Author's note: Thanks for the reviews you guys! It kind of saddens me that there aren't a whole lot of reviews for this story, but for all the reviews I have, I'm so grateful for your reactions. You guys are awesome and I just want you to know that! And as a reminder, I am taking chapter requests, so if you have an idea for a chapter, feel free to share.

Now, to thank the reviewers!

Every Wolf Has It's Howl- Thanks for the idea in chapter three! I'm really happy with how that chapter turned out!

AdminElrohir- I'm glad you're enjoying the story! I hope to see more of your reviews in the future!

Guest 1 (Don't know if you're the same person as Guest 2)- Thank you for reviewing! I'm happy you're enjoying the story! There will only be a few OCs, but none of them will be romantically involved with Capone or Napoleon.

Guest 2- Thanks for the review! I tried to keep the characters in character, though I will admit it's kind of a challenge but it is one that I enjoy doing. I think a lot of people could upload stories with just the movie characters and not ones with OCs, but I digress. I hope you stick with the story!

RedRosing- I'm so glad you're enjoying this because I am too :3 Thank you very much for reviewing!

Mybffisanalaca- I will eventually come up with a more sound reason as to why Napoleon hates Les Miserables and maybe I'll do one where Capone finds his hat. I'm glad you're enjoying this and updates will be coming!

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: I do not own Night at the Museum. All rights go to Shawn Levy and everyone else who created it.

To say Napoleon was a little bit of a perfectionist would be a lie. He was a huge perfectionist. Everything had to be done to the best of efforts, only doing priority tasks first and the less taxing ones later. While most exhibits wondered how his own soldiers could put up with him, they would only shrug and say that if they were in their shoes, they would get used to it.

Everything with him had certain flair to it, and when that flair was disturbed, things could get, well, interesting. Like right now, for example. He had been walking through the halls, looking for one of his soldier's who was missing, and found him holding hands with one of the Puritan girls.

This in itself was a surprise; seeing as how his soldiers were with him most of the time. He wasn't necessarily angry at the soldier, but annoyed with the fact that he hadn't bothered to tell him that he was seeing someone. If there was romance going around, he wanted to know about it!

"How could you not tell me?" he complained, noting the soldier's face turning red. "I thought you trusted me!"

The soldier shook his hands, holding his hands up in a surrender sign. "No, no, Empereur," he flushed even harder. "I trust you very much!"

"Quand at-il commence?" he asked the girl but only received a confused look. He sighed, grumbling inward to himself that everyone should speak French. "When did you two start seeing each other?"

The girl only shook her head. "A few months ago," she said in a gentle voice. "Alain offered to walk me back to my display and we've begun seeing each other ever since."

"What's your name?"

"Mary Williams, sir."

Napoleon smiled at her, impressed that she knew her manners. Just the other day he had encountered some very rude young ladies during the Museum's night tours. "You may continue seeing, Mademoiselle Marie, but I want to know every single romantic detail you have!"

Alain nodded curtly, face still pink. "Oui, monsieur!"

He walked away at that point, giddy with the fact that romance was blooming in the air. Most people and exhibits would probably find it odd that he was happy over the integrity of romance, but he would only shrug it off, saying that all French people do. Whether or not that was true, he didn't really care. He loved romance and was not ashamed to admit it. If the museum was playing a romantic film, he would be there, tearing up at every single heartbreaking moment.

Although the last time a romantic movie played, Jedidiah had insisted on throwing popcorn at the screen, so he ordered his men to escort the cowboy out. No one was going to ruin The Notebook while he was in the room!

"You sure do act like a dame, you know that?"

He whirled around, glaring intently up at Capone. "I do not!" he protested. "I am very much a man, I assure you."

"Yes, because most men love romance," the American-Italian mobster crossed his arms. "Are you sure you secretly aren't a girl?"

His face flushed red at the merest suggestion of that comment. "All us French love amour!" he was practically standing chest to chest with the monochrome man. "And why would you say something so stupide?"

"I'm just saying that it takes a shot out of your manliness," the man smirked down at him. "I could tell everyone about your secret stash of 50 Shades of Grey novels."

