This has been rewritten slightly, so bare with me. This whole story takes place slightly after RE 4

He wasn't anything but a dear friend and ally to her until right at that moment, and it should not have bothered her at all. The whole awkwardness of it all still made it hard to shallow though; the pieces just didn't add up...and she feared...that they never would.

She shook the thought away. Of course a moment like that was awkward and strange, but it couldn't be helped on how wierd and out of the blue what he said was! So it was completely piontless to think about it.

"No more worries!" she said aloud to herself.

Claire quickly went quiet and looked towards the door, expecting at any moment that someone was going to walk in on her talking to herself. Thankfully, all was silent. She sighed with relief and kick herself mentally for being so careless.

"Oh my god, I have to stop talking to myself."

She got up from the desk chair where she had lounged in deep thought for the past hour and climbed into bed. The down pillow felt good under her hot face. She pulled the soft, cotton sheets (but not the comforter) around herself, turned off the side table lamp, and began to drift off.

Even though the summer heat wave was outside her window, somehow it found a way into the bedroom to smother her, leaving Claire no choice but to throw all the blankets to the floor. She still felt the stickiness of sweat running down her back and turned over so that she was staring at the ceiling. The small breeze from the cheap Lowe's ceiling fan did nothing to stifle the humid air surrounding her bed.

The hot night reminded her of her more youthful days as a member of the Underground that put an end to Umbrella. She remembered the intensity of each moment she spent running for her life in the sewers of Raccoon City with a tiny child at her heals and the frigid temperatures of Antarctica, of all places, where she fought for survival against a mad heiress plotting for global domination.

Before Raccoon City, she had been a struggling college student who just happened to love motorcycles, but now, she was a seasoned ex-Underground operative working as a secretary for humble pay and without all the excitement. The pay was good, and she still got to see her brother now and again, so she never questioned her fated path in life. Afterall, the secretary job was Chris's (her brother's) idea.

Still, the loneliness got to her sometimes.

But she was strong, a good friend once said, and she knew that somehow, she would conquer her anxiety for another person. There is a old saying that states 'Where there's a will, there's a way'. The only problem was: Did she still have that will to 'survive' anymore? Was that fire that attracted everyone to her in dire situations burnt out?

Claire bit her lower lip. She didn't want to think that being twenty-five had caused her to lose any of her old pazaz. It's not like a person's attributes vanish with every birthday, right? Of course not.

Besides, it wasn't like she was old, not yet anyway. So she could still date, go to night clubs, and live a fun-filled life. Yeah, and who, in their right mind, wants to get married at twenty-six? Claire shuddered at the thought like she was six years old and kissing boys was gross.

She rolled over onto her side and read the clock:

1:35.

"Will I ever get to sleep? God, I gave to be somewhere tomorrow, and now I'm gonna be tired all damn day!"

Claire closed her eyes hard in a vain effort to make herself sleep, but she didn't konk out until two hours later.