A/n - My, it's been a while since I wrote a giant pre-story Author's Note! Heck, it's been a while since I posted anything of length. Believe me, this story is going to be of length -- or at least I hope it does. I'm making a game attempt at breaking 20 chapters, which I've never done. So I hope you all in for the long haul, especially because my updating schedule will be erratic, what with college and Script Frenzy and attempting to write a decent end to my novel. But I do hope you stick around!

Also, I'll do my best to answer reviews. I'm not making any promises with regards to that, since I always seem to break it. If I drop off from answering reviews, don't think I don't appreciate it!

Disclaimer - Anything recognizable doesn't belong to me. Unless, of course, you're familiar with some of my earlier stories and notice the tiny references I make. Those references do, in fact belong to me. Regardless of those references, this story is NOT related to anything I've written before.

Oh, and this story takes place between NT1 and NT2 and is prior to Ben and Abigail breaking up.

Acknowledgments go to my beta, my Script Frenzy partner-in-crime, and one of my best friends, Rhiannon Aurorafai. Any and all remaining mistakes belong to me.

Unheralded
[uhn-her-uhl-did]
–adjective
1. appearing without fanfare, publicity, or advance acclaim
2. appearing without warning or prior announcement; unexpected

"This'll only take a minute," Riley said as he headed into the living room of his small apartment. I followed, rolling my eyes. Of course Riley would forget his ticket. I had only reminded him twenty times to make sure he had his ticket before he left his apartment. Now we were here searching for the errant piece of paper, and I was sure we'd miss the start of the game. Granted, I'm not a big baseball fan, but at least I make an effort to be on time wherever I go, baseball game or no. Riley, on the other hand, was chronically late for everything. It was the bane of every museum curator, talk show host, and magazine photographer we'd met since we found the Templar treasure.

"I somehow don't think your concept of 'a minute' and mine match up exactly," I noted, more to myself than my friend. He wasn't listening anyway; he was more concerned with digging through the piles of random stuff littering the apartment. Riley's abode was not exactly the neatest place I had ever been. There were piles of papers, books, DVDs, video games, remotes, and various other electronics covering every flat (and not-so-flat) surface in the room. I could only guess that the other rooms in the house were just as cluttered. In fact, the only clean thing in the room was the fish tank, which contained an eccentric collection of brightly colored fish. I watched them for a moment, waiting for Riley's reply. I didn't dare try to find somewhere to sit. Last time I moved something in Riley's apartment, Riley had basically gone ballistic. Who would've thought that a simple stack of Popular Mechanics would have been so imperative to the feng shui of the room?

"Fine, this'll only take five minutes!" Riley retorted, having moved from the living room into the bedroom. "Whoa!" Riley's cry was accompanied by a few thumps. I was briefly amused by the idea of Riley being buried in DVDs and magazines, but if something heavy had fallen on him, he could really be hurt. I cast a worried glance in the direction of the bedroom.

"Are you alright?" I asked concernedly.

"Um, yeah. I'm fine. I just remembered that I should never open this closet. Ever," Riley sounded no worse for the wear, and I sighed. "Now I have to clean this mess up too…" he trailed off. I