I'm doing some writing exercises in which I randomly generate numbers from lists of fandoms and characters! This is going to be my Amelia Peabody set, and I'll have others, too. I'll update each fandom when I can. After picking a fandom and character, I go into my itunes shuffle and get inspiration from songs!

AP, Ramses, The Parting Glass by Emily Kinney and Lauren Cohan

Ramses was certain that at least one, if not all three, of his meddling family knew what he was up to.

But he couldn't help the grin of affection that sprang to his lips as he regarded them across the dining room of Shepheard's.

"Another, Mr. Emerson?"

Ramses tore his eyes away from his mother, father, and Nefret and looked back at the tender. "Yes, one more," he acceded. "And I've told you hundreds of times, Ali, Ramses. Call me Ramses."

Ali smiled and nodded sheepishly. "Yes, Ramses. Another whiskey and soda."

Ramses thanked him and threw back the drink. His eyes once more pinned onto his little group. They were enjoying supper after a long day's work in the hot sun. Emerson had of course argued loudly when Ramses's mother insisted on leaving the site. The fight didn't last long once Amelia had pointed out that the sun was nearly gone and the faulty electric lights were going.

And here they were now, enjoying the luxury of the hotel. Or, in Emerson's case, tolerating the luxury of the hotel…barely.

Ramses's lips thinned as he watched his family chat with the occasional passerby. He was going to miss them…

"Any more, Ramses?"

Ali was back with another drink. Ramses simply held his hand out without acknowledging the man. Every drink took him deeper into his own head and pleasantries seemed superfluous.

Instead of downing this drink, he held it in front of his suit jacket and stirred it absentmindedly. He leaned back against the bar behind him and sighed. Almost as if she heard, Nefret looked over at him.

Ramses felt his entire body tense and his skin warm. He gripped the glass tighter.

Nefret had to know. There was no way she couldn't; even if he had taken great pains to keep his latest ploy an absolute secret. Nefret could read him as easily as he read his hieratic. He forced himself to smile at her, assuming an air of joviality he definitely wasn't feeling.

Palestine. Again.

Ramses's mind whipped through the mission ahead. He hated this bloody war. But so long as he did not need to be at the front, killing innocent boys…

He was going to slip out during dessert under the pretense of spotting a friend of his and David's. They'd believe that one, at least. Whether they'd believe the phantom acquaintance was a friend or a depraved, criminal underling of some sort was questionable. They'd at least leave him be for an hour or so before Emerson began hooting and hollering and all three of them came down upon the Cairene police station, parasols and fists at the ready.

He watched as Nefret grinned back at him and waved. He raised his glass to her.