#Indiana jones and the temple of the forbidden eye | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obislittleone · 1 year

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Temple of the Forbidden Eye (3)

Indiana Jones x OC

Series Summary: The relationship between student and teacher is strictly professional, or at least it should be. He’s never met his match in archeological intelligence, and if he ever does, it might drive him to do something stupid.

A/n: since indy came out this weekend, here’s a veeeery long chapter to suffice your indy needs

Warnings: oh boy… bullying, good ol’ fashioned misogyny, mentions of past abuse, mentions of blood and bruises (not explicitly), like.. one swear word.

(Co-written by the lovely @theatrelove3000 you guys should go give her a follow)

The late night work became a regular occurrence, along with her occupying the guest room for those nights. She was always gone when Dr. Jones woke up. It concerned him at first, but he figured she just didn't want to be a burden, not that she ever was. The more time he spent around her, the more it became obvious to him that she tried her best to take up as little space as she possibly could.

Since her presence in his home became a regular event, he started keeping food stocked. He made it very clear that he did it for her benefit and she was welcome to anything he has. This led to her making dinner for the both of them often while they worked. He would bring whatever they had been working on with him and set it up on the breakfast counter connected to the rest of his kitchen. She would read between steps or they'd talk about whatever the work was. He came to enjoy these times, even if it was only subconsciously.

Of course, spending as much time with him as she was, it was bound to come back around to bite her. The rumors started relatively quickly. She was able to handle rumors; they'd unfortunately been a major part of her life growing up, and mostly just drew attention from those stupid enough to believe them. That didn't mean she enjoyed the staring, though. She much preferred when she was more or less invisible to her peers and professors. She knew they looked before, that was fine. They were surprised to see a woman in their fancy, expensive classes, let alone one who wears trousers. She didn't mind those looks. Those looks at least were respectful enough to look away when she caught them. Those looks were only because they were shocked to have seen something of her nature…

Now, it's different. Now, they don't look away when she sees them looking. Instead, they throw daggers with their eyes and whisper to each other as she passes. She has had things like this happen before but never for her own decisions. It is different when one makes the choice to continue doing the thing everyone is gossiping about. It made everything more… obvious to her.

Scarlet was many things; traits that she knew she had and traits that people who she entrusted told her she had. Paranoid was not on the list of said traits. She had never had a reason to be paranoid. Perhaps she did now. Jealousy can make a person do terrible things, especially when the person believes they are more entitled to whatever the object of their envy has. Boys don’t like when they are shown up by girls who are supposedly smarter than they are. Little rich boys hate it more than anything else in the world.

The twenty-some year old college goers who sat in front of and across her in Professor Jones’ class, only looking behind or to the side of them when he called on her for every question he asked the students. She was smart, but they all had reason to believe he was favoring her over one thing. Her good looks and time available after school. Everyone had heard about their little arrangement, with her as his ‘apprentice’ though she had never done any work in the field. It all seemed too suspicious for a young girl to be residing at her Professor’s home every other day. Her test scores didn’t lie, but the boys in the class did not exactly have access to those. They only saw what was right in front of their eyes, and it looked to them like a scandal. Teacher’s pet, the favorite of them all. She had what they couldn’t have. They couldn’t possibly look at their own merit and decide that it was the real reason for their lacking, so they insisted it must be the fact that she was getting special attention.

There were two boys in particular, that were especially miffed about her enhanced situation. They had discussed it with one another and took it upon themselves to be the voice of reason, deciding it would be best if she were brought down a few pegs. Just enough to be sure that she wouldn’t feel as high and mighty anymore.

They waited by the glass case of school awards in the hallway closest to Professor Jones’ classroom, pretending to be in full conversation whilst their colleagues walked by. Some of them entered the class, completely unaware of what the foolish boys planned to do.

Down the hall came Scarlet Ledger, accompanied by none other than Henry Jones. No other heads were turned as they walked, however, for it was a rather busy time of day, and the students were more focussed on getting to their next class, rather than who they saw in the way of their destination. Last night, they had gone over a series of notes from an old friend of his, who was unable to finish an expedition on an artifact he’d spent years preparing to find. Having received the journals and maps from the retired associate was like being handed the answers to a test. It was all there, and all he had to do now was go out and find it. She had been helping him to figure out the little details, and now the discussion was if she would be joining him or not on this wild endeavor. He, of course, claimed it was too dangerous for a first timer to be brought along on such an elaborate journey.

“You should start with something more local, like I did,” he turned to her, trying to convey that he did not think her unable, but only inexperienced in the field thus far to take on something so big.

“It’s not like I’m going alone,” she replied with a small laugh. He made it sound like she would be single handedly making the trek to the treasure. It was a silly notion to think that he was so worried, when he himself was running point on the entire thing. “Not to overestimate you Professor Jones, but I believe you have the ability to defend me if the need should arise. Not that I think it will, I’ll only be assisting you when needed, hence the title of ‘Apprentice.’”

His chuckle was combated by the shake of his head. He knew that eventually he would be giving in to her, because she had this trait of arguing, and just plainly talking her way into something she hadn’t been a part of before. It was often infuriating, but he never walked away from a challenge, even one he knew there was no chance of winning.

“We’ll talk more after school,” he said, temporarily ending the conversation and walking ahead of her to his classroom. She stopped in her tracks, smiling like a ten year old school girl that was about to be on summer vacation.

He curved his steps, stepping into the doorway and out of her vision. She usually lingered in the hallway for a few moments, as to avoid the stares when she walked in precisely after he did. It sounded ridiculous that she would even make such efforts, but she made the decision consciously, and it often worked.

