Chapter Text
Alberta Wesker was possibly the singlemost impressive person he'd ever met.
Thirteen years his senior, by the time she came to S.T.A.R.S., she was more accomplished than he would be in a lifetime. Two independent PhD degrees in virology and biomechanics respectively as well as an engineering degree attained through her service with the Marines, where she'd been a saboteur and a spy. It must have felt like a step down to settle down in Raccoon City, even in a prestigious position such as the Captain of the brand new and illustrious S.T.A.R.S. unit. Even before he knew all of this about her, he knew she had to be a badass because she could cow that sexist asshole Irons by merely turning her attention on him. That was doubly impressive, since she wore blackout shades at all times, and Irons couldn't even be certain she was looking at him.
That blank, black gaze had certainly shut the office up more than once.
Chris had been among the officers that had been recruited based on their former military experience, but the day he was supposed to come in for an interview, he got to see her dress down one of the senior officers she had passed over.
"You're an idiot." She'd snapped, voice icing over the room. "You're a spitroasted pig who wants to play soldier, so caught up in your power trip you've convinced yourself that you're worthy of anything you desire merely because you desire it. The hostility you express to those under your care is exactly what disqualifies you, brandishing your uniform and your gun as though Raccoon should bow at your feet. If it were up to me - and you should be damned thankful it isn't - you wouldn't have a badge let alone an assault rifle. The very reek of the breath you exhale disqualifies you, and it will be in your best interest that it's never pointed in my direction ever again."
He'd been hard-pressed to repress an impressed whistle - sue him, he liked his women strong and bossy - but the absolute freezing stillness in the room, emanating from her rigid posture and placid expression was more than enough to quell the desire to make any noise at all, lest he draw her attention. He'd not escaped her notice, however, because she turned to him as though nothing had ever happened.
"Christopher Redfield, I assume?"
"Yessir."
Her lips twitched in what he hoped was good humour. "I'm Captain Alberta Wesker. Follow me and we'll begin your interview."
He'd not expected her to take him down to the range, but that's exactly what she'd done. She firedrilled him until his arms were sore, then she took him to the gym and commanded him to do increasingly arduous exercises. As much as he groaned under his breath when she told him to run another round of laps, he did as she told him until he physically couldn't. He was drenched in sweat, panting like a dog with shaking legs barely interested in supporting him.
"I can't, Captain." He panted, barely able to breathe. A glance at the clock revealed he'd been with her for the better part of four hours. Good thing this was the only thing he wanted to do today, goddamn. "I can't do anymore right now."
She considered him for a moment. "Follow me to my office."
He managed a nod. "Just- Walk slow? My thighs are on fire."
She did smirk at him this time. "I think I can accommodate that."
She did walk slowly back to her office, three flights of stairs up from the gym. He wanted to die, tripping up on a couple of stairs near the top. He was grateful when she caught him, since they were concrete and he wasn't too keen on meeting them with his face if his arms were too unresponsive. She let him into the office, directing him to a chair he gratefully fell into. He jolted when she handed him two ice cold Gatorades, a protein bar and a bag of orange slices.
"Drink one, eat, then drink the other." She instructed, sitting down on the other side of the desk.
"Thanks." He managed, tearing the seal off the Gatorade and having to stop himself from just chugging it. He didn't want to throw it up, but it felt like he hadn't drunk in weeks. He was into the oranges when she spoke again.
"Do you know what I was looking for, asking you to do all those things?"
He glanced up at her, but she was as impassive as ever. "No, sir."
"Physical resilience and ability can be trained and built upon. But a mindset is much more difficult to influence. What I wanted from you wasn't a demonstration of your physical prowess, but of your willingness to listen and obey. I was also interested in the way you approach your limitations, since it matters that you know what they are and how to deal with reaching them."
He nervously swallowed his orange. "Did I pass?"
"Yes, you did." She leaned forward, opening the other Gatorade for him. "You did everything I said to do, as I said to do it. You were also able to effectively and concisely communicate your limitations while you were at them."
He broke into a grin. "So I got the job?"
"Yes." She sat back in the chair, assessing him again. "Provided you maintain the level of competence you've displayed here."
"I won't disappoint you, Captain."
