Night at the Museum

"Ah, c'mon now, Jeannie," he said.  "This is the sort of offer you're never gonna get again."  He leaned back and looked around at the artifacts in her office.

"But I guess if mouldy old Egyptian gods and creepy looking birds are more your thing..."



"Hank..." Jean Grey replied looking at him uncertainly.  "That is you, right?"



"Yeah, it's me Jeannie.  What, you don't like this look?"



"You're so...  blue," she stuttered, "... and... and furry."



She looked over at the blonde woman sitting next to him.  She was dressed like a ninja, or some such other thing straight out of an eighties video game.  The woman had cold, hard eyes.  Eyes that had been boring into her since they'd dropped in unannounced.



"How did you even get in here?"



"Well, for starters, we didn't come in through the front doors.  At midnight, the front doors ain't even open, are they?"



"No, but I work late all the time.  I know there are security measures.  What about the guards? They're all over the place once the doors shut for the night. And the alarm systems..."



The blonde woman laughed out loud.



"High school dropouts?  Motion sensors?  In this day and age?"



Jean couldn't place the woman's accent, but she could certainly place her sarcasm.



"Now, now, Raven, be nice" Hank said to the woman fondly.  "Jeannie's an old friend.  No need to be harsh.  Plus, we're askin her to join up with this thing of ours. We wanna make a good impression."



"I'm a scientist, Hank,"  she said quietly.  "Not... not whatever you are.  Just a scientist."



"That doesn't sound like a yes."



Jean reached under her desk and got hold of the pipe wrench she'd left after fixing the bathroom sink this morning.



"What if it's a no?"



"How dare you!" the woman hissed, reaching for something inside the folds of her ninja-gi.  Hank put a massive hand over hers, stopping the woman from drawing the death ray or whatever it was Jean imagined might be concealed in that ridiculous getup.

"Are you threatening me?" Jean growled in response.  She pushed herself away from the desk and jumped up, brandishing the large wrench over her head menacingly with both hands.



"whoah, whoah, WHOAH!" Hank blurted out, holding his hands up in front of him. "No need for any rough stuff, tiger.  'Just a scientist,' huh?" he said with some amusement, popping up from his seat and forcefully helping his sidekick across the room toward the window.  "Okay, well, time to go.  Yep, time to go.  So anyway, think about it Jeannie. We need someone with your expertise.  For all the crazy stuff that's coming in the future, I could really use the help of someone with a keen mind for the events of the past. You don't have to make your mind up tonight.  The offer stands until you do say yes... or no."



He slid the glass open to the chill, December night.  At his prompting, the woman named Raven climbed up onto the sill first.  With a last, menacing glare back at the red haired archaeologist, she slipped over the edge and dropped from sight.



"You probably don't want to tell anybody about our visit," he said offhandedly, hopping up onto the broad sill.  "I don't think anyone would believe you.  But even if they did, well, they won't find me.  Plus I'd be really disappointed.  We've been friends for so long, afterall."



"By the way, what is that thing over there?"



"What?  Where?"



"That. Over there.  The metal-magma slab hanging on the wall with the weird writing on it."



"That?  It's a bas-relief.  It was found in an early Mycanaean tomb, along with a matching altar stone."



"So it's Greek?"



"Mycenaean.  But no, it's not Mycenaean.  Or Greek.  It's something... older.  My guess is it's Lemurian."



"Interesting."  he said, preparing himself to follow Raven out into the night.  "And here I thought Lemuria was just a myth.  Like Atlantis."



"Well, until last week at the U.N., Atlantis was just a myth."



"Touché," he granted, then parted ways with a final "I'll be in touch," and then he, too, dropped from sight.

With that, Jean Grey was once again alone in her museum office.  She rushed to the window and slammed it closed, locking it in the faint hope that it would somehow keep out anymore visitors.



She looked out wistfully at the clear, night sky.  The moon was very nearly full, and its pale radiance held her gaze for a very long time.



With a sudden, puzzled expression, she looked down and realized she was still clutching the heavy steel wrench.  During the earlier excitement, she had managed to crush it into uselessness.  Neither she, nor her unexpected visitors, had noticed.



"Oops," she mumbled to herself, tossing it casually aside.



Oh well, she thought to herself.  Back to work.  There's still so much that needs




(published December 26, 2015)