Chapter Text
Bernard bristled in rage, before switching his attention to the floor, where the wine was slowly seeping into the little grooves in between the tiles. Was any of it salvageable? It didn't seem likely, tiny shards of glass were scattered all around the crash site, glinting in the light, taunting him. The book seller sighed, and reached out to grab one of the larger pieces. It was probably best to clear this away before Fran or Manny scolded him for being 'careless'.
Bernard knew they had a broom somewhere, but he wasn't entirely sure where. And frankly, he couldn't be bothered to look for it. Would anyone notice if he just kicked the pile under the table or something? It was his kitchen anyway.
The dark haired man lifted the shard away from the mess on the floor, observing it glumly. A sharp jab of pain rippled across his finger, and Bernard dropped the glass with a curse. Just his luck.
A small bead of blood ran down his finger, leaving a trail of red in its wake.
"Is everything alright in here Bernard? We heard you shouting..."
Fran trailed onto the kitchen, the others following closely behind her. She let out a small gasp when she saw the damage, and Manny shook his head disapprovingly, sending waves ripping through his loose hair.
"How did you manage to do that?" The woman continued, almost sounding impressed.
"I didn't do anything."
She raised her eyebrow slightly.
"Then who broke the bottle-"
"That Benson bastard." he raged, pointing hopelessly at the open window.
"Benson?"
Oh, he had forgotten Jason was still here. He fixed him with a disapproving look, he hadn't said it was ok for him to enter his kitchen.
"The cat." he grumbled.
"Ohhh is that why you were going on about cats earlier?"
Bernard blinked slowly at Manny. Thinking about it now, he hadn't actually explained the whole landlord situation to any of them. No wonder he hadn't got as much sympathy as he had been angling for.
"Manny, I would explain it to you, but I really can't be bothered."
"Can't say I'm surprised..." his assistant muttered under his breath.
Excuse me?
"What did you just say young man?"
"Nothing Da-Bernard!" Manny said quickly, looking a bit sheepish.
Hmm. He was sensing a certain amount of disrespect from him. Unacceptable.
Fran cut in before Bernard could say anything back, clearly displeased with the book sellers lack of explanation. She put her hands on her hips, and the Irish man subconsciously shrank into himself. She could be quite scary.
"Explain. Now."
"Fine. Mrs Hanley died, and left the building to her cat, Mr sodding Benson."
Fran gasped and looked weirdly sad, for a reason Bernard could not tell for the life of him.
"Mrs Hanley? Oh god..."
"Yes. I would say it was a relief, she was a bitch, but now that stupid cat is in charge. I like it even less."
Fran looked angry.
"Could you not have some compassion for once in your life? She was a lonely old lady. Not some evil corporate bloodsucker."
Compassion? Who did she think he was- his pathetic excuse of an assistant?
He left her question unanswered, instead choosing to give her a small glare.
"If you all don't mind, I'm not trying to host a party here. I have...things to do."
Bernard had decided that for such drastic, cat related measures, drastic action must be taken in return. He was going to be in contact with the exterminator.
Fran and Manny reluctantly trailed out, deciding it was best to leave the seething man alone to scheme and mourn his wine. Jason however, remained where he had been for the duration of this conversation: casually lent against the wall in a way that only he could pull off. It was confusing really. Bernard knew that if he attempted something like that, he would only manage to make a fool out of himself.
Just another reason to dislike him, the Irish man supposed. He was too cool for his own good.
They stayed silent for a moment, Bernard trying to not-so-subtly gesture to the door. But when the explorer did move, he walked in Bernard's direction, instead of the exit's.
Er?
He looked at him, hoping for some sort of explanation. If worse came to worse, he had taken all of one self defense lessons when he was eight...or possibly seven. He had the skills. Don't try and come at him, Buster.
"Your hand."
"Sorry?"
Jason chuckled lightly and fished into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled looking plaster.
"It's bleeding, give it a wash will you?"
Well, he wasn't attacking him at least. He looked down at his hand, and sure enough, there was a decent amount of blood starting to go all gross and thick around his finger. Congealing? Ew.
"Don't tell me what to do, Mister." he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Instead of offended, Jason simply looked confused, and raised his hands in mock surrender. He set the plaster down on the table, and retreated a tad, sensing Bernard's discomfort. Though, not nearly enough if you asked him.
"I don't mean to offend." he added with a smile.
Of course he didn't.
"I will see you later, Mr Black?"
"Hmm."
Bernard watched grumpily as he finally made his way out of the kitchen, his stupid hair catching the artificial light in a perfect way. Typical.
But still, as annoying as he was, he did have a slight point. The ache in his finger was bothering, to say the least. He slowly made his way to the tap, wincing as the icy water flowed, taking the red goop with it. He dried it with a nearby rag, and cast yet another suspicious glance at the plaster. Who knows where it had been. Did he always just carry plasters around with him?
Whatever. He unwrapped it, trying his best not to over think it. With all the trouble he had caused, Jason must owe him about a billion plasters right now. That thought did make him feel better about taking it, and soon the jagged wound was covered.
Now, onto the next task of the day: phoning the exterminator. He wanted Mr Benson gone, and he wanted him gone today.
...
"What do you mean you can't make it?!" Bernard shouted into the phone, hearing the exterminator stutter apologies other end.
"I'm sorry sir, but as I said, my van has a flat tire so-"
"Bloody walk then! I need you to come tonight!" he interrupted.
