Disclaimer: All characters, places, and creatures in here come from both RE1 and 2 and are property of Capcom. I don�t own them and I never will, though I wish I did sometimes, �cause then I�d be bloody rich. :P

WARNING: Oh, and before I forget, this story�s rated PG-13 for some foul language and maybe some mature themes. Hey, this�s Claire�s POV after all...

Part One
by Sydney Kyle

� � ��*zzzkt*

� � � I glance down at the walkie-talkie propped up on the dashboard, my forehead crinkling. I wish I could turn the damn thing off. But it�s against orders, and besides, Big Bro says either he or Jill�s gonna check in on us anytime now.

� � � Aaaanytime now...

� � � *zzzkkktt*

� � � The radio only spits out more static.

� � � I bang the back of my head against the headrest.

� � � How long is �anytime now�, anyway?! What the hell are he and Jill doing in that damn complex?

� � � I review that last thought and wrinkle my nose. Chris and Jill. Alone in a building. Doing...stuff.

� � � Disgusting.

� � � I stare suspiciously at the radio, half-convinced that any moment now it�s going to crackle to life and unmistakable groaning sounds are gonna fill the inside of this car. And I�m not talking zombie groans. No, I�m talking something way different.

� � � Disgusting.

� � � I�m not some die-hard anti-romantic. I swear I�m not. It�s just that...the idea of...any kind of mushy, squishy, lovey-dovey stuff...you know. It�s...just that. All touchy-feely and kissy-wissy and...ugh. It�s overrated, I tell you. All overrated. I�d rather be in the arms of a groping zombie, with the end of my gun pressed to his peeling forehead and a big smile on my face, than be in the arms of some horny, awkward...boy.

� � � But that�s just me, of course.

� � � I know, I know. Chris and Jill are deep in Umbrella territory right now, and this really wouldn�t be the time to start getting all hot and heavy with each other.

� � � Still, I wouldn�t put that past my big bro.

� � � It�s pretty obvious he�s got it in bad for Jill Valentine. I may be nineteen�a whole six years younger than him�but that doesn�t mean that I can�t tell those things. I mean, I�ve seen the way he looks at her�the way he treats her. Whatever happened to them in that mansion in Raccoon City must�ve really brought them pretty close. Having to put your life in another�s hands has a way of doing that, I suppose.

� � � Jill told me once that Chris had kept his promise to come back for her when she�d been imprisoned in the underground labs near the mansion. In turn, Chris had told me that he had never stopped looking for Jill even though everything pointed to the possibility that she could be dead. It�s kind of sweet in a way. If being teammates on the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team had forced the two of them to trust each other, then that little adventure in that monster-infested mansion only strengthened that trust.

� � � The mansion.

� � � Raccoon City.

� � � The one place everyone pointed to when I asked where my big brother had been seen last.

� � � I drove there, of course. What else was I supposed to do? I wasn�t gonna sit and wait for my big brother to call me and tell me he was all right. I supposed his sudden disappearance had something to do with his work as a S.T.A.R.S. member. I really wasn�t expecting anything out of the ordinary when I stopped by that quiet little Midwest town, bike and all.

� � � Yeah, right.

� � � I went through a couple hours of hell trying to locate some clues to my brother�s location, and in the end, it turned out that he wasn�t even in the damn town. Not even in the damn country.

� � � I finally tracked him down to Europe. He, Jill, Barry, and Rebecca were cooped up in a secret S.T.A.R.S. base in London. They were plotting the downfall of Umbrella.

� � � After hugging my brother to the point of crushing his lungs and spleen, I finally asked him what the hell had he been doing and where he�d been. It was then that he narrated his tale of being trapped in the Umbrella mansion and how his team had been scattered and killed off, one by one.

� � � I became solemn after that. I didn�t know exactly what he�d been through, but I had an idea. After all, I had been through something remarkably similar to it.

� � � You know, I remember Chris saying once that he�d been infinitely lucky to have Jill as his �partner� in that little escapade. Although Jill had been with Barry Burton�a fellow S.T.A.R.S. team member�and big bro had been with Rebecca Chambers�former member of the now-defunct Bravo team�he insists that Jill had been the one who�d carried him through it all.

� � � I thought that was sweet, really.

� � � I told Chris that, and he actually blushed. Imagine that�Mr. Big Bad �I�m-Gonna-Take-Umbrella-Down-So-Hard� Chris Redfield blushed. And mumbled something about not mentioning this to Jill.

� � � Tough luck, bro.

