Indiana Jones and the Daring Daughter

A fan slowly spun in the ceiling, stirring the air in the dusty ward. A small window cut out into the wall let in the noonday sun, casting light down onto a table, where a set of clothes (several tears on the fabric stitched closed with fresh thread), socks, shoes, a cloth bag, and a fedora sat. A coiled bullwhip sat in the midst of it all, still attached to a leather belt with its buckle closed.

An elderly woman swept the floor, the scraping of the straw brush at the end of her broom stimulating the ears. She brushed the dirt away from the foot of a metal bedframe, where a young man lay comatose. Stitches closed several parts of his skin. Moist rags covered his forehead and were draped around his neck. Fresh bandages were wrapped around his right forearm and his hand. He wore a simple gown.

The young man stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Weak and barely conscious, he parted his cracked, dry lips and begged for water. The cleaner, looking over towards him, gasped in shock, running out the door to get help.

"Hello. My name is Irina," a woman, face wrinkled and clothed fully in a nun's getup, said as she entered the room, "Sorry. We aren't used to dealing with such a... compound patient out here. The occasional case of malaria or dengue, sure. Not... cuts, scars, starvation, herniated back..."

Indiana shifted his weight against the pillow holding his back up, still lying on the bed, "You still saved my life," he said, breathlessly, "I thought I was a goner, even before I decided to try and fly that plane."

Irina patted Indiana's arm, "I'm sorry. Your plane sank into the sea shortly after the local fishermen saved you."

"It's fine," Indiana waved the same arm dismissively, "Wasn't mine anyway."

Irina's expression changed slightly as she dragged a nearby chair over to Indiana's bedside, resting her weary bones on it, "You certainly had some unexpected cargo. We managed to rescue a very strange animal as well..."

Indiana's head thumped back against the pillows as he furrowed his brow, "...I thought that must have been a fever dream. It was real?"

"If you dreamt of a small, gold colored equine with a black and grey mane..." Irina nodded as another nun walked into the room, carrying a bowl of soup, "Then it was no dream. Are you a zoologist of some kind, Mr...?"

"Jones. Indiana Jones," Indiana watched as the younger nun offered the bowl of soup towards him. He raised his arms, they were stiff but at least had energy to draw from, and clasped the edges of the soup bowl. He nodded his thanks, before turning back to Irina, "And no. I'm just... I'm just a hunter."

It wasn't technically a lie, and Irina seemed unwilling to question either way, "We have taken care of her. She was very hungry. We didn't know what to feed her. We tried some baby formula, and she seemed to take to it."

"She?" Indiana frowns. He supposed he never really checked in all the panic...

"Yes. She. Once she stopped crying, she warmed up quite well I think. She's not like any animal I've ever seen. Even the domesticated monkeys or foals act more erratically. If it weren't for her appearance, she might be mistaken for a human baby," Irina watched as Indiana carefully raised the soup spoon to his mouth.

Savoring the nutrition, Indiana thought for a moment, "...I have to take it- er, her, back to America. She's an undiscovered species that I found in the jungle. I couldn't find her mother or anything. I wouldn't want such an interesting... specimen to go to waste before scientists could get their hands onto her."

Irina sighed, "A shame. I know many of my number would love to keep her here. She has been quite the joy so far."

Indiana scratched the back of his neck, a slight pang of guilt going through him as he reached for another spoonful of soup, "...Hey. You've been more than kind here. The... scientific community. They'll pay me well, and the least I could do is compensate you with a donation. How much did it cost to patch me up?"

Irina folded her hands and shook her head, "The convent and mission hospital will appreciate the donation, no doubt. But, for us, money and material is far from the first object. For that, I shouldn't be... giving you a bill, so to say."

"Well, whatever you say," Indiana quickly danced around the subject. If they wanted to be altruistic and let him keep whatever wealth he could recover from this rotten expedition, they were welcome to it. He raised the soup bowl to his lips, drinking the rest of the warm liquid within. After swallowing, he broke the silence, "How long was I out, by the way? Last thing I remember was crashing the plane."

