moritat | there is always another au

It's a good thing g she came in with both brothers, otherwise he would have assumed she was a one night stand of Hyde's and hardly paid it any mind. Let them do their thing. "Oh, yes, that's right, Miss Vasquez. Poole." He offers a handshake, while giving Hyde the eye to check whether he's been on his best behaviour or making a nuisance of himself. Hyde, naturally scowls.

Paloma wonders if butlers usually bow, but sheepishly and firmly shakes his hand. He remembered her name without ever meeting her! It's flattering, whether or not that's part of his job.

She catches and understands the exchange, given its sort of paternal overtones, and she pats Hyde's arm with great caution. "Tonight's a good night for surprise encounters!" A fake laugh follows. Look. She's trying.

"Is it?" He looks between the three of them, as Hyde puts his arm around Paloma's waist. An eyebrow rises - did Hyde just shove his way in, wasn't Jekyll going on some sort of date? "Are you bullying your brother, Edward?"

"What? What am I, fucking eight years old?" He scoffs, rolls his eyes, and starts pulling Paloma along.

Jekyll stays behind a moment longer to explain, "No, it's fine, really! Would you mind preparing some tea?" He places a hand on Poole's arm to reassure that he's not being bullied, and runs off to catch up with them, where Hyde's taken Paloma into a sitting room with extravagant furniture that must be hundreds of years old. Plenty of art pieces around the room too - paintings, sculptures.

Bullying is the word, she thinks, bemused at the arm winding around her waist so soon after he got pinched. He's a glutton for punishment.

Her fingers scarcely have a chance to raise before they're moving along. Tripping, in Paloma's case. It turns into a fast clickity-clacketing scoot through classy mansion halls. She's about read his mind before they've set foot in the art room. The nature of the pieces surrounding them on all sides is what spares Hyde another, more vicious pinching. She latches onto his shoulder, turning her face every which way.

"Oh my gosh," she wheezes. He is utterly forgotten, as is Jekyll. "You've been busy, or your family has!"

"Both, most of it's been here all my life." He knows what he's about, it's the best way to lead her off without getting reprimanded - distract her! "Mom especially liked it, but I'm sure eighty percent was still here well before her."

Jekyll brings up the rear, and goes to arrange the table when he sees that Paloma's so distracted. "Are you going to show her your painting?"

"Shut up."

Too late.

"You paint!" Touchy subject, she can tell, but her curiosity blossoms into an insatiable need to see. Paloma looks away from the grandiose collection, grinning up into the face of her scheming escort. Jekyll knows what he's about too, the sly dog. "Please?"

"It's just some fucking shit."

"It's really not, he's good! And it's not just that I think so, he's won awards, and he draws the band posters."

He shoves his hands in his pockets, grumbling to himself. "Fine, whatever, it's over there. It was just some stupid show in college and now he thinks we have to put it on display." It's true, Jekyll's like a parent with their child's crayon drawings or report card with an A+ stuck up on the fridge.

The painting is very abstract, but still has a distinct image within it (like this, but heavy on use of red.)

She digs it.

The spectrum of rage or something else equally animal in the red visage, the wild strokes and their deliberate planning. Paloma forgets to make polite approving noises, she's so into the piece. It's with reluctance she drifts back to the boys.

"Umm, if you ever decide to part with it, I'd love to buy it off of you..."

"You can have it." He shrugs, plainly embarrassed and yet trying to hide it.

Jekyll the proud father watches, beaming on Hyde's behalf.

Paloma is as delighted as Jekyll is proud of the family's reluctant artist, but her gleaming smile is replaced with a frown.

"What, no, you busted your butt to make this. You're not giving it to me for free!" And she seems pretty adamant that this be the case. She checks on Jekyll to back her up in this, planting her feet.

"It's not like I need any money, it's a present!" He grumbles and refuses to look at either of them. Throwing himself down on the couch seems like a good plan.

Jekyll meanwhile - while he thinks it's true Hyde worked too hard to just toss it away, when he puts it like that, it's all true. If it's a present, then payment would be wrong...

Her chest squeezes. Hyde can be awfully cute, can't he?

Paloma can't argue the logistics of present-giving and especially can't protest without Henry backing her up. Left alone with faultless reasoning, she dares to imagine where the piece can go in her rooms. Veronica owns the house, but she shouldn't mind...

