Author: Jessi The Untalented

Disclaimer: The characters/places mentioned in this story belong to Stephen Sommers and Universal Studios. I'm just playing with them for a bit ;)

This is what happens when you start writing something when you have NO IDEA where it's going. One day I just decided to write a Mummy fic, and I started writing. Hence the fact that it's totally unfocused and might not make a whole lot of sense.

Well, here it is anyway. Leave me feedback so I can fix it.

Second Chances

The low rumble of distant thunder and the rhythmic beat of rain against the windows provided a stark contrast to the warmth of the crackling fire, soft blanket, and good book I was currently indulging in.

With another chapter finished I felt accomplished enough to slide the bookmark into place and set the book down on the nearby end table, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before I was at it again. I was a "chronic reader" as my husband put it, always making it sound like an unpleasant medical diagnosis. I would just smile at him and choose not to mention that he was slightly jealous of all the time I spent with my nose in a book.

Just because I was finished reading for the moment didn't necessarily mean I wanted to get up. I snuggled back into the soft, overstuffed cushions of the couch and hitched the blanket up under my chin with a sigh. The couch had been a favorite of my father's and held countless memories of my childhood. Everything from sitting on daddy's knee trying to read his books about Egypt, to the time Jonathan hadn't heeded mother's warning about jumping on the furniture and ended up breaking his arm when he tumbled to the floor. I had to laugh when I thought back to Uncle David demonstrating to my nine year old brother that his cast could be the perfect place in which to hide cards during a crooked game of poker. Something Jon would surely pass on to his own nephew if the opportunity presented itself.

I was just beginning to drift into that peaceful place between consciousness and sleep, aided by the cozy feel that always accompanied curling up in my favorite spot in our home library, when I heard the door creak open a bit, pause, then continue the rest of the way. There was a moment of silence before I heard the familiar footsteps shuffling towards where I was resting, and I couldn't stop a little smile from tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"I'm not sleeping," I said, though it was little more than a murmur I know he heard me.

The footsteps became more sure and soon a curious face peeked over the back of the couch, blue eyes twinkling and dancing in the light coming from the fireplace. After looking me over for a moment his mouth quirked up into a little smile of his own.

"You should know by now that you can't sneak up on me, O'Connell," I teased, turning his smirk into that full-blown grin that can still make my knees weak even after almost ten years of marriage.

"You're unsneakable," he teased back, obviously delighting in my cringe at his abuse of the English language. He bent down and placed a kiss on the tip of my nose then came around the front of the couch and moved my legs just long enough for him to take a seat.

I nearly purred as I stretched my legs out across his lap and was rewarded with a brief but satisfying calf massage. "Mmm, if you were going to do that you should have come in sooner," I told him with a coy smile, shifting to rub his thigh with my heel.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat and he caught my foot, wrapping his large hands around it and massaging his thumbs into the arch, eliciting a small moan from me. "I would have, but that son of yours--"

"Son of ours,"I reminded playfully. He credited only me with the birth of Alex when the boy did something particularly brainy, and I was guilty of giving Rick all of the credit when he did something particularly infuriating. He took after his father too much for his own good sometimes.

"--son of yours wanted to kick my ass at another game of chess before he went to bed." He gave me his most innocent look, but it didn't stop me from swatting his arm.

"Watch your language."

He laughed and abandoned his ministrations on my foot, leaning towards me in a way that made his intentions all too clear. "But you blush when I swear, and it's so damn cute."

"Oooo..." Particularly infuriating, indeed. I narrowed my eyes at my husband, who was rapidly closing the distance between our lips, and put my hand up to stop him mere inches away. "I do not blush every time you use that foul mouth of yours!"

He just gave me that grin that told me he knew I was wrong and, despite the hands I had strategically placed on his chest, continued forward to steal that kiss he was after. I pressed myself further back into the cushions and pushed back against his chest to put more distance between us, but he was a worthy foe and I soon found myself trapped between him at the arm of the couch. Maybe I could have put up more of a fight...

But the second his lips touched mine I remember exactly why I didn't. Darn him for being so good at this. I melted into his arms, unable to stop a little moan of approval as I ran my hand up his arm, across his broad shoulder, along the back of his neck to bury my fingers in his unruly mop of brown hair. A corresponding moan escaped him, right before he pulled away to catch his breath.

