Author's Note: Once upon a time, there were some very nifty Lara/Hillary stories on this site. I don't know what happened (they might have been NC-17, in which case I know EXACTLY what happened) but one day they just vanished. Those of us who love this pairing were bummed, I'm sure. I watched Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life on New Years Day and was taken with how groovy a couple Lara and Hilly would make, if the filmmakers were ever bright enough to play with that idea. However, we all know they aren't, which brings us to the story below. I too was quite taken with the killer sparring scene, and thought their chemistry was just too bloody good to ignore.
So, submitted for your approval, is the following story. I would appreciate feedback, especially to see if there is any interest in further adventures with these two.
Of course, I might just write a few more regardless.
Oh, by the way, Tomb Raider is the property of Eidos Interactive and Paramount Pictures. No copyright infringement intended-in other words, don't bloody sue!
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Tomb Raider : Revelation
By Dani Fleming
I returned from Greece changed. I had just lost three people very dear to me, and the treasure I fought so hard to locate. I wanted revenge. Anger was an invited guest in my heart, and my 'family', Bryce and Hillary, were often on the receiving end. I needed to let off steam, and in the past that has always meant a rigorous workout and sparring match.
On this day, I decided to forgo the workout and go straight to the duel.
I walked into the weapons room, trying to discern the proper tool to do the most damage with.
A voice from the doorway stated, "You did recently state that you needed to brush up on your hand to hand skills. How about these?" My butler, confidante, and general best friend suggested. Hillary always seemed to know the perfect remedy, the right thing to say, the right way to say it. He was a great and steady constant in my life and I couldn't imagine life without him around.
I walked closer to where he stood and appraised his choice of equipment- Chinese fighting staffs. A perfect way to get out one's frustration.
"Not bad, Hillary," I nodded. He smiled, already knowing I would like his selection. I turned to go get ready.
"Suit up and meet me in the training room in 10 minutes," I called over my shoulder.
********************************************************************************
Exactaly 10 minutes later, Hilly and I stood across from each other in the light-filled sparring room. When using any weapon, it is often times best to wear clothing that corresponds to the region.
After all, they did have good reasons for the attire they chose.
In light of this, I suited up in an black, sleeveless Gi. It provided just enough room for the ease of movement needed in this style of combat. Hilly was attired in deep blue, with one exception: he also wore a protective fencing guard on his face. I mentally shook my head. Poor Hilly. Did he really think I'd be so cruel as to serve a face blow?
Of course in my current state of mind, one's sparring partner couldn't be too careful.
We took on our first stance positions and then began. I admit that after my last mission, there hadn't been much need for combat, hand to hand or otherwise, and it showed. I was rusty, and Hilly made good use of that handicap. For every attack I made, he seemed to possess a perfect counter move, each block and parry in lightening quick precision.
We moved into the foyer and here I regained the upper hand. Hilly was a good 6 inches taller than me and had about twice over my body mass, but his moves were every bit as skilled and fluid as mine. The slight narrowing of the entry hall gave him a disadvantage, which helped increase the accuracy of my attack.
"Why Lara, I didn't think you still had any fight left," he egged me on, sweat pouring through his ridiculous mask.
If his intention was to bring out my previously stellar prowess, I certainly wasn't going to disappoint.
I came at him with a renewed vigor, helped along by my grief and frustration at not yet finding those responsible. I came at him fast and unrelenting, to the point where he finally found that silly mask a hindrance and threw it off. We froze, getting our bearings, keeping our eyes trained on the other. In the heat of battle we forgot our usual roles- I Lara Croft, tomb raider extraordinare and consummate everygirl. He Nicholas Hillary, stoic dependable butler and man I would trust with my life.
I studied the interesting shape of his face, the soulful brown of his eyes. He was red-faced, sweating profusely and trying to regulate his breathing. I had a flash of us, locked in an heated battle, only this time sweating and breathing heavily together in my room. Engaged in a completely different sort of combat.
Was I utterly mad?!
I shook my head and returned to the task at hand.
If he noticed my previous moment of shock, he hid it very well, for he started a full on attack not missing a beat. It was as much a battle of wills as it was a simple training session. As we continued I mused at how lucky I was to find such a good butler who was not only adroit at running a mansion with skill and ease, but able to hold his own against me in a fight. This train of thought was quickly abandoned as we moved into the library. Christian Bryce sat at the computer trying to decipher the pictures I'd brought back on my camera.
