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It was silly, really.
Alone in the Sahara, being next to Rick felt easy. Natural, even. But when they reached the first outpost on their way back home, everything changed again.
There were rules and expectations. Jonathan was addressed first in any conversation with a stranger. Rick was regarded with an unsettling mixture of respect and resentment. And everyone seemed to be very concerned with whom Evelyn was traveling with, usually glancing sideways at Rick when they asked. What they really wanted to know was who she belonged to.
She belonged to herself, of course. But all the same, Rick started to stand further away under the gaze of propriety, and Jonathan stood a bit closer.
This was exactly the opposite of what Evelyn wanted.
There’s really no thanks for saving the world, is there? Over the past fortnight, she had explored a lost city, found ancient treasures, debunked flawed academic theories… Raised the dead by accident, which was not so great. But she fixed it a few days later! They had all escaped horrible deaths on multiple occasions over the last few days. Evelyn felt she more than deserved to be as close to Rick O’Connell as she wanted after all that.
But there she was, alone in her cabin on another barge, floating slowly up the Nile.
Absolutely ridiculous.
Rick was pacing in his tiny cabin on the other side of the boat.
The vessel sailed peacefully enough, slowly carrying them back to Cairo and away from Hamunaptra. But the past week had been a veritable symphony of surprises, each moment of victory truncated by another setback. Sleeping tonight after everything he’d seen was out of the question. Besides, how could Rick rest when he’d learned what it felt like to lose Evelyn Carnahan?
That was it. The real reason he couldn’t sleep. Rick was a soldier at his core. He wasn’t made for war; no man truly was, whatever they might say. But he’d been molded for it, by circumstance and by choice. He’d become accustomed to surprises. Accustomed to never truly letting his guard down. Accustomed to seeing things that could never be explained or fully justified.
But he wasn’t accustomed to her. And he knew with undeniable clarity, despite only knowing Evelyn for a couple of weeks, that he would never be accustomed to being away from her. If he had it his way, they’d be together right now. And every day after that for the rest of their lives.
Rick shook his head, rubbing his forehead into his palms. He couldn’t let himself think like that. It was too hopeful. He knew better than to hope for anything real with Evelyn Carnahan. He’d already begun to distance himself from her after they reached a Bedouin village, silently chastising himself for all the kisses he stole in a very romantic desert. They were too different for a true romance. Too unnatural a match for the world to accept. She would realize it too, once the adrenaline wore off. But Rick marched toward his door all the same. He wrenched it open, his mind made up.
Evelyn wasn’t out of his sight yet. He could protect her until that day came.
Rick slowed as he approached her cabin. He leaned his ear toward the door. Nothing stirred on the other side of it, and after all Evelyn had seen the past few weeks, he wasn’t about to wake her up. He checked his pistol for bullets, secured it in his holster, and sank to the floor. If he was going to rest tonight, it could only be here, between Evelyn and whatever might be around the corner. He was as close to her as he could explain, if forced to. He leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes.
Rick's muscles had only just begun to relax when the cabin door suddenly swung open and he fell backward like a pile of bricks. His head smacked the floor with a sharp CRACK.
“SHIIITTT!!”
“Oh my god! RICK!”
He grabbed the back of his skull, which started to throb menacingly. He looked up to see Evelyn, her long curls cascading around her shocked face, looking down at him with sparkling green eyes.
“What are you doing outside my door!?” she demanded.
“I was protecting you,” Rick grumbled, rolling his eyes and rising gingerly from the floor.
“From what?! Errant fish?!”
“Evelyn, the last time you were alone in a cabin like this, you nearly got your face slashed open.”
“Oh, that’s true,” Evelyn said meekly. “God, are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his head as he moved just inside the doorway. “You weren’t even supposed to know I was here. You were supposed to be asleep. Where the hell were you going in the middle of the night all by yourself?”
“I beg your pardon, mister O’Connell! I am at perfect liberty to walk around whenever I want–”
“Evelyn…”
She hesitated, clearly embarrassed to say whatever she was about to say.
“I- I thought– Alright, fine! I was on my way to find you.”
He smiled a distinctly pleased, lopsided smile, to which Evelyn instinctually rolled her eyes. But she found herself moving a few inches closer to him on instinct as well, looking up at his broad shoulders. God, she loved how tall he was. Were their lips moving closer together? They were definitely moving closer together. Mere inches, really…
Just before her lips grazed his, she saw fresh blood blooming onto his shirt from the corner of her eye. It crept out slowly from under his right armpit.
“What’s this?” she asked, lifting his arm unceremoniously. “Rick, you said you bandaged everything!”
“Well, this one’s kind of in a tricky spot.”
“Right. Come on, let’s patch this up,” she ordered, moving to close the door behind him. Her sudden business-like tone was giving him whiplash. Maybe he was imagining things, but he felt sure Evelyn was about to kiss him a moment ago.
“I can do it later,” Rick said, trying to get her mind off a silly cut and back to more important things, like his hands in her hair.
