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Indy and Mike's Suite
Moon comes to the door, her arms fully of three-week old grey-brown fluffness and knocks.
Mare is by her side, eyes moving between the door and the puppy. The puppy, it should be said, looks like he is not two weeks old, but more like six. He's big and alert and quite happy, squirming in Moon's arms.
She'd promised Indy the puppy, and when she'd seen the little boy among the litter, she'd known this guy was the one meant for Indy.
Moon waits with a big smile on her face, giggling quietly as the puppy licks her chin and nips playfully on occasion.
Mare is by her side, eyes moving between the door and the puppy. The puppy, it should be said, looks like he is not two weeks old, but more like six. He's big and alert and quite happy, squirming in Moon's arms.
She'd promised Indy the puppy, and when she'd seen the little boy among the litter, she'd known this guy was the one meant for Indy.
Moon waits with a big smile on her face, giggling quietly as the puppy licks her chin and nips playfully on occasion.
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Says Mike with a sniff of smug.
"All I'm saying is that if there's damage in this apartment due to rough-housing, that everyone who rough-houses is responsible for it. Doesn't matter who starts it, the person who continues it is just as much to blame."
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Indy wrinkles his nose resignedly.
"But... I guess you're right."
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...
He....he's turned into...HIS FATHER!
Stunned into silence, all he can do is nod.
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"Your Papa and your Uncle are missing screws," she giggles. "Yes, they are. And I don't think you'll find those screws in a junk drawer around here. Knowing them, they've used those essential screws to haphazardly repair a refrigerator magnet."
Her eyes sparkle with deep amusement as she looks between Indy and Mike. Never a dull moment around the two of them!
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"You've obviously never checked out our junk drawer."
Truly, it's the unrivaled king of junk drawers, as Veronica once discovered (http://henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com/55060.html?thread=2113044#t2113044).
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Mike knows because he took that particular item out last week.
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"No jam gun? Well, that's not much fun, is it?"
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"I thought we had a jam gun," he says as he makes his way over to the infamous junk drawer. A few moments are spent fruitlessly rummaging through the clutter before he makes sense of the situation.
The drawer slams shut.
"Well, I'm sure it's fun for whoever's now in possession of it," he states rather pointedly in Mike's direction.
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Says Mike, suspiciously devoid of any amount of smug.
Only...you know, the opposite of that.
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Moon decides, quite solidly, she likes being around Mike.
Then she looks at Indy.
"No Name still has no name," she points out. "It's not nice not having a name."
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"You're gonna force my hand on this, aren't ya?"
He removes the pup from Moon's arms and brings it up in front of his face, so wolf and man are looking directly at each other. He stares searchingly at it for a while... until the pup cranes its neck forward and licks his nose.
Indy chuckles.
"Alright. I've got it now. We're going with..."
Dramatic pause.
"Hal."
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"I'm sorry I can't do that Indy."
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Moon crosses her arms.
"It's one syllable, with no real personality. You should take a page from the book you used when you named Indiana. Indiana is better than Hal." She tilts her head. "Hal. Hal. Halhalhalhal. No. It's not smooth or lyrical. It's... well... it's Hal."
But there's Moon for you.
The one who named her own wolves Mons and Mare.
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"There's nothing wrong with Hal. It's a strong noble name."
It's also a common abbreviation of Henry—not that he's bringing that up.
"And you're a fine one to talk about single syllable names, Missy."
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A 'you're not helping' look.
"Depending on what country or planet I go to, my name isn't just one syllable," she feels she has to say. "Besides, it's all in how you say it. Moooo-oooon. See? Two syllables."
Now she's being silly.
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"I was talking about Mons and Mare actually."
He sighs again, and gives the pup a helpless look.
"But... I suppose Rigel could work just as well. As long as he's known as Riggs for short."
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"Wait. You want to name him one thing, but are going to call him something else? Isn't that just like...confusing for the sake of it. I mean, if you name him Rigel but then call him Riggs, isn't his name just...Riggs?"
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He gives Moon an affectionate bump with his elbow.
"Hey... hang on a minute. Since when were you the voice of reason round here, Mikey?" He frees a hand and puts a fever-testing palm against Mike's forehead. "Are you feelin' okay?"
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She gives him a return bump with her hip.
"I may take you back to Legoland and just leave you there for the savages to poke with their plastic swords."
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"Hey now! There's no reason to be insulting my reason just because you seem to have lost yours!"
He then attempts to communicate with the puppy via sign language. Either he's telling the puppy to Attack! Kill! Kill! or Fish is half price, this week only!
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"So... Riggs?" Indy proposes again. "We can rename Stampy to Murtaugh and watch as their zany crime-busting antics unfold."
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"Ex-excuse me? No no nononononono. I don't think so. You didn't just..."
He turns towards Moon.
"He didn't just suggest that we rename my daughter. Did he? Clearly he knows that I've duct-taped people to ceilings for less."
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"I think he did. Is the duct tape in that hellish junk drawer?"
Moon gives Indy one of her innocent, winning smiles.
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"Where's my congratulatory clap on the back for making a decent pop culture reference?"
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