Alright, I'm guessing a lot of you will probably be wondering why Lara and Sam's acting like this, etc, etc. Because I don't want to write a ridiculously long and boring prologue with long expositions, I'll explain the events that lead up to here through mentions in future chapters or mini OITNB style flashbacks.

I promise, everything will make sense. Even though the events before this chapter are pretty simple, I won't bore you with writing 3+ paragraphs about them. Enjoy, and please let me know if I should continue. Also, plently of fluffy and funny moments are in store.

EDIT: Had to reupload because I forgot to bloody beta it.

'Crazy UCL Archaeologist Shipwrecks Crew'. That's the newspaper headline that has made Lara Croft's life a living hell. She was stupid to think anyone would believe her. As far as the public is concerned, the island of Yamatai is a myth, and every professor is either laughing with her or humiliated that they've once commended her for her top marks. Her former professor refuses to even look at her.

Some Croft she is.

Sam has no idea what Lara was thinking when she said she was going for a 'job interview'. Of course, she's not complaining that a friendly looking stranger in a sleek black car is driving her to the town's most expensive sushi joint and that she's reportedly not going to have to pay for anything, what she's concerned about is what exactly this job Lara's going to take will involve.

Obviously, she assumed she would be digging in some hot and arid spot with lots of rocks, but now she's not so sure. "We're not gonna kidnap you in the middle of a sushi place." The stranger chuckles, after another five minutes of silence from the normally talkative Japanese-Portuguese. Sam thinks she just saw her smirk, but maybe she was imagining it.

The woman's short blonde hair barely reaches her shoulders as she cocks her head to the side with her nonchalant cerulean eyes. To say she's dressed differently is an understatement—an army green jacket, rolled to her elbows, fits nicely over the plain tank-top underneath. A desert brown pair of cargo pants leads down to what seems like a darker shade of brown hiking boots. Lara thinks she sees her smirk a little, but that may have been her imagination, because she's busy thinking of how this person looks more like she's from the army than a newspaper office. Oh, also, Sam thinks she saw a glimpse of what seems to be a pistol on her belt, but the jacket covers it well enough for her to not be able to check without giving herself away. Her nicely shaped jaw and lightly glossed lips, accompanied by her sharp nose makes Sam wonder why she even bothers. Whatever her job is, it's clear that she won't need to look pretty to do it.

Also, Sam swears that they nearly crashed three times on the way here. This woman, who claimed to be Lara's future co-worker, kept checking for messages and replying every five minutes on the road, her eyes flicking from the screen of her phone to the road every three seconds.

Another reason to wonder what the hell Lara is thinking.

She almost doesn't notice the scent of fresh seafood, cold green tea, and hot ramen swirling all around her as she follows the stranger through the tables and chairs. "Grandma's just through here." She says, her voice confident and fairly amiable.

"Grandma?" Comes Sam's incredulous reply.

She doesn't answer, though. She slides open a traditional Japanese sliding door to one of the VIP rooms, because of course the most expensive sushi joint in town has one. Suspicious as she is, Sam can't deny that she's curious. Let it never be said that Sam Nishimura is a coward.

The door is shut behind her just in time for 'Grandma' to put down her can of beer. Sam double takes, swearing that she must be seeing things wrong. Nope, it's still beer, and it's definitely a grandma drinking it. Her dark brown hair is tied in a loose bun, her curly hair framing her wrinkled face like the vines of an old tree. Her skin, a lighter shade of brown that's still quite dark, is marked with lines that show her age. Her nose is long and pointed, almost like the evil witches in children's shows, but her smile is wise and kind. It's almost odd to see her dressed in a neat, businesslike suit.

"Sam?" Lara's eyes widen as if she can't believe what she's seeing.

"Lara?"

"Ladies," The old woman chuckles. "I will explain everything, don't you worry."

Lara gives Sam an almost pleading look that's just enough to make her sit down, and she gives the archaeologist a questioning look of her own as she sits by her best friend, across from the blonde woman who drove her here.

"I assume you've met Cameron, although she probably played the mysterious recruiter act and didn't even introduce herself properly." She laughs a bit at the younger woman beside her.

"Screw you, gran." Cameron snorts, rolling her eyes despite the grin on her face.

Upon seeing Sam and Lara exchanging another one of their looks, the old woman begins. "My name is Wilma Willows, and I run Blacklight Operations. Miss Croft, I've had one of my people make a copy of your report from your old university, UCL, and I must say that I'm very impressed."

"You what?" Lara disbelievingly asks.

"It wasn't that hard, dear." Wilma rummages through her briefcase after pulling it from under the table, taking out a very thick pile of papers. She puts it on the table, flipping it around for the two women to see. There, written in large, bold letters were 'The True Nature of Yamatai, by Lara Croft'.

