A.N: I know the plot is one that is hopelessly over-used, but it's so fun! There are so many ways you could do this, so I hope this one is unique enough for some reviews? You know you want to press the purple button!

Also, I do not own National Treasure. If I did, this wouldn't be on It would be on Eh? So, for the sake of common sense, This is the only time I will put this. Think, people. Okay? The only things of mine, are my character, her quotes, and the twists in the plot of the movie. Good reviews lead to sequels!

Also, Ronnie was named after ah-may-zing singer (and screamer) Ronnie Radke (a guy. Okay?). However, the character herself is inspired off of me, a girl. Got it? And yes, even the part about her being French. Adding a bit of global diversity here. Deal.

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Sunday mornings were Movie Mornings for the girl of twenty-eight, Wolverton. Yawning, she slipped out of bed and dressed, the usual "skinny jeans and black spaghetti strap" combo, before trudging downstairs. The brunette, her eye-covering bangs tipped blood-red, slumped into her couch, having put in the DVD the evening before. She lazily grabbed her remote and pressed play. Nothing happened. With a groan, she took out the DVD and walked outside toward her dad's CRV, a shiver biting her spine. It was May. Why it so cold in May? There would be this much, if any, snow in May. Out of shock, she dropped the DVD case. A pair of snowmobiles drove up, the driver's side door opening on the first. A man in a heavy coat leaned out. Smarty pants.

"Can we help you?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm just a teenage girl chilling in the Arctic in a spaghetti strap shirt. Of course you can help!" the brunette shouted, her temper-mental self returning as the shock lifted. She opened the second door to find someone sitting in the center seat. "Sorry...No pun intended," she whispered, grasping a cold metal bar and hoisting herself up, crawling in. Then she remembered; National Treasure. That was the movie she had put in. Looking beside her, the brunette realized that was Riley, and Ian and Ben were seated in front of her.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, smiling despite the cold. How cool was this? Riley didn't respond, he was too busy with his laptop. A few beeps were the brunette's response.

"We getting closer?" asked Ben.

"Assuming Ben's theory's correct and my tracking model's accurate, we should be getting very close. But don't go by me - I broke a shoelace this morning," was Riley's response, still not looking up. Ben and Ian turned around to look at the man with confusion.

"It's..it's a bad omen," explained the two from the back simultaneously. Riley had looked up to say this, and now turned to look at the brunette. "Oh. Hello. Where did you come from?" he asked. The girl laughed. Before she could reply, Ian asked a sarcastic question.

"Shall we turn around and go home?" asked the Englishman.

"Or we could pull over and just throw them out here," Ben replied with a laugh.

"OK, I feel loved..." the brunette groaned, tugging on her tipped bangs. "Can I at least get a jacket, or something? I'm in a spaghetti strap, for God's sake!" she asked, shivering. Out of the corner of her brown eyes she saw Riley look to her in curiosity, but he looked away quickly. Ian threw an orange coat to the brunette. "Thanks, I'm now a mutant citrus." The coat was around three sizes too big, but the girl didn't seem to care. It worked, and that was all she cared about, regardless of her sassy remark.

"Riley, you're not missing that little windowless cubicle we found you in?" Ben asked suddenly.

"No, no. Absolutely not."

The slightest glimmer of a smile crawled onto the tan face of the brunette, and the snowmobile came to an abrupt stop.

"Why are we stopping? I thought we were looking for a ship!" Shaw asked.

"Je ne vois pas de bateau," the girl replied softly in French, hopping into the snow. She didn't see any ship.

"She's out there." Then Ben walked off into the snow. The brunette shrugged, and heard a startled, "Woah!" and as she turned, Riley was standing up again, snow in his hair.

"Niiice..." the girl smirked, and Riley walked up beside her.

"Who do you think you are? And you know French?" he asked, seeming rather aggravated at first, but then suddenly curious. The brunette shook her head, smiling and looking out to the endless plain of white.

"I am French," she replied, and turned her gaze toward Riley. "And my name is Rondah. Ick. Just call me Ronnie, 'kay? Answer your question?" He nodded, and the girl walked off.

"Look, this is a waste of time. What would lead a ship out here?" asked Shippen, skeptically. Ronnie smiled. One of her favorite parts of the movie.

"Well, I'm no expert, but...it could be that the hydrothermal properties

of this region produce hurricane-force ice storms that cause the ocean to freeze

and then melt and then refreeze, resulting in a semisolid migrating land mass that would land a ship right around here," Riley replied, looking to Shippen and then walking off into the glistening snow.

"Ah, another science geek. No offence," Ronnie commented to Riley. He turned, and shrugged. "And modest, too. How very unique." She smiled, and whispered under her breath in French, "Monsieur Poole, vous êtes stupéfiant."

