Archive of Our Own

Jonathan spends no small amount of time thoroughly panicking in the en-suite bathroom. Normally, he’d have escaped and gone slinking off to his own room by now, except somehow he’s broken the cardinal rule of one night stands and brought his companion back to same, thereby effectively removing the option of a quick exit.

“Evy’s right, you are an idiot,” he tells his reflection in the mirror. “Of all the things you’ve managed to survive, how could you let this happen?!”

His reflection neglects to provide a useful answer, but he does, however, hear the faint sounds of what appears to be someone stirring in the next room. Against his better judgement, he opens the door and pokes his head out.

Ardeth Bay is sitting up in bed, the blankets pooling around his waist and his muscles flexing enticingly when he stretches. As Jonathan watches, he shakes his head, causing his tousled curls to momentarily fall into his eyes. 

Jonathan has to bite down on a sudden urge to whimper as he remembers what happened the first time he’d buried his hands in those curls the night before.

Oh, you’ve really done it this time, old boy, he thinks to himself, right before Ardeth turns to look at him. Dark, piercing eyes regard him from behind a fringe of even darker hair, and Jonathan tries to mentally brace himself for the inevitable letdown.

“Good morning,” Ardeth says, his voice rough. “Did you sleep well?”

Ah, yes, that’s right. Unlike most of Jonathan’s non-familial associates, Ardeth has manners. Of course he’s the type to be polite even in the face of being confronted with his astronomical mistakes.

“Yeah, yes, uh - very well, thanks.” Jonathan manages to stutter out. “And, uh, you?”

“The same,” Ardeth says, but there’s a slow smile crawling across his face. It’s the same one Jonathan remembers seeing directed at him the night before during the reception dinner. The one that had arguably lead to all this trouble in the first place. 

“The bed was extremely comfortable,” Ardeth says then. “Albeit unfortunately empty when I woke up.”

Jonathan sputters, taken aback by the words, and Ardeth clearly decides to use this to his advantage. Tossing the linens aside, he climbs out of bed and strides across the room until he’s very much in Jonathan’s personal space.

“Oh god,” Jonathan says, and it’s the last coherent sentence he makes before Ardeth crowds him up against the doorframe and proceeds to make him forget every word he knows, including his own name.

*****

They order room service after because that’s just how Jonathan’s life is these days.

“That was delicious,” Ardeth says once he’s cleaned his plate. “I don’t often have the opportunity to stay in hotels, but I feel like the food at this one is better than most.”

“Yes, well, we are here for a wedding,” Jonathan notes. “That’s usually a step above one’s everyday vacation.”

“Indeed.” Ardeth agrees. “Your sister looked lovely yesterday. I hope she and O’Connell are very happy together.”

Jonathan pictures Evy as she’d looked the day before, standing hand in hand with Rick, a beaming smile on her face while he stared back at her like she’d hung the moon. “I’m sure they will be,” he says around a sudden lump in his throat.

“Mm,” Ardeth hums to himself. “And what of you?” He asks then. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen you, and we didn’t do much talking last night. Are you still up to your old tricks?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you might mean by that,” Jonathan sniffs. “I’ll have you know, I’m as perfectly respectable as ever.”

“Yes,” Ardeth says dryly, though it’s impossible to miss the slight twinkle in his eye. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Oh, really now,” Jonathan digs an admonishing elbow into his side, figuring that’s probably allowed so long as they remain in their current intimate setting. “Way to kick a man when he’s down.”

Ardeth raises a single, questioning eyebrow. “Why are you down?” He asks quietly.

“You mean aside from the general state of the world and all that entails?” Jonathan asks glibly. “I’m not, really. Just feeling a little at sea, I suppose. Or perhaps like an undesired tag along now that Evy’s moving on with her life.”

“Not that it’s much of a surprise, obviously,” he’s quick to add. “She and O’Connell were a foregone conclusion from almost the moment they met. You should have seen the eyes they were making at each other on our way to Hamunaptra. Positively ghastly, the pair of them.”

“I more so noticed the eyes they were making at each other as they were leaving Hamunaptra,” Ardeth replies with a smirk that sets Jonathan cackling.

“Quite right,” he says, nudging the other man with his shoulder. “Who knew you had such a nasty sense of humour lurking under that tough exterior? It’s a pity we don’t run into each other more often.”

He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth thanks to how needy they make him sound. As pleased as he is to have extended yesterday’s one night stand into the morning, he knows better than to think it’s going to happen again. Jonathan Carnahan is not that luckily.

Ardeth, however, simply shrugs. “If you intend to stick around, then perhaps we shall.”

*****

Ardeth departs not long after that, citing urgent business he needs to attend to. Jonathan does them both the kindness of not calling him out on his little white lie, and opts to spend a bit more time resting after his strenuous evening.

The problem with that, however, is that Ardeth may be gone, but the sheets still smell of him, and every time he closes his eyes Jonathan feels a phantom touch from the night before. Eventually, he’s forced to give up on sleep and get up for the day.

Grumbling to himself, he gets dressed and then makes his way into the hall, finally trudging down to the foyer where he’s surprised to find Evy fussing with a bag.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she says when she spots him. “I was afraid I’d have to go get you myself, and I wasn’t certain what state I’d find you in. Do you have a moment?”

For his little sister, fresh off her wedding night and still aglow with marital bliss, Jonathan has all the time in the world. Not that he’d ever tell her that, mind you. Nevertheless, he gestures her towards a nearby set of unoccupied armchairs, asking about the location of her husband as he does so.

“Rick’s gone to fetch the rest of our luggage,” she says, twisting a pair of thin gloves in her hands. “We’re supposed to depart for Paris within the hour, you see.”

“Yes, I recall,” Jonathan assures her, though why they’ve opted to honeymoon in the most cliched city imaginable he truly has no idea. Somehow he suspects the fault lies with Rick. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“No, not about any of it!” Evy insists, only her handwringing has now become more pronounced. “It’s just - I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a snag.”

“Define snag,” Jonathan says.

Evy makes an exasperated sound. “Well, as you know, I’ve been acting as curator at the museum ever since the last one ...”

“Perished at the hands of the teeming undead?” Jonathan finishes helpfully when she stalls out. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it, Evy. We were both there.”

“Yes, well, regardless of how I came to hold the position, you are aware that’s what I’ve been up to, aren’t you?” At his ensuing nod, she smiles brightly. “Excellent! How would you like to fill in for me while I’m gone?”

“Come again?” Half convinced she’s joking, Jonathan waits for a punchline that never ends up coming. Instead, what he gets is more handwringing.

“The person who was supposed to take the job unexpectedly can’t make it. I’ve only just found out, and there’s no way I can get someone else to do it on such short notice. You, though, you know enough about the field to do a passable job for the few weeks I’ll need, and it’s not like you’re up to anything of importance at the moment.”

Jonathan snorts. “As always, Evelyn, my dear sister, you cut me to the quick without even trying.”

“Oh Jonathan, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” she rushes to say. “It’s only that I’m truly in a bind here, and I’m afraid I’m quite tied in knots about the whole thing. Rick is so looking forward to this trip.”

And that answers Jonathan’s question about whose idea Paris was, he supposes. It also apparently clears up the issue of how he’s going to be spending the next month or so of his time. Never let it be said that he doesn’t rise to the occasion when the situation calls for it.

“Oh, of course I’ll do it,” he tells her. “As you say, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do right now, and for once it might be nice to have your brute of a husband be the one to owe me a favour. How does that sound?”

The force of her resulting hug damn near sends him tumbling out of his seat.

*****

Being a museum curator is dreadfully dull. Jonathan’s been at it for two whole weeks now, and he’s about ready to tear his hair out from sheer boredom. At this point, he wouldn’t say no to the odd reanimated corpse or two showing up.

