Media: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

Timeline: 1957. Twenty-two years after the events of the movie.

Genres: Adventure, Friendship

Summary: Now a man, Short Round follows his hero's footsteps and becomes an archeologist. Retracing his steps back to where it all began, Short Round restarts an old quest for the Peacock's Eye.

Notes: The letter at the end is from The Lost Journal of Indiana Jones, which inspired this one shot.

Wan Li tipped back his glass. The last bit of his drink burned the back of his throat. He set down the empty glass with a dull tap.

Last time he was in Club Obi-Wan he was an eleven-year-old street rat and pickpocket. He had only been inside for a few moments before he was kicked out. Now he's a grown man, who had been seated at his own table and served an alcoholic drink. He grinned at the irony.

He checked for poison before tasting. Twenty-two years ago, Dr. Indiana Jones was offered a glass of champagne and nearly died after one sip.

Twenty-two years ago, the famous archeologist attempted to make a trade with Chinese gangster Lao Che in this club. Twenty-two years ago, Short Round helped him do so. Twenty-two years ago, Indiana Jones changed his life forever.

The club hasn't changed much since then. The damage had obviously been repaired and business was booming as usual. Chinese dancers dazzled the stage in much too short dresses led by a Caucasian singer that reminded him of Willie Scott with less talent. The number was mostly in terribly pronounced Chinese mixed with a few English lines. However, they captured the attention of the audience, including Lao Che and his last living son Kao Kan.

Short Round avoided staring at the crime lords for too long. Although he doubted they would recognize him, he dreaded their attention regardless. To think that he, the old accomplice of the man who killed his eldest son Chen, wrecked his club, and escaped his grasp with the antidote was right under Lao's nose. Short Round almost chuckled.

  Then again, he thought darkly, frowning into his empty glass. It was all well deserved since this is where Chen killed Wu Han.

He was startled by sudden applause. He glanced up to observe that the performance had ended, so he politely added his own claps.

The dancers dispersed to the back except for one, who pulled up a chair. This sparkling eyed, makeup heavy girl was his contact. Her pearly white teeth contrasted her ruby red lips as she smiled. Her black hair was done up securely so not one strand would fall out of place during the dance. She dragged her chair a bit too close to his. She smelled powerfully of powder and orange blossom. As she sat down, Short Round realized her skirt was dangerously too short. He locked onto her brown eyes, praying his face remained neutral and his normal olive tone.

  "Ms. Huang, I presume?"

  "Li, I'm assuming?" she mimicked him good-naturedly.

  "Dr. Wan, if you please. I was told you have information concerning"–here he dropped his voice below the lull of the music–"the Peacock's Eye?"

  "I do," she replied smoothly. "The quality and quantity of the intel is up to you."

Short Round showed her a wad of Chinese currency from under the table. Ms. Huang accepted the cash, then thumbed through the bills with a pleased expression. She tucked the roll into her dress in the gap between her breasts.

  "About twenty years ago," she began in a hushed voice as she leaned closer, "my cousin was a waiter here. One night, a fight broke out. After the brawl, he was mopping up spilled melting ice when he noticed an oddly shaped piece that wasn't melting. He picked it up and realized it was a diamond before quickly dropping it in his pocket. He sold it to an American collector for a fortune, so he quit his job here. I was only a teenager at the time," she added needlessly, batting her long eyelashes.

Short Round spared a moment to admire how ageless she looked for her mid thirties.

  "Do you know where this collector is now?"

  "He mentioned to my cousin that after this purchase, he was retiring in Hawaii. I found his name and address for you." The dancer waved a piece of paper under the table, which he took and slipped into the inside pocket of his black tuxedo.

  "Thank you. This is more than I hoped for." Indeed, this was much easier than Indiana's sixteen year long search for the priceless gem. It was rather unfair.

  "Must you leave so soon?"

Alarm bells blared as Short Round felt a slim hand on his leg. Setting his jaw, the young man grabbed her wrist firmly and pushed it back. Unlike his hero, Short Round decided that, in his line of work, there was no time for love.

  "I'm afraid so," he responded with no reluctance. He glanced over at Lao Che's table. Since the dancer had sat down with him, the gangsters had been eyeing him every few minutes. The longer he stayed, the more suspicious he seemed.

He rose from his seat and quickly left Club Obi-Wan.

Once outside, Short Round turned his face to the night sky. A few drops of warm rain splashed against his skin. Pulling an flimsy object from another suit pocket, Short Round slapped the worn Yankees baseball cap onto his head. The brim shielded his face from the sprinkle.

Glancing both ways, Short Round then crossed the street to his parked car. He was tall enough to reach the pedals without boxes strapped to his feet. The Chinese archeologist grinned at the memory as he hit the gas and sped off toward the airport.

September 15, 1957

Dear Dr. Jones,

You won't believe it! I am close to finding the Peacock's Eye! You know after all this time I keep looking and I keep looking, and it is in Hawaii! It's on the island they call Niihau, where it's fallen into the hands of natives. Yeah, yeah, no time for love, right Dr. Jones?

Your friend,

Short Round

Indiana Jones chuckled to himself and placed the card on his desk.

"Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."