:o Here it is, my debut fanfic! It's only short, but there's plenty more to follow, I wanted to get an idea of whether people are interested before I post any more. Hope you like!
Chapter 1: Getting the Message
"Lara? It's Kurtis."
My breath stopped short in my chest. I hadn't heard that voice for nearly a month, but it felt like years.
The message continued. "I got your message about the research you've been doing, that sounds great. I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner, but I was stuck in hospital for weeks, thought I was gonna go crazy. Anyway, I'm out now, got back home yesterday, and yeah, can't wait to hear about what you've been finding out. I got your other message, about the banquet, sounds like a plan, if I can make it to England in time I'll be there. Got some stuff to sort out first, but then… I really wanna get moving with this." A pause. "So, okay, hope to see you soon." Another pause, longer this time, and I thought the message was over. A month since I had saved his hide and that was it – talk about short and sweet. But then the voice went on, sounding a little less confident: "Oh, yeah, and I hope everything's okay with you. Bye."
I smiled. I knew, and no doubt he did too, that it wasn't much in the way of thanks, but I felt touched nevertheless. I sat down at my desk, looking at the answer phone. The wave of relief I felt had taken me by surprise. I hadn't realised just how desperate I had been to hear from him – it was as if I'd been holding my breath for a month. I hadn't even known for sure if he was alive, although when I went to see him at the hospital in Prague the doctors said they were confident about his recovery. He'd been unconscious by the time I got him to hospital after we made it out of the Strahov, and needed surgery, so I'd had to wait through an agonising night before I could return and see how he was. The next day he was awake, but on a lot of medication and not able to talk much, so I had tentatively filled him in on what had happened with Eckhardt and Karel. He was clearly disturbed by the news that the story wasn't over with Eckhardt's demise. A lot of people's deaths still needed to be avenged, among them Kurtis' father. And, of course, my dear friend Werner. I'd had to leave Kurtis with bad news on top of his bad injuries, and catch my plane. We had exchanged contact details, and I swore to get to work researching our next move as soon as I arrived home.
But it had seemed so long without any word, and my calls had only reached an answer machine. I feared that maybe he hadn't pulled through. And if he had, maybe he didn't want to contact me, preferring to do things his own way. I resigned myself to the thought that I would never have chance to fight alongside him again, or to see what secrets were hidden in the depths of those blue eyes.
Now it was a different story. He was coming to England, with any luck in time for the Royal Archaeological Society's annual banquet. I had left him the message about that a week ago, adding as an afterthought that he was welcome to join me as my guest if he wanted, as there would be all manner of specialists there whose brains we could pick. I smiled again, wondering how soon I'd be able to sneak a look into those eyes again, and played the message a couple more times.
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