The streets were still, the walls tinted sapphire blue whilst the dusty ground was pale silver thanks to the moon. Complete darkness was mercifully only found in a few narrow streets and small corners, and as Jonathan stared out through the window he was almost quite convinced that those pockets of black were too small to conceal a mummy. As he looked with a slightly nervous twitch he considered that the mummy probably had a certain knack for hiding in the dark, after all the creature had spent centuries adjusting to total blackness. He pondered if perhaps the creature could squeeze itself into a tiny patch of shadow so that it could have complete surprise before coming for someone's organs.

The Englishman snapped the wooden shutter closed, banishing the window in a moment of alarm before glancing sharply over his shoulder to see if he had disturbed his companions. Only the Pharaoh Hound had stirred and was now looking at him accusingly, annoyed but not startled enough to even bother standing. Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, the dog let out a yawn and lay its head back on the stone floor.

"Well I suppose I didn't open a cursed chest or read a spell from an ancient book," Jonathan grumbled to himself as he walked away from the window, pausing at a couch to look at its occupants with a slight frown. 'It must be nice to sleep despite all this danger,' he thought sardonically before his blue gaze flickered to the empty glasses on the table and the empty bottle of whiskey between them. 'That probably helped,' he decided as he moved to take a seat opposite them. "Well I'll stay guard then," he addressed the dog quietly with a nod. His frown deepened as he was almost quite certain that the ungrateful hound rolled its amber eyes in response. The Englishman smiled then and shook his head at such a thought. 'Trick of the light,' he assured himself, 'dogs don't roll their eyes.'

He leaned back in the couch slightly and lifted his legs onto it. "Only getting comfortable," he grumbled with another glare at the dog, "but I'm still alert, impossible to sleep with a mummy out there. At least it should be, as well I'm here to guard." His gaze darted over to the pair opposite him once more.

David Daniels, a Texan, who in Jonathan's opinion had all the subtly of a drill sergeant and the manners to boot, was passed out rather than asleep, his upturned face hidden beneath his crooked, grey fedora. He lay across the sofa, hands crossed over his muscular chest, his right arm bent in an awkward shape, free from its makeshift leather sling but evidently still in discomfort. His legs were slouched up slightly to accommodate for the couch's other occupant in a manner that would probably cause him great discomfort when he awoke. Jessica Thornwood was the other occupant, a scruffy looking woman, Jonathan liked to think of her as a diamond in the rough, she looked like the thief she acted as and yet she was of, as his uptight grandmother used to say, the good blood, daughter of a lord and lady of English and Irish heritage. Even now Jonathan couldn't really place her role in this; she was caught in the Americans' curse, doomed by her own greed evidently, whilst she had been in the city of the dead seeking something to do with the chaos god Set. The Englishman understood all that, her father had found a temple to the god once and brought a terrible curse upon his family and now only Jess remained of the Thornwoods but what Jonathan couldn't gather was how that tied into Hamunaptra. She had babbled about clearing her father's name and ending the curse but he couldn't imagine how.

Jonathan wondered if she had been seeking something in the city of the dead to somehow end Set's curse and supposed she hadn't found it. But how long had she been searching? Hadn't the Thornwood's tragedy occurred eight years ago? He frowned again, how long had she been alone in the streets of Cairo? He felt his eyelids grow heavy; perhaps it would be better if he shut them, yes; focus on using just one sense to conserve energy. He would hear any would be intruder; he had always had excellent hearing.

'Bloody Americans caused all this,' Jonathan thought crossly, 'I just wanted a nice pocketful of gold and some ancient jewellery, was that so much to ask? Why did they have to take the damn thing's sacred organ jars? I doubt he would've minded the loss of a necklace quite so much, wouldn't even have to be his, I'd have settled for any priest's jewellery. And why did my sister have to read from that book? Why was that book even there? They promised a book of gold, much nicer, bet that wouldn't have cursed anyone.'

