The snow was melting outside as Indiana unlocked the door to his apartment. The hinges protested as he pushed open the door, shoving the walker with Anna sitting in it through as he sidled in after it. Under his arm, a bundle of books was kept together with twine - several textbooks bought in advance for his third year of bachelor's studies. Hanging off of the handle of the walker itself, a bag full of the week's shopping also accompanied them.

Thanks to his handful of experience in restaurants and solid year's work, he'd received a promotion - and a bonus - just in time to spend it all on books and groceries. Though, amongst the items he did manage to find this nice ring puzzle for Anna to play around with. He'd been told that this was a good time to start to involve his daughter in a few more complicated toys.

Pushing the walker, with Anna in it, to the opposite side of the room, Indiana threw his bundle of books towards his bed then turned towards the bathroom door. Anna made noises from her seat, struggling against the small harness that kept her from jumping out, and Indiana shouted behind him, "I'll be with you in a second, hun."

Flipping on the single lightbulb in the bathroom, Indiana leaned over the sink and twisted the faucet. Cool water gushed out, and he wiped it over his face and dirtied hands. He scratched his chin a bit as he examined himself in the mirror. He was starting to grow a bit of stubble, and while he'd initially let it grow out of the eternally busy cycle his life was locked into, he kinda liked how it looked. It made him look... rugged...

Something naggled in the back part of his brain. A passive sense of danger he felt so rarely these days, so long between adventure-

It was too quiet. Anna's noises were nowhere to be found. Wind blew in from the street outside, through the open window.

Bolting back out the door, Indiana snapped his vision towards the back of his apartment. Sure enough, he'd left the window wide open. Fortunately enough no skilled climbers had decided to rob his place while he was gone, but the much more concerning sight was the object right next to it: the walker. The harness had been unbuckled, and the occupant was completely gone, the windowsill only a foot or so above it.

Indiana's eyes darted around the rest of his room. Every other surface was empty, and his heart dropped into his boots. Sprinting across the room, he kicked the walker out of the way, the wooden frame clattering against the wall nearby. Sticking his head through the window, knocking off his fedora as he did so, he screamed towards the street below, "ANNA! ANNA! Dear god!"

Down below, pedestrians made their way past on the sidewalk, some glancing up in response to Indiana's desperate cries. Sure, there was no... bloody smear, or anything, but there really wasn't any other explanation in his mind for what had just happened. For the first time in a long time, tears welled up in his eyes as he collapsed against the windowsill, raking his fingers up into his hair as his breath caught in his throat.

Perhaps a year ago, he'd spit and curse his luck for another squandered treasure. However, this wasn't like accidentally dropping a priceless idol into a river, or... or even like the times he lost some of his friends in the Somme. This was something even worse. It had been solely his responsibility to be her guardian, and he let a lapse in his judgement, a stupid open window, get the better of him. He'd always depended on his luck to make up for his sometimes stark lack of forethought. He'd always known that his luck would run out someday, but he'd always betted on it being his own life on the line when he did so, not someone else's... not his own daughter's...

Something brushed up against the back of his right shoulder.

Indiana turned around. In front of him, instilling in him both equal measures of immense relief and amazement, was Anna... hovering in midair. Her tiny wings, still fluffy with down, fluttered rapidly; almost as quickly as Indiana might expect from an insect or hummingbird. In her muzzle, she held his fedora, clenched between her teeth. The hat was large enough that it drooped down all the way in front of her, covering her body almost entirely. It was a wonder in and of itself how she had managed to lift it up.

"You can fly!?" Indiana shouted, slamming the window closed behind him as he turned fully to face her, "Those wings work!?"

At the shock of him shouting and the window slamming shut, Anna promptly stopped flying. Falling to the floor, she bounced slightly off the ground, the hat falling out of her mouth and to her father's feet. As a result of the pain, Anna instantly cringed, teared up, and began to wail loudly. With a grateful sigh, Indiana crouched and picked Anna up, rocking her in his arms as he rubbed his hand over her pelt, smoothing over the parts no doubt bruised by the fall.

