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Indiana Jones drifts downstairs. He seems relaxed enough as he orders some fajitas and an iced tea. He doesn't bother looking round much as he settles in at a central table, unaware of anyone who may be seeking him. Perhaps he looks a little more distant than usual, but he's just your typical quiet, mysterious adventurer eating some Mexican really.

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He points at the door to the back, in outraged silence. He doesn't want to get in trouble either, and out there is fair game.

"Alright... after you," Indy says, popping his shoulder with a grimace. The poor guy is way out of shape after six months of boozing and basically doing nothing in the bar.

He picks up his tea and follows Arithon to the door.

Once outside, Arithon spins around and makes a fist.

having set his tea down on a rock, Indy takes a breath and steels himself. True, the guy is small, but the small ones always pack a big punch.

"Ok..."

The fist arcs toward Indy, and as it does it pulls all the local shadows to surround it. By the time he connects, there is a freezing ball of blackness almost twice the size of the actual flesh to assist in causing pain. At the distinctive sound of a joint dislocating, Arithon turns around and heads back into the bar.

Indy grunts and reels under the force of the blow, trying to catch himself by stepping backwards, but falling and landing heavily in the snow.

Clutching his jaw, unable to speak from the injury, he watches the man stride off.

Faith, having seen them leave and followed to ensure it didn't get too bad, walks up to Indy and kneels next to him. "I'm not gonna ask what that was about." She reaches out, touching the injury gently. "Let me know when it hurts..."

Cue investigative jaw-probing.

"Ow... geez," Indy groans around her fingers. "Faith... you don't... have to."

"Yeah, yeah. You're a big strong man. Shut up." Faith probes a little more, then sighs. "Well, it's dislocated. I can fix it, but it's gonna hurt like a bitch."

"Well id huds like bidch now... so it can't be much word," he mumbles through the pain, hands clamped tightly around his chin.

He spits a little blood into the snow from where his teeth had sliced into his cheek.

Faith rolls her eyes slightly. "Yeah." Without any further warning, she pops the bone back into place. "It can."

A howl of anguish echoes around the lake, startling the ducks slightly. The lead duck offers a reassuring quack and they settle their heads back under their wings.

Meanwhile, Indy buries his face in the snow, gnashing his teeth and trying not to whimper.

Faith sighs. At least he didn't faint like Isabel. "There ya go, champ. Now what say we go find somebody who can really fix you up?" She grins impishly. "I can carry you if it's too painful to move..."

Indy shakes his head adamantly, clods of snow flying off his face. "No. It's... fine. I can... walk."

Grunting in pain each time he makes a word, he pushes himself off the ground and offers Faith a hand. "'preciate it... Fait."

Faith takes the hand, squeezing gently. "No problem. Just try not to piss people off in the future, OK? There's only so much fixing I'm good for."

"Just hasn' bin... a good week," he replies uncomfortably. "I deserve everythin'... I get."

He stoops and collects his tea, still holding his jaw tedenrly in the other hand. Mustn't forget the tea.

Faith has no trouble believing this. So she says so. "Yeah, I figured you probably had it coming."

"Nice of you... to have... so much... faith in me... Faith," he says with a wry grin. Or it would be a wry grin if he could move his mouth more than a twitch. Perhaps she can sense the sarcasm through the muffled growl of agony.

They re-enter the bar (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/3130026.html).

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