Resident Evil Series Fan Fiction ❯ Uncontrolled Exposure ❯ Chapter 8

Reckless Abandon

Chaosia raised a brow, watching Bastian move towards the door as he tossed her the phone; bouncing his keys from hand to hand as he hurried. She moved to follow, well aware that Wesker was right behind her. They stopped as Bastian reached for the door, the man's voice causing her to turn back to him with a raised brow as Bastian seemed to freeze.

“And just what do you think you're doing, Shaw?”

He turned, looking them over before he grinned to her sheepishly. And in that moment she knew he was abandoning her. Leaving her here-alone- with the very man he'd brought up here to socialize. She felt her heart freeze in her chest before it literally exploded, anger and hurt pushing against her ribs in a rolling boil as she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh this was so not happening. Not after everything else that had occurred since she'd opened the door for Khail to walk inside the day before yesterday.

“Oh c'mon you two. They need the help . . . and if I don't go Chris is gonna toss Khail in a shallow grave somewhere on the east summit.”

Bastian shifted on his feet, his chin dipping as he looked up at her through his lashes; his own blue eyes becoming impossibly sad and watery as his pleaded with her. She snorted mentally, trying not to act on the impulse. He was giving her the puppy dog look? Really? The look that she had mastered and turned against all three members of her family when she couldn't talk or con her way out of trouble?

She crossed her arms, her eyes widening just enough for her to look at him incredulously before she finally rolled them. She turned from him slightly, uncaring that she probably looked like a spoiled petulant child. Her oldest brother-the good, level headed and loving brother who had never made her come second since their mother had drawn her last breath- was abandoning her. With one of the most egotistical and confounding people she'd ever met as her only company. Who-despite being sinfully attractive-made her skin crawl with the way he stared and acted.

As soon as she'd locked herself away because of Khail's attitude she'd taken a giant step back and looked over the very limited interaction she'd had with Captain Albert Wesker. And what she'd realized hadn't made her feel even slightly better about being cooped up with just him for any amount of time. He was intense but while he seemed content to try and interact she could tell it was forced. It was almost like their semi-conversations on the porch were some sort of experiment- not experiment. They were like some great sacrifice for him. All of his concern and questions hadn't seemed genuine at all until she'd shown she wasn't some idiot; like he'd already decided he was going to bear through whatever her brother wanted because there was no way anyone would meet his standards.

Something about him that set her on edge . . . because it reminded her entirely too much of the kind of person her father was rumored to be. Intelligent, entitled, cold and driven by nothing other than his own ambitions and needs. And completely uncaring of anyone or anything that got burnt to cinders in his quest to get what he wanted.

And then there was the way he'd reacted over the Arklay strain. Like she was doing something wrong and he was fighting the urge to correct her. She snorted to herself. She hadn't needed a father up until this point and she sure as hell didn't appreciate him behaving like he was going to step into the position. God the more she thought about it the more she was beginning to question Bastian's sanity. And understand him asking her for advice on how to deal with him.

Who better than the daughter who was almost completely like the father that resembled him so heavily?

She looked at Bastian, refusing to glance back at Wesker even as he stepped just a tiny bit closer. And suddenly-as her brother's eyes flashed to the man behind her-she wondered if even Bastian knew his reasons for trying to `help' his boss.

“Fine. Go. But don't expect me to be here when you get back.”

Bastian flinched before taking a step closer to her, moving away from the door as she turned from him completely. She kept her eyes closed, her arms huddled around her as she mentally ticked through the list of things she needed to do. If she played this right then she could get Wesker out of the house with Bastian . . . which would give her the time to actually pull herself together enough to be friendly when the rest inevitably followed her brothers back down the mountain.

Or give her a head start on escaping back to Raccoon City. God that idea was sounding better and better with every second that ticked by.

