A CHRISTMAS INTERLUDE
CROFT MANOR, SURREY
Zwiipppp!
"Bugger!"
Sam and Elsie exchanged a conspirational look as Lara moved off to flip the well-worn Christmas record on the antiquated gramophone. It was time.
The blonde scurried over to the fireplace and retrieved her gift hidden behind the divan.
Lara winced as the needle skipped briefly before the familiar baritone of Bing Crosby began crackling from the tarnished brass horn.
"I gotcha something!"
Lara turned just in time to grasp the package thrust into her midsection. The blonde had timed it perfectly: by forcing the archaeologist to react instinctively, she avoided the possibility that the brunette might refuse to touch it.
"Wha - Elsie, we agreed! No presents!"
"Oh come on, it's not a big deal," returned the blonde. "I promise, it cost less than ten bucks. Or, about six pounds over here, I guess."
"Come on, sweetie, open it," encouraged Sam as she and Doppie continued wrapping garlands around the Christmas tree. "I'm curious."
The archaeologist looked from the filmmaker to the blonde and huffed.
"Oh...fine, then."
Gingerly removing the bow and ribbons, the brunette proceeded to strip off the tartan-patterned gift wrap. Elsie hovered nearby, bouncing in anticipation.
Lara removed the cardboard cover.
"Um..."
"Whaddya think?" chirped the blonde excitedly.
Lara swallowed. "Thank you, Elsie...it's...lovely..."
"Well, put it on!"
The brunette's eyes grew wide. "You mean...now?"
"Well sure!" exclaimed the blonde enthusiastically. "When else are you gonna wear it?"
Sam recognized Lara's expression of barely concealed horror.
The Englishwoman's voice was barely audible. "When else indeed..."
The filmmaker let out a cough to disguise her guffaw as Lara donned the sweater, an outrageously garish Christmas-themed garment replete with comic reindeer and penguins that looked straight out of a National Lampoon production.
"It's perfect!" squealed the blonde, clapping her hands together in delight.
"Um...it's a bit...large," countered Lara as she held her arms out for emphasis.
"That makes it cozy!" returned Elsie.
Sam bit her knuckle; the brunette's hands could not be seen, the sleeves hanging down several inches beyond the tips of her extremities.
Doppie left Sam to tend the tree and approached her template, a long narrow package in hand.
"This is for you," announced the redhead as she proffered the gift before the archaeologist.
Lara let out a sharp breath of incredulousness as she eyed the box. "I said, no presents!"
The redhead arched an eyebrow.
"You made no such request of me, I assure you."
"But...I thought it was understood..."
"Oh, come on," pleaded Elsie. "It's rude to refuse a present, especially at Christmas. You wouldn't want to hurt Doppie's feelings, now, would you?"
Lara glanced at Sam in desperation but found no support from the filmmaker, the Asian-American unable to stifle a grin.
"Oh, bugger all..."
Pulling her sleeves up to enable her hands to grasp the package, Lara proceeded to remove the scarlet gift wrap, revealing a jet black box roughly eighteen inches long and hinged at the back.
The brunette raised the lid.
- and quickly snapped it shut with a loud snap, her cheeks flushing furiously.
"What is it?" asked the blonde, edging closer. "C'mon, show us."
The brunette ignored the request. "Thank you, Doppie...it's very...thoughtful..."
"I thought it might prove useful in your expeditions," explained the doppelgänger. "During those isolated periods when you have no one to - "
"Yes! Yes, I understand, thank you."
The redhead continued: "I endeavoured to select a model that will add minimal weight to your existing gear."
Sam had never seen her companion's face so deeply scarlet.
"That's...very considerate of you," rasped the brunette. "But...I don't think it's the sort of thing I would want to strap on my belt..."
Elsie made a grab for the gift. The brunette yanked it away, holding the box far over her head.
Far from dissuaded, the blonde continued to try and snatch the case, the Englishwoman rearing up on her tiptoes in a desperate attempt to keep it beyond the young woman's reach.
"Gimme gimme gimme!"
"Get away!"
"I wanna see!"
"NO!"
The blonde lunged, very nearly managing to knock the box from the Englishwoman's grasp.
The sight of Lara frantically fumbling the case before clutching it protectively to her chest caused the filmmaker to burst out in laughter.
"You little sprite!"
"Gimme!"
