Lara and the other pop culture archaeologist can't stand each other. Looks like it's
Raider Rivalry
Chapter One: A Familiar face
Lara stretched out on her beach towel and sighed in contentment. The warm southern sun
bathed her in an apparent force field of light that nothing could penetrate. Life had been good for
the well-traveled tomb raider the last couple months. She had retrieved the four artefacts carved
from the meteorite and defeated Dr. Willard in what seemed like no time flat for her and now she
was at that rare stage in her life cycle where she was ready for a little relaxation. Soon, she knew,
the adventuring bug would return and bite her- hard- and she would be forced to search for
excitement again, but for now, it was good just to lay beside the pool, trailing her hand in the
cool water, closing her eyes . . .
She dreamed that she was looking at herself adorned in a gorgeous white satin gown with a long
flowing veil on her head. So it was the infamous wedding dream, eh? She'd never had this one
before. The simulacrum's hair was still held back in her trademark braid and she could almost
see the bulge of her pistols underneath the dress. How ridiculous can you get, she thought and
smiled in amusement. The dream Lara marched down the isle to the familiar strains of the Tomb
Raider theme (this was getting really corny), but when she reached the altar, no one was there (I
wonder why.) This didn't seem to phase her in the least, and Lara saw her other self just stand
there and wait for what seemed like hours. Finally, the dream Lara turned around and marched
out of the church. Lara's eyes followed herself as she exited the sanctuary and she was about to
chase after the phantom when she felt herself fall into the water with a giant splash.
Lara sputtered and writhed in the water until she finally reached the surface. "You ought to be
more careful, mon ami!" called a familiar voice. A potbellied middle aged man peered at her
from the other side of the pool.
"Jean-Yves!" Lara called to her friend and associate. "Why didn't you tell me you were
coming?" She treaded water until she was as close as she could be to the Frenchman without
exiting the pool.
"I did not know myself until a few minutes ago," explained the short blonde man in front of her.
"There is so much preparation to be done for the exhibition that I do not know when I will be free
until I already am. In fact, the only reason I came was to ask about the proper display case for the
Infada stone and your other recent acquisitions."
Lara gave him a withering look before pulling her slim body onto the deck area to sit
beside him. "Really, Jean, you know I trust your judgement completely on these matters. Besides,
I'm not the one who wanted to have this silly exhibition anyway; it was your idea and it took all
your debating skills to convince me to go through with it. I already told you I couldn't care less if
nobody saw my acquisitions but myself."
"Oui," agreed Jean thoughtfully. "And the fact that you obtained most of them illegally certainly
makes it difficult for you to show them publicly at all with impunity."
"Still gnawing at that old bone are we?" asked Lara in exasperation as she wrapped her towel
around herself, concealing the sexy black bathing costume she was wearing. "I already know
your disappointment in that respect. It was a bee in your bonnet for years when we first met. You
were always saying, 'Lara, why couldn't you be a real archaeologist and get permission for every
bloody thing you do?' Honestly, that talk sickened me as much as the thought of my illicit
expeditions sickened you. Oh, and by the way, it continues to sicken me to this day so if we
could change the subject, I'd be extremely grateful."
Jean-Yves shook his head in an annoying sort of admonition at his young friend and settled back
in a nearby deck chair as Lara dove into the water again.
Lara slid through the water as gracefully as a swan, her muscular legs propelling her across the
pool. Lara felt almost as much at home in the water as she did on land, even more so at times,
which was a good thing since her job called for deep-sea dives as well as digs. She had grown to
love the water since her early childhood when she used to pretend she was a mermaid gliding to
the depths of the ocean with the utmost of ease. As an adolescent, she dreamed of being like
Esther Williams, the famed water ballerina from the classic movies she used to watch. Now as an
adult, her fancies were a little tamer, though not much so, for she still like to relive the surreal
adventures she'd had in the sea: adventures far too fantastic for anyone but their heroes to
believe.
When Lara broke the surface again, she saw that the pool area of the hotel was not as deserted as
it had first been. A dozen or so vacationers were spread about the deck, their ages ranging from
infants to the elderly. Lara waded back to the shallow end and was about to exit the pool when
she saw a security guard enter through the gate that separated the pool area from the front lawn.
