Prelude to a Kiss

SilentTrainConductor; ... I really love hearing from you in your emails! I thought I'd said something to offend you :( , but anyhow, thanks for your lovely review and your praise! :)

This chapter is also for Evelyn Valerious, seeing as the fort part is your favourite scene (you should not have told me that!! lol I'm fretting over how to do it, to play with or not to play with it...I would hate to ruin it for you...so here's my attempt :)

Also, I was a little disheartened to discover that a couple of people that had reviewed, had not returned sob but I'm happy with you guys that have stayed. aww heck gets all emotional you guys make my day!

And this I am warning you, is a tres tres long chapter! Hope you enjoy!

I also hope that you all had a wonderful, festive christmas! And have a very Happy New Year!

Chapter 9

The nightly chill that I have become accustomed to makes itself known, and I shiver as I watch the men set up a make-do camp.

The only people not participating are my brother, Mister Burns the poor soul, Mister Chamberlain and myself. We all just sit, mutely on. Basking in the silences qwake.

Some intentionally, some involuntarily.

Rick is hauling wood around like a brute and the two Americans are preparing some kind of meal. I wait with joyous anticipation as to what they serve up. Watching them work, and the some unknown force that is halting me, is exasperating to say the least.

And my bad mood seems to be helping an awful lot.

I sigh, and then notice that one of our combined party is missing. "Where's the man with the fez, Beni isn't it?" I ask Jonathan, even though I am observing Rick and his actions. I notice that the American doesn't look over once.

"No idea old girl. Good riddance, eh?" He replies nonchalantly, feigning it after O'Connell and I saw him go a deathly shade of white after we described what we saw in that room with us hours before.

I still shudder at the thought.

We're sitting cross legged, me and my dear brother, huddled together due to the cold. We don't share much conversation or our thoughts for that matter, but there is an understanding that we don't need to. There is also the understanding that everyone, every last abled person blames me for Mister Burns', um, 'misfortune'.

I shan't be asking for Burns' opinion, afterall he cannot answer either way.

I can't deal with this blame! Just the thought that I could have prevented it...that one simple action caused all this...

I could bite my own tongue out for what I said, for what I have done; even though it is insensitive to think such things but on the other hand it might even out his losses.

I look at Mister Burns, hunched in a corner by himself; his weapons having been taken from him, seeing as they're no use to him or anyone now. I saw how the Mummy didn't really react to Rick's weapon choice, it only fell backwards, away from us...

The vision of Burn's bleeding face flashes to mind again, and I hasten to close my eyes; I cannot erase it. I know what I must do.

I pull myself to my feet, the air a slap to my senses and I can't understand how Rick and the others can work with rolled up sleeves. I make my way past the motionless camels, aware that all eyes are upon me. I hear Jon call my name and I ignore him.

I reach Burns, facing what he presumes is the northern desert and our way back to civilization. I fight back the tears as I ask-

"Mister Burns?"

He jumps, and I gently reach for his hand. His palms are sweaty, even in the freezing climate. He grips my hand tightly in return, savouring the human touch.

"Mish-mish-" He tries pathetically, his tongueless mouth unable to form my name. I watch as his blank face contorts in frustration at his disability. I feel my own face express many emotions; mainly that of self-reproach and helplessness.

"Yes, it's me, Evelyn." I fill the space for him, abandoning the Carnahan. " Would you like some company?" I continue in a soothing tone, holding his hand dearly.

If he says no, then I shall leave him in peace- I did cause him this. It is the least I can do.

I'm pulled from my thoughts and his answer by some thundering footsteps with a temper to match.

"Get the hell away from him!" bellows Daniels, spitting the words at me with enough venom to kill me where I sit. "I don't know how you have the nerve."

His eyes are burning with rage as he surveys me with pure unadulterated odium.

