A/N: I was going to leave it at that, really. But this fic just writes itself.
I have to apologize for the somewhat cryptic "insider jokes" in this one, seeing that only a few people will know what I'm on about. I still hope it's funny enough...
HOME OF THE BRAVE
Act III
"Open the door!"
"Hah, no, I don't think so," is her muffled reply.
Kurtis very quickly counts to ten, and tries again.
"Open. That. Door. Croft. Now!" He feels rather pleased with himself. No one could blame him for lack-of-self-control. But she'll be dangling head-down from that window in, let's say, five seconds.
"Oh no, Sir, don't do that." Winston speaks at his back right as he's lifting his arm towards the door. "That door is a unique piece of good old craftsmanship. It can't be easily replaced, Sir."
"Kurtis!" he groans, momentarily distracted. There's a certain wisdom in the old man's advice. His debts are growing with alarming speed.
"Oh, yes, I keep forgetting. Kurtis." A meek Winston concedes, with a little bow of his head.
"OK." He draws a deep breath and turns to the butler. "You tell her to open that door. I only want to have a word with her."
"Lara, dear. There's a gentleman here that wants a word with you," Winston chimes, putting deliberate emphasis on the word 'gentleman'.
"Tell him to go away!" she shouts back.
"Milady's engaged right now. We'll get back to you as soon as possible," the butler announces, solemnly facing Kurtis again. "Sir."
"Shiiit!" Tugging at his hair in disbelief, he lets himself slide down the door until he's sitting on the floor. "How did I get myself into this!"
Someone snorts behind the door.
"You know what she did?" Kurtis hisses, looking up at Winston. "She painted… my… bike!"
"Well, well, isn't that nice of her…" Distractedly, Winston picks up the big box he was carrying to the kitchen before the current events made him lose his thread. "Milady," he addresses the closed door again, "I think the gentleman here only wants to express his gratitude." He gives Kurtis a beatific smile and resumes his journey.
"My ass," Kurtis mutters under his breath, and in that moment the door flies open and he falls flat on his back into the room, banging his head hard against the floor.
"I'm so glad you liked it, darling," she says in her best husky, sex-bomb-of-the-forties voice.
Kurtis blinks at the dangerous looking fire poker she's brandishing- "Hey! HEY!" -and rolls himself over just in time to save his skull from further injuries. "You are some mad bitch, you know?" and speedily crawls on all fours to a safer distance.
"Uh-huh," she grins from ear to ear, raising the poker again.
"Ow, Crooooft!" he ducks, covering his head, but instead of smashing his head, she grabs him roughly and plants a big sloppy kiss on it.
"I knew you'd love it…" Man, she's purring, and somehow he's finding it hard to concentrate on his former aim. He makes a feeble attempt to kiss back, but the slippery nightmare of a woman has already backed to a far corner of the room, and is pointing the poker at something on the balcony.
"You forgot your bag, Santa."
"Where is he?"
"Outside."
Lara squints through the window, but there's no Kurtis to be seen, near or far. "I can't see him."
Winston points in the direction of the front garden, without lifting his eyes from his laptop. If she presses her head sideways to the glass, she can just catch a glimpse of a sweaty Kurtis, fighting the lawnmower. He looks very, very pissed off.
She bursts out laughing. "My, Winston, what's he doing with that prehistoric thing? Didn't you tell him we've got a brand new electric one somewhere…?"
The butler shrugs. "I thought I'd spare him the sight of that motorbike again…"
The lawnmower hits a rock hidden in the grass and jerks. Freed of human control, it makes a sudden attempt to run over Kurtis' foot. Lara thinks she'll have to give him a point for quick reflexes.
Losing interest, she starts ripping the cardboard box on the kitchen's counter, while at the same time trying to look over the butler's shoulder at the computer screen. "Dear Katie,'" she reads, "I have this really bad problem… You are turning into quite a success, aren't you…"
"Hmm," is Winston's non-committal reply.
"At this rate you'll soon own that villa in Ibiza you're always talking about…"
"Bahamas. I've changed my mind."
"Well, you'll certainly save yourself a lot of taxes. But what am I going to do without you?" she pouts.
"Oh, it'll still be a while. And by then, he'll be fit for the job," says Winston, meaning the cursing man outside.
