Chapter Three: Liberated Lady?
Katherine Steed wove her way through the many pedestrians that congested Heathrow
airport, approaching an apprehensive looking Indiana. She loved her home, England, and she was
always happy to return to it after a long excursions. She reached Professor Jones and smiling
wryly, teased, "Nervous about who that skeleton might be?" The moment she spoke, her
muscular companion seemed to jump fifty feet in the air. "I didn't mean to startle you so, Indy,"
Katherine cried, analyzing her friend. "Something is bothering you, isn't it?"
Lara wished that beautiful, seemingly perfect Katherine would leave her alone. She couldn't
explain what was really troubling her, for Katherine certainly wasn't going to believe her. And
even if Katherine would believe such a far fetched tale, Lara was most assuredly not going to
confide in her.
Jealousy appeared to be controlling all of her actions, and Lara did not enjoy it one bit. She
turned to Miss Steed and muttered, "I'm going home." And when she said "home," she was
referring to her own mansion in Derbyshire, not Indiana's minuscule apartment. Suitcases in
hand, she marched away from the offended Kathy.
Katherine Steed was not accustomed to being mistreated, especially by her close associate, Indy,
so when he stomped angrily away, she followed him. "I will not be trampled like leaves under
your feet. If something is upsetting you, fine, but don't take your anger out on me." Her grey eyes
resembled dark thunderclouds on a stormy day.
Lara was tired from her excursion and tired of Miss Steed's fiery temper. "Look, Katherine, do
me a favor: go to back to your flat and stay there."
"Flat?" Katherine repeated, confused. "I didn't think you were in England long enough to learn
that British term!"
Lara grimaced at her mistake and retorted, "You must have taught me that word awhile ago."
Katherine shook her head, tousling her mass of auburn hair. "I always try to use American slang
or their kooky words when I'm in your presence."
Lara resisted the impulse to strangle the indefatigable Katherine's bronzed throat. "Well, I'm
leaving," Lara proclaimed stoutly, as if that sentence was some sort of a retaliation. She exited
the airport, resolved to get to her mansion before dark if it killed her.
***************
Indiana opened one eyelid tentatively and shut it again. "Darn!" he muttered as he sat up
groggily in bed. He had hoped that the past twenty-four hours were merely a nightmare.
Unfortunately, it was all too real. He was still in the body of Lara Croft. Muttering to himself, he
got out of bed and tried to figure out what to do about clothing. He had no idea where Lara kept
her clothes, and even if he did, he was squeamish about dressing himself in this foreign body. On
the other hand, he had often wondered what Lara looked like in the nude . . .
An abrupt rapping at the door shook Indy from his lustful thoughts. "Who is it?" he asked
unnecessarily. Winston was the only other person in the house.
"It is I, Miss Croft," said Winston in his gravelly voice. "Jean-Yves is here to see you."
Indiana rolled his eyes and answered, "Can't you send him away?"
"I would gladly, Miss Croft," replied the butler, "but he wouldn't leave even if I told him to."
Indy cursed under his breath and was just about to direct Winston to tell the fat Frenchman that
"Miss Croft" had suddenly come down with bubonic plague, when he had an idea. Maybe he
could cause the Frenchman to leave permanently by acting like an ass. "Send him in," Indiana
replied in his still unfamiliarly high voice.
"But Miss Croft," protested the butler, "you're not even dressed properly."
Indiana glanced down at his filthy green tank top and tarnished khaki shorts and grinned evilly. "I
know. Send him in anyway."
Winston shrugged and tried to hide a low chuckle as he descended the stairs and directed Jean-
Yves to Lara's room. The French archaeologist couldn't hide his delight at being invited into
Lara's quarters, but when he entered, he was in for a shock. There was Lara wearing a brown
sports bra and khaki shorts and nothing else!
"Hello, darling!" called Indy in a drunk sounding voice. "Glad you could make it into the
sanctum!"
Jean-Yves eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Lara, dear, you must not be feeling well.
Perhaps you should lie down and rest."
"Nonsense! I feel fit as a fiddle and ready for love!" Indy cried as he planted a gigantic kiss on
Jean-Yves' forehead. "Now let's get down and boogie!" He struck a disco pose and started
grooving around the room.
Jean-Yves looked completely bewildered. "Uh, I think I'll come back later when you're feeling
more yourself," he remarked as he left the room, oblivious to the irony of his statement. He
stumbled down the stairs in confusion and ran out of the mansion as quickly as possible.
"Three cheers for the red white and blue!" called Indy out the bedroom window as the Frenchie
ran out of the estate gates and into a tall muscular man with a fedora.
