I didn't normally make it a practice to kiss strange men, especially ones who are associates of Jonathan. Some men, however, are just far too easy to tease. This guy wasn't exactly easy to read, either. A brain, apparently, famous parents, top-notch education, bright future...on the other hand, he hung around with Jonathan (whose word he took all too often, it seemed), had no fashion sense, and apparently had the ability (and, perhaps, the funds) to convince the warden to release a prisoner scheduled for certain death. He had the potential to be handsome, too, if not for the stiff clothing and prim little spectacles that hid perfectly good blue eyes. He wasn't a bad kisser, either, but that was a fact I very eager to forget at the time.

The moment we stepped from the prison grounds and into the sweet clean air, Rich-Boy began interrogating me again. "So why exactly were you at Hamunaptra? How far away is it? Did you pick up any artifacts? Did you happen to notice if--"

"Slow down, buddy. Let me enjoy my freedom for a minute." I slung my arm around Jonathan and began dragging him down the street. "Isn't it fantastic to be alive, Jon?"

He looked dubious as to this fact, but agreed all the same. "Certainly, old mum. Now, why don't we just go get you cleaned up a bit, hmm?"

"You're no fun." By this time we were nearly down the street, so I let out a joyous yell and threw my arms into the air. "I'm alive! You're alive, we're alive!"

It was then that I caught sight of Jon's friend, whose disapproving stare threw a bit of shadow over my happiness. "Ms. Carnahan, I think it best that we work out the arrangements for the expedition. Can you be...presentable, by tomorrow morning?"

Something in his disparaging tone pissed me off to no end. "I think you'll find, buddy, that the conditions in the desert will quickly quash any standards of appearance that you feel our little party must uphold. And I so enjoyed the rotting-in-prison look, I was thinking of keeping my hair like this, just for you..."

He rolled his eyes at me, not bothering to hide his impatience. "I can tell this trip is going to be fun. Look, I've got tickets on hold for a boat named the Sudan that leaves at ten o'clock tomorrow morning from Giza Port. Can I assume that you will be there?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Now, Jon, I need to get cleaned up so I can meet O'Connell's standards. Might I nip a little cash from you? I'll pay you back."

"Don't bother." Jon reached into his wallet and handed me several crisp new bills. I didn't ask where he got the money, because usually I really don't want to know. "Just take a bath, Evy, please."

I kissed him on the cheek to annoy him and pocketed the bills. "I promise. Where are you staying?"

"The Oasis, on tenth. I reserved a room for you on the off chance that O'Connell actually succeeded in getting you out." He handed me a key, upon which was engraved the number 214. "We're going to stock up on the necessary supplies. I'll check up on you tonight. Don't go running off."

"I would never."

"You would always." Jonathan grimaced and glanced at O'Connell, lowering his voice. "Listen, Rick went out on a limb for us. You came this close, Evy, this close. All those stories about Hamunaptra had better damn well be true, or we could be in deep trouble."

"Dear brother," I said, "don't you worry about a thing. Oh, and do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Stock up on firearms while you're out. A few knives wouldn't be a bad idea. And see if Mr. Stone kept dad's old shotgun. I like that one."

Jonathan looked very dismal for a moment, then sighed in resignation and nodded at O'Connell. "Let's leave Evy to it, Rick. We've got a lot to do before tomorrow."

"Firearms?" O'Connell looked a bit stricken, and I knew he was wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into. "Is that really necessary?"

I held back a smile, rather enjoying his squirming. "More so than you could imagine, buddy. You'd better prepare yourself."

With that I turned and left the men to their shopping, setting out on some of my own. Though I received more than one strange look in my present state, I managed to buy some clothing in my size without the clerks dying from the lingering stench of prison life. The concierge at the Oasis gave me quite a time, too, though he knew Jonathan and therefore cut me a little slack.

As soon as I saw myself in the mirror, I understood why O'Connell had been so taken aback with my advances, feigned as they might have been. I took an extra-long bath and was mostly successful in scrubbing off the grime that had accumulated during my short state in prison. I tried on the clothes I'd bought and they fit perfectly. The shirt might have been a little low, but a bit of flair never hurt anybody. My hair, though drier than a haystack, was no longer an absolute muck. While I was at it, I decided a trim wouldn't hurt either. Split ends taken care of, on a whim I called down to get some cosmetics sent for. Maybe a little eyeliner, some foundation, perhaps a splash of perfume. Just because I wouldn't be able to keep up appearances in the desert, I thought, didn't mean I couldn't look nice on day one.

The thought that followed, something along the lines that this would certainly show O'Connell, shocked me very much.

What the hell did I care what O'Connell thought of me? I certainly cared nothing for him. He wasn't my type at all. He clearly didn't know how to live, instead choosing to hide behind books and scholastics as a substitute for people. Probably had no social skills at all, in fact. Didn't know how to dress. We'd go to Hamunaptra, dig around a bit, and get out of there as soon as possible. Two or three weeks tops, and I'd never have to see him again. He was also too tall for me. Yep.

Definitely too tall for me.

~*~*~*~

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