps with the swift, determined gait that the others had seen her use only on missions.

The three men were left in rather stunned silence. Jill was not usually so cold, especially considering that, not five minutes before, she had been cuddling with Chris on the sofa.

Leon hugged his arms. "Did it get cold in here?" He asked Barry, referring to Jill's chilling attitude.

Barry gave Leon a no-nonsense look. "Don't you have something you need to do?" He jerked his head at Chris for emphasis.

Leon nodded slowly as he got the idea. "I guess I'll, uh..." He faltered, then pointed his thumb toward the outside. "Clean up the van for tonight," he finished. He started to back out of the room.

"Good idea," Barry told him, then turned back to Chris.

Chris was still staring at the empty staircase, where Jill had walked away from him only moments before. He seemed to be having a silent conversation with himself; he made little gestures and faces and muttered incoherently to himself. Finally, he threw up his arms and sat down heavily on the sofa. "Jesus!"

Barry waited to hear the front door close - that would be Leon going out to the driveway - before speaking to Chris. "So...What was that about?"

Chris smiled without humor. "You tell me." He looked away and muttered, "You think you know somebody."

Barry sat down in the arm chair across from the sofa, slowly. "Do you think she's still hot under the collar about Carlos?" He scratched his beard absently.

"I..." Chris began, then opened his arms in surrender and breathed hard through his teeth. He sat there brooding for several moments, while Barry grew increasingly more uncomfortable. After a few minutes, Chris stood up with a rush of determination.

"You know what?" Chris said, and Barry shook his head. "Fuck it. If that's the way it's gonna be, two can play that game."

Barry furrowed his brow, more than a little alarmed in this sudden change in his friend. "What do you have in mind?"

Chris half-grinned, half-snarled, and pointed a finger at him. "You'll see. Jill isn't the only one with other prospects." He jogged for the stairs, his head full with his new-laid plans.

Barry squinted, trying to figure out what Chris was spouting about. Finally, realization hit, and he warned: "Chris, I don't think that's a good idea." But the older Redfield was already up the stairs; he doubted that Chris was interested in hearing what he had to say, anyway.

Barry sat back in his seat and put his forehead on his fist. "So much for a relaxing evening," he muttered to no one.

9 - Dinner, A Date, And Disaster (Sherry)

Sherry Birkin looked down at her feet, scrutinizing how they looked in her pale blue, low-heeled pumps. She had never really worn high heels before, even though these heels were only slightly taller than those of her sneakers or school shoes. She liked the way that her feet looked in them. She thought that they made her look distinctly older, and that made her smile to herself.

She looked at herself in the glass of the front windows; it was becoming dark out already, turning the glass into a slightly muted mirror.

Sherry pulled on the half-curls that fell down in front of her ears, trying to make them look more even. Claire had given her a red ribbon to tie her blonde hair back, except for the stylish little curls. They had toyed with braids, but Sherry's hair was too thin and too uneven from front to back to collect neatly, so they had opted for a simple high ponytail, with the ribbon wrapped around it. She primped for a moment, then looked down at herself.

She brushed at the skirt of her dress, straightening it. Claire had picked out the long sleeve, blue sailor outfit dress, rather than her white sun dress, which, Sherry had been told, would be too dressy. They were just going to dinner, after all. Now, with the coming evening chill, Sherry was glad for her choice even more. She briefly considered going to get her jacket before they left for the restaurant.

Behind her, the stairs creaked as someone came down them.

Sherry turned around and smiled.

Claire came padding down the steps, in her stockinged feet and holding a pair of dark-colored shoes. She was done up in a simple, deep red, almost purple, thigh-length dress that complemented her figure without being too showy. Seeing Claire in her outfit reminded Sherry of the way she looked in Raccoon - the cut of the dress looked a lot like her shorts and vest, but it was infinitely more feminine.

Sherry didn't usually think of Claire being very womanly; she was tough and self-assured, and she could go head-to-head with guys her age, without any problem at all. But, tonight, Claire was like a completely different person. It was like there was an aura about her that made her look softer, more genteel, almost like a starlet.

"Hey!" Sherry said with a smile. "You look great, Claire."

Claire returned the smile. "Well, thank you, miss. So do you, if I may say." She sat down on the sofa and dropped her shoes on the floor.

"What's with the shoes?" Sherry asked as she took a seat next to Claire.

Claire made a face. "They hurt my feet. But Chris said if I wear my boots, he'll disown me." She leaned back into the sofa and brought her legs up and to the side, the only way she could sit properly in such a short dress. "I'm going to wear them to and from the car, and to and from the restaurant, and that's it."

Sherry giggled. "I'd offer mine, but I don't think they'd fit."

Claire looked down at Sherry's smaller feet. "Yeah, I don't think so, either."

The two of them laughed for a minute, until another person came down the steps and called to them.

"Evening, ladies!" Leon Kennedy said jovially, as he rounded the bottom of the stairs. He stopped in his tracks as he focused on them, and his mouth fell open a little. "Wow," he muttered, his blue eyes intent on Claire.

Sherry looked back at Claire, to see how the older girl would react. There was a split second where Claire started to blush, but then her confident, jaunty manner was back. She propped her chin on her hand and said with a grin, "Lose your voice, Big Red?"

Leon forced a smile. "You look...different," he said to Claire.

Claire piqued one thin eyebrow at him. "Is that good?"

Leon shook his head dismissively, his cheeks going a deeper shade of pink than normal. "It's your hair," he offered. "I don't think I've ever seen it down before." He paused, seeming to gather both strength and spit for his dry tongue. "You look very nice." He made sure to look at Sherry, too. "Both of you."

Sherry grinned at him. "Thanks!" She got up on her knees and leaned over the back of the sofa, to size him up. "Nice suit."

