#three to one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prolestariwrites · 10 months

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Three To One

Fandom: Resident Evil Rating: T Characters: Jake Muller, Sherry Birkin

Summary: Sherry is nothing like any of the girls Jake has ever met before. It's too bad he has no idea what to do with that.

A/N: Just a quick oneshot because I love this couple. This is also on AO3 so if you prefer go ahead and read over there (link to my profile is in my header). If you like this please share so others can find it too! Thanks for reading!

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

Jake is just getting inside his room when his phone buzzes. “Shit,” he mumbles, his arms full of his equipment, which he quickly drops on the bed after kicking the door shut. He pulls his pack around and fishes inside the front pocket for the phone, but it quits its vibrations before he can find it.

He sighs when he finally gets a grip on it, figuring it’s another job. Whether or not it’s one he will actually do remains to be seen: he’s been out of the mercenary business since Liangshang, focusing his work now on BOWs instead of politics. The money isn’t as good, which means he can’t really afford to miss a job, so he sits heavily on the mattress as he snaps the top of the phone up.

Before he can go to his missed calls, a text message pops up. He presses his thumb to the blue square, his eyes widening when Sherry’s name appears at the top. Their last conversation fills the screen until the bottom, where her new message reads: >Call me when you get some time, okay? :D

He clears his throat, rubbing his other palm on his thigh. A quick check confirms it was Sherry’s call he missed, and for a moment he wonders if something is wrong. But she wouldn’t have put a smile emoji at the end of a message if something was wrong, right? Jake frowns and rubs the back of his head. His experience with women does not include the kind that use emojis.

Deciding to call her back in a few minutes, he stands and starts to put his gear away. He has two more nights in the little hotel room before he needs to move on, the latest mission now complete. Jake sits at the little table and takes apart his guns, cleaning them thoroughly and trying not to think about his cell phone sitting on his bed. Every once in a while he glances over, wondering if Sherry is waiting for him. No way she is, but she wants to talk to him. What if it’s urgent?

He sets the last gun aside and walks over to the bed, looking down at the screen. It stares back blankly, stubbornly refusing to reveal the real reason Sherry called. Maybe she just wanted to check on him, although something in him doubts it. Sherry knows he can take care of himself, and he hadn’t given her the details of the pack of zombie wolves that were spotted around the mountain towns. If she had known, she probably would have insisted on sending him backup, which Jake didn’t need. What he needed was the commission from getting rid of the shitstains.

Jake curses under his breath and goes back to his pack, finishing putting away the guns and ammo and taking stock of the rest. One of his blades was snapped in the hunt, getting stuck in a tree when he was trying to cut some branches. Other than that he is in pretty good shape, so he decides a shower is next on the agenda.

Yet he finds himself racing through his wash. Usually after killing he likes to stand under the water, turned as hot as it will go, and watch the dirt and blood circle the drain and take away whatever shit was clogging up his brain along with the grime from hunting. It was a ritual from his mercenary days, although now that he isn’t targeting humans anymore, there isn’t any guilt to sit like a hot rock in his stomach.

The ritual is put aside for a fast, lukewarm shower, and once he is clean he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and sits on the bed, barely long enough for his tall frame. His skin is damp as he lays back on the pillow and picks up his phone, taking a deep breath before dialing Sherry’s number. They’ve talked loads of times, keeping in touch in these months since China. She helped him get some contacts to start working, and in return he does some side work for the DSO, tracking sightings and sending back information on request. They usually text or email job details and some pleasantries, but he and Sherry don’t usually talk. But they have a few times, so this shouldn’t feel so nerve-wracking.

His stomach flips when she answers. “Jake, is that you?”

Her cheery voice doesn’t set him at ease like he had hoped. “Yeah. Everything okay?”

“Absolutely. Those specs you sent last week were perfect. The higher ups are pretty pleased.” She takes a breath before asking, “Are you still in Belarus?”

Jake clears his throat. “No, actually. I’m in Romania.”

“Romania? You didn’t tell me you were heading somewhere.” She doesn’t sound hurt, just surprised, and he has an apology rising on his tongue when she continues, “That actually works out better.”

“Better?”

“Yeah. Do you have a few days you can take off? I could use your help with something.”

“Yeah! I mean—yeah.” Trying not to sound too eager, he switches the phone to the other ear. “What, uh… is it a job?”

“No,” she replies. “Well, I’ll be working, sort of. Can you meet me in Greece?”