She kicked her heels over the ground and clutched her books tightly to her chest, wandering about for a few seconds more. She took steps towards the door, but collided with two young men, and had to back away quickly.

“I’m so sorry,” she looked to the floor, where one of the boy’s papers had been dropped. She knelt quickly and grabbed them before the breezy open hallway could send them fluttering about. She stood back up to face them with a smile, handing the shorter boy his papers back. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m afraid I’m a bit clumsier than usual.”

They didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at her. Strange boys, she thought. She attempted to simply nod and pass around them, but the taller one blocked her way, making himself like a brick wall between her and her favorite class.

“Pardon me,” she said sweetly, trying once more to walk around him but failing to do so when the other boy decided to also stand in her way. She was peeved, but wouldn't show it on her face. “Gentlemen, I am very sorry for bumping into you, but I really need to get to my class.”

“Hear that, Jim? She really needs to get to her class,” the taller boy said tauntingly. She furrowed her brow, misunderstanding why they could possibly have the need to bother her at this precise moment. She recognized them, they sat in front and across from her. Shouldn’t they also be running along to be seated in time?

“I think Professor Jones can do without his pet for a few minutes,” the other one spoke with a humorless chuckle. It was clear to her now that they had meant to hold her up, and probably to start a scuffle. These boys were obviously clued into the rumors and false gossip that spread through the halls, but actually having the balls to instigate a fight over it was a rarity.

“Please, if you could just let me pass,” she tried once more to barrel through the small gap between them, but they shoved her back, and she tumbled to the side a little from the force. She readjusted her grip on her books, trying to compose her posture once more. This all seemed so juvenile, like they would be the school bullies on an elementary school playground.

“No, I don’t think I will,” one laughed, taking a step closer to her with crossed arms, the other followed. It was beginning to make her feel uneasy, and her usually confident stature was caving in upon being forced into a corner.

As uneasy as the boys made her, she still tried her best to talk her way out. “Honestly, gentlemen. What are we, children? We all have a class to attend. I doubt you want to be late and risk missing important material.”

“I’ll take my chances,” the taller one said as he took a step closer.

Henry was nothing if not observant, and furthermore, he was intricately observant. When the pair of boys walked into his class three minutes late, along with the fact that his best student was still missing from the crowd, he was able to deduce that something happened in the short time he was separated from her, and it involved the two of them. He didn’t know how, but he was quite sure. It was also notable that the two young men were the ones that sat closest to her in the room. She didn’t have a deskmate, for obvious reasons, so the fact that they were in the near vicinity also made him think that they were involved somehow. She was never late, and she was never one to ditch a class of any kind, much less her favorite.

“Looking for someone?” one of the students asked, clearly referencing the teacher’s pet. It was funny, or at least the rest of the class thought so, breaking into small fits of quiet giggles that filled the classroom. Henry was far from amused, and did not even hesitate to ask about his prized student.

“Has anyone seen Miss Ledger?”

The question reverberated against the walls of the room, and made everyone quiet down. There was a hand that had been raised in the very back, it was the boy who had come in late, and sat directly across from Scarlett on most days. After being pointed at, the boy wore a proud look on his face, the expression was enough to send adrenaline coursing through Henry’s veins.

“I saw her in the hallway only a minute ago. She seemed to be going mad, something about needing to get home so she could find more trousers,” he said, his comedic tone indicating it may have been partially a joke. The classroom again erupted into muffled laughter, but the look on their professor’s face made them straighten up very quickly.

He wasn’t exactly worried over her, per se, but now very paranoid as to what really occurred in that hallway when he had left her there. She wouldn’t just miss a class for the reason of finding a new pair of trousers. She was his most dedicated student, and would walk through hell or high water to be in her seat by the time attendance was taken. It all just seemed too suspicious for his liking, and as annoyed as he was, he heaved a sigh, continuing his class.

“Everyone, pay attention,” he began, droning on all the notes he had prepared with Scarlet the evening before.

She did not leave his mind the entirety of his lesson, which made sense, given half the time he read from the papers, it was her perfect handwriting that was scrawled over the small lines. He was thankful for the release of the bell ringing through everyone’s ears when the hour was over. He only had two classes in the day, and once they were done, he was free to either sit in the Professor’s lounge, or go home. He’d much prefer to go home, considering the circumstances he’d been met with on this particular day. Avoiding the multitudes of female students as he left his office, he nearly ran to his car in the lot, trying his best not to seem like he was in a hurry. The rumors had been heard by his ears, too, and he didn’t want to give anyone fuel for the fire.

He got home fairly quickly, which was all well and good, but the thing was that he didn’t have the slightest clue of what to do with himself once he’d entered his front door. It seemed ridiculous for him to be acting this way, as he wasn’t even sure of what had happened, but he assumed it was nothing good. He tried to calm himself by sitting on the couch in his office, reading over some of the things they’d started marking out for the expedition. He had maybe distracted himself for an hour before his doorbell rang out.

He jumped from his seat, scattering the papers and taking large steps towards the door. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see when he opened the door, but the lovely image of Scarlet Ledger wearing a skirt was not on the list. She had made it more than clear in the time they spent together that she had a distaste for skirts because of some not very fond memories in her youth, and yet here she stood in a fitted tweed skirt that started high on her waist and fell just under her knees. Her sweater was the same cream one that she had been in earlier, but the skirt was not even close to her favorite chocolate brown trousers.

Pants are more comfortable, she always said, and they leave no room for impish schoolboys to mess around and flip them over your head when your back is turned.

