Author's Note: Hello again, guys! I'm back after like 23084032984 years.

So sorry for the delay. You guys have hopped on board here just as I'm experiencing some big ol' life changes. I won't bore you with the details, but I will share that I've just recently taken on the role as my sorority's alumni advisor, because I think you guys deserve to know that this story you love so much is being written by a sorority girl. Yes, really.

I thought with the way the story was going, this chapter needed some comic relief, but worry not, all the drama will come flooding back soon.

As always, I'm open to feedback, as well as ways to connect with you guys! I may share social media/etc. on my profile soon.

Enjoy! Sorry for the long note :)

"So after she said that, what did you say?" Carlos asks.

I groan, rubbing my forehead in frustration. "It was a disaster," I say back. "I literally tripped over my words."

I can already tell that the worst part about living with Carlos is that he's going to make me feel stupid for every little thing that I do. Maybe I deserve it, but still.

"Tripped over your words how?" Carlos asked, smirking.

"I meant to ask what organization he's going to be working for, but then I couldn't think of a way to word it without sounding super suspicious, so I just sort of said congratulations. Then the car went silent. The minute that we got back, I ran to my car and came straight home."

Carlos starts howling with laughter. Am I really surprised at this point? "I don't know how you've made it this far, supercop. You're always within inches of just completely blowing your cover. It's ridiculous."

"That was a huge load of information she threw at me at once!" I shout. "I didn't know what to do! I'm sitting around feeling guilty about lying to Leon and Claire, and I find out they've been lying to me, too! And worse, that they were there that night!" I lean closer, as if someone's going to overhear us. "They might've been fighting those godawful monsters, too."

Carlos leans back into the couch. "I wouldn't call it lying. Omitting information, maybe. Not as bad as calling yourself Billie Easter and lying about your sex-pertise. "

I close my eyes and sigh. "I hate you sometimes."

"Because I said sex-pertise?"

I sort of kick at the bottom of the couch, hoping the vibrations sort of zap him a little bit. "Because you're not being any help here."

He's still laughing. "I like how you said it was a huge load."

"For fuck's sake Carlos!"

It's only day two of living together, and I can already tell that it's going to be equal parts therapeutic and chaotic. I hate when he calls me out for stuff.

I hate when he's right.

"So, you have an opportunity to get some serious intel, and you're worried about what, exactly?" Carlos asks.

"It's not that I'm worried, per se. It's just that I feel really overwhelmed right now. I don't know what to do. I'm afraid this is all going to blow up in my face."

"It is probably going to blow up in your face," Carlos says, sticking his tongue out. "But by the sounds of it, Claire is as clueless as it gets. It sounds like all you really need to worry about is Leon."

"But I don't want to worry about Leon," I explain, still struggling to get my words together. "He's supposed to be the easy one now. He's the one that I'm supposed to be myself around. He's the one that told me not to lie anymore. And I can't even ask him about it, because Claire told me not to say anything about it."

"Did you tell her that you were there in Raccoon City, too?"

"No! Keep up with the details! Claire still thinks that I'm Billie Easter. She doesn't even know that I'm, you know, in BSAA."

We sit in silence for several seconds. Finally Carlos clicks his tongue and kind of snorts.

"This is some crazy ass shit."

"Yeah? It just keeps getting worse and worse."

"At least it's entertaining as all hell."

"Yeah, because you get to be on the sidelines!" I practically shout. "When you're actually in the situation, it's not all that fun."

"Newsflash Jill: nobody held a gun to your head and said to go through with this. You decided to go on this little mission all by yourself."

"Yeah, but if I had known that they were involved with Raccoon City, I wouldn't have bothered. This just makes it ten times messier. I really don't know what to do anymore."

Carlos taps his hand against the arm of the couch. "It's not like it was a total impossibility. She is Chris's brother. It's reasonable to assume that she had ties to Raccoon City. I guess the odds were a little low, but they were still there."

I hesitate before responding.

"Do you know something that I don't?" I wrinkle my eyebrows.

Carlos throws his hands in the air. "You know just as much as I do."

"Promise?"

"I swear."

We sit in more silence. I never thought things could be awkward with Carlos, but things sure as hell don't feel comfortable right now.

"Do you want my honest opinion?" Carlos asks.

I'm not sure if I do, but I'm not anyways.