Ten minutes later and Jonathan's happy snores joined Daniels' laboured ones. Anu lifted his head at the noise before giving it a shake as he accepted the sound as unthreatening and settled back to sleep once more.

KNOCK! KNOCK! Jess' eyes snapped open at the sound, a deep, low beat on the wooden front door. For a moment she was confused about her surroundings and the origin of the noise. When it sounded again she sat up, slowly and still puzzled, her eyes flickering from Daniels to Jonathan as she pushed back her messy hair with one hand. KNOCK! KNOCK! Her golden-brown stare flickered across the dark room to the door accusingly. What time was it? Was it late? Early? Who could be out there? Someone for Jonathan?

"Jessie." The voice called softly from behind the door, light, sweet and full of warmth and promise. "Jessie my little bunny let me in."

The woman stumbled to her feet as if still caught in a dream. The voice sounded so real and that pet name brought back a flood of happy memories. There was a small voice in her head that tried to warn her that this couldn't possibly be real, that it had to be a trap but too much of her was desperate for hope now, too strong was the desire to believe that it was possible.

"Jessie, let me in darling."

Just behind the door, until she opened it anything was possible. The woman stopped before it, tired, confused and coated with goosebumps from the evening chill. She raised a shaking right hand to the brass key, still in the lock, and turned it.

"Beautiful little bunny I'm almost home."

Home? That wasn't right, was it? Her hand fumbled at the door handle and for a moment she froze as she started to consider the reality of the situation.

"Jessie."

It was definitely her voice, no poor copy, no similar mimic, it was her, Jess was certain. It was a voice that plagued her nightmares and made her dreams all the more pleasurable though her waking hours then became a torment as they took the voice from her. She pulled the handle down and opened the door.

A figure stood at the open doorway, a couple of inches taller than Jess, and thinner too with a willowy frame. It was a body lost beneath skirts of velvet and silks with a matching jacket and a shirt, all of which were old, rotted and stained with blood. The face held all the horror to it, even in the faint light of the night its wrongness was plain to see. Had it been turned away Jess might have let herself be fooled but no matter how much she wanted to she could not make the mutilated image soften in her gaze. The doe like, brown eyes, once so full of tenderness and love were gone, stabbed out years ago to leave bloody sockets in their place and that honeyed smile, that beautiful grin that was once a precious reward to a behaved daughter had been ripped apart, forced outwards to a ghoulish grin that revealed the now decayed and blood soaked insides of formerly rosy cheeks.

A click of a gun sounded in Jess' left ear as Daniels' nozzle appeared over her shoulder. The Texan's first instinct was to shoot naturally but he remembered suddenly what Chamberlain had said about Mrs. Thornwood being blinded and grinning from ear to ear. The man filled with a new horror as he didn't know what to think or do as he gazed at the ghoulish figure, which given its condition, certainly shouldn't be up and walking about. He finally snapped into action, pulling Jess back with one sharp yank before he slammed shut the door, and immediately locked it again.

KNOCK! KNOCK! The rapping came almost instantaneously. "Jessie, little bunny, let me in," the voice called with a hint of impatience to it now.

"Mother." Jess spoke the word with an obvious desperation and longing as her eyes burned with tears.

"That is not your mother," Daniels snapped at her darkly as he jerked her back from the closed door, a little more forcefully this time as he feared her unlocking it again. He turned her from the door, ready to berate her for what seemed like obvious stupidity but his anger was stilled when he saw the sorrow glistening in her eyes. The Texan realised then the simplicity of her curse, to play on a lonely girl's longing for her beloved family, he supposed there were not many who could resist such a cruel ploy.

KNOCK! KNOCK! "Let me in bunny, let me hug you close."

"You hear it then?" Jess queried hoarsely as she looked to Daniels, her eyes twinkling with a mad desperation.

He nodded sombrely and grumbled, "I hear something."