Leon glanced down at himself. His look had government written all over it: a black, single-breasted suit over a Corean collar white shirt, and black leather shoes. The only thing of color he wore was a red cloisonne pin shaped like a shield on his left lapel. He didn't seem to think too much of his attire, but both young women admired his appearance.

"This is my work suit," Leon griped. "I don't have any other dress clothes with me."

Claire appraised him thoughtfully, then told him: "Well, I think you look great."

Leon let a smile slip to his lips. "Really?"

Claire wrinkled her nose. "Well, maybe a little too 'Men in Black,'" she said, then added, "but I like it."

Leon rolled his eyes and slid into the chair across from them. "I am a man in black - what do you expect?"

Sherry righted herself on the sofa once more, to face him. "I think it's cool. So is that what you do at work? Bust up monsters and stuff?"

Leon chuckled, humoring her. "Something like that." He took a glance at his watch. "Where is everybody? It's getting late."

Sherry shrugged and tucked her legs beneath her. "Beats me. I've been down here for almost twenty minutes, and you're the only two who showed up."

Claire grinned meaningfully. "We could always go, just the three of us."

Sherry clapped her hands against her thighs. "Yeah, that'd be fun!" She waited for one of them to comment, paying careful attention to the way Claire and Leon looked at each other, in an effort to unravel their enigmatic relationship.

Ever since last year, Sherry had wanted to see them together. If Leon wouldn't find her interesting, the least he could do was fall in love with Claire and give her a happy ending to watch. But so far on this trip, neither one had let anything slip about just how close they were, though Sherry thought she recognized plenty of signs. However, she was getting impatient with them; instead of dancing around the subject all the time, why didn't they just admit that they liked each other?

"Well?" Sherry prompted.

Leon shook his head. "Let's give them at least a few more minutes."

Sherry blew her bangs out of her eyes and sat back, arms akimbo. "Okay."

The three of them sat in silence for a long moment, until a beaming Rebecca Chambers came trotting down the steps in her heels, with Carlos Oliveira not far behind.

Leon pointed to the newcomers, as if to say, See?

Sherry sat up straight and let her legs dangle over the edge of the sofa, and she grinned at the new pair.

"Hola, señoritas," Carlos said with a flair. He poked Leon in the shoulder. "Muchacho."

Rebecca finished her giggling as she sat down on the arm of the sofa. "You guys look pretty spectacular."

"Thanks," Sherry said. "So do you two."

Rebecca thanked the girl and Carlos grinned. They matched almost perfectly: Carlos in dark slacks and a viridescent silk shirt, and Rebecca in an emerald blouse, black skirt, and dark, opaque stockings.

"You look like you compared notes," Claire said with a slight sarcastic edge.

Rebecca could only shrug and giggle softly again.

Carlos glanced around the living room. "We're still missing a few guests, eh?"

"Just the old guard," Claire responded.

Carlos leaned in to Leon. "So, what do you say, after dinner, we go out on the town?"

Leon backed away from him and squinted. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"No, stupid," Carlos retorted. "You and-" He cut himself off and sat up suddenly. The last three of their group were coming down the stairs.

Sherry looked toward the stairs again and found herself staring. Leon and Claire looked great, and even Rebecca and Carlos were dressed nicely, but Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, and Barry Burton were downright classy.

The two men were dressed in suits similar to Leon's, though the cut was double-breasted and more formal. And Jill was in a simple, slender, black dress that accentuated her figure nicely.

"What's everybody staring at?" Chris asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Very nice, big brother," Claire commented.

"Thanks," Chris said sardonically. "I dressed myself."

Sherry laughed spiritedly at the Redfields' banter. She stopped when she noticed Carlos eyeing Jill.

"You look beautiful, Jill," Carlos murmured, though in the silence of the room he needn't have whispered. Everyone was paying attention to them.

Jill smiled and looked down at her feet, playing bashful. "Why, thank you, Carlos, I-"

Carlos stepped back toward Rebecca and extended his arm. "Shall we go?"

Sherry had to stifle the urge to start crowing as Jill's face fell and Carlos started walking toward the door with Rebecca on his arm. She didn't wish Jill any ill will, but the look on her face was just so funny. She didn't think that anything could top it.

She was wrong.

Chris somehow angled his way between the small crowd of people and took Rebecca's hand from Carlos' arm. "Allow me," he said with a wide grin. He led Rebecca out the door toward the driveway, leaving both Carlos and Jill to stare after him in his wake.

"What...?" Carlos muttered. He glanced over at Jill, who was equally as dumbstruck.

Jill looked back at Carlos, almost in an effort to find solace. But then her expression hardened, and she turned up her nose and walked out the door.

Carlos looked around the rest of the room, then stormed out the door himself.

Sherry turned to Claire. "Were we supposed to understand any of that?"

Claire shook her head. "I don't know." She grabbed Sherry by the hand and dragged her toward the door, even while she was putting on her shoes with her other hand. "But we'd better separate them before something else happens."

Sherry glanced back at Leon, who gave her a pained look. She heard him mutter: "Why can't things ever be easy?" And though one part of her agreed with Leon and wanted everything to go smoothly tonight, another part of her couldn't wait to see what Chris had cooked up for the evening.

10 - Let Him Go (Jill and Leon)

"Would you care for any dessert?"

Jill Valentine had to keep herself from scowling at the too-happy waitress. After sitting at the table, watching Carlos and Chris compete shamelessly for young Rebecca Chambers' attention throughout the entire dinner, Jill was ready to throw up.

Across from her, Leon Kennedy piped up: "I wouldn't mind seeing a dessert menu. Ow!" He turned quickly to Claire Redfield, sitting beside him, who gave him a stern glare. "Or maybe not," Leon muttered, and reached under the table to rub his leg.

