Lara Croft: Mardi Gras
Lara Croft short fiction by Sarah
Scrisman@juno.com

Legalese and other stuff you probably won't read:

  This story is a work of fiction, using characters © EIDOS Interactive and CORE 
Design Ltd.  The events and characters portrayed within have nothing to do with real 
life whatsoever, and if you find any resemblance to yourself or anyone you know, 
living or dead, then you are probably weird.
  As always, I LOVE feedback, and I know this is a very short piece, but it is a story 
nonetheless, and I put an entire evening's work into writing it (at work, no less).  I 
really want to know what you think of it.  You keep writing me, and I'll keep writing 
stuff for you.  Deal?  Good. ;-)

										*smooch*
										       Sarah


	Lara made her way slowly through the crowd assembled on the streets, 
muttering to herself softly.  Of all the days Raphael Tomkin had to pick to mess with 
this trip, why did it have to be this day in this city?
	Mardi Gras.  Fat Tuesday.  In Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  People everywhere in 
various states of dress.  Or undress, Lara noted as she saw the woman getting her 
breasts painted with bright yellow and orange flames shooting away from the 
nipples.  A fairly popular attraction, judging by the leering and gawking onlookers.
	Seemed like all the women she saw had strings of beads around their necks, 
and everyone had one of those cheap Hawaiian frilly things adorning their necks.  
Lara normally considered herself to be a fairly casual dresser, but in this crowd, she 
was more overdressed than anything, irregardless of the fact that she had rolled her 
shorts up an extra inch, balled and knotted her shirt at her stomach, and tucked the 
sleeves of her shirt inside.
	Were she not after something worth thousands of dollars to the British Royal 
Museum, she might have stopped to enjoy herself.  The atmosphere reminded her of 
the one time she had snuck away in the middle of the night to attend the carnival that 
had come to her city.  The only difference between then and now was the fact that 
she had been a very young, eager, excited, and not a little bit frightened child the 
last time.  Now, however, she was angry, and here virtually against her will.  Tomkin 
didn't have to have stolen that ring.  But now she was wandering through this throng, 
up to her eyebrows with impatience, looking for Raphael, that damned little Italian 
Mafia dropout with a taste for stealing rare artifacts and then selling them to-
	"SHOW YOUR TITS!!!!!"
	Lara's head and eyebrows went up simultaneously to see a male of about 
twenty years standing in front of her, a large grin plastered to his face which was 
locked to her chest more precisely than the USS Enterprise's phasers could ever 
have been.  "I beg your pardon?"
	The man threw his head back and cackled.  "C'mon, I got a whole three 
strands of beads for ya!  Show your tits!  You new here or something?  Trouble with 
English?"
	Without blinking, Lara pulled one of her pistols from the belt holster and 
touched it lightly to the man's nose.  "Show your brains, if you have any left after all 
that you've been drinking and smoking, and get out of my face," she said calmly.  "I 
don't have time for this."
	"H…h…here, you can h…h…have the beads," the man told her, tossing the 
beads at her, and running off into the crowd.
	Lara holstered her weapon and resumed her search.  She looked up to the 
apartment balconies above her where Michael was busy scanning the crown, looking 
for any sign of their quarry.
	Michael's eyes went wide for a moment as he looked first to the crowd, then 
down to the picture he held in his hand, then back to the photo again.  He caught 
Lara's eye and pointed wildly to a section of people down the road.
	Lara followed his pointing finger and broke into a trot, shoving the staggering 
masses out of her way as her eyes acquired her target.  "Raphael!!"
	Tomkin's head snapped around, and his eyes closed themselves to slits.  
Then he saw her.  "Shit."  He ran against the people as best he could, but a 
bottleneck at the cross-street slowed him down.
	Lara stalked him through the masses, knowing full well he couldn't navigate 
the crowds as quickly as she could.  Vaulting over a body piercing display, much to 
the delight of several onlookers, she landed virtually on top of him.
	But this time, when Raphael Tomkin turned around, he had something else.  A 
hostage.  "Hold it right there, my dear," he ordered.  "I've got a fine young lady here 
who really wants you to not come any closer."
	Lara froze.  The woman whom Raphael had grabbed seemed to be unsure as 
to whether this was something serious or just another street play.  Best that she not 
know, Lara told herself.  "Alright, Raphael."  She held her hands above her head.  
"Just let the girl go.  It's me you want."  She took a step forward.
	"You just stick to that spot like a statue, Lara," Tomkin ordered, poking his 
knife into the hostage's back.
	"Hey!" the woman declared.  "Your little toy is hurting me!"
	"Good," Tomkin said.  "Just play along, and you will be fine."
	"Oh," the woman giggled.  "EEEEEEEEKKK!!!!!!" she yelled.  "Help me, 
someone!"

