So the Beni bug got under my skin, so I kinda had to get it out of my system before it drove me nuts. I'm throwing Daniels and Beni together for a little "bonding". Obviously, since they don't interact much onscreen, that's my ultimate intention with this fic. Daniels and Beni are such a volatile mix too, it's too tempting to pass up. :P I'm in an extra happy mood today too, and when I'm happy, I write a lot, so...yah. There'll be a few elements from both the movie and novel in here. Set after the campfire and before Evy reads from the book.

Brunette and Lyrical Ballads, since your never-ending love for Beni inspired me to write this, I dedicate this to you both. ;)

Daniels, Beni/The Mummy: (c) Stephen Sommers

Ostoba fattyú is "stupid/foolish bastard" in Hungarian

Earthly Gains And Godly Desires

Uncomfortable. That was the only word to perfectly describe his entire current state of being. He had to get away from it, couldn't stand the pleasant falsities being exchanged around the fire, acting like they were all good, old friends. Not to mention those horrifying, rancid rats that were roasting in the flames. And her yarn about those ancient, flesh-eating bugs...He shuddered, felt his skin crawl, the lovely psychological effect that came with the tale. That's it, I'm done here. Daniels stood up, stretched, and walked away.

"Where the hell're ya goin'?" It was Henderson, calling after him.

Daniels waved him off, didn't stop. "I'm turnin' in fer the night. Arm's killin' me." He heard Henderson say something else, but he paid no attention. The bullet wound in his left arm was hurting, but speaking his mind about his real reason for removing himself wasn't worth the argument that was sure to come out of it. He wanted some time alone anyway, some peace that he could escape into his thoughts with.

He had had enough of his competitor-in-brawn O'Connell, Miss Know-it-all Evelyn and her insufferable clodpate of a brother Jonathan, for the night.

He took to the tent, put away the canopic jar he had found earlier that day, and set up his spot to sleep, made sure it would accommodate his wounded appendage comfortably for the night. When he was satisfied, he came out of the tent, stood under the lantern hanging from it. Out came the flask from his pocket, and he took a generous swig from it. He relished the smooth way it went down, found himself aching suddenly for a cigarette. He threw the flask into the tent and dug through his other pockets, hoping he might've slipped a few smokes into them. So far he came up empty-handed until he checked his back pocket. Instead of a cigarette though, he pulled out something flimsy, papery. He held it under the lantern light, surprised himself in learning what it was.

It was a photograph of his fiancée, Gracie.

Truth be told, he had forgotten that he had put it there. Looking at it made him realize just how badly he wanted to strike it rich out in the Lost City. So much so, that he had all but forgotten about the one thing more precious to him than any amount of gold. He sighed wistfully, felt a small hole opening up inside him. Soon baby, soon. I'll be comin' home. An' you're gonna love me even more when I come home a Goddamn millionaire. He allowed a huge smile to crawl across his face, for a moment feeling the melancholy fade away. Yes you will.

The pleasant air about him though quickly dissipated, replaced by what sounded like someone or something shuffling towards him from out of the deep shadows before him. He felt his hackles rise, thought about the kinds of things that dwelled in the desert, waiting for the perfect moment to overtake the unsuspecting explorers. Much like those black-clad warriors that practically obliterated the camps the previous night.

Hoping his brave move wouldn't also be counted as regrettably stupid, he demanded, "Alright, who's there? Show yer damn self!"

Silence.

"I'll shoot!" A huge bluff, considering he had left both his pistols in the tent.

"Don't shoot!" The plea carried an annoyingly familiar tone in it, and Daniels found himself itching with irritation upon realizing who it was. He watched as Beni crept slowly into the light of the lantern, cowering with his hands on his head. He almost wished he had his gun now, disappointed on the missed opportunity to open fire on the little weasel, something he'd been wanting to do since the day they met.

After savoring the immense relief of discovering there was no threat, Daniels then focused his mind on the vexation that was now channeling through him. "What the hell are you doin' sneakin' around here?"

Beni had seen it coming. He just did not expect to be caught by Daniels, of all people. He cringed under the piercing glare of the man's eyes, made all the more disturbing by the eerie glow the lantern cast upon them. Of course he would not tell Daniels he was doing his own looking around, using the intense darkness to shield his movements. It worked out nicely having everyone gathered at the fire, so he snuck off when he was sure no one would care about his absence. That way, he figured, he would be free from the cruel epithets of his American clientele and the scrutinizing eyes of O'Connell at least for a little while. He was not without a contingency excuse though. "I was looking for more rats to cook. We're out."

Daniels sneered in repulsion, his stomach turning as the awful aroma of the charred rodents revisited his nasal cavity. "Takes one to catch one, I s'pose." He looked Beni over, arched a suspicious eyebrow. "Don't look like ya found any."