"Make sure not to." She pulled a stack of forms out from a drawer in her desk, setting them in front of him with a pen. "There's a couch behind you. If you feel the need, take a nap, then read and sign off on the hiring forms. Should you need me, I'll be down in the gym. If you don't recall how to get down there, ask any officer and tell them you work for me."
"Thanks."
She nodded, then stood and left the room.
And that was who she was when he met her.
In action, the impressive resume on her end was very much on display. He may have gawked at her on more than one occasion, since Julian and Barry wouldn't shut up about his 'crush' on their Captain. He insisted he was only appreciating her capability, but that had only resulted in more sniggers and innuendo. Not when Captain Wesker was in the room, mind. The one time Forest from Bravo had had the misfortune to mutter something about how he could understand what Chris found so fascinating about watching her in action, her retribution was immediate and scathing.
"Perhaps time spent scrubbing the grout in the bathroom will convince you to fill the void in your skull with something other than filth." She'd retorted, silencing the room.
"C'mon, Captain." Forest tried. "It was just a joke."
"I was unaware that you consider me a joke." She replied, voice unnervingly calm. "Would the termination of your employment make you reconsider?"
Forest paled. "That's not what I meant-"
"Is it not?" She cocked a challenging eyebrow and he cowed. "The appropriate answer to my original proposal would have been yessir. Do you care to change your answer?"
"Yessir." Forest said immediately. "Yessir."
"Excellent. You're benched for the next month, and I expect all of the facilities to be spotless by the end of it."
He balked, opening his mouth as if to argue, but deflated and ducked his head. "Yessir."
"With any luck, you'll learn to keep your mouth shut."
So, yeah, any teasing about Chris' not-crush on Wesker was kept to when she was definitely out of earshot. Didn't stop it from getting back to her, though.
"I understand there's an element of fascination you have with me." She said matter-of-factly when he sat down across from her.
He flinched as though she'd struck him. "The team certainly seems to think so."
"What actions of yours lead them to these conclusions?"
"They just like to make fun of me. I respect you a lot, and you're so multi-talented, I get awed sometimes watching you work. They like to take it out of context, I guess. I promise, it doesn't interfere in my work."
"I should hope not. You're my second-in-command for Alpha team."
He swallowed. "I know. I wouldn't do that to you - I wasn't kidding when I said I respect you. More than any senior officer I had in the air force."
"Clearly. You haven't been discharged for insubordination here." She smirked. "Yet, anyway."
He grinned back. "Do I look like Forest or Brad? I can keep my mouth closed."
She nodded. "Good. We're on the same page. You're dismissed, Redfield."
"Thank you, Captain."
He wasn't sure at what point his personal relationship with her went from respect and admiration to a simmering heat even she seemed to feel. Maybe it was the one-on-one sparring sessions Irons started them doing, how no one else was skilled enough to keep up with Wesker but him and Julian. He didn't know if her powerful thighs wrapping around his head during those spars, when she got the upper hand were enough to bring them closer together. Maybe it was when he'd have her almost pinned and she'd do some magic with her legs and iron core to twist their situations around, with her sitting on his lower back with her elbow on his neck.
Maybe it was the first time he'd stayed late to do paperwork and walked into her office to drop it off only to realize that she was still there too. Maybe it was seeing the sharp, narrow blue of her eyes that had taken him in. Maybe it happened when he started to stay late just to make sure she actually went home, bringing her coffee and food from the overnight cafe a couple of blocks down. Maybe it was the first time he'd gotten annoyed that she didn't take care of her body better, when she melted under his hands on her shoulders, all of that rigid tension that held her together falling away. Maybe it was the first time he'd had the balls to run his fingers through her long blonde hair and she closed her eyes without thinking about it, leaning back into the touch. Maybe it was all of it, maybe it was none of it. But it wasn't long before the Arklay Mansion Incident that he kissed her for the first time and asked her if she wanted to try, to see if they could be something.
She'd said yes.
| | |
Then they'd been sent on that fateful mission, and Julian had betrayed everything. Alberta had been the one to kill the Tyrant monster that Julian had unleashed, then fled from, and she was the one that dragged his ass out of the flames. She'd been the one to spot the smoke from Raccoon City, and she as the one that put two and two together.
"Where did you learn to hotwire a car?" He asked, still covered in dirt and debris from the explosion and subsequent trek through the woods to reach the highway again.