Jake glances around. One of the things the DSO had helped with was a proper passport, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Once he gets paid he’ll have enough for a ticket. But if it’s not for a job, then what? “Want to clue me in on where we’re going?”

Sherry laughs, and heat flares on his neck. “I’m going to a conference and could use a friend. I hate going to these things by myself. I’ll send you the info, okay? It starts Tuesday.”

“A conference?”

“Most governments will have reps there. The DSO is sending a few teams and I was chosen to go. Are you in?”

He nods. “Okay. I mean, I can meet you. And uh… thanks, I guess. For thinking of me.”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!” Sherry sounds excited, which makes him smile. “I’ll email you right now. See you in a few days!”

True to her word, Sherry sends the information for a hotel in Xanthi, and for the rest of the evening he looks up everything he can about the city. It’s on the seaside, like pretty much everywhere worth going, lots of restaurants and beaches and the usual tourist fare. The conference is at the university in town, some kind of networking thing for international organizations in the bioterrorism game. Makes sense that the DSO would have a presence there, although he doesn’t know if that’s good or bad.

He hasn’t been to Greece, and he wonders if he’ll stick out. Jake glances over where his boots sit on the floor, his dark cargo pants slung over the chair. He doesn’t exactly have anything to wear to a conference either. With a groan he closes the laptop and sinks down, regretting agreeing to go. Bioweapons he can handle. Making nice with suits is an actual challenge.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

The flight is cheap and blessedly short. He had to make a stop at one of his storage units to drop a lot of his gear: can’t exactly get on a plane with a grappling hook. He does check a gun just in case, feeling almost naked without it while they are in the air.

He stands with his backpack on at the baggage claim, watching impatiently for his case. Just as he spots it he hears his name, and Jake turns to see Sherry’s blonde mop in the crowd, heading towards him. He hesitates, not knowing if he should go to her or grab the case, and ends up doing neither, frozen as he watches it roll by and around the other side.

“Jake! You made it!” she calls.

“You didn’t have to meet me.”

He turns towards her voice when he finds himself in a tight hug. Sherry barely makes it to his chin, so she goes on tiptoe to put her arms around his neck, catching him in surprise. Jake’s eyes go wide when she leans up and plants a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Alarm bells are blaring in his head. He puts his hand on her waist and pulls back as she sinks down on her heels. “Hey, uh…” Jake shakes his head to clear it, still feeling her soft lips and the sticky bit of her chapstick on his skin. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself.” Sherry grins up at him. “Is this all you brought?”

“No, my case—shit. Wait here.” He turns and hurries over to the turnstile, jogging a bit around to the other side when he spots his case. “Excuse me,” he mutters as he nudges his way through the other passengers, grabbing it and hauling it from the moving ramp with a thud.

The noise snaps him out of his daze. Jake looks up to see Sherry wave, and he realizes she just kissed him. Not a real kiss or anything, but…

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Bioweapons are way easier than this.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

Jake sits half-slouched in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table as he sneaks glances at Sherry. The conference is hosting a dinner, and he’s there as Sherry’s “plus-one”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. The past two days as she’s attended meetings he’s mostly been exploring the city, unused to the lack of action and the happy crowds of tourists. Part of him itches to get back to the field, but it ended up being worth it to go to this event.

The place is nice, and even though he isn’t wearing anything fancy Sherry had assured him a black shirt and pants would be fine. She is in a dress, the first time he’s ever seen her in one, and he’d be lying if it didn’t take him by surprise. This is only the second time since their first adventure together that they’ve seen each other; the first was not long after they first went their own ways, when she met him in Germany to help get him set up as a special contractor for the DSO. It had been weird to see her again after everything they went through, almost awkward.

This time things seemed different. Sherry was genuinely happy to see him, and it put him at ease despite being around so many people. Jake had learned her original travel partner got sick, so even though he didn’t have a pass to the conference he could use the hotel room. Suited him fine anyway: sitting in a room listening to people talk sounded like torture. In the evening they’d have dinner and hang out as she told him about the people she met and he would give little stories about the residents he met in the city, swapping stories about missions and their backgrounds.

Spending time with Sherry was nice. More than nice, amazing actually. She was just so different from the women he used to know, intelligent and funny and mature despite her youthful looks. Jake was starting to dread the end of this conference and splitting up again—that is, until she showed up for dinner in that damn dress.

