Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of the characters affiliated with said franchise.
"Get the hell out of my room!"
These were the first words out of 18 year old Mutt Jones's mouth as his mother violently shook him awake.
"Excuse me young man, but when did speaking that way to your mother become acceptable?" She demanded. Mutt grumbled something unintelligible into his pillow; Marion decided to accept this as an apology. "You need to get up, get dressed and be down stairs in ten minutes." With one final shake of his shoulder she left.
Mutt opened his eyes despite the harsh light that shone directly into them and looked at his clock. It was a quarter past eight. He groaned loudly and buried his head back into his pillow. It was the first day of winter break; he was supposed to be waking up at noon at the earliest, not at the same time he did when he had classes to attend. It was his first semester at college and after nearly four months of nothing but classes and lectures and home work it would be an understatement to say he was eager for the two month long vacation to begin.
Didn't want to go to no stinkin' school anyway. He thought bitterly, he hadn't really been given a choice in the matter. Immediately following his family's return from Peru, all the way back in March, his father Indiana enrolled him in the local high school to finish out the four months of schooling he needed to graduate and for a "gift," as he had called it, pulled some strings and got the teenager accepted to Marshall College where the elder Jones was employed as both Assistant Dean and a professor of archaeology.
"Five more minutes, Mutt!" Marion called up from the first floor. "I don't hear you moving!" Mutt let out a frustrated grunt and threw his pillow aside before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and unwillingly went to his closet to dress. When he finally came thumping down the stairs his mother was no where to be found.
"Morning, Junior." Said a voice from the dining room, causing Mutt to jump. His father was seated at the table looking over the newspaper at him.
"Don't call me that." Mutt snapped, taking a seat at the table and reaching for the box of cereal in the middle of the table.
"Call you what, Junior?" Indiana asked with a smile. Mutt made a face and poured himself a bowl of cereal. Indy shook his head. "So, are you packed?"
The teenager raised an eyebrow
"Packed for what?" He asked. Indy lowered his newspaper.
"You forgot? We're going to France in-" he checked his watch. "Two hours. Your mother is going to kill you when she finds out you aren't ready."
"Shit, when are we leaving?"
"As soon as she gets out of the shower. Twenty minutes, give or take."
Mutt got up from the table and stood there for a moment.
"Well are you going to help me pack?" He asked. Indy sighed and conceded.
"How many pairs of jeans do you own?" Indy demanded as he dug through his son's dresser. "Blue jeans, black jeans, dark blue jeans… does it really make that much of a difference?"
"Of course it does." Mutt answered defensively. "Just put them in the trunk." Indy tossed the pile into the large brown trunk that was sitting on Mutt's bed before taking out the tux the teenager had worn to his parents' wedding. "Woah, woah, woah, what are you doing with that? I'm not wearing a suit."
"Yes you are. We're going to be staying with an old friend of mine and you are going to be properly dressed for at least one night. It's coming with us."
"Fine." Mutt scowled. "Why are we going anyway?"
"Your mother wanted us to go on a vacation as a family and I don't know about you, but I know I could use a bit of relaxation. Besides, we told you about this months ago; it's your own fault if you forgot."
"Can I bring my bike?" Mutt asked hopefully.
"No."
"Please?"
"Go get your toothbrush." The younger Jones stomped out of the room and returned to fling the small brush into his trunk. It came dangerously close to hitting his father's ear and Indy was not so sure it was an accident. However, before he could admonish his son, he heard the clicking of shoes against stairs.
"Mutt? Indy?" Marion called. The father and son looked at each other and quickly began throwing clothing into the trunk.
"We'll be right down honey!" Indy shouted back.
"What are you two doing? We have to leave."
"Nothing, Ma, we'll be down in a minute." Mutt said, trying to close the trunk. He slammed the lid closed and jumped atop it. "Dad!" He hissed. Indy, hearing his wife's nearing footsteps joined his son, sitting on the trunk while trying to close the latch.
"Come on, Junior, put some effort into it." He said.
"I'm trying, it's hard."
"Well if you packed earlier we wouldn't be-"
"What are you doing?" A voice asked from the doorway. The pair looked up to see Marion standing with her coat on her back and a confused look on her face.
"What do you mean 'what are we doing'?" Mutt asked quickly. "We were talking, we were having a father-son talk. You're always saying we should bond and now here you are interrupting us."
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart, I just wanted to tell you two that we need to get going. It's good to see the two of you getting along." She added with a smile. "Just don't be too long, we don't want to miss the plane." With that, she closed the door and headed back downstairs. Indy waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps to speak.
"You're very good at that."
"Yeah, I know."