He was being left quite pleasantly alone on one such pretty spring day. Well, alone except for the occasional presence of Hillary - but it was always a transient presence, as the butler strode through the front room on one errand or another. Bryce gently settled the red wire into place. No, Hillary rarely stood still; it was always work, work, work for Lady Croft's butler. Can't be good for the heart, Bryce thought, as he slid the brown wire under the red one. Cigarette break soon, he decided. Once he got those two in place.
A movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to face the security monitor. A red car was pulling up. Hillary would doubtless know the make, model, year, and history, maybe the sexual preference of the manufacturer, but Bryce did not give a good shit. "Hillary! Someone's at the door!" He bent back over his work.
The door opened, and the green wire that Bryce almost had in place jumped right back out as a too-familiar, very annoying American accent drifted into the room. "...thought I'd stop by, ya know?"
Bryce could certainly do without the endless stream of Lara's ex-lovers that seemed to drift into the manor every spring like allergenic pollen. They were always alpha males, insufferable, overly muscled, arrogant prats. It was Alex, this time. This bit of dirty-blond dander came slouching in, wearing a rumpled suit, looking around airily like he owned the place. Bryce turned firmly to his work.
Hillary strode in behind Alex. "I apologize, but Lady Croft is away."
"Yeah?" Out of the corner of his eye, Bryce saw Alex turn halfway towards Hillary. "Where'd she go?"
"I am not at liberty to say." Hillary was in Butler Mode, and his voice was smooth and polite.
Alex laughed. "How long have we known each other, man? You can tell me." His shoes clicked on the stone floor as he stepped to the middle of the room. "Anything to drink around here?"
"I'll see what we can get you." Hillary gently touched Alex on the shoulder, Bryce noted, as he walked towards the kitchen. "But as well as you know Lady Croft, you should also know that if she wants you to know where she is, she'll tell you, and if she did not tell you, she does not want you to know where she is."
Alex laughed again. "Too harsh!" he said, his voice twice as loud as it needed to be. Bryce wondered if the man had ever heard of an 'inside voice.' "I'm sure she just forgot."
"You're welcome to try to charm the answer out of her, but not out of me," Hillary said smoothly, walking into the kitchen.
Bryce looked up in time to see Alex following Hillary into the kitchen. A bit too quickly, Bryce decided, and a new reason for his annoyance with Alex popped into his mind. Yes, it was almost teenagerish, but still - handsome bugger, that Alex. Certainly more of the athletic type than Bryce, he thought - more of the type that Hillary would go for, yeah? He tried to put his mind back to the partially-completed pocket welder in front of him, but thoughts danced around in his head. And just how long had he and Hillary known each other? a little voice asked. Maybe Alex would try to charm the answer out of Hillary.
Proper placement of the brown wire, Bryce told himself firmly. But that little voice in his head had other ideas. Bet they're goin' at it, the voice said. When Bryce did not respond, it sent up images. Images of Alex and Hillary walking into the kitchen, of Alex smiling that annoyingly lopsided smile that women seemed to find alluring, of Hillary flashing that rare smile that Bryce did find alluring right back at him. Of hands slowly but surely going to hips, on either side. Of heads tilting, of lips meeting - just a touch at first, then tongues snaking out to prod at each other. Hillary's long, lean fingers tangling in sandy hair as their mouths opened wider. Yes, Hillary would probably enjoy a mouth that didn't taste like cigarettes; he'd probably be pretty damn happy to get his hands on a stomach that was muscled enough to wash clothes with. He'd probably moan, and Alex for damn sure would. Bryce knew what those hands and that tongue could do, and what they could do weren't things to be quiet about. No, they were things to encourage unbuttoning those excessively tailored trousers and slipping one's hand inside to grab a handful of that good stuff, and if Alex so much as touched...
"Fine, fine - but she's going to be very disappointed when she finds out that I wanted to see her and didn't know where she was!"
Bryce realized he was staring into thin air with his mouth half-open. He shut it quickly and grabbed for the nearest tool. Alex stepped out of the kitchen, a bottle of root beer in his hand, his other hand stuffed into his pocket.
"That's a chance I'll take," Hillary said, his voice as smooth as sweet-cream butter.
"I'm sure you will," Alex snorted, then took another pull from the bottle. He tipped it towards Hillary in thanks. "See ya." He swung around, pausing in his spin as he faced Bryce. "See ya later, Bryce!"
"Er - wha? Yeah..." Bryce did not get much stuttering out before Alex, to his relief, left.
Hillary followed Alex out to the entryway and closed the door behind the man. Bryce started to try to find out where he had been before that sodding tosser had walked in. He was interrupted by Hillary's return. "What?" asked the butler.
"Huh?" Very suave, the little voice said.
Hillary walked over and slid one leg up on the desk, looking down with an expression that could not decide if it was puzzled or amused. "Bryce, you were glaring daggers at him."
Bryce frowned at the device in front of him. "I don't like how he keeps comin' around here after Lara."
"He's not such a bad sort. And," mischief crept into Hillary's voice, "since when did you care about the company Lara keeps?"
"He's a twat." Bryce hunkered firmly back over his work as Hillary slid off of the desk; he picked up his forceps and put the green wire firmly into place. He almost jumped out of his skin when Hillary touched his back.
"Bryce, you've been working too hard, I think." Hillary sounded amused "Concern for Lara? What's next?"
"Yer one to talk," Bryce grumbled.
Hillary's hand withdrew, and Bryce freed one hand to pick up the soldering iron. As he touched it gently to the connection to warm it, Hillary asked, his voice soft and slightly confused, "Would you like to go out later?"
"Yeah, yeah, later." Bryce touched the solder to the join as he heard Hillary's footsteps fade as the man left the room. He felt a little irked at himself for not being more enthusiastic about that offer. Hell, for not throwing down his work and saying he wanted to go out right away. Hillary's busy schedule meant that he rarely proposed an outing before Bryce, and Bryce got a little tired of always being the one to propose going out or having sex. But Bryce was in no mood.
Damn Alex, he thought irately. The next time the man came around, he'd get a few flares up the tailpipe - and Bryce was not thinking about the car.
He could always apologize later.