I was on "The Terrible Crossover Fanfiction Idea Generator", chuckling at the ludicrous suggestions, when I got this one:

Your challenge is to write crossover fanfiction combining Indiana Jones and Pokemon. The story should use same-sex relationships as a plot device!

I paused, stared at it for a moment, and said to myself:

"Challenge accepted."

"And that concludes today's lecture on ancient Mesopotamian architecture. Any further questions?" Dr. Henry Jones ended his lesson as the class period was about to end. No going past the bell this time. The silence was enough to give him an answer. "I guess not." he muttered more quietly. The bell rang, and the students left the classroom rather quickly. It always seemed the same in his classes, no student interaction. The days seemed droll and boring much of the time, but then, this was his job. Not every day he could be 'Indiana' and go on a globe-trotting adventure, he was usually Henry, the college professor. It had been a few years since his last big adventure, teaming up with his father in a search for the Holy Grail. The year was 1942, four years since then, and Dr. Jones' adventurous side had been aching for a voyage, though so far, he hadn't gotten any leads on any potential archaeological discoveries. Even a vague first step to something would be a nice thing to have, he was sure he could figure something out if he had anything at all.

After an uneventful trip home, he stepped through the door, almost missing an envelope that had been pushed under the door. It wasn't mailed to him, there were only names on the envelope. On the front was written 'To Dr. Henry 'Indiana' Jones'. In the corner where a return address should be, there was only 'From 'Gold''. "Gold...?" he muttered to himself. He thought it could be a trap, or just a prank, but his curiosity got to him, he opening up the envelope. There was a singular piece of paper inside, filled only with strange hieroglyphs. Though, only strange looking in appearance, they still looked like letters. Random letters. Unless they were in code, they didn't seem to mean anything.

Part of Henry really wanted it to mean something, though. He wanted to be 'Indiana' Jones again, he wanted another adventure. For someone who'd done as much as he had, four years only teaching college classes on what his field work was about on the slow days was maddening, frustrating. Unfulfilling. Besides, the way the message was encoded seemed somehow familiar to him.

Wait a minute. There was another piece of paper inside the envelope. On the this piece of paper, it read "First Roman, Straight Count, Crimson Deliverer, BK NI MY DX EV TJ CR QZ US AG" The last part, that was familiar. Plugboard settings for an Enigma Machine. First Roman...an Enigma I? An encoded message in an unaddressed envelope? This was just getting more and more strange. He looked at the encoded message on the paper. Aside from looking like hieroglyphs, they seemed to resemble English letters pretty closely.

"HIC MQ CZWQG, R WKQLVUJ GOCC QSVF, GGM JBVIWGX VXSP XL JOA AUQO. KV DJRMVCB SZN KCZRBKC JYOAW, UWJ RTVH B KAEDW EJ BJXMV, GFQPA ZGBGT LR S XNZW FQPI PFWETUUP, RZA GL ZVUZUJLN. FXZX KMLS QBCT JKD HVP XC."

He began to think to himself. Knowing it was from an Enigma machine was great and all, but what machine? With what settings? Poring over the piece of paper, Henry thought about what he needed to decypher an Enigma message, at least without full out cracking the message. What rotors are used, where the rotors start, and how the rings are set. A count, the Enigma only used numbers when referring to the rotors. Straight count...I-II-III. Crimson Deliverer...now what did that mean? Crimson, a shade of red. Deliverer...God?

Setting the rotors to RED and the rings to GOD, he typed the message in, getting...a load of gibberish. No, that wasn't right. Wait, there was a method to use a message key in the first three letters. Those came to JUE. He set the rotors to that, typing the message out again. Nothing but garbage. Hmm.

Puzzled now, but determined to figure it out, spent hours trying all kinds of ring settings, with and without the message key method. Nothing, nothing at all. All kinds of ancient gods, or figuring crimson, as in blood, with different ancient conquerors, but nothing.

After hours of this, Henry was about ready for a break. Maybe settling down with a meal and a mug of coffee would sort things out. Midway through his cup of coffee, suddenly, a burst of inspiration. Deliverer, as in, the deliverer of the message! The answer was right in front of him! All those years of hunting ancient religious artifacts got him on the wrong line of thinking. So, Gold, but, how to abbreviate it into three letters? GOL? Probably not. GLD...that seemed closer. Setting the rotors back to RED and the rings to GLD, he started putting in the message...nothing but gibberish. Except the first three letters, which came out to BLU. All colors, what a strange way to encode. Setting the rotors to BLU, he typed in the encoded message, finally getting something that made sense! Well, sort of. It was English, but still cryptic.

"IN KANTO, A MYSTERY WILL WAIT, BUT SHORTLY OPEN IS THE GATE. GO TOWARDS THE MORNING LIGHT, AND FIND A UNITY OF THREE, WHERE THERE IS A WALL WELL TRAVELED, BUT NO BLOCKADE. ONLY THEN WILL YOU SEE ME."

So, the encoded message decoded into a riddle? Now Mr. Jones was getting rather intrigued. Kanto? As in the region of Japan? Or Northeast China? The rest of the message didn't seem like it was talking about either of those places. Towards the morning light, to the east. Now the rest of the message made sense, a meeting place, the only place with a trinity and a wall that was no blockade.

The Big Apple, New York. The Trinity Church, a unity of three, on Wall Street, a wall well traveled with no blockade. Maybe he was leaping to conclusions, he didn't know, he just had to see if there was something, anything. This year had been pretty uneventful, so why not?

For all Henry knew, he could have a journey ahead of him, and that journey could lead him to be 'Indy' once more. Time to ask Marcus Brody for an early summer break. It had been four years, it was about time he went globetrotting again.