He can’t stop glancing over, and luckily Sherry is absorbed in the keynote speech to notice. His eyes keep falling to her neck and tracing her exposed shoulders, the little straps leading to a sweetheart neckline that makes his throat tight. It’s not that he’s never thought of Sherry that way—God knows he’s had plenty of thoughts—but she is so out of his league that having her so close, the memory of her kiss on his mouth, makes it almost impossible to sit still.

Thank god this conference was almost over. Like dangling a sandwich in front of a starving man.

Her hair is longer now, and she tucks it behind an ear as he watches, the little hoop in her earlobe catching his eye. She is wearing some kind of cherry and jasmine perfume that smells like heaven, and when she shifts and crosses her legs, his eyes dart down to the shapely calf that leads to a pair of nude heels.

He pushes his chair back and Sherry glances over. “You okay?” she mouths.

Jake nods. “Just need a drink,” he whispers.

She chuckles at that, her smile warm. “This isn’t the most exciting thing, I know. We’ll get something after, okay?”

Her wink makes him feel stupid for saying anything. “Yeah,” he mutters, sitting back in his chair.

The speaker finally wraps up and the emcee once more takes the stage. He announces dinner will be served shortly, but before that, “We have an award to give,” he says. “Our organization wishes to recognize those that have given exemplary service in the field of anti-bioterrorism.”

They clap politely as he opens an envelope. “This year we recognize Sherry Birkin from the Division of Security Operations. Ms. Birkin, can you please join me up here?”

Jake looks in surprise over at Sherry, who seems just as bewildered. She turns to him with a laugh, standing as the crowd starts to clap. “I had no idea,” she says to Jake.

“Well go up there,” he huffs impatiently.

She nods and quickly stands, weaving through the tables towards the stage. Jake watches as she walks up the steps at the side, and when she arrives at the podium the emcee hands her a small plaque and guides her to the microphone. He smiles as he claps along with the others, feeling a strange sense of pride. None of these people probably have any idea how good Sherry really is but him.

“Um, thank you so much,” Sherry says once the applause dies down. “I had no idea that I would be receiving this recognition. It means a lot…”

Her voice fades as she squints into the audience. Jake frowns and turns, trying to see what she is looking at. There are figures advancing from the back of the room, and the way they move instantly sets off alarm bells just as Sherry yelps, “Everyone, quick! Run!”

Her words are barely heard as gunshots erupt. Panic breaks out as people start to scream and run, the dark figures aiming guns at the escaping attendees and pushing through the crowd. Jake moves, jumping over his chair and sliding around the table to get to the stage. A figure in black fatigues approaches with a handgun and he grabs it and yanks, pulling him off his feet. They struggle for a moment before Jake delivers a series of punches, leaving the figure groaning and unmoving on the ground.

In the corner of his eye he can see people rushing the stage, so he yanks the gun from the assailant’s hands and spins. Two people are dragging Sherry away, both with weapons, as she struggles against their grip. The rest of the room is in mayhem with chairs and tables everywhere, people still shouting as they run for the exits. No one seems to be hurt, however; is it possible this is all just to grab Sherry?

Jake aims the gun and fires at the nearest gunman, hitting him in the chest and sending him to the ground. He takes off in a sprint towards the stage and is met with two more figures, one of which he shoots and the other dispatched with a broken arm and a fist to the jaw. Sherry is gone, but there is commotion behind the curtains, so he leaps up onto the platform and bolts backstage.

There is a long, dark hallway, and he squints in the dim light. Footsteps stomp up ahead, and he hears Sherry’s voice. “Let go of me, asshole!”

“Grab her!”

Jake races ahead and a gunshot goes off. His arm explodes in pain, making him stumble and crash into the wall. He grips his bleeding bicep and looks up to see Sherry struggling with one of the men. The other is on the floor at their feet. Jake grits his teeth against the pain and steps towards them, but Sherry grabs the gun and pulls hard before going down into a crouch to trip him onto the ground. Once he is down she rips the rifle from his hands and hits him between the eyes, the body going still.

She gives him a little kick before swiping her hair out of her eyes. “Jerk,” she mutters.

“Sherry?”

Jake’s voice catches her attention. Incredibly, she smiles, as if she wasn’t nearly just kidnapped and took out two armed men, and slings the rifle over her shoulder before hurrying to him. “Jake!” she cries. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” he growls. He narrows his eyes at the two on the ground. “Who are they?”

“I don’t know yet. We gotta get out of here.” She grabs his arm and he hisses, and Sherry frowns when she pulls back her hand to find it red. “Are you hurt? Jake!”

“It’s fine. Come on, there’s gotta be an exit.”