"You…how do you know about that?"

"I've seen you read them, obviously."

He narrowed his eyes threateningly. "You wouldn't dare," he snarled. "If my men found out…"

"Relax, I won't tell 'em," the man grinned. "Yet."

"Yet?"

He shrugged. "If you don't do anything to make me mad, of course. And to make things even more interesting, I can tell everyone that Jaws scared the living daylights out of you!"

He threw his hands up in the air, almost ready to throw a punch at the gangster. "Why are you doing this to me?" he cried, earning confused looks from the Huns nearby. "Must you insist on acting like an imbecile?"

Capone rolled his eyes. "Don't get your knickers in a twist," his smirk grew even wider. "French Toast."

"…What did you just call me?"

"French. Toast. What are you going to do about it?"

The next ten minutes resulted in the two of them tangled up on the floor fighting like cats and dogs, the Huns cheering and placing bets on who would win. That was, until Larry showed up and grounded all of them to their exhibit displays.

When Alain and Mary decided to exchange vows, the first person they went to was him. Napoleon had been more than happy to help organize the event. Mary wanted things to be simple, nothing to elaborate, so he unfortunately had to do what she wanted. Everyone in the Museum was excited for the first ever wedding that was about to take place, but none were as excited as he was.

The couple couldn't have rings, for that would look odd on their displays, but Larry did bring in two Ring-pops to make up for that. The event itself was quite nice, Mary wore a simple white dress with a veil placed in her hair and Alain took his hat off for the occasion. Napoleon stood near him, looking as tall and proud as he usually looked. Metaphorically speaking, anyway.

Celebration was held afterwards, with Mary promising him to learn French so that she could better understand him when he blessed her. As the couple danced for the first time, he felt Capone nudge him in the shoulder. "I'm surprised," Capone began, looking mystified. "Since she is technically a Brit, why are you letting him marry her?"

"Because she views herself as more American than British," he reasoned. "And because her people left Britain."

"Is that all?"

"And because I'm sure Alain would still marry her even if I said no," he smiled proudly. "We French are proud like that."

Capone just shook his head. "If you say so," he passed him a drink. "Thirsty?"

"Merci," he replied, taking the beverage, believing it to be wine. When he realized it wasn't, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Qu'est-ce que c'est? Is this…Fruit Punch?"

Capone laughed, tilting his head back as if this were the most funniest thing in the world. "Yes," he grinned wolfishly. "Alcohol is a man's drink, after all."

"YOU!"

"I'm just pulling your leg," he handed him another glass, this time filled with actual wine. "Here you go."

He glared irritably at the Italian, taking a long sip before setting it down. "Just because I am short does not mean that I am a child!"

"Whatever, Nippy."

He stood up, standing tall as he addressed the Italian with open arms. "Quit calling me that!" he exclaimed, waving his arms a little. "My name is Napoleon! Say it with me: Na-po-leon!"

"Uh, Nippy?" Capone started, nodding to something that had fallen in his arms while he was ranting. "You might want to look down."

He looked down, flushing pink as Mary's bouquet had landed into his arms. He almost wanted to shrink as some of the exhibit females glared murderously at him, all of them apparently wanting to catch it. Capone had stood up by that point, chuckling quietly.

"Looks like you're next," he laughed, patting his shoulder as he walked past. "Wonder who it'll be."

His face only flushed darker, handing it to the nearest girl and quickly escaped the scene. However, handing the bouquet to the girl didn't really solve his problem. For the rest of the evening, he received death glares from the girls.

Maybe weddings and romance wasn't such a great thing after all…

I just got a new copy of the second movie and while watching it, Napoleon mentioned that all French people loved romance. We all know that is not true, but I wanted to play off it a little. Anyway, review please! I will be updating my other story soon so if you want, go check it out!

Translations:

Mademoiselle- French for Miss

Monsieur- French for Sir

Oui- French for yes

Amour- French for love

Merci- French for Thank you

Qu'est-ce que c'est- French for What is this?