“Oh c'mon Chaosia. Don't be like that. If it were you, you know I would go-“

“No if it were me I would be right here. I wouldn't have run off with my girlfriend and ditched my family. And I sure as hell would've never let us leave without the proper equipment to handle something as controllable as fixing a flat tire. And why shouldn't I go? I can study alone at the townhouse and get far more accomplished in just as much time.”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“Chaos you don't have to get this done right this second. Or even in the next few days. Besides I know you're just proof reading and bolstering those damned novels you've written. You were done three months ago . . . now you're just being anal. So quit with the drama queen act and park your skinny little ass right back in the study. Or out on the porch or in your room or wherever else you want to hide-since you're obviously not going to tell me what's really bothering you. But you're not going back to Raccoon. At least not tonight. Its getting dark . . . and besides the food should be done by time I get back.”

She cursed to herself, hating that he knew her well enough to read between the lines. Damn it! This is why she hated arguing with him. Khail let her run all over him-despite his pigheaded ways-but Bastian would stand his ground if he thought he was doing the right thing. Unfortunately for her he wasn't doing what she honestly needed him to do. She scoffed, glaring at him defiantly as she jerked her chin up; noticing the tiny flash to his eyes that just made her even madder.

Her brothers and mother had always done that, gasp or flinch when she did something that was so `him' that it was heartwrenching. And once they'd finally told her it only served to royally piss her off.

“Really? And who's going to stop me Sebastian? You?!”

Bastian straightened, giving her a skeptical look before he finally rolled his eyes; moving to the small table just inside the door. And it wasn't until he flicked her keys in the air and caught them that she realized what he was doing. She blanched as he nodded, turning and stalking out the door; calling over his shoulder before he slammed it.

“Yeah, brat. Me. Now be a good little idiot and stay!”

She blinked rapidly, looking at the door in shock before she finally turned; intent to stalk back off to her study. Only to run face first into the very hard, very immobile chest of Albert Wesker. She nearly toppled, his hands catching her arms in a vice like grip as she flinched. She looked up at him, stunned as he rolled his eyes; shaking his head as he tsked her. Letting her see that every single thing she'd been fretting over was right.

“Tsk, tsk. Such a temper Dear Heart.”

She shook herself, jerking away from him as she stepped back; glaring up at him through her bangs and lashes as she pushed her hair aside.

“You have no fucking clue, Captain. So before you find out I would suggest you refrain from interfering.”

She went to push by him when he caught her, his grip nowhere near as light as it had been scant seconds before. His blue eyes were locked on hers, his lips drawn tight as he glared down at her threatening; bending slightly at the waist so their noses were almost touching. And when he spoke it wasn't the same droll, deep baritone she'd heard thus far. His voice was darker, dangerous . . . with an almost velvet aftertone that made her want to shiver.

Dear God who had Bastian brought into her house?

“And you will do well to refrain from further displays of impertinence and egotism. Your brother is merely acting in the manner he deems best. There was no need for your dramatics, Dear Heart.”

She growled, moving closer as she seethed at him through clamped teeth; her jaws aching from how hard she was clenching them.

“Just who in the hell do you think you are?! In case you've forgotten you're a guest in my house, Captain. Not Bastian's or Khail's. Mine. So while it apparently isn't something you deem necessary I'm afraid my ego demands you treat me with respect. I'm not some airhead or imbecile. I earned my first PhD by the time I was nineteen. And am damn close to receiving another two. I have not worked myself near to death for some-some cop to stand here and-”

His eyes flashed; his nostrils flaring indignantly before he seemed to collect himself. A second later he smirked down at her condescendingly as his grip tightened minutely, the slight tilt of lip enough to make her hands ball into fists seemingly on their own as her arms started to quiver. She-unlike her brothers- had never really been prone to unnecessary acts of violence. At least not since she'd earned her first doctorate and jail time had become an issue. But seeing him grin down at her so smugly made her want to smear the smirk right off his face. And see his nose and lips gushing blood while she was at it.

“I'll do as I please, Ms. Shaw. You would do well to remember that I'm the cop who is your dear brother's superior. I could choose to repay your little flare of temper against him. Or I could always tell him that you're working with a deadly virus; exposing yourself to unnecessary risk just to further your precious career. Tell me? How would your brother take learning that you've been in direct contact with an engineered virus that is constantly evolving? That-from everything you told me and everything I could deduce- you would be unable to survive should it be turned into the weapon its obviously being bred towards?”

