Disclaimer: I do not own Claire or Wesker or anything else in the Resident Evil universe, this is simply a work of FanFiction and a tribute to the awesomeness of the series.

Psychobabble – Claire/Wesker

Claire sat hunched over her laptop, typing furiously in a last ditch effort to finish her college assignment due the next morning. She honestly had no idea why the use of emotive language was significant in the work of Edgar Allan Poe and her head was pounding just thinking about the hard hours ahead of her. She glared into the blue light of the screen brushing auburn bangs from her eyes. Sitting back in her chair she cursed under her breath.

It was a humid Friday night, the kind you would expect any sane college student to deem unproductive in favour of partying but Claire knew that she had to get this done now or risk not getting it done at all. I wouldn't be any easier in an hour's time. Taking a sip of coffee from her thermos she stretched her scantily clad legs out beneath the table. The hot weather had been reason enough for her to hang up her fat pants in favour of a pair of black boy shorts and a baggy t-shirt with an unfamiliar band insignia on the front. She assumed it must have been Chris's once but she was constantly stealing his stuff and considering his sudden increase in muscle mass it was probably far too small for him now anyway.

She rubbed her eyes with a clenched fist returning her gaze to the screen before her, determined to start the damn essay at least. After an hour of staring blankly at the screen Claire let her head hit the keyboard, closing her eyes and exhaling forcefully. In all honesty she would rather fight zombie hordes than sit down and do course work. Maybe this university thing wasn't gonna work out after all….

Claire sat up suddenly when she heard the ring of the phone break the silence. She swore loudly when she realised she had fallen asleep and groggily leapt to her feet. Stumbling into the living room, she stopped in the kitchen doorway and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she spoke into the receiver, voice faint due to her sudden wake up call.

"Dear Heart… It's been awhile."

Claire almost dropped the phone before an unimpressed look crossed her face.

"Very funny Chris, don't you have more important things to do then prank call me? You do realise I am working on a very important assignment right now," She heard a mirthless laugh from the end of the line, one that caused her senses to sharpen with adrenaline.

"I can assure you my dear; this is anything but a prank call."

"Wesker…. How did you get this number?" She choked out, heart beating forcefully in her chest.

"That is of no importance at present Miss Redfield," Wesker drawled. She could hear the smirk in his voice. There was a long silence as Claire contemplated what she should do about this unexpected interruption.

"If you don't watch yourself I will wake Chris..." Once again an empty chuckle echoed in her ear.

"Don't be foolish Dear Heart. I know you're alone." She felt her stomach coil and her mouth go dry. Taking the phone with her she ran to the nearest window peering out into the night half expecting to see a silhouette with dark sunglasses staring back at her, but there was no one there.

"Really Claire you know I'm a more subtle man than that," Wesker said, voice deep and uncaring "I'll let myself in."

"No," she said firmly, moving towards the front door and locking it tight.

"I wasn't asking for permission," he said his voice cold. Claire dropped the phone when the sound of splintering wood suddenly tore through the tense silence. The front door was being ripped apart with great force from the outside. She stepped back slowly before turning and sprinting for her room. Her Beretta was on her bedside table, if she could just make it there she would…

She was interrupted mid thought by a sudden blow to the chest, one that sent her flying into a wall, knocking the wind out of her. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth as she pulled herself to her feet, using the wall for support. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand looking around the room. She pulled a switchblade out of her slipper, cradling it in her hand. It gave her a little more confidence to know she was not completely defenceless but whether a knife would be any use against Albert Wesker remained to be seen.

"Show yourself!" She yelled, surprised by the confidence lacing her voice. As he emerged from the doorway to her room Wesker was all dark Armani and hard lines. She wasn't surprised to see her Beretta in one of his gloved hands and an expensive looking black cell phone in the other. Casually placing the phone in his pocket he took a step towards her. Thinking quickly she threw her knife at his dark form. Wesker moved with inhuman speed, the switchblade hitting the wall where his head had been seconds before.

The next thing she knew she was lying on the ground in a crumpled heap breathing heavily with pain sweeping up her side. A pristinely polished leather clad foot pinned her to the ground. Wesker clicked his tongue, staring down at her as she desperately struggled to escape. She slammed her fist into the ground in frustration before lying still, defeated. She glared at him with as much ferocity as she could muster before realising how exposed she was in this position. Her shirt had been pulled up in the scuffle revealing her bare stomach, her boy shorts leaving little to the imagination. Wesker was silent for a moment as he took in her dishevelled appearance, presumably enjoying the view. He didn't say anything but he must have taken note of the blush that dusted her cheeks and the way her gaze faltered because his smirk grew wider.

"Are you prepared to be civil Miss Redfield?" Wesker asked in a bored tone. She nodded but kept her gaze locked on his face, not wanting to show any sign of weakness. He took his foot off her chest and offered her a hand which she completely ignored. Once back on her feet Wesker let out a dry laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Good girl, that wasn't so hard, was it?" His tone was condescending and it made Claire's blood boil.

"Fuck you," she spat at him.

She felt a sudden pain in her jaw. He had hit her. Hard. She lost her balance and unintentionally gripped onto his arm for support. Her lip was bleeding, she noticed as she assessed the damage. Blood was trickling down her chin but it didn't faze her. In fact it reminded her of their last encounter on Rockfort Island. She was shocked when he pulled off a leather glove and raised his hand. She closed her eyes, readying herself for the force of the blow but instead a bare hand gently cupped her face. Her body tensed as he slid a thumb across her bloody chin, collecting a thin film on the tip. Her eyes widened as he raised his blood stained thumb to his mouth and licked it clean, quirking an eyebrow at her. It reminded her of how dangerous he was - a predator among men, and she was the prey. She pulled away from him defiantly, attempting to distance herself from him and gain some control over the situation. Wesker slammed her against the wall.

"Make no sudden movements and no one gets hurt," He whispered in her ear, his hot breath causing a shiver to run down her spine.

He had the Beretta pressed into her stomach; she could feel the cold weight of the barrel through the thin material of her shirt. That chill also made her uncomfortably aware of how tightly he had pressed himself against her. She could feel his body heat and his breath on her face.

"What do you want?" She hissed, gritting her teeth together tightly.

"Why I want your brother broken, or better dead. It would be easy for me to track him down alone however," Wesker said casually, pulling the Beretta away from her stomach and concealing it within his coat.

"If you think it's so damn easy then what do you need me for?" She spat, glaring at him in what she hoped was a threatening way.

"You underestimate the significance of your role in this Miss Redfield," Wesker replied cryptically.

"You're not making any sense. What the hell does your grudge against Chris have to do with me?" Claire cried, failing to conceal her growing frustration.

Wesker moved his face closer to hers, gripping her forearm tightly. "It has everything to do with you Dear Heart," He hissed. "Your idiot brother has destroyed everything I worked so hard to bring to fruition. All that progress just to end up back at the start," Wesker shook his head before he continued. "That is why I have vowed to destroy everything he loves starting with you, then that bitch Valentine."

They both froze when they heard a noise from outside. Someone was pulling up in the driveway. Wesker growled low in his throat, obviously not pleased by this sudden interruption.

"We'll finish this another time Dear Heart," He whispered. Claire was caught off guard when Wesker pressed his lips against hers in a savage kiss. Before she could pull away or fight back it was over and she was left alone, dazed and relieved as her flatmate Amy swore in shock at the state of the front door.

"Claire, what the hell happened, Oh god, what happened to your face?" Amy cried, finding Claire sitting against a wall bloody and bruised but fully alive.

"It's a long story," Claire said, staring out the window and into the dark.