His furrowed brows were uncontrollable, and it made her feel even worse about the situation than she already had. His eyes that scanned her up and down about three times more were not because of his dislike, but because of his shock. Truly, this was the last thing he ever thought he’d see her wear.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, a cheerful smile as if nothing had happened that day. “May I come in?”

He shook his head to get rid of the nasty feeling, giving her a tight lip smile that was unconvincing next to the one he always gave her when she first arrived.

“I already started marking out the route on the map,” he said while stepping aside to let her in. Feeling the hem of her skirt brushing against his leg felt so strange, and he wasn’t sure if she was ever going to fess up to the reason why she was wearing it in the first place, but he wouldn’t bother her about it, yet.

“You were supposed to wait for me,” she sighed out, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t paid attention to her words from last night. It had been one of the things she was most excited about. The location had been found, but it was the journey to said location that would hold all the fun that was finding such an artifact.

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

At this she stopped, turning around and nervously looking him over. It didn’t seem like he knew anything, but she had to be sure.

“I always come after school,” she murmured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well sure, but when you didn’t show up to class, I had my doubts that you’d show up here,” he was nonchalant, but something inside him was irritated. That way she was so perfectly calm, much less while wearing a skirt. She didn’t seem to have any problem in the facts of her absence, and acted as though it never happened at all. “Speaking of which, I’d like to know why you missed my class?”

She stood awkwardly with her hands folded behind her back. She seemed very stiff, and he figured it must be the effects of her wearing the skirt. She seemed far less confident, boreline uncomfortable, which never happened in his presence. He’d made it clear what he thinks of her, and she’d never felt the need to mask her personality, nor her spunky attitude.

“Oh? Yes, I’m sorry to have worried you,” she paused, straightening up slightly before looking him in the eye as she lied to his face. “I was lingering in the hallway, and felt a bit nauseous, so I decided to stand outside for a minute. Unfortunately, there was a bump in the doorstep that I hadn’t seen before… I fell down and scuffed up my trousers, so I went home to change before walking here.”

The look of utter ‘this is horseshit’ on his face when she finished speaking was so evident, she had to look away in order to prevent herself from faltering. Truth be told, the thing he found most amusing was just how rehearsed the story had sounded. It was so well gone over in her head, and he could hear it in the evened spaces of her words.

“Is that the story you’re sticking with?” he tilted his head with an unconvinced expression.

She stopped for a second to think about her response, because clearly he wasn’t buying into any of this. She knew he wouldn’t, but the truth was far more embarrassing and she’d rather not have to retell the events of which she fell into this afternoon.

“It’s the one I have decided on, yes," she turns back to walk towards his office, choosing not to elaborate further. She decided that her response was good enough, and continued as if she wasn’t being incredibly vague and unconvincing.

He would get to the bottom of it, but if she was this defensive over what had happened, he would need to let her become comfortable again. She looked so out of place in a home she had resided in more than her own.

As they got started, he neglected to mention anything about the incident. He joined in the act of pretending all was well, but it didn’t settle her like he thought it might. As the night went on, she perhaps got even more tense than she was when she had arrived.

He watched her as she sat, decidedly uncomfortable in her attire. Her posture was not nearly as good as it normally was. Even when she is half asleep, she sits straight as an arrow, as if a string had been pulled through the entirety of her spine and was holding her up. Her shoulders were always back. It was so natural for her, that normally he would have thought a slumped and curved position was not possible.

Looking at her now, the best way he could describe her stature would be curled. She was curled in on herself. As though she was hiding, or protecting herself from something. It almost appeared that she was trying to shrink in on her already small form.

“Are you ready to talk about it now, or should I wait a little longer and make you a cup of tea?” Professor Jones tries his best to make his voice light and teasing, but the smile he has that often makes her grin back doesn’t even cause a twitch of her lips. Strange. She barely even glanced at him.

“Talk about what?” She just opens the file in front of her and starts to flip through it. She was clearly going to try and sweep it under the rug. He decided to let it go for now, hoping the work will distract them both enough to get back to normal. That is, until she shifts slightly and her skirt rides up her leg. Even through her stockings, he can see the bruise blossoming. Her knee was also partially skinned, the dried red that would become slightly scared was evident.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” he closed his book and tossed it aside, uncaring where it landed for the moment. “I was going to let it go, but now I can’t. What actually happened? And don't give me the ‘I tripped’ story again. You don’t get bruises on your lower thigh from tripping on a doorstep.”

Her face froze, and she shifted her skirt down to cover her knees again. It was too late to make up another story on the spot, not one convincing enough anyway. The best one she had come up with was the one he’d seen through the entire time. She sighed out and dropped her eyes to her hands. Her pride kept her from admitting what happened, because in her mind, nothing was more embarrassing than being treated the way she was for such unjustifiable reasons. She trusted her Professor, and he made her feel safe, but this was different. It concerned him.

Neither one of them had spoken about the circulating rumors, just let them hang in the air and ignored the stares from people as they walked by. Confronting the gossip meant that things might change, and she didn’t want them to. She was perfectly fine with the after school arrangement, the late nights that were ever so productive.

“There were two boys in the hallway that blocked me from getting to class,” she began, still looking down, and missing as his fist clenched against his palm. He knew those boys were up to no good, he’d been able to tell just by the way they walked in. “They shoved me into a corner and tried to get me to admit to… something. I denied it and they got upset, so they grabbed me by my pockets and tossed me to the ground. My trousers had gotten completely torn, and my leg was scuffed up, too.”

She rushed out the last of the words, and had to slowly even her breath so she wouldn’t cry. She’d cried her entire walk home, and decided after she changed that she wouldn’t cry over it again. It wasn’t like her to be so offended, but the things they said hurt more than the bruises and scrapes. She’d try and avoid telling him if she could, but of course, his curiosities were ever present.