Despite her hopes, Riley had heard Ronnie's words. "I am indeed amazing. Don't you forget it. But how'd you know my last name?" The girl's cheeks flushed, and Riley walked off again, deciding to drop the topic. Then everyone froze as Ben shouted.

"I found something!"

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Ian, Ben, Shaw, Riley, and Ronnie clambered into the Charlotte's holds, icicles hanging from the ceiling and ropes like deadly stakes. Riley walked toward a hammock, pushing the top aside to find a dead body, preserved from the ice. He immediately started freaking.

"Ahh! Oh, God!" he almost screamed, stepping back and tripping. In the process, he knocked over Ronnie, making her scream suddenly.

"Quel est mauvais avec vous? Vous ne vous rendez pas compte il y a d'autres gens sur ce bateau? Vous pourriez avoir la blessure sérieuse me, ou n'importe qui d'autre, pour ce qui est de cela! Obtenir une poigne, Riley!" Ronnie exclaimed, standing up and dusting bits of snow off of her jeans. She glared at Riley, and pushed him out of the way as she followed Ben and Ian further into the ship.

"Well, you handled that well," Ben said, to both Riley and Ronnie. Ronnie rolled her eyes. Riley just ignored him. Another door lay ahead, and Ronnie turned around again, looking to Riley, biting her lip.

"Sorry..." she mouthed, flashing a small glimmer of a smile before running to catch up with the others. Ben opened up the doors, and smiled.

"This is it," he started. Ronnie cut him off.

"The cargo hold," she whispered. Crossing her arms, the girl walked in slowly, the air frigid, and the room white with ice. Barrels lined every wall. "What's in the barrels?" she asked suddenly, and Ian lifted a lid off of one.

The blonde Englishman dipped his fingers into whatever was in the barrel, and moved his fingers slowly. "Gunpowder," he replied. Ronnie held her breath, not wanting to ruin the story. Who knows what would happen if she exploited the plotline.

Ben finially noticed the skeleton of the Charlotte's captain clutching a barrel. "Why would the captain be guarding this barrel?" he whispered, and opened the barrel, gunpowder spilling across the floor. A finely decorated box slipped out with the powder. Ben smiled, and said again, "I found something!"

"What is it?" Riley asked, walking over. Ben opened the box, revealing an intricately carved ivory pipe.

"Do you guys know what this is?" Ben asked. Ronnie rolled her brown eyes.

"Is it cheese? I'm hungry," she asked, smirking. Ben turned and glared at her. "Okay, okay. It's a Miashawn pipe, another clue."

"A billion dollar pipe?" Riley asked with a smile. Ronnie put her hand to her moth, holding back a laugh.

"No, Riley. Um...I'm sorry, I never got your name," Ben replied, turning to Ronnie.

"Her name's Ronnie," Riley announced, everyone turning to him. "Ronnie deVérité," he continued.

"Well, Ronnie's right. Look at the intricacy of the scroll work on the stem..." Ben replied, tracing a bit of ivory on the pipe's stem. He twisted it off.

"Wait, no, don't break it," Riley gasped. Ronnie put her hand on his shoulder, smiling.

"It's not broken, Riley," she whispered. He nodded.

Ben reached into the pocket of his coat, removing a pocket knife. The blade exposed, her pressed it into his thumb, a small bead of blood forming. Riley cringed slightly, Ronnie closing her eyes for a moment, mouthing words to songs that flooded to her head. She was brought back to reality by someone squeezing her hand. "Um..Riley?" she whispered. He opened his eyes and looked towards the brunette. "Laisser aller. S'il vous plaît." His cheeks red, Riley reluctantly let go. Ben smeared his crimson blood over the ivory pipe stem, the rolled it onto a blank sheet of paper in a small journal.

"The legend writ,

The stain effected,

The key in Silence undetected.

55 in iron pen,

Mr. Matlack can't offend," Ben read. "The legend writ...what legend? The Templar legend, and the stain effects the legend. How? The key in Silence undetected. Wait! The legend, the key. There's something. Maps have legends, maps have keys. Undetected...it's a map. An invisible map," Ben continued, more to himself than anyone else.

Ian cut in. "Wait. What do you mean, and invisible map?"

"Um...a map that's undetectable?" Ronnie interjected, smiling. Ian shot her a glare. Shaw had remained silent.

"The stain affect could refer to a dye, or reagent used to bring out a certain certain result, combined with the key in Silence undetected. The implication is to make something undetectable, detectable." Ben replied.

"Prison," Shaw said suddenly. Ronnie leaned forward to look at the bald man, and Riley looked over, as well.

"Albuquerque. See, I can do it too. Snorkel," Riley replied, mimicking Shaw's tone. Ronnie started giggling, but bit her fingers to refrain when everyone stared at her.

"That's where the map is. Like he said, 'Fifty-five in iron pen.' 'Iron pen' is a prison." Shaw replied.

