Uncharted: Drake's Fortune belongs to Naughty Dog and Sony Computer Entertainment.
So, what happened after Nate, Elena, and Sully all ran off with their portion of the El Dorado gold, you ask? Well, this is my 'extended' version of the game's ending. Enjoy!
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Down By The Water
As the band started up again, Nate found himself craving fresh air. He filtered through the throng of dancers, making a beeline for the exit, ignoring or gently pushing aside the various hands reaching out to him. Parties were always fun, but it was usually only a matter of time before he began to feel a little crowded. On his way, a passing waiter offered him another bottle of Panamanian beer, the aptly named Panama, which Nate accepted. It was only his fourth, after all. No, wait . . . fifth? Fourth! Definitely fourth. Maybe. Not that mattered, really. This was a time to celebrate, and he fully intended to take advantage of the wealth that had suddenly fallen into his possession. Well, their possession, really. He couldn't exactly downplay the role Sully and Elena had in helping him. In fact, Nate was quite comfortable admitting that he would most likely be dead right now, if it hadn't been for them watching his back.
Upon reaching the exit, he turned to search for only two familiar faces at the beach party with him. Sully was easy enough to spot; he hadn't moved from his seat at the bar, next to a voluptuous Spanish heart-breaker, who seemed to be paying very close attention to whatever it is the older gentleman was saying. Cigar in one hand and a stiff drink in the other, Sully was completely in his element. It never ceased to amaze Nate how successful his partner seemed to be with the ladies, even the ones that looked nearly half his age. But it wasn't his place to ponder these things, mostly because he really, really didn't want to.
A flash of blonde hair caught his eye next, standing out in a sea of brunettes. Elena had been throwing back her fair share of liquor, determined not to be outdone by her male counterparts, but she seemed to be carrying it well. Her dancing was as graceful and controlled as it had been since they first arrived at this unassuming little beach party, though he could see she was getting a little more adventurous in her moves. Like most of the other women there, she was wearing a simple two-piece bathing suit, dark blue, that had been leaving very little to Nate's imagination since she first modeled it for him in the store that afternoon. However, for the sake of her modest American sensibilities, a short gold sarong now joined the ensemble, because Heaven forbid the world learns that Elena Fisher has a spectacular ass. Which she did. Not that Nate had been staring.
Staring now, actually, at the intrepid young man easing up behind the blonde reporter on the dance floor. Elena glanced up at him over her shoulder as he placed a hand on her hip, and then smiled to signal her consent. It wasn't until he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer that Nate realized he was gritting his teeth. He had to remind himself, quite forcefully, that Elena was a grown woman, and more than capable of holding her own. She always had that mean right hook of hers to deal with any wandering hands she didn't invite.
Suddenly, she looked over in his direction and locked eyes with him. He held her gaze for a moment before the party suddenly felt a little too stifling. Taking one last swig of beer, Nate turned away and headed out into the night, relishing the cool ocean breeze rushing to meet him. With hardly any clouds in the sky, the full moon brilliantly illuminated the beach stretched out before him, lighting up the sugar-white sand and the waves cresting on the shore. Palm trees swayed lazily to and fro, and even the lingering scent of cigarette smoke did little to diminish the view's postcard quality.
Barefoot, Nate set the bottle aside and shoved his hands in the pockets of his board shorts as he set out towards the water. It had been too hot in the party for his long-sleeved shirt, but he was glad of it now that he was out on the beach. The music slowly faded behind him, replaced by the rhythmic roar and sigh of waves.
It was a little hard to believe that only three days ago he had stopped a pestilence from breaking out in the world, fought zombies (as he preferred to think of them), single-handedly battled against a small army of criminals and smugglers, and still managed to bag himself a hefty amount of old Spanish gold, all the while keeping himself, Sully, and Elena alive. El Dorado would, ideally, stay at the bottom of the ocean, along with Navarro's well-placed corpse. Some things are just not worth an apocalyptic curse, he supposed, no matter how much money was at stake.
He almost didn't hear Elena calling his name until she was only a few feet away. Slightly startled, he turned to greet her with an automatic smile that she did not return. Instead she reached out and put a hand on his arm, her expression somewhere between concern and curiosity.
"What's up?" she asked, ignoring the wind as it toyed with her hair. Nate was still getting used to seeing it worn down. It was pretty damn distracting, the way it framed her face.
"Nothing," he replied, staring down at her. "Not a thing."
"You seemed upset inside." She shrugged a little and looked out to the sea.
"Nah, I was just making sure Lord of the Dance wasn't getting too 'hands-on' with you, if you get what I mean," he explained, truthfully.
"All the men here are slightly more 'hands-on' than what I'm used to," she confessed, somewhat wryly. "But I assure you he was a perfect Panamanian gentleman."
"Is that supposed to reassure me?"
She just laughed and then hugged herself, and Nate was fairly sure he detected the faint sound of her teeth chattering together.
"You cold?"
"A little."
