"Archaeology is all about context," Professor Abner Ravenwood said, drawing a circle around the word 'Context' on the chalkboard. Turning to his class, chalk still held between his thumb and index finger, the man projected his voice across the lecture hall, "Without context, relics are completely without meaning."

Forty or so students, arrayed across desks in an ascending, amphitheater-styled classroom all looked on, enraptured. The scribbling of pencils filled the air as students took detailed notes, marking down dates, the lecturer, and the introduction to the lecture. Indiana Jones, sitting all the way at the back of the class, eyelids heavy and hardly grasping the world, simply wrote the word 'context' at the top of his page. Ironically, he failed to add any of the word's namesake.

Ravenwood walked over to his desk, picking up a package, wrapped in cloth, that he had walked in with. Unwrapping it, he revealed a brilliant, obsidian arrowhead. Holding it up for the class, electrical lighting sparkling both off of its surface and his spectacles, the Professor asked, "This relic. What is it? We can tell by its composition that it may have an origin from a culture living near volcanic regions, but we have very little else. For all we know, it could be a cheap fake, with no historical significance whatsoever aside from perhaps relating to the exposure of its fabricator."

More notes were scribbled. Indy simply added the word 'arrowhead', hoping his future self would remember what he meant.

He lowered the arrowhead once again, "Let's, for example, assume we found this arrowhead in a riverbed. Perhaps, then, it may be assumed that the culture it belonged to used arrows for fishing? Perhaps there was an ancient battle site there, the river changing directions to cover it?" he wrote various scenarios down on the blackboard, branching out from the word 'context', the arrowhead still clutched in his off-hand, "What if we found it buried with a body? Perhaps the body was killed with the arrowhead, or perhaps the culture buried weaponry along with their people? To answer these questions, we have to assimilate more context. We have to get the opinions of geologists to learn how the site became what it is, examine native lore, find relationships between it and other pieces, perform a detailed examination of the dig site. The list goes on and on: This is what archaeology is."

Ravenwood stepped back from the chalkboard, examining his work as the sounds of notes being taken filled the air behind him, "More and more in this modern century, we are looking to studying in-situ, rather than extracting artefacts to foreign areas. Even if we may know the context in which it was discovered, moving an arrowhead like this may just eliminate the minute details that seem irrelevant to the untrained eye, but are more valuable to science and society than any gold doubloon or buried treasure."

"Well!" Ravenwood snapped a finger, approaching his board again and beginning to draw instructions, "Let's open our textbooks and look at some real examples of this..."

Indiana would have joined in as the sounds of covers hitting desks and papers being flipped filled the air. However, despite his best efforts, he was face-down in his textbook, snoring softly.

"Jones...?" a voice came softly, "Jones...?"

Indiana remembered something about needing to turn his textbook over as he slowly raised his head, a line of drool separating from his mouth and stretching between it and the surface below him. Before he could straighten up, a hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him, jerking his eyes open.

"Jones!" Ravenwood shouted sternly, brows curled and lips turned into a frown, "What's the matter with you, boy!?"

"Huh...?" Indiana blinked, rubbing his eyes as he assessed his environment. The classroom was empty, and a cleaner was working across the stage to sweep up and take out the liner of a bin. Abner Ravenwood stood over him, a briefcase at his side and a stern look on his face.

"This is the fifth time I've caught you dozing off in class, boy. You were bright and attentive last year. What's going on now?" the elder man scolded, placing his hands on his hips.

"Sorry, teach, I just came back from Central America a few weeks ago and..." Indiana's brow wrinkled as he tried to find the best way to explain his predicament, "There's... uh, this animal I found while I was down there. I've needed to take care of it, and I've been losing a ton of sleep?"

Ravenwood tipped his head, looking over his spectacles at the young student, "An... animal?" he asked, dubious.

"Yeah it's like this..." Indiana made vague gestures with his hands, "...Horse-thing, with wings."

Surprisingly, though, Abner raised his nose again and nodded, "So that's what all the fuss is about on campus," he muttered, "I also heard there's a zoologist from Philadelphia doing research on it. I wasn't aware you were an animal handler, Mr. Jones."

"Yeah well, I..." Indiana ran a thumb across his jawline nervously, "I actually found it in a ruin, Professor. Somewhere in the Panama Rainforest. You know that clock you were talking about-?"

