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

It was Franklin who woke me up when the plane landed. Even though I was leaning on Mutt's arm, a very effective and nice smelling pillow, it was my Grandad who walked across the plane and down the aisle to shake my shoulder and say, "Kat. The planes about to land. Get all your things organised."

I did as he had asked, quickly waking Mutt myself and smiling at him shyly when he momentarily refused to move his arm from around my shoulders. I had only left Mutt's room late that night, after the majority of the night was spent making out on his lounge. It was different to kissing Scott, who was always so rough and expectant. Mutt kissed me gently, despite all the leather and the motorbike I was sure he had stowed away in his home garage.

He had kept his arms around my waist the entire night. Different to Scott who would always try and grope me, just when I would begin to think he was doing decently. Of course, Mutt didn't stop calling me Doll, but he did apologise for judging me.

I thought it was nice. Something so new and unfamiliar. Scott never apologised for any mistakes he made. They were simply stowed away and forgotten. Mutt had actually apologised. It was nice. It was new. It was comforting.

The breakfast was and all you can eat buffet, which was were only allowed into because of Indy's connections. I wasn't complaining though, as I walked in a saw all the food. I noticed, that I hadn't really ate much since the start of this journey, and instantly my plate was full of Bacon, pancakes and a variety of spreads for my four slices of toast.

Franklin was on his third bowl of cereal. The people who had fed him whilst he stayed with Sawyer had generally given his a small slice of bread and milk, for every meal of the day. When I offered him some toast, I actually saw him pale a bit. He politely turned it down and then hurriedly took another mouthful of his cereal.

Indy and Marion hadn't both gotten a large stack of pancakes, sitting perfectly on top of one another—the pancakes, not Marion and Indy—and them smothered them in syrup, sugar and all the other possible toppings. They were sharing breakfast, occasionally picking pieces off their spouse's plates that looked particularly delicious.

Mutt hadn't bothered with the plate. Instead, he had simply picked up one of the large black serving trays and filled that with food. A serving of every single meal that was on offer sat on his plate. Bacon and Eggs, Cereal bowl, Toast, pancakes, and much more. Little Danishes and pastries decorated the tray as well, and he now sat in front of it, debating where he should start.

I smirked at him and his stupidity, sitting down opposite him. "Got enough there?" I asked.

He grinned at me. "Not nearly enough, doll."

I rolled my eyes and looked at my own food, stabbing a piece of bacon with my fork.

For the majority of plane ride, I sat, nested under Mutt's arm as we attempted to get comfortable in the plane. He had pushed up one of the arm rests, which moved, up and out of the way, letting me lean on him while the plane was still stationary and on the floor. It was a good thing, I suppose, that Franklin, Indy and Marion were all on the opposite side of the economy class seats, diagonally ahead of us.

"I can't believe this is happening." I muttered to him.

Mutt chuckled. "Yeah. What are you going to tell your friends? They're not going to be too happy finding out you made out with someone like me."

I nudged him with my elbow and let out a sigh. "That's a wall I'm just going to have to face when we get back to America. When all of this is over." At the word, "This" I motioned all around.

I think Mutt got the point.

"Speaking of home, doll…" Mutt said. "Are we just going to go back to our old lives? You back to New York City to stay jacketed to your Football captain, and me back to Bedford to keep the multiple single girls happy?"

I frowned at him. "I don't know." I sighed. "I know that I'm not going any where near Scott. I mean, sure the guy took a bullet for me. But he regrets it. He told me that he regretted it."

Mutt frowned. "He is a jackass."

I looked up at him, my hands resting on the arm that was wrapped around my waist. "You're not much better," I told him with raised eyebrows. "You're a jack ass as well."

Mutt looked down at me and smirked, catching my eye. "Yeah, but you knew that before and you still kissed me."

I laughed indignantly. "You kissed me," I muttered. "I didn't have anything to do with it."

Mutt chuckled. "Right. So that wasn't you kissing back?"

I didn't have an answer, so I just blushed and went back to playing with the sleeve of his leather jacket. He chuckled some more, before becoming interested in the magazine that was stowed in the back of the seat in front of him. Because of the nonexistent conversation between the two of us, I found t easy to fall asleep. It was nice, being able to finally sleep properly.

"Alright," Franklin explained in hushed tones, as he, Indy and Marion all ushered us through the Athens airport. "We haven't checked into any hotel yet, so we have time to see if we can find anything more to do with the temple and the statue. We're catching a bus to Elis—"

I frowned. "What's Elis?" I asked. "I thought we were going to Olympia."

No one mentioned anything about any places called Elis. It was all, 'Olympia,' and 'Athens' and 'France' and 'Salvaator.'

Mutt smirked. "Doll, Olympia is inside Elis."

I frowned, silent for a moment as everyone stared at me. Then I pouted, and folded my arms defensively across my chest. "You already say I'm fragile on a daily basis," I reprimanded the smirking greaser. "Don't even think about starting up on my intelligence."

