#didn't spend nearly as long on this as i did on the rick o'connell one but i did still put a lot of effort in so rbs are appreciated!

[heygerald]

Love Mummified: (The Mummy, 1999)

OFC x OMC

Another excerpt for yet another story that doesn't really exist; but i guess this is my blog and i can do what i want right?

Catherine had never been fond of swimming; whereas her brothers enjoyed spending their time fooling around in the pond at their estate, she much preferred to be in the stables with her horse. She always felt swimming involved too much flailing, too much accidentally swallowed mouthfuls of bitter lake water, and after getting out she would be have to endure the process of toweling dry (which always took much too long in her opinion).

Two decades later and it seemed that her opinion on swimming had not changed. In fact, having to blindly swim in the dark away from a burning ship, following the others in hopes that they would find land, trying not to get kicked in the chin by Jonathan's too long legs, was what she considered to be a less than thrilling experience.

And by the time they made it to shore, water weighing down her pants and making her shirt completely see through, she was very nearly prepared to get back in the water if only to drown Rick O'Connell himself.

"You ever afraid your face will get stuck like that?" Louis asked as he extended a hand down towards Catherine. She had been flailing while trying to stand, boots much too heavy for walking, and of course it had taken the man no time at all to zero in on her struggles. "The frowning, I mean. It can't be comfortable. Heard a rumor about a lady that was like that forever; scared away all the men."

Drowning him without be that bad, either, she thought before slapping his hand away as aggressively as she could. The scowl deepened like a carving.

"The frown seems fitting considering the fact that you just threw me off a boat," she snapped.

"Saved your hide is more accurate," he teased just as she tripped over what she hoped was a log. He was there to pick her back up, of course, and though his hands were comfortably warm against the cold water dripping down her spine, Catherine really wasn't in the mood to be handled by anyone. "You alright? Didn't realize it'd be such a big fall down to the water. Didn't swallow any water, did you?"

She scowled but the angry retort froze on her lips when she realized that his question had been sincere. His eyes were big and wide, searching, and though his mouth was curled in a smile there was nothing mean about it.

She turned her nose up at him, anyhow. "Just fine, thanks."

Mr. Abbott grinned, about to say something else, when she tripped for a third time when something big and scaly startled in the water in front of her, jetting off in the opposite direction. Catherine leapt as high as one could in knee deep water and she would have fallen completely on her ass if she hadn't managed to jump right against Louis' chest.

He caught her with a chuckle, and she was even more startled when she turned to find his face mere inches from her own. Even in the dark she could make out the amusement sparkling in his eyes, as well as feel the laugh rumble through his chest.

"It was a—um—alligator," she grumbled, extracting herself from him as quickly as she could manage. His hand lingered on her waist when she tried to find her footing. "Or—or something big."

"Sure," he drawled. "I'd be happy to carry you to shore. To scare off the gators, of course."

Catherine's scowl returned full force. There was something so irritating about the man—how he could switch between infuriating to genuine and back again so easily—and she tried to remind herself of the fact that he had just thrown her off a boat without knowing if she could swim first. Infuriating seemed to be the thing to focus on. "Isn't there someone else you can bother?"

"And waste a perfectly good opportunity to help a damsel in distress?"

Catherine narrowed her scowl into something deadly; a look that any normal man may have taken to mean that she wasn't in the mood to joke around. Mr. Abbott clearly didn't understand the facial expressions of women, however, and as she fumbled towards the shore his smile widened as he swept his gaze over her.

"I can assure you that Jonathan is more a damsel than I am," she snarked. Rick was helping Evelyn a bit further ahead, while Jonathan was proving her point by awkwardly staggering in the reeds to their right. "One that is much less likely to hit you for being handsy, anyway."

Louis chuckled warmly, and heat rushed her cheeks. How was he so difficult to offend? Was he simply that obtuse or did he have a thing for rude women?

Catherine watched him wring out his hat before dropping the misshapen garment onto his head with a wet thwack. "It wouldn't be the first time a lady slapped me. Just the first time it was a beautiful lady. That seems like a fair trade off to me."

She sighed through her nose. Obtuse it was.

Graciously, she wasn't alone. Catherine's gaze darted towards Evelyn as they approached the others on the beach, and though the librarian seemed a tad more hysteric than the others, Catherine took great comfort in the fact that at least someone seemed to understand the unfortunate situation they were now stuck in.

"We've lost everything!" she was saying, hands wringing water out of her hair. "All of our tools, my equipment, my books!"

"Your books aren't really the biggest problem here, lady," Rick said as he dropped his rucksack onto the ground with a solid thump. Next, he pulled his gun out of its holster to check it thoroughly for damage. His dejected sigh seemed to indicate that the weapon didn't entirely appreciate their impromptu swim anymore than Catherine did. "We need guns."

"Guns?" Evelyn cried. "This is a historical expedition!"

"And clearly someone isn't too happy about it. Or am I the only one that remembers the guy trying to kill you?" he snarked.

"Kill her?" Catherine echoed. She glanced around the group to find that the others seemed just as surprised as she did. "Why the hell would someone want to kill Evelyn?"

The woman in mention bristled at her cursing, but did seem just as upset about it as everyone else. Her hands were shaking when she wiped them down the length of her face in thought. "I may have one or two ideas, but—"

Someone whistled sharply from the other bank, and the group turned to find the little man in the fez—Rick and Louis' old comrade, as she had been told—waving at them with the white flash of a grin. Both men groaned in annoyance, sharing identical looks of displeasure that spoke to how little they thought of Beni's attitude.

