A/N: So not much changes in the first chapter here, but Ian will be back. I usually have these mostly finished when I start posting, but I decided to go ahead with this one even though I haven't got it all written (plotted forever, but not written). Reviews are great. That's the last I'll say on the topic. Enjoy!

Kara browsed in the rows of books, keeping a closer eye on Riley's empty table than on the books. Finally a woman approached him.

"Oh wow," she heard the blonde say "Is this a book about the Templar Treasure?" No, thought Kara, that's just written in big bold letters to screw with you.

"Yes," Riley said in his best author voice. "It is about the Templar Treasure. But it's also about other things, uh, conspiracy theories, urban legends, and other myths that are true."

"So, the author's here signing copies?" Kara turned away after that and drifted deeper into the bookstore. She next heard him screaming "Wait! Wait, that's my car!"

"Where's the Ferrari?"

"Hello to you too." Kara waved at Ben, who ignored her.

"The IRS impounded it."

"The IRS?"

"Funny story. My accountant set up a 'corporation' on an island that didn't exist and assured me that that's how 'rich people' do it. Then I got audited, and slapped with a huge fine, plus interest!"

"I told you that guy reminded me of a used car salesman." Kara said, studying her nails. Riley ignored her 'I told you so' and continued talking to Ben.

"Do you know what the taxes are on five million dollars? Six million dollars" Riley sat down next to Ben. Kara remained standing. "But enough about me. What's new with you?"

"Well, my girlfriend kicked me out, I'm living with my dad, and my family killed President Lincoln."

"All right."

"I need your help."

"Okay." Ben looked at Kara evenly. Riley turned with a more plaintive expression.

"Fine. I'm leaving. But for the record, this isn't a good idea."

"How do you know?" Riley asked.

"Let's think. How could I possibly guess? The last time Ben wanted to defend his family's reputation, you got blown up, stole the Declaration of Independence, shot at, and chased all over New England by both the FBI and a murderous gang of thieves. And back then, he was just descended from kooks, not murderers."

"One alleged murderer, thank you." Ben said testily.

"Right. You're not going to get into trouble at all. Have fun."

"We will."

"Take cash." Kara started to walk away.

"What?"

"If they grant you bail, I'd rather not have to call a cab in the middle of the night to come get you. And Abby's likely to leave you in there at least twenty-four hours. Then again, you'd probably be flight risks, given Ben's history. I'll try and visit."

"Ben, we're not … going to go to jail, are we?"

"No! I mean, probably not."

"I can't believe you have to break into your own house."

"I need to get Abigail's ID badge. She has access to the Booth diary page. Why don't you just ask Abigail for her help?"

"She changed the alarm code, Riley. She's not going to talk to me."

"All right. We have 30 seconds after the alert starts to disable the alarm. Go." They opened the door and ignored the beeping that started. Now I know I'll probably regret asking this, but what happened with you and Abigail?"

"I don't know, you know. I don't know. She started using the word 'so' a lot."

"So?"

"Yeah, like 'So, I guess my opinion doesn't matter.' 'So, you seem to always know what's best.' 'So, I guess I'm invisible.' And now I've moved out, and we're dividing the furniture" Riley got the alarm.

"You did that in twenty-five seconds."

"That's why I tell people to get a dog."

"Got it, let's go."

"You know, Ben, I'm not exactly an expert in this sort of thing, but maybe 'so' isn't the worrying part of the things she was saying."

"That's not Abigail's car. She was on a date."

"Isn't that that guy? The White House guy?" Riley laughed as the shmuck started babbling about the Easter Egg hunt. "He's weird."

"Wow. You work in a museum, and you live in one."

Abigail laughed "Pretty much." but inwardly rolled her eyes. Thank god that was over! Now she could tell him that they were better off as friends and professional colleagues.

"What clever repartee. She must really like him." Riley laughed again.

"All right, let me give you a tour of the house." Abby thought it would be easier to slip the breakup in if they were discussing history. She realized that the alarm was off and tried hard to banish the mental images of Ian and a gang of men with guns. "That's actually kind of…"

"Oh. Abigail." Relief washed over her, followed closely by indignation when she saw that it was Ben.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just needed to get some things." He said casually. She knew something was up. "Connor, good to see you again."

"Gates." Connor was confused.

"How'd you get in, Ben?" indignation was becoming carefully controlled fury. "Riley! Come out here!"

"What? Oh," he laughed awkwardly. "What are you doing here? I mean, it's your house, but…. Hey! Hey, I sent you a copy of my book. Did you get a chance…?"

"No, I haven't read it yet." Abby was too upset to soften the blow with tales of how busy she had been.

"I know you." Riley was carefully cheerful. You're the White House curator. I'm Riley. We met, uh, back in…"

"Right. You're, uh, Ben's assistant."

"What?"

"Um, maybe I should go?"

"Yeah, I'm really…" this wasn't awkward at all, Abby thought.

"Dinner tomorrow night?" Connor asked.

"Oh, I … I actually already have plans for tomorrow." Maybe she could just do it this way, Abby thought. Maybe he would take the hint, and say he'd call her later, and never do it.

"Oh you do?" Ben just had to say. She shot him a glare.

"Of course you do." Connor said. He sounded so pathetic, and Ben looked so smug, that she heard herself saying,

"But I'm free on Friday." She smiled brightly at him

"Awkward." Riley said. Thanks, that helped, she thought sarcastically, then thought that perhaps she spent too much time with Riley and Kara.

"Oh, great." Connor ignored them and awkwardly kissed her on the cheek. They said goodnight, and she barely waited until he was through the door before rounding on Ben.

"I cannot believe you broke in. What did you take?"

"It's just my things." Ben lied feebly.

She took the box and extended her hand for the ID, ignoring Riley. Ben sighed and handed her the ID badge.

"I need to see the Booth diary page." He protested.

"You saw the page yourself." She fumed. "There is no treasure map on it."

"No, it's a cipher leading to a map." Ben corrected. "Did anyone spectral-image the page?"

"No need to. The ink writing on the page is clearly visible." She handed the box of Ben's to Riley.

"It could have been erased, or faded! You're the director of document conservation. You know this."

"It's not up to me. It's not my department."

"That department reports to your department! Come on, Abigail. One look under infrared." She wanted to … no, she couldn't indulge their fantasies. His that conspiracies were everywhere or hers that they could fix this between them.

"You can have the Boston Tea Tables." She stopped. She loved the Boston Tea Tables. She wasn't caving to her desire to be around him again, she was doing what she had to to get those tables. She turned. "Both of them?"