A/N: Drumroll please! Didn't I say I had a sequel ready to go? :D Also,
sorry for the long wait, guys! I was having difficulties logging in. This
would have been up days ago, but I only just found out how to fix the
problem.
Disclaimer: All aspects of Tomb Raider belong to Eidos and Crystal Dynamics. This means that, sadly, Kurtis is not mine. *Sniff*
Prologue
_______________________________________________________________________
Streets
Rome, Italy, May 15th, 2004
She surged panting through undulating shadows, her passage marked only by the soft thunk of booted feet on stone. The chill night air snaked to kiss exposed flesh, raising goosebumps against otherwise unblemished flesh. Dark hair, glistening beneath the moon's glittering touch, whipped at her back in a single thick cord.
The brisk spring night did nothing to deter the sprinting woman, its cold instead invigorating her, driving her to speeds enviable by most other human beings. Both toned arms pumped at either side of her athletic body, a smile flitting briefly across a seductively curved mouth.
She loosened the weapon at her side, and dodged around a silent building, mahogany gaze settling on the Harley Sportster 883 gleaming in wait only a few feet away.
Her hasty flight paused only a moment; she stumbled to a halt to fumble in the front pocket of the dark shorts encasing well-rounded hips, and withdrew the keys to her bike.
*So far so good.* she thought, and vaulted easily onto the machine.
The engine thrummed to life, its throaty purr rumbling beneath shapely legs. *I suppose they didn't follow me after all.*
The better for them, then, if they hadn't tempted fate and pursued the one- woman arsenal through dark alleys where not a soul would hear them scream when she took their lives.
Smiling again, a touch of wicked delight in the curve of plump lips, she removed the coveted item from a pouch on the gunbelt encircling her slender waist.
It appeared harmless, unimportant even, but the small computer diskette contained the key to an enormous void in her life. A journal typed and composed on her dead mentor's computer and saved to disk, a document following every possible lead and investigation into the disappearance of renowned archaeologist Lara Croft after a tragic accident in Egypt almost two years ago. She hoped, with the help of this disk, pilfered from an associate of Von Croy's who'd been rather reluctant to give it up, to piece together her broken life. *It'll be nice to finally have a little stability again. None of that soul-searching shit, of course, but I'd like to know the whole story.*
She touched the square object to full lips in a soft kiss, and with another satisfied smirk, slipped it once more into its resting place.
1000 cc's of power thundered beneath the bare flesh of her thighs. She revved the engine, taking pleasure in its masculine cry, and shifted smoothly into gear.
Not far away, unnoticed by Lara, a lone figure quietly smoked, one strong shoulder resting against hard brick. The man observed her vehicle, memorizing its shape, color, and license plate as she sped away, his intense gaze never once straying to the indistinct figure perched atop it.
Then, as she disappeared into surrounding blackness, he stole quietly to his own motorcycle, and roared off down the alleyway after her.
* * *
She sensed his presence only a minute or so later.
Immediately, Lara swerved onto a narrow side road, the bike's tires squealing in protest at the abrupt maneuver. She leaned into the turn, riding it out, moving easily with her vehicle until it righted itself once more. Dirt plumed upward, lifting in a hazy veil which would complicate things for her pursuer, though regrettably not enough to discourage him.
The thunder of his own bike exploded behind her, disturbingly near.
She opened the throttle and surged forward, bending low to avoid any bullets he might send her way. The road threaded between darkened buildings, continuing straight for an agonizing moment before veering into a treacherous corner around a silent office building.
Lara took it at nearly 80 mph, braking only when she felt the bike begin to skid, its end fishtailing in protest to the high-speed chase. She pushed it onward, weaving through the darkness as the man tailing her screeched around the curve at a speed only slightly less than her own.
*I hope you fall, bastard.*
Her Sportster bumped down onto pavement once more. She blew through a stop sign without once tapping the brake, the chill breeze generated by the bike's speed flowing all around her, tearing at the gray T-shirt she'd donned that morning. She felt its thin material rippling around the corded muscles of her lithe body.
Both motorcycles rounded another bend in the road, their riders expertly clinging to perspiration-slick handlebars.
