Chapter Text
The keys were jingling in Lance’s hands as he twirled them around, making his way up the driveway towards the Holt family's winter home. The grass on either side of the path was overgrown and there were leaves piling up on the front porch. Spiderwebs reflecting the morning light hung down the lamps framing the terrace. He took a moment to trail over the fencing, his fingers lifting up a scrap bit of paint. He took a deep breath. It wasn’t too cold yet, but he’d still have to hurry if he wanted to add a newer, brighter coat to it.
Lance fumbled with the keys for a bit before realizing the door was already open. Maybe they had been kind enough to send someone over to open the doors for him, although that wasn't necessary. He stepped inside expecting a cleaning lady or assistant of some sort, and was ultimately surprised by the cold air still surrounding him. It felt strange, knowing that the place was usually heated to a minimum to accomodate whoever was booking it next.
The place was usually rented out for bigger events or small get-togethers but it had been sitting empty for about a month, with the Holts wanting to keep their "second home" to themselves for christmas celebrations. The lights were on, as he stepped from the entrance corridor into the big kitchen and he immediately rushed towards the open windows pulling them shut. He hoped they hadn't been open all fall and he pulled the curtains closed in a lousy attempt to lock the remaining warmth in.
Shivering he moved out of the room and towards the dining hall, which would be the main stage of the event, almost stumbling over the leaves of a very sad looking potted plant that very likely would not make it through the winter. As expected the hall was mostly empty aside from a small table stood to the side right next to the grand windows overlooking the garden. The view was fantastic all year round, but Lance immediately took notice of the work that still had to be done now that most trees had rid themselves completely of their summer dress. Luckily, the main focus were some grand fir trees, casting their shadows on a couple of wooden benches. Lance let his gaze wander.
A silhouette could be made out, between the high reaching trees, wandering around the premise. Lance knocked on the glass and waved as the stranger turned to him. Maybe he was lucky and he had just met the new gardener, though he wasn't aware of the old one getting replaced, or some other type of staff that could assist him today. Not that he needed it, he knew this job better than anyone. The other stopped in his tracks, before walking towards him with determined steps. A daunting thought crossed his mind. He had been told he would be working with the same crew as last time.
Lance immediately regretted his decision, what if this guy wasn't staff but had broken in? It would have been terribly easy clmbing through the open windows. He was probably overreacting, but it wasn't totally unlikely. The guy was wearing all black, dark unruly hair framing his face. His nose and cheeks were slightly pink from the cold, which didn't seem to fit with the rest of his attire, but made him look a lot friendlier. It didn't help with Lance's slight panic though. Lance was trying to think of a plan, any kind of back up plan, but the guy had already reached the door. He stepped inside and Lance gulped under his cold glare.
“Who are you?”
Ok, it seemed like he could relax, a burglar wouldnt ask that, right? In actuality he had no idea how someone breaking into a wealthy place acted like, having never encountered that kind of situation. He tried remaining professional, yet relaxed.
“The name’s Lance,” he tried coyly, which didn't seem to impress the other much. “I’m organizing an event here.”
The other blinked at him. Lance sighed internally. This conversation wasn't going anywhere and he still didn't know who this guy was and how he’d gotten access to the house.
“And you are...?” he tried, contemplating if it was too late to run and if maybe he shouldn't have given out his profession to a random stranger.
“Keith. Looks like we have a similar job then,” the stranger said, moving past him and back into the kitchen. He stopped and seemed to think for a second.
“Aren’t you a little early then?” The stranger asked.
Lance followed him, even more confused than he was before. Who was this guy?
“What do you mean?”
The guy grabbed some water out of the fridge, moving around as if he owned the place. After looking him over he passed him a bottle.
“I'm planning this event for the family that lives here.” He took a sip of water. “What are you here for? New years? A birthday?”
“Christmas actually. And they don't live here usually, at least not most times of the year.”
Lance threw the bottle from one hand to the other, still contemplating if he had talked a bit too much again. Something was odd about this, but he didn't feel unsafe in the guy's presence. Even if he had a bit of an intimidating look to him. He definitely seemed to belong here, even if Lance wasn't quite sure what exactly had caused this coincidence. The guy furrowed his brow.
“Me too.”
Lance laughed.
“Ok, that was funny. No, seriously. What do you do exactly?”
“I'm here to set up the Holt's Christmas party."
His laugh turned nervous.
“Are you at the wrong house maybe?”
This couldn't be. Lance was always responsible for their Christmas parties. Always. Without fail. It was his personal mission to one up his past self.