"Compass, Mr Jones, Compass," Ravenwood sighed, reaching up to massage the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah the compass. It was there, and it was real, and-"

"Mr Jones, this was your last lecture for the day, wasn't it?" interrupted Ravenwood, reaching into a pocket and taking out a watch. Turning it around, he showed the student the time.

The legs of Indiana's seat screeched as he kicked back from his desk, "Holy shit! I'm gonna be late for work!" he swore as he began to quickly shovel his textbooks into his satchel.

Reaching down to calmly assist Indiana with his packing, Ravenwood offered, "Mr Jones, would you like me to drive you?"

"Would ya?" asked Indiana looked up, buckling his satchel shut and shrugging it back on into proper position.

"Not a problem. Where do you need to be?" the professor asked, sliding Indy's chair back in behind him and gesturing for the student to follow as he made for the door.

"Colosimo's. It's a restaurant," Indy explained as he walked down the stairs behind him.

"I know the place," Ravenwood gave a slight nod, waving goodbye to the caretaker as they exited out into the main hall, "I live in Hyde Park. It's right along the way."

Navigating the streets of Chicago at rush hour while in an automobile was not an easy task, but Ravenwood seemed to be more than capable. Droves of pedestrians, dashing past lines of cars and trucks along with the occasional tram and railcar caused traffic to be stop and start across the city. Yet, at the very least, behind the panes of glass and the frame of the cabin, it was easy to sit and appreciate the bustle and energy of the city.

Indiana's eyes scanned across billboards, advertising the latest products and deals. Advertisements for the upcoming elections were in full swing. It would officially be the first time Indiana would be able to vote in his own country, as the previous election had been just before he came of age.

...Though, in all fairness, he had been fighting in the war at that time.

Ravenwood, following Indiana's eyes, noted, "I hear they're going to put woman suffrage in the Constitution now."

"You think it'll pass?" Indiana asked, turning his eyes away from the street and towards his teacher.

"I believe so," Ravenwood gave a single nod, "They already let women vote in a lot of states."

"I met a bunch of woman suffragettes in London, back before the war," Indiana muttered, eyes wandering out the window again.

Ravenwood gave a grunt of simple acknowledgement, before making a turn and stopping at a crossing. Reaching up to brush his moustache, he tapped a finger on the wheel. Glancing over to his student, he eventually asked, "If you're here, and about to go to work, who is taking care of your animal?"

"Babysitter," Indiana said, as if it was obvious. Quickly, though, he realized how not obvious it was as he cast a nervous glance towards Abner's raised eyebrow.

"A... babysitter?"

Ms. Helen Scraw stood, back against the wall, simply staring at what was going to be her charge for the next eight hours. The foal chewed on its own hoof, shaking around an old rattle as it sat upright in its wooden crib. Its greyscale tail twitched, and it babbled quietly to itself as it shook the rattle repeatedly.

The woman now understood why she had been paid so much more than the usual rate, and why her instructions had come with the foreboding addition: 'don't mind anna's odd looks. she's got similar needs to human baby'.

The kettle whistled, yet the babysitter didn't turn the stove off. Helen instead reached into her breast pocket, retrieving a small flask. Prohibition was going to prevent her from getting more whiskey later on, so she had planned to save drink until she was truly desperate.

She had suddenly decided she was truly desperate.

"...She has human-like needs," Indiana explained sheepishly.

"I... see..." the professor muttered, pressing down on the accelerator as the intersection ahead became clear, "Erh, well, my apologies, but wouldn't an animal handler be a better person to put in charge of a rare animal?"

"I've- uh, it's being funded by Marcus Brody, head of acquisitions?" said Indiana, "It was sorta his idea, and he signs the cheques so..."

"Dr Brody is a good man," Ravenwood gave an approving nod, fortunately seeming to buy the change in subject, "You know him well?"

"He was a friend of my dad's."

"Dr. Henry Jones, I believe? Professor of Medieval Literature?" Ravenwood looked up into his rearview mirror to catch Indiana's gaze.

Ten years of latin classes and droning lectures about inane, judeo-christian lore flashed back through Indiana's mind. Silently, he grumbled, "Yep, that's him."