Jill spared Claire a grateful smile, but the younger girl didn't return it. After alternating between pouting and making sarcastic comments toward Chris all evening, Jill supposed that she wasn't high on Claire's friend list at the moment. Oh, well.

"Just the check, please," Jill told the waitress, who nodded and walked away. When she turned back to the table, Chris was nearly leaning over Rebecca, muttering something about a moonlight walk. Of course, he didn't mutter it too softly that everyone at the table didn't overhear.

Rebecca gave Chris a blank look, then turned to Carlos, as if asking for permission. For his part, Carlos faltered ever-so-slightly, and Jill saw her opportunity.

Grabbing onto Carlos' arm, Jill yanked him toward her end of the table. "Why don't you and Chris go ahead, Rebecca? I think Carlos is going to have his hands full tonight."

"I am?" Carlos echoed, at a loss.

"Yes," Jill informed him. She leaned over and brushed her lips against his cheek.

"Now just wait a second!" Rebecca stood up from the table in one swift motion. All of the men at the table - except for Carlos, who was still struggling with Jill - bolted up after her in an attempt to quiet her. Barry finally got a hand on her arm, but she ignored him.

"You always do this!" Rebecca cried suddenly. "I can't ever be happy!" She was near tears, and the hitching in her throat made Jill sit back in her seat.

Chris put a hand on her shoulder and tried to make her sit down. "Rebecca, please," he murmured, glancing around at the other guests, who were starting to stare.

"Shut up!" She shouted, turning on him fully. "You're part of this, too! It's always about you - you and Jill! You treat everybody like things, and I'm sick of it." She wrestled free of both Chris' and Barry's grips, grabbed her purse, and ran from the table.

Jill watched her go, running awkwardly in her high heels, and felt a pang of guilt for the girl. She had since let go of Carlos' arm, and when he got up from the table to follow Rebecca, she didn't make a move to stop him.

Chris backed away from the table, but Claire admonished him with a low, "Chris...."

Jill stared down at her plate and muttered, "Let him go, Chris." She could feel him glaring at her, but she didn't care. She fiddled absently with the napkin in her lap.

Chris threw something down on the table - just some money, Jill realized after a moment - and snorted. "What a great evening this turned out to be."

Claire made a little noise as she stood up from the table, too. "Chris, can I talk to you for a moment, please?" She asked icily.

Jill was vaguely aware of the Redfields' departure; she was more preoccupied with Rebecca's accusations. The girl's words stung, deeper than she wanted to admit. She had only wanted to teach Chris a lesson. It hadn't even occurred to her that she would be hurting someone else's feelings in the process. This was supposed to have been a time for her and Chris to get closer, and yet, instead, they seemed to be at each other's throats lately.

Where did it go wrong? She couldn't remember the exact moment, or whose fault it had been. When Chris had come on so forcefully to Rebecca, Jill had wanted to turn the tables on him. She realized that his efforts were just to make her jealous, to make her notice him, but it still made her angry. She had turned to Carlos because he was convenient, nothing more. She knew that Carlos would probably be nonplussed by her own come-on, but he had a thick hide. Rebecca, though....

Jill felt a tide of shame rise inside of her.

"Jill? Hey, Jill, you in there?"

She looked up to find that Leon was speaking to her from across the table. She was also a little surprised to realize that they were alone. She looked around the restaurant. "Where did Barry go?"

Leon jerked his head toward the door. "He took Sherry for some ice cream." He squinted at her. "You okay? You looked like you were a million miles away."

"I feel a million miles away," she murmured, looking down into her lap again.

"What do you mean?" Leon asked.

Jill dropped her hands into her lap and sighed. "I don't get my kicks by being a bitch."

He snickered, then hid it behind his fist. It happened that the waitress returned at that moment, with the tiny check valise. Leon snuck a glance at the check and handed her a wad of somewhat mismatched bills, then smiled. "Thanks, I don't need any change."

The waitress returned his smile. "Thank you." She glanced at Jill. "Have a good night."

"Yeah," Jill said somberly. "Right."

Leon stood up and shrugged his suit jacket straight. "Come on," he coaxed. "Let's get some air."

Jill gave him a weary smile and got up from the table, swinging her small black purse over her shoulder. She followed Leon out the door and around the corner, where he invited her to sit down on one of the quaint street benches, presumably to wait for the others. She figured they could be a while; Chris wasn't known for having a particularly level head.

Leon leaned over his legs, with his elbows propped on his knees. After a long moment, he turned his head to her and asked, "Can I give you a piece of advice? From one non-Redfield to another."

She sat back against the bench and smirked. "Be my guest."

He took a deep breath, and then told her: "If you really like Carlos, then be with Carlos. But don't do it just to get back at Chris." He shook his head. "It isn't right. And it won't make you feel any better in the morning, trust me."

Jill knew that a scolding was coming, but she wasn't expecting that last part. She preferred not to dwell on her own shortcomings, so she turned the tables on him. "You speak from experience?"

Leon gave her a wry smile. "Let's just say you're not the only one who doesn't take rejection well."

Jill piqued an eyebrow at him. She remembered something Claire had once said about a woman, in Raccoon, whom Leon had apparently cared for. Her name had been Anna or Eva or something like that; she had died in Raccoon, leaving a young Leon Kennedy with one more battle scar.

"When was this?" Jill asked quietly, her general curiosity getting the better of her.

He shrugged as he looked at his clasped hands. "About a year ago."

Not the Raccoon woman, then. She waited for him to continue, to fill in the details on his own. She had been in Europe at that time, still running from both Carlos and Chris.

He shook his head. "I was angry, and frustrated. I just wanted her to hurt as much as I did."