"You writhed in pain for two days with high fever and incredible pain, be glad you do not remember it. Then, malaria put you into a coma for four days. Thank God it was not more, Mr. Jones. I would fear for your mind in that case," Irina warned.

Irina guided Indiana Jones out into the courtyard of the convent. He was in the city of Christo Solo, on the eastern shore of Panama. The Canal wasn't that much farther. From there, he could get a boat back to Chicago, his live cargo safely in tow.

Speaking of it, Indiana's eyes locked onto a group of nuns tending to a garden in the green patch at the center of the courtyard. One of the sisters held a small, golden and grey bundle that Indiana immediately recognized. The creature was wearing a white, cloth diaper, and was cuddled up into the grip of the nun and sleeping peacefully.

"Christ-" Indiana started, but bit his tongue as Irina gave him a dirty look, "Sorry. I mean: Gosh, you really are treating it like a human baby."

The nun holding the animal turned towards Indiana at the sound of his voice, "Oh. It's good to see you awake and well, Mr..."

"Jones. Indiana Jones," he responded examining the child. Fortunately, no lasting damage seemed to have been done by its various tumbles and knocking around during his romp in the jungle, "Good to see it isn't hurt. We had quite a rough time in the jungle together."

The nun frowned as the child stirred from sleep, "She's nothing like any animal we've seen in this country before, Mr. Jones. She's got shockingly human-like eyes."

Indiana's eyes drifted over to the other sisters as one of them giggled. He heard a whisper from one of them in Spanish. Fortunately, he was no stranger to the language, not after the Mexico, "What's so funny about my name?" he growled at them.

The sister closest to him put her palm on her chest in shock, before shaking her head, "Forgiveness, please sir. It's just- Indiana is the name of one of your states, no?"

Indiana gave an annoyed frown, "I once met a man with the last name of York."

"You're completely right, sir! Forgive us!" the nun said, suppressing another bout of giggles as the group picked up their equipment and began to move on.

Thoroughly annoyed at his name being poked at, Indiana adjusted his hat, "Hey. Listen. I need to get on the first ship back to the States. I'd love to stay here longer, but I don't want to burden you."

The nun holding the creature frowned, looking at Irina pensively. Irina, in return, simply frowned before turning towards Indiana, "Are you entirely sure you still wish to care for this child? We understand it may not be human, and that you found it. However, we are able and willing to take care of her here if you feel hesitancy in your conscience."

Indiana frowned, looking at the infant, before back at Irina and the other woman, "What are you trying to imply here?" he crossed his arms.

"When you brought her here, she was badly hurt and starving to death. We mean nothing against you, but my sisters would want the assurance that you can properly take care of her," Irina intoned, her aged features betraying no particular emotion, though it wasn't hard for the man to catch the implication of her words.

Indiana reached up, scratching his head and causing his fedora to bounce slightly with the motions of his fingers, "Hey. Lady, no offense, but you don't know what I had to go through to get both of us back to civilization alive."

"Of course," Irina nodded again, sighing as she folded her arms, "We meant no offense. And: we will not deprive you of your... property."

Irina gestured towards the nun holding the animal. The infant, which had stirred itself awake at this point, looked curiously around until its eyes met Indiana once again. Nervously, its giant, expressive eyes stared up at Indiana, and it squirmed as the woman held her out to him.

With a nod and an attempt at a sympathetic smile, Indiana Jones took the child. Unsteadily, he attempted to mimic how the nun held her, shifting around his arms multiple times. The child, however, squirmed, holding its hooves out towards the woman. The nun let a tear run down her cheek as she reached out, helping to guide Indiana's hands to properly hold her.

"Here. Let me get you some of the supplies we used to keep her fed and some spare diapers," the woman said, her voice cracking slightly as she briskly walked away, leading Indiana towards a door on the left side of the courtyard.

Indiana opened his mouth to say something. An apology, maybe, or perhaps some sort of comfort to the people who had been kind enough to keep his quarry alive along with himself. However, the words simply could not be found, and he lowered his head as he simply grunted an affirmative and followed her.

