Attention :) this fanfic was first started in 2004 I believe…I was 14 years old and am now nearing the big two oh. I am in the process or re-writing a lot of the chapters to reflect my new writing style so please be patient. I hope you enjoy as this is my most treasured and long standing fanfiction.

Canon pairings as usual, but with a slight little venture off the actual events of the film…in the latter chapters we alternate between Rick and Evie's POV respectively.

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I fired the gun as quickly as possible, causing a flash and blinding spark which was set dramatically against the dark desert sky. The huge thing went off which such a blast that I was thrown backwards, and I felt my head hit something hard, and then, pulled into drowsiness I slowly closed my eyes...

I found her lying on her back with the gun at her feet. God no, don't let her have been shot...

"Evelyn." I mutter, hearing her groan and helping her up."You alright?"

"Yes, yes I'm fine." She replies, not protesting that I am holding her closer than usual. My fingers brush her bruised cheek gently, and a pulse of electricity seems to pass through our skin. Her fingers are gently clutching at my shirt as though if I weren't holding her she'd fall away, beneath the sands...

"See! That prooves it! For them to protect it like this there's gotta be something underneath that sand!" Observes a voice.

"Those men are from the desert, they value water, not gold." I reply, watching the black robed men ride off into the distance.

"How about, at night, we combine forces, hey O'Connell?" asks one of the hard-faced treasure seekers.

I turn to Evelyn and she nods, but her thoughts are obviously elsewhere.

She gently pulls away from me, and heads off in search of something.

"I haven't taken a thing!" cries Beni as she approaches him. "I am just checking the dead to see if they aren't dead!"

Weasel. Thieving the dead, even I wouldn't stoop that low.

I need to find him, that man, that poor man...

I find him a couple of feet from where O'Connell helped me up. He's...lying in a puddle of crimson. Killed, murdered by a bullet from the gun that I fired.

My eyes sting, but remain unusually dry as guilt consumes me, pure raw guilt. I killed a man, a living person... I may be an atheist, but still, taking the life from another is against any gods desire.

I notice a clean blade at his side, still being clutched by his cold hand. He would have killed me, I would be dead...

I follow her and find her standing over a body, a black robed body. It must've been one of the guys that she shot. Had she shot someone? I definately heard my gun empty its ammuntion earlier. Upon closer inspection, she ain't crying, just standing there, motionless. She's surprisingly quiet. I take a tentative step forward and place my hand on her shoulder.

I feel a hand grasp my shoulder. I jump back and scream- The desert nomads have come back for me because I killed one of their men!

I turn around and find O'Connell standing there, his eyes surveying me. Eventually locking on mine.

"You okay?" He asks gently. A tone of his voice that I didn't think would describe his usual commanding baritone.

"Hmm." I reply, neither nodding nor disagreeing. His hand stays where he placed it, gently offering me comfort.

"Who's that guy?" He asks, clearly following my gaze.

"A..a nomad. I-I..."

"You what?" He presses the matter, his eyes telling me that I need to tell him the answer.

"I shot him." I finish in a strange whisper, my voice unmatching my normal tone, and dry, matching the texture of the vast desert. I gaze into the closed eyes of the man. I bend down, so close that I can see the stubble on his face and scars that had not yet healed on his forehead.

"I shot him..." I repeat. I look up to see O'Connell looking down at me with concern.

"Help him..." I beg, my voice quiet and eager. He sighs, and bends down to match my level.

His hand reaches out and checks the mans neck where his pulse should be. He closes his eyes, confirming his suspicions.

"He's dead Evelyn." He whispers to me, so only that I can hear.

I rear back quickly and stand up. My eyes are prickling with tears, tears that I cannot allow. He is watching me, I can feel his stare upon me, as I slowly look away without so much as a backwards glance at the body.

She's walking away, not even turning back... "Evelyn!" I call.

She doesn't answer, I don't even think she can. I watch her head off, each step taking longer than the last, in a general direction towards our camp.

I watch as she slows even further, if possible, until she reaches a completely motionless state. "Evelyn." I ask, as she sways gently in the cold desert breeze.

And then it happens so quickly that I barely make it to her. She falls to the ground, and I rush to her side.

"Evelyn!" I call quickly, urgently.

Her eyes are closed, her sand covered hair lies softly framing her beautiful face...

She is lying in the sand, half in my arms. She makes no sound...but she's okay. She has to be...

I gently check her pulse, and sigh when I find it beating, slowly at that, but nether-the-less beating.

My large, rough, worn hands look out of place next to her skin. Her hands are so small- I daringly take one in my own and gently squeeze it.