Jill thought carefully about his words. What Leon had said was mostly true - she had wanted to get revenge on Chris, for paying so much attention to Rebecca, in her own petty way. She had always assumed, though, that he would never take it further than she would. But Leon's words rang with a haunting truth; sometimes, people didn't know when to stop playing games. She could end up hurting herself as much as anyone else.

Leon was still staring off into space, his normally boyish features faulted by his shame.

"Claire?" Jill guessed. He didn't tell her so, but she was pretty sure of the truth.

"I was so stupid," Leon continued. "It didn't make me feel any better. Just worse."

She looked him up and down, and she was struck by how much he reminded her of Chris when he was younger, when they had first been in the S.T.A.R.S. together. She would have done anything back then to be close to Chris Redfield, even made a potential fool of herself by telling him her feelings. What was the difference now?

She touched Leon's shoulder. "Maybe you should have tried working things out with her, instead of trying to get back at her."

Leon nodded. "Yeah, maybe." He craned his head to look at her and asked: "When did this get to be about me, anyway?"

Jill smiled. "Think of it as catharsis."

He managed a chuckle. "Well, as long as hearing about my problems makes you feel better...."

She leaned forward and perched her chin on her hand. "We're more alike than you might think."

Leon gave her a sad smile. "Probably more than you know," he muttered.

She was about to ask him what that was supposed to mean, when she felt someone at her side. She turned to see Rebecca standing there, with Carlos behind her.

"Jill?" Rebecca murmured. She looked anxious as she stood there wringing her hands, and with one leg cocked off to the side. "Um. I'm sorry."

Jill stood up and angled herself toward the girl. "I'm sorry, too, Rebecca." She didn't know what else to say, without sounding corny, so she left it at that.

Rebecca extended her hand tentatively. "Can we be...friends again?"

Jill cocked her head. She sent a glance to Carlos, but all of his attention was directed to Rebecca, for which Jill was actually glad. She laid a hand on Rebecca's arm. "As long as you promise to take care of Romeo over there."

Rebecca smiled up at her, then crushed Jill in a swift, short hug. She laughed as she pushed away and took Carlos' hand.

Carlos smiled at Jill, that smile that used to make her melt, and then he pulled Rebecca a little closer. There was something in his eyes that touched her again, but it was much more mellow than what she'd previously known, almost like a farewell.

Jill nodded to him. She turned to Leon, who was still sitting on the bench and watching the three of them. "Let's get everybody together again."

Leon stood and grinned at her. "Maybe Barry'll buy us some ice cream, too."

Jill laughed, from her belly, the first time she'd done so in too long. She hooked her arms through both Leon's and Rebecca's and led the way.

11 - Glass Slippers (Rebecca and Carlos)

Rebecca stumbled out of the restaurant, pushing aside the maitre'd, without even knowing where she was going. She ran from the building, tripping over her heels once or twice.

She hadn't meant to make such a scene, but everything had just bubbled up inside of her. Why was Jill so angry at her, anyway? What had she done to incur that Valentine wrath?

The evening had started out so nicely. They were all going out to dinner, and then she and Carlos had plans to go for a nighttime walk around town, without the scrutiny of the others. She hadn't expected Chris to glom onto her the way that he had, but that had been nice, too. She had almost forgotten how much she liked and admired Chris; he always seemed to have eyes only for Jill.

Now that she thought about it, any man's attention was refreshing to her. How many times had she thought about how wonderful it would be to have Chris like her, even if it was just a girlish fantasy? She hadn't known, then, how sweet and sexy and charming Carlos was, of course, which made everything all the more confusing.

She came to a halt by the curb and looked around, and she realized that she was lost. That had been a stupid move - storm out of a strange building into a strange town, in her high heels, no less, which were making her feet hurt.

"Stupid," Rebecca cursed herself. She leaned against one of the large elm trees by the curb and slipped off her shoes. She looked down at herself, then made a face as she realized that she had torn a line up the side of her stockings. "Great. Just what I need." She fiddled with the stocking, during which time she simmered down a little.

She gave up after a minute, resigned to looking like a cheap, dateless tart, and looked around again. With a clearer head, she figured she should be able to figure out where the cars were parked. The town wasn't that big, after all. At least they wouldn't have to come looking for her.

She heard footsteps behind her, the quick pet-pet sound of leather on concrete. So much for them leaving her alone. Suddenly there was someone calling her name, too. She could tell Carlos from the smooth silk of his voice. She turned away from his approach and leaned against the tree again.

"There you are," Carlos said, as he ambled over, all charm and suavity. He stopped in front of her and put one hand on his hip. The other reached out to touch her cheek. "What's wrong?"

Rebecca thought briefly about acting cool, but her emotions were running pretty high. She slapped his hand away. "Stop it!"

He backed away suddenly with a look of unadulterated shock, as if she'd struck his face and not just his hand.

She felt tears welling up inside of her, when she thought about how everyone was probably laughing at her for being such a fool. So she wasn't the most experienced when it came to men.... Was that any reason for Jill and Chris and Carlos to single her out for their stupid little games?

"Stop making fun of me," she muttered through clenched teeth.

One of Carlos' dark brows piqued quizzically. He smiled softly, as if to comfort her. "I'm not." He opened his arms to her, but she noticed that he was careful not to touch her again. He squinted at her, showing only slits of his beautiful dark eyes. "What would make you think that?"

Rebecca turned her head and looked down at the street again. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, as if to control herself. "Just go back to Jill," she murmured with no little spite. "That's what you want, anyway."

He paused, then patted his chest with his fist. "Oh, that hurts, chica." He bent close to her, and asked, quieter this time: "Is that what you think? That all of this was just to make Jill come after me?"

She hazarded a half-glance at him. He really did look wounded by her accusation, and for a moment, Rebecca's anger faltered. "No," she mumbled.

Carlos leaned in even closer to her, so that their faces were nearly touching. "What was that?" He put a finger by his ear, making a show of not being able to hear her.