“What did they try to get you to admit? You haven’t killed anyone, have you?” He said, his humor entering the scene even in this moment which was serious. She huffed a small laugh, feeling a bit better as she prepared herself for this next step. She needed to choose her words carefully, because what she said now would determine how things would go for the next several months.

“Professor, I think you may have been hearing rumors at school lately, ones concerning you and I,” she said slowly, watching for his reaction and eventually receiving a nod from him. Of course he’d heard the rumors, everyone had. She was surprised that the entire University faculty and staff hadn’t heard by now. “My classmates are convinced that because of such things that I am receiving special treatment.”

“You are receiving special treatment,” he reasoned, but she shook her head, and he gestured for her to continue.

“Not for doing the things they think I am,” she let out, the first tear escaping her eye, marking out a path on her cheek and dropping down to bleed a small stain onto her shirt. After that, more started following, and she couldn’t hold the choked sounds out of her voice any longer, either. “I have been called a lot of things in my life, most I can take, but for boys who claim to be gentlemen to corner me in a hallway and accuse me of prostituting myself for grades before throwing me down and calling me a whore is probably one of the worst feelings I’ve ever felt in my life.”

She instinctively did what she’d always done as a child. She sought comfort from outer warmth, from being touched. She wrapped her arms around herself and brought her knees to her chest, laying her chin atop her arms and closing her eyes tightly. She hated that she was breaking down here, in one of the only places she could seek comfort in, but thinking back to her horrible experience, and thinking that there could be plenty more ahead waiting for her was suffocating. She couldn’t help how pathetic she looked or sounded, though she’d like to bet she’ll regret it later.

She heard shifting in the room, and felt a dip in the couch beside her. She looked up to meet his eyes, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, using the other to take his glasses off and set them on the table. She had seen him without them before, as he usually discarded them when he grew tired, but she’d never been so close up to really see what he looked like without them. He looked younger, boyishly handsome.

“I’m sorry,” he was so soft spoken, and his eyes held so much compassion. He was a man in this field. He’d never had to deal with anything of this sort in his life, so he could never understand how devastating it must be to commit yourself to your studies and be treated like there was some ulterior motive, simply because of gender. He would never know how it feels to be called such things or be bullied over stupid jealousies. “I’ll make sure they get what they’re owed, alright?”

Immediately she turned to him with wide teary eyes, shaking her head rapidly. “No, please. If you involve yourself, It will only look worse.”

“I can’t just let it go. This is far more serious than you seem to be grasping-"

"Professor, I understand perfectly fine!"

"No, Scarlet, you clearly don't. What they did was wrong, no matter what reason they had," he pushes past the fact that he just called her by her first name. In every closeness they had by now achieved, that had been a line which wasn’t crossed until this moment.

His assertive tone made her straighten up her spine, and she forced onto her face a look of indifference. She knew he was only trying to help, but she would not let this get out of hand. She already earned a bad reputation on account of nothing but good natured studying and commitment to her field, and she would at some point have to draw the line as to where she stood in all of this.

“Professor Jones, I must insist that you do not say anything to the young men in your class. As much as I appreciate your willingness to help my case, I think it would be a bad idea to let you defend me, now.”

He seemed peeved, but not completely annoyed. Curious as he was to her reasoning, he felt it ridiculous to neglect his attempts. Why would she push away someone who was trying to help her?

“And why is that?”

She had to take a deep inhale in order to look him in the eye when she spoke her next words.

“Because they expect you to,” she was trying to convey the unspoken words to him as appropriately as possible, but of course, Henry was never as lady-like.

“Because they think we’re sleeping together.”

Well, bingo. He’d hit it right on the nose, and she had to duck her head to hide her flushed cheeks from his stone gaze. “Yes, that would be why.”

He sat back in his seat, looking at other objects in the room, and hoping they would help him to think about a solution. He couldn’t help but feel like this was a rather out of his hands situation. The students of his class had made up their minds about her, but maybe he could change that. Perhaps, he could expose the boys for their actions without calling on them directly.

“But we aren’t sleeping together.”

“No. We are not.” She tries hard to keep her voice level, though he can hear the slight catch in it. She’s still trying to hold back tears.

Henry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look,” he starts, “it’s one thing to be accused of something you aren’t doing when it’s only rumors. They crossed a line when they approached you physically, and there has to be a way to address it.”

Again, she looked scared, or at least rather uncomfortable with his suggestion. He hadn’t been finished though, and held up his hand to allow room to continue.

“I have a friend in the office who owes me a favor. He might be able to address them without anyone else knowing about it, or that you ever told me anything.”

This, she decided, was a solution worth trying for. Her subtle nod made him quirk a small smile from the corner of his mouth. He nodded once too, and squeezed her shoulder as he leaned further back into the couch. She had begun relaxing immediately after that, and he felt he’d done something right in all this.

She was only to be his student, but he could not deny he wanted to protect her from such things as these. He’s not always the kindest hearted person in the world, but he felt that perhaps he may have done the same for another girl in his class, as it was simply the right thing to do. He wasn’t so sure, though, that he would be so gentle and tender around her like he was now with Scarlett. He tread so delicately, because God help him, he cared so much about how she reacted to things. His attachment to what was only supposed to be his student had far surpassed what should be considered normal.

Never before had he ever had a ‘teacher’s pet’ or a ‘professor’s lackey’, but it was plain as day to anyone, now. Scarlett Ledger was his favorite student.

“Thank you,” she started smiling at him, now knowing that her reputation would not be further damaged, and her assaulters would receive punishment. There was also another reason. “For helping me.”