I slowly stand, releasing my grip from Mister Burn's hand. I can feel the responsibility swelling in my chest at his confrontational manner, as well as recognising my own stupidity at my insensitive actions. "I think it's up to Mister Burns whether I stay or not." I reply quietly, frightened but not in anyway about to allow this brute to intimidate me.

His eyesbrows tighten and his jaw sets. "I think you should-" He begins, fuming. We all snap to attention when we hear a distinct-

"HEY!"

Burns jumps, and I feel myself falling apart again at the sight of the poor soul. Daniels whips around as I turn to see Rick marching over, abandoning what he was carrying. His eyes are blazing. He stops short when he sees Burns, sitting inbetween Mister Daniels and myself.

"What's going on?" He asks, suspiciously. " Leave him in peace Evelyn. Daniels, go and help Henderson." He tells us forcefully, directing a look at me.

An, I-know-best look, minus the because you brought this about.

All I saw was Evelyn and Daniels about to have a mother of all slang matches; Evelyn, standing like she isn't about to take any shit but also timidly, her little frame shaking so that only I can see it . For the first time I see how small she is compared to Daniels. He, on the other hand is standing fists clenched, the moon leaving a nasty streak of white across his tensed face. Sweat droplets have formed on Daniels forehead, and the whole scene seems better suited in a ring than in the middle of nowhere.

Then I noticed the poor bastard sitting there, blind and mute.

I tell them to go, and watch as Daniels shoots Evelyn a glare, before brushing past me. "Tell that stupid wench to stay the hell away from him, ya got me?"

I stare at him, frozen by his words. "Don't call her that." But my voice lacks premise and authority.

"What?" He breathes in disbelief, pointing an accusatory finger. "She caused him this!"

And with that, he storms off, his steps large and his mouth cursing and spitting.

I look at the cobalt sand, unable to look at either of them.

When I had looked, Burns' face had fresh blood marks, even though his friends had cleaned him up straight after the Medjai helped him. He looked so unaware, so lowly.

I hear her shuffle in the sand so I look up, step forward and take her by the arm gently. I lead her away from him, and she allows me too like a limp rag.

"Evelyn you shouldn't antagonize Daniels, he'll give as much back as you give him." I tell her, looking into her face, trying to figure out what she was attempting by innocently giving Burns some company.

"I will do whatever I wish!" She tells me angrily, her voice blunt. "It isn't like they have bothered with him!" She points at the two other Americans who are shooting glances at us every so often. Her eyes are swelling up.

"We'll talk about this later." I tell her, sensing her distress. "Until then, I'd prefer it if you didn't bother with Burns, save the trouble, okay?" I say in hushed tones so that the destitute guy doesn't hear us.

She looks at me, her eyes gleaming, her chin crinkled, emotion passing in waves across her face.

All at once, she turns tail, and heads back towards Mister Burns. I sigh, put upon, and head back to the Americans. I know I've probably offended her, and I don't want to. I just think she needs to assess the situation. Be tactful.

"Leave it." I tell them with a meaningful gesture, when I reach them. "If she wants to talk to him, then let her."

"Why should we? It's her fault-" Begins Daniels fiercely, squaring up to me.

"We know what you damn well think." Interjects Henderson, shaking his head and putting the final wedge in the tent he was building. "But if Burns wants some goddamn company, then why can't he?"

That seems to be final, and Daniels growls at me before storming off to my fire.

I sit with Henderson, and eat what little he prepared. Jonathan makes an appearance.

"Why's-?" He asks, refering to his sister.

I shake my head, cutting him short. "Don't ask."

He sits himself down next to us. The silence is deafening, if there can be such a thing.

"So, what's after this?" He asks, wrapping his arms around himself and breaking the lack of conversation.

"Dunno." replies Henderson, baritone. His face looks really pale. I don't think he can fully accept what has happened. I mean, who could?

"We're gunna head back, pack up and-" I swallow. "I'm gonna go my way, and I'm guessin' you go yours."

"Oh." answers Jonathan, in shock. "Off to the the states?"