He had to wire Johan about this.

In a familiar laboratory in the University of Chicago, three men stood around a bench around a small gold-colored foal. She looked around curiously as Johan carefully re-measured her wingspan with a measuring tape.

"And you say you saw it with your own eyes?" Richter hummed as he closed the tape.

Indiana nodded, hands on his hips, "Hovering right in front of me, at around shoulder height. Had my hat in her mouth and everything."

Johan kneeled to be on eye level with Anna, adjusting his glasses as he did so. Her eyes followed him, and he gave a smile and a small wave, "Guten tag, little miss. Growing big and strong, I see. Mr. Jones is treating you well, ja?"

"Johnes!" Anna exclaimed, sticking her forehooves in the air.

Thrusting his arms into the air as well, Johan mimicked Anna's gesture, "Ja! Jones indeed!"

Marcus chuckled from beside Indiana, "The old kraut's taken a liking to her," Indiana gave a smile and a nod, and Marcus continued, "Not seeing much flying yet. You sure it wasn't some sort of... freak occurrence?"

Indiana reached into his pocket, bringing out a bright red lollipop and watching Johan play with Anna, "No. There's been a bunch of situations where she's gotten into impossible places. Being able to fly, at least for short hops, makes a lot of sense."

Stepping forward, Indiana broke up Anna and the doctor's interaction, "Hey, Anna. I got something for you, but you gotta show Johan here how you can use your wings, alright?" Indiana proffered the lollipop, holding it out in front of Anna. Her eyes tore from Johan's and immediately began to gleam, and she leaned forward to wiggle a forehoof towards the candy.

Before she could grab it, Indiana moved his arm, holding it a few feet over her instead. Anna's response to this was to reach up, haunches firmly on the ground, groping with her forelegs towards the unreachable candy. When she could not, in fact, reach it from where she was, she broke down crying inconsolably, staring at Indiana with a betrayed look on her face.

Marcus probed his ear with a finger as the piercing screech filled the room, no doubt travelling out into the hallway beyond them. Johan looked between Indiana and Anna curiously, idly reaching for the pen in his pocket as he did so. Finally, Anna stopped bawling for just long enough to begin to beat her wings. They turned into a golden blur, beating possibly several times in a second.

Marcus and Johan gasped in unison as, surely enough, Anna lifted off of the ground, travelling skywards towards the lolly. Eventually, once she ascended a foot or so off the ground, Indiana moved the candy to place it in her hooves. At once, the crying stopped and Anna stuck the rounded end of the lollipop in her mouth and began to suck, hovering in place while concentrated sheerly on the sugary treat in her hooves.

"...Fascinating," Johan whispered. Standing, Johan placed a hand palm-up beneath her as she hovered, "...There is a slight breeze. Has to be around... maybe 4 miles per hour? How does she generate that lift with such small wings? She must weigh... what, around 19 pounds? She is already heavier than an eagle... but has so little wingspan..."

"What's the verdict, doc?" Indiana asked, watching passively as Anna sucked down on the lollipop, ready to pluck it from her lips if she sucked it too far into her mouth.

"By all means what she's doing is physically impossible. Physically both in terms of... bodily capability, and in terms of the laws of physics. She has a wing load of around... 20 pounds on at most... a square foot of wing? Depending how heavy she grows up to be..." Johan rubbed the bridge of his nose, leaning back onto a nearby countertop, "I really don't have an explanation for you."

"Perhaps it's due to some... physical process we are unaware of?" Marcus asked, watching as she continued to hover, almost effortlessly, a few feet off the table.

"Perhaps," Johan nodded, before looking back towards her and saying, "I will... continue to collect data. For now, I would take extra care, Mr Jones, about ensuring she doesn't harm herself. I would smooth down sharp edges on elevated surfaces and keep your windows closed."

"Not a lot of places she can fly in my apartment," Indiana folded his arms, humming, "Can't just let her outside. What if she flies out of sight? I can't exactly follow her."