"I don't know if you remember, but there were still hundreds, if not thousands of people still in Raccoon City when everything was happening. Just because they were there doesn't mean that they were caught up in the things that we were caught up in. For all we know, they were just civilians like everybody else, waiting for an escape."

"But Leon was a cop for a Raccoon City, apparently," I point out.

"So? The cops were totally useless, remember? They bailed on the city like a bunch of pussies. In fact, it felt like we were the only ones trying to do anything about anything."

"I think you forget that most of the officers turned into zombies themselves," I sigh, practically at a whisper.

"Point still stands."

We sit in more silence. I wish I didn't feel so damn uncomfortable right now, because the last thing I need is something else to stress about.

His face softens, and I feel a little bit better. I know I don't really deserve his empathy right now. All I've done ever since we reconnected is talk about myself and my stupid, um, sex-capades.

"I think you're looking at this the wrong way," Carlos finally whispers. "Try to be positive. Think of it this way: you're one step closer to actually finding Chris. If you can figure out who's trying to hire Leon, you may have your answer sitting right in front of you."

"But I can't manipulate them anymore. It's not right."

"Okay, but if Chris is working for somebody dangerous, you may actually be protecting them. If you think of it that way, does it make you feel better?"

I hadn't really thought about it that way before.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah," he smart. "Go write in Wild GRL that you're their guardian angel or some cheesy ass shit to make yourself feel better."

I roll my eyes and fold my arms. " I would never stoop down to that level."

"I don't know what you're capable of at this point anymore," Carlos replies. "You're full of so many goddamn surprises."

Carlos stands up, patting me on the leg briefly before grabbing a beer from our fridge. God, that's still feel so weird to say. Our fridge. It's not like living with him has been all that bad, but I was so used to being alone. Then again, just a couple of months ago, I was also used to being single and perfectly sexless. So, I have to be proud of myself for being flexible. Right?

"When's the next time you're going to see them again?" Carlos asked as the swings the refrigerator door open the sound of two beer bottles clanking together is somewhat comforting right now. I need a beer. I hate saying that, but I do.

"I actually have to go to the doctor first," I mutter, almost instantly regretting it.

Carlos quickly hops back onto the couch, tossing me the beer bottle. I eagerly pry it open. I have to admit, Carlos has better taste in beer than I do. He goes all out and gets the three dollar stuff instead of the two dollar stuff like I do.

"Doctor? What for?" Carlos asks.

I almost say it, but the word sort of gets stuck in my mouth. I feel embarrassed. Like a teenage girl. Why am I being so stupid?

"You know, you haven't told me much about your new mission," I quickly change the subject. "I'm really curious. It must be something super important. They ended your training early."

Carlos shakes his head. "You're not getting out of it that easily. You have to tell me what's going on."

"It's none of your business?" It comes out more of squeak than an assertive statement.

"None of my business?" Carlos asks. "I don't know if you've noticed but I think we're a little bit past TMI at this point, Jill."

"I have to get on birth control," I finally admit. "By the way, do you have any idea what a LARC is?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I have absolutely no idea either, but Claire brought it up."

Carlos taps his beer bottle against mine briefly, gesturing me to drink. I take a long sip, enjoying the burning sensation.

"Is that like one of those weird things where you shoot up? Like heroin, except birth control? I dated a girl in college who did something like that. Never knew what it was called."

"You dated a girl that injected birth control? That's a thing?"

I guess the American sex education system really did fail us all.

He snorts. "Well, we didn't date, we just fucked on the regular. Or maybe not even on the regular. Like, three or four times, man. But the whole shooting thing up thing was really weird."

"Okay, I'm not doing that. I don't think that's what Claire meant."

"Well then what are you going to do?" Carlos jobs.

"That's what I haven't figured out yet," I say, taking another long sip.

"What's wrong with good old-fashioned condoms?" Carlos continues.

"Apparently they aren't as effective as people think they are," I explain. "People mess them up more than we'd like to think."

"Well I never messed up," Carlos insists.

"And how do you know?"

"Because you don't see any Carlos Juniors wandering around the Earth, do you?"

I point my beer bottle in his direction and stick my tongue out. "Not that you know of."

He kicks me, and I kick him back. I'm feeling a little bit of the buzz from the beer already. I welcome the sweet release.

He stands, hitting his thighs. "I have an idea."

"What's that?" I ask.

He wanders into his room, swinging the door open. "Hang on just a second!" he shouts from his room.

Not ten seconds later, he re-emerges with a bong. Fully loaded.

