CeeCee
New Yorker
Disclaimer: Don't know them, don't own them, wouldn't be here if I did. Not making any money off this.
Rating: Eh. PG 13 for potty mouthed Boys.
A/N: This story started life as a five minute writing excerise one day when I was bored out of my mind. To that effect I'd like to thank SG and Drea for letting me shamelessly steal their bit. And to the PLEBA girls for being themselves and sharing the lurv. This story has not been betaed or spell checked so if it bugs ya, please don't read it. I'm not in a postion to run a spell checker without crashing my comp. And finally, this is a U2 not as U2 story, so there won't be any drooms, guitars, basses, or microphones and I'm using their real names. So if you're looking for Rock Star U2, I'm sorry, you have the wrong fic. Please hit your back button and try your click again. Thank you.
Now, on with the fic!
***********
"Stop, here! This is it, I'm sure of it!" David pulls his camel to a stop.
Paul looks over his shoulder at David, then looks over at Adam and Lawrence. Adam leans back, adjusting the cloth covering his face. He pulls the wrap away from his mouth and nose. "Looks like sand, sand, and more sand."
David nudges his camel down, and Adam raises his hand to stop the workers behind them. He brushes sand off of his glasses with the sleeve of his robe. Lawrence lowers their camel and Adam slides off into the sand. He adjusts the long robes casually, putting his glasses back on. Lawrence climbs down to stand beside him. Adam hands him two bundles of wooden stakes. Lawrence takes them.
"You look like an idiot."
"You look hot." Adam smugly replies, taking the large balls of twine and heading toward David, who's drawing lined in the sand with Paul.
"- And if we dig inside this primiter, we should find the entrance."
"And when the sand starts to fall into the pit?"
"That's what the large wooden planks are for." Adam says, handing Paul one of the balls of twine. "Help me cordone off the area."
Paul begins to tie the twine around the stakes. "What if there's a curse."
"There aren't any real curses."
"You don't know that, Lar. There might be a cursed cat statue guarding the tomb." Adam doesn't need to look up to know the look on Lawrence's face. Of course, Paul is always quick to join in.
"And it'll come to life, and have an immediate attraction to Lawrence."
"Start following him around, rubbing against his legs. Climb his trouser legs to sit on his shoulder... lick his ears."
"And the part of the glyphs he needs to break the curse will be lost in time."
"That's not funny. If we find a cursed mummy, I'm sending her after the pair of you first."
Adam and Paul begin to laugh.
"Yeah, laugh it up, dress boy!"
"Man should not be forced to wear trousers when it's hot."
"Tell it to the dunes." Lawrence gives the laughing pair the bird. Paul and Adam just sit in the sand and laugh.
"All right. Enough. Such children." David rolls his eyes. "Adam, get going on the digging."
As he walks away, he can hear Adam and Paul still making cursed cat jokes that send them into gales of laughter again. He walks through the makeshift tent that's being put up and finds Lawrence in the shaded water lean to. Lawrence is hunkered down in a chair, silently re-reading translations from his notebook. David pours them both a glass of water. He walks over and offers the linguist a glass. "You know, dehydration is caused not only by loss of water, but also loss of sodium, potassim, calcium bicarbonate, phosphate and electrolytes."
Lawrence looks at him.
"I don't want to have to find embalming ingredients on short notice. Quick embalming equals shoddy embalming."
His lips quirk in response, a hint of amusement. He takes a sip from his glass. "Do you think she's still here?"
"Not only is she here, she's waiting for us."
"Three thousand years. I hope you're right."
"She's waited for us for this long. She'll hold a few hours."
******
A young servent girl hurries through the palace, her reed shoes making soft slapping sounds on the stone floors. Her khol lined eyes flicker from side to side as she moves, as if afraid she will be interrupted from her task. She approaches the large entrance way to the main audince chamer, where her queen sits. She gives a quick cursty to the guards as she passes.
She slows as she approaches the thrones where the Pahroh and his wife sit. She comes to a stop, carefully kneeling, with her hands clasped in front of her. She can hear them speaking quietly to each other as she waits for aknowledgement. Finally the Pharoh and his queen finish their conversation. He noticed the young serving girl and bids her to rise. She gets to her feet, giving a short bow as she does so.
"My Lord. My Queen." She begins respectfully. "A man has been caught attempting to steal, however he claims he is innocent and begs for a chance to plead his case before you. I've been sent to ask permission."
The Queen does not even stop to consider the problem. Relying on the support of her husband, she makes a quick unilateral decision. "Have him brought. Quickly, child." The girl bows once more and hurries away.
Once she is out of sight, he turns to look at his wife. "Why agree to see this theif, my love? Why dirty you're lovely hands with this work?"
She looks at him and smiles. "It is the right thing. I feel it."
"Then we will trust the Gods, and your instincts." he says, tenderly kissing her fingers.
Within minutes two soldiers arrive, dragging a man behind them. The soldiers drop him unceremoniously to the floor in front of the Pharoh and his Queen.
"This is the man, My Lord." One of the soldiers says.
The man is question gets to his knees. Slowly he raises his head and looks at the Pharoh and the Queen. His eyes are slightly hoded, but when the dark brown eyes meet those of the Queen, she almost shivers. In her ear she hears a soft voice. Release him.
She looks at her husband, who is staring at the man on the floorl Release him. He is innocent. Make him one of your servents.
"Let him go." She orders, sure the voice in question is that of the Mother Goddess. "And bring me Irisi. Tell her to come to me in my privete chambers."
The soldiers are a bit surprised, but bow and leave to do ehr bidding.
"Tye?"
"Please, trust me." She says, rising to her feet. She moves to the man, helping him up and is surprised to see that he is taller than her own king. "Come with me. Keep up." She orders, hurrying to her personal rooms as maid servents scurry ahead.
