Story: Zirconia

Disclaimer: This story is purely for entertainment purposes, not profit.

Author Notes: I'm in a Resident Evil/Wesker mood. I only recently caught up with the series (I'd only played through 3 until a few weeks ago). On to warnings: my plans for this fiction make it one that will eventually up the rating to M. Otherwise I hope you enjoy.

Chapter One: Acquit

"If you aren't in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?"

-T.S. Eliot, 1888-1965

The sluggish churn of the clock's second hand continued around the face in its endless task of tracking the boring minutes that I'd been forced to sit in the unappointed room. I knew I shouldn't have taken that bet; this was a waste of my vacation. If I didn't have to deal with getting chewed out by my brother, I could already be out dancing, or drinking, or doing anything that wasn't sitting here waiting for the yelling. It was the old guys fault anyway, he started it.

The perv was the one that told me I'd never beat him in beer pong like I hadn't spent the last year at college. Told me I'd owe him a date if he won; as if I'd go out with an unwashed geriatric that smelled like nicotine and mothballs: Ew. I told him when I beat him, he'd owe me a hundred bucks. Then we'd set up the cups with alcohol and gotten a ball. I was killing it too; I'd knocked out most of his cups and he'd only gotten two of mine. We'd gathered a small crowd and were very clean entertainment for the place. Then, of course, Jill had to come inside. Why had she picked that dive in that part of town. She spotted me after one of the senior's lucky shots while the solo cup was at my lips. I almost spit the liquor out, but I choked it down before she stalked over.

Jill took little time to ruin everyone's fun. I was placed in the back of her squad car shortly after she threatened to close the joint if she ever caught them serving underage again. She didn't arrest me, no, it was worse. She confiscated my fake identification, my keys, and my phone, which would have been bad enough. Then, she had me wait for the raging bear that would rip my head off the moment he slammed the door open. That was twenty-three minutes ago, I'd counted.

At first, I had been on edge, worried I might not live until tomorrow. Now that initial trepidation had passed, I was just bored. Dammit Jill, you clearly wanna jump Chris' bones. Couldn't that have gotten me a pass of some kind? Then, I guess she had not thrown me in jail. I didn't have a record at all, and I didn't really want to change that because of a law that was stupid to begin with. I could be thrown in jail like an adult for drinking, but I couldn't choose what I put in my own body? Hypocrisy at its finest.

Normally, I could be called an upstanding citizen. Not just because of the threat of Chris either. I understood the need for most laws and had no problem following them. I just felt that some were illogical. The Alcohol thing was one. I could sign up to work on the police force or join the military and die for my country, but not have a drink? I knew the science too, that alcohol could affect younger people more than older, but that didn't cut it for me. Lots of countries allowed people to drink when they were legal adults and trusted them to make the right choices for themselves. I never binged; I'd never drank so much I vomited everywhere. Even this time with the pervert was tame, I hadn't started a bar fight! This was just inane.

I was working myself up to all the things I'd say to Chris if he ever arrived, but the fear came crashing back in when the door opened. I expected this to be my last free moment outside my house for the rest of my break. He'd put me under house arrest.

Then a woman was shoved into the room. Her hands were cuffed behind her, showing off the bruising and needle marks along insides of the elbows. She had long stringy blond hair with pink strands and blue eyes sporting dark circles. She had an orange fake-tan completion beneath several fading tattoos of flowers. Her short skirt and tube top left little of her skinny body hidden, a tramp stamp just above her skirt, visible despite the thong. I stood up, not sure how to take the sudden arrival of what I assumed was a real criminal.

"What are you doing here?" The deep voice held a frown that didn't reach the neutral expression. At least what I could see of the face below the dark sunglasses. I recognized the slicked back wheat colored hair of my brother's boss; how did he keep it so perfect while working anyway? Did he own stock in a gel company? He filled out his uniform well, the visible part of his arms below the blue short sleeves quite muscular. I wasn't sure how to answer that, my mouth moving lightly before I snapped it shut. I hadn't expected them to suddenly come in.

"Aw, if you're all full up, you can always let me go." The woman next to him purred, leaning back as if she planned to rub against him. His hand reached up to push her lightly toward the table from the small of her back.