"Where the hell did you get weed from?" I exclaim, nearly falling over.

He shoots me a sarcastic look. "The grocery store. Jesus, where do you think?"

"You've lived in Chicago for, like, two days and you already have a dealer?"

He jumps onto the couch, tucking the little green flakes further into the bowl and flickering the lighter. He almost lights it up, then stops, shooting me a confused look.

"Don't tell me you've never lit up before," he squawks. "You're not a cop anymore. You can't arrest me."

I roll my eyes and fold my arms. "Of course I have. It's just been a while."

He flickers the lighter again, but stops. "What are you so afraid of, then?"

I shift. "I mean, it's kind of ironic, considering how badly Claire freaked out after she caught Sherry with those kids."

Carlos shrugs. "So? We aren't teenagers. We can handle it. Shit's getting weird and I think alcohol might not be strong enough."

He lights up. Moments later, the familiar stench and bubbling sound hit. He takes a giant rip, leaning his head back in satisfaction.

I grab the bong out of his hands, burning myself a little on the pipe. "Fuck it. Let me at it."

He laughs slowly. You know, the typical stoner-laugh. "That's what I'm talking about."

I forget what to do at first, so Carlos reaches over and removes the carb for me. Sweet, sweet smoke fills my lungs. Just a few moments later, I feel floaty. And giggly. Why is everything suddenly so funny?

The rest of the bowl sort of flies by in a blur. Everything's so warm and fuzzy. I want to hug Carlos. And the couch. And Mr. Lampy. We sit in a comfortable silence for a while. I'm swaying back and forth. It just feels like I need to be moving my body, you know?

Carlos lets out another stoner-laugh. "Okay, now it's time."

"Time for what?"

"Looking up the birth control stuff."

We both giggle.

"I shouldn't…" It's hard for me to get my words out. "I shouldn't have to be high to do it."

"Yes, but…" I guess he's also stumbling on his words. "You're already stoned? So does it matter?"

"Oh god," I continue. "I do. I have to look up birth control stuff."

We both wander into my room, booting my computer up. I sort of remember in the back of my mind that my room's bugged, but who cares? I feel so light and carefree.

Carlos at first sits on the bed, but I guess it's too far away from him, so instead he sits on his knees next to my office chair, leaning against the desk. His eyes are so bloodshot. Mine probably are, too.

I pull up the search engine, then draw a blank. "What do I look up?"

We both hesitate, then laugh. I think I'm stoner-laughing too.

"The LARC word," Carlos finally replies.

"Oh yeah!"

I type in L-A and it autocompletes to LARC. Creepy. I come across a website called " " that promises to offer detailed information on birth control methods.

"LARC stands for long-acting reversible contraception," I read aloud. "There are two types: the IUD and the Implant. The IUD is inserted…vaginally." It's becoming kind of hard to read, because my vision's all fuzzy. "And the Implant is inserted into your arm."

Carlos's face recoils in horror. "Oh god. Read the next paragraph."

"Using LARCs, like any other type of birth control, causes long-term psychological damage as demonic energy seeps through the device and alters your aura," I continue on, grimacing. "Does it really say that or am I just high as hell?"

Carlos runs his finger over the screen, re-reading the words. "No. It really says that."

"A woman's purpose is to birth our future generation. Without filling the womb, a woman will never feel satisfaction in her life, and will therefore turn to Satan, devoting her life to heresy, doomed to Hell. Which do you choose - Heaven or Hell?" I click the back button, not wanting to read on.

"I don't think that's right," Carlos mutters.

"Yeah, I don't think that's right either," I whisper back.

I click on the second result; a family planning clinic. They have a huge infographic on the front page, with seemingly endless options listed. The pictures sort of float around on the page.

Carlos jabs his hand at the screen and all the pictures snap back into place. I think I'm really high. "There! That's the heroin one!"

I click on the image, but the text on the screen is too tiny for my baked self to read. I guess Carlos couldn't read it, because he just sort of squinted his eyes and looked away.

"I don't think it's heroin," I state as matter-of-factly as I can.

Carlos barely has his eyes open. "Do you think injecting heroin after having sex keeps someone from getting pregnant?"

I don't know whether to laugh or freak out. "Shit, man. I don't know."

"That girl, she never injected it into her vagina or anything. It went into her arm."

"But I think the website said that's where it's supposed to go," I reply.

