Author's Note: This is to be a Indiana Jones - Doc Savage crossover story. "Living" in the same time period, it just seemed a natural that these characters would eventually cross paths. Everyone is familiar with Indiana Jones, but perhaps readers should know I'll be referencing material from all his appearances (movies, television, and novels). The Doc Savage character may not be as familiar to some, but I'll try to bring everyone up to speed along the way. This is not meant as a novel, but as a collection of short episodes spread out over many years. As this is my first attempt at a fan fiction story, I would appreciate any comments or suggestions.

August 1936

Indiana Jones sighed heavily as Rene Belloq's rambling presentation wound down to its inevitable self-promoting conclusion. True to form, this year's Archaeological Society dinner was shaping up to be a disaster too. It was a tradition really, dating back to graduate school when he endured seeing his French rival win the annual Society Prize with his paper on stratigraphy—an effort that was obviously plagiarized from Indy's own work. And then two years ago Belloq did it again when he briefed a Rub al Khali desert expedition that Indy had planned for months, but his rival had somehow executed before him. Last year, the Frenchman had even stolen his date away with an ingratiating display of charm. Sure, Willie Scott's allure was fading anyway, but it was the principle of the matter. And now, here was Belloq again, briefing a glorious discovery of the Temple of the Chachapoyan Warriors in the South American jungle. The part about stealing a golden idol from Indy at blowgun point was neglected in the presentation, as was his frantic escape from the Hovitos Indians. Bastard. Someday Belloq would get what was coming to him.

Unable to look at the stage any longer, Indy gazed around the crowded room and saw with disgust that his archaeology peers were taking in the presentation with almost worshipful attention. Well, almost everyone. Two tables over, an incredibly thin man in a baggy suit seemed to share his distaste. Interesting. Perhaps it was another disgruntled colleague. Indy found himself wondering what had been done to this guy.

Applause interrupted Indy's thoughts and he realized that Belloq's brief was over. Tables were being cleared and scooted back for the dancing part of the evening. Dancing archaeologists. Now that would be a sight to behold. And watching would be all he did this year, because he didn't dare take Susan to such a public event. Marshall College took a dim view of professors dating students, and even New York City wasn't far enough away to chance it.

Indy pushed his chair back and sauntered back towards the bar. Standing before him was the thin man, who was rather tall too, giving him an almost skeletal appearance. Besides having a suit that clearly didn't fit, he was also distinctive by a wealth of uncombed hair and a monocle that he carried, polishing absent-mindedly with a handkerchief. He looked vaguely familiar.

"Salutations and superior tidings Professor Jones", the tall man said with a quiet scholarly voice. "An extended temporal interlude has elapsed since our previous encounter."

Indy met the words with a blank stare. "Excuse me, but was that English? I'm pretty good with languages, but I'm really not sure."

"My apologies. The neoverbalistic vocabulary is a contemporary affection of mine, which I confess is utilized primarily to exasperate my business colleagues. I will endeavor to converse less precisely. William Harper Littlejohn is the name. Do you remember me now Henry? Or should I say Henri?"