Thanks for all your latest reviews. You're all wonderful peaches. :-)
In return, I present to you the following chunk of fanfic.
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Of all the things you'd expect to find occurring in a dining room at meal time, a flirtatious tickling match isn't generally one of them, but there it was, said flirtatious tickling match, right there, on the dining room floor.
I came to a dead halt, blinked, and then just stood and observed, slightly disbelievingly.
Bryce and Lara.
Tickling.
Flirtatiously.
"Oh, Kurtis. Hello. Hillary says dinner should be ready in about five minutes," Lara managed to get out between giggles as Bryce went mercilessly on the offensive. He whacked her around the head with a seat cushion, but when Lara tried to return the favour she missed and fell flat to the floor, where she was quickly pinned down by her opponent.
"Quick, tickle her!" he yelled.
I opened my mouth to decline, but stopped myself and instead stood there gaping like a fish as I considered the offer. That little spark of fun within myself that had been distinguished years ago only to be replaced by cynicism was slowly being fanned back to life the more time I spent in that mansion, and I found myself lowering awkwardly to my knees. I reached forward and began to tickle Lara, which turned out to be an extremely easy task, as the slightest movement from my fingers saw her erupting into hysterical laughter and twisting and turning in an effort to break free.
Bryce was almost as excited, his eyes screwed shut as he laughed so hard he could barely keep hold of Lara, and I laughed with him, not remembering the last time I had done anything even remotely like that.
Hillary appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat to attract our attention. Feeling embarrassed, I stopped my onslaught and focused my attention on him seriously, running my hands through my tousled hair and clearing my own throat. "Dinner is served, m'Lady," Hillary announced, and Bryce and Lara got to their feet, still giggling, completely unfazed by the interruption.
My teammate clasped his hands around my upper arm and pulled as Lara did likewise with my other arm, supporting my back with one hand. I began to laugh again as their lack of humility rubbed off on me, and I was still smiling widely as I slid into my seat, trying to calm myself down.
My excitement was soon chased away by a sudden shyness, as I realised that I was sitting at a huge dining table spread with a selection of rich foods with a bona fide Lady sitting at the head. I shifted in my seat, unsure how to act.
"Go ahead, no formalities here. Take a cue from Bryce," Lara said, smiling warmly, and I laughed at her joke, glancing at Bryce as he swallowed the last bite of a fajita before anybody else had begun. 'When in Rome' I thought to myself, and threw myself into the festivities as I threw my shyness out of the window.
"So, come on, what happened in Paris, then?" I looked up to see Bryce, still eating, once again oblivious to the conversation stopper he had just dealt. I looked to Lara, and waited for her reaction as she sat staring at her plate, slowly chewing a fry.
Hillary broke the silence. "That's no proper dinner conversation."
"It's alright, Hillary. It's time I told you." Lara flicked her eyes towards me as she spoke, seeking support, and I smiled encouragingly.
She began to talk, telling her story from the time she had left Bryce and Hillary to wake to an empty house to threatening Pierre for information in the Café Metro.
"I should have known the man," she said, looking to me meaningfully, "sitting in the corner was more interested in picking up leads than in the bad coffee. I don't honestly think that café had many hungry customers, if you know what I mean."
"I was stalking her," I broke in casually. I didn't think it was that big a deal, but Bryce and Hillary stared at me as if I had said something really shocking. I stared back before deciding that I should probably explain myself. "I used to be in the Foreign Legion, and when I left I lived in Paris for a while. I have contacts there. Got to Paris on the trail of Eckhardt, heard this 'Croft Woman' was poking around, speaking to Von Croy and milking my own sources, and figured I needed to see just what she was up to. Then, of course, she turned out to be useful, so I got in her way a bit, let her know I was watching her, followed her to the Louvre and let her do my dirty work for me." From the reaction that I got from the two listeners, that didn't really help, but I was rescued by Lara who leapt back in with her own narration.
"After I saw him in the café, he made a big show of riding his bike down the street away from me at top speed. It was half threat, half warning."
"Of what?" asked Hillary, forgetting his dinner in the thrall of the story.
"That he knew what I was up to, and that I was in his way."
"I didn't mean it quite so menacingly. I just wanted you to know I was on to you, that was all," I defended. She made me sound like a thug!
"Kurtis quite calmly stood by and watched the whole thing as I ran through the sewers to the dock to escape the fireball from the bomb," Lara said as she later reached that particular part of the yarn.
I had to protest. "You're painting me in a bad light, Croft!"
"I leapt out of the sewer, on fire, chased far too close for comfort by a fireball, and all you did was stand up, throw your cigarette into the dock and walk off with an air that said you didn't really care whether I'd survived or not!"
For a moment I was lost for words. "I - I - ha!" Hillary and Bryce just watched the interchange, intrigued. "I admit, it wasn't the end of the world if you'd got fried, I could have got that painting myself, but it wasn't like I wanted you dead!"
"You didn't exactly want me alive either," Lara pointed out, smiling with just a hint of evil intent. She was clearly enjoying this. I needed revenge. Soon. And I knew just when to get it.
"I didn't know you then!"
Lara smiled, accepting but superior, knowing that she had won that particular match.
As she reached the part where I had pilfered the painting from her in the Louvre, I got ready to strike. I fully expected her to gloss over the rather personal details of the mugging, and she did.
"The next thing I know there's a gun at my temple and a hand in my backpack."