"Baghdad." She replied flatly, her sunglasses missing and the stress lines between her eyebrows visible.
"Where are we going?"
"Away from Raccoon."
"Don't you think we should be looking for survivors?"
"There won't be any. Not once the government bombs it."
"Bombing?" He sat up. "You think they would?"
"If what happened up the mountain was even a fraction of what's happening in the city, it's entirely lost. They'll bomb it, if not nuke it. Umbrella had a facility under the police station and I'm fairly certain there was another under the Mansion."
"How did you know this?"
"I could the passages." She sighed. "Umbrella was licensed to have a lab in Raccoon, I saw the paperwork. But I'm fairly certain the extent of the labs was not authorized. The connection to the precinct certainly wasn't, but then if Julian were a part of my squad-" She scowled fiercely. "Irons, that fuck."
He jolted; he'd never heard her swear. "Irons?"
"He must have been on their payroll too." She hissed. "He recommended Julian. Fuck. I should have seen it."
"The other recruits?"
"Contacts of mine in the military suggested a few names, like yours. Others I found from surrounding police departments, others were veteran officers. I should have put it together sooner."
"You're way faster than I am." He tried to reassure her. "I didn't even know about the lab, let alone the tunnels."
"I was a spy, Chris." She deadpanned. "I should have known."
"Should you have?" He took one of her hands, white-knuckling the steering wheel. "Isn't one of the perks of being a police officer rather than a military one that you don't have to look over your shoulder?"
"it means I've been neglecting my skills."
"No, it means you're human and you actually felt comfortable."
Those blue eyes could pierce anyone's soul. "I suppose so."
"There's no sense in going over what-ifs right now." He soothed. "What's done is done. Honestly, I don't think there's anything you could have done to prevent this even if you had have known."
"I'm not so certain."
"Let's say you did, then. What would be your first steps?"
"I'd have killed Irons and Valentine." She snapped, slamming her hand into the steering wheel, making him jump at the sudden, vicious action. "I'd have killed them, then lead Alpha and Bravo down into that fucking lab and killed everyone in there, from the scientists to the monsters." She grinned, but it was dark, ugly and hard. "Then, I'd probably got to a high-security federal prison where I'd live until I died."
"And what kind of difference do you think that honestly would have made? You don't think Umbrella would have had a response team for shit like that? That they wouldn't have had replacement scientists and security brought into clean the place long before you got testimony out in court? Do you think they wouldn't have found a way to kill you before that happened?"
"At least I would have done something." She snapped, pulling over onto the side of the dark road. She leaned back in the seat, eyes closed and breathing deeply. "I would have been smarter than to lead my team into a trap. I would have known what I was getting into. I would have saved lives, like I'm supposed to, or at least did my best to try. As it stands now, I've done none of those things. I'm running away from the city I was supposed to protect, with the only member of my team I can be sure is still alive."
"Alberta," He said seriously, turning her head to face him, "You're not responsible for this."
She met his gaze, and it broke his heart. She wasn't crying, because that wasn't something she did, but the resigned despair was something he'd never witnessed on her before. She'd lost, betrayed by someone she'd trusted and accepted - whose life she'd saved on more than one occasion - and it had left its mark on her soul. "It feels like I am."
"I know. But you're not. Everything that's happening here, tonight, that's happened to Raccoon and Arklay County, that's all on Umbrella. Everything they've done has lead to this moment, and you're not at fault for any of that. And you're not at fault for having survived it, either. We can track down Julian, and we can kill him. We might not be able to fix it, but we can take revenge for it. We just have to get somewhere safe, and recover."
She looked back out over the road, took a deep breath, then spoke again. "Your sister lives outside the city, yes?"
"Oh, Claire. Yeah, she does."
"Do you know your way there from here?"
"We're on Highway Twenty, I'm pretty sure. I can get us there. I also have a key to her apartment."
"Then perhaps its best if you take the wheel." She slid out of the car and they traded places.
Once they were back up to speed, he glanced over at her, finding her falling asleep to the soothing motions of the vehicle. She definitely was a soldier - no better place to sleep than transit.
"Do you have any family to call once we get to Claire's?" He asked.
