Frantically, Alex ran out of the room. He quickly hopped up the stairs in the direction he thought Lara had gone, and sharply turned the corner only to be met with the barrel of a gun. Instinctively, Alex raised his hands in the air and stood, awaiting his fate.

"I told you, Alex, never cross me."

He heard Lara speak to him, but his thoughts were on the 9mm poised in the air, aimed at his head.

"Lara, it was a stupid thing to do, it really was. I'll never do it again."

"I don't trust you." Lara said matter-of-factly. Her body showed no signs of sympathy either. Alex was in pure panic.

"Lara, I'm not asking you to trust me. I mean, that would be nice, but right now, I'm asking you to spare me!" His eyes were large and full of angst; he heard the hammer click. Lara had disarmed the gun. Alex thought he had never heard a sweeter sound. He un-squinted his eyes and saw a slender finger pointed at him.

"Spare you? I've spared you enough. Now, why don't you spare me from your pettiness?"

"Lara, please." Alex stepped toward her, and the gun appeared again.

"This conversation is over." She spat at him as she watched him look over her gun. She was beginning to tire of him, she felt as if she could sleep, for the first time in months, and he was an obstacle that she just couldn't get to move.

"Lara," she glared back at him as he spoke to her again, "don't be silly. We both know that you wouldn't shoot me."

He looked her straight in the eye, immediately wishing that he hadn't done so.

"Is that so?" Lara asked too sweetly. Terrified as he was, Alex kept his ground firm.

"Yeah," He replied.

Almost in an instant, he heard the click of the hammer, and a treacherous pain in his right leg forced him to cry out in shock. His body slumped to the floor as two slamming doors were heard: Hillary's and the front door where Bryce had entered.

Hillary, armed with his shotgun, inspected the area before he carefully ran over to Lara. Bryce did likewise, but without the cautiousness.

"Blimey, Lara! What the devil happened?" Bryce and Hillary gaped at Alex as he clutched his wounded leg.

"Mr. West here thought he was going to steal the Amulet of Ilse."

Hillary glared at the quivering Alex and then back to Lara, "So you shot him?"

Lara heard Bryce titter. "Bloody hell! Hillary, he knows not to steal from Lara! After the prayer wheels and all, you'd think he wouldn't try to steal the... uh... What's that again? Amulet of..."

"Ilse," Lara stated shortly.

"Ah, yes."

illary rolled his eyes as Bryce pretended he knew what was going on.

Now everyone's attention was on the sobbing Alex West.

Hillary sighed. "I suppose we'll need to be getting that bullet out of him."

"Yeah," Bryce agreed, "and then let Lara finish him off!" Lara glared at Bryce, but couldn't help but crack a small smile at her goofy friend.

"Now Lara," Hillary reappeared around the corner, "I suggest that you get some sleep now that the burglar has been caught. We'll leave him for you to deal with in the morning." Lara nodded at Hillary as he turned back around the corner to drag Alex to a different room.

"Yeah, and remember," Bryce almost whispered, "Simon's in the office." He gave her a mischievous wink and skipped down the stairs and out the front door.

Lara made her way back to her room. "Why was he after the amulet?" She wondered this until she finally fell into the first dreamless sleep she had had in months.

The next day brought the smell of waffles and Bryce's unmistakable techno music. Lara opened her eyes and stretched as she pulled herself out of bed. She placed the dagger that she always slept with underneath her pillow and gracefully made her way downstairs for breakfast.

"Ah, good morning, Lara! And what a lovely morning it is."

Lara smirked as Hillary pulled out a chair for her at the huge dining table. Hillary always greeted her the same way every morning. A cheery smile followed by his "trademark" saying was more than routine. Though Lara had abolished all routine in her life, for fear of boredom and confinement, she enjoyed the daily "good mornings" that Hillary said to her after she awoke.

"Where's that bloody West?" Lara heard as the door slammed and the ever-charming Bryce entered the house.

Hillary stomped around the corner. "When you're quite finished at the circus, master Bryce, would you please sit down for breakfast?"

Lazily, Bryce obeyed and Lara laughed at him. "You know not to disrupt Hillary's meals, Bryce!"

The tech smiled sheepishly. "But you know I can't resist! He just gets so bloody miffed!" Bryce threw up his hands innocently just as a man stumbled around the corner.

The room fell silent, and the smile on Lara's face faded as Alex escorted himself into the dining room and sat at the farthest point from Lara. Hillary entered the room with plates hanging from his like ornaments on a Christmas tree.

"Ah, Mr. West, nice to see you moving again." He stole a quick glance at Lara. "You're just in time for breakfast." Hillary's voice was usually dripping with cheeriness, but now it was adorned with sarcasm. Lara was too fixated on Alex to comment on Hillary's change.

The meal commenced in silence. About ten minutes after a few compliments to Hillary, and asking for more to drink and such, Lara rose from the table. In respect, Hillary rose from his chair, nudging Bryce in the ribs, hinting for him to do the same. Only stopping from devouring his food for a moment, Bryce quickly stood up halfway, then promptly sat back down and began shoveling Eggs Benedict into his black hole of a mouth again, much to Hillary's chagrin.

As soon as Lara left the room, Alex pushed himself out of his chair and limped in her direction.

"I told you so, didn' I?" Bryce's words were muffled with egg, sausage, and muffin.

"Told me, Master Bryce? I believe I informed you that..."

"Well, it doesn't matter now."

"No, sir," Hillary nodded in agreement.

"Well, better get to work!" Bryce exclaimed heartily as he rubbed his satiated stomach.

Hillary rolled his eyes. "You call fiddling with your tinker-toys work?" Bryce looked up at Hillary with wide eyes filled with shock.

"The art, which is tinkering, takes great skill, oh master of maids!"

"Why you..." Hillary started, but Bryce ran out of the room. Hillary called after him:

"I'll have you know that I am not a maid! And I resent the fact that you would imply that! Cleaning is an art. It takes great skill in detecting mold, scrubbing floors..."

Bryce tuned out the rambling butler as he entered the office, or the "Tinkering Room" as he so lovingly called it. He scanned the room with his hands on his hips and a broad smile on his face. In a corner, Simon was displayed in his full glory, his body propped up by his two bottom legs, as his other four posed menacingly. Bryce took a lot of pride in Simon. It was his first robot that stood a chance against an angry Lara with firearms. Bryce walked more into the room and sat in his chair.

"Okay," he said, "what's on the agenda for today?"