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The look on Ahkmenrah’s face when he opened his present was… well. Even though Larry knew it was just a joke, and that his real present was currently hiding in the Egyptian Gallery, the night guard still winced.
Not that Ahkmenrah wasn’t doing his best to appreciate the panda neck pillow. He smiled, hesitantly, and lightly traced the nose, obviously trying to figure out what it was. “Ah, Larry? Perhaps you could tell me what this is?”
“It’s, uh, a neck pillow. For your neck,” Larry said helpfully. “It relieves pain, keeps you from getting a sore neck if you’re sleeping in a weird position. I thought it might help with, y’know,” and here he gestured vaguely. “Lying in your coffin.”
“Sarcophagus,” Ahkmenrah corrected quietly, staring down at the pillow. He looked up, his eyes suddenly alight with curiosity. “And what is the animal on it?”
Larry started to have some misgivings at that point.
“Uh, it’s a panda,” he said. “They live in Asia and eat bamboo. And sometimes fight crime with ninja skills, if you ask Nicky.”
The look of utter confusion on Ahkmenrah’s face was priceless.
“Listen, uh, thank you for the sun staff, it’s amazing, I really appreciate it, but—” Larry faltered at the sudden flash of disappointment that flitted across the pharaoh’s face. Oh hell. He steeled his resolve. Keeping Ahk in the dark about his real present would make his reaction to getting his real present that much better, no matter how awkward it felt now. “But I gotta check on Jed and Octavius, make sure they aren't getting into any trouble. Did you know they were in the Frontiers Exhibit the other night, fu—uh.” He paused, feeling his face go brilliant red. “Yeah.”
Ahkmenrah’s face smoothed. “I think I heard the screams, yes.” He said dryly. “I… thank you for your gift, Larry. I appreciate the intent behind it, although I doubt I’ll be able to enjoy it during the day.” His expression turned wry. “But thank you, anyway.”
“Oh, yeah, no problem!” Larry found himself standing up from the couch he’d appropriated from the security guard’s office, clutching the weird staff in his hands. Backing away, he shot a nervous grin at the pharaoh. “Um, meet me up in the Egyptian Gallery later?”
Ahkmeanrah’s expression turned bemused. “Of course,” he said, frowning. “Why—”
Right on cue, Nick appeared by the Egyptian pharaoh’s shoulder, a smile practically splitting his face. It took the night guard by surprise, how much Nick’s face resembled his own just then. Larry was never going to get over how much his son had turned out to look like him. He’d found his old senior yearbook a few weeks ago, and seeing his eighteen-year-old face beaming up at him from the laminated page had felt weirdly like déjà vu when he’d compared it to Nicky’s.
“Ahk! You have got to see what Attila got for Christmas!” Nick said, his whole body trembling with excitement, and that was all Erica right there. A bit of nostalgia settled into Larry’s bones, and he felt the corners of his mouth tilt upwards. She’d always been the excitable one, ready for whatever life threw her way. Even while going through the divorce, she’d remained optimistic, smiling brightly at him and talking about how this was just better for everybody in the long run.
We can still be friends, Larry. This isn’t the end of us; it’s just that this marriage, it didn’t work out. And that’s okay. We can still be close, we just aren’t meant to be in a relationship like this. And we’ll have Nick, so we’ll still see each other. Everything will be fine, I promise. We just weren’t meant to be.
Larry cautiously tiptoed away from the two, watching his son tugging insistently on Ahkmenrah’s sleeve as he walked away. It didn’t take a lot of effort to slip past everyone in the foyer, since they were so caught up in Christmas cheer (he still couldn't believe they’d never celebrated a Christmas before; that is, he could believe it only too well, and the thought of that still filled him with remorse for not getting hired sooner).
“Lawrence!” Teddy cried from a nearby alcove, and Larry nearly jumped right out of his skin. Okay, maybe it wasn't going to be that easy to get away. “Why are you leaving so early? The party’s just begun!”
