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Claire nearly kicked the ladies’ bathroom door off its hinges as she stormed inside. She gripped the marble sink as she stared into the mirror, her nails scraping at the surface. Looking back at her was a red-haired woman with tears of frustration welling up in her eyes, threatening to make her mascara run down like cracks in a bowl. Her face nearly matched the color of her hair as she stared daggers into the reflection.
“Those fuckers!” she managed to choke out as she held concentration with her eyes.
About thirty minutes prior, Claire had given an investment pitch to a room full of investors for Terrasave. Being a senior member with 5 years put in at the company, the higher ups at Terrasave let Claire spearhead this particular meeting, as not only was she a trusted member, but the company also had its hands full with humanitarian efforts throughout the country, still picking up the pieces that Raccoon City left behind.
Admittedly, stuff like this wasn’t Claire’s forte. She would rather be on the ground helping people rather than trying to appease to the “morals” of rich men in suits. But the reality of relieving the negative impacts of bioterrorism was that it required money; lots of it, more than a non-profit organization could muster by themselves.
So, Claire did the research, called in every favor she had to gather just a few of the state’s wealthiest men into one room for a mere thirty-minute pitch meeting. The investors she had chosen were ones that had a history of investing money into non-profits. Not for entirely moral reasons, she deduced rather quickly; just something that made them look good to the public and gave them elbow-rubbing charity balls to attend to. Still, they had money, lots of it, so regardless of the morality of these investors, she had to give it a try; for Terrasave, and every other resident of Raccoon City who didn’t make it out of there alive that day.
The presentation was the most laborious part. Bioterrorism was a hot button political topic, and she knew she had to craft an argument for Terrasave that could appeal to even a rich person’s pathos. During the meeting itself, Claire cited dozens of reputable research articles and scholars, and gave various personal accounts of the victims of bioterrorism around the world. She poured herself into the presentation, even with a beating, anxious heart in her chest.
The investors, all men, refused to take her seriously.
Before the presentation even began, Claire was familiar with the looks in their eyes. They never saw her as a legitimate authority on the subject; they only saw her as a loud, outspoken little girl. Hell, one of them had even called her “sweetie” when she introduced herself to them before the meeting.
Fucking sweetie.
As if that wasn’t enough, the group of about ten men never looked even remotely interested in her presentation, sharing whispers and suppressed laughter throughout the meeting. The final straw was when Claire answered one of their questions by incorrectly quoting a statistic. A small mistake that she immediately corrected, but it was one that the investors didn’t let her forget with their laughter and demeaning language.
Claire’s nails continued to scrape up the outer bowl of the sink. “I work my ass off, doll myself up, bend over backwards for these motherfuckers, and this is what I get in return?!” She yelled into the mirror. She hadn’t checked to see if someone was using a stall, but if they were, then they were enjoying a hell of a show.
Claire closed her eyes and looked down, gently sobbing for a few minutes, overpriced makeup running down her face. As she mourned about the failure of her pitch, that sadness slowly turned into something else. She gazed back into the mirror, scowling at herself. Something else was overwhelming her senses now.
Claire Redfield was filled with rage.
She punched the mirror with full force. Her reflection shattered into a million glass pieces. She slowly removed her fist from the mirror, revealing the origin point of the cracks. As her hand bled, she stared at her scattered image. She washed off her hand and entered a stall behind her, carrying a backpack with her.
Claire quickly changed out of her business suit. She grimaced as she looked at the clothes she had picked out. She had spent hours agonizing over the right outfit to wear for this, something that would effortlessly communicate that she was serious about what she was talking about. Countless shopping trips with Jill and Rebecca, countless return trips to changing rooms when a skirt was just too long or short.
All for fucking nothing, she thought.
After discarding the outfit into the backpack, she opened the bag’s second compartment. Inside, she found clothing that suited her much better. Her classic red jacket that, a gift from her brother. Blue jeans that were slightly ripped in some areas, mostly from years of wear and tear than as an actual fashion statement. And finally, a bike helmet that had always protected her from all the nonsense the world threw at her.
