Pardon my yapping but fic idea where you’re Albert Wesker’s s/o during the early Tricell days and he is catastrophically oblivious to Excella flirting with him.
She starts subtle, a lilting compliment here, a lingering glance there.
“Albert, you just look so dashing today” dropped like bait.
And he just… stares at her. Unblinkingly.
“That observation has no merit to my goals here.”
He thinks she’s just being polite / inefficient. Maybe he’s just so focused on Total Global Saturation ™️ and that’s why he doesn’t notice.
It’s not until she actually puts her hands on him a touch to the arm, a press too close that fires the neuron in that genetically enhanced brain of his to connect the dots you have been telling him about for weeks and it only leads to annoyance.
“Excella. Physical contact is unnecessary for me to review these reports.”
Afterwards he catches your expression across the room. Jaw tight and the barely concealed “I told you so” burning in your eyes.
That flicker of possessiveness that hones your sharp edge of jealousy?
That goes straight to his ego like gasoline to a flame. Suddenly he has something to prove by fucking the very idea of him leaving you for someone so not his type out of your pretty little head until you can’t remember your own name, let alone Excella Gionne’s.
…Unfortunately the walls of his office are paper thin. Excella, who is never that far behind him, hears every single sound of your dalliance.
And she has the audacity to knock on the door afterward and ask if you’re looking for a third.
Part 5 of the Albert Wesker x F!reader series (Getting to know you)
Part 1
Masterlist
The reader has recovered well since staying at the hospital. Now she continues work, but is asked to attend a meeting with a Tricell executive. What do they want with her?
Word count: 2420
It had been about a month since you were hospitalised. Thankfully you only needed to stay for that one night, just to make sure the gas in the old facility hadn't caused any damage to your brain or lungs. Once your tests came back fine you were free to go. Honestly, you were very pleased with that, not wanting to spend another second in that awful room. It felt like your brain was melting from boredom. If you had to stay for longer you probably would have begged Jane, or perhaps Wesker for some entertainment.
Now you can look back on it as your first, and hopefully last hospitalisation. You can now sit in your own office, doing paperwork, labwork, or whatever else you are needed for. Like now.
Your boss, James Marcus, had wanted about 50 samples done by the end of the day. Already drowning in other projects that need done, this is not what you need at the moment. "Can't it wait? Or you could assign it to someone else? The new hire maybe?" You plead, attempting to get out of it.
"Honestly, I don't trust the new hire with this yet, that is why I asked you," James says, placing the 50 documents on the desk, no room left for debate. Before he can close the door he leans back into the office, just the upper part of his body visible. "I forgot to remind you that there is an executive manager from Tricell wanting to speak with you in the afternoon, they will arrive later so I will set the meeting up." With that he leaves, letting you wonder what Tricell could possibly want with you.
In your department it was Wesker that usually met them. He had already established a connection when he visited their startup facility in Africa, a few years back.
Not dwelling on things you can't change, you start your work on the samples your boss wanted, yet again pushing back your own work.
The afternoon passes by quickly. So far you have processed about 40 out of the 50 samples Mr. Marcus had wanted, all thanks to the help of Wesker. He had walked into the lab and seen your frantic work pace, deciding you needed some assistance. Not that you weren't competent, he just felt like lending you a hand.
Normally you would question his help, but you are desperate to get this done, especially with the Tricell meeting later, which you still had no clue what was about.
"Why would they want me?" You ask Wesker as you process the 43rd sample.
"Your expertise I would imagine," he replies, not looking up from the microscope. He continues to observe the petri dish while jotting something down on a piece of paper.
"But you are usually the one they contact, should I be worried?" You question, not able to help your continuous string of worries.
"No, it will be fine."
His answer leaves no room for more questions. He seems to be very focused today, not up for much conversation or debate.
Before you can worry any more a knock sounds from behind you. Turning around you spot Jane the receptionist. Behind her stands a man you have never seen before. "Mr Travis is here to see you, from Tricell," she says to you once she sees you have noticed them.
You nod and take your gloves off, throwing them away before making your way out of the lab. Before you fully leave you spare Wesker one last glance. He looks at you, glasses resting on top of his head so you can see his expression. There is no smile on his face, but his eyes are kind, like he wishes you good luck, knowing you won't need it.
"It's nice to meet you Mr Travis," you say, reaching out to shake the unknown man's hand. His handshake is firm, a proper handshake indeed. "Likewise, I have heard a great deal about you," he explains as Jane begins to lead the way down the hall.