“Shhh,” Larry waved at the president desperately as he advanced on the night guard, because some of Attila’s Huns were looking around suspiciously for the source of the commotion. “I’m not—I’m not leaving, I've just got something I have to take care of, alright?”
“Ah,” Teddy said in a conspiratorial whisper, “a secret, then?” He grinned wide under his mustache. “What do you have in mind, lad?”
“Uh, a present.” Larry paused. “For Ahkmenrah,” he added lamely, and could feel his face heating up at the implications. “I've already got it set up in his, uh, tomb, but I need to make sure it’s good to go before he gets it.” Wow, forget implications, he was moving right on to seventeen-year-old-with-a-crush territory. He wondered idly if Ahkmenrah’s ears were burning from where he sat with Nick and Attila.
“Ah,” Teddy said again, and was that a knowing glint in his eyes? Larry shook off the feeling of impending doom and nodded.
“Look,” he said cautiously, “do you think you could, I don’t know, send him up here in ten minutes? I’ll have it ready by then.”
“Of course, my boy.” Teddy’s face split into another one of those heartfelt smiles, the kind that made Larry feel warm inside, like a stomach full of hot stew on a cold winter’s evening. Teddy had that effect on people. “I’ll cover for you.”
Teddy did not look gleeful, Larry said to himself firmly as he went upstairs. Once at the top, he glanced down to look at the museum’s inhabitants, all crowing over their gifts and the food Larry and Nick had brought with them. If he squinted, he could just make out the microscopic figures of Jed and Octavius, sitting near the punch bowl. He hoped they were doing well tonight. He’d have to remember to ask them what they thought of their gifts—a new car for both of them, and two matching sweaters that Nick had knitted himself.
Below, Nick glanced up from where he sat cross-legged beside Ahkmenrah, whose pillow was sitting comfortably around his neck. His son beamed up at him, giving him a subtle but clear a-okay sign, and turned his attention back to Attila and his beginner’s magic kit. The Hun was excitedly laughing over his present (and yeah, Larry did good with that one), and Ahkmenrah seemed to be translating the instructions for him. Larry didn’t bother to hide his smile at the sight, and then moved on towards the Egyptian Gallery.
All too soon, the ruckus of combined music and playful shouting from the exhibits faded away to the less familiar silence that normally pervaded the museum during the day hours. With practically everyone gathered in the foyer, the tranquility was almost heavy within the deeper parts of the museum. He continued to walk, waving at a few new paintings on the walls and wishing them a Merry Christmas as he passed them. He kept his pace brisk, and soon he was nearing the currently shut doors of Ahkmenrah’s tomb.
Peering inside, he cautiously slipped his keys out of his pocket and fit them into the lock, turning the key slowly until it popped open. Then he took a quick glance down both ends of the hall, and slithered inside, shutting the doors firmly behind him.
Inside, everything was still, except for the jackal-headed statues, which were too big to leave the tomb. Larry gave them a wave, wishing not for the first time that he knew what they were thinking. It was creepy, how expressionless they were. He stepped past them, ignoring the ominous sound of stone grinding as they turned to watch him.
In the middle of the large, albeit darkened room, Larry stopped and said out loud, “Okay, I know you’re in here. There’s no way you could have gotten out, seriously. Just come on out, Ahk’s going to be here soon and I need to make sure you’re inside. ”
There was a rustle within the inner chambers of Ahkmenrah’s improvised tomb, and Larry aimed his attention at where he’d heard the sound. There, just behind the sarcophagus; a glimpse of silvery fur, and then the flash of green eyes peering out at him from within the gloom.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” Larry coaxed, rubbing his fingers together the way he’d seen Erica do it once. “Miw-sherit, right? C’mon, I’m not going to hurt you.” He crept closer towards the sarcophagus, careful to keep his movements as non-threatening as possible. The cat had been an absolute storm as soon as she’d woken up, thrashing about in her mummified bandages and leaving a nasty scratch up his forearm that he’d had to use long sleeves to cover. He was a lot more wary now that he knew what a panicked cat looked like. He’d always been a little more of a dog person, while Erica had loved cats with a passion that suggested she’d be fine with being a Crazy Old Cat Lady™ if she didn't get married. He was glad he’d called her, after Miw-sherit had woken up screeching in the security office the other night. She’d been exasperated but patient, giving him tips on how to calm her down enough to carry, and how to keep her from having another fit. Larry couldn’t really blame the cat; he’d be freaked out too if he suddenly woke up about four thousand years after he’d died.
