It was warmer here, and drier too, but that was about all that could be said for Paris when compared to his native Exeter. He'd been living in London for the past few years, much to his fathers duress. They were loyal to Cambridge university, and here the eldest of the current brood had dared to plump for University College London - to study ancient history and classics of all things. What good was that to anyone? To Tristan it was everything, and his enthusiasm for the past bordered on the obsessive, though he would never admit to that fact. His mother at least enjoyed that it was the one thing in life he took seriously, seeing his course all the way through, and now embarking on the long and arduous journey to a doctorate. And so he had come to Paris. Having researched dilligently, Tristan had just about managed to get backing for this trip to find what was supposedly a pre-Roman temple somewhere up in the Alps. They had a vague location, it just remained to be seen whether anything would come of what could very easily be a mistranslation or indeed a wild goose chase. Not that it changed the excitement that continued to well in his chest. Tristan was a typical academic, though perhaps a little less rough around the edges than some. He had rugby to thank for that, though it was also responsible for at least six broken bones, along with too many concussions to count. So it was a given that he was fairly tall, and always stuck out like a sore thumb alongside his colleagues. He was trim and stood proud, while most of his fellows were flabby on a diet of coke and crisps. Their work didn't leave much time to look after oneself. Tristan supposed he wasn't nearly as obsessive as he could be. Today he stood in the lobby of a surprisingly nice hotel, the decor ornate and over the top, typical of the flouncy french. They could never be simple, though he supposed that was part of the charm. Tristan busied himself flirting with the receptionist, forest green eyes leaving hers whenever she looked away to enter something into the computer. Of course, he took the opportunity to have a quick glance at her breasts. She didn't notice, his charm ensnaring her quite nicely, despite his unkempt brown hair and distinct lack of tan. He was hardly the typical city boy she might be used to. It was in this distracting flirtation that Tristan neglected to check the booking. Instead, he came away with the double room, rather than a twin. He had left his travelling partner getting in the luggage, most of which was his. Maybe that was selfish, but it was also damn amusing.