Rummaging through a cupboard in a kitchen, the woman provided Indiana with several cans of a formula that required nothing but heated water, a good stir, and a bottle to complete. He was also given a bundle of cloth, meant to be used as diapers, and a bottle with a rubber nipple on the top. She made extra sure that Indiana knew he was to pay special attention to the cleaning of the bottle.

Not wanting to offend his benefactors any more than he already had, Indiana took the supplies graciously. He hadn't the money to repay them and afford the journey home, so he simply kept his mouth shut and made sure to say his pleases and thank yous.

Finally, around mid-afternoon, Indiana Jones walked from the gate of the religious compound, waving the two women at the gate goodbye. The child squirmed in his arms to lift herself over her shoulder and stare at them as he walked away. As soon as she seemingly realized what was going on, the crying instantly began again.

Indiana grimaced, quickening his pace and lowering his gaze once again. He didn't want to see the look on their faces.

After some haggling and bargaining, Indiana Jones negotiated his means of travel. A steamer called the "Safe Travels" would take him to the United States, in return for hard work in the ship's boiler room. He'd be payed a below-usual rate for the passage, but would be given quarters and gruel. The ship would make two stops, in Florida then New York. He hoped that by New York, he would have enough cash to buy a ticket back to Chicago.

The animal had, fortunately, stopped crying and went back to sobbing... and then eventually sleeping by the time Indiana walked to the docks. He realized he had no solid plan on how to take care of the infant while working - as the ship's engine room was no place for a child. With grim determination, he decided he just had to make something work, as he had very little choice if he wanted to bring home any amount of pay.

The baby woke up and began to cry once again as Indiana entered the cabins of the ship. He patted the cans knocking around in his now-heavy bag, "You'll get your bite to eat soon, don't worry."

The smell of oil and coal was thick in the air. Occasionally, Indiana coughed to expel the foul pollutants in the air. The first mate had directed him to a bunkroom on the starboard side of the for'ard middle deck. Fortunately for Indiana, this was far from his first time aboard a steamship - even a pretty grotty one. However, for the child wriggling around in his arms, the new sights, loud sounds of the engines, and the overwhelming stenches seemed to only agitate her.

Indiana felt bad. For the first time, he seriously considered whether or not he should have just cut his losses and left her back at the convent.

The bulkhead leading into the bunkroom he was headed for was open. Several other men sat on the bunks in the room. Some were napping, others were sitting around and smoking, filling the room with acrid smoke to mix in with the burning smell of coal.

Already, Indiana felt out of place - being a fairly wiry guy, recently recovered from malaria and still feeling weak, with a long mop of hair. He sought to go to the only empty bunk in the room, to rest his legs and take stock of his few possessions, yet quickly the squirming, crying bundle in his hands woke every single sleeping eye in the room.

A beefy bald African man in a tanktop, sitting on the bottom bunk at the back of the cabin, removed a cigarette from his mouth, "Well. Mr. Skimpy carrying around a crying rat-horse wasn't how I thought I'd start my day."

Indiana Jones gave a weak chuckle as he entered the room, eyes setting on his bunk. The mattress was thin and stained. He could see the bars of the bedframe sticking through the thin material. Beggars couldn't be choosers, he supposed. He walked over, giving awkward glances to the other men as he walked by.

He took off his hat, setting it on the paper thin mattress as he sat down, the metal frame squeaking a bit under his weight. The resident of the top bunk, a lithe white man with a scraggly moustache and leaned over to watch him sit. In his right hand, he held a book. He looked at Indiana strangely as the latter unpacked his bag, "Vhat is that thing?"

Indiana Jones paused as he held the can in his hand, realizing he didn't have warm water. He looked up at the man, whose accent he recognized intimately, "Uh. It's an animal. I'm trying to get her back to America so that I can get her... studied by the college I go to."

"College boy, huh?" the African man said from his bed, extinguishing his cigarette as he reached into his pocket with his other hand, "That's not an animal. That's some kinda freaky voodoo baby, Skimpy," he kept his eye on them as he lit another smoke.

