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Come Hell or High Water	By : Khaleesi-Of-Dragons Category: +S through Z > Tomb Raider (all) > Tomb Raider (all) Views: 5871 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tomb Raider, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Any and all songs used belong to their respective owners.

Chapter List
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Something was under AJ's head, of that she was certain of, though she had no clue what it could be. Whatever it was, it was warm and the steady thump-thump sound it made was already lulling her into a half-awake state again. She didn't get much sleep last night and she was so desperately tired that whatever warm thing she was laying on had better just be still and let her sleep a little longer. The thing shifts again, beginning to make noises now. Just her luck, just as she was ready to go to sleep again, her warm thingy decides to wake up. Wait….What? She raises her head, looking at her thingy through half-lidded eyes, some of her red hair hanging in her face. Terry smiles up at her, a smug little smile that she wanted to remove—preferably with a scalpel, but she supposed she'd have to improvise. "Morning, sleeping beauty."
Moving quickly, she adjusts so that she's lying beside Terry on the couch before promptly pushing hard enough on his chest to send him falling to the floor. Now the smug grin was on her face. That made her feel better even if only slightly. She walks into the bathroom, grabbing a bottle of body wash before climbing into the bathtub, making sure that the water filling it would be warm before sinking down and letting the jets work miracles on her sore muscles. She lets out a groan, releasing her thick hair from the chignon and let it float on the water—the dark red standing out against the white of the tub. With her eyes closed, she didn't see Terry walk inside, dressed only in a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips. "You're not allowed in my bathtub," she informs him without even opening her eyes. He wasn't as silent as he thought he was.
"Wasn't planning on it." She can hear the glass door of the shower open and close, then the sound of the shower starting. She wondered if he would be taking a cold shower or not as she began to wash her hair. Judging by the tent in the front of those sweats that poked her earlier, she could almost bet that the water was ice cold. With her hair thoroughly rinsed, she makes quick work of washing her body and shaving her legs. The shower turns off and Terry steps out again, wrapping one of her fluffy, dark red towels around his waist and using a second to dry his upper body. AJ cocks her head to the side, studying him. His dark brown hair is cut close to his head, but no less soft; his body is firm and muscled, he'd obviously worked out in that prison he was incarcerated in; his eyes though, they were what really drew AJ in, they were a curious mix of green, grey, and blue that would change depending on his mood. She loved them even if she didn't love the man they were attached to—as her granny would say, he had bedroom eyes and hot damn were they effective. His Scottish accent was a bonus, the gravely sound pleasing to her ears. "Enjoying the view, Lexi?"
The nickname had AJ throwing a bar of soap at his head, narrowly missing when he jerked out of the way. "Don't call me that," she snarls, wrapping a towel around her torso and storming out of the bathroom and into her bedroom just next door. Her bedroom was the largest room in the house, painted a lavender color with white molding and carpeting. The walls were covered with pieces of paper and sticky notes filled with drawings she had done when she was bored. There wasn't much furniture, but there were plenty of windows. The large four poster bed set on a dais on the far wall with her walk-in closet just beside it for convenience. There were French doors opposite the bed, they opened out to a small balcony with an iron set of stairs that went down to the garden. She was proud of this room, it was hers to do with as she pleased. Sitting on the nightstand beside her bed was a photo that she quickly hid in the nightstand drawer. She didn't want to chance Terry finding out she had kept the picture of their wedding day—the photographer had snapped it right as Terry's lips had connected with hers.
With the picture hidden, she walks into the closet, flipping on the overhead light as she went. The closet was divided up neatly, shirts in the first section—she grabs a black tank top from it that had C'est la Vie in white letters on the front—the lingerie and underwear came next and she grabbed a bra and panties, next was dresses, then shorts. The closet ended with a large mirror with shoes on the either side of it. She dresses quickly, the purple and black short-shorts fitting snugly and the black top loose enough to be modest, but not so modest that it wouldn't make Terry watch her. Once dressed she picks out a pair of black combat boots with navy colored ties. She looks in the mirror, carefully applying foundation and concealer before forcing a brush through her tangled hair. To make sure that her hair would stay out of her face, she secures it into a French twist using several bobby pins.
