Resident Evil Series Fan Fiction ❯ Uncontrolled Exposure ❯ Chapter 14

Consent

July 1996

Chaosia growled, all but shoving the ruined gloves into the trash. That was the seventh pair she'd snapped today . . . and the way it was looking she would be snapping even more before it was over with. She turned, grabbing the chart to make her corrections. The idiots from first shift had almost fucked this up completely. And now she and Connors were stuck trying to fix the mistakes on top of taking on the new autopsies.

Meaning they were slammed and damn near dead.

And apparently so was her fucking pen. She threw the pen into the trash, pushing out and into the hallway before moving into the other large cold room. God hopefully she would find a fucking pen that would work! And then maybe she could go ahead and get the rest of her shit done before she went home. She rummaged around the countertop, picking up several pens and testing them before she found one that would at least make a decipherable mark. It wasn't perfect but it would do for now.

She turned, pushing back out into the hall before trying not to groan as she looked up and spotted Captain Wesker rounding the corner. The STARS commander was deep in conversation with her boss but she knew that wouldn't last long. Just like she knew the second he saw her he would start pestering her.

Again.

Wasn't it bad enough that she'd already had to listen to Bastian talk her ear off for almost a solid hour about how great it was that he'd gone out with the Captain the night before? Which had pretty much been his subtle attempt to goad her into accepting their next invitation and she knew it. Something she wouldn't be doing any time soon, so long as Wesker continued to be smug and aggravating. She'd put as much distance between herself and the stoic blonde as she could before she'd snapped at him but it still hadn't eased her irritation with the man. Actually all she earned was Bastian's wrath next to Wesker's.

God why had he ever decided he wanted to be friends with the weirdo again?

If she'd known that accepting his apology was going to open her up to this; she would've stabbed him with a fork or something. She sighed, running a hand over her face. Okay so going out with the man at her `celebration lunch' hadn't been as bad as she'd thought it would be . . . but therein laid the problem. She couldn't get too attached or involved with Wesker without him getting even deeper under her skin. And when all of this was said and done-his momentary fascination or curiosity with her sated- she knew he wasn't going to continue any form of relationship with her. Hell, he'd probably never see her again outside of work! So she needed to distance herself from him for her own safety.

She'd had her share of casual relationships but she could see the danger here. Wesker wasn't just someone who was attractive or even mildly interesting. He was one of her brother's friends-hell his fucking boss- and he shared far more of her interests than any other person she'd met. He didn't think her locking herself away to research and study was odd-he'd told her that during his own graduate studies he'd been prone to doing the same. And he didn't seem to mind the fact that she worked in the morgue.

Which were part of the reasons a small portion of her wanted to see what could happen between them. And if he was really as good as the drunken kisses and blurry memories from the last night on the lake made her think.

She growled, slamming the chart down on the slab as soon as she was inside the autopsy room.

She didn't need to think like that. And she should be thankful that their idiocy hadn't burned either of them. Because she'd been about ready to make an ass of herself; and a liar out of her brother. People who wanted to date-generally- didn't hop in bed on the first night. One night stands did. And she'd seen for herself just how he discarded those. She snorted; she wasn't stupid . . . she knew something was off about it all-about him and his interest in her- she just didn't know what.

Chaosia sighed, bracing herself on the table before turning to go grab an attendant to put the room to rights. And ran right into the source of most of her recent problems. Christ she hadn't even heard him come in! Wesker caught her, steadying her as she glared at him; suddenly feeling self-conscious about her appearance. She'd come in to a nasty first case-the body nearly destroyed beyond recognition with copious amounts of blood and bodily fluids leaking everywhere. Which had led to her having to change into a set of scrubs and one of Connor's spare labcoats. She sighed as she looked at him from behind the black thick rimmed glasses she wore for work, trying not to grimace at the raised brow he'd turned on her.

“What do you need Captain?'

He sighed, letting his hands fall from her arms as she took a step back; his voice softer than she usually heard it.

“Just stopping to check in Dr. Shaw. Though I can see it was a mistake. Your brother mentioned you were . . . rather struggling to convert the physical files to digital. I had intended to offer for Vickers to assist your office. Dr. Connors just wanted me to clear it with you first-seeing as you are apparently the archive director as of four weeks ago.”

Chaosia stilled, blinking as she felt her cheeks start to burn. She reached up, tugging her glasses off and pushing them into her hair; trying not to grimace as a large section of her curls started to fall around the frames. She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, nodding to him as she looked up him through her lashes.

“Oh . . . well uh-that would be wonderful, Captain. I would appreciate that.”

She turned, only making a step before he stopped her; his fingers barely touching her arm.

