{A/N: Okay. My little cousin, who's almost twelve now, begged me to write a story for him quite some time ago. He was ten then, and his favorite show was "Mummies Alive!" He taped all the episodes, and would beg me to watch it with him. I agreed to write a story for him, but never got around to it. Now I wish I had written sooner. So… without further ado… here's my first (and probable last) fanfic centered around these guys. However! Before I go on to the fiction, here's a small word. The show never REALLY told how Nefer-tina felt for Ja-Kal. And I always thought she was a better match for him than his wife, but, hey, we don't always get what we want, right? So… while I have nothing against Tia, I just happen to think that the guardians made a better match. And, yes, this is another of my angst, one-sided fictions, told in a monologue. Also should be sorta longish… talks about the past, the present and the future.}

Monologue #1: The Past

I stood in the shadows again, silent, as they met again on the staircase, locked in a passionate embrace. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his muscular frame as he leaned down and whispered into her ear. His own arms, well-toned from long hours of hunting, held her against her, while his hands played over her back with the care of a jeweler polishing a rare gem. Again, I wondered what it would be like to be held in that embrace…

But She was there. She kept him from me…

He didn't even know I existed. Oh, sure, he knew me… but as my alter-ego. Nefer. Not Nefer-tina. Just Nefer, the charioteer. One of the four guardians to the Prince. A trusted friend and occasional companion. But there was so much more to me than that. Even a guardian had feelings. And I had them all the time.

I remembered first meeting him; first meeting all of them. And, once again, I allowed myself to drift in memory. I was younger then, but I still had the same spitfire personality that made me a candidate for a Royal Guardian. Armon, the largest of our merry little band, I liked almost instantly. Out of them all, he was my closest friend and confidante. The merry one, constantly jesting. But he was smarter than he was given credit for; he knew I was a woman, but didn't let on to the others.

Then there was Rath. While he was, and still is, stuck-up, he could also be a good friend, and I know he would lay down his life for any of us. Even me. He's considered the smartest one of the group, and lives up to it too. Occasionally, he'll become merry and jest, but he's mostly serious.

Then… then there was Ja-Kal. The hunter. He… is, the most handsome man I've ever seen. Even at first glance, I knew he was too good for me. Besides, he's too taken with HER to even notice me. Then again, if he did notice me, I'd be killed for treason. He's always been so strict to follow the rules. Bast, at times I wish that man would loosen up. It's just not right that a man so handsome can be such a royal pain.

My head lifted again, and I was drawn out of my reverie as She laughed, pulling him down to touch her lips to his firm, sensual ones. Trying not to gag, I turned away in revulsion. She was too womanly for my tastes, and apparently Armon's as well. He can't stand her any more than I can.

Footfalls approach, and I whirled, my hair a silken cloud behind me as Armon approached. Taking a breath to calm my nerves, I wasn't surprised when he wraped an arm around me gently.

"If you need a shoulder to cry on, here's a strong one." As always, I laid my head on his shoulder, letting him steady me. One big hand smoothed over my hair, as he leaned down to whisper his usual refrain in my ear. "He's not worth your tears. One day, he'll have to eat his heart out when you get married."

"Thank you, Armon." Smiling, brushing the remainders of my tears from my eyes, I gently placed a kiss on his cheek. He blushed, but as usual did nothing about it. Instead, he handed me my helmet and helped me tuck my long hair into it, hidden from view.

My true identity as one of the softer sex was hidden, and my soft side as well. Armon's hand on my shoulder calmed me, and I took a few deep breaths as She left the stairs. Ja-Kal watched her leave, his eyes straying to her curvy figure, never moving.

With help, I walked towards him, wearing the mask I so cleverly hid behind daily. He smiled at me, at Armon, and at Rath, who raced up behind us. The scribe was gasping for breath, and I had never seen him look so upset.

"The prince is in danger!" My eyes burned angrily, knowing full well what was going on. Scarab wanted to kill the prince again. We had to stop him.

With no time to chat, all four of us raced towards battle. I was scared, and it appeared Rath was as well. Armon's hand still rested on my shoulder, but he was tense. The only one not worried was Ja-Kal. He looked as he always does before a fight.

Little did he know that this would be our last battle alive. Little did we all know that this would be our last meeting for many, many years.