Canopic Chaos
Disclaimer: I don't own the Night at the Museum movies, or anything therein for that matter. Plot's mine, however, as is anything that seems out of place.
A/N: Ancient Egyptians were really into their afterlives. That fact spawned this. Jed/Oct, some Ahk/OC, and brotherly love-ness Ahk/Kah at the end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prologue
He looked in from his place beside the outer front door, leaning in ever so slightly, certain of his security from prying eyes, as everyone inside was too involved in the late show at the Museum of Natural History. It'd been a long while since he looked in from the outside, and he planned to change that for good within the next few days.
Of course, Ahkmenrah had been released from his sarcophagus and was now roaming about. That pharaoh knew how to work the tablet better than anyone, and it would soon be the death of him, should his greatest plan succeed. If he could get his granddaughter to cooperate, and she sat on the razor's edge with him.
As he looked in, he noted some rather odd details. The miniatures were roaming about freely, even mingling, in the case of the cowboys and Romans. Sacajawea and Teddy Roosevelt seemed rather content with each other's company, as it were. What was most odd was that no one tried to kill anyone else, save Dexter's slapping people at, as it seemed from the outside looking in, complete and utter random.
His eyes narrowed when they found Larry at Dr. McPhee's side. McPhee was stiff as always, but oh, that Larry... His mind reeled with the thought of what levels Larry had brought him down to, but he couldn't look away.
For one instant, he had thought Larry noticed him, so he turned his back on the front door. When he was sure it was safe, he walked back to his car, where his granddaughter lay in wait, glaring out the window at nothing for reasons he couldn't yet fathom.
"Found anything?" she asked when he opened the door.
"Not a single thing," he replied, chewing his lip and climbing into the car.
"Can't you just walk in and ask?"
"It's a museum."
"So? You can still walk up to the curator and ask about this thing you want, can't you?"
"Not without looking suspicious."
"Yeah, whatever. Your business, not mine." She leaned back in her seat and stared out the window as he drove off.
