Hi! So…just so you know, this is my first slash-fic, my first decent National Treasure fic, and…well, a whole lot of stuff actually. I dunno. (shrugs)

Disclaimer: If the character of Riley Poole was mine, I think I might have a heart attack from excitement. And seeing as I'm still typing this, that can't be the case at all…unless I'm a ghost…but I'm not…so…um, on with the fic!

Hesitation

I can't believe it. Here I am, about to drown in an Olmec chamber, surrounded by the golden city of Cìbola, and Ben has announced his plans to die. He can't die…I'd die—maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, but definitely soon. My mouth hangs open in shock, water from my saturated hair freely flowing in. My world is crashing in around my ears and more panic has filled my chest than there is water in this room. Speechless and unwilling to move, I feel myself being dragged toward the door by someone's forceful grasp.

"No!" I suddenly sputter. "Mitch, you go. I'll hold the door open."

"Riley…" Ben mumbles, obviously confused.

"Fine then," Mitch sighs, stepping away from the pillar. "Don't blame me when you get stuck here." Our eyes met briefly and he quickly averts his.

Hands locked on the levers around the pillar, Ben and I begin to push and, to my dismay, it's way heavier than I had imagined. After every step that makes me want to give up and rest my tired limbs I have to remind myself that without this, Ben will die. Little by little, that thought, repeated over and over in my head, numbs the pain and pushes me forward; soon, the others are safely beyond the door.

"Riley, go!" Ben shouts over the roar of the water.

"No…" I release my hold on the lever and feel the reverberations of stone hitting stone. In my peripheral vision I catch a glimpse of Abigail's confused face. "You go. Leave me here."

He looks at me like I've just sprouted another head. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Ben! Think!" I shout, desperation magnifying the volume of my voice. "Your family, Abigail—they need you…way more than me. You can go find another computer dork with a sense of sarcasm anywhere…heck, you could probably find one that looks like me and has the same initials." Shaky from the cold water and my tense emotions, my voice slowly lost some of its conviction.

All Ben can do is stare; he's completely lost for words for a long while. "Don't call yourself a dork," he murmurs, probably unaware that I can hear him. "No, Riley," he continues at normal volume. "You go. Live your life. You've got so much potential…don't throw it away—"

"Ben, you don't understand!" Hot streams of frustrated tears streak across my already damp face and the always-observant Ben takes notice by how his eyes widen briefly. And it's true: he doesn't understand, because he has no way to know what my life is like when he's not around. "You…are my only good friend. If you stay…I'd probably grieve myself to death anyway. Both options here lead to the same result for me. Don't waste your life." I can no longer stand to look at him; the swirling water, now halfway up my chest, has suddenly become very interesting. It's even making odd splashing noises…

And, catching me by surprise, I sense his strong arms around me, his somber voice (that I can tell he's trying to control) speaking over my left shoulder. "How do you think I would feel leaving you here? Sure, maybe if I looked hard enough, I could find a tall, skinny, raven-haired, blue-eyed computer techie that has no problem hacking into things and risking prison and has a talent for biting yet hilarious sarcastic remarks…with initials R.P…." His hands move to my shoulders and pull me away, his face coming back into view. He's gripping so hard there's a strong possibility that there are some bruises forming. "But maybe…I have no desire to look. Maybe…I'm completely satisfied with what I've got…right…here." As his voice diminishes, he pokes one finger on my chest, right above the water level.

It's like we forgot the urgency of the situation: our eyes meet and won't turn away. And then, without warning, a sudden burst of water pushes me forward…our lips touch, and we don't break away.

Our eyes stay locked and our mouths remain unmoved even the slightest bit. I can even feel his nervous-sounding breath blowing into my half-parted mouth. Curiously enough, we both pull away at the same moment and our staring contest ends.

"Um, Riley? What just happened?" Ben idly scratches his temple.

"Not entirely sure…current's kind of strong, though." Despite the sheer awkwardness of this situation, my mind can't help but dwell on…the past minute or so.

With a sigh, Ben leans a bit closer. "I'm still not sure, though. This may call for some sort of investigation—"

Acting on impulse was something I rarely did, and yet here I am: I suddenly close the space between us and place my lips squarely on his, his face in my hands. Slowly, we begin to deepen it as his arms gradually move to my lower back to pull me closer; at this point, he begins to respond more obviously, as confusedly as it may be,

"Riley…" he breathes as our mouths part just enough to sneak some air. "What are we doing?"

"…Investigating?" I whisper back, leaning in to kiss him again…only this time, he meets me halfway there.

Immediately, our arms latch around each other, almost possessively, and each second that passes increases the depth of the kiss. Emotions I never knew I possessed are manifesting themselves…and I'm sure Ben's feeling the same way. Reality threatens to drag me down from cloud nine as the water level creeps up to my collarbone, but I brush the thought away—everything I never knew I needed is now mine.

No sooner had we paused for air did we get hit with the realization that the water had risen too high for us to be able to open the door without seriously injuring those on the other side. The levers we had used minutes earlier are completely submerged. Somehow that doesn't bother me, and Ben too apparently; he instead busies himself slowly caressing the top of head in the embrace he's got me in. It has a very calming effect.

"Ben…" I sigh (too nonchalantly for me normally). "I think we may have chosen our fate." I nestle my head into the folds of his soaked coat. "Do you think Abigail will be upset?" He doesn't respond right away; when he does, it's merely a whisper in my ear.

"Abigail who?"

fin

What a mixed-emotions ending…and here's me, the one who personally swore to never kill off Riley, posting a "Riley dies" fic. I mean, they were going to live, but after I thought about it, the water was rising too fast. At least he goes happily. (sigh)

Please review, if you've got the time or something to say.