The Price of Talk (Indiana Jones)

[RiversD]

Sooo, some Dr Jones action got requested on the Unappreciated Fandoms thread, what, a year and a half ago? Yeesh, I suck at getting plot bunnies onto paper (well, screen, but you know what I mean). Anyway, here goes Indy.

Title: The Price of Talk
Fandom: Indiana Jones movies

Character: Indiana Jones
Disclaimer: I own nada.
Summary: Indy's after information. and his nose isn't too keen on his contact's snuff.
Authors Notes: I know the films... weren't the best... in how they depicted some races/cultures. I've tried to be better, but if I made any glaring errors, let me know.

 

The sun was trekking steadily towards noon as the American made his way through the backstreets of Bombay. He made a show of heading in no particular direction, glancing in a window here, considering the purchase of a trinket there, but no-one who knew Indiana Jones would have been fooled. Nor would they have been surprised when, at the end of his wanderings, he paused, looked both ways, and pushed aside the heavy curtain that separated Hari Mishra’s shop from the outside world. The air within was probably a little cooler than in the sun-baked street, but so stuffy that it was hard to tell. Indy hovered in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the light. After the glare of the sun on the road outside, the shop seemed shrouded in deep shadow.

As the room drifted into focus, Jones couldn’t help but smile at what he found there. Nothing had changed. The shop was a riot of colors, textures and smells, apparently selling everything from curtains to soap. It was a picture of disorder, and a deeply deceptive one. Everything had its place in Hari’s shop, and Indy knew that the man would be able to tell if he moved even a stick of incense in his absence. An ancient wicker chair sat in the center of it all, the epicenter of Hari Mishra’s empire of information. In this room, if in no other, he was undisputed king of the roost.

Even as the archaeologist considered all this, Mishra himself came shuffling in from the back room. He was getting on in years, and even more in the stomach, but Indy knew him to be as sharp as a fine razor. You had to be, in his line of work. When Mishra lost his edge, it would not go well for him. But here and now, Hari could get you the goods, whatever they might be.

Mishra nodded to him.

“The butchers are out on strike.” he commented.

“What, all of them?”

“The Muslim ones. You’ll want to stay off the main roads if you want to get anywhere today.”

“Thank you. I’ll certainly bear that in mind.”

Mishra smiled at him. “I’ll wager you’ve come to me for more advice than that, Doctor Jones.” He shuffled to his wicker throne and waved an invitation to the stool opposite. Indy took it.

“You know me too well, Hari.”

His companion shrugged, as if to say that such a thing was far from difficult. He rummaged in his pockets until he found a small snuffbox with a carved lid. He opened it to reveal the dark powder inside, and held it out to Jones.

“Won’t you join me, doctor?”

Indy wasn’t terribly fond of snuff, as things went, but he knew enough of men like Mishra to understand the value of the social ritual. He shifted to a more stable position on the stool, and reached to take a pinch of powder.

“Thanks.” He paused politely to let his host partake first. You couldn’t be too careful, even with a benign old scoundrel like Hari. Besides, the wait gave him the chance to let a portion of his pinch fall unobtrusively to the rug. The last time he’d taken what Hari would consider a full dose of snuff, his ears had buzzed for an hour.

Mishra smiled at his reticence, loaded a thumb with what Jones felt was a frankly obscene quantity of dark powder, and siphoned it into the waiting nostril with practiced skill. He gasped once, twice, and sneezed explosively into a handkerchief already marked with the results of other indulgences.

Averting his eyes, Indy brought his own pinch to his nose and drew it up with a sharp sniff.

He felt it strike high in his sinuses with a sharp peppery burn, making his ears heat up and his eyes tear against its prickle. Just as it was becoming too much to bear, he felt the welcome sensation of his body’s response to the incursion.

Clear it in one, he pleaded with himself, as the tingle rocketed up his nose. Come on. Please.

“ah’chsssh'uh! Eh- heh- ‘Chisshuh!”

Despite a momentary panic as the second sneeze tumbled through him, that seemed to be it. Could have been worse, Indy reflected muzzily. Had been, plenty of times.

“Gesundheit, doctor.”

“Mmh. And you. Are the children well?”

It was a safe question to buy time with, Indy knew. Hari had three children whom he cared to speak about, the fourth having been disowned some years ago, but he cared to speak about them a great deal. Indiana allowed the tide of business fortunes and impending grandchildren to wash gently over him as he sought to regain his own mental equilibrium.

“But what of you, Doctor Jones?” Hari concluded his litany and came back to business, leaning forward conspiratorially. “There is talk that you are in Maharashtra for more than a new suit and a tour of the monuments.”

