"So, Wesker," said Chris, leaning into the blonde's personal space. "May I call you Albert?"

"No," said Wesker.

Chris frowned. "Oh." He'd fancied Captain Wesker ever since he'd first seen him in all his blonde, Adonis-like glory the day of his interview at the RPD. He'd been wearing an all leather outfit that had immediately made Chris think of bondage gear (not that he had any experience with such things, no), and therefore he now equated Albert Wesker with sex incarnate.

If only he could see the man shirtless . . .

"You will," said Wesker ominously. "Many, many years from now. Atop a volcano. In Africa."

Chris's eyes lit up like light bulbs. "Where we make passionate love beside the lava, to the rhythm of war drums?"

Wesker shook his head. "Where I grow several tentacles and you and your girl partner try to kill me."

While Chris absently wondered how Wesker would be able to grow tentacles (and if there was any possibility of tentacle rape occurring in the described scenario), Barry and Jill slowly approached the fireplace.

Ignoring the dead, rotting body in the adjoining hallway, they focused on a small drop of blood in front of the hearth.

"Oh my God!" Barry exclaimed, squatting down to get a better look. "What is this?!"

"Blood," Jill said, her eyes widening. "Enough to have maybe come from a paper cut or even—a nosebleed!"

Barry gasped.

The zombie, still clinging to its unlife, moaned, a hideous, chilling sound that would've made any intelligent person scream in terror.

Jill and Barry continued staring at the blood.

"Let's report this to Wesker!" Jill declared, turning on her heels and leaning down slightly so that her mouth was a few inches from his ear. "CAPTAIN WESKER, THERE'S A HUGE POOL OF BLOOD IN YOUR DINING ROOM! THIS OBVIOUSLY MEANS SOMETHING SINISTER IS AT WORK! AND WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE HORRIBLE, PAINFUL DEATHS FOR WHICH THERE ARE NO WORDS!"

His ears ringing and his vision blurring from the sheer volume of her voice, he managed: "There's nothing sinister in this mansion, Jill. Except that Alice woman. And she's gone."

Barry's eyes glazed over as he continued looking fixedly at the blood. "I just hope it's not . . . Chris's blood!"

Chris blinked. "No. I don't think so. I haven't been to that part of the room yet and I don't have any wounds."

Barry looked disheartened. "Oh."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Though, maybe in some alternate dimension, I did bleed there, because I was fatally shot fighting some horrific monster. Or maybe, you and Jill find that blood because you've been chased into the mansion by monsters and heard gunshots coming from the adjoining hall and went to investigate. And all the while I'm being held in a cell as the Captain's love slave!"

"ASHFORDS!! ASHFORDS IN THIS HOUSE?! HOW DARE THEY INVADE MY PRIVATE PROPERTY?! IS THERE NO END TO THEM?!"

The voice was (only slightly) muffled by the double doors leading into the entrance hall; however, soon those doors were slammed open and Sherry and Angela began backing into the room. A man loomed over them, an insane expression on his tired, pale face.

"Tell me, child—are you here to steal my research?! My precious research on my precious, precious G-Virus?!" He pulled a vial of a purple substance out of the pocket of his lab coat and began rubbing it. "My . . . precious . . ."

Angela gulped. "Um, I don't know what a 'G-Virus' is—"

"You're here to steal it!" he shrieked. "For Alexia! That bitch was always trying to sabotage my superior research, and now she's trying to take it for herself! Even death couldn't stop her! But she won't get it! You'll have to pry it from my cold, dead, mutated claws before you take it away from me! I'll turn this whole goddamn city into zombies to protect it, I swear to God—!"

"I don't know any 'Alexia'!" Angela insisted.

"You do! I know you do! No one! No one will take it from me!"

Sherry abruptly lunged forward and backhanded the man, making him stumble into a table and knock an antique typewriter to the floor.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "You know I don't like hitting you, right?"

Sniffling, the man nodded.

"But when you get on your G-Virus tirades," she continued, "I can't help myself. Now, Angela is a friend. Not an enemy. Hell, somewhere in the fifth or sixth dimension, she's my proxy and her daddy is yours. Yeah. So just, chill or something."

The man pouted, muttering something under his breath.

Wesker cleared his throat. "Will, stop imposing your paranoid delusions onto those children and come meet my employees."

A bruise rapidly developing on his cheek, he reluctantly moved forward to stand next to Wesker at the end of the table.

"Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Barry Burton, and Rebecca Chambers, meet William Birkin. My life partner."

Chris's eyes almost popped out of his head. This scrawny, unattractive thing was the reason that Wesker was uninterested?

That was too much to bear, too much. He almost wanted to go home, dig out his Evanescence albums and start cutting again, something he thought he'd beaten with the group therapy.

But no. That would be defeat. And Christopher Redfield was never defeated! Never!

Albert Wesker would be his.

_

_

Author's Note: So, yeah, it's yaoi. Wesker/Birkin and Wesker/Chris, obviously. Though, seriously, don't read too much into it.

And, I just couldn't resist doing a Birkin/Gollum thing, and since I just beat Resident Evil 5 I had to include a referance to my favorite cutscene of all time--shirtless Wesker.

If it's incoherent, that's because it's 11:30 at night, but my very long lasting writer's block just broke.

Oh, and I don't really hate Alice.

Anna