Rebecca sighed. "I don't know," she told him.

He stood up straight and clucked at her. He crossed his arms the same way that her first grade teacher used to do when she got a question wrong. "I thought you knew me better than that."

Rebecca felt her face flush with a deep but childlike shame. She pouted her lips. "You didn't seem to mind Jill hanging all over you at dinner."

Carlos laughed with his usual happy-go-lucky nature. "Hey, it's hard to get away from her. She's pretty strong, you know." He gave her arm a little shake to go with his joke. He sobered then, and his hand went to her hair, smoothing it behind her ear. "You didn't seem to mind Chris' attention, either. How do you think that felt?"

She got up from the tree and began to walk, aimlessly, down the street. She held her shoes in her hands, swinging them against her legs as a nervous distraction. She shrugged and watched her stockinged feet move one in front of the other.

"It's nice to be the center of attention, for once," she offered as an excuse. And it was true, for the most part; she didn't get many opportunities to be the star of the evening. She never got to be Cinderella at the ball. The most she could usually hope for was to be the pumpkin carriage driver. "It didn't mean anything," she added softly.

He followed her along the street. "Well, same thing with me and Jill." He put his hands in his pockets and cocked his head at her. "You can't take everything so seriously, muchacha. It's not healthy."

"That's easy for you to say."

He shrugged. "Hey, so I've got a thick skin." He paused, then added with a leering grin: "And if you want to see thick-"

"Oh, stop," Rebecca interrupted before he could go on. She was trying hard not to laugh at him, despite herself; he just oozed charm.

They stopped beneath another tree, this one in a patch of darkness between two pools of streetlamp-light. She looked up at him, into his earnest eyes, and couldn't help smiling. She really did care for him. Carlos was wonderful, like a handsome - if roguish - prince, and he could make her feel so special, like she was the only woman in the world. Deep down, she doubted that they would stay that way forever, but wasn't it better to enjoy it while it lasted, instead of wasting time on jealousy or regret?

Carlos gave her a wary smile. "Ready to go back and face the crowd?"

Rebecca cocked her head to the side. "I guess so."

He glanced down at her hands and made a face. "Ah, give me those." He took her shoes from her hands and knelt down in front of her. He set one shoe on the sidewalk and palmed the other.

He looked up at her from the ground and touched the back of her right knee, then trailed his deft fingers down her calf. He lifted her foot and cupped her arch in his warm palm. He guided her foot into the shoe and set it down, then repeated the little ritual with her other leg.

Across the street, a young couple watched them for a minute, then turned away, chuckling. Rebecca was unfazed, though; she shuddered a little, amazed at how sensual he made even this simple thing. Looking down at him, she was tempted to run her fingers through his hair, kiss and caress him, heedless of their location or whomever might see.

Carlos stood up in one fluid motion and placed both his hands on her thin waist. "Better now?"

She laid her hands down on his biceps and fingered the smooth material of his shirt, tracing the dips and rises of the muscles beneath. "Thanks." She lifted her eyes to him and returned his smile. "I guess I should go apologize to Jill."

Carlos shook his head. He placed a finger against her lips and shushed her. "Not just yet."

As if he could sense the rightness of where and when they were, he pulled her into a loose embrace and kissed her, at first gently but then with more of the passion for which he was known. And Rebecca surrendered to him for the second time in almost as many hours.

12 - I Want For You (Chris and Claire)

To any passersby, the Redfields' conversation probably seemed like a lovers' spat:

"Just what the hell was that all about?" The young woman asked with icy irritation. Even though she was a good head shorter than her companion, she had still managed to drag him out into the street as if he were a petulant child.

The dark-haired man crossed his arms and looked down at his hundred-dollar shoes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he responded with feigned indifference.

"I think you know damn well what I'm talking about," she bristled. She tucked a lock of red-brown hair behind her ear, then glared around her. Anyone on the street would have gotten out of the way of that look.

One young couple hurried away from them, and Chris made a shushing gesture with one hand. "Will you lower your voice?"

Claire shook her head. "No, I will not lower my voice," she told him indignantly. "You're acting like a jerk." She huffed, pouting her lips in a way that befit a little girl, not a young woman.

"Jesus, Claire! Give me a break, huh? I've got a lot to deal with right now."

She put her hands on her hips and leaned in to him. "What makes you different from anyone else? You're not the only one with problems, you know."

Chris threw up his hands in surrender. "Terrific. Now I'm getting lectured by my baby sister."

She humph-ed and turned away from him again. And he accused her of being unreasonable! After a long moment, she hazarded a sideways glance in his direction. He was staring at the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets. He looked so tired.... Claire's heart immediately went out to him.

She relaxed a little and touched his shoulder. "What's gotten into you, big brother?" Usually, she just called him Chris...but when she pulled out the big brother card, it was like they were kids again. They both knew that he wouldn't be able to refuse her appeal if she put it that way.

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I'm starting to think this whole trip was a bad idea."

"Chris," she whispered. "You can talk to me." She reached for his hand and took it in both of hers. "Please, talk to me."

His dark eyes met her lighter ones, and he smiled gently. He cupped her cheek with his free hand, giving her a solemn look that she knew all too well. He had been favoring her with those looks ever since they had been reunited during the Ashford debacle, and even moreso over the last few days. "I keep forgetting you're not a kid anymore."

His melancholy was almost startling; Claire wanted with all her heart to run away from it. But he was her brother, so she held fast, asking again, "What's wrong?" She pressed her cheek against his palm, the way she always did when she wanted comfort from him.

Chris sighed and shook his head. "Oh, it's Jill. And Carlos. And me." He added that last after a breath, as if coming clean to some unspoken crime.

