Took a little liberty with the Resident Evil: Extinction timeline. Otherwise... that is all.

This is VERY loosely based on a dream I had. While what happens, the actions the characters take are the same as the ones in my dream, the emotions are not. I got this idea from my dream, but the emotions aren't mine; they belong to Claire. Further explanation at the end of the story.

Please review. It makes me happy. And I work for the federal government, so I need as much happiness as I can get. ;-P

A smile.

Such a simple expression. Not a smirk. Not feigned emotion. Not forced or faked. But a genuine smile that touched not only the lips, but the eyes as well. A smile that would wash all facial features in an honest, unrestrained light. A smile that would be a window past the barriers and walls she had erected around herself, allowing Claire to see into her, if only for a moment, into the real Alice that lay underneath the layers of grief and pain and guilt and fear.

It was the only thing that Claire wanted from Alice since the moment she stumbled into their camp and saved them all in an eruption of flames and a rush of sheer physical power that left the desert crackling with an unnatural energy even after the fire had dissipated.

There had been suspicion initially, of course. Claire had only survived as long as she had, her convoy had only lasted so long, because of her wariness. A momentary lapse in vigilance was an unguarded opening for the Undead hordes that dogged their every step. So she could not afford to be instantly trusting.

But as time progressed, as Alice proved herself not only trustworthy but a good person, Claire felt herself struggling to maintain her distance.

Alice was broken. Everyone was broken now. In a world where death came so easily, where once dead, people still rose and walked, friends becoming the agents of the same terror and Infection that they had succumbed to. No one still clawing at survival for the past six years had not lost someone, had not watched the death of a loved one and subsequently borne witness to their Undeath. How could anyone bear all the ravages of the apocalypse and not be wounded?

But Alice was broken in a different way. The guilt was easy to recognize for Claire. The woman suffered the same weighted grief that lurked just beneath the surface, always present and palpable. It was the same burden that plagued Claire. But there was something else, something indiscernible that Claire could not identify or understand.

Claire held herself aloof from her convoy, the others whose lives she was charged with protecting, because she had to be strong for them. Alice held herself at arms' length for another reason. It was fear, Claire finally decided. Not of death or Infection or loss or danger, but of herself.

Despite the obvious toll of Alice's mysterious past, Claire liked Alice. She was intelligent; moreover, she was compassionate, caring for the strangers of a convoy to the point she was willing to risk her own life to protect them. She stayed with them, even though it would have been easy for her to leave. Her cleverness, her sarcastic near-flirty comments, her maddeningly smug smirk, demonstrated she had not completely succumbed to her wounds, that her humanity remained intact.

As the days and weeks passed, as they headed towards Las Vegas for fuel that would carry them to a land untouched by the corruption of the T-virus, Claire tried to maintain the careful distance established between herself and Alice.

It was not easy, but still she tried. Attraction was not a luxury she could afford, no matter how her heart fluttered or how it ached at the sight of the other woman. Sometimes it seemed as if it could be so easy to submit, to surrender herself to those pale, glacier blue eyes. She constantly reminded herself that standing in between them was a yawning gulf, a chasm of raw emotion and painful pasts that could never be traversed.

Inevitably though, she would falter. Alice would speak to her, and Claire would be instantly drawn in. Her eyes would linger too long with every glimpse. Even a careful touch, Alice's hand grazing her shoulder or their fingers brushing as they simultaneously reached for the radio mounted to the dash in the Hummer, sent Claire's nerves reeling, her chest tight with something akin to fear.

But what she really wanted from Alice, what she craved despite all her efforts to the contrary, was for Alice to smile. Not something fake, but a true smile. A crack in the otherwise impenetrable façade.

Little did she know that smile would be her undoing.

They had been loading the last of supplies into the back of the Hummer as they prepared to break camp and continue their journey. Alice hefted the last box into the Hummer easily, closing the door and turning to face the younger woman.