Glistening pavement streamed in a thin ebony ribbon beneath her.
She swerved onto the sidewalk with a hard jerk of the handlebars, weaving amongst the street lights in a tight figure-eight pattern. Her fingertips touched chill steel, closing securely around the .38 Smith & Wesson revolver tucked into Lara's right holster. She prized the gun for its amazing accuracy and easy handling, and had chosen it for this little trip as opposed to heavier firepower, not expecting any heavy duty gunfights.
Concentrating on the road, she reluctantly stayed an itchy trigger finger, and released her weapon. There was no need for it yet, and taking her eyes from the road to snap off a few shots at her new friend could prove fatal.
She skidded into a sharp left turn, her boot nearly grazing cement as she reversed directions in a move that took her right past him. She tossed a friendly wave in passing, using only a single finger, not bothering to glance at his face.
*Come and get me.*
Excitement welled inside her, an adrenaline rush only something like this could produce, the dangers of living a life such as hers awakening a fire inside Lara as nothing else could. *Nothing except for the touch of a man you haven't seen in nine months and don't care to think about anymore.* she thought darkly, then savagely shook her head. Distractions were not welcome at this stage in the game.
* * *
He muttered a low curse as she accelerated past him, and slammed a hand down on the brake, the abrupt halt of forward momentum nearly hurling him over the handlebars. "Fuck." he said quietly, and spun his bike in a tight one- hundred-eighty degree circle.
He lifted a hand into chill air, and half-stood, both muscular legs straddling his bike. Long lashes eclipsed intense orbs for a single moment, power humming within him.
The man released it, a smirk creasing ruggedly handsome features as a sign swinging from a nearby building thundered down, clattering to a reluctant halt directly in front of the woman's tires.
She braked hard, and swerved to avoid it, but not quickly enough.
Her front tire caught the obstacle, thrusting the bike high into the air, her slender body arching far over the crumpled motorcycle. She dove toward hard pavement, knifing her body straight down, turning the fall into a somersault, her acrobatics depositing her neatly back onto booted feet.
He smiled.
She surged forward in a desperate sprint, arms pumping, sweat flowing thick.
He gunned his engine.
* * *
Lara veered up onto the sidewalk as he neared, just evading his grasp as he slowed his bike to reach for her. She thrust a foot against the wall to her left, leaping upward in a magnificent show of athleticism, her lithe body turning a flip mid-air, a slender gloved hand drawing her revolver in the same fluid motion.
She spun, and dropped to a crouch, her bullets puncturing one of his tires before he had a chance to swerve out of harm's way.
The bike jerked violently, the vicious movement nearly hurling him over the machine to land in a broken pile on the road. He slammed a hand against the brake handle, sending the bike into a hard skid, rainwater pluming from the tires as they struggled for purchase against glistening pavement.
He jumped free of it at precisely the right moment, clearing the wreckage with an ease that she had to admire.
*But, too bad.* Lara thought, and raised her gun again. *I'm not going to give you a second chance to kill me.*
The gun leapt free of her hand, snagged by an oddly-shaped object which thrust by her right ear too quickly for her to identify. She spun to the wall at her back, and froze, full lips parting in shock.
"Bloody hell."
It lay pinned against hard brick, trapped by a series of blades protruding from an all-too-familiar discus, a brief fiery glow enveloping the Chirugai for a moment before dying into oblivion.
Lara pivoted to face him, eyes wide in a pallid face.
He gripped his Boran X one-handed now, its sights trained directly between her eyes.
"Kurtis." she said quietly, at the same moment his thick eyebrows lifted in recognition.
They peered at one another a moment, his firearm drooping limply to one side. Those brilliant orbs perused her face as coldly as ever, but a vague flash of uncertainty lingered briefly in their depths.
She paced forward a step, the move unconscious, their warm bodies drawing nearer to one another. For a moment, she thought he would take a step forward as well. Then he lifted a strong hand, and the Chirugai trembled free of the wall.
Lara's gun clattered to a reluctant rest at her feet.
They held one another's gaze as he slowly backed away, the Glaive descending onto his waiting fingertips.