Her thin eyebrows went up. "I thought you and Jill were..." She paused, unsure of how to put the delicacies of her brother's relationship with the woman. "...doing all right."

"Yeah," he muttered sourly. "That's what I thought, too. I wish she'd just make up her mind."

Claire's lips pursed. "I think you should worry more about Rebecca than about Jill."

"Oh, man," Chris groaned. He turned from her and put a hand to his head. "Rebecca. What am I gonna do?"

"You could start with an apology."

"To which one?"

"Both," Claire offered. "All of them." She smiled and poked him in the shoulder. "All you have to do is pour on the Redfield charm."

Chris snarled sardonically. "Right. Because it's gotten me this far." He kicked at a loose stone on the sidewalk. "Damn it."

She shrugged. "I'm sure they'll get over it. We all act without thinking sometimes."

He glanced at her and smiled. "When did you get to be so wise?"

Claire looked down at her hands, clasped in front of her. She swayed back and forth on her feet, like a nervous student at the front of the class. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said before." She went to the curb and sat down, waiting for him to follow her.

He sat next to her, leaning his elbows on his knees. For a moment, she thought about when they were kids, sitting on the curb in front of their parents' house during a break from street hockey. Chris in his makeshift goalie pads would sit next to her and let her try on his oversized gloves, and he would pat her helmet like a proud coach. Somehow, thinking about those early days made it easier for her to talk to him.

"You're all I have left, you know," she said softly, and she gave him a wan smile.

Chris took her hand. "Hey, same here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you ever again."

Claire took a deep breath. "I know you're just looking out for me." She paused and took another deep breath. "But I think it's time I got out from under your shadow."

He shook his head and made a face like he didn't quite understand.

She forged ahead, feeling her confidence rise the more that she spoke. "I need to get away from all of this S.T.A.R.S. intrigue stuff. But I want to do it myself." She looked in his deep eyes and shook her head. "I'm not going to Canada with the Burtons," she told him, her words stilted.

Chris patted her hand. "That doesn't surprise me."

"I thought, maybe, I could go back to school. I'm sure I could get some credits transferred and start over again someplace new." She glanced down at her shoes, and at her stockinged toes poking out of the point of them. "Someplace away from Umbrella and all the bad memories," she finished.

"Claire," he began quietly, and he reached to touch her face again. She turned at his touch, and brother looked at sister like lost twins found again. "All I've ever wanted is for you to be safe." He paused and smiled. "And happy. If there's anything I can do-"

She returned his smile, and this time a light blush rose into her cheeks. "Actually, I was thinking about going to DC." She swallowed hard. "Leon said I could stay with him for a while."

Chris' smile fell a bit, and Claire could tell that his brotherly instincts were starting to blare like klaxons in his brain. But she must have misjudged his temper, because the smile was back again soon enough, and he told her: "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me, either."

She opened her eyes wide, innocent and daring at the same time. "Then it's okay?"

He inhaled deeply through his nose and blinked at her. "You're a grown woman, Claire. I trust you to make the right decision."

In one sudden move, she grinned and hugged him, fiercely. "Oh, Chris, thank you!" She spoke into the side of his neck, with his short hair prickling her cheek.

He patted her back with ginger tenderness. "I can't say no to you, baby bear, " he whispered.

She pulled away from him, and her face was practically beaming. She stood up and reached for his hand. "Come on. Let's get you and Jill back together."

He hoisted himself up and dusted off the seat of his pants. "I don't think it'll be that easy."

Claire cocked her head at him. "You love her, don't you?" She said it almost as a challenge.

Chris locked gazes with her. Without even thinking about it, he said, "Yes." Now it was his turn to turn red, as his cheeks flamed under her unwavering scrutiny. "I love her." He smiled to himself, as if pleased with the admission. "I love Jill," he repeated softly, the words coming to him like memories of a forgotten dream.

She put her hands on his shoulders and smiled sweetly. "Then I think it'll be easy," she told him, and she turned him around.

He didn't know what she was doing, until he turned, looked up, and saw Jill Valentine standing before him. "Uh," was all he could get out. He glanced to either side of her, Leon on the left and Rebecca and Carlos on the right. "Um," he muttered.

Before her brother could make an even bigger idiot out of himself, Claire gave him a little push in the small of his back. "Well?" She murmured. "What are you waiting for?"

"Stop it," Chris hissed at her, finally able to find his voice again. He walked up to Jill with measured steps, as if she was the only one he could see. His arms fell at his sides, and he dipped his head to look at her. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused. "Um," he said again.

Jill smiled at him. "Hi," she said simply. She looked rather calm, but Claire could see that her hands, holding her purse in front of her, had white knuckles.

"How long...?" Chris whispered.

"Enough," Jill answered.

Chris spared a glance at Claire, who grinned at him from her place at Leon's side; she nodded at him expectantly. He bowed his head. "I don't know what to say."

Jill stepped forward and took his hand in hers. She gave him a tentative but meaningful smile. "How about you buy me an ice cream and think about it?"

Chris squeezed her hand. "Is strawberry okay?"

Jill wrapped her arm through his and moved up closer to him. "My favorite," she chuckled.

As Jill walked away with her brother, Claire let go a long breath, blowing strands of her bangs away from her face. "Thank goodness that's taken care of."

Rebecca leaned over and asked, "Do you think they'll be okay?"

Carlos shrugged and put his arm around Rebecca's shoulders. "I've got my own girl to worry about."

Rebecca giggled and rested her head against him. She and Carlos followed Jill and Chris at a respectable distance, leaving Claire and Leon alone.

Claire shook her head after the pair of couples, when she felt Leon nudge her. She turned to him and saw that he had extended his arm like an old-time suitor.

"Shall we?" Leon asked with a smile.

Claire snickered. "We shall," she told him in an affected nasal voice. They both laughed, and she took his arm and walked into the night with him.