"Everybody out of the pool area, now! We've got an emergency situation here!" the guard cried
through his megaphone. A large percentage of the crowd gasped in horror and scurried to
evacuate the pool area. Mothers grabbed their children out of the pool to safety, while middle
aged men and women helped the elderly along. But Lara just stood there waist deep in the water
and refused to budge. It wasn't that she was in a hurry to die in contaminated waters, but she had
a feeling that there really was no physical danger present. Her suspicions were aroused by the
sight of a well built young man in a wetsuit ordering the security guards around. Why would a
pedestrian be instructing the security guards to evacuate the site of a contaminated area?
Wouldn't the person to convey this important knowledge be in one of those lab coats the
community health inspectors usually wore? And if the pool was infected, why would the man
who was telling people to clear the area look like he was about to enter the diseased waters
himself? So Lara stood there staring at the man, waiting for him to call his own bluff and admit
that this was just a cheap plot for him to get the pool for himself for whatever lame reason he had
for doing so.
"Lara, why aren't you leaving?" asked Jean-Yves who was waiting for her at the gate. "Didn't
you hear the man say it was an emergency?"
"Oh, I heard all right," Lara replied smugly as she waded back to the deep end, "but there is no
emergency." Jean-Yves stared in disbelief at his brash young friend and breathed a silent prayer
for her as he quickly quitted the area.
By now, the deck was completely deserted except for a few straggling security guards who were
nervously eying Lara as if to will her out of the water, and the man in the wetsuit, who was still
oblivious to her presence. Suddenly, the man turned around and spotted her complacently doing
laps in his precious dive site. "Hey you!" he called. "I thought I told you to get out of here!"
"You might get farther if you say 'please,'" Lara coyly returned as she continued to traverse the
pool's now relatively calm waters.
The man appeared as though he was about to yell again, but he took a deep breath and said very
calmly, "Will you please get out of the pool, miss? You are halting the wheels of progress."
"Sorry," said Lara brazenly, "I'm having far too much fun to give up my aquatic recreation to a
childish whim of yours."
"Childish whim!" interjected the man as he entered the waters. "You'd like to think that wouldn't
you? The men told you there was an emergency here so don't you think you should get out before
something happens to you?" By now, he was so close to Lara that she could see his face quite
clearly. It was a rugged yet kindly face that she thought she recognized from somewhere but
couldn't quite place. But before the man could grab her with his strong hand to drag her out, she
darted out of the way as fleetly as a fish and swam to the other side of the pool.
"If this is such a dire emergency," she ventured playfully as the man dove after her again, "then
why are you endangering yourself by entering the pool?" She evaded another of his attempts and
dove under the water only to pop up at the other side once more.
"You are not only quick and light on your feet but in your wit as well," remarked the man in
befuddlement as Lara circled around him like a shark. "Under different circumstances, we might
have become friends. But as it is, I must insist that you exit the vicinity immediately so that I may
proceed with my work."
"Ah, I am finally getting somewhere!" Lara exclaimed. She stopped her dizzying circles for an
instant to look the man in the eye. "I now know that you are employed in something that has to
do with chasing me from this pool. Are you, by chance the pool cleaner?"
The man no longer seemed a bit amused at her antics. "I don't have time for these foolish games,
Miss-"
"Croft, Lara Croft, as in Lord Henshingly's daughter, world famous archaeologist adventurer."
"How dare you abuse that title!" the man said in indignation. "You are no more an archaeologist
than-"
"- you are a gentleman," she finished dryly. "And yes, I am." By now they were back in the
shallow end and Lara had sat down on one of the steps with the air of a queen on her throne.
"You are a mere thief of priceless relics, a privateer!"
"And I suppose you're an expert in the field," Lara said with her arms crossed on her chest in a
most unattractive manner.
"Actually-" began the man, but he was interrupted by the booming voice of a security guard.
"Do you need any help with that intruder, Professor Jones?"
Lara's eyes lit up in understanding as her gaze returned to the man's face. "That wouldn't be
Professor Henry Jones, would it?"
"As a matter of fact it would," said Professor Jones calmly. "Now will you please get out of here
so I can continue my work?"
Lara nodded and climbed out of the pool in a haze of confusion. She grabbed her towel and
wrapped it around her slim frame, not removing her eyes from the figure in the pool who was
now investigating something in the waters at the opposite end. The last thing she saw as a guard
escorted her through the gate of the deck area was the lone shape of Indiana Jones, famous
archaeologist and her past role model, searching for something in the cold waters.