“Stop being so ridiculous, it’ll only take a moment,” she bit back, crossing the small room to the first aid kit by the sink. “You don’t have to be brave all the time, you know.” Evelyn motioned for him to sit down at the small table in the center of the room. She was frustratingly determined, so he thought he may as well point out the obvious.
“If anyone saw me come in and the door close,” Rick said, “we’re going to get some pointed stares in the morning.” He gave Evelyn a serious look, but sat down all the same, removing his holster with a wince and hanging it on the back of the chair.
“I don’t care in the slightest. Do you?”
“No. Your brother might.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes so dramatically this time that Rick couldn’t help but chuckle. He saw a smile spread across her face at the sound of his laughter, and his stomach did several flips.
“I can handle Jonathan,” she said, unloading bandages and ointments onto the table. “Besides, I’m not sure he would mind. The only reason society cares about what we do in here is because once upon a time, my brother might’ve sold me to you in exchange for a cow.”
Rick chuckled again, amazed at her for possibly the millionth time.
“Grow up with an Egyptian mother and an English father, and you learn pretty quickly how arbitrary and… well, harmful everyone’s rules are. It’s infuriating how slowly society evolves.”
“I get it,” Rick said softly. Evelyn knelt beside him and removed his shirt without a hint of embarrassment. “Single moms and their kids don’t belong anywhere either.”
“Is she dead?” Evelyn asked, surveying the wound. He appreciated how direct she was. No euphemisms or gentle tones, which he always hated. Tip-toeing around death never made it any easier.
”Yeah,” he replied. “About fourteen years ago.”
”So we’re both orphans.”
They locked eyes briefly before she turned back to the slash across his ribs. It was a rather large cut, but a superficial one too, thankfully. Any deeper and it might have hit the lungs. Lucky as they were, she was merely cleaning the hard-to-reach spot and bandaging it to keep any infections at bay. The bruising across Rick's abdomen was far more concerning. But there was nothing either of them could do about that now.
He watched Evelyn work, relishing the way her brow furrowed, how seriously she was taking the job. As she finished, she noticed Rick staring and blushed. But she let her eyes roam across his chest, taking in the various shades the sun had turned his skin, and the map of scars that danced in the dwindling candlelight. She placed her fingers gently on a particularly long scar running from his ribs down toward his navel.
“What’s this one from?” she asked softly.
“Are we playing twenty questions now?” he asked.
“Would that be a problem?” she replied sincerely.
Rick paused, as if turning the question over in his mind every which way. “That depends,” he said finally.
“On what?”
“On how you react to the answers.”
Evelyn looked up slowly. As their eyes met, Rick noticed a distinct glare of indignation in her eyes, which she was failing miserably to hide with her even tone.
“Do you think I’m snobbish?” she asked.
“Not even a little bit,” he replied quickly. “I just… want you to stick around.”
“Do I look as if I’m about to run away? We are actually in my cabin, not yours.”
“Yeah, but if I tell you about my past,” he said carefully, “you might not care if it’s your room. Just that you’re as far away from me as possible. I’m not exactly… Well, I’ve had some… colorful-- It’s not the most charming life story.”
“Oh I find you quite charming,” Evelyn retorted with a smirk. They exchanged a long look, and he felt uncomfortably bare, like she was looking straight into his soul.
“The first time I laid eyes on you,” she continued, “you were being hauled into a jail cell, greasy hair down to your shoulders, rags for clothes - much like now, by the way. And in the span of a few minutes, you punched my brother, stole a kiss from me through cell bars, and then went on your merry way to be hanged for what so far has only been described as ‘a good time’. And by the way, I saved your life not 20 minutes later, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I definitely haven’t.”
She rose back to her feet, cleaning up the first aid kit remnants on the table. She was standing just between Rick's knees now, their bodies unavoidably close in the cramped room. The candle on the tiny table had only an inch of life left.
“And then,” said Evelyn, “you spent the next day, and every day of your life since that day, protecting me and my foolish-yet-loveable brother, listening to me, believing in me, frustrating me in a way that no person - man or woman- has ever managed to do before, and… saving my life.” She turned to face him and stared at him intently, as if willing him to see her. “I know exactly who you are, Mr. O’Connell. I’m not afraid of your past.”
“When are you going to stop calling me ‘Mr. O’Connell'?”
“When are you going to stop calling me ‘Evelyn'?”
“I’m not sure you want me to call you anything else.”
”You know what?” she said frustratedly. “I think you’re much more afraid of me than I am of you.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the table.
Rick looked up at her in surprise, his eyebrows raised. But after thinking for a moment, his gaze fell to the floor.
”Maybe,” Rick said quietly. “Maybe afraid of how I feel when I’m around you.”
”Which is what?” Evelyn asked sharply, as if daring him to take a risk.