13 - Happy Almost-Endings (Barry)

Sherry bounced into the semi-circular booth and started to dig in to her hot fudge sundae. "I really appreciate this, Mr. Burton." When things at the restaurant had turned sour, Barry had offered to to get Sherry some dessert, away from all of the anxieties of the lovestruck set. She had agreed wholeheartedly: Not only was she still hungry, but there was something about Barry that made Sherry think that he could use some company.

Barry chuckled at her as he settled into the place across from her. "The ice cream?" He asked quizzically.

Sherry shook her head and laughed. "No. Just, you know, talking with you. You kind of remind me of my dad." She looked away from him, preferring instead to poke at the mound of whipped cream on her sundae. "But easier to talk to," she added in a low voice. She and her father had never been very close; even as a girl, she had realized that his work had been William Birkin's true love.

The older man took a deep breath. "Well, to be honest, you remind me of my daughters."

Sherry sat up and gave him a proud grin. "Yeah?" No one had ever said anything like that to her before. It made her feel good.

Barry nodded. "Yeah."

"What are they like?" She asked, eager to pursue this line of conversation. She scooped a spoonful of ice cream, fudge, and whipped cream into her mouth and waited for him to respond.

Barry leaned back into the vinyl cushion of the booth. "Oh. Well, they're younger than you - Moira's only ten, and Polly's eight - so it's not quite the same. But they're smart, and pretty feisty.... They get that from their mother." He grinned to himself, and Sherry figured he was probably thinking of them, of their cherubic faces and their perfect little smiles.

He continued, softly: "They've got their mother's light hair, too...kind of like yours." He paused and stared at the table.

Sherry squinted at him. "They must miss you a lot."

Barry sighed. "I hope not. It's been almost a year since I've seen them."

"If you were my dad," she ventured, "I'd miss you." In a lot of ways, he was what she considered a real father to be like, not the pseudo-patriarch that she remembered from her childhood.

Barry's eyes softened. "Thanks, Sherry." He shook his head. "Ah, don't let me get weepy, or I'll never stop."

Sherry giggled. She proferred a heaping scoop of sundae toward him. "Want some?"

He patted his stomach with a grin. "No, thanks, kid. I've got to keep an eye on this."

She giggled again. "Okay." She glanced up and out the window. "I hope everybody else is okay. Claire looked pretty upset."

Barry looked at her wide, bright eyes. "You and Claire are pretty close, huh?"

Sherry seemed to think for a moment. A tiny smile touched her lips. "Yeah. She was the one person who looked out for me when my parents died." She wanted the silence to fill in the gaps, but the question came anyway:

"Do you miss your parents?"

Sherry cocked her head to one side. "I miss my mom." She pushed her spoon through her dessert and then shrugged. "I didn't really know my dad all that well. He worked a lot. My mom did, too, but...she was still there. You know?"

Barry nodded slowly. "Yeah." He raised his eyebrows. "Claire said that you live with your aunt now."

"Yeah, my Aunt Kate. She's pretty cool. Tough, though." Sherry chuckled to herself. "Not as tough as Claire, of course, but she does make me work hard."

"School?" Barry guessed.

Sherry smiled. "Yeah, school, and violin, and ballet. She says that if I don't experience life, I'm not really living it." She rolled her eyes and gave a little laugh.

"You don't believe her?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I like all that stuff. But sometimes it's just too much." She paused, her eyes wandering around the room. She caught her reflection in the mirror on the wall and came to a sudden conclusion: "I think she just doesn't want me to be like my mom."

Barry leaned forward and dropped his voice to a gentle whisper. "How so?"

"Well, my mom was a really good scientist, but she was always really intense. It was like she never smiled. She wasn't like a normal mom, that's for sure." She paused, remembering the smell of soap on her mother's hands whenever she would tuck her in for the night. Whenever she smelled that antiseptic, Sherry still thought of her mother. Usually fleetingly, but always there.

Barry was about to say something, when she added: "I still miss her, though." She poked at her sundae again, now mostly a melted mound.

Barry reached over and patted her hand gently. "I'm sure she's watching out for you. You're a special young lady, Sherry."

She looked up at him and smiled, the kind of smile that she could feel in her eyes as well as her lips. "Thanks."

Barry's gaze drifted past her suddenly. "Don't look now," he said with a snicker. "But the little rascals just showed up."

Sherry turned in her seat and saw Chris and Jill walking arm-in-arm into the shop. Rebecca and Carlos followed close behind, but she didn't see Leon and Claire anywhere.

"Ooh, fudge!" Leon crowed, behind her in her blind spot. He arched over Sherry's shoulder and stuck his index finger into the soupy mess of her bowl. The young man pulled his finger back and sucked on it happily, then ambled around to Sherry's seat. "Scoot over," he told her.

"Where's Claire?"

"Bathroom. Are you going to finish that?" He reached for what was left of her dessert.

Sherry pushed it toward him with a congenial smile, all maudlin thoughts forgotten. "Go ahead."

Barry made a face. "Good grief, man. How much can you eat?" He asked, and Sherry laughed.

"Chocolate is my singular vice," Leon informed him. He started counting on his fingers: "I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't do drugs. What else is there?"

"Sex." Carlos suddenly announced. He stood over their table, with his mint cone in hand, and grinned. He poked the girl beside him with his free hand. "Isn't that right, chica?"

Rebecca glanced up from her little parfait, looking a trifle shocked. "Carlos...!" She growled, but with a smile.

Leon paused thoughtfully. Then he shook his head and dipped it back toward the bowl. "I don't get nearly enough of that for it to count as a vice."

"Enough of what?" Claire asked, sliding into the booth beside him with a playful bounce.

"Nothing," Leon said dismissively.