Claire had laughed, an unusual sound even to her own ears. There was so little to laugh about the past six years. But as Alice faced her, the collar of her long duster jacket was standing up. Claire was reminded of the idiot frat boys she had seen in college, the ones who intentionally wore the collars of their polo shirts popped up.

Without thinking, she closed the distance between them and adjusted Alice's collar, smoothing it down flat. It was innocent. She was about to withdraw her hands when her eyes met Alice's and first saw the smile there. She was frozen, trapped by that smile, her hands still resting on the lapels of the jacket, against Alice's chest.

Alice's smile was colored with amusement, partly with mischief. She did not just smile with her lips, but her whole mouth, revealing dazzling white teeth. She dropped her eyes, as if somewhat abashed, before raising them again.

It was beauty. It felt as if Alice's smile was the only purity left in the world, the only thing left untainted by the corruption of the T-virus. It was the single instance of respite that Claire could recall in the past six years of death and fleeing and violence. Tears welled in her eyes until Alice's face, her smile blurred.

"I…" Claire opened her mouth to speak, but found she could not. Their bodies were so close; she was able to feel Alice's chest rise and fall with each breath under her hands. In that moment, as Alice smiled at her, she knew that her feelings for the other woman were not only known, but reciprocated. Reality slammed into her gut, as hard as a mallet. With the simple gesture of adjusting a collar, she had betrayed herself. She shook her head, horrified by her behavior. "I… I can't let this happen." She whispered, more to herself than Alice.

She felt the emptiness at the lack of contact even as she pulled away, even as she fled.

There was still supplies that needed to be loaded, vehicles that needed to be checked, duties that needed to be attended to before they set off. It would be easy to lose herself in routine and duty again, to bury the anguish that seemed to squeeze the breath out of her lungs.

When Alice found her again, she was hunched over the engine of another truck, studiously checking the oil, the fluid levels. She ignored Alice, pretended to be immersed in work. But she could not ignore the hand on the back of her neck.

Alice's hand was startlingly cool against her bare skin, and inwardly, Claire flinched.

"I… want you to know…" Alice's voice hitched with uncertainty, as if she was experiencing the same fear that petrified Claire. "…how much I value you. How important you are. To me."

Inhaling as if it might solidify her resolve, she turned to face Alice and repeat that she couldn't, that they shouldn't…

But the moment she faced her, she saw Alice's face and lost all words. Alice. The small, courageous woman who had saved them all. Alice, so strong yet so damaged that the only thing she seemed to fear was herself. Alice, who coaxed feelings Claire long thought impossible to the surface. Alice, who crossed the chasm between them and reached for the front of Claire's shirt to pull her closer.

Their lips met. Claire squeezed her eyes shut but still felt those lips on hers, torturing her with the slowest kiss. She felt gentle fingertips rest lightly on her cheekbones. Her own hands reached for Alice of their own volition, once again resting on her collarbones. It was as if the moment, the kiss would last forever, the two of them frozen in time, locked in a kiss that would never end, safe and protected from the rest of the world.

But the kiss did end. Claire's cheeks were wet when she pulled away. The illusion, the moment of serenity was shattered.

"I can't." Claire wrenched herself away from Alice, turning her back on the one thing she wanted.

The smile she had so desperately hungered for had not been the crack in Alice's façade, but the crack in her own. Instead of gazing into Alice and seeing past the careful countenance she presented, she had seen through a window into her own vulnerability.

She couldn't.

If this ended like my dream did, Claire would run off and jump into a swimming pool with her iPhone in her pocket, then have a fight with her father about her car being in the shop, and her lazy ass brothers would refuse to take her to aforementioned shop to pick up the car. And then participate in a swim competition.

Even though this is based on my dream, I want to make it clear that these are not my feelings. In my dream, I don't want to kiss the woman because she's a crazy bitch and I try to get away from her. But the dream-situation gave me the idea for this story, and a good way for Claire to angst. Don't know why I feel compelled to explain all this, but I do.

May the Force be with you. Leave me some feedback, please. :-)