� � � Jill had this funny look on her face when I let the shinola hit the fan, but all she said was �Well, I bet your companion did a pretty good job of carrying you through your experience.�

� � � The way she worded it actually made me shudder.

� � � Companion? Hah! I didn�t need anyone to back me up there, thank you very much. The only thing that carried me through that nightmare was Sherry Birkin, who would have died if I hadn�t been there to protect her.

� � � God, I hope she�s okay back at the S.T.A.R.S. center...

� � � Oh, yeah, where was I? Oh, right...my �companion�.

� � � Jeez. I�d almost forgotten about him.

� � � I crane my neck toward the driver�s seat, where my �companion� is. Hopefully, he�s watching the radio, biting his nails, getting restless, fidgeting in his seat like I am...

� � � Oh, nice. He looks like he�s oblivious to me. Not to mention the rest of the world.

� � � I mean, the guy�s humming. Humming. Like a goddamn 1950�s Max Fleischer cartoon. Not only that, but he�s drumming his fingers on the car door and tapping his boot, his eyes fixed ahead, totally disregardful of my scrutiny of him.

� � � I check the car radio to make sure that it�s off, like Chris instructed. Sure enough, it is. I lift my head up again, and he�s still moving his head to a rhythm I can�t hear. And he�s humming. Still humming.

� � � What the hell is he listening to? I have this crazy impulse to grab him by the ears, peer into them, and make certain that they don�t contain a pair of microscopic earplugs or something.

� � � I regard him thoughtfully. He�s been through the same harrowing thing I�ve been through. He�s even accompanied Sherry and me here to Europe. I suppose I�ve become kind of comfortable with him, although we�ve only known each other for a short time. A vacation in Raccoon City tends to do that to you, you know.

� � � Sometimes I can�t help but feel sorry for the guy. I mean, he goes through a couple grueling years of police academy, and on his first day on the job�shoot. All those cop skills gone to waste. Sad, really.

� � � Well, not to waste. But you know what I mean.

� � � Even he isn�t sure if he�s going to go back to being a police officer. He told me so on the plane. He�s seen too much already. And he doubts whether he has the ability to protect and serve if he decides to remain a member of the police force. Now he thinks that it isn�t enough.

� � � I wonder how he�d feel about joining the S.T.A.R.S.�what�s left of them, anyway.

� � � Even now, he�s wearing something remarkably S.T.A.R.ish�some sort of blue�oh, yeah, his favorite color�combat gear with leather backless gloves. They seem to be a size smaller than he would have wanted�how can he possibly move in that getup? You�d think that he�d be wearing cargo pants or something, instead of those tight dark blue jeans he�s got on. I swear, you can practically see every...

� � � I don�t think it�d do for him to catch me looking at his lower anatomy. I shake my head furiously and glance up.

� � � Dammit, he�s still humming. And tapping. And drumming. And here I am gritting my teeth from pure impatience, twisting around on my passenger seat, and ogling him like a vulture closing in on its prey.

� � � He hums louder.

� � � �Leon, shut up.�

� � � He doesn�t. Now either he�s ignoring me, or he�s still too far in his little dreamworld...or he really has earplugs in his ears.

� � � �Leon, shut up!�

� � � I think I him mumbling some lyrics.

� � � �LEON!�

� � � He whirls around so fast that his hair flies onto his face. �What? What is it?�

� � � I blow a raspberry. I�m irritated now. �What the hell are you listening to?�

� � � He fixes me with a calm stare. �Claire, the car radio�s off,� he points out, matter-of-factly.

� � � D-uh. Thanks for pointing that fact out, Mr. Obvious.

� � � �You were humming something.�

� � � He raises an eyebrow. �And that bothered you?�

� � � He�s cocky, all right. He�s so damn cocky. Definitely a little cockier than he�d been in Raccoon City. I make a mental note to myself to drag him back there for old times� sake, and there I can be the cocky one.

� � � �Hell, yeah, it did!� I retort. �Leon, we�re supposed to be on our guard here! I mean, we�re parked a few blocks away from Umbrella Corporation�s original headquarters and you�re sitting here singing��

� � � �Humming,� he corrects me.

� � � ��humming like a idiot! It�s not bad enough that the wait�s driving me crazy, but you gotta go and do the same thing to me, too?�

� � � His eyes dart around uneasily. Good. He�s nervous, too. I mean, who wouldn�t be? It�s a cold, foggy London night, we�re in a car parked in an alley...well, let�s just say it reminds me of the day we first met. Except, of course, we were in a RC police car and there was a zombie in the back seat...

