Outside, Marion's tent, Indy sat on a camp chair looking at the stars. Weariness seeped through his bones, and it was gonna be a damn long day with his crew tomorrow. If Abner even got back by sunrise. But judging by the looks that he'd seen Abe exchanging with that pretty little widow from the Oriental Instititute..Indy wasn't putting any money on it. And he's not gonna be happy when he hears what's been going on... Maybe I'll let Ox do the explaining…Then he heard a faint sound. The noise started as a soft whimper, became gulps and, finally, muffled gasps. He rose stealthily, drew the Webley and set out to investigate.

It took him a walk around the tent before he could identify what he'd heard .

They were frightened, heartbroken sobs that someone was bravely trying to stifle.

Indy had a sudden, vivid, memory of a 13-year-old boy on the day he'd buried his mother. He'd sat on his closet floor with his face hidden in his dog's thick fur and his fist stuffed into his mouth- so that his father wouldn't hear him cry. "Be a little man, Junior"…No. Not this time.

So he ducked into the tent and scooped her up, blankets and all. C'mere, honey- If you've got more crying to do, your Indy has two arms and a nice warm shoulder... He carried her to the chair by the tent flap, and sat down still holding her.

It's OK, baby, Indy's got you, don't be afraid, they can't hurt you anymore, shhhh…shhhh.

He rocked her in his arms and patted her back awkwardly until the tears stopped and she looked up at him.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, "I thought I heard something."

"Aaah, probably the wind, or maybe one of the guys walking to the latrine. Nothing to be scared of."

"Are they going to come back for me?"

"Not while I'm here."

"But you're going away, Indy." A forlorn face peeped up at him out of her blankets.

Shit.

"Give me your hand." He tried her hand around the pistol's grip, and let go. Her wrist sagged-damn. It was too heavy for her.

Now both of them." That was better. Hopefully no one was going to let her out of camp unescorted, and in-camp she'd only have to fire a round or two until help came.

He snugged the blanket a little closer to him and put a thumb under her chin.

"Know what I think, Short Stuff?" he said. "I think a plucky girl like you could learn to shoot my pistol. If you can, I'll leave it with you. That way, no matter what happens, you'll be safe."

"Won't you need it?"

Indy paused and considered.

"Well, I'll be living in Paris, and I don't want to look like some rube from America next to those French guys, see? Most of 'em think we're nothing but gangsters and cowboys. So maybe I shouldn't bring that big pistol to La Sorbonne. If you could take good care of it for me, you'd be doing me a favor."

"What will you do without it?"

"I'll get a smaller gun for emergencies, maybe a Smith & Wesson. Don't you worry about me, though. I'm a grown man and I can take care of myself."

"And sometimes, me, too."

"You bet, baby, and we need to worry about you right now. Think you can learn to shoot this?"

She gulped. "If you teach me, I think I can."

"OK, sweetheart, we've got a deal. Now back to bed with you."

"Can't I stay here with you, Indy? I won't be any trouble."

Worshipful blue eyes gazed up at him-and he gave up without a fight. This proved to be the first of many times that Indiana Jones would find himself unable to say 'no' to Marion Ravenwood.

"Awww, honey, who says you're any trouble? Abe will be back any minute, I'm sure. You can stay here with me till he comes. Put your head on my shoulder and try to sleep, then.."

A short time later, an unmistakable British voice rang through the night as Harold Oxley and Frank Driscoll, pistols in hand, made their rounds as the camp's night patrol.

"Henry, what is the meaning of this?" Ox frowned as he looked at Indy, sitting on a camp chair with their professor's blanket-wrapped daughter settled cozily in his lap.

"Keep it down, Ox, she's asleep. She's had a helluva scare, poor little mite. I promised I'd watch over her till Abe came. She was in that tent crying her heart out and I couldn't stand it any longer. I could hardly stay with her in there, so I brought her out front."

Oxley nodded in understanding. "That is a trifle irregular, but given the circumstances..."

Indy nodded back, and turned to the other graduate student. "I'm telling you, Frank, if I ever have kids you can bet your ass I'm not leaving them to fend for themselves in the middle of hell-and-gone. Especially a little girl... You know, on the way back Marion -God help us- told me some of the Arabic she heard and asked me to translate. I didn't - because they were saying things she shouldn't even be hearing in English."

Frank shook his head and whistled.

'So," Indy continued "the minute Abner shows up and starts acting like a father, I'll gladly hand her over. Until then, she's fine right where she is." Over the sleeping girl's head, his hazel eyes challenged Oxley's blue ones.

Frank put in, "Hell, I've got a kid sister myself. Can't even think of how I'd feel if pigs like that got ahold of Dotsie. You boys did a damn righteous thing. So tell you what, Jones. If Abner's not back by morning I'll take your shift so you can get some shut-eye. Ox, can you detach someone to watch over Marion?"

Ox, struck by these points, answered in a much gentler tone. "If Abner's not back, I will. Carry on, Indiana."

Indy carried on, and sat up with Marion for the rest of the starry desert night.

When a fella spends all night under a blanket with a girl, it's usually a little more fun than this-more kissing and less clothes, for starters... Awww, but just look at that pretty little thing, all cuddled up, safe in her Indy's arms. I'm not her 'older brother' anymore, I'm more than her friend, I can't be her lover-but there's a bond between us. And if she's really got anyone but me in this world I've yet to see it. What the hell am I gonna do?

He sat and pondered until dawn, when Ox and Frank came to relieve him.