It was a gorgeous car. A Candy Apple Red, two-door, hard top, '54 Skyliner. Susanne Benton wiped more grease onto her old pair of overalls before tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear and going back to reassembling the engine. Just as she was re-attaching the cover, she heard something clatter upstairs. She stood up, stretching, looking curiously up the stairs, "I thought you were getting groceries." She called, quickly finishing up and hiding her tools, hoping that her voice didn't give away her guilt. Her grandmother hated when she 'fiddled' with cars. It wasn't ladylike. She paused, frowning when no one answered, "…Nana?" She listened carefully, and knew for sure that she heard voices upstairs. Male voices.

She silently grabbed the largest wrench she had, held it up like a baseball bat, gulped, then made her way up the stairs to the house, careful to avoid the steps the she knew would creak. All the while, she wondered if maybe Nana had forgotten to turn off the TV. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Why would anyone want to break in here? It wasn't the nicest place by far, so it just wouldn't make sense. It must just be the TV. Nana was becoming a tad senile –

Damn. She had reached the top of the stairs. All that stood between her and whoever was up there - slash the TV - was a door. A very thin door, now that she thought about it…

"This is ridiculous." She hissed to herself, forcing her hand to grab the handle and turn it. There was no harm in doing so very slowly so as not to make any noise. She peeked through first and, upon seeing no one, opened it just wide enough for her to slip through, wrench held at the ready. She backed up towards the back door, keeping her eyes on the front door and the living room. There were definitely voices. Not the TV. She could hear footsteps as well. And the men were speaking a different language. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought they were speaking –

"German?" She muttered, frowning. She quickened her pace, putting her hand out behind her, grasping for the door handle. Her hand made contact with something soft. She froze, her eyes wide. She swallowed once, before turning to look over her shoulder at who ever she had run into.

He was a very large man. At least a foot taller than she was with a very large build and a very large, set jaw below narrowed blue eyes and close-cropped blonde hair. Susanne screamed at the top of her lungs and swung at his head with her wrench. While he clutched at the side of his head in pain, she scooted around him, ripped the door open and ran as fast as she could through the yard. She struggled for a moment with the gate, cursing all the while (another unladylike habit that Nana would disapprove of). Cackling with triumph, she finally yanked the gate open, slamming it shut in the faces of 2 more men before taking off through the back lane and skidding out into the street, earning her multiple angry honks from some pissed off drivers. This was one occasion where she was glad she lived in the middle of the city. She ran across the street, heading for the university. She could hear the men behind her, yelling for her to stop. It only made her run faster. She spotted a motorcycle idling in front of the main entrance, a man who appeared to be the owner of the bike was pacing back and forth, obviously waiting for someone.

"Do you work here?"

She froze, even in her panic, "Excuse me?"

The man on the stairs gestured at her dirty pants, "You gotta be a janitor or something –"

Susanne laughed, almost in hysterics. She didn't have time to set the guy straight, "Is this your bike?"

He grinned proudly, straightening up, "Yeah."

Susanne nodded thoughtfully, looking down at the bike and glancing over her shoulder. The men were running up the walkway. She decided not to waste the opportunity. Plus, she was still kind of bitter about the janitor comment. Hell hath no fury, and this was a really bad time. She leapt onto the bike.

"Hey! What are you doing!?" She heard the man yell as she peeled down the walkway towards the men, laughing as they dove out of the way.

She almost felt bad for taking the bike…but her remorse was quickly pushed into the back of her mind as two car loads of the German men from her home swerved out into the street behind her.

"Jesus, how many are there?" She sped up, hoping to God no one got in her way. She didn't really drive motorcycles much, so she kind of had no clue what she was doing. A young girl ran out into her path, completely oblivious to the fact that there was a gang of angry German men chasing her down. Susanne shrieked, swerving to avoid the girl, then screamed as she had to swerve again to avoid running over a young Asian man and, in doing so, crashing into a fruit stand.

"Are you alright?!" The guy she nearly hit helped her to her feet, then looked at the bike, "…That looks just like –"

"Yeah, great. Fine." Susanne struggled with the bike, looking around nervously.

He noticed her anxiety, "Are you sure your o-"

Susanne groaned. The men had caught up with her, and one had a gun pointed at the pair. "Shit."

The young man looked at her, surprised.

The large blonde man that she had hit with her wrench stepped through the others, his head was bleeding from where she had hit him, "You come with us." He looked over at the innocent man that Susanne had doomed by nearly running him over, "You, too."

"But he's not-"

The blonde man shot her the mother of all glares before turning to march away towards the cars, "Metzger, Reinigen Sie das! Fleischer, befassen Sie sich mit ihnen, und bringen Sie das Rad ebenso. (1)" He ordered. Susanne didn't understand a word of what he said. Though, judging by the men approaching them with far from friendly faces, it wasn't anything good.

She glanced over at the young man, meaning to apologize, but as she opened her mouth to speak, a white cloth was shoved into her face, covering her mouth and nose. Susanne struggled for a moment, the strong chemical smell drifting through her senses, until her eyes started to feel heavier and her head lighter. She caught a glimpse of the man she had dragged into this and saw that he was in a similar situation before her eyes drifted shut completely and her mind blanked.

Indiana Jones and Mutt Williams peered out through the front windshield, careful to stay hidden while they watched a group of tense men load Shorty and an unfamiliar girl into a black vehicle.

Mutt pointed, "That's the girl," His gaze shifted, and his eyes widened, "Those bastards are taking my bike! We gotta go!" He grabbed the door handle and started climbing out.

Indy grabbed the back of his leather coat and yanked him back down into the seat, "Sit down, will ya?! Jesus." He shook his head.

"We're not going after them?!"

Indy rubbed his temples, "Patience, kid."

Mutt muttered a couple curses under his breath, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

"Give it a rest. You'll get your bike back."

"Damn right I will." Mutt sat back and waited, drumming on the armrest impatiently all the while.

Reviews are love. I'm really nervous about writing and Indy fic, what with the movies being classics and all. But, I'm hoping, since its KOTCS based, it won't be too too risky...Encouragement would be awesome lol. How's my OC? She okay so far? not too annoying/Mary Sue?