Disclaimer: My friend and I do not own Indiana Jones, only the characters we made up!
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Christine
The sun shone down on the busy streets of Paris, as its citizens went about their day. A blue model A ford turned a corner as it drove toward the Eiffel Tower. A girl of fifteen with brown hair that stopped at her mid back, hazel eyes that stared at the scenery of the city in wonder. She had high cheekbones and a smile that was as bright as the sun. She was 5'9" with a slight build.
Christine turned to face her parents as they drove down the street. Her father who was forty, had short brown hair with a few strands of grey mixed in. His eyes were a deep brown and he had a small beard on his chin. He was about the same height as his daughter, give or take a few inches. He looked out the windshield of their car as he turned down a side street.
"So what do you two think of Paris?" he asked as he turned to face his wife and daughter.
His wife of thirty-nine looked at her husband with deep blue eyes that sparkled in the sun. Her long brown locks of hair twirling as she turned to face him. She was 5'10" with a slight build and a curvy frame. She smiled as she answered her husband.
"It is wonderful dear, isn't that right, Christy?" she asked her daughter.
Christine sighed as she answered her mother.
"Mum, please don't call me by my old nickname! But yes I absolutely love Paris!"
Her father smiled as he turned back to face the street, His wife, when their daughter wasn't looking leaned over and whispered in his ear.
"Richard, are you sure it will be safe for us here? Are you sure they won't find us here?" she asked worriedly.
Richard nodded his head as he glanced at her.
"Of course, Anna, He will not find us here, you can be sure of that. No one but us and our closest friends know where we are," he said with confidence.
"What are you two talking about?" asked Christine when she noticed them leaning toward each other.
Anna turned back to her daughter and smiled.
"Nothing for you to worry over, Christine, just something me and your father needed to discuss," she said.
Christine nodded and then returned to looking out the window as the buildings flew by. They stopped at an intersection and Richard looked in both directions, not seeing anything coming and started out.
SLAM!
Suddenly the driver's side of the car took a hit and the steering wheel jerked from his hands. Christine and her mother screamed as the car was sent spinning. The model A, spun like a top as it just avoided other cars that swerved to get out of the way, coming to rest on its side and finally slamming into a lamp post.
Christine groaned as she slowly sat up and rubbed her head, wincing as her hand came in contact with a small gash. A voice that sounded like it was muffled made her turn toward the front of the car. Her fathers mouth moved again, but his voice still sounded muffled, her ears then popped.
"…tine, are you alright?" Richard asked his daughter a third time.
Christine only nodded her heard in shock. Richard sighed, but then froze as he turned and looked Anna. She was draped over her seat with a large gash on her forehead, her eyes closed. As Richard began shaking his wife, the sound of a motor drew nearer and then stopped.
Richard froze again and then with a strong punch, from his time with boxing, the windshield shattered into millions of fragments. He then turned to his daughter with a look of worry on his face.
"Christine, run! Get out of here, now!" He shouted grabbing her left arm and pulling her past the two front seats.
"But why, what's wrong?" she asked as her father shoved her out of the car.
Richard shook his head, a desperate expression on his face.
"No time, run!" and with a last shove sent the fifteen year old sprawling onto the cobblestone street.
Christine struggled to her feet and was just starting to turn back to the car.
Click
"And just vhere do you tink you are going, frauline?" asked a heavily German accented voice.
Christine slowly turned to face a tall blonde haired man with sky blue eyes, dressed in a black trench coat and a black fedora on his head. In his hand he held a luger. (If you don't know what that is it's a German pistol)
Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the gun and then up at the man's face.
Suddenly a piece of siding from the car smacked the man in the side of the head. Christine looked into the brown eyes of her father as he pushed her away.
"I said run, now go!" she needed no second bidding.
As she ran away she heard the man speak again.
"After her you fools, get her!"
Christine looked back and stared in fear as two men dressed in the same type of clothes, minus the trench coats and instead of fedora's they wore black military caps. She then put on a burst of speed as she turned a corner.
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The doors of the Ritz Paris opened allowing a small group consisting of two men and a small boy to walk out into the bustling street. Indiana sighed as he looked around at the scenery of the most romantic city in the world.
"Where are we going now, Dr. Jones?" asked Shorty as he fixed his cap on his head.
Indy smiled as he stared at the boy through the lenses of his glasses. He now wore his standard suit he wore when he taught his classes, grey jacket and pants, white shirt and red tie. On his head he still wore his fedora.