“It’s no problem. What they did is not acceptable from anyone in my class, their actions will have consequences.”

They settled it there, and continued on with the work being done. Papers littered the floor an hour later as they worked, and though the hour was late, there was still so much to be done before the expedition took place. The question of her going still hung in the balance, and she had hoped that with all the work and time she had devoted, and perhaps a bit of Henry’s guilt from this situation being caused, he would allow her to join him.

He had been sat on the floor by now, handing papers and notes he’d written down to her where she sat on the couch, but as he went over some journal entries of the dear friend of his that handed this adventure over to him, he neglected to realize that the soft shuffle of papers behind him, along with the quiet sound of a pencil moving had ceased. When he finished with the journal entry, he had marked the lines he had wanted her to see and was about to hand it over… but when he turned around, Scarlett had fallen into a restful sleep. Her head laid on the arm of the couch, and her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm without a blanket.

He knew that in the groove he fell into that he wouldn’t be able to sleep for several more hours, but he didn’t want to just leave her on the couch in his office as he ruffled about his work when there was a perfectly comfortable and warm bed in his spare room. Normally, he would wake her, have her walk to the room herself and ready for the night… but she had gone through a hard day, and this was the first time since this morning that he had truly seen her relaxed. It would be just cruel to make her leave her state of slumber when he was very capable of just transporting her himself.

He sighed and stood up, careful when he lifted her from the couch, and trying his best not to crash into anything or trip over the items on the floor when he moved between rooms. Thankfully, he made it safely into the spare room with little to no obstacles, and set her on the bed as gently as he could. He rid her of the shoes she wore before tucking her in beneath the sheets and duvet that used to remain untouched until her nighttime stays. She turned her head on the pillow, her brow furrowing a small bit when she faced him. He hoped she hadn’t woken up, otherwise he just spent meticulous time in carrying her all for nothing. She took in a deep breath before releasing it, and her face returned to normal. Her expression was bliss, and he found himself staring for longer than he would care to admit.

Standing here, a thought entered and left his mind in a fleeting manner. It simply came, and went… but caused him to think more. The thought in question? She’s so beautiful. It would bury him, that thought. He begged his mind to never think it again, but on that tangent, a whole new slew of thoughts along those lines began to pile in his head like dug up dirt.

He needed to leave the room, that would help.

“You’re gonna get me in some real trouble, kid.”

He walked out and back to his office, continuing to study his work, but finding that he retained no information on the account of his racing thoughts yet again. He sat back and raked a hand through his hair and down over his face before leaning forward to try and perhaps balance out all these intrusive thoughts with things he found annoying. He started with just a few things he often found to be peeving or invasive: She nags at him about the temperature he keeps his home, finding it too difficult to focus if she’s cold. She is constantly telling him how bad his handwriting is, hoping he will make an effort to write more legibly for her own sake. She reorganizes his work often, and it bothers him that he can’t find anything afterwards without her help. She raided his kitchen the first day she arrived, and mocked his eating habits while doing so… but in all fairness, she did make dinner and stop the work to allow time to eat. She had also been the one to help him arrange lessons when he was falling behind from other work. She was there to talk with him when he’d been stressed about the day from the events that occured. She was-

It was right then that he realized how truly and downright domestic their relationship had become. It washed over him in the most uncomfortable way, and clung to him like wet clothes on your back. He tossed the paper in his other hand to the floor and tried his best to make sense of any of it… but whenever he thought he was getting close to an answer it returned to bite him in the ass through a new slew of questions.

This type of thinking was dangerous. They had crossed so many lines that should never have been crossed without even realizing. He hadn’t wanted to believe there would ever be any weight to the rumors at the University, but sitting here alone in this room, having just tucked Scarlett into bed one room over, he suddenly felt completely and totally wrecked.

Tags:

@justanothersadperson93 @sparklytoaster @silverose365

#indiana jones x oc #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #henry jones #harrison ford #the dial of destiny #disneyland #temple of the forbidden eye #Indiana jones adventure

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obislittleone · 2 years

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Temple of the Forbidden Eye (2)

Indiana Jones x OC

A/n: The amount of people who actually read the first chapter veery much surprised me because Indy barely gets enough love anymore but bro I’m so happy y’all liked it and I love this man so I will fr try and update this more often.

Warnings: i don’t even know what counts as a warning for this series tbh… old fashioned ways of thinking i suppose??

(Co-written by the lovely @theatrelove3000 you guys should go give her a follow)

There was a warm wind that swept through her hair as she rounded the corner of the block. She looked back down at her note, tucked into the top of her book. This was in fact the correct street, but it looked so different than how she imagined. Her old mentor described the great Indiana Jones as the world’s most accomplished archeologist, and for all the daring and adventurous stories she’d been told, she couldn’t possibly imagine him living in a quaint neighborhood like this, all lined with picket fences and well maintained front lawns.

She read the mailboxes, seeing the iron letters hanging on each one, signifying each house’s address, finding the one next to the end of the cul-de-sac and checking the small paper slip once more to confirm that this was the right house. It was older looking, more warm and inviting than the others. It didn’t appear as perfectly manicured as the other cookie cutter houses. It looked lived in. Like a home. the corners of the walls had chipped paint, and water lines from rain.

Class today had gone the same as always, her professor hadn’t even stopped her on the way out, or in the hall as he was leaving the building. It was just another day for him, as it should be for her. She couldn’t help her nerves though, as she strode up to the front door, ready to knock. Hesitation was only momentary, as a deep breath was inhaled, and she laid three firm raps on the door.