	From up above, Michael had managed to maneuver into a position above the 
action.  Shit, she thinks this is all a damn movie…Well, in that case…  "No, no, no!" 
he called out.  "This is NOT where the victim screams for help!"  He jumped from the 
balcony to the street, an exasperated look on his face.
	What the bloody hell is he doing?? Lara's brain screamed at her.
	"Who the hell are you?" Tomkin glared.
	Michael rolled his eyes and looked at Tomkin's hostage.  "Where, exactly, in 
the script did it say for you to scream for help?" he yelled at her.
	"But, I'm not a part of-"
	"Don't give me that garbage.  I didn't hire you to scream like a little girl!  
You're the heroine, for crying out loud!  You don't wail like some abandoned kitten!  
You take ACTION!  You kick him in the crotch!!"
	"Like this?" she asked, bringing her knee into Tomkin's groin full-force.
	Tomkin doubled over in pain, dropping the knife.  His hands moved to cover 
his genitals.  Water streamed from his eyes as he fell to the street, still balled up like 
a newborn baby.
	Lara stepped over to Michael's side, watching Raphael rolling on the ground, 
squeaking.
	Michael walked up to the woman, handed her a massive string of beads, and 
a $50 bill.  "A WONDERFUL job!" he beamed.  "If you EVER need another part like 
that, just look me up, OK?"
	"Wow!" the girl squealed.  "I didn't even know I was-"
	"Oh, don't be modest!" Michael interrupted her.  "You were great!"
	As if on a prompt, the watching members of the crown applauded lightly.
	"Hey, man!" remarked a tall, surfer looking man nearby, pointing to Raphael.  
"Is that dude like, OK?  I mean, she gave him one AGGRO kick to the jewelry box…"
	"Oh, he's fine," Michael reassured the man.  "He just really gets into his parts.  
Really enjoys playing them to the fullest."
	"Yeah," the man commented, "I mean, that dude like, you know, really 
conveys the feeling of being slammed in the nards really hard, you know?  You 
should, like, give him a raise or something."  He looked at Tomkin again.  "Dude!  
Keep it up, man!  You look in serious pain!"
	It was all Michael could do to keep from exploding with laughter, but he held it 
in.
	Lara walked over to Tomkin and extracted the ring from his finger.  She bent 
down beside him and placed her lips near his ear.  "Remember," she whispered to 
him, "I stole this back first."  She got to her feet and walked back over to Michael.  
"Let's go."
	Michael faced the audience as though speaking to a cameraman only he 
could see.  "Cut!  Alright, that's a wrap, people!"
	He and Lara watched as the crowd dispersed, then went their own way.

	The night fell on Michael and Lara as they looked out the window of their hotel 
room at the crowds on the streets.  Fireworks exploded in the star-lit skies, and also 
on the ground below.  The celebrations seemed to be going on everywhere at once; 
a hundred radios playing a hundred different musical styles all at once.
	"You know," Lara stated, "I think I'm actually glad I decided to stay.  This is 
certainly something not to be missed."
	Michael leaned across the bed and clicked the light on the night table off.  
The fireworks outside got a little brighter.  "I'm certainly having fun," he told her.  
Their lips met softly, as he put his arms around her, then they turned their attention 
back to the stars.
	"Show your tits!!" someone outside hollered.
	The sound of Lara removing her shirt was unmistakable to Michael in the 
dark, and before too long, the fireworks outside could no longer rival those in the 
hotel room…