Rating: Eh. PG 13 for potty mouthed Boys.
A/N: This story started life as a five minute writing excerise one day when I was bored out of my mind. To that effect I'd like to thank SG and Drea for letting me shamelessly steal their bit. And to the PLEBA girls for being themselves and sharing the lurv. This story has not been betaed or spell checked so if it bugs ya, please don't read it. I'm not in a postion to run a spell checker without crashing my comp. And finally, this is a U2 not as U2 story, so there won't be any drooms, guitars, basses, or microphones and I'm using their real names. So if you're looking for Rock Star U2, I'm sorry, you have the wrong fic. Please hit your back button and try your click again. Thank you.
Now, on with the fic!
***********
"Stop, here! This is it, I'm sure of it!" David pulls his camel to a stop.
Paul looks over his shoulder at David, then looks over at Adam and Lawrence. Adam leans back, adjusting the cloth covering his face. He pulls the wrap away from his mouth and nose. "Looks like sand, sand, and more sand."
David nudges his camel down, and Adam raises his hand to stop the workers behind them. He brushes sand off of his glasses with the sleeve of his robe. Lawrence lowers their camel and Adam slides off into the sand. He adjusts the long robes casually, putting his glasses back on. Lawrence climbs down to stand beside him. Adam hands him two bundles of wooden stakes. Lawrence takes them.
"You look like an idiot."
"You look hot." Adam smugly replies, taking the large balls of twine and heading toward David, who's drawing lined in the sand with Paul.
"- And if we dig inside this primiter, we should find the entrance."
"And when the sand starts to fall into the pit?"
"That's what the large wooden planks are for." Adam says, handing Paul one of the balls of twine. "Help me cordone off the area."
Paul begins to tie the twine around the stakes. "What if there's a curse."
"There aren't any real curses."
"You don't know that, Lar. There might be a cursed cat statue guarding the tomb." Adam doesn't need to look up to know the look on Lawrence's face. Of course, Paul is always quick to join in.
"And it'll come to life, and have an immediate attraction to Lawrence."
"Start following him around, rubbing against his legs. Climb his trouser legs to sit on his shoulder... lick his ears."
"And the part of the glyphs he needs to break the curse will be lost in time."
"That's not funny. If we find a cursed mummy, I'm sending her after the pair of you first."
Adam and Paul begin to laugh.
"Yeah, laugh it up, dress boy!"
"Man should not be forced to wear trousers when it's hot."
"Tell it to the dunes." Lawrence gives the laughing pair the bird. Paul and Adam just sit in the sand and laugh.
"All right. Enough. Such children." David rolls his eyes. "Adam, get going on the digging."
As he walks away, he can hear Adam and Paul still making cursed cat jokes that send them into gales of laughter again. He walks through the makeshift tent that's being put up and finds Lawrence in the shaded water lean to. Lawrence is hunkered down in a chair, silently re-reading translations from his notebook. David pours them both a glass of water. He walks over and offers the linguist a glass. "You know, dehydration is caused not only by loss of water, but also loss of sodium, potassim, calcium bicarbonate, phosphate and electrolytes."
Lawrence looks at him.
"I don't want to have to find embalming ingredients on short notice. Quick embalming equals shoddy embalming."
His lips quirk in response, a hint of amusement. He takes a sip from his glass. "Do you think she's still here?"
"Not only is she here, she's waiting for us."
"Three thousand years. I hope you're right."
"She's waited for us for this long. She'll hold a few hours."
******
A young servent girl hurries through the palace, her reed shoes making soft slapping sounds on the stone floors. Her khol lined eyes flicker from side to side as she moves, as if afraid she will be interrupted from her task. She approaches the large entrance way to the main audince chamer, where her queen sits. She gives a quick cursty to the guards as she passes.
She slows as she approaches the thrones where the Pahroh and his wife sit. She comes to a stop, carefully kneeling, with her hands clasped in front of her. She can hear them speaking quietly to each other as she waits for aknowledgement. Finally the Pharoh and his queen finish their conversation. He noticed the young serving girl and bids her to rise. She gets to her feet, giving a short bow as she does so.
"My Lord. My Queen." She begins respectfully. "A man has been caught attempting to steal, however he claims he is innocent and begs for a chance to plead his case before you. I've been sent to ask permission."
The Queen does not even stop to consider the problem. Relying on the support of her husband, she makes a quick unilateral decision. "Have him brought. Quickly, child." The girl bows once more and hurries away.
Once she is out of sight, he turns to look at his wife. "Why agree to see this theif, my love? Why dirty you're lovely hands with this work?"
She looks at him and smiles. "It is the right thing. I feel it."
"Then we will trust the Gods, and your instincts." he says, tenderly kissing her fingers.
Within minutes two soldiers arrive, dragging a man behind them. The soldiers drop him unceremoniously to the floor in front of the Pharoh and his Queen.
"This is the man, My Lord." One of the soldiers says.
The man is question gets to his knees. Slowly he raises his head and looks at the Pharoh and the Queen. His eyes are slightly hoded, but when the dark brown eyes meet those of the Queen, she almost shivers. In her ear she hears a soft voice. Release him.
She looks at her husband, who is staring at the man on the floorl Release him. He is innocent. Make him one of your servents.
"Let him go." She orders, sure the voice in question is that of the Mother Goddess. "And bring me Irisi. Tell her to come to me in my privete chambers."
The soldiers are a bit surprised, but bow and leave to do ehr bidding.
"Tye?"
"Please, trust me." She says, rising to her feet. She moves to the man, helping him up and is surprised to see that he is taller than her own king. "Come with me. Keep up." She orders, hurrying to her personal rooms as maid servents scurry ahead.
I'm looking forward to more.
Cursed cat statue Eh?