Happy with her appearance, she heads downstairs to the kitchen where the other two had already gathered. Lara sits at the kitchen table, sipping on a cup of coffee while Terry made himself at home on her counter. She glowers at him, making a beeline for the fridge and the caffeine she knew that waited inside. "Why don't you have any food," Terry questions, raising an eyebrow. She opened the refrigerator, finding that she did have food, but it looked as though it had been there for a while longer than it needed to. There was a bottle of mustard in the back, a bowl of what she assumed was spaghetti, a two liter of Mountain Dew, and a couple of bottles of alcohol.
"I don't eat here normally," AJ shrugs, pulling the two liter out and taking a long drink from it to help wake her up. "Normally I'll order pizza or Chinese, the delivery boys are surprisingly fast. Hard to know why, I'm always dressed when I answer the door." Lara shakes her head in amusement, working on putting small braids in her hair. AJ shrugs again, sitting down beside her friend and propping her feet up on the kitchen table.
"Now, if I would have done that you'd break my ankle," Terry points out.
"Did you pay for this table?" He shakes his head. "I'll tell you what then, when you buy me a table as nice as this one I'll let you put your feet up on it."
"I bought you those heels you were wearing yesterday, what'd I get for those?"
"I didn't castrate you in your sleep, isn't that enough?" Lara raises a brow at the exchange. Clearly there was some story there and it had to be interesting to get Terry to buy shoes that cost around the price of a new pistol. AJ notices the curious look and explains. "I came home expecting to find him sick in bed, and he was in bed, but he wasn't alone and he definitely wasn't sick. He was pile driving a girl that couldn't be any older than twenty and, well, they were both sorry afterwards."
"Yeah, Blondie was thrown through a window and lucky to survive while I lost four hundred bucks on a pair of shoes she only wore twice."
"Thrice, darling, I wore them yesterday."
"Speaking of yesterday, why the hell were you walking around naked?" AJ gives a dramatic sigh, throwing her head back.
"What's the point of owning a house if I can't walk around naked every now and then?" Terry had to give it to her, she had a point. "Now, if you're both quite finished I believe you came here for a lift." She stands, walking over to a door that leads to a patio and beyond that there is a trail leading to a huge red barn. "Come along, children, I have a new toy I think you'll both find to your liking." She laughs, taking the lead. The barn is as large as it first appeared, the floor scattered with hay and papers. In the middle is a silver pod that Terry and Lara would need to get into China.
"This is what you meant by a little faster," Terry questions.
"Oh yes, only the best for us," Lara smiles. "I do hope it'll sit three people." AJ stares at her for a moment, her eyes narrowed in realization. "Don't argue, it's for your own protection. MI6 wants you to tag along before Reiss can send men to your house and have you killed." Is dealing with Terry supposed to be the better alternative, AJ wonders, looking her ex up and down. Terry shifts under her scrutiny, feeling uncomfortable. She notices that he is actually dressed now, wearing jeans, a grey T-shirt, a leather jacket and boots. Not bad if he was trying to bring the grunge look back. "If you survive, you'll get a new home and identity; more money for helping me." AJ groans, stomping over to a small desk and grabbing a gun holster that would go on her thigh, it held her favorite pistol of her entire collection, a small Walther P22. When that was strapped on, she grabs another holster, this one for the hunting knife her father gave her when she was twelve. It was large and sharp, and he knew from experience that it could slice a man open without a problem.
"Fine," she frowns, turning to face them and hooking the knife holster to her shorts," but I'm packing my shit first."
~Ten Minutes Later...
"Come on," Terry yells from the doorway of AJ's room," we should've been gone by now!" She throws him a glare over her shoulder, tossing another shirt into her suitcase before going back over to the closet for some more. "Jesus Christ, it's like she's packing to go on vacation or something."