"I had the pleasure of talking to him once. His theories on the Grail Legend were certainly illuminating," Ravenwood said, offhandedly, before fortunately moving swiftly along, "What's your reason for getting into archaeology, Mr Jones?"

Indiana narrowed his eyes, looking past Ravenwood towards the shore of Lake Michigan, peeking through the gaps in the buildings, "Well, uh... I've just always been a fan of ancient history. Always wanted to pursue something academic, thought it'd be a stable job that I wouldn't be miserable in."

"A respectable goal, Mr Jones. More young men like you should think the same way, yet I don't blame them for not doing so. It can be rather hard for a young man to really grapple with his purpose in this world at their age," the professor's moustache turned up slightly as he smiled, "Sometimes, I believe, we get easily caught up in grand expectations and goals. Those're always good things to pursue and have, lest we succumb to melancholy. Yet... sometimes, the most important things are right in front of us.

"A place to rest your head, a filled savings account, a woman to settle down with, these are the things that should occupy a young man's mind first. Then, he should free himself to pursue his goals," Ravenwood asserted.

"I'd sure like a filled savings account," Jones snorted as they made a turn, moving down a long, crowded street, "Still got a long way ago until I can get that sweet tenure paycheck. Have to figure out something before my bachelor's is up, I don't think the bank will keep loaning me money for my Master's."

"You intend to go all the way to doctorate?" Ravenwood asked.

"Mhm."

"If you're free next summer, you should come with me to Egypt. I am planning an excavation of some ancient sites there," Ravenwood raised his nose again as his car slowed, blocked by a group of pedestrians crossing the road. Horns blared from nearby traffic, causing his lips to curl downwards.

"Last time I was in Egypt, I was with Ned..." a pause, before Indy clarified, "T.E. Lawrence. The Egyptologist."

"Now THAT is an exciting man!" Ravenwood gave a hearty chuckle, light twinkling off of his glasses as he turned to look at Indiana, "You've heard of his exploits during the War?"

"Hard not to," said Indiana as caught Ravenwood's infectious smile.

"Archaeologist, defender of civilization, in tune with the Arabian culture," Ravenwood's smile faded slightly as he sighed. Suddenly, he turned away from the road and towards Indy, "Mr Jones? Be truthful. What is your opinion on eugenics?"

Indiana's heart rate climbed as he shifted nervously. The science in question was one very closely related to anthropology, and outright refuting it could ruin relationships. Looking the older man up and down, he carefully considered his next words, "Erh... I think most of it is... not based in truth."

"Most of it?" Ravenwood urged.

Indiana shrugged, "I'm not a geneticist or anything. I can't really comment, but I can say what I know," reaching a hand up to rub his cheek, he cautiously relayed an anecdote, "Back when I was in North Africa, as a kid. I got kidnapped and nearly sold into slavery. I learned the hard way what it was like to be treated like you weren't human. I think it's all trash."

Ravenwood looked long and deep into Indiana's eyes, before his smile returned and he reached over, shaking his shoulder firmly, "Good lad!" removing his hand and extending an index finger, he shook it at the student as he firmly instructed: "Mr Jones, you will have many other teachers than just me in college. Never let any of them infect your mind with that garbage. It is entirely and totally unfounded in reality!"

Indiana let out a sigh of relief, "Thanks, Professor."

"Tell you what, I'll give you some extra credit if you read the works of Franz Boas. He has done some very good work. Write a short report, about a thousand words, on what you learn and I'll give you ten marks."

That was an easy assignment! Indiana's smile grew, "Gee, thanks! I'll-I'll be sure to do that!"

Ravenwood pulled the car over to the curb. Just down the road, the sign for Colosimo's glowed in the setting sun. Patting Indy on the back, Ravenwood bid him goodbye. Stepping out of the car and thanking his teacher again, Indiana shook hands with the man before taking off down the sidewalk to show up for his shift early, for once.

Marcus Brody stepped out of his Packard, putting on his hat as he tightened his coat around him and kicked the door shut behind him. While the changing of seasons was in full swing, now that it was mid March, it was still cold enough for Marcus to require his full coat jacket in order to not catch his death.

He very rarely visited the South Side, and even more rarely did he come alone. A group of vagabonds sitting on a nearby stairwell, cigarettes in their mouths, eyed up his expensive coat and his car already. He glanced past them towards Indy's apartment block, heart sinking as he realized he'd have to get past them to get inside.