"What have you got so far?" I jumped and made a successful blow on Hilly's shoulder.
"Not a whole lot. I'm at about 40% resonance with this, " he gestured at the slow-forming image of the Alexander Stone. "but I'm not getting much help from these pics you brought back, Lara. Your cam took on a whole lot of water, and the shots are all grainy." He frowned.
I spun around to catch Hilly behind the knees but was met with resistance by his weapon.
'Damn he's good,' I thought.
"Bryce, 40% isn't good enough. I want both of you to pour over every book on ancient Greek orbs," I replied, setting up for the next maneuver when an audible 'crack' on my left shoulder blade made me wince. Hillary jumped back in a fast defense stance, but not before giving me a smug 'one more hit for me' look, making a check with his tongue and forefinger. I shivered internally.
All the years I'd known him; why had I never once thought of him in this way before? All of the men I had dated before were classically attractive, well muscled, virile. They worked hard to catch my eye and keep it on them. All had proclaimed unyielding devotion and honesty.
All had lied.
This man could turn me on without a second thought. Without even trying. And I'd never even noticed. Did he realize what he was doing to me? For some reason he wasn't breaking eye contact, which further unsettled me. In that moment, I made a revelation: the man was trying to figure out what I wanted. It appeared he was on the verge of offering me something rather important. Was I woman enough to accept?
We made our way to the main hall, just outside the laboratory. He brought back his stick to serve up a head shot but I fortunately used mine to block, breaking it in two. I now had a pair of sticks, that I twirled and prepared to dispatch him with. I had two weapons instead of one, but that complicated matters as I now had to move in much closer. His face took on a whole new level of concentration, and I made yet another revelation: I think he fully intended to win this "friendly" bout!
I moved in for the proverbial kill, twirling and swinging at him with finesse, as he stumbled backward. My braid swung forward, hitting my partner with a resounding 'smack'! An "Ow" escaped his lips, and he shouted "My god Lara, go after the killers, don't take it out on me!"
He shook his head to get his bearings, and before I knew it, he took another swing with his weapon. This time it made it's mark.
I let out a gasp of air and landed back against the wall. We were in an alcove just off the main hall, and our breathing was out of control.
"Thanks Hilly. That was the best fight I've had in months," I managed to get out.
He opened his mouth to reply. An odd expression shadowed his face, and he quickly shut it. What was he going to say?
"Hilly, what is it? You've never kept your sharp tongue from me before!" I kicked myself at my choice of words. For as soon as they were said, my butler's eyes darkened, never leaving mine. I suddenly realized that I was alone in that alcove with Hillary, my back against the wall.
I had literally painted myself into a corner.
It was though I could hear his thoughts, feel them like a current through my body. True, it had been months since I'd had a good fight. It had been longer since I'd had something even better.
I dropped the broken sticks to my side and pushed myself off of the wall, bringing me close enough to inhale the mixture of sweat and Paco Rabanne. His presence was heady and it was all I could do to keep from pressing my body as close to his as humanly possible. I trailed my gaze across his impressive form, still in disbelief at how I could have missed this treasure that was, and had always been, right under my nose.
A puzzled expression crossed his face. It was a charming look. He took a deep breath and unconsciously licked his lips.
At least I think it was unconscious.
Of course by this time I really didn't care how he meant it. With that liberating train of thought, I prepared to lean forward and kiss him.
Apparently he had the same thought because he beat me to it.
He crushed me against his chest, and I felt his lips caress mine, gently at first, as though he still wasn't certain if this was acceptable. I opened my mouth, urging him to be brave and kiss me with the power I knew he wanted to give me. As if by telepathy, I felt him deepen the kiss and soon his tongue was dueling with mine. We seemed to be there for hours, just kissing. This was the exploratory phase and I reveled in every touch, every caress.
He broke away and I groaned at the loss of contact.
"Lara, I am sorry, I don't know what came over me," he stammered, looking down at his shoes.
"I'm not, Hillary."
He looked up to see if I was serious, and I beamed up at him. There were times in my life where I wished I could've done certain things differently. I wanted to make sure this wasn't one of them.
I grabbed his hand and held it to my chest. "I have never wanted anything more; I'm just sorry I never jumped at the chance before."
