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Penelope was angry. Lara had been her friend during school when she had long braids. Lara had been so nice and so kind to her. Then, she had to get with Sam, that damn Korean-American girl. She knew that Lara had denied the relationship rumors, but she had done her own investigation. She knew they were true. She didn't mind that Lara had repatriated her artifacts and essentially stripped herself of the rights to be the heiress of the Croft family. She had even changed her former family mansion into public housing with the help of the local government. What made her angry was Lara had forgotten about her. In reality, she'd lost touch with her, after all that had happened. In fact, she thought that Penelope was gone for good. She'd tried searching for her, but never found her anywhere, and gave up. She assumed that Penelope, who'd previously been known as Penny, had somehow been killed.
Penelope would make Lara pay for forgetting about her, for not even trying to rekindle their friendship. She'd grown more furious and bitter over the years. She had met Fig in her desert headquarters. She looked into her grey eyes, saying she knew how to "handle" Lara. Fig didn't know what this woman meant. As a fierce fighter with her own motivations, she didn't want to be toyed with again. Even so, she followed this woman's every word. After all, she had accurately predicted that Mila would fail. In fact, Penelope was toying with her. She used her feminine wiles, and looks, including her beautiful and striking brown skin, to make sure that this muscled woman would be on her side.
It had been several months since then. She opened her phone and clicked a contact named "Cute Argentinian." It began ringing. The woman on the other side had heard from her a lot in recent months. She still wasn't entirely sure that Penelope could be trusted. Even so, her intel had been accurate so far. VILE was struggling. So, she pushed down her worries about it for now. "I have a job for you, Miss Sandiego," she said firmly, and directly. She breathed in deeply, "I'd like you to steal the Rosetta Stone." Carmen wasn't sure she heard it right. She'd like her to steal one of the most guarded, most precious artifacts in the world? Why? She knew it should be back in Egypt... but…
Her doubts were dispelled in a second after Penelope snickered. She spoke softly, her words tinged with seduction. She had become an expert at this. "Don't tell me you aren't gonna do it. Don't tell me you are too good for it? A bona fide bella donna like yourself, with such lush maroon hair, sparkling eyes, and red lipstick, can do anything, right?" What she said caught Carmen off guard. She couldn't see the woman directly, but her light brown face was warm and flushed. She happened to accidentally turn on her camera at that moment. Penelope could see how embarrassed she was. She quickly turned off her camera. It was too late. The woman knew she had won against this international master thief.
"Uh, thanks for saying that," she began, trying to hold in her reactions, "you are right, Miss...I'll get right on it." She then asked the main question: "where would you want me to put the uh...artifact...after I've uh stolen it?" Penelope grinned. She knew exactly where. She'd be hailed as a hero. Lara would be outmatched. She'd use it to put her former friend on notice, to show her that this wasn't a game. This was real life. "At the Supreme Council of Antiquities in Cairo of course." What she knew, but hadn't been publicly revealed, was that the British Museum had already begun the slow process of repatriation, thanks to help from Lara's new foundation, Croft Center for History and Culture. She guessed that not even Carmen's hacker friend could learn about that. She hoped to undercut Lara and possibly discredit her.
Carmen responded quickly, "it will be done, Miss. I promise you." Penelope was glad. Everything was falling in place. As she saw it, Carmen had fallen victim to her manipulation. "Good. Keep me posted." She clicked the end call button and placed her phone in her pocket. Fig had been sitting there the entire time. She'd heard the entire conversation. She was a little annoyed. She huffed and pouted. She twirled some of her black hair, and her lighter blue highlights in the front, with her finger. She came close to her friend, or perhaps more than a friend, putting her hands on one of Penelope's blond hair highlights. "Did you have to talk to her that way...don't you care about me?...I'd wish…"
The woman laughed and shook her head. She couldn't believe this hot, muscular pale-skinned woman was acting this way toward her. She stroked the woman's chin, her amber eyes staring into the woman's grey eyes and her blue mascara, of a dark shade than her highlights. "Oh, I do, my sweet. Don't be jealous now. I only wanted to get her to help m—us accomplish our goals to put that snake, Lara, in her place." Fig nodded, staring adoringly at her, and relented. She had her own reasons for detesting that supposedly former treasure hunter.
