DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately enough, I don't own Indiana Jones—or anything else that you recognise. All original characters and the plot are mine, though some of the facts are really stone fact.

xXxXx

When the plane touched down on the ground, I couldn't hold back the extremely loud expression of relief. "That bad, huh?" Freddie asked, poking his head through the curtain. I laughed and shook my head.

"Alright," Indy said, naturally waking up when he realised we had stopped. Marion was stirring as well, stretching herself as she woke herself up. "Taranto, right Freddie?"

Freddie flushed. "Actually, no. Sorry Dr. Jones, but they didn't have a good enough run way. It was crowded and I couldn't find a spot to land."

Marion frowned. "Where are we, then?" She asked, getting Dr. Jones's hand to pull herself up.

Freddie shrugged. "I landed in one of the paddocks. So I'd get out of here before the owner notices and gets pissed. I must have ripped up their grass pretty bad." I frowned, managing to twist open the door and poking my head out.

There, running at us with a pitchfork, was an angry little man. "Time to go." I said urgently, running back inside and grabbing my bag and then hurrying back towards the door, Marion and Indy had already gotten out of the plane. Mutt was next and he jumped out with out using the stairs. I frowned, smiling at Freddie before running to the door.

I hurried down the ladder, Mutt catching me when my ridiculous heel slipped. I frowned at the shoes. Mutt laughed and set me down on the floor. "Fragile." He muttered.

The guys would have a field day if they saw me being this close to a greaser. Just as I thought this I head Freddie's shout as he leaned out to close the plane door. "Don't be a cube, Kitty."

I flushed and waved at him.

Then I heard Dr. Jones shout, "What is this? A party? Hurry Up!"

I looked over at the angry man who was getting closer. "Should we apologise. I'm sure we can pay him for—"

"COME ON!" Mutt shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.

Mutt and I ran after Indy and Marion, and I couldn't help but laugh as I turned around to see the fat man chasing Freddie as he began to gain the sped to take off again. We ran faster across the paddock, towards the angry man's home. Indy led us into their garage, where a car was sitting, ready to drive away.

If we had keys.

Indiana grabbed one of the man's tools and slammed it into the window. Indy reached through the broken window and unlocked the window. He pulled the door open and brushed some of the broken glass form where he would be sitting.

I screamed in surprise and looked in shock. "You'll get used to it, doll." Mutt said, pushing me forward so I could get into the back seat.

In a matter of second, Indy had hotwired the car and we were driving away, down the road, leaving only a trail of dust behind us. I let out an extremely gleeful laugh. "This is archaeology?" I echoed incredulously.

All three Joneses just laughed.

I looked out the window, watching the countryside whiz by us. Was this what acting instinctively led to? If it were just me, I would have gone and apologised to the man. I certainly wouldn't have even considered damaging his car. Not smashing the window and stealing it.

But this? This way that the Jones did things? It was exhilarating.

As we drove into the small city, I couldn't figure out where we were going now. It was a quaint little city, exactly what you would expect of Italy. One long road ran down with house and homes on one side, and the sea on the other. There was so much here. It would be almost impossible to find anything if you didn't know what you were looking for.

"What are we actually looking for?" I asked, as the thought struck me.

The Jones's all hesitated. Mutt looked interested as well. "Your grandfather." Marion said instantly.

I frowned. "Do any of us have any idea where to start?"

There was no real answer. Then Indy said. "The map your grandfather sent to you. It marks out Taranto."

Mutt nodded, "But … we're in Taranto. What does it say to do next?" he asked a little confused.

Indy shrugged. "It's got this verse— I think Franklin wrote it there." He said. "Three strikes from God shall mark his bed."

There was a second silence. Then, "Oh." Mutt said sarcastically. "That's great. So we just have to check every single bed in the city?"

Indy shrugged. "I'm working on it, alright son?"

I sighed, deflating a bit. I guess I hadn't thought much about what we would do upon arriving at Italy. Now that I thought about it though, there was really so much more to do. Just getting to Italy was the very beginning of everything. I stared out the window again, watching things go past me. The small quaint little houses. A primary school bussing with little girls and boys in identical uniforms, a church. A graveyard.

"Wait!" Marion said loudly, holding her hands up. She lifted her arms, and pointed at the graveyard. "Bed!" She said excitedly. "Oxley wrote that, and meant grave. Maybe there's a grave around here that's marked…"

"Marked by God?" I echoed.

Marion nodded. I shrugged. Sounds like a good idea. It was a start at least. Much better than randomly driving around the city trying to figure out what Franklin would have done next. "Sounds good." I muttered.

"Sounds good?" Indy echoed. He turned to Marion and pressed a brief kiss to her lips. "It's fabulous. I knew there was a reason I kept…" he trailed off looking at her face, "…attempting to do better by you…?" He saved.

