here we are. enjoy.
PALAIS DE DUPONT
It was a pleasant cool evening with a perfect sunset and Lara Croft stood outside the elegant 17th-century
home, taking it in as well as the exquisitely-trimmed lawns. 'Pierre has certainly done well for himself,' she
thought. Pierre DuPont was having a dinner party to celebrate his discovering the Dagger of Quan Cho, a
finely crafted emerald dagger from the Xia Dynasty thought to give its ower unlimited wealth and immortality.
Of course, the "discovering" actually entailed the Frenchman stealing it from the Tomb Raider's hotel room
in Shanghai four days after she found it inside the Great Wall. The double doors opened and, to her amused
surprise, Conrad Larson came out for a smoke, his rugged figure in a black tuxedo that actually fit him
well. That along with his military-cut blonde hair and his recent shave and the ex-Marine was actually almost
presentable.
"Good evening, Mr. Larson," Lara smiled coquettishly. "I must say, you actually clean up rather well."
Larson's eyes nearly bulged from his sockets as his mouth dropped at the vision before him. The Tomb
Raider's athletic, voluptuous figure was sheathed in a skintight black gown that hugged every curve and
had slits up each side to the hip and her feet were shod in black strappy stiletto sandals. Her chestnut
hair was set in a simple French braid and and onyx bracelet and choker completed the ensemble. Lara
smiled as she thought she spotted a touch of drool.
"God DAMN!" The Arkansas native exclaimed. "Ain't you a picture!"
"Why, thank you." Lara walked up the stairs and put two fingers under his chin, gently pressing his
mouth closed. "You're attracting flies, by the way."
Lara walked in and saw about a dozen guests, each representing a different branch from the archeology
field, as well as a number of burly men dressed in tuxedos with sunglasses, discretely touching their
earpieces while glancing around. Security. Pierre wanted to make sure that nobody had the brilliant idea
of trying to rob him. 'Too bad, mon ami. I AM going to steal that mask back.' Lara saw Pierre talking to
a couple of Japanese businessmen, his trim athletic figure sporting an elegant tuxedo, his luxurious dark
hair slicked back in a pompadeour. The Frenchman turned his head, spying the Tomb Raider, and excused
himself, a playful yet lupine smile on his handsome Jean Reno-like features.
"Lady Croft. Bon sois," he greeted, planting a gracious kiss on her hand. "It is indeed an honor for you to
attend my humble little soiree. I am pleasantly surprised and deeply privileged."
"The privilege is mine, Pierre," Lara replied sweetly while laughing uncontrollably on the inside. "After all,
the world is graced with such a fine dedicated archeologist such as yourself."
"You flatter me, Madamoiselle."
"And the Dagger of Quan Cho? An abosulue coup. So tell me. How much do you think you can get for it or
do you plan to keep it for yourself?"
Pierre thumped his fist sideways against his chest, as if stabbed and fixed his features in a mask of mock
hurt.
"You wound me!"
"Really?"
"Oui. Some things have no price. The mask is going into my private collection where it belongs. Now I
believe it is time to dine. I shall then debut the dagger for your viewing pleasure."
"I look forward to it," Lara cooed. 'As well as stealing it.'
Pierre called the guests to dinner and led them to the luxurious dining room. Dinner was an absolute
feast of the best of French and Italian cuisine. Lara noticed that there were fourteen diners in all, six
on each side and one on each end. Larson sat opposite the Tomb Raider and Pierre sat at the head
immediately on her right. A thought crossed her mind as she discretely leaned down and undid her
sandal. The French archeologist/mercenary was telling a story about his first job with Natla
Technologies when he felt something rub against his instep and slowly, almost teasingly, glide up
and down his leg. He glanced down and saw the culprit was a shapely bare foot. Pierre subtly glanced
at Lara talking to an Oriental woman sitting next to her. Ocassionally, she would steal a look to
Pierre out of the corner of her eye, a small, playful smile on her full scarlet lips. 'So. Madamoiselle
Croft likes to play games. Very well. We will play games.' He leaned over to Lara who did the same.
"Are you trying to seduce me, cheri?" Pierre asked softly.
"Perhaps," the Tomb Raider replied. "Is it working?"
The Frenchman chuckled. The woman had chutzpah.
"As amusing as the footplay is, if you are expecting me to simply hand the dagger over to you, then I
am afraid that you will have to be disappointed. The dagger is not for sale or negotiation."
"I have other means of persuasion, but I don't wish to come across as an impolite guest."
"Well," Pierre's smile widened. "Perhaps you could come to my boudoir later and show me exactly how
impolite you were thinking of being."