"James Marcus has let you use his office for the meeting, he will be there as well," she explains, pointing to the office you are familiar with. She stops and lets Mr Travis by first, then giving you a thumbs up and a smile. You reciprocate and follow Mr Travis into your boss's office.
"Alright, let's get this started." James Marcus says as he shuts the door behind you, motioning for you to take a seat. You watch him take his own seat behind his desk and wait for someone else to speak.
"I'll get to the point Miss, I don't want to waste anyone's time here." Mr Travis says as he looks from your boss to you. "Since Tricell has been collaborating with Umbrella in the last few months we have been looking to borrow some of their more competent employees for a while, to work at our Africa facility," he begins, explaining the situation. "So I asked James here if he had anyone in mind."
Your thoughts stop up for a moment, processing the information. "Me?" you point to yourself. "You want me to come and work in Africa?"
"Exactly."
"But, I work here, I live here..."
"Obviously, but we would be compensating you heavily for the hassle of moving, and an additional bonus. Truly your previous papers and research has impressed us, and your boss only has good things to say about you."
You look to your boss, then back at Mr. Travis. "How long would I be there for, and would I be coming back here?" You ask, not exactly sure what questions you should be asking.
"We imagine the first contract would last for at least a year, but it could be extended if we have a further need for you." You start to feel a bit expendable to him. "As for returning to Umbrella, you would be able to after a year of completing your duties for Tricell, privacy policy and all that," he adds, laughing it off slightly.
"So I wouldn't be able to return here for at least 2 years?" You ask, brows furrowed.
"Well yes, or more, it just depends on how effective the research is."
"Okay," you say heavily with a sigh. The deal didn't sound all that bad. You loved your job at the moment and honestly had no plans of relocating in the near future, but this did seem like such an opportunity. You could work in Africa, experience a whole new continent, culture, new people. Additionally you would be heavily compensated. They had shown you the figures. You would be able to not work for about 3-5 years after finishing up there, the paycheck able to cover all your expenses.
You sit there as your boss and Mr. Travis continue to speak, talking about the move, how the companies would continue to collaborate and how things would end up working. It soon comes to an end as they begin to stand up.
"Thank you for the offer Mr. Travis," you say before you are interrupted. "Please, call me Henry."
You smile a tight lipped smile before resuming what you were going to say. "Henry. Thank you for the offer, it truly seems like an amazing opportunity. However, I will have to think about it, I mean it is a big decision."
He doesn't seem all that happy with the answer, frowning for a moment before a fake looking smile replaces it. "I understand, but I do hope you will give us an answer within the week, you understand it is something we really want to move along with as quickly as possible."
You nod and shake his hand, once again thanking him for his time and the offer.
Before returning to the lab you take a quick bathroom break, needing a moment to compose yourself by splashing your face with ice cold water.
"How did it go?" Wesker asks. He is still peering into the microscope as you walk through the door. You need to remind him to straighten up when he does that, his posture is awful.
Not replying instantly you walk over to your station, finding a new pair of gloves and working on what seems to be the last sample. "I got an offer for a job at Tricell in Africa," you explain.
The shattering of glass makes you startle and turn around, only to find one of the beakers Wesker was dealing with, smashed on the floor. His hand stays empty in the air, as if even he is surprised that he dropped it. "What?"
"What happened?" You ask, getting up from your chair and walking over to him, careful to avoid the glass. He still seems in a slight state of shock. The shattered glass must have really got to him, you’ve never seen him so out of it.
"In Africa?"
You ignore him, finding the broom and dustpan, already sweeping up the glass from the floor. Starting with the larger bits you sweep them up, careful not to spread the smaller pieces everywhere. Before you can get to the rest he places his hand over your own, stilling your movements. "Tricell in Africa?" He repeats again as he takes the broom from you, your hands no longer touching. You miss the touch, but don't dwell on it.
"Yes, Tricell in Africa, they said they want me specifically," you explain, not able to discern the expression behind his glasses. You can however see his brows faintly furrowed, confusion perhaps?
"For how long?" He asks, turning around from you and starting to clean up his mess.
"At least two years before I would be able to come back here, possibly longer."
He stills. "You aren't planning on taking it are you?"
You chew on your lip before you reply. "I haven't said anything yet, but it would be a great opportunity."
"You have opportunities here," he replies gruffly, sweeping more haphazardly now.