"No." She answered at a sleepy murmur, her customary drawl softened somewhat. "I've been alone since I was sixteen." She paused, thoughtful. "Well, even before that, I suppose. But no, I have no family."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"It merely is, Chris." She murmured. "I'm glad you do."
God, Chris thought, Claire is going to be so upset that I've not mentioned Alberta to her.
Claire always kept some clothes for Chris at her apartment, and he was never more grateful than when they arrived in the small hours of the morning, both caked in grime and in a stolen car. He knew Claire wouldn't have given it a second thought, lending Alberta some clothes (you know, since her house had been nuked), but Alberta was a woman dense with lean muscle who stood six feet tall. Claire was . . . not.
"You can shower first." He offered, handing her a shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his own clothes. "I doubt you'll want to get back into your gear."
"Thank you." She replied mildly. "I'll be quick."
Ten minutes later, Alberta returned to the little spare room Claire kept for him, warm from the heat of the shower and carrying her filthy, but folded, tack gear. So far as he could tell, she wasn't wearing anything but the garments he'd given her. The shirt and pants were baggy, but much less so than if he'd given them to Claire. She looked soft in his clothes, with her wet hair curling around her face and not pushed back by a headset. It framed her face nicely, and he kind of wanted to kiss her.
"There should still be plenty of hot water left for you." She said, putting down her gear on the floor near the door, where her boots were resting.
"Thanks. I won't be long. Settle in - Claire keeps this room for me, so all the stuff in here is mine. Make yourself at home."
By the time he'd finished showering, she'd already crawled into bed, her hair pulled above the pillow, and was fast asleep. He chuckled, drying off his hair a little more, putting his own gear away with hers, then crawling into bed alongside her.
Their relationship wasn't at the point where they'd had sex, even heavy petting. He'd not been to her place, nor her to his, and he'd never once seen her asleep. He was supremely grateful for the opportunity now, despite the circumstances. His only hope was that she didn't mind being cuddled, because he was terrible for doing that to bed partners. Claire had complained about it more than once, and only people who were chronically cold when they slept would share tents with him in the Forces.
It took Claire the better part of two days to return home - she had gone to Raccoon to see him, as a surprise, fuck - but when she did manage to get back, she was safe and sound and whole. And, just as he expected, she was livid that he'd not called her to mention that he was in a relationship.
"Uh, hi." Claire stopped short when she walked into her apartment, finding Alberta - dressed in new clothes she'd bought the day before, dark-wash jeans and a black and white quarter-sleeve shirt - sitting calmly on her couch, reading one of her books.
Alberta stood. "Claire Redfield?"
"Yeah. How did you get in here?"
"Apologies for the intrusion into your home. Your brother brought me here."
"And where would this brother of mine be?"
"He's in the kitchen."
The towering blonde woman guided her back to her kitchen, where Chris was digging through her cupboards looking for a frying pan. She called his name and he smacked his head off the door, recoiling and hissing through his teeth.
"Claire!" He beamed as soon as he laid eyes on her. He rushed over and wrapped her up in a tight hug. "I'm glad you're home. Where've you been?"
"I went to Raccoon City to visit you, because you never call." She hugged him back, taking comfort in his solid muscle.
"You were-" Chris pulled back, immediately checking her over.
"I met a rookie from the RPD, he helped me out. We escaped together before the bombing started. Some government forces found us and got us cleaned up and on our way home. Bad news though; the bike you got me for my birthday is totally trashed."
"I don't give a shit about the bike. I'll buy you a new one. I'm just so thankful you're okay." He hugged her again.
"What about you? The rookie, Leon, was the only cop I could find. Alive, that is. Where the hell were you? You didn't get fired, did you?"
"We were deployed to investigate a private estate in the Arklay Mountains." Alberta replied. "We were in the mansion when Umbrella's labs under the city were compromised, and the firebombing campaign was already underway when we broke the treeline."
Claire pulled back from Chris' arms and pointed at Alberta. "Oh yeah, and who's this?"
"Oh! Claire, this is my Captain - former Captain, I guess - Alberta Wesker. Al, this is my younger sister, Claire."
"Wesker? The hardass?"
"The very same." Alberta inclined her head. "I apologize again for staying uninvited in your home."