“Well, you hear all the talk, Hari.” Indy tried to rub his nose surreptitiously. While the tang of the snuff was fading from his throat, something was lingering in his sinuses. Not quite an itch, but a niggling discomfort that was threatening to make his eyes water.

“Near enough, doctor, near enough.” Mishra shrugged noncommittally and concluded, “But if all the talk is true, you won’t find the item you seek in Bombay.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.” Jones sniffed, his nose starting to run a little. Not much, not enough to wash out that niggle, just enough to distract him with the knowledge of it.

“Ah, but you were listening yesterday. Talk changes fast, Doctor Jones.”

Indiana sighed, understanding. Dammit. He’d been close. The prickling in his nose was really starting to bother him, as well. It didn’t seem interested in turning into something he could rub away, or sneeze out, but it sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere. He tried breathing a little more deeply, hoping that the trails of dust, spice, and incense in the heavy air might help it along.

“I’d hoped not this fast. Is there any other talk I should hear?”

It was as close as Hari would allow to a direct question. If you asked him straight out for what you wanted to know, the man had a habit of clamming up out of spite. You respected his discretion, or he gave you no share of it.

Fortunately, Hari was in a generous mood today. He chewed thoughtfully at his thumbnail, staring into the dark corners of the room, then said, as though to himself;

“There was some unusual cargo traveling to Ahmadabad this morning.”

“The early train?” Indy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think. There were several stops along that line, and the train serviced them all, but still… it was a hell of a head start.

Mishra nodded slowly. “Yes. But the signals have been down this morning. If a man moved fast, he might still catch it.”

“Thanks, Hari.” Indy knew a dismissal when he heard it, and he was glad of this one. He felt as though there were ants crawling through his nose. He stood, nodded respectfully to his host, and pushed through the curtained doorway into fresher air.

The harsh light outside did what the smoky fug of Hari’s shop had not. Indy hardly had time to catch a glimpse of the street before the urge overwhelmed him, building to its climax so quickly that a single, see-sawing breath was all the warning he received.

“-chssh'uh! hah!” Indy scrabbled for his handkerchief, the crook of his arm only half-covering a second irrepressible sneeze, rushing out before he had a chance to get the cloth to his face. His twinging nose still miserably unsatisfied, he bent over the handkerchief with the emphatic force of two more.

“heh’chISHuh! eh-chuh!”

That was enough, just. Indiana flushed out the lingering tingle into his handkerchief, blinked away the tears that the fit had summoned to his eyes, and gave a careful sniff. Yes, that had done for it.

From the dusky room behind him came the voice of Mishra, low and gently amused.

“Gesundheit, doctor. Be careful on the roads.”

Edited November 11, 2017 by RiversD

[Rook]

DEAR ALL YES

[snowshie]

I didn't know I needed this until I saw it listed. ♥

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

I didn't know I needed this until I saw it listed. ♥

This.

[RiversD]

DEAR ALL YES

Enthusiasm like that's always lovely to receive. Glad you liked!

I didn't know I needed this until I saw it listed. ♥

This.

Always happy to provide new avenues of enjoyment, folks!

[SterlingSilver]

MY GOD. I HAVE BEEN WAITING YEARS FOR THIS. Rivers, you have satisfied something for me that I never thought I would have <3. Thank you for this xD

[sapphiremint]

ahh that was me that requested indy content! but anyways this is amazingg. just the idea of snuff itself and the special stuff thrown in from a young harrison ford thank you

[rodakemopetojoen]

Oh WOW that was delightful! Thanks for posting this, I searched for something like this ages ago without success (but I was too scared to post what I'd written myself based on these films :/ ) so thanks so much for sharing this with us!

[atchoum]

I don't generally enjoy sneeze fic, but this was great ! I think I'm hooked!

[Shamaël]

Thank you for pointing this out!!! I love Indiana Jones and I had read some (too short) drabbles you had written but I had completely missed this story! I prefer the last one you wrote (I do prefer colds and illnesses...) but this one is great too. If you ever wish to write ANYTHING Indy-related, do not hesitate! (Especially anything taking place in The last crusade... I'd love to write something about Indy but it won't come out...)

On 31/01/2016 at 1:20 AM, RiversD said:

Indy scrabbled for his handkerchief, the crook of his arm only half-covering a second irrepressible sneeze, rushing out before he had a chance to get the cloth to his face. His twinging nose still miserably unsatisfied, he bent over the handkerchief with the emphatic force of two more.

I have to confess that this sentence really hit me. But, well, you already know that you have the power to kill me virtually, so it doesn't surprise me...