He drew on Erica’s suggestions now (along with the hazy memories of another time, when things had seemed so right between the two of them, sunlight streaming through the window and Erica, all in white, clicking her tongue at a kitten), crouching in front of the bristling feline (get down on her level) and gently extracting a feathery cat toy from inside his coat (try and distract her). Carefully, he waved it in front of her, a gentle back-and-forth motion that didn't stop (no sudden movements).
Miw-sherit’s green eyes gleamed as she took in the toy, watching its movements with the precision of a dedicated hunter. She edged out from behind Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus to continue tracking the feathers at the tip of the wand-like toy. Larry smoothly scooted over to the side, so that the cat couldn’t see him, and laid the feather-toy on the ground, still waving it back and forth.
A grey, striped paw slid out from behind the coffin. Larry smiled to himself, and carefully began to drag the toy away from the edge, towards him. Slowly, the cat followed, her gaze latched on the feathers to the exclusion of everything else. She was light grey, bordering on silver, with dark spots on her sides and stripes running down her limbs. One long stripe ran down the length of her back, ending only at the tip of her thin tail. She was a pretty cute cat, Larry thought as he moved the cat toy closer towards his lap. He could see the appeal, although that could have been Erica’s influence talking.
Eventually, Larry managed to get Miw-sherit close enough for him to touch her, and then he moved his free hand, holding out two fingers for her to sniff (she’ll need to catch your scent). The cat glared at his hand suspiciously, her eyes flicking between the fingers and the toy that now lay lifelessly on the ground. After a moment’s indecision, the cat grudgingly sniffed his fingers, then paused, sniffing them again. After a minute, where she sat staring at his hand with her nose twitching wildly, she carefully rubbed her face along them. Larry heaved a sigh of relief. So she liked him, or tolerated him at least. That was good.
Apparently, Miw-sherit had actually taken a shine to him, because only a second later she was plopping into his lap, a purr rumbling through her whole body. Larry blinked down at his sudden lapful of cat, and tentatively began to pet her, rubbing her ears like Erica had done practically a lifetime ago with her kitten. Impossibly, her purr became louder, and she closed her eyes, her paws tucked neatly underneath her whip-cord body. She sounds like a lawnmower, Larry thought, amused.
He didn't know how long he sat there, in front of Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus with Miw-sherit in his lap, petting her gently, but it felt like it was a little too soon before footsteps sounded in the hall outside.
Ahkmenrah. Larry knew the sound of those shuffling footsteps anywhere. I guess Teddy pulled through, he thought, and became abruptly aware of the nervous pit that had opened up in his stomach. His heart picked up its pace, and the hand he ran down Miw-sherit’s back was actually trembling. Okay, he’d definitely gone into seventeen-year-old-with-a-crush territory, and apparently he was making that his home to stay. His tongue felt thick where it rested in his throat, and he swallowed, trying to calm the shivers running down his spine. God, he hoped Ahkmenrah liked his present.
“Larry?” The sound of Ahkmenrah’s voice had the night guard jumping up, his heart beating way too fast. Miw-sherit let out a startled noise, and then gave him such a disgusted look that it had him choking back hysterical laughter. She rose to her feet, infinitely graceful, and leapt on top of the sarcophagus, settling into a crouch with her tail gently across her front paws.
