The first thing I notice is an inexplicable sense of warmth all around me. Like I'm bundled up in some sort of blanket.

I open my eyes slowly, concentrating on breathing and waking up gradually.

The second thing I notice is the fact that my head happens to be resting on something that is not a pillow. I raise my head slightly, the musty film of sleep still whirling about my vision as I take in the sight of a shirtless Indiana Jones, his toned and tan (not to mention attractive) chest rising and falling with each breath he takes. His brow is furrowed and his eyelids flicker as he dreams. I smile and then look downward.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Last night comes back in a rush of thought, making my cheeks color and my mouth fall open. I start to sit up, but realize it's impossible, what with Indy's hand wrapped around my bare waist.

So I lie back down, nestling into his chest and placing my hand on his arm. I feel my head rise and fall with his breathing and smile to myself.

Outside the tent, the sky is a pale pale purple, the clouds sprinkled with eggshell pink. The sun, still behind the far off dunes, is rising. The purple slowly becomes an orange and then a pink and then a blue all in the coarse of a few minutes. It completely matches my mood, a wide span set of euphoric emotions that are resolved yet still running rampant.

I mull over the details of last night, because I remember them all and never want to forget them. It's not something one tends to forget; that experience. I just seem to be having a hard time taking it in; the fact that I did indeed make love with Indiana Jones. It's scandalous and very unsophisticated of me, and Abner would die if he ever found out.

But I wouldn't trade it for the world.

The sun finally peaks over the sandy mountains, bringing with it a dazzling and luminescent light that warms my naked back and face as it fills the tent with it's incandescent rays.

A sudden happiness overwhelms me and I sigh contentedly, beaming at the day before me. My throbbing shoulder is nothing compared to the absolute gaiety radiating from my heart, as completely cliche as that may sound. I find that writers like Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte missed this part of relationships when they wrote their novels, these moments where everything is so unbelievably perfect.

Like now, for example.

There's nothing that can stop me from being happy right now.

Indy suddenly stirs, groaning as he reaches up to rub his eyes. I start internally flipping out, because who knows what reaction he's going to have to this situation? I mean, it's no small thing when you wake up with another person in bed, both of you naked. What if he gets mad? What if he says this was a mistake and never talks to me again?

OR WHAT IF HE DECIDES TO ACT LIKE HARDLY ANYTHING HAPPENED BECAUSE HE'S DONE THIS BEFORE AND ALL?

Oh My God, he'd totally do that.

I lie there, sprawled across his chest (which is very comfortable, but still containing rock hard muscles) and try not to have a meltdown. I mean, Indiana Jones is so used to sleeping with girls that this probably doesn't mean anything to him. Or it will and he'll freak out just like I'm doing right now!

He finally opens his eyes, that dazed look about them as he blinks like an owl. He runs his hand through his hair and looks down at me.

"Hey there." He says groggily, stifling a yawn. He looks down at our situation and blinks for a minute, but then smiles at me.

"Hi." I squeak.

Somewhere in that moment, I feel reassured and warm again as he grins down at me. That completely blase tone in his voice sets me at ease, and I know that there was nothing to freak out about from the start. Sure, he's pretending like hardly anything happened, but at least he's acknowledging it.

"Ugh, I feel like I've been hit by a truck." He groans. "And I wasn't even the one who was shot."

I laugh lightly, enjoying the bubbly feeling in my stomach.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, looking down at me with a concerned frown.

I don't answer for a minute. I mean, how DO I feel? The word happy doesn't seem to cover everything going on inside of me. I stare back at those hazel eyes, not saying anything. How do I answer his question? I mean, my shoulder hurts, but the way my heart is fluttering I think I might be able to fly.

"Marion?" His voice is urgent as he reaches for me. "Did I hurt you last night? Shit, I swear I didn't mean to. I--... I shouldn't have done that with you if you weren't feeling well already because of your shoulder and I.."

He continues babbling for several seconds or so and finally I reach up and clamp a hand over his mouth, shushing him.

"I feel fine." I assure him, trying to communicate my emotions as much as possible with my eyes. "Better than I've felt in a long time, as a matter of fact."

For once, I'm not lying.

His shoulders sag as he lets out a shaky breath. "That's a relief. For a minute there, I thought that you were not okay."

I lay my head against his shoulder, planting a kiss on his neck.

"I'm fine." I repeat.

"I love you." He whispers, kissing me back on the forehead.

"I love you too. So much." I reply, wrapping my arms around him as his own snake around my waist.

And together we watch the remainder of the sunrise as the vibrant rays stretch across the desert.

Just to clarify, they did have sex. I know there will be some people who think that's inappropriate because Marion is only seventeen and Indy is much older than her, but guys, it's true love. I would really like some more reviews. Because that 1000 reviews goal is very reachable if I just get 10 reviews every chapter. Please? I love you all! You're the syrup on my pancakes!