"I wondered for a time if it was just me," she murmured, "I thought it a curse, then madness for a while but then I knew it had to be real. They're restless I think."

"No," Daniels argued with an angry shake of his head. KNOCK! KNOCK! He looked to the door accusingly wondering why the thing didn't just try to intrude. "This is fucked up," he muttered. He gestured to the door with his gun and growled, "that...well I don't know what that is but I know what it ain't and it ain't your mother."

"Little bunny aren't you lonely? Don't you miss your mother's hugs?" the voice called out anxiously.

Jess looked to the door with a mixture of horror and disbelief. "If it isn't her why does it have her voice?" she queried quietly.

The pair jumped as another banging sounded, fiercer than the one at the door it came at the shutters and was loud enough to disturb Jonathan from his slumber. Anu, who had come awake at the knocking at the door, now jolted up with a defensive snarl whilst Jonathan fell off the couch with an inelegant bang to the floor.

"What in heavens is going on?" the Englishman snapped as the shutters shook with each blow.

"They can't come in," Jess murmured as she looked to the shutters warily, "well they never have, they seem to want me to go to them rather than they come to me."

"God damn it, God damn it," Daniels muttered under his breath as he aimed his Colt at the shutters before turning back to the door as it was knocked again.

"Who's out there making all that racket at this hour?" Jonathan queried in irritation as he stood up at last and dusted down his jacket. He suddenly looked nervous as he thought of the people who might call upon his home at irregular hours. "Look if they're wanting money they've got the wrong house, I've already explained that!" he snapped as he gestured his hand out towards the door helplessly. "And if it's Ruby I've already told her we can't meet here, Evie gets prickly about these things."

"Really Jonathan?" Jess queried dryly as she gave him a look of disbelief.

"David..."

Daniels suddenly froze and paled at the voice that came through the shutters, his indigo eyes darting over to it in disbelief.

"David it's cold and dark out here, don't be unkind, let me in."

Daniels moved to the shutters quickly before either Jess or Jonathan could react. He yanked up the wooden pins that held them in place and flung them open, not caring how impossible this could be just knowing that he had to see the source of that voice. It had been so terribly long since he had last heard it, so many months of drowning out those last feeble whimpers with whiskey and beer.

Daniels face turned stark white at the sight that greeted him, a woman, his ranch beauty, only she wasn't the soft featured, porcelain belle he remembered no it was worse, she was the woman who possessed his nightmares not his dreams.

"Bethany?" he choked out her name, hating how it sounded now on his tongue like some wicked thing to be forgotten.

She offered him a smile only it wasn't the secretive, small grin she usually gave him, marred by the bloody swelling at her lips and the bruising about her jaw. She was wearing the same clothes she had been donning when she had died in his arms, a cream, silk blouse, torn asunder, buttons all missing, patchy with blood and hanging off her shoulders, and a skirt of royal blue linen forced up the leg, ripped up the side in the process. Her throat was red from where the final blow had been dealt but her exposed chest bore marks too, shallower cuts and bruising, all turned shades of blue and black in the night.

Her hand reached out to him, cold and sticky as it pressed against his right cheek and her dead, green eyes met his. They weren't the emerald jewels he recalled; rather they were like the dried muck of a swamp, green with poison and void of life. "Come outside love and put your arms around me, it's so cold out here."

BANG!

Daniels didn't even realise Jess had taken his other gun until it was already drawn and shot clumsily at Bethany's disturbing form. The undead woman backed from the window with a hiss and a howl of agony as the bullet struck against the side of her cheek, tearing a neat hole in it. Daniels just stood staring, dumb for a moment, as he saw no blood pooling at the wound, nor did Bethany react to it with any sense of pain, just anger.

Jess darted forward and slammed the wooden shutters closed, locking them into place with a pant of relief. It was as she started to turn that she found Daniels' hands upon her, shaking her violently as he shouted obscenities at her. "What the hell did you do that for?! Did I shoot your mother?!"

