Note: It's been about six years but I am back to update this story! Starting with making a few adjustments to the already written chapters.

The snow fell thick and fast. The wind hitting the faces of the man and woman struggling to make their way through the snow and toward the small cabin, offering the smallest hope of shelter against the rising storm. Jake grabbed a handful of Sherry's coat and dragged her much smaller body through the blizzard, finding his own large strides becoming more and more difficult as the ventured higher up. For a moment he felt her stumble and cursed the fragility of the woman, until the memory of the gaping wound in her back slowly stitching itself back together came to mind. This woman was far from fragile, he reminded himself.

"Almost there..." he called over his shoulder, unsure if she could even hear him. He had to hand it to her though, she kept up with his relentless pace right up until he kicked the cabin door open and flung them both inside. "All right," he mumbled to himself, quickly moving to the window to make sure they weren't being followed. The storm was bad enough that their tracks had already been covered. You'd have to be a certain type of crazy to keep searching for them in these conditions. Turning his back to the window he spotted Sherry already kneeling by the disused fireplace.

"The wood here is dry enough to start a fire," she told him, "But I don't have anything to light it."

Jake rummaged inside the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small, silver lighter. "Your lucky day," he smirked, flicking it open so the tiny flame illuminated Sherry's features just enough for him to catch the withering look she shot him. She took the lighter with a half-hearted "thanks" and turned back to the fireplace. Jake paused, watching her attempt to coax a fire in the freezing room. His eyes travelled over her narrow shoulders and fell upon the gaping hole in her jacket, stained red with her blood. His fingers twitched as he felt the urge to reach out and run his hand over the flesh he could see between the torn layers of clothing. Had it not been for the rip in those clothes he would have thought he'd imagined that shard of metal speared in her back. Jake had seen some freaky shit in his time, but this softly spoken blonde haired girl was something else. It made him wonder exactly who she was, who had sent her after him.

The smell of burning wood reached him, startling him from his thoughts as Sherry quickly stood and flipped his lighter shut. "Do you think the light will attract anyone?" she asked, turning to hand back his lighter before having to jump back as her outstretched hand hit him square in the chest. It fell to the ground with a clutter, making Sherry start as she stumbled back until she was dangerously close to standing directly in the fire she'd just started. Jake shook his head slightly, forcing himself not to roll his eyes at her clumsiness. She was shaken up, he could tell. She was greener then he'd thought. Without a word Jake ducked to pick up the fallen trinket and made his way toward the only piece of furniture in the room, a large wooden table covered in deep groves and scratches. He ran his fingers over the surface. "Well this is going to be a long night." he thought idly to himself, aware of Sherry who had begun pacing behind him. The girl needed to relax, he decided.

"So er..." he began lamely, trying to think of what common ground he might share with a newbie American agent. "What was that stuff Redfield mentioned to you, about some city?"

Sherry stopped her pacing, yet he noticed her fingers tighten around her crossed arms as she looked at him with disbelief. "You don't know?"

Jake shook his head, "Should I?"

"Raccoon City... it was the start of all this. There was a major outbreak and a lot of people died. But not before..." Sherry's bright blue eyes darkened as they took on the look of someone haunted. Her gaze fell upon the snow-covered window before she shrugged. "I was just a kid back then. The monsters that attacked us were like something from a nightmare. And my father..."

Jake felt something shift in the air between them as words seemed to fail her. "So much for keeping it lighthearted," he scolded himself silently. Yet he couldn't help but want to know more as she moved closer to the fire, dropping her arms before reaching up to unzip her jacket. Jake's eyes widened a she slid it from her shoulders until he realised her display was not for him, but so she could inspect the damage to her coat. He realised she would never warm up with such a gaping hole in the back of it. He reached into one of the many pockets of his thick overcoat and pulled out a small pouch. Inside was a needle and thread, something he usually carried for stitching his wounds post battle. Not for him to become a makeshift seamstress. Jake exhaled loudly through his nose. Well, first time for everything. Drawing closer to Sherry he momentarily thought he saw her withdraw from his approach. He ignored the thought and took the coat from her grip, eager to have something to pass the time.

"What're you doing?" she asked, confused as he spread it over the table.

"Just give me a minute, okay."