He wrapped an arm around her and pressed her against his side, rubbing her skin to get the blood flowing. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to let it rest on his shoulder.
"I always come back to this place," Nate said finally, after a comfortable span of silence. "I miss it whenever I'm somewhere else for a long time. My dad used to take me here a lot when I was a kid."
"Really?" Elena glanced up at him briefly. "What did you guys do here?"
He smiled a little at the memories. "Hunted for treasure, mostly. It's kind of a family business."
"Ever find anything good?" she asked, slightly teasingly.
"Nope," he chuckled. "Couple of Embera Indian artifacts, but nothing major. It was always a blast, though."
"What about your mom? Was she ever into treasure hunting?" Elena's voice sounded faint, almost on the verge of dozing.
"She left when I was still really young," he admitted with a light shrug. "She always wanted stability, but my dad was always on the move."
Elena's arm circled around his waist. "I'll bet she missed out on a lot of adventures."
"Yeah, she did," he agreed, turning to rest his chin on top of her head. "What about you? What led you to the world of journalism?"
"Nothing, really," she admitted. "Sometimes you're just born knowing what you want to do. My parents were lawyers, and I'm pretty sure that's what they had in mind for me too, but I always knew I was going to be a writer. Apparently I was a natural storyteller."
"You mean pathological liar?"
"Oh, not always. I grew up eventually. At college."
He laughed a little, having no trouble picturing the strong-willed woman next to him as an even more stubborn teenager. He then promptly shuddered at the image and felt a wave of sympathy for her parents.
They were quiet again for another long while before Elena sighed deeply.
"I almost wish I didn't have to leave," she revealed. "LA feels so far away, like it's on a different planet."
Something hard and cold grabbed a hold of his stomach at that moment. Truthfully, he hadn't even thought about the fact that she had another life to go back to. One that didn't include him. He frowned and unconsciously pulled her a bit closer. She obligingly wrapped her other arm around his middle, her voice sounding sleepy again as she rested her cheek against him. "I mean, it's bad enough that I've been screening my boss's phone calls. Sooner or later he's going to want a reason why there is no camera, and no story to pay for that uninsured boat of ours."
"Do you have to go?" he asked, before he stopped to think about it.
She lifted her head to look him in the eye.
"So soon, I mean," he amended quickly. "It's just . . . you've been through some pretty heavy stuff, you know? We all did. Three days doesn't sound like a long time to recuperate. I'm sure your boss would understand if you needed a break, or something."
She regarded him for an uncomfortably long time before a slow, suspicious grin broke out. "Or maybe," she speculated, looking rather amused, "a certain someone is, shall we say, reluctant to see me go?"
"Well, I don't think Sully cares either way, but you know, I am personally just trying to look out for your mental health."
She punched his arm, though still grinning. "Admit it, Mr. Drake, you have taken a shine to me."
"I admit nothing!" he protested, dodging another blow. "And hey, a violent temper is a side effect of post-traumatic stress. Clearly, Miss Fisher, you need a vacation."
Elena sighed in a long-suffering sort of way. "You are impossibly smooth. No wonder you haven't been shot yet."
"Oh, I've been shot," he admitted with a slightly proud smile, "and plenty of times. Just, you know, not fatally or anything."
"How unfortunate," Elena deadpanned.
"And let's not forget that I still owe you a story, right?" Nate reminded her eagerly. "So, give me a bit more time and I'm sure I can whip something up for you. Something good. Something huge! Well, huge enough to make your boss not want to kill you when you eventually get back."
"If the next wild and crazy adventure doesn't kill me first."
"Well, you made it through this time, right?"
She stopped at that, and something passed through her eyes that told Nate she was remembering what they had just been through. When she looked back up at him, there was something different in her eyes, voice. Something softer. "You know, you're right." she said finally. "I did make it out of there alive. And I'm pretty sure it's because you were with me."
Taken aback at the sudden turn in her demeanour, Nate couldn't find it in himself to look away from her, like he normally would have when a woman was gazing up at him that way. He swallowed a little, and then tried to shrug it off. Danger was a normal part of his job. Hell, that's part of the reason why he liked it so much.
"Yeah, well, you also could have avoided all that if I hadn't dragged you into it."
"You didn't drag me anywhere," she insisted, taking a step closer to him, "except out of that nightmare. I followed you, remember?"
"Are you forgetting all the times you had my back too?" he prompted, only to have her finger suddenly placed on his mouth, silencing him.
"Nate, for God's sake, I'm trying to say thank you. Stop being so damn noble about it," she laughed, before letting her finger slide down to trace his jaw. "And since you saw fit to stick with me through all that, I guess the least I can do is hang around you a while longer."
He blinked, feeling every hair on his body standing on end at her touch. "Really?"
"Really," she confirmed, just as she went up on her toes to give him a light kiss. "And you are going to get so sick of me that you'll wish I had flown back in LA instead."
"I'm pretty sure that's not gonna take long, but you never know."
"You never know," she agreed, a fraction of a second before his lips were on hers again.