Delicately, he placed the child on the bed and stood up, bumping his head painfully on the top bunk as he did so. Clutching the back of his head, where the metal frame had bruised him, he hissed, "Is there somewhere I can get warm water? I have to mix something for her to eat."

Shrugging, the African man stood up and gestured for him to follow as he walked towards the door. Indiana gladly followed ducking through the hatch behind him as they walked down the hallway. He took a right, going up a stairwell to the upper deck as he stubbed out his cigarette.

As they ascended another flight of stairs to the weather deck, he spoke up, "Name's Richard. Call me Rich. You from the States?"

"Jones. Indiana Jones. Yeah, I am. New Jersey originally, then Utah, but Chicago now," Indiana said, disappointed with his lack of stamina from his week of languishing as he breathed heavily trying to keep up with the huge man's long strides. Behind them, land was slowly pulling away as another team of sailors worked around the deck.

"Florida," Rich nodded as he threw his cigarette over the side, "Come. Canteen's over here. I needed to grab a drink anyway," he gestured him through a hatch.

Indiana ducked through the hatch behind him. Several mess tables were laid around the room, with a door into the pantry behind it. A counter with a few basic supplies sat around, including a sink and a kettle. Twisting a knob on a stove, he lit it and gestured Indiana towards the kettle, "I'm the cook's assistant. When I'm not helping him with the meals, I'm usually cleaning. Not a lot of good-looking real estate around this tub, but I'll be damned before this place turns into a roach-infested shithole like every other kitchen on these cargo hoppers."

Indiana looked around as he filled the kettle with water. He had to admit, Rich was right. Compared to the rest of the ship, where gunk was caked in the corners and the smell of grease and sweat was omnipresent, the air felt pretty fresh in this compartment, "You seem to do a good job about it. Been here for a while then?" he asked as he squeezed the faucet shut.

Rich stepped back to allow Indiana to place the kettle on the stove, before walking over to the sink himself and filling a mug, "Longer than the actual cook, that's for sure. Been here almost as long as the Captain has."

Leaning on the counter, Indiana hummed, "Why're you just an assistant then? Can't you cook?"

Indiana tensed as he saw Rich's expression change for the moodier. He had no idea what it would be like to be trounced by a man a good head taller than him, and he opened his mouth to apologize. However, before he could, the hulking cook's assistant drank a sip of water and just shook his head, "I can cook. The other guys know not to ask shit like that from me, but you don't, else I'd thump you on that counter right now."

"Sorry, sorry," Indiana held up his hands defensively.

"Cook's a position with actual power. Officers don't want people like me with power," he slugged back the rest of the water, before placing it back under the faucet, "They say it's cause I got a record. That's a long time in the past, I say, I finished high school, got educated, got a proper job here. Never stolen anything from them, never been dishonest. Never been an incident in the kitchen while I've been in charge in lieu of the cook. Still no."

Indiana placed his hands back on his hips, frowning, "Saw the same kinda shit during the war, man. Plenty of good men like you in the army. None of them officers."

Rich took another drink, "You're a vet?"

Indiana nodded slowly, "Volunteered for the Belgian Army in '16. Got the pleasure of fighting over the Somme."

A smile slowly formed on Rich's face as he took another sip, before dumping out the rest of the water and turning around to clean the cup, "Shit. That's hard tacks, man. How'd a twig like you survive the war?"

Indiana chuckled, folding his arms and saying, "I'm... not a stranger to fights. But, the war was more just... endurance. It was a test of just how many diseases and infections you could ward off and survive."

The kettle whistled, and Rich placed the cup back on the shelf before reaching over and cutting off the gas to the stove. Retracting his hand from the cupboard, he held it out towards Indiana, "Skimpy, you're someone I think's worthwhile. Let's not be strangers in the time we're together."

Indiana took the hand, nodding as he shook it. Rich seemed nice enough as well, and he knew better than to anger someone with a hand in preparing his meals, "Sure thing."

Shaking the warm bottle of milk formula, Rich followed closely behind Indiana as they walked back to the bunkroom. Indiana grew more and more concerned as the sounds of crying he was so used to were completely absent.