"Come on Evelyn. Wake up." I whisper, almost one hundered percent sure that when she awakes, she will return to being properly British; she'll tell me that she's perfectly okay, and would I kindly let go of her?

She moans slightly, and I carry her over to our camp which lies a couple of feet away. I gently place her near the fire, but not too near that would make her too hot.

She's fainted. She'll wake up soon...

She moans again. I wonder what she's dreaming...

Can you dream when you're knocked out? Dead to the world?

In my mind's eye, he's running towards me...scimitar raised...about to strike...

And all of a sudden my head is spinning, and I find myself nearer to the floor.

As I meet the floor, I find gentle hands are lowering me, talking to me...

But that cannot change the fact that I murdered that man...killed him...took him from this world...his wife, his children for god's sake...

I do not deserve comfort.

But then I forget all that, and as though I am in a different time altogether, and that I haven't just murdered a man, Mister O'Connell has me in his arms, he leans down, and acts like he's going to kiss me...

"Kiss me Mister O'Connell..." I find myself asking as I hold onto his strong arms.

He grins that dashing grin of his and kisses me, a kiss that's a thousand times better than when he kissed me at the prison, well, not that there's much to compare to, if you could call that a kiss...

She seems to smile coyly, even in sleep she must be shy. "Evelyn, hey, Evelyn..."

She seems to stir, so I give her a gentle shake. She's still in my arms. I wait for the protest.

She looks up sheepishly at me. "What happened?" Her smaller, paler hand grabs my arm tighter.

"You erm, uh, fainted." I inform her.

She sighs and tries to sit up. I help her. "You okay?"

"Hmmm." She gives me an all purpose answer.

Her face suddenly falls, and she looks awful, almost consumed by something.

"A penny for your thoughts." I ask her gently, not moving from her side. I may as well enjoy being so close to her before she tells me to leave her alone...but she looks so--upset.

"I killed him, I shot him Mister O'Connell..." She begins, her voice and tone hard, but slowly faltering.

Ok then. She's never killed a guy before. How can I explain this to her? "You had to kill him, otherwise he woulda killed you. I shouldn't have given you the gun-" I put my free hand to my head, the other is still in a firm grasp around hers.

"Don't blame yourself. I didn't have to fire it." She told me firmly.

"If ya didn't you'd be dead!" I argued back.

"Well..." She glanced far behind us to where the body was (I had made sure to move her as far away as possible from it), as though she was actually contemplating whether things would have been better if she had died. Then she manages to hoarsely choke out- "I feel awful."

And suddenly she started to cry. Rivers of grief and guilt steadily dripping from her eyes, down her cheeks until she can no longer look at me.

I was crying my eyes out for the man I had killed. For the man I didn't know...

I guess that Mister O'Connell is just looking at me. I manage to look at him, momentarily pulling myself out of my shame. He almost looks concerned. "Hey, it's alright."

And then he's holding me tighter...and I relax in his arms, feeling comfortable...

And then Jonathans appears and we fly apart like the other is on fire.

I wrap my arms around myself to replace the void and lack of warmth that I had been getting from Mister O'Connells embrace.

"Hey Evy!" He grins as he swigs deeply from his bottle. "Good show eh?" He laughs, referring to the ransacking of our camp.

"Hardly. Don't be an idiot and act like you had a good time shooting people-" I begin furiously, my voice rising.

He sits himself down, ignores me, and goes to complete his sentence. "O'Connell..."

"Yeah?" Asks Mister O'Connell, and I can't help but catch his eye, and then blush...He's sitting there, cleaning his gun. We're almost in the same positions as when the Medjai first arrived, minutes before...Except this time, he was holding me...and it felt--right. Even though Jonathan is here, it almost seems as though we are the only people here...

"Thanks for, you know, helping me against those bastards..." tells my brother, his head starting to loll against his chest. I tut angrily at his choice of language.

And then my brother is asleep, snoring gently for a change.

For a while, Mister O'Connell doesn't regard me. He merely carries on cleaning that rather large gun of his, the one that I had fired, and murdered someone with- but I am not going to dwell on that now...

And then, as I look into the fire, daring a glance at the man I am finding myself to be very much attracted to, my mind can't help itself, and begins to actually imagine what it would be like to really kiss the handsome man before me, to be swept off my feet, like in one of those Romantic novels I had bothered to read once.(Historic novels, or factual works being more to my taste and liking. But the romance novel was a gift from my dear brother)

But in those novels, the heroine is always the same: feminine, gracious, not at all clumbsy; which has been of great description for me all of my life.