"Oh, my god!" Indy cried. "It's me! I mean it's you! I mean it's Lara!" He dashed into the
bathroom and locked the door. "I'll kill myself when I find out what I've been doing!" he said as
he leaned against the bolted frame.
Meanwhile, Lara, in Indy's body, was trying to make sense of a very confused Jean-Yves.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" she asked.
Jean-Yves hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not to let his romantic rival in on
Lara's predicament. Finally, he relented and said, "It's Lara. Mon Dieu! I think she has gone
crazy! I shall seek help for her at once." He was about to commence running when Lara grabbed
him by the shoulder- hard.
"What do you mean?" she asked, clenching Indy's teeth.
Jean-Yves was suddenly embarrassed about the whole incident. "N-nothing. I was only joking ha
ha!"
"It's not funny, Garner!" barked Lara as she held her "faithful friend" in a death grip. "What
happened?"
Jean gulped and replied. "S-she was just running around in her sous-vetements!"
If Jean had hoped to confuse Indy by saying "underwear" in French, he was much mistaken. Indy
(actually Lara in his body) was fluent in many languages, including French. "Her what!" yelled
Lara. "I'll kill her!" She dropped Jean and fled toward the mansion in blind fury, leaving a very
confused Frenchman behind.
"Why does Indiana Jones care what Lara does on her free time?" he wondered aloud.
Lara broke the door down and ran up the stairs two at a time, nearly toppling poor Winston.
"Jones!" she yelled. "Where are you?"
"Jones" wisely kept his mouth shut and tried to figure a way to climb out the bathroom window.
Lara searched the music room and library before rushing into her bedroom and walking up to the
bathroom door. "Alright Jones!" she called. "I know you're in there! I'm giving you to 10 to get
out of there or I'm gonna blow off the door! Pow! 1, 2, 3 . . ."
Indiana cursed himself for not grabbing one of Lara's guns to defend himself with.
"4, 5, 6 . . ."
"Can't we discuss this like civilized human beings?" he pleaded through the door.
"No! 7, 8 . . ."
Indy suddenly wished he was wearing more than he was.
"9, 10! Alright! You asked for it! I'm getting the grenade launcher!"
Suddenly, Indiana remembered something that could save his life. "You wouldn't blow up your
own body, would you?"
Lara, who was loading her rocket launcher, considered this. She didn't particularly want to be in
Indy's body her whole life, and she would have to if she destroyed her real body. "Damn it Indy!"
she complained. "Did you have to remind me?"
"Well, that's gratitude!" said Indy as he opened the door and stood in front of Lara. "After saving
you from suicide!"
"It certainly does give a new meaning to the word," Lara mused as she gazed at herself. "This is
really strange standing here beside myself."
"You're telling me," agreed Indy. "So, now what do we do?"
"Well, for starters, you can get some clothes on," she said, gesturing to Indy's bra.
Indiana looked a bit sheepish. "Oh, yeah. Sorry about that."
Lara sighed as she sank down on her bed. "Jean-Yves will never speak to me again, thanks to
you."
Indiana tried to suppress a grin as he sat next to her. "Yeah, that's too bad. I had no idea he was
coming."
"Oh, sure," said Lara, not falling for his fib.
Suddenly, Indy remembered his British companion. "Uh, where's Kate?"
Lara tried to suppress a chuckle as she answered, "Somewhere over the Sargasso Sea, I imagine."
"What?!" cried Indy.
"I was just joking, she went home like a good little girl after I told her off."
"Oh," sighed Indy with relief. "You what?!"
"She was pissing me off!" whined Lara. "She acted like I didn't know anything."
"Well, maybe you don't," retorted Indy as he tried to open Lara's closet. "Damn it, Lara! How
am I supposed to get dressed?"
Lara stifled a chuckle as she produced a key from her own knapsack that had been carelessly
tossed under the bed by Indy the day before. "I keep more than my clothes in there, you know."
Indy was beginning to drool. "Not that, you sicko, my ammo!" She finished as she unlocked the
closet. Indy was amazed at the supply of shotgun shells, uzi clips, and bullets within. Underneath
all that rubbish was a bureau which contained what seemed like hundreds of identical tank tops
and khaki shorts. "Help yourself!" Lara called as she exited the room. "I'm going to try
explaining our situation to Winston. It will be a help to have at least one ally."
Indy suppressed a low groan as he grabbed an outfit. Her had been hoping for something a little
more attractive. Not that he didn't look good in Lara's apparel. He dressed in silence and casually
sauntered over to Lara's window and gazed out on the extensive estate. He could faintly see a
dark foreign car speeding away down the driveway and smiled. It was doubtless Jean-Yves,
running away from what he assumed to be a madhouse. Indiana didn't want to remain in Lara's
body forever, but it sure was fun for a time!
