A/N Hello All! I'm baaaacccckkkk! LoL And not only with a new story but a new fandom, as well! :o) This is my first time writing a National Treasure fic. It won't come even close to the quality of the NT fics written by SaveChangesToNormal but she has inspired my interest in these movies, so many, many, MANY thanks to her for her unsurpassed writing talent! If you like National Treasure fics and/or MacGyver and/or SG-1, you should TOTALLY check out her fics! Seriously. Anyway, here is my contribution to this fandom. I hope it's enjoyable. I'm still trying to get the voices of the characters. I have the next chapter already mapped out so it shouldn't take too long for me to get it on here. Maybe by the weekend? ~Kelcor

A/N2 Okay, so I've used a couple clips from NT2 to help me get a handle on the voices. Next chapter will have a few, as well, but will then become a/u - about midway through that chap, I think, judging by my outline. Then I'll be on my own... so please review with any suggestions!? Thanks so much. Now, without further ado...

He paused at the top of the concrete staircase and slipped a cigarette out of the pack in his breast pocket. Pulling out his fancy Zippo lighter, unable to resist running his thumb over the intricate engraving on its front, he lit the cigarette as he glanced furtively into the darkness around him. He was clearly going for nonchalant but failed miserably, his agitation emanating off him in waves.

After peering into the shadows of the graveyard for several long moments, the man finally decided he wasn't being followed and flicked his unfinished cigarette to the ground before grinding it out with the toe of his shoe and proceeding down the stairs with a true sense of foreboding.

At the bottom of the staircase, he threw a glance over his shoulder, then began pressing various stones in the wall, the correct sequence of which known only to the most elite members of the group. After pushing the sixth and final stone, he stepped back as the hidden door revealed itself and slowly opened outward. The scraping noise echoed in the narrow staircase, eliciting a pained wince from the man as he once again glanced up into the darkness, tensing for the possibility of an attack.

When no ambush presented itself, he stepped across the threshold into the oily blackness beyond the door - which promptly closed behind him. He stood still for a moment, encroached in the seemingly unfathomable depths of the darkness surrounding him, then pulled out his lighter again and lit the torch mounted on the wall to his right. Sliding the Zippo back into his pocket, he grasped the wooden stem of the torch firmly in his hand and pulled it out of the brace holding it against the wall. The flame revealed a long hallway ahead, the proverbial 'light at the end' indeed flickering faintly in the distance.

He took a deep breath and began his trek toward the light, cringing inwardly at the irony of the situation. As the circumference of light became larger with his approach, so did the dread building in his stomach. His one free hand clenched into a fist, nails digging into his palms, as he stepped into the dimly lit room, the only illumination provided by several other torches spread out along the walls. As he stared at the disappointed and angry faces of the tribunal, he thought of the man that had pushed him into this situation and silently vowed revenge on said individual, promising to inflict pain on everyone the man held dear…

NTNTNTNTNT

Paris, France

Riley Poole couldn't help but feel a little jealous as Ben bounced his ideas off the Parisian police officers. He had always played the role of the "sounding board". It was bad enough he'd barely seen Ben in the past couple years but now he had to sit back while a complete stranger took his place in his friend's life?

"Riley, how fast can we get to Buckingham Palace?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask your new best friend?"

The look on Ben's face in that moment made Riley rethink his words. The guy actually seemed surprised by the statement. Like, how could Riley even think such a thing!? Okay, Riley had been busy those two years, as well. What with the research - which sometimes even involved little 'field trips' - and then the actual writing of his book, he hadn't really had time for socializing. He suddenly realized, with more than a twinge of guilt, that he was being petty. Like junior-high-petty. He wished he could take the words back. But, knowing that was impossible, he decided on the next best thing… he'd make it up to Ben. He wouldn't stop until they found the proof to clear the name of Ben's great-grandfather, Thomas Gates.

The Parisian officer glanced at Riley, then down at his helicopter. "Nice helicopter. Is that yours?"

NTNTNTNTNT

Washington, DC

Riley watched his best friend dig through the boxes in the back of the van with disbelief, which quickly morphed into betrayal when he saw the envelope that had his writing on the front, the envelope that held the product borne from two strenuous years of his life, the envelope that was...

"You didn't even open it?" Riley did his best to hide the pain in his voice but knew he hadn't fully succeeded. But, seriously, of all the people in his life, he'd thought at least Ben would have read his book.

