Title: Babysitting
Rated: G

Summary: Indy had faced a great deal of things in his life. How hard could it be to watch his 10-year-old granddaughter?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Joss owns all things Buffy. George and Steven own all things Indy.

AN: Absolutely no spoilers for The Crystal Skull. I wrote this actually a year ago for a longer piece (actually after hearing that they were making a sequel in the first place) so you are spoiler free here. Just remember, the Holy Grail was supposed to grant immortality (or at least a really, really long life).

When Joyce had asked him to watch Dawn while she and Buffy helped move their things to some little town upstate, Indy had been reluctant. Eventually he did agreed. After all, in his unnaturally long life, he had faced Nazis, tribes of cannibals, the literal wrath of God, and snakes. Lots and lots of snakes. How hard could watching a 10-year-old be?

To answer that question, something fragile and expensive crashed in his living room.

"Sorry," Dawn called.

Indy sighed and sat back in his desk chair. He loved his granddaughter, but he knew if he wanted to have any souvenirs of his extremely long life, he needed to keep Dawn in his sites for the rest of the day.

"Dawn, could you please come here."

Indy held his breath and waited for yet another crash, but Dawn thankfully appeared before him without destroying anything else. She had, however, found his old hat and was dragging his whip at her side. It really was amazing that something so cute could be so destructive. Not to mention manipulative.

Blinking her overly large blue eyes, Dawn said, "I'm sorry about breaking your snaky-hair girl statue, Grandpa."

So, Medusa was gone. Thousands of years buried in a hidden temple, she had survived earthquakes, volcanoes, a rickety plane ride from Greece to California, and her return to life and stone. Yet she hadn't lasted one afternoon with his grandchild. That sounded about right. Well, at least she wouldn't be coming back to life anytime soon and causing trouble again.

"It's okay, kid," he said in his best reassuring voice. "Take a seat."

Dawn flopped into the chair in front of his desk, her eyes still large and peering out at him from beneath the brim of his favorite hat. Now he needed a way to keep her occupied for the next few hours until her mother got back.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I found the Holy Grail?"

Switching from cute child to annoying teenager, Dawn rolled her eyes and sat back in the chair. "Grandpa, I'm not a little baby anymore. You don't have to make up stories to entertain me."

With a patient smile, Indy leaned forward and asked, "How do you know they're not true?"

"Besides the obvious stuff like booby-trapped temples and really old knights?" she asked, sounding more like she was twenty than ten. "Because if you and Great-Grandpa Jones were as old as you said you where when this happened, you'd be like over a hundred by now instead of like sixty-something."

"Who says I'm not?" he asked.

"Nature," Dawn said, never missing beat.

Sighing – again – Indy dropped his chin to his chest. Between a pit full of snakes and watching Dawn for the day, he'd take the snakes.

"Besides, a guy who dissolves into dust? Eww. I mean, yeah, it's not melting face guy, but sill. And why do bad guys always die such out-there like that ways in your stories? I mean, why couldn't one die by being like shot or something? Way more likely than melting."

Yeah. Snakes. Any day of the week.