Author's note: So this chapter is a request by Lucy-not-Lucifer. I thought this was a really great idea, considering that Nippy and Capone just have childish squabbles most of the time. So a more serious fight sounded awesome! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: I do not own this fandom and never will.

Sometimes Larry really hated his life.

No, really, he sometimes hated it. Like right now, for instance as he watched the two new exhibits battle it out on the floor. He cursed McPhee inwardly, knowing full well that the curator was extremely pleased with the fact that he'd added new exhibits.

Now he wasn't exactly thrilled when he learned that the man had ordered a few new exhibits from the Smithsonian. AKA: Napoleon Bonaparte, Ivan the Terrible and Al Capone. While he was glad that Kahmunrah would definitely not come back, he was not happy about the new exhibits and neither were the others apparently. From what he'd heard from Octavius, Jed still had problems with being in enclosed spaces.

"Why are they even fighting?" he asked Sacagawea, who was observing the two men with dark eyes. "Do they think they're in the Smithsonian still?"

"I do not know," she answered simply. "But I believe we should let them get it out of their systems."

"If you say so," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And if anything gets broken, I'll be the one who gets blamed."

Napoleon had no idea as to why he was suddenly awake, but he knew for certain that he was angry. Angry at that stupid Capone and his stupid Italian thugs. When he first awoke at the Museum of Natural History, he was apparently still in a wrestling match with the man and was greeted with a punch to the face. Now it was the second night and he was face to face with the mobster.

"Well, well, well," Capone sneered. "Looks like French Toast here didn't learn his lesson about messing with us. Do you really want another punch to the face, you stupid sap?"

Napoleon bristled. "And do you want me to tear your eyes out, cretín? Because I have a million ideas on how to do it."

Capone snickered, along with the rest of his men. "Like you could even lift a finger on me," he boasted with arrogance. "Now, why don't you and your ladies run along and go have your tea party so the real men can have fun."

"That's funny coming from a man whose gun doesn't even work," he snarled. "At least I have a knife that can actually hurt someone! And a mind that could easily outwit yours! Your weapons were made for children!"

His men smirked at the annoyed twitch that Capone gave off. "Yeah, well at least people take me seriously," they were now circling each other, their men watching intently and the other exhibits now beginning to notice. "The only reason you're famous is because you're short."

"I AM NOT SHORT! I WAS FIVE FOOT SEVEN!" he seethed. "The damn British made that up."

"Uh-huh," Capone nodded, obviously not convinced. "But what exactly are you trying to prove here? You don't honestly believe that you can beat me in a fight, do you?"

"Brains over brawn," the Frenchman said condescendingly. "You might have a better build, but I could easily devise a plan that could outsmart you."

"Jesus, all you talk about is being smart," Capone shrugged off his coat, one of his lackeys catching it. "No wonder your first wife didn't love you enough."

Throughout the hall, there was dead silence. The anger in Napoleon's eyes darkened dangerously, his hands curling into fists. "What did you just say?" he hissed. "I dare you to repeat that."

Capone only smiled mockingly. "I may have dropped out after eighth grade, but I did do some studying in school. Your first wife obviously didn't love you enough, so she went around sleeping with other men."

"Like you were a saint!" he spat. "You slept with other women as well! And how did that turn out for you?"

Capone's eye twitched. "So I got syphilis, so what? At least I stayed faithful to my wife for the most part. You? Well I'm pretty sure you had tons of mistresses!"

"Imbecile!"

"Is that the best you've got? Not so great at come backs, are you? It's no wonder that they exiled you, seeing as how you failed everyone around you. You're probably one of the biggest failures I've ever seen."

That was it. Napoleon screeched, tackling the thug with a force that would have made any linebacker applaud. His hands wrapped around the monochromatic man's throat, legs kicking him the whole time. Capone struggled to pry him off, eventually falling over on top of him to land a punch into his nose. Cheers from all over the museum erupted as the two broke away, Napoleon taking that opportunity to give him a swift upper cut to his jaw.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Sacagawea shaking her head at them sadly, Larry next to her looking rather tired. Capone noted his distracting, punching him hard in the stomach to the point where he doubled over in pain. He did manage to strike Capone in his left eye, causing swelling to start to occur. His jaw hurt and his nose was throbbing, but he continued to fight on. If he lost, then Capone would be correct; he would be a failure.

"Give up yet?" Capone wiped some blood from his lip.

"No!" he shrieked, grabbing his dagger from his sheath.

He was about to use his dagger on the Italian, but before he could do so, the Native woman stepped in between them with a look that reminded both of them of their mothers. "Stop this," she commanded. "This ends. Now."

"Out of the way, lady," Capone laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm not done until this asshole learns his lesson."

"And I say the fighting is done," she said evenly, leaving no room for more discussion. "I thought that it would just be a small fight between two men, but obviously you intended for more," she gave Napoleon a stern glare. "So we are going to sit and cool off."

Capone shook his head. "I'm not going to sit down."

She whirled around, glaring at him while he towered over her with a good several inches. "Now," she ordered, glaring even harder. "And that wasn't a request."

Capone just stared down at her from several seconds before bowing his head, turning his face away defiantly. "Fine," he grumbled, marching over to where Napoleon was sitting. "Scary woman," he muttered under his breath.

Sacagawea sat in between them with a relaxed face, hands crossed in her lap. "Why did this all start?" she asked. "What gave you the reason to fight?"

"I don't know," Napoleon grumbled. "We were fighting in the Smithsonian and I suppose we never came to an agreement on who won."

"What he said," Capone muttered in agreement. "Though it was obvious that I was going to win."

Sacagawea ignored him. "But why the two of you?" she asked. "Ivan was a part of your fight as well. So why not include him as well?"

They both looked at each other, surprised that she would ask a question like that. Capone spoke first, clearing his throat. "I don't know," he answered. "I guess we just bickered the most and egged each other on more."

She nodded slowly. "I see," she began steadily. "Perhaps it means that you are jealous of one another," she watched in amusement as they sputtered in disbelief. "You both have qualities that the other admires. Napoleon had a more rigid, former manner while you, Capone, are more laid back. Though you really aren't that different. You both cared about your people and wanted what was best for them, right?"

They both nodded, thinking over her words for a little bit. She smiled, standing up to go meet Teddy. "If you get in another fight like that, I'll have Larry send you back to the Smithsonian," they both gave her horrified looks while she just nodded. "Don't let something like that happen again, alright?"

She and Teddy walked away arm in arm, leaving the two of them sitting on the stairs awkwardly. Napoleon glanced at Capone uneasily, glaring down at his shoes before speaking. "I am sorry," he said grumpily. "That I blackened your eye."

Capone only smirked, most of the previous anger now draining away. "I'm sorry for your nose," he replied. "And your for your jaw," he paused again, looking at the floor. "And for bringing up your wife. That wasn't your fault either. And I don't really think you're a failure."

Napoleon nodded. "I apologize for mocking the way that you died; it was not honorable. And for making fun of your weapons. It's not your fault that they don't work."

They both sat in silence for a while, none of them quite knowing what to say. That was until Capone picked up his hat and plopped it back on his head, ignoring Napoleon's surprised yelp. "I accidentally knocked this off," he said as Napoleon adjusted his prized object. "What is it with you and that hat anyway?"

"It makes me taller."

"You can't be serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Capone let out a laugh at the dead serious look on his face, all traces of tenseness fading away. "Whatever you say, Nippy."

"Don't call me that!"

Review please! If you have any ideas for future chapters then I am more than happy to do them!