She swiftly changed into the outfit, finding sweet, nostalgic familiarity in it. THIS is who she was, she thought. Yeah, she wanted to make sure corporations like Umbrella could never get away with atrocities like Raccoon City ever again, and these meetings were a necessary evil to achieve that goal. But she’d be damned if the world was ever gonna take away the part of her that longed to let loose down the road at double the speed limit, without a care in the world except for getting to her destination and looking damn good while doing it.
Once she fully changed, Claire zipped up the backpack and exited the stall. She looked into a different mirror, smirking confidently. Yeah, this suited her better. A pang of guilt entered her stomach as she looked at the mirror she had destroyed earlier. But then she remembered the face of the man who owned this building, and thus, who would be paying for it.
Yeah, he can deal with it," she thought as she swiftly left the bathroom, and not long after that, the building itself.
Claire jumped onto her bike and put on her helmet, fastening it with practiced efficiency. She then dug her keys out of her pocket and felt the engine roar to life under her. The motorcycle now reflected her raging soul; hot, loud, and ready to let loose out on the open road. She spun out of the parking lot at a dangerous speed, mentally spitting on the building before speeding far out of sight.
Claire attacked the sharp turns and long highways with expert precision. Though she was incredibly angry, she knew that it wouldn’t be fair to put the safety of other innocent drivers at risk just because of that. She drove fast, but carefully, the flow state of calculating how fast she could go while expertly avoiding traffic safely being something she could akin to a sort of nirvana.
As she took the exit, she remembered something.
Right. Jill asked for milk.
She pulled into the parking lot of a familiar dollar store. It was about twenty minutes before they closed. She barely even remembered going into the store; just beelined for the dairy section, grabbed the gallon, paid for it at a register, and got out. She walked back up to her bike, hanging the grocery bag on one of the handles. She reached for her helmet.
“Damn, girl! You’re gettin’ me damn excited in those tight jeans!”
Claire’s ears pricked up at the grating voice saturated with a southern drawl. She turned around and saw a group of four men turning the corner out from behind the store. A few wore jackets, some wore basic t-shirts. All of them were bald, for some reason. Weird fashion statement, she thought.
She scoffed and turned around. As a woman, she was no stranger to getting cat called. Just ignore them and go home, she thought.
“Hey! You fuckin’ deaf? Said you got a nice ass, girly!” The voice spoke up again, now much closer to her. She turned to face them again, the group of four men now just a few feet away from her. They all wore wide, toothy grins.
“Thanks, and you idiots have nice hair,” she said plainly as she began to turn back around.
“Fuck you sayin’?!” said the group leader, clearly striking a nerve. “That’s it, you’re fuckin’ dead, bitch!” She could hear the familiar sound of switchblades being activated, causing her to freeze, finally registering these men as something of a threat.
She faced them again. “Really? In front of a dollar store that’s still open? How do you think that’s gonna end for you?”
“With your pretty little corpse in the back of m’truck,” said the group leader, grinning even wider.
Claire sighed. But in her annoyance, she found an opportunity. She had plenty of steam to burn off, and well, these bozos seemed like a good place to start. Claire cracked her knuckles.
“Alright. Come and get it while it’s hot, boys.”
The group leader lunged at her, attempting to stab her in the abdomen. Claire simply stepped to the side, incredibly used to avoiding men that wished her harm. As the leader stabbed into the air, Claire brought her elbow down onto the back of his head. The impact felt like a sledgehammer to the skull to the man as he fell to the ground, hitting his head on Claire’s bike as well.
She heard another man charge at her from behind. Taking a gamble that the man was right-handed, she turned around and grabbed his wrist, and she was right. She twisted the man’s wrist in the opposite direction, the knife falling out of his hand as he cried out in pain. Claire used her free hand to uppercut him, sending him flying backwards, his head cracking against the concrete. She turned around to face the other two men.
The men, looking at each other and shaking their heads, discarded their knives and held up their fists. They both charged at her. Claire chose the man on the left as her target as she punched him square in the jaw, hearing a tooth hit the ground after the impact. Instinctively, she dodged the attack from the man on the right, kicking him square in the groin.