I nod, trying to believe what I'm saying, and believe that I want to. "Maybe."

I don't want to leave Evelyn, but it's obvious from all this what is supposed to happen.

I'm so damn confused.

We share mindless chatter, on various topics, that we don't need to think about our answers. It still can't make us forget the unearthly things we witnessed, but it's a start. Perhaps, being away from the macabre place will make it seem like a wild illusion from my imagination.

Perhaps.

I sat with Burns for a long time. I'm unsure of how long but I don't think I will ever fully understand or experience what it must be like to be thrust into darkness; unable to see the world around you or share your voice.

I wonder what it must be like, to have your last memory of vision a picture of such a living horror.

I pray that I never know.

I will never know if I helped him or not by sitting with him for those hours, by giving him human contact and comfort.

I will never forget the look on his face when I spoke to him or when I held his hand; it was like a frightened little boy being told he was safe again. Nor can I imagine the pain he has suffered and continues to suffer, I can only envisage such a ghastly ordeal.

We sat cross legged in the sand for that time under the canopy of the stars and moonlight; not that he was able to see or appreciate it. He asked me as best he could to describe it to him and I will admit that it drove me to tears as well as him. I am unsure of how one cries when they have no eyes, but I know that what he was attempting was just that and it left such an empty feeling inside me, that at that moment, I would have traded anything for him to be able to speak and see again.

Once we had conversed and shared each others company, I escorted him to the fire where the rest of the party were settled.

I firstly noticed the lynching atmosphere, secondly the two tents that had been erected.

I have no idea whom they are for, and I don't want to ask.

I sit Mister Burns next to me whispering to him all the while, trying to ease his paranoia that everyone was staring at him. We're sitting on some recognisable bits of material (from the camels I assume).

Jonathan nods at me and I am ignored by Daniels which I have to admit I was fully expecting.

As for Rick, I don't even let myself think his name.

"You and Burns can have the tents." Informs Henderson, picking at his nails and casting a glance over the fire at his friend.

Burns nods, trying to work out the direction his friend is sitting in. "Oo Igh, Ev...Ev-"

He tries, patting my hand and I close my eyes, choked for him.

"Good night Mister Burns." I reply, letting Henderson lead his friend to the tent behind him.

Chamberlain has apparently already gone to bed- a little pallet that was purchased by the American party on their trip to the City.

Jonathan sits next to me, casting me little glances. "So..." He begins, trying to get conversation passing swiftly.

The silence isn't broken, and it seems stupid that the six people who can speak, are not.

Well, I refuse to sit here and be made to feel uncomfortable. Why should I sit here, when all I am is a scapegoat and somebody to ignore?

"Good night Jon." I say, leaning over to kiss his cheek before I stand. I head to the other tent, not once looking over my shoulder, determined not to wipe the tear away that was falling down my face until I was out of view.

Out of sight, out of mind. As long as I am away from O'Connell, it shouldn't be that hard to forget him.

Evelyn has gone into her tent, and all I want is for her to be out here.

But when she's out here, she's the prey that that vulture Daniels wants to pick at.

Watching her retreating form, her hair falling down her back touselled from the wind...

I just felt like jumping up and pulling her back.

Her brother stays sitting there, admiring the fire and stare on in silence as the flap of her tent closes, and I know at that point, she was the furthest away from me she'd ever be.

Enclosed in that little tent, she was probably wondering why a jerk like me liked her, and d'you know what? I don't even know myself why all this has blown up.

I blamed her, I'll admit that but when I saw her face on that camel, when she apologized to me, suddenly all that blame diminished. All I saw was her plagued face, raw guilt that I used to experience when I was in battle. The guilt that clung to her face when she had to shoot that robed guy...

I want to ease her anxiety and make it all go away. Pinning the blame tail never solved anything. Someone needs to tell that to Daniels in my opinion.

Speak of the devil, he comes out of Burn's tent exclaiming- "Asleep."