What kind of stupid excuse was that anyway?
"I'm sorry sir but I can't do that, I have a lot of equipment. The soonest I will be able to come would be tomorrow morning. I'll give you a discount for the inconvenience-"
The book seller slammed down the phone with a huff. He couldn't wait until tomorrow sodding morning! This horrible furry thing needed to be gone. He couldn't last any longer listening to those horrible cruel meows. He certainly couldn't sleep knowing what was lurking above him, probably shit talking his tenant to all the local lady cats. What a playboy.
Well, screw the professionals. They were expensive anyway. He would just have to do the grisly job himself. What kind of reliable business gets a flat tire anyway? That was super unprofessional.
But he needed a weapon...
It was at that exact moment that Jason came striding into the room, flashing his blinding grin in the dark haired man's direction.
"Ah ha! Bernard, my man. I was wondering if I could have a word about the seating arrangement for the talk."
He smiled, sending a wave of fresh annoyance to Bernard's stomach. This bastard really knew how to pick his timings.
But then an idea struck him.
"You."
The explorer looked at him, confused.
"Me?"
"Obviously. Who else would I be talking to?"
Bernard rolled his eyes as he watched the man yawn, running a hand casually through his hair.
"Right...do you need something then?"
"Do you have a gun?"
"What-"
"Yes or no if you please. You seem like the kind of person who would have one somewhere. With all your dodgy exploring business...stuff. Whatever." his voice trailed off a little towards the end of his rambling, and he watched as slight disbelief painted the taller man's features.
"Whatever do you need a gun for? I wasn't aware that book selling was such a dangerous profession..."
Jason laughed at his own joke, and Bernard scoffed.
"Look I need to kill a pest ok? Now do you have a gun or what? Or any degree of weapon I can use."
"Well-"
"If you are going to waste my time I'll go and find someone else."
The book seller fidgeted where he stood, eager for Jason to reply and get this conversation over with. The blonde was regarding him with a look he didn't recognise, a weird mixture of smugness, annoyance, and possibly... fondness? Bernard wasn't really sure. But he wasn't enjoying the uncomfortably warm feeling spreading up the back of his neck, and he quickly ceased his pondering.
"If you would let me finish please." the man smiled pleasantly again, taking no notice of Bernard's need for speed.
"I have a perfectly functional arrow and crossbow in my car, that I was going to show at my talk tonight. It really packs a punch, if you get my drift."
"Perfect!"
Bernard allowed his body to relax, and he took a seat at the kitchen table. The explorer followed suite, still looking rather out of depth in the whole situation.
"What kind of pest are we talking about?"
"A particularly nasty one. Very slippery nature."
He didn't feel quite like clarifying what type of animal Mr Benson was just yet, as some people tended to frown upon the idea of shooting household pets. Heaven knows why.
"Mr Benson." he stated knowingly.
Well, that kind of messed up his plan of being inconspicuous. Though he couldn't imagine it had been hard to guess, remembering Jason had witnessed the scene earlier.
"Yes."
No point lying, the explorer would see through him anyway.
"Don't worry, you wouldn't even like this cat. Nobody does. He's a bully." he added
"I'm not sure how I feel about shooting household pets."
There! Exactly as he thought. He really was a smart cookie. Bernard gave himself a mental slap on the back, before focusing his attention back on Jason.
"I'll do the shooting part mate."
"Do you know how to operate a weapon like that? Safely?"
Jason stared, waiting for an answer. Bernard stammered slightly, trying to organise the words in his brain.
"Er, you could teach me.?" he tried hesitantly.
"Ok."
"Really?"
"Yes. But you'll have to wait until my talk is over."
Bernard was about to roll his eyes, but stopped himself, sensing their agreement was on thin ice. This was probably the best he was going to get.
"Fine."
Jason stuck out his hand with a blinding grin, and Bernard took it tentatively. Why were his teeth their own light source?
"Deal."
Jason got up energetically, and smiled, yet again.
"Well, I best go and get ready, people will be arriving any minute now!"
Bernard glanced at the clock: he was right. Time had flown whilst yelling at the exterminator on the phone.
Jason paused and looked at him hopefully, his eyes shining. Bernard gulped.
"Will you come and watch, Mr Black."
"You can call me Bernard."
The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them, and instead of correcting himself, his brain simply decided to stare stupidly. What was wrong with him? The explorer was the very last person he wanted referring to him with his first name.
Jason, not noticing the dark haired man's internal breakdown, looked a bit surprised.
"I can? Fab. Anyway, Bernard, you didn't answer my question."
The way he pronounced his name, just one simple word, nearly sent tingles down the book seller's spin. And he couldn't figure out why for the life of him.
"I was thinking of, er, going on a walk?"
Jason frowned.
"But it's raining?"
"Well, I quite like the rain you see. Very fun...stuff."
Bernard cringed a tad.
"Oh please Bernard. I need to introduce the owner in my talk. It won't be the same without you there." Jason sighed sadly.
Well damn. That was hard enough. And, strangely enough, he found himself wanting to say yes. Besides, what harm could it do? He needed to stay close to the shop anyway, to make sure Mr Benson wasn't up to anything cheeky.
"Fine." he muttered.
"Great! Come on then!"
He quickly made his way towards the other room, where the chairs had all been set out for visitors. Bernard followed, feet shuffling behind him.
This was going to be interesting.