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Evelyn Carnahan was overjoyed. Part of her still couldn’t quite believed she was actually here. The mythical city of Hamunaptra! It was simply wonderful! The ancient ruins, while weathered by centuries of exposure to the sun and sand, still seemed to whisper promises of untold knowledge. If only she could reach out and answer the call.
Thus, here she was. Fiddling carefully with a large, silver mirror near the statue of Anubis. If she could just get the angle right, it would be invaluable in exploring the cavern below their feet. Evelyn quickly looked up, checking the position of another mirror close by. Jonathan appeared to be having trouble with moving it correctly, while O’Connell was efficiently tying a long piece of rope to a pillar.
“Jonathan! You’re meant to catch the sun with that!” she informed.
Jonathan instead chose to rub the mirror vigorously, clearly trying to remove the sand that had stained its surface. It wasn’t the worst use of his time, she supposed. Evelyn returned to her mirror, still struggling with its weight. She made a mental note to ask O’Connell for help once he was done with the rope. Lifting her head to check his progress, she was surprised to see the man already standing in front of her.
“So, uh, what are these old mirrors for?” he asked haltingly.
“Ancient mirrors.” she corrected. “It’s an ancient Egyptian trick, you’ll see”
O’Connell nodded, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. He seemed… bashful? Evelyn couldn’t help but feel intrigued. She had never seen him so unsure of himself. It was an interesting contrast to the hardy, self-assured man she had come to know during their trek through the desert.
“Here, this is for, uh, you,” O’Connell murmured, thrusting a small leather package into her hands.
Evelyn looked up in shock. For his part, O’Connell couldn’t quite meet her gaze. What could he have possibly given her? Nonetheless, she felt a small feeling of warmth materialise in her chest. He had obtained this, just for her? It was an undoubtedly pleasing thought. Though, where had he gotten it from?
“It’s something I borrowed off of our American brethren,” he said, as if in direct answer to her thoughts. Somehow it didn’t surprise Evelyn that O’Connell and her brother and such similar definitions of ‘borrow’. Since it was from the Americans, however, she elected to ignore it.
“I thought you might like it- might need it,” O’Connell continued. He was still swaying awkwardly in place, as if he was too nervous to stay still.
It was an astonishingly endearing sight. Evelyn had the sneaking suspicion that this was a shade of Rick O’Connell that he had kept firmly under the surface and that it appeared now without his meaning. The idea that she had somehow made him shy was a lovely one.
“For when you’re-” O’Connell stopped himself, before making a digging gesture with his hands. He nodded again quickly, suddenly turning back to his rope as he did so. The motion was oddly reminiscent of a soldier beating a hasty retreat from battle.
It was unquestionably curious behaviour, so different from the roguish gunfighter she had encountered on the riverboat, or even the confident prisoner who had so easily stolen a kiss from her. That he showed this behaviour around her and her alone made Evelyn’s heart flutter brightly in her chest. With slight reluctance she stamped the feeling down. No, she would not simply fall at his feet because he had gotten her (not even gotten, stolen , she reminded herself) a gift.
However, Evelyn’s curiosity would not be deterred. Slowly, she unfolded the package, which she now recognised as a roll of leather. Inside were … tools. Not just any tools, however, archaeological tools. Everything a burgeoning Egyptologist would need to safely examine the artifacts they would come across.
A slow, shining smile spread across her face. This time she didn’t try to tamp down the vivid warmth that was spreading from her chest to her limbs. This … this was profound. It wasn’t just the gift she realised, flashing back to his last sentence. It was a statement of understanding. This was encouragement, not only acknowledging her skills but also aiding her unobtrusively in putting those skills into action. For when you’re digging. Because he understood that Evelyn Carnahan would not simply stand by and let others do all the work.
As she watched him swing confidently into the cavern underneath the ruins, she came to a welcome realisation.
Perhaps Rick O’Connell was not quite the filthy, rude scoundrel she had accused him of being.
Perhaps… perhaps she had come to like him. Just a smallest amount, of course.