She unzipped her black leather jacket and pulled off her sweat pants, revealing her working outfit of leotard, brown shorts and hiking boots. Lara pulled her gunbelt from the motorcycle saddlebags and a moment later she headed through the trees.
Shortly she came to an open field, and right in front of her was the log cabin. It was a moderate size, and built on the side of a hill. In the daytime it must have a pretty spectacular view of the surrounding area. A bright security lamp illuminated the front of the house and most of the back yard, but there was a small area that remained in shadow. Lara kept to this dark area as she moved quietly to the back of the building.
The window was open only a few inches and it took a little effort on her part to push it open. Once inside, she moved quietly to the hall. She had watched the house for quite a while the night before and had a pretty good idea where the bedroom was.
When she got to the end of the hall, the bedroom door was open. In the moonlight she could see a figure under the blanket. Lara slipped quietly into the room. It was payback time.
Suddenly a hand covered her mouth and her head was forced back. Lara's hands darted for her guns, but she froze when she felt the metal against her throat.
"I'd let go of those guns, if I were you," said the voice behind her.
Lara reluctantly lifted her arms. The hands at her mouth and throat withdrew and she stood quietly as she was disarmed. Again. She heard the guns being placed on a nearby hard surface and disgustedly slipped her hands behind her back. She knew what would happen next.
But it didn't.
"Aren't you going to handcuff me?"
"Are you my prisoner?" Spade replied.
"I suppose so," she said disgustedly. "How did you know..."
"This place is wired like you wouldn't believe. I knew you were here long before you crawled through the window. And I also happen to have an old M14 with a starlight scope on it."
"So what happens now?"
He stepped in front of her. "Well, lady, what do you expect? You've broken into my house in the middle of the night. You're right, I oughta handcuff you. But I've got something better in mind."
"Oh? And what, may I ask is that?"
He grasped her by the upper arms. "I'd like very much to kiss you."
Lara blinked in surprise, a little nervous at his close physical presence. "You're asking me?"
He nodded. "Only a fool would try to kiss you without your permission, Lara Croft."
She yanked away from him. "Give me one good reason why I should, Spade. You are nothing but a low-down, sneaky, back-shootin' cowboy, as you Americans would say."
He nodded. "True. I am that."
"So why should I even think about kissing some wild American?"
"Well, how about a kiss of luck? For all the adventures we've shared together. That sort of thing."
For a moment she searched his face. Then: "You know, Spade, it's a good thing you didn't handcuff me." She slipped her arms around his neck. "I wouldn't enjoy it with my hands behind me."
Spade laughed. His mouth covered hers and for a long moment Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, was Lara Croft, the woman. It had been a while since she'd been kissed and she liked his arms around her.
A moment later she stood in his embrace, her head against his shoulder. A momentary feeling of sadness touched her. There were so few good ones, like this strong man next to her. And even when she found one, it never seemed to last.
"Spade?" she murmured.
He stroked her hair. "I'm still here," he said with amusement.
"We've been through a lot together. I just realized that I don't even know your name."
"I don't use it much," he replied. "It's Ebenezer."
Lara pushed herself away so she could see his face. "Ebenezer?"
Spade laughed. "Nah. Just kidding. Actually it's Jim."
She shoved him away and raised her fist. "Why you....!"
He held up his hand. "Remember, lady. You're my prisoner."
She stuck out her chin. "All right, mister. You've got me. Now what?"
"Follow me."
Lara walked behind him to the garage and watched as Spade pressed the button to open the big overhead door. The light came on and Lara blinked at the sudden illumination.
Spade walked past the Audi A4 to a tarp-covered object on the far side.
Lara's eyebrows went way up when she saw the shape of what was under the tarp. "You're kidding?"
Spade laughed. "Nope." And he pulled back the tarp, revealing the big Harley motorcycle.
"Nice bike." Lara's eyes twinkled. Spade liked to ride motorcycles? Oh, really?
Spade smiled in obvious pride for his big machine. "A buddy got me into it while I was in the Navy." He turned to her. "Can I take you for a midnight ride, Lara Croft?"
She put her hand on his arm. "Yes, Jim Spade. I'd love to go."
Spade's smile faded and for a moment he was silent.
"What's wrong, Jim?" After all this time it was hard to call him anything but Spade.
"Before we go, Lara. I need to say something. I guess you know that I think a lot of you. I'd like nothing better than to keep you prisoner here for the rest of your life. I'd even throw in a gold ring to keep you honest."
Her mouth dropped open. Was he proposing to her? "You're very sweet, Spade, but…"
He sighed. "Yeah. I know it wouldn't work. Not for very long anyway. No tiger is happy bein' chained up. But I would be honored if we could stay friends, maybe get together once in a while."
Lara smiled fondly. "It's a deal." And she proceeded to seal it with a kiss. At first it was light and very sweet, a thank you for his friendship. But then it became something more, a bond between them perhaps, maybe a promise for the future.