Her eyes hardened into chips of aqua ice, her lips pulling back into another snarl as he jerked her closer; his grip tightening again to the point to where it was painful. But she didn't back down, hissing at him through clenched teeth as his face fell back into a visage of anger and annoyance. Before it morphed back to smug condescension.

“You wouldn't fucking dare- how do you even know that? I didn't tell you that!”

He smirked, shaking his head at her pityingly.

“Because I didn't attain my Doctorates in biochemistry, virology and genetics for nothing. You're one to three, Dear Heart. I knew the second you I saw the stain it had been tampered with. Just as I know Bastian will die if he ever suspected you were involved with it. For your thesis or not. Do we have an understanding?”

She bit her lip hard but nodded, forcing herself to calm down as he pulled back; looking self satisfied as he nodded to her. She went to pull away from him before he stopped her, his fingers digging into her skin slightly. She sighed in frustration, glaring up at him again.

“Oh for the love of-What do you want?”

He rolled his eyes before giving her an equally exasperated look.

“For you to stop behaving as a spoiled child. Your brother has done nothing but chatter about this trip for almost a month straight. I refuse to deal with him moping because you upset him.”

She blinked, stunned. He wasn't going to try and blackmail her into showing him the other slides? If he could see something was up with the SARS stains then he knew something was off about the other. Actually he probably knew more than her. But he surprised her, his fingers squeezing her arm lightly as he continued to give her a pointed look. She sighed, glancing away before she bit her lip again; loathing herself even more as she spoke.

“I just wanted us to be together; as a family. No one else, you know? We haven't had many opportunities to do that in the past few years. And despite what he thinks I'm not done. Not even close since they dropped this virus on me. Up until two months ago I was assigned smallpox and anthrax . . . and now all of a sudden I was given this.”

She sighed, looking up at him through her lashes.

“I apologize, okay? I just-don't say anything to Bastian. He worries enough as it is . . . and as crazy as all of this is making me it's only for another few months. Then I'm free. I just have to get it done.”

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Wesker watched Chaosia as she spoke, trying not to notice the way she blushed. Or how she seemed intent to chew her bottom lip off whenever she would pause. He sighed, going against his better judgment as he released her; taking a step back as he nodded to her. He couldn't believe he was about to do this but his mouth seemed to work on its own; making the offer before he'd had the proper time to weigh the pros and cons.

“I could assist you in drafting the rest of your thesis. Review what your notes and help you refine the material. So long as you agree to cease this ridiculousness for the remainder of this . . . holiday.”

He watched her shift on her feet, looking up at him skeptically before she closed her eyes; obviously considering the offer before her. She would be insane to turn down the help of someone who had educationally surpassed her . . . but from everything he'd just seen he was confident stating that she was damned close to certifiable. So it wasn't too unthinkable that she would refuse his uncharacteristic aide. Or at least he hoped. But when she opened her eyes and looked up at him, her blue green irises locking with his own as her pink little tongue darted out to moisten her lips he knew he was not going to be so fortunate.

“Do you promise not to say anything to Bastian about the SARS? I know he won't know what it is but he does still have contacts in the Rangers and a particularly annoying ex that works with the CDC. Meaning that all it would take is one slip and he's in full freakout mode. I don't want him knowing about this. Period.”

Wesker raised a brow before an idea struck him, his lips curling into a small smirk of their own accord as he nodded. He shifted closer to her, bringing his hand up for her to take as he laid the final piece to her trap. If she agreed she would be in his pocket . . . and he would be able to keep her from outing Birkin's work before it was time. He still didn't know how she'd been able to find a sample of the G-Virus but she had . . . and he knew he needed to make sure she never solved the riddle of where and who it'd come from.

“If you agree to show me everything you've been working on. Including the slides you first showed Miss Redfield.”