It was Indy that hit Mutt upside the head when he muttered something that sounded like, 'What intelligence?'

I smiled gratefully at Indy. Indy tipped his fedora in my direction before linking arms with Marion and walking through the Airport.

"As I was saying," Franklin continued with obvious amusement. "—We'll be leaving for the bus station to Elis in about three hours so we all have time to utilise by researching and working on what else could possibly help us find it before Sawyer."

I stared at Franklin. "You've been doing this since 1906. Don't you think you've done all the research that you could possibly do?"

But, alas, Franklin shook his head and sent both Mutt and myself straight to the English section of the nearest library—which he located on the first tourist map he could find.

I sat surrounded by books inside one of Athens's Libraries, in the English section.

"Alright." Mutt began, looking up at me from where his head was buried in an ancient looking text book.

Did I mention how surreal it is to see a greaser inside a library—and not attempting to burn the books with his lighter?

"So, the Temple of Zeus was built in Olympia, in about 470 BC to 456 BC. It was the most famous sanctuary in Greece, dedicated tot heir supreme God, Zeus. Chief of the god fought with lightning bolts and ruled the rest of the gods, being the father of the mighty Hercules—yadda, yadda, yadda." Mutt rolled his eyes and looked up at me.

I grinned at him. "I'll give you ten bucks if it actually says that in there." I motioned to the text.

Mutt slammed the book shut. "It was in there." He said.

I smirked at him, before looking back at my own book.

"It housed the cult statue of Zeus, which has become one of the Seven Wonders of the World. The statue was approximately thirteen metres high and was made by a renowned sculptor named Phidias, in his workshop in Olympia. The statue took Twelve years to complete. On the statues head there was a sculptured wreath of Olive Sprays and in his right hand he held the figure of Nike—the goddess of victory. In his left hand was a sceptre with an eagle perched on top. He wore a robe, and sandals both made from gold. The robe was carved with animals and flowers. The throne was decorated with gold, precious stones, ebony and ivory. It was the most famous artistic work in Greece. It also—"

Mutt held up his hand and made a choking noise. "No more. I think I got it."

I frowned at him. "Do you really?" I consulted the book again. "I mean, it really was wonderful. It was made of gold and other priceless things, and it was thirteen metres tall. The time and work that must have gone into making this thing is amazing. Not to mention how much it showed that these people devoted their time and work to their gods and—"

Once again, I was cut off.

"Doll," Mutt said, "Seriously. You're killing me."

xXxXx

"I hate buses."

Due to the fact that I declared this rather loudly on a relatively uncrowded bus, I did receive a dirty look from the driver. Franklin gave me a disapproving look at this and my only possible reply was to explain that we're in Greece, and I thought they all spoke Latin. And then Mutt had to put his two cents in and mention that Latin was a dead language and no one spoke it.

So then I took to ignoring Mutt, and make my attempt at the very challenging task of joining Franklin in a conversation about Archaeology.

"Is this what it's like all the time?" I queried.

"Archaeology?" He repeated. Franklin smiled, almost wistfully, and then nodded. "It's always seemed this way to me. Discovering new things and making sure that everything we do is documented and recorded. It's history in the making. Making the discoveries that no one else has made. Setting eyes on things that people haven't set eyes on in years. Even things that no one has ever seen before."

"Like dinosaur bones?"

Franklin chuckled to himself. "I suppose so, yes, dinosaur bones count in that way. I've never discovered a dinosaur bone."

Good thing too—he'd probably want it named after him and then there'd be a Franklinsaurus out there.

I didn't say that out loud, of course.

I watched Franklin in his seat. He was fiddling with a small thread on his own dirty worn blazer, grinning to himself, and then grinning at me. And then grinned back down at the thread. He was literally almost bobbing in his seat.

"You're like some kid in a candy store." I mused looking at him. "It's kind of sweet."

Franklin was silent for a moment, his hand freezing at the thread and he looked up at me smiling at me in astonishment.

"Your grandmother said that exact same thing to me, the year after I got back from Rome the first time." He chuckled, "and then your mother when I gave her the rings. They must have both known nothing good would come from them."

I smiled comfortingly. It was obvious from the way that he reminisced that he loved Grandma and Mum more than anything in the world. He kept their favourite things in our apartment. Things of Elaine's that reminded Franklin of her, like an old cardigan, which I had once found him smelling and crying into and one or two of her favourite books. Then there were the obvious photos of her scattered around the house, one in every room. And there were things like pictures that she had embroidered, and scarves she had sewn we had framed.

He also had things of Mum's. Molly Roberts who had married Richard Jenkins. We kept their wedding photos. And her Wedding Dress hung in the back of one of our cupboards, ready for my big day. We kept her school projects and her letters to Richard which I had read when I turned eighteen. They were pretty funny, beginning off with 'I hate yous,' and ending with 'I love yous.'

I felt a pang when I realised that everything he treasured about Grandma and kept for Mum had probably been ruined when Sawyer's men went through our apartment.

