This is my first fanfic outside of NCIS...I watched the Night at the Museum sequel and had loved the romance between Amelia and Larry. So now I'm hooked. Especially after finding out about there being a possible writing for a third movie. So here's how I would write it...

Disclaimer: I own nothing...except for the brilliant idea of what museum it's held at and the character Myth. Although...I wouldn't mind if the writers took a gander at this, maybe get some of their gears turning on this idea...

"What's the rumpus ace?"

He was sure he was dreaming, it was all déjà vu, the motor of the Harley was thrumming underneath him, the red curls were poking out from the aviatrix's helmet, the shine of adventure in her deep ocean-blue eyes glinting as four spears just barely missed her. It was odd, there were some parts of the dream where he could hear her speaking, and then it was like someone hit the mute button. Then that someone hit fast-forward and started up again. He was looking into the deep blue eyes. He never knew that there was a small circle of pale sapphire going into a sea foam green in them encircling the pupil.

The sound was turned back on as he asked, "What?"

"Nothing," she said, sounding like she was in a daze.

He already knew what was going to happen, but it was still nice to repeat it, "Okay, why are you looking at me then?"

"I don't want to miss a moment," she replied in the same state; it looked like her eyes were glazing over.

"Alright then we should go then because-," he hand came out of nowhere, slapping him, "OW! Why?"

"You talk to much ace," she said, pulling toward him and planting her lips on his. She ended the kiss and looked at him, "I don't know why I just did that Mr. Daley, but I just feel as though I've been asleep for a long time and now suddenly…I'm awake."

"Uh-huh, I can explain that," Larry began, but her hand covered over his mouth.

"Shhh," she said, turning her face away from him.

He felt a little shocked about the slap-and-kiss, but he was still able to keep his mind on the important thing, Jed needed help. He tried to talk around her hand, but she just slapped him again, "Ow! Again, why-?"

She was kissing him again. It wasn't like it was anything new to the Larry who was dreaming, but the Larry in the dream was thinking "What was this woman's deal?" Then his mind kind of shut down in the middle of the kiss.

The dream lurched forward again, only this time, he could only hear conversations. He could picture them clearly enough to where it didn't matter much though.

"You don't really let yourself enjoy things in life, do you Mr. Daley?"

The dream went forward by only about five minutes.

"Criminy we're jimmy-jacked!" she said, and he could see her leaning against the directory of the Smithsonian as the soldiers ran to the entrance of the Air and Space museum.

"Jimmy-jacked?" he asked.

"It's the way I speak," she shot back defensively.

"Yeah, but that sounds made up even for you," Larry said.

"'Oh no, our path has been blocked by bad men', oh what is the fun in that?!" she said, monotonously and punching him as she sounded back to herself. It was odd because he couldn't see it but he could feel it.

He could feel everything…including the kiss from the Art museum…it was like the controller of the dream-who definitely wasn't him-had put a repeat on it.

The dream must've fast forwarded again because it was a different conversation being held when she said it. The line that would cause him to come back to the Museum of Natural History as a night guard again.

"I think that the only one here who is lost," she said, "Is you Mr. Daley."

It was when they were trying to figure out whether to take the Mars Rover or her Lockheed Vega. Larry remembered how he was accused for being afraid to fly in general. But he ended up telling her how he was truly afraid of flying with her, because of her famed disappearance over the Devil's Sea. She replied to him saying that she was never lost, as long as the clear blue sky surrounded her when she was doing what she loved, she was and never would be lost.

The picture came back after that, they were back in New York, and all the museum exhibits were making their way back inside. He wasn't paying much attention to them though; he was watching her climb out of her plane.

They just stood there, looking at each other. Mute was back on, because the wordless conversations exchanging in their eyes were what mattered most. He knew he was going to have to tell her that when the morning came she wasn't going to be alive anymore, and she knew he had to tell her something. She had always known what was coming for her though. He had to hand it to her, she was smart and witty, and she was…just wonderful.

The sound decided to come back when she was hugging him, and she said into his ear, "Have fun."

She stepped back and they were just looking at each other. He knew he was grinning big time, because his cheek started hurting. Ironically it was the same cheek she slapped twice. But it was a bittersweet pain. He pulled her to him for the goodbye kiss they knew was making its way to them.

"Hmph…?" she hummed, sounding extremely pleased. Larry had an idea what she was thinking. He had his moxie back, there was no doubt about it; and she was mostly part of the reason he got it back.

She got back into the plane and started up the Vega, and it was slowly starting its way down the street. He knew she was going to be steering into the wrong direction.

What he didn't know was that the dream was holding an alternate ending.

The plane was all of a sudden in flames, and he was running toward it. Everything was smashed and he couldn't see any trace of her. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. She was standing behind him, a little out of sorts. Her hand was melting, along with everything else.

Then the sun rose and the whole dream fell away into dust.

And Larry woke up in a cold sweat…his clock reading 1:23 in the afternoon.

What had the nightmarish memory/dream mean?

Then he heard knocking at the door. Larry checked his clock again and forgot he had a date. He kicked back the sheets and started to dress, trying to forget the images of the burning plane and the look on her face.

It was fearful…

Amelia was never one to look afraid…ever.

He wasn't sure what worried him more, the dream or the fact that he was going to have to forget about her.

Let me know what you all think! Also, if the dialogue isn't correct, my apologies, I had to remember from memory because I don't have the movie with me at the moment to watch off of.