The two men reeled from the pain, which Claire used as an opportunity to back up a few feet. The man on the right screamed in anger. “That’s it! You’re fuckin’ dead, bitch!” Claire’s eyes widened as he pulled out a pistol that must have been hanging on the back of his belt. Keeping her cool, she immediately closed the distance between the two of them before he even had a chance to place his finger on the trigger.
She promptly kicked him in the stomach, grabbing the pistol from his limp hand. Hearing the other man charge at her once again, she grabbed the barrel of the pistol and whipped him across the face with the weapon, hearing another tooth hit the ground, and the man joined its place on the ground soon after. She delivered a swift kick to the face of the man who once had the gun, and he fell to the ground as well.
Claire caught her breath, adrenaline coursing through her. Once she could speak again, she whipped out her cell phone and called 911, reporting four men fighting each other in front of a dollar store. She put the phone on hold as one man tried to rise back up onto his legs. She kicked him in the chest and then finished the call.
Claire opened the back compartment of her bike and placed the gallon of milk inside. She grabbed a spare gun holster and attached it to her belt, inserting her newly acquired gun into it. Better this stays with me than with them, she said. She also didn’t love the prospect of a weapon with her fingerprints on it being left here.
She looked down at the men as she fastened her helmet. “Thanks for the workout. Now go rot in a prison cell.”
Her bike engine roared to life once again, and she was gone.
--
As Claire soared down the road to Jill’s apartment, she could feel her knuckles still slightly bruised. She almost wished the guys were a little tougher—had some bulletproof armor or something. She really needed a better workout than that, especially after...
All of a sudden, the scene replayed in her mind. Old men laughing, the condescending looks, the “sweeties...”
Her hands gripped the handlebars so hard she felt like she could rip them off. If she wasn’t wearing her gloves, her nails certainly would have sunk deep into her skin.
The speedometer needle crept uncomfortably high. 100.
Those fucking bastards.
110.
Never fucking again.
120.
Even for Claire, this was an alarming speed. As much as she loved riding her bike, she never wanted to put others at risk. But tonight, the highway was clear, save for the occasional big rig she could easily pass. The road was going to feel her burn rubber all over it, and she gained a great sense of pleasure imagining running over the men in suits at this ludicrous speed.
She winced, tears starting to well up. All those nights preparing, researching, practicing her speech to Jill--
Jill.
As Jill’s face appeared in her mind, her heartbeat began to slow down, as did her bike.
As mad as she could get, she knew that she was coming home to her. Jill promised she would wait up for her, and she hasn’t broken a promise once so far, unlike so many other people in her life. The promise was especially meaningful given the long hours that Jill was forced to put in at the BSAA as the company’s co-founder. As stretched thin as she often was, she always made time for Claire.
Claire smiled under her helmet. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have her. Being able to come home to a smile, a hug and--
She clenched.
The normal, warm images of Jill in her mind that calmed her heart down began to be replaced with images of toned abs, biceps, perfect breasts and hands that knew her in and out.
Under her helmet, she bit her lip, Hard. She tasted blood.
She imagined all the things that would be possible once she finally returned home. She grinded against the seat of the motorcycle, feeling her arousal grow as she thought of Jill.
Her heartbeat shot back up. So did her speedometer.
--
Jill licked some excess vanilla frosting off her finger as she put the finishing touches on the cake. She stood back and put her hands on her hips, analyzing her creation. It was a medium-sized, round vanilla white cake, with sliced strawberries placed on the sides. In the middle, drawn in frosting, was a heart with the name “Claire” placed in the middle of it.
It wasn’t anything as fancy as Claire truly deserved, Jill thought. She felt a bit embarrassed. This wasn’t a homemade cake; just one of those cheap ones you get the mixing powder out of a box from the store. They had bought this one about a month ago to mutually indulge in whenever the mood struck them. Since they were out of milk, this was the best that Jill could do on a whim.
Though it wasn’t fancy, she wanted to do something nice for her girlfriend. Claire had been stressing out about that presentation for months. She remembered countless nights of the redhead pulling her hair out as she wrote and rewrote her speech over and over again, reciting it to both herself and Jill until she was blue in the face.
