* Author's Note: Wow, I haven't updated in over 8 years. Well, I graduated from UF, moved to Japan for 2 years, and I've been back in the U.S. for 4.5 years now. I write for a living. And I'm engaged! Woo! Anyway, I always say I'll finish every story I've started on here, and I plan to keep that promise. Here's the next chapter. It's really late here, so I've only done a casual run-through for typos. Sorry if I've missed anything. I hope you enjoy it.

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Lara's body lay motionless, rigid, her eyelids stretched open in horror. The Tomb Raider had fought countless battles against the odds and had always – though often very narrowly – cheated death. But try as she might, she had found no way out of this one. Not this time.

A gust of cold air surged along her body. So this is what it felt like to die. She could still see John running toward her, caught in the momentum of his mad dash to save her. He would be too late.

A flutter of sound passed her left ear. Were her senses shutting down? Was she already dead, and these were the last chemical and electrical impulses draining from her body? She had lived a good life, she thought. A life full of adventure and no compromise. A legacy to be proud of. Now if only she could shut her eyes…

Lara felt the unmistakable urge to blink, the dryness of eyes forced open too long. It was then she realized she could still see John moving toward her. In fact, he was already beside her, crouching, both arms outstretched beneath her. He looked at something in the direction of the balcony and nodded. Then Lara fell.

John caught her easily and pulled her into a hug. Lara flinched as if waking suddenly from a dream. She was moving. Alive. But how?

"Lara, are you okay?" she heard above her.

She blinked, breathed, then nodded. "I'm okay. What happened?"

"Benefits of the parents never letting you leave home alone," he said, smiling. He helped her get back on her feet, and they both turned their attention toward the newly arrived party guests.

"Not a second too soon," said Scott, approaching the Tomb Raider and Pyro. "Sorry if we scared you, Lara. Jean made a split-second call, and I'm glad she did. We'd barely just gotten the X-Jet hidden when Jean said there was trouble."

"I will be sure to thank her, Scott. Thank you." Scott nodded and abruptly hopped over the balcony, where Lara was certain the X-Jet was hovering in stealth mode. She looked around quickly. "Where is Mystique?"

"Don't worry," a gruff voice answered, "Jean hauled her back to the Blackbird. We're caging her up and throwing away the goddamn key." Lara's eyes found Logan appearing from beneath the balcony this time, hurtling the immaculately whittled white marble banister with ease. "Hey, kid," he gestured to Pyro, "mission debrief. Get to the jet."

"You got it, Logan." With that, Lara's faux fiancé disappeared, leaving her alone with the Wolverine.

"Hey," he said, more gently than before. "You okay?"

Lara hesitated. "I'm… fine," she said. "Mission accomplished, right?" She smiled tightly at him, but her lips fell as quickly as they had risen. "Come, let's get out of here."

Logan furrowed his brow at her briefly but said nothing. He had been there, and he knew better.

The Blackbird landed softly on the Croft Manor grounds not long after, and the four X-Men and Tomb Raider made the trek back to the manor proper, Mystique floating fluidly behind Jean.

"What are we going to do with her?" the telepath asked as they entered the foyer. "If we were at the mansion, we'd have a proper holding cell for her, but…"

"I've a place you can put her," interrupted Lara, darkly. "Come with me." The X-Men shared furtive, timid looks with one another but followed their host across the foyer, past Bryce's tech room, and through an adjacent door that led to a long hallway. At the end of it was another unassuming door, which led to a staircase. At the foot off that staircase sat a solitary metal door. Lara placed her hand on a biometric scanner to the right of it then flitted her fingers in an enigmatic code across the blank, digit-less screen. The door swung open and they entered, taking in their surroundings silently.

To the left was a wall that appeared to be made of glass, transparent, for all intents and purposes, and very thick. On closer inspection, one could tell the glass wall actually formed a complete cube inside the room, which itself was composed of steel.

Lara turned to the right side of the room, toward another scanner. As before, her fingers slid and pecked at the empty screen with practiced speed. In response, a hatch in the floor opened, revealing a horizontal box large enough for a single person.

"You can set her in there," said Lara. Jean focused on their blue captive's body and lowered her into the box. The faint sound of hydraulics hissed, the hatch slammed shut, and within moments, Mystique appeared in the glass cube. Her knees shuddered as she lifted herself out of the box in the floor. As Lara had discovered earlier, being forcefully suspended took a toll on the body like she had never experienced. When Mystique had fully rolled out of the box, with a little assistance from Jean, the hatch slid shut.

"Okay, what?" asked John. The rest of the X-Men turned to Lara with the same question in their eyes.

"Palladium glass," said the Tomb Raider, flatly. "Stronger, and tougher, than steel. She won't be going anywhere."

"How many times have I heard that?" laughed the blue mutant, catching her breath. Her yellow eyes pierced the gloom of the steel room. "I won't be in here for long, Croft. And when I get out, I'm going to finish breaking that pretty neck."

Lara shoved past Scott and Logan and charged up to the glass cube. "Listen to me carefully, bitch," she hissed. "If it were up to me, you'd have a bullet in your skull right now. And since you're in my house, I'm still mulling over the possibility. Also, do keep in mind your air supply is connected to a tertiary system that I can shut off on a whim. I would love to watch you suffocate right now."

Mystique's eyes glittered. Her lips curled into a slow, toothy smile. "You are hanging with the wrong crowd, my dear."