Katherine Steed wove her way through the many pedestrians that congested Heathrow
airport, approaching an apprehensive looking Indiana. She loved her home, England, and she was
always happy to return to it after a long excursions. She reached Professor Jones and smiling
wryly, teased, "Nervous about who that skeleton might be?" The moment she spoke, her
muscular companion seemed to jump fifty feet in the air. "I didn't mean to startle you so, Indy,"
Katherine cried, analyzing her friend. "Something is bothering you, isn't it?"
Lara wished that beautiful, seemingly perfect Katherine would leave her alone. She couldn't
explain what was really troubling her, for Katherine certainly wasn't going to believe her. And
even if Katherine would believe such a far fetched tale, Lara was most assuredly not going to
confide in her.
Jealousy appeared to be controlling all of her actions, and Lara did not enjoy it one bit. She
turned to Miss Steed and muttered, "I'm going home." And when she said "home," she was
referring to her own mansion in Derbyshire, not Indiana's minuscule apartment. Suitcases in
hand, she marched away from the offended Kathy.
Katherine Steed was not accustomed to being mistreated, especially by her close associate, Indy,
so when he stomped angrily away, she followed him. "I will not be trampled like leaves under
your feet. If something is upsetting you, fine, but don't take your anger out on me." Her grey eyes
resembled dark thunderclouds on a stormy day.
Lara was tired from her excursion and tired of Miss Steed's fiery temper. "Look, Katherine, do
me a favor: go to back to your flat and stay there."
"Flat?" Katherine repeated, confused. "I didn't think you were in England long enough to learn
that British term!"
Lara grimaced at her mistake and retorted, "You must have taught me that word awhile ago."
Katherine shook her head, tousling her mass of auburn hair. "I always try to use American slang
or their kooky words when I'm in your presence."
Lara resisted the impulse to strangle the indefatigable Katherine's bronzed throat. "Well, I'm
leaving," Lara proclaimed stoutly, as if that sentence was some sort of a retaliation. She exited
the airport, resolved to get to her mansion before dark if it killed her.
***************
Indiana opened one eyelid tentatively and shut it again. "Darn!" he muttered as he sat up
groggily in bed. He had hoped that the past twenty-four hours were merely a nightmare.
Unfortunately, it was all too real. He was still in the body of Lara Croft. Muttering to himself, he
got out of bed and tried to figure out what to do about clothing. He had no idea where Lara kept
her clothes, and even if he did, he was squeamish about dressing himself in this foreign body. On
the other hand, he had often wondered what Lara looked like in the nude . . .
An abrupt rapping at the door shook Indy from his lustful thoughts. "Who is it?" he asked
unnecessarily. Winston was the only other person in the house.
"It is I, Miss Croft," said Winston in his gravelly voice. "Jean-Yves is here to see you."
Indiana rolled his eyes and answered, "Can't you send him away?"
"I would gladly, Miss Croft," replied the butler, "but he wouldn't leave even if I told him to."
Indy cursed under his breath and was just about to direct Winston to tell the fat Frenchman that
"Miss Croft" had suddenly come down with bubonic plague, when he had an idea. Maybe he
could cause the Frenchman to leave permanently by acting like an ass. "Send him in," Indiana
replied in his still unfamiliarly high voice.
"But Miss Croft," protested the butler, "you're not even dressed properly."
Indiana glanced down at his filthy green tank top and tarnished khaki shorts and grinned evilly. "I
know. Send him in anyway."
Winston shrugged and tried to hide a low chuckle as he descended the stairs and directed Jean-
Yves to Lara's room. The French archaeologist couldn't hide his delight at being invited into
Lara's quarters, but when he entered, he was in for a shock. There was Lara wearing a brown
sports bra and khaki shorts and nothing else!
"Hello, darling!" called Indy in a drunk sounding voice. "Glad you could make it into the
sanctum!"
Jean-Yves eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Lara, dear, you must not be feeling well.
Perhaps you should lie down and rest."
"Nonsense! I feel fit as a fiddle and ready for love!" Indy cried as he planted a gigantic kiss on
Jean-Yves' forehead. "Now let's get down and boogie!" He struck a disco pose and started
grooving around the room.
Jean-Yves looked completely bewildered. "Uh, I think I'll come back later when you're feeling
more yourself," he remarked as he left the room, oblivious to the irony of his statement. He
stumbled down the stairs in confusion and ran out of the mansion as quickly as possible.
"Three cheers for the red white and blue!" called Indy out the bedroom window as the Frenchie
ran out of the estate gates and into a tall muscular man with a fedora.