“Uh, yeah, Ahk, over here.” Larry left the room, not without giving Miw-sherit another pat on the head, to which she graced him with a sulky look. He tried not to take it too personally. Moving towards the entrance to the tomb, Larry realized that he’d kept the door shut, leaving Ahkmenrah visibly confused.
“Oh, crap—here, sorry, I forgot I closed it.” He pulled out his keys, unlocking the door and letting the young pharaoh in. Ahkmenrah gave him a strange look as the jackal-headed guards bowed to him.
“Why was the gate locked?”
“Oh, uh.” Larry hesitated. “Listen, that gift from before, it was kind of a joke. Nicky helped me pick it out, said your face would ‘be hilarious’ when you saw it, but,” and he paused again, not meeting Ahkmenrah’s curious gaze. “Your real gift, it’s in there.” He waved a hand towards the inner tomb, shrouded in darkness.
Ahkmenrah blinked. “You got me… another gift?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Maybe this was going to be harder to explain than he thought. “There’s this thing called White Elephant, and it’s where you—you know what, never mind.” He waved his hand towards the room again. “Just, uh. Go check it out; I think you’ll like it.”
Of all the strange things Larry had requested of McPhee, asking for the ‘sacred cat of Ahkmenrah’ had to have been the easiest victory he’d ever won. He hadn’t even had to argue for that long—one minute in of suggesting they should have it shipped to the museum (“You know, kids like animals and all, and we’ve got a whole bunch of Ahkmenrah stuff already, why not get the cat too?” “Well… alright, if you think it’ll get us more publicity—” “Oh, yeah, yeah, definitely.” A pause. “… Are you sure you don’t want to ask for anything stranger while you’re here?”) and McPhee was already dialing the number to get Miw-sherit over to the Museum of Natural History. Larry’d briefly thought of tying a bow around her neck when she got there, the night before Christmas day, then dismissed the idea as soon as Miw-sherit proved just how spirited cats could be. That scratch would probably scar, he thought ruefully as Ahkmenrah drifted towards the back of his tomb.
The night guard trailed after him, stopping in the doorway when Ahkmenrah entered the room. Apparently, Miw-sherit was smarter than he’d given her credit for—she was nowhere to be seen, except for the brief flash of green eyes behind the sarcophagus that only Larry could see from his vantage point. He hid a smile.
“I don’t think I understand,” Ahkmenrah said, turned back to face Larry, who leaned casually against the frame. “Is this another joke?”
“Nope,” Larry said, and it was amazing how quickly his nerves had melted away in the face of this moment. “Turn around.”
With a skeptical look Ahkmenrah turned away—and froze as Miw-sherit stepped out languidly from the shadows of the pharaoh’s coffin.
For a moment, Ahkmenrah stood there, stock-still as the cat stood fully in the light. From where he was, Larry couldn’t see Ahkmenrah’s expression, and a small pit of worry bloomed in his stomach. Then the young pharaoh was moving forward, one bronze arm extended towards the feline, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he ran it down the cat’s spine.
“Miw-sherit?” He asked finally, and Larry looked away at the trembling note in the pharaoh’s voice. The moment felt private, too personal to look at when he was only an outsider in their reunion. There was a delicate meow in response to Ahkmenrah’s question, a little confirming trill of happiness, and then he could hear her thunderstorm-purring. There was a rustle, and Larry looked back into the room to see the feline resting comfortably in Ahkmenrah’s arms, rubbing her face against his with forceful affection.
“It’s been too long,” Ahkmenrah said hoarsely. He hugged the cat to his chest tighter, as if by sheer force he could incorporate her into his body so that they would never be separated again. Miw-sherit let out a comforting chirp, her paws kneading into the pharaoh’s arm.
“About four thousand years, right?” Larry said softly, resting his arms over his chest.