But the heroes always seem to be like Mister O'Connell, and when the heroine almost gets killed, or kidnapped, the heroic gentleman saves her, and she has the occasional cry, whimper, moan, faint...

Not that it is fair to judge all women to be tearful or perfect, though I had just given a fair display of that earlier... (tearful, not perfect)

Lost in thought, I don't notice him looking at me, his face solemn, then turning into a brief smile...and when I see him, we both look at Jonathan, sound asleep. And when I move closer to the broad American, he doesn't move, but merely moves closer to me, and once again I blush.

I slowly go back into his arms when he offers them. I dare to nestle my face into his shirt, to find the safety and comfort that I could never find with Jonathan when he hugged me. Of course, being held by a complete stranger, strong, handsome and brave though he may be, it is rather a larger difference than to have been weeping and have your brother try to awkwardly hug you, not that I cry often you must understand...

"You okay yet?" He asks me, and with my head on his chest I can feel his words, and not just hear them.

I shake my head. "I murdered someone." I spit angrily, more so at myself for letting this happen.

"He had a sword. He was going to kill you. You acted instinctively. Hey, look at me." He whispers to me, his hand gently rested on my forearm.

I look up at him, and seeing his face so full of- something. Something I cannot describe but have never seen in this mans face before. The lost expression combined with his that matches the way he held and looked at me when we were holding each other before Mister Burns and the other Americans, and act that I thought had occured due to the shock of the raid, and to my being the smallest, weakest and only female member that needed looking after.

But looking at him, I can see that that is different. My previous conception was incorrect, the emotion is there again, so it can't just be coincidence...

"I don't want you to worry. If that guy killed you, d'you think he'd have been worrying? No, but when I found out he sure as hell would be..."

I laugh gently at his threats, and rest closer to him. "You don't mind do you?" I ask quietly, blushing as I speak the words, and afraid of rejection or an acception out of kindness.

"No. Not at all." He answers huskily. "But I don't think I'll be the most comfortable pillow." He chuckles.

I smile to myself, and refrain from answering that I beg to differ.

She's resting her head on my chest, and I have my arm around her. I sigh. Poor girl. I grab the bottle from her brother and take a swig. "Doesn't he know how to share?" I ask.

"No." She laughs half heartedly.

I take another drink from it, and offer it to her. "I know how to share. Would you like some?"

"No thank you. I am not a drinking girl." She informs me proudly, waving the bottle away.

I smile at her. "Really? Is that the case?"

"I don't trust myself around you as it is, let alone with that foul liquour inside me." I hear her mutter. I pretend I don't hear.

I rest the bottle down in the sand, and say- "It's there if you want it."

He had offered me the bottle, and I promptly refused. Why, I would never, and have never, touched that foul liquid. I snuggle closer to him, my head resting gently on his chest.

He still has hold of my hand. His strong, protective hand is around my smaller one. He gently squeezes it and rests his free hand on my back.

It's only because the desert nights are cold, I lie to myself...

A few minutes later, I see her take a small sip, and cough manically. "Eguh! It's foul!" She declares, wiping her mouth gingerly.

"You get used to it." I grin, taking the bottle from her with the hand that was rested on her back and I take another sip.

She follows suit. We sit in silence, finding comfort in each others grasp, and finding warmth from the fire. I feel slightly guilty for telling her to have a sip of the booze I mean, she isn't exactly like the girls I'm used to talking to. They down almost as much as the guys do!

But when I look at Evelyn, I feel sleazy just looking at her. Not in that way...but, I know she's outta my league. I knew that in the prison. That's why I stole that kiss.

She's the best I've ever seen, and probably ever will see.

I'm taken out of my thoughts by her questions of liqour. I tell her that I have had much worse. For instance, home brewed shit that tastes like camel piss. Apparently in the legion, it was the best you could get out of Cairo, but I chose not to tell her that for instance line. She wouldn't approve of my language.

I change the subject. I have a feeble attempt at putting her troubled mind at rest.

"Anyways, it was manslaughter. Accidental killing. You didn't mean to kill him, it was self defence."

"I never was any good at defending myself." She scowls, slurring slightly.

"Well, I can help you there." I grin. "D'you know anything about fighting? Self defence?"

She grins. Good, at least she knows something- "No." She answers. "Not a darn thing."

Now she's sounding like her brother. I stand up, and she attempts to, so I pull her up.

"Right, I'll teach you how to punch, okay? Now bulb your fist up like this-" I show her. "And swing. You gotta mean it though. No good throwing a clumbsy punch. Mean it."

"I mean it!" She calls as she swings for my open palm. She hits it and the force of her own punch sends her back into into my arms.

"You okay?" I ask again, helping her sit down.