For all that Mila had done, she had paid for all of Fig's gender transition needs. Fig had wanted to destroy the world to remake it all over again, but she wasn't bigoted. She had only fully realized she was trans after spending time with Penelope. She sort of knew, but this woman had given her even more resources and support than anything Mila had done. She didn't have a toxic relationship akin to what she had with Mila, who would say she enjoyed her "purchase" of her body. For all her faults, Penelope treated her well. She didn't mind that Fig had transitioned from a man to a woman, or that she had chosen her own name. Fig seemed more than capable. And she respected that.
"Thanks, P," she said, "I don't know how you knew she'd be into it though..." The woman shook her head. She rattled off something that surprised her. She used her developed intelligence network to learn anything she could about those people she aimed to exploit. There was nothing, and no one, she couldn't know intimate details about. She picked up her datapad and pressed a button. It soon displayed a hologram across the room.
"Let me tell you, my sweet, amazing, Fig, how I know. There's pictures of that Carmen girl and that Canadian professor, Julia Argent is her name, getting close." She then explained that one of Carmen's good friends was Ivy, that she had also been shown near a man named Gray, and there were countless women she'd trained with at VILE Academy. She couldn't stop her explanations until she moved onto to her woman of interest. She displayed everything she had gathered, thanks to her informants. "Now, that damn Lara, she doesn't even try to hide anything. She's been with that Sam Nishimura, despite her publicly denying it for some reason. And I have on good authority that she teased her childhood friend, the daughter of the late Conrad Roth and an Interpol agent, Camilla Roth, by bathing fully naked when Camilla was in another room... she's been close to Eva Tong, of The Library's branch in Beijing as well." Fig was amazed at how much she knew. That's why she loved her so, that's why she trusted her. It was all coming together.
Meanwhile, Carmen had no idea who Penelope was, but her sense of justice and commitment to stealing artifacts from their wrongful owners drove her forward. "Player, what can you tell me about the Rosetta Stone? Can we take it?" He began to rattle off facts about it, noting it was uncovered by French soldiers in 1799, and that "finding" it was groundbreaking, unlocking all sorts of lost history, writings, and wisdom. He scratched his head. He didn't know how to tell her this. "Red, this isn't gonna be easy. This slab of black granodiorite has high-tech security. No one has even attempted to take it before. It might be a trap to arrest you and throw you in the slammer."
She had expected that. But, this did not phase her. They had faced tough circumstances in the past. Team Red could pull through. She'd be asking all of them to do their part, although she'd be taking the biggest risk. She was ready. "Player, I appreciate the worry, but I can do this." Shortly after getting off a call with him, she took a red eye from San Francisco to London. The plan was simply. She would parachute down and land near the British Museum, where she'd get the artifact. They parked the plane in a secluded airfield, where a helicopter was waiting for them. It had been pre-arranged, thanks to one of their partners.
Ivy flew the copter. Her friend, Shadowsan with her too. He'd stay nearby if something went wrong. She carried a special gun that could immobilize someone, with a certain gas, with her. Julia had given it to her as a present, with the approval of the Chief, who she was now on good terms with. She descended onto the museum and prepared to go in. Shadowsan did the same only moments later and landed on the roof of the Winston House, the European Study Center of the University of North Carolina. No one saw him for some reason. Meanwhile, she made her way across the roof, jumping as she went, running as fast as she could, until she reached a certain window. It was the room which shined upon the gallery which contained this historic stone. Many videos she had watched online had shown this. Plus, one of her friends had cased out the museum and sent her photos, while looking like a normal tourist.
