Intangible Treasure

After they'd placed their orders, Abigail turned to Riley, deciding it was time to take the spotlight off her fiancé. "So, how are things with Jacqui?"

"They'd be better if we were in the same state," Riley replied, his eyes lighting up in a way that reminded Abigail of when he'd found treasure. "But, still, we never seem to run out of stuff to talk about."

Ben quickly smothered a cough that sounded more like a chuckle. "Such as your book?"

"More than that, Ben." Riley shot a glare at his best friend, but it was soon gone. "She's into conspiracy theories, yes, but she's also working on a degree in history, specializing in Native American culture and languages."

Abigail exchanged an amused glance with Ben. "That sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it, Ben?"

"Just a little, Abigail," Ben agreed with a smirk. They gazed at Riley as their food was delivered, watching as he squirmed. Once the waiter was gone, Ben leaned forward and asked, "Is this just a sign that you have a crush on my mom?"

Riley stared at Ben, shocked and surprised. "NO!"

"So you think she's hideous, then?" Ben retorted calmly, cutting his steak into bite-sized pieces.

Waving his hands, Riley quickly recovered. "It's not that, either."

"Then what is it?" Ben popped a piece of steak into his mouth and chewed as he waited patiently for Riley to dig himself a deeper hole.

Abigail ruined the effect with her giggles. Riley glanced at her, frowning, and then rolled his eyes, exasperated. "You were just messing with my head, weren't you?"

"I'm sorry, Riley." Ben's stern façade cracked and he started laughing. "I couldn't resist."

Riley tried to maintain his offended dignity, but he was soon laughing with the other two. The other diners wondered what was so amusing.

* * *

After lunch, Emily insisted that they go grocery shopping, teasing him, "A look in your cupboards and one would think you were Old Mother Hubbard."

"Yes, dear." He opened the door for her and kissed her cheek as she moved past him. "I never really liked grocery shopping."

She slipped her arm through his as they walked to his car. "It's a wonder you survived thirty years without me."

"I had Ben." Patrick shrugged, opening the passenger door for Emily. "He did the shopping for both of us and I paid him back for my share. Even when we weren't talking much or he was off on the treasure hunt, Ben still made sure I had enough groceries."

She paused in the act of getting into the car. "What do you mean, you weren't talking much?"

"He didn't tell you?" Patrick looked surprised as Emily finished getting in the car. "Oh, well, it's water under the bridge now."

Emily caught the door before he could close it all the way. "Pat, what are you not telling me?"

"Let's get going and I'll tell you on the way," he suggested. When she nodded, he closed the door and climbed in behind the wheel. They were silent as he started the car and backed out of the driveway. Once they were on their way, Patrick finally spoke up, his voice quiet. "I gave up on the Templar Treasure." She blinked at stared at him. Those were words she'd never expected to hear from him. "You're well aware of what the search did to the family name."

She nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. "Yes, I am. It almost dragged me down with it."

"That's why I never blamed you for leaving. You had to think of your career." Patrick sighed, turning into a parking lot. "Anyway, my dad told Ben about the treasure and, naturally, Ben was eager to go searching for the treasure, too."

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of what happened," she interrupted impatiently, turning in her seat to face him. "What I want to know is why you two didn't talk much."

Patrick pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car, looking up to meet her gray eyes with his blue ones. "He wanted to look for the treasure and I didn't." He cleared his throat, looking out the windshield. "I couldn't cut ties with him completely, though. Ben was all I had left of you after you walked out of our lives."

"Oh, Pat." She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand, tears stinging at her eyes. "I'm sorry I left, but I couldn't take it anymore. Between all your trips and the ridicule I was beginning to face, I had to do something. I tried to warn you, but you never seemed to listen. So I left."

He covered her hand with his, kissing the palm, his eyes suspiciously moist behind his glasses. "I know, Em. I know."

They took a few moments to compose themselves, and then climbed out of the car to go in and start grocery shopping. Emily slipped her arm through Patrick's as they pushed a cart up and down the aisles, picking up the necessities and the occasional item that looked interesting. It was very domestic and very soothing. She couldn't help musing that this was all she wanted for the rest of her life.

* * *

It was almost two in the morning when the ringing of the telephone woke Abigail and Ben up. Groaning in annoyance, Abigail reached out and grabbed the phone from the bedside table. "This had better be important."

"Sorry to wake you, Dr. Chase." She blinked and sat up when she recognized the sound of Agent Peter Sadusky's distinct accent in her ear. "There's been a break-in at the National Archives."

She groaned, covering her face with her free hand. "Not again."

"I have agents interviewing the security and staff already." Sadusky sounded amused rather than annoyed. "I hadn't realized there were other ways to break into the National Archives."