He sits down haphazardly, then he assesses the group. "Where's the broad gone?"

Jonathan glares at him, his small body tensing at the insult; almost as though it was him who had just been insulted. "My sister retired to bed."

"Good. Just as long as I don't have to look at her." Replies Daniels flippantly.

I shake my head. "Stop blaming her Daniels."

"Listen here O'Connell, just 'cause your leadin' their lil' expedition doesn't give you the goddamn right to shout your mouth off or take charge of ours. She woke that thing up. So as far as I'm concerned she caused him this, got that?"

I open my mouth to answer, but can't think of anything to say. We're all shocked about what happened, and I don't see why we all have to argue about it.

"Shouting 'bout it ain't gonna solve anything! It ain't gunna heal Burns or send that creature back. So goddamn shut up!" yells Henderson, growling, his fists clenched were he sits. I notice that his voice was revealing the first kind of emotion that I've seen him share.

We all stop and turn to face him. His eyes are bloodshot. "You goddamn fools think I don't care? I've known him for years, and it kills me to see him like this. You don't see me arguing about blame. Least we can do is give him some peace, yeah?"

Daniels sighs and gets up, the fire flickering with his movement as he retreats to the other side of the camels.

Henderson sighs. "I'm sorry about him O'Connell. I don't blame her. I just think-" He stops, and runs a hand through his blonde hair; searching for the words. His voice comes out tired and croaky. "I dunno what I think. G'night."

I nod and return the gesture as does Jonathan who has been listening intently, confusion etched upon his face.

"D'you mind if I get fourty winks O'Connell?" He asks, yawning to prove his point. I nod absent-mindedly as the fires dying glow warms my face. I hear him nestle down, and soon all I hear are his soft snores.

I pick up a cool ember, and play with it, feeling its bark and roughened surface. I wonder what Evelyn is doing now, and I feel bad for not getting her back.

I'm lousy. I'm a jerk and I can't even convince her that what happened isn't her fault.

Safe inside the confines of my tent, I undress as best I can; I slip off my stockings and silver disc belts. I feel a lot more comfortable now, like there is less weighing me down.

If only my conscience could be undressed and do the same.

The tent is small but practical, its pale yellow, almost papyrus in colour is easy on the eye so I'm sure I will have no problem in falling asleep.

My tears subsided a while ago, but my face is still suffering the aftermath of it.

Why does he blame me? I can see it in his face and in his actions. He did warn me but I ignored him. Even though he told me it wasn't my fault I still somehow don't believe him.

I snuggle into the material that was salvaged from the city, and let my head rest against the soft pallet of camel hair. Sleep is beckoning, as is salavation from the dreadful day and brutal self punishment I have been giving myself.

It was beckoning, until I hear a hushed whisper coming from the flap of the tent.

"Evelyn, hey Evelyn."

The flap rattles and I roll over, pretending to be asleep but wanting nothing more than for him to tell me it isn't all my fault.

Selfish thing that I am.

"Evelyn. I know you're awake." I move my head and peek. I can see his disembodied head through the front of the tent. Even in the darkness, I can make out his somewhat chisled features. "I saw you roll over." He informs me, matter of factly.

"I could have been asleep." I argue back, put out, folding my freezing arms across my chest.

"Not that fast."

He opens the front fully, and coldness sweeps in. My teeth chatter. "We need to talk Evelyn." He tells me.

He's on his hands and knees, trying to see into the tent. I nod in agreement. Sitting up, I remember that I'm in in minimal attire. What does it matter anyway? I've got enough on for goodness sake. One cannot worry themselves over appearance in the desert!

His head disappears, and I crawl over my bedding until my head is sticking out of the tent.

Moonlight graces us with more than enough light to see each other by.

"What?" I ask, at his blank expression. I pull and tie the flap back, sitting myself cross legged- still inside the tent but out enough to have a conversation with him.

"Evelyn, I know everyone is blaming you and-" He shakes his head. "It isn't your fault."