"Hey O'Connell," he sang in a lilting voice. "Looks to me like we've got all the horses!"

Catherine's jaw dropped, before snapping shut with an audible click when she realized that he was right.

Still, Rick didn't take the hit without his own smug reply, shouting, "hey Beni! It looks to me like you're on the wrong side of the river!"

Beni hadn't seemed to realize that and when he did his shoulders dropped with a kick to the ankle-deep water he was standing in. The Americans moved past him with the horses in mention, and Catherine couldn't help the steam that billowed out of her ears at the sight. She squared her shoulders at Rick with a glare, and when he noticed it, he quickly occupied his time sorting through his bag.

"That's three horses you've lost me now, Rick! Three!"

"Well—it's not like I meant to," he argued, waving a hand around vaguely. "How was I suppose to know that Evelyn would catch the boat on fire?"

"I caught the boat on fire?" Evelyn screeched.

"The fact that you end up in positions like this should be reason enough to expect something like this to happen! Don't think I won't be adding this to the bill that you owe me," Catherine continued, not at all liking the thought of Beni riding one of her beloved steeds. "Honestly! How can you be such a disaster?"

"Hey," he swung a hand towards her, pointing. "I'm not the one that caused that whole mess. Miss Librarian over here is the one that insisted we go to Hamunaptra in the first place," he jabbed a thumb at Evelyn, before swinging his hand towards her brother. "And he's the one that was running his big mouth about where we were going with the Americans."

"Oi!" Jonathan scoffed at the same time that Evelyn crossed one arm over the other and said, "I beg your pardon!"

Three people now stood scowling at Rick, and with the cool night chill sweeping through their group, it seemed apparent that they were in for a miserable night. As tactfully as he could manage—which to say, was not at all—Louis sidled up next to his friend with a grimace.

"You may want to quit while you're ahead, Ricky," he muttered with a sage pat to his friend's back.

Rick threw off his touch with a steely look, before stooping low to grab his rucksack off the ground. It wasn't long before he was stomping off, leaving everyone else no choice but to hope that he knew where he was going.

"Honestly," Evelyn muttered. Jonathan had the good grace to give her his coat—even though it was just as wet as the rest of them—and slowly the two siblings began ambling in his wake, the warden not far behind.

Catherine glanced miserably at the horses on the other bank of the water.

"Still thinking about swimming back to the boat?" Louis drawled.

"Considering going with the Americans," she said; it was as much of a joke as a reality, but he didn't seem to take her all that seriously. "I loved that horse, you know. He was purebred, the sweetest little thing, first one that I got when I came to Egypt."

"We make it to Hamunaptra and you can buy yourself another. A better one."

"O'Connell can buy me another, but if we run into the little fez again you can surely expect me to take him back," she corrected as they slowly made after the others. "He already owes me two from the last adventure he got himself roped into."

"You didn't go on that one?"

Catherine shook her head. "Graciously."

"Ah, please," he bumped his shoulder into hers, grinning warmly when she shot him a wary glance in return. Nothing seemed to bother him; not the wet clothes the soggy boots or the lack of horses. Instead, he seemed to thrive on this sort of trouble. As if he enjoyed living life by the seat of his pants. "This is probably the most excitement you've ever had other than getting a good sale on a pretty hat."

She scrunched her nose at him, trying not to be offended, but finding it quite hard when he managed to hit the nail on the head. Though she had come to Egypt without anything but a trunk of clothes, and while running away from her stifling homelife hadn't been an easy choice to make, since she got to Egypt Catherine had found herself erring on the side of caution. Money was hard to come by when one didn't have rich parents to pay her checks, and work wasn't something that she could skimp on if she wanted a place to sleep at night.

Truthfully, while her life had begun when she came to Cairo, the only true adventures—the ones she dreamed of as a little girl—existed when Rick O'Connell showed up at her door with a grin.

"I hate hats," she sniped. Then, feeling petty, gave his own hat a disdainful look. "And perhaps for good reason if they all look like that."

"Well—hey! What's wrong with my hat?!"

"Other than the fact that it looks like a skinned cat?" she cooed, mouth curling into a smirk when she finally managed to wipe that smug look off his face. Catherine gave an airy shrug. "Well, nothing I suppose. But have you ever heard the saying about putting lipstick on a pig?"

Louis' step faltered in shock at her blatant insult, giving Catherine enough time to catch up to Evelyn. She looped her arm through the woman's with a coy smile when she heard his feet dragging behind her.

"Walk with me?" she asked.

"Getting tired of the male company already?"

"Do you ever wonder what the world would be like if women were in charge of everything?" Catherine mused in a stage whisper. "I can't help but think it would be quite thrilling if this mess of a trip is anything to go by."

Evelyn seemed to understand exactly where she was coming from and in response sighed hard enough for her shoulders to droop from lost tension. "Only all day, every day."

"Oi!" Jonathan cried for the second time that night. Both women glanced at him in unison. If the scandalous look on his face was anything to go by, he was clearly in hearing range of their conversation. "What have I done?"

"Absolutely nothing, dear," Evelyn cooed.

"And that seems to be the problem, doesn't it?" Catherine tacked on with a witty grin. Evelyn hadn't seemed to expect such an answer and slapped a hand to her mouth to keep the giggles at bay. "Now, why don't you tell me about one of your books. I could use a good story."

Evelyn beamed at the request. "Well, oh—where to even start? I'm assuming you know the legend of Hamunaptra, but what most people don't realize is that..."