Before she cut through the window, Player tapped away on his keyboard. He had breached the museum's security systems. He pressed a key. All the security shut down, including all of the cameras within the entire museum. It was totally dark. The museum had fired someone earlier that year for it. Even worse, someone had stolen thousands of artifacts for years. Even so, the higher-ups claimed that their systems were up to snuff, even though the IT staff had warned them about issues. So, this time they brushed it off. They'd never admit it, but they didn't care if anything was stolen. It was the higher-ups that were to blame, not them. With this hole in security, Carmen was able to cut through the glass and make her way into the Egyptian sculpture gallery. She tiptoed carefully. She didn't see anyone, until out of nowhere, two flashlights shined on her.
Two women stepped out of the shadows. "Lara, you were right! Someone really does want to steal the stone," one woman said. She stood beside a muscular, brown-haired woman. They came in closer and prepared themselves. Carmen wouldn't stop with her mission. She moved her bountiful, wavy, and thick brown hair from side to side, and confidently strutted forward her slender, shapely, and curvy self. "You two can't stop me. I'm gonna return this to where it belongs: Egypt." Lara was incredulous. How could someone be saying this? Didn't she know already? Or did she not? "Uh, we are already in the process of that...can we please talk? You don't need to do this."
The woman in a red trenchcoat chuckled. She couldn't believe these women. Who were they after all? Why were they trying to stop her? She wasn't pleased to see them. Not at all. "No, the time for talking and polite action is over. You can say what you want, miss, but I know this museum can't be trusted. They stole so many artifacts from Egypt. They want their damn grubby hands all over them. Why are you on their side?" She lunged forward toward the glass case. The two women raised their silver pistols at her. They spoke in unison. "Step away from the case, lady. We don't want to shoot." She turned her head from side to side. She was daring them to try. She placed certain headphones over her ears. She then emitted a high-pitched sound. It sent Lara and the other woman back, with glass shards flying everywhere. Somehow, Carmen was uninjured. She wrapped her hands around the stone, now that the glass case had been broken.
Lara was utterly horrified. Seeing her friend injured made her furious. Since she was delirious from the sound which continued to assault her ears, she couldn't do much. She was even a little disoriented even after Carmen turned off the device. She reached for her handgun, but Carmen saw her first. She unhooked her special ACME gun from her belt. She fired it right at Lara's face. It was a direct hist. A special gas released, covering her entire face. She quickly became sleepy and fell to the ground. Her vision became blurry. She tried to reach out and stop Carmen, but to no avail. The master thief kept walking toward the window, feeling that no one could stop her.
The other woman, just as injured, inched her arm, with its an ivory skin tone and creamy tan color, shining under the moonlight, toward the woman. "I won't let you get away!" she exclaimed. She raised her gun, but another one of the lady thief's gadgets stopped her. As extendable fist came out of her sleeve, punching the woman's hand. She yowled in pain. The lady shook her head. "Just so you know, neither one of you stood a chance against me." She dragged the stone out of the room, somehow, struggling with its weight. It was so damn heavy! She spoke into her communicator. "Ivy, I'm ready for a pickup!" Her friend chirpily replied. "Got it, Carm!"
Carmen waited at the window, which she smashed apart with the force of her body. Glass shards fell below. She didn't have much time. She told Shadowsan that he better come quick, since she needed help immediately. He did what she asked. The sounds she'd made during the fight with the two women, whose faces she couldn't fully make out because the room's lights had been turned off, had alerted the guards. She had to get out of there. If she didn't, this would all be worthless. In the nick of time, just as she heard multiple footsteps approaching, the copter approached. Ivy came within inches of the window. Shadowsan had made it. Ivy had picked him up earlier. He held out his arm for Carmen and grabbed her. Thanks to some specially made set hooks, and pulleys, they started to rope in the stone. The guards raised their guns.
However, they didn't dare fire. They didn't want to risk damaging this four-foot-tall broken stela. It was a national, and an international treasure. All they could do was demand that Carmen and her friends stop. Their pleas were completely ignored. The artifact was safely taken aboard the copter. As the copter's door began to close, Zack threw a smoke bomb through the broken window and into the room. The guards coughed. The smoke obscured their escape.
