Confronting the Past

Emily Appleton sat on the large sofa in Patrick's living room, a cup of now Luke-warm tea in her hands, said hands trembling slightly. She'd yet to explain why just two hours prior, she rushed through her home, packing everything she held important to her in suitcases and duffle bags. Her lover had asked on several occasions while they put things in his car just why she was so shaken, but she never replied. Well, not in a sensible way that was usual of Em. Her mind was racing, frazzled; she was continuously bringing up old memories of a man she'd hoped to never hear from again.

Patrick, on the other hand, was worried over his ex-wife's well-being, but knew that he had to be patient if he wanted to get answers not fueled by anger. Gently, he sat next to Emily, his hand finding her knee. The instant he made contact with her, she began to tremble more harshly; she was scared, and now she was crying. "Oh Emily," he breathed, removing the mug from her hands and pulling her into a careful embrace. Every tear that fell from her eyes fell to the base of his neck, and each tear tugged one from his own eyes. How he hated to see her like this, but he wouldn't push her to tell him what was plaguing her mind.

And plaguing her thoughts were indeed. Sobs escaped her lips, unbidden. He didn't need to see her this way. It had been over a year since she'd last done this – broken down over Johnathon Bleekly – and she knew he wasn't worthy of such strong emotions. Still, she sat cradled in her love's arms, listening to him whisper sweet words in her ear to calm her. How she loved him so.

It was minutes before she composed herself enough to explain what had happened between she and Johnathon.

It began as simple dinner. Emily had been divorced for twenty years, and it wouldn't be considered a bad thing to start looking at the other side of the table and seeing a man. John had decided to be that first man to take the "hot seat". Their conversation had been light, he paid for everything, (despite her continuous arguments otherwise), and made sure she got home safely. A gentle kiss ended the evening and, unfortunate for John, Emily wrote him a note saying their night was pleasant but not one that would be repeated. To say the least, he did not take it lightly.

Stalking was the first of many offences he was proven guilty of. Harassment of the verbal and physical kind, as well as trespassing and attempted robbery came first.

"Oh Emma," Patrick breathed. "You should have told me about this. I could have helped."

The only response Miss Appleton could elicit was a raspy laugh. "Patrick, you know as well as I do that would have only ended in an argument about toothbrushes and rugs."

Together they laughed and held one another. It was another fifteen minutes before Benjamin Franklin Gates rang the doorbell. Emily's face went white before Ben could even open his mouth.

"Mom?" he inquired, concern flashing across his face. He sat in the chair adjacent to the sofa, his hand instantly finding hers. "What's the matter?"

It took a moment for the words to come, but Emily finally said, "He called you, didn't he?"

Ben knew instantly that Mr. Johnathon Bleekly was much more deeply involved than he had originally thought. "Just got off the phone with him. Said he read the articles about the Templar Treasure and Cibola. Mom…?"

"Where is he sending you?"

"Rome. Caesar's last will and testament was discovered, promising endless riches to the people of Rome, but the country never saw a dime."

Her eyes flashed an emotion Benjamin had never before seen in his mother. "I'm coming with you."

A/N: SO! Forever and a day ago, I started this story. Now I'm updating. Reviews are ALWAYS lovely, so feel free to drop a few my way. Chapter six is in the making, so don't be alarmed if I –GASP- update within the month.

Toodles!