� � � I glance at the back seat. Just to make sure.

� � � �Okay, fine. I�ll shut up,� he grumbles.

� � � People listen to me, and he�s no exception. Nobody really listens to him. That�s why I tend to boss him around a lot.

� � � I smile in the dark.

� � � After a few minutes of silence, he startles me by clicking open the glove compartment and rummaging through the odds and ends inside. Finally he pulls out what he was looking for�a packet of BubbleYum�and proceeds to extract a paper-covered wad from it.

� � � I gape at him. That�s my gum, I want to yell at him. My gum. Mine.

� � � He tosses the cube-shaped candy into his mouth anyway. My gum or not, I�m not about to go plunging my hand into his mouth to retrieve that saliva-covered piece.

� � � Disgusting.

� � � I turn toward the car window at my side, trying to ignore him. Still, I can�t help but listen to his chewing. Then he makes a blowing sound, followed by a noisy, decisive pop.

� � � I jump at the noise, then swivel around to give him an indignant glare. He�s using his tongue to bring the pink gummy residue that coats his lips back into his mouth. He catches my eye and grins�white teeth flashing in the dimness of the car. Then he blows another bubble.

� � � And pops it. Loudly.

� � � What the hell is the matter with him tonight?

� � � And suddenly it dawns on me. Ada Wong.

� � � Did I mention that he was reunited with her earlier? No? Well, it must�ve slipped my mind...

� � � Oh, well.

� � � I suppose I oughta explain who this Ada woman is. Okay. I�ll try to be as fair and unbiased as possible.

� � � Right.

� � � See, Ada�s this woman�excuse me, this Umbrella SPY�who was sent to retrieve a G-Virus sample from its creator, the recently-deceased�may the bastard rest in peace�William Birkin, who also happened to be Sherry�s father. Anyway, while she was carrying out her little spy game, she ran into Leon back in the Raccoon City Police Station. To make a long story short, she somehow convinced him that she was on the level and all that, and the guy fell for her.

� � � Bad.

� � � I�m talking an I-don�t-care-if-she�s-holding-a-gun-at-me-I-still-think-she�s-hot kind of bad.

� � � Anyway, she must�ve also felt something for him. I mean, she had the chance to get rid of him, being in cahoots with Umbrella and all that, but she didn�t shoot him. Didn�t leave him for dead. And if what Leon had told me was true, then it was partly because of him that she was hurt�why she wasn�t able to escape with us on that train.

� � � All this drama, and they were together�oh, I dunno�three or four hours, maybe? They became pretty close throughout their little escapade in the station. It must�ve been the Raccoon City effect. Like I said, a little R&R in that town tends to do that to you.

� � � Anyway, the guy wasn�t exactly a ray of sunshine when we were on the plane to Europe. He was irritable and cranky and paranoid the entire way�we even got into a spat in the aisle�and once or twice I caught him staring out the plane window with this abandoned-lovesick-puppy-dog look on his face.

� � � I had to stifle the urge to slap him then.

� � � Following clues from Chris�s diary, we finally located the old S.T.A.R.S. base, which was an underground office in London. With Sherry in tow, we arrived at the place and I was able to use my big bro�s ID card to gain access to the sub-basement.

� � � Leon looked even more morose than ever. No big surprise there�the guy was still moping about Miss Wong. You know, he could�ve been a little more excited about it�I mean, Chris was finally within my reach, and acquiring the classified info the S.T.A.R.S. had on Umbrella gave us a real chance of taking the company down once and for all.

� � � But noooo, he decided to sulk. Whatever.

� � � I found Chris there, in one of the ultramodern-looking offices. He was talking to Jill with a file in his hand and his back was to the door. I�ll never forget the expression his face when he turned around to look at me.

� � � Well, it was a really big and emotional reunion-type thing, and after that was over, I called Leon and Sherry in and introduced them to Chris and Jill and Barry and Rebecca. Leon was still sulking, but he was courteous enough to answer the questions the S.T.A.R. members threw at him and me.

� � � And then that was when she walked in.

� � � Now, I�ve never met Ada, but I recognized her the moment she waltzed into that office, little red dress and all.

� � � Well, the look on Leon�s face kind of gave it away.

� � � She was totally oblivious to the newcomers�she had her nose buried in a folder with the Umbrella logo stamped on front, and she was mumbling something to Barry. And then she must�ve realized that there were visitors. She raised her head, took one good look at the room, and the folder dropped from her hands.

� � � I don�t think I have to tell you just who the hell she was staring at.

