Am SO SORRY it took me so long, midterms are hell and my computer is acting up!!! Aaargh!

Anyway, I do believe that this is my favorite chapter. You'll just die...hee hee hee...

Chapter 7

Longing

Evelyn managed to get off a short, stifled laugh. "Oh, Dr. Miller. You mean Dr. Bey's stories?"

He looked momentarily confused, but regained his composure, or what was left of it, and replied, "I mean his journal, correspondence, everything. I know about you, and the Medjai, and the Hom Dai. You might as well give it up."

This time her laugh was better acted, and she managed to sound quite amused at the whole situation. "Dr. Bey writes--I mean, well, wrote--fiction. He was working on a novel, based on the legend of Hamunaptra. He didn't believe in it anymore than I do." Or did, she thought to herself.

Dr. Miller was not swayed. "You can't fool me. Why would he use your names? You and your brother Jonathan, and that idiot O'Connell!"

Evy bristled at the insult toward her betrothed, but managed to keep her voice steady. "Dr. Bey was having trouble coming up with characters for his story, so I suggested that he use real life people. I'm in it?" she asked, trying to sound innocent and curious. The hell she wasn't a good liar!

Knowing that Evelyn was anything but innocent, Dr. Miller still looked at her suspiciously, though he'd backed off a bit. "The papers weren't all together."

"Oh, that's just Dr. Bey," she said, pretending to sigh at fond memories. "He was always a bit messy when it came to his office. He couldn't keep up with himself, his mind always going this way and that." Her features screwed up slightly. "We all miss him so terribly. I can't imagine how it must feel to have to fill the shoes of such a great man." Evy bit her lip, more to keep from laughing than out of any desire to cry.

He considered this for a moment, wondering if the librarian was insulting him or not, then turned on his heel and barked out, "I want this library clean by the time you leave today! No matter how long it takes!"

Evelyn sighed. It seemed like ages ago since she had heard those words, or nearly those words. In a sense, it had been ages. She was a different person now. She'd never be what she once was, the shy scholar with no one in the world but her trouble-making brother and her silent books to keep her company. In a sense, she had become two people. Evelyn and Rick. It scared her, to think that she might become that dependent on another person.

But it also made her feel alive.

Rick knocked on Jonathan's door a few hours later, hoping against hope that his future brother-in-law was sober this time. It would make the conversation a lot easier. He didn't know what Jonathan did with his days, but he didn't seem to be in a hurry to get back to any kind of a job. And who was Rick to talk, anyway?

It took a few minutes of pounding before Jonathan swung the door open, staring bleary-eyed out into the bright sunlight. As he focused on O'Connell he said irritably, "What the hell are you doing here, O'Connell, it's six o'clock in the morning!"
"It's almost noon."

"Oh," Jonathan said after looking at his watch. He retreated back into the room, rubbing his temples.

"Late night?" Rick asked.

"Not as late as you two lovebirds, I'm sure. The Fort is awash with gossip about you two."

"What kind of gossip?"

"Gossip that Evy wouldn't want to hear, so I'm not going to repeat it. God, my head!" He fumbled to open the medicine cabinet, but, finding it empty, settled for a forgotten bottle of whiskey resting precariously on the toilet seat. Rick snatched it out of his hands and steered Jonathan out of the bathroom. "There's something I need to tell you. Well, ask you."

"Shoot," Jonathan said. "Metaphorically!" he added quickly.

"How would you feel about me marrying your sister?"

Jonathan spun around so fast that he caught his toe on the rug and ended up in a heap on the ground. He was definitely Evelyn's brother. "What? Well, hell, O'Connell, that's great!" he sputtered as he picked himself up. "So it was true, what they've been saying."

"What have 'they' been saying?"

"That Rick O'Connell's gone soft."

He danced out of Rick's reach just in time. "Just kidding, O'Connell, for goodness sake-"

Jonathan went flying again. His fall was not due in any part to Rick, but rather, caused by the very same rug that had felled him moments before. "Damn carpet!" Jonathan cried, still on the floor. "I don't know why I even have the damned thing, it just gets in my way."

"Then move it." Ever the voice of reason.

"You're bloody right I'll move it, I'll move it right through the window!" Jonathan struggled to his feet, the rug crushed in his arms. As he moved forward he stumbled again, barely managing to keep his balance this time. "Bloody hell-"

"Maybe this should be a lesson for you."

"Yeah, in what?" Jonathan suddenly seemed distracted. He was staring at the floor.

"Like life is a whole lot easier when you're not hung over all the time."

Jonathan's face lit up. "And life is a hell of a lot easier when you're rich, too!"

What? Maybe Jonathan was still drunk, Rick thought as he watched the Englishman throw the rug aside and begin to pry at a floorboard. "What the hell-" he began, but was interrupted by the excited speech of Jonathan.