“Wait . . . I know. I know this must seem terribly forward- or as it stands backward but would you . . . like to accompany me to lunch? I've heard-your brother says great things about Grayson Deli and I've yet to try it.”

She stilled, looking at him before she shook her head. There wasn't any way he was asking her to a lunch date-not with the way she'd shot him down every single time he'd tried to talk to her in the past month. And even if he was she needed to say no. She needed to make sure she didn't land back in bed with him after all. Because she doubted her brothers' sanity would last if she let that happen . . . or if either of them found out about the first time.

“Look, I'm actually going to be lucky to eat at all today-what with how swamped we are. And if I do I'm ordering out tonight so-“

He nodded, looking almost crestfallen before she sighed. He reached up and ran his hand through his hair, taking a step back towards the door.

“Oh. I'm sorry, I had no clue. I won't keep you then. What time do you wish Vickers to report tomorrow?”

She watched him turn away, moving deliberately towards the door when she sighed. She knew she was going to hate herself for this but what the hell. She needed to eat anyway, right? She nodded, reaching out to stop him.

“Look . . . I can't tonight but maybe another time?”

He perked, looking at her with hopeful skepticism. And she almost felt bad for refusing him the three other times . . . until he opened his mouth. His lips tugged to the side in a smug smirk as he raised a brow at her.

“Are you sure you don't mind, Dear heart?”

She nodded, giving him a warning look as she crossed her arms. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, trying not to snap at him.

“Don't make me change my mind, Captain. I'm not quite sure why I'm agreeing to this to begin with.”

He looked her over before his eyes darkened, turning almost insulted before he seemed to gather himself. Then he turned on the charm, giving her a come hither smile as he laughed.

“You wound me, Chaosia. In the time since we returned from the lake you've barely given me the time of day-so to speak. When all I've wanted to get to know you better. Maybe even see if you'd willingly tolerate going to dinner one night. Seeing as in we became so intimately acquainted while on our holiday.”

She stopped, turning to look at him in shock before she opened her mouth; floundering as she tried to figure out something to say. He grinned, chuckling at her darkly as he stepped forward; extending his arm to her.

“Oh my, I've rendered you speechless. Well, I'll take advantage of that and leave you to your work. Wouldn't want you to miss your next patient now would we?”

She looked to him, tugging her glasses down over her eyes as she sighed; shaking her head. He took a step towards the door, giving her an almost smug look as she chided him.

“Ha ha. Just send Officer Vickers at the beginning of his shift. Dr. Connors will be here so she can start him in the right direction. And do make it a priority to keep just how well we're acquainted to yourself.”

He grinned, waiting until she'd turned to reach out and catch her attention; extending his hand to her as she went to step back towards her table. She raised a brow but took it, blushing as he brushed his lips over her knuckles.

“Of course, Dear heart. I would hate to sully your reputation so early. I will call you tomorrow.”

She inwardly flinched at the now familiar endearment; something about the way he used it here setting off warnings in her head. She looked him over, trying to figure out why when he ran his thumb over her knuckles again. Giving her a warm, almost earnest grin. She raised a brow.

“Dear heart? Really? Why do you keep calling me that?”

He blinked, seeming slightly off balance at the question before he grinned; laughing at her. He tugged her closer, still running his thumb over her knuckles.

“Yes . . . well it's a rather, well I suppose archaic is the best thing to call it way of saying darling. People use the term entirely wrong these days . . . myself included. It doesn't offend you . . . does it? I do not mean any insult with it, I promise. Only endearment.”

She shook her head slowly, slightly stunned before she blushed at the meaning behind it. Trying not to let the fact that he'd been steadily calling her that for over a month now influence her in anyway. She shook herself, slowly extracting her hand from his as his grin fell. She still didn't understand what was going on here-why he kept after her even though they'd already fucked. But she wasn't going to lie about not being interested in finding out.

Besides, if he kept seeking her out; openly pursuing her then that had to stand for something . . . right?

_________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________

Wesker moved through the halls of the morgue, trying to keep from gritting his teeth. He couldn't believe the lengths he was having to go to just to ensure that the girl didn't automatically label him an enemy. And all because he'd let himself be careless, becoming so damned intoxicated that he had no longer been in control of his own impulses. Or his own body.

But despite his own anger at his foolishness he was almost as angry with her. Something about the way she had looked up at him made his blood boil. Like she couldn't decide whether to be happy or cautious; to run to him or from him. He sighed, reaching up and pushing his hair back; shaking his head to him himself. Allowing some of his doubts to surface as he stepped out and into the warm summer night.

Christ this was never going to work.