Raider Rivalry
Chapter One: A Familiar face
Lara stretched out on her beach towel and sighed in contentment. The warm southern sun
bathed her in an apparent force field of light that nothing could penetrate. Life had been good for
the well-traveled tomb raider the last couple months. She had retrieved the four artefacts carved
from the meteorite and defeated Dr. Willard in what seemed like no time flat for her and now she
was at that rare stage in her life cycle where she was ready for a little relaxation. Soon, she knew,
the adventuring bug would return and bite her- hard- and she would be forced to search for
excitement again, but for now, it was good just to lay beside the pool, trailing her hand in the
cool water, closing her eyes . . .
She dreamed that she was looking at herself adorned in a gorgeous white satin gown with a long
flowing veil on her head. So it was the infamous wedding dream, eh? She'd never had this one
before. The simulacrum's hair was still held back in her trademark braid and she could almost
see the bulge of her pistols underneath the dress. How ridiculous can you get, she thought and
smiled in amusement. The dream Lara marched down the isle to the familiar strains of the Tomb
Raider theme (this was getting really corny), but when she reached the altar, no one was there (I
wonder why.) This didn't seem to phase her in the least, and Lara saw her other self just stand
there and wait for what seemed like hours. Finally, the dream Lara turned around and marched
out of the church. Lara's eyes followed herself as she exited the sanctuary and she was about to
chase after the phantom when she felt herself fall into the water with a giant splash.
Lara sputtered and writhed in the water until she finally reached the surface. "You ought to be
more careful, mon ami!" called a familiar voice. A potbellied middle aged man peered at her
from the other side of the pool.
"Jean-Yves!" Lara called to her friend and associate. "Why didn't you tell me you were
coming?" She treaded water until she was as close as she could be to the Frenchman without
exiting the pool.
"I did not know myself until a few minutes ago," explained the short blonde man in front of her.
"There is so much preparation to be done for the exhibition that I do not know when I will be free
until I already am. In fact, the only reason I came was to ask about the proper display case for the
Infada stone and your other recent acquisitions."
Lara gave him a withering look before pulling her slim body onto the deck area to sit
beside him. "Really, Jean, you know I trust your judgement completely on these matters. Besides,
I'm not the one who wanted to have this silly exhibition anyway; it was your idea and it took all
your debating skills to convince me to go through with it. I already told you I couldn't care less if
nobody saw my acquisitions but myself."
"Oui," agreed Jean thoughtfully. "And the fact that you obtained most of them illegally certainly
makes it difficult for you to show them publicly at all with impunity."
"Still gnawing at that old bone are we?" asked Lara in exasperation as she wrapped her towel
around herself, concealing the sexy black bathing costume she was wearing. "I already know
your disappointment in that respect. It was a bee in your bonnet for years when we first met. You
were always saying, 'Lara, why couldn't you be a real archaeologist and get permission for every
bloody thing you do?' Honestly, that talk sickened me as much as the thought of my illicit
expeditions sickened you. Oh, and by the way, it continues to sicken me to this day so if we
could change the subject, I'd be extremely grateful."
Jean-Yves shook his head in an annoying sort of admonition at his young friend and settled back
in a nearby deck chair as Lara dove into the water again.
Lara slid through the water as gracefully as a swan, her muscular legs propelling her across the
pool. Lara felt almost as much at home in the water as she did on land, even more so at times,
which was a good thing since her job called for deep-sea dives as well as digs. She had grown to
love the water since her early childhood when she used to pretend she was a mermaid gliding to
the depths of the ocean with the utmost of ease. As an adolescent, she dreamed of being like
Esther Williams, the famed water ballerina from the classic movies she used to watch. Now as an
adult, her fancies were a little tamer, though not much so, for she still like to relive the surreal
adventures she'd had in the sea: adventures far too fantastic for anyone but their heroes to
believe.
When Lara broke the surface again, she saw that the pool area of the hotel was not as deserted as
it had first been. A dozen or so vacationers were spread about the deck, their ages ranging from
infants to the elderly. Lara waded back to the shallow end and was about to exit the pool when
she saw a security guard enter through the gate that separated the pool area from the front lawn.
