INDIANA JONES AND THE KEY OF PANDORA

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Chapter 1 - Don't Stop Believin'

Just a small town girl/living in a lonely world/she took the midnight train/going anywhere

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Henry (Indiana) Jones II's POV

I glanced up at the clock in my office. It was ten minutes until five o'clock, the time I would be packing up and heading home. Good. Marking homework was boring.

It was September 27th, 1957. Just one month after I had gone on my amazing trip to Akator and met my son Henry. Er, Mutt. He liked to be called Mutt, but I still called him Henry, just like my father called my Henry when I preferred to be called Indiana. Let me re-do that. Just like my father used to call me Henry. He had passed away, unfortunately.

I was back to teaching archaeology at Marshall College. The students in my class seemed to be rather dull this year, but I was fine with that. Now that Marion and I were married and we had bought a small, two-story house not far from the college, I wanted to settle down and have a quiet life. No more adventures or archaeological digs for me.

I know what you're thinking. Indiana Jones? Giving up? Well, it seems like that, but it makes sense. I'm almost sixty years old. Time for a little rest and relaxation.

So I had made a vow to myself: even if something crazy happens, for example, someone wants me to go and find Noah's Ark, I was going to say no.

Of course, I'm not well known for keeping my promises.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the voices hovering outside of my office door, and I jumped right out of my seat when someone opened it without knocking. Of course, it was my son Henry. I mean Mutt.

"Don't you ever knock?" I mumbled, sitting back down as he strolled into my office like he owned the place. That would be Mutt for you. I had pulled a couple strings at the college when I had gotten back from Akator, and he had been allowed to start taking classes, even though he had dropped out of high school. It hadn't really been a problem, because even though Mutt is a greaser and acts as if he couldn't care less for his education, he's actually really smart. Nonetheless, he doesn't want to go to college. He would much rather be fixing motorcycles.

Mutt sat down in one of the chairs across from my desk and propped his muddy boots on a table. He didn't move them even when I gave him a dirty look. They were the same boots he had worn to Akator.

Mutt and I had different ideas with what we wanted to do with the family. He wanted to keep going on archaeological adventures like I used to; I wanted to stop the craziness. Mutt had confided in me that it seemed strange to him that not even a month ago he was in a room with aliens and crystal skulls and was running from Russians and robbing graves and chasing trains on motorcycles and racing through the jungles of Peru and being bitten by scorpions and... I think you get the point. He finds it strange that he was doing all this so recently and now all of a sudden his greatest adventure is whether or not he can get his homework done on time. No one here knows the things Mutt's been through; to others, he's just another greaser.

A girl followed Mutt through the door, looking around nervously. I recognized her from one of my classes; she was nineteen-year-old Madison Clarke. She just so happens to be one of the few kids who are actually rather intelligent. Sadly, her father is John Clarke. He is one of the most obnoxious men I have ever met; he's a fellow history teacher here at the college.

Madison is a perfect girl. She's got a perfect family, perfect grades, perfect boyfriend, and perfect looks. Nothing is wrong with her life. I don't really mind, though, because she's not snobby. Actually, she's a very humble girl.

I peered at her over the top of my glasses. "What can I help you with, Miss Clarke?" I asked, but she turned to my son instead.

"Mutt, I asked you if you knew an Indiana Jones. Not my professor Henry Jones," she frowned. Mutt grinned.

"This is Indiana Jones, doll," he said.

I nodded. "Indiana is my nickname. Where did you hear it, though? I've asked everyone who knows it to stop calling me Indiana," I said. That had been my first step to trying to have a more 'normal' life: asking people to stop calling me Indy.

Madison raised her eyebrows. "Okay..." she said slowly, sinking down into my other chair and forgetting to answer my question. She looked a little bit confused. I watched Mutt out of the corner of my eye; he was checking Madison out, but I didn't think much of it. He was a greaser, and she was a preppy.

As I said, Madison was a perfect child. And that means she was a preppy. Greasers weren't perfect; they were rebels. But lettermen (or as Mutt and I said, preppies) were anything but rebels. Madison wore pink poodle skirts and white blouses that were too tight, and her perfectly curly brown hair reached her shoulders. Her skin was porcelain and acne-free, and she had warm chocolate eyes. I could tell Mutt thought she was hot, but I knew he would never think about her ever again once she was out of the room. She was just another preppy; not the type of girl Mutt goes for. Nothing was different or special between her and other normal girls.

I asked Madison what I could help her with again. She took a deep breath, as if whatever it was she was about to say was hard for her.

"I was sitting at home, alone, when I got a telephone call from my uncle Jeff. He sounded really panicked and worried over the phone, and told me that -" she stopped and looked pointedly at Mutt, who was examining his hands with interest. "Well, my uncle said I could only tell Indiana Jones. No one else."

