At around twelve thirty that night, I wake up.

I find it hard to believe that I have slept for over twelve hours, but I guess it makes sense.

To certain degree.

I stand up and stretch, feeling slightly achy as I walk over to my sink and rinse my face. I feel a slight bit of regret as I realize I was only present for a fraction of Indy's birthday.

I lean over my basin of water and begin to wash my face, pondering whether I gave Jones enough attention for his birthday. I couldn't have slacked THAT much, I mean, I made a cake after a--.

What was that?

My head snaps up and my eyes narrow as I hear a rustling in the tent next to me.

Laughter.

I hear laughter.

And I bet the devil my soul that I know who that laughter belongs to.

But then it stops, and all is quiet.

I silently start to dry my face on my sleeve, frozen on my feet and rapt with attention, and nearly jump when the laughter starts up again.

But this time, it isn't the single, masculine laugh that makes my blood turn cold. No, this time its the feminine giggle entwined with it that makes me want to tear someone, anyone, to pieces.

In two strides, I'm out of my tent and storming into the cold night air.

As stealthily as possible, I creep a few paces to the right and slide into Indy's tent.

What I see next both horrifies and disgusts me.

It appears that the belly dancer form the 'Siren's Lair' has decided to pay MY friend a visit.

And when I say 'visit', it means she's scheduled a session of tonsil hockey with Jones.

She's ALL OVER HIM, straddling his waist and practically sucking his face off, though its clear Indy isn't being held against his will. He seems to actually LIKE kissing this woman, as well as running his hands along her bare mid-drift. They're both still fully clothed, but I can tell that won't last for much longer.

I'm rooted to the spot, my jaw clenched and my eyes wide. My pulse is thundering and my breathing sounds like that of a dying man, quick and raspy. My heart clenches painfully as I watch them in pure mortification. My mouth is dry, as if I haven't drank in years.

A sudden burst of fury rips through my stomach, and I'm knocked breathless. Colors well up inside of me, making seeing impossible. Splashes of red, green, and yellow cross my vision until I can't think. I literally want to go and beat the hell out of the little slut. I WANT to be the one kissing Indy, embracing him and caressing his face as he caresses mine right back.

The next thing I know, I'm outside the tent clutching my stomach as the colorful emotions well up inside me and wrack through my body. This has to stop. If I don't get control of this situation, I'm sure to go in there screaming.

I walk forward to the well and fill a bucket as fast as I can, not really seeing what I'm doing. It's all in a blur of color, hues and shades of the many things I'm feeling at the moment.

I walk back into his tent, ignoring the bile rising in the back of my throat when I see that she's now tugging frantically at the buttons on his shirt. I close my eyes and try to clear my mind by breathing in some of the cool evening air, but I'm past control.

I walk closer to the cot, my hands shaking violently as I support the heavy bucket of ice-cold water. Without giving it a second rational thought, I dump its contents all over the couple in front of me.

A scream and a shout are all I hear as I get to the tent flap. I turn back once to find Indy staring at me, his gaze written with something so intense that I can't even tell whether its anger or confusion.

With a sneer I run back to my tent, not caring what happens now that I've done my job. My hands are still shaking as I sit back down on my cot and bury my face in my hands. My eyes water, but I refuse to let any tears fall. What is there to cry for?

Thoughts are racing through my mind at light speed and I can't seem to even register what I have done. I clutch at my stomach again as the memory of the belly dancer kissing Indy flashes through my head. I breathe deeply, trying so hard to control myself. My shoulders shake with sobs, but no tears come down.

I'm not jealous.

I'm not angry.

I'm not...anything.

No... I AM everything.

Every emotion representing pain or anger is pouring through me, seeping into every crack and corner of my heart.

It eventually ebbs away, and I am left gasping.

I feel numb now, curled up in a ball on my small, little cot.

I know that my karma will be coming the next morning when I wake up, but I feel it still won't be enough.

I'm not sorry for what I did.

But that doesn't mean I condone it.

The entire camp is silent, and I know that the Midnight Guest has left.

I expect to feel satisfied that my mission is complete.

So why do I feel so...empty?

Wow, a lot of angst in that short, if you didn't notice. I hope that turned out to make sense. Tell me of any typos, please.

And some of you may notice, its the first time that Marion has gotten truly upset over another woman being with Indy.

Review and make my day...or DIE!!

Just kidding, luvs.