"Pfft." Claire waved her off. "Don't worry about it. With the clusterfuck that happened in Raccoon, I'm just surprised all of S.T.A.R.S. isn't here."
Alberta didn't avert her eyes, but her expression fell into a polite mask, her vibrant blue eyes even sharper.
"We don't know how much of S.T.A.R.S. survived, if anyone but us did." Chris said softly.
"Oh shit." Claire's hand slapped over her mouth. "And as their Captain- Piss. I'm so sorry. For my words, and your loss."
"Thank you, but there's no need." Alberta said coolly. "The fault is mine, not yours."
"Al." He sighed.
"You won't change my mind, Chris." She replied.
"O-kay." Claire stepped between them. "How about we get emotional after Chris and I make lunch?"
Alberta bowed out gracefully. "I'll be in the living room."
As soon as the blonde was beyond hearing range (or just out of view, Chris knew Claire didn't care if this conversation was mortifying for him), Claire wheeled around on him. "You never told me Wesker was a fucking Amazonian goddess!"
He frowned. "What?"
"You have no idea how many lesbians I know who would beg to be at the other end of her with a strap-on." Claire threw her hands up in the air. "I mean, she's, what? Six feet tall? Solid shoulders, arms bigger than yours. Those long legs too, and real nice thighs. Not to mention a clean complexion and all that blonde hair."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not a lesbian?"
"Could be. I like dick too, though."
"Eugh, Claire, no, stop."
"What? You've got your squeeze sitting on my couch."
"She's not- Jesus Christ, Claire."
"You can't lie to me." She declared. "You've totally got the hots for her. And I am so upset you didn't tell me."
"It didn't start that long ago." He admitted. "Maybe a couple of weeks back. We haven't done anything other than kiss, and then this happened-" He shook his head. "I don't even know if she'll stick around once she gets all the paperwork sorted out."
"Does she have any family? Any friends?"
"No family, and no friends that I know of."
"She'll be around." She said confidently. "But she's keeping to your room. There's no way I'm sharing with your Amazonian girlfriend."
"You're impossible."
She smiled sweetly, the ass. "My house, my rules."
"This is an apartment."
She punched him.
Alberta did, in fact, stick around. She managed to secure an apartment not too far from Claire's through an old buddy from her army days, one that was both bigger and nicer than Claire's. And she offered to let Chris live with her.
"Uh, yeah. Absolutely." He said, ignoring the sharp elbow Claire gave him. Alberta had only nodded shortly, handing him a key ring, his shiny new apartment key already attached.
That night, after packing up the meagre belongings he'd acquired in the two months since Raccoon City, he'd been dropped off at his new apartment by Claire, who gave him a lascivious wink when he got out of her car. When he got to the apartment, he was floored by all the open space and massive window bays.
"I know you said you got the penthouse, but damn." He whistled as he walked in, dropping his duffel bags by the door.
"I'm glad you like it." Alberta answered, walking out from the kitchen. She was in a loose black shirt and slacks, barefoot, looking untenably soft and in place. God, Claire was right - she really did look like a goddess, highlighted by the warm glow of the setting sun, giving her skin a bronze sheen and making those narrow blue eyes of hers jump off her face like LEDs.
Chris was oh so wonderfully fucked.
| | |
The bay window in the bedroom was on Alberta's side of the bed, and it faced the morning sun. Chris had always wondered if Alberta was, in fact, superhuman, since she was always at the S.T.A.R.S. office hours before everyone else - including the janitor - but she was just one of those psychotic morning people. While it had been arguably the thing he hated most about working under her, he got to appreciate it now in his personal life, and while he'd also thought he'd hate the window waking him in the morning, he'd become very grateful for it in the weeks that had followed.
One of the reasons he was grateful for it was happening on his lap.
The cold dawn light is warming as it crests the horizon, and it ignites the sweat on her skin, casting her bronze hue in flame. The yellow of her hair is burning gold, sticking to her forehead and back, her head tossed back, arms propped up on his thighs. Her fingertips are likely going to leave bruises, since her grip is so strong, but he doesn't care. His own hands have a death grip on her hips, holding on for dear life more than helping or guiding her. She'd found an angle she liked and had been slowly grinding into it since the light first touched the walls of their bedroom.
"Al, dear fucking god-" He bit out, eyes raking over her body.