Jonathan moved to separate the two, pausing at Daniels' curious words with a troubled look.

"If that wasn't my mother then that wasn't your fiancée!" Jess shrieked back at him defiantly as she tried to wrench herself free from his hands. In a sly move she slammed his own gun into his still tender arm causing him to release her with a yelp of pain. "That wasn't her!" she snapped. "It's this damn curse! I told you to let me go alone, a mummy's bad enough but this..." She trailed off with a look of despair and sighed.

"What is this?" Daniels demanded, his eyes filled with fear and anger alike as he clutched at his arm with his free hand. "What did you take from that city? Why is this chaos god so pissed with you?"

"I didn't take anything," she retorted with a glower. "What I was seeking wasn't where it should have been."

"Didn't you take that sickle?" Jonathan piped up, wincing as Jess turned her glower on him. He remained back from the action, even more clueless than Daniels as to what was going on and attempting to tell himself that somehow it was all just a bad dream though he knew it couldn't be. After all, Jonathan's nightmares usually involved sweaty, pig eyed debt collectors or jealous husbands, richer than thought with muscular men in their pay, not the rotting apparitions of women he did not know.

"Yes but he doesn't care about that," Jess grumbled.

"Well what then is his concern if you didn't get what you wanted?" the American demanded.

"Someone else got it," Jess answered hotly, "and he fears I might yet use it." She shrugged. "Or so I suppose, maybe he just torments me because I alone survived the Thornwood curse."

"The book," Jonathan guessed as his blue eyes widened.

Jess nodded at him with a small, betraying scowl. She knew there was no point in denying it or being evasive about it, what did it matter now? It was too late now for anyone to consider that tampering with the book was a bad idea.

"Wait, were you intending on going after that today?" Daniels demanded. "Is that why you insisted on leaving the fort?"

"Well I needed a bath too," Jess answered crossly as her fierce stare returned to him, "but yes."

"You could've said," Jonathan remarked with a wounded look, "we would have helped."

"Really?" she queried sarcastically. "You two would have helped me roam the city with a mummy on the loose seeking a book that raised said mummy?"

"Well...when you put it like that," Jonathan murmured. "How about we would have tried to help the good Dr. Chamberlain?" Try as he might he could not muster any sincerity to his face at those words, fellow Englishman or not, even Jonathan considered the briefly met Egyptologist to be a cowardly ass. 'Man could have helped us,' he thought moodily, 'he's an Egyptologist for goodness' sake, he ought to know a bit about stopping this curse if anyone does!'

"Hell no," Daniels answered sternly, "because, as has been demonstrated, no bloody good can come from that book." If the American felt any loss over his former companion who had fled with the book once they had reached Cairo he had never shown or expressed it, save to grumble that the 'English prick probably sold his monkey trinket for a place to hide'.

"Only if you don't know what you're reading from it!" Jess protested as she gave him a defiant look.

"David where are you, I hear horses coming I'm scared!"

Daniels tensed again at the voice and looked to the shutters accusingly. "How do we get rid of that?" he demanded angrily.

"I don't know," Jess retorted quietly, looking miserable once more as the front door was knocked again.

"Little bunny let me kiss the bad dreams away," her mother's voice called out.

"Might I suggest upstairs?" Jonathan remarked weakly with a worried look. "That is, assuming they can't burst in here to rip us apart, at least they can't knock the doors upstairs er...I hope."

Jess nodded as she offered Daniels the handle of his gun. "I'm sorry for that," she said apologetically as she gestured to his arm with her free hand.

"It was a cheap shot," he grumbled as he took the gun and holstered it.

Jess just shrugged before heading into the kitchen with Anu hot on her heels. She returned and joined the men at the foot of the stairs, a fine kitchen knife now clutched tightly in her right hand.

"Is that really preferable to the gun?" Jonathan demanded, his own pistol now out in hand.