In desperation the archaeologist bolted to one of the bookcases on the far wall, scrambling up the tome-filled shelves with familiar agility. Sliding the box atop the dust-covered cabinet, the brunette dropped back to the floor and eyed the American warily.
Sam watched as Elsie edged close to the bookcase.
"Don't even think it!" warned the archaeologist, eliciting a blown raspberry from the blonde.
It was Sam's turn.
She retrieved her package from behind the divan and presented it to the brunette. "Here you go, sweetie."
Lara's shoulders sagged as the took the gift from the filmmaker. "Et tu, Sam?"
"Why, I don't know what you mean," returned the Asian-American, feigning innocence.
Lara picked up on her companion's duplicitous tone. Eyeing each of the women in the room in turn, her gaze became laced with suspicion - followed moments later by an explosive realization.
"You...you planned this!" exclaimed the brunette. "All of you! It's a conspiracy! A plot!"
"The word 'plot' sounds so insidious," remarked Elsie.
"We prefer the term 'coordinated action plan'," echoed Sam.
Lara turned and glared at her doppelgänger.
"And you? I can see these two colluding on something like this, what's your story?"
"If it assuages you," offered the redhead, "my complicity was not easily bought."
Lara's eyes narrowed.
"How many pancakes did it take?"
Doppie arched an eyebrow.
"If you must know...six."
"Bloody Hell," swore the brunette. "I've been sacrificed for half a dozen flapjacks, how am I sup- GET DOWN FROM THERE!"
Elsie jumped down from the bookcase's third shelf, having the aspect of a child caught raiding the cookie jar.
"Oh, come on, sweetie," cooed Sam as she stroked the brunette's shoulder. "We're just trying to get you to shake off that infamous English reserve, is all. Let loose a little."
"What you call 'reserve'," grumbled the archaeologist, "I prefer to call dignity."
"Lara, look around you," countered the filmmaker. "You're surrounded by people who love you. You'll never lose dignity in our eyes."
The brunette gazed into her companion's eyes. Sam could see the memories of adventures past flash through her companion's pupils. Pain. Suffering. Loss.
Love.
It was the love that shone brightest.
Lara sighed.
And began to laugh softly.
"All right," said the brunette, shaking her head. "All right...let's just...get it done. I suppose one more act of humiliation won't kill me..."
"That's our girl!" exclaimed Elsie brightly.
The archaeologist resignedly set the gift atop a stack of boxes of Christmas decorations and tore off the wrapper.
She pulled off the cardboard lid and let it drop to the floor.
"Of course."
Sam grinned.
Splayed out in the box were a pair of reindeer antlers tied to a headband decorated with glittering snowmen.
The brunette seemed paralyzed.
"Would you like some help, sweetie?" offered the filmmaker.
Lara managed a slight nod.
Sam carefully unpacked the antlers, the brunette closing her eyes in preparation for the inevitable.
"Just one more...just one more," she whispered. "You can do this..."
The Asian-American gently slipped the reindeer crown atop the brunette's head.
"There," breathed the filmmaker, stepping back in satisfaction once the headband was snugly in place.
"Oh my God, that's adorable!" squealed Elsie.
Lara took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes.
"Well you all look quite chuffed," remarked the brunette.
Doppie drew up to the Englishwoman. Sam could tell from Lara's body language that the redhead had slipped well inside the brunette's personal space.
"Um...yes?"
"I believe tradition dictates a certain protocol in these situations."
"I...I'm not sure what - "
Doppie nudged her chin upwards, raising her gaze just above the archaeologist's forehead. The brunette's eyes slowly craned up in their sockets.
There, suspended by a thin hooked wire attached to the front of the archaeologist's headband, hung a tiny ball of mistletoe.
"Oh, God..."
The redhead inched closer.
Lara edged back only to find her retreat blocked by prickly Christmas tree branches sticking the small of her back.
"Doppie...this really isn't the place...or time," croaked the brunette.
"On the contrary," said the doppelgänger in a low voice as she leaned in. "Convention dictates it is both."
"She's right, you know."
"Besides, we're next in line."
"I...but...but..."
Identical lips brushed.
A soft sigh emanated from the Englishwoman.
"Oh, what the Hell..."
She gave herself to her template, the redhead's pale arms snaking around the back of Lara's skull.
"Happy Christmas, Lara Croft," whispered Doppie in the brief moment before their tongues merged.
Lara melted into her duplicate.
Some traditions were worth preserving.