"You come here. You, sit." He stated eyes on me first, then her as he barked directions. The druggy rolled her eyes and walked toward my previous seat. I slipped around the table and followed him into the hall where he pulled the door closed to leave the addict to my previous bored plight.

"Is there a reason you were sitting in one of the interrogation rooms?" He asked, crossing his massive arms in front of the tactical vest that covered his name. "Miss Redfield, isn't it?"

"Yes. That's me." I said, nervously. I didn't really want to tell him what had happened, he probably wouldn't be as generous as Jill had. "I was waiting for my brother."

It wasn't technically a lie.

"There's more to it than that." He saw right through me. His voice serious. He wasn't being aggressive, just matter of fact. "If you need to wait, go do it in my office. I don't need civilians bungling up arrests or investigations. Do I need to escort you?"

"No. I know where it is." I replied lightly. I'd been here a few times with Chris lately.

"Good, I'll expect a better story by the time I've finished booking her." He replied, vanishing into the room before I could answer. I sighed after the door clicked shut. Shit. Why did he even care? Dammit Jill, did you do this on purpose? Is it some sort of intervention garbage? If I keep drinking, I'll start stabbing needles in my arms? I rolled my eyes and turned to walk toward the office area of the station, slowing when I got close. I didn't hear voices which was a good sign, but I heard typing. I came up to the end of the hall, peeking across the large room full of desks, chairs, and computers. I didn't see Jill, but a few desks away Vickers was typing away at some sort of paperwork. I slipped around the corner since his back was to me, moving to the door I knew I'd been asked to wait in.

Jill wasn't here? Had she left me as punishment then? I didn't really see many people on shift in the office. Was putting me in the interrogation room a matter of trying to frighten me into submission instead of getting my brother to commit sororicide? If that was true, I'd appreciate it more if it hadn't ended up like this. I didn't know. She could still be off gathering him to prepare him to assault me. I guess, at least if Chris did come in steaming then Wesker would keep him from any immediate murder.

'Captain Albert Wesker' in clear print was across the door confirmed it was where I needed to go. I'd heard Chris complain enough about his 'hard-ass' boss that I remembered the unique name. I wasn't sure I'd ever heard of the surname before him, though I guess his first name was average.

Passing the threshold to the office I flipped on the light switch to look around. It was on the top floor, which was only the second story, but still had a decent view of main street along the outside of the police compound. It was a decent size as well. Lots of filing cabinets to the left of the door, several awards or metals hung or displayed behind or around the desk. I knew everyone here was special operations, so they probably all had lots of awards. Even Chris had quite a few…but this was double or triple what he had at home. This guy was good, probably why he was a team leader.

I walked in to sit across from the desk in one of the chairs opposite it. Is this where Chris sat when he'd gotten in trouble last week for failing to chase down a perp successfully? Until tonight, that was the last time I'd heard the infamous captain's name. Chris had been quite unhappy and complained a lot about how unfair Wesker was. I knew they didn't really get along. That didn't bode well for him seeing me or asking me to explain why I was here. Just what did I tell him?

I asked Jill to let me in so I could write a paper about police care. No, I didn't have any paper or my phone to take notes. Besides, he could hate media, I knew a lot of cops didn't really have a good relationship with them. Even Chris wasn't a big fan. So then, what? It was a misunderstanding? She thought I was drinking but I wasn't. That wouldn't go over well either. A guy felt me up, so I kicked his ass. More believable unless he followed up with Jill. The door opened and he came inside, time was up.

Shit.

I had to admit, he was nice to look at. The slicked hair and tight shirt reminded me of the time one of the sorority's had paid a few of the football players to dress in costumes and strip. Then, he was a lot older than the other kids at the high school. I didn't know his exact age, because he did look quite good, but I knew it was much older than me. I pinched my leg to chide myself for comparing Chris' boss to stripper jocks.

His footfalls were light considering the heavy boots he wore. His gait strong but smooth as he swept toward his desk to rotate his chair before sitting. Setting papers next to him in an inbox before turning his face toward me. I still couldn't see his eyes, but I knew I'd met them all the same.

"So, care to tell the truth about why you were in my interrogation room?" He asked, amiable as opposed to accusatory.

"I did, I was waiting for Chris." I replied, which was true. Mental alarms going off at the twitch of his lips into half-smirk when I made the remark.

