Glad you're enjoying this so far. :-) I was v happy to see feedback in my inbox once again. I forgot to thank you all for your feedback regarding the end of Home 2: Visit, so I'll do that now. Thanks! I'm thrilled that you all liked it, and I especially loved godavari's and Froline el-Vasper's reviews, which were just too funny. :-D

Small Betrayals

"I still don't get why Lara's selling all of this stuff," Bryce said, eyeing a velvet tray full of small stone, jade and gold Chinese dragons. He placed the tray carefully into an appropriately sized box and taped down the lid, scrawling 'Dragons' on the top with a black marker, and dumped on top of some other boxes.

"Amazing though it may seem, she's beginning to run out of space, and she doesn't look at these things anymore. They're not particularly rare or valuable, so why not auction them off and let someone else enjoy them for a while?" Hillary grabbed a box from Bryce's stack of work and scribbled out the word 'Cat', replacing it with 'Bastet'.

"So, that pile over there is all the stuff for the auction house, and that is the stuff we're keeping."

"Going into storage whilst the security system on the treasure room is overhauled, yes," Hillary confirmed, identifying a clay statuette against a spreadsheet detailing what was to be kept and what was to be auctioned, and what the reserve prices were.

"Right," grunted Bryce as he hefted a stack of boxes off the table, ready to add them to the 'Sale' pile. "To be clear – the stack on the left is for the auction."

"Yes." Well, Hillary's left, anyway. Unfortunately, as they were facing opposite directions, that was not Bryce's left. And so the boxes went on the wrong pile.

The hotel receptionist, a student working his holidays looking uncomfortable in his smart suit and tie, knocked on the hotel room door and looked around nervously, shadowed in the dim corridor.

The door opened and light flooded out, making him blink against the sudden brightness. Mr Dupuis stared blankly at his visitor for a second before placing his face.

"Oh, right. Yeah." He propped the door open with his foot as he turned away to his jacket on a nearby chair and pulled a wad of notes out of the inside pocket. "Here you go, kid." He pressed the cash into the young man's hand, drawing his attention back from where it had rested guiltily on Lara, lounging on the bed with a sullen look on her face.

"Thanks," the kid muttered, turning and hurrying off.

Mr Dupuis – Kurtis – shut the door and crossed back to the other bed in the room where he'd been working on a laptop.

"Obviously the staff here can't be trusted," Lara snarled. "I've a mind to complain."

"All he did was tell me where your room was and when your room service was due. He's a hard up student, leave the kid alone." Kurtis didn't even look up from his computer, tapping a few keys here and there.

Lara sniffed.

The phone let out a shrill ring. Immediately, Lara rolled over and shifted towards the edge of the bed, reaching for the phone next to it. She got her hands on the receiver just in time to see Kurtis placing the receiver of the phone next to the other bed to his ear and cradling it with his shoulder as he continued to work on his computer.

"Yeah," Kurtis said, signalling he'd answered. Still refusing to acknowledge that she was the captive and therefore had a certain lack of rights, Lara nestled her own receiver to her ear and started to listen in.

Kurtis stood and casually began to stroll over to Lara, as the person on the other end said, "Mr Trent. You sold us the merchandise but you didn't let us take delivery." The voice was British, well spoken, matter of fact and businesslike.

Lara didn't hear any more, as Kurtis, reaching his destination, snatched the phone out of her hands and slammed it back down on the cradle. He didn't even spare her a warning glance as he did so, just went and sat on the end of the bed. Lara scowled.

"Well, I was thinking...maybe we could think of our last deal as a deposit."

There was a pause as Kurtis listened to the reply, and then, "I didn't realise how much it was worth to you at the time....five thousand pounds....well, it's large enough to keep me going for a while and small enough that you'll prefer to pay rather than go to the trouble of killing me and stealing it for free – better to get something than nothing, right?....good....no, you'd better let me come along for the ride....hey, I got you what you wanted, I deserve a cut of the action, besides, you'll never handle it alone....ok, we'll talk then....I look forward to it."

"Merchandise?" Lara enquired, politely but cuttingly. Her eyes followed Kurtis unerringly as he stood and went to replace his receiver.

Before he did, he waved it at her, saying, "Didn't anybody ever tell you it was rude to listen in?" The receiver was placed back on the phone meaningfully.

"Again, I ask, 'merchandise'?"

"Nothing that concerns you, go to sleep. We've got a big night ahead of us." He began tapping away on his laptop again.

"Oh we have?" Lara feigned genuine interest, propping her head in her hand.

"Yeah. We have. Sleep. Or do I have to tie you to a chair and gag you?"

"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Kurtis abandoned his computer to stare back at her, his voice showing the beginnings of irritation.

"Nothing," was the sweet reply with only a hint of malice in the accompanying smile.

"Go to sleep," Trent said, acting as if she was so far beneath him. He returned to his computer, the screen tilted too far for Lara to make out what was on it. Punching the pillow and glowering, she did as she was told.

"No, Bryce! Oh...." Hillary shooed Bryce away and started foraging in the pile of boxes upon which Bryce had just laid the final stack of 'sales'. "This is the keep pile! You've got it all wrong! Oh, just go and make some tea!"

Bryce sighed, sick of being blamed for everything. "Fine, fine, I'm going."

He disappeared towards the kitchen, and Hillary, muttering curses, began re-sorting the piles.

"Wake up." Lara's long leather coat fell on top of her, rousing her rudely as the cold lining and heavy weight demanded her senses. She opened her eyes and glared at Kurtis, standing over her, dressed in huge boots and a similar coat to her own. Clearly, they were going out.

"Where are we going?" she demanded, pulling on her coat as she sat up. She glanced at the clock – two thirty in the morning – and cursed herself for sleeping so long and heavily, obviously missing out on an escape opportunity, since Kurtis must have left to get her coat from her room. That thought made her realise that he must have lifted her keycard from her shirt breast pocket, and an unwelcome flush crept onto her cheeks.

Standing, she stood before Kurtis, waiting for him to turn and leave, every look she gave him conveying hatred and challenge. He looked her up and down and for a moment she thought he was checking her out, but then he sighed resignedly and shifted his weight to one leg, folding his arms and giving a dissatisfied glance.

"Tidy yourself up," he said, gesturing as if she had no right to look rumpled after her sleep.

Lara humphed, but did as she was told, smoothing out her clothes and retying her boot laces. She finished, and stood ready for re-inspection. Only Kurtis could treat her like that and get away with it, she thought to herself angrily. Kurtis just sighed again, still unsatisfied, and buttoned up her coat, tying the leather belt around her waist to define her figure.

'I won't accept this, being treated like a child who can't dress themselves," she thought to herself, but somehow she didn't do anything. She still didn't do anything when Trent, deciding that something was missing, turned her around, removed her braid, which admittedly was rather messy after lying down, and roughly dragged her hairbrush, which he must also have brought back from her room, through her hair.

"Ow!" Lara complained, shoving his hand away.

"Be quiet," he grouched, continuing. Turning her back around, he spread her hair out over her shoulders and stood back to critique his work. "Better," he said. "Trust me, you need your feminine wiles tonight."

"Did I miss something?" his model asked sarcastically. "Are you selling me? Am I to audition for something?"

"You need to impress someone, and you sure as hell aren't gonna do it with bits of hair sticking up all over the place. 'Going to be warm enough? You won't look right if you're shivering."

"You're selling me? Aren't you?" She wasn't sure whether to laugh or punch him.

"After a fashion, yes."