"I can use knives better than guns," Jess replied coolly, "and I like them better, they're pointy," she added in an attempt to diffuse a tense situation.

"Pointy," Jonathan repeated dubiously with a shake of his head before he led the way up.

"And guns are what, shooty?" Daniels queried sarcastically as he followed last.

Jess gave a faint smile at that. "Guns are noisy Mr. Daniels," she corrected, "they give you away."

"They also kill quicker," he muttered, "and call me David, after all this shit I think we've reached first name basis."

"That's the attitude Dave," Jonathan chirped up merrily as they reached the landing and he hastened to light the lamps.

"I said David, and I didn't say you could call me it," Daniels retorted hotly.

"So now what?" Jess queried, her face edged faintly in gold thanks to the amber flame of the light.

"Well there are two rooms," Jonathan murmured, "mine and Evelyn's, she has the larger one. Might I suggest we hide er...that is...set up base in there? Perhaps bar the door until morning?"

"I ain't hiding," Daniels grumbled.

"No, not at all," Jonathan said hastily with a slight grin, "none of us are, just resting until the morning that's all since evidently the streets aren't safe at night."

The Englishman led the way swiftly down the corridor and into a cosy room on the right, which was occupied by a single bed, an old, mahogany wardrobe, a vanity mirror, a desk littered with letters, books, papyrus sheets and pens, a chair, and an inordinate amount of relics, books, and ornaments. All of it looked interesting to Jess but not of any value and she couldn't help but smile at the battered, brown bear teddy almost lost beneath the cushions on the bed.

"She does have her hobbies," Jonathan grumbled as he discarded some books from the bed to the floor along with a couple of scarves and a pair of reading glasses.

"Nice bear," Daniels commented sardonically as he closed the door quietly and hurried to draw the cream linen curtains at the window.

"Ah," Jonathan mused as he plucked the bear up with one hand, showing it to be dressed as an explorer and missing one eye, "this would be Sir Percy Bearington Esquire."

"A pleasure," Jess murmured with a small smile and a nod. "Mine was Baron Fluffy, he was a rabbit," she confessed.

"Really?" Daniels echoed dryly as leaned against the wall, gun cocked in one hand as he reached in his shirt pocket with the other for a cigarette. "You made him a baron but you called him Fluffy?"

"And what was yours called?" Jess retorted moodily as she folded her arms and looked to him questioningly. "Or is that the problem? You didn't have a teddy bear and grew up a lonely uncuddled boy?"

Daniels frowned back at her as he placed the cigarette in his mouth and then hunted for his matches. He paused as he realised his predicament, he would have to temporarily relinquish his gun to strike the match.

Jess stepped forward then, tucking her newly acquired knife through her belt and holding her hand out for the matchbox. Daniels gave her a stern look even as he allowed her to take the box; she tugged out a match, lit it with the first strike and then held it up to his cigarette. His face was illuminated briefly by the small flame, two sparks appearing briefly in his dark eyes before the cigarette was lit and Jess blew the match out softly. The Texan's eyes never left the woman as he drew on the cigarette and then tugged it out to breathe the smoke out gently, turning his head up slightly to avoid breathing it in the woman's face.

"Billy, alright," he admitted at last, "and I barely had him, preferred tin soldiers if you need to know, which you don't."

Jonathan let out a snort, which he then poorly disguised as a cough when he felt Daniels' displeasured gaze upon him.

"What was yours Jonathan?" Jess quipped, though she still held Daniels' gaze as she offered him a small, brief smile that seemed happy rather than taunting.

"Oh no, I wasn't the sort," the Englishman waffled with a nervous chortle.

"Liar," Daniels was quick to accuse, "you Johnny boy are definitely the sort, bet you still have the thing."

"I certainly don't, such a novel idea," Jonathan scoffed, "just because my sister is so sentimental-"

"Shall we look in his room and see?" Jess suggested with a mischievous look.

Daniels nodded as he took another puff. "Might kill some time," he mused.