"I've wanted to do that for years," he sighed. "I wouldn't want to do anything that would hurt you. I care very deeply for you, Lara," he pulled me closer and kissed me again. I melted in his arms. I had another revelation; this man, the one who had helped me through my father's death, protected me, and gave me nothing but his unyielding devotion, this man who I believe would actually die for me, was something very special. I wasn't sure where all of this would lead, but I was certain of one thing:
I think I was falling in love with Mr. Hillary.
So, submitted for your approval, is the following story. I would appreciate feedback, especially to see if there is any interest in further adventures with these two.
Of course, I might just write a few more regardless.
Oh, by the way, Tomb Raider is the property of Eidos Interactive and Paramount Pictures. No copyright infringement intended-in other words, don't bloody sue!
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Tomb Raider : Revelation
By Dani Fleming
I returned from Greece changed. I had just lost three people very dear to me, and the treasure I fought so hard to locate. I wanted revenge. Anger was an invited guest in my heart, and my 'family', Bryce and Hillary, were often on the receiving end. I needed to let off steam, and in the past that has always meant a rigorous workout and sparring match.
On this day, I decided to forgo the workout and go straight to the duel.
I walked into the weapons room, trying to discern the proper tool to do the most damage with.
A voice from the doorway stated, "You did recently state that you needed to brush up on your hand to hand skills. How about these?" My butler, confidante, and general best friend suggested. Hillary always seemed to know the perfect remedy, the right thing to say, the right way to say it. He was a great and steady constant in my life and I couldn't imagine life without him around.
I walked closer to where he stood and appraised his choice of equipment- Chinese fighting staffs. A perfect way to get out one's frustration.
"Not bad, Hillary," I nodded. He smiled, already knowing I would like his selection. I turned to go get ready.
"Suit up and meet me in the training room in 10 minutes," I called over my shoulder.
********************************************************************************
Exactaly 10 minutes later, Hilly and I stood across from each other in the light-filled sparring room. When using any weapon, it is often times best to wear clothing that corresponds to the region.
After all, they did have good reasons for the attire they chose.
In light of this, I suited up in an black, sleeveless Gi. It provided just enough room for the ease of movement needed in this style of combat. Hilly was attired in deep blue, with one exception: he also wore a protective fencing guard on his face. I mentally shook my head. Poor Hilly. Did he really think I'd be so cruel as to serve a face blow?
Of course in my current state of mind, one's sparring partner couldn't be too careful.
We took on our first stance positions and then began. I admit that after my last mission, there hadn't been much need for combat, hand to hand or otherwise, and it showed. I was rusty, and Hilly made good use of that handicap. For every attack I made, he seemed to possess a perfect counter move, each block and parry in lightening quick precision.
We moved into the foyer and here I regained the upper hand. Hilly was a good 6 inches taller than me and had about twice over my body mass, but his moves were every bit as skilled and fluid as mine. The slight narrowing of the entry hall gave him a disadvantage, which helped increase the accuracy of my attack.
"Why Lara, I didn't think you still had any fight left," he egged me on, sweat pouring through his ridiculous mask.
If his intention was to bring out my previously stellar prowess, I certainly wasn't going to disappoint.
I came at him with a renewed vigor, helped along by my grief and frustration at not yet finding those responsible. I came at him fast and unrelenting, to the point where he finally found that silly mask a hindrance and threw it off. We froze, getting our bearings, keeping our eyes trained on the other. In the heat of battle we forgot our usual roles- I Lara Croft, tomb raider extraordinare and consummate everygirl. He Nicholas Hillary, stoic dependable butler and man I would trust with my life.
I studied the interesting shape of his face, the soulful brown of his eyes. He was red-faced, sweating profusely and trying to regulate his breathing. I had a flash of us, locked in an heated battle, only this time sweating and breathing heavily together in my room. Engaged in a completely different sort of combat.
Was I utterly mad?!
I shook my head and returned to the task at hand.
If he noticed my previous moment of shock, he hid it very well, for he started a full on attack not missing a beat. It was as much a battle of wills as it was a simple training session. As we continued I mused at how lucky I was to find such a good butler who was not only adroit at running a mansion with skill and ease, but able to hold his own against me in a fight. This train of thought was quickly abandoned as we moved into the library. Christian Bryce sat at the computer trying to decipher the pictures I'd brought back on my camera.
"What have you got so far?" I jumped and made a successful blow on Hilly's shoulder.
"Not a whole lot. I'm at about 40% resonance with this, " he gestured at the slow-forming image of the Alexander Stone. "but I'm not getting much help from these pics you brought back, Lara. Your cam took on a whole lot of water, and the shots are all grainy." He frowned.
