DISCLAIMER/NOTE: I don't own Indy, Mutt, or Sallah. I only own Kris, as of now. And here's the next chapter… a bit of a long one, but I'm prone to babble in my stories. Mutt might seemed a little OOC here, but that's just because he and Kris had hated each other for two years now, so…
Thanks to Time and Fate, FlyingHampsterOfDoom, and iccle fairy for reviewing!
He was everyone's favorite teacher; I was no exception. Although Professor Jones wasn't the youngest teacher there – a fact that my hormone-struck classmates seemed to find very important; perverts – he was exciting, and seemed to know everything as though he had seen it hands-on, which much of the material, he actually had. I was maybe one of two, possibly three students that were aware of his 'other' job, and I had no inclination to tell anyone. I mean, I had been eavesdropping on something that wasn't my business… if you call being forgotten in the back of the classroom while taking a test eavesdropping. Most people don't, so I have a clear conscience on that. In fact, there was only one thing that was bad about Professor Jones' class; the person that sat behind me. Damn that Mutt Williams, or whatever name he had decided on using that day. He seemed to pass all of his classes, but how was a mystery to me; he was an insolent, smart-mouthed grease-monkey – a word I use for him as I pointedly ignore that I've hijacked a few cars before, which is quite a bit worse than that – with no respect for anyone of the opposite gender. Well, maybe he has respect for his mum, but certainly not for me, as I've learned the hard way. Multiple times.
Today was no different. Kicking the back of someone's chair isn't too bad; it's simply annoying, but throwing pens at the back of that said someone's head is messy, and a good deal painful, too. The first two, I had managed to duck, and let them hit the papers in front of me with a muffled thump, but the third one struck me soundly behind one ear. Growling to myself, I took a quick look at the Professor; good. He was still in a long speech about ancient Egypt, and currently was looking in this direction. I picked up the pen, and turned around to glare at the boy behind me.
"Damn it, Mutt." I hissed. "Cut it out!" I chucked the pen back at him, and quickly faced back front. I heard whispers behind me, and knew that he was laughing about my response with his friends that sat nearby. Letting out a slow breath, I went back to writing the notes, even though I had researched about Egypt multiple times, and knew all of the information he was saying anyway. Mutt poked me hard in the back with a pen – surprise, surprise – and with another slow exhale, I turned halfway around. "What? Need to try and get ink on my face, too?" For a moment, there was silence, and then it spoke. Yes; I often referred to him as an 'it.' Made me feel better; I couldn't help it.
"Owch – why so touchy? Well, I guess being alone in the house almost all the time does something to your brain…" I ground my teeth, and attempted to keep calm. He always got under my skin, but now that he found out that my dad had left my mum and I a couple years back, and that she wasn't home that much, he was doing his best to make my life a living Hell, and was succeeding marvelously. "Yes, that must be it… she's probably bringing a different guy home every night. What a slut…"
"That's it!" I snapped; instantly, the class went silent. I stood up, my chair tumbling down behind me. I spun around all the way, stepping up the last step. Mutt had stood up; although he was a full hand, most likely more, taller than me, I grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him down so we were on eye level. "Don't. You. Dare. Say. That. About. My. Mother!" He ducked as I tried to punch him, and pulled my legs from underneath me, and I proceeded to begin falling down the steps; as I fell, someone caught me from behind, keeping me from falling and hurting myself. The class, which had begun yelling as the short fight ensued, fell silent yet again. I slowly looked up, feeling dread pool to the bottom of my stomach. Professor Jones helped me back up, and looked back from me, to Mutt. I felt the beginnings of a flush go to my cheeks, but I bit it down, settling to stare defiantly – well, as defiantly as I could manage – back at my teacher.
"Mr. Jones, Miss Emerson, see me after class. Both of you, sit down." I proceeded to pick up my chair, and sit down, gripping the edge of my desk hard. For a moment, everyone was staring at Mutt and myself; thankfully, the bell rang at that moment, and everyone made a swift and strangely silent exit out the door. I shoved my things into my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and walked down to stand in front of the teacher's desk. Mutt came down and stood next to me, pushing his hair back with a comb. Well, I had to give him one thing; he cared about his personal hygiene. Not all the boys did, and those who didn't, well, everyone certainly knew who they were… it was hard not to. Professor Jones walked from the door to stand behind his desk, facing us. For a moment, he simply looked down at the wood, but slowly looked up to stare both of us – how he could at the same time, I'll never know – in the eye. I shifted uncomfortably.
