{Now, I don't know how many of you are into Night at the Museum, but I've been on some sort of kick lately and I had the urge to write something. So I came up with this, I hope you all enjoy it.}
So, she had been backed into the corner like some animal about to be jumped by its predator. Though, she was terrified of this man, her expression bore no signs of fear against him. It was more of stubbornness and a bit of hate. "You're a cruel person." She growled up at him; curse her height, for he basically stood much higher than her, hovering over her if possible.
He smirked down at her, "Flattery will not get you anywhere, Mith Theythelle."
"Don't even try to speak my last name if you're going to destroy it with that lisp of yours." She snapped at him—this only seemed to intrigue the man more of his little captive. He placed his large hands on the wall, beside her head as if blocking her ways out.
"My, what a tongue you have." He merely replied, "I might jutht have to cut it out." Of course, she knew he wouldn't do that—but she also knew that he wouldn't hesitate to try.
"You swore not to harm me." She narrowed her eyes at him—as if trying to be intimidating. Obviously got her no where because all he did was smirk.
"Well, whatever Mithter Daley doethn't know, doethn't hurt him." Her guard dropped for a moment as her eyes widened and he caught it. She was falling into his trip quicker than lightning striking through the thick thunder cloud. She hadn't noticed him move his right hand, to brush it up against her jawline, earning a soft gasp from the woman. That smirk on his face only became more devious—but she did notice that his face slowly crept down towards her own. She pressed further back against the wall, as if trying to somehow morph herself through it.
Thankfully though, it wasn't needed for a new voice came into the massive hall. "Mister Pharoah." A thick Russian accent called out—the smirk disappeared from the man's face and shifted to something of disgust and pure annoyance. He pulled himself from over the girl and walked towards the Russian. Oh how she was beginning to grow a new love for this Russian man—always coming to save her at that last moment.
"What could you pothibly want?" The man growled, before the Russian moved in towards the Pharaoh, whispering something into his ear, which was barely audible to outside listeners like the young woman.
The Pharaoh let out a loud groan before looking back over towards the lady and stormed off down the connecting hall; leaving both the Russian and the woman alone. Of course, the man made no move to go near the lady, but she made the move. She picked herself from the wall, quickly fixed her hair and walked across the Russian's view and towards the throne. There she saw the little hour glass, inside sitting the little cowboy, who had tried so hard to help both her and Larry.
"Jed?" She spoke softly, kneeling down as easily as she could in that blasted dress that >>Quack<< Pharaoh had forced her to wear. The little cowboy glanced back up towards her, obviously so helpless as the sand just continued to pour down on his head, "Larry will get us out of here, I promise."
"Oh, I have no doubt about that, Vicky, but it's not him that I'm worried about—it's you." Jededaiah told her. She responded by perking up a thin brow. "You got that crazy Kahmunrah on your tail like a train robber."
"Oh, don't worry about me. I can fend for myself. I learned from the best, remember?" She winked, adding in a soft chuckle. Kahmunrah had entered the vast hall once more, sending off Ivan to watch for Larry Daley of Daley Devices. He looked around and spied that girl, talking to that tiny westerner. He walked over to the pair, placed his hands upon her shoulders, which made her both jump and shiver. So she did feel something. He removed one hand from her shoulder to reach over and grab the hour glass from in front of herself. Kahmunrah backed away a step as she quickly bounced up with an angry face,
"Don't you dare hurt him!"
"Now why would I ever do thuch a thing?" He smirked, toying with it, tilting it from side to side. She could only stand there as he just forced Jed around the glass and sand—she couldn't do anything to save him, unless she wanted to be the one buried neck deep in the end.
"Because you're heartless." She growled at him. He only smiled like he was really actually flattered by her words.
"Oh thop it, you're making me bluth."
She rolled her eyes, "What is your problem?" She barked, "Why can't you just let Jed and I go?" Where'd that strong spirit go? Giving up already?
He huffed out his chest a little and turned on his heel—he loved playing with her fiery side, she was certainly much more different that women had been while he was still alive three thousand years ago. "To be thure of Mither Daley'th return." He simply replied, walking away with the hour glass, and little Jededaiah grumbling, trying to fix himself up in the sand pit. "He thertainly wouldn't try ethcaping when he knew hith friendth needed thaving."
He turned around once more, to return the hour glass back on the armrest of his comfortable throne, "But of courth, once you fell into my handth, I knew there would be different planth for you." Pressing his fingertips together, separating each finger widely as he turned to face her. "Now that you've willingly put on the theremonial robeth-."
"Willingly?" She quickly cut him off, "You forced these things on me."
"Exactly." Kahmunrah replied, "You, Victoria Theythelle, thall become my queen."
Victoria's eyes quickly widened and she tried to back away before tripping and falling back into his little mountain of treasures, "What!" She exclaimed, "Where in this little… Agreement did it say that I had to become queen? It certainly wasn't mentioned when you told Larry to figure out the combination." She replied sharply. He chuckled softly—there was that spirit again.
He completely ignored her comment, "Thice I have theen your body, you mutht become my queen."
"Uh no! That's like that whole 'I have to get married to you because I'm pregnant.'" She waved her hands around dramatically. He perked up a brow at her,
"If it mutht come down to that." He smirked. Her eyes widened even bigger at the sight of the evil glint in his eyes.
"No no!" She quickly turned over and scrambled her way up the hill of useless things. He quickly chased after her like a game of cat and mouse and she had been certain of her getaway until he grabbed her wrist tightly and pulled her against himself, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and his free arm to hold her head in place.
"You can't get away from me that eathily." He smirked, "Baby brother can't have hith play thing back jutht yet." He spoke softly in some sort of cooing voice, letting his middle finger run along her jawline, applying pressure to lift her chin up as he dropped his face to just barely graze her lips with his own. The feeling of his warm breath on her skin sent chills down her chill, almost losing the feeling in her legs. She was secretly thankfully that he held her in his grasp.
"Now, Mith Theythelle, your hour ith jutht about up." He pressed his lips fiercely against hers.
Suddenly—her eyes shot open. She was no longer in the Smithsonian museum. She felt around her body, and she wasn't in that blasted outfit. She let out a sigh, "It was a dream." She mumbled to herself then felt a hand on her shoulder. Her body jumped and tensed as she quickly turned to see who the person was.
Their eyes connected and she smiled, relaxing her body once more. "Are you okay, Victoria?" His voice was calming as he moved himself around the bench to sit down next to the woman.
"Yes, Ahk." She smiled sweetly, but it faltered slightly as she recalled the dream in the back of her mind, "I just had a bad dream." She explained to him. He smiled weakly and nodded, accepting this explanation, planting a chaste kiss upon her cheek.
"If you are tired, you don't have to stay here." He told her, she merely shrugged her shoulders.
"No, it's alright. There's work to be done anyway." She quickly fixed her hair and stood up, walking away from the bench. Leaving a slightly confused Ahkmenrah, curious of what could have been making this woman so jumpy. He just sighed, standing up from the bench and walked back to his exhibit, where he knew their routine would begin again.