She plunks down beside the sulking twin, checking Jekyll's face to see how seriously they ought to take Hyde's fluster. "Then I'm grateful and honored. Thank you, Edward." Will he fidget if she kisses him chastely on the cheek? They're about to find out.

As far as Jekyll's concerned, any time Hyde is being cute instead of shitty, they should make the most of it. He gives her a little nod to tell her to go ahead.

Meanwhile Edward flushes, only a peck on the cheek and yet, when he's already flustered... He only mumbles reluctantly, "You're welcome... Maybe I'll actually get you something good another time."

The corner of her mouth pulls up. She's quite forgotten the murder accusation at this mumbling goober's feet.

He's a fetching red. "Don't do that. I just like to have something to remember people by." In case it doesn't work out, if they don't keep in touch, anything. "It's a bonus if I can hang it up."

"I guess." Grumble. He gets up to go take it off the wall and hand it right to her. It fills the empty space with his lack of reply.

Jekyll just smiles and dares to take Paloma's hand as he sits beside her.

That's about the time a tray of tea is delivered to them.

Oh. Okay. They're handing it off, like, right now. That occupies at least one other hand, and Jekyll takes the other, leaving Hyde with nothing.

His touch puts a homey light into her chest. She curls her fingers around his for the joy of it. She's smiling bashfully when Poole arrives with tea, jolting her.

"Thank you! I'm an art thief tonight," she flusters, wagging the canvas. How odd, being held by the two at different intervals. They can't be sharing a woman!

It wouldn't be the first he's seen of them sharing a little too much... He hardly bats an eye at that and instead smiles. "I'm surprised Harry will allow it to be taken from his grasp," he says, upon seeing which work it is.

"Now he needs to do more to fill up that empty space, that's all!" Jekyll laughs, and grins as if it was his plan all along.

Paloma chuckles anxiously (feeling like an intruder, despite the anchor of Jekyll) and peers Edward's way out of the corner of her eye.

"No pressure," she says lightly, not wishing to bully him into another canvas. "Even if I'd try buying the next one, too..."

"Jesus, you don't have to treat me like a fucking child, "look what Edward did, isn't that goddamn adorable!" Just because you're an overachiever!" He snaps at his brother, and in the butler's general direction.

"Teddy, no, that's not how I mean it-"

"Don't fucking call me that!" He grabs Jekyll by the collar to pull him up, only to push him back into the sofa and storm off.

She about drops the canvas at the abruptness of Hyde's tantrum. The hand around her own is ripped away, leaving Paloma to leap out of her skin and shrink away from the brothers.

As he storms off she collects herself, looping an arm around her waist and setting the artwork aside. "I, umm." She stands up too fast, putting a hand to her head. "I'll go after him." He isn't sick of her face, probably. Her heels click down the corridor and fade after his footsteps.

"Edward," she calls, but only after becoming thoroughly lost. "Shit."

He's stormed up the stairs, headed to the wing of the house filled with bedrooms. Too many for three people to share. "What?" it's a good sign that he answers at all, if it were Jekyll or Poole's voices he wouldn't have stopped at all.

Meanwhile Jekyll frets.

Paloma thought that may be the case, even if the undercurrent of resentment hadn't seemed to revolve around their paternalism. That jab at Jekyll about overachieving was a big hint.

Aware of just how thin the ice she's walking on is, she swallows and pivots toward the stairs to follow sedately. "You mind if I come with?"

"Suit yourself." He shrugs, jamming his hands in his pockets. But despite his tone, he waits for her to catch up. So evidently, yes, he'd like that.

She appreciates it. Speedwalking up a staircase in high heels and a semi-restrictive dress is a recipe for tragedy.

Paloma pulls up alongside him at last, but unlike the ease with which she'd adapted to hanging on his brother's arm, doing the same with Edward feels a tad too daring. She tries on a wavering half-smile between 'exercising desk jockey' ragged breaths.

"Cool. You don't have to say anything about what just happened, either."

He takes her hand himself to pull her along toward his room. "He just pisses me off. Since he's so goddamn perfect they have to make a big deal out of it if I do something permissable to high quality people to make up for it. I bet you didn't even know there was a brother until you saw me."

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