"Or it could be, since the primary writing medium of the time was iron gall ink, the 'pen' is... just a pen. But then why not say a pen? Why... why say "iron pen"?" Ben interjected. Ronnie's eyes fluttered slightly, having only woken up around two hours earlier.

"'Cause it's a prison," Shaw persisted, under his breath.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. "Will you give it up? It's the Declaration of Independence," she said, flatly. her eyes grew wide afterwards though. She wasn't supposed to know that.

"How do you figure?" Ben asked. Ronnie shrugged.

"Fifty five men signed the thing, in, like you said, iron gall ink. So the scribe, Matlack, could offend the map, it was put on the back of a document of utmost importance. The Declaration of Independence," Ronnie explained, reciting the line from memory.

"That's right," Ben said, looking rather impressed. "We'll have to find a way to examine it."

"C'mon, Ben, there's no map on the back of the Declaration!" Riley exclaimed. Ronnie gave him a look that shouted, Yeah, and there is no such thing as cake, either.

"We could...borrow it," Ian suggested. Ronnie, Riley, and Ben turned their heads to ook at him with faces reading, Are you serious?!

"Nuh-uh. We aren't stealing the Declaration of Independence, Ian!" Ronnie exclaimed, stepping forward.

"I'd do what he says," Shaw said, pulling out a gun and pointing it to Ben.

"Hey!" came the sound of Riley's voice.

"What are you going to do, shoot me, Shaw? You can't. There's more to the riddle." Ben said, sounding actually amused by the whole ordeal.

"Then you'd better start talking," Ian started. Shaw smirked and pointed the gun to Ronnie. "Or the girl dies." Riley's eyes grew wide, and Ben looked like he was having second thoughts about Ian. Ronnie swallowed softly, her muscles tightening and her breath shallow.

"Obtenir cela abat l'enfer loin de moi! Riley?! Ben?!" Ronnie tried to shout, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper.

"I'd shut up, girl," Shaw continued, the onyx gun still pointed toward the brunette. A sizzle was heard, Ben holding a lit flare.

"Look where you're standing, all that gunpowder. You shoot her, I drop this, we all go up!" he retaliated. Ian smirked, but his eyes showed a glimmer of fear.

"He's bluffing," Ian scoffed.

With a smile, Ben replied, "Ian, we play poker together. You know I can't bluff."

"Then tell me what I need to know," said the blonde man, flatly. Ben looked to Shaw, his gun still pointed at the paralyzed Ronnie. Riley looked scared for his life, and the Ben returned his gaze to Ian.

"You need to know," he started, lowering the flare slightly. "If Shaw can catch!" Then Ben threw the flare. Ronnie tried to scream, but no sound came from her mouth. And thankfully, no flames licked the walls of Charlotte's cargo hold. Ian had caught the flare, and smiled.

"Nice try, Ben. But you're going to have to do better than..." Before he could continue, Ian's sleeve caught fire. With a small scream, Ian dropped the flare, the gunpowder instantly igniting. Ian and Shaw ran for the door, While Ben retreated further into the holds, closer to where Riley and Ronnie stood.

"Riley, Ronnie, this way!" Ben shouted, opening a door in the floor of the hold. Riley started over, but Ronnie wasn't moving. She stood solemnly, watching the flames eat away the ice on the ship walls, watched the fire dance across the cargo hold. Riley grabbed her arm and ran towards the hole.

"What is this?" he shouted, the flames lighting more gunpowder, crackling loudly.

"Smuggler's hole, get in!" Ben shouted back, and Riley jumped in, pulling Ronnie along behind him. Ben crawled in after the two, closing the door over him and running down the passage. "Get down!" Ben screamed, and the next thing any of them knew, a loud 'bang' was heard, smoke, sparks, and ruin surrounding the three. Unknown to Ben, the small flames drizzling into the snow weren't the only sparks flying.

Ronnie stared up at Riley in awe, seeing only snow and wreckage around the three of them. "You saved me..." she whispered, still trying to find her voice. She saw Ben crawl out of the smuggler's hole and out into the Arctic plains. She and Riley followed, and once outside Ronnie thanked him with a tight hug.

"Um...did I miss something?" Ben asked suddenly, walking closer to the two.

"Cold. C'mere. NOW," Ronnie replied, grabbing the sleeve of Ben's coat and pulling him into the hug as a cover. "That's better," she whispered, making a mental note to take up acting. However, Ronnie's brunette head was leaned against Riley's shoulder, and he didn't seem to mind.

"Okay...I'm not one for group hugs. But, there is an Inuit village around nine miles East. Popular with push pilots," Ben said, squeezing out of Ronnie's grasp. The girl let go of Riley as well, and nodded.

"We need to get back to D.C.," she said, her voice slowly returning with the slightest squeak. "We need to stop Ian."