A/N - Another real short chapter full of all kinds of dialogue. Sorry about the monotonous-ness of these chapters lately. I've been kinda busy and just pumping out about 500 words a sitting, and that tends to leave the piece a bit jumbled and less exciting, I've noticed. No guarantee on the length, but I can promise you guys that the next chapter will be a lot more exciting. We're nearing the end of part 1 even (this is a 3-parter, did I ever mention that? haha), and I'm really excited to finally jump out of the constrains of the game's canon storyline. While it might turn back into a bit of a drag then, you can be sure that it's my own drag! haha But yeah, hope this one isn't too boring. We're finally getting Ariane back, with a big, uh... *cough* sarcophagus *cough* in tow. Enjoy!

lukas - Thanks for the support! I'm glad you like it so far.


8. Because Sarcophagi are Heavy

"So you live in Santa Monica, eh? You know, I worked there for a time myself! Guarded a real swanky art gallery, top-security job too," said Officer Chunk excitedly, his face lighting up at the pleasant conversation. "Where d'you live at? In Santa Monica, I mean."

Dean sniffed and leaned against the reception desk, grinning lightly at his new favorite officer. "Up in the apartments above Trip's Pawn Shop."

Officer Chunk's face fell a bit, though he picked up his grin right away for fear of being rude. "O-oh. That place, uh... It's real nice. Heard it's, hm, homey."

Dean couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped him. "Don't worry about bein' rude, Chunk, I know that place is a dump. It's just I'm poor and Trip's my gho- uhm, my best friend. Helps me keep up on all the new tech these days. Feeds me every once in a while, too. Real nice guy."

"Ah, of course he is! Fine establishment, the Pawn Shop. Right across from my art gallery, even. Have you ever visited?"

A look of false guilt flashed across Dean's face. "Eh... Not really my thing, art. Y'know how it goes."

"'Course," Chunk nodded in agreement. "Me neither. I'm more of a sports man myself. Football. Well, ah, fantasy football. Where I got my name, in fact." He grinned proudly.

"Tsk. You don't say? I'll have to ask you about that sometime - uh." Dean's Motorola starts ringing. "Hold up, Chunk. Gotta take a call real quick."

Officer Chunk waved his hand. "Of course, sir. You go right on ahead."

Dean nodded a thanks and answered the phone. "Ariane? You here yet? Princess is getting a bit pissy waiting around for you and his precious sarcophagus. I thought you said you'd be here by now," he grumbled, tired of having to wait in the lobby of Venture Tower for the past hour an a half. She'd called earlier that night, announcing that she was finally returning with the prized possession after like a week of searching and doing favors for people. Dean didn't even want to know what kind of favors.

Ariane seemed utterly PO-ed. "I can't fucking get this fucking thing out of the fucking truck!" she almost screamed. Dean heard a loud bang and something like heavy metal sliding against heavier metal and then a loud-ass crash. And then more profuse swearing.

A roll of his eyes and a sigh later, Dean replied: "Where are you? D'you need help?"

Another shout that almost broke the phone - Dean could feel it. "Yes I need some goddamn fucking help, you bastard!"

"Holy shit, Ari, calm down. I'm coming. Just tell me where you are."

Some more crashing and banging, another swear or two or three, and the phone was dropped. Dean could barely make out the yelling so far from the mouthpiece. "Fat Larry's corner!"

Dean clicked the phone off and started out the door in a hurry. "Sorry Chunk, I gotta go real quick. Be ready with the door open, there's a big box comin' in."

Running down the sidewalk to hear loud noises and the same ol' swearing, another voice joins in as he swings around the corner. "Yo, lady, watch'ya try'n ta do? Murder ma merch?" Fat Larry.

Dean walked around to the back of the truck to see Ari struggling with the sarcophagus, heaved over her shoulders and hanging halfway out the back. It looked as if the back end had a sort of feathery attatchement, and it was about to break off on the roof of the truck, and some of the details on it were scraped up and down from trying to jiggle the damn thing out. Her phone, a much more modern version of the cellphone, was laying crumpled on the ground a couple yards away, as if thrown.

Dean immediately jumped up into the truck, climbing over the coffin and trying to untangle the feathery-thing from the ceiling. "How the hell did you get it in here anyway?" He paused. "And why does it smell so weird in here?"

Fat Larry cleared his throat. "Oh, dat's uh nothin', man! Jus' a lil pick-me-up, y'know, brotha?"

A roll of his eyes later and a few pushes to the side and the sarcophagus was free, flying out of the back and flinging Ariane to the ground with a heavy thud. Her leg was trapped under it, and she swore again and again. Dean thought she would have run out of them by now. "Holy fucking shit, Dean! You could have warned me!" she shouted, shoving the thing off of her and flining her leg around to inspect it. It was injured, but nothing a little blood couldn't handle. She took out a bag and sipped it, then stood up. Fat Larry showed no reaction, guess he was cool with it. At Dean's confused look, though, Ariane explained: "Ghoul."

"Ah." Dean grabbed one end while Ari grabbed the other, and they started their way walking back to Venture. "So took you a while to get this, huh?"