"I imagine her biological parents would be able to," Johan sighed, placing his hands in his pockets, "I am sure you know this well enough, Mr Jones, but- your current living situation... it is..."

"I know, I know," said Indiana with a grunt, "I can't exactly do anything about it, can I?"

"It is becoming increasingly irresponsible to attempt to raise her in such a confined area," concluded Johan, perhaps too sternly.

Indiana, inflamed by the implication, immediately retorted, "Hey! I'm doing my best."

Johan raised his nose, but didn't press farther. Fortunately, he was in far better control of his emotions than the young college student. There was little more time in their visitation, though, as soon Indiana needed to pick Anna up and journey outside to catch the next tram. Yet, as Johan and Marcus were left alone in the laboratory, the former failed to immediately go about packing his instruments.

"That boy needs an intervention," Marcus sighed wearily, "He's going to drive himself up the wall in that place. He barely makes rent along with his loan payments... I've offered more financial assistance, but he's refused it."

"He needs a house. A real house," Johan agreed, "Something with a lawn. Perhaps the working class family may make do with an apartment to rear their children, but this is a special case. I cannot imagine an enclosed space would be good for the development of something so clearly designed to run... and fly around."

Marcus Brody grimaced, "It's not just Anna that will suffer from his living arrangements, its Indy as well."

"His biggest mistake, I speculate, is continuing his education. He could keep up with his fiscal troubles "

"It's always been his dream to be an archaeologist," Marcus dismissed, "It would be cruel to take that away from him. Besides, if he completes his education he may well secure a well-paying job. If he lands a job teaching, he could be making somewhere near two thousand dollars a year."

Johan nodded slowly, "...Then? What is to be done?"

"We should buy him a house," Marcus said firmly.

Richter frowned, "I am not a wealthy man, Dr Brody-"

"I would be able to foot the bill. I've got no family to support with my savings, Indy practically is my only family at this point," Marcus chuckled, before trailing off and rubbing a cheek with a thumb. Eventually, he added, "...The greatest problem, though, would be him accepting it. I fear it would wound his pride."

"Tell him he can pay you back," Johan gave a slight smile, "But only tell him after all the paperwork is signed and you give him the keys."

Indiana Jones wrangled Anna as she tried her best to fly out of his arms and at the windshield of Marcus Brody's car. The cabin was filled with molted feathers as she fluttered her wings, her father restraining her by holding onto her hind legs. Forehead slicked with sweat from a busy lunch shift at Colosimo's, Indiana gave a confused look out the side window as they turned onto a new street.

Anna began to cry at the terrible treatment of her father, not allowing her to bash her head in against the windshield. Despite this, Indiana looked over to Marcus and asked, "Where the hell are we going?"

"I want to show you a new property I just bought," Marcus, still dressed in his formal office wear, said with a cheeky grin on his face, "Say, Indy, when did you say Anna's birthday was?"

Indiana brow furrowed at the strange question. It wasn't like Marcus to flaunt his wealth, "Uhhh... the 28th of January. That's when I found her," he eventually said.

After several repeat visits, Johan had managed to guesstimate that Anna was about 4-6 months old when she was first found in the ruins in Panama. Though this would place her 'real' birthday somewhere between July and September, Indiana had personally decided that it was better to make her birthday the 28th. Relatedly, it was currently the 27th of January.

"Bah! Missed it by one day," Marcus snapped a finger in mock frustration, "Ah well. Indy, I wanted to talk with you about my relationship to Anna."

The child in question had ceased attempting to fly and instead sat on her father's lap, crying. Though, Indiana had learned that babies were just as capable of deception as adults. Sometimes, they cried just to try and get their way, probably thinking they were very clever. Yet, there was a clear difference between how she cried earnestly and how she cried dishonestly; this case definitely fell under the latter.

Ignoring Anna, Indy kept his gaze on Marcus, "What about it?"

"Well, Indy, I think we've grown to rather be like family over the last few years," the older man intoned as they pulled down another street, this one lined with trees and white picket fences, "I consider you almost like a son to me. While your father should have his place as Anna's grandfather, I believe perhaps I should take a place as Anna's uncle?"

