A/N I mean don't most of us just want to fuck Indy but get cock blocked by cults?
A distraction was what he'd promised and it was what he'd delivered. She'd given to his hands and his lips and his hot breath against her neck, sinking into his arms and taking advantage of every second.
There was no keeping track of time, and she made the conscious decision to not care. If they were late to the cult they were late, if they were early they were early. Who was she to try and hold it all together? What she knew for sure was she was scared, Indy was Indy, and so far
the only thing making her feel better was his body pressing against hers while he kissed her. At least until he spoke again.
"Why don't I take you back to your room?" He hummed. "I can be an even better distraction there."
Fear shot through her again and she froze. Her room wasn't safe, going back meant the end of anything remotely normal and the start of all the horrible things that would happen before they escaped. Indy though, clearly thought it was something else.
"Woah, hey now, it was just a suggestion." He pulled back and put his hands on her arms. "I'm not tryin' to talk you into anything. I just thought we were…you know…thinking the same thing here…"
"It's not that." Sophia said, feeling guilty that he thought her visceral reaction had been to his suggestion of a good night together. In all honesty if there hadn't been a heart stealing cult downstairs she wouldn't have thought twice about it.
"Then what is it?" When she still didn't answer he pressed further. "Sophia, something's got you awfully spooked and it's not the snake surprise. Tell me what's going on."
His tone rubbed her the wrong way and she stepped back, popped herself up onto the stone island behind her and curling her fingers over the edge. "Lost magical stones, Thuggee cults that practice human sacrifice, and zombie-like palace servants that harken to potential mind control techniques? What's there to be spooked about? Not to mention almost dying in a plane crash hours after being shot eighty years into the past with no apparent cause."
"There you go with that time travel story again!" He threw his hands in the air and walked a few paces away from her. "If you don't wanna tell me what really happened then fine! Don't tell me. But don't keep going out of your way to feed me some crazy story about you being from the future, alright?!"
"Believe me about that or not, I don't really give a shit. But having done the actual research on this whole heart ripping sect you should at least believe me about the danger we're in here." Granted her actual research was disproving the entire movie's racist depiction but still, it had been done. "So while I'd love to take you back to my room and let you fuck me senseless, I don't think we're gonna be that lucky with our time here."
He picked her up and set her feet back on the floor, then took her hand and started leading her out of the kitchen.
"And what exactly are we doing now?" She grumbled, following without resisting simply because she'd rather he drag her through the palace than be left alone to get kidnapped.
"Taking you back to your room so I can go back to mine and we can both get some sleep. Separately."
Sophia rolled her eyes and went along silently, watching him with a tired expression as he opened her door for her and waited for her to go through. "I'm not saying I don't wanna sleep with you, you grumpy bastard. I'm saying cults are boner killers."
"Goodnight, Sophia." He said tensely.
She walked through the door, he shut it behind her, and two seconds later his own door thudded shut. There would be a few minutes before things went to shit so she paced, looking down at her slippers several times and wishing for boots or tennis shoes or anything less prone to…well, bug infestation. Her silk pajamas weren't exactly going to be the greatest, but there weren't any other options either.
Poking her head out her door she listened carefully, creeping up to his door and leaning in to hear if there was a fight going on.
"Time travel." She heard him mutter. "I'm a grumpy bastard?"
"You are a grumpy bastard." She mumbled to herself.
Then it fell silent and she kept waiting. And waiting, praying nobody would walk down the hall and see her standing there with her ear nearly pressed against his door. Then the crash came and she pushed through the doors, finding Indy struggling with the Thuggee cult member who'd pulled a garrote against his throat.
With no weapons and afraid she hit Indy if she tried to slam something into the guy, she jumped on his back and snaked her around his neck, choking him just like he was trying to choke Indy. It got his attention enough that he let go of the garrote and stumbled backwards, grabbing at her arms.
In front of them Indy coughed and choked on his knees, taking a second before being able to get back up and address the issue at hand. By the time he did, the Thuggee passed out and his body snaked down into a heap on the floor.
"See?" She said, breathless from the adrenalin. "I told you I had a bad feeling about all this."
"Shorty!" He snapped, waking the boy up. "Get our stuff." Indy then grabbed her by the arm and dragged her with him into her room where he investigated every mural and screen in the place.
She stood by the bed with her arms crossed nervously and watched as Indy noticed the airflow on a vase of flowers. Eyes wide and frantic he followed it to the wall and she couldn't help but agree with Willy in that she'd have been much happier if it had been her boobs Indy was grabbing instead of the statue. Maybe if she made it out of this alive…she'd what? What would she do in 1935? Where would she go with no identity?
Indy and Shorty disappeared down the passageway while she brought her existential crisis to a screeching halt, rooting herself firmly in some denial and compartmentalization instead. She could figure out what to do with her life if she had one to do something with when the story was over.
Sophia finally made the move to follow and jumped when Indy's head popped out of the darkness. "Jesus Christ!"
"Come on, you'll be safer with us."
One hand firmly clenched around the bottom of his jacket, Sophia followed. The first crunch sent a sharp shiver down her spine and she tried to ignore the feeling as bugs crawled their way over the top of her feet.
"I step on something." Shorty said worriedly.
"Yeah, there's something on the ground." Indy drawled, hesitant to think too hard about it.
"Feel like step on fortune cookie."
"Let me take a look."
Sophia pinched her eyes shut and tried to urge him forward with her hand on his back when he paused to reach into his jacket. "Indy please don't light that match."
It was too late, he struck it and the flame lit up just enough to see the floor glitter and crawl underneath them.
A particularly large one crawled across Shorty's leg. "That's no cookies!"
"It's alright, I've got him." Indy plucked the bug off and tossed it aside, then shoved Shorty towards an offshoot of the hallway. "Go. There! Go."
Sophia stopped right at the edge, right outside where the door would close, cringing as the bugs went further and further up the legs of her pajamas and they fell into her hair. "Everybody stop moving!" She snapped, pulling both Indy and Shorty to a halt.
Indy turned to her slowly. "What?"
"There's a pressure switch on the floor right in front of Shorty and more somewhere along the walls. Just walk straight across very carefully and avoid anything weird." Her shoulders seized up as something crept under her collar. "Quickly! Please!"
Tiptoeing behind Indy, Short round avoided the pressure switch she pointed out and only once they were both beyond the next doorway would Sophia move. Keeping one eye on the switch she bolted, skidding past the two and frantically swatting at every limb. Her tenuously held calm on the other side of the door was gone and it took another minute or two of shaking out her clothes and Indy picking at her hair before it looked like they'd gotten them all.
"You two fucking owe me." She grumbled.
Indy took her hand, heading forward. She drew close to him again, well over the feeling of self consciousness about literally holding onto his arm for the small vestige of comfort it provided. She was about to see somebody's heart get ripped out, she wasn't there to pretend it didn't scare the ever loving hell out of her.