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Marion was fine. She was having a great day, got a new batch of stock in and finally sold out of the old stuff, won a deep betting pool right at the end cause some fools thought they could out drink her; the bartender!
She huffs a breathy laugh as she recalls how she'd overplayed how effected she'd been to take their guards down. Oldest trick in the book, really, all the regulars knew what was up.
The bar was lit only by the dying light of the fire, just enough wood left to burn that she would be done cleaning up without having to throw another in; she'd gotten real good at timing it now.
Or atleast, she would if she hadn't gotten another visitor.
She sees the hat and the bullwhip first, turning to face away from the door before he'd fully stepped into the building. Fury is the first thing on her mind, followed closely by heartache and what she refused to call yearning.
It'd been years since she'd seen him; the man she'd foolishly fallen in love with just to be left behind in this dump. Her heart aches at the thought he'd returned for her and her blood sings at the chance of going on another one of his adventures, just once more.
His boots make soft thumps against the floor before ending abruptly right behind her; she thinks she can already hear an apology on his lips when she spins around to slap him; only her arm gets stopped in its path.
Instead of green eyes, a kind smile, and graying auburn hair she's met with icy blue eyes, a crooked sneer, and platinum blonde. She tries to jerk her arm away but he doesn't let go. "That how ya treat everyone, doll?" Even his voice is different, mocking and accent heavy.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I thought you were- well you look a lot like someone I know. Indiana Jones?" He lets her arm go the next time she tugs, making her stumble a bit as she rubs the spot he'd grabbed.
"In the flesh." Marion pauses, startled, as the man gives her a look as if it should've been obvious.
"Huh- wait, what do you mean by that?" He rolls his eyes, the hat, Indiana's hat, fits him well. Though his clothes are, a bit different upon second glance she could definitely see how she'd mistaken it.
"Look Marion, I ain't got time for this. I need a favor, something your father found in one of our digs together-" Marion stares at the man who claimed to be Indiana as he describes the medallion tucked under her shirt, details he should've only know by being there slipping from his mouth as if it was true.
"Look doll, I'll give ya two thousand for it. It's a hunk a old metal that's jus' sitting around anyway." He'd clearly realized she wasn't paying attention as he flicks her forehead as he speaja, startling her.
"Come back tomorrow." She thinks she's going insane as the man- the not Indiana Jones- argues about waiting before eventually leaving.
Of course that's when someone considerably less tolerant comes looking for the same thing, because Indiana Jones always brings trouble- and she has to stop herself from blaming him, reminding herself that was not Indiana Jones.
Mr. Blonde Indiana Jones impersonator comes back and saves her from getting a hot fire poker to the face and she gives him the piece he wanted in exchange for letting her tag along until she gets her payment.
She tells herself its because this isn't Indiana Jones, that the humming in her blood was fury at being dragged along on another adventure and not because she had been craving this.
Naturally she's almost immediately convinced she's losing her mind when overnight the old Indiana Jones returns, just in time to reach their destination. Talking and joking like he used to, as if he'd been there the whole time.
She's too busy losing her mind about the missing doppleganger to notice she was still in love with Indiana Jones until much later, hours before he vanishes off the face of the earth again, this time taking a monkey with him.