“Yes,” Ahkmenrah murmured. He turned to face him. “I—”
The pharaoh paused, looking lost for words. “This is a magnificent gift, Larry,” he said finally, stepping closer to the doorway. “I… I cannot tell you what this means to me, to have Miw-sherit back. Thank you.”
Larry shifted, feeling his face heat at the sheer gratitude in Ahkmenrah’s voice. “It wasn’t, y’know, anything huge,” he said, fighting the urge to rub at the back of his head again. “I didn’t know what you’d normally like, like what do you even get for a thousands-year-old pharaoh for Christmas?” He stopped himself, before he could go on babbling like an idiot. “So I just thought, maybe you’d like, I don’t know, your pet or something, so…” He trailed off. Ahkmenrah was incredibly close now, the cat still clutched in his arms like a lifeline. They were almost nose to nose, they were so close together. Larry shifted away from the door frame, unconsciously straightening and dropping his arms back to his sides.
“I disagree.” The pharaoh said quietly. “This is an incredibly significant gift. For four thousand years, I have wandered the night, restless and without companions, save for my guards.” A wry smile twisted his lips. “If you haven’t noticed, they are not very loquacious.”
“Right,” Larry said, feeling a little thrown by the dictionary speech.
“For the first few thousand years, I was alone, until my tomb was discovered and I was shipped to Cambridge. And even then, I was not allowed freedom, only the minimum of contact that came with the night guard there.” The pharaoh looked Larry in the eye, the grey irises dark within the murky room. “When I was taken here, I had long abandoned the hope of ever being let out. For fifty years I was trapped within that sarcophagus, with only my thoughts for company, and the sounds of the other exhibits while they roamed the halls, taunting me. And then you; you come to work here, and on the third night of your employment you not only release me, but you grant me the freedom to walk the halls, to come outside with you, to fight for this museum. You have given me everything, Larry, and now this,” the pharaoh exhaled softly, looking down at the contented cat in his arms. “You brought me my cat back.”
He smiled again, that strange little twist to his lips. “It can’t have been easy locating her. How—?”
“I, uh,” Larry said very intelligently. “Just a little research, I checked out Cambridge’s Egypt-y… stuff. It wasn't too hard to convince McPhee, I just pulled a few strings to get her here. You wouldn't believe how mad she was when she first woke up,” he added, because his brain to mouth filter had officially snapped in half. “She nearly scratched my face off.”
“You will never cease to amaze me,” Ahkmenrah said in a tone of wonder. His eyes darted over Larry’s face, taking him in.
Larry blinked. The air around them had suddenly gone heavy, a strange undercurrent running through it. Ahkmenrah’s face was unreadable, and in his arms Miw-sherit had gone still, her ears pricked forward.
“So are you saying you like it? Your gift, I mean.” Larry’s voice was low. It seemed, in the inner chambers of the pharaoh’s tomb, that to speak loudly would mean shattering the moment between them, breaking it apart like shards of glass. The world around them was hushed, muffled. Somewhere, in the foyer of the museum, Attila was performing magic tricks; Rexy lumbered about, being extra careful with his tail so that he wouldn't knock over the tree Larry and Nick had brought; Jed and Octavius, having migrated from the punch bowl, sat together on the table in their hand-made sweaters, talking quietly, not noticing the shining green plant with white berries hovering over them. At the party, Teddy was dancing, spinning Sacagawea gracefully to the beat of Jingle Bell Rock, with Nick’s delighted laughter their accompaniment.
But in that moment, so far away from the others, it was just them. A night guard and a pharaoh, standing so close together that they were sharing the same breath, and a clever cat between them. Nothing else mattered.
“I love it,” Ahkmenrah whispered finally, his eyes raking over Larry’s face once more. He leaned in, and Larry felt the electricity around them surge into that one tiny movement.
“Are we still talking about the cat?” The question was hushed, and the night guard found himself looking at Ahkmenrah’s lips, smooth and thin.
Ahkmenrah’s lips bowed upward. “No,” he breathed, and bridged the gap between them.
