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The Treasure at Home	By : abra Category: S through Z > Tomb Raider Views: 12615 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tomb Raider, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The treasure at home
Author: Abra de Winter
Beta: ducky and symbimorph - Thank you!
Disclaimer:The characters Lara and Hillary do not belong to me. I took them from the movies "Lara Croft: Tomb Raider" and "Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life", produced by British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), Eidos Interactive Ltd., KFP Produktions GmbH & Co. KG and several other companies. No money are being made from this story. I am terribly sorry it took so damn long towrite this chapter.
Rating: NC17
Chapter V – Darkness
Bryce and Hillary tracked Lara's progress through the ruins of the temple for several hours. They were getting worried. The cell phones were out of range, so if Lara were hurt, it was going to take a while to get help. They found her tools scattered around; apparently, she had been fascinated by the writings on the walls. She had obviously ignored the fragility of the ancient construction. The hieroglyphs meant nothing to Hillary, and he cursed under his breath when he saw Lara's rucksack by the camera she had set on a tripod in front of a wall covered in the ancient Egyptian writings. He was picking it up when he heard Bryce calling him. He hurried toward the worried voice with the backpack still in his hand.
"She couldn’t have just fallen…" Bryce said, looking at the collapsed tiles.
"No. No, she couldn’t," Hillary agreed, perfectly aware of Lara's agility.
"Maybe she was distracted," Bryce added.
"There are no signs of a struggle, so she wasn’t taken away. She didn’t leave, because her gear is still here. She's probably down there, somewhere," said Hillary.
"Yeah. She probably found something cool there and she didn’t want to come back up until she studied it," Bryce said, in a hopeful tone.
"I'm going after her," Hillary stated simply.
Bryce opened his mouth to say something. He closed it again. This was no time to pretend he was in better shape than Hillary. They set up a makeshift pulley by the edge of the crevice. Hillary tied the rope around his waist and a flashlight around his neck, and made his way down into the darkness below. He noticed with mild surprise that his hands were not shaking. He was climbing down the wall of a cave with the same self confidence as if he were in Croft Manor, on the training wall, and there was a mattress waiting for him at the bottom. As soon as he reached the base, Hillary started inspecting the area. It didn’t take long to locate Lara's limp body under some fallen rocks.
"I found her," he yelled to Bryce, kneeling next to her and tossing the rocks off her.
"How is she?" came the strangled voice from above.
"She's breathing," he said, watching Lara's chest rise and descend regularly in the ray of light that trembled along with Hillary's shaking hand.
"She's unconscious," he added. "She might have some broken bones," he told Bryce while searching her with his hands for any wounds. "Send down all the provisions and go get help!"
"Wake her up, Hillary! I'm not leaving until I hear her voice."
"I can't!" the man yelled, shaking Lara frantically.
He heard the packages arrive down and went to get the first aid kit. When he looked up, he could see the young man's alarmed expression. He hid his own fear and tried to reassure Bryce.
"She seems to have a lot of scratches, but no deep cuts. I'm afraid she has hit her head. She's breathing OK, as if she's asleep, but I couldn’t wake her. I'll do the best I can, but you have to go into town and get an ambulance."
Hillary realized that this could scare Bryce even worse, but he hoped that his apparent calm would do the trick and reassure him. He watched Bryce freezing with the same panic he was fighting himself.
"Go!" he ordered.
He heard Bryce's rapidly fading steps when he returned to Lara. He opened the thermos and dripped some iced tea on her lips.
"Come on, Lara! Wake up. Please," he begged.
Her eyelids fluttered. Her body became aware of the pain before her mind returned to reality. Her features contorted in a grimace of pain. She tried to sit up, but she slunk back.
"Don’t try to move. Where does it hurt?"
She didn’t answer for a while. She squinted at him in the dim light.
"Hillary?"
She reached to touch his face. Her fingers instinctively looked for the scar on his jaw. As soon as she touched it, she seemed to regain control. Her voice sounded sharp in the rustling air.
"What are you doing here?" He was taken aback.
"Lady Croft, how are you feeling?" he asked, even more worried than before.
"I am perfectly all right," she lied, ignoring the throbbing pain in her shoulder.
"Why are you here? I didn’t need your help."
"I'll leave as soon as we get back to Cairo," Hillary said, confused.
"Yes. You do that," she said, trying to sit up again. She winced, despite her attempt to hide the pain.
"It's your shoulder, isn’t it?" he asked, looking carefully at her posture. He knew her body well enough to see beyond her pretence. "It's dislocated," he guessed, and put his hands on it, without waiting for confirmation.