"...Sure?" Indiana raised an eyebrow, the car suddenly slowing and pulling to the left curb. He looked around again, "...Marcus, what's all this about?"

"Come, I'll show you!" Marcus said, switching off the engine and pulling the handbrake. Fishing out a pair of keys from his coat pocket, he exited the car and stepped onto the sidewalk.

Indiana, utterly confused, stared for a few moments. Eventually, Marcus gestured for him to come out, and he complied. Rounding the hood, Anna still in his arms and no longer wasting the energy on fake-crying, all three of them came to face a house standing right next to where the car was parked. A number on the mailbox said '34' and a lawn extended from the rear of the home.

They stood for a moment, before Indiana was suddenly urged on again by Marcus, "Come on, let's look inside!" he said.

"O-kay?" Indiana lowered his eyebrows as Marcus walked briskly to the front door and inserted the keys inside, unlocking it.

The house was two stories, to save space as it fit between the dense spacing of the inner-city neighborhood that surrounded. They entered into an empty room that was clearly meant to be a lounge. Beyond it sat a dining room, which connected to a kitchen. In the kitchen, a door lead to the back yard, and a staircase lead to the second floor. Up said staircase were two bedrooms, one master bedroom and one smaller one. There was also a door leading into a bathroom, equipped with a sink, bath, and shower.

"It's nice. Could use some furniture, but it's nice," Indiana said as their tour concluded, "What're you going to use it for?" he asked as he turned around.

Behind him, Marcus held out the house keys towards Indiana, "I've got the papers for you to sign, it can all already be in your name," he said, cheeky grin still on his face, "Pay me back if it helps your pride, Indy, but take it as a gift from me to you and Anna. You know how much you both need this."

Indiana's face morphed into a scowl, "You haven't already paid for it, have you?"

Marcus's hand reached out, opened one of Indiana's free hands, and shoved the keys inside, "Yes," he said as he clasped Indiana's hand shut, "A few years ago, I promised your father that I would make sure you didn't get hurt - even though I know you aren't on the best of terms personally, he still cares about your wellbeing," a pause, "...Staying where you are is slowly killing you, and we both know that you aren't moving any time soon without help. You can pay me back, after you have a stable income. I don't want to hear anything about interest rates or payments until then."

"...Thanks, Marcus... I really owe you," Indiana said, a shot of spice running through his sinuses as his eyes began to water, "I'll get you back some day, I promise."

"Don't worry about all that right now," Marcus dismissed, waving a hand, "Get that doctorate you dreamed of. Grab a tenure, get a stable paycheck, then I'm sure you'll be able to afford several houses!"

Indiana, in an attempt to distract himself from his own emotional state, turned Anna around in his grip. Facing her towards Marcus, he said in his soft, baby-talk voice, "Look, Anna, Uncle Marcus bought us a house!"

Anna reached out her hooves towards Marcus, squirming and fluttering her wings.

"Want to hold her?" he offered as the child struggled to escape his grasp.

Marcus cautiously complied, reaching out to hold the heavy equine child in an admittedly very awkward way. This time, Anna did not immediately begin crying.

She only did so after a few seconds of stunned silence. It was progress.

Dear Richard,

My apologies for not including your full name, as I do not think I ever got your full name during our short time together. I also apologize for neglecting to write to you, as the past year has been exceedingly busy for me. I have been juggling college studies, a job, and a daughter, leaving me in a constant cycle of exhaustion. Despite all of this, I find it a necessity to let you know what has been happening, and offer my sincerest thanks.

A zoologist from Pennsylvania came to study Anna in a controlled environment. The results of his study concluded that she was some form of truly intelligent life, as in the same amount of intelligence as a human. I kept my promise to you, and I've taken her in as my own despite the immense stress she admittedly puts on me. The temptation to allow the scientists to requisition her into care of the federal government was high, as I believed I was totally unfit to be a father.