“For the record, I’d like to be clear, I don’t actually mean that,” he says aloud as soon as the thought passes through his head. “Once was enough, thanks.”

The museum, as it has so far for the entirety of his tenure, remains resolutely silent.

“Right then,” Jonathan adds. “Good.”

Except good in this instance still equates to boring, and a bored Jonathan Carnahan is one that’s all too good at getting into trouble. Rather than give in to that urge, he opts to stand up from the desk at which he’s been sitting twiddling his thumbs, and go for a walk about the building.

There’s not a soul to be found in any of the galleries aside from a few members of the staff. He can’t recall if Evy’d ever told him what level of foot traffic the place normally aspires to, but if this is typical it’s a wonder it’s still afloat. On the other hand, all the mummy activity of recent years may have acted as a distinct turn off.

“Unless you’re my dear sister, that is.” Jonathan mutters, scuffing one booted foot over the floor as he goes. “The woman’s probably going out of her mind without any sarcophagi to poke her nose into in France.”

Sighing deeply, he considers heading back to his ‘office’ to pour himself a stiff drink for lack of anything better to do, but decides he may as well finish his circuit now that he’s started it. The only place left - minus the cavernous storage rooms - is the library Evy’d made such a mess of right before Hamunaptra.

Jonathan’s expecting the library to be as empty as the rest of the place, and is therefore surprised to find a lone figure seated at one of the desks. He’s even more surprised when he realizes who it is.

“What in the world are you doing here?” He asks, voice coming out slightly higher than is perhaps warranted. At least this unexpected visitor isn’t one who’s likely to try and do him harm.

Barely seeming to move a muscle, Ardeth raises his head from where he’s had it buried in a particularly dull looking book, and slowly shifts his gaze to the side. “Your sister gave me blanket permission to use this place for research whenever it was warranted,” he says. “Didn’t she tell you?”

She most assuredly had not, Jonathan thinks, and if she had he’d definitely have thought twice before agreeing to help her out with her little issue. He’d been banking on it being months, if not years before he saw Ardeth again. Two weeks is nowhere near enough time to let any residual awkwardness from their recent assignation fade.

And of course the man looks as devastatingly handsome as ever. He couldn’t have gone and gotten mildly disfigured in some skirmish, or at least turned out not to live up to the memories that have been circling around in Jonathan’s head ever since the Event. No, if anything, he’s more attractive than before.

Realizing he’s let the silence go on too long, Jonathan attempts to lean an arm casually over a nearby bookshelf. Unfortunately, because his luck is forever what it is, he misses and very nearly sends himself tumbling to the ground.

“I’m fine,” he yelps when Ardeth makes an aborted move to get up. “Nothing to worry about. Totally alright as you can see.”

“Hmm,” Ardeth says, eyeing him thoughtfully while Jonathan makes a show of brushing some imaginary lint off his jacket. “If you say so.”

“I jolly well do say so,” Jonathan replies. “And to answer your earlier question, no. Evy neglected to mention that you might be around, which was damned rude of her if I may say so. Not that it’s a problem, I assure you. It’s just my poor old heart has had enough surprises for one lifetime, and I’d appreciate it if my own friends and family, at least, didn’t keep contributing to the issue.”

“Noted,” Ardeth says, which is much better commentary than he could make about how he doesn’t consider them friends or something equally devastating. “I’ll try to do better in the future.”

“See that you do,” Jonathan sniffs. Satisfied that the issue has been dealt with, he straightens up and makes his way over to the table. “What are you reading anyway? Not one of Evy’s dreadfully dull things, I hope.”

“It’s nothing important,” Ardeth says, closing his book and adding it to a stack resting not far from his left elbow. “Just something to satisfy my own interests. A way to pass the time if you will.”

“I can think of far better ways to pass the time,” Jonathan says, the words leaving his mouth before he has a chance to consider how they might be interpreted. “Er, I mean ... That is - I didn’t mean it like that!”

Ardeth raises a single brow knowingly, and Jonathan’s wondering if it’s possible to combust out of sheer embarrassment when he says, “That’s unfortunate. I thought we both enjoyed ourselves last time.”

Jonathan gapes at him. “Well - well, I mean - yes, obviously. It’s just that - to be honest I didn’t expect you to want to do it again.”

Ardeth shrugs, as at ease as ever. “Only if you want to,” he says, apparently not noticing the way his words cause Jonathan’s brain to briefly misfire.

“I -“ Jonathan stutters, searching for the rights words to seal this very unexpected deal. “... have an office?”

Brilliant. Absolutely bloody spectacular, Carnahan. That’ll win the man over for sure.

Except, to his incredible shock it somehow does, and in no short order Jonathan finds himself being bent over the desk he’d so recently had such negative thoughts about, his hands gripping the edge while Ardeth moves behind him in a way that makes his entire body sing.

“Good god,” he chokes out at one point, his fingers scrabbling for purchase as a veritable lightening bolt of pleasure goes shooting up his spine. “Where in the world did you learn how to do this?”

“It’s simply a matter of reading one’s partner,” Ardeth answers, not even slightly out of breath. He readjusts his stance and does something that makes Jonathan have to bite down on his sleeve to keep from keening. “And I’ve always been a quick study.”

“Hnngh,” says Jonathan.

“That,” he adds much, much later, “made for a far more pleasant afternoon than I was anticipating. Good show, old boy. Top marks all around.”

There’s a chuckle from somewhere beside him, and then Ardeth comes into view. His hair is an absolute fright, something Jonathan will gladly accept the blame for, and there’s a smug look on his face, like an overgrown house cat who’s got all the cream and then some.

“Thank you,” he says, his own voice gravelly in a way that makes Jonathan’s gut stir futilely. “You are not so bad yourself.”

Jonathan waves a hand bashfully before returning to adjusting his trousers. Once he’s as put together as he’s going to be, he drops into the desk’s chair, sighing contentedly.

“I,” he says without thinking, “could do with some supper.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you to it,” Ardeth says, and he at least has the decency to sound regretful as he does so. “I’m supposed to rendezvous with my men this evening. I may in fact already be late.”

“Right, yes, of course.” His face heating with embarrassment, Jonathan has to suppress a sudden urge to kick himself in his own shin. He knows better than to treat this as anything more than it is. “Silly of me to offer.”

Ardeth’s in the process of trying to tame his hair into something slightly less ridiculous looking, but he still manages to give Jonathan an inscrutable look through the dark tresses. “I’ll be back at some point, I’m sure.”

Jonathan grins weakly, accepting the letdown for the kindness it is. “Right,” he says. “You’re like a bad penny that way.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Ardeth says with a laugh, “but I’m going to assume that you do.” Then he leans down for an unexpected kiss, stealing both wits and faculties on his way. “Goodnight, Jonathan.”

“Right, yeah. Night.” Jonathan says faintly, watching him go. “Goodnight indeed. Christ, I need a drink.”

*****

Rick and Evy have been home for roughly a month or so when Jonathan finds himself invited to a dinner where they plan to share some ‘important’ news. He shows up on time for once, and is surprised to find Ardeth there as well, the other man having arrived only a few moments before if the way he’s still shrugging out of his outer robe is anything to go by.

“Oh hello,” Jonathan says awkwardly. They haven’t seen each other since that day in the library, but he’d be lying if he said he’d managed to entirely put it out of his head.

Actually, he’d be lying if he said he’d managed to put it out of his head at all, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

If he’s offended or annoyed by Jonathan’s presence, Ardeth doesn’t show it. Indeed, his smile suggests he’s genuinely happy to see him, which is a not overly common occurrence outside of his immediate family.

“You’re looking well,” he says, his voice doing terrible things to Jonathan’s insides given that they’re about to sit down to dinner with his sister and brother-in-law. “I didn’t realize you were still in the city.”

Would he rather Jonathan weren’t, is that what that means? Truth be told, Jonathan’s a little lacking when it comes to proper etiquette in addressing one’s multiple-night stands. 

