Chapter Text
It happened as quickly as turning a corner. One moment, hurrying back inside to get something and making for the kitchen. The next moment, she was face to face with a crowd of frightened people. Dancers pranced out of a dragon's mouth, trying to save face while the club descended into pandemonium and she was knocked to the floor. It was like a dream, which is what it had to be. With that in mind, as a blue vial rolled across the floor in front of her, she snatched it, pulling it towards her chest for safety.
But it didn't keep feeling like a dream. The sounds became sharper, the forming bruises where her bare knees had hit the polished wooden floor were starting to ache, and the echoes of gunfire made her jump and cover her ear involuntarily.
Head spinning she pushed herself to her feet and locked eyes with a man across the room. A man in a white suit who pointed at her and yelled something she couldn't hear over the ruckus.
He ran towards her and the closer he got, the more familiar he was until his hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back behind a rolling gong as more gunfire rang out.
"What the FUCK!"
The window in front of them broke and he jumped, pulling her with him as they tore through awnings, finally rolling over the last two and leaving them hanging over the road.
Below a car pulled up and he let go, catching her arm as he went, and they crashed down through the canopy into the back seat.
"Wow, holy smoke! Crash landing!"
She was sitting next to Indiana Jones.
"Short Round, step on it!"
She was sitting. Next to Indiana Jones.
"Okey dokey Dr. Jones, hold onto your potatoes!"
Lethargically she looked over at him and opened her palm, holding the antidote she'd picked up off the club floor. "What's going on?"
He snatched the antidote and downed it, seeming to feel better almost immediately and that was when he finally got a real look at her. She was looking around the car in a daze, clearly in shock from the whole ordeal. If he'd had half a moment and half a mind he would've gotten the antidote from her back in the club and left her there where she'd be safe. But now she was as good as his accomplice as far as Lao Che would be concerned. He'd have to take her along for now, he could send her on her way once they were safe.
"Listen, I'm real sorry doll, but-"
"How am I here?!"
"Look, that was my fault, I know, but I'll make sure…"
She mumbled to herself as they climatically drove through stands and trailed burning lights behind them. "Is this 1936?!"
"1935 actually."
He pulled out his gun and fired through the back window at the pursuing car. A couple well placed shots and several misses sent the car crashing into a stack of heavy crates, stopping it in its path. Pulling himself back into the seat he fumbled in his bag for more ammo.
"Here, hold this." He said, shoving the gun towards their new friend. When he turned back around she was empty handed. It wasn't on the floor, the seat, or her lap. He had a sinking feeling that it was on the road several hundred feet behind them.
"Where's my gun? Where is my gun?!"
"Eighty years ago?!"
Lao Che was going to be back on their tail any second, he didn't have time for her mid gunfight meltdown. He grabbed her face and looked her dead in the eye. "Once we're safe you can panic out all you want but for right now I need you to PULL IT TOGETHER!" Wait, did she just say eighty years ago?
The interruption to her panicked inner dialog was enough to bring her focus back to the actual situation and she felt a jolt of clarity hit her. Well, adrenalin at least. She was just cognizant enough to follow Indy and Short Round out of the car as they parked at the airfield.
"Ah, Dr. Jones! I.R. Webber, I spoke to your assistant over the phone and I've managed to secure three seats. But there might be a slight inconvenience as you will be riding with a cargo of live poultry."
Short Round climbed inside the plane and threw the bags aside, then pulled her out of the way of Indy who was delivering a one liner while he closed the door.
Once they were in the air Indy went into the back and changed, coming back with this suit rolled up under his arm while she sat curled up against a chicken crate, staring at the floor.
"Hey, you got a name?"
Her eyes flicked up to him and then skipped back to the floor. She didn't know what to think when she looked at him. He was everything she knew, at least as far as seeing him through a tv screen could offer. It couldn't possibly be a dream, she'd never had one so vivid before.
He sighed and knelt down next to her. "That's Short Round there and I'm Indiana Jones."
"You call him Dr. Jones!" Short Round added sharply from behind him.
"And you are?"
"Sophia." She said, with more gumption than she'd thought she could manage.
"Alright, Sophia. Listen, you're gonna freeze in here in that chemise you're wearing. Go in the back and put these on."
He handed her his rolled up clothes and she glanced down at herself trying to figure out what he meant by chemise. Tank top. He'd meant her tank top. He wasn't wrong, that and her bike shorts weren't exactly adventuring attire. "Thanks."
Ten minutes in the dingy back room of the plane had her feeling a whole lot warmer in his suit and a whole lot calmer. Well, relatively speaking anyway. Fiction being real? Ridiculous. Impossible. She was probably in a coma somewhere and went straight to Indiana Jones because why wouldn't she? She was halfway through school, literally for archaeology after all. It wasn't like growing up watching Indiana Jones hadn't had an impact on that particular interest even if he did do it terribly by modern standards. But whatever had happened to her, what else could she do but play along? On the teeny tiny chance this was actually reality, she wasn't too interested in sitting down and hoping it would end. Which right now would essentially mean dying and she wasn't too keen on that idea.
Having managed to logic her way through some of the initial shocks, she stepped back out into the cargo hold to try and find a place to sit and she was able to answer when Indy spoke from under his hat.
"Better?"
"I'd be better with a stiff drink. Or three. But the clothes will do for now. Thanks."
He chuckled, face still half covered by the brim. "Well try and get some sleep. We'll find ya some transport back to Shanghai when we land."
>>><<<
She didn't want to fall out of an airplane. She was gonna die. She didn't wanna die falling out of an airplane.
She knew she had to go to sleep, not only did she need the rest but if she was awake the pilots' plan would be shot or they'd just drag her out of the plane with them for seeing their escape. If the plane didn't crash the kids wouldn't be saved, the stones wouldn't be found and lost, and something worse might await them when they landed.
But she didn't wanna fall out of a god damned airplane!
Maybe if she'd had more time to settle in, when things like gun fights, poison, and magic were a little more second nature and a little less...less than ten hours old.
Maybe if fiction wasn't suddenly (potentially) reality?
The plane had to crash!
But why?
It had to happen one way or another and if she fucked with anything they might not crash in just the right place to not die so she had to fucking GO TO SLEEP!
Yeah. Right.
Suddenly she was wishing she'd never even heard of Indiana Jones, let alone seen the movies countless times. It would be so much easier if she didn't know what was coming.
But no, she was sitting in Lao Che's plane, flying through the mountains, with her hands stuffed into the sleeves of Indy's white dinner jacket, trying not to freeze while she awaited their fate and tried to wrap her head around whatever the hell was going on!
Nausea. No no, not now! It was just anxiety, it was fine! Let it go!
Breathe!
Stupid crashing plane! Stupid cold plane! Stupid her for missing stupid lunch!
"I can hear your damn teeth chattering all the way over there." Indy mumbled and waved her over to the empty spot next to him, above where Short Round had fallen asleep against his leg.
She was not allowed to be excited about it. Nope. Plane was crashing. No excitement to be had about an offer to sleep on Harrison Ford's chest. Or so she lied to herself as she switched to the other side of the plane and curled into a ball next to him. His arm flopped over her shoulders and he shifted a little before going back to sleep.
There was no way it would be enough to lull her to sleep, the plane was going to fucking crash. But hours had passed since the club, since she…showed up. The only thing she was running on anymore was fear and anxiety and that could only hold out so long. Which wasn't going to be very long it seemed as his hand sleepily brushed her hair back from her face before going back to her arm and she sank into his chest.
If she was going to maybe die at least she could enjoy being cast as his love interest for a few hours.