He stared at her a moment longer, wordlessly, then lifted two fingers in a mock little salute she knew well, and with a brief, familiar smirk, disappeared into the surrounding night.
Disclaimer: All aspects of Tomb Raider belong to Eidos and Crystal Dynamics. This means that, sadly, Kurtis is not mine. *Sniff*
Prologue
_______________________________________________________________________
Streets
Rome, Italy, May 15th, 2004
She surged panting through undulating shadows, her passage marked only by the soft thunk of booted feet on stone. The chill night air snaked to kiss exposed flesh, raising goosebumps against otherwise unblemished flesh. Dark hair, glistening beneath the moon's glittering touch, whipped at her back in a single thick cord.
The brisk spring night did nothing to deter the sprinting woman, its cold instead invigorating her, driving her to speeds enviable by most other human beings. Both toned arms pumped at either side of her athletic body, a smile flitting briefly across a seductively curved mouth.
She loosened the weapon at her side, and dodged around a silent building, mahogany gaze settling on the Harley Sportster 883 gleaming in wait only a few feet away.
Her hasty flight paused only a moment; she stumbled to a halt to fumble in the front pocket of the dark shorts encasing well-rounded hips, and withdrew the keys to her bike.
*So far so good.* she thought, and vaulted easily onto the machine.
The engine thrummed to life, its throaty purr rumbling beneath shapely legs. *I suppose they didn't follow me after all.*
The better for them, then, if they hadn't tempted fate and pursued the one- woman arsenal through dark alleys where not a soul would hear them scream when she took their lives.
Smiling again, a touch of wicked delight in the curve of plump lips, she removed the coveted item from a pouch on the gunbelt encircling her slender waist.
It appeared harmless, unimportant even, but the small computer diskette contained the key to an enormous void in her life. A journal typed and composed on her dead mentor's computer and saved to disk, a document following every possible lead and investigation into the disappearance of renowned archaeologist Lara Croft after a tragic accident in Egypt almost two years ago. She hoped, with the help of this disk, pilfered from an associate of Von Croy's who'd been rather reluctant to give it up, to piece together her broken life. *It'll be nice to finally have a little stability again. None of that soul-searching shit, of course, but I'd like to know the whole story.*
She touched the square object to full lips in a soft kiss, and with another satisfied smirk, slipped it once more into its resting place.
1000 cc's of power thundered beneath the bare flesh of her thighs. She revved the engine, taking pleasure in its masculine cry, and shifted smoothly into gear.
Not far away, unnoticed by Lara, a lone figure quietly smoked, one strong shoulder resting against hard brick. The man observed her vehicle, memorizing its shape, color, and license plate as she sped away, his intense gaze never once straying to the indistinct figure perched atop it.
Then, as she disappeared into surrounding blackness, he stole quietly to his own motorcycle, and roared off down the alleyway after her.
* * *
She sensed his presence only a minute or so later.
Immediately, Lara swerved onto a narrow side road, the bike's tires squealing in protest at the abrupt maneuver. She leaned into the turn, riding it out, moving easily with her vehicle until it righted itself once more. Dirt plumed upward, lifting in a hazy veil which would complicate things for her pursuer, though regrettably not enough to discourage him.
The thunder of his own bike exploded behind her, disturbingly near.
She opened the throttle and surged forward, bending low to avoid any bullets he might send her way. The road threaded between darkened buildings, continuing straight for an agonizing moment before veering into a treacherous corner around a silent office building.
Lara took it at nearly 80 mph, braking only when she felt the bike begin to skid, its end fishtailing in protest to the high-speed chase. She pushed it onward, weaving through the darkness as the man tailing her screeched around the curve at a speed only slightly less than her own.
*I hope you fall, bastard.*
Her Sportster bumped down onto pavement once more. She blew through a stop sign without once tapping the brake, the chill breeze generated by the bike's speed flowing all around her, tearing at the gray T-shirt she'd donned that morning. She felt its thin material rippling around the corded muscles of her lithe body.
Both motorcycles rounded another bend in the road, their riders expertly clinging to perspiration-slick handlebars.
Glistening pavement streamed in a thin ebony ribbon beneath her.