"Oh, my god!" Indy cried. "It's me! I mean it's you! I mean it's Lara!" He dashed into the
bathroom and locked the door. "I'll kill myself when I find out what I've been doing!" he said as
he leaned against the bolted frame.
Meanwhile, Lara, in Indy's body, was trying to make sense of a very confused Jean-Yves.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" she asked.
Jean-Yves hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not to let his romantic rival in on
Lara's predicament. Finally, he relented and said, "It's Lara. Mon Dieu! I think she has gone
crazy! I shall seek help for her at once." He was about to commence running when Lara grabbed
him by the shoulder- hard.
"What do you mean?" she asked, clenching Indy's teeth.
Jean-Yves was suddenly embarrassed about the whole incident. "N-nothing. I was only joking ha
ha!"
"It's not funny, Garner!" barked Lara as she held her "faithful friend" in a death grip. "What
happened?"
Jean gulped and replied. "S-she was just running around in her sous-vetements!"
If Jean had hoped to confuse Indy by saying "underwear" in French, he was much mistaken. Indy
(actually Lara in his body) was fluent in many languages, including French. "Her what!" yelled
Lara. "I'll kill her!" She dropped Jean and fled toward the mansion in blind fury, leaving a very
confused Frenchman behind.
"Why does Indiana Jones care what Lara does on her free time?" he wondered aloud.
Lara broke the door down and ran up the stairs two at a time, nearly toppling poor Winston.
"Jones!" she yelled. "Where are you?"
"Jones" wisely kept his mouth shut and tried to figure a way to climb out the bathroom window.
Lara searched the music room and library before rushing into her bedroom and walking up to the
bathroom door. "Alright Jones!" she called. "I know you're in there! I'm giving you to 10 to get
out of there or I'm gonna blow off the door! Pow! 1, 2, 3 . . ."
Indiana cursed himself for not grabbing one of Lara's guns to defend himself with.
"4, 5, 6 . . ."
"Can't we discuss this like civilized human beings?" he pleaded through the door.
"No! 7, 8 . . ."
Indy suddenly wished he was wearing more than he was.
"9, 10! Alright! You asked for it! I'm getting the grenade launcher!"
Suddenly, Indiana remembered something that could save his life. "You wouldn't blow up your
own body, would you?"
Lara, who was loading her rocket launcher, considered this. She didn't particularly want to be in
Indy's body her whole life, and she would have to if she destroyed her real body. "Damn it Indy!"
she complained. "Did you have to remind me?"
"Well, that's gratitude!" said Indy as he opened the door and stood in front of Lara. "After saving
you from suicide!"
"It certainly does give a new meaning to the word," Lara mused as she gazed at herself. "This is
really strange standing here beside myself."
"You're telling me," agreed Indy. "So, now what do we do?"
"Well, for starters, you can get some clothes on," she said, gesturing to Indy's bra.
Indiana looked a bit sheepish. "Oh, yeah. Sorry about that."
Lara sighed as she sank down on her bed. "Jean-Yves will never speak to me again, thanks to
you."
Indiana tried to suppress a grin as he sat next to her. "Yeah, that's too bad. I had no idea he was
coming."
"Oh, sure," said Lara, not falling for his fib.
Suddenly, Indy remembered his British companion. "Uh, where's Kate?"
Lara tried to suppress a chuckle as she answered, "Somewhere over the Sargasso Sea, I imagine."
"What?!" cried Indy.
"I was just joking, she went home like a good little girl after I told her off."
"Oh," sighed Indy with relief. "You what?!"
"She was pissing me off!" whined Lara. "She acted like I didn't know anything."
"Well, maybe you don't," retorted Indy as he tried to open Lara's closet. "Damn it, Lara! How
am I supposed to get dressed?"
Lara stifled a chuckle as she produced a key from her own knapsack that had been carelessly
tossed under the bed by Indy the day before. "I keep more than my clothes in there, you know."
Indy was beginning to drool. "Not that, you sicko, my ammo!" She finished as she unlocked the
closet. Indy was amazed at the supply of shotgun shells, uzi clips, and bullets within. Underneath
all that rubbish was a bureau which contained what seemed like hundreds of identical tank tops
and khaki shorts. "Help yourself!" Lara called as she exited the room. "I'm going to try
explaining our situation to Winston. It will be a help to have at least one ally."
Indy suppressed a low groan as he grabbed an outfit. Her had been hoping for something a little
more attractive. Not that he didn't look good in Lara's apparel. He dressed in silence and casually
sauntered over to Lara's window and gazed out on the extensive estate. He could faintly see a
dark foreign car speeding away down the driveway and smiled. It was doubtless Jean-Yves,
running away from what he assumed to be a madhouse. Indiana didn't want to remain in Lara's
body forever, but it sure was fun for a time!