"Fine." She replies meekly, not taking her grasp off my arm.

I land in his arms after my punch. The whole place seems to be spinning- not a very pleasant experience I'll have you know!

Well, the sore head isn't pleasant, but being in his arms is- no, I mustn't think like that. He is just our guide, yes, a slight attraction is there, but nothing that would ever develop, I'm sure of it.

But against my determination, I find myself gazing at him, and he offers me the bottle again. "No no, unlike my brother sir, I know when to say no!" I reply grandly, having another little sip and then shaking my head, deciding that that's enough. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and listen intently as he talks to me.

"Yes, and unlike your brother Miss," He points to the currently passed out Jonathan. "You I just don't get."

"Hmm?" I raise an eyebrow, and motion for him to continue.

"I know he's here for riches, but why are you here for a damned book?"

Ooooh! Riches and gold and treasure aren't everything! Silly man.

"My father, was a very famous explorer! He found, Tutankhamuns tomb!" I nod, and sigh remembering my parents. "He loved Egypt, so much that he married my mother, who was an Egyptian, and quite an adventurer herself."

As I told him of my family, I was showing him my locket. The locket that they had given me so, that in picture form, they would always be close to me.

"Right." He closes the locket and lets it fall back against my chest. "I get your father, and I get your mother, I get him-" He points to Jon again. "But you, I still don't get."

"Oooh!" I cry angrily, getting up haphazardly. So much so that he has to push me up from behind to keep me up! "I may not be an explorer, a treasure hunter or a gun fighter, Mister O'Connell! Put I am proud of what I am..."

"And what is that?" He asks, in that deep voice of his.

"I-" I pause. What am I? " I am a LIBRARIAN!" I nod proudly, and I fall to my knees.

I look intently into his lovely blue eyes. It's like I am swimming in them, lost and intoxicated in his muscular build, and looking at his lips, his full lips...

Soft lips, from when I last remember. And very kissable...

I look into her beautiful hazel eyes. God, she's gorgeous. "You mean you're a drunk librarian." I chuckle. I find myself looking at her in the moonlight that has managed to reach the city, a city that no stars or moon shine directly upon. I watch her in the warm glow of the fire that shows the blush in her cheeks, and that frames her smile.

A smile that soon vanishes, to my dismay.

She frowns and looks hurt, then slightly loosens the grip she'd taken on my arm. "That's not a nice thing to say Mister O'Connell."

I smile at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She lets me wrap an arm around her, and after a while I began to think about kissing her again.

"When were you planning on kissing me again, Mister O'Connell?" She asks, scarily reading my mind, and quiet enough for me to pretend that I didn't hear if I didn't wish to answer.

I can't exactly say "I was planning on erm..right now" can I? So, I reply-

"When you decide to start calling me Rick."

"Rick." She breathes, her hand rested on my chest. "Rick...I'm going to kiss you, Rick..."

She tilts her head up towards mine, her eyes closing slowly.

I can tell she's going to fall asleep any minute. I want her to remember when I kiss her, and I guess it was good at the time...but she won't thank me in the morning if she can't remember our second kiss; the first having been in unforgivable circumstances, which she probably wanted to forget about entirely.

There are so many things I want to tell her, but I want to tell her them when she will remember them, I know too well what it's like to do something, forget what you did in a state of inebreihation, and then get the consequences of it later.

I slowly lower her down, so that she is lying on the woolen fabric. She smiles gently at me.

"Goodnight...Rick..." She says softly. And as she says those words, my heart melts.

"G'night Evelyn." I reply, as I watch her close her eyes, and be lost to sleep.

I watch her sleep. I don't think I'd get any sleep anyways after our almost kiss, and I need to make sure that those Medjai don't come back.

That's it exactly, the fact that I want to protect her has nothing to do with that fact that whenever I am near her, everything seems right.

It has nothing to do with that fact that whenever she speaks, I listen intently. Or that whenever she speaks, I am filled with the desire to kiss her soft lips...

It has nothing to do with the fact that when I kissed her, it was like no other kiss.

It has nothing to do with that fact, that I may be in love with a slightly tipsy librarian...

I'm not a liar, I am many things, but I'm not that. I can sometimes lie to myself, but she is one damn thing that I can't lie about. I need to tell her how I feel, I need to tell her that...

Three words that spark dread into guys like me, but right now, I have no fear. Right, that's my plan. I'm going to talk to her tomorrow, and hopefully she'll remember our second kiss when it happens.

I look into the still glowing embers, as I have done for a few hours now. The silence is golden, so I jump when I hear the movement. As my arm instinctively reaches for my revolver, I look quickly at Evelyn, to find her slowly rolling onto her side. Making a weird noise.

