Author's Note: So I wrote the original incarnation (called Empty Alibi) of this a while ago, re-read it, and sort of cringed. I feel like this could be done considerably better, without the perspect of a rando-OC. The story is still basically the same, but I think it's written better now.

Disclaimer: The characters of The Mummy are the property of Universal Studios.

Tattoos

"So what's with the tattoo?"

She was more interested in the tall, handsome one, but she could tell by the way his weaselly little companion was hanging around that she'd have a customer readily enough if the American should turn her down in favor of someone prettier. Or free. He said his name was O'Connell, and he had those lost, sleepy kind of blue eyes that could charm him into bed with a lonely tourist, if he let them work their magic.

But she wasn't looking at his eyes. She was looking at the strange black mark on his hand.

He glanced down at it and shrugged, bringing his cup of bourbon to his lips.

"Ah, nothing," he said, a little awkwardly.

She frowned, leaning a little closer. She watched him out of the corner of her eye to see if he stole a glance down her diving neckline. He was preoccupied with his drink, but she wasn't one to miss his eyes flitting discreetly downward before returning back up again. His friend was eyeing her cleavage greedily, his gaze and licked lips unabashed. That one said his name was Beni. She glanced up at him and winked.

"What about you? Have you got any tattoos?"

He smirked. "Come to bed with me and find out."

She forced a giggle and reached around O'Connell to swat him. "Now you're no fun at all."

"I am plenty of fun," he retorted, his face spread with a greasy grin. She sighed, tsking him half-heartedly and batting her eyelashes a few times before turning her attention back to O'Connell.

"Did you get it here in Cairo?"

O'Connell looked confused. "What?"

She giggled and nudged him with her elbow. "Your tattoo, silly! It's an Eye of Horus."

His brow furrowed. "How do you know that?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "You know, screwing isn't the only thing I do around here."

O'Connell cleared his throat awkwardly while Beni snickered. She reached over and grabbed his wrist, turning it over to look at the tattoo again.

"You see these all over the place. You know, to protect against the Evil Eye - or, wait, maybe this is the Evil Eye..." She giggled. "Damned if I know!"

O'Connell gently pulled his hand out of her grasp. She frowned at him, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention to her. She glanced up at Beni, who was still eagerly eyeing her neckline.

"So you're not going to tell me if you have any?"

Beni scoffed, lifting a glass of vodka to his lips. "If you want to see what's on my body so bad, stop being a tease."

She let out a little snort, mustering up her best coquettish grin. She was having a hard time balancing between O'Connell's general disinterest and Beni's blunt interest in only sex. She gave him a flirtacious wink.

"I bet you have one. A big old dragon, right across your chest."

Beni snorted loudly. "Who would be stupid enough to do that?"

She shrugged. "I met a guy who had one once. He said he got it in China." Her eyes flitted to O'Connell. "Where'd you get yours?"

He glanced over at her and sighed. "Umm, they just slapped it on me when I got to the orphanage here in Cairo."

"Really?" Beni's incredulous scoff seemed to shake O'Connell out of his boredom. His eyes jerked up, and he kind of glared at the smaller man.

"Yeah," he said, a little testy.

She frowned thoughtfully, considering the question Beni had raised in her mind. "It does seem odd for an orphanage to tattoo a child..."

Rick's body tightened, and he shrugged stiffly. "Well they tattooed me."

"Did they do it to all of the kids?" she asked. Beni let out a loud snort.

"Oh, come on," he said in a whiny, know-it-all sing-song. "That is not what happened at all."

Rick let out a grumbling sigh. "Well, it's going to take more than this drink to get that story out of me."

She gave him a little wink and wound her arm about his shoulders. "Well, honey, I'll do anything you like."

Rick chuckled in something like embarrassment. "I was really just talking about another drink..."

She sighed and glanced at Beni. "Want to go in with me on a drink?"

"Nope," Beni muttered. She shot him a look.