While waiting for the occupant of the house to open said door, she turned and looked around her on the porch. There were some interesting looking plants that she didn’t recognize as being from this country, or any she’d heard of thus far. They must be exotic, small reminders of his work in the field. She smiled at the thought of his worldly travels, it all seemed so exciting, and she was enthralled to one day embark on such journeys.

Her head whipped back to the door as the old creaking hinges brought her back to reality. Still nervous, she was smiling wide, but her hands were shaking. Calm down, she had to think to herself. This is just a part of your work.

“Hi,” she said in a released breath, holding her hands together to quell their rapid movements. He gave a slight chuckle and smirked. She seemed far less confident here than in the classroom setting. Maybe when she was there she felt the need to prove herself. “I hope I’m not too late, I got a bit lost on the way.”

“You walked here?” he tilted his head, looking around behind her to see if there was at least someone to drop her off. Not a car in sight, or even another person for that matter. She was completely alone… which to him didn’t seem quite safe.

“Yes, I like walking places,” she mentally cursed herself for such a stupid sentence to come from her lips. She had been working for years to get here, she’d hoped it all wouldn’t be ruined by a few airheaded remarks. Professor Jones did not share the sentiment. Though he thought it sweet and endearing that she enjoyed something so simple as taking walks, he also saw the signs of her nerves the second he opened the door, and figured she’d be more calm once the work began inside.

“Well, you’re not late at all, in fact,” he held the door open for her to follow him in, shutting it behind her when her feet were on the hardwood floors. You took a moment to look around the entranceway before he stepped forward. “I just got everything set up in the office.”

You looked at the unique pieces in his living room, all from different cultures and dynasties. They were very interesting, but you noted that not one piece in the room was real, only a copy of something he had found in the past. He believed that all precious artifacts belonged in a museum, and he’d be damned if he went along in hypocrisy and kept a rare treasure for himself. That wasn’t part of his job, he didn’t take trophies.

“See something you like?” he noticed her slowing down behind him, only turning when in his peripheral she wasn’t there. He took in her studious look of curiosity, watching as she gazed from one item to another. “Bet you can’t tell which one is real.”

She looked at him with a surprised look. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Of all the days in her life to be flustered and speechless, this should not have been the day. She opted instead not to say a word, but to close her mouth and get closer to the pieces in the room. All she had to do was take into account one thing, and then she was sure.

“This map,” she pointed to it on the encasing table in the corner of the room, turning back to him with a straight face.

He nodded, seemingly impressed with how quickly she figured it out. Perhaps she had been earlier trained in detecting markings on old parchment, or maybe she’d learned how to differentiate aged ink from reprinting, she may have possibly even known the map from-

“It wasn’t that hard, it’s the only thing in here covered in glass.”

Well, so much for that. He supposed deductive reasoning was also a good skill, and she was quick on her heels to notice it so fast. He chuckled, smiling genuinely at her now confident and forward demeanor. She was very sure of herself, almost like that of his colleagues.

“Huh,” he shook his head, letting whatever thought that entered his mind to pass when he did. It wasn’t a bad thought, a very true one, actually. She used common sense to do something that every other student in his classroom would take hours to figure out. She was intelligent in her studies, but she was also just smart. Possibly a gifted mind like his. He hoped he’d soon unravel all her hidden talents and abilities, as he knew she was already more than just a student in his class. She was dedicated, and confident in her studies like no other boy in his class had ever been.

“Something wrong?” She asked, her head tilted slightly as her brows furrowed in confusion. She didn’t know if he was impressed, or if she had upset him in some way. She knew better than to speak so plainly with a man in this field, but she couldn’t help but feel more comfortable to do so around his presence. The others would shoot her down, remind her of her place, but he had encouraged her, so why shouldn’t she?

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he shook his head, not sure if he should explain himself or not. It didn’t seem that important, and there was work to be done, so he continued down the hall again, calling out for her to come with him. “Follow me.”

As soon as she entered the room she was filled with a ghastly surprise. The sacred office and workspace of the great Indiana Jones, where he conducted business as well as studied ancient artifacts… was a complete mess. Papers in stacks all across the room, with folders opened to random pages and thrown half-hazardly in different spots. There were even large books, the texts in which broke down great historical landmarks, maps, and hidden treasures of the world. There wasn’t exactly a pattern to which they had been pulled from the shelves, as they didn’t seem to connect with one another at all.

Her face scrunched up with slight disgust, not expecting to see that her favorite professor was in fact, a slob.

“The plan is to find my paper on Degas Painting. I’ve already started organizing different reports into separate categories; and I think if we work for a few hours we can make some decent progress on finding it.”

He journeyed further into the room, careful not to step on any papers on the floor. She was still at a loss for words. It was only when he looked up and met her eyes that she had something to say.

“How can you work with such a mess around you?” She laughed, disbelief covered her expression, and he saw her mind turning the gears within her head. What was she thinking about?

“It may look that way to some, but I know where everything is.”

“Except for your paper on Degas Painting.”

Thirteen minutes. He had left her alone to search for only thirteen minutes. There was an important phone call that he simply couldn’t miss, and it lasted for a duration of thirteen minutes. How in that time could she have managed to do this? When he hung up the phone, he walked back into the room, assuming she’d be right where he left her. No, she was not, and how could he have been so foolish as to think that the most intelligent student in his very prestigious class would have sat there clueless without him?

His eyes were wide, and his jaw was nearly slack as he scanned the room. Not only were all the papers filed away in their respective folders, but they were organized on the desk. Every little thing had been put away, he assumed in orderly fashion. Hell, he took a few steps into the room and saw the paper he was looking for laying by itself on the desk. The bolded letters ‘Degas Painting’ in black ink were clear as day. He’d been searching for it for days, going through stacks and stacks of files to try and recover it for his class. He looked up to you in the corner, scanning the bookshelves as you placed books back where they went. The most noticeable thing he saw? His hat had been removed from his desk, and she wore it on her head. He had half a mind to walk across the floor and take it back, without even saying a word.