They make their way down the hall to a room at the end, thankfully empty. They continue through the dark and empty rooms, easily slipping back into their former roles as Jake takes point and Sherry follows. More gunshots are heard on the other side of the building, and within minutes there are sirens outside and the sound of a helicopter overhead. “Guess word got out,” he says.

“Bunch of amateurs,” she mutters, and when Sherry follows her assessment with a snort, Jake can’t help but grin.

They turn a corner and run into three more. Neither waste any time as Jake takes out the first one as Sherry gets the second. The third retreats and they follow, chasing him along the hallway until he crashes through a door with an exit sign overhead.

Moments later they reach the door and once through it they find themselves in a little pathway between buildings. “Come on,” she says, and Jake follows as she jogs back towards the entrance.

There are police squads there already, the attendees mulling around the ambulances and several of the assailants being marched out in handcuffs. Police turn and start shouting orders, and Jake follows Sherry’s lead when she puts her hands up. “Sherry Birkin, DSO,” she calls.

They are briefly taken into custody and questioned, but when it’s clear that they aren’t with the group—and that Sherry might have been the target—they are given medical attention after handing over their weapons. Sherry is fine other than some bruises, but Jake sits on the back of an ambulance as a nurse gives him stitches when she finds him again.

“Had to give like a hundred statements, but they’re letting us go,” she says as she walks up. “How are you holding up?”

“Just a graze. I’ll live. They were terrible shots.”

“They were, weren’t they?” she agrees, then starts to laugh.

Jake joins her but stiffens a bit as the nurse finishes the last stitch. “Watch it,” he growls, and she shoots him a look before packing up her gear. Once she’s gone, Jake stretches his shoulder, testing how sore his arm is.

“You good?” Sherry asks.

“I’ve had worse.”

She steps up to take a look, and Jake swallows when her fingers pull back the ruined sleeve of his shirt so she can assess the stitches. “Not too bad,” she murmurs. “Need gauze?”

“Nah, I got it.” But he doesn’t move as her touch slides gently over his arm, the skin tender and raw under her fingertip.

When she leans in and gives a soft blow of air across the cut, he jumps. “What’re you doing?” he exclaims.

Sherry smiles. “I remember when I was growing up, my dad would take me to the park sometimes. Not often, but when he did I would always get hurt somehow.” She leans in and blows again across the wound. “One time I needed stitches, and since he was a scientist he knew how to do it. Afterwards he would blow on my skin and give a kiss to make it feel better.”

Somehow it does feel a bit better, but the closeness starts to make Jake sweat. “Yeah,” he says lamely.

She replaces the sleeve and leans up to kiss his cheek. Jake jerks back in surprise, his mouth falling open as she laughs again. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she says.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

It’s their final day in Greece, both having flights the next morning back to where they came from. They spend the better part of the day at the police station giving more information, and then Sherry has a video conference with the DSO. Turns out the party crashers were a group for hire after Sherry after all, although what organization was behind it remained to be seen. From what they gathered from the investigation they were paid in cash for a kidnap, and didn’t know who was behind the broker.

Sherry is a bit deflated when she gets off the call. “Looks like I’ll be grounded for a bit when I get back,” she sighs. Jake looks over from where he stands at the window, watching people walking below the hotel. “Until they find out who is after me, anyway. Probably for my stupid blood.”

She rubs her arm and Jake tries to think of something to say. He’s in the same kind of boat, carrying around antibodies he didn't ask for. Somebody at any time could decide they wanted a piece of either of them, and not for the first time he curses how unfair it all is, the two of them victims of their fathers' stupid ambitions.

But as always, Sherry takes a deep breath and puts on a smile. "Do you want a drink?" she asks. "I'm dying for a drink."

"You think that's a good idea?"

He raises his brows but Sherry nods. "Yeah. Did you find a bar during your travels?"

They end up at a little pub not far from the hotel that is thankfully small and free of tourists. They take a table and Jake orders two beers, but Sherry shakes her head. "We're in Greece, we're doing ouzo," she insists.

That makes him laugh. "You ever have it? It's pretty strong."

"I can handle it," she says. "Trust me."

The corner of his mouth goes up as he nods. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say."

It's a great night, better than the others in Greece. It seems like there’s always a million things to share with her, and Sherry is warm and funny and laughs at his lame jokes. Jake thinks he could spend all night here, talking to her like this, but they are barely a bottle in when Sherry starts getting tipsy. "You better slow down," Jake warns her.