Ariane growled at that, clearly still not in the best of moods. "Yeah no shit, Sherlock." She turned around to go in backwards while Chunk held the door open for them. He looked about to say something, but Ariane just glared daggers at him and he shut right up. "Fuckin' Hollywood to deal with fucking tzimisce. You know what a fucking tzimisce is?!" Dean readied a reply, but Ari cut him off. "You don't want to." She closed her eyes, suppressing a shudder that would make her drop the sarcophagus.

They maneuvered around the stairs and struggled to get it into the elevator, debating whether or not they should stand it up on its end. Either way, there was no way around it, and They just shoved it in and squeezed in after. "Then when I finally found the nosferatu, they wanted me to do even more shit for them before I could find the damn thing. I had to go to Chinatown, with fucking kue-jin, vampire hunters that made me run through tests like a guinea pig, and just one guy after another that knew another guy that could help me, as long as I did something else for them."

She ranted on after they struggled to get the sarcophagus back down on it's back and started through the halls to Princess's office. "And then once I finally got there and found freaking Barbarus, Gary told me I had to go to some necromancer clan's house party and play some politics before I could fight some zombies and some Chinese Wolverines."

When they finally get to the door of the Princess's office, Dean drops his end and opens the doors, then runs back around to grab the edge again to lift it the rest of the way. "Sounds like fun," he manages to say before he hears the pounding feet of an excited Princess.

"Is that the Ankaran Sarcophagus? Is it finally here?!" the Princess practically squeels, walking over to them quickly in his forgotten sense of composure.

"Yepparoonie, buckarroey. Where d'ya want it?" Dean asks, and Ariane glares at him as if he had taken credit for finding the blasted thing.

That's when another kindred, with a dark brown trench and weird sunglasses that shielded from those incredibly bright red eyes, stepped up. "Over by where the couches used to be, please. We've cleared a place out of the way for it, so that I may study."

The two younger kindred hauled the thing over to the side, letting it practically fall from their grasp when in place. "Shit, that was a pain in my ass," murdered Ari.

Apparently either the Princess was too excited about finally having it, or he didn't hear it, because he didn't call her out on it. Instead, he ran over to it and started running his palms over the lid in awe. "What have you assessed so far, Beckett?"

Beckett eyed him warily. "Unfortunately for the heralds of doom, it appears we won't be opening Pandora's Box. the markings, as far as I can tell, as of Assyrian origin - an extraordinary piece, but nothing earth-shattering."

LaCroix seemed to be barely holding in his excitement, however. "I see. Then there is no good reason why we shouldn't open it." He starts pushing on the lid, but fails completely to even budge it. "Beckett, do you see any mechanism for the lid?"

Beckett glared at him in exasperation. "I haven't, as yet, been able to pour over it with a fine-toothed comb. I think I have one in my bag," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Pushing harder and growing steadily frustrated, LaCroix turns to Ariane. "You! I thought you had said it was opened on the Dane. I demand you and Beckett figure out a way to open it!" He calms down a bit. "I need to know what's inside. I have other matters to attend to. Come get me when a solution has been found." And with that, he stalks back over to his desk and starts filing his paperwork once again, leaving Beckett, Ari, and Dean standing around in awkward silence.

Ari starts chatting with Beckett, talking about a professor or some shit and a kidnapping. Dean, however, is more focused on LaCroix's tantrum. Sure, he's blown up before - usually on Ari - but never like that. He takes a chance and stalks over to his desk, out of earshot of Ari and Beckett. "Hey, uh, Princess LaCroix. You doin' okay?" he lets the 'Princess' slip far too easily - he's been saying that too much in his head, he knew. There was no way he was ever going to be able to call the Prince anything else now.

"If you know what is good for you, Mister McMaron, you will refrain from addressing me as 'Princess'," he said, not even looking up from his papers.

Dean smirked. "Can't now. Still didn't answer my question." He paused, mulling over his words, which he hasn't done in a very long time. "I was just wonderin' if you were okay, what with getting the coffin finally and stuff. We have it now, so there's no reason to get all pissy. Besides, I'm sure Ari'll figure out a way to open it in no time. Sure, she's a spy, but so far she's done whatever you asked, right? Why stop now?"

LaCroix sighed. "Perhaps because her delivering the way to open the sarcophagus would ruin the Anarch movement, and she knows it?"

"Yeah, but she didn't know you needed a key or whatever to open it to start with, and she still brought it to you." As he said this, Ari and Beckett seemed to finish talking and she nodded to Dean in a goodbye before leaving the office. Becket returned his attention fully to the sarcophagus.

The Princess seemed to mull over Dean's words for a few minutes. "That is true. However I cannot fully trust your hypothesis yet. The end of this tirade is coming sooner than you may think, Mister McMaron. I will watch her movements, if you will assist me. Keep a watchful eye on her and her companions, so to speak."

"'Course, man. I've come this way with you, I ain't plannin' on switching teams anytime soon, don't worry. 'Sides, I like you better."

LaCroix gave him a half-hearted, unsure, smile before dismissing him.


A/N #2 - You guys ready for the next chapter? 'Cause I'm freaking excited to write it, something's finally happening between our two favorite characters! But I've said too much already. I'll probably update within the next week or two. (famous last words, right?)