Chaosia looked at him warily, withdrawing from him just the tiniest bit as her eyes narrowed. He however had anticipated such a reaction and recovered, artfully setting her paranoia to rest when he gave her his most earnest smile. It had worked on women for years-from beauty queens to socialites to scientists. And he knew from the way she blushed that it hadn't failed him here.

“I assure you Miss Shaw that I am merely curious. I haven't worked in a lab in over three years but I do try to keep up with what's occurring in my fields . . . I honestly never thought I'd get the opportunity to see another fledgling virus in person. Especially a new human coronavirus.”

Chaosia seemed to mellow, her cheeks still flushed as she looked at his hand. And-after a few baited breathes- she placed her petite hand in his, shaking once as she nodded to him. But when she spoke again she never bothered to pull away, her grip on his hand staying firm as she kept her eyes on his. God if she put her mind to it she would be terrifying; a great potential asset at his disposal. Now he just had to figure out how to mold her to his purposes.

And exactly what he wanted her purpose to be.

“So long as you swear on your captaincy that you won't breathe a word to anyone else. I was given the sample for work . . . its from an active case and I am not supposed to share it with anyone.”

Wesker grinned, squeezing her hand slightly as he nodded. The words leaving his mouth sounding sincere and heartfelt even though they meant absolutely nothing. But there was no need for her to know that.

“I swear, Dear Heart. On my badge and the safety of my squad, I won't tell a soul.”

Chaosia nodded, going to pull her hand back; her fingers dragging against his palm before she wrapped her arms around herself again. She glanced to the kitchen then turned back to him, her eyes suddenly glimmering mischievously.

“Alright then. Are you hungry? Because I happen to know where there's half of a homemade red velvet cake tucked away.”

Wesker grinned to himself, nodding as Chaosia's lips spread into a slow smile. He stepped back, extending his arm towards the kitchen as he dipped slightly at the waist in a mock bow. He knew he probably seemed goofy but damnation he felt too good getting his way to care. He needed to remember to put in for a raise for Shaw. Because for once having to interact with another human being-for a reason other than murder, sex or morbid curiosity- was going to pay off for him.

“Well by all means. Lead the way, Dear heart.”

Chaosia rolled her eyes at the petname before giving him a pointed look, keeping her hands buried in the pooling sleeves of her cardigan as she led him towards the kitchen.

“I wouldn't do that in front of Bastian and Khail. Because boss or not my brothers aren't going to hesitate to try and intimidate and/or assault you if they even think you're trying something. They make Chris look tame.”

He raised a brow before he grinned darkly, refusing to pass on the opportunity to have a little mean spirited fun at the girl's expense. It wasn't like she hadn't earned it by being so damned vexing. He stepped closer, dipping to speak over her shoulder; his lips brushing the outer shell of her ear as she shivered.

“Oh really? I guess I'll just have to use it in private won't I . . . Dear Heart.”

She glared at him, putting her hands on her hips as she stopped in front of the counter; her embarrassment plainly visible beneath her ire and temper.

“Have so few people told you no that you don't recognize subtly when you see it?”

He shrugged his brows, easing back with a smug grin.

“I will admit I am accustomed to getting my way, Dear Heart.”

She rolled her eyes, turning back to stretch so she could reach above the fridge; opening the top cabinet and tugging a large cake carrier from the hiding place. He reached over her, tugging it from her hands and placing it on the counter; grinning as she grumbled. When was the last time anyone had spoken so freely around him?

“Translated: Why yes I am a cocky jackass. Thank you for noticing . . . and I am going to continue to harass you because, oh you guessed it. I am a sadist at heart. Dear Heart.”

He chuckled, not bothering to cover his laughter as she continued to gripe. And as she sliced pieces of the cake and moved to brew fresh coffee Wesker never realized that he'd laughed more in the past two days than he had in the past two years. Or that he was particularly thrilled by the way the girl leaned against the counter beside him, shoulder to shoulder as they ate cake and patiently waited for their coffee to brew; an almost easy silence falling between them.

Maybe Bastian knew what he was doing after all.

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