Chapter Text
The morning after the “incident,” the Frontera Estate carried an unusual tension.
Not the kind caused by politics.
Not the kind caused by financial collapse.
But the kind caused when everyone has just discovered something they were not supposed to know.
Javier stood perfectly still in the hallway outside Lloyd’s office.
Inside, he could hear Lloyd calmly saying, “We should integrate them into a controlled economic model.”
A pause.
Then Gyro: “You want to… monetize interdimensional refugees?”
Lloyd: “That is an extremely reductive way of phrasing it, but yes.”
Johnny: “…He’s kind of terrifying.”
Javier exhaled slowly through his nose. “Of course he is.”
---
Across the corridor, Gyro leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Javier with growing amusement.
Johnny followed his gaze.
“…You noticed it too?” Johnny asked quietly.
Gyro smirked. “Oh, I noticed.”
Inside the room, Lloyd’s voice continued listing logistical possibilities involving “guest housing tiers” and “potential trade routes between worlds.”
Javier stepped inside.
“Lord Lloyd,” he said formally, “you cannot industrialize everything that falls into our garden.”
Lloyd didn’t look up. “Watch me.”
Gyro made a choking sound that suspiciously resembled laughter.
Johnny covered his mouth.
Javier, very composed, added, “Also, I recommend we avoid encouraging them to- ”
He stopped.
Because Gyro was openly grinning now.
“Hey,” Gyro said, voice light. “So, Javier was it?”
Javier narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”
Gyro tilted his head. “You’re pretty attentive to Lloyd.”
Silence.
The room temperature somehow dropped.
Lloyd slowly looked up from his papers.
“…What was that?”
Johnny leaned slightly forward. “Oh, this is getting good.”
Javier, unfazed on the outside, replied, “It is my duty as his attendant.”
Gyro hummed. “Right. Duty.”
A pause.
Then, casually:
“You ever consider that your ‘duty’ looks a lot like you panicking every time he leaves a room?”
Javier’s expression didn’t change.
But his ears did turn faintly red.
Lloyd blinked once.
“…Oh,” Lloyd said slowly.
Gyro’s grin widened.
Johnny whispered, delighted: “Ohhh.”
---
There was a long silence.
The kind of silence where multiple universes briefly reconsider their decisions.
Then Lloyd stood up.
“I am not participating in whatever this is becoming,” he said firmly.
Gyro leaned toward Johnny. “He’s participating.”
Johnny nodded. “He’s deeply participating.”
Javier stepped forward. “Lord Lloyd, that is not what this is.”
Lloyd, already walking toward the door: “It absolutely is something, I just refuse to categorize it.”
Gyro called after him, “That sounds like denial with extra steps!”
Lloyd did not respond.
But he walked faster.
---
Later that evening, the estate dining hall was unusually full.
Not because of guests.
But because Lloyd had insisted on a “strategic group dinner for psychological normalization.”
No one believed him.
Especially not Javier, who was now sitting unusually close to Lloyd.
Too close, according to Gyro.
Johnny nudged Gyro under the table.
Gyro whispered, “Look at him. That’s not ‘professional distance.’ That’s ‘I will fight reality itself if it separates us’ distance.”
Johnny snorted quietly.
Across the table, Lloyd was explaining cross-dimensional trade theory.
Javier was listening intently.
Too intently.
Gyro leaned back. “Yeah. I think we found the real main plot.”
Johnny nodded. “It’s not the dimensional travelers.”
Gyro grinned.
“It’s those two idiots.”
---
That night, Gyro and Johnny passed by the hallway on their way back to their room.
They stopped outside Javier’s door.
From inside:
Lloyd: “That proposal was irrational.”
Javier: “It was efficient.”
Lloyd: “It was reckless.”
Javier: “It was effective.”
A pause.
Then Lloyd, quieter: “…You’re not wrong.”
Another pause.
Gyro covered his mouth.
Johnny was already shaking with silent laughter.
Inside the room, something shifted - chairs moving closer, papers rustling, voices lowering.
Gyro whispered, “Yeah.”
Johnny nodded.
“They’re gone.”
And as they walked away, both of them sniggered - softly, knowingly, and with the absolute satisfaction of men who had just discovered the real battlefield was not D4C, not parallel worlds…
…but emotional self-awareness in a Victorian fantasy estate.