He's giving everything he has into what he's saying, every ounce of genuineness, every certainty.

He's presenting his argument to me as fact, but I'm wondering if he really does think it to be my fault regardless.

"Rick..." I sigh. "Do you blame me?"

His answer is all that I give a tuppence for, and I'm not usually likened to having such a flippant attitude, but Jon doesn't blame me, and if O'Connell doesn't then that's enough for me.

Yet my insides squirm at my question, and at the possible answer.

"No." He tells me straight away, firmly. His sea blue eyes are focused, almost reading my mind. "No I don't." His tone his is almost offhand.

"But you did-" I press, determined to get blamed subconsciously. "And I can't help but feel responsible afterall I did-"

"I did blame you for not doing as I thought you should, yes to that, no to everything else." He tells me truthfully, but I can see that something has changed. "Hell, I was spooked at what happened as well, you know? I don't blame you Evelyn, not at all. We can blame anyone here if we try hard enough. I know how much you wanted to read that book and you've gained something from it. How were you to know what would happen? That Egyptologist knew and he didn't tell you. He didn't tell anyone. So we could blame him-"

I smile to myself, feeling a great amount of the guilt shift. I know that he intends to sit here all night, putting my mind at rest, listing everyone's potential fault in this...

I want her to know so much that I don't blame her. I've acted like a jerk, and I want to apologize for chucking my lot in with the other men.

I stop thinking when I see the way she's looking at me.

"I'm sorry for being a jerk-" I continue after a second.

She smiles. "No, that's perfectly all right."

I stop dead, and notice that her little gleam is back. I hope I've helped her regain what she lost today; I also hope that I have helped banish the guilt that seems intent on eating away at her.

Out of the blue, or rather literally in the blue, according to the moonlight; she leans forward, and her lips brush against my cheek for a second.

"Thank you." She whispers, before retreating back into her little tent. She closes the little flap, giving me that little coy smile of hers, and then she's gone.

In that short moment, of that little kiss...damn it.

I'm woken up by a rattling of the tent cover. If whoever that is isn't careful they are going to shift the whole tent!

"Evie."

I sigh dramatically, before sitting up; letting the covers unfold from my slightly chilled but nontheless warmed skin.

"Yes?"

"We've got to get moving dear sister."

"Oooh." I groan upon hearing Jonathans hearty laugh. His footsteps are clean in the sand, and when I hear the groaning of the camels I know that we are moving. Now.

At least, now that I have cleared everthing up with Rick, the ride back to Cairo should be a comfortable one. It feels so invigorating to know that he no longer blames me, though blame is one of the most complicated things I know of.

I went through enough with it when my parents died.

But that is besides the point.

I get ready hastily, not wanting anyone to see me in my current state. I make do the best I can, pulling on my circular belts and that, and when I emerge from the tent I am met by a strange sight.

Everything has gone, all the camels are ready and I appear to be the only person holding up everyone.

I watch as Daniels mounts, then Henderson and Chamberlain. They have already, it seems, helped Burns.

Jon toddles over to me, giving me a hug. "Sleep well?"

"Hmmm." I choose not to divulge in my diverse dreams.

I jump when I hear the tent behind me collapse, and O'Connell sweep it up. In seconds, he has packed the tent away including all the covers inside it.

He grins at my lax expression. "You sleep alright?"

"Yes fine thank you." I reply, letting Jon lead me to the camel. I get on it clumsily, as I am famed for, and sway slightly when he rises. My head is reeling.

Jon is up, nifty little man, and has his camel next to mine in seconds. "Had any run-ins with-" And I nod in his direction.

"Not with O'Connell around, no."

I smile when Rick pulls up next to me, both men either side of me like an armed guard. We press on, us leading the group back, chit chat minimal and everyone exhausted.

That ride, I have to say, was much more pleasurable than the first back. Rick and I chatted humbly about little things, neither of us mentioning the evil behind us (no, not my brother) but on that subject he was well behaved- he slept most of the time.

