2.

Ten years ago, Lara would have strode into the Randolph wearing combat shorts and a vest top and to hell with what anybody else might think; it fact, at that age she had thrived on causing a stir among the social elite. But she was older and wiser now, and today was dressed as conservatively as anybody might when attending a lunch appointment at a five-star hotel. Beside not wishing to draw attention to herself (which was all too easy these days, an unwanted side-effect of the media attention), Lara was keen not do anything to scare Alister off, especially as she got the impression he was already reluctant to meet with her.

As uncharacteristically as she was dressed, the hostess still recognised her. "Miss Croft! What a pleasure."

"Good afternoon." Lara offered a polite smile. "Has my dining companion arrived?"

"He has. I've seated him in the alcove." The hostess returned Lara's smile. "I thought you might appreciate some privacy."

Lara wasn't too thrilled at the implication, but evidently this woman thought she was doing them a favour. "Thank you."

"Would you like me to show you over?"

"No, just kindly point me in the right direction."

The hostess gestured to one of the recessed windows, where Lara could see a man sitting at the table, watching them. She thanked the hostess again, and started to make her way over. The man rose to greet her.

"Mr Fletcher, I presume?" Lara extended her hand. He was younger than she expected - late twenties, perhaps, or early thirties, certainly no older than she was - but otherwise quite the stereotypical academic, bookish and bespectacled. They exchanged a brief handshake.

"Ms Croft. Glad you could finally make it."

Lara glanced at her watch. It was showing three minutes past two. "I apologise. It never does to be unpunctual, especially in my line of work." She gestured to the chairs. "Shall we sit? Have you ordered?"

"No," said Alister as they sat down. "I didn't want to be stuck here on my own with a meal if...ah…"

"If I didn't bother to turn up?"

Alister reddened slightly. "Well...yes."

Lara leaned back in her chair. "Forgive me for being blunt, Mr Fletcher, but you seem to have rather a low opinion of me."

She expected Alister to protest, but he didn't. "No offence, Ms Croft, but you don't exactly have the best reputation in my field."

"Oh? You could have fooled me. Everybody I've spoken to in your field - and by that, I assume you mean historical study - has been perfectly charming."

"There's a certain minority-"

"You mean you?"

Again, Alister didn't deny it. "I'm sorry. I just don't care for your methods."

This objection wasn't new to Lara. "I'll admit, they're somewhat unorthodox. But effective, wouldn't you say?"

"No, I wouldn't. What about that pyramid you blew up?"

"Which one?"

Alister blanched. "There's been more than one?"

"If you're referring to the one on Atlantis, then blowing it up really was the best consequence for everyone."

"Oh, yes, because of the mutants." Alister's tone had become a little mocking. "I've read your...ah...memoir."

"I'm honoured," said Lara, shortly. She was beginning to tire of this man. "Am I to take it you're not interested in assisting me, then?"

"Assisting with what, exactly?"

"Well, everything. That business in Egypt has made me rather more cautious. A lot of it could have been avoided if I'd had the right support from the beginning." Lara decided she may as well give him the sales pitch. "I need a research assistant; somebody who knows a great deal about history, and, for anything they don't know, knows where to find it. I've been making enquiries, and your name has come up several times. Professor Avery in particular gave you a glowing recommendation."

For the first time since they'd sat down, Alister smiled. "He did?"

"Yes. But if you're not interested…"

There was a short silence. Then he sighed. "What exactly would the job entail?"

"Well, ideally it would be a live-in position - at the house in Surrey, so not too far away. Are you in a relationship?"

Alister looked startled at the question, and a little suspicious. "No. Why?"

"Purely for practical reasons. I'm not averse to hosting partners. Or dependants." When Alister didn't respond, Lara continued. "All amenities are included, of course, as well as a substantial wage. In return, I would require dedicated support while I'm out in the field, research assistance while I'm back at home, and the occasional odd job here and there. The rest of the time you'd be free to carry out your own research. You'd have full access to all of my libraries."

This last point was the one that piqued Alister's interest. "Your libraries?"

"Three at the house in Surrey alone. My great-great-grandfather was quite a bibliophile and managed to build quite an extensive collection in his lifetime. Subsequent generations have added to it over the years."

"Rare books?"

"The rarest. Some had a print run in the teens." Lara could see that the book collection would be the biggest lure for Alister, and decided to milk it for all it was worth. "I've had people break into my house, Mr Fletcher, and ignore my relic collection entirely - all they're interested in is looting my libraries."

This, it transpired, was the wrong thing to say. Alister snorted and shook his head. "Forget it."

Lara felt a little wrong-footed. "What? Why?"

"You're a fantasist."

Lara felt her temper rising. "Are you calling me a liar?"

"No. I'm calling you deluded."

Lara forced herself to remain calm. "That's not a word many people would dare mention in my presence, Mr Fletcher."

"Yes, and more's the pity!" Alister rose abruptly from his chair. "I'm sorry, Ms Croft. I don't have any more time to waste on your flights of fancy about mutants and library-looters and whatever other stories you've invented to fleece the feeble-minded rich. Please don't contact me again."

Before Lara could reply, Alister had turned on his heel and was stalking towards the exit. Lara was tempted to let him leave, but dammit, she needed an assistant and, no matter how off-putting his personality was, Alister really did seem to be the best person for the job. So she hurried after him, ignoring the mutters and stares of the other diners, and finally managed to catch up with him as he was exiting the hotel. "Mr Fletcher-"

Alister cut her off. "I've said everything I wanted to say." He pushed through the door and into the street outside, Lara only a step behind him.

"I can understand your objections," she said. "But I assure you, Mr Fletcher, I am not a fraud. Work for me and you'll be at the forefront of major historical discoveries." She lay a hand on his arm, in an attempt to stop him walking away. "You'll be the envy of Oxford, I swear it."

"More like the laughing stock." Alister shook off her hand and, not knowing what else to do, Lara let him disappear down the street. With a muttered curse, she headed back into the hotel, making a mental note to call Professor Avery later for another recommendation.