Warnings: HAU, M/M sex, humor, mild angst, things coming to life, scarab beetles, OOC, varying chapter lengths, Unbeta'd, blatant use of movie dialogue.
Rating: NC17 Overall Individual Chapters PG-NC17
Pairing: 100% S/X
Comments: Comment if you want to, though it would be nice to know someone is reading it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to someone who is not me. I write for fun not profit.
Note1: The characters may have BTVs/ATs names but they are NOT necessarily playing their Sunndydale characters, hence OOC.
Note 2: My heartfelt thanks go out to my dear friend Bmblbee, for holding my hand through the writing and posting process. *Hugs*
Note 3: This is a plot driven story. What sex there is happens in the natural course of the plot and as part of Spike and Xander's relationship.
Note 4: This is a human/1920's Spike and Xander etc. and behave as such.
Summary: Over 3,000 years ago Angelus the high priest of Seti I, was given the assignment of preparing the recently dead for their journey into the afterlife. Angelus made one terrible mistake - he became smitten with Xan-uk-amun, the male concubine of the Pharaoh himself. Driven mad by jealousy and love, Angelus and Xan-uk-amun murdered the Pharaoh. Angelus's punishment was to be buried alive and suffer the torment of an eternal life in his wretched tomb. In 1925, a band of adventurers seeking fame and fortune - led by William (Spike) Barstow, an English expatriate who had joined the foreign legion, and Xander Harris, an amateur archeologist - find a previously unknown burial site in Egypt. The team starts to dig, hoping to find lost riches, but instead they disturb the tomb of Angelus, and soon the cursed priest rises from his grave to wreck vengeance on them and humanity.
Chapter 7/31 + Prologue
Rating: NC17 Overall
Chapter 7/31 + Prologue
Rating: NC17 Overall
Xander staggered from the river onto the desert sand muttering unhappily, Spike a few feet behind and carrying his pack. "Gone, it's all gone." Xander said miserably. "The equipment, my clothes, everything!" He made a helpless gesture. Spike was too busy staring to answer him. Xander's pajamas were made almost transparent by the water and clung enticingly to his body leaving nothing to the imagination, Spike was blissfully transfixed. "Hey! Hey Barstow." A voice shouted from across the river. Irritated at having his viewing pleasure interrupted Spike turned, scowling. Oz was stood across the river with water up to his ankles and surrounded by the Americans, native diggers and horses, grinning broadly. "Hey, Barstow looks like I have all the horses." He sing-songed. Spike's face slid into an equally broad grin. "Hey Oz, looks like you're on the wrong side of the river," he sing-songed back. Oz looked round, realized Spike was right and threw up his arms and kicked petulantly at the water before stomping off.
Still ginning Spike turned to find Xander glaring at him, hands on hips. Spike's eyebrows rose. "What?" He tried for his most innocent expression. "You shoved me in the water and, and you were," Xander's eyes narrowed. "staring!" For an instant Spike considered denial but thought better of it. He waggled his eyebrows and stepped closer, his tongue curled behind his teeth. "You've got nothing to be ashamed of, Pet," he purred as he brushed passed. "Just be grateful there are no ladies present." He chuckled, Xander's hands flew to his crotch in embarrassment. Wes put on his glasses and emptied the water out of his pith helmet and watched the exchange with concerned interest.
They walked through the rest of the night, Spike took the lead, Xander followed with Wes and Snyder, complaining loudly at the rear. The large, round moon shone down casting a cold and eerie light over the desert. They walked into the Bedouin camp as the sun dawned. Spike quickly made arrangements for some clothes for Xander and reluctantly left him in the care of an elderly man and his three wives, whilst he and Wes went to purchase transport, Snyder disappeared.
Spike folded his arms across his chest and watched Wes gesture wildly at the camel herder. "Four, I said four!" Wes held up four fingers. "FOUR!" He was shouting now, the toothless camel herder grinned and nodded. "God Almighty, four. One, two," He counted off his fingers one by one. "three, four. Four see? Not the whole bloody herd!" Spike sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, ten minutes this had been going on, Wes determined to try his bartering skills. Wes tried again. "Four!" He gestured wildly at the camels and the herder nodded enthusiastically, Spike had, had enough. "Bloody Hell Wes!" He snapped. "Just pay the man!" Wes turned, took in Spike's dark expression and reluctantly reached for his wallet. He counted out the money into the herder's leathery hand, he grinned his toothless grin. "Well I'm glad one of us is happy!" Wes snapped, putting his wallet away.