I take a sip from the canteen that Rick so thoughtfully gave me, and almost drop it with sheer delight at the sight before me;

the outskirts of the city.

As our camels near the front of the vast fort, its great wooden doors almost beckoning us inward, a homely smell eminating from it so great that I felt I could forget about all this is a couple of seconds...

We show our papers; after Jon finds them in his pockets. The guard raises an eye at their state, but beckons us inward. We tie up the camels, and I know that it is only a short while until I can have a nice hot bath.

I turn sharply when I hear horrific cursing, only to find Daniels scarpering with Henderson and Burns in tow.

"Where's the Egyptologist?" asks Jon plainly.

Rick shrugs in reply.

"Fancy a drink old boy?"

"Just a little one, yeah." sighs O'Connell as he heads off with my brother towards the bar. "Are you gonna be alright Evelyn?" He calls back to me.

"Fine." I reply quickly, knowing that they need a drink as much as I need a hot bath.

I head up, through the familiar staircases, getting the feeling that this is all over now.

Or at least it should be.

But even as I ascend the staircase, even as I hear my own footsteps I find myself hearing another pair behind me. I spin around, but there isn't anyone there, obviously. My imagination running riot.

I open my quarters, and smile at the familiar room- my bed, books, and clothes!

Oh, I have never been so happy to see my clothes...materialistic wants have never been my thing, but after so long in the desert!

I sigh like I have never sighed before as I rush around the room, drinking in the familiarness of my surroundings.

I go to run a bath, adding in my favourite bath scent as I do so.

Her brother sure can drink me under the table! Shot after shot, brandy after brandy and he's still going strong. I down my shot, observing him.

"You had enough?"

"I'm merely getting warmed up!" He slaps me on the back, to no effect. I shake my head as I down another shot of bourbon, and slam it down on the table.

Hell, he was right, this is good.

"I've noticed something O'Connell..." He begins, voice wavering, dropping a few octaves and then rising some.

"Yeah?"

"I think you fancy my-- sister." He grins at me, swaying almost.

Aw hell, he's quick. I can feel myself going red a little bit. "What? Jonathan-" I begin, trying to defend myself.

"No no O'Connell, I won't have you going after her. Leave her alone. You'll find some other girl tomorrow. I'm not saying you've acted on any impulses, all I'm telling you is-good job about that by the way-" He hiccups and waves a hand. "Where was I? Oh yes, and don't. Are we clear?"

He smiles. I nod, wondering if he knew. Thinking if only he knew.

I order another drink from the Bartender, and down it again.

"I'm just going to see the Americans." I tell him, getting up from my seat and passing a hand through my hair. "And your sister." I add, safely out of earshot.

I know exactly what needs to be done...I need to arrange transport, a good supply of clothing and equipment.

But I need to talk to O'Connell and Jonathan first.

I daresay that the Americans won't be joining us...but that's to be expected. I can hardly say judging from their cowardice behaviour that they would be welcomed.

Fancy causing arguments with the other team...

Burn's would have been useful, but that cannot be helped. I do hope that they can help him somehow, in some way.

Right, I need to arrange transport, that means calling the museums' head office, of course only the curator knew of us doing this freelance expedition but if it is going to be done it needs to be done properly. Of course that mummy-scared- us a tad, but this a chance of a lifetime! I'm sure O'Connell will return, and as for Jonathan, I only need to remind him of all that treasure.

I hear heavy knocks on my door, and drop some of my things in surprise.

"Yes?"

"Evelyn, it's-" He pauses. "O'Connell. Can I come in?"

I rush over to the door, compose myself and then pull it open. He's standing there, looking a lot more relaxed. He obviously had a few drinks then; thank God he isn't drunk like Jonathan would be. He smiles at me, and his eyes lock on mine. I can see that he is feeling more secure inside the fort.