Deciding to brush it off, Jonathan shrugs. “Still here,” he says. “I figured I’d stick around for the foreseeable future while I sort out my next steps. I’m renting an apartment not far away for the time being.”

“For which Evy and I are both very grateful given that it gives us our own space.”

The pair of them turning as one, Ardeth and Jonathan come face to face with Rick, who’s just wandered into the foyer. “Evening, boys,” he says lightly. “Glad you could make it.”

Jonathan doesn’t bother to hide his resulting eye roll. “I can’t speak for my companion here, but I wasn’t given much choice. Evy cornered me in my favorite bar and told me I could either show up or she’d disown me.”

Rick, predictably, goes all starry eyed at this. “She really is something, isn’t she?”

“That is certainly one word for it,” Jonathan decides. “Where is she by the way? Don’t tell me you two started without us.”

“I thought about it, but Evy wouldn’t let me,” Rick shoots back. “She’s already in the dining room though, so we should join her.”

The three of them fall into step together, and Jonathan can’t resist the urge to begin prodding at whatever it is that’s caused Rick and Evy to see fit to host this meal. “So what’s the big news then?” He asks. “Please tell me you’re not dragging us all off to the city of the dead again.”

“You need to let that go.”

“I absolutely do not,” Jonathan replies. “I almost died multiple times in multiple different ways. Extremely gruesome ways might I add. I will therefore hold onto it for as long as I see fit.”

“I thought it was you and your sister’s idea to go to Hamunaptra initially?” Ardeth pipes up, and Jonathan can’t help but shoot him the most betrayed look he can muster.

“Why Ardeth Bay, you absolute traitor,” he says. “After all we’ve been through together, this is how you repay me?”

Ardeth’s eyebrows rising to meet his hairline serve to remind Jonathan of just what, exactly they’ve been through together, and it’s like someone’s doused him in cold water. He comes to a sputtering halt, completely at sea as to what he should say next.

Luckily, his sudden onset of silence coincides with their arrival in the dining room where Evy is putting the finishing touches on the table arrangement. It’s a bit fancy for a simple dinner among friends, but she had said she had ‘important’ news to share, so perhaps that warranted the extravagance.

“Jonathan, you’re here! Oh, and Ardeth, you made it. How wonderful! Come in. Sit. Sit! Everything’s all laid out and we’re ready to begin.” Her face alight in a way not unlike when she and Rick had taken each other in holy matrimony, Evy bustles forward and ushers then both to their seats, a bemused Rick trailing after her in her wake.

“Yes, well, you know me, never one to turn down a free meal,” Jonathan reminds her, oofing slightly as she shoves him none too gently into a chair. “I say, old girl, what in the world’s gotten into you?”

She flaps a hand in answer. “Rick made me promise not to say anything until after we’ve eaten, but truth be told I’m about ready to burst from the news. Therefore I’d consider it a great personal favour if we could all skip the pleasantries and tuck in straight away.”

Jonathan eyes Rick from across the table as Evy takes her own seat and immediately begins spooning food onto her plate. “Really?” He says. “You’re going to make her wait when she’s like this?”

“I didn’t say we had to wait,” Rick protests. “I just said it might be polite to do so.” Turning to Evy, he pokes her gently in the side with a fork. “If it means that much to you, go ahead and tell them now.”

“Wonderful,” Evy exclaims, and then without even pausing for breath, she adds, “We’re pregnant!”

Jonathan’s brain momentarily shorts out, but he rallies tremendously and manages to find his vocal chords within only a few seconds. “Really? That’s wonderful news, Evy! Congratulations, and may the little tyke take after our side of the family.” He adds, raising his glass in a toast.

Someone steps sharply on his foot under the table, and the angle means it can only be Ardeth. They exchange a brief flurry of unreadable expressions before the other man leans across the table to offer first Rick and then Evy his hand to shake. “Congratulations, indeed! This is wonderful news, my friends, and I’m truly flattered to be one of the first people you share it with.”

“Oh, come now, Ardeth,” Evy says. “Lord knows you’re practically family at this point. Of course we wanted to tell our two favorite people at the same time.”

Ardeth’s facial tattoos do nothing to hide the way his cheeks develop a red tint at her words, and he ducks his head in a show of obvious - if embarrassed - pleasure at her words. “You’re very kind, Evy.”

“Not kind, just honest,” she trills, and Jonathan’s beginning to wonder if she isn’t currently the victim of one of those hormonal episodes he’s heard can strike pregnant women. Evy’s always been peppy, but this is ridiculous.

“So,” he says, searching for a distraction. “Can we eat now?”

All three of them roll their eyes at him, but Evy at least nods her head in acquiescence. Jonathan therefore takes that as his due and tucks in with gusto.

Later, after more congratulations have been said and possibly a few hugs handed out, he finds himself walking out with Ardeth by his side. “Will you be in the city long?” He asks, for lack of a better conversation starter. Most of the dinner discussion had centred around Evy, so he’d had very little time to suss out whatever Ardeth’s currently up to.

“Not long,” Ardeth replies. “I only have accommodations secured for a few days, and they’re not exactly ones I want to make use of on a permanent basis. What about you? You mentioned taking on an apartment when we first arrived?”

Had he? Given all that had transpired in the hours since, that felt like a lifetime ago. Not that it mattered. He had to be staying somewhere, and it obviously wasn’t with Rick and Evy.

“Yes,” he says, rattling off the address as they go.

“You’re not far from me,” Ardeth says when he hears it. “I’ll walk with you if it’s not any trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Jonathan assures him. “I think by now you can safely assume I’m not unfond of your company.”

Ardeth’s sharp grin is visible even in the dim light thrown by the street lamps. “I might have had my suspicions,” he admits.

Jonathan’s suddenly extra grateful for the way that dim lighting hopefully hides his resulting blush. “Cad,” he huffs weakly.

“I believe that’s a term more often thrown your way than mine,” Ardeth replies sunnily. “Though I can’t imagine why.”

Jonathan makes a noise feigning offence. “And here I was about to invite you up for a nightcap,” he says forlornly. “Only to be treated in such a manner.”

“Oh really?” Ardeth says, and Jonathan, who had genuinely been joking up until this point, quickly revises his thought process. “That’s a pity. I could probably be convinced if you were to do so.”

“Is that so?” Jonathan says, feigning casual. They’re almost to his building; meaning that if Ardeth is serious now is the time veer off. “If that’s the case then that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Good,” Ardeth replies, making no move to protest when Jonathan grabs him by the sleeve and starts tugging him towards the rapidly approaching structure. “I’m sure it beats the rooming house I’m staying in for any number of reasons.”

“I should bloody well hope so,” Jonathan grumbles, fiddling one handed to fish his keys out of his jacket pocket. “Right this way.”

They stumble their way up the stairs, laughing like schoolboys at the absurdity of it all, only to reach Jonathan’s floor after what feels like an age. He’s quick to get the door open, and it’s barely shut behind him when he finds himself pinned to the back of it, being thoroughly kissed within an inch of his life.

“What?” He gasps in between kisses. “You don’t want a tour?”

Ardeth removes his mouth from the juncture of his neck and collarbone long enough to laugh at him. “Maybe later,” his says solemnly. “And I don’t know about you, but I think that nightcap can wait as well.”

“Too right,” Jonathan says, and leads him to the bedroom.

He has just enough forethought to wonder how many times he’s going to get this lucky before he hits the mattress.

*****

The strange thing is it keeps happening after that. Ardeth will go off on his own for days or even weeks at a time, citing important Medjai business that needs seeing to, but he always pops back up again and when he does it’s Jonathan he comes to see first.

After a while they develop a sort of routine. Ardeth doesn’t always know exactly when he’ll be coming or going, but he does his best to give Jonathan as accurate a prediction as possible. To be honest, he rarely gets it wrong, usually showing up within hours or at most a day of when he said he would.

