Wow, the response to this was amazing! I know, so seven isn't exactly a lot of reviews, but that's darn good for a first chapter, when you look at my record. Thanks for the vote of confidence from all of you.

Nikoru Sanzo— legend has it most Scottish cuisine was based on a dare. (now where did I steal that line from again?) Including haggis. (shudder)

sophie— yay, another Gerard fan.... lots of those around these days, aren't there? Thanks for the vote....

FINVARRA— totally agree he shouldn't have died. Got very irritated when he did and would have broken something except.... I'm not really that kind of person. :)

Ayan Syria— thanks for the vote of confidence, glad you like my funnies... which lets face it is pretty much everything except for the Phantom phic....

Darlian— ooh, I love it when people say I'm hilarious! It doesn't happen nearly often enough. I don't exactly hate the Tomb Raider movies (I don't care that much) and really I appreciate any movie with Gerard Butler in it— they're pretty good popcorn flicks. This from a person who has like four "Van Helsing" fics.... (another stupid-but-entertaining movie)

Lady Lara Croft— thanks for the review! Here's the next chapter.

Shauniwritesit— (love your penname btw) Glad you like it.

Random thought: Hmm— the spell-checker recognizes "Croft" and "Gimli" (as I know from my LOTR fic) but not the British version of "favourite." Briefly, because my mind is wandering, Gerard Butler walks across the room shirtless, followed by a squirrel.

Chapter Two: Flashback: I Need Terry Sheridan

She used to say that a lot, usually for a different reason. They had met during a special ops mission, where she immediately attracted his attention by attempting to shoot him repeatedly in the head.

He dodged and she shot him in the foot instead.

The rest was history.

Later, after a fair-to-middling intense make-out session, she sighed and said, "Agent Sheridan—"

"Please, call me Terry."

"Terry?" The look on her face suggested that she was seriously reconsidering the desirability of their relationship. "Your name is Terry?"

"Terence, if you prefer." The snort with which she greeted this made him frown. "What's wrong with my name?"

"Terence? Terence 'Terry' Sheridan?" she repeated.

"Yeah, so?"

"Honestly, could you get anymore Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?"

He let go of her and stood up. "Well, when you come to terms with the sheer unadulterated metrosexuality of my name and appearance, please don't hesitate to jump off a cliff."

"What? Sorry, I didn't catch that."

He stood and started re-buttoning his shirt, glaring at her.

"No, really, I didn't understand you. Its that thick Scottish accent. That's why I tried to shoot you when we first met, you know. I've known too many Scotsmen."

"Yeah, I'll bet you have," Sheridan grumbled at his shirtfront.

"I heard that."

"I thought you couldn't understand because my accent is too thick," he jibed.

"I understood that part."

"Are you trying to tell me that you only understand insults?"

"What?"

He sighed deeply and looked down at himself. "God, I'm sexy," he said quietly. He looked up. "Do you have a mirror around here somewhere?"

Later, after they'd gotten everything straightened out somewhat, he told her he loved her.

She squinted at him. "What?"

Later than that, much later, he betrayed her and his country because, as he explained—

"They waved shiny things at me! Bright, shiny things!"

"What?"

He got a bit fed up.

"You're a moron!"

"How dare you!"

Now, as Sheridan crests the hill and looks over the bleak wasteland that the locals had optimistically called "The Cradle of Life" (perhaps in the hope that a developer would move in on it, plant some nice, un-freaky trees, put up a few condos) he thinks back on his relationship with Croft. He knows, in his heart, it was something special.

Mostly because, with the extraordinary prominence of Croft's lips, and Sheridan's own Scottish pout, they were actually able to kiss each other at a distance of up to three feet. They'd been invited on Letterman to demonstrate. Croft had said no because she thought it would compromise their covert status. Sheridan said no because he wanted to go on Conan O'Brian. Conan said he didn't want 'em. Sheridan tried to do something about this, but was prevented by Croft, who persuaded him to put the gun down. The sheer sexiness of Sheridan with a gun proved too much for her, and they kissed, demonstrating once more the usefulness of the Scottish pout, and causing Conan to observe that Croft had a tongue like a Great Dane. This in turn caused Letterman to invite them back on in his "Stupid Pet Tricks" segment, which insulted both Croft and Sheridan very much, and that was the real reason Dave spent all that time in the hospital.

There had been good times, and there had been bad.

In the end, there just hadn't been enough mirrors.