Chapter Text
When Diana Blackwood walked into the Raccoon City Police Department, she looked like a wet cat. It was pouring with rain and the clouds were as black as a raven. It had only started raining so hard at around 6 pm. Sometimes it rained more, sometimes less. It had been pouring for almost half an hour. Diana cursed the night shift. The entrance area of the RPD was surprisingly empty. It was almost eerie for a Tuesday evening, but then again, who would want to leave the building voluntarily in such a storm?
Shivering slightly, she walked through the Main Hall and greeted Marvin Branagh, who was apparently also on the night shift tonight. When Diana took a quick look at the clock, she realized that it was already 7:50 pm. She wondered why she hadn't seen Chris at reception. When Marvin was on the night shift, the two of them often talked for a long time and Diana usually had to lure him away. Then she wondered if she had seen his car somewhere outside, but who would have paid attention to anything other than getting into the building in this storm?
Diana was more than relieved when she reached the S.T.A.R.S. changing rooms. At last she could put on dry clothes. It was pleasantly quiet in the women's changing room, which was only used by her, Rebecca Chambers from Bravo Team and Jill Valentine. There was hardly any noise from outside either, but that didn't bother Diana. On the contrary, she liked the night shift best because it was always so quiet and peaceful there.
When the S.T.A.R.S. member opened her locker, she took a quick look inside. It contained a change of clothes, a few books, food of course, her uniform and a blanket that she had put in there for the night shifts. Sighing briefly, she took out the uniform. How she would love to be at home in bed right now...
Diana entered the office just a few minutes later and Barry Burton came straight to meet her. The poor man was working the late shift today, even though it was his daughter's birthday. “Hey Barry,” Diana greeted the older man and smiled at him.
She really liked Barry. He was like a father to her. Actually, he was to the whole team. Diana didn't have a father. Not any more. He died when she was little. She didn't have many memories of him. Even the memories of her mother faded with time. The brunette was also honestly grateful that the wounds were slowly closing.
“Hey, Diana. Has the weather gotten worse outside?” Barry asked, taking a step back so he could get a better look at her. His lips curled into a smile. “Oh, yes. I got soaking wet on the way from the car to the door. How was the shift?” Diana replied, leaning against the doorframe. Barry sighed slightly.
“All hell broke loose here at lunchtime and in the early afternoon. There was always something going on, we had to go out all the time, we had ads or the phone was ringing. That fucking thing. Brad was about to break it, but I managed to stop him. Since it started raining, hardly anyone comes here anymore. Even the phone goes silent sometimes,” says Barry and walks past her outside. Diana turned to him. “I hope your shift will be a little quieter.” Just as Diana was thanking him and wishing him a good night, something occurred to her. “Do you know about Chris?” Barry's face turned apologetic. “Oh, I see. Chris called. His car didn't start. He'll be a little late.”
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“A little later” was an understatement. It was well after half past eight. Diana had been sure that they would now have to spend the service alone. Barry had been right. The phone was dead. Every now and then there was a knock on the door when someone from the Bravo team wanted to pick something up. Otherwise, Black was alone. Not that she minded.
She was finally able to finish writing the outstanding reports. The only sounds outside were the rustling of the blankets, the raindrops pattering against the window panes, the occasional thunder and the typing on Diana's keyboard.
It thundered from time to time, but nothing really bad. Diana actually liked weather like this, but she preferred it when she didn't have to leave the house.
The phone rang. It rang first in Wesker's office. She could hear it clearly, as the door to Wesker's office was not closed. Sighing loudly, Diana got up and closed the office door. She had no intention of entering his office. Before taking her seat again, she placed a pile of documents on Brand's desk, which she had requested days before. They had been on morning duty together the week before and had been on a mission there. Wesker now requested the report and Brad... was Brad, so Diana had to write the report.
Then the phone rang at Barry's place. Diana quickly went to hers and sank into the chair. Then, with calm movements, she transferred the call to her phone. When it rang, she picked it up.
“RPD S.T.A.R.S. department - you're speaking to Blackwood. How can I help you?” Diana spoke calmly and clearly. She grabbed a pen and a notepad. In the background from the other side, the member of the special unit could hear rustling and clinking. “This is Dr. Birkin. Is Mr. Wesker still on the ward?” a male voice asked her directly.
Dr. William Birkin often called here. Diana thought he was an acquaintance of her boss. If not a friend. Sometimes a woman called, who was usually very angry and upset. She called herself Dr. Annette Birkin when she introduced herself.
“Mr. Wesker went home over two hours ago. But I can leave him a message for tomorrow morning,” the woman explained, writing down the scientist's name. But Birkin immediately refused. “I'll call him at home. Have a good evening,” he said and immediately hung up. Diana stared at the phone in confusion and then put it down. “What a nice man...” Diana mumbled and tore off the note. She wrote little notes under the note “Call Dr. Birkin for Wesker” with the time. She put the note in her trouser pocket and pretended that nothing had ever happened.
The next moment, Diana could hear heavy footsteps. A sign that she would soon no longer be alone in the office. And as if she had suspected it, Chris pushed the door open. He looked a little out of breath and his hair was still wet. That somehow made him more attractive.
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She had talked to Jill about it once. Although Jill had teased her that she would be a good match for Chris. And although Diana didn't quite agree with her, as she didn't think Chris wasn't interested in her. In fact, she believed he was more interested in Jill and who could blame him?
