Oh, boy, it's an update bonanza!  Here's the big event for our two heroes from way back when.

"DREAM CATCHER"

by

Eric R. Umali

“Picnic”

Flipping open the lid of the wicker basket, John Talbot rechecked its contents.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice said, *Eight.  That’s eight times you’ve checked it, John.  It’s not going anywhere.*  Satisfied, he closed and refastened the lid, then stood before the mirror.

His last girlfriend had teased him for “still dressing like a graduate student,” and had done her best to start him wearing more “grown-up” clothes.  Today, he’d tried to strike the right balance by choosing a collarless white shirt, rugged khakis and thick-soled oxfords.  Raking his fingers through his hair one more time, he hefted the picnic basket and headed for the door.

He arrived at Lara’s hotel exactly ten minutes early, so he took the stairs to her floor.  *Oh, this is good,* he thought to himself.  *Head’s getting light, knees are getting weak, and I’m having trouble remembering what her room number is.  John, you’ve been shot, stabbed, beaten and left for dead more times than you can count, and some _woman_ is turning you back into some stupid kid!*

“And the worst part,” John whispered to himself, “is that I’m enjoying every second.”

Reaching Lara’s door, he knocked.  John was too distracted to hear the sudden scrambling and the forced pause from inside.  The door opened.

Lara stood before him, her long, lean figure framed by the doorway.  The light brown cotton of her sundress clung jealously to her curves, and the hem swirled slightly in the breeze from the air conditioning.  John’s gaze raced down the tanned, shapely length of her legs before ending at the sandals, whose straps criscrossed their way back up her calf.  She stood with on hand on her hip and the other holding a straw sun hat behind her.

“Good morning, Mr. Talbot,” she said.

John felt his father’s spirit kick him in the seat of his pants and jar him back to reality.

“Good morning, Ms. Croft,” he replied.  “You look absolutely breathtaking today.”

“Why thank you,” Lara answered, fighting back the barest hint of blush she felt in her cheeks.  “You’re looking quite handsome yourself this morning.  Who dressed you?”

He laughed.  “Someone told me a few years ago that I should at least _try_ to dress my age.”

“It’s about time.”

“Are you ready to go?” John asked.

Lara nodded, and reached inside the room for her bag.  She closed the door and tossed the key into the miniature backpack.  “Off we go.”

In the parking lot, John held open the passenger door of his Z3.

“I was going to ask you last night,” Lara began, “isn’t this a little impractical for desert driving?”

John shrugged.  “One of the few perks of being a thirty-five year old man is that you can just say you felt like a sports car, and no one will argue.  Besides, there are some options on it that aren’t exactly dealer-approved.”

**********

Again, they found themselves at the base of the small bluff.  This time, the dazzling Arizona sun shone down from a crystal blue sky.  John removed the picnic basket from the trunk, and they began the short hike up.

Lara spread out the blanket as John assembled the shade umbrella.  They sat down to the exquisitely prepared lunch and the equally superb wine.  Soon, both Lara’s musical trill and John’s hearty laughs were echoing back down the bluff.

“So you’ve met Professor Jones, too?” Lara said, her voice just betraying a touch of lightheadedness.

John nodded.  “He helped me do some of the Argo research.  It was only for a few weeks, but they were a very interesting few weeks.”  He laughed.  “Almost a hundred years old, and he could drink most of the undergrads under a table!”

He filled their glasses again.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Lara chided, “a lady might think you’re trying to get her drunk.”

“Me?” he replied in melodramatic surprise.  “Why, I’d never.”

They laughed again, and enjoyed the scenery for a minute until John spoke again.

“Do you remember the last time we had a picnic?”

Lara’s face darkened.  “Of course I do,” she answered, a little more sharply than she intended.  “A girl doesn’t forget that kind of thing.”

“Neither does a boy,” John answered, a little hurt.

**********

It was just as Lara had feared it would be: hot, humid and stuffy.  She was currently crammed into an ancillary tunnel of the burial complex they were currently excavating.  Earlier in the day, John had broken through into this tunnel, and translated its hieroglyphic “street signs” to find it led towards a previously unknown chamber.