Carlos runs his hands through his hair. "But what if she was using heroin instead of real birth control, but she inject the heroin in the wrong spot, and now there's a Carlos Junior running around this Earth?"

I can tell he's panicking, but I can't help but stoner-laugh. "Dude. I think we're really fucked up."

Carlos nods. "Beer and weed aren't always the best combination."

I close the browser window. "I think I'm just going to wait until my doctor's appointment."

"Good idea."

He jumps back onto the bed, staring intently at the ceiling. I instinctively crawl in, too, because my blanket and my sheets look heavenly right now. We keep a considerable distance from each other, both staring at the ceiling, as if something's going to pop out from it. An answer. Or a shooting star. Or maybe Chris.

"I get scared that one day I'm going to accidentally fall in love with you," Carlos mutters out of absolutely nowhere.

Excuse me?

I pop up, trying to make eye contact. He's still staring at the ceiling, like I don't even exist.

"Like, it's weird, because like, you're like my best friend. I love the time we spend together. And, like, I mean, I'll be real, you know I'd tap that at any given opportunity. So, like, isn't that what happens when you're in love with someone?"

I shake my head. "It kind of just sounds like you want to fuck me."

He snorts. "Then what's being in love supposed to feel like?"

I sigh. Surprisingly, I'm not having to think that hard on it. They say weed always brings out the truth. Goddamn it.

"It's like, this floating happy feeling. Like, your heart gets full and happy and you just want to hold them close. I guess they make you feel complete or something. I don't know. It's mushier than friendship? A spark."

I can feel Carlos's leg shaking on the mattress. "Yeah, I guess so." He hesitates. "Do you feel that? With Claire and Leon?"

I nod, then realize he can't see me. "I think I do."

"Lucky you," he whispers.

After a few moments, he rolls over to his side, looking straight at me. "You know, no matter what, I'm always down."

I roll over onto my side, staring him straight in the eye. "We can't."

"What do you mean?"

I struggle to hold my laughter in. "We can't. I don't have any heroin to inject into my vagina."

We hesitate, then burst into laughter. Like full-on belly laughter this time. Then, at some point, we drift off into a peaceful sleep.

— —

Going to the doctor's office the next morning with a weed hangover (which, yes, apparently, can actually happen) was not the smartest idea. I felt so groggy and out of it, to the point where I could barely get myself dressed. It wasn't like an alcohol hangover, where you just have a bad headache and eat greasy food and you're fine. This one was disorienting.

The doctor must've noticed, too, because the appointment only lasted about twenty minutes. I think she said something about "visiting other options at a later date" as she wrote me a prescription for regular birth control pills.

I wasted no time when I got home and eagerly open the bag. The little pills are daunting hell. I remember, however faintly, that I'm supposed to take them at the same time every day. I look at the clock. 5:26 PM. I want to bite the bullet, so I guess I'm taking my birth control at 5:26 PM every day.

I stupidly expect something to happen as I swallow that first little pill down. Does something change? Do you feel more womanly, or less womanly? Do you feel your ovaries slip closed or something? I wish I hadn't been so weed-hungover at the damn doctor.

I decide to lie down on the couch, staring into space. Well, more accurately, at the black screen of the TV. I'm too lazy to turn it on. I'm sort of drowning in my thoughts. All of which, in all honesty, are just variations of "what the hell am I doing?"

What the hell am I doing?

Carlos emerges from his room a short time later, carrying an empty bag of Doritos and a paper plate that probably had a sandwich on it.

"You're eating dinner early," I jab.

He tosses the stuff into the trash can. "Nah. It's leftover from lunch."

"You just now ate lunch?"

"No. A few hours ago. I just got really caught up with work."

Right. Work. The thing I'm supposed to be doing. The thing that got me into this whole predicament in the first place.

"What do they have you working on?" I ask.

He sits on the arm of the couch. "It's really complicated. I'll explain some other time."

I groan, sitting up. "Are you going to pull one of those 'you're a girl so you wouldn't get it' lines? Because I've been doing this longer than you have."

He snorts. "Damn, Jill, give me a little credit." He then shifts, tapping his hands together, averting eye contact. "Did things get weird between us last night?"

I'd almost forgotten about our little bed incident.

"I mean, I don't think so? It's not like anything happened," I reply. "I mean, I don't think."

"No. Nothing happened."

I don't want things to be weird with Carlos. I need him on my side. Plus, he didn't admit he was in love with me. All he really did was admit he's attracted to me. Right? I've got enough on my plate, so I'm more than happy to shove this one away.