"Chriiiiiis~" She moaned back, doing some kind of roll with her abdomen that he felt shoot through his dick and up his spine.
Her body was hard and coiled, all lean, strong muscle. Her breasts were small and firm, barely enough to fill his hands, but were terribly sensitive, and he loved to bite a her nipples and make her shudder under him. He could spend hours marking out the scars that littered her body, a surprising amount of bullet hole scars on her abdomen and thighs. Knife lacerations and fragmentation scarring were all over her arms, the palms of her hands visibly roughened and torn up. Surgical scars from having to reset the bones in her fingers were the worst to see, even though they were covered over a lot of the time by the gun calluses. He had some scars, but nowhere near the amount she did.
She'd been uncharacteristically bashful to get naked in his presence the first time, and it had been a joy to get to take her apart, spending hours lavishing her body with all the attention it deserved. She wasn't shy like that anymore, perhaps even more demanding than what he anticipated, As evidenced by the fact that when she felt like it, she'd climb on top of him at the crack of dawn and wake him up with some truly incredible morning sex.
This morning was like that, and he'd become a bit more of a morning person himself.
"Al, Al please-" Her head rolled around enough to peek at him,, pleading below her, then she pushed off his thighs to drape herself over him. Her hands wound into his hair, rolling her body so she pressed her whole chest into his.
Kissing her was like getting devoured, especially in these early morning romps. She was infectious, the hungry way she took control of his mouth, the way her thighs clamped around his hips, those dexterous hands putting him exactly where she wanted him to be and not allowing for any human error, and he wanted to be taken by her. Everything about her was just so perfect, her command infallible, and her strength unparalleled. He could do nothing more than hold onto her, beg her to give him more, more, more - as much as she was willing to.
"I love you." He breathed out when she let him go long enough to leave a trail of bites down the column of his neck. "I love you so much, Alberta."
She slowed down, sitting up enough to meet his gaze. "You're mine, Christopher. I love you, and you're mine."
"All yours." He managed before she crushed her mouth to his again, letting him roll them over and put his body to work.
| | |
The BSAA was a culmination of years of work after Raccoon City that allowed Chris and Alberta to continue to chase Julian. He'd dropped off the map after the Arklay Mansion, and his trail had gone cold. They'd managed to find the location of one of Umbrella's former topmost scientists, Oswell E. Spencer, in a mansion off the Atlantic coast. Getting the warrant hadn't been hard, and the two of them couldn't have been antsier to get on their way.
Only Chris and Alberta had gone in, finding the Spencer Mansion largely abandoned, save for a few staff members who fled from cleaning up the bodies of their coworkers when they arrived. They didn't stop to try and reassure those people, only pressed further into the mansion. At the top of the four-storey building, they found the doors to a gallery-style library, the only room in the house they hadn't yet checked for Spencer.
When they entered the room, they found Julian over Spencer's corpse, and the fight was on.
Something was wrong with Julian - different and unnatural - and he'd been quick to throw Chris aside first. Alberta had more luck holding her own against him, the sheer gap in their technical skill coming to the fore, but Julian threw her across the room too.
"I'm always impressed anew every time we go at it, Captain." Julian smirked, almost at a leer. "It's a shame you chose the wrong partner."
Alberta didn't give him anything, even with her sunglasses knocked off her face, her headset askew. Only her eyes burned with her indignation. Julian chuckled, catching Chris' attack with his knife without any effort. Julian disarmed him, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off his feet, one fist set my his side.
"Let's finish this, hmm?" Julian;s grin was cruel and cold.
"No!"
Chris didn't have time to comprehend it, but suddenly the pressure around his throat was gone and he was buffeted by the winds coming off the ocean through the broken window. His senses took a moment to come back online, with the blood rushing through his ears, but once they did he knew exactly what had happened.
He rushed to the window, leaning over it to try and see, but the two of them were long gone. "ALBERTA!"
It's been three years, nearly to the day, since Alberta had tackled Julian Valentine out of the window of Spencer's mansion. Since his own stupidity has cost him his Captain, his partner . . . the love of his life. And even now, he's the only one that holds out hope she's still alive, even if that means Julian is as well.
Those are the thoughts floating around in his mind when he touches down in Africa, meeting up with the first partner he's taken since she went down.