Lara had volunteered to follow John into the tunnel, though there wasn’t much choice in the matter.  Since no one had foreseen its existence, the rest of the archaeological staff were either too frail or too rotund to enter, and John trusted none of the other students with this important a task.

So, Lara found herself following John into the darkness and into the past, her hand firmly clasped around his.  She was about to make a flirtatious comment on the subject when the first tremor hit.

“Oh, God!” she cried.

John saw the debris begin to fall behind them.  He shoved Lara in front of him.  “Run!” he ordered, and they both sprinted down the ancient corridor.  Finally, they ducked into a side chamber.  There was another tremor, and John threw himself over Lara as the entranceway collapsed, sealing them in.

“You can get off me now,” Lara’s muffled voice said.

“Oh.  Sorry.”  John rose, and there was the sound of rock striking rock.  Lara brought her flashlight up to find that John had indeed protected her, taking a large rock in the shoulder.

“My hero,” she whispered as she began shredding John’s khaki shirt and binding the wound with the strips.

She saw John’s faint smile in the light of their single lamp.  “Thanks, Doc,” he said, testing the limb.

“So what do we do now?” she asked.

In response, John rose and removed a small pack from his satchel, and produced a quick-light match.  He lit it, and began pacing the perimeter of the tiny, empty chamber.  Near one corner, the flame flickered.  John blew the match out.

“Well, we’ve got air coming in,” he said gratefully.  “So we’ll be fine for a while.  Professor Arbogast has a sonic probe, and they know the general area to search for us.  Should only be a few hours, depending on how bad the quake was on the surface.”

“How in hell can you be so bloody calm?” Lara snapped.

“Because this has happened to me before.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I am, but if I do, I won’t think about what’s really happened, and I won’t lose it.”

Lara stood closer.  “The great John Talbot, Jr.– scared?”

“Of some things, yeah.”

They sat in one corner, away from the collapsed rock.

“Like what?” Lara asked.

“Really big spiders,” John began.  “Ending up in a rut like my parents.”  He turned to Lara.

Even in the scant light of the lamp, she saw the warmth in his eyes.

“Falling for a girl who’s still in high school,” John finished.

“A high school girl?” Lara asked.  As her heartbeat echoed in her head, she slid closer to him.  “Really?”

“Really.”

The sheer absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on either of them, but nor did either of them care.  John reached around with his good arm and pulled Lara against him.  Her own arms snaked around him, carefully avoiding his injured shoulder.

“Tell me more,” she whispered, just before their lips closed on each other in a searing kiss.  Lara’s head was swimming, and she was loving every second.

John pulled back, eliciting a sound of disappointment from the both.  “You know this is a completely ridiculous situation, and that this may just be a side effect of the endorphin rush.”

Lara laughed, and John felt his worries evaporate.  “Stop rationalizing and kiss me, damn you.”  He complied happily.

A few minutes later, John opened his satchel and produced a hidden treasure of his own: a small bottle of the local wine, bread and cheese.  “A loaf of bread,” he recited, “a jug of wine, and thou.”

“A proper little picnic,” said Lara, the smile evident in her voice, even in the dim light.  “And poetry to boot.”  When John sat again, she shifted position, and snuggled her back against his chest.

John tugged playfully at her hair as she fed him.  Soon, the food was finished and the wine was half gone.

“What in the world is my father going to say about you?” Lara mused.

“You’re going to introduce me?” John asked, surprised.

“Of course I am.  What makes you think I wouldn’t.”

“Well, you said it yourself– what would Daddy say?”

Lara turned to face him.  “I don’t care what he says.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“For the first time in my life, yes.  I really mean it.”  She held her breath a moment.  “I think I’m falling in love with you, John.”

“That’s too bad,” John said, then paused.  “I was hoping one of us would have the sense not to.”

Lara kissed him, then slapped him on the arm.  “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

John and Lara held each other for the next two hours, until they heard the scraping of the rescue team.

TO BE CONTINUED…