Spike grabbed two of the camel's by their trailing ropes and Wes grabbed the other two and they began to lead them toward the tents. "That was bloody extortionate for these four flea bags." Wes complained. "Well, we could have got them for nothing, all we had to do was give him Xander," Spike joked. "I know, awfully tempting wasn't it?" Wes replied, Spike's eyebrow rose; a movement caught his eye and he stopped his jaw dropping. Xander had been dressed in a knee length black tunic, trimmed with gold braiding and gold buttons a the neck, underneath he wore white, baggy pants, round his neck he wore a scarf of white, black, red and gold stripes a garland of dried orange flowers on his head and sandals on his feet, he looked stunning. Spike gazed. "No, not tempting, not tempting at all," he mumbled.
They got water and dried food from the Bedouin and set out into the desert in the early morning light. Spike led with Xander by his side, Wes tucked in behind and a long gap to Snyder who sported a black eye, courtesy of a Bedouin woman. Wes sniffed. "I hate camels, smelly buggers and they bite and spit," he complained. "Well I think they're cute." Xander lent forward and patted his camel's curly, haired head, Spike smiled. They traveled through the morning and into early afternoon, miles of flat, featureless sand, then they came across a small oasis and Spike called a halt. It was only a few rocks, a small pool and several palm trees but it gave them some respite from the blazing sun. They ate some dried meat and fruit and dozed until late afternoon, Xander laid near Spike, Wes and Snyder a little apart. Spike got them up and off again in the same formation as before, but this time Snyder sang a the top of his voice and got black looks from everyone and his camel bellowed in protest.
As darkness began to fall Xander grew increasingly worried, finally edging closer to Spike. "Don't you think we ought to stop and make camp for the night?" Spike shook his head. "The Americans won't stop and we have to reach where we're going by dawn. 'Sides it'll be easier going without the heat of the sun, be able to pick up the pace a bit," he explained. Xander frowned. "Ride all night?" Spike nodded. "Don't worry, moon's very bright out here just stick with me," he assured. By the early hours everyone was asleep in their saddles swaying and lurching along, except Spike he was awake and looking up at the horsemen gathered on a rocky outcrop above them, the same horsemen who'd watched as he staggered from Hamunaptra. He checked his rifle.
Xander leaned further and further out of the saddle, Spike brought his camel closer and Xander fell against him, head on his shoulder, Spike smiled. Wes jerked awake woken by Snyder's snoring, he gave him a slap to wake him up, he grumbled incoherently. Wes looked ahead and saw Xander lent against Spike and sighed, shook his head, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep again. The camels plodded along.
Towards dawn Xander began to stir, gently Spike pushed him upright in his saddle, he awoke blinking. "Spike nodded. "Morning, won't be long now." Xander yawned and frowned. "Long?"
Just before dawn they rode along the top of a tall sand dune. As they rode they saw camels, horses and mules coming toward them. Spike sighed. "Oz." They met in the middle and Oz grinned. "Good morning gentlemen." Spike nodded. Behind Oz, Wells spoke up. "Why we stopped here?"
"Patience my good friend, you'll see." Oz replied. "Hey Barstow, don't forget our wager," Mears smirked. "and a hundred in it for you Oz if we make it." Oz grinned and nodded. The suited gentlemen with the glasses and fez rode up on a mule and unfolded a black umbrella and held it over his head, Spike frowned and leaned toward Xander and whispered. "Know who the Hell he is?" Xander nodded. "That's Rupert Giles a British Egyptologist, he settled in Egypt about ten years ago, his speciality is The Old Kingdom. He's been in the museum a few times," he whispered. Spike nodded. "Hey Barstow," Oz smirked. "Nice camel." Spike patted it's neck. "So is yours Oz." Oz huffed.
They faced the East and watched as the sun rose. "What's going to happen?" Xander whispered. Spike nodded toward the desert. "We're about to be shown the way." The sand shifted and shimmied, the sun rose higher, buildings seemed to rise up from the sand. Levenson's jaw dropped. "Hamunaptra." He whispered reverently.
Spike sighed. "Here we go again."