It gets to the point where he’s around so much, Jonathan has a spare key made for him. He tries not to make a big thing about it, makes a comment on how it only makes sense from a practical standpoint if Ardeth’s going to keep coming around, and ignores the warm curl in his stomach when the other man takes it gravely.

“Thank you,” Ardeth says simply. “I will keep it safe.”

“Right,” Jonathan replies for lack of anything better. “See that you do.”

He gets used to Ardeth’s presence in a way he isn’t expecting, starts looking for his tiny smiles and his quiet huffs of laughter as he reads through whatever text has caught his eye this time. They settle into a comfortable pattern, one that somehow works despite their drastically different personalities.

Ardeth isn’t much of one for drinking, but he never seems to mind if Jonathan hives off to the nearest bar to wet his whistle. However, that loses much of its appeal when the other man is around. Oh, that’s not to say he stops imbibing, he just doesn’t see why he should bother leaving his very comfortable apartment with his much more pleasant company to do it. All told, these days he has more nights in than he does out.

Before he knows it, months of this have gone by, and he finds he’s starting to like the structure of it all. It’s nice to be able to come home at the end of the day and find Ardeth comfortably settled in an armchair instead of a dark empty room. In some ways it’s downright domestic.

He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

*****

“Jonathan.”

“Mhm?”

“Jonathan.”

“Yes?”

“Jonathan, I am trying to work.”

Sighing, Jonathan pulls away from where he’s been attempting to leave a trail of kisses along Ardeth’s neck, and instead shifts to lean his hip against the writing desk the other man is currently sitting at, crossing his arms over his chest for good measure.

“I can see that,” he says, affecting his best hangdog expression. “What I can’t understand is why you’re so caught up in those dusty old papers when I’m right here.”

“Because it needs to be done,” Ardeth replies, his tone bemused. “I promised your sister I would help her with this translation work while I’m here. Surely you wouldn’t want me to break my word.”

Jonathan makes a show of thinking about it and then shrugs. “Honestly, I’d much rather you take a stab at breaking something else. My bed springs, most notably.”

Ardeth sighs. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“Yes,” Jonathan acknowledges with a nod. “That’s hardly a secret.”

His words make Ardeth laugh, and he leans back in his chair, stretching hard enough that Jonathan’s pretty sure he hears something pop as a result. Judging by the look on Ardeth’s face, it wasn’t overly pleasant either.

“Back rub?” He suggests brightly, confident in his ability to spin such an activity into what he’s really gunning for. “You’ve been at this for hours now. You must be stiff.”

Ardeth shoots him a look that says he knows exactly what Jonathan’s up to, but then he surprises him by nodding. “If you’re offering, I’m not going to say no.”

“Capital!” Jonathan exclaims, scrambling around the desk and back into the spot where he’d previously been standing. “You won’t regret it. I’m told my hands are positively magical.”

“I already have first hand evidence of that,” Ardeth says baldly. “Stop fishing for compliments.”

“I would never,” Jonathan replies, and he doesn’t need to see his face to know Ardeth’s rolling his eyes. “My intentions are pure.”

“Liar,” Ardeth says, but Jonathan doesn’t think he’s imagining the note of fondness in his voice. “Why do I put up with you again?”

“Because I’m an absolutely terrific lay,” Jonathan reminds him. “And I let you stay here free of charge whenever you’re around.”

“Your sister and O’Connell would do the same.”

“The second part, most likely,” Jonathan agrees, “but not the first. Therefore, I remain the better choice.”

“Naturally.” Ardeth says, followed by, “Go lower. The worst of it is at the base of my neck.”

Obligingly, Jonathan moves his hands to the requested spot, earning himself a pleased hum from Ardeth when he begins working away at the knots there. “You’re an absolute mess, old boy. When was the last time you stepped up from this blasted desk?”

“Long before you got back,” Ardeth says, referencing a time several hours in the past. “I’m willing to admit that might have been an error on my part.”

“You don’t say,” Jonathan grunts. His attention no longer on coaxing Ardeth into bed with him, he shifts his focus to doing away with the dreadful amount of tension the man seems to be carrying in his shoulders. “You’re a disaster.”

Ardeth makes a noise he can’t parse out, tilting his head to the side when Jonathan nudges him in a specific direction. “You were right,” he murmurs after several minutes have passed. “You are very good at this.”

“Yes, well,” Jonathan huffs out a laugh without much humour in it. “My talents are few and far between when you get down to it. I need some reason for people to keep me around.”

“Jonathan.” Ardeth’s tone reminds him of Evy when she’s about to scold him for being too hard on himself, and he starts twisting like he wants to turn around in his seat.

Entirely unwilling to make eye contact lest Ardeth see something he doesn’t want him to, Jonathan places a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving. “Hold still,” he instructs. “Don’t ruin all my hard work.”

Ardeth makes an aggrieved noise, but thankfully doesn’t press the issue.

“Very good,” Jonathan confirms, digging his fingers back into the warm skin. He feels Ardeth’s muscles flex beneath him, and delights, as he always does, in the fact that he’s allowed to touch.

“How’s that?” He asks after enough time has passed that he can’t find any more knots. “Better?”

“Much,” Ardeth admits. Reaching backwards, he catches one of Jonathan’s hands as he’s pulling them away, bringing it to his lips so he can press a kiss to the knuckles. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Jonathan replies, suddenly feeling a little warm under the collar. “Hopefully it helps.”

“Mmm,” Ardeth says, then he glances hesitantly towards the manuscript spread out all over the desk. “There’s not much left to do,” he admits. “I suppose I could join you now and finish it in the morning.”

Normally Jonathan would jump at the chance, but he knows Ardeth, knows how much he hates leaving a project undone. “Sort this out first,” he says, his stomach swooping alarmingly at Ardeth’s resulting smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He thinks about it laying in bed later that night; Ardeth sated and asleep beside him. The fact of the matter is that he’d meant it when he said he wasn’t going anywhere, and that, combined with a whole host of other factors, has just lead him to a single, terrifying conclusion.

He’s falling in love.

*****

He does what he always does in times of great distress, he goes to see Evy.

Rick’s not around when he lets himself into the home, but some careful snooping tells him she’s up in her room having an afternoon lie in. Taking a moment to ascertain that she’s awake reading, as opposed to legitimately sleeping, he opens the door and slips inside.

“Good day, old mum,” he says brightly. “I was in the neighbourhood and thought I’d pop by for a visit with my favorite sister. You know, see how you were doing and all that?”

She doesn’t buy his cavalier tone for a moment. Instead, she stares at him from where she’s comfortably ensconced among at least a half a dozen pillows, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “What have you done this time, Jonathan?”

“Something terrible,” he moans, immediately dropping all aspects of his relaxed facade. “Absolutely terrible.”

Now her eyes widen in alarm. “Jonathan,” she says tersely, accompanying the words with a sharp gesture towards her swollen belly. “Please tell me we’re not about to be overrun by a horde of the undead. As you can see, I’m not really in a state for battling mummies right now.”

Jonathan makes a scoffing sound. “No, no, it’s nothing like that,” he says, starting to pace around the room. “Though I suppose in some ways it’s worse.”

“Worse?!” Evy echoes. “Good god, Jonathan. What have you done?”

“I’ve bloody well gone and fallen in love, that’s what I’ve done!” He shouts, flinging his arms in the air for good measure. 

Evy blinks at him. “What?” She says slowly. “You mean like with a person?”

“No, with a mongoose!” Jonathan snaps. “Of course with a person! What kind of silly question is that, Evelyn?”

She has the nerve to roll her eyes at him. “Jonathan, you have a long and storied history of falling in love with guns, alcohol, and valuables that don’t belong to you. To be perfectly honest, a person is a significant upgrade. Why are you so upset?”