Sensing that maybe Daniels wasn't buying it, Beni frantically searched for a way to extricate himself from a potentially verbal (and possibly physical) ass-reaming. He caught sight of what Daniels was holding in his hand, what appeared to be a photo of a woman. Seeing the opportunity to change the subject, Beni said composedly, "What a lovely wife you have."

Daniels, forgetting he had the photo out, quickly pocketed it, the thought of Beni's greedy eyes feasting upon his lovely Gracie feeling like an ugly violation. "She ain't my wife. But she's gonna be."

"Ah." What a surprise. There is a woman out there who wants to marry this soulless brute. "She is very beautiful."

Daniels scoffed. "Yeah well, she ain't yer type. Don't go puttin' any filthy thoughts a' her in that flea-infested head a' yers."

Beni held up his hands. "Not at all, my good sahib. I have my own beautiful wife and wonderful children to think about." That couldn't be further from the truth, but Daniels didn't need to know Beni actually had several women waiting for him "to come back home", all of them completely unaware of each other's presence in Beni's life. Let's see: there's Mamie, Lisbeth, Sarai, Anita... No offspring existed; at least, none that he knew of.

But Daniels didn't looked convinced at all. "You? Married? With kids?" He folded his arms over his chest, albeit with some difficulty thanks to his wound. "Ya think it's funny feedin' me a bull-faced lie like that?"

"I swear on their very lives!" Beni insisted.

"Ya got somethin' to show for it then?" Daniels sneered, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Beni turned his eyes away, his voice full of self-righteousness. "That she has chosen to be with me is all the proof I need."

Daniels scoffed again. "Yeah, well she must have some pretty darn low expectations. Guess she has no worries about catchin' a disease too."

Beni looked wounded. "At least she appreciates my appeal."

Daniels snorted disgustedly. "Ya have about as much appeal as those fried rats. Both of you leave an unsettled, nasty feelin' in my stomach that makes me sick every time I think of ya."

Beni shrugged, adjusted the fez on his head. "Not everyone looks through the same eyes, barat'm."

Daniels felt his shoulders tighten, absolutely hated Beni's use of the term on him. "Why do ya keep callin' me that?" he snapped, baring his teeth in a canine-like fashion.

"You should feel honored! It is a title of great respect in my home country," Beni answered.

"Yeah, well, we ain't in Holland now, are we?"

"Hungary."

"What?"

"Hungary. I am Hungarian."

Daniels waved him off aggregately. "An' I'm Scottish-American, but do I call you President Dundee? Holland, Hung'ry, I don't give a good Goddamn. Stop callin' me that!" His voice grew louder with his last words, and it made Beni flinch back, almost displacing his fez. Daniels smirked darkly, delighting in striking fear into the little man. For a few tense seconds, he just stared at Beni, the illusion of total authority becoming more tangible to him now. Wielding the power of fear over Beni was too easy. "Ye're the most cow-hearted dolt I ever encountered. I wouldn't be surprised if you're afraid a' yer own Goddamn shadow. No wonder ya get spooked so easily."

Unlike Daniels, Beni had a healthy (if somewhat neurotic) reverence for the unearthly stirrings of nature, his superstitions entwined with his faith in religion. As much as he could care less about his American associates, their blatant insolence towards the ancient workings of the old world perturbed him greatly. "It is not fear that drives me. It is respect."

"Oh give me a break. You ran outta that chamber faster than a scared hare from a fox," Daniels sniffed. "I hardly call that respect."

Beni shook his head, tried to sound as serious as possible. "I'm sure there is more down there than just gold."

"Jesus, you sound jus' like that superstitious quack, Chamberlin," Daniels huffed exasperatedly. "Well, you ran outta there hollerin' like a schoolgirl, so now you'll probably never find out."

"Then I'll find out elsewhere," Beni muttered. Somewhere that isn't cursed.

"What was that?"

"Might I suggest looking elsewhere? I'm sure there are more boxes just waiting to be desecrated," Beni offered carefully.

The pretentious sneer crossed Daniels's face again. "You really are a stupid, superstitious little bastard, aren't ya?"

Beni shrugged, looked down at his feet. Superstitious, yes. A stupid bastard? That would be you.

Daniels continued gruffly, "Ya believe in God?"

"I believe in many things." And in whatever will save my ass the quickest. Beni kept his many religious amulets hidden beneath his shirt, including a Buddhist Bodhisattva, a Hindu Brama, the Star of David and a Christian crucifix. Trying to explain any one of them to the hopelessly skeptical Daniels would be a lost cause. "I have no partiality to any one faith."