"Well, why not? Don't you want to hear his tattoo story?"

His shoulders rose and fell. "I never cared enough to ask him about it before."

She let out a long sigh. "Well, you know, I might be able to do a thing or two for you - "

"Oh, God, alright," O'Connell exclaimed suddenly, glancing between the two of them. "Jeeze, you don't have to go and do that over it."

"But, O'Connell," Beni whined. "I wanted to hear her offer - "

She gave him a devilish grin, even though his undressing eyes made her a little nervous. She forced a little laugh and turned her attention back to O'Connell, giving him a nudge.

"So what's the story, soldier?"

He took a deep breath, staring at his hands for a moment before glancing up at her with his deep, earnest eyes. The unreadable emotion in them made her gasp a little, and took the mask of a smile off of her face.

"You can't laugh," he whispered. And she shook her head.

O'Connell sighed, took another sip of his bourbon, and began. Despite the bustle and noise of the late-night bar, his calm, melodic voice was the only thing she could hear as he told the story of the tattoo:

"When ... when I was little, I got separated from my mom in the market place. And this shrouded person took my hand, and I just ... trusted him. I don't know. I think I thought he was one of the women from the tenement we were in. But he took me to the back of one of the stands, and he gave me this drink ... it calmed me down. I stopped crying. And it was like I knew I was never going to see my mom again, but it was okay ... like I had some kind of ... I don't know, higher calling. Something more important. I felt ... bigger than myself, you know? And ... the next thing I knew, I was in the orphanage, and I had this tattoo."

She stared at him in the silence, something between fear and reverence stirring in her heart. She'd met all types in this job. Seen all times. Known all types. And she knew the ones that had something more important about them. This American Legionnaire was one of them. She felt something odd between the two of them, as if he'd never told that story before. And she wanted to reach out and take his hand, but she was too nervous.

He glanced away from her in the silence, awkwardly clearing his throat and lifting his drink to his lips again.

"And...that's the story," he said, his voice strained and uncomfortable.

She shook her head and whispered, "That really is something."

"Oh, come on, really?"

But Beni's scoff broke the strange quiet between them, and the noise of the bar flooded back, and reality flooded back. And she was just another prostitute, trying to snag a customer for the night. She shot Beni a look.

"Now what's your problem?"

He ignored her, his beady eyes dancing at O'Connell mockingly. "That really happened?"

"Yeah," he said, shooting Beni a look.

Beni actually started snickering, finding it hard to contain his greasy grin even as he took a sip of his drink. O'Connell scowled at him.

"You know," Beni managed around wheezing chortles, "I hope that cross-dressing shroud guy did not sodomize you in your sleep, O'Connell."

Despite herself and the strange magic of the earlier moment when he was telling the story, she couldn't quite contain a little chuckle at Beni's comment. She quickly tried to bite it back, but it was too late. The American gave him a terse, sarcastic smile and then smacked him hard upside his head. He looked between the two of them with thinly-masked betrayal, and pulled himself from the barstool.

"You two have a good night."

Her eyes widened, and she quickly turned around in her seat as he started off.

"O'Connell, wait - I'm sorry - "

He waved a hand but didn't turn back to look at her, striding off across the bar, towards the door. She let out a sigh, feeling Beni's sleazy gaze on her. She steeled herself and turned to look at him.

"Are you lonely tonight?" she asked half-heartedly.

Beni snorted, taking another sip of his vodka. "I do not have any tattoos."

She frowned at this change of subject, but nodded quickly. "Me either. I don't like needles."

"I do not like permanent things," he said, finishing his drink. A smug smile spread across his face as humor lit up his eyes. "And I also never followed strange men into tents and drank drugged drinks."

She snorted, putting on her best smile and reaching over to run her fingers over his arm.

"I'm not permanent, you know."

She watched a greasy grin crawl up the side of his face. "Oh, I know. Why else do you think I am having you instead of O'Connell?"

end