As they flew into the air, they couldn't believe they had gotten away. It seemed almost unbelievable. Usually they were chased by someone. This time, no one even attempted to follow them. Once the copter had reached a safe distance from the museum, Player reactivated the security systems. Back inside the Egyptian sculpture gallery, the smoke finally cleared. The lights across the museum turned on. The guards could see the damage that had been wrought on the glass cases in the room, which were smashed apart. Nothing else had been disturbed, except one artifact: the stone. It was missing. This would be a clear disgrace for the museum, if... One of the women groaned.
"Lady Croft!" the guard cried out, "are you okay?" She put her thumb up. The guard still wanted her to receive medical attention. She didn't want that. She was afraid someone would try to attack her in the hospital. The other woman on the ground, groaning in agony, disagreed. "Miss Nishimura, are you…" he started to say. She interrupted him. "Care for her first. I can't let anything happen to her…please help her." She spoke into her comlink and directly connected with Zip. He was surprised to hear her. This was unusual. "Lara is hurt...someone...did this...someone…" she said. He was concerned. Even so, he knew that she could care for herself. She was capable of that.
Lara suddenly opened her eyes. She crawled over to Sam and wrapped her arms around her. She pleaded. "Sam, I don't need a doctor...all I need is you." She lovingly smooched her friend on the cheek, causing a blush to cover her friend’s face. Her eyes closed then closed and she slumped onto the ground again. What in the world had just happened? And in front of these people? She gently wrapped her hands around Lara. "Uh, guys, I'll uh...take it from here...just please don't tell anyone about this." The guards nodded. They knew how much Lady Croft valued her privacy. Sam somehow carried her out of the museum and out a back door, so no one would see them. Luckily for her, it was National Girlfriend Day, which honored bonds between women, without any rules for how to celebrate, with people having free rein to be as romantic as possible. Zip teased her. "Wow, LC really likes you...she doesn't smooch her other friends." Sam was annoyed. "Tease me all you want, but I'm taking her back to her hotel." He didn't say anything more, except adding, "okay, well keep me posted."
No one paid her any mind. She carried Lara down the streets in a princess carry. She walked her to the nearby fancy hotel where Lara was staying. She carried her to the elevator. A hotel staffer gave her a wink, something she didn't appreciate. She hated when people saw her this way. She took the elevator to the fifth floor, where Lara had been given a penthouse apartment for a reduced price, thanks to her previous contributions. She laid her down on the plush bed. She couldn't help but admire this ex-aristocratic cute tomb raider. She held back from kissing her friend's mouth. That would be improper, at least while she was resting. Instead, she gave her peck on the cheek.
To her embarrassment, Lara's eyes opened. "Sam, how'd I get here? And what were you doing...just now?" Sam started to back away. She prepared to defend her actions. She breathed deeply. She couldn't lie to her. She couldn't do that. Her friend had been through so much. "I...uh...carried you all the way from the British Museum after that woman attacked you and...well…" she stopped for a second, and they continued, "...I kissed you on the cheek since you did the same for me...just to thank you." This caused Lara to rub her eyes a little bit. She woke up a little more. What was her friend saying? Was she confessing to her? Maybe this was a dream? She could say anything in a dream.
In her sleepy state, and thinking this might not be real, she blurted out something without much thought. "Thank you Sam...you know I've always loved you...I just never found the right time to tell you." She said this and drifted off into sleep once more. Sam looked at her friend, wondering if she had heard it right. She must have. Her face started to feel hot. She tried to keep down her blush. She whispered back a response. "I feel the same, Lara...I always have...I deeply, and thoroughly, love everything about you." She sort of hoped that Lara didn't hear her. Another part of her hoped that Lara did. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for her, Lara did. Her whisper had woken her up. She couldn't believe what her friend was saying. Where did they go from here? She laid there for a bit, contemplating everything that had happened that night. She closed her eyes for a little longer.