Perhaps I was right about that lack of fitness. My fiscal struggles have been many, and I would likely be homeless without being bailed out multiple times by my close friends. I now stand with my pride wounded, but at least I do stand in a stable home that might be capable of raising Anna right. Now that I think about it, you were the first in the line of friends that helped me stand when I didn't think I could. I might've just tossed her overboard or muzzled her if it weren't for you helping to take care of her aboard the Safe Travels.

You should also know that Anna's middle name is Katie.

I know the times you can respond to letters are few and far between, considering your mobile work requirements. However, I would enjoy it if we could arrange some time for us to meet in person again. Perhaps when you next stop off at New York?

Regards, Indiana Jones.

Over the first semester of Indiana's final bachelor year, 35 Rosewood Avenue became more than just an empty shell. While not a lot of furniture could be afforded, a couch came to reside in the living room, beds were moved into the rooms upstairs, and a study desk was sidled up next to one of the windows looking towards the street in the master bedroom.

With the addition of a new bedroom, Anna got her own place to sleep. She was beginning to talk in phrases, and was more than capable of shouting out to her father now when something was needed. Following recommendations from books on parenting, as well as the more tailored advice of Dr. Richter, she was also finally moved out of the crib and into a toddler-sized bed.

Another piece of advice from the doctor that Indy followed was blunting elevated surfaces. Taking a piece of sandpaper, Indiana viciously attacked many of the edges of cabinets, pantries, and even light fixtures with dangerous, pointed edges. As Anna continued to fly, many times Indiana would hear a crash, a thump, then a loud, genuine cry.

He also quickly learned to put nothing fragile on high shelves as well.

A problem arose, however, in the form of care for Anna when he wasn't at home. He had relied heavily on Ms - now Mrs - Helen Shallow, as she had become comfortable with the idea of taking care of an extremely odd child. However, now the woman was married and expecting a child, and with those life changes her babysitting hours were understandably cut to near-zero.

Through the flow of casual conversation, Indiana mentioned his struggles with finding a babysitter to his teacher. Abner Ravenwood was quick to refer his own daughter for the task, the 12 year old Marion Ravenwood looking for a summer job.

Indiana, low on people who would work standard wage to take care of his special daughter who were also close enough to his inner circle to trust with a secret, readily accepted.

Marion Ravenwood stepped out of her father's car, adjusting her skirt and looking nervously around. Ahead of her, a small two-storey house was settled in between a large, expansive row of town homes extending down the street. The wind rustled through birch trees planted along the sidewalk, where polite American citizenry walked towards tram stations or walked their dogs.

She took one look back through the passenger side window towards her father, who simply gave her a reassuring smile. It was far from her first time being given responsibility, not having a mother around to retrieve her from school or make her dinner when her father was late. Yet, it was the first time that she was doing something as grown-up as try and make money for herself, even if it was just a casual summer job.

Swallowing her nervousness and adjusting the straps of her school bag - loaded with everything she believed she needed for the day ahead - she stalked up towards the front steps of the home. Raising her hand, she rapped her knuckles against the front door.

A young man, dressed in a suit and tie, opened the door shortly afterwards. A satchel was around his waist, a fedora slapped onto his head, a rugged, shadowy beard on his jaw, and a scar sat just beneath his lower lip. Somehow, he reminded her of her math teacher.

He gave her an awkward smile, "You, uh, must be Dr Ravenwood's daughter?"

"Marion!" she greeted, extending a hand, "You must be Indiana Jones."

Indiana took the hand and shook it, "Yeah. Come in, I've gotta tell you a few things then your dad's gonna take me back to college."

Marion stepped into a sparsely decorated and furnished lounge. Ragged, stained toys were strewn across the floor, leading out from a chest in a corner. A couch sat next to a coffee table, which someone had taken sandpaper to to blunt the edges. A bookshelf sat nearby, sloppily filled with children's books. A pillow had been glued to the top, and nails had been driven through its backboard and into the wall. Behind the lounge laid a dining room and a kitchen, all with similarly paranoid levels of safety precautions.