"Sex," Sherry said with a huge grin. "Leon says he doesn't get enough of it."

Leon half-smiled, half-snarled at her. "Thanks. Why don't you just rent a plane and write it in the sky? That way, everybody can know about it."

"Sorry," Sherry giggled, covering her mouth with her hands.

Jill, with Chris beside her, passed by the table and gave Leon a pat on the shoulder. "Good things come to those who wait," she murmured, smiling softly. Then she turned back to Chris and leaned against his arm.

Barry got up from the table and went to stand by his friends. "You two seem awfully happy."

Chris shrugged. "We...reached an understanding."

Rebecca grinned at them. "That 'understanding' being that she has you wrapped around her little finger."

Jill scoffed. "You're one to toss stones."

Blushing, Rebecca turned in to Carlos's chest while the rest of them made cooing noises.

Claire put her chin on her hand and looked at Leon thoughtfully. "You know, we're the only ones here who don't have dates."

Leon dipped the cherry from the sundae into the melted ice cream, and then he grinned. "You're kidding, right? I'm with the best girl here."

"Yeah?" Claire asked, leaning forward.

He swung the cherry in front of his mouth like a pendulum. "Yeah," he told her. He turned to the girl next to him. "Right, Sherry?" He bumped her with his arm.

Sherry saw Claire snicker, but there was also a tiny hint of jealousy there. She smiled sweetly. "Sorry, Leon. I'm already booked for tonight." She slid out of the booth and straightened her skirt in a very ladylike manner. She went over to Barry and grinned. "Right, Mr. Burton?"

Barry laughed heartily. "You got it, Sherry." He offered her his arm like a proud father on his daughter's wedding day.

Leon sat up straight. "Oh, that's cold," he said.

Claire reached over and snatched the cherry from his fingers. "Nope," she said simply. "That's sweet." Then she popped the cherry into her mouth and chewed it happily, goading him with her smile.

Leon's jaw dropped and he made a squeaking noise of disappointment.

Chris went back over to the booth and hustled his sister up from her seat. "Come on, you two. Let's get going before something else happens."

"He started it," Claire protested giddily, following Jill out the door.

"Claire," Chris warned. "Behave."

"Yeah, baby." Leon drawled, leaning toward her with a grin.

Sherry turned around to look at them in front of the soda shop, and she put her hands on her hips like a disgruntled parent. "Can't you guys act your age?" She scolded with a playful snicker.

Claire and Leon exchanged shocked looks. Then Claire smirked. "Let's get her," she suggested.

Leon pointed at Sherry. "You're gonna get it," he started, then ran for the girl.

Sherry bolted away from him down the street, screaming laughter.

Leon pushed past Chris, who shouted, "Hey!" Then Claire barrelled past him, too, with her heels in her hands. He watched Leon and Claire chase the girl down the grassy parts of the street, toward the lot where the cars were parked. He shook his head and turned to Jill, who was still leaning against him dreamily. "I can't take them anywhere."

14 - Forever And Ever

When I see you alone
I see what's in your mind
You want me yes you do
You don't need to tell me

Claire closed the front door behind her and stepped out into the darkness of the evening. Having left Sherry dozing on the queen-size bed in their room, she decided to look for some company. It didn't take her eyes very long to adjust to the low light, and when she saw who was there, she smiled.

Leon sat with his long legs dangling off the side of the porch. His good shoes were next to him, placed neatly side-by-side. He was leaning back on his hands, looking up at the clear sky.

She took off her heels and walked up to him. She sat down beside him, setting her own shoes on her other side. She smiled gently at him. He smiled back.

I know you love me most
No one else take my place
You need me yes you do
Forever and ever

She raised the leg closest to him and pointed her toe, then dropped it down. Her foot swung close to his, her stockinged toes touching his ankle. She gave him a little bump with her shoulder, swaying in and then out again.

Leon chuckled at her, looking her up and down. He mimicked her action but, instead of pulling away, he stayed close to her.

Claire laughed for a second, then closed her eyes and laid her head against his arm.

When we kiss
I see what's in your heart
You love me yes you do
You don't need to tell me

It was all Chris could do to stay standing when Jill pulled out of their kiss. He had kissed her before, but this time was different, somehow. There was something definite about it this time.

She smiled up at him, drowning in his beautiful eyes. How many times had she looked in those eyes and seen that same adoration but ignored it because of her duty, or her pride? No more; she would hold him and never let him go.

I know you love me most
No one else take my place
You need me you do
Forever and ever

Jill dropped her hand to his and tugged gently, leading him to the sofa. She pulled him along with her, and they half-sat, half-tumbled to the cushions together.

He opened his lips to say something, but she stopped him with a finger. Then she smiled and pulled him into another kiss.

We are in bed at night
I can see what you want
You want me yes you do
Aisshitemasu

Rebecca snuggled against Carlos's warm chest, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his pulse.

There had been and probably would be other lovers, but none like him, and no time like now. He had called her beautiful and meant it, not just as a ruse to get her into bed or to make someone else jealous - he really did feel it. She knew it in his kiss, in his warmth, in the electricity that surged into her wherever their bodies met.

At her light shiver, Carlos pulled the covers up, securing them with a one-armed embrace. He kissed the top of her head, rubbing a hand over her hair. Who would have thought that he would fit so well with this girl? Yet he did.

I know how you feel
You have all of my heart
I give you myself
Forever and ever

He glanced at the ticking timekeeper beside the bed - almost one o'clock. But the night was still young, and what was it they said? The night is for lovers.

While Claire and Leon sat watching the stars, making tentative moves to hold each other's hand, and Chris and Jill loved away the months of longing, Carlos cupped Rebecca's face in his hands and pulled her up for another kiss, intending to make good on that old saying. He felt her smile against his lips, and everything was good.