"Er now wait a minute!" Jonathan protested as he abandoned his sister's bear at last and stood up with a wave of his hand. "It wasn't a bear, more of a um...well a duck..."

"Shit son," Daniels grumbled with a roll of his eyes, "you had a duck for a bear?"

"Yes," Jonathan muttered defensively, "it was stuffed like any bear, nicer too, unique even, I called him Quacky, trouble was," he murmured quietly with a sorrowful look, "he couldn't swim like other ducks."

Daniels burst out laughing at that before he could help himself whilst Jess chuckled quietly before turning to Jonathan with a pitying glance. "Oh dear, and even after that you still didn't learn to value your possessions?" she queried teasingly.

"Quite the opposite!" he protested moodily as he sat back down on the bed again and glared at the pair angrily. "I value them most dearly, especially when they're made of gold or silver."

"Just not stuffing and feathers," Jess continued to joke.

"And do you still have your bear?" Jonathan demanded. "I bet you abandoned it just as foolishly."

"No," Jess retorted, quieter now as a dark look crossed her features, "they wouldn't let me take him from the house, perhaps he's still there."

"Ah," Jonathan looked appropriately guilty as he realised his error, "I'm sorry I-"

"It's okay," Jess assured him with a gentle look, "there's no harm in asking and you made me laugh so I would forgive you anyway."

"Glad to be of service," he murmured with a half-hearted smile as he leaned back against the collection of pillows stacked up against the headboard.

They shared a companionable silence then, Jess and Daniels sitting on the end of the bed once Daniels had finished his smoke. The American's eyes kept flickering towards the window whilst Jess looked to the door. It took the pair twenty minutes before they noticed that Jonathan had nodded off and was now comfortably lying on his sister's bed, hands crossed on chest as he blissfully snored.

"Must be nice to have nothing to keep you awake," Daniels sneered as he glanced over his shoulder at the man. He missed the irony that it was only moments ago he had been passed out and Jonathan who had been awake.

"Must be," Jess murmured with a longing in her voice. "My mother used to sing me lullabies to help me sleep. He was looking for me," she confessed suddenly, "my father that is, he was looking for me so she hid me and he...he got her instead."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Daniels murmured appropriately with an awkward glance at the woman.

Jess nodded. "Do you want to talk about your fiancée?" she queried quietly.

"No," came the blunt retort. Daniels sighed and tugged off his fedora, holding it one hand in his lap and staring into its dark interior, a black hole in the poorly lit room. He couldn't even fathom who or what he had seen downstairs, he had told Jess that it wasn't really her mother but he had to ponder it, had to consider the possibility. Bethany had seemed so real and that voice... He suppressed a shudder and tried to dismiss the thought, to go any further with it was to invite madness to his mind.

"I'm sorry you got caught up in my curse and that...that it brought her back."

"Stop apologising already," Daniels grumbled at her, "I don't blame you and I'm not gonna. The only thing I'm sorry for is coming to this hellhole."

"Well I can't be sorry for that," Jess answered softly, her voice almost a whisper, "I'm glad I met you, that is all of you," she added hastily. "I was alone for a long time with all these secrets about my family and you guys have all helped with that. Of course I wish the circumstances could've been better..." She shrugged then.

"Me too," Daniels murmured as he looked at her with surprise. He was certain that she was blushing slightly but the room was too dark for him to be certain. "So how long have you been alone here anyway?"

"In Cairo? Just a couple of years."

"And in general?" he pried.

"Eight years, I was seventeen when it happened."

Daniels looked across at her, curious and yet wary of pushing the issue. "And those six years in between?" he questioned bluntly.

"What would you do Mr. Daniels if you found your niece the lone survivor of a massacre that evidently took months to carry out?" she replied coolly. "The sole witness to her own family's torture and murders at the hands of her own father?" She wrapped her arms about her knees and leaned forward to them slightly. "And her the only real obstacle between you and your brother's obscene fortune?"

