Okay, so this was originally going to be just a little sequel to the previous chapter (which was formerly a stand-alone...) but I decided hey, what the hell, why not just combine them?

Since this is still a fic for quill_it, I won't be adding more chapters to this one. However, I do want to write a multi-chaptered Indiana Jones fic! So, any ideas or requests? Encouragement fuels my brain power, people, and it boosts my self-esteem! :)

If there was one thing Marion Ravenwood wasn't, it was easy. No, Marion Ravenwood was basically the complete opposite of easy, and she wasn't going to agree or succumb to anything without some kind of fight, and that included falling for Henry Jones.

Marion sighed, throwing her worn copy of Persuasion onto her duvet. Damn him. Damn him. Damn Henry Jones for coming in here, with his stupid face, and his perfectly tailored suit.

Damn him and his warm hand, and hazel eyes that had sent an invisible shock straight down her spine as soon as they had locked with her own blue ones.

Damn him for being in the room only across the hall and two doors down from hers.

Damn him for being just as devoted to and interested in the archaeological bullshit as Abner was.

And damn him for looking so attractive despite that last fact.

He didn't even want to be called Henry Jones. Just before the salad was served at dinner, he'd mentioned to Abner that nearly everyone called him Indiana anyway, and there was really no need for formalities.

Indiana. What the hell kind of a name was that, anyway? It sounded like someone's dog.

Marion ran a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers were met with a few tangles. God, she must have been a sight - tangled hair, baggy overalls, bare feet - cute. Not that it was any of Henry - sorry, Indiana - Jones' business how cute (or not cute, as the case may be) she was at any given time. He had to be at least eight years older than her, if not more, which would put him at twenty five, and off limits.

Probably.

Not that she was thinking about that, or anything.

Marion Ravenwood wasn't easy, and she wasn't going to just start swooning over some guy who just happened to be staying in her house, and just happened to be pretty handsome. It simply wasn't appropriate, especially after only knowing the guy for less than seven hours.

No, she'd give it a week or so. He probably had bad habits, anyway. Maybe he was an alcoholic. Or he smoked obsessively, or he never brushed his teeth. Maybe he was a world-class jerk, or he looked down on women. Marion nodded slightly to herself - all of those things were terrible and unattractive. He had to fit at least two of those categories, it not more. She'd be over this initial...appreciation after a few days.

And if he does turn out to be some sleazy wife-beater? Marion's stomach churned at the thought, before she shook her head - what did it matter? She didn't even know the man. This whole reflective thought process was a waste of time - Indiana Jones was going to have to wait until morning; it was too late to be going over this anyway.

Marion settled herself with this conclusion, picking up her book again, and leaning back into the pillows.

(And just for the record, her heart definitely didn't speed up and her stomach was not twisting when footsteps echoed on the stairs, turning into the room two doors down and across the hall.)