After she saw that her friend had fallen sleep, she slowly tiptoed out of the room. She made her way to the balcony. She took a cigarette and a lighter out of her pocket, and blew out a cloud of smoke. She felt better already. She really needed to relax. She wouldn't have that chance, however. She soon heard a nearby whirring and whooshing sound. She looked out and saw her: a woman with deep and rich brown skin, with black hair with blonde highlights, a metal nose ring going through both nostrils, and dark purple lipstick. Sometimes, this woman's skin had a creamy color with red undertones. Other times it radiated from within, as she glowed like the sun, overflowing with warmth and luminosity.
The woman hovered in air while wearing a custom-built jetpack of some kind. Those things actually existed? "Oh, Lara, Lara...I can't believe you could be so foolish, to defend a colonialist, racist institution like the British Museum. Perhaps you really haven't changed from your father." Hearing this, she almost reached for a weapon, but remembered she didn't have her gun on her. She had put it inside. She gnashed her teeth. "Who are you?” she demanded. The woman was even more incensed. She wanted to stick it to Lara even more. How could she not even know? What had happened to her? How had she forgotten so much?
"I'm Penelope Stone," she said with a straight face. Lara put it together. She made the connection. Something clicked in her mind. It all made sense now. She gasped. She looked so different. Was it really her? It couldn't be, right? She had to make sure. "Penny...is...that you?...I thought you were dead! I thought someone had murdered you! I looked for you after we lost touch...but I could never find you...I searched and searched...I almost lost my mind." Although the now-villainess was relieved to hear her words, it didn't erase all the pain she'd caused. She couldn't get over it that easily. She gritted her teeth.
"Well, Lara, it's Penelope now. I don't use that other name anymore...as for you, the so-called 'ex-heiress' of the great Croft family, you are going to get what's coming to you...your little game is going to come crashing down...no matter how much you deny it, I know you are with Sam Nishimura...I know you are a couple...why did you choose her...instead of me?" She said it with pain in her voice. She felt so betrayed and let down. Lara tried to comprehend what in the world was happening. She attempted to be apologetic. She wasn't the best with this kind of thing. "I didn't mean to hurt you...if I could only go back..." she started to say. The woman snarled. She couldn't stand this damn Brit.
"You can't do that, Lara. You can't re-do the past like Jay Gatsby...that isn't real...you know, he got murdered by some fucking auto mechanic in the end...Anyway, I'll make you feel the pain that I've suffered with for so many years, pain I've had all because of you." She moved closer to Lara and pecked her on the cheek. She did at such a quick speed that Lara couldn't stop her. She snickered, as she began backing away. Lara's face had turned completely red.
"Don't worry, Missy...that's just the kiss of death, of misfortune...that is what you British swine deserve...you'll be seeing me around...love you!" she shouted as she jetted away into the night sky. She disappeared like a flash, like she's never been there at all. Lara couldn't say anything in response. She fell to the ground, her back on the concrete wall behind her. She tried to piece it all together. Her school friend was alive...and she was a villain who wanted to take her down...And she'd...kissed her? She didn't know how to feel about her or how she should feel. She got up and had another smoke. She put out her cigarette and went back inside. She'd deal with it in the morning…
The next day she was awoken by her black haired friend softly touching her brown hair. She opened her eyes and saw her friend staring right at her. Unlike the previous night, her friend didn't back away. "Lara...it's time to get up..." She stared into her friend's brown eyes lovingly. "Okay, Sam," she said sleepily. They laid there side by side, stroking each other's hair for little while, enjoying one another's company. Before long, they were sitting next to each other at a small breakfast bistro table. The chowed down on bagels and drank tea that Lara had brought with her. You really couldn't trust continental breakfasts at places like this. There was so much packaged food. She had her own routine.