And soon, it would finally be over. Sure, Claire’s ambitions were much bigger than just a fundraising pitch, but for a time, she could relax. So, Jill wanted her to come home to something nice like this. She smiled as she thought about seeing Claire again.
Jill carefully picked up the plate that the cake sat on, using her foot to open the fridge door. She slowly laid the cake on one of the shelves and then closed the door. As she did so, she heard keys begin to unlock the front door. She inhaled and smiled. Just in time.
Jill leaned against the kitchen counter as Claire entered the apartment, a gallon of milk in one hand and her bike helmet in the other. She laid her helmet on a small table next to the door as always.
“Hey, babe. Thanks for remembering the milk,” Jill said as Claire put the milk down on the counter, with a bit more force than she was expecting. She raised an eyebrow. “Um... so, how was the--”
Before she could finish her sentence, Claire grabbed Jill by the shoulders and pulled her in for a searing kiss.
Jill’s eyes shot wide open, but when she felt Claire’s tongue against her lips, they lowered as she let a low moan escape her mouth. She opened her mouth for Claire as she kissed back just as passionately.
It didn’t feel as much like Claire was trying to kiss her and more like she was trying to swallow her mouth whole, but fuck it, Jill wasn’t above something like this. Her eyes shot back open as Claire’s hands met Jill’s ass, giving it a squeeze before going even lower, her hands squeezing Jill’s thighs as she picked her up with surprising strength and plopped her onto the kitchen counter, continuing to kiss her.
Jill pulled from the kiss, and Claire began to kiss and lick her neck, biting her in that little spot between her shoulder and her neck that she recently discovered drove Jill crazy. Jill threw her head back in pleasure.
“Holy shit...” Jill exhaled, letting out another moan. She giggled slightly. “That bad, huh?”
Claire gave a slight nod as she licked the bite mark.
Jill giggled. “Alright, no worries. Tonight, I’ll take care of--”
Claire slammed her hands on the table.
“No fucking talking,” Claire growled as she sunk her teeth into Jill’s neck.
Jill’s eyes shot open once again, getting lost in the sudden jolt of pain and the anger in Claire’s voice.
This... was different.
“Excuse me?” Jill said in a lowered tone of voice, the kind she usually spoke in when Claire was being especially bratty in bed or was trying to make her melt.
Claire brought a hand to Jill’s face and squeezed her chin and face. “You heard me,” she said in a growl that Jill hadn’t heard before. She kissed Jill sloppily once again, this time biting down on her tongue as a form of reprimand.
Jill’s core heated up, Oh, fuck.
Oh, she loves this.
But she wasn’t about to let her know that. Or get away with this.
Jill mounted a counterattack. “Excuse me, Redfield,” she said, hopping off the counter and backing Claire up against the wall, her voice even deeper now. “I do believe you’re out of line.”
She brought a finger to Claire’s chin and let it trace down her torso. She looked down at Claire with the kind of eyes that she used to make Claire melt on the spot.
“I might forgive you if--”
Suddenly, Claire grabbed both of Jill’s wrists and spun around, slamming Jill up against the wall. Jill winced. She wasn’t injured, but it certainly didn’t feel pleasant. Then, she saw Claire’s expression, dark and demanding.
Ok, yeah, now it felt pretty good.
Claire growled as she caught Jill’s shoulder strap with her teeth, dragging it to the side, repeating the process for so that her tank top fell downwards, revealing Jill’s bra. She brought her hands behind Jill, making short work of the bra strap as she let it fall to the floor.
Claire kneaded Jill’s breasts in her hands, fondling them like fresh prey. She popped her right nipple into her mouth, her tongue swirling the soft and hot flesh. Jill’s head hit the wall behind her as she threw her head back from the sensation.
“Ohhh fuck, Claire, I--”
Jill was interrupted by a sharp pain on her right nipple as Claire bit down on it hard.
A yelp of pain escaped Jill’s mouth as Claire applied a generous amount of licking to the red nipple. Jill breathed heavily, looking down at Claire. She looked like an animal eating fresh food after days of starvation.