I laced my fingers together and looked at her over the top of my fingertips. "You can tell Mutt, Miss Clarke. He's my son, and although it doesn't seem like it he's perfectly trustworthy," I explained.

"What?" Mutt said, sitting bolt upright. I rolled my eyes. He only ever pays attention when something has to do with him.

"He's your son?" Madison asked in disbelief, to which I nodded. She frowned. "I don't know... I guess if he's your son, then it's fine. But you have to promise not to mention this to anyone," she said. Mutt shrugged, telling her that mum was the word.

"Alright then," she started. "So, um, I got this phone call from my uncle. It sounded like he was struggling with someone on the other end of the line, and he told me that it was a matter of life and death," she sighed, and rubbed her hands together.

I sat up straighter and took my glasses off, laying them on my desk. "What was the name of your uncle again?" I asked. "Is his surname Clarke?"

Madison nodded. "Yeah. He's my father's brother. Jeff Clarke. He's an archaeologist. Maybe he knows you," she shrugged.

I nodded. "Yes, he's one of my good friends. Now continue your story, Miss Clarke."

"Right. So... when I was younger, he gave me this... this key." She pulled out a bundle of cloth from inside the folds of her skirt, and set it on my desk. I unwrapped it and held it up to the light so I could see it better. It was a large key; the same size as my hand. The metal it was made of was rusting and brown, and the end of the key was bent. Carved into it were ancient Greek letters that I couldn't read because of the rust. The key was obviously thousands of years old.

Madison continued, "he gave it to me when I was five years old, and told me never to lose it. I kept it in a shoebox in the bottom of my closet, and I haven't even thought about it until today. When Jeff called, he told me to bring this key straight to Indiana Jones, and he said that Indiana would know what to do with it."

The distraught girl took a breath. "Then someone with a Russian accent got hold of the phone, and told me that I was to give the key to three men who were coming to my house. He hung up just as someone broke down my front door, and I scrambled upstairs to grab they key. These three Russians came bounding up the stairs after me, and I hit one over the head with a vase, and knocked him out cold. I tricked another into jumping out the window, and the last man and I had a fight for the key, which I won. I came straight here after that, when I realised I might be in danger," she finished.

"I'm afraid you're right, Madison. You are in danger," I said grimly.

"Whoo! More Russians!" Mutt cried out, jumping up and pumping his fists in the air. He sat down and muttered an apology when Madison looked at him queerly.

Mutt's outburst made me realise something. By helping Madison and her uncle, I would be taking part in another adventure. And I had told myself I wouldn't do anything more like this...

Screw it. I was Indiana Jones, not Henry Jones II. There was no way I wasn't going to help this girl.

Mutt must have seen my decision in my expression, because he grinned widely. "Told you you'll never let go of that fedora, Dad. You'll always be Indy, no matter how old you are," he said. Madison looked at the two of us in confusion, and I realized that I was grinning as widely as my son.

I cleared my throat and put my glasses back on, setting the key back down on the desk. Jeff Clarke was an old friend of mine; I had never made the connection between him and Madison. And I wasn't going on this adventure just because I loved archaeology and adventures, but also because I needed to save my friend. From what I had already heard, Jeff really was in danger. And so was Madison, but only for as long as she had the key.

"Whoa. Wait. You said you fought against these Russians?" Mutt suddenly asked. Madison nodded. "But you're just a preppy!" he exclaimed.

"Just because I'm a letterman's girlfriend doesn't mean I can't defend myself," she narrowed her eyes.

"Um, yeah. It does," Mutt retorted. "Fighting is for greasers, not girls in poodle skirts."

"That's enough, you two," I said, and I was surprised when Mutt actually didn't say anything. "Thank you, Madison. Your uncle is right; I do know what to do with this key. I'll keep it under my care while I search for Jeff. In the meantime, you and your parents should maybe go on vacation for a week or so; at least until the Russians realize the key is no longer at your house and you don't have it."

She nodded, got up to leave, and opened the door. I picked up the phone and dialled my new home number. Marion picked up after the third ring.

"Marion Jones speaking!" she said cheerfully. She really got a kick out of calling herself Marion 'Jones' now, but I didn't mind.

"It's me," I said. "I know I promised you no more adventures, but something's come up. I'm hoping to be flying out to London tonight." I gathered some stuff together while I said this, thinking about how the first step to finding Jeff would be flying to England.

Marion sighed. "I'm not surprised you can't keep your promise. I'll meet you at the airport in two hours," she said.

"What? No, Marion, I'm not bringing you on this trip. I've already put your life in enough danger."

"This is exactly why you didn't want to marry me the first time, isn't it? You were afraid I wouldn't be able to sit home all alone while you went and searched for random ancient objects. Well, I'm telling you now, Indy, I will not sit at our house waiting for you. I'm coming with you. We're in this together."

I sighed. "No way, Marion. It's not safe."