"Yes, but there are more opportunities there, and they offered me a major pay raise. I wouldn't have to work at all for about five years after." Honestly, you feel like you are explaining things to a child that doesn't understand anything, and you don't really understand why he seems to care so much. You try to step around the glass, to face him, but he seems to turn around as you do so, avoiding your gaze. Stubborn.
"And what will you do with those five years of free time? Waste away? We both know you can't sit still for long." He turns around to look at you, finally, but his tone is harsh now, biting.
"I don't know, relax, travel, work? I never said I wouldn't work, just that I could get away with not working." You emphasise each statement with your hands, feeling frustrated. "Why do you care so much anyway? It's not like you're my husband so I need your approval, and even if you were I still wouldn't need your permission."
That seems to stump him because he has nothing more to say.
You huff again, trying to gain some patience. "Listen, I was just telling you this, I haven't made a decision yet." You tilt your head, waiting for him to respond.
"I lost my patience, I'm just tired," he says. You can't tell if it's a lie or not.
"Okay," you reply.
"Okay," he says before you both go back to doing your own thing.
"You wanted to see me?" You ask, walking into James Marcus's office.
"Yes, I wanted to discuss the offer you received yesterday." He says, again motioning you to sit down in the same chair as yesterday.
"Okay?" You say, again waiting for him to continue.
"Due to your valuable nature here at Umbrella, we have discussed internally, and we find that it would be more beneficial if you stayed here."
"Was this discussed with Henry Travis?" You ask, slightly confused now.
"No, basically we are making a counter offer, higher pay, higher position, a bonus, if you chose to stay here that is."
"Why?"
"Just because we would prefer that you stay here. It benefits us more than the benefits we would receive if we sent you off to Tricell."
"So this is very much out of the blue..." You state, pausing, not really sure what to say.
"We had a talk yesterday with the board members, and a few other members of staff. This offer is the conclusion of that meeting." He explains, not really elaborating any further.
"Who was at this meeting, if I may ask?"
"I am not at liberty to tell you." He stops before handing you a piece of paper. "This is the information about the new position you would hold here, including the tasks you would carry out, and the additional pay and bonus."
You take the paper and stand, thanking him for the offer before leaving, returning to your own office down the hall.
Once you walk through the door you are greeted by Wesker, standing by the door, arms folded, as if he is waiting for you. "So?" He asks, his expression not letting on much.
You look up at him, trying to look at his eyes through the dark lenses. You see the faint outline of them, the light blue of his iris, truly quite beautiful to look at. "So?" You repeat back to him, confused as to what he wants.
Instead of answering he looks at the paper in your hands, then at you. You seem to understand. "This was your doing?" You ask, baffled.
"My previous partner was… lackluster, I cant lose you to tricell." He explains as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.
"I can't believe you would do that," you say, looking back at the paper, sparing another glance at the very large number that is your potential new salary.
"So, what do you say?" He asks, a smile on his face as he takes the paper from you. He walks over to his desk, picking up a pen and is about to sign his name on the bottom, the contract needing a signature from a co-worker as proof of validity.
"Can you do my paperwork for two weeks if I decide to stay?" you reply, your own smile mirroring his own.
Instead of replying he simply signs the page before handing you the pen.
Next part
I assume not everyone remembers, but Henry Travis is taken from the RE5 game. (he is one of several children that inherits Travis enterprise (later known as Tricell)) and James Marcus is one of the founders of Umbrella (if I remember correctly) I thought it would be a fun easter egg. (I enjoy those a lot)
My handwriting sucks yes. Also I’ve been getting into Resident evil again I fear 💔 Wesker’s taking over my mind like uroboros; also sorry my sketch page is so messy
Leon knew his odds were slim. Now in his late 40s as an omega male, he felt society's murmurs and hard facts press down hard—most such men failed to have kids after 38, and he fit that mould. Still, he craved his own family, a dream that looked lost but never died.
The elements on the back of Jill's costume from RE5 seem very interesting to me. What if she injured her back when she fell from the Spencer mansion and needed prosthetics?
And now Albert Wesker is checking how well the Tricell medics have done their job.
Chris and Sheva meeting bioweapon Mer Billy Coen in the African Wetlands (AU)
Instead of being charged with the crimes of killing those innocent villagers in Africa, Billy is knocked unconscious by his remaining brothers-in-arms then promptly dumped in a river near the village to be left for dead. They still blame the murder on Billy but claim he went crazy like the rest of their comrades, and drowned himself in the river.