I leant my elbow on the table and my head in my hand as I turned towards her in my seat and, chewing on a tortilla chip, smiled at her devastatingly. She glanced towards me as I knew she would, and, met with my irresistible air of gorgeousness, quickly looked away again, embarrassed. As planned, Hillary and Bryce saw the whole thing. Score one for Trent.
As dinner ended, Lara disappeared into the kitchen to help Hillary with the washing up, drowning out his protests with a shouted order that she was the lady of the house and she'd do the washing up if she wanted to, and anyway, she was bored.
Bryce left, but did not go far, as he was waiting for me around the corner when I hobbled out of the dining room.
"So? What was that about? Spill!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Bryce," I said, feigning innocence.
"You! Smiling! Lara! Embarrassed! She's -never- embarrassed."
I continued down the corridor to the lounge. "Were you at the same dinner as us just now?"
Bryce leapt in front of me, effectively holding me hostage. He folded his arms. "Tell me."
"Well, she might have been remembering - nah, that was nothing." I turned and started off in the opposite direction, smiling conspiratorially to myself.
"Kurtis," Bryce said warningly. I stopped, stood up straight, and stared off towards the other end of the hall.
"A little more happened at the mugging than just a gun, if you know what I mean."
"No. I don't."
"First rule of holding a gun on someone is to make sure that you really do have the advantage." Blank silence from behind me. I turned. "I had to disarm her and check that she wasn't carrying any concealed weapons?" More silence. "I had to search her?"
Bryce's face took on a look of utter disbelief. "Noooo. You didn't?!"
"You mean you wouldn't?"
"You - " Bryce pointed at me, lost for words, looked back towards the kitchen, and then stared at me, open-mouthed, before smiling. "Nice one."
I was in the gym the next day getting ready for my first visit from the physiotherapist when Lara and Bryce appeared in the doorway, physiotherapist in tow.
"Kurtis, this is Mrs Tanser," said Lara, smiling as she motioned for her to step forward.
"Good morning, Mr Trent. I hear you're recovering from quite an adventure." The woman, mid thirties, blonde and bespectacled, stepped forward with a smile and placed her bag down on the floor.
"Er…" I stalled as I looked to Lara to see just what the physio had been told. Lara, realising that we didn't have our stories straight and couldn't really tell the truth about my injury, widened her eyes in worry for a second. Bryce, who was obviously there when the physio had arrived, mimed leaping out on Lara, who immediately caught on. The two grappled behind Mrs Tanser, who stood smiling at me, waiting for my explanation.
"Well," I said, darting my eyes back to Mrs Tanser so she wouldn't grow suspicious, "I was jumped from behind."
Apparently wrong - Bryce drew his finger across his throat and Lara swept out her arms, glaring at me and miming 'No!'.
"I mean, er, I jumped a guy from behind."
Bryce and Lara's little play morphed into Bryce holding Lara at gunpoint and Lara holding the back of her hand against her head dramatically, looking damsel-ish.
"He was threatening a woman," I guessed, glancing between my accomplices and Mrs Tanser, who was regarding me strangely.
Lara and Bryce broke into a silent scuffle, Bryce aiming a scruffy kick at Lara's stomach, who threw herself back against the wall whilst somehow making no sound.
"He kicked me," I said, looking back to Mrs Tanser, who smiled and turned to look over her shoulder to see just what was distracting me. Lara and Bryce leapt back to their original positions, standing and smiling sweetly back to her. She looked back to me. Bryce thrust a pretend knife into Lara's stomach.
"I fell back, and he, er, he stabbed me. With a knife."
Mrs Tanser smiled politely and nodded. "Yes, yes, quite. Lady Croft did mention it." She laughed, a little unsure, and then said, "Shall we get started?"
"Um, yeah. Yeah, sure." I smiled unnecessarily and glared at the duo for their pitiful acting.
After the physiotherapy session, I saw Mrs Tanser out and then went to lie down, tired and aching after the exertion. I soon fell asleep, tossing fitfully as I dreamt.
"Focus!" my father yelled at me, towering above me with my chirugai in his hand, his knuckles white with rage. His hand flicked forward and the chirugai, blades spinning, lurched towards the side of my head. Crying out, I ducked, but the chirugai just turned back on itself and charged again. I threw myself backwards to distance myself from the weapon, to give myself just enough time to gather my thoughts and direct them, to push the chirugai away. My kinetic abilities hit the chirugai like an invisible racket, bouncing it back the way it had come, but my father was faster and stronger, and grabbed back command of the lethal disc, directing it in an arc around me and up behind me. The glow lit the dim room just enough to highlight the hard wooden floor around us as I dropped to it, letting my hijacked weapon sail forwards over me. Flipping over onto my back I screamed in rage as I thrust my hand towards the chirugai to amplify my telekinetic push, knocking the bladed disc off its path, sending it spinning straight towards my father's throat at a speed far greater than was normal. He ducked just in time, as the chirugai ploughed through where his jugular had been not a second before, before lodging its blades deep in the wooden panelled wall behind him with a thud.
Realising what I had done, I lay on the floor with my eyes wide in fear as I watched my father slowly straighten back up, his own eyes blazing.
"Good," he growled. Then he stepped over me and marched out of the room, leaving me lying in the dark with only the illumination from the hallway outside.
'Devastating' and 'irresistable'? My, Kurtis is turning out to be sure of himself! ;-)