"I'm so stupid! What a horrible place to hide treasure! I've never used this spot before, that's why I couldn't remember where I'd put it! I knew I wasn't hallucinating!" The floorboard began to come loose. Rick knelt down to help, more to humor Jonathan than anything else.

They pulled the board away and stared, dumbstruck, down at the magnificent pile of gold.

By the time Evelyn had managed to get most of the books into neat, somewhat organized stacks, it was nearly eight o'clock in the evening. How had time gone by so quickly, she wondered? Rick must be wondering what happened to her. She didn't normally stay this late--

"Evelyn?" Rick crept into the shadowy library. He held his gun in front of him, but quickly put it away once he realized that she wasn't dead or maimed or kidnapped.

"Rick!" she cried. "What are you doing here?" Finally, a bright spot to her day. Well, night.

"Jonathan and I have been worried sick about you."

How sweet! "I'm so sorry. Dr. Miller practically ordered me to get this place clean by the time I left, and I just lost track of time."

Rick's face darkened at the mention of the curator. "You shouldn't stay so late, it's dangerous at night."

"The museum's locked up at five, it's fairly secure--wait a minute. How did you get in?"

Rick looked sheepish. "I found a way."

"You didn't destroy anything, did you?"

"No!...I don't think. Anyway, I don't want you walking back all by yourself at night. Cairo isn't exactly safe, even during the day."

Evy was torn between being flattered that he was concerned for her safety and being indignant that he thought she couldn't take care of herself. Being Evelyn, she chose the latter. "And who are you to tell me that, O'Connell? I walk those streets every night, I don't need your protection all the time."

The expression on his face was one of hurt. "Well, we'll just have to do something about that."

"What? What do you mean?"

Rick pulled Evy closer, the look of hurt gone. "I'm saying, maybe when I'm actually your husband you might obey me every once in a while."

"Fat chance," she shot back.

He smiled. "Which part?"

"What do you mean which part?"

"Let's get married."

"I thought we'd established that last night."

"No, I mean let's get married now."

"It's eight o'clock in the evening."

"Not now, now, I mean...soon."

"How soon?"

"How soon do you want?"

Evy thought for a moment, to torture him. "Well, there's invitations, and a dress, and you'll need a tuxedo, and we'll need a hall and a church and a cake-" Rick looked pained. "What? You don't want cake?" she teased.

"Whatever you want."

"Rick, I..." What did she want? She didn't want to rush into anything--what was she saying? She'd already agreed to marry a man she'd only known for two weeks, how much more hasty could you get? "A month," she said, sounding a bit more determined than she felt.

"A month?"

"Yes, a month. A good, round number."

"Now I see why you weren't any good at math. A month isn't a number, darling."

Before she could protest he kissed her. She hated it when he did that! When Rick broke away (Evelyn hated that, too), he pulled something wrapped in a cloth out of his jacket. "I need to show you something."

"What's that?" she asked. The cloth fell away to reveal a four inch high statue of the god Anubis. They sold them at the museum gift shop, hundreds of them. Why was Rick showing it to her? Then she noticed how the light glinted off the golden surface, the weight, the tiny hieroglyphics etched across the headdress...my God, this was real! "Where did you get this?" she breathed.

"If you agree to go home I might tell you."

"It was getting late anyway. So where's it from?"

"Actually, I think I'd better show you."

Evy grabbed her sweater and had began to follow Rick out of the library when Dr. Miller strode in once again, pushing the doors open with such force that they hit the walls with a loud clatter. Rick quickly slipped the statue in his back pocket. Evy thought maybe Dr. Miller had seen, and she was quite sure that she didn't want him knowing anything about that statue. He gave no indication that anything was amiss, though, and simply barked, "Why isn't the library clean yet?"

"I've been working all day, Dr. Miller-"

"And I thought I told you-"

"Ms. Carnahan and I have a prior commitment, sir," Rick interrupted, oozing fake politeness. "Besides, it's after hours. We wouldn't want something happening to her walking home by herself so late at night, would we?" Rick took Evelyn's hand and pulled her after him out of the room. She could practically hear Dr. Miller's unspoken fuming as they slipped past him and walked quickly out of the Museum.

By the time they reached Jonathan's apartment Evelyn felt as though she might burst from curiosity. Rick had kept his mouth shut, save for a few choice words about a certain curator. "It'll be much better as a surprise," he insisted.

Jonathan met them in the hallway. He seemed positively giddy as he drug Evy through the doorway. The only thing that got Jonathan that animated was--

Treasure. Gold. Jewels. Spread out across the bed, spilling onto the nightstand and across the desk. Tiny trinkets lined with precious stones, solid gold figurines, shiny bracelets and necklaces, more coins than Evelyn had ever seen in her life. Everything was small, but each piece alone must be worth-

"Evy?" "Evelyn?"