"I heard that," she shouts, rolling her eyes. When she comes back out of the closet with an armful of shoes, Terry gives her a withering glare of his own, turning on his heel to go sit on the couch. "Don't act like you wouldn't try to take shit with you too. Greedy bastard," she grumbles under her breath, carefully arranging the shoes in the suitcase before snapping it shut. She would have to come back for the rest of her stuff later if her home was still standing. She frowns, shooting a look at Terry to make sure he wasn't paying attention before tiptoeing over to her dresser with a backpack in hand—inside she slips another pistol and some magazines, her gloves, and the wedding picture. Satisfied, she turns only to pause with a strange sight in front of her.
"Pals of yours?" Terry kneels in the middle of her room, fingers interlaced behind his head with a large man standing beside him, a pistol in hand. Beside him is a slighter man who is no less intimidating, especially with an AK-47 in his grasp. AJ flounders for a few seconds, holding the backpack tightly to her chest. "I thought you were through with all that dangerous shit."
"Well, you know how it is."
"Kneel," the slighter man demands, his Russian accent thick and easily recognizable. Guns for hire by the looks of them, fancy ones too. They are both clothed in black suits, the kind of name brand that you only see in high-cost gangster movies. These are the types of guys that feed other guys to the fishes, but lucky for Terry and AJ, the men hadn't found Lara yet. The slight man moves quickly, striking out with the butt of the rifle and forcing her onto her knees across from Terry. Hazel meets dark green, the pair communicating the way they did when they still worked together. Terry's eyes cut to the man behind her quickly, meeting hers again a split second later. She gives him a slight nod, shifting almost imperceptibly as he did the same. "Mister Reiss sends his regards."
"What is this," AJ asks with a laugh," Game of Thrones? I hate to break it to you, Comrade, but that only works in fiction." The Russian strikes again with the rifle, sending AJ to the ground and starting a chain reaction. She had her foot coming up before she hit the ground, kicking the side of his leg with all the force she could at the awkward angle. Terry brings his head back sharply so the bigger man couldn't react, the man collapsing in pain and clutching at his groin. Moving quickly, Terry helps AJ up and pulls her .22 out of its holster, sending bullet flying into chests of both men before practically dragging AJ downstairs. "Where's Lara when you need her?!"
They had just reached the parlor when the Russians ran in after them, guns firing and forcing them into a side closet. "Each AK-47 has thirty rounds."
"And that .357 the big guy's firing only has six." AJ and Terry stay pressed against the wall beside the door, the bullets doing less damage there than in other places. "You think I pissed that one guy off when I called him Comrade?" Terry chuckles breathlessly, leaning his head against the wall.
"Little bit." When the firing finally stops, Terry kicks the door open and dives against the big guy, both of them falling to the ground in a struggle. AJ waits for the little one to enter the closet, grabbing the AK out of his hands and using it as a bat to hit him in the face with it.
"Doesn't feel too god, does it, bitch?" She brings it down again, this time connecting with his throat. Spitting blood out of her mouth, she tosses the gun to the ground and slings her pack over her shoulder and withdrawing her knife from its sheath on her hip. "Keep him steady." Terry does just that, sitting on the big guy's chest and pinning his arms to the ground above his head. "You see this knife? My daddy taught me how to use it when I was twelve years old and brought down my first Buck, he was a loving man and one of the best spies of his generation. He taught me a trick or two, you wanna see?" The big glares at her, shouting something in Russian that she assumed was something along the lines of go fuck yourself. "Don't be like that, big man, it's not attractive." He opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is some blood because at that exact moment she'd rammed her knife in his throat.
Lara walks in moments later, raising an eyebrow at the messy scene. "Where the hell were you?"
"I was getting everything ready, a plane should be here soon to pick us up. Did I miss something?"
"Fucking Russians," is all AJ says, wiping her knife off on the big guy's shirt before returning it and her pistol to their respective places.
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Come Hell or High Water