Well, here we are, back again. Happy now, Godavari?! ;-) Nearly finished - events are working up to something. Something...end-ish.
===============================================================
Bryce and Kurtis were rarely seen for the majority of that day. Even when standing in their presence, it was hard to pinpoint them due to the perpetual darkened nature of their surroundings, light having a vampire-like effect on their alcoholically indulged bodies. I'd tried to turn on Bryce's bedroom light when going to ask whether he could face lunch or not, but he yelled in protest and hid himself firmly under the bedclothes, refusing to come out until his head stopped feeling like it was 'being trodden on'. Kurtis was a little more macho about the whole affair, instead choosing to languish in a recliner in the lounge with the light off and the curtains drawn, only subtly protesting when noise much louder than a lowered voice invaded his senses.
They emerged in time for dinner that evening, Kurtis popping a couple of aspirins discreetly and Bryce drinking water like a fish, but otherwise fully recovered. After the meal, punctuated only by slight conversation in which Hillary happily took a holier than thou attitude with Bryce about the repercussions of heavy drinking, I made my way to my firing range, stopping on the way there to collect my pistols.
I picked off the targets one by one, taking my time, my objective being to practise my sniping rather than my well-honed ability to aim subconsciously and quickly on larger targets. I was doing well, but had yet to hit one fully centrally, and as I came to my last target I concentrated that little bit harder to try and make this shot my best. It was because of this heightened focus that I didn't hear the approaching footsteps on the gravel behind me, and I jumped visibly, shocked out of my wits, when a bullet whistled over my shoulder and hit the final target.
I spun, aiming my weapon reflexively, but dropped it and sagged, clutching my pounding heart when I was met with Kurtis. Standing casually with his weight on one leg and his gun held loosely at his side, he smiled sardonically.
"Would'a thought you'd be more used to that."
Sauntering past me, grinning infuriatingly, he walked the hundred yards to the targets with impressive ease, and if it hadn't been for his annoyingly self-assured behaviour, I'd have been happy to note that he was obviously recovering well. After a moment I followed him, only to find him holding the last target with an arrogant grin on his face as he surveyed a perfect bull's-eye. He kissed the barrel of his pistol and waved the target at me, still smiling vainly. I snatched the paper out of his hand and scowled.
"It's a talent," he sighed, flicking an errant strand of hair out of his face.
"I suggest you wipe that smug look off your face before I do," I said dryly, replacing the target and removing the clips from my weapons.
I moved back to the starting line to put my guns away and refused to meet Kurtis' eyes as he leant on the opposite side of the obstacle course vaulting horse I'd been using as a table, trying to look at me underneath the hair falling around my face.
"Ah, come on, you're not a sore loser are you?"
I glared and he smiled crookedly, standing up straight and folding his arms. I wasn't sure what had changed, but here was a sudden return to the overly confident swaggering Kurtis that I had crossed paths with in Paris. A part of me found it attractive, another part of me wanted to hit him. Any woman who'd met a man of that disposition would understand what I meant.
"Actually," he said, his face becoming serious and his stance becoming a little less flirtatious, "I came out here to talk."
"About?" I said, far more open to this Kurtis after our time in Europe than I would normally be to a so arrogant a man. I leant back against another part of the obstacle course and folded my arms, more a movement of physical comfort than one of negative body language.
"How are you dealing lately?"
"I'm ok." I nodded, confirming my words.
Kurtis moved to lean next to me, mirroring my own stance. We both turned our heads to look at each other.
"What about Werner?"
"I'm ok. I think he was dead to me long ago."
"Egypt?"
"Before that. I think he always resented that I left him to get himself out of a sticky situation in Cambodia, but I was only a child. We had a few happy years working together, but it got worse as I overtook him, as he got older and I reached my prime, until he chased me across Egypt and left me to die."
"Revenge?"
"No, I don't think so. Maybe his old age made him save himself as much as my youth did. Either way, I never listened to his guilty pleas for reconciliation, and that leaves me feeling guilty now that he's dead. But I'm ok." My voice had become small as I opened up about my feelings and the ever painful subject of Egypt, and my head bowed to the floor.
"And everything else?"
At the change of subject I recomposed myself, straightening up and putting the previous feelings out of my mind.
"Alright," again I nodded, "I'm feeling better about things. The training's helping. Thanks for talking me back into it."
"You're welcome."
Kurtis slung an arm around my shoulder and we headed back towards the house, the gathering dusk rendering outside activities unsuitable. Walking back over the gravel pathways, slowly and in time, his arm still around my shoulders in a friendly gesture, I breathed in the crisp air as a comfortable evening chill began to settle. In a few minutes it would become too cold to be enjoyable, but we had plenty of time to reach the safety of the house.
"How are things for you, Kurtis?" I asked, swinging my gun case at my side.
"Still hard," he said, his manner not betraying the truth of the words as we continued to stroll casually, "but I'll come to terms. Eventually. This is helping." He gestured to the house and grounds, obviously indicating more than just the immediate surroundings, and I smiled.
"I'm glad we can help."
"Bryce wants us to go to a club tomorrow."
"Really? That's a rare event in the Croft household, but I'm up for it."
"Cool."
We reached the front door and Kurtis leant forward to open it with his free hand, guiding me in, in front of him. We peeled off in the hallway, Kurtis announcing that he was going to exercise for a while, and I starting off to put away my weapons.
As I reached the training arena where the weapons were stored, I spotted Bryce hunched over the computers, frowning.
"Everything ok?" I asked, shelving my gun case and locking the cupboard back up.
"I thought I'd got rid of that virus, but something here isn't right. The computers are just acting a bit, well, off." He didn't look up, and I casually approached him with an air of boredom.
"How do you mean?"
"Mmm, programs don't always open, windows minimise, something's slowing down the processors...something just doesn't sit right."
"I'm sure you'll fix it," I said, ruffling Bryce's hair. "Do you want something to eat?"
He glanced up, flashing me a smile. "Yeah, a sandwich'd be nice, thanks."
I walked to the kitchen with bored heavy steps, considering what to do with the rest of my evening after I'd fed Bryce. That was the trouble with returning home after a mission – you never quite knew how to handle the quiet.