He wasn’t angry, but somewhat irritated that she’d moved all his things, which he’d spent days looking through. He also found it somewhat annoying that his new apprentice was already better at the job than he was. But she’s never been in the field, he reminds himself.

He huffed a long breath, placing his hands on his hips as he narrowed his eyes at her. She finally turned around, having seen that he came back, and there was a sweet smile laid widely across her face. She was clearly proud of the work she had accomplished, and he’d hate to negate the good work, but there was still the matter of his prized high-crowned sable fedora.

“That’s my hat,” he pointed to it, his tone more firm, but not aggressive. She would moreso describe it as possessive.

She was quick to take it off of her head, holding it gently within her hands in an attempt to ease his mind.

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly felt the need to explain herself, looking around the room in an attempt to avoid looking at him. He got this upset over a hat? “It’s just that, it took up space on the desk, and I didn’t really know where to move it.”

He came up to where she stood, snatching away the hat and placing it on his own head. It wasn’t done spitefully, in fact, she almost laughed at the comedic way he adjusted it after. He must really like his hat, it seemed like his most important possession. He wore it well, she noted that right away.

“You found the paper,” he crossed his arms, nodding slightly to her in thanks, but not giving too much recognition away. “And you cleaned my office.”

She wasn’t sure if he was still upset about the hat, or if he was genuinely offended by the fact that she had gone outside of her instruction and done what she wanted. She’d hoped he might be pleased with her efforts, but of course, she was probably just assuming too much of her favorite professor… again.

“I promise I put everything away as it was organized, I even put the books back in alphabetical order,” She defended, walking two steps back to the bookshelf and letting him see for himself. This was the best his office had looked in years, with everything being in perfect order like he’d never gotten around to maintaining it before. “I’m sorry that I didn’t ask, I just thought that it might be easier for you-”

“You did good, kid,” he smirked, getting her to stop her mindless rambling. His small nod of approval made her smile, her nerves fading away again as her chest filled with pride.

He thought she had done good, and with that she was pleased.

The small sofa against the wall of his office was practically sunken in by how long the weight had been placed upon the cushions. It had been many, many hours since they sat down to go through the paper and yet neither of them seemed to notice. The sun had gone down ages ago and they had needed to turn on lamps to continue.

At some point in the evening, she had gotten hungry. When she asked if he had something to eat, he responded, "I eat when the work is done." Which… wasn't very comforting as given the state of his office when she arrived, he was clearly never 'done working.'

Professor Jones had given her permission to go check his kitchen to find some food, but his kitchen was arguably worse than his office. It was perfectly clean, that wasn't the problem. The problem was the lack of food he has. He has a total of three cans of soup, one half of a loaf of sliced bread and a jar of peanut butter.

"Professor?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, not looking up, though she required his attention.

"Are you dead? Or… undead or something?"

That got his attention, "Um… what?"

"Undead. Are you actually alive?"

Doctor Jones was genuinely baffled for a second or two. He’d been surprised by her antics nearly all day, and yet, there was still more to her that came with every word she said. Her joking tone obviously indicated she was mocking him for something, but he was unsure of the reason this time around.

"You're not making any sense,” he paused, finally glancing up from his work to respond with effort. “What are you even talking about?" He sounds a little annoyed now..

"You have nothing to eat," she says, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen. She was sure he’d known this, or at least hoped he did, otherwise her jokes of the ‘undead professor’ may not seem so far-fetched.

"Sure I do."

Lies. She searched high and low in every cabinet and corner of that kitchen. It wasn’t hard to deduce that there wasn’t anything there. It was quite clear to anyone with a half decent set of eyes.

"No, actually… You don't. You don't have any food. So are you?"

He rolled his eyes, but knew she was probably right. He never went into that kitchen, and barely even remembered to shop for food on a regular basis. He’d always get food from the cafeteria of the University, or better yet, any new place he found on the walk home that looked suitable to his picky taste.

"Miss Ledger-"

"I know that you said you don't eat until the work is done, but based on the state of your kitchen, I'm assuming that you just don't eat… Ever," she crossed her arms, trying to think of how he could possibly get along on his own. He didn’t seem to be married, or have a roommate, and she highly doubted he found himself in the company of his peers while at home.

He huffed a bit and tossed the paper on the coffee table in front of him. He looks over at Scarlett, watching her for a moment. She's more… for lack of a better word, mouthy than most women he's met. It's actually nice. Refreshing, even. Not even the male students he's worked with would speak to him like this. It's clear that she knows her value and is happy to be herself, even around authority. Though sometimes annoying, especially right now, he would do his best to encourage that the attitude stays the same, as it would do well for her if she were to continue in this industry.

"Yes, I do eat. No, I'm not an undead individual. More often than not, I get food in a restaurant or at school. I don't go shopping for it very often," His tone is calm, though dripping with sarcasm at the beginning, "If you are that hungry, I can go get something, but I'm about ninety percent sure there is at least a can of soup in there."

"So you only eat soup when you're at home?"

It was funny to try and imagine him, the world renowned Professor Jones, hovering over a small pot at the stove whilst he stirred a batch of soup from a can in his pantry. She didn’t know why, but it amused her.

"Or a sandwich."

"Yes, because that's so much better," Her tone matched his, impressing him yet again. There were few people in the world that could keep up with his wit and never-ending sarcasm. She reminded him of himself, so much it almost frightened him.