With that he began his work. It kept him occupied for while and he didn't need to force small talk or endure the awkward silence. Sherry moved from the fire to watch as his fingers moved with surprising skill, her own gloved hands wrapped around herself once more as her sweater did little against the cabin's bitter air. She tried to suppress the shivering, but it wasn't long before her limbs back to tremble. The cold would take longer to pose any real danger to her, but she could still feel it. Jake sighed, placing the make-shift needle on the table for a moment before removing his own jacket. He draped it smoothly over Sherry's shoulders, without a word, and turned back to the job at hand, missing the quizzical yet appreciative look Sherry shot him.

"Thanks..." she mumbled, pulling the heavy jacket tighter around herself. It was warm and smelt like him, a strangely intoxicating scent which made her want to curl up and breathe in deeply. Jake grunted nonchalantly. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea. He wasn't being nice. Nice wasn't his thing. He just found her standing so close to him, quivering and shifting from side to side in an attempt to pretend she wasn't cold, annoying.

It didn't take much longer for him to finish his work. It was far from perfect but it was better than nothing. With a self-indulgent smile he lifted the coat with a flourish and held it aloft for Sherry to inspect, his eyes glittering as if to say "ta dah!"

Sherry couldn't help but smile. "Nice work."

"Thank you. Now if you don't mind, it's fucking cold in here," he told her with a nod at his own jacket. Sherry shrugged it off begrudgingly, it was warmer than her own would be and she missed the strange safety its oversized weight gave her almost immediately. Although she did feel bad when she inspected the raised bumps on Jake's exposed arms. Arms that bulged with defined muscle as he swung the jacket around his shoulders and pulled it back on tightly.

"Much better," he told her with a surprisingly warm smile.

"You didn't have to do that for me," Sherry told him, a little embarrassed. She was the one who had been sent to protect him, yet here he was playing nanny and helping her clean up her mess. Jake waved his hand at her remark and shrugged.

"You're no good to me frozen on the side of a mountain."

"Right," Sherry sighed, suddenly remembering the real reason he was here. "You might lose out on your fifty million."

"You're damn straight babe," he told her unflinchingly, perching himself atop the table once again before leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "But we're going to be stuck here for a while longer. Why don't you finish telling me about yourself."

The last five minutes had given Jake a much needed distraction, but they were now back to waiting in silence for the storm to pass. Jake hated silence. He always needed something to occupy his mind. A book... a drink... a woman...

Well, he had one of three options in the room with him. Might as well find out her story.

Sherry almost laughed as Jake eyed her patiently for a response. It was almost like a line from a date. A bad date. "What do you want to know?" she asked coyly, deciding to go along with the ridiculousness of the situation. There wasn't anything better to do, after all.

"What's your star sign?" Jake asked, his face deadly serious. Sherry raised both her eyebrows, her mouth pursed as she watch him, unimpressed. Jake's face broke into a grin. "No? Okay, favourite colour? Flower? Food? How long you been an agent? How many kills you got under your belt?"

"God, Jake..." Sherry suddenly breathed with a shake of her head.

"What? Are you ashamed of what you do, Agent Birkin?" Jake pushed. For some reason he suddenly wanted to press all this girl's buttons, to see what she really had hidden beneath those big blue eyes and girl-next-door charm.

"Of course not," she snapped, "What about you?"

"Me? I'm a Leo"

Sherry stared at him wide-eyed. "Do you think this is funny?"

Jake made a face as if seriously weighing up the situation, rolling his shoulders as he thought. "Kinda... yeah. I mean what else can you do when the shit hits the fan."

With an impatient shake of her head Sherry rolled her eyes and turned her back, making her way back to the fireplace. She could feel her heart begin to beat a little faster than usual, her blood beginning to grow hot in her veins. Did he not realise the seriousness of their situation? People were dying, more would die without his blood. And here they were sitting around with nothing else to do but wait. It was... maddening.

"Hey, come on. Don't go all quiet on me. I was just trying to lighten the mood." Jake drawled from behind her. Sherry let out an exasperated huff and glanced over her shoulder. Jake was smiling at her. No, he was smirking.

"Don't you realise what's happening out there?" she snapped, "And I don't mean on this mountain. I mean out there, in the world. Have you any idea what could happen if this virus gets out of control?"

Jake shrugged, indifferent. "For me, it means I can put my prices up."