Honestly, that metaphor probably wasn’t that far off from the truth, Jill thought. With Claire preparing so much for today’s presentation, they hadn’t been intimate in weeks. Not out of a lack of desire, but from a lack of time—Claire would do research deep into the night, and by the time she got in bed, she was exhausted. Sleep deprivation was a demon Jill knew all too well, and she didn’t wanna bother her even more by asking for sex while she was so tired.
As Claire’s tongue circled around the left nipple, Jill’s entire body shivered. She had a feeling that tonight was going to make up for a lot of lost time.
--
After an unprecedented amount of foreplay, a fully naked Jill fell backwards onto the bed. Claire Redfield, shirtless but still wearing her jeans, loomed over her. Jill pulled her eyes away from Claire’s goddess-like figure and noticed the gun in Claire’s holster. She brought a gun with her? Did she run into trouble on the way back or something?
Before Jill could open her mouth to ask anything, Claire’s hand squished her cheeks together once again, holding her mouth in a death grip. Claire leaned down and spat into Jill’s open mouth. Jill promptly swallowed.
“Get it out,” Claire demanded.
Jill smirked. “I don’t know if you deserve me fucking you tonight, after all the--”
Claire tightened her grip on Jill’s jaw, and Jill’s eyes widened. If Claire’s hand was any lower, she would feel like she was being seriously choked out—in a dangerous way, not a sexy way.
Jill simply nodded, choosing to swallow her pride to fulfill Claire’s request. She crawled over to the other side of the bed to her own nightstand. She pulled open the bottom drawer and pulled out the familiar blue strap-on—sanitized and, frankly, a little dusty. She wiped it off and turned to face Claire.
“Alright, Redfield. I’m gonna show you exactly what happens when you come home treating me like this.”
Not even responding to Jill’s comment, Claire snatched the strap right out of Jill’s hand. She swiftly stepped into it, adjusting the harness to her waist and legs with an almost surgical precision. Like she had been imagining this for a while.
“Turn around.”
Jill, more than even before, was at a loss for words. Claire had never fucked her with the strap before—she had never even shown the faintest interest of being on top. It was like Jill was talking with a whole other woman.
And fuck, did she like this woman, too.
Jill choked back a response. She wanted to resist, to take back control like she always did. But she looked deeper into Claire’s eyes. There was desire and passion there, sure, but there was something else. Her body language, the way she’s acted ever since she got home, her response to her question from earlier...
Her Claire had just been through a horrible day.
As such, Jill sighed. She couldn’t lie, she was interested to see what this would feel like. And it certainly wasn’t like she had never thought of it, either; maybe she had even fantasized about it whenever Claire spent late nights at the library and it was just Jill and her toys.
One thought became resoundingly clear; Claire needs this. It may differ from their usual dynamic, but Jill knew that Claire would do the same for her. And that hot feeling between her legs when Claire started talking to her like that... it was burning hotter by the second.
So, Jill nodded and turned around, ass facing Claire.
Claire looked down at Jill’s muscular back and her bountiful behind. She caressed her rear, enjoying the view, licking her lips. She licked two fingers as well, plunging them inside of Jill’s sex, digging away at the areas she knew Jill loved most.
Jill’s body shook with affirmation, letting out a low moan, her lower body backing up against Claire’s fingers. Claire explored her even more as Jill rode her fingers. When she felt Jill begin to heave, she took her fingers away, and Jill fought back a whimper by biting her tongue.
Claire put both hands on Jill’s ass and grinded the strap up against her entrance. Squeezing her, she slowly entered her, resulting in Jill gasping from the shock of the sensation. Sure, she fucked herself a lot with different things—but feeling the sensation like this, knowing that Claire was doing it... it was on another level.
Claire thrusted back and forth slowly, getting used to the sensation. It was her first time using the strap—not just on Jill, but on anyone. After the day she had just had, she loved this feeling. Being in control, giving pleasure in a way only Jill was doing before. It made her more powerful.
And she wanted more of it.
After another minute of mild thrusts, Claire pulled out. Jill was interrupted mid-moan as she looked back at Claire, her eyes wide with surprise. “W-Wait...” Jill managed to say. “Please--”
Claire shoved Jill to the side, causing the brunette to cling to the bed as to not fall off. Claire laid down flat on the bed, the strap pointing imposingly in the air. She glided her finger across it and licked Jill’s juices off of her finger.
