Crypt Raider
By Verbosity
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Well, I
own, nothing, except the plot. All
characters
are the properties of their respective owners, who are
not
me...I make no profit, nor do I dig into anyone else's, at least
not
that I know of, so don't sue.
As always, the more feedback, the happier I am. So please, make me happy.
Chapter 4Xander flagged down the steward as he passed by in the aisle and inquired after something to drink. Talking to Lara for hours almost nonstop had dried out his mouth. He had started by giving her the basic rundown on Sunnydale but it had quickly become more than that.
Lara listened. Xander wasn't sure anyone had ever listened to him quite like that, not even Wills. Back home rarely did anyone truly listen to him; there was always some kind of sub-context going on: we know more about this than you do, or your not smart enough to give any good ideas about this, Xander. Sometimes it was very subtle but it was there. Everyone was always surprised when he came up with a good idea, no matter how many times he did it. Lara, however, sat quietly, un-interrupting, as he spoke about the Hellmouth and the associated evils. Her gaze remained steady and intent never wavering from his face, attention never drifting, her expression occasionally changing as one emotion or another invoked by the story played over her features.
Maybe it was the attention or maybe it was her sympathetic listening: a quiet encouraging warmth that urged him to continue whenever he paused or faltered, but he found himself telling her far more than he intended.
The story of how he was introduced to vampires was hesitatingly drawn from him as he told her of Jessie, of how he had to stake his best friend. Sadness and sympathy flashed in her blue eyes, but she did not voice any platitudes. She seemed to understand that he was past that point; all he wanted now was to make sure that no one ever had to do something like that again. The barebones of the last seven years of Sunnydale history were outlined over the course of several hours, all leading up to the events of the present. He tried not to let his turmoil and frustration leak through in his relating of the current situation, but from the thoughtful look in her eyes he didn't think he had succeeded.
He just decided to go with the old orange juice route to slaking his thirst when the steward mentioned that dinner would be coming around soon. Proverbial ears perking up at the mention of food, he began to quiz the man on the menu.
Hellmouth. That was a new word in Lara's experience. The story Xander had told her was startling, amazing, horrifying, and shocking. It made her reassess her perceptions of the relentlessly cheerful, sometimes goofy acting, young man sitting next to her on the plane.
Lara knew of vampires, her rather unorthodox activities having brought her into contact with them more than once, and she knew of many other strange and terrible things that walked the night. Remnants from past civilizations and forgotten ages lay in the dark corners of the earth, but these things were few and far between, encountered only when she sought them out in pursuit of one goal or another.
She studied him as he grilled the steward on what the menu was for the flight. To be living practically on top of a doorway into Hell, that was held shut only by the most ethereal of chains. To remain there when the contents of Hell threatened to spill out over the world as an almost regular occurrence… She gave a little shiver. Her opinion of him just went up, sharply.
Xander's world had been saved by the members of his little group time and again. The things he had told her were amazing, but the things he had left unsaid were equally frightening. Lara was impressed by what they had accomplished and what they had endured, individually, and as a group. She was less impressed by many more recent decisions, though she understood them.
Ever since the crash and her traumatic two-week trek through the Himalayas had utterly changed her outlook Lara had been a firm believer in choices. Everyone was responsible for their own choices. You didn't have control of everything in your life, a good thing in her view, but you had control of what you did with the options you had. If you didn't like what you had become you had no one to blame but yourself.
Xander obviously wasn't the type to blurt out his friends confidences but Lara had always been very adept at reading between the lines; a skill honed to a fine art by her culture-hopping lifestyle. Learning to read people and events, both from what they said and left unsaid, had saved her life more than once. The implications she had read into the events happening in his world and, more specifically, the behavior of the people involved, were frightening.
The future of that world rested in the hands of a moderately self-centered girl suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder, a Wicca who had traumatic issues of her own and addictive tendencies, an unstable vampire just recently imbued with a soul, who had done more harm than good, and three or four others, all with serious issues of their own. God help them all.
It was early morning when they arrived in London. Reaching customs, Xander, lacking a passport and visa, was immediately shunted to a small featureless holding room off one of the back corridors. When the customs agent motioned for him to follow Lara said, "Go with him Xander. I just need to make a few phone calls and I'll get everything straightened out."
Almost an hour later Xander was beginning to get a little worried, not to mention bored of staring at white walls, when the door finally swung open. The middle aged official-looking gentleman who entered was followed immediately by Lara who gave him a grin and "thumbs up" behind the man's back. Xander felt his stomach do a little pleasant flip-flop at her grin, but didn't have much time to dwell on the sensation as the gentleman held out a couple pieces of paper to him and said, "Terribly sorry for the wait Mr. Harris. Lady Croft has arranged a visa for you for an indefinite length of stay. Welcome to England."