Jill was more attractive than she was. Besides, their clothing styles were quite different. While Jill tended to dress more “revealing”, Diana's style of dress was more... “maternal”. Cardigans were the real deal. So if Chris had the choice, he would certainly choose Jill. Besides, they had both had more services together.
Diana smiled. “You're on time. That's record-breaking,” Diana said wryly, earning a snort from Redfield. “I was expecting you to welcome me with a hot coffee,” he said with a grin and settled into his seat right next to Diana. “Was what?”
Diana thought about it. What should she say? That Forest and Richard had been here no less than five times in the thirty minutes since she'd been on duty? Or that she occasionally heard shoes with heels stomping on the floor in the corridors? Brain Irons' secretary was probably working overtime for him again.
“No. It was nothing. Nobody's going out because of the storm and the phone hardly ever rings,” Diana replied and turned back to her work. Chris didn't say anything at first. “I could have stayed at home.” While he looked out of the window, lost in thought, the brunette continued to work on her reports.
She deliberately didn't mention the call from Birkin.
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While the storm was getting worse outside, Chris and Diana had retreated to the office of the elite S.T.A.R.S. unit. While Chris searched outside for something Diana had no idea what it was, Diana read a book. A cup of cocoa steamed next to her. She enjoyed the silence. No calls came in and, as Barry had said, everyone seemed to retreat to their homes during the storm.
A loud bang echoed through the darkness of the night, startling Diana. She stared out of the window for a moment and pulled the blanket closer to her. “I didn't know you were so scared. Afraid of thunderstorms?” came from the door, and without having to look, Diana felt the fat grin on Chris's face. “I was just too engrossed in my book ... Where have you been?” she asked, turning around. Then she sighed. “Where did you get that now?”
Everyone knew that the RPD used to be a museum. Everyone knew that there were exhibits in some unused side rooms and storerooms. But since when did the RPD have a TV cabinet on wheels?
Chris grinned proudly. “I found it on my last shift with Jill. I don't know who it belongs to, but no one seems to be missing it,” he said, setting it down where they could see it. While Chris started to turn on the TV, Diana stood up. “I'll let you do the honors of turning it on,” she said, and without responding to Chris' comment, which he quickly called after her, Diana left the office.
It was still quiet in the corridors when Diana left the ladies' room. It had been eerily quiet. Diana was all the more surprised when she saw a person in a black coat walk past. She couldn't identify the person directly, but from her stature she assumed it must be a woman. She had seen the coat somewhere before. For a moment, Diana ventured the guess that it could be a man's coat. But who had she ever seen a coat like this on before? The coat seemed a little too big for the person.
As the person took a few steps, Diana heard the clacking of heels. It had to be Irons' secretary, who had finally finished work. “Have a good day, Ms. Smith,” Diana said, but the person didn't turn around, just kept walking. Diana found the behavior strange, but perhaps Ms. Smith was stressed and hadn't answered. Diana decided to go back to Chris and see if he had turned on the TV.
When Diana re-entered the office, she thought briefly about Ms. Smith's behaviour, but immediately dismissed her thoughts when she saw that the television was on. Smiling, she closed the door behind her and glanced at the many VHS tapes on the table. “So, what are we watching?” asked Diana, reaching for a VHS tape. Chris also looked at a few. “Well, yes. It's a strange selection. Lots of horror films, funny comedies and romantic movies. They even have Dirty Dancing here and...” “They've got Dirty Dancing here?” Diana exclaimed excitedly and snatched the VHS tape out of Chris' hand. It immediately brought back fond memories. Probably the first fond ones she'd ever had. “When I was 14 years old, my aunt took me to see this movie,” she said, but her smile faded as the memories continued. “Those were the days...”
In the six months that Chris had known Diana, he knew she didn't like to talk about her family or her home. The pilot knew that his partner was from California and that their family relationships were really complicated. At least that's what she always said. Chris knew of an aunt who had raised her, but she never really mentioned her parents.
Even though he more than respected Diana's privacy, he wanted to know what stones she had to carry. He wanted to be there for her when the past caught up with her and comfort her. Chris liked Diana a lot, and maybe, just maybe, he even had a little crush on her. “Do you want to talk about it?” the soldier asked, seeing Diana's mask crumble a little for a moment. The brief sideways glance she gave him was hurt, slightly sad, and perhaps he could even see a little gratitude in it. Then she rebuilt her façade and just smiled. “It's all right. I don't want to bore you with boring stuff. Shall we watch Dirty Dancing?” Chris watched her for a while longer, looking for Diana's brief display of behavior. “Over my dead body,” he said seriously.
In a bad mood, Chris crossed his arms in front of his chest and nibbled on a cookie. God, how he hated Dirty Dancing ... He'd had to watch that movie with Claire far too often. Diana was sitting right next to him and had snuggled even deeper into her blanket. “Couldn't we have watched Poltergeist?” Chris asked cautiously. “Shut up,” Diana said with a smile and grabbed a cookie. Suddenly the door opened and Diana stared at the person who came in. “Have a quiet shift,” Ms. Smith said with a smile and left the room. She seemed to be bothered by the television. They probably weren't the first people to use the television.
Suddenly Diana thought of the person from earlier. So it wasn't Ms. Smith? Who was this person? Did this person need help and Diana had just abandoned them? But how did she know the coat and who had she seen it on before?