Abigail shook her head, glaring half-heartedly at Ben, who was watching her with a puzzled look on his face. "If you have money enough, you can break in anywhere, apparently."

"If you say so, Dr. Chase." It sounded like Sadusky actually chuckled! "You can wait until morning to come in."

She nodded, her voice dry. "Thank you. Good night."

"Good night."

Abigail rolled over to hang up the phone, and then shifted onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Ben stretched out next to her, taking her hand in his. "Someone broke into the National Archives?"

"Yes. Sadusky said I didn't have to come in until morning." She turned her head, watching as Ben began kissing her fingers. "What are you doing?"

Between kisses that slowly moved up her fingers to her palm, Ben explained, "Distracting you. Since we're already awake, we may as well enjoy ourselves before duty calls."

"Ben, someone just broke into the National Archives. I can't lay here and--" Any further words on her part were cut off when Ben's mouth covered hers in a warm kiss.

She resisted for only a few seconds before giving into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. When he finally pulled back, both of them were more than a little dazed. "Yes, it's far from good that someone broke into the National Archives, but there's nothing you can do about it right now."

"I'm the National Archivist. I should--ooh!" She gasped when Ben nipped at her throat, tilting her head back as he moved down towards her collar bones. "Oh God, Ben."

He paused, leaning over her, and asked, "Yes, dear?"

"Come here." She tugged him up for another hungry kiss, sliding her hands up and down his back as he slipped between her thighs, stroking and caressing her breasts. Coherent speech fled as they gave in to their passion and hunger for each other, moaning and gasping each other's names when the pleasure finally overwhelmed them.

Afterwards, they lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs, Abigail resting on Ben's chest, listening to his heartbeat, sighing softly as he combed his fingers through her hair. "Try to sleep. We'll find out what happened in the morning."

"I love you, Ben," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest.

She smiled as she felt him kiss the top of her head. "I love you, too, Abigail."

* * *

Jacqueline sat her kitchen table, doing the newspaper's crossword and drinking a cup of coffee when pounding on her door startled her. Glancing at the clock, she wondered who would want to visit her so early on a Sunday morning. Then she looked through the peephole and shook her head in fond exasperation. Only her brother would disturb her this early on the weekend. Unlocking the door, she opened it as far as the security chain would allow. "Good morning, brother dear, long time, no see."

"Yeah, good morning, sister dear," Jacob Bonner retorted, glancing over his shoulder. "No see, long time. Can I come in now?"

Smiling, Jacqueline closed the door enough to undo the security chain, and then opened it further. "Would you like some coffee? I just made a pot."

"Coffee would be good, yeah." Jacob closed the door behind him and moved to peer out the window. "Do you have anything to eat?"

Amused, Jacqueline went into the kitchen to pour coffee for her twin brother and warm up some croissants. "What brings you here? I haven't heard from you in awhile."

"Oh, I got involved in a research project that looks like it's going to pay off pretty well," Jacob answered from the living room, where he'd sprawled on her couch, propping booted feet on the coffee table.

Rolling her eyes, she nudged his feet off and handed him the coffee and croissants. "What sort of research project?"

"Something that we were hoping you could help us with." Jacob sipped the coffee and nodded to the bag he'd brought in with him. "Since you're studying Native American languages, we thought you could translate something for us."

Intrigued, Jacqueline went over to the bag and carried it over to the coffee table. Jacob quickly transferred his croissants onto his lap and watched as she opened the duffle bag. Inside was some sort of oilskin wrapping. She carefully unfolded it to reveal an animal skin of some kind, with symbols inscribed on it in some sort of permanent ink. "Wow, this is amazing. Where did you get it?"

"It was found in northern California, near Mount Shasta," Jacob explained, focused on tearing the last croissant apart, bit by bit. "We think it has something to do with an Indian legend or something like that." He stuffed the last of the croissant in his mouth. "Can you translate it?"

She shook her head regretfully. "No, I don't know the written languages well enough to even tell you what this is." She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Don't you have an expert on your research team?"

"We weren't quite sure what we'd be researching, so no." He finished his coffee. "Do you know of anyone who might be able to translate that?"

Jacqueline bit her lip, thinking hard. "Well, I know of an expert in Ancient Indian cultures, but I don't know her."

"Do you know someone who would know her?" Jacob leaned forward, green eyes boring into matching green. "Please, Jacqui? It's important."

Nodding, she patted his hand. "Hang on, let me make a phone call."

"Thanks, Sis." He looked profoundly relieved.

She rolled her eyes. "Wait until I've gotten some contact information for you."

"Right." Jacob watched as Jacqueline began looking for her cordless phone so she could call the one person who might be able to help.

End