As he ducked through the hatch, Indiana's eyes locked onto his bunk. Most of the men in the room were crowded around the bunk, with the infant sitting upright on the bed. One of the men, a middle aged latino man, covered his eyes, before opening them again with a shouted, "Peekaboo!"

The animal giggled as soon as the man revealed his face, causing smiles all around as the joyous babbling filled the room. The only thing to rival it was the chuckles and grins from the men as the man covered his face again, causing the baby to assume the most astounded stare at the man's hiding face.

"Peekaboo!" he shouted as he opened his hands again. The giggles filled the room again, causing even Indiana to smile as he walked over.

"Are we hungry?" Indiana asked as he stopped at the ring of sailors, shaking the baby bottle one more time. As the men parted and Indiana went to sit down on the bunk, the baby's eyes locked onto him as he proffered the bottle.

The infant reached out its forelegs towards it as he picked her up and stuck the bottle towards its muzzle. Quickly, instinctively, the infant latched onto the rubber tip and began to suck.

"What's her name?" the man from the topbunk asked.

Indiana shrugged, "Uhh... no name. I found her a week ago, and for most of that week I was being treated for malaria."

The animal's eyes wandered around the room looking at the men as she sucked down the formula. She only squirmed when Indiana adjusted his arms to hold her more comfortably.

"Gotta have a name," the man who was playing peekaboo from earlier said, "What're you gonna name her?"

Indiana paused. It was true. Even animals had names. He couldn't just keep calling it "the animal". The more he deliberated, the more his messmate's eyes bored into him. Eventually, he went with the first thing that crossed his mind. Looking back down at the child, making eye contact with her as she suckled down on his bottle, he said, "Anna. It was my mother's name."

Muttered agreements came from the men as Indiana began to slowly rock back and forth, the springs squeaking underneath him. One by one, the men around him offered their greetings. Most of the crew in his room were firemen, working the ship's boilers who switched off onto working around the topdeck halfway through their "Watch" to get them away from the heat and coal dust. A few were apprentice engineers, and the man sharing Indiana's bunk, named Jean, was surgeon's mate.

And now Indiana was a fireman too. He had two fewer hours than the rest, since the ship already had enough crew to work the ship's engines at full capacity and because any more hours and Indiana might've started 'deserving' more pay than he was getting. He was fine, though. He expected that the rest of his time was probably going to be spent recovering from his recent bout with illness and tending to Anna.

Indiana didn't notice that Rich hadn't followed him into the room until the man himself ducked through the hatch, carrying a set of bedsheets with him, "Hey!" he barked to the room, "May I remind you all that we got six hours to our watch?"

The men scrambled away to their bunks, no doubt dreading the idea of missing out on too much rest. indiana removed the nipple from Anna's mouth, the child having fallen asleep in his arms shortly after the bottle was emptied. Crouching by Indiana's bedside, Rich unlimbered the bedsheets, tucking one side of the sheet into the frame of the bunk above him and tying it off in a knot. He tucked the other side in as well, tying it off securely until a tiny hammock hung from the bunk above Indiana.

"So you don't roll on top of her and suffocate her in your sleep," Rich pushed the hammock with a finger, "Get some shuteye, and don't make any noise."

Indiana nodded, "Thanks," he whispered as he carefully took the sleeping foal and tucked her inside the hollow of the makeshift hammock. Rich stalked off to his own bunk, climbing to the top and letting out a sigh as he laid down. Indiana followed his example soon afterwards on his own bunk, taking his hat and draping it over his eyes as he shut his eyes.

The newly-named Anna slept softly in the hammock above him. He relaxed. Maybe taking care of her over the journey wasn't going to be that hard after all.

Indiana sat outside the doorway to the companionway to the lower decks, eyes bloodshot as he patted Anna on the back as she bawled passionately into his shoulder. As soon as the foal started crying not an hour after Indiana drifted off, he had been promptly ejected from the sleeping quarters to not disturb the rest of his watch. For the next five hours he had made unsteady, zombie-like patrols from the weather deck to the kitchen, trying to satisfy whatever this child's needs were.