Lara playfully tilted her head to one side and put a finger next to her mouth as if thinking.
"Tempting, but I have to take a redeye to New York for a lecture tommorrow, so I'm afraid I'll have to
take a rain check. Je souis desole, mon ami."
"C'est la vie. I will hold you to that, mon cheri."
The dinner finished and Pierre led the party upstairs to the trophy room. The group entered and in the center
of the room, on a marble pedestal surrounded by a retangular glass display case was the Dagger of Quan Cho.
Lara casually glanced around the room, mentally counting the hidden cameras. She also guessed there were laser
beams and pressure pads that triggered the alarms, cameras around the property, patrols at regualr intervals
and a command center for it all most likely. 'Good. My kind of fun.' Jean was bored. He was patrolling the grounds
for three hours and nothing was going on. 'Who'd be stupid enough to try and steal from DuPont?' He stopped at the
vent to light a cigarette, unaware that a shadowy figure stole across the lawn and slithered up behind him,
quietly incapacitating him with a Marine chokehold and dragging his form into the bushes. The figure then
climbed into the vent and up through the system until she reached the control room. Lara climbed out and walked
over to the controls, her figure encased in a sleek black leather catsuit. She shut off the alarms, laser and cameras,
as well as the lines to the local police station.
"Now," she smiled. "Let's see Pierre try and stop me."
The door opened and the watchman in charge of security entered and stopped. He stared at the catsuit-clad
woman whose eyes were covered by sleek red nightvision goggles. She smiled sweetly as she glided over in a
playful, almost predatory way.
"Excu je. Ou est la salle de bains?" 'Excuse me. Where is the bathroom?"
Before the watchman could answer, Lara whipped out her tranquilizer gun and fired, the sedative working
immediately as the man collapsed to the floor silently. The Tomb Raider left the room and made her way to
the trophy room, incapacitaing each guard she ran into with the tranquilizer gun. She entered the trophy room
and immediately saw green laser criss-crossing up to the case. 'Must be on a different system it seems.' Lara
executed a flawless, sensual gymnastics routine as to make Catherine Zeta Jones jealous until she reached the
display case where she took a glass cutter and gently cut a very large circle in the glass. She then reached in and
took the dagger, replacing it was wooden Carnival mask. She then repeated the gymnastics routine back across
the floor until she got to the door and left, only to run into Larson, who had a gun pointed at her.
"Going somewhere, kitten?" he queried amused.
"As a matter of fact," Lara smiled. "I was looking for the little girl's room. You wouldn't happen to know where
it is, would you?"
"Now, darling. I ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer, I know that. But I sure as hell ain't no moron."
"Oh, heaven forbid."
"So, what do you say you come with me to Pierre and all three of us can have a friendly little powwow?"
"Oh, no. It's late and I'm sure that Pierre needs his beauty sleep. We can talk to him in th morning."
"No, I think he'll want to talk to you, especially with you trying to lift his mask and all."
Lara fumed. 'HIS mask?! That arrogant little French wanker stole it from me!' Suddenly, her lips curved into
an evil, seductive smile.
"Well, since we are going to see him, and God knows he won't be very happy, why don't you kiss me?"
Larson's eyebrows arched ceilingward. This was too good to be true.
"I'm sorry. What was that?"
"Kiss me. On the lips."
"Well, DAMN! Don't I always get the best jobs!"
"Capital. Now, just let me--" Lara took out a tube of scarlet lipstick and rubbed it on her lips. "Okay, I'm
ready. Pucker up, Big Boy."
Larson put his lips against the Tomb Raider's and pressed, electricity tingling throughout his body. Suddenly,
he felt groggy as his consciousness left and darkness rose. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as the
sedative in the lipstick took and sent him into Dreamland. Lara gently lowered Larson to the floor, kneeling
next to him and patting his forehead.
"Semper Fi, Marine," she mockingly cooed. "Plesant dreams."
Lara ran out of the estate and into the bushes where she hid her motorcycle. She mounted and tore out of
there, laughing cruelly in triumph. She did it! Pierre DuPont was going to be so furious when he awoke the
next time. 'That'll teach him to mess with Lara Croft!'
THE END
ta-daa! hope we like. the sleeping lipstick idea came from a 90's cartoon. BTW, there is this site KTEB
and it has a fan fiction section. I wrote a few stories there and would appreciate some feedback. please?
thank you and enjoy the tale and more are on the way.
Good luck in your new bed. Enjoy your nightmares, son, while you're resting your
head--BASEMENT JAXX
peace and a tale