“Why am I - ? Evelyn, look at me!” He waves a hand between the two of them, using it to furtively gesture at all of himself. “I’m a scoundrel. A drunk. A veritable lout! I can’t be going around falling in love with people. Especially not ones who deserve so much better!”

“Who told you that?” She demands. “I certainly hope it wasn’t this person you’re supposedly in love with, otherwise I swear I will give them a right thrashing.”

“Evy,” Jonathan says tiredly, most of the fight draining out of him in the face of his baby sister’s righteous indignation. “I very much doubt you can even get out of that bed without help at the moment.”

“Besides,” he adds when it looks like she’s nevertheless going to try it, “nobody said anything of the sort. It’s just that, contrary to popular belief, I do have some semblance of self-awareness.”

“Oh, Jonathan,” her expression melting into something unbearably kind, Evy pats the open space on the bed next to her. “Come here.”

Much to his chagrin, he can’t find it in him to put up a fight. He slinks over to the bed and settles down beside her, resting his head on her shoulder as he lets out a world weary sigh.

“Now then,” she says, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as if he isn’t the one who’s meant to be comforting her. “Tell me about this person. Do I know them?”

“Absolutely not,” he lies, “and you never will either. Nothing good is going to come of it since they obviously don’t feel the same way.”

“Yes, well, I hesitate to ask this, but have you actually told them how you feel?”

“Of course I haven’t,” he says, ignoring her particularly put upon sigh. “What do you take me for? A masochist?”

“In so many ways,” she replies. Then she pinches him, and says over his indignant yelp, “Whoever this person is, I hardly doubt that they can read minds. Or at least I certainly hope not, as that’s just likely to lead to all sorts of trouble. Regardless,” she adds hastily when he shoots her a look, “you need to tell them how you feel. If they’re foolish enough to reject you at that point, then you can come back here and wallow as much as you like.”

To his credit, he takes a moment to think it over, doing his best to picture Ardeth’s reaction to the news. Then he snorts. “I think I’ll just skip to the wallowing, thanks.”

*****

Unfortunately, Evy remains true to her word and refuses to let him sulk around her home for the rest of the night. He stays for supper, and then she gently but firmly shows him the door.

He runs into Rick as he’s on his way out, passing him on the front steps where the man is loaded down with a bag full of who-knows-what thrown over one broad shoulder.

“O’Connell,” he says with a nod of his head. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

“Jonathan,” Rick replies, coming to a stop as they get within speaking distance. “And sure, I guess. I didn’t know you were around tonight.”

“Bit of an unexpected stopover,” Jonathan says in return. “I found myself with a free afternoon and figured I’d pop over to see how Evy was doing. She looks fit to burst, to be honest.”

Rick rolls his eyes. “She’s eight and a half months pregnant, Jonathan. Pretty sure that’s normal at this stage. I also dare you to say that where she can hear you.”

“And make it so that I’ve survived cursed mummies, scarab beetles, and the hordes of the undead only to succumb to the wrath of my enraged little sister?” Jonathan scoffs. “I think not.”

Rick grins at that. “Glad to see you do have some sliver of self-preservation skills,” he retorts. “Even if they are minimal at best.”

“Says the man who agreed to lead my sister and I to the city of the dead when he knew full well what we were likely to find there,” Jonathan says, blithely ignoring the fact that they hadn’t exactly given him a choice. 

Rick gives him a look which suggests he hears the unspoken sentiment, but for once is kind enough to call him on it. “Right about now I’d say that worked out pretty well for me,” he says instead, hoisting the bag up higher on his shoulder. “Goodnight, Jonathan.”

“Yes, yes, same to you.”

He opts to return to his apartment on foot, rather than use any of the means of transportation available, and the sun has almost completely set by the time he makes it. Surprisingly, though, there’s a light visible in one of his windows.

Figuring that burglars and other reprobates out to do him harm are unlikely to make their presence known in such a fashion, he strolls up the stairs as unconcernedly as possible, and is only a little surprised to find Ardeth sitting in his parlour with a book in hand and a cup of tea resting by his elbow.

“Well, don’t you look comfy,” Jonathan informs him, which he feels is a much better statement than falling to his knees and begging the man to stay with him forever. “How was your day?”

“Very good, thank you,” Ardeth says, offering up a tiny smile. “And yours? I ran into one of the neighbours coming in. She mentioned that you’d gone to visit your sister.”

Probably that elderly busybody down the hall who can’t stand to keep her nose out of people’s personal lives, Jonathan thinks. Not that it mattered since that was exactly what he’d been up to after all.

“I did,” he says brightly, stepping over to the wine cart to pour himself a glass. “As I told Rick she looks ready to go at any point now, but she seems to be in good spirits, so props to her.”

“She’s a remarkable woman,” Ardeth says thoughtfully. “Strong. I’m sure she will come through this with - what is that phrase you use - flying colours?”

“That would be the one,” Jonathan acknowledges, taking an appreciative sip of his drink as he drops into the chair opposite Ardeth. Not caring much for propriety at this point, he also toes off his boots and leaves them where they fall. “What are you reading? Anything good?”

“A recommendation from O’Connell,” is the reply, which could mean anything from a storied old tome to the latest firearm’s manual. “It’s not terrible.”

“Sounds like a real page turner for sure.” Jonathan chuckles, and then, because he really is his own worst enemy when you get down to it, he adds, “Are you certain I couldn’t offer you a more pleasant way to spend the evening?”

Ardeth raises a single eyebrow in question.

“I only mean,” Jonathan says, racing to fill the silence. “Well, you’re here, and I’m here, so it seems to me that we may as well use that time being here together.” Mentally, he replays that sentence in his head, not much caring for how it comes out.

Ardeth, however, doesn’t seem to care. There’s a wry smirk slowly twisting its way across his features, and he closes the book in his hands with a pointed snap. “What did you have in mind?”

Setting his glass down on the same table that now contains Ardeth’s book, Jonathan gets to his feet just long enough to slide over and plant himself in the other man’s lap. “What do you think?”

A low laugh reverberates up out of Ardeth’s chest, and his hands come to rest on Jonathan’s hips. “I do believe I could hazard a few guesses,” he says, squeezing gently.

Once again telling himself that something is better than nothing, Jonathan takes that as his cue to lean down and kiss him.

*****

Jonathan wakes the next morning with a warm body wrapped around him and a beam of light shining directly in his eyes. “Blast those bloody curtains,” he groans, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the rays. “Who puts a break right in the middle of the things?”

He feels it as much as he hears Ardeth chuckle. “I’m reasonably certain the design is intentional,” he says, his voice rough with sleep.

“Certainly annoying, you mean,” Jonathan grumbles. “Do me a favour and go fix it, would you?”

He regrets the words when they cause Ardeth to get up, leaving an empty spot behind him in his wake. “No, wait. I didn’t mean it. It’s too early to be up yet.”

“It’s well into the morning,” Ardeth shoots back, “and comfortable though the bed may be, I’m afraid I have business that needs attending to.”

That makes Jonathan pay attention. Moving the pillow away from his face, he peers over at Ardeth, who’s still visible even in the now darkened room. “What business?” He demands. “What are you talking about?”

“Hopefully nothing,” Ardeth replies, which does a grand total of nothing to calm Jonathan’s nerves. “Just some rumours that need addressing.”

Jonathan sits up fully. “Ardeth Bay,” he says firmly, planting his hands on his hips for emphasis. “You tell me what’s going on this minute, or so help me god, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

He’s half-expecting the other man to brush him off, but instead he sighs tiredly and steps back over to the bed, sitting down by Jonathan’s feet. “It really is likely nothing,” he says hesitantly.

Jonathan prods him in the hip with the toes of one foot, not surprised at all when Ardeth grabs him by the ankle to hold him off. “Likely nothing isn’t the same as definitely nothing,” he says primly. “What have you been hiding from me?”