Looking back the other way, he realized he'd more likely have to walk around the entirety of the block, lest he wanted to attempt to politely shimmy by a group of muggers. Just as he was considering his next move, back turned to the drifters, a hand suddenly patted him on the back, making him shriek.

"Dr Brody!" Indiana's voice came across his ears as Marcus whirled, heart thundering.

Reaching up to his chest, Marcus breathed a sigh of relief at his friend. The other man wore simple suspenders and pants, a striped shirt underneath and a cap on his head. Around his arm he had draped a waiter's uniform.

Adjusting his hat, Marcus said, "Indy, you gave me quite the fright!" an exasperated chuckle, "You really ought to move out of this neighborhood. I don't know how you feel safe around people like this!"

Indiana Jones shrugged, looking over his shoulder to the group sitting on the stairs, "I mean, I don't, but those guys aren't robbers. They're just street sweepers, Doc."

"Yes and I'm a rich man with an expensive car, human nature comes into play..." Marcus gave a weak shrug, before suddenly lurching forward as Indy grabbed him by the arm.

"Come. Let's get you inside. What're you here for, anyway?" Indiana said, leading him fearlessly past the grimey men.

"Erh- well, Dr. Richter is a little late today. I thought it might be nice to come over and pay you a social call, before driving you and Anna to the laboratory," Marcus said, tipping his hat to a random passer-by as they stepped up into the lobby of Indy's apartment.

"Hey, listen, I've gotta go and drop this off at the laundromat and get my previous load of washing out," Indiana said, hefting his uniform indicatively before reaching into his pocket and procuring a set of keys, "Can you run up to my unit and make sure Anna's not dying or something?"

Marcus Brody took the keys, before giving Indiana a horrified look, "You're just leaving her alone!?"

"She's asleep," Indiana shrugged, "I've gotta do my washing someday, Marcus. I'll be back in half an hour, okay?"

With that, Indiana turned and hurriedly strode out the door, leaving Marcus Brody in the lobby alone. With a sigh, the latter man made for the stairs, keeping his hands in his pockets as he ascended up to the third floor of the building. The units of the building were of mixed size, though none of them were larger than two bedrooms. Despite this, Marcus still dodged out of the way of children running down hallways and playing on the steps.

Arriving at the correct door, Marcus thumbed through Indy's keychain and inserted the correct blade into the lock. Entering, he took off his hat by reflex and hung it on a hook by the door, right next to a worn fedora. Shutting and locking the door behind him, Marcus took a moment to examine the room.

Ever since Johan had arrived for his first study of Anna, Indy had been bringing the infant to the college by his own means. So, it had not been since then that Marcus had seen the inside of Indiana's apartment.

His nose scrunched slightly at the smell. The room definitely smelled like baby, and not in any good way. To his right, a kitchenette was positively soiled with coffee grounds, crumbs, and half-done dishes laying across counters and in the sink. A small icebox had been left hanging open, and Marcus spied a rather sparse collection of staples inside as he pushed the door shut. A less than appealing toilet lay through a door to his left, and items had been left strewn across the floor.

At the very back of the room, an infant, alien equine lay in a crib, snoozing softly. It was, perhaps, the only thing in the room that was perfectly clean.

Marcus grimaced, walking over to the far side of the room and reaching over, unlatching and opening Indy's window to allow some of the stench to escape. Cold air began to leak in past the pane, and gently Marcus reached down to adjust the soft,, second-hand blanket that covered the mustard-colored animal's sleeping form.

"Indy, your place is a cardboard box..." Marcus muttered to himself. He felt a pang of guilt, perhaps he should have considered paying him more? He supposed it was only temporary, until the American Zoological Association took the creature, but still...

Marcus looked down to the dishes laying in the sink. He had a housekeeper, but he had never considered himself beyond the menial task of cleaning up. He owed that to his parents, who had demanded he always clean his own plates after dinner, despite their own levels of wealth. He grabbed at the ends of his gloved fingers, drawing off the garments and shoving them in his pockets. Finally, rolling back the sleeves of his jacket, he turned on the faucet.