She's crying.

"Evelyn...?" I whisper gently. She is sobbing harder now, her shoulders are shaking. Or perhaps she's cold. "Evelyn?"

She stops crying for a moment. "Yes?" She asks, her voice so quiet I have to strain to hear her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She swallows. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"Nah, I couldn't sleep anyway."

I know she's lying. You don't just cry like that for no reason.

I try to stifle my sobs. "I'm sorry all the same." I answer again, mainly because the silence between us needs to be broken.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" He asks me, voice full of concern.

"I'm cold." I find myself replying, as a breeze flutters through the city.

I feel something next to me, and then I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Do you want me to get you some blankets?"

"No, it's unfair to take them from someone else. I imagine that I should be able to manage." I say, burying my face in my woollen cover.

She burys her head and I don't know what to do. Under my touch, she's shivering. Eventually she sits up.

"The fire is still going..." She mutters dazily.

"Yeah, I kept it alight." I answer.

She moves to sit closer to me, almost daring to see how close she can come. She is obviously exhausted, and the alcohol doesn't seem to have helped, although she seems to have slept most of it off.

I hesitantly put my arm around her, and let her head rest against me. I pull the shawl-like-blanket around her shoulders, and soon I sense that she is warming up.

"Feel better?" I ask in a hushed tone so as not to disturb her if she is trying to sleep.

"Much." She replies sleepily.

I watch her face as it is being lit by the embers. So looks so beautiful, it's hard not to kiss her right now...

I sense his gaze upon me, so I slowly look up. I can't say that I ever expected this to happen on our little trip. I have finally found someone...not that I have been searching you see. I am more into my books and studying than searching for my soul mate...

My thoughts halt suddenly when my mind finally realises with shock, pleasure and content what's going to happen.

As I look intently into his ocean blue eyes, I tilt my head up towards his...

Lost in her eyes, I lean down, and let her lips touch mine. She returns the kiss as I caress her cheek, the way that I did when the medjai left after their raid tonight.

The way she's kissing me, I can tell she means it.

My lips are locked with his, his hand is caressing my cheek, and everything is perfect.

He slowly begins to kiss me, and I know that all my imagination's ideas of kissing this man, where no where near as good as it truly is...

"Evelyn." He says gently, his breath tickling my neck.

"Hmm?" I ask, not only intoxicated by the liqour, but by him.

"Hmm?" She replies, looking expectantly at me.

"There's something I need to tell you, to talk to you about..." I whisper.

Of late, these feelings that I have been getting have been confusing me. She isn't the kind of girl I'd of thought I'd like. When I saw her at the prison, first impressions weren't that bad. But then again, she did have that hat hiding her face... thank god that in this case first impressions don't last.

Before I get to finish my sentence, my lips are halted mid word by her finger being pressed against them. I notice that she's swaying slightly with sleep.

"Shhhhh." She whispers.

This kiss wasn't a mistake...afterall it was her idea; and if I go by what her brother says, she's never wrong.

I smile, amused by her facial expression- she looks blissfully happy. She smiles that lovely smile back, and it's true- I've fallen in love with the girl I mistakenly dismissed as not a total loss. The feeling I get inside whenever she looks at me...it must be it.

I just look at her, and when I go to speak, I find myself stopped once again, but this time not by her shushing, but by her smart little mouth.

I want to kiss him again...until I do, until I know for sure that this did happen, that he really kissed me, then I can't listen to what he wants to tell me...

Without realising it, I find my lips attached to his, and he doesn't seem to mind, as he returns it.

It's all very peculiar this- I would never have dreamt of kissing someone off the bat in this way! He doesn't seem to be recoiled, if anything, he's enjoying it.

I feel his hand find its way to the hollow of my back and rest there. I rest my hands on his shoulders as he deepens the kiss. We stay like that for what seems like forever, sitting next to the fire and I certainly don't want it to stop.

Slowly, our kiss comes to an end, until my face is mere centimetres from his.

"Evelyn, I need to tell you something..." He begins, sounding slightly distracted.

I look at him intently. He coughs gently, as though working himself up to something...

My mind is racing...what does he mean?

After the expedition I may never see her again. I look at the fire, and then back at her. Her face slowly forms into the most content smile I have ever seen her wear.

"I like you Evelyn, you're not a total loss." Wow, what a way to wuss out O'Connell.

"I'm rather fond of you aswell Mister O'Connell. Your behaviour is rather intoxicating."

He grins. I smile gently. This is so unexpected. Yes that is the correct word to use. Unexpected.

And what happens next is also rather unexpected...