"Uh, thanks."
Turning to go he stopped at the doorway, "And Mr. Harris. Do try to remember your passport next time. It does tend to be useful when traveling internationally."
Xander looked after the departed man for a moment then raised an eyebrow at Lara, "British sarcasm hunh?"
"It's a trademark. Now come on, my bruises desperately want a bath and I suspect you're probably as tired as I am."
A short stop at the baggage claim later saw them at the curb just outside the terminal.
Looking around at few people loading bags into cars or crossing the street to the parking garage, Xander said, "Are you parked in the garage or should I try and flag down a taxi?"
Lara glanced at him with a slight smirk. "Neither, I've arranged for a car to be delivered."
"Delivered? What…"
Xander trailed off as, with a purring rumble, a silver Aston Martin pulled in smoothly to the curb in front of them. A young gentleman exited the vehicle and Lara stepped to meet him.
"Lady Croft."
"Hello, Greg."
She signed the papers he presented to her and took the keys. "Thanks for bringing the car out."
The young man gave her a cheerful grin. "It's what we do, and it was a pleasure. Not many of our customers have cars that are this much fun to drive."
"Glad you enjoyed it. Until next time."
"Lady Croft."
The young man gave Xander a nod before wandering off toward the shuttle station.
Lara stuffed her bag in back of the seat and paused, looking at Xander, who was still standing on the curb staring at the car. Leaning her elbows on the top of the car she just raised her eyebrows at him.
"That is an Aston Martin, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"That's so cool. A bond car." Xander was practically drooling.
"I thought you'd like it."
A few moments later as Xander settled into the luxurious seat and Lara turned the key in the ignition, she asked, "James was in the movie as well?"
"Hunh?"
"You said, Bond car."
"Yeah. Wait a minute, you mean…"
"The car was a gift from James." Xander stared at her, mouth hanging open. "Oh, and don't touch any of the buttons." She gestured at the dash. "He left most of the extra's in."
Okay, just another freaky, yet strangely cool happening. Not only is there a Lara Croft but apparently James Bond exists here too. Hum. I must be in British superhero world.
Xander watched the streets of London fade into the suburbs and then to fields as Lara drove them south away from the airport. She seemed lost in thought as she steered the car smoothly along the roads. The sky had begun to lighten with the coming dawn and Xander felt sandy-eyed with lack of sleep. A yawn cracked his jaw.
"It won't be much longer. Feel free to doze if you'd like."
He turned his head away from the window and toward her. The growing light illuminated her profile and he was struck again by her beauty.
"What is it?"
He realized he was staring at her. "I'm sorry. It's just this is all so surreal. This morning I was watching TV, and I caught a commercial announcing the new Lara Croft movie. Now, thirty some odd hours later, here I am, in England, with Lara Croft, and driving in James Bond's car. What would the guys…" He trailed off, a sudden lump in his throat.
Into the sudden silence Lara said, "I'll do my best to get you home Xander."
"Taking a deep breath he said, half seriously, "What, no promises?"
She gave a little sad smile. "I never make promises that I'm not certain I can keep. We have the statue that's at the root this all, but I can't be certain it will get you back, and Bryce is contacting the people who might be able to help, so don't think you are alone in this." One hand came off the steering wheel, took Xander's, and gave it a firm squeeze.
They sat in silence for a time as the car moved along the Surry roads. Xander gazed around as they passed woods, fields, and the occasional large mansion. Craning his neck he saw a group of horses gambling around in one of the fields.
"Do you have horses?"
"Yes, several."
"Do you ride?"
"That would go with having the horses. Yes." Her voice had a touch of irony in it.
"Hey, you're rich, you're British, and you're eccentric. You don't need a reason to have them."
"Eccentric am I?"
"In comparison to ninety-nine percent of the world population? Yes. Of course that doesn't mean that the ninety-nine percent doesn't want to be like you."
"I'll take that as a rather odd compliment."
"You should."
The car rounded one of the rolling hills and Lara slowed the car to turn into the gate guarding the driveway along the north side of the road. "Here we are."
They passed through the open wrought iron gate, bathed in the first touch of the suns light, and passed down the driveway. Xander had the impression, looking around, of the same types of fields and woods that he had seen all the way here. As they pulled up toward the manor he thought, Yup just like the movie.