"Holy crap. You're almost as bad as Mutt. He thinks everything in this world is out to get me. I'm coming whether or not you like it. And I already accepted my life wouldn't be safe when I married you."

Dang it, the girl had a point. I shoved a bunch of papers into a briefcase as I cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder. "Fine," I growled, "but if I tell you to do something you have to do as I say."

"Whatever," Marion said in a tone that let me know there was no way in the entire world she would do as I said. I could almost hear her smiling on the other end of the phone; she had broken me down until I said she could go. Damn that woman. I'll never understand her.

"See you at the airport in two hours," I grumbled, not happy.

"Wait! What are we going to do with Mutt?"

I turned my back on my son, who was still sitting in the chair. He had his switchblade in his hands, and he was flipping it into the air and then catching it. "He's nineteen year old. He can stay here by himself," I told Marion.

"Indy, I think he should come with us."

"Look, I'm already breaking my rules my letting you come! He's not coming too!"

"You have rules?" Marion giggled. "But honestly, Indiana, he should come with us. He's your son, and he was a big help at Akator. Also, he's been itching to go on an adventure ever since we got back from Peru. He's exactly like you in that way; he can't keep still. Adventure is in his blood."

"I don't know if he should come," I murmured, glancing at him.

"If we left without him, he'd probably just end up following us, and then we'd be in even bigger trouble. How would you feel if Mutt and I went on an adventure without you?"

"You know that's not fair, Marion. Fine. He can come. Mutt and I will meet you at the airport in two hours."

"You've got it, Indiana," she said, hanging up. I put the phone down and continued packing, when I heard a small and feminine cough. I looked up to see Madison, who was still standing in the doorway. I had seen her get up to go, but I hadn't seen her leave.

"Dr. Jones?" she asked, and I ran my fingers through my white hair, still looking at her. "I couldn't help but overhear you say you were going to London. Is that to search for my uncle?"

"Yep," I nodded, deciding she had the right to know. He was her uncle, after all.

"Well, um, I was just wondering if I could come too. With you, I mean. To look for Jeff."

I sighed heavily and sat down in my chair with a thump. How many dang people wanted to come? "I don't think that's a good idea, Miss Clarke," I said.

"But you're bringing Mutt. And Jeff isn't Mutt's uncle. He's mine. Don't you think I have the right to come? I mean, it is my key, and I want to know why the Russians practically destroyed my house looking for it."

"Mutt's coming because he's been on trips like this before," I explained, but I didn't say anything about her other points.

"Please, Dr. Jones?"

"I'm sorry Madison, really. But you're not really cut out for this stuff. You have no idea what this is going to become."

"What do you mean I'm not cut out for it? You're just saying that because I'm a preppy! I can take care of myself. I handled those three men at my place, didn't I?" she complained. I looked at Mutt for help, but he was too busy brushing his hair with his stupid little plastic comb. I really wanted to break that thing.

I sighed, thinking about it. I could always bring her and then tell her to stay in a hotel. She didn't actually have to come with us on anything important. Ah, what the heck. I would probably end up leaving all three of them behind. I didn't want to be saving anyone.

Then again, it had always been nice to have backup. But weren't Mutt and Marion backup enough?

"Fine, you can come. We'll need to go to your place to get some of your things. Mutt and I will come with you, because we don't know whether or not the Russians are still there. We'll be leaving in a minute," I said. What I didn't tell her was the real reason I let her come. It wasn't because of the things she had pointed out to me, or because I might need backup. It was because something deep inside me was telling me that this girl may be more important to this adventure then my bullwhip might be.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Jones," she smiled while I finished packing up some papers.

"Don't worry about it, Miss Clarke," I responded, motioning to Mutt to get his fat butt out of my chair, because we were leaving.

"You can just call me Madison, if that's not too familiar. On this trip, we're not really going to be teacher and student, are we?" she asked, clasping her hands together.

"Nope," I said, walking out the door. The three of us headed towards the college parking lot in the back of the school. I turned around and smiled at Madison. "But you can only come on one condition," I said.

"What's that, Dr. Jones?" she asked innocently.

I winked. "You have to call me Indiana."

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A/N: As you can see, this is only the intro. I promise it will get better, and that the chapters will become longer!

Don't go crazy on me if it's super bad, though. It's only my first fan fiction, and I didn't put my all into it. Oh well. Hopefully some of you will be nice and review, even though there's hardly anything to review!

Also, I picked the lyrics at the very start because they sort of symbolise Madison's leaving and the start of her adventure. She's a preppy - a small town girl. It was mostly just that one line of the song that I wanted to use. The rest of the song Don't Stop Believin' (by Journey, not me) doesn't really have anything to do with the story so far.

I don't own any of the characters you may recognize! So far, I think it's only Madison who i made up. And her dad and uncle, and the random Russians. But otherwise, I own nothing!

Don't leave me just yet; maybe I'll get an update up by later today! Au revoir!

-Lexi

:P