A/N: Just a thing I want to explain before I let you read this: I'm a corner bug fan. And there is an invisible platform in TR3. Jordy says she's never been on that one, so it might be just my game that has it. But I've checked, and it's definitely there. From it you can jump onto a red platform on your left and then attempt to jump to the roof. Most likely you'll be plummeting to a sure death, unless Winston brings you a ladder.

Btw, this is the last HotB chapter. There's an epilogue coming, though, but for now, that's all. Thanks for all the reviews and hope you enjoy this one!

HOME OF THE BRAVE

ACT IV

These stairs are murder. Murder. Winston grunts, stopping to massage his lower back, and wonders if it isn't about time he asked Lara to have a lift installed. But he suspects he knows what her answer will be, namely, "Certainly, as long as you pay for it. I can't afford it." With a sigh, he makes a mental note to ask his estate agent to verify that that lovely pink Bahamas villa is all on ground level.

The door to the attic is wide open. He puts his head in and scans the shadows. Someone is up there, shoving things around.

"Lara?"

"Yes, it's me."

"What are you doing?"

It's just a rhetorical question, since it's pretty obvious that she's trying to lift the top of one crate by means of the expertly used crowbar. When she finally succeeds, she climbs into the crate and starts tossing out armfuls of straw, much to Winston's dismay. The shower of straw stops all of a sudden, and from the depths of the crate, she exclaims "A-ha…"

Winston opens his mouth to comment on the procedure, sneezes, retrieves his handkerchief and blows his nose. His eyes fly wide open when a cylinder of dark metal flies out of the crate, landing at his feet with a dull thud. "Oh dear…"

"He threw all the tea into the swimming pool!"

"He…? God help us!" Winston clasps a hand to his heart. "I thought I could hear strange noises, early this morning…"

Her head shoots out of the crate like a Jack-in-the-box, and over the rim, throws him the kind of icy glare that would freeze the blood of anyone blessed with less phlegm than the old butler.

"I thought it was mice! They're all over the place!" he defends himself. "My dear, are you sure about this? That thing makes really big holes…"

"This situation calls for a drastic solution. No one, NO ONE, certainly no bloody cheeky Yank will lay a finger on my tea and escape unscathed!" She flings more metallic pieces out of the box, and jumping out, starts assembling the scattered parts, a determined look on her face.

Winston sneezes again into his handkerchief. Purposefully, she strides past him, the rocket-launcher cradled amorously on the crook of her arm. In her wake, a little mouse scampers down the stairs, headed for the nearest exit. When the rats start leaving the sinking ship… Winston muses to himself. "Shall I ring the glazier and tell him to drop around later?" he ventures.

"I won't hit the window this time," she replies darkly.

He takes a prim step aside to allow a whole family of mice to rush past him. "Want to bet?"

XXX

He adjusts his helmet, strapping it securely under his chin, and studies the empty garden. The lawnmower lies abandoned beside a rose bush, glinting in the sun. No sign of Kurtis. "Alas, poor Yorick…" Winston sighs, and starts patrolling the assault-course, holding a hand to his chest to prevent the tea tray from sliding out of his camouflage shirt.

"Psst, Winston!"

He looks up, squinting. Kurtis is sprawled prone, a worried look on his face, holding on for dear life to the edge of… nothing. Thin air.

"Sir!" a scandalized Winston reproaches, "What on earth are you doing up there!"

"Don't ask me! I meant to climb up that platform over there…" Kurtis motions with his head towards the monkey bars, "… jumped up and…" he makes a helpless gesture, "Winston, help me. I'm standing on nothing!"

"Lying on nothing," Winston corrects, shading his eyes to admire the view. "Not the worst choice of a hiding place at the present time, I must admit…"

"She mad?"

"Noo-oo," the butler says, sounding doubtful.

"She is!"

"Oh well," he concedes, "This be madness, yet there is method in't…"

"How do I get down now?"

"Jump, I suppose."

"No way, man. I'll break my goddam neck…"

Winston considers the problem, "… if I had to choose between a broken neck and my head being blown out by a rocket launcher…"

"Oh crap. I'm in hell!"

"Not yet, Sir, not yet."

"Can't you calm her down or something?"

"I don't know," he shakes slowly his head, "she's in quite a state…"

"What do you want?" Kurtis pleads, desperate. "The bike?"

"Hmm…" Winston tilts his head, thinking hard. Sure, he owns the quad bike already, but that Triumph should look classy. Somehow, he can picture himself arriving in a motorized Union Jack to pick up his date. He grins conspiratorially and nods. Kurtis quickly searches his pocket and drops his bike key at the butler's feet.

"Would you prefer a ladder or the tea tray?" Winston asks.

XXX

KABOOOOOM!

"Jesus!" Kurtis exclaims, his eyes darting towards the house. "What the hell was that!"

"What a shame…" Winston sighs again, following his glance. "That coffee machine was brand new…"

Finis, until Akkon finds the epilogue somewhere among her files

XXX

"Alas, poor Yorick" and "This be madness, etc." -the bard again. This time, Hamlet.

For some reason, ffnet won't let me put a divider between the scenes, like I usually do. It shouldn't matter, but being the obsessive maniac I am, it's a good thing I don't own a rocket-launcher.