The intrigued look on Marion's face turned to fright as the sound of rapid wingbeats signalled the coming of a gold-colored blur. Some great creature shot around a corner and smashed straight into Marion's face, toppling her over as she screamed. An extra thick layer of carpet cushioned her fall, though the feeling of her brain smashing against the back and front of her skull pounded pain through her head.

As she regained her senses, her eyes focused on two, eerily large magenta irises staring back at her. Sitting on her chest was something almost like a horse, though it had a golden pelt, a patterned mane of black and grey, a beige shirt, and a diaper covering its behind.

"Hey Anna," Indiana, who stood over Marion without a single hint of compassion, said in a soft voice, "This is Marion. She's your new sitter."

"Maria," the creature spoke in a voice eerily similar to a toddler's.

"Marion," Indiana repeated.

'Anna' let out another eerily human-like giggle, before acting out some sort of scene with her forehooves, "Marion go boom!"

"Yes, Marion fell down. Don't fly into people, Anna, it's rude," Indiana scolded half-heartedly, an amused grin growing on his face as he watched Marion's increasingly frantic expression.

"Why is it talking!?" Marion blurted, raising a hand and probing for a way to gently brush the fuzzy toddler off of her.

"She does that," Indiana said, picking up Anna by the arms and placing her back down on the floor, "Listen, just make sure she doesn't escape the house while I'm gone. Heat up lunch in the pan at around eleven-thirty and feed her the full bowl. I've already portioned it all out. Make sure she eats it all."

"Wh-What!?" Marion gasped, getting up and brushing herself off in a nervous fit, "This is just normal to you?"

Indiana shrugged, "Yeah. She's just like a normal girl, just with a weird exterior. You'll get to know her."

She gave him another distressed look. A temptation rose in her stomach to dash out the door and back to her father to demand she be allowed to go back home.

"Listen. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. Don't go in the master bedroom, otherwise just do what you want," Indiana said, beginning to open the door to leave, much to Marion's dread. He paused, though, and looked back at her as he was halfway out the door. Jabbing a finger at her, he said, "And don't open any windows! I'm afraid she'll fly out of the house!"

Marion rocked forward on her heels to try and escape, yet the strange infant was sitting on the floor in front of her, looking at her 'father' as he exited. Unable to overcome her fear of the uncannily toddler-like animal, she hesitated long enough that the door was closed and locked by the time she looked back up.

Of course, her father leaving without her immediately caused Anna to grow upset. Cries filled the air as she galloped into, and smashed clumsily into the door. Those deep, rose-colored eyes immediately turned upwards towards Marion, welt up with tears at both the abandonment and the pain of running into the door.

Marion swallowed the lump in her throat, "Just think of the stuff you're gonna buy at the end of the summer, Marion, just think of the ice cream..."

She was going to be the talk of the Herston Girl's School, with a new bike and pocket change to take all her friends out for treats. She'd been braver before, walking home alone and hiding that one time robbers broke into their home. She was always being called mature for her age. Surely some strange baby-horse-rat-beast was nothing she couldn't handle.

Marion looked up the side of the tall, majestic tree, at the gold-colored dot all the way on the top branch, where its shirt had gotten caught. Anna fluttered her wings helplessly, trying to disentangle herself from the leaves of the tree, yet was left crying and screaming in fear as she found herself completely trapped.

She had opened the window after an explosive diaper had stinked up the house. As long as Anna was in her sight it didn't matter, after all. Yet, after carrying the toddler back down to the lounge and going to the kitchen to heat up the mash, she'd forgotten all about it. The next thing she knew, Anna had escaped the house through the window, flown straight into the neighbor's yard, and gotten stuck in a tree.

Thankfully, the neighbors were not at home, or else she might be attempting to explain to the fire brigade why an animal was stuck in a tree and crying like an abandoned baby. Instead, she had scaled the fence, ran to the base of the tree, and stared upwards to its peak for a solid three minutes attempting to formulate a plan.

Marion couldn't call for help. If Mr Jones found out his 'daughter' had gotten away from her and gotten hurt, she'd have hell to pay - both to Mr Jones and to her father. She gulped - she'd climbed plenty of trees before, being rather tomboyish, but this time she'd been dressed to impress. That meant a long skirt, which was definitely not something to climb in.