“No, no I have the keys.”
The guy, Keith Lance remembered, rummaged in his coat pocket and pulled out a pair of spare keys that looked identical to the ones Lance had. His stomach dropped, and he pushed his hair out of his face. Keith gave him a look.
“Are you at the wrong house?”
“What, no way! Look man, I dont know whats going on, but clearly you must be wrong.”
Had he been fired? Replaced last minute? That couldn't be. He had a contract. And even if, Mrs.Holt was an old school friend of his mother, she'd never kick him out without further notice. Or would she? She was a busy woman after all, maybe she had simply forgotten to notify him.
“Why me?” Keith asked, getting defensive.
“It's obviously you! I've been doing this job for years! I’m always booked out this time of year.”
“Really? For how long?”
“Three years. See, I'm telling you, you must be wrong. Maybe you had the wrong description in mind, because I'm the one in charge here.”
Keith glared at him. “That's not that long. Have you considered that maybe they've gotten bored of your ideas?”
Lance gasped. How dare this guy? Walk into his house, at his job, claiming it was his and then berating him?
“What's wrong with you?” He shot back at him. “Look I don't know what to tell you, I have a contract and I'm doing this job.”
“Well, mine says otherwise.” Keith shot back at him, walking right past him out of the suffocating kitchen space and removing his coat. Lance started to get irritated by the way this guy couldn't keep still for two seconds. They were having an argument here!
“Why don't we call them and settle this?” Keith yelled over his shoulder, and Lance couldn't agree with him more, just to get the opportunity to shove the truth in his face.
Two hours later they were still sitting at the dining hall table, rereading their contracts on their phones, and arguing again and again between annoyed phone calls. It seemed pointless, it was the weekend and there was no way to get either the Holts nor any of their assistants on the phone. Lance had left seven different voice messages, getting a strange look from his new acquaintance. He had even called his friend Pidge who was one of the Holt siblings themselves, but they had been out of town and couldn't make any promises. He did get some friendly reassurance out of it with the added note of Pidge laughing over his misery. Not him potentially losing his job of course, but being stuck with a stranger he couldn't yet stand.
With a loud groan he threw his phone on the table, burying his face in his crossed arms. Keith, was tapping his fingers on the table, arguing with his brother, if Lance had heard correctly. Their coats were hanging over the back of their chairs, and Lance went to turn the heating up a notch, unsure if his shivering came from the room actually being cold or his inner turmoil.
It was going to be fine. Somehow.
Lance leaned against the heater, waiting as Keith got off the phone. He seemed even more exasperated as Lance felt internally. At least Lance still mustered up a smile occasionally. In the end the task was completely unsuccessful. They both had a very similar contract, only that Lance had been hired by his mother's friend, while Keith’s contract had been signed by her husband. He wasn't quite sure what they were supposed to do now. They normally only appointed one person for this job and he couldn't figure out why they made this change. It felt like an insult to his skills. Pairing him up with someone he had never worked with, with such short notice was not very professional in his opinion. He had work to do and had no clue how the other would approach the job.
What if they wouldn't get along? They only had a little over twenty days left to get everything done. Lance didn't have a problem working in pairs, it was sort of his forte, but he still felt weirdly threatened by the other. What if it was all a mistake and Mrs Holt had accidentally signed his contract out of habit when in reality they had already found his replacement? And what if the guy didn't want to work with him after all? At least then the responsibility wouldn't fall on him He breathed deeply. Keith placed his phone down.
“Well, what did you have in mind?” Keith said. Lance blinked at him.
“For the job. Since well be doing this together now, I guess.” Lance scratched his neck. “I wasn't aware we had agreed on that.”
“Well, I'm guessing you're not just going to quit just because I'm here and my brother will kill me if i try and use this as an excuse so...”
Keith got out a small notepad from his coat pocket along with a pen. The paper was creased and he ripped the first page off that had been torn at the edges. Lance walked back over to him.
“You're well prepared.” He teased, only half joking. He sat back down at his chair, grabbing his backpack and pulling out his laptop. Just as he settled his laptop on the table ready to turn it over to show his detailed plan, he had spent a week working on, assured he'd get the job without having the confirmation yet, the notification for an incoming email popped up. The sender was Mrs Holt's assistant, whom he had been trying to reach over and over again. Lance didn't get to read the whole message before it disappeared, but what he saw made his stomach twist.
"Hi Lance.
There is only one position for this year's Christmas Event coordinator....”
His Christmas was definitely ruined.