The streets of Cairo were busy this time of day. Street vendors were trying to attract tourists to their booths as the passed by. You could even hear some haggling over the prices of overpriced imitation Egyptian artifacts. There was one girl though, that was a tourist, but wasn't. She blended in with the natives, but then again, stood out like a sore thumb. She knew her way around, knew where she was going, and how to get there, but she was still unsure. She kept an eye out for anything and everything, but still looked as uninterested as possible. She was focused, and completely out of it at the same time, keeping the balance as well as she could.
She walked around the city aimlessly with her hands shoved down in her pockets. She needed to find her father, but she didn't know where to look, and she didn't even know who her mother was. She grew up in the orphanage at Cairo, only knowing her father's name, Rick O'Connell. The records said that he had grown up in the same orphanage, fought with the French Foreign Legion, and was held in the Cairo Prison, for "just looking for a good time." The records also said that he was supposed to have been hanged for said "good time", but was saved by some British broad, bartering for his life so he could lead her to Hamunaptra. They had made it back to Cairo, but it was such a long story that she could barely remember the entire thing or how it ended up.
She looked up from the ground at where she was in the city and realized that she was in a part of town that a young lady probably shouldn't be in, but she shrugged and walked on, keeping her senses alert as best she could. She kept her head down, but kept her ears open for any sign of an ambush, but really wasn't looking where she was going. She ran into an older man, about forty-five, with slightly graying, but still brown hair and blue eyes. He wore the traditional khaki safari get up, and carried a rather large pith helmet in his hands.
"Why, hello darling," the man slurred, reaching for her hand. "Would you care to join me for a drink or two?"
"Seems to me you've already had a couple without me," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Ah, but alas, those two will never be able to tell the others that come after that they were drunk in the company of a beautiful lady such as yourself," the man said smiling, proud that he had come up with a witty answer while being buzzed.
She laughed a little at this and when he offered her his arm, she accepted and he led her down the street to the Kasbah that was there.
They walked through the doors and found a booth on the far wall of the establishment and sat down. The man flagged a waitress and ordered a bottle of Bourbon and a glass of champagne for her.
"So, you asked me to drink with you, but you didn't want to know what my name is?" The girl asked curiously.
"Ah, yes, that part just slipped my mind. I'm Jonathan, by the way," he said offering his hand to her to shake.
She took it and replied, "Folks call me Sky."
"I wonder why that is?" Jonathan asked with a bemused look on his face.
"My eyes. I never knew either of my parents, so the people at the orphanage named me because of my eyes. They named me in Arabic, so my official name is Samaa, but I went to the states and needed an English name, so I just translated from Arabic to English." She said as the waitress brought their drinks.
Sky took a drink from her champagne and made a face, to which Jonathan laughed. She poured it out into the bush that was planted beside her and grabbed the bottle of Bourbon that he had ordered and poured a bit into her glass. By now, Jonathan was roaring with laughter, but no one was paying attention.
"Much better," she said when she put the glass down.
"You know that is something that I have never seen before, but it was very funny," he said in between fits of giggles.
"Never did go for the champagne. The bubbles make it taste weird to me," she said as she pulled out a silver pocket watch with her father's name engraved on the inside of the lid. She checked the time, and for a moment her finger lingered on his name, and then she closed the watch and put it back in her pocket. "Listen, Jonathan, I really ought to get going. It was nice meeting you, and thank you for buying me a drink. Maybe we will see each other again," she said as she got up from her chair. Jonathan got up as well, as a polite gentleman, and they shook hands and she walked away, leaving Jonathan with an awful lot of Bourbon whiskey to drink by himself, and a hole in his heart that he hadn't felt before he had met her.