She was speechless. For once, Evelyn Carnahan was absolutely, totally, at a loss for words. Rick seemed to notice this and decided to fill in the details. "It seems my buddy Beni left us a little surprise in the saddlebags. When your brother found it, he got drunk and hid it, and then he couldn't remember where he'd put it."

"And you thought I was delusional!" Jonathan cried happily. "How wrong you were, old chap!"

"Indeed," Evelyn whispered. "My God, what a find. The Museum will-"

"The Museum?!" Jonathan was panic-stricken. "If you think for one moment that I'm going to let a museum have my treasure-"

"Oh, would you calm down, Jonathan! I was going to say that the British Museum would no doubt pay dearly to have this. Not to mention private collectors-"

"We're rich!" Jonathan exclaimed, fears assuaged. "We'll never have to worry about money again!"

Evelyn eyed her brother accusingly. "You wouldn't be worrying right now if you hadn't drunk away your trust fund." But Jonathan's spirits were not dampened in the slightest. He grabbed Evy's hands and spun her around, and by the end of it neither Rick nor Evy could help but join in his joyous laughter.

They'd decided, much to Jonathan's dismay, that his hands were probably not the most secure place to keep the treasure. (As Rick had put it, "I'd trust you with my life, Jonathan. But not with my treasure.") Evy suggested the safe in her room. It was one of the few things she'd kept from her father's Cairo study. Hers and Jonathan's childhood drawings still sat in it, undisturbed since the day her father had placed them there. She thought most of the treasure would probably fit in it, and not even Jonathan knew the combination.

Rick helped her carry it into her room, then moved slowly to the door. She followed him, and they stood there, in the threshold, neither of them speaking. Evelyn didn't quite know why, all she knew was that she didn't want to leave this moment.

It was obvious that Rick didn't want it to end either. The silence stretched between them, but neither one felt uncomfortable. Rick took the time to study the angel in front of him. How could any one person be so perfect? How could someone like her love him? He was her antithesis, her complete opposite. They were both quite stubborn, he amended, but usually that didn't help a relationship any.

Evelyn's thoughts were running along much the same lines. How on earth had she been so lucky as to find this man? She felt as though she had been given some precious gift, and every time she looked into his eyes her heart leapt with pure joy. And for that matter, what kind of a miracle was it that he loved her back?

"I suppose we should say goodnight now," he said, quietly, deeply, almost hoping that she wouldn't hear him.

"I suppose." She paused, fingering the buttons on his shirt. "Nice buttons."

Rick smiled. "Thanks. Jonathan picked this shirt out."

"Way to ruin the mood, O'Connell."

He raised his eyebrows. "Mood? I wasn't aware of any mood, Carnahan."

Evelyn laughed. Rick loved to hear her laugh. It bubbled out of her slender throat, glittering in the night air as her delicate breaths crystallized in the cold. They stood so close that the clouds of breath blended together, slowly curling up and out into nothing. "Well, if you feel that way," she started--

As the kiss went on the clouds of breath slowly melted into the atmosphere, dissipating until there was nothing left but the cold, clear air. Nothing left but two lovers caught up in a single moment. But then, something was wrong. Stabbing pains, blasting through his head like gunshots, ringing in his ears. With a slight cry Rick broke away from Evelyn, clutching his head.

Evelyn was startled, to say the least. What was wrong? What had she done? Rick stumbled away from her, grabbing for purchase on a tabletop, losing his hold and crashing to the floor. His head was about to explode, then...

Nothing. Peace.

Evelyn reached for Rick as he stood, but he swatted her away and turned to the opposite wall. "Rick? Rick, what's wrong?" she said timidly, reaching for him again. Then he spun around, his eyes strangely blank. He said something in ancient Egyptian... Rick didn't know any ancient Egyptian, Evy thought frantically, before her mind wrapped around the words...

...It is time to make you mine...for all eternity...

Then he collapsed again, body falling completely limp as he dropped to the ground.

Because Evy was not exactly strong enough to move Rick anywhere, he remained on the floor until he came to a few minutes later. "What--what happened?" he stuttered. He remembered...kissing Evelyn, then the most unbearable pain tearing through his skull...

"You passed out," she said quietly.

Slightly embarrassed at that rather obvious fact, he said, "Yeah, but...before that. My head..."

"You don't remember?" Concern furrowed her brow, but she was thinking about something else. "You don't remember what you said to me?"

"All I remember is this horrible pain in my head, and then...nothing."

Before Evy had a chance to reply, there was a knock at the door. In her mind a picture of Imhotep flashed, but that was ridiculous. She wasn't dreaming.

At the door stood three policemen. One of them said something in Arabic, but as they pulled Rick off the floor and away and out of the apartment, Evelyn was too distraught to translate.

It was most certainly not a dream.

It was a nightmare.

***

Hmm...when will I update next?...as always, keep reviewing...can't wait to see what you think of this one...