"Yeah well, I'm a Baptist, an' I believe in bein' smart," Daniels said, tapping his temple. "God don't help numbskull cowards like you. He shakes His head and wonders what He did wrong during the Creation process," he sniffed. "Such shame fer Him to feel."

Beni didn't seem to take offense. "God helps those who help themselves," he said. "And He does not discriminate in the time of need."

"So ya think God's gonna save yer ass from whatever you think is out here?"

"I would gladly pray to Odin and Zeus if it would save my ass."

Daniels snarled. "Don't get smart with me, boy. You keep that up an' not even the Good Lord can save ya from what I'm capable a' doin' to you." Growing weary and frustrated with this theological merry-go-round, not to mention he was sick of Beni's company, he decided that now was an appropriate time to call it a night. "I don't believe you was tryin' to find no Goddamn rats. I think ye're jus' makin' a bigger nuisance of yerself by creepin' around in the dark like that. Ye're more trouble than ye're worth, ya know that?"

"You trusted me enough to hire me," Beni said innocently, shrugging his thin shoulders helplessly.

Daniels growled deeply, glaring at him menacingly as the words bubbled up in his chest. "Git the hell outta my sight."

"Alright, I'm going," Beni answered quickly, hiding his relief as he slunk past the irate yank and his glowering eyes. When Daniels turned to enter the tent, Beni couldn't resist adding, "Have many pleasant dreams. I'll be sure to compliment your wife when I see her in mine."

The words in his ears dissolved into his bloodstream, making it boil inside him as Daniels impulsively grabbed his revolver and whipped the flap of the tent back. "What did you say?" he hissed through his clenched teeth.

But Beni was gone.

He stole away into the darkness, deciding it would be safer to return to the camp once all three Americans were stone-cold asleep, especially Daniels. As much as he resented the man and the sinister pleasure he took in threatening his life on a constant basis, Beni still seriously lacked the guts to tell Daniels to back off. "Ostoba fattyú," the exhausted guide muttered to himself, leaning up against one of the many crumbling pillars dotting the site. His anger will surely kill him, if his ignorance does not first.

"Perhaps it will kill them all." Beni had a pretty good feeling that any more tampering with what was down in the Anubis chamber would unleash whatever evil was contained in there. And when it did escape, Beni would be nowhere near it and free of any of the possible repercussions that were sure to follow. The foolhardy Americans would have no guide to help them through this time; they would be on their own.

But then again, Beni hoped the Americans would live long enough for him to see the second half of his payment from them. He also simultaneously hoped that he would snag his own plunder should they find any of this "hidden wealth" stashed beneath the City. Like killing two birds with one stone. Beni closed his eyes, slid down the wall of the pillar until he sunk into the soft sand. A longing sigh escaped his mouth. He had spent too many years clawing and scraping his way out of the dire poverty that plagued the slummiest districts of Budapest to continue living the life of a penniless vagrant. Perhaps all his experience with thieving and pickpocketing and perfecting the art of conning might finally pay off for him. Then I will be the one whom everyone wants to steal from. And, perhaps, every woman would want him. He let himself drift off, his mind afloat with the many images of wealth and power that dominated his train of thought.

About one hundred feet away, the pistol was still twitching in Daniels's hand as he pointed it dumbly into the swallowing darkness before him, the rage still coursing through his veins. He wasn't about to chase Beni around the camp, but at the same time, he didn't feel like playing sharpshooter either, waiting to pick off Beni the moment he stepped back into view. Exhaling heavily, Daniels retreated back into the tent, putting the firearm away and laying himself down. A brisk breeze swept through the tent, chilling him to the bone and reminding him of just how cold the desert could get at night. "Goddamnit," he grumbled, curling up into himself to lock in any warmth. At this point, Grace popped back into his head, wishing her body could be there beside his, wrapped up in each other's arms. Soon baby, soon.

His fatigue was beginning to overpower him, but before he lost himself completely to siesta, he couldn't help but dwell an extra minute on Beni and his nervous insistence that there was more than just earthly treasure beneath the sands of Hamunaptra. Unlike Beni, there was nothing about the place that put a permanent sense of fright into Daniels. Despite the salt acid incident and the battle with the black-cloaked assassins, Daniels was able to recover much quicker from the shock of it all and did not let it bother him in the way it did Beni. He's only gonna slow us all down with his hocus-pocus nonsense. As long as that cowardly lil' runt stays outta my way, I don't give a shit what he does now. He shoved Beni's image out of his head, allowing his final thoughts to consist of the reward that waited for him under the ruins and in bed at home. His eyelids fluttered, his mouth dropped open, and within minutes he was out.

The last little tongues of withering flame from the lantern light finally burned out, and all that remained now was darkness.