“Not just you,” Ardeth admits quietly. “I haven’t told O’Connell or Evelyn yet either.”

“Bully for them,” Jonathan snaps. “They’re not here, and I am. Therefore, start with me.”

Ardeth groans. “There have been rumours of cultists springing up. Men and women who worship the creature. I don’t even know if they truly exist, let alone what they might be after, but the situation needs to be looked into by someone.”

“And that someone has to be you?” Jonathan demands, a sharp spike of fear landing somewhere within his belly. “Who made that rule?”

Ardeth looks at him. “It is, quite literally, my job. You know this.”

“Yes, well,” Jonathan grumbles. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. How long have you known about this?”

“Not long,” Ardeth assures him. “A messenger arrived yesterday afternoon. I was going to tell you when you got home, but ...”

“Yes, yes, I see how it is. Blame the victim,” Jonathan huffs. “When are you leaving, and how long will you be gone?”

“Today,” Ardeth says. “As for the other question, I don’t know. Hopefully not long. I’d like to be back before the baby is born.”

“That could be any day now,” Jonathan points out. “There’s no way of knowing.”

“I know,” Ardeth says. “I’m afraid it’s a risk I’m going to have to take.”

Jonathan sighs, tugging idly at a few threads that have come loose from the linens. “You’ll be careful, yes?” Never mind his newly realized feelings, he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to the other man even if he weren’t wildly gone on him.

“As careful as I can be,” Ardeth promises. Then he moves so that he’s no longer at the foot of the bed, but is rather sliding up it so he can straddle Jonathan’s waist. “I’m the meantime, I do have a few hours before I’m set to depart.”

Jonathan lets out a little ‘oof’ as his back hits the mattress. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, staring up at the other man from his new vantage point.

“Yes,” Ardeth admits without shame. “Is it working?”

Jonathan considers him for all of a moment and then waves a hand regally. “You may proceed.”

*****

Ardeth heads out later that day, leaving Jonathan feeling bereft in his wake. He decides to go visit Evy to try and ward off some of the jitters he can’t quite do away with, but instead all he finds is Rick planted in their sitting room with a truly alarming number of guns spread about the place.

“She’s gone for a last meeting with the person who’s going to be covering her job at the museum,” he says when Jonathan inquires after his sister’s whereabouts. “She wanted to make sure there weren’t any surprises after the baby comes.”

“Right,” Jonathan says faintly. He eyes the rows of guns and ammunition warily. “Are you expecting it to not go well?”

Rick makes an exasperated face. “This is all precautionary,” he says, gesturing at enough firearms to equip a small army. “Ardeth stopped by on his way out of town.”

Ah, yes, in hindsight Jonathan suspects he should have known. Very few things spook Rick quite like Imhotep, and of course Ardeth would have wanted to make sure everyone who needs to be is in the loop.

“He says it’s probably nothing,” he offers weakly, which just makes Rick wrinkle his nose.

“I’ve heard that before,” he says. “I’m not taking any chances now.”

“Fair enough,” Jonathan says. “How did Evy take the news?”

Rick pauses in the middle of checking the trigger on a gleaming pistol. “Why do you think she’s off tying up loose ends?” He asks.

“Apparently for the same reason you’re getting ready to storm the Bastille,” Jonathan surmises. He twiddles his thumbs idly for a few seconds, but eventually has to ask, “Do you think we should be worried about Ardeth?”

Rick sets down his current pistol and swaps it out for another one without breaking stride. “I think Ardeth can handle himself the best out of all of us, and he’s got an entire army at his back. He’ll be fine.”

“Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right.” 

As if he can sense something off in his voice, Rick looks up and squints at him with a look akin to suspicion in his gaze. He eyes Jonathan for several long moments before grunting and jerking his head towards an open box resting on a shelf. 

“I haven’t sorted through those ones yet. If you have to mope around here, you might as well make yourself useful while you do it.”

Since he hasn’t got anything better to do, Jonathan does as he’s told.

*****

Alexander Carnahan O’Connell is born on a slightly balmy evening that seems far too lacklustre to mark such a monumental occasion. Jonathan is the first person to hold the precious bundle of joy after his beaming parents, and he very nearly weeps as a result of the honour.

Alright, perhaps he does actually cry a little, but the room’s extremely dusty and it’s not as if he has a hand free to swipe at his eyes now, is it?

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Evy murmurs from the bed, smiling tiredly when Jonathan shifts to look at her. “He‘s spitting image of his father.”

Jonathan winks at her over the baby’s head. “Now, Evelyn, I recognize you’ve been through a great ordeal tonight, but it’s important to me that you know you’ve just uttered two sentences which are polar opposites to one and other.”

“Ugh, Jonathan, really -“ Evy starts, but whatever well-deserved diatribe she’s about to launch at him is interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. “Now, who could that be?”

The question is answered when Rick strides over to open said door and reveals Ardeth standing on the other side. “O’Connell,” he says with a nod. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“That they are,” Rick agrees, ushering the other man inside after receiving a confirming nod from Evy. “Come meet the latest addition to the family.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Ardeth replies, shuffling forward until he’s able to peer down at the blanket-wrapped bundle in Jonathan’s arms. “He’s a very handsome child, indeed, my friends.”

“It’s the Carnahan in him,” Jonathan informs him, earning a chuckle from Ardeth and a grunt from Rick by turns. “It looks like you made it back right on time.”

“As was my goal,” Ardeth says. “And I’ve brought a present as well.”

Both Rick and Evy exclaim that that wasn’t necessary, yet their protests fall on deaf ears. Ardeth produces an intricately crafted bracelet from the depths of his robes, which he presents to Evy with a comment about how gifts at the time of birth are a tradition among his people.

Jonathan has no idea if that’s true or simply a load of poppycock designed to convince his sister and brother-in-law to acquiesce to the gift without much fuss, but either way Evy takes is gratefully. 

“It’s lovely,” she says, turning it over in her hands for a moment, before placing it carefully on the small end table next to her. “Thank you, Ardeth.”

Ardeth inclines his head, but before anyone else can say something, a low piping cry rings out as Alex begins to fuss.

“And that’s my cue to leave, I think,” Jonathan says, climbing quickly yet carefully out of his seat. “Whatever he’s after, Evy, I’m sure it’s best provided by you and not me.”

“More than likely,” Evy agrees, holding out her arms so Jonathan can hand over her son. “We’ll see you again soon, though, won’t we?”

“As if you could keep me away,” Jonathan says, while Rick mutters something no doubt damning under his breath. “I’ll be back tomorrow, I imagine. In the meantime, you lot have a good night and enjoy each other’s company.”

Evy sends him off with a distracted wave of her hand, her attention having already shifted to Alex, and he exits the room with Ardeth falling into step beside him.

“You’re not sticking around a little longer?” He asks.

“Not here, no,” Ardeth replies. “Like you I feel it’s only appropriate to give them some time to themselves. I’ll be staying in the city for the next little while, though. I have matters that need seeing to.”

Suddenly hit with a wave of longing that he’s going to entirely blame on the emotional nature of the day’s events, Jonathan turns to him. “And you’ll be staying with me while you’re here, right?”

Technically it’s a question, but not one where Jonathan’s willing to accept anything other than an affirmative answer. This may be all he ever gets to have with Ardeth, but by god if he isn’t going to hold onto it with both fists while he can.

Lucky for him, Ardeth doesn’t seem much interested in protesting. “Unless it would be an imposition,” he says, and it’s all Jonathan can do not to grab him and shake him in the middle of the very public street on which they now stand.

“No,” he says, proud of the way his voice doesn’t crack. “Of course it wouldn’t.”

“Then lead the way,” Ardeth says, gesturing Jonathan on ahead of him with a sweeping hand.

“As if you don’t know that by now,” Jonathan mumbles.