"No way," she huffs, pointing a finger at him before she downs another shot. "I'm totally fine."

She pours some more, sloshing a bit on her fingers. "Right," he says dryly.

"You're the one who's hurt," Sherry points out. "If anyone should be taking it easy, it's you."

Jake shakes his head. "I've had a hell of a lot worse than this. Plus this ouzo stuff is nothing."

"Right," she mimics.

"Do you have any other life or death experiences in the works before we leave tomorrow?" he asks. "Because I gotta say, you're two for three now."

Sherry snorts, nearly choking on her drink. "I swear I'm boring! I don't ever get to see that much action. Unless I'm with you."

The comment is innocent, but Jake laughs. "So I'm the only action you're getting, huh?"

Immediately he regrets the joke, his ears burning as she sits up and looks at him in shock. "Jake Muller!" she exclaims. "Are you flirting with me?"

"No," he quickly says.

"You are!" she exclaims. "You're flirting. Wow, I never would have expected it."

"I'm not flirting," he insists.

"Well why not?"

Sherry pouts and he frowns at her. "Huh?"

"You're just... so damn..." Sherry shakes her head and pours another drink, knocking it back before slamming the glass on the table. "So damn respectful."

Respectful is not a word that Jake would ever have put near his name, and he chuckles. "You're drunk."

"I am not."

"Right. And I'm not flirting. Or respectful."

Sherry gives him a slow smile, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. Jake raises his brows, wondering what she's thinking, her eyes bright and shining and her cheeks slightly pink. This is definitely the first time he's seen her inebriated, and Jake suddenly wonders if he's in over his head. "You are respectful," she murmurs. "You haven't tried to kiss me once. Why not?"

"What?"

"Why haven't you ever kissed me? Don't you want to?"

Jake huffs a laugh, rubbing his neck. "All right, I'm cutting you off."

"Hey!"

"And we should get back. It's not exactly safe out here for you."

Sherry pouts, but when he stands she lets him pull her to her feet. "I'm fine as long as I'm with you," she mumbles.

The walk back to the hotel is slower than it should be, as Sherry holds onto him to stay mostly upright. "Wow, you're not drunk at all?" she exclaims, looking up at him.

"Probably because I'm not so tiny," he replies.

"I'm not tiny. I'm tall." Sherry yawns and leans her head on his arm, wrapping both of hers around his. "I'm glad you're here. Who knows what would have happened if you weren't."

"I don't know about that," Jake replies. "You took care of those two on your own. You can kick ass better than most mercenaries."

She finds that hilarious, pressing her face into his shirt. "I do kick ass. Tell that to the DSO. I can kick anyone's ass."

They reach the hotel and Jake helps her to the elevator, and then into her room. Sherry sighs and kicks off her shoes, but doesn't bother with anything else as she slides against the mattress. "You leaving?" she mumbles into the blanket.

"Can't exactly stay here," he says.

She sits up and looks at him. There is only the light from the street outside streaming in the window, as neither had bothered with a lamp. She looks sweet and innocent like this, sitting with her hands behind her on the bed, but her gaze is anything but as she stares at him. Jake's throat goes dry as she blinks at him. "You could, you know."

"Could what?"

"Stay. Want to?"

His heart beats wildly in his chest. Of course the answer is yes, about a thousand times yes, but she's drunk and he's unprepared and Jake knows this would be a huge, colossal mistake, the best mistake of his life. He walks towards her and Sherry looks up, her hair falling back on her shoulders as her lips part.

He strokes her cheek as he makes his decision. "Next time," he says. "I promise."

Sherry opens her mouth to say something, but then she reaches up and grabs his shirt. She's stronger than he expected, and he follows her tug down until her lips seal over his. Jake freezes, letting her kiss him slowly, their mouths remaining chaste as she tilts slightly to slot against his lower lip.

Just a few seconds and then he is easing away, and Sherry sighs and lays back. "Okay," she says sleepily, rolling over. "Next time. I'm too sleepy now."

Jake swallows thickly, watching her for a minute, and when he hears her breathing even he makes a quick escape to go lay awake and curse himself the rest of the night.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

A terrible noise wakes Sherry from a sound sleep, and it takes her a minute to realize it’s her phone. Wincing against the sunlight streaming into her room, she runs her hand along the bed until it bumps the case, and she swipes the call button and brings it to her ear without moving. “Hello?” she mumbles.

“Sherry? It’s Hannigan. You all right?”

“Yeah.” She takes a moment to assess and realize that she is all right, for the most part. “Had a bit to drink last night,” she continues. “What’s going on?”