More, she thought. She pointed at the strap as she stared daggers at Jill, her brow still furrowed.
Jill looked at Claire’s length and gulped. Well, she DID skip the gym today to get home earlier and make the cake. This is just as good, right?
Jill crawled over on top of Claire, turning her back from her and positioning her entrance over Claire’s member. She licked her hand and stroked the length to act as another sort of lubricant. She then slowly lowered herself onto it, a groan escaping her lips as her rear finally made contact with Claire’s body, the strap now fully inside of her.
Jill’s head flurried with a surge of new emotions. She wasn’t the type to be caught off guard by new experiences—at least, when it came to average, every day events like sex. She knew what she liked, what she was good at, and stuck to it.
So to be on the receiving end of this particular trinket she kept in her nightstand was something she was still getting used to. It’s not like she didn’t know what to do—she had had Claire in this exact position about a month or two ago. She just wasn’t expecting their roles to ever be reversed.
Taking a deep breath, Jill rode the length slowly. She began to chase after that feeling Claire had so suddenly robbed her of moments prior, and she was starting to find it again. As she bobbed down on her first descent, she--
Click.
She felt a hard press of cold, hard metal up against her lower back.
A familiar sensation, but an entirely different context.
It was a gun.
Her mouth fell open, staring at a specific spot on the ceiling for no real reason. Her entire body froze.
“Faster,” Claire demanded, pressing the barrel up against Jill even harder.
Jill’s heart thumped faster. She obeyed.
Claire watched as Jill frantically rode her cock with increased speed, keeping the barrel of the gun she had picked up from the parking lot earlier up against her lover’s back. Her right hand, unoccupied by a weapon, instead clung onto Jill’s rear, squeezing and stretching it possessively.
Claire bit her lip. Yeah, this was more like it.
Jill, motivated by something arguably a bit more convincing than regular desire, increased her tempo, arching her back to truly put her hips into her work. The scandalous sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, as did Jill’s moans.
Claire smiled. She liked this side of Jill; even if she wasn’t sure when she’d be seeing it again. She felt satisfied and, frankly, empowered by the fact that she could deliver the same pleasure to her that she always did for her.
And in this case, perhaps something a little bit more. She pushed the barrel harder against Jill’s skin.
Jill winced at the increased pressure. Sometimes her back would push back in to the barrel, increasing the pain of the sensation. Yup, that sure as hell was gonna bruise—the first non-scratch related proof of passion that Claire had ever left on her back.
Her heart still raced, both from the sensation of the new experience, but also the slight fear from the gun against her back. She knew Claire would never do anything to hurt her—not in a way she didn’t like. But the bravado to pull out the gun, the fact that it was potentially loaded, and the fact that Claire’s careless finger was the only thing standing between Jill and death itself...
Fuck.
She couldn’t get enough. She rode Claire even faster, her core on fire at this point.
She chased the thrill of the moment. The fear, the pleasure, the uncertainty, the passion...
Until there was only release.
Jill rested on the strap as she came, coating the member even more with her essence. Claire slapped Jill’s ass as she did so, squeezing it greedily once again. Claire thrusted upwards, lifting Jill’s heavier body into the air slightly, as if claiming her as a prize.
Jill fell backwards onto Claire, the member flopping out of her. Claire tossed the gun to the other side of the bed and embraced Jill, running her hands up and down her body. She smiled, kissing Jill’s neck as Jill caught her breath.
Her fingers lingered on Jill’s chest—not at her breasts, but at where her heart was. She felt Jill’s heartbeat—incredibly fast, faster than she anticipated. She frowned.
“Hey...” Claire finally asked after giving Jill a minute or two to calm down. “That was... That was okay, right?”
Jill laughed, kissing her girlfriend’s cheek.
“More than okay. That was... fucking hot.”
Claire chuckled. “I figured it would be. You mentioned gunplay... three months ago?”
“Yeah, but I never thought you would--” Jill cut herself off. “I mean, I’m glad that... I just mean--”
“I know,” Claire assured her. She wrapped her arms around Jill’s upper torso, snuggling up against her.