"I still can't believe you like cinnamon sugar and drink tea. I thought you'd be eating a jalapeno pepper every morning and be drinking black coffee." Lara couldn't stop laughing. Sam had a wrong impression about her. She looked at her friend with a smirk on her face. She put her hand on her left leg. "It's just what I'm used to. I don't even know all those Japanese and Portuguese foods you like..." Their happy bliss was interrupted by a text message from Zip. Lara was still recovering from the fight with that woman the previous day just like Sam. His message was direct. She could tell he was concerned. "LC, you gotta turn on your TV. Something's going down in Cairo. It's on every news channel."
She moved over to the bed and grabbed the TV remote, pressing a red button to turn on the black screen in front of her. She then put in her earpiece. She activated it by pressing a blue button on the side. Using the remote, she went through the channels and clicked on BBC News. She liked it better than terrible American corporate media. Despite that, she hated that they'd started making their broadcasts transphobic by describing trans people in a degrading way. Perhaps they were better than the trashy tabloids, but not much better at this point. Too many bigoted, awful people, were in the U.K. Sometimes, it made her sad to think about it.
The chyron at the bottom of the screen blared out a message, the latest story for all to see: "BREAKING NEWS: Rosetta Stone 'Returned' to Egypt." She hoped this wasn't what she believed it would be. The announcer, clearly annoyed and not liking this news, almost spoke about it with a level of derision in his voice: "We are here today in Cairo. A press conference at the Supreme Council of Antiquities is about to begin. Our government sources tell us that there will be an announcement about the 'return' of a key historical artifact that was reported stolen from the British Museum last night." He then told viewers that the press conference was beginning.
Cameras of international news agencies were on standby to broadcast the press conference across the world. The Egyptian government had invited them. "Thank you all for coming today," a nicely dressed Egyptian man, dressed in a black suit and tie, said. "I'm Ahmed al-Adani, Egypt's minister of tourism and antiquities. Last night we received a broken rock slab in the main hall of the Supreme Council of Antiquities from Miss Sandiego. It's authenticity has been verified by experts, including Professor Argent, who flew in this morning from the University of Montreal. She specializes in ancient artifacts. This rock slab is none other than the Rosetta Stone. We are more than overjoyed to have it back in Egypt, where it truly belongs, not in a stodgy museum in London. We have been calling for the repatriation of this stele for years, to have this icon of our country's identity returned. It is a part of our cultural heritage. It's ours, not theirs."
He turned toward one of the women standing on his right side. "I'd like to introduce Miss Carmen Sandiego, CEO of Black Sheep Incorporated. She has extended a generous deal to us. She has put her thieving days behind her and has fully dedicated herself to helping countries, like ours, to recover our artifacts. She helps catch criminals before they sell precious history on the black market."
The young woman stepped forward, wearing a striking red sparkling dress, cut at the leg, showing off her slender body, and her beauty. It was similar to the one she's worn that time to a certain gala, but also different. Her wavy maroon-red hair was down to her hip, with her bangs parted at the side. She stared toward the camera. Her prominent eyelashes stood out. They were eyelashes you could get lost in, if you weren't careful. Despite how small they were, her face was accentuated by them, as was her trademark red lipstick. Lara and Sam looked at her almost in awe. They wished they had looks like her and could pull it off.
"Thank you, Mr. al-Adani. I'd like to announce that Black Sheep Incorporated is willing to pay the full cost for state-of-the-art security to protect this priceless piece of history. For too long, artifacts have been taken by colonizers and not returned to where they truly belong. The British Museum is one of the worst offenders. Without their stolen artifacts, the museum would be nothing. It would be a dead letter. We cannot sit and wait years for people to sign documents on official paper. These artifacts need to be returned now. The Rosetta Stone belongs with the people, not in some insecure, haughty museum."