Ben did his best to shrug off what he knew would be the ultimate betrayal in his young friend's eyes. "I was moving," he said, forcing a smile on his face. Truth be told, he had been devastated. Abby wasn't the first woman he had ever fallen in love with - just ask his father if you want proof of that - but she had been the only woman he had lived with. He had been sure that she was different, that she would be the one who could love him despite his eccentricities and possibly even for them. But, he'd been wrong… she had kicked him out of their house, changed the locks, recoded the alarm system, even started dating again, apparently. Who knew he would be so easy to get over? Huh. He could probably think of a few select people. Riley might even be one of them, at this point.

NTNTNTNTNT

The four had decided to make Patrick's house their home-base for the time being, spending several hours mapping out each step of their foolhardy plan. Patrick had gone to bed a couple hours ago. Abby about an hour after that. They needed to get an early start in the morning if they were going to be ready for Mount Vernon tomorrow night. Riley was sitting at one end of the sofa, laptop open and running as he went over some last minute details for the kidnapping of the President of the United States. He still couldn't believe Ben was actually going to do this. But, if anyone could pull it off, it would be Ben. Speaking of, well, thinking of Ben, Riley could feel the man's eyes on him. He glanced up and made hesitant eye contact. It had been a while since they had spent any time alone together but Riley still felt silly for being so nervous around the man.

"What?" The question was asked softly even while his eyes darted back to the computer screen as he pretended to be concentrating on that, instead of trying to figure out what to say to Ben.

"Nothing," Ben replied, voice just as soft. "I just missed this, I guess."

Riley chuckled. "Missed what, exactly? Our crazy capers?"

"No. I missed hanging out with you."

Riley's attention was wrenched away from the computer. He looked at Ben with wide eyes, trying to figure out if the older man was serious or not. Seeing that he was, Riley quickly returned his focus to the computer, hoping that the glare from the screen would hide the blush which was steadily rising on his cheeks.

"Oh," he said, throat working to swallow the lump that had taken up residence there. "Uh, yeah, me too."

Ben smiled. He could tell he had embarrassed the kid but knew the words had needed to be said. What Riley had said in Paris made Ben realize how selfish he had been during his separation from Abby. He'd made little to no effort to pull his young friend out of his self-imposed writing cocoon for even a cup of coffee. No wonder the kid was so hesitant around him these days. Oh, he was still his usual sarcastic, funny self around everyone else but Ben could see the differences that no one else could. Because he knew Riley the way no one else could.

The kid actually began squirming beneath Ben's gaze so he relented and pulled his reading glasses out of his breast pocket. Slipping them on, he reached across to the coffee table and snagged Riley's book off the top. He pretended not to notice the fact that Riley was tracking his every movement through the corner of his eye. He opened the book at page one and began reading.

"Ben?"

"Hmm?" Ben asked, eyes not leaving the book.

"You don't have to do that."

Ben finally looked up at him, saw the uncertainty in those expressive blue eyes. "Riley…"

"Seriously, I know conspiracies aren't everybody's thing. I mean, yeah, I thought they would be your thing, what with your life long search for the treasure and all, but I don't want you to read my book because you think you have to, because you feel obligated --"

"Riley!" His name was said with such a quiet forcefulness that Riley would have halted his babbling even without Ben placing his hand gently over his mouth.

Riley's eyes widened. His "Yeah?", came out jumbled but Ben was able to translate.

"Shush."

A few hours later, Ben was still reading. He'd never known what a talented writer Riley Poole truly was. This book was really… good. Even a non-conspiracy buff would enjoy it because Riley's personality was inserted onto each page, each sentence. He glanced over at Riley to tell him as much and was surprised to see the kid had nodded off to sleep, laptop still open and on his lap. A gentle smile graced Ben's lips before he returned his attention to the book in his hands.

A pained murmur brought his eyes back up to the young man beside him, however. Riley's eyes were squeezed shut, his head was tossing from side to side. He kept muttering in his sleep. Ben couldn't make out what the kid was saying and he was pretty sure he didn't want to. Setting the book face down on the arm of the couch, Ben closed the laptop and set it atop the coffee table. He then wrapped one arm around Riley's shoulders and pulled him closer until his head was resting against Ben's shoulder and chest. The kid struggled against the hold at first, still caught up in the nightmare, but Ben didn't let go. "It's okay, kiddo," he whispered into the dark hair. "I gotcha. You're safe." And, just like that, the struggling ceased and Riley settled back into a peaceful slumber. Smiling again, Ben picked up the book and, with one arm still wrapped around his friend, he continued to read Riley's own 'book of secrets'.

TBC