ARGH! Why did nobody tell me that I'd missed out a chapter?! Sorry guys! THIS is chapter 10, the previous (utterly WRONG) chapter 10, is now chapter 11. I cannot believe I missed out a huge chunk! Good job I re-read my own work, eh?
Here ya go, Godavari. chucks drunk and shirtless Kurtis over . Here's another installment, so put the pokey stick away!! ;-)

"How do you feel?" I asked Bryce in a rough voice as I shuffled into the lounge behind him.
"Er, like I'm gonna die," he groaned, falling onto the sofa, his legs getting thrown up into the air before collapsing back down, one on the sofa and one on the floor. I put down my coffee, slowly collected all the cushions off the chairs and sofas, wincing as I lowered my head to stoop to pick them up, and threw them into a disorganised heap on the floor at the free end of Bryce's sofa. I dropped to my knees in the cushions, took another sip of coffee that made me grimace, and buried my head in the seat of the sofa.
"We were so drunk," Bryce pondered, rubbing his forehead with one hand.
"Wasted," I agreed.
"Smashed."
"Totalled."
"Plastered."
Silence followed as we each ran out of synonyms before Bryce came up with, "Tipsy!"
No, no, we were way worse than that. "I think we passed that point somewhere around 2am."
"So, what we were talking about?" Bryce asked before drinking more coffee. He appeared to be enjoying his. Lucky him.
"How drunk we were last night."
"Right," said Bryce, then, realising that I had answered the wrong question, said, "No! I meant, last night." Please - as if I would know.
"Er…" I said, looking up and wincing in the sunlight, trying to think. "Lara?"
"Lara…" Bryce stared at the ceiling as he waited to see if that rang any bells with him. At a loss to know what else we could have been talking about, he accepted my answer. "Yeah, that must have been it."
A few moments later I said, "Why were we talking about Lara?" There was something nagging in my mind that suggested that we had indeed been talking about Lara, and for a good reason, but I'd be damned if I knew.
"I dunno, figured you fancied her."
"Do I?" News to me. At least, it was at that particular moment. I blinked, taken aback.
"Yes?" said Bryce, suggesting he didn't really know what he was talking about either.
The conversation proved one thing.
"Wasted," I stated, before letting my head drop back to the sofa and groaning quietly.
Bryce gave his own groan, louder and more long suffering.
"What?" I said, muffled in the sofa. It bounced as Bryce flipped onto his side and banged his head on the arm.
"I have to fix the bloody computers!" he said, hitting the seat cushion and spilling coffee.
"Why, what's wrong?"
"There was a virus in the system last night, I didn't completely get rid of it before I went upstairs. It's probably going to take all day, and I'm dying."
"You're not dying, Bryce," I countered, "I am." Bryce groaned, so I suggested, "Just leave it. Don't turn the system on so it can't do any more damage until you're ready to fix it, spend the day in the dark. That's what I'm gonna do."
"Dark…" repeated Bryce, apparently very partial to that idea. "Bed…" With that, he drained his coffee mug, crawled off the sofa, and staggered out, probably to bed.

With the help of a darkened room, several aspirins and a lot of gag inducing coffee, I had recovered by the evening. All day, bits and pieces of the previous night had started coming back in flashes. At least it explained why all those cringe worthy personal details had shot into my head when Lara had spoken to me in the kitchen. Oh Lara, I thought to myself, if only you knew… I laughed to myself evilly and decided, armed with a delicious new arsenal of personal information, to go and indulge in that universal form of flirtation - taunting. I grabbed my pistol from the drawer in my room and jogged down the stairs, enjoying my newly returned health now that I was recovering well and no longer paralytic with alcohol.
Creeping up on Lara where she was practising in her firing range, I stalked slowly forward as I brought my weapon up to aim and slowly, quietly pulled the trigger. I had purposefully positioned myself so my shot at the last target on the range brought the bullet within feet of Lara, and I was met with a satisfying reaction. Lara whirled round, reflexively pointing her gun straight at me. Very impressive. Upon seeing me, she dropped the weapon to her side and put one hand to her heart, sighing in relief.
I offset my weight to one leg and let my Boran X fall to my side, grinning.
"Would'a thought you'd be more used to that."
Lara stood, still trying to calm her breathing, giving me a withering look and not looking impressed with my marksmanship. I casually strolled past her down to the targets, plucking the target off the hook and grinning proudly as I saw I'd hit a perfect bullseye. I kissed the barrel of my beloved pistol and waved the paper target at Lara, who had come to stand by me, looking annoyed. She snatched it out of my hand and scowled with a face like thunder as she surveyed my work.
"It's a talent," I announced, flicking my hair out of my face. The cocky routine - women couldn't resist.
"I suggest you wipe that smug look off your face before I do," Lara said, not giving an inch. Thought she was immune to my charms, did she? We'd see.
She clipped the target back up and began to prepare her weapons for their case, moving off back to the start line. I followed her and leant on the vaulting horse she was using as a table, trying to catch her eye. She fixed her gaze resolutely on her weapons with her jaw set.
"Ah, come on, you're not a sore loser are you?"
I was met with an icy stare, and countered it with roguish smile. Her manner remained untouched, so I gave up and instead decided to see if she was feeling ok. She certainly didn't seem to be.
"Actually I came out here to talk," I lied.
"About?"
"How are you dealing lately?"
"I'm ok." I went and stood next to her where she was leaning against a wooden platform, part of the assault course. Turning to look at her, I asked,
"What about Werner?"
"I'm ok. I think he was dead to me long ago." Matter of fact, unemotional.
"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." She sighed, regretful.
"Revenge?" I asked, not understanding his motives.
"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." She looked at the floor, toeing the gravel.
"And everything else?" At this she checked her composure and looked back to me, smiling.
"Alright. I'm feeling better about things. The training's helping. Thanks for talking me back into it."
"You're welcome." I smiled, nodded my head towards the house indicating that we should return, and put a lazy arm around her shoulders as we moved off.
"How are things for you, Kurtis?" Lara asked a few moments later as we approached the house.
Now there was a question.
"Still hard, but I'll come to terms. Eventually. This is helping." I meant the visit, without which I wasn't sure where I'd be. Probably in a backstreet bar in Paris, my city of refuge for the past fifteen years, drinking too much Stella and picking a fight with whomever looked to be a good match. Bitter and angry.
"I'm glad we can help," Lara said.