He took his glasses off, rubbing his tired eyes before he moved towards his car. The logical side of his brain kept telling him he shouldn't be mad at her but he was. He'd gotten into it with William almost as soon as the sun had risen, the nearly hour long argument putting him in a sour mood. Then he'd gotten to the precinct to find not only had he left his keys at home- meaning he had to be buzzed in to every fucking room and kept getting locked out- but that Irons had decided to deploy Bravo on another pointless errand. One in which Enrico Marini had been grazed by a bullet-meaning he would be out three days until he was cleared to return- which had infuriated him even further. And now here he was, holding his sunglasses as he stalked towards the Mercedes; trying to anticipate just how Chaosia would react to his call in mere hours.

She was always so damned paranoid when it came to him, never fully relaxing unless she had alcohol in hand-something her brother had informed him the night before she was cutting back on. He rolled his eyes, pulling his keys from his pocket before clipping his glasses to his vest; trying not to snort. Like she had any reason to be afraid of him; her even insinuating such made his blood boil. Especially since she'd probably become a hassle like every other woman he'd ever dealt with-given enough time.

So what if he wasn't going to do anything but use her to keep an eye on her boss and the happenings within the morgue? So he wasn't as interested as he acted-though he would be remiss to deny he wasn't damn near eager to see if she was any better sexually when she was sober- there was no reason for her to look at him like that. He hadn't given her one . . . not since they'd come back from Arklay.

None whatsoever.

But-the little voice in the back of his head whispered, the darker part of his mind slithering to the surface as he unlocked the Mercedes- she can see how uninterested you were before. She's just cautious because she knows you can hurt her-hurt her brother. And what more is you know you are going to . . . You are going to get close- tear it all down after you have what you want. Why should she not be afraid of that? Of you?

He took in a deep breath, trying not to growl as he slammed the car door, starting the engine. He moved, going to put the car in gear when his cell buzzed; alerting him to the incoming call. He sighed, pulling the offending device from his pocket before raising a brow.

Why was he calling him?

He hit the button, pulling the thing to his ear as he fought another growl. God today just wouldn't end fast enough.

“What William?”

“Wow, are you that angry with me? I figured after you got to parade through STARS you would be right as rain. Considering that's where you want to be now.”

He sighed, closing his eyes. He opened his mouth to continue when William cut him off, his voice losing its edge and bitterness as he sighed into the phone heavily.

“I-shit I'm sorry Al. I didn't mean that. It's just been hellacious trying to work on this right here lately. Spencer wants updates almost constantly and he's starting to push harder for results. And I know you're under a ton of stress with everything going on-with your assignment but I can't help but wonder if my lab wouldn't be running smoother if you were in it with me.”

He paused before continuing, Wesker able to hear traces of the same paranoia he'd heard when Alexia had surpassed him. He raised a brow, listening closely. His friend was stressed . . . meaning that G was close to another breakthrough. And William was going to run himself ragged until he reached it.

“Hell, I have to do most my work at home now just to get something done. It's like the others are incompetent! Like they want me to fucking fail or-“

“William when did you last sleep?”

There was a long pause before Birkin finally answered him, his voice almost timid and embarrassed. So much so that Wesker could see him blushing, scratching the side of his nose sheepishly as he rolled from spot to spot in his office listlessly. God Annette was supposed to be babysitting him, to prevent something like this from happening again.

“Uh . . . wow. Almost four days. I just can't get my brain to stop.”

Wesker sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest as he tried not to curse. God he couldn't do everything!

“Go to sleep William. We will discuss everything else after you recover your senses. Not until.”

“Okay, Al. I'll make sure not to be crabby at lunch tomorrow. Are we still going to Deliviani?”

Wesker raised a brow before answering. He didn't relish having to do this but he would. Hopefully Birkin would be too exhausted to put up much of a fight.

“I am not going to be able to make it tomorrow.”

The other researcher whined into the phone, Wesker chuckling to himself in spite of how aggravating it was. It was almost like William had regressed to his sixteen year old self, his voice actually cracking as he spoke. God the man needed sleep or he was going to cross breed Ebola with salmonella-again.

“But why?! We always eat on Wednesdays. You eat with your other friend on Thursday-“

“I have a date, William. One important to my assignment. And I will tell you everything tomorrow. Now go to sleep.”

“*SIGH* Fine Al. I'm going.”

He waited until the phone clicked off before he let himself breathe, shaking his head as his smile fell. William was being pushed just as hard as he was . . . but the question was why? What was Spencer's aim in all of this-what could he possibly gain? He shook his head putting the car in gear as he started towards his home. God it was days like this one that he almost wished he'd stayed in the fucking labs.

Because the only date he'd ever had to invest so much effort into facilitating-up until this point- was William's first outing with Annette.

______________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________