Marcus wore a black suit with a white shirt and black bow tie. On his head he wore his original white hat. He had a smile on his face as he answered Shorty's question.
"We are going to a small café down the street, one of the others attending the conference recommended it, saying it served the best wine on this side of the city," he said now looking at Indy.
"They do serve food as well, Marcus!" said Indy with a chuckle.
Marcus laughed as he led then down the street towards the café. Shorty smiled as he walked beside the two men, when movement caught his attention. He turned his head to the other side of the street where a girl with long brown hair came running down the street and disappearing in the bustling crowd. Shortly after two men wearing black suits and strange hats, came into view, paused looking around and then went off in another direction.
Shorty frowned but then shrugged it off and ran to catch up with the other two.
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Christine peeked out from behind the corner of the building that she had hid behind.
The two men were not in sight. She sighed in relief and then started to walk down the street when she heard shouts from behind her.
"Oi! There she iz!" shouted a voice with a French accent.
"Hold it right there, lass!"
Christine glanced around desperately, spotting a café across the street. She dashes across ignoring the honking of horns and the angry shouts as she tore threw the door and sat in a seat, hurriedly pulling a paper in front of her face. She hoped that she had not been noticed, what she didn't know was that a man with a fedora on his head had followed her every move when she came in.
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Indiana pulled Short Rounds chair closer to the table and then sat down himself. Marcus was discussing with the waiter about the brand of wine, when the door to the café flew open. A girl of no older than fifteen entered and ran to the nearest empty table, picking up the paper resting on it and hiding her face.
Indiana raised an eyebrow as he pondered what had just happened.
'Wonder what that was about?' he thought to himself.
"Indy would you care for a glass of wine, or would you rather wait until we order our food?" asked Marcus as he looked at the menu.
Indy shook his head.
"Not right now, but thank you, can I have a glass of water though?" he said to the waiter.
"Of course monsieur, right away!" said the waiter as he placed the wine bottle on the table and left to get Indy's water.
Marcus was poring himself a small glass when the door opened again, this time two men dressed in similar black outfits came in. Indy frowned as he watched their eyes glance around the café. He then glanced at the girl's table and his eyes widened in realization when one of them spotted her and drew a small knife. As the men silently made their way towards her table, passing Indy's, Indiana made a desperate move. He knocked Marcus' spoon off the table.
"Oh, Marcus I am so sorry, here let me get that," said Indy as he stood up reaching for the wine bottle.
"No, it's alright Indy I can get it," said Marcus as he leaned down and reached under the table.
At that moment, just as the man with the knife stood behind the girl, Indy grabbed the bottle and hurled it.
CRASH!
The man gave a grunt as the bottle shattered against his head, spilling wine all over him, as he fell to the floor stunned. His companion whirled around and cried out as wine flew into his eyes, he began to furiously wiping them.
Marcus heard the commotion, sat up and noticed the bottle of wine was missing and his glass was empty. He looked at Indy.
"What happened to the wine?"
"Not now Marcus, get Shorty out of here!" shouted Indy as he pushed the small boy into his arms and rushed around the table.
The man finally cleared his eyes only to see a fist flying into his jaw, sending him stumbling into another table. While both of them were out of commission, Indy ran to the girl who was now watching the action with wide eyes. He pulled her from her seat and pointed toward Marcus and Shorty.
"Get out of here, follow them!"
She looked at him with a confused look.
"Who are you?" she asked in an English accented voice that shook with fear.
"I will tell you later now go!"
Just as she ran out the door, a fist collided with Indy's cheek. Indy spun around and swung an uppercut with his right, into the man's chin, knocking him out cold. Unnoticed by Indy, the man on the ground slowly got up and then wrapped his arms around his neck in a head lock.
"Ye didna' want to do that lad! Now ye will know why ye never attack me when me back is turned!" with that he hurled Indy crashing into another table, shattering it and sending the other people in the café running for the door.
As the man walked over and lifted Indy by the collar of his suit jacket, Indy elbowed his hard in the ribs. The scotts man gasped for breath, releasing Indy as he fell to his knees, gasping for air. Indy grabbed the man's collar, swung a fist into his face and then sent an uppercut with his left, sending the man onto his back, the man stayed down.
Panting Indy stumbled to his feet and looked at the shocked faces of the waiters, customers and even the owner. He smiled sheepishly and looked around at the destroyed tables, spilled food and spilled wine.
"Sorry about the mess," he said grinning, then he spun on his heel and strode out the door.
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-Dune and Cincinnati