Before you get on to 3:

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! for the review and the adds. Obviously I'm fresh. Thank you for all the feed back and two things: yes, Daniel mainly calls Giles "Rupert" but I couldn't resist the cheep thrill of name dropping in 1 (so shame on me) and I always appreciate constructive feed back; as I noted, I'd love to have someone Beta.

I guarantee this is a complete work. I'm just doing my best to polish before I post. (And I have an inkling of a sequal - shhh…. don't frighten it away)

Hope everyone enjoys:

3.

Daniel startled as the door opened behind him. He swung around, rising up an inch, and found Rupert entering. Daniel relaxed at once, standing up from the couch, leaving papers and books open on the coffee table.

"Daniel; Sorry, I'm later than I had hoped to be" Giles greeted, shutting the door with a foot. In two steps Daniel met Rupert at the end of the couch, reaching out a hand to shake that turned into a firm hug.

"Look at you" Rupert stated, standing back, still holding Daniel's arm, "You look like you're doing well."

Daniel nodded, grinning, looking over Rupert himself. "I am."

"I was rather worried after you went public with your hypothesis about the Egyptian Pyramids. No one heard a thing from you for over a year."

Daniel shrugged his shoulders, "Yes. That did not go well" he acknowledged.

Rupert took a step, unloading his own brief case onto the table behind the couch next shrugging off the tweed jacket, "Did you expect anything less? Especially in London? Half of academia there are only Politically Correct Imperialists -even if they don't admit it to themselves."

Daniel shook his head helplessly, "Doesn't mean my hypothesis is wrong".

Rupert leaned back on his heals, sizing up his friend, grinning briefly. "So you say. -Just a tick." Rupert headed up the stairs to the loft. "I just want something more comfortable to wear. How do you feel about Mexican? It's not Indian but I've been wanting for something spicy, and Mexican is the best this town doe." he" continued talking, Daniel turning away as he realized Rupert was pulling off his sweater vest. "I suppose it's because the last time we saw each other we were both in London and London is second only to India itself for Indian cuisine-" Rupert's tone muffled as clothing passed over his head, and a moment later, Daniel heard the tap of shoes coming back down the stairs.

"Mexican sounds fine." Daniel turned, taking in Rupert in a crisp, lightly striped white shirt, and Rupert was unbuttoning the sleeves, rolling them up his fore arms, already heading for the door.

"So, what are you doing in California?" Daniel asked as he passed by Rupert holding open the door and received a disgruntled look: "I'm the librarian at the High School."

Daniel stuttered, missing the step, and was caught by a friendly, firm hand on his back, propelling him for an ancient powdered blue citroen. "How did you become the Librarian?" Daniel choked out, managing to keep his feet under him until he was standing over the junker, pressing in the button on the handle to release the passenger side door, watching Rupert walk around and pull open his own door.

Rupert gave another smile over the roof of the car, this one sympathetic to Daniel's befuddled stare, "There was a sudden opening and I was needed."

Rupert slid into the drivers side and inserted the key, the engine coughing and choking turning noisily life, and finally Daniel pulled open his door sliding into his own seat. The car gurgled and lurched forward, Rupert flipping on the lights in the against the beginning of dusk while Daniel twisted around to looked back at the street behind him, not reassured by the faint blue exhaust farting out the back of the car.

Californians must really love this old beast of a car, Daniel thought to himself, glancing to Rupert, and it occurred to him maybe Rupert had chosen the car for a particular reason… Why did a man suddenly up end a position at the British Museum for a nominal career in a small town half a world away?

"So, tell me about what you've been doing" Rupert spoke over the car.

Daniel recalled his recent years, "After I was laughed out of London I came back state side, continued my work."

Rupert nodded along, the way Daniel remembered, "And now you found some translations you want help with?" Rupert offered.

Daniel nodded, "I did."

"Are these further evidence towards your hypothesis on the pyramids?" Rupert asked amiably, but Daniel could sense an undercurrent in Rupert's tone.

"No. Actually, this is for something else."

Tension in the car Daniel had barely even noticed suddenly released and the ease Daniel felt now was enormous by comparison.

"So what are you working on?" Rupert looked across the cabin to Daniel, his countenance briefly illuminated by passing cars in the ambient street light. Daniel's friend looked animated in a way Daniel never remembered: sure he looked tired, a tired that came from infrequent sleeping, and his hair was less than a couple of years past, and he looked harder, but he looked animated, Daniel thought: engaged.

"Will you forgive me if I can't say?" Daniel asked.

A glint lit Rupert's eyes, "Did you talk yourself onto a new dig?"

Daniel shook his head, grinning himself, "Not quite. After my little talk in London, a government car pulled up and asked if it'd be interested in working as a translator. It seems, in the course of carrying out missions, troops often come upon relics, and the United States Government has an interest in understanding their worth before handing them back" Daniel rattled off the spiel he'd spun for any of his old colleagues who asked what he was about nowadays; it was an easier sell than "Deep Space Radar Telemetry".

Rupert nodded along, "P.C. Imperialists" he commiserated. "Hope the pay is brilliant."

Daniel though of his nearly untouched bank account. It was rather large; "Its good enough."

"Do American Soldiers happen upon enough to keep you interested?" Rupert asked.

Daniel only wished he might tell the actual source of the languages, wanting Rupert's input as a fellow archeologist and anthropologist, but settled for nodding, "Enough. What I've brought with me I'm having trouble placing. It looks like an ancient form of Phoenician, but I'm having problems with the context, maybe it's highly changed dialect. I hope you don't mind that I pulled out a couple of your texts - I think I've found one of Bartolomew's studies of language that may help."

Rupert nodded, "I can think of a few others that might help. I'll know more when I see it. Where did it originate?"

Daniel shook his head, "I can't tell you. Classified. All I can do is show you."

Rupert maneuvered around a corner, pulling into a lot beneath a lit, rotating sign advertising "El Jardin". The lot was more full than empty, and Daniel waited as Rupert cut the engine. His friend remained sitting, turning finally to look over Daniel, "Why do I have the feeling you haven't the authorization to be carrying around the texts that are sitting in my apartment?"

"Because I don't" Daniel confessed, smiling genuinely.

"I'm not going to be hunted by your elite government forces for this, am I?" Rupert checked, serious, surprising Daniel.

Daniel raised a brow. No one he knew would care that he had done this so long as it didn't go further than Rupert; "No. As long as you don't go public with any thing."

Rupert nodded. "I'll hold you to that."

That was easier than Daniel had hoped for - but why his friend was more concerned by the military than by the source of the texts was not what Daniel was expecting.

"Come one. They do rather excellent mahi-mahi tacos. And that isn't the culinary travesty that it sounds like it ought to be."

Daniel opened his own door, using the door frame to help himself up out of the deep seat. Both men slung shut doors, and again, Daniel noticed Rupert didn't bother asking Daniel to lock the door nor did he lock his own. Daniel supposed that the citroen made a poor car to boost, not with so many high end cars carefully spaced inside the white lines of the lot.

Daniel obligingly hurried around the car and caught up with Rupert, joining him as two young couples hurried out of the door and towards their cars. Rupert looked them over with a critical gaze, then turned to offer an easy smile, catching the door and leading the way into the restaurant, the aroma wafting out making Daniel's mouth water.

"Come on. They know me here."

Daniel nodded, realizing he was figuratively starving, and followed along after the host who did indeed know Rupert, leading the way to a corner table with a smile, and teased about some thing Daniel didn't catch as he was eyeing the table to their immediate left and wondered how rude it would be to point and order while being seated…