Chapter Text
Sometime in 1996,
You were alone in the training room, a large open space with high ceilings and bright fluorescent lights. Under you were soft mats to cushion hard falls, and off to the sides were dozens of exercise machines and weights, as well as punching bags and the doors back to the police station. It was late at night, you had finished a pretty standard STARS shift, standard for when there were no missions to complete that is; mostly paperwork, training exercises and playing pranks on Chris Redfield. You weren’t ready to go home yet though, despite staying late to work on the paperwork backlog, you were still full of energy. So, you’d changed into a STARS t-shirt and exercise shorts and decided to take on one of the training dummies for a late night workout, hoping to relieve some of your pent up energy.
You’re laying flat on the floor with one leg in the air. You had been going through some routine stretches, but wanted to feel some extra burn to ensure you were fully warmed up. What you were trying to do was a two person stretch, and you were struggling to do it alone; finding it difficult to keep your leg straight while also getting the extension you needed. You groaned in frustration, eyes rolling as you were getting ready to give up, arm slumping to the mat.
“Trying to do a two person stretch alone, cadet?” The voice comes as a surprise, and before you can react, firm hands are on the back of your exposed thigh and the top of your shin, pressing down and applying the pressure you weren’t able to get on your own. You struggle briefly as you realize what is happening, eyes flying open to see Captain Wesker kneeling beside you, his grip firm enough to hold you down in the stretch even as you tried to wrestle yourself from his grasp.
“What can I say? I’m ambitious.” You sigh, enjoying the renewed pressure he was applying.
“Is that so?” The captain flashes you a wolfish grin, tightening his grip on your thigh slightly, pushing your leg gradually forward.
Before you can hiss at him to ease up he stops, holding your leg firmly in place. You let out a sigh of relief, finally stretched the way you were looking for. Your eyes flutter open only to meet his extreme gaze as you realize he’s been intensely watching you this whole time. Heat floods to your cheeks as you become acutely aware of his hand on your bare upper thigh.
“Y-you’re here late captain.” You try to break the silence, not realizing how intense the moment has become. He blinks at you, as if broken from a trance before gently bending your leg at the knee, setting it down and starting on stretching your other one.
“Yes,” He palms the back of your other thigh, “Though I could say the same for you.”
A soft hiss escapes your mouth as he applies the same pressure to your other leg, still watching your face intently.
“Got tired of doing paperwork….” You trail off as he continues to extend your leg, “Thought I’d come down here and hit something.”
He lets out a low chuckle, “I see…”
“Since you’re here, do you want to spar?” He releases your leg, offering his hand to help you off the floor. You take it and he pulls you up, nearly causing you to lose your balance.
He fixes you with another wolfy half smile, “You must be eager to lose, cadet.”
...
Sparring with the captain became a weekly occurrence. Then weekly turned into almost nightly. It seemed you both had the extra energy and enjoyed the company, sparring helped you both blow off some steam. He had been right, you’d lost the first night, and still lost most nights, but you held your own. You were the ALPHA team medic anyways, not exactly a hand to hand combat expert. The sessions with Wesker definitely seemed to help though.
“You still haven’t answered me.” His voice was cool despite the situation. You don’t know how he managed to stay so composed while fighting, you felt like you were coming unravelled at the seams: brows furrowed in concentration, sweat pouring down your face and arms as you fought off his onslaught. As always he hadn’t even broken a sweat, his STARS t-shirt still crisply tucked into his combat pants, an outfit you’d insisted on after you’d noticed he’d always arrive to sparr wearing his business casual shift attire.
You ignored his question again, you barely had time to think in this fight, he was trying to distract you. You grit your teeth, throwing a punch towards his left side. He blocks swiftly, countering with his own, barely giving you time to react. Your arm comes up in time to block the blow, but you still take the full force of the hit, grunting in pain.
“At a loss for words, cadet?” He flashes his teeth in a half smile as he winds up a series of furious kicks. It’s all you can do to block them, forced backwards with each blow, doing your best to withstand the force and stay on your feet.
“I’m a little BUSY at the moment!” You yell out, dodging a well placed roundhouse; his leg narrowly missing your shoulder. You realize too late that it’s a mistake, to evade his strike you’d thrown yourself off balance; all as he’d planned. Your eyes grow wide as you realize your mistake, briefly catching his smug look before the next kick sends you flying flat to the floor, landing with a satisfying “oof,” as the wind is knocked out of you.
The fluorescent lighting of the gym ceiling has become an all too familiar sight, since Captain Wesker knocks you back on your ass so often. His shadow falls over your face, blocking the harsh light as he stands over you, not yet offering his hand to help you up.
“Now, are you really going to make me repeat myself, cadet?” To most people he would have sounded annoyed, but you knew him well enough to know better. The slight curl of his lip, placing emphasis on ‘repeating’ himself, calling you ‘cadet,’ he was teasing you and you knew it.
You stare up at him blankly, “You were serious about that?” You hadn’t even considered his question. He regards you carefully, studying your face before letting out a low chuckle.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks.
“I…” You trail off, slightly embarrassed at your blunder, heat flooding to your cheeks, “I thought you were trying to distract me….” You avert your gaze, face hot, unable to withstand his intense staring any longer. He is silent for a moment before more soft laughs escape him. Your eyes snap back to him, having never heard him laugh for more than a moment. They’re quiet, but deep; like thunder rolling distantly over mountains. It’s a lovely sound, you feel your gaze soften as you look at him and your heart flutters for a moment before you remember he’s laughing at you.
His deep laughter stops as soon as it had started and he extends his hand to help you up, you hesitantly take it, “I don’t need to resort to petty tricks to beat you in a sparring match.” He’s back to his usual composure, watching you carefully, “Dinner then?” He continues once you’re back on your feet, his hand lingering in yours as you’re pulled a little closer than you were meant to be.