She swerved onto the sidewalk with a hard jerk of the handlebars, weaving amongst the street lights in a tight figure-eight pattern. Her fingertips touched chill steel, closing securely around the .38 Smith & Wesson revolver tucked into Lara's right holster. She prized the gun for its amazing accuracy and easy handling, and had chosen it for this little trip as opposed to heavier firepower, not expecting any heavy duty gunfights.
Concentrating on the road, she reluctantly stayed an itchy trigger finger, and released her weapon. There was no need for it yet, and taking her eyes from the road to snap off a few shots at her new friend could prove fatal.
She skidded into a sharp left turn, her boot nearly grazing cement as she reversed directions in a move that took her right past him. She tossed a friendly wave in passing, using only a single finger, not bothering to glance at his face.
*Come and get me.*
Excitement welled inside her, an adrenaline rush only something like this could produce, the dangers of living a life such as hers awakening a fire inside Lara as nothing else could. *Nothing except for the touch of a man you haven't seen in nine months and don't care to think about anymore.* she thought darkly, then savagely shook her head. Distractions were not welcome at this stage in the game.
* * *
He muttered a low curse as she accelerated past him, and slammed a hand down on the brake, the abrupt halt of forward momentum nearly hurling him over the handlebars. "Fuck." he said quietly, and spun his bike in a tight one- hundred-eighty degree circle.
He lifted a hand into chill air, and half-stood, both muscular legs straddling his bike. Long lashes eclipsed intense orbs for a single moment, power humming within him.
The man released it, a smirk creasing ruggedly handsome features as a sign swinging from a nearby building thundered down, clattering to a reluctant halt directly in front of the woman's tires.
She braked hard, and swerved to avoid it, but not quickly enough.
Her front tire caught the obstacle, thrusting the bike high into the air, her slender body arching far over the crumpled motorcycle. She dove toward hard pavement, knifing her body straight down, turning the fall into a somersault, her acrobatics depositing her neatly back onto booted feet.
He smiled.
She surged forward in a desperate sprint, arms pumping, sweat flowing thick.
He gunned his engine.
* * *
Lara veered up onto the sidewalk as he neared, just evading his grasp as he slowed his bike to reach for her. She thrust a foot against the wall to her left, leaping upward in a magnificent show of athleticism, her lithe body turning a flip mid-air, a slender gloved hand drawing her revolver in the same fluid motion.
She spun, and dropped to a crouch, her bullets puncturing one of his tires before he had a chance to swerve out of harm's way.
The bike jerked violently, the vicious movement nearly hurling him over the machine to land in a broken pile on the road. He slammed a hand against the brake handle, sending the bike into a hard skid, rainwater pluming from the tires as they struggled for purchase against glistening pavement.
He jumped free of it at precisely the right moment, clearing the wreckage with an ease that she had to admire.
*But, too bad.* Lara thought, and raised her gun again. *I'm not going to give you a second chance to kill me.*
The gun leapt free of her hand, snagged by an oddly-shaped object which thrust by her right ear too quickly for her to identify. She spun to the wall at her back, and froze, full lips parting in shock.
"Bloody hell."
It lay pinned against hard brick, trapped by a series of blades protruding from an all-too-familiar discus, a brief fiery glow enveloping the Chirugai for a moment before dying into oblivion.
Lara pivoted to face him, eyes wide in a pallid face.
He gripped his Boran X one-handed now, its sights trained directly between her eyes.
"Kurtis." she said quietly, at the same moment his thick eyebrows lifted in recognition.
They peered at one another a moment, his firearm drooping limply to one side. Those brilliant orbs perused her face as coldly as ever, but a vague flash of uncertainty lingered briefly in their depths.
She paced forward a step, the move unconscious, their warm bodies drawing nearer to one another. For a moment, she thought he would take a step forward as well. Then he lifted a strong hand, and the Chirugai trembled free of the wall.
Lara's gun clattered to a reluctant rest at her feet.
They held one another's gaze as he slowly backed away, the Glaive descending onto his waiting fingertips.
He stared at her a moment longer, wordlessly, then lifted two fingers in a mock little salute she knew well, and with a brief, familiar smirk, disappeared into the surrounding night.