I PMed some of you guys... and I was surprised with your responses. You want a sequel? Here is that sequel. By the way... my new OC is with Chris. Its not a ChrisxOc. I'm not even good at writing romance. Besides... my OC wouldn't be good for Chris. So... don't flame me. My OC is the opposite side of me. Well... you'll see. I'll try to make her cool, without her being a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: I don't own RE, just my OC.

By the way... I suck at beginnings. And my OC will take Sheva's place.

XX

A silver Hummer drove smoothly into the airport parking lot. Chris looked around the airport, the sun shining brightly above him. People were rushing into it, and rushing out. This was the place. Chris slammed the car door behind him, and put on his sunglasses that were in his pocket. Chris looked around; no sight of the partner the BSAA had assigned him with.

Partner...

Flashes of unwanted memories filled the marksmen's mind, and he shook his head to get rid of them.

Chris sighed, and walked to the door, trying not to bump into the people around him.

Chris was prepared for this. He was assigned to find, and arrest, a salesmen who had been illegally selling bio-weapons on the black markets in Africa. Originally, a women named Sheva was supposed to aid Chris with his mission. The BSAA then decided to sent in a more experienced member for Chris. A simple task really, but where was his partner? Chris walked into the airport doors, and took his sunglasses off. He looked around.

Where was she?

Chris looked around, but only saw people sitting down in the lobby, and people buying their tickets. Chris already had his. With a sigh, the marksmen sat down in a chair. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, and checked the time. With a groan, Chris flipped his phone shut, and put it away. Chris looked around.

Damn, I can't even remember her name... Chris groans to himself.

Chris looked around, and mumbled a curse. Chris leaned in the back of the chair, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. He ran his hand over his forehead, and sighed.

"Damnit, where are you..." Chris groaned to himself.

"Hey jackass, move!" Chris whips his head up, as he hears a female voice coming from the entry.

A women with lavender hair, no doubt dyed, is all cut up. It looks like she just woke up, her hair is everywhere, and a thick strand covers one of her eyes. Both her arms are spiked with long like sleeves, she is wearing black leather gloves with spiked knuckles, baggy jeans that are black, with red streaks going through it. Her shirt has smily faces on it, but the eyes are Xs, and the mouth is squiggly. It looks like the smilies are high, or drunk. On the front of the shirt, it says: "Nirvana".

Chris has never been more disgusted. Just another punkass teen. Where was his partner at? Why was she taking so damn long? What was even more of a surprise is when the woman approached him.

Trying not to be rude, Chris asked; "Can I help you with something?"

The woman crossed her arms.

"I'm looking for a man named Chris. Chris Redfield." the woman stated.

Chris got a better look at her. Her eye, the one that wasn't covered, was blue. She has freckles that went across her nose, black eyeliner that was all across the uncovered eye, how did he miss that, and her hair was greasy. Chris could tell, by how the light hit it. She didn't look sloppy; she looked like she wanted to dress that way. It made Chris cringe a little, but tried not to show it. Her hair wasn't even past her shoulders; it touched her neck, and looked what people called; "Gothic" or "Emo". It was common for Chris to see people look like this, but he never wanted a front row seat. Her skin was as pale as a ghost's. It seemed that this woman didn't go out in the sun much.

"What do you want with Chris Redfield?" Chris asked, not wanting to give his identity away to some punkass.

The woman looked pretty pissed.

"I'm being forced to work with him. I need to find him, now." the woman hissed.

Chris's eyebrows raised in confusion, and disgust.

"I'm Chris."

The woman's brows raised in disbelief. She throws her arms up into the air;

"Gaaaahhh!" she groans in frustration.

"What's wrong with you?" Chris asked.

Chris should've known better. She didn't want to work with him, as he didn't want to work with her.

I know we just met, but geez, I'm not as bad as she thinks.

After that thought, Chris mentally slapped himself. He judged her before they even got to really meet.

The woman sighed, and turned to face Chris.

She pointed towards the entry doors; "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you? I was out in that damned parking lot, sweating my Goddamned ass off for at least twenty, Goddamned minutes!" the woman spat, causing some people to stare.

What, was she on her period? The woman was flipping out!

"Listen to me, Redfield, if we're going to get along, you do what I say. I don't take shit from anyone, and I'm certainly not going to take shit, from a guy who is clearly taking steroids!" she kept screaming at Chris like a drill sargent.

Chris jerked his head back in disbelief. Chris never took any steroids. He had worked out at the gym regularly, but never took steroids. Sure, some of the guys offered some to him, but never actually took them.

Chris sighed, and tried to be polite without being frustrated; "You know, your getting alot of looks..." Chris began with an inside voice.

The woman was about to say something, but looked around. He was right; people were looking. As soon as they saw the woman turn, they fled or looked away.

She sighed, and took a deep breath; "I'm Denya. Denya Ripp."

Chris sighed in relief, and held out his hand.

The woman looked at Chris's hand. She slowly held her own out, and gripped it firmly.

"I'm a bitch, Redfield, get used to it." Denya said with a slight smile.

Chris couldn't help but chuckle. Denya jerked her hand back, and her body tensed up, as an announcer fuzzed into the airport lobby. Chris was taken by surprise, she tensed up so quickly. Denya put a hand over her heart and mumbled; "Nearly gave me a Goddamn heart attack."

"All flights to Kijuju will be leaving in fifteen minutes. Again, all flights to Kijuju will be leaving in fifteen minutes." the announcer blared.

Denya looked a bit panicked.

"Ah shit, I need my snacks!" she said, running away from Chris, and down the lobby.

Chris was about to call for her, but she stopped at the end of the hallway, putting multiple dollar bills into a snack machine.

Chris couldn't help but chuckle, and walk into the hallway that led outside, and into the plane. As Chris walked down, rapid footsteps were heard behind him, and Denya burst past Chris with a whole bunch of junk food in her arms.

"Wait up!" Chris called from behind, and started to run after Denya.

I meet my new partner, and shes already playing leader.

Chris made him way into the plane, and Denya was already in a window seat, in the middle section.

Chris walked up to her, and took his seat. He sat down with a sigh, and buckled in. He leaned back in his chair, and stared at Denya, who was looking through the window with unease.

"First time flying?" Chris asked.

Denya shook her head; "No. I'm just afraid..."

Chris raised a brow.

"Afraid of what?"

"Heights." Denya answered.

Chris put his hand on her shoulder, but she pushed it away.

"Sorry, I was just trying to-"

"Attention passengers," the announcer interrupted Chris, and caused Denya to jump, "We are leaving in five minutes. Please buckle down at this time, it will take twelve hours to reach the final destination. Thank you." the announcer finished.

Denya took in a deep breath, and pulled an iPod Touch from her pocket. She jammed the earpieces in both her ears, and closed her eyes.

Chris peeked at what she was listening to; Mindless Self Indulgence. Chris tried to get a look at what song, as the writing was tiny, and made it out. Prescription. Chris had heard of the band when his sister, Claire, had played it when she was depressed, or stressed out. Chris had never actually payed attention to Claire's music, but never knew Denya was into it. Then again... Chris really didn't know anything about Denya.

You'd better be one kickass partner, Denya.

XX

Oh, my God, that was so much fun to write! I hoped you liked it, and I would've posted this earlier, but I was playing my Nintendo 64. Ahh... sweeeettt memories. DK64... and Banjo Kazooie. Does anyone remember those good ole games? I will seriously hug you if you do. And... flames will be used to heat my sorry ass in the winter time. =w=

~Saiyan Werewolf