"Lara, come on," said Logan, carefully. "She'll antagonize you until you're as blue as she is. Let's head back up."

"Of course," said Lara. "But first…" She made her way back to the panel on the opposite end of the room. After a few keystrokes, the room collapsed into darkness, save for the light of the stairway back to the manor's main floor. After everyone had exited, Lara pressed the vault-like door back to its magnetic locking mechanism, and Mystique was alone.

"Should we have… searched her… or something?" asked Scott as the group emerged into the foyer once again.

"Uh, where?" scoffed John.

Scott blushed. "I don't know…"

"Even if she has a communication device," Lara interjected, "she won't get a signal down there. That room is meant to be an isolation chamber."

"Yeah, about that room. I guess it could have been creepier, but it was definitely up there. Why do you have a super expensive prison box down there?" John's voice raised a pitch as he asked. He thought he knew what kind of woman Lara Croft was, and he hadn't pegged her for a sadistic jailor.

"It has many uses," she answered. "Like I said, it's an isolation room. It doesn't have to be a prison."

"Riiiiiight."

"Lara, you're sure it's safe to leave her unguarded?" Jean asked. "I mean, I saw how complex the setup was, but…"

"She's a worrier," finished Scott.

Lara gave an understanding half-smile. "If you want to check up on her, you can use the tech room. Bryce will be more than happy to show you how. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to change into something more breathable." Pausing more out of politeness than expecting an answer, Lara waited just a tick before turning from her companions and heading up the main staircase.

"Is there something wrong with Lara?" asked Scott when Lara was out of sight. "She seems…"

"Angry," said Logan. His teammates all looked at him in unison.

John's brows clenched together in confusion. "But we completed the mission. All of the representatives are bugged, and we even caught Mystique as a bonus. What's she mad about?"

Logan's eyes floated away from where Lara had disappeared and rejoined his teammates. "It's not something that many people understand," he said simply. And with that, he too headed up the staircase and left the X-Men whispering behind him.

An hour had passed, and the ground level of the manor was bustling with activity. All of the X-Men had gathered for a full mission debrief and to plan their next move. Only the Wolverine was missing. Lara had not been seen since she had gone to change, and Logan had a very good idea why. He had found Hillary and asked where Lara's room was, and, after a moment of hard contemplation, Hillary gave the mutant the information he desired and watched the gruff man stalk off in the direction he had indicated.

"A good butler doesn't assume. A good butler doesn't assume," Hillary sang to himself and hustled down the opposite end of the hallway to find something to dust.

Three muffled knocks on her bedroom door broke Lara's concentration on the decorative pillow she had been pulling loose threads from for, how long, she couldn't say. She cast the ruined thing aside and made her way to the door.

"Oh, Logan. Hello."

"Hey."

Lara pressed her lips together and rocked on the balls of her feet. "Do you… need something?"

Logan gestured toward the open door. "May I?"

"Oh, yes. Sure."

Logan strode into her bedroom and roved his eyes along the empty walls and expensive furniture. "Not very homey in here, is it?"

"I'm not home much," admitted Lara, joining him in the middle of the room. "You should see the rooms we don't use." A deafening silence settled around them. "So you… had something you wanted to talk about?"

Lara almost couldn't help but smile at the man before her – tough, rough, capable, unadorned Logan. But he was nervous now, and it was sort of adorable.

He cleared his throat. "Listen, I'm not good at things like this, but I think I know what's bothering you. And if you want to talk about it," his brown eyes met hers, "I'm here."

"Well, that's very sweet, Logan, but I'm perfectly – "

"You accepted death. And it's bothering you now that you're alive. I've been there a thousand times, but nothing hurts more than the first time it happens. I know."

Her eyes and mouth rounded in surprise, staring at Logan as though he could read her mind. But he had put her jumble of feelings into so few words, spoken them so plainly. Could it be he understood more than she knew? She opened her mouth to speak, but he had taken the words from her. She backed up toward the bed and sat down on a cushioned bench at its foot.

"I'm veritably at a loss for words, Logan," came her quiet reply.

He sat down next to her on the bench, turning his knees toward her so he could look at her more easily. She had taken her long, brown hair from its fancy up-do and let it fall naturally, with just one side tucked behind her ear. A few stray pieces fell over her forehead and across her eyes. She had discarded the midnight blue evening gown and now sat regally in a pair of black athletic pants and a loose, white tank top. Her posture, even when dejected, was lightyears ahead of his.

"I've lived a long time," he began, "longer than anyone should, maybe. I've held people I've loved in my arms while they died, aware of my own healing factor the entire time they're bleeding out. I've wanted to die so many times, but the first time I thought I would but didn't… shit. I wondered if I had a death wish. If my time had come and gone and would just keep looping back around like some sick cycle, tormenting me for eternity. I don't wanna get too long-winded. My point is that being at peace with dying doesn't mean you want to die. And it sure as hell doesn't mean there's no fight left in you. Shit, during the war…"

"Which one?"

"The first one."

"The first…"

"World War."

Lara's eyes bulged. "I'm sorry, you were alive during World War I?"

"Been around longer than that. I'm a living relic, sweetheart."

"Fascinating."

"Not sure I like that look," Logan said nervously. "Are you going to study me?"

"You're a relic, as you said. That's sort of my speciality." Lara gave him a soft smile, a genuine one this time.

The Wolverine grinned back at her, leaning in closer. "Tomb Raider, the shit I could tell you…"