The press of lips against his was soft, gentle to a surprising degree. Larry didn’t know what he’d expected, but Ahkmenrah’s kissing was delicate. He kissed him with little pressure, nipping at his bottom lip so lightly that the feeling almost didn't register. Larry felt his hands come up to cup the pharaoh’s jaw, his fingers curling around the back of his head and sinking into the loose curls that peeked out from under the golden crown.
Was this how ancient Egyptians kissed? It was heady, this type of kissing, and it had Larry feeling almost hypersensitive. The faintest brush of lips against his left him gasping, electricity shooting up his spine, and he dragged the pharaoh closer, wondered what sounds he would make with a deeper kiss.
Squished between them, Miw-sherit let out an indignant squawk. Larry felt the cat leap out of Ahkmenrah’s arms, ostensibly settling back onto the sarcophagus. Sorry, Miw-sherit, Larry thought dizzily, and then Ahkmenrah’s hands, now free of annoyed feline, rose to clutch at Larry’s shoulders, the back of his head.
Larry was the one who deepened the kiss. He’d never been a soft kisser. For someone who looked like he was, well, whipped, he’d always been a strong lover, pressing hard and rough against the people he’d been with. Now, he tugged on Ahkmenrah’s hair, reveling in the way it made the pharaoh gasp and shudder like he’d never been kissed like this before. If all Egyptians kissed like a butterfly walking on a flower, then in all likelihood he probably hadn't. Larry took the chance to bite at the other man’s bottom lip, making the pharaoh in question hiss with surprised pleasure. The hiss quickly turned into a moan as Larry delved deeper into Ahkmenrah’s mouth with his tongue, licking his way inside. There was a clatter as Ahkmenrah’s crown fell off, another heady moan that reverberated in the other man’s throat, and—
There was a spear pressed to his back, sharp and very, very pointy. Larry bit back a frustrated groan and leaned his head against the doorframe, breaking the lip-lock he’d just been in with a very rumpled pharaoh.
“I’m not hurting him,” he protested, feeling a bit cheated. The spear pressed harder, and a warning rumble came from outside the room. Ahkmenrah sighed, his lips bruised red from the force of Larry’s kisses. He didn't seem to be complaining, however, and he muttered what sounded like a curse in his native tongue before raising his voice to address the irritable stone jackals that seemed intent on ruining their Christmas make-out session.
With a scraping grind, the jackals reluctantly backed away, returning to their places at the entrance of Ahkmenrah’s tomb. Larry let out a sigh of relief when the spear digging into his back disappeared, and he shot the pharaoh a look of gratitude.
“Are you alright?” Ahkmenrah peered around to look at Larry’s back. “You aren't hurt, are you?”
“I’m fine,” Larry replied, running a hand through his hair. His lips felt sore, and he was sure Ahkmenrah’s felt the same way. “Here,” he said abruptly, raising a hand to the pharaoh’s mussed hair in an attempt to straighten it.
Ahkmenrah remained still as Larry arranged his hair into some semblance of order, a mysterious little smile playing across his lips. “Better?” He asked dryly when Larry stepped back.
Larry cleared his throat. “Yeah, you don’t look like you've been making out with someone in the janitor’s closet anymore.” Ahkmenrah’s smile widened into a toothy grin. “We should probably, uh,” Larry swung a thumb behind him to point in the general direction of the museum’s Christmas party. “We should probably get back.”
Ahkmenrah leaned down, scooping up the crown that had fallen to the floor. Placing it on his head, he aimed a softer look at the night guard. “Yes. I suppose we should,” he murmured. Turning back towards the sarcophagus, both men were confronted with the sight of a truly exasperated, long-suffering cat. Larry offered Miw-sherit an apologetic shrug. The cat sniffed, turning her head away, and leapt off the coffin to march proudly through the open gate, pausing just outside of it to glance inquiringly at them.
Larry looked at Ahkmenrah. “I think she wants us to follow her.”