Lara lets out an uncharacteristic huff, refusing to even look at the work she so lovingly typed out months ago, sacrificing her sleep and reputation as a perfectly respectable young woman who doesn't rave about little known Japanese legends. "Of course. Every professor in the world's heard of the shame of the idiot from UCL."

"That's a real shame, darling." Wilma clicks her tongue, shaking her head with disapproval. "My people have just come back from Yamatai, and they confirmed what you wrote in your report. Accurate geographical analysis, flora and fauna descriptions, even the trail of corpses that you left for us."

Cameron smirks and nods in approval. "Those were good kills. Would've liked to have been there."

There was nothing good about it. Before Lara has the chance to complain, Wilma begins again. "We... found the bodies. They'll be sent to the funeral home in two weeks, tops. It's on me."

"T-Thank you." Lara can't help but raise her eyebrows ever so slightly. "But why?"

"Consider it a gift from us." Cameron leans her elbow on the table, propping her chin on it. "We're going to be working together, after all."

Sam's father uses the same tactics. He lures his potential business partners out to lavish cruises and restaurants to show he's rich, capable, to show that they need him. It's a well known and reliable tactic.

"Our old archaeologist bailed. Disappeared. Don't know, he was one sanctimonious asshole, but he just went." Cameron begins, her tone light and nonchalant. "We offered him protection, but he kept insisting that he worked alone and shit. Hell, one of my guys offered to teach him to shoot and he nearly shot my damn foot!" She scowls, crossing her arms. "He also said he'd document everything on the fuckin' expensive camera we got him, but everything there was shaky shit with bits of him mumbling."

"Cameron..." Wilma raps her fingers against the table.

Cameron nods, albeit a little annoyed. "I wouldn't wanna bore you, but he was acting shifty as hell. He keeps scribbling into this notebook of his and he wouldn't show us shit. He even sleeps with his bag slung over his shoulder, hugging that thing in his sleep! I mean, what kind of archaeologist calls five hours of videos about leaves 'documentary'? Then one day, he just went out into the jungle and never came back!"

The connotations doesn't fly over Sam's head. "And what do you want Lara to do?" She asks, her voice on edge.

"Look, I don't know what happened to him, but he refused security and he was kind of a dick. If he finds something there and doesn't give us our cut, that's bad for business and bad for our wallet." Cameron sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Wilma takes a sip of her green tea. "I checked my networks everywhere. He's never been seen anywhere else ever since he disappeared, so we're ninety five percent sure he's still in there."

Cameron nods. "What we need is an archaeologist who's not some stuck up fucker who knows their shit, can handle themselves in a scuffle, and someone we're sure won't double cross us. We've got to find whatever he found, and then nail that fucker if he's not dead in some river somewhere."

Lara knows she shouldn't ask this, but her curiosity gets the better of her. "And how do you know I won't do that?"

"Lara." Sam interrupts. "Didn't you hear what she said? He probably got jumped by something there and died."

The young brunette doesn't answer yet, but her eyes tell her everything she needs to tell. They're not the eyes of a naive young college student, not anymore—they belong to Lara Croft. Not the victim, but the survivor.

"Me and the others will be with her all the way." Cameron says, putting her hand on her hip. Her jacket shifts to the side, revealing a peek of the pistol hidden underneath. "We've got some serious firepower, and we ain't a bunch of trigger happy kids looking for extra pocket money."

Wilma puts a hand on the blonde's shoulder, pride glinting in her eyes. "I can back up her words. Only the exceptional amongst the exceptional are accepted into Blacklight. If you'd like, you can see Cameron's dossier during our next meeting."

Sam would roll her eyes at the woman's confidence that there will be a next meeting, but the glint in Lara's eyes and her stiff upper lip tells her that her that the old woman's confidence isn't misplaced.

"That would be nice, thank you." Lara says, her hands tightening under the Finally./em

Wilma's gaze falls onto Sam as she smiles generously. "A position is also open for a documentarist-"

"Yes." Sam nods, confident, no trace of fear in her eyes.

Cameron chuckles, closing her eyes as her grin threatens to split her face. "We haven't even told you what we think we've found."

Sam impatiently leans forward. "Well, what is it?"

A smirk. "I'll be straight up with you. Ever heard of El Dorado?"

It's during that exact moment that the sliding door opens and the servers come to carry steaming plates of various foods, but Sam suddenly doesn't find the smell of crispy tempura and onigiri alluring anymore, because her attention has finally been piqued.

So I finally decided to start a Tomb Raider fanfiction. I'm going to see how much interest is here to see if I should continue, so let me know if you want more, because I'm running two other fanfic series and I want to know if there are enough readers for me to spend even more time in front of my computer from :P

I'm not going into much detail about Yamatai angst because there are lots of fantastic stories out there about that. I just want to go straight to the next adventure with Sam and Lara doing the frick frack already.

(Also, I promise to clear things up in the future chapters. Read the first author's note if you have no idea what I'm talking about.)