He shifted slightly in the chair. He reached out slowly with one hand, grabbing Evelyn gently behind her thigh and pulling her closer to him. He licked his lips, and she suddenly found it very hard to breathe. Rick’s eyes were level with her chest, but he was looking up at her face, searching for any sign of resistance to his touch. When none came, he reached the other hand out, holding her before him. After a moment’s hesitation, Rick let his face fall gently to her sternum, and he kissed her through the thin fabric of her nightgown just between her breasts.
Evelyn let out a soft sigh. She never imagined such a simple act -his forehead and lips pressed so lightly against her chest- could cause her skin to erupt with goosebumps, or send shivers up and down her spine. Rick’s hands moved slowly up to her hips. As they did so, the candle nub on the table finally went out, instantly cloaking the room in darkness. A cloud shifted in the sky, and through the small cabin window, the waning crescent moon covered their skin in dappled moonlight.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered into her nightgown. Rick felt more than saw her head shake in response. He rose slowly from the chair, his mouth trailing soft kisses up between the swells off her breasts and over her collarbone, landing in the crook of her neck. His hands spread across her back, holding her to him. “Tell me to stop, Evy,” he whispered, lips grazing her skin as he spoke. A rush of affection swelled in her at the sound of her nickname in Rick’s mouth. But she felt the hesitation in Rick's kisses too, as if he was awaiting assured rejection.
“No,” she breathed, grabbing his face and bringing his gaze up to meet hers. “Please don’t sto—“
And before the final syllable had finished forming in her mouth, Rick had cradled the back of her head in one large hand, pulling her lips onto his. They kissed for the first time without restraint or shyness. Evy realized it was the first time they had kissed alone, away from anyone’s gaze. It was as if they were coming alive, electrified into being by every point of contact between them. Every brush of their fingertips threatened to overwhelm their senses. Every separation and reunion of their lips stole more breath from their lungs.
Rick’s hands moved from Evy's hips back down to her thighs as their lips continued to dance. He bunched up her nightgown above her knees, then lifted Evy easily, placing her gently onto the table. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist and her palms ran up his bare arms until they found the hair at the nape of his neck. Rick groaned at their newfound closeness, and she held his lips tighter to her skin as he sucked and kissed his way to her shoulder.
It was all so natural. Here under the moonlight, floating along the Nile, they felt as though nothing could feel more comfortable or safe or right as being wrapped around each other. It was as though their bodies had known each other for lifetimes, but had been forced apart for decades. Or maybe centuries. They had found each other again, and every corner of their souls seemed to be more at peace because of it.
Evy fumbled with his belt buckle, distracted by the sensation of his thumb ghosting over her jaw as he kissed the hollow of her neck. After a few weak-handed attempts, she finally unhooked it and pulled the top button of his trousers free. Rick’s lips returned to her mouth as he grabbed the bunched-up fabric around her hips and began to slowly pull upwards. Evy slowly raised her arms to let Rick free her of her nightgown, but left her lips glued to his. The thin fabric tickled her abdomen. His hands ghosted over her ribs, and then–
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Evy!” Jonathan yelled from the otherside of the door. “Evy! Are you in there?!”
Rick growled into Evy’s shoulder as she shut her eyes, feeling a level of anger that was reserved only for her big brother.
“Evy!?” Jonathan yelled again.
“You know what I’d love?” breathed Rick, leaning his forehead into Evy’s. They both were trying desperately to slow their breathing.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“What’s that?” she replied.
“To be alone with you,” he said.
She nodded in agreement. Rick untangled himself from Evy’s embrace, and she felt a pang of loss as his body moved away from hers. He crossed to the door, and Evy managed to stand and straighten her nightgown back to full length just before Rick swung the door open.
“Ev– Hey! What’s he doing here?!” demanded Jonathan, in what Evy knew to be partially manufactured horror. “O’Connell, where is your shirt?! Your– Your belt’s undone!!”
Rick turned to Evy and pointed at Jonathan.
“See? He minds.”
“Oh, please,” said Evy, dismissively. “Jonathan, what could you possibly need at this hour?”
“Uh…” he began, suddenly nervous. “Well I actually was looking for Rick. I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of–”
“Who’d you tell?” said Rick, cutting to the chase. Evelyn’s heart fell.
“I didn’t tell anybody anything!” said Jonathan, unconvincingly.
“Oh Jonathan!” groaned Evy. “You didn’t!”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be judgemental, Ms. Carnahan,” he retorted.
“Stop that!” Evy yelled. “You won’t get out of it that way!”
“Fine,” Jonathan said, resigned. “I may have mentioned a few artifacts over a card–”
“Right,” said Rick, clearly fuming. He reached for his shirt and shucked it on, then snatched his holster off the chair. “Let’s go.”
He grabbed Jonthan roughly by the shoulder and pushed him back through the doorway. Rick turned to Evy with a look that could only be described as protective.
“Stay here,” he said in that bossy tone that made Evy equal parts hot and cold. The door slammed shut and Evy stood there, alone in her cabin on another barge, floating slowly up the Nile.
Except now, she was frustrated in all sorts of new ways.
Absolutely ridiculous.