Ardeth huffs out a quiet laugh in answer, but doesn’t say anything further. In fact, the longer they’re walking, the more it seems like he’s struggling to do anything in addition to putting one foot in front of the other. If Jonathan didn’t know any better, he’d think the man was injured.

“I say, old boy,” he murmurs, deciding he’d better check. “Are you feeling alright? You’re not looking quite yourself.”

Ardeth makes a noncommittal noise that turns into a sigh of relief when Jonathan’s apartment building comes into sight. “I’m fine,” he says. “Just tired. It was a longer trip than I was expecting.”

Opting not to press, Jonathan lets them into the building without any fuss, and leads the way up the stairs to his suite. Once inside, he holds out a hand to take the travel pack Ardeth has slung over one shoulder.

“Should’ve offered to take this for you when we left Rick and Evy’s,” he says, feeling ashamed. “Why don’t you go freshen up and I’ll see you in a bit, hmm?”

“I’m afraid I’m not fit to do anything but sleep at this point,” Ardeth says apologetically. “If you were planning to welcome me back in the usual way, I suspect it will have to wait until tomorrow.”

Jonathan freezes as the implication of his words sink in. They’ve never shared a bed before, at least not just to sleep. That had always come after other, much more strenuous activities had taken place. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to make of this break in the pattern.

On the other hand, Ardeth looks dead on his feet, and Jonathan is nothing if not an opportunist. It may be coming about strictly as a result of unforeseen circumstances, but he’s not about to pass up spending time with the other man in whatever format he can get him.

Adjusting his grip on Ardeth’s bag, he nods towards the bedroom. “You know where everything is. Go get yourself settled, and I’ll be in to join you in a moment.”

Ardeth mumbles something Jonathan doesn’t quite catch, which is followed by a tired nod. His hand comes up to catch Jonathan briefly by the shoulder, and at the same time he leans in to brush a quick kiss over his cheek.

“Don’t be long,” he says simply, and then he’s gone; the only sound left in the room that of the bedroom door sliding slowly shut behind him.

Well, that and the frantic beating of Jonathan’s heart, that is. Surprised that Ardeth hadn’t been able to hear it, he stumbles, weak-kneed over to the armchair he’s now come to think of as ‘his’ and sags into it with Ardeth’s bag still clutched to his chest.

“He’s just tired, that’s all it is.” He mutters to himself. “Doesn’t know what he’s doing or saying. Don’t read too much into this, Carnahan. Do not do it. You’ll only wind up regretting it in the end.”

“Right then,” he says, once enough time has passed that his breathing is at least mostly under control. “There’s a beautiful man in that bed who should not be kept waiting. Get it together, Jon.”

Nodding decisively, he places the pack on the floor by his feet and forces himself to stand. For a brief moment he considers taking a fortifying nip from a nearby bottle of wine, but in the end decides there’s no point since he’s on his way to bed anyway.

Ardeth’s already asleep when Jonathan cautiously steps into the room. He’s left one of the two bedside lamps burning low on the table beside him, and it casts a glow over his pliant form, making it easy for Jonathan to see exactly what he’s about to lie down next to.

Closing his eyes, Jonathan takes a fortifying breath and draws all the way into the room, closing the door carefully behind him. He strips perfunctorily, not wanting to disturb his companion by bustling about the room too much, and then slips under the covers with as little fanfare as possible.

Only once he’s there, however, does he remember the lamp. He’ll never be able to fall asleep with it still lit; nor does he want to take the chance of it bothering Ardeth either. All told, it simply has to go.

Groaning inwardly, he props himself up on one elbow, and then carefully leans over Ardeth until he can reach the little lever that will allow him to turn down the wick. He breathes a sigh of relief as the room descends into darkness, pleased that he’d been successful in his mission.

He shifts backwards, fully intending to return to his previous position, but finds himself stoping before he entirely manages it. There’s a tiny voice in the back of his head reminding him that Ardeth is right there, but also that he’s asleep, so why not indulge himself just a smidge?

“I mean,” he murmurs so quietly that he barely even hears himself, “what would it hurt, really?” Then, his mind made up, he shifts to brush a stray curl away from Ardeth’s forehead, following it with a careful kiss to his temple.

“Sleep well, darling.”

*****

In all the excitement of Alex being born and Ardeth returning, it’s not until the following morning that Jonathan remembers why the other man had even left in the first place. He says as much to Ardeth over breakfast, earning himself a tired laugh in response.

“I’m surprised it took you this long,” he says. “And yes, I do have news. It can wait until we visit Rick and Evy though.”

Jonathan eyes him suspiciously. “So I don’t have to worry about old Imhotep bursting in over the poached eggs, then?”

“That would be extremely unlikely.”

“But not impossible is what I’m hearing you say,” Jonathan grumbles, shovelling a forkful of food into his mouth. “Blasted mummies have no respect whatsoever.”

“Just eat, Jonathan.”

With breakfast done and the dishes cleared away, they get dressed and head out of the apartment. Ardeth steadfastly refuses to give in to Jonathan’s attempts to pester him for answers, and before they know it they’ve reached their destination.

Rick opens the door like he’d been expecting them, ushering them into the same room he’d previously turned into a makeshift armoury a few weeks back. “I figured you’d be around to give us a lowdown at some point,” he says simply. “What’s the deal?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Evy?” Jonathan asks.

“You mean the woman who gave birth less than twenty four hours ago and is upstairs sleeping?” Rick rolls his eyes. “I want to let her rest as long as possible. Start talking Ardeth.”

Ardeth shrugs. “The news is less than ideal, but still nowhere near as grave as could be. There are worshippers of the creature who have been banding together, but they have had no success in reviving him and that doesn’t even appear to be their main goal.”

“Then what the blazes do they want?” Jonathan demands.

“They want to join him, to become like him.” Ardeth replies. “They think they can inherit his power and wield it for themselves.”

“That’s nuts,” Rick says succinctly. “That magic corrupted Imhotep beyond repair and still wasn’t enough to save him in the end.”
 
Ardeth nods. “Yes, it’s unlikely they will achieve anything in the end, but they nevertheless plan to ransack the museum for anything relating to the creature in the hopes that this will help them further their plans.”

“Wonderful,” Jonathan. “Do we know when this is happening? At least Evy won’t be there to get in the middle of everything for once.”

Rick snorts. “Don’t be so quick to discount your sister’s ability to land smack dab in the centre of a mess. Depending on when the attack comes, she’s going to want to help.”

“The attack is set to take place tonight,” Ardeth says. “Several of my men have returned with me to help deal with it, however. There should be no need for you to trouble yourselves.”

“Yeah, sorry, if it’s threatening my family then I’m in whether you like it or not,” Rick informs him.

“Me too,” says Jonathan before he can think better of it. “I survived everything else Imhotep threw at me. I’m not about to break that record now.”

Ardeth makes a face he can’t parse out at this announcement, but eventually ducks his head with a sigh. “Very well,” he says. “You two can come with me then, but what about Evy?”

“Oh, we have to tell her,” Jonathan says, not missing the disgruntled look on Rick’s face as he does so. “She’ll kill us herself if we don’t.”

“Probably,” Rick admits, “but she just had a baby. She’s in no shape to be fighting mummys or their followers.”

“So tell her that,” Jonathan says. “The woman’s not a lunatic, O’Connell. She’s not about to bring Alex to his first gunfight while he’s still in diapers. She’ll listen to reason.”

“Then you tell her,” Rick says mulishly.

“Hah,” Jonathan replies. “Hah bloody hah.”

*****

Evy is predictably not happy with the situation, but makes no attempt to stop them from going.

“Though I’ll jolly well have something to say about it if some or all of you fail to make it back,” she warns, glaring at the three of them from overtop of Alex’s little bonnet-clad head. “And with all your bits in the correct locations if you please.”