“Then we should follow her,” Ahkmenrah shrugged. “Miw-sherit has long since proved her superior intuition. She’s been a very useful cat.”
Larry moved alongside Ahkmenrah as they walked towards the gate, and tried not to feel too intimidated by the glares the jackal-headed guards sent his way. It’s going to be really awkward locking him up for the night, he thought faintly. Ahead of them, Miw-sherit had continued all the way down the hall, looking pointedly at them as if to say hurry up. Larry quickened his pace, matching the pharaoh beside him stride for stride.
“For the record,” Ahkmenrah said suddenly, “I liked your pillow as well. Both gifts are wonderful.”
“Thanks,” Larry replied. “That uh, sun staff, it’s pretty cool too.”
The muted sounds of the party were growing louder, signaling that they were getting closer to the foyer. How Miw-sherit knew where the hell the party was when the only places she’d been were the security office and Ahkmenrah’s tomb, he didn't know, but Larry had learned long ago to stop questioning things like that.
The balcony was empty except for the two of them, and the cat who calmly jumped up onto the railing, observing the foyer with interest. Below them, the party was in full swing, Christmas music playing loud over the speakers, and Nick was dancing from where his DJing equipment (along with the new headphones Larry had bought him) stood. Larry felt the broad smile spread across his face at the sight, and didn't try to stop it.
“Mistletoe,” Ahkmenrah said abruptly. Larry glanced up, and sure enough there was a tiny green plant hanging above their heads, its pristine white berries glowing in the harsh lights of the museum. He would have wondered who had put it there, but the stifled giggling from behind the stairwell and the hint of a black braid was all the answer he needed. Of course.
“I read about it once, last year I think,” Ahkmenrah continued blithely. He raised an eyebrow at Larry’s expression. “There is a tradition surrounding it, is there not?”
“Yeah,” Larry said, calling it quits and giving up on life. “You’re supposed to kiss whoever you’re under it with.”
Ahkmenrah smiled. “I don’t suppose that would be much of a problem,” he said.
“As long as there aren't any spears in my back this time.”
“No spears,” Ahkmenrah promised solemnly, but the twinkle in his grey eyes betrayed him. Larry couldn't help it at that point—he pulled the pharaoh in for another kiss. He kept it light, this time (at least light for him), and settled for the chaste press of lips on his own chapped ones. They were parting all too soon, and at Miw-sherit’s chirrup from behind them they finally separated fully.
The cat nodded her head to the gathering below, looking impatient. Underneath them, a rough circle had formed by the tree. The exhibits seemed to be taking small gifts from a pile, unwrapping and trading them, and in the middle of it all sat Nick, looking like a king presiding over his kingdom. The smug look on his face didn't do anything to detract from the image.
“Looks like Nick showed everybody what a White Elephant gift exchange is.”
“Then perhaps he can educate me.” Ahkmenrah said, picking up Miw-sherit and ignoring her plaintive mew. He moved towards the stairs, then paused and darted a look at Larry. “Coming?”
Below, Attila unearthed a box of sparklers, and Larry winced. He didn't want to think about cleaning up that mess. The rest of the horde were cackling over their new Nerf guns, Rexy was swaying dangerously close to the Christmas tree to the song Holly Jolly Christmas, and the Civil War soldiers were soundlessly cheering as they opened up a box containing socks, the classic White Elephant gift. The air was warm with holiday cheer, and outside Larry could see snow piling up on the cars left parked in the street. Soon he would have to shut the celebration down, dismantle the tree, and clean up the museum floor while the inhabitants drifted back towards their respective sections, readying themselves for another day.
But for now, the circle around Nick cheered with each present opened, the snow was falling softly, and beside him Ahkmenrah was radiating heat like an oven, warm and alive and with a cat tucked safely into his arms. Larry smiled.
“Yeah,” he said, and pressed another kiss against the pharaoh’s mouth.
They joined the party.