I spun around to catch Hilly behind the knees but was met with resistance by his weapon.
'Damn he's good,' I thought.
"Bryce, 40% isn't good enough. I want both of you to pour over every book on ancient Greek orbs," I replied, setting up for the next maneuver when an audible 'crack' on my left shoulder blade made me wince. Hillary jumped back in a fast defense stance, but not before giving me a smug 'one more hit for me' look, making a check with his tongue and forefinger. I shivered internally.
All the years I'd known him; why had I never once thought of him in this way before? All of the men I had dated before were classically attractive, well muscled, virile. They worked hard to catch my eye and keep it on them. All had proclaimed unyielding devotion and honesty.
All had lied.
This man could turn me on without a second thought. Without even trying. And I'd never even noticed. Did he realize what he was doing to me? For some reason he wasn't breaking eye contact, which further unsettled me. In that moment, I made a revelation: the man was trying to figure out what I wanted. It appeared he was on the verge of offering me something rather important. Was I woman enough to accept?
We made our way to the main hall, just outside the laboratory. He brought back his stick to serve up a head shot but I fortunately used mine to block, breaking it in two. I now had a pair of sticks, that I twirled and prepared to dispatch him with. I had two weapons instead of one, but that complicated matters as I now had to move in much closer. His face took on a whole new level of concentration, and I made yet another revelation: I think he fully intended to win this "friendly" bout!
I moved in for the proverbial kill, twirling and swinging at him with finesse, as he stumbled backward. My braid swung forward, hitting my partner with a resounding 'smack'! An "Ow" escaped his lips, and he shouted "My god Lara, go after the killers, don't take it out on me!"
He shook his head to get his bearings, and before I knew it, he took another swing with his weapon. This time it made it's mark.
I let out a gasp of air and landed back against the wall. We were in an alcove just off the main hall, and our breathing was out of control.
"Thanks Hilly. That was the best fight I've had in months," I managed to get out.
He opened his mouth to reply. An odd expression shadowed his face, and he quickly shut it. What was he going to say?
"Hilly, what is it? You've never kept your sharp tongue from me before!" I kicked myself at my choice of words. For as soon as they were said, my butler's eyes darkened, never leaving mine. I suddenly realized that I was alone in that alcove with Hillary, my back against the wall.
I had literally painted myself into a corner.
It was though I could hear his thoughts, feel them like a current through my body. True, it had been months since I'd had a good fight. It had been longer since I'd had something even better.
I dropped the broken sticks to my side and pushed myself off of the wall, bringing me close enough to inhale the mixture of sweat and Paco Rabanne. His presence was heady and it was all I could do to keep from pressing my body as close to his as humanly possible. I trailed my gaze across his impressive form, still in disbelief at how I could have missed this treasure that was, and had always been, right under my nose.
A puzzled expression crossed his face. It was a charming look. He took a deep breath and unconsciously licked his lips.
At least I think it was unconscious.
Of course by this time I really didn't care how he meant it. With that liberating train of thought, I prepared to lean forward and kiss him.
Apparently he had the same thought because he beat me to it.
He crushed me against his chest, and I felt his lips caress mine, gently at first, as though he still wasn't certain if this was acceptable. I opened my mouth, urging him to be brave and kiss me with the power I knew he wanted to give me. As if by telepathy, I felt him deepen the kiss and soon his tongue was dueling with mine. We seemed to be there for hours, just kissing. This was the exploratory phase and I reveled in every touch, every caress.
He broke away and I groaned at the loss of contact.
"Lara, I am sorry, I don't know what came over me," he stammered, looking down at his shoes.
"I'm not, Hillary."
He looked up to see if I was serious, and I beamed up at him. There were times in my life where I wished I could've done certain things differently. I wanted to make sure this wasn't one of them.
I grabbed his hand and held it to my chest. "I have never wanted anything more; I'm just sorry I never jumped at the chance before."
"I've wanted to do that for years," he sighed. "I wouldn't want to do anything that would hurt you. I care very deeply for you, Lara," he pulled me closer and kissed me again. I melted in his arms. I had another revelation; this man, the one who had helped me through my father's death, protected me, and gave me nothing but his unyielding devotion, this man who I believe would actually die for me, was something very special. I wasn't sure where all of this would lead, but I was certain of one thing:
I think I was falling in love with Mr. Hillary.