When they came up for air, Spade chuckled. "Whew! You do that as well as you shoot that nine millimeter, lady. I think I'd like some more…"
He leaned in to kiss her again, but Lara laughed and shoved him backward. "Back off, you big ruffian. Let's go for a ride."
Smiling, Spade swung his foot over the motorcycle and kicked it to a start. "Hop on, biker girl."
She climbed up behind him and her arms circled around his chest.
"You know, Spade," Lara said in his ear. "I wonder if that Chuck Brite is gonna write another story about us."
Spade shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"
He shut off the engine and they turned to me.
"Well, how about it, sir?" Lara asked. "Are we going to be together again on some other grand adventure?"
"I don't know," I replied. "I think it would be fun. I suspect that Britches would like to tag along. Arizona, too. He's sweet on her, you know."
Lara glanced at Spade in surprise. "He is?"
Spade nodded. "That's right. He spent the whole week talking about her."
"So, yeah," I continued. "There could be another story. It all depends on whether or not anyone's interested enough to ask for one. Fifty-four thousand words is a lot of work if only a few people like it enough to say so."
Lara let go of Spade and hopped off the bike. She walked over to me and looked me right in the eye. "Let's just be sure about one thing, Mr. Author."
I was suddenly face to face with the most intense pair of brown eyes I've ever seen. "What's that?" I replied, a little nervously.
"If I'm going to be in another of your adventures, you'd better not get me killed." She jabbed me in the chest with her finger. "You do that and I'll come back and shove that word processor of yours right down your throat. You got that?"
"Yes, ma'am," I replied sheepishly.
She stepped back and smiled sweetly. "Good. Now be so kind as to go somewhere else while Jim and I go for a ride in the moonlight."
She turned away and for a few seconds I was a little stunned. Like you, I've played the computer game and seen her pictures in the magazines. None of it comes close to doing her justice. On the one hand, she is the most incredibly beautiful woman I've ever had the privilege of meeting. On the other hand, she is….well, maybe intense is the right word.
She had just returned to the bike when I called after her.
"Oh, Miss Croft?" Somehow I just couldn't bring myself to call her Lara.
She turned. "Yes?"
"Aren't you going to take your guns? They're still lying on the table in the bedroom."
"Oh," she replied. "Thank you for reminding me." But instead of going to get them, she unbuckled her gunbelt and set it on the floor. "For the next hour or so, I'm just going to be a girl, if that's all right with you."
Spade reached down on the other side of the bike and when his hand emerged, it held his .45 automatic. "Still," he declared. "It never hurts to be prepared."
Lara Croft laughed as she climbed up and put her arms around him. Then, with a screech of rubber, they roared into the night.
* * * * *
Well, that's about it, folks. We're finished with the story. But since you've come this far, I thought you'd be interested in a couple of updates.
Lara and Spade spent almost a week together. While he was being an outlaw during the day, she went for long rides on her rented motorcycle, exploring the surrounding area. It was a time of rest, both mentally and physically. Her injuries had been minor, except for her thigh, but even that was almost well.
The evenings were a time of sharing, and it was a bittersweet, because they knew it would soon end. Walking in the moonlight holding hands or seated on the front porch of his cabin with steaming cups of tea, they constantly probed each other, on one hand eager to learn more, and on the other hand afraid they would find something that would keep them forever apart.
Often they would sit watching the sunset, Lara nestled comfortably in his arms as they talked about nothing and everything. She slept soundly at night, her head pressed against his shoulder or his arm around her. But although they shared many tender moments together, he refused to make love with her.
"Goes with the gold ring, Lara," he told her the first night. "Call me old-fashioned if you wish, but I want it all. Not just a stolen moment or two. When you can tell me your thrill-seeking days are over, when you're ready to make me first in your life, only then can we be one."
Then he had smacked her on her rear end. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to, lady." Lara had responded by wrestling him to the floor and for several minutes they had each tried to get the best of the other. Finally, exhausted, they sat together in front of the fireplace, holding hands, each wishing it would never end.
"Miss?…Oh, Miss?"
The voice broke into Lara's consciousness and suddenly she realized that she had been daydreaming.
The woman behind the counter smiled. "Could I have your ticket, please."
Lara handed over the packet and saw the plastic sign behind the counter: London. She was going home…and away from a man she cared a lot about. But she just couldn't make the kind of commitment he demanded of her.
Well, maybe someday.
"Here you are, Miss Smith," smiled the ticket agent. "We'll be boarding in about twenty minutes."
Lara thanked her and turned away from the counter. Just enough time for a cup of tea.
She strolled down the concourse, her sadness at leaving mingled with eagerness to get home and see her friends again. She bought a large cup of tea at the concession stand and sat down at one of the small tables nearby.
Her nose wrinkled at the smell and her taste buds confirmed the weakness of the tea. Well, at least it was hot.
She'd only been seated for a moment when a group of four people approached her. Lara looked up to see three men and a woman. Her fingers drifted toward her handbag, which was always unlatched.
"Excuse us, Miss Croft," said the woman. "Chuck Brite said it was okay if we ask for your autograph. I hope we're not disturbing you?"