She took a deep breath. She was about to say something even bolder. She knew that her words would make some people angry. So what. "We must take direct action to ensure that objects of international, and cultural, significance, return to their original homes. Museums in London, Paris, Berlin, New York City, and elsewhere, can sneer all they want, and claim that they are serving citizens of the world. They are not. Truth be told, all they want is one thing: to profit from theft. We can't let them. I am happy to announce that we are taking immediate action, starting with the British Museum, in court, to legally force that museum to return their stolen artifacts. We can't wait around for promises and weak-willed action. The time is now for decisive action. As an Argentinean and a Mexican, I've seen this happen to my home countries, and how museums drag their feet. I'm not about to let it happen again."
People clapped and cheered. They agreed with every word. Carmen had a few more words to say. "I'd like to introduce the one who gave me the assignment to retrieve this stolen artifact. Everyone please put a hand together for Miss Penelope Stone. She has been dedicated to this even longer than I have." Coming up to the podium while wearing a nicely tailored longline bright emerald ladies jacket, Penelope looked different. This wasn't like her usual outfit. This classic, and embroidered, silk jacket was very popular. It was designed to be worn open. She wore it with trousers of the same color. She'd designed it to have pockets while keeping small vents on the sides. She felt incredible.
"Thank you, Miss Sandiego. Renowned Egyptologist John Ray once said that a time would come that the Rosetta Stone has spent more time in the wretched, overcrowded British Museum than in the wonderful Nile Delta port city of Rosetta, called Rashid in Ancient Greek. We can't wait for that time to come. We can't let rogue actors like Lara Croft, with her newfangled Croft Center for History and Culture, fool us. Let us all remember, regardless of her claims, she still remains the heiress of the massive Croft family fortune which grew thanks to her notorious father who stole artifacts for his own pleasure. She can't be trusted. She's something despicable: a tomb raider. There are some you can trust. You can trust Miss Sandiego, Black Sheep Incorporated, and Penelope Industries, a company I've headed for years with my associates. I can assure you that. It is my golden guarantee."
The crowd became boisterous. They were cries from the assembled Egyptians, many of whom raised their fists into the air. "Down with the British scoundrels! Repatriation not theft! Our heritage matters!" This was exactly what Penelope had hoped for. She had known that that anger at the British remained fresh. People felt bitter that their culture had been taken away. She tapped into those feelings. The press conference continued, but Lara had heard enough. She wanted to punch the TV screen, but Sam held her back. How could Penelope describe her that way? Who did she think she was?
"Lara, calm down, please...don't hurt yourself...not after what happened yesterday." Her friend looked at her. She was almost about to cry as she firmly held her friend's hand. She pressed a button on the remote. The TV turned off, becoming a dark black screen once more. Just feeling Sam's hand caused her anger to dissipate. It felt soft and warm. "I'm sorry...I just…" She couldn't hold it anymore. She started to cry. Her friend held her close as tears streamed down her cheek. For a while, they remained in a close embrace. Soon her tears subsided. They looked at each other. Sam was worried about her.
"Is there something you'd like to talk about?" Lara nodded. “I can't stand that woman...she defamed me! And...if that wasn't bad enough, I was her close friend at boarding school when she was named Penny...we lost touch...I tried to find her for a while, and I thought she was gone." She said something that was certain to create misunderstandings. But she couldn't hold back. "All I know is that she hates me... she said as much when she came by here last night."
That set off alarm bells in Sam's head. She'd come by? How? When? She needed to know more. She pulled Lara close and growled. "Explain. What you mean she was here last night?" This was certain to be a mess. She really didn't want her and Sam to drift apart again. "I was gonna tell you before watching that fucking clown show on TV. I was smoking out on the terrace…" Her friend judged her intently with her discerning eyes. She threw up her hands. "I know it's bad for me. I know! I know I shouldn't do it anymore. Yesterday was so stressful. She came by here wearing a jetpack. She looked so different... she told me that my 'little game' was going to end. Sam, she knew that you were with me."