"Everybody out of the pool area, now! We've got an emergency situation here!" the guard cried
through his megaphone. A large percentage of the crowd gasped in horror and scurried to
evacuate the pool area. Mothers grabbed their children out of the pool to safety, while middle
aged men and women helped the elderly along. But Lara just stood there waist deep in the water
and refused to budge. It wasn't that she was in a hurry to die in contaminated waters, but she had
a feeling that there really was no physical danger present. Her suspicions were aroused by the
sight of a well built young man in a wetsuit ordering the security guards around. Why would a
pedestrian be instructing the security guards to evacuate the site of a contaminated area?
Wouldn't the person to convey this important knowledge be in one of those lab coats the
community health inspectors usually wore? And if the pool was infected, why would the man
who was telling people to clear the area look like he was about to enter the diseased waters
himself? So Lara stood there staring at the man, waiting for him to call his own bluff and admit
that this was just a cheap plot for him to get the pool for himself for whatever lame reason he had
for doing so.
"Lara, why aren't you leaving?" asked Jean-Yves who was waiting for her at the gate. "Didn't
you hear the man say it was an emergency?"
"Oh, I heard all right," Lara replied smugly as she waded back to the deep end, "but there is no
emergency." Jean-Yves stared in disbelief at his brash young friend and breathed a silent prayer
for her as he quickly quitted the area.
By now, the deck was completely deserted except for a few straggling security guards who were
nervously eying Lara as if to will her out of the water, and the man in the wetsuit, who was still
oblivious to her presence. Suddenly, the man turned around and spotted her complacently doing
laps in his precious dive site. "Hey you!" he called. "I thought I told you to get out of here!"
"You might get farther if you say 'please,'" Lara coyly returned as she continued to traverse the
pool's now relatively calm waters.
The man appeared as though he was about to yell again, but he took a deep breath and said very
calmly, "Will you please get out of the pool, miss? You are halting the wheels of progress."
"Sorry," said Lara brazenly, "I'm having far too much fun to give up my aquatic recreation to a
childish whim of yours."
"Childish whim!" interjected the man as he entered the waters. "You'd like to think that wouldn't
you? The men told you there was an emergency here so don't you think you should get out before
something happens to you?" By now, he was so close to Lara that she could see his face quite
clearly. It was a rugged yet kindly face that she thought she recognized from somewhere but
couldn't quite place. But before the man could grab her with his strong hand to drag her out, she
darted out of the way as fleetly as a fish and swam to the other side of the pool.
"If this is such a dire emergency," she ventured playfully as the man dove after her again, "then
why are you endangering yourself by entering the pool?" She evaded another of his attempts and
dove under the water only to pop up at the other side once more.
"You are not only quick and light on your feet but in your wit as well," remarked the man in
befuddlement as Lara circled around him like a shark. "Under different circumstances, we might
have become friends. But as it is, I must insist that you exit the vicinity immediately so that I may
proceed with my work."
"Ah, I am finally getting somewhere!" Lara exclaimed. She stopped her dizzying circles for an
instant to look the man in the eye. "I now know that you are employed in something that has to
do with chasing me from this pool. Are you, by chance the pool cleaner?"
The man no longer seemed a bit amused at her antics. "I don't have time for these foolish games,
Miss-"
"Croft, Lara Croft, as in Lord Henshingly's daughter, world famous archaeologist adventurer."
"How dare you abuse that title!" the man said in indignation. "You are no more an archaeologist
than-"
"- you are a gentleman," she finished dryly. "And yes, I am." By now they were back in the
shallow end and Lara had sat down on one of the steps with the air of a queen on her throne.
"You are a mere thief of priceless relics, a privateer!"
"And I suppose you're an expert in the field," Lara said with her arms crossed on her chest in a
most unattractive manner.
"Actually-" began the man, but he was interrupted by the booming voice of a security guard.
"Do you need any help with that intruder, Professor Jones?"
Lara's eyes lit up in understanding as her gaze returned to the man's face. "That wouldn't be
Professor Henry Jones, would it?"
"As a matter of fact it would," said Professor Jones calmly. "Now will you please get out of here
so I can continue my work?"
Lara nodded and climbed out of the pool in a haze of confusion. She grabbed her towel and
wrapped it around her slim frame, not removing her eyes from the figure in the pool who was
now investigating something in the waters at the opposite end. The last thing she saw as a guard
escorted her through the gate of the deck area was the lone shape of Indiana Jones, famous
archaeologist and her past role model, searching for something in the cold waters.