"You look just like her," Franklin said to me, "Your mother," He verified. "It's uncanny. She had the same shape face as you," He told me. He twisted his body and reached out for my hair. "The same sort of hair,"

I reached up and fingered my brown locks, smiling to myself. Franklin often told me that I looked like her, but never how I looked like her. It was nice, knowing what I had to remember her by.

Franklin let out a sigh. "Which is why I need to talk to you."

I frowned. The loving atmosphere seemed to fizzle, for a reason unknown to me.

"I'm going to leave you at the hotel..." He said loudly.

I stared at him, jaw dropping. "What?" I asked instantly, misunderstanding. "Where are you going? I just got you back. You're not going off on your own. For one, that'd tick the Jones off, you ditching us again."

Franklin opened and closed his mouth once, before swallowing and folding his hands in his lap. He took a deep breath.

"I mean, Kat," He said to me quietly. "You won't be coming with myself and the Jones."

I stared at him.

No.

Way.

I had done so much to find him, and find what he needed and wanted. There was no way he was cutting me out of this. I shook my head wordlessly.

I vaguely noticed Mutt's head turn in our direction, not too obvious. But I could see he was listening.

"—See, Kat," Franklin started talking again. "—your mother and your grandmother always thought that Archaeology was dangerous, or at least my techniques. And I always told them that it wasn't. That it was an amazing job that made me feel alive and I couldn't imagine doing any thing else. It's kind of obvious then, that I was wrong. I've brought you into this complicated dangerous life and I swore to those women that I would keep you safe. So I'm not letting you come any further."

I literally could not reply.

My jaw was hanging off its hinges, and my throat was dry.

My eyes were watering, and I didn't even move to get the hair that had fallen in my face out of the way.

"You understand, don't you?"

...

"No!" I said forcibly. So forcibly in fact, that Franklin jumped, leaning away from me.

I twisted myself in my seat. "No." I repeated. "No, no, no, no..." I was so frustrated with him that my hands shook as I struggled to find something to do with them. Finally I clenched my fists and rested them in my lap.

"You are not blocking me out of this." I told him firmly. "I am part of this. If it wasn't for me you'd still be by yourself tied up with Sawyer. And I'm not letting you cut me out of this thing."

Franklin shook his head. "This is beyond you Kat," He told me. "You're not ready for something like this."

"Don't!" I interrupted him, holding my hand up. "Don't you dare say that I can't do this, or I can't handle this, or I'm too weak to handle something like this."

Franklin frowned, opening his mouth to protest. I didn't let him.

"I have spent the past few days seeing more things than I ever imagined. I have dug up a grave, flown in three planes, squatted in a housing development, punched a guy in the face, avoided Sawyers muscle men by—" my eyes widened.

Franklin didn't need to know that, no matter how bad the situation.

"—hiding…" I finished.

Mutt coughed, in front of us, obviously amused.

I made a mental note to punch him.

"I have found out things about the past that I think are amazing, and now you're telling me to just shut up and sit down?" I shook my head. Franklin opened his mouth to talk, but I continued my tirade. "I am not going back the same person," I told him. "For one, my life back home is ruined, because for some reason, I can finally see how horrible my old friends are."

"This is too dangerous for you, Kat."

I paid him no attention.

"And another thing," I continued, "I don't care what you say. You are my grandfather. The only living family I have left and if you think that I'm just going to let you up and go into a situation like this, then you have another thing coming to you."

"You're too young."

"And you're too old." I told him loudly. "You're seventy six years old. By all right, you should be sitting at home nursing your garden, and preparing yourself for a nursing home. So don't you tell me what I can't handle. I'm twenty years old, and therefore, I can make my own decisions. And I am not leaving this search before it's completed fully. And if you even think about suggesting that again—I swear to God, that I'll tie you up and leave you in the hotel room myself."

As I was sitting on the aisle seat, I found it easy to get up. I joined Mutt on his seat, ignoring Marion's and Indy's alarmed looks, darting from Me to Franklin, and Mutt's awkward look. Finally, he decided on an action and lifted his leather jacketed arm, resting it on my shoulders.

I inhaled deeply, memorising his leather scent again, and then closing my eyes, trying to forget what Franklin had said, and more importantly, the ideas he had brought to the front of my mind.

What would my parents think seeing me do this?

xXxXx

A/N: Thoughts? Queries? Comment? Questions?

Your reviews for this story have all been overwhelming so far and I am sorry for the big gaps between updating. I'm just having some bad writers block—even though I know exactly what to do for the rest of the story. I'm on holidays as well, so I should have more time to finish. I will endeavour to finish in the next two weeks but yehh...I'm not going to make any promises because you'll all hate me.

Please, all are welcome, and I would love you readers to review. This story has been favourited and story alerted quite a lot, but how is that any less difficult then clicking the prettier button and typing just a little feedback?

All I mean is PLEASE REVIEW!

I hope you liked this chapter, and I'm off the write the next chapter as we speak.

Cheers.

Grace.