A/N: The story takes place not long after the movie. Just a short while after the wedding.
If you have any ideas you'd like to see, or have some constructive criticism, please share them with me. :)

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"Where in the hell is that thing?!"

For the past ten minutes, Mutt had been going on a rampage through the house flipping, opening, and throwing everything around in search of his comb. Yes, his comb. Somehow, the thing had gone missing, and he was well within the grip of panic.

"It's just a comb. What did it cost you, a nickel? Just buy yourself a new one, kid. Hell, I'll even donate the nickel."

"I don't want a new one. I want mine...I mean my old one...I mean, aw hell: What if you lost your fedora? Would you just go and buy a new one?"

"I don't think its quite the same thing."

Mutt snorted. Now he was going through the father's desk, opening and slamming drawers shut when he couldn't find his comb, pausing only long enough to throw his father a fulminating look of adolescent disgust at the cluelessness of oldsters.

"Kid... Kid! Listen to me-"

"Don't worry, I won't mess up your things." Mutt said right before moving some of the drawer's contents onto the desk to search through it better.

"Kid, it's-"

Slamming a drawer shut in clear frustration, Mutt suddenly said, "I wouldn't be surprised if you threw it out or something."

"Junior, calm down."

Mutt was rummaging through another drawer now, tossing out some of his dad's notes and other odds and ends in his attempt to find his comb. After slamming another one shut he said, "No! I don't want to calm down, because I'm starting to think you probably threw it away.. or.. lost it or something!"

"Isn't it your job not to lose it?" Indy smirked.

"Yeah, well..." Not quite knowing how to respond to that, Mutt opened another drawer, while mumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

"Just look in your-"

"Don't tell me to look in the bathroom again. I've already looked there like three times and it's not in there." Mutt tossed another assortment of objects onto the desk, causing some books to fall from the desk and onto the floor. He paused to take a long agitated breath as he gazed down at them, trying to decide what to do next.

His dad waited patiently for a few seconds before saying, "It's sticking out of your pocket."

There was silence as Mutt froze and slowly looked down. There, he saw his comb just barely sticking out from his pocket. Avoiding eye contact with his father, he reached for it, ran it through his hair once, squared his shoulders, and headed straight into his room. He closed the door behind him, and there was complete silence for several seconds before the slight click of the door lock was heard, followed by Elvis exercising his pipes at top volume.

Indy knew he might end up regretting it if the music didn't cover for him, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He broke out into the loudest most satisfying bark of laughter he'd enjoyed in a very long time. God! He really loved that kid.