� � � So she and Leon just stared at each other from across the room, while Barry and Jill and Chris and Rebecca had this �did we miss something?� look on their faces and Sherry�s eyes were wide as saucers. Then this huge, billion-megawatt smile that I�ve never seen on Leon before lights up his face, and, miracle of miracles, this Ada person smiles at him too.

� � � They stood there grinning like a couple of idiots, not even bothering to approach each other and hug like normal people, and it took some heavy-duty throat-clearing from Barry and Chris to snap them both out of their little trance. Then Chris explained to him that Ada had been the one to contact them a week ago. She�d told him that she was a former employee of Umbrella, and now she was determined to help close it down after seeing just what kind of research the company was funding.

� � � Come to think of it, Leon didn�t really seem all that surprised to see that she was alive. The two of them didn�t really say much to each other throughout the rest of the night.

� � � The next morning, though, when Leon came down to the S.T.A.R. HQ, he was grinning even more stupidly than before. It didn�t take much to guess that he�d spent quite some time with Ada.

� � � I purposely gibed him about this before the briefing, but it did no good. He just grinned at me and ruffled my ponytail.

� � � No one, and I mean NO ONE, ruffles my ponytail.

� � � But for some reason, I decided to let him live.

� � � Anyway, when everyone was present�including Ada, who had this little Mona Lisa/Cheshire cat smile on her face�Chris outlined his plan for tonight. He felt that the time was right to retrieve some valuable data from the old Umbrella building in downtown London, which had been converted into a gaudy-looking condo/hotel called �The Umbrella�. Figures.

� � � Well, the plan went like this: Rebecca would take care of Sherry back at the HQ, while Chris, Jill, Ada, and Barry would infiltrate the building. Me and Leon, however, were appointed as their �backup�.

� � � And no matter how much I protested, my big bro would insist that this was just a simple �search-and-retrieve� sort of operation, and he wasn�t about to let his baby sister into that sort of thing. Not even if his baby sister managed to fight her way out alive in a TOWN full of mutated creatures, while all he had to go through was a HOUSE full of mutated creatures.

� � � Which explains why I�m sitting here in a car with Mr. Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy-BubbleYum man, squirming in my seat and listening to static while he hums.

� � � Humming. Dammit, he�s humming again.

� � � �Hey, Leon.� I shift my legs in the tiny space of the passenger seat.

� � � He doesn�t glance at me. �Yeah?�

� � � �You know she�s a spy.�

� � � That makes him turn. �Former spy,� he says. There is a touch of sharpness in his tone.

� � � �Yeah. Former. I know.� I cough. �Leon, I�how did you know that she could be trusted?�

� � � He waves his hand, an impatient gesture. �Claire, we�ve been over this. I do trust her. I know who she used to be. She�s not that person anymore, and that�s all there is to it.�

� � � I stick out my bottom lip. I�m being petulant about this. It�s crazy. I didn�t really care what the hell he was doing when he was running around that station�as long as he stayed alive. I couldn�t stand the thought of being the only real live person in that place.

� � � Now I�m very interested in what he was doing when I was chasing after Sherry and blowing away the walking and crawling dead. And I seriously hope that he wasn�t spending his sweet time playing licker with Ada.

� � � It would, to put it nicely, bug me.

� � � I hear a pop beside me, and I don�t even have to turn my head to know that Leon�s filled with good cheer again. I exhale in half-disguised frustration and sink back in my seat.

� � � He�s happy as hell and I�m miserable, and I resent him for it. I don�t know how to explain it. It�s complicated.

� � � Don�t get me wrong, though�I�m glad for Leon. I really am. I�m glad that he�s been reunited with his one true love or whatever. I understand that it�s only natural for him to be on Cloud Nine. I just wish that he�d chosen a better time to be high on the happiness drug�like, say, when Umbrella�s fallen and this is all over. For now, I want him concentrating on the mission at hand instead of the Wong woman.

� � � Hahaha. Claire Redfield made a funny. The �Wong woman�. I kill myself. I should be on a Las Vegas stage doing stand-up comedy and�

� � � �Come in, Claire and Leon. This is Chris. Do you copy? Over.�

� � � I snap out of my reverie and dive for the radio, but Leon gets it first.

� � � �Yeah, Chris, we copy. Over,� he says into the receiver with all the finesse of a trained would-be cop.

� � � �Is Claire with you? Over.�

� � � Never underestimate the protectiveness of big brothers.

� � � I bend toward the radio. Leon grunts as I lean on his arm. I like the sound, so I lean harder. He glares at me.