With very little other choice, she grabbed a nearby ladder from the neighbor's shed, slid it over to the base of the tree, and kicked off her shoes and socks. Climbing the ladder put her in reach of some of the lower boughs, which she used to begin her ascent . Twigs constantly scraped and caught against the cloth of her skirt, yet she pressed on even as the sound of ripping and tearing came from below her.

Panting and sweating, Marion refused to look down as she kept her eyes on the prize and continued to climb. A branch bent and snapped underfoot, nearly leaving her to plummet, yet she held on with her arms onto a more sturdy branch and re-footed herself elsewhere. Finally, with tied-back hair in tatters, leaves caught in all sorts of places, heart pounding, and covered in sweat, Marion found herself in reach of Anna.

The poor child had tuckered itself out, wings hung limp from its sides as it teetered precariously on the edge of a branch. Tears stained its cheeks as it spun in place slowly, the sturdy cloth her custom-made shirt was made out of keeping her airborne as it was caught in a claw-like gnarl of wood. Even if she got free, Marion doubted it would have the energy to land safely below.

"Marion!" Anna cried.

Sucking in a deep breath, Marion extended her arm as far as it would go towards Anna, yet came just short. Anna let out another pitiful cry, wiggling its little hooves out towards the girl as Marion attempted to regain her strength. With another, braver push, she reached out towards Anna, fingernails barely brushing the foal's shirt before she was forced to retract again.

Marion looked down towards her footing, attempting to find a better place to climb to in order to give her the few more inches required to rescue Anna. A young, but living branch showed some promise. She probed it with her right foot, finding it bendy and stretchy but sturdy enough to put her weight on. Fear wracked her body as she caught a glance at the ground, three stories below, the feeling amped as she felt the branch bend under her weight.

Looking up, summoning her bravery, and thrusting her arm out, she reached for Anna. Her palm grasped around the foal's midsection, and she tugged with urgency to get the child's cloth un-snared. With a loud tear, the back of Anna's shirt ripped open, the cloth left behind on the tree. At the same time, the branch snapped, leaving her with just her left foot and left arm to grip onto the tree.

A muscle pulled in her leg as she screamed with fright, slamming Anna against her chest in a desperate pull to keep her prize from falling to its death. Panting heavily, she managed to withdraw her right foot back onto the stable branch, just before her left foot slipped and doomed her to fall.

For a moment, Marion stood on the branch, steadied with her left hand and her right hand tucking Anna against her chest, and panted with exhaustion and fright. She couldn't help but look down and watch the broken branch fall down to the lawn below, hitting the ground with a distant rustle.

Her climb down was made much, much more difficult with the lack of a right hand - which was used to clamp the squirming, crying toddler to her chest. She realized she was leaving behind bloody footprints on parts of the tree, her bare feet getting terribly scratched up by the bark and branches. The adrenaline high running through her system was more than enough for her to ignore the pain, and soon she was level with the second floor of the neighbor's home.

Just a few more branches down, and Marion carefully lowered herself onto the ladder. Back on an apparatus made for climbing, she gladly scaled the last few steps back to the ground. With a gasp, she leaned back onto the tall, picket fence that made up the back of the yard.

In her arms, Anna looked up at Marion with a pained, tired expression. Making eye contact, Marion put on her best grown-up voice, "That... was a very naughty thing to do," she panted.

Later, Marion wiped the last remnants of a late lunch off of Anna's muzzle. The mash, having been abandoned on the stove after Marion ran, panicked out the back door to rescue the child, had promptly overcooked, burned to ash, and then become baked onto the pan. Fortunately, the gas canister for the stove was already nearly depleted, or else her lack of attendance may well have caused the house to catch on fire.

With very little else to do, Marion had improvised a lunch out of cold, mashed apples, served at around the same portion size as the bowl that had been left for her. Anna, exhausted from her illicit excursion out to the neighbor's tree, seemed to either like it or lack the energy to fuss.