"You are a smart young woman," He commented, leaning back in his chair. "You are well liked by the staff here in the S.T.A.R.S. office. You don't have to be afraid of me."

Says the unfazed intimidating as fuck guy wearing men-in-black glasses. I half wondered if he could pull a small stick from a pocket and wipe my memories. He chuckled lightly at the skepticism that had made its way to face unbidden.

"You seem very nervous, dear heart." He observed. "Did something happen? Did an officer place you in that room for something?"

Fuck, he was good at this. Then, I guess it wasn't a hard conclusion. I let out a sigh, I'd never been very good at lying and Jill had left me ill-equipped for the few stories I might have been able to pull off.

"Jill put me in the room." I said, dropping my eyes to my hands. Realizing I was fiddling with my jeans before folding my fingers into my palms. "She said she was going to get Chris, but I think she just wanted to scare me."

"Why is it Officer Valentine felt the need to improperly use station assets to frighten you?" He pressed.

"Well ah…" I hesitated, a little nervous I might be arrested this time. "I got in trouble, just a little."

"Yes, please continue to offer responses that keep me here well after my shift time." He leaned back toward the desk, moving the mouse so the screen popped up. The bright glow of the monitor reflecting off his glasses as he made a few clicks. "You realize you'll be here until I hear what's going on? Unless you'd prefer, I call in Officer's Valentine and Redfield to explain why you are here."

"No. Don't call Chris." I said immediately, earning his attention back along with a yellow brow that raised over the shades.

"He is your guardian; is there a reason he shouldn't know you are here?" He continued the line of questioning.

"I was at a bar." My shoulders slumped as I admitted it. "Jill saw me. Then she brought me back here and put me in that room. She said she was going to get Chris."

He was quiet at the explanation. Nodding to show he'd heard it, but not commenting immediately. Was that good? Bad? Was he considering throwing me in jail immediately? He typed a few things into his computer, each keystroke feeling like a new bar popping up around me. Then he sat looking at whatever he'd pulled up. I did my best not to fidget but I was nervous so I kept pushing hair from my eyes even when there wasn't hair to push.

"Officer Valentine went home some time ago. She probably clocked out just after putting you in the Interrogation room." Wesker finally stated, apparently done with whatever he'd looked up. "Your brother is out on patrol, so I doubt she told him anything. I haven't received a request from him to come off shift."

Then Jill was just bluffing! I could have gotten up and left instead of sitting there. He'd returned to watching me quietly, the image of professional composure. Was he going to do something? Wasn't he supposed to arrest me or something? Time went by, we just stared at each other. Should I just get up and walk out?

"You are on break from university, yes?" He finally asked. We were just gonna pretend this didn't happen?

"Uh, yes. I'm off for the summer." I replied, still a little nervous about the sudden small talk.

"What are you studying?" He asked, leaning back again. Settling his arms on the chair.

"Pharmacy, I want to specialize in infectious disease." I replied. Most people were usually impressed but not interested in the fact that I wanted to be what a lot of people nicknamed a 'pill doctor'.

"Oh?" He raised a hand, rubbing the stubble of his five o'clock shadow thoughtfully. "A difficult field, I'm surprised I never heard your brother talk about that detail."

"He wanted me to become a dancer." I rolled my eyes.

"Were you good at dancing as well?" He was just having a pleasant conversation. His voice was collected, polite. He didn't seem at all like Chris had implied.

"I was pretty good, but not enough to do it for a living." I answered. "Are we just not gonna talk about how I was in the interrogation room anymore?"

"Is there more to talk about?" He smiled lightly at me, as if my having lost my nerve to just chat was entertaining. "I see no reason to cause you further distress. Officer Valentine discovering you inside a tavern doesn't really stand up to what your brother is working on, I see no reason to disturb him if she didn't."

"Seriously?" This was the hard-ass Chris always complained about. My face showed my surprise without my permission again because he let out a single laugh.

"Yes, Miss. Redfield. Assuming you don't make a habit of waylaying the law, I see no reason to harm your otherwise pristine record." He nodded toward the computer. Is that what he'd been looking up while we talked? "In fact, if you are so bored that you're seeking that sort of entertainment, perhaps I could interest you in a job."

"A job?" I echoed, furrowing my brow at the offer.

"Yes, I need a secretary to aid with things around here for a couple weeks. The woman that normally fills the position is leaving on vacation next week's Tuesday." He replied.

