A/N: This is a partial resolution for the business in Extremes.
Bryce could never understand Hillary's soft-heartedness when it came to - well, disgusting things, as far as Bryce was concerned. You cannot have a trailer sitting on an extensive set of grounds without having visitations from mice, snakes, insects of all kinds; things that Bryce felt perfectly happy about stepping on or swatting, then kicking out in disgust. But Hillary always had to pick up whatever vile thing hand crawled in - gently, between two of those long, slender fingers, to be pitched easily out of the door. It irritated Bryce to see him treat such nasty critters with much more care than he would treat a human intruder. He never asked Hillary about this discrepancy, though, as he was sure he would get some line about how the critters never asked for it.
Thoughts of this nature were running through Bryce's mind as he watched Hillary cup an errant moth that was about to land in a sticky puddle of something, and wave it on. Bryce kept his eye on it, hoping to be able to 'accidentally' squish it with his tumbler the next time it came around. He hoped to have Hillary's eye when he did, but Hillary was still preoccupied with glaring daggers at the pretty young brunette who had smiled at Bryce the last time he had visited the bar, and who appeared to be trying to walk over and talk to them. She had settled into a parody of a mambo where she would approach the table, then back off at the glower Hillary would send her way. She would most likely tire of it fairly soon, but Bryce was rather flattered that she had gone through so many iterations already. He was flattered, too, that Hillary was so irked at her for doing so. He felt highly flattered all around, he decided, and finished his drink with a flourish, banging the tumbler on the table and just barely missing the too-curious moth. Hillary's eyebrows leapt as he looked back at Bryce.
They were out on what Bryce liked to call a date, because Hillary hated that word. It really was a compromise; a matter of convenience. When either the tedium of regular life at the manor or the ludicrous excitement of one of Lara's more interesting expeditions got to be too much for Bryce, he would drag Hillary along on a barhop. The other man, in turn, had learned it was best to simply go along with it and let Bryce blow off whatever steam had built up within. Bryce complained loudly about the inconvenience of having to schedule it in the first place and curtail the duration according to Hillary's desires, but just to himself, he was more than happy to admit the positive aspects of the tradeoff. From a practical standpoint, he no longer had to worry about the logistics of getting from bar to bar, and getting home at the end; as he no longer got quite as blind drunk by the end, the hangover the next day was a little less debilitating. The impractical benefits were quite tempting, as well. When removed from the settings of the manor and all that reminded him of Lara, Hillary became quite solicitous - almost possessive - of Bryce. He was not an openly affectionate man, and Bryce found he rather enjoyed being the center of the butler's attention for such an extended period of time. It was especially fun when women tried to chat him up. But possibly the most positive aspect of the tradeoff was that when Hillary had decided Bryce was drunk enough, he would steer the other man back to the car and take him back to the manor. Hillary took care of the driving and navigation, which meant Bryce could concentrate on the more pressing matters of attempting to get the other man's shirt and trousers open, and entertain himself with the contents. Hillary usually managed to fend him off until they got back to the manor, at which point they would have about as riotous a night as was regularly seen at the manor in the absence of heavy weaponry. Bryce would sleep until late afternoon the next day, and wake up feeling significantly better than he had before he had the day before.
It wasn't exactly a proper bender, but it served its purpose. Additionally, it allowed for a certain amount of logical induction on Bryce's part. Figuring out the angle with Hillary and his leniency towards the disgusting crawly things of the world was one of them, but Bryce was investigating something more pressing tonight - whether Hillary actually called the night to a close when he felt Bryce was sufficiently tanked, or whether he did so when he was tired of waiting for his own part in the festivities to begin.
Bryce leaned his head on his hands and smiled his best winsome smile across the table at Hillary. All in the interests of science, of course.