Mutt and I exchanged an amused look. Nice save, Dr. Jones.

Indy pulled over the car, putting it in park. We all got out quickly enough and walked into the graveyard. I ignored the people giving us odd looks as they headed into their church services. It would seem that it was Sunday.

"So what are we looking for here?" Mutt asked Indy.

Indy shrugged. "A grave that looks as though it's been marked."

Marked? Marked by God. "But that could be anything…" I protested. "There are so many gods and so many marks from those gods. How do you know which one to look for?"

Indy shrugged. "We're in Italy. That would mean it's probably a Christian mark." I frowned. Everything here was Christian. It was a Christian church.

"Wait a minute, Daddy-O…" Mutt said slowly. "If it's archaeological than couldn't it pre-date a Christian Italy? What about religions from around here? Neighbouring countries or something?"

Indy nodded. "You're right, kid." He said slowly. "Let's see… think, Indy, think." He told himself. "There was the Ancient Roman gods, which came before Christianity in Rome and Italy. And there were the Greek gods from Greece, which is only a boat ride away."

"They're pretty similar, right?" I suggested, cutting into his out loud thinking. "I mean, the gods were all pretty much the same?"

Indy nodded. "Yes. Some people even believe that the Romans took the Greeks gods and simply renamed them. There was Poseidon and Neptune. And Artemis and Diana and Aphrodite and Venus. And offcourse, there was Zeus and Jupiter."

Marion frowned. "Wait. Didn't they both use lightning bolts?" She asked. "In all the legends? They use lightning bolts and such."

I nodded. "Right. So we look for a grave that looks like it's been struck by lightning? What does that mean?"

Mutt smirked. "Isn't it obvious, doll? You have to look for a grave that's all burnt and charred. That's what happens when things get struck by lightning."

I frowned at him. "Oh, go comb your hair.' I told him.

Marion and Indy exchanged a knowing smile that I pointedly ignored, and Mutt looked annoyed. "What about…?" But I couldn't think of anything.

"Look." Indy finally said. "Just look around. I don't know what this mark is, but just look for anything out of the ordinary. If you find anything like that, than just… we'll look at it, and figure out what to do next."

We all nodded and split up.

Walking around the graves I couldn't help but feel a little shiver. I never really liked graveyards. They were the setting of so many horror stories and movies that it had become almost customary to feel uncomfortable in them. And to think that only about three feet below my feet was the body, or bones, or someone was just a little too creepy for my liking.

I stopped at the grave of a Mr. Christopher Right. It made me smile, knowing that there was a Mr. Right out there. Beside him was Mrs. Right, who had obviously decided that he was the right man for her. Fresh flowers rested on the grave, decorating the headstone. I smiled grimly and kept walking.

I walked past to many graves that I began to read the names and the ages to see exactly what had happened. A Roberto Piaza died at age 107, only last year. A couple of places over there were two graves marked Eliza and Emily Bennita two twins who were six months old when they died.

"Depressing, huh?"

I looked over at Mutt, and nodded, kneeling at the headstones of Eliza and Emily. "It makes you think…" I said slowly. "About what could have happened, you know? Like... maybe the kids got the flu," I nodded towards the large mausoleum that had the name of seven people in plaques across the sides. "They all died at the same time. Maybe it was a flood, or a house fire."

Mutt shrugged. "Don't think about it doll. It's too dark for someone like you to think about."

I frowned at him. "Cut the gas, you Jack ass." I muttered. "I told you I'm not fragile."

Mutt frowned. "When did I say you were?"

I opened my mouth ready to direct him back to his sentence. Then I realised that he actually hadn't called me fragile. He had just said that it was too dark for me to be thinking about. I blushed. He laughed.

"Come on, Doll…" he muttered. "I don't think there's anything here."

We went to the main church and waited while Indy talked to the chaplain. He explained that there were four other cemeteries in the city. We went to the next, looking for something out of the ordinary. We all split up and went past every single grave, checking it thoroughly.

"Most of these graves hold people who died thousands of years ago." Indy explained to us. "That's what's so great about Italy, and old countries. The History is everywhere."

Now I could tell why he and Franklin were such good friends. Those were almost the exact same words Franklin said whenever he left the country.

We got excited at one point when I found the grave of Mr. Marcus God. It turned out to be a dud though, when I realised his name was Marcus Godey, and the 'ey' had just been covered by the flowers that decorated it.

"We can't find what ever it is, until we know what it is." Mutt said.

We were half way through looking through the fourth grave when I heard Mutt shout. "Hey." He said quietly. It got louder. "Hey! HEY!" he motioned for us to join him. "I found something. I found something!"

We all ran over to where he was and looked at the grave. There was no name. "Lightning bolts, right?" Mutt checked excitedly. "What about these?" he pointed at something in the corner of the stone.