He sighed a little. Dropping his head to hide the smile, he shakes his head slightly. "I'll eat if you make enough for both of us, since it bothers you so much."

She was almost satisfied… but there was still one fact of the matter that continued to reign true.

"That still leaves the problem of you having no food," her pointed look was enough to make him smirk. He really was impressed with her demeanor. She was relentless, now that she’d been given his approval. He wondered if she would be so forward now, if he had been so reassuring to her efforts before.

"Just make the soup, there's enough in there. I know that for a fact."

She huffs and turns on her heel, calling over her shoulder, "fine. But I'm going to make you go grocery shopping so you have at least something with protein to eat."

He laughs quietly, going back to his work. When she returns, she has a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a piece of bread for each of them. They continue to work while they eat, and though the silence is deafening, it’s comfortable, and welcomed.

A few hours later, he catches a movement out of the corner of his eye. She was resting with her head in her hand, arm propped up on the back of the sofa. He turns back to the paper but she moves again. He turns to look at her fully this time and notices her eyes are half closed. Interesting. The movement he was seeing was her nodding off and waking herself back up. He wondered if he had kept her for too long, or if she might be upset that there was so much work to be done. He thought about how dedicated she was, though, and knew she was probably just tired from a long day of work.

Turning back to look at the clock across the room, he realized what time it was. As he went to wake her up, he remembered that she had walked there. He may live in a better neighborhood but that didn’t mean it was safe for a young woman to walk alone at night, and he didn’t have a clue as to where she might live. After thinking about his options for a moment, and taking stock of his own wakefulness, he decided that it was too late for him to drive her home. He set the papers he was holding down, and leaned over to take the ones she had out of her hand. The feeling of papers falling woke her again and she tried to tighten her hold on them, but they were already in her professor's grasp.

“I have a guest room. I’ll walk you up there. Do you need something more comfortable to sleep in?” His voice sounded raspy and tired, even to his own ears. His offer was rushed out, and hadn’t been thought through completely, but she understood well enough in her dreary state.

“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” She reaches up to rub the sleep out of her eyes, sitting up straight again. The sweet and quiet tone she held was such a contrast to her bellaring complaints of his lack of food from earlier. It made him smile to see yet another side of his favorite student. He’d realized by now that she was.

“You are dozing. It’s too late for me to, in good conscience, allow you to walk home alone and I am not in any state to drive you. You are going to stay here for the night.”

As harsh as it sounded, he was right. It wasn’t safe, nor was it in her best interest to even leave the walls of this house at this hour. She, of course, had other thoughts on the matter, having walked home in far worse conditions before, though it was foolish in anyone’s book.

“Oh- No, Professor, it’s alright. I don't mind going home, I don't want to intrude."

"You aren't intruding. I'm offering,” he insisted, taking the papers she tried to retrieve from the table. It was by far the time to call it a night.

"Professor-" She seemed mildly uncomfortable at his suggestion, though it was more of a demand. He doesn’t want anything from her and she could tell based on his demeanor. He just wanted her to be safe and get a decent night's rest. There was no harm in it by any means, but based on how it might look in the eyes of others, she still had to think it through. These may be modern times but there were societal norms and expectations. A young woman staying the night in her professor’s house would not be considered acceptable by any means.

"Miss Ledger, have you ever heard the phrase 'nothing good ever happens after two a.m.?'" He asked with a slanted look on his face, brows raised in suspicion. He made it up on the spot, but still asked for the heck of it, and to hopefully lead her to agree with him faster.

"No but-"

"In my experience, it's very true. It's now two-thirty.You're staying here,” The tone of finality in his voice was more than clear. He wasn’t going to back down and gave no other option than for her to agree. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing he allowed his best student to walk across town in the middle of the night, while barely keeping her eyes open from the exhaustion that weighed on her shoulders.

She looked at him, then at the clock, and with a heave of her shoulders, she’d decided it was probably best that she stay where it is guaranteed she will be safe. He was renowned worldwide for being a grand explorer, surely he was a better option than the streets after midnight.

“Alright,” she conceded, nodding to him firmly. He noticed she seemed more comfortable now that the subject was put to rest.

“Thank you. I don’t have the energy to argue with you about your own safety right now,” He smiles gently and stands up off the sofa, offering his hand to help her up. His smile, even in her barely awake state of mind, was warm and genuine. She didn’t think he could smile like that, as she’d witnessed too many smirks and side eyes from the man in the last several hours to consider it as a possibility.

She smiled back and took his hand. “To be entirely honest, neither do I.”

That made him grin. He likes her, more than he would care to admit. She not only reminded him of himself, but also offered opposite attributes. He couldn’t wait to work alongside her on a project, for he felt their personalities and skills would compliment the other perfectly.

Gesturing with his arm for her to go first, he let her walk out of his office then led her through the house. He opened the door to the guest bedroom, which she saw was perfectly clean, if not a little dusty. He leaves her for just a moment and comes back with an old shirt and pair of sleep pants he hadn’t worn in a long time. He gives directions to the restroom before bidding her goodnight and heading to bed himself.

When he woke up the next morning, he had hoped to bid her a good day, but the door to the guest room was open, and peeking in, he saw no sign of her, but the bed was perfectly made and the clothes he gave her were folded and sitting on the end. She had even dusted off the surfaces.

He was only slightly upset to find that she had left so early, for the signs of her being there were clear, and he felt he could get accustomed to the look of it.

Tags: @justanothersadperson93 @sparklytoaster

#indiana jones #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones x oc #Temple of the forbidden eye #disneyland #harrison ford

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