The man gave the dishes as good of a scrubbing as he could, before drying them and reaching for the cupboard to put them away. Inside, the clean dishes were jumped up in a chaotic mess, making Marcus sigh and pull several of them out. With the clattering of ceramic and tin, he reorganized the dishes, putting them away in such a way that every single one of Indiana's utensils actually fit inside of the cabinet.

Taking a peek over his shoulder, Marcus saw no movement from the crib. Giving a self-satisfied nod, he dried his hands and reached into his pocket, putting his gloves back on. Then, using his feet, he began to kick the items strewn across the floor into a pile, before leaning over, much to the distress of his lower back, to begin picking them off the floor and organizing them.

There was a bag of spare nappies, a can of shoe polish, a bundle of twine, a bullwhip, a book on anthropology, several changes of dirty clothes, several changes of clean clothes, and several dirty baby bottles. By the time Marcus was done clearing the floor, standing up and cradling his back, he turned to see Anna awake and staring at him while sucking on her hoof.

"Well, good..." Marcus quickly checked his watch, "...Afternoon, young one!"

Anna responded by promptly beginning to fuss.

Walking over to Indiana's bed to sit down to relieve his back and be within arm's length of the crib, Marcus reached down to pick the creature up. He approached the situation in an awkward manner, not knowing exactly how to pick up the creature. Was it like a dog, with two hands around the barrel? Indiana had been carrying it like a human infant, so was it by the shoulders?

Anna began to cry, Marcus once again noting with a sense of eerie displeasure just how odd it was for such an animalistic being to give such a human vocalization. With a slight shrug, he simply reached out and grabbed her in what he believed to be the most gentle way possible.

Despite his best intentions, as he sat down and tried to cradle her, she fought back against his grip. Her fussing and crying turned into screams, and Marcus winced as her shrieks pierced his ears, "Now, now..." he began, awkwardly, "I- erh, I've got you."

His words seemed to instill no confidence, and the shrieking continued.

He felt her diaper. It was fine. He held her out in front of him and moved a finger near her mouth, yet she didn't seem to want to suckle. Eventually, a bright idea came into his mind as he craned to reach the window, pulling it closed, "Too cold?" he queried as the window came shut.

Her cries died down, and for a moment, she made eye contact through squinted, tear-streaked magenta eyes. Promptly, though, the crying continued.

A knock came at the door, "Hey! Marcus! Let me in!"

Awkwardly maneuvering the infant creature to hold it with one hand, Marcus staggered over to the door and unlocked it. Shortlya fter, Indiana pushed the door open, hauling in with him a full basket of laundry.

"I'm sorry, Indy, she just started crying and I don't know why," Marcus apologized as another shrill cry pierced the air. With her forehooves, the creature reached out towards Indiana, who shoved the door closed behind him.

"Babies just kinda do that from time to time, Marcus," Indiana said in a tired tone, putting down the laundry basket and taking Anna into his arms. Her cries began to die down shortly after, much to the older man's amazement. For a moment, the young archaeologist just stroked her back and hushed her, bobbing up and down with his knees as he gazed around the apartment, "...You cleaned up?" he noticed.

"Erh, yes, well, I had nothing better to do," Marcus admitted, following his gaze around the room, "These really are rather miserable conditions, Indy. You must look for a better apartment - I'd pay the difference in rent. I don't want to see you living like this."

Indiana rolled his eyes, walking over to the bed and sitting down with a squeak of mattress springs, "It'll be fine. Just another month and I can afford something better on my own."

Marcus Brody, despite himself, gave a slight smile at that. Indiana was just as stubborn as his father. Walking over to the kitchenette, Marcus leaned on a counter opposite to Indiana as he said, "You two seem to have a good connection. She calmed right down when you took her."

"Yeah, kinda eerie isn't it?" Indiana said, taking his eyes off Marcus and towards Anna as she stared up at him from his shoulder, "...You think Dr Richter might be right about that language thing?"

"I would be shocked if he were right," Marcus admitted, "It would mean that we are not alone as the only intelligent life on this planet. It'll be a revolution of science and philosophy."

"...What if she turns out to be intelligent?" Indiana asked, voice almost... harrowed?

Marcus took a moment to consider, tapping his fingers against the wooden side of the cabinets beneath the counter. He eventually answered with, "Well, I suppose it would be a new paradigm. She'd likely be taken to be studied and cared for by the nation's top scientists. You'd be famous for discovering it as well."