"I..." Daniels trailed off, dreading the answer and deciding that the question was rhetorical anyway.

"My uncle had me placed in an asylum," she confessed bitterly, "quietly out of the way, never to be thought of again. I was there for two years before an aunt on mother's side made enquiries, I was declared as sane as could be and released to her care. I spent the following four years finding a way here. It wasn't hard in the end, uncle never improved the security much on my home, I stole what I needed, bought a boat ticket and then spent two years in Cario following rumours and lies until I found your party talking of Hamunaptra."

"Well shit jackal that's some story," Daniels murmured. "Weren't you happy with your aunt?"

"No, she called my father awful things, made implications about my brothers helping him, and was determined to marry me off as quickly as possible to a suitor that would benefit her."

"You English and your social marriages," Daniels scoffed as he finally put his hat back on.

"What about you Mr. Daniels? What family did you leave behind in the Wild West?" Jess pried calmly as she looked at him with intrigue.

Daniels let out a low bark of a laugh at that. "Wild West?" he sneered with a shake of his head. "Henderson would love to hear you say that, he still thinks there's hope for it but truthfully there's little wild about it, except," he added with a dark look, "some of the bastards that haunt it but sure you'll find their kind anywhere. I'm from the lone star state," he explained proudly, "Texas, born and raised."

"What's it like?" Jess queried as she stared at him with a deep fascination that flattered him as much as it surprised him. "My brothers Lorcan and Corbin had all these books about cowboys and Indians, Lorcan kept trying to shoot like a cowboy but Corbin wanted to be an Indian, he was a prize winning archer."

Daniels shook his head once more in mild amusement though he felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of crushing the woman's fantasy of his homeland. "Well it ain't like that anymore," he confessed, "it passed about a decade or so ago." Seeing the woman's forlorn look he added hastily, "it's still wild, just in a different way, the West ain't a place to be easily tamed. You should see it sometime, mountains, rivers, valleys, all the wildlife, buffalo, bears, wolves, and your cattle and horses. No closed spaces, no tight packed cities, just freedom for miles."

Jess smiled at the thought. "It sounds nice but why did you leave it for Egypt if it's so exciting?"

Daniels grimaced slightly and let out another sigh. "You ain't letting it off easy are you jackal?" he quipped accusingly. "Because of Bethany," he confessed with a dark frown, "I...I went off the rails a bit after her death, I know, nice guy like me, couldn't imagine that right?" He gave a small, bitter grin at this. "It was Henderson's plan; Burns had only lost his sister a few months back, Katie." He tensed suddenly, staring forward with wide eyes. "Shit he was the last one...his mother...I..." His face crumpled as finally the reality of the day's events seeped in, weakening his stubborn refusal to give into his grief. "Ah fuck Bernie I'm so sorry. What am I going to do without you? You're the reasonable one, you keep me sane and you stop Henry from going half cocked."

The American flinched when he felt Jess' left palm rest upon the top of his right hand and yet he did not shake her off, instead he turned to her with a dejected look and sighed. "I don't know how to get by without him," he admitted, "Henry is the one with the mad ideas but Bernie always brought the sense to him and he always seemed able to diffuse things, he is...was the reasonable one..."

"I could tell," Jess replied with a gentle smile. "You will get by though," she assured, "it's hard but people always get by. Just don't forget him, people say it's easier to forget sometimes and maybe it is but I don't think it's fair or right. They brought so much happiness to your lives, they deserve to be remembered."

Daniels nodded in agreement as he let another heavy silence fill the air. His body was tired but his mind was not, afraid to usher in nightmares. 'Will I have much more time to sleep?' he wondered bitterly. 'That creature is going to come back and then what?'

"Tell me more about Texas," Jess piped up, in a deliberate attempt to distract the man from his woes.