He had changed her diaper. Fed her. She seemed to require assistance burping like human children, which he did. He changed her again. Fed her. Realized he was out of diapers and didn't know where a place to clean clothing was. Had to clean the soiled diaper out by hand in the kitchen sink. Dried it using the stove. Nearly burned the diaper...

She had dependably fallen asleep for thirty minute periods, before starting right back up again. The first time she had done so, Indiana snuck back down to the bunkroom, hoping to salvage some of his resting period. However, almost as soon as he was back through the door and shutting his eyes, she started right back up again. After being sworn at by a few of his roommates, he had instead opted to pass out for the periods of rest under a table in the mess hall.

As he switched off the stove, taking the now only slightly damp diaper from the makeshift drying rack he'd rigged above it, Indiana patted Anna on the back one more time. His breath caught as slowly, mercifully, the screaming died down, followed by soft snoring.

Unable to even bring himself to take the diaper off the rack, Indiana dragged his feet towards the nearest mess table. Placing the child on the floor a safe distance away from himself, Indiana drew the blanket he had taken from his bunkroom and drew it over himself, ready to catch another few minutes of shuteye before it inevitably started all over again.

Just as he shut his eyes, he heard a voice from behind him, "Skimpy?"

He twitched, rolling over to see the figure of Rich standing in the hatchway, the first grey signs of light on the horizon behind him. He looked around, seeing the diaper rack and the child sleeping on the floor next to him.

"...The hell you been doing to my kitchen all night?" he growled, stomping forward.

Indiana mumbled, rubbing his sore eyes, "Won't go to sleep. Keeps crying."

Rich shook his head, "Joys of parenthood. Why the hell you using the kitchen to wash diapers?"

"Dunmno wher the laundry room is..." Indiana mumbled, eyelids heavy as the temptation to lay back down and commit to sleep nagged at him.

"Hell, man. I'll tell you at the end of the watch. Get up, the rest of the guys are waiting in the boiler room for you. You're on stoker duty first," Rich kicked Indiana softly as he walked by, "I talked to the Boatswain bout the kid. He says you can take twenty minutes every hour to come up and take care of her before getting right back to work, alright?"

"Mhm, sshhure..." Indiana shakily began to roll out from under the table.

"Take the kid with you," Rich pointed at Anna, "And try not to fall asleep on the job. You can take your four hours of R n' R to try and sleep it off. I'll bag your food for you when you wake up, okay?"

Indiana, despite the extreme fogginess on his mind, acknowledged the good favor, "Thanks a bunch... dunno what I'd do without you..." he reached down to the foal, the stiffness in his back coming back to haunt him as he could only slowly and cautiously bring himself up to standing position with the child.

With that, he walked from the room, only stopping to pick up the diaper Rich threw at him from the stove.

The next several days were cycles of almost pure torture for Indiana Jones. He had thought that barely subsisting, going days without food, being chased into the Panama rainforest was terrible. However, he believed he would rather be trying to carve out a living in the midst of the rainforest, fighting fever and predators, than being in his state.

Work aboard the steamship was hard and long. The "Breaks" he was given to go and take care of the child ended up being less breaks and just more work. He constantly had to quickly feed her, change her, put her to sleep, all in the span of only twenty minutes before hurrying back to his post. Even then, he was only being paid pennies and gruel in the mess hall.

He might've genuinely broken down into a fit of crying, rage, shouting, and the violent destruction of his surroundings if it weren't for the other sailors. Despite their rough exterior, odor, and foul language, they stepped in to support Indiana where he couldn't do it himself. More than once, they kept Anna entertained with their own time while Indiana got the opportunity to pass out.

Rich was particularly helpful. Keeping Anna on a chair in the mess, he made sure she didn't hurt herself while he and Indiana worked their separate stations. Jean, Indiana's bunkmate, even straight up took her off his hands a few times to take care of her. He apparently commonly helped his widowed sister before being conscripted into the French army (they shared a connection over the War, although Indiana rarely got to talk about it between sleeping and working). He believed Anna had "Colic", causing her predictable bouts of abdominal pain. He was told that it was nothing to worry about, as it cleared up with age.

