A/N: You know that random chick at the end of the second movie? Tess? Yeah, she doesn't exist. Also, I couldn't resist putting Rebecca in here. And yes, I went there.

Summary: Not telling!

Disclaimer: If I owned this, I wouldn't be sitting on my couch in my modest house writing fanfics about it. I'd be sitting in a comfy chair at a table in my mansion, writing a sequel.


It has been two weeks since he had come back, and he still seems to be mooning over something. Rebecca watches as Larry wanders around the exhibits, seeming to more out of sorts than usual.

"Hey," she says gently, coming up to stand next to him, "you all right?"

"What?" Larry replies. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

Rebecca cocks her head to one side. "You sure? You don't seem fine."

Larry smiles half-heartedly. "I'll be okay. Just give it time." He waves and walks off before Rebecca can say anything else.

If she's honest with herself, Rebecca has to say that Larry looks heart-broken. She wonders if it's because of the life he left behind, if he misses it. But she knows he did this voluntarily, sold his company just to come back, and she knows that no one would do that if they loved something that much. So it has to be something else. She just wishes that she could help him with it.

***

Larry looks around him. It's so good to be back, and he loves the way the museum has changed; the exhibits are alive tonight, and people are watching them. No one knows, of course, that they're alive, just thinks that they're animatronics. But something's missing.

"Hello, Larry," McPhee says.

"Hello." The two of them are standing near the aviation exhibit. "Does it seem to you like this exhibit is…lacking, somehow?" Larry asks.

"What do you mean, 'lacking'?" McPhee asks.

"It just seems…empty somehow," Larry says. "I've been thinking about it since I got back."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I read about this really cool exhibit about Amelia Earhart that's in storage in the federal archives. It might just make this." He gestures around at the aviation exhibit.

McPhee looks thoughtful. "I'll see what I can do."

***

Rebecca knows she needs to take things into her own hands. She can't stand seeing Larry this way. She wants him to be happy. She remembers the way he was when he first started at the museum. He had been so happy and full of life, and now he seems to have lost some of that spark. She does the only thing she can think of; she goes to the boss.

"What do you want me to do about it?" McPhee asks her when she addresses him.

"I don't know!" she says, frustrated. "But we have to do something!"

McPhee is silent for a few moments, then Rebecca can practically see the metaphorical light go on in his head. "He asked for me to get a certain exhibit. One thing we could do is make sure that it gets here."

Rebecca doesn't know if that's what he needs, but it willing to do pretty much anything at this point. She nods, and McPhee dials the Smithsonian.

***

It takes an hour and a half, but, finally, McPhee hangs up the phone, smiling slightly. Rebecca is leaning back in her chair, half-asleep, but completely aware of what's going on. She hoists herself upright and looks hopefully at him.

"That was more difficult than it should have been," McPhee says.

"Did you get it?" Rebecca demands.

McPhee's face breaks into what can only be called a grin. "It'll be here in less than a month."

Rebecca grins back. "Thank you!"

She tries to keep Larry's mind occupied for the next few weeks, staying late, commissioning the other occupants of the museum to keep him distracted, but she's not sure it works; she still sees him looking dejected from time to time, a lot more often than he should, to be honest.

***

Two weeks pass. It is Saturday, the one day they close early, and Larry is alone with the exhibits and Rebecca.

He stands at the foot of the staircase, watching life pass around him and Rexy drops the bone in front of him. Larry smiles and picks it up. He offers it to Rexy, who wags his tail and looks ready to pounce. Larry throws the bone, and lets Rexy run after it. They play for a little while, until Rexy finds someone else to throw the bone for him. Larry smiles fondly and wanders off.

***

In another part of the museum, Rebecca has watched a certain exhibit come to life. A large wooden crate had arrived that afternoon, and Rebecca is now confronted with a very pretty red-haired woman in an old-fashioned pilot's outfit.

"Where am I?" she asks.

"The Museum of Natural History in New York City," Rebecca tells her. "You're here by request of one of our employees."

"Who?" the woman asks, but Rebecca can almost see the wheels already turning in her head.

"A Mr. Larry Daley," and the woman is gone, sprinting down the hallways. Rebecca smiles slightly. It seems that those two have met before.

***

Amelia runs through the museum, her eyes moving quickly, searching the rooms. He brought me here, she thinks. We can be together.

She finds the Indian woman she met back at the Smithsonian; she is riding on a horse, behind a man who looks startlingly like President Teddy Roosevelt. Breathlessly, she asks the couple on the horse, "Where is Mr. Daley?"

"Last I saw," the man replies, "he was in the main hall. The staircase is just around that corner over there." He points down the hallway in the direction Amelia has been running.

"Thank you, sir!" and she is off again.

***

Once again at the foot of the stairs, Larry smiles, watching the Roman figurines sparring with each other. There was no one to fight, but Octavius insists on keeping them in shape.

His smile falls after a moment. He tells himself fiercely that he needs to forget her, but he finds that he can't. Tomorrow, he decides, he will ask McPhee about the exhibit again. Suddenly, he feels his arm grabbed and he is forced into a one-eighty.

Before him is the woman he had just been thinking about, in all her red-haired beauty.

"Amelia!" he exclaims. "They got you! You came!"

Amelia grins. "Didn't I tell you that you talk too much?"

Larry is smiling so hard it hurts, He wraps his arms around Amelia and pulls her close. She places her hand on the back of his head, then presses her lips to his. Hard.

When they finally pull apart, Larry smiles gently at the woman still held within his arms. "I missed you, Amelia," he says.

"And I, you, Mr. Daley."