I leaned forward and when my eyes focused I began to grin. Three little lightning bolts had been engraved into this gravestone. Indy leaned forward, now just as excited as his son. "The dirt inside it suggests that it's been here for longer than one hundred years. This is it. Three strikes from god will mark his bed."

He turned to us. "Franklin wants something that's in this grave."

I nodded. "So… what now?"

"So…" Marion said with a sly smirk. "We go to buy some spades, and come back tonight."

xXxXx

Considering it was still early in the afternoon, we had about six hours to burn. "We'll go into town." Marion suggested. She smiled grimly at me. "I'm afraid I don't have any lire. Or not enough to buy you new shoes and shovels for everyone. You're going to have to stick with the ones you're wearing."

I stared dejectedly down at the two inch heels that I had strapped on. Luckily enough, I was used to that type of shoes, so I didn't have any blisters. But that could change pretty soon. I shrugged, "Don't worry, Mrs Jones. I'll be fine." She smiled at me.

Indy did have enough money, however, to buy him and Marion a coffee in one of the small coffee shops. He threw us all of his change. "Get out of here, you two." He muttered. "Permit me to spend a romantic hour in Italy with my wife."

I swear to God that Mutt almost gagged.

I laughed at him as he pulled me away quickly. I frowned. "Aren't you used to that kid of thing?" I asked curiously. "I mean, they're your parents…"

Mutt scoffed. "Only just." He muttered.

I stared at him.

"Oh…" He backtracked. "I mean, yeah they're my parents. And yeah, Dr. Jones's is the guy who fathered me. But… I only just met him a couple of months ago."

My eyebrows disappeared into my fringe. I stared at him. Was he joking? He started talking about his latest adventure and I realised that I hadn't been wrong in thinking Dr. Jones was used to this adventure thing. The Amazon? Crazy Russian Communists?

"You're not so new to this kidnapping stuff then, huh?" I asked with a frown.

Mutt chuckled. "It was intense. But I haven't really started to classify him as my dad yet. It's all a bit kookie."

I nodded. "This whole thing is kookie. Who knew Archaeology professors had such rad lives?"

Mutt shrugged, "Don't get me wrong," he muttered. "The Doc is pretty cool. He's totally on the stick. But he can be a bit of a smart ass jet, sometimes." That wouldn't surprise me about Dr. Jones.

"What about you, doll?" Mutt asked, changing the subject. "I bet you're really radioactive back in the City. Why'd you care so much about your Granddad?"

I stared at him. "He's my Granddad." I said obviously. "I love him. I wasn't that radioactive. I was more or less one of those girls in orbit just because I knew the right people."

Mutt nodded. "Oh yeah? And how'd that work out for you?"

I shrugged. "I thought it was cool. And then I talked to Freddie on the plane and he told me straight out that I was a cube."

Mutt snorted. "Bet you loved that, doll…" He stared at me, waiting for my reaction.

I rolled my eyes. "It wasn't that crazy." I muttered. "But it sort of opened my eyes. I mean, now that I think about it, my boyfriend? He's a total jackass."

Mutt looked happy with that. "Not so happy with Joe College, eh doll?"

I grinned. "Everyone's calling him that. But no, not in so many words. I realised that he's just some sort of freak who thinks sports is more important than someone's life."

Mutt smirked, pulling out his comb and running it through his hair. "What a nosebleed…" he muttered.

"Of course," I said with a quirked brow. "That's better than a boy who think his grody flat-top that's full of grease is more important than being polite."

Mutt froze. He slowly put the comb back in his pocket. "Did you just call it grody?"

I smirked up at him. "I do believe I did." I said with a grin.

"Doll, no one calls my hair grody." He warned me dangerously.

I couldn't stop grinning. "Come on…" I reasoned. "You have to admit… it is a bit… goopy?"

"Goopy…?" he echoed in an incredulous whisper.

Whoops.

I squeaked and spun on my heel, desperate to get away from the murderous looking greaser. This is what I get for speaking my mind? For taking Freddie's advice and stepping outside the cube? I yelped as I heard him shout, "Come back here, Kitty. I'm show you goopy."

From now on, I'm sticking to strictly inside the cube.

"You're over reacting!" I told him, dodging a surprised looking Italian woman.

"Over reacting?" Mutt echoed. "Cutie, you haven't seen anything yet."

This sort of running I could get used to. It was more relaxed than when I was running from the black suits, even though I was running at roughly the same pace. I suppose there wasn't the element of not knowing exactly what would happen if he caught me. In fact, a part of me wanted to stop to see what this strange greaser would do when I did stop.

I could just imagine Nancy's face if she knew I was running through a small town in Italy, laughing with a greaser who I thought was better looking than any other boys I had ever met.