She stared back at Sam, with a forlorn look on her face. She knew she couldn't let this destroy what they had. "I tried to apologize, saying I didn't want to hurt her. She didn't care. She was so fucking stubborn! She's in a lot of...emotional and psychological pain... then she had the gall to kiss me on the cheek! I don't know what the fuck that was about! She claimed it was the kiss of death... I don't know about that because she said she loved me then she jetted away? I'm so pissed off! Gah!" Sam was trying to take it all in. This woman had declared she'd get her revenge on Lara... and kissed her? What the hell! She couldn't stand for this. Something had to be done.
"Don't worry, Lara, we'll get through it. Just trust me on this." She had to get back at that woman. She whipped out her phone and opened one of her favorite social media apps, Face Smasher. She'd created an account to showcase her photography. Over the years, she had been far too embarrassed to post anything of Lara. She wanted to keep those photos as part of her own private collection. She had been grateful that Lara had retrieved her camera which that sadistic woman, Mila, had stolen. She didn't go on Face Smasher that much. She usually just checked accounts of celebrities and renowned photographers. She had encouraged Lara to create her own account too. Her friend has begrudgingly agreed, but she rarely ever posted on there.
"Can you do one thing for me?" she asked her brown-haired friend. Lara looked at her dumbfounded. What was getting at? Did she want to walk around London or something? She'd be okay with that. "Can you kiss me?" Lara had never expected that question. She started to blush. What did Sam want her to do? Was she toying with her? Was she being serious? "I-I-I can...only if you want to," Lara said cautiously. Sam nodded. She had one final request, raising her hand like she was in school. Lara rolled her eyes. What now? "It can't be on the cheek. It has to be on the lips."
Lara pouted. "Okay...here I go." She moved in slowly, inching closer, until she reached her friends lips. She closed her eyes. Her lips sloppily touched Sam's. Placing her hand on the back of Lara's head, she moved her even closer, causing in even deeper, crimson blush. She held her phone above them both, and somehow snapped a photo. She had gotten good at this after taking selfies hundreds of times with friends. Their lips remained locked together for longer than either of them expected, even after Sam withdrew her hand from the back of Lara's head. They had wanted to do this for so long. Finally they had a chance.
After a while, it had been enough. They both breathed deeply, while remaining close, as they sat next to one another. What now? "I guess we are girlfriends now?" Lara said, clearly curious of her friend's answer. Her friend smiled. "Yeah, that's right." With a devious smile, she turned to her now-girlfriend. She wanted to make that dastardly ex-friend jealous. She wanted to get back at her. "Why don't we post our kiss on social media?" Sam was surprised. She was about to propose the same thing. That was why she'd opened the Face Smasher app after all. She never imagined that Lara would propose it first. "Are you absolutely sure? It might make people think about you differently." Lara nodded. She had been used to these kinds of probing questions. This might make it harder for her. She didn't care. Penelope had to pay. "Yeah, it's fine. Do it."
She opened the app again. She went to the photo feature, went through the filters, added alt-text ("Me intensely kissing my girlfriend") and wrote a caption: "Kissing my girlfriend @lady.croft.ex.heiress in London. Hope you all had a great National Girlfriend's Day yesterday. I know I did!" She completed her post by adding the tags: #loveislove, #mynewgirlfriend, #twobadassesinlove, #comingout, and #sapphiclove, along with a bunch of others she thought up. She clicked a blue button. The photo made it's way into interwebs. The British tabloid papers, which closely monitored the social media accounts of both women for any activity, soon posted articles. Celebrity magazines and a panoply of queer publications soon followed up with their own stories.
On social media, some people snarled, calling Lara a "liar." Others celebrated, saying they "always knew" that the two women would get together. Penelope, in her mountain ice fortress near the North Pole, saw the news. She slammed her fist down on the table. She couldn't believe that Lara had done this. Why hadn't the theft of the Rosetta Stone stopped her? Why weren't people rallying against her? Why was the media lapping this up? Fucking jerks, all of them, she thought. She hated this. She growled. "If it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna take you down, Lara Croft, and your damn girl too...just you wait."