"You didn't already find someone? That's pretty short notice." I had to admit I was curious. It would keep me busy, though I had wanted to just use my break as a break.

"Yes, unfortunately the replacement we had set up had an accident and had to cancel." He stated, as though displeased by the change. "It's not overly difficult. Largely filing, sometimes copying forms or filling in the paperwork digitally. There is a schedule to be kept, but I keep myself appraised of my own appointments. Nothing about it is something you shouldn't be able to handle with what you are managing in college."

Was he buttering me up? He must be desperate for the help if he just plucked me out of possible jail to ask me to help take care of his filing. It sounded very dull though. "I'd want to think…"

"Hey, Wesker!" My brother's voice came from the door. His footsteps echoing on the hardwood as he moved right in after a brief might as well not be a knock. He paused when he saw me there.

"Claire?"

"Chris." I frowned as I looked at him. There was blood on his arm and his uniform was filthy. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. The blood isn't mine." He explained, as if that would make me feel better.

"What are you doing here?" Chris crossed his arms uncomfortably, already starting to enter overprotective mode. His mind clearly jumping to worse case scenarios involving my presence in his boss's office.

"She was applying for the temporary job as my secretary." Wesker didn't miss a beat. He saved me from a very long and uncomfortable explanation about how I'd gotten here. I'd already started panicking. "I was discussing the terms with her when you barged in without permission. I certainly hope that you have something urgent given the lack of decorum."

In an instant his resonant voice had altered from considerate to cold. When he looked to Chris, even face lost the previous vague amusement he'd had with me. It was like a different person crawled to the surface after Chris interrupted us. Okay, well, now at least I saw what my brother meant when it came to Wesker.

"It's important…but it can wait." Chris deflated a little, standing a few feet from the door where he'd stopped upon noticing me. "Are you sure you wanna hire Claire, she should be…"

"Officer Redfield." Wesker interrupted, the chill in his tone enough to drop the room's temperature. "Are you telling me how to do my job?"

"No." Chris stated, I knew he hated being cut off, but he bit his tongue at Wesker's remarks. It was bizarre to watch him not be the Alpha in the room. They stared at each other for several seconds, until Chris finally added. "Sir."

"Good. Go write your report so you can come to me properly next time. I expect you to knock from now on." Wesker waved a hand toward him dismissively. Chris saluted and headed out, shutting the door harder than he needed to. I winced at the way Wesker's neck snapped toward the bang. I'd hear about this later, Chris was probably gonna end up in trouble for that. Pushing aside my brother's temper the captain opened a drawer to dig out a piece of paper, sliding it across the desk to me.

"Here, you'll need to fill this out for appearance's sake."

I reached up to take it, an application form. "Um, I really appreciate your offer. But I don't think I wanna work this summer. I kind of just wanted to spend my break relaxing."

"I'd consider this an alternative than your other pursuits." He pulled a pen from a black cup and set it in front of me. "It isn't the entirety of your break, and it'll give you money to spend for the rest of your time that shouldn't be spent on drinking."

Was he blackmailing me? Would he tell Chris if I didn't sign up? He didn't say that, but he was so difficult to read. He was right that I could use a little money. Then I could buy parts for my motorcycle to work on it. It would be better than me hanging out at dive bars hustling for the funds. I could always put the job on a resume later too…I guess I didn't have much to do.

"Are you afraid of me Miss Redfield?" He asked, as if he found the concept funny. "I wonder just what Officer Redfield has told you. If you insist on not working for me, we'll need to figure out what to tell your brother."

That was a challenge, and now, I was certain a threat. I didn't like either. I frowned at him.

"I'm not afraid of you, Captain Wesker." I retorted, putting the pen to the paper to start filling it out.

In retrospect, I probably should have been terrified of the S.T.A.R.S. leader. I should have fled as quickly as my legs would carry me. I hadn't the feintest idea how this job was going to change my life.

End Chapter

Whee, my brain comes up with too many ideas. If anyone would like to beta for this fic, that'd be cool if they understand I am not writing at all hours of the day and tend to come back and forth to fanfiction when free time allows. Otherwise, feel free to PM me about it and we can talk.

-Aura

To my reviewers:

There aren't any yet, this is chapter one. But thanks for any love. Even little things always make me smile.