“We’ll do our best,” Rick promises, kissing first her and then Alex as they leave.

Her answering snort follows them out into the hallway.

“You realize she meant every word of that, don’t you?” Jonathan asks.

“It had occurred to me, yeah,” Rick replies. “We should maybe do our best not to die tonight.”

“Agreed,” Jonathan says. “As it happens, that’s usually my main goal anyway. So, what’s the plan?”

They discuss it in the car ride over to the museum, having appropriated the machine for the night’s events. Essentially, Ardeth’s men will surround the building once the cultists are inside, boxing them in. Then they’ll pick them off one by one, blocking the exits to ensure that none get away. 

Ardeth’s not willing to leave anything to chance, however, which is why Rick and Jonathan - who know their way around the building better than anyone except maybe Evy - are going in early to remove any items they don’t want the cultists to get their hands on.

It’s a plan that requires splitting up, so Jonathan doesn’t like it.

He starts protesting as soon as the subject is broached, and is still going when the car comes to a stop. “I mean, who gives a damn if they get their hands on anything? The idea is that you’re going to swoop in and nab them straightaway anyway, so why not all stay together and go after them as one?”

“Because we cant guarantee some won’t evade our grasp,” Ardeth says patiently, holding the door open as Jonathan climbs out after him. 

“Furthermore,” he continues on, seamlessly preventing Jonathan from getting a word in edgewise, “you yourself know how quickly ancient artifacts can become dangerous in the wrong hands. What if one of these people needs only a moment to work the kind of magic that would wreak havoc everywhere and we gave that to them?”

Jonathan glares at him, not at all impressed at being out maneuvered this way. “You know I hate it when you use logic on me.”

“I do,” Ardeth says with a slight incline of his head. “But I also know you’re willing to listen to it when warranted.”

Rick makes a patently rude scoffing sound from somewhere behind them.

Jonathan ignores him, not willing to drop this particular battle quite yet. 

“It’s unnecessarily risky,” he says, almost but not quite stamping his foot for added measure. “There’s no reason for you to go taring off alone without us.”

“Uh, he’s going to have his entire crew at his back,” Rick points out, eyebrows raised. “If anyone’s on their own, it’s us.”

Jonathan ignores him, his gaze locked on Ardeth while his heart twists alarmingly in his chest. “I want to know where you are,” he says, far too earnestly, and no doubt giving away far too much.

Ardeth gives him an exasperated look in return. “My love, I have every confidence in your ability to handle this, but it will only work if I do my part. I’ll see you soon,” he adds, leaning in for a quick kiss before disappearing and leaving a gaping Jonathan in his wake.

“Excuse me?” He shrieks belatedly. “Your what?!”

Ardeth’s long gone, however, so he turns to glare at Rick as the sole remaining person in the vicinity. “Did you hear what he just said?”

“Yep,” says Rick, sounding pained.  “Saw what he did too.”

“That’s nothing,” Jonathan grumbles, his mind racing a mile a minute. “That’s normal. He does it all the time. It’s the first part that’s gone and thrown a wrench in the works. The absolute nerve of the man!”

Rick blinks at him. “So is Ardeth not the person you showed up whining to Evy about a few weeks ago then?”

“She told you?” Jonathan groans. “Well then the absolute nerve of her too! That was supposed to be held in the strictest of confidences.”

“Right,” Rick says dryly. “Look, Jonathan. I don’t mean to take away from whatever crisis you’re having here, but could it possibly wait until after our lives aren’t in mortal peril anymore?”

“What? Oh, right.” Jonathan shrugs. He thinks it over for a moment. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Good,” Rick says, and claps him on the shoulder. “Now get your ass moving.”

*****

In the end the plan works perfectly, and the whole situation turns out to be a bit of a non-event. The baddies are thwarted in the middle of their terrible plan, stragglers are rounded up and handed over to the proper authorities, and their side walks away with nary a scratch to show for it. It’s almost a letdown.

“Really?” Asks an exasperated Rick when Jonathan voices that thought aloud. “Honestly, with the way you’re constantly tempting fate it amazes me how you’ve lived this long.”

“Mostly I get by on sheer luck,” Jonathan admits, only to stop short when Ardeth abruptly wanders into view. “Oh my.”

“What?” Rick says, following Jonathan’s line of sight. “He looks okay to me.”

“That wasn’t - oh never mind,” Jonathan grouses. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Rick claps him on the back with a heavy hand. “I’d say try me, but I’m afraid you’d take me up on the offer. Go talk to him. You clearly need to.” Then - because he’s still a baseless lout with no sense of common decency - he uses that same hand to shove Jonathan forward.

“Bastard,” Jonathan mutters under his breath. “See if I agree to help the next time you come crawling over with some problem you can’t solve on your own. Oh hello,” he adds brightly when he reaches Ardeth. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Ardeth gives him a relieved smile. “You’re alright.”

“Uh, yes. Yes, I am.” Jonathan says eloquently. He lets his gaze sweep over Ardeth’s body, pleased when he doesn’t find any obvious injuries. “You appear to be the same.”

“Yes,” Ardeth confirms. “I’m no worse for wear.”

“Good,” Jonathan says lamely. And then. “Home?”

“Home.”

The word rattles around in Jonathan’s head as they make their way to the apartment. He’d said it without thinking, and Ardeth had answered in much the same way, almost as if it were a foregone conclusion.

He’s still thinking about it when they reach the building and climb the familiar set of stairs up to the unit. And as they let themselves inside where Ardeth immediately toes off his boots and lines them up by the door like always. And as he hangs his outer robe on the hook that’s long since come to be his.

Jonathan watches as Ardeth begins puttering about the place, tidying it because he’s not a fan of mess. He considers the shelves that now hold an accumulated combination of both their books, and the teacup that is only ever used by Ardeth. Then it dawns on him.

“You live here!”

Ardeth pauses where he’s busy straightening up the pillows on the sofa. “Yes?” He says after a long moment, one eyebrow raised in confusion. “Had that somehow escaped your notice?”

Yes, which is patently ridiculous now that Jonathan thinks about it. Ardeth never stays anywhere but with him when he’s in town, and he’s in town more than he’s not. He only leaves when he has Medjai business that needs seeing to, and he always, without fail, comes back once that’s done. It’s something he’s been doing for months now.

“Don’t laugh,” he says sternly. “Ardeth Bay, I forbid you to laugh at me right now. I’m feeling very delicate.”

Now both Ardeth’s eyebrows go up, this time in alarm. “I thought you said you weren’t hurt?”

“I’m not. I’m not,” Jonathan says hurriedly. “Actually I’m - oh, just come here, would you?”

At Jonathan’s request, Ardeth steps over and allows himself to be tugged into an embrace, making no move to protest when Jonathan curls his arms around his neck and buries his face in one broad shoulder. “I’m just very glad that you do, is all.”

Ardeth lets out a low chuckle that Jonathan feels as much as he hears. “You didn’t realize, did you?” He murmurs, thankfully sounding bemused as opposed to upset.

He’s not just talking about their living arrangements, Jonathan can tell. “No,” he admits after a moments pause. “And I’ve been pining dreadfully for ages now. It turns out I’m desperately gone on you.”

The words make Ardeth laugh outright. “Well, we I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” he says. “Though I promise I already knew.”

Jonathan doesn’t know whether to be pleased or embarrassed by that. He suspect he winds up landing somewhere in the middle. Then another thought occurs to him which has him wrinkling his nose and sighing. “Rick and Evy are going to laugh at me.” He says forlornly.

“Rick and Evy are always laughing at you,” Ardeth points out, albeit not unkindly. “I’d have thought you’d be used to it by now.”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement. “I suppose it’s worth it if it means I get to have you,” he decides, and for once he knows that Ardeth hears everything he doesn’t say.

“Likewise, my dear,” Ardeth says. “Likewise.”