“I’d like that, yeah.”
…
His gaze is unrelenting even in the dim lighting of the restaurant; a much fancier place than you’d been expecting to go for a first date. While you were a doctor and made a decent wage, most of your career before STARS had been focused on overseas charity work in underprivileged and war ravaged areas, so the lux and expensive restaurant is a stark change of pace for you.
“You look absolutely breathtaking, dear heart.” Your heart thumps in your chest, you’d worn something off the shoulder and backless, but a modest length; one of your favorite dresses. You two had just been seated and had barely had a moment to speak since you’d decided to meet at the restaurant.
“Thank you ca-,” You falter, realizing how ridiculous and formal it would be to call him captain on a date; did you even know his first name? “Al, thank you Al.” You quickly saved, eliciting one of his signature half smiles from him, clearly amused by you.
“It’s nice to see you out of the office, you always dress nicely but I see now that you’re dressed down at work.” STARS office attire was business casual, unless you were running drills or training exercises; so most members were usually clad in slacks and button downs, sometimes polos, things like that. Captain Wesker was no different, though his style always had an elevated quality to it compared to the rest of them. His suit was tailored to perfection, a tan color that suited him surprisingly well, with a dark turtleneck underneath, golden cufflinks matching an expensive-looking golden watch. Most surprising was the pair of gilded half moon glasses he wore, in the office he wore sunglasses most of the time so you didn’t know he wore regular glasses.
“I enjoy…. The finer things in life, nice clothing is just one aspect of such things. But, the feeling is completely mutual.” You smile at him, the table between you is small and you are half tempted to reach out and take his hand; to rub circles on his skin and ask him to tell you about his nice watch but you stop yourself. You were hesitant to show affection, he was still your captain afterall, your BOSS; you couldn’t deny the way he was beginning to make you feel though.
“Would you like some wine? I take you as a sweet red kind of person.” His question shakes you out of your indecisive fog.
You nod and smile sweetly, “How did you know?” He calls the waiter over and orders you two a bottle of something sweet and expensive.
“Lucky guess.” You can’t deny the way your heart flutters at his voice this time and you decide to be bold and take his hand. A quick look of shock crosses his face but is quickly replaced by a smug one, pleased by your boldness.
Your fingers are soft on his skin, you expect his skin to be cold but it isn’t; he’s pleasantly warm and you find yourself growing greedy to explore more of him. Restraining yourself for now you find contentedness in tracing small shapes onto the top of his hand.
“Want to tell me about your watch?” You muse, not looking up from his hand, turning it over to look at his palm, transfixed.
Low laughter escapes him as he watches you, amused, “I could bore you to death talking about my watch if you’d like, but I was hoping to learn more about you.” This piques your curiosity, glancing up from his hand for a moment to catch his eyes before going back to following his palm lines with your fingers.
“Oh?” You don’t offer any further questions, wanting to force him to play his cards and ask his own questions.
“Yes, you have quite an extensive resume and file, it seems you’re quite over qualified for STARS.” Your breath catches and your fingers flutter for a moment, focus on his palm broken; you leave your hand in his and carefully meet his gaze.
“You think so?” You try to be coy, as if you’re modest about your own qualifications.
His half smile is almost predatory, as if you’re a lamb he’s been stalking, “Graduated at the top of your class, extensively worked on the Human Genome Project, several experimental vaccines and treatments under your name, and you also worked with the US military and charity groups in Africa. That’s quite a list.” You stiffen under his intense stare, hoping he didn’t notice.
You try to pass the moment off, laughing nonchalantly, “I suppose you’ve been through my file then.” Your index finger idly passes over his palm, doing your best to play it cool. You don’t like talking about your past; you left Africa and the US Government behind for a reason.
“So what is someone with your resume doing in Racoon City? With your credentials you could have a job anywhere you wanted: government, military, medical. I’m surprised a company like Umbrella hasn’t tried recruiting you.” He pressed forward; his tone was casual but serious, almost like there was something else at play.
“Who says they haven’t?” You let the words hang in the air. It was true, the pharmaceutical company had heard of your accomplishments with the HGP and your research into vaccines and had tried to recruit you. It’d pained you turning them away, a prestigious company with deep pockets, but you couldn’t risk it after Africa, “You know Al, if I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a job interview.” You say cooly.
He looks shocked but only for a moment, regaining composure so quickly you’re not sure if he ever lost it, “No not at all, I’m curious to know why such a bright young doctor would choose to work below her qualifications is all.” He squeezes your hand gently, you had forgotten you were even holding it at all; it’s a comforting gesture, “You’re a part of my squad, I’d like to know why.” His words are soft and genuine, almost apologetic, as if he hadn’t meant to come across so severe in his questioning. You felt a little bad, you were very defensive about your past, always worried that your ghosts would come back to haunt you; it was natural for him to be curious.
“Let’s just say that the US Government and I didn’t quite see eye to eye on some things; that’s why I left the military, I was better suited to charity work. I became a doctor because I want to help people, that’s why being a part of STARS is nice. I can still do my part as a medic, and on my off days I have time to work on personal research and projects.” You flash him a flirty smile, “Experimental vaccines and treatments don’t just make or finish themselves you know.”
He laughs, the low rumbling sound you’ve started to love, “No, I suppose they don’t. You should tell me about your work sometimes.”
It’s your turn to chuckle softly, you had no doubts that Captain Wesker was an intelligent man, but you’d bored enough people to death talking about viral genealogy that you knew better.
“Maybe when you tell me about your watch I’ll tell you about viral phylodynamics.”