Billy later gets exposed to whatever run off pollutants from a nearby abandoned bioterrorist facility that turns him into a wetlands mer looking Bioweapon that lives somewhat peacefully in the waterways and marshlands.
Several years later, while Chris and Sheva are in Africa, they come across several villages along the waterways that have depictions of a water spirit or some water being that has been spotted living in the waters over the last decade or so. Sheva explains that the local people have many stories like these, most often shared orally, that warn of dangers to the little ones so they remain cautious and mindful of the water. She assumes it's just another way to tell the children to be wary of crocodile by the shoreline. Chris understands but also asks if it's possible, given the time frame, that it could possibly be something else?
Sheva does consider the idea since bioterror incidences have happened in the region in the past, but there aren't really any accounts of something killing people that wasn't clearly described as a crocodile. This one looks much more like a fish, and if it really was as problematic as the appearance seems to make it, the BSAA would have noticed it by now.
Chris notes that if it was living there for so long then yeah, with how heavily used these waters are for fishing it would have noticably disrupted the fishing trade. Sheva even points out that the people often leave offerings to it in the mornings in hopes that it won't disturb them during their fishing trips. She even points out a few "shrines" along the water's edge where things like fruit or other things are left out for it. Which solidifies the impression that it could just be a local story.
They carry on with their investigation but Chris can't shake the feeling that something feels off. He feels like they're being watched from the moment they get on a boat and begin traveling along the water. When they get to the marshland villages, this feeling gets even stronger. Several times Chris climbs off the boat and when investigating the area, he swears he catches what looks like a human face watching him from the shoreline. But every time he tries to look at it directly, it ducks away back into the water. It doesn't seem to be hostile, just curious about their activities.
After the third village when they reach an area that's peaceful with no infected around, Chris takes a chicken egg from a nest. He cleans it up properly, washes it then wraps it in some clean cloth to place it on the edge of the dock, nestled securely in a groove in the wood beside their boat. Then he returns to Sheva's side with his back partially turned. He can still see it in the corner of his eye but it's hard to tell that he's watching it.
Sheva is looking over their map when Chris notices the face rise up over the edge of the dock to watch them once more. Chris mentions it quietly to Sheva while warning her not to turn to look at it directly. Then loudly asks her if she has a spare magazine clip for him to use. She hands it off, giving her just enough of a turn to catch a glimpse as a pale hand rises over the edge of the dock to grab the egg before it disappears back under the water with the offering.
It's hard for her to believe what she just saw, but Chris was right. There actually was something watching them the entire time, and it wasn't a crocodile. Chris points out that it looks very human just like some of the depictions they saw before drawn on the tapestries and walls in previous villages. "I think they're a victim of bioterror too."
Chris suspects that the reason it never caused anybody any problems was because the locals were feeding it and keeping it complacent. They treated it with respect instead of trying to attack or kill it, so it never really bothered anybody. Just scared a lot of people making them wary of it out of caution. Chris also noticed that he's seen a lot of crocodiles in the area but none have come close to him or Sheva. Even when they had to wade through the water earlier at one of the villages, the crocodiles swam the other way or kept their distance.
He's hopeful that this one isn't an aggressive bioweapon, and that they might be able to gain its trust to get it close enough to communicate with them.
Billy still vaguely remembers what his life was like before. He remembers the pain of betrayal and the fear he felt. He remembers how he didn't like the smell of blood in the air or the cries of pain and panic from innocent people. It's these strong impressions before he became infected that made him live a docile existence co-existing with the locals. He keeps the predators away when small children or mothers are by the water's edge. He's saved young fishermen from drowning or helped right fishing boats that had tipped over. He's kept an eye on the people that call these banks home, but then everything started to change. The people started to change. The food they often left for him stopped. They grew angry and manic. The villages were filled with screams of fear and agony then silence. So much terrible silence. The river banks grew still, and then terrible things started to lurk along their edges.
And now here is Chris and Sheva. Newcomers. Outsiders. People he's never seen before who talk about helping. They find the bodies of dead newcomers everywhere. Men and women who died horrible deaths that Billy couldn't stop. He couldn't leave the water. He can't help them. He can't stop the screams from happening, or the blood that flows, turning his watery home a sickening shade of red.
Billy wants to make the nightmare stop but just like before, he's helpless to fight back.