� � � I�m smirking as speak into the receiver. �Where else would I be, big bro?�

� � � Chris�s soft chuckle filters across the line. �Just checking, Claire.�

� � � I feel a grin twitch my lips. No doubt he�s been worried about me following him into the building. I did make a scene about staying behind.

� � � �Well, I just wanted you to know that everything�s been coming along fine. You guys won�t believe what we found�*zzzkttt*�

� � � Static.

� � � �Chris?� I say into the receiver.

� � � *Zzzzkkkkt*

� � � Still static.

� � � I raise my voice. �Chris?�

� � � �Heads up, Claire.�

� � � Leon says this so calmly, so quietly, that I don�t know what to think as I watch him slowly pull his gun�his trusty H&K VP70 9mm Automatic, no less�from his hip holster.

� � � �Leon...?�

� � � He brings his finger to his lips, shushing me. All the while, his eyes are peering over the side of the headrest, as if straining to see something...

� � � I don�t understand at first. But everything melts together into horrifying clarity as I hear a familiar hissing noise drifting out from the alley behind us.

� � � �Heaaaauurrrgghhhhh...� Click, click, click.

� � � No way. It can�t be. Not here.

� � � �Hhheaaaurrgghhh...� Click, click, click.

� � � Shit.

� � � I fumble for the Beretta in the glove compartment. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Leon getting out of the driver�s seat, thumbing the safety of his gun.

� � � Part of me wants to yell at him. Part of me wants to know just what the hell he thinks he�s doing. Part of me wants tell him that it�s safer inside the car.

� � � But I don�t say anything.

� � � If there�s anything that little stroll through Raccoon City had taught me, it�s that there�s no place that�s safe. At least outside in the alley, we have the option of fleeing from whatever there was out there, instead of being trapped inside a car with nowhere to run.

� � � I stumble out of the car, my finger already positioning itself near the trigger. I glance across the car roof. Leon�s gaze is locked on the alley ahead. I watch, mesmerized, as he pulls what seems to be a Magnum from the bottom of the driver�s seat. He then tucks it into the waistband of his jeans, letting it rest against the small of his back. Not the sanest place to put a loaded gun, but who was I to ask? Maybe it�s a guy thing.

� � � He straightens up and snaps his gum�loudly, I might add�but I can almost see the HappyLeon facade melting away as his cop instincts take over.

� � � Somehow, that makes me feel a little better, though of course I�d never admit that to him.

� � � I look off toward the shadowy alleyway. It almost looks like those back streets at home�huge, puke-green garbage bins, some tipped-over cans, and quite a bit of litter scattered about. Some crumpled-up pieces of paper and cigarette boxes dance past my feet as a wind starts up. Aside from that, the alley�s practically bare�from what I can see, anyway.

� � � I can�t hear anything now. No hiss, no rattle. Nothing.

� � � And yet...

� � � There.

� � � Something...skittering. Melting into the shadows, just a little past the garbage bins lined up against the wall. It�s moving with a smooth, snakelike fluidity�like a lizard.

� � � Or a licker.

� � � I take a step forward, squinting into the blackness. Dammit, why didn�t we pack a flashlight before we left?

� � � �Hhhrrreaauurrrgghhhhh...�

�� � � �I whip up my gun. Images of lickers leaping at me in the hallways of the Raccoon City Police Department flash through my mind. I bite my lip as I load�the Beretta.

� � � Click, click, click.

� � � Bastards.

� � � �Hhhhaaaaugggh...�

� � � �Haaaarrrggghhh...�

� � � Click, click, click, click, click.

� � � How many are there? Two? Three? Four? How many can I possibly take on?

� � � I swallow hard.

� � � The sudden sound of running footsteps echoing throughout the alley takes me by surprise�until I realize that they�re my own.

� � � �Claire!�

� � � It�s Leon calling me. Weird. He sounds like he�s yelling at me from across a chasm. So far away...

� � � There. I hear them hissing just a little further up the alley.

� � � God, I want to kill them. Keep them from going on a murdering spree. Keep them from slaying innocent bystanders, just like they�d slain those cops back in that godforsaken police station. God, what about Chris? And Jill? What if those...things had gotten to them already?

� � � �Claire, wait!�

� � � Leon.

� � � I don�t know how many times I�ve hung up on him while he�s shouting those same words. It would almost be funny if the situation weren�t so serious.

� � � �Claire, wait! Wait!�

� � � I ignore him, of course. I always do.� � � �

End of Part One

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