Chapter Two: Where History Comes to Life

Larry sat up abruptly and kicked himself with anger. Damn it! How could he have fallen asleep? He only sat down for one minute to check his phone. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he thought.

He had rushed home frantically, bubbling with thoughts of the night to come. As soon as he was in his apartment, he had tossed that bothersome paperwork to the side- he would have much better things to occupy his time that evening. He had kept his promise to himself to call up Nicky, and they had arranged a date to have dinner together later in the week. That must have been just before he sank down onto the sofa in an excited daze and drifted off.

A soft buzzing caught Larry's attention as his phone softly vibrated beside him. It was the alarm he had set to remind him when sunset was. He glanced at his phone, which read 19:30.

Seven thirty?!

Larry groaned inwardly. How could he be so irresponsible? It was past closing time now; he'd never make it inside. All the exhibit would be having a wild time without him. Partying in the main hall, talking on the staircases and laughing together in the corridors. The front-facing windows would be blacked out, and the central globe in the entrance hall would be brightly lit. Oh, he knew all their little tricks to keep away the prying public eye.

Larry sat up straighter. He knew his way around that Museum like the back of his hand. He knew every possible entrance and exit. The main front doors, the side door for deliveries and the basement door, which was only ever used when they needed to access the storage space below the Museum, which was never.

Larry smiled to himself. His wax friends would certainly be getting a surprise tonight. A rather good one too, he hoped. After all, they would be happy to see him again, wouldn't they?

He let that worry slip from his mind. Of course, they would! And, he needed to protect them from any possible threats or disturbances. Larry grabbed his phone and his keys before slamming closed the door to his apartment.

After all, he was their nightguard.

Larry stole a quick glance at his phone.

20:07

He'd been standing outside the basement door of the Museum now for almost ten minutes. God, he felt terrified, but for the life of him he could not understand why. This was a moment he had been dreaming of for over half a decade. Nervously, he pressed his ear to the door. He could hear nothing but the very faint sound of voices coming from within the Museum's upper level.

Larry stepped back from the door and took a deep breath. He smoothed down his jacket and shuffled his feet. Then, he raised his fist and gave the door a very loud, sharp knock that rang out in the quiet night air.

Any chatter that had been going on behind the safety of the door instantly desisted. Larry heard footsteps charge towards the basement and the slam of a body hitting the door. Larry was just about to speak when another voice beat him too it.

"Um, hello? Who's there? Look, I'm sorry, but we're closed mate, and I'm on the nightshift and I'm bloody tired so if you could come back tomorrow during opening hours, that would be wonderful,"

McPhee's chronically depressive British drawl emitted from within the basement. Larry smiled to himself. He never though he would miss that sound. He cleared his throat, and McPhee's voice spoke out again.

"You've not buggered off yet? Jesus almighty, please just go away! I don't have the time for this toni- "

"Same McPhee as always," Larry quipped.

There was a clicking as the door swung open to reveal a very disgruntled-looking Doctor McPhee standing there. He looked mightily relieved to see Larry out in the chilly November air.

"Larry!"

"Doctor," Larry gave a sheepish grin.

"About bloody time! I've been so stressed lately Larry, so stressed, you would not believe," McPhee rambled as he pulled Larry into the basement.

"I can imagine," Larry said, holding back a laugh. McPhee did look in a right state, with messy hair and his still-terrible spotted bowtie undone around his collar. "So, you've been doing nightshifts now?"

"Ever since that blasted pharaoh returned with his tablet, yes. I have no idea how you did it, Larry, but by God I have new respect for you. Not that I ever really had any respect for you in the first place, but you know what I mean. They're so unbelievably hectic," McPhee burbled on as he locked the basement door.

Larry felt himself relax. Everybody was still doing O.K. "Yeah, they're a little crazy unless you know how to handle them. Treat them like people, you know?"

"They are wax." McPhee raised an eyebrow at Larry.

"Not all of them," Larry tilted his head in reasoning. He looked around the basement. Aside from a large shipment box, it hadn't changed at all. The dusty old books were still on their shelves and ancient pieces of pottery sat behind glass cases. Upstairs was still quiet, however. McPhee cocked his head in the direction of the stairs. "Better let them know it wasn't a threat, I guess," he said as he made his way towards the stairwell. He paused just before the first step.

"You know, and I never thought I'd say this, but these last few days haven't been the same without you, Larry. For me and for them,"

Larry smiled. He was just about to mount the stairs after McPhee when another person emerged from the shadows of the basement. Larry turned to look at the figure behind him and found himself staring at the familiar face of none other than Theodore Roosevelt. Teddy's moustache curled as his face formed an enormous grin. His smooth voice was steady in the darkness.

"Indeed, they haven't."

A/N: Here is chapter two! I'm sorry there's no museum gang just yet, but trust me, I'm working towards it! Meanwhile, yay Teddy!

As per usual, PLEASE leave a review- I love to read your thoughts and predictions of how this story will go. And I'm sorry that this mysterious prologue character hasn't made an appearance yet, but she will very soon. What kind of person could she be?

Thank You so much for reading!

-HarrietSilverwynd