Daniels glanced down at her again and realised she had to have the same fears and concerns as him, worse she had come to Hamunaptra for some other reason, something to do with that damn book, a purpose to do with her family that might never be achieved thanks to this mummy. Worse, he thought that in his own odd way he might have grown fond of her, whether it was because they had been so closely thrust together thanks to a shared fate, or because Henderson and Burns liked her making him view her in a different light he did not know. Maybe it was her stubbornness his insults, the way she tried to neutralise their horror with humour or her independence or gutsy nature. 'Hell maybe it's because it's only been her and Miss Carnahan in the desert,' he thought bitingly. He then dismissed the thought just as fast. He hadn't even looked at Jess that way in the desert, Evelyn yes, hard not to notice her beauty, especially that night in the river, damn hadn't she looked desirable then, clad in white like an angel and yet everything on display just Eve in the garden. Okay there had been that night at dinner, he might have noticed Jess then but that was Evelyn's influence she had helped the woman scrub up and she had looked nice but not natural, not herself. Jess was scruffy, wild and totally unlady like and he liked it. Damn she had worn him down hadn't she? Without her even realising or trying.

Jess wasn't surprised when Daniels finally shook her hand off but when he slipped the same hand round her back and over her right shoulder she felt a sudden quiver of shock run through her.

For a moment the pair were still, letting the gesture remain between them, daring the other to mention it or end it or even pursue it. At last, Daniels remembered Jess had said something and he finally spoke again. "Texas has everything, canyons, mountains, deserts, forests, rivers, lakes, it's all there. I've seen lakes that have mist sitting on them all morning long, great red cliffs in the canyons with mean coyotes, and endless forests of these tall, green trees. Course there's no money to be had in it, not for me, that's the damn problem, and they're trying to bring the law into it, these dumbass city folk who don't know shit about the country life, man has to travel across the ocean to get a damn drink unless he's crafty enough to get it through other means."

"You don't have alcohol?" Jess queried in surprise, she just could not believe that given Daniels temperament for it.

Daniels laughed again. "Oh we got it, some folk just think we shouldn't is all, self-righteous bastards."

Jess leaned against the man slowly then and he welcomed her, deciding that her warmth pressed against him wasn't so bad given even in the house the cold air of Egypt's dark night still managed to seep in. She nodded as he continued on, telling her about his ranch back home, formerly his father's, he confessed he had almost mucked up the running of it until Henderson had shown him the right way of it. It was, he explained, how he and Henderson had become friends. The blonde had been widowed young, wife and brother lost to the same fever, and he had welcomed the distraction of a friend and neighbour who had just inherited a ranch and was green to the running of it. Burns had joined them later, a would be city boy who they had teased mercilessly for his bookish ways even as they loved him for it and benefited from his smarts.

When Daniels became troubled, his words slowing as he mentioned his deceased friend, Jess had squeezed his free hand with her own and smiled up at him gently. "It's good to talk about him," she reminded him, "it keeps him alive in a way and I like hearing about him, he was a wonderful man, I wish I could have known him better and maybe through you I can."

"Damn you know what to say don't you? You're like him in the way, Bernie always knew what to say," Daniels mused as he held her gaze with his own serious stare.

"I know what to say when it comes to loss; I've learned the right and wrong ways of grief I suppose."

"Well I hate hearing that," Daniels confessed with a grimace, "but I do appreciate you knowing what to say."

She nodded again before Jonathan let out a loud snort, startling them both. They exchanged a look and Daniels smiled as Jess let out a soft laugh. "I hope the others aren't too worried," Jess murmured.

"With Johnny to protect us why should they be?" Daniels scoffed sardonically.

Jess stifled another laugh. "He's good in his way, I mean he's offered his shelter, he can use his gun and he does look out for his sister."

"True," Daniels allowed as he pulled her a little closer against him, "but I think I'll still awake anyway, wouldn't do for Johnny to miss out on his dreams to keep us safe."

"No," Jess agreed as she nestled her head against the Texan's chest and smiled again.