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Not A Party

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Rebecca put the phone down and sat in the breakfast nook.

She just got a call from her university, asking her to take some time off. She had protested at first as drowning herself in work seemed like the better option, but they really didn’t offer her a choice. While she appreciated the concern, it also served a double purpose as they needed to figure out where to relocate her research team. Or what’s left of it.

So be it, she thought to herself. She made a mental list of things to do in the meantime, but she quickly realized that whatever it is she wanted to do, she didn’t want to do by herself.

She wants to have some company. Be surrounded by people.

After all, she just had a madman dress her up in a wedding gown, threaten to attach his dead wife’s arm to her, and infect her with a new strain of virus enhanced by her own blood.

The weekend was approaching and for some reason the word “party” crossed her mind.

That’s it, she thought, she’s going to host a party for Chris and his team. Except she didn’t want to call it a ‘party’, as it sounded a little too happy considering the circumstances. Maybe a small get-together to celebrate the fact that they’re alive and took down the bad guys.

Whatever, she sighed. It’s called a party, no matter how she spins it.

She picked up the phone again and dialed Chris’s number.


She had old school tracks playing, a lot of liquor and some hors d’oeurves, nothing too fancy.

Chris arrived with a small group of BSAA agents including Nadia and DC.

Of course, she also had to invite Kennedy, and was surprised when he actually showed up.

She didn’t know a lot about him save for his short stint as the most unfortunate rookie cop in Raccoon, and his misadventures in rural Spain. She seemed to remember hearing that he dated Claire Redfield for a while, but she wasn’t sure if she had just imagined that and believed it to be true. And she was absolutely not about to ask Chris.

They sat around her table, sharing stories and whatnot. Chris of course was the life of the party, and Kennedy seemed to get along with everyone well, but he is somewhat guarded and definitely introverted.

It was a while before she noticed that he’s been missing from the table.

She scanned around and noticed the sliding door slightly parted. She caught a glimpse of someone outside.

There he was, alone in the balcony, leaning over the railing.

Rebecca got up from her seat and walked towards the sliding door, drink in hand. She was the host after all and maybe he wanted to leave early.

He had his back turned towards the door, and she took her time taking slow, rhythmic steps forward as she studied his form. He was wearing a brown leather jacket that fit him perfectly, but it wasn’t the way the garment hugged his svelte upper body that caught her attention, but rather what’s below.

His jeans. He looked good in them.

He wasn’t strikingly tall, maybe an inch or two shy of six feet, but the way his jeans fit accentuated his long legs. He wasn’t muscular like Chris, but Rebecca could tell he was toned by the way the fabric hugged around his thighs and looked tight around his small but round—

He felt her presence and turned his head sideways.

Rebecca swiftly averted her gaze upwards to his face. “Hey,” she said casually with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he responded, caught off guard.

She walked towards the railing to join him, the ice cubes in her drink clunking in the glass as she did so. She kept the smile on her face and moved her gaze to the view in front as she saw his head follow her direction in the corner of her eye. “Getting too stuffy in there for ya?”

“I figured I could use some fresh air.” He had his hands clasped together over the railing, and to her surprise, he wasn’t holding a drink. She decided not to say anything about it and pretended not to notice.

A chilly breeze came by followed by a few seconds of silence. “How are you?” she asked, breaking the ice.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Fine I guess. You?”

“Never been better,” she replied.

An awkward silence had befallen them again and it was way colder outside than she expected. She briefly considered going back indoors when he spoke, “Listen. Back in Colorado. I apologize for mocking you.”

In his drunken binge he had called her Dr. High Hopes, she remembered. She shook her head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. We came to ruin your vacation after all.”

He looked at her and smirked. “And to spare my liver a few more years.” A soft breeze passed and moved his bangs gently on his face. His hair looks so soft, Rebecca thought. He gave her the impression that he is an overall well-kempt person, with perfect hygiene, and maybe a little vain too.

That’s good. A little vanity doesn’t hurt, she thought.

“Hey,” she answered, turning her body so she finally faced him. “You gotta give yourself credit. It wouldn’t be over without your help. So thank you.”

He looked down on his hands over the railing. “Over for now.”

To that she really didn’t know what to say, as she did feel for him in a way, and even agreed with him on the matter. He picked up on her uneasiness. “I’m sure you didn’t invite me over to listen to me be a depressed sack of shit. Sorry.” He let out an embarrassed laugh. “Some of us can’t help it.”

“Until something snaps you out of it,” she said coyly, giving a quick shrug as if to convey understanding. “Or someone.” She turned her back to the railing and saw him look up at her in the corner of her eye.

“You’re not alone in any of this stuff. You, me, Chris... none of us really know how to deal with all this crap the world throws at us,” she paused to drink, “but I do know that it helps to be normal when you can. At least for me.”

He seemed to listen intently.

“Y’know. Just do normal stuff that normal people do. Go out. Do some shopping. Pick a new hobby. Take a wife.”