Jill kissed her on the lips. “So... it crashed and burned, huh?”
Claire frowned. “That’s a nice way to put it.”
Jill sighed. “I’m sorry, Claire. To be honest, I... had my doubts, especially when I read up on who would be at that meeting. But I didn’t wanna dissuade you after you worked so hard.”
Claire smiled. “Thanks. I just... Terrasave took a chance on me all those years ago. I was still so young and had little to no experience to speak of, but they took me in and gave me a purpose anyways. I just... I wanted to repay them somehow, do something for them comparable to what they’ve done for me and so many others. And I...”
Jill frowned and hugged her girlfriend tightly. “You do enough, okay? You ARE enough. Seriously, Chris and I would have never gathered the courage to get the BSAA off the ground if it wasn’t for your courage inspiring us every day. You are enough, Claire. Do you understand?”
Claire cried into Jill’s shoulder, her body quivering against Jill.
“I love you,” she managed to say in a shaky, exhausted voice.
“I love you too, my Claire,” Jill said back, closing her eyes for the last time that evening before the two drifted to sleep.
--
Claire hungrily polished off the last bit of cake on her plate. With the presentation being on the forefront of her mind for most of yesterday, she had completely forgotten to eat anything all day, a fact that earned her a lecture from Jill and a quick serving of a slice of vanilla cake on a plate.
She smiled at Jill, who was almost done with her slice as well. “Tastes great, babe. Thanks!” She said, smiling genuinely for the first time in a while.
Jill laughed. “Yeah, I could tell by the way you scarfed it down in less than a minute. Thought you were gonna choke for a second.”
Claire smiled sheepishly. “Well, what can I say, the idea of having cake for breakfast was just too enticing.”
Jill smiled and nodded. “I’d offer you a glass of milk to wash it down, but...” she pointed at the now warm gallon of milk on the kitchen counter.
Claire groaned. “Sorry, babe. I completely forgot to throw it in the fridge. I guess I was just too excited to... you know...”
“Fuck me senseless?” Jill said with a raised eyebrow.
Claire pointed her fork at Jill, nodding. “Yeah, that.”
Jill laughed again. “Well, don’t get used to it. I have the day off today, so I’m gonna have my revenge. Be afraid, Redfield.”
Claire smirked, bringing her plate to the sink and beginning to wash it. “Oh no, the woman of my dreams is gonna have sex with me. The horror.” She said with a giggle.
Jill finished off her slice and kissed Claire on the cheek. “You’ll soon come to find there are scarier things in this world than zombies, Claire Redfield.”
Claire laughed in response.
Jill stretched. “Anyways, how about we hit the grocery store? We still need some milk and, well, quite frankly, I could use some painkillers after your little performance last night.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed with regret. “Sorry.”
Jill smiled. “Don’t be. I loved it. Just give me a bit of a warning next time before you go vengeful valkryie on me again, okay?”
Claire nodded as she headed for the door. “Promise.” She put on her boots and picked up her helmet. “C’mon, I’ll drive us on my bike. It’s nice outside today.”
Jill smiled as she followed her. “As long as you don’t almost throw me off the bike again.”
“Now, that’s one promise I can’t make,” Claire said with a smile.
--
Mere minutes later, Claire was speeding down the highway once again, but this time, Jill sat behind her on the bike, wrapping her arms around her tightly.
Claire took a deep breath and looked up at the beautiful blue sky. Just yesterday, she was driving furiously down the road, rage in her heart. She knew there would come a time where she would feel that way again; it was inevitable.
She felt Jill snuggle up against her, her own helmet pressing up against Claire’s.
Claire smiled. She didn’t know where she would be without Jill. She offered her so much comfort after Raccoon City, and on days like yesterday, she was like a sanctuary she could always count on.
Claire wasn’t helpless. She knew this for a fact. But as long as Jill stayed by her side, she knew she didn’t have to worry too much about the future, whether it was another nightmare like Raccoon City, or another dreadful meeting with a bunch of suits.
The pair sped off into the distance, leaving their anxieties to be dust in the wind behind them.