I felt a pair of strong arm wrap around my waist and suddenly I was in the air. I looked down to see Mutt holding me up, but then he had flung me across his shoulder. "Hey." I protested. "I'm not some pack horse."

"Could have fooled me." Mutt said loudly.

I hit his back. "Put me down…" I ordered. "I'm fragile, remember?"

Mutt snorted. "Right. Haven't you been trying to convince me that you're not fragile?"

I shrugged. "Well, yes…" I sighed. "But I give in. I'm very fragile. So you should put me down."

He shook his head in amusement. "Not a chance, doll." He said. "If you're too fragile, I'll just have to teach you to be tougher."

That sounds painful. And Dangerous. And scary.

I gulped.

As I sat, swung over his shoulder, I saw his greased hair. The back of his hair was fashioned into a Duck Butt; the way that the grease made his hair sit, was hilarious. It was for reasons like this that I had mocked greasers like him when I was in High school and such. I giggled at the sight of his hair, but felt the strange compulsion to run my fingers through it again.

I swallowed the instinct and looked away.

"Where are we going?" I asked. I caught the eye of a woman who looked particularly aghast at my treatment. I stifled a laugh.

"Just to find somewhere to sit?"

I frowned. That didn't sound very dangerous. "What for?"

He shrugged and I bumped on his shoulder. "To make you less fragile."

I frowned, thinking about his words until he stopped and let me sit down. He had found a bench just outside of the park, to the side of the road. "Sit." He ordered, letting me off his shoulder. I did as he said, looking up at him curiously.

"Right." He said sitting next to me. "I didn't want some fragile little girl coming with us because you are fragile. So I'm gonna teach you how to look after yourself. Plus, I think you deserve a punch for insulting my hair, and I'm not going to hit an unprotected woman."

I frowned, crossing my arms across my chest. "In that case, I don't want to learn."

Mutt shook his head. "I said I don't want to. Not that I won't. Trust me, doll, and its better if you let me teach you."

I nodded. He grabbed my hand and I ignored the tingling that came form touching his hand. He proceeded to tell me exactly how to hold my hand when throwing a punch and where to aim for. "The nose is always good, as well as the jaw— even though that may hurt your hand more than it hurts them. If it gets too bad, just grab 'em and knee them in the family jewels."

I sighed. Boys…

"Yeah…" I said, letting him know I was paying attention.

"And you never hold your thumb inside of your fist, other wise you'll break it." I nodded in affirmative and he moved my thumb outside of my clenched fingers. "If you're looking to get someone away from you, the best option is to probably try and break their nose. You just get the ball of your thumb and force it into their nose, sort of pushing upwards towards their eyes. It breaks it, every time."

I grimaced, trying to imagine myself ever doing that to someone.

"Where did you learn this?" I asked curiously, looking at my own palm, visualising me shoving my hand into someone's face.

"College. I went to heaps of them before Dad came along. Learnt Fencing, taekwondo, and heaps of other stuff like that. Loads of self defence—I had a friend who was sure they were trying to train us for the Government. Only class that I didn't take was wrestling." He smirked at me. "I didn't see anything appealing in the concept of rolling around on the floor with other guys."

I smirked, having a sudden mental image of Mutt in one of those men's uni-tards. I snorted at the picture and Mutt shrugged. "You should have seen the guys who took the class. Talk about spaz."

I giggled.

Then I frowned.

Although, I had to admit, I couldn't quiet guess exactly what was underneath that leather jacket and black t-shirt of his, though I couldn't deny that it would be pretty. I could already tell that he had a classy Chassis. I know people think it's vulgar to get into that sort of relationship before marriage, but Mutt inspired sudden thoughts in my mind.

Someone needed to knock it out of me. Maybe if he hit me, I'd stop thinking of him as such a cat.

"You going to hit me then, Mutt. I did insult your flat-top." I reminded him.

Mutt thought about it for a second. Then he stood up from the bench and stood in front of me. I stared up at him. He curled his hand into a fist and brought it towards my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, but opened them when he started chuckling.

He ran his hand through my hair and I flinched, leaning away from his hand and whatever he was trying—and succeeding— to do. Then I frowned as I realised what he was actually doing to my once neat hair.

"Now whose hair is goopy, Cutie?"

xXxXx

A/N: I think I've made Mutt too entirely OOCish. But people tell me I'm doing fine. If everyone who takes the time to read this note could just post a quick review and tell me how I'm doing and how I can change it to make it better I would be extremely grateful.

Thankyou very much.

I hope you like the relationship between Mutt and Kitty. I'm sorry for the insane Mutt/Kitty centric-ness of this chapter but I'm working on getting to the good stuff. I'm also rather worried about the length. I hope everyone's satisfied with how long the chapters are.

Thanks for reading, once again and please review. I love to know what people think.

Cheers,

Grace.