That last one was pretty out of left field, she realized. But it lightened up the mood, albeit unintentionally on her part. He shifted his position to face her, a surprised laugh escaping his mouth. She caught a whiff of the perfume he’s wearing as he did so. It was a little musky but more floral, almost like something a woman would wear. She liked it.

“Hey, it works for some people,” she shrugged, lifting her drink to her lips.

“Does it?” he mused, “Would it work for boring and jaded asses like mines?”

She gave him a playful, judgmental look. If anything, she found him enigmatic, not boring. And the kind who could really go out and have fun if he wants to. “Somehow I’m not surprised to find out that you’re the type who’s too hard on themselves.”

“Maybe I am. But I’m also right,” he said with a confident smile.

“C’mon, you can’t be THAT bad.”

“The only way to find out is to volunteer.”

That sure escalated quickly. Was he... flirting? With her?

Now that was something she was totally not expecting from him, but that doesn’t mean she can’t roll with it. Sure, she’s not trash at flirting herself, but he also made it too easy for her, especially with the way he looks in his jeans and how he smells so good— and his hair, that sexy, sexy hair.

Only he can get away with a hairstyle from the nineties.

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, “I think this is the part where you should be down on one knee.”

He gave her a sly smirk. Here we go.

“Hey, lovebirds. It’s getting cold out,” someone called out from inside, and who else could it be but Redfield himself. “What you guys talkin bout there?” He was peeking out at them through the sliding door.

She turned toward his direction and shrugged. “Marriage.”

She had to stop herself from bursting out in laughter at the expression Chris made. She’s gonna have to avoid making eye contact with him for the remainder of the night.

“I’ll consider. Rebecca Chambers-Kennedy does have a nice ring to it,” she said to Leon as she beckoned him to walk back in with her.


Much to Chris’s suspicion, Leon offered to help her clean up the place. Except they ended up trashing it further.

He carried her around with his strong limbs and pinned her against the table, the wall, the goddamn fridge, all the while their mouths were tightly locked onto each others’ save for when they paused to catch some air.

He was intense, just as Rebecca expected. Just the way she likes it.

They knocked over cups and tableware as the smart speaker continued to blast out her playlist. If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad, if it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad...

When they managed to break a few glasses, he decided to carry her to her room while she giggled like a teenager.

He slammed her into her own bed and slid off of his clothes as she got rid of her blouse and pants. Off comes his nice jacket, the shirt he was wearing underneath, and she admired the contours of his toned arms, wondering why she’s never seen him dressed to show them off more. He pulled his pants and underwear down just as quick as he picked her up by the thighs and slid her to the edge of the bed. He kneeled down then proceeded to remove her underwear skillfully with his teeth.

Rebecca mewled helplessly as she nestled his face between her legs, her hands grabbing a fistful of his silky hair. She could tell that it was something he loved to do by the way he was really into it, and just by how good he was at it. His warm tongue sent shivers down her entire body. He lapped at her folds with impeccable pacing and sucked at her core, calculated enough not to overstimulate. She reached her peak in no time and thrashed under him in waves.

He came up, facing her, and she stroked his entire length with one hand, pleased with what she’s seeing. He looked disheveled and absolutely gorgeous. He was hard and angry and had a little lean to the side. She picked up the pace, giving the tip a little squeeze, making him gasp. When his breaths got a little more ragged, she gave him a knowing smile and signaled towards the dresser to their right. He got on the bed and reached for the box she kept inside it while she unhooked the clasp of her bra.

She took the condom from his hands while he turned his focus on her full, perky breasts. He kneaded them with strong hands and looked at them with so much admiration that she couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. He shut her up by taking one in his warm mouth and suckling at it. A breathy moan escaped her throat. He let go and squeezed her breasts together, then started to work on the other.

Unable to take it any longer, she grabbed his head away from her chest and pushed him to lay down beside her. She then climbed on top of him, rolled the condom into place and slid herself down.

She moved rhythmically in a fast pace and Rebecca could see that he had a surprised look on his face, mouth open as he groaned. She could tell he was definitely not expecting her to be the type to take the lead, and she felt smug to have proven him wrong. He ran his hands all over her breasts, her smooth stomach and around her bottom, supporting her weight as she rode in ecstasy.

He came first, his hands tightening on her bottom and his hips bucking wildly, penetrating her deeper. He then quickly turned over to his side, taking her with him as he was still inside her. He repositioned her so that she was on her side, and lifted her leg up as he kept thrusting steadily, determined to take her to her peak a second time.

It was much more intense than the first and she moaned with reckless abandon.

They lay still and tried to catch their breaths together. He slowly slipped out of her, then planted soft kisses on her neck and shoulder blades. She closed her eyes in content, her back towards him.

He was running circles on the soft skin of her arm with his thumb. “What else do normal people do,” he said against her back with a low, raspy voice.

“Get some well-deserved sleep without having to wake up too early in the morning,” she replied with her own sleepy tone. “And maybe make some hearty breakfast. Like french toast with marmalade.”

They’ll discuss what to tell Redfield in the morning over it.