Lara let out a scream when Hillary pushed her shoulder back into place, without any hesitation. "Thanks." She had spat the word out, like an insult. Hillary knew better than rising to the challenge. He busied himself rummaging through her backpack for some clothes. Lara's usual skimpy outfit was not very appropriate for laying on stone slabs in a drafty corridor. She was sliding back down, and Hillary realised she was falling asleep.
"You're welcome," he said loudly.
Lara jerked awake.
"I didn’t need your help," she said.
"No, lady Croft," he said in a meek tone that was meant to annoy her
. "I'm not saying I didn’t need any help."
"Just not mine," he said, aware of the flicker of defiance in her eyes, even if he could not see it.
"You don’t work for me anymore, Mr. Hillary. There was no cause for you to come here."
"I did not quit being your friend," he said, winding her up as best he could, desperately needing her to stay awake.
"The point is that you are no help. You didn’t rescue me. You just got yourself stuck here with me."
Hillary looked at the blurred shape of Lara Croft. She was trying to hurt him. Could she actually have hard feelings about him quitting? He couldn’t be important enough for her to cause such lingering resentment. He tried to guess the truth.
"No," he said. "The point is that none of your superhero lovers came to your rescue. Not one of the men you've fascinated over the years is here for you. The point is that at the end of the day you've always had me to pick up the pieces."
"Don’t be melodramatic!" she snapped. "I would've gotten out of here all by myself."
"I do not doubt it. I was just looking for an explanation for your anger."
"I am NOT angry. I am disgusted. That someone like you could think he could help me."
Her voice was trembling with rage, and Hillary could not remember a time when he heard her like that. Lara Croft was the embodiment of self control. She used irony, sarcasm, and ultimately a punch in the face, but she was never, ever angry. He could not stand that note in her voice any longer. She was still talking, but Hillary had lost the ability to understand the words. The anger grated his ears.
"Shut up," he said.
"How dare you…" she began an outraged tirade.
He had to stop that sound. He could not live in a world where Lady Lara Croft let anybody see her anger or fear. He groped through the darkness to find her face.
"What the hell…" she managed to say before he crushed her lips in an untidy, hungry kiss.
She tried to fend him off, but Hillary was in no mood to act like a gentleman. He lightly, but purposely, hit her left ankle. He knew how the pain must have shot through her body, but there was no room for kindness anymore. When she gasped, he shoved his tongue in her mouth. She was still trying to push him away when Hillary rolled her onto the hard floor of the passage. He pinned her to the jagged stone lowering his body over hers. Lara stopped fighting him. Her fists were no longer pushing him away. He felt her fingers dig into his shoulders as her anger subsided, and she was pulling him closer. She was trying to say something. He moved his mouth away from hers. His tongue was tracing a pulsating vein on her neck when he heard the ragged whisper.
"Fuck me, Hillary."
"Yes, m'lady."
He felt Lara's hands struggling to unbutton her pants. He rolled off her and sneaked his hand beneath her tank top to play with her breasts until she lifted her back off the ground. He helped her slide the pants all the way down. He freed her right leg, and left the pants around her injured left ankle. He caressed Lara's right thigh as he raised her leg all the way up. He propped her ankle on his shoulder and undid his trousers. He rubbed himself hard in a few jerky movements, and positioned himself at her entrance after a moment of exploratory groping in the dark.
'Thank God she's so wet,' Hillary thought, making his way inside her with difficulty. He had almost forgotten how tight she was. The memories of their few times together were coming back along with the wild sensations of the hot present. His hardened cock was deliciously squeezed by the hot, velvety sheath. He plunged deeper inside her, accompanied by Lara's whimpering.
"Mmmm. Oh, Hilary, yes. Yes. YES! YEEEES!"
The crescendo of her moans was the result of Hillary's impatient thrusting. A tiny part of his mind was aware that Bryce might come back any minute and the last thing they needed was to get caught. Lara was frantically caressing his chest, as much as she could reach. Hillary grabbed one of her hands and started licking her fingers. He felt Lara shudder when he took them one by one in his mouth. When he sucked insistently at her middle finger Lara's whimpers and the contracting walls of her womanhood nearly sent him over the edge. He stopped and heard her disappointed sigh when he took it out of his mouth. He didn’t let go of her hand, but led it between her legs, and made her touch herself. She got the idea and began to rub small circles around her swollen flesh. He felt his climax getting closer with every thrust. He used all the discipline he had left to wait for the tell-tale shudders of Lara's orgasm before he let go. As soon as she contracted wildly, almost painfully around him, screaming his name, Hillary pumped as hard and as fast as he needed. "Oh, Lara!" he growled when he exploded in her depths.
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The Treasure at Home