His smart remark was enough to have Sherry whip round to face him, her feet moving to close the distance between them as her hand came up, fist clenched, and made contact with the scarred cheek on Jake Muller's face. Jake swore loudly, pushing himself from the table forcing Sherry to stumble back as she realised what she'd done. She hadn't meant to hit him. But the way he just didn't seem to give a damn about anything, not even thousands of people who's lives were at risk. Millions in fact. Sherry forced the shock and horror from her face as Jake looked at her, danger written in every inch of his face as he took one purposeful step forward. It was a move to intimidate, Sherry realised. She stood her ground, lifting her chin in defiance, and held his cold gaze. She'd been trained to fight hand to hand. Jake had strength and size on his side, but she still had her stun rod.

Jake's eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, but it was quickly controlled. He lifted his hand to his aching cheek and felt his lips twitch into a small smile. At least she still had her gloves on, it had dulled the impact. "Didn't think you had it in you, super girl." he told her. Sherry blinked at him.

"You're... not mad?"

Jake snorted. "You think a little jab like that is gonna bother me? It's good to see you've still got some fight in you. You're going to need it."

Sherry shifted her weight from foot to foot as she tried to figure out what he was saying. "So you didn't mean what you just said, about the money?"

Jake contemplated telling her that, yes, he had meant it. Outbreaks usually meant a huge hike in his asking price, and he always turned a good profit. But somehow he didn't think it would go down too well, and now he knew the girl had some spirit he didn't want to risk pushing her any further. She was his key to fifty million dollars after all.

"Nah," he told her dismissively, "I'm not that much of an asshole."

He heard the tired sigh she tried to muffle and chose to ignore it. What did he care if she thought him a hardhearted bastard? He'd been known to be worse. So why had he bothered to lie?

"Look, why don't we get some rest. You sleep first and I'll keep watch," he told her, suddenly tired of talking. He caught the sideways look she gave him, the one that spoke volumes. "What? You think I'm going to take off while you sleep?" he sighed.

Sherry rested her back against the cabin wall and eyed him wearily, unable to keep the disdain from her voice, "I don't think you'd run. You'd never get your money."

Jake froze, feeling a coldness sweep through him at her words. Was she really implying what he thought she was implying. Slowly, purposefully, he stepped toward her until they were toe to toe. He placed one hand against the wall beside her head, the other remaining loose at his side. To her credit, Sherry didn't so much as flinch as his eyes bore into hers. "What exactly are you expecting me to do?" he hissed. Sherry tilted her head to one side as her eyes examined his face. She realised just how young he was now she could see him up close, even if his face was half-hidden by the shadows being cast over his features by the fire.

"Nothing." she told him flatly. "But I have a job to do, and that means not letting you out of my sight. So you can stop the big-tough-mercenary routine and just settle down."

Jake glared. Counting the lingering seconds as he took in every speck of blue in her eyes. He could practically count each of her eyelashes he was so close. "Fine," he sniffed, pulling back. "We need to at least block the door first. Then I'm getting some sleep."

There wasn't much to use, but soon the door and the single window were covered enough that they'd have some warning before anyone tried to get in. True to his word Jake settled down with his back against the wall, close enough to the fire that he could feel its warmth licking at his face and neck. He closed his eyes, gun in hand, and tried to ignore the presence of the other person in the room. He fell into sleep remarkably quickly, but not before his eyes opened for just a second to check on her. To make sure she wasn't the one preparing to pull a gun on him in his sleep. It was an old habit taught from experience.

He caught her sitting with her feet tucked beneath her, a hand rubbing at her shoulder. She must have hurt it, he thought to himself before closing his eyes. Remembering the various falls and collisions he'd been through himself in the last few hours he realised she too was bound to have a few knocks and bruises. Did they heal just as quickly as being damn-near cut in half? He briefly considered asking what was wrong.

"Screw that." he told himself firmly. "Don't get yourself tied up with her. She's doing a job, you're earning yourself a nifty little pay-off. That's all it needs to be."

Jake fell into an uneasy sleep. A voice he knew too well called to him as he tossed and turned, asking him for help, pleading for him to make the pain go away. In his dream he couldn't figure out why the sallow, sunken face of his sick mother kept shifting. Her long red hair growing shorter, lighter. Green eyes became blue and he saw a much younger woman reaching out to him. She was telling him things, saying things about the world... danger... his blood... as they ran from a horde of unseen creatures.

The only phrase he would be able to recall came to him clearly before he woke up. But it was not the voice of the agent sent for his blood that spoke to him, it was his mother.

"Only you can save this world, Jake Muller..."