Standing up and taking the dishes to the sink, limping from her bloodied feet and strained leg muscle, Marion did the dishes. She scoured the charcoal off of the frying pan, cleaned the plates, and washed the mortar and pestle. Terribly thirsty from her climb, she poured herself a cup of water as well and began to drink.

She wasn't sure what those protestors that rallied in the city streets were talking about. Water was just fine to drink, why would they need something like beer? From what her father had told her, the stuff was disgusting, anyway. 12 small, tin cups of water later, and Marion leaned back on the kitchen counter to take a moment to herself.

Anna had passed out on the high chair, snoring softly.

Marion's eyes examined the creature closely. As the day had marched on, she'd slowly gotten more and more used to the toddler's bizarre appearance. She thought talking, colorful animals were only a thing that existed in story-books. She certainly had no classmates that were taking animals, and even though Sarah claimed she had a best friend who was a squirrel, she'd never really believed her.

Shoot, none of her friends were going to believe her!

What was she going to tell them once they got back to school? That she spent the summer babysitting a Funny Animal? She'd be a laughing stock. They were in the 7th grade, now. They were too old to have imaginary talking animal friends! Now, when she flaunted her wealth, they'd just think her rich dad had given her spending money while she spent the summer being a wastrel.

Marion hung her head. She really should've just not listened to her father and gone around the neighborhood sticking up flyers... or something. Awh well, maybe she'd just have to lie and say she took care of a baby that none of her classmates knew about.

A few minutes later and Marion relocated Anna to her bedroom upstairs for a proper nap. An hour or so later of relaxing and resting, and soon Anna was awake again and fluttering around the lounge. After double-checking that every single window in the house was closed tightly, Marion sat down on the couch with her own book to keep an eye on Anna as she flew in lazy circles, touching down occasionally to play with the toys on the floor.

She particularly liked a ring puzzle, where rings had to be stacked from largest to smallest. She didn't stack the rings though, instead she took them off, threw them all over the place, chewed on them, and placed them around her neck and spun them around. Eventually, though, she seemed to grow tired of toys, and instead went to the bookshelf and retrieved a picture-book.

Predictably, Anna went to the only person in the house who was literate. Marion gave a slight smile, patting the cushion beside her and opening the picture book.

It was while she read from a long queue of books brought to her that the man of the house came home. With the jingle of keys and the disengagement of a lock, Indiana Jones stepped back into his abode to the sight of his babysitter and his daughter sitting peacefully on the couch, reading.

"Wow. You warmed up fast," Indiana commented, keeping the door open behind him as he reached into his pocket.

Marion looked up from the book as Anna abandoned her, flying over to her father for a hug, "She's really energetic."

"That's one word for it," Indiana said as he welcomed Anna with an arm, "Your dad's waiting for you in the car. Here, let me pay you your due..."

The man procured three gold coins. Three whole dollars! Marion's eyes lit up as she greedily snatched the change away, "Thanks, mister!"

Indiana gave a nod, "Have a good evening, kid. See you Wednesday."

"Bye, Mr Jones!" Marion waved, barely remembering to pick up her book and school bag before sprinting out the door with a wave.

Abner Ravenwood smiled as his daughter piled into the car next to him, "Looks like it went well?"

"Sure did!" Marion said enthusiastically, holding her money to the light with a wide grin on her face.

"You're a very mature young woman, Marion! Very brave and disciplined to undertake such a task at your age. You must have been raised well," Ravenwood said with a grin as he put the car in gear and left the curb. As he glanced towards his daughter - and particularly her clothes - his smile rapidly disappeared, "Good heavens, Marion! What on earth happened to your skirt?"

Marion looked down, wide-eyed. Giant, open cotton scars had been left by the branches of the tree. Swallowing, she looked between the coins and her father's shocked expression, "...Uh, Dad? How much does it cost to buy a new skirt?"

Author's Note

A bit of a collection of vignettes here.

Yes, Marion and Indy's age gap is canonically that wide. Funny how meeting under different contexts can change your views on someone, huh?