"Would one of you care to explain?" Mutt and I glanced at each other – all right, mine was more of a glare – before looking away. Both of us were silent as the professor looked back and forth at us. "All right; maybe I wasn't making myself clear. I want one of you to tell me why you started fighting in my class. Now." I exchanged glances with the boy still standing next to me; I wasn't going to rat him out, and get grief for it later. I wasn't an idiot. To my surprise, I heard Mutt say something under his breath; automatically, his father turned to stare him down. "I didn't quite catch that."
"I said, I insulted someone who I didn't know she was that close to." He muttered, looking over the professor's shoulder. Against my wishes, I snorted, causing both of them the look at me; well, he had attempted to tell the truth, so I was in the clear.
"Of course. No one's close to their mothers, ay? So of course I wouldn't mind if you insulted her. Silly me." Mutt turned to face me, and I saw that his hands were clenched into fists. Immediately, I fixed my posture so that if he tried to hit me, I could duck – after a year of this already, I knew what to expect from him. Another thing I had to give him; he taught me to be able to fight. Well, at least hit.
"Well, you didn't have to go and overreact like that." Mutt argued back, clearly getting angry. Hey, that was no surprise; I was already furious. "You tried to punch me!"
"Well, you tripped me!"
"As self-defense!"
"So the pens were also in self defense?"
"Yes, idiot!"
"Jerk!"
"Nerd!"
"Git!"
"Hey! Both of you! Shut up!" Although I was still a hand and a half shorter than Mutt, we were once again staring at each other, hostility practically radiating about us. Professor Jones' shout caught us both by surprise (Well, at least me. I had never been told to 'shut up' by a teacher before… I wasn't sure about the person standing next to me). He came around his desk and forcibly pushed both of us apart. "You two - " The sound of feet thundering down the footsteps cut him off. We all turned to look at the door (or, in my case, simply look up, seeing as I was facing the door already), and I flinched as the door banged open. A slightly elderly man skidded to a halt inside the classroom, pausing for a moment to lean on his knees and regain his breath. He appeared to be Indian, or something along those lines – Egyptian, Iraqi, etc. – and had dark brown hair, and a beard. He looked up, glancing behind him as though something was chasing after him.
"Indy!" He panted. "They're coming!" The professor seemed to not understand for half of a second, and then swore. The man slammed the door shut, and began piling chairs against it, while the professor – whom the man had confirmed my suspicions about him being Indiana Jones – dragged Mutt and I to the back of the classroom, where the supplies closet was. As we went back, the idiot – I presume you know who I mean – was questioning his father about what was going on, to which the professor replied with a multiple 'Not now!'s. He threw open the closet, and pushed both of us inside. As the door began to shake as someone hit it, Mutt's accusations grew more and more heated.
"Junior, not now. I'll explain everything later – and don't leave until you hear nothing out here, got it?" Without waiting for an answer, Professor Jones – Indiana – slammed the door shut. Beyond him, I saw the front door bang open, the chairs scattering. Mutt and I fell silent as the darkness swamped in, and we both listened outside the door to what was going on outside. A voice was shouting beyond the door, and the professor was answering back in a yell, and the man was attempting to interject; other voices joined the first one, and the sound of loud thumps echoed past the door. I felt, rather that saw, Mutt lunge for the door and try to get out; I grabbed his arm as it flew past me, pushing him back. I had never been in a situation like this before, but it was my guess, that when someone hid you on purpose, getting yourself killed wasn't the smartest thing in the world. Only a hunch, of course, but apparently, the person with me didn't think so. He struggled, but as the noise outside grew louder, I kicked him, and he fell silent. The sounds of a scuffle were going on, and something that sounded suspiciously like… the crack of a whip? I heard the shattering of broken glass, and a scream of pain. Suddenly, a noise that even I would recognize made everything go silent… it was the firing of a gun. From the lack of shouts, I guessed that it had been a warning shot, and nobody had gotten hit. Voices conversed outside again, and the sound of feet preceded the slamming of the door, and then… silence. We waited noiselessly, but as the minutes ticked by, we began to realize that… no one was there. Whatever had happened outside the door was over, but apparently, either there was no one left to get us, or we had been forgotten. As that thought crossed my mind, Mutt yanked his arm away, and began banging on the door, and trying to open it. He swore, and hit it again, clearly furious.
"Locked!" He muttered, and began to hit it again. Sighing, and mentally rolling my eyes, I went through my pocket and found my small set of lock-picks. I shoved past him, and knelt by where the sliver of light showing where the lock was fell. Sizing it up for a moment, I went through the selection I had with me, chose two, and proceeded to pick the lock. The door swung open, and I looked up to see Mutt's startled face. "How'd you – how'd you open the door?"
"I picked the lock." My voice was matter-of-fact, and I could tell that my expression was amused as I stood, and opened the door all of the way…
NOTE: Hmm… I love cliffhangers, even if they aren't that good, so there you are. nod