"Maybe I'm just a bit of a cynic, Marcus, but..." Indy sighed, looking back over to his friend before saying, "Imagine being in those shoes. Being kept to be studied your entire life in some far away place, then brought out to be a spectacle for journalists and reporters..."

"An unfortunate existence, perhaps," Marcus nodded in agreement, "Yet what other choice is there? It's not like you could just..." a dry chuckle, "Adopt her out to some human family."

Anna craned her neck to try and look behind herself. Indiana adjusted his grip on her, allowing her to see Marcus. Slowly, she glanced between them as their conversation continued.

"I met this guy on the trip back here from Panama. Name's Richard. He insisted to me that she was going to have the same needs as a human child, and made me give my word that if she turned out to be..." a pause, "...more, that I should keep her."

Marcus's eyebrows raised, and he looked between Anna and Indiana with new perspective. Suddenly, he didn't feel like he was in an apartment with a friend and a rare animal. Instead, he felt he was in the apartment of a single father. The metaphor was uncannily accurate to him.

Blinking, Marcus eventually, slowly said, "...Indy...? You... you do know how... impractical that would be?"

"Trust me, I've thought really long and hard about it," Indiana sighed, averting his eyes again, "That's why I'm considering breaking my word anyway."

Marcus nodded along, slowly, "This has been very stressful for you, hasn't it?"

"...Yeah," Indiana's shoulders slumped, "I just don't trust what guys like Richter would do to her. You hear him, talking about how much he'd like to examine her brain."

Marcus Brody huffed, "Now, Indy, that's basic scientific curiosity. You can hardly blame him for..." a pause, as he stuttered for a moment, "This- this isn't about the fact he's German, is it?"

Indiana rolled his eyes, "No!" a pause, "-Okay maybe a little bit, but it really extends farther than that," he looked back down to Anna, "Look at her. Dy'a really think something like this deserves a future in a zoo?"

Marcus levelled his eyes at the creature. For a moment, they shared eye contact as she stared, cluelessly, up at him. Marcus, frowning slightly, adjusted the wings of his coat, "...I know how easy it can be to become... connected, Indy. I mean this only out of concern for your own well-being, but... I fear you may not be thinking clearly."

Indiana, to his credit, seemed to put in effort to restrain himself as he evenly asked, "How?"

"Well, think about your academic career. Already, your scholarly work is suffering from needing to take care of her. Think about the state of your apartment, is this really any way to live?" Marcus gave a vague gesture around, "Are you willing to live this way for the next twenty years of your life? Are you willing to give up your adventures for her?"

A pause, before Indiana sighed and responded, "...I dunno, Marcus. That's really what I'm trying to figure out."

"How long have you been thinking this through?"

"Since I got back to America," he admitted.

"You would be no less of a man to entrust her care to experienced professionals, Indy," Marcus Brody reminded softly, clasping his hands in front of himself, "I know you regretted deeply the impulse that made you join the Army. I need you to truly introspect and ask yourself where these thoughts are coming from."

Indiana looked down into the eyes of the animal he at least believed was his child, before saying, "Marcus, let's just say, theoretically, I chose to keep her. What would you do?"

Marcus Brody heaved a long-suffering sigh, looking up towards the ceiling as he searched his mind for an answer, "Well... we'd have to figure out a way to convince Johan not to publish his papers. With enough public attention, you may not exactly have a choice in the matter."

"...Right," Indiana sighed, stroking the back of the animal some more as she fussed, "What would you do if I made the decision to keep her?"

Marcus understood what Indiana meant, pushing off the cabinet and walking into the center of the room as he added, "Perhaps I might not understand why, perhaps I might not agree with you, but..." Marcus reached out an arm, laying a hand on Indy's shoulder, "I'd find any way to help that I could, Indy," he gave the younger man a single pat on the shoulder, before backing away and adding, "Come now. We should get going to the university."

Indiana stood and followed him to the door, each man taking their respective hats from the hangar as they exited, not before Indiana picked up all the supplies he needed to tide her over her checkup at the laboratory.

Author's Note

This one cleared the editing queue ahead of schedule, which has made me paranoid. Point out any issues you see if they end up bugging you.