Intrigued, she leans over his shoulder and reads aloud… "I was browsing the web a few days ago and I discovered this picture of a naked man…Well, well, will you look at that. Who sent that one?"
"'Mightily distressed,'" answers the butler, checking the signature. "It's a very interesting one."
"He was standing in front of a window and pl…"
"Read the end. It's the best part," Winston tells Lara, all ten fingers suspended over the keyboard.
"Katie, the window curtains were familiar. They are my grandmother's! My grandma is seventy eight; the idea of her taking pictures of young naked men in her house is so sickening. Oh, I feel so embarrassed. What should I do?"
"Ask her for her gran's phone number," Lara suggests.
"Already have done," Winston says, rubbing his hands.
"Time for a little refreshment!"
Kurtis watches her cross the lawn, swinging her hips in that maddening way she has. Making an effort to appear indifferent, he critically inspects the glass against the sunlight before he drowns the water in two gulps.He figures it had to be the hottest day in English history when Winston talked him into cutting the grass.
"Oh, darling, you're doing a beautiful job. But look, you've overlooked that tiny patch over there…"
He frowns, and she gives him such a dazzling smile, that against his better judgement, he feels himself softening fast.
"Such a lovely day, isn't it. Lucky, that, now that the bedroom feels so draughty…"
Kurtis' face turns an interesting shade of purple. "Had you let go of that poker instead of pulling back…"
"…had you not tried to tackle me while I was standing so close to something breakable…" she shoots back, and sighs."You're a real danger to my windows…"
His face turns even longer, and she laughs. Rising on tiptoes, she ruffles his hair affectionately. "But I'm not mad at you anymore."
He'd like to point out two things here: first, that he seriously doubts she's forgiven him, and second, that he's hardly the one needing forgiveness, since it was her doing that got the window smashed, but this disturbing combination of heat, freshly cut grass and too-close-standing-a-Lara is proving to be more than any red-blooded guy can take.
"How are you feeling?" she breathes against his ear, gathering a drop of sweat with her fingertip.
"Hot." The answer comes so promptly over his lips that even he is taken by surprise.
"I thought so," she laughs, slapping away his hands, which all of a sudden refuse to return to the lawnmower's handles. "When you're finished here, come to the kitchen. I've got a surprise for you."
"For me?" he echoes her, slightly taken aback. It can't be anything good.
"A coffee machine. One of those shiny things with millions of buttons. Latte, espresso, cappuccino, whatever your heart desires. It'll probably even fan your brow if you ask nicely." She collects the glass that's fallen to the ground, mercifully refraining from breaking. "That is, if you're able to decode the manual. It's about a hundred pages long…"
"Huh. Well. Thanks. Wow!" he stammers in quick succession. She winks, looking coyly up through averted eyelashes.
"Lara!" Winston calls from inside the house. "The glazier is on the phone. He's afraid the unusual size may change the prize from his initial estimation…"
Kurtis moans.
"Coming!" she shouts back, looking smug, and turns to go.
"Hey!" he calls after her, suddenly remembering something. "Did you know that he's got a job as an agony aunt for some tabloid?"
"Winston?"
He nods, enthusiastic. By now he's starting to suspect the old fella might be a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"Oh, yes. He'd do anything for some extra cash, Winston. But in fact, it was my idea…" she chirrups merrily. "Come on, now. If you finish quickly, you can still join me at the pool…" Casting a seductive glance over her shoulder, she blows him a kiss.
An open-mouthed Kurtis stares at her until she disappears into the house, grinning like a fool. The minute the door has closed, he falls on his knees and raises his arms towards heaven. "Thank you Thank you Thank you my Lord!"
He jumps back to his feet and is about to turn on the lawnmower again when an unsettling image of very early this morning slowly starts shaping itself before his inner eye. Himself, a huge banner proclaiming "Boston Tea-Party, 2006", and every single one of her expensive Royal Darjeeling First Flush tea crates, floating in the pool.
"Oh shit…"
Finis, at least until Lara decides on her revenge
And now, the credits: Thanks Jordy (and Smithers, for the brow-fanning coffee machine), thanks reviewers, and thanks to FB, who unwittingly gave me new inspiration with her, hmm, 'suggestive' fanart.
And, well... sorry, Grandma.