“Your flight is moved up to this afternoon. There’s an FBI agent who is going to accompany you back to New York.”

“Great.” Sherry rolls to her side, half expecting to see Jake on the other end of the bed. Did she really ask him to stay, or was that a dream? “Anything else?”

“Nope. Have a safe flight.”

Sherry hangs up without saying goodbye and turns to lay on her back. As she studies the ceiling she runs the night before through her head, cringing at the way she flirted with Jake and insisted that he do the same. Groaning, she remembers asking him to say, demanding to know why he didn’t flirt. He had taken offense to being called respectful, and then she had kissed him? Sherry winces again as she buries her face in the pillow, her cheeks flaring with heat.

What is wrong with her? There is no way that Jake is interested; if he was, he would have made a move long ago. Plus, she is a DSO agent at a conference, not on a single’s vacation. Not to mention it would break like forty rules at the agency. Not to mention they don’t even live in the same hemisphere. Not to mention she is ninety-nine percent sure she’s not the type of girl an ex-mercenary would go for. Not to mention she invited him to a conference and almost got him killed.

Not exactly girlfriend material. They’re friends, nothing more, as long as she hasn’t ruined things.

Probably not, knowing him; Sherry wasn’t exaggerating when she called him respectful. She hauls herself from her bed and takes a quick shower before getting dressed and packing her things. Her phone beeps with her new itinerary, and as she makes herself coffee in the room she debates on what to say to Jake.

By the time she’s ready she’s running a bit behind, so Sherry decides not to think as she wheels her suitcase behind her into the hallway. She turns to head to Jake’s room to say goodbye but is surprised to see him in the hallway as well, pulled up short with his pack on his back and carrying his case.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey.”

Sherry swallows and nods to his case. “You heading out?”

“Yeah. I got a job and need to catch a train. I was going to come say goodbye…”

She looks down at her own suitcase. “My flight was changed. I’m heading out now too.”

“Should we walk down together then?”

Sherry smiles in surprise and nods. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

It’s quiet on the ride down the elevator. Occasionally she glances over and up, trying to assess his mood, but Jake wears the same stoic expression he always does. He doesn’t seem mad or anything, so maybe things aren’t as weird as she had imagined they would be?

They each check out and head through the lobby to the taxi stand. Her heart is beating wildly, wondering what to say. This could be the last goodbye they have for a while, and up until this morning she had figured she’d try to make some tentative plans. That was before she threw herself at him, though.

The doorman steps out to find her a taxi when Jake turns to her. She notices the sweat on his brow as he says, “Listen, about last night—”

“No! No, that was…” Sherry laughs nervously as she waves her hand. “You were right. I cannot handle my ouzo. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It was…” Jake gives a long sigh. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“I’m not! As long as you’re not?” He shakes his head and her shoulders slump in relief. “Good. Then let’s just forget about it. And don’t let me near ouzo anymore.”

He opens his mouth as a taxi pulls up, and Sherry looks over as the doorman opens the passenger side door. “This is me,” she says. “Thanks for coming… I know it wasn’t what we expected, but it was good to have company. Your company.”

Jake seems a bit bewildered, so she gives him a quick, awkward hug before turning to the car. But his hand on her arm stops her, and Sherry feels him tug her backwards until his arms fold around her and his mouth covers hers.

It’s nothing like the kiss last night: the respectful Jake who had remained still as she drunkenly tried to kiss him is gone, replaced by this Jake who knows exactly what he’s doing. His lips slide along hers as they fall open, his tongue quickly dipping inside to taste her as she gasps. She feels his palms against her lower back, his fingers spreading along her backside, and she grips his shirt to tug him closer before returning the kiss. It’s hot and passionate and leaves Sherry a bit dizzy when he dives in for round two.

Her lips feel almost swollen when he pulls away. His expression is the same, just a bit softer, and Sherry bites her lower lip as if to remember the feeling of his on hers.

The doorman clears his throat and Jake shoots him a look. “Relax,” he snaps before turning back to gaze at Sherry. “I meant it,” he says. “Last night. Next time, okay?”

“Yeah.” He lets her go slowly and she steps back, her throat dry and chest tight. “Next time.”

Jake gives her a smile and turns to walk down the street, and Sherry watches him go before she quickly jumps into the taxi, wracking her brain to try to remember what he promised for next time.

#resident evil #re #jake x sherry #sherry birkin #jake muller #oneshot #fanfiction #three to one

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