"O'Connell! I've got an idea we can go back-" I begin, returning the smile.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. "No. No no no no NO!"

His face tightens, and the look he's giving me is one of pure disbelief.

"What?" I ask, deadpan, pulling a face, following him. He picks up one of the books that I left on my bed. I open my mouth to protest and tell him my idea fully, but before I can he has pulled my old suitcase up and is filling it with various contents.

If I think he is implying, what I assume he is implying then no to him! He doesn't own me or the rights to go on this trip.

"Why d'you wanna go back there? Don't you remember what happened Evelyn? It's just a thought, but don't you think we'd better stay away?" He laughs unkindly. "Besides, I thought you didn't believe in all that fairy tales and hokum stuff. Shoo!"

He waves my cat out of his way. I grab cleo, directing my dirtiest look at him.

"Well, having an encounter with a three-thousand year old walking talking corpse does tend to convert one!"

"Well forget it. We're out the door, down the hall and we're gone." He grabs my underwear from my drawers, and throws them into my travelcase. I feel my blood boil. How dare he!

"Oh no we are not." I tell him indignantly.

"Oh yes, we are." He grabs more; and the more I replace, the more he puts back into my suitcase.

"Oh no we are not, we woke him up and we are going to stop him." I call from the closet, as I get the clothing he put in my suitcase away. I open my mouth to argue when I see that more is filling it.

"'We'? What 'we'? 'We' didn't read that book. I told you not to play around with that thing- didn't I tell you not to play around with that thing?" He's getting more worked up by the second. I resist the urge to yell at him; and instead march right up to the man.

"We, we, we, I, I, I. I woke him up and I intend to stop him." I reply, grabbing some books that had been haphazardly thrown into my case and put them back onto my dresser drawers.

"Yeah? How? You heard the man, no mortal weapons can kill this guy." He puts his hands up in the air.

"Then we're going to have to find some immortal ones." I retort.

He chokes on whatever he was going to say.

"Listen to me!" I slam the case down, and upon hearing him yell arrive at the conclusion that I must have trapped his fingers between the case and its lid.

" We have to do something. Once this creature has been reborn his curse is going to spread until the whole of the earth is destroyed." I press, circling the case, following him, until I realise that he has changed direction and is following me.

"Yeah, and is that my problem?"

"Well it is everybodys problem." I frown, hands on my hips.

"Listen Evelyn, I appreciate you saving my life and all, but when I signed on I agreed to take you out there and to bring you back. And guess what, I did that. End of job, end of story, contract terminated!" He waves his finger about.

He is eminating anger, but I refuse to be scared.

"And that's all I am to you, a contract?" I ask, unable to keep the emotion out of my voice. I gaze at him strongly, and when he begins to do the same I can see him visibly fight it and turn away.

"Look, you can either tag along with me, or you can stay here, and try and save the world!" He yells, half in disbelief, waiting for my answer; poised to leave, but his eyes wanting to stay.

After a second of debating with myself and searching his face, I answer firmly. "I'm staying."

"Fine." He says, waving his arms around like a brute. The brute that he is!

"Fine." I answer back, an air of finality about it, choking on my words now.

"Fine." He gets in, before shutting the door behind him.

"Ooooh." I sigh; how dare he try and get the last word! I fold my arms across my chest.

Oh honestly. I really do want to stay in his company...

What am I saying? If he can just leave me like that then he isn't worth being around.

But he is.

And I suppose I did cause all this but I am not dwelling on that now. I need to stop him, and if O'Connell won't help then- then. Yes, then.

But, how can he have the nerve to pack my belongings and assume that I would leave the country?

Ooooh.

I guess I'd better start my research, seeing as I'm going back to Hamunaptra, alone...

Well, with Jonathan anyway.

I grab some books, stroke Cleo as she follows me out of the room and head to the Forts slapdash patio area for some peace.

Right, not as much O'Connell P.O.V there I have to admit, but more of it next chapter! hehe