The solemn look on his face didn't surprise me as much as it probably should have. I could tell where his mind was wandering. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I clung to his solid frame as he shifted us until I was sitting sideways in his lap, closing my eyes as we just held each other.

"I'm all right, you know," I mumbled into the cloth of his shirt, pressing my face into the crook of his neck. I let the steady rise and fall of his breathing soothe me for a moment before I turned my head up to let him see my smile.

"I know," he assured with a little nod. He returned the smile, but it was devoid of his usual humor and spirit. Those beautiful blue eyes of his, usually sparkling with mischief, had dulled to a sober gray in the glow of the firelight. There was only one thing he could be thinking about. Only thoughts of the day I died turned him into the downcast man whose arms I was sitting right now. "Sometimes I just have to check."

"I know," I echoed, reaching up to brush a lock of hair off of his forehead. One more look in his eyes was all I could take, and I wrapped my arms around his neck again, drawing him to me and wishing I could take away all the pain that day had caused him.

Though it had been a month since our escape from Ahm-Shere, and the worst of the pain, fear, and guilt had been washed away, there was still plenty of healing to be done. And though dying had been a harrowing experience for me, I couldn't imagine what my husband, son, and brother had gone through watching my life drain away on the sands of that cursed oasis. I don't want to begin to image if it had been one of them instead of me. Watching Rick dangling next to Imhotep from the edge of that crevasse had been horrifying enough. If he had actually died...

I shuddered at the thought and held myself closer to him, allowing the embrace to ensure both of us that we were alive, safe, and in each other's arms. Since our return there had been countless times one or both of us needed this extra assurance. It was never spoken, always a silent knowledge that one of us needed the other, and we would be there as long as it took. He would search me out in the library or study, I would find him working outside or reading the newspaper in the den. It didn't matter where or when. Just the look on the other's face would be enough to know they needed the warmth and love found in each others arms.

"I love you, Richard O'Connell," I whispered into the silence. I felt his arms tighten around me and leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I love you so much."

"I love you, Evy" he whispered back, and gave me a much more genuine smile.

"I know that, too," I promised, running my fingers along his jaw, wishing I could portray all my love for this man somehow. It was true that I knew, but I always felt honored to hear those words from him. My husband wasn't a man of many words, he rarely spoke just for the sake of speaking, and he never said anything unless he meant it. Years of keeping his emotions and thoughts to himself had ingrained that in him, but he found other ways of showing his family how much he cared for us, and I never doubted his love for me or our son for a moment. I even had a sneaking suspicion he cared for Jonathan much more than he would ever let on.

"It really makes you think, doesn't it?" He asked quietly after a while, gaining my full attention. He cleared his throat before continuing, almost sounding nervous. "I mean, I guess I always knew somewhere in the back of my mind that one day one of us would... go." He paused for a moment, obviously trying to collect his thoughts before continuing,

"But when you actually have to face it... and god, Evy, we're still young. Our son is so young. I don't think I'll ever be ready for it, but right then... even with everything we faced, everything we had seen, I still wasn't prepared for it. I didn't take it seriously enough... we had already lived through so much, and I thought it was just one more thing we'd get through. Another adventure," he let out a bitter-sounding laugh. "Like we were immortal or something. Pretty ridiculous, huh?"

I let it all sink in for a moment before opening my mouth to respond, but he spoke again before I could.

"Anyway, my point was... it just makes you think. Think about everything you have and how easily it can be taken away, whether you're ready for it or not. I wont... I wont take it for granted anymore. Wont take your life, our life, for granted anymore."

"Oh Rick," I struggled for something to say, the right words to assure him, to thank him, but the emotion and love in his words had overwhelmed me. For the first, and possibly the only, time in our ten years together my husband had left me completely speechless.

He stayed silent as well, and I understood that I wasn't expected to say anything. He hadn't been apologizing, like he had done so many times over the past month, or asking anything of me. He was just stating the facts. I knew exactly how he felt.

"You weren't the only one." I finally found the words. "We all did. I think everyone does. No one thinks their lives are going to be ripped away from them like that."

It was quiet for a little while longer before I reached up and placed my hands on his cheeks, turning his head to stare straight into his eyes.

"We were the lucky ones, Rick. We were given a second chance. I know that's something we wont take for granted."

He nodded in response and leaned forward to capture my lips with his, wrapping me in his warmth and love. We both knew what we had here in our arms. We were quite possibly the only people who had ever been given a second chance like this, and we would always know how much that meant. How much all of it meant.

Fin