"I think we were both just stoned off our asses," I finally say.

"I agree."

We hear a knock on the door, and both sort of jump a bit.

"Are you expecting anyone?" I whisper.

"No. Were you?"

"No."

He stands. "Well. It's got to be for you. I don't know anyone in Chicago."

"You have a dealer but you don't know anyone?"

There's another knock on the door.

I sigh. "Fine, asshole. I'll go answer it."

I swing the door open. To my surprise, Leon is standing on the other side of it.

"Leon!" I shriek.

"Hey, Bill-" He catches himself. "Um, Jill. Can I come in?" He says it sort of like a demand rather than a question.

"Yeah, uh, sure." I open the door just a little further and he steps inside. I notice I'm still wearing sweatpants and an old, oversized t-shirt that says Florida Forever on it.

Leon wrinkles his face, looking toward the kitchen. "Do you, um, do you have company over right now?" he asks in an accusatory tone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Carlos making another sandwich in the kitchen. Didn't he just eat?

"Oh! God! No, that's my new roommate. Um, you know, work, they moved me in with one of my team members, for missions and, uh, stuff."

"So you're not-"

"Nah, dude, seriously. It's not like that," Carlos interjects as he paces by. "Two separate bedrooms and everything. Pure business. This is a strict pants-on household."

If I weren't so freaked out from Leon making a surprise visit, I would've laughed.

Carlos extends his hand. "I'm Carlos."

Leon hesitates before returning the gesture. "Leon."

Carlos makes a point to dramatically glance him up and down. "Shit. Not bad, supercop. You've got some good taste." And with that, he retreats to his room.

I rub my eyes. "Seriously. I promise. He's just my roommate."

Leon waves it off. "I believe you."

I instinctively grab his wrist and lead him to the couch. We both take a seat, our legs pressed against each other. I'm not sure whether it's comforting or unnerving.

"It's, uh, good to see you," I awkwardly mutter. "Why, um, you know, why did you stop by?"

Leon half-smiles. "Well, I know the three of us had plans for this evening, but I thought I'd stop by a little early. Claire had a late lunch with some of her friends so…I was bored, I guess? Plus, you know." He sighs. "This whole Jill Valentine thing is kind of weird, but, you know, I'm keeping an open mind."

I don't remember making plans. Then again, the whole conversation with Claire in the car went by in a blur. It's totally believable that I agreed to do something and completely forgot. So I nod along.

Then, something crosses my mind. "Oh. I mean, cool, I guess. Um, how did you find my new apartment, though?"

He chuckles. "It's the same complex. It wasn't that hard. You mentioned the apartment number last time we were together, I think."

Did I?

"Okay," I murmur. "Well, uh, here I am. This is me."

He nods. "Yeah, there you are."

I don't know if it's a newfound surge of hormones or what, but I instinctively pull him into a kiss. He eagerly returns the gesture, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me down onto my back, aggressively grinding into me.

I like it.

He goes to take my top off, when we hear Carlos clearing his throat. "Careful, don't push her down too hard. She hides Dmitri in the couch cushions."

Leon immediately hops off, crossing his legs together. Carlos bites his lip. I want to punch the smirk off his face.

"Dmitri?" Leon asks.

Carlos sticks his tongue out. "Her vibrator."

Leon bites his lip, I guess trying to stifle laughter. I cover my face. Goddamn it, Carlos.

Carlos taps the back of the couch. "You've got some serious competition, dude. If you can't get her screaming, you're not doing a good enough job."

I'm not a screamer. I don't think. Carlos just loves being an asshole.

Leon shrugs. "Well, I'm sure we'll find out sooner or later." Then, he winks. Oh god, he winks.

Carlos burns his eyes into me. "Just keep your eye on the prize, Jill." He throws his trash away and retreats back to his room.

I'm not really sure what to say. Apparently neither does Leon, because we both just sort of stare at each other.

Finally, Leon clears his throat. "So, we have a reservation to go back to Palomino tonight."

I nod. "Oh, awesome. The food there was pretty good."

"Yeah." He taps his fingers against my ankle. "It's a nice restaurant, so, you know."

My cheeks turn red. "I know, I know. I'm not exactly hot shit right now."

Leon's eyes widen. "Oh, shit, no, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant, um, you know, we could go, uh, get cleaned up together."

I wrinkle my eyebrow.

"In the shower."

Oh.

Oh.