AN: I so friggin' love this idea of mine! I have two other stories, A Page from a Woman's Diary and My Jackass of a Husband (both are oneshots and still in need of work) that are sorta related to this story. I've kept getting comments and reviews that say that I write the relationship between little Mutt and Indy, and Indy and Marion really well. I've experienced writing Indy as a father in my story, Idiot to Love, and I must admit I am having fun writing their dialogues. So here's the result for everyone who wants more of Mutt and Indiana together!

But most of all, I really want to thank Ellen, an anonymous reviewer in my stories, since you're the one who gave me the idea of writing this. You said you want more of stories with Mutt and Indy in it, right? Here you go, girl! Thanks a whole bunch! This one is totally dedicated to you!

As always, I don't own anything here, people, except the plot. I just borrow. Yeah, borrow.




Oh, Little Mutt

"He Looks Just Like You, Indy."




July, 1938

"Indiana Jones!"

I cringed at the sound of my wife's voice echoing through the hall. Though I should've been relieved. She is in no condition to hurt me physically or even to hold a frying pan, since she's giving birth right this instant.

Yeah, I know.

Me? A father? Damn.

"Indy! I swear, after I'm through with this, we are not going to have sex for a year!" Marion stopped to groan in pain. I blushed as the guests chuckled and threw me knowing looks. I ran my hand through my already unruly hair in an act of nervousness.

"First time?" a man asked as he sat beside me.

"First time?" I repeated, as if he was speaking some foreign language.

He laughed. "Being a dad." He nodded towards Marion's room; her agonized cries evident even from outside the closed door. "Looks like she's in so much pain," he added sympathetically.

I grimaced. "Yeah." My hand was unsteady as reached for the water jug underneath my chair. In truth, I was worried about Marion's safety more than anything. And of course, the safety of my soon-to-be son or daughter. Judging from noise she's making, she's in extreme pain.

"Of course she's in pain," came a familiar voice. I looked up, startled, and felt my tension ebb as I recognize my father's smiling face. He patted my shoulder comfortingly, and I realized he understood the pain I'm going through. "As your mother said to me just as she was giving birth to you, 'it was like forcing a basketball through a golf hole'. But she was fine."

"Great," I groaned, and covered my face with my hands. "Marion's going to kill me!"

"INDY!" I closed my eyes, hoping to wash Marion's distressed cries. I could also hear the faint chant of 'push, push, push' inside the room, but I couldn't be too sure when it was drowned by Marion crying out for my name. "INDIANA JONES!"

"Indy!" It was Harold Oxley. He was red, sweaty, and was wearing an old-fashioned suit. He stopped in front of me, worry evident in his eyes. I felt my heart go with him. He and Marion had always been close since she was a teenager, and after Abner died, Oxley stepped in the role of a loving father. "How is she?" Harold asked anxiously, glancing at the door.

I gulped. "Don't know. She's ready to give birth anytime right now, but all I could hear are threats that are out to kill me—"


I raised my eyes at Harold, who appeared relieved a bit. "See what I mean?" I murmured. "Is she dying of extreme pain?"

Dad laughed out loud. "It seems that way," he agreed, probably remembering my mother. "I couldn't touch your mother after that. I was afraid of getting her pregnant again, and she would have to go through all this again!"

I opened my mouth to retort, but at that moment, I heard it.

A cry.

I didn't know why, but I felt as if my world stopped. My heart started to beat fast, and my hands felt clammy. I could hear voices, but they sounded a bit distant. My mind wasn't working properly, and my body felt like Jell-O.

"Mr. Jones."

Harold and my father nudged me. I looked up and registered the face of the doctor who was with Marion during this whole ordeal, and I immediately stood up. I wanted to ask my wife's condition, but my throat wouldn't work.

The doctor seemed to understand it. "She's in there." He smiled warmly at me. "And congratulations! You have a son."

A son.

I felt dizzy.

My son.

"Go, Junior," I heard my father say, pushing me forward the room. "Ox and I will visit later." He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

I walked. If I did, I didn't notice. I was too caught up at the scene that I know I'll remember throughout the rest of my life. Marion, propped against a stack of comfy pillows, smiling like she won the lottery.

And beside her was the most handsome baby in the world.

Her face instantly lighted up at the sight of me, and she beckoned me towards her. "Hey there," Marion breathed in, turning up her face for a kiss. I gladly complied, putting everything I'm feeling in that simple kiss. Gratitude, adoration, but most of all, love.

"Hey," I replied, after we parted. "I heard you want me to meet someone." I stared at the boy resting against her. Our son. I sounded silly, but I didn't know what to say. I felt so giddy and excited. And it must've shown on my face, because Marion laughed.

"Indy, meet Henry Jones the Third," she said, waiting for my reaction.

"What?" The word flew out of my mouth.

Marion's eyes were laughing, but her voice sounded stern. "Yeah. Have a problem with that, Jones?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "I've been in labor for the past six hours, gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby boy, and you have a complaint against his name?"

The baby—no, Henry Junior Junior—yawned.

I sighed, giving into temptation. Another Jones, huh? I thought amusedly. Marion tucked Baby Henry in my arms and said, "Nope. Haven't got a problem with that sweetheart."

Marion smiled. She peered in and gave a mock groan. "He looks just like you, Indy," she commented.

Heck, if this baby's really mine, he'll change his name soon enough. Henry wasn't just that cool.

I dropped a kiss on top of our baby's forehead. "Welcome to the world, Henry Jones Junior Junior," I proclaimed proudly. I kissed Marion on the lips again, whispering, "Thank you so much for giving me everything I wanted and more."

Later, after Dad and Oxley (both men cried at the sight of our son, though they tried to hide it) saw Henry, Marion fell asleep and I sat beside her, watching over her and Little Henry.

"I promise I'll be the best Daddy you could ever have," I whispered, stroking Henry's soft cheek.

And he yawned, as if he agreed.

PS. I'm planning on a ten-chapter fic, but ideas may add up. Yeah. And the first one is done! Isn't it adorable? Oh, and this isn't connected to the original plot of the Indiana Jones series. This is another what-if I've conjured up. What if Indy was there for Mutt right from the start? The chapter may not be as long as the one in Idiot to Love (I updated!), but it'll sure keep you guys entertained. If you have any suggestions or comments, simply press the middle button after this message. Love you guys!