Lara groaned mentally. So much for incognito. "No, that's quite all right."
She glanced in my direction, and the look in her eyes said I was going to hear about it later.
"My name's Gypsy," said the woman, handing Lara her autograph book.
Lara looked up from signing the book. "Gypsy? As in the traveling nomads?"
"Well, not so much the traveling part. I'm from Alabama, in the U.S.A."
Lara laughed and handed back the book. "Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Gypsy. Your blue outfit is very attractive."
Another book was placed in front on her. Lara looked up to see a man in a military uniform, Italian air force from the looks of it. Gold wings on his chest proclaimed him a pilot.
"Hello, Miss Croft, my name's Luca. My friends call me Lucky Luke."
Lara started writing in the book. "What do you fly, Luke?"
The officer shrugged. "Most anything, ma'am. Comanches, Mirages, F-18's. Even flew a stealth fighter once."
She handed back the book with a smile. "There you go. Check six, Mr. Luke."
He brought his hand up in a sharp salute. "Always, Miss Croft. Thank you."
Next to hand over his book was a young man in his mid-teens. "There you go, mum. My name's Bachrun."
Lara looked up with a grin at his accent. "From the UK? Let me guess. Midlands, right?"
He smiled. "Yes, mum. You must be glad to be going home."
Her smile faded abruptly. "Well, yes. I suppose so. It's…it's always hard to leave good friends."
He accepted the book from her. "Thank you. I liked reading the story about you and Spade."
The last man was in his late thirties and had an electric guitar slung over his back. "Thank you for letting us share your adventure, Fraulein. I'm Stefan, I live near Frankfurt, in Germany." He spoke with an accent, but she had no difficulty understanding him.
"My goodness," said Lara, writing in his book. "You are certainly an international group. What brings you all to New York?"
"We came just to meet you, Fruelein Lara," replied Stefan. "We were among the first to finish reading the story, and Mr. Brite made, ah, arrangements for us to come here."
"Paging Miz Smith," the loudspeaker said. "Miz Andriana Smith. Please dial 6274 on any white courtesy telephone for an important message."
Lara got quickly to her feet and picked up her cup of tea. "Excuse me. I need to go answer that. Nice to meet all of you." She turned toward the while telephone on the wall, about a hundred feet away.
"You might at least warn me when you're going to pull a trick like that," she said tersely.
"Sorry," I replied, hurrying to catch up with her. "It came up at the last minute. I hope you didn't mind too much?"
She glanced over at me. "Of course not. They were nice people." She stopped and turned to me. "Look, Chuck. It's been fun. But I'm off duty now. I'm going home. No more surprises."
I watched her walk away. A class act, no doubt about it. I glanced up and suddenly felt a touch of remorse at what was about to happen.
* * * * *
Puzzled, Lara stopped at the white telephone. Who could be paging her? Only Spade knew she was flying home today. Had he forgotten to tell her something? No matter, it would still be good to talk to him again.
She picked up the handset and punched the numbers.
"Thank you, Ms. Smith," the operator said. "Hold just a moment…ah…I have your party. Go ahead please."
"Hello? Spade?"
"You're an amateur, lady," the phone said in her ear.
The smile on her face disappeared in a hurry. "I beg your pardon?"
"Don't play stupid with me, Miss Croft."
"Who is this?" she demanded.
"The man who's going to kill you."
"I'm really tired of your little game, whoever you are."
"Why, Miss Croft, I am offended. I almost killed you in the burning truck. Surely you remember that?"
Ned? She looked wildly about. He was here, in New York?
"Actually, I could have killed you back in the ghost town, too. I was right across the street. That was a really good trick you pulled, by the way, jumping off like that."
"What do you want?" she demanded.
"Oh, not much," he replied. "At least for the moment. I didn't kill you because I didn't have a contract. Lucky for you the Darwood kid shot Max, else they would be shipping you home in a box."
"Did you come all the way to New York just to threaten me?"
"Why, no, ma'am. I'm not threatening you; I'm just telling you to watch your back. Like I said, I don't have a contract at the moment. But I'm bettin' that I can find one of your competitors who'd give me one. And after that, I'll be comin' to pay you a nice little visit. We'll have a little fun, you and I, right before I kill you."
"You're sick, mister."
"You think so? I could kill you right now, lady. And be gone before anybody knows a thing."
She turned and looked about wildly. Where was he?
"You're such an amateur," he childed. "Look above you."
Startled, she looked up. There he was, standing at a pay phone two floors above her. Less than fifty feet away. An easy shot. He'd picked the location well, too. There wasn't an escalator within 200 feet.
"Well, goodbye, lady," he chuckled. "I'll be seein' you, real soon. You have a nice day."
Frustrated and unable to do a thing about it, Lara watched him hang up the phone and melt into the crowd.
The tea was ice-cold, and the flight across the ocean was long. At home, she was greeted warmly by her staff and friends. But that night, alone in her big bed, Lara Croft found herself wishing she were at different home:
A log cabin in the woods.
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