Indiana had pointed out that colic was something human babies had. For all they knew, she was about to shed her skin and explode into some sort of giant spider monster. Jean simply laughed him off and said that, if it happened, writing about it would make him rich enough to leave the sailing business behind.

He still couldn't wait to get rid of her in Chicago, though. He was going to sleep much better in an bed he owned, in a house he owned - which was exactly what he'd buy with all the money he was going to get. Dreaming about counting hundred dollar bills was a common occurrence.

The tenth day of the journey came with it a rare reprieve. Indiana Jones woke up after a restful sleep to the sound of silence, only the snoring of the other men. The young man uncurled from his bed, looking into the hammock strung above his bunk. The child was still there, sleeping, and didn't seem to be dead or anything.

Relieved, Indiana carefully stalked out of the room, heading topside for some fresh air from the weather deck and a drink of water from the mess. As he entered the mess, he saw the dark figure of Rich standing at the back of the mess, shrouded in darkness.

"...Hey," Indiana intoned as he walked over, "Up early?"

"Couldn't sleep," Rich nodded, before looking Indiana up and down, "Anna alright?"

"She's fine," Indiana nodded, "Just wanted some water and a moment to relax before she starts up again."

Rich filled a mug of water for him, passing it over, "Yeah. Hard, isn't it?"

Indiana simply huffed in response, taking a sip of water too soothe his parched, dusty throat.

Rich watched as he slowly emptied his mug, before continuing, "Had my own kid once. A little girl. Name was Katie. With a 'K'."

Indiana narrowed his eyes as he took the final sip of water from the cup, "She's not my kid. I plan on handing her off as soon as I reach Chicago."

A disappointed frown spread across Rich's face, "To the scientists, eh?"

Indiana sighed turning to face the larger man. It was about time he came clean, "I'm... I never really planned to give her to scientists, Rich. I plan to give her to whatever zoo will pay me the most for her."

"Just in it for the money?" Rich deflated slightly, placing his hands on his hips.

"Fortune and glory," Indiana replied, "Fortune... and glory. I'm sure they'll study her and give her the proper care she needs."

Indiana tried to back up as Rich made a sudden advance towards him. His fist clenched as he raised an arm towards him, but he held back from violence just long enough for Rich to extend a finger and simply poke him in the chest, "Skimpy. I don't care what you think. Animal or not, that's a baby right there. You are her entire world, Indiana Jones. You can't tell me you don't see that in her eyes every time you pick her up."

Indiana backed away from his poking finger, crossing his arms, "You don't know me, Rich. I'm no father. I'm just a guy trying to make his mark on the world, going out there and doing stuff rather than just reading about it."

Rich shook his head, calmly placing his right hand on Indiana's shoulder, "Katie was my entire world, Indiana. I made a stupid mistake. Now, she's got a bastard for a father and her mother is stuck raising her alone. I didn't realize how much she was to me until I lost her. I regret that day every single day of my life," he turned away, looking towards the ocean as it spread out in front of the windows of the mess, "Don't you make that same mistake. Do what you want, get her looked at by the scientists. But treat her as nothing less than the innocent little girl she is, okay? Promise me that, right now," Rich turned his eyes in a piercing glare towards Indiana.

Indiana rubbed his chin, averting his gaze away from Rich's blistering stare. Eventually, he nodded, "Listen. I got people at my college. I can get her properly studied. If she really isn't an animal... I promise I'll do what you say."

Rich's body hesitantly relaxed as he turned away from Indiana and back to the sea ahead of them, "We'll make a fueling and cargo stop in Miami before moving further up the coast. I'm waiting to see the shores of home this morning."

Indiana nodded slowly, rubbing the back of his head, "I plan on finding a real meal and maybe a bath with the money they'll give me for my work here."

"I know a few good places," Rich tapped his finger idly against the counter, "Tell you what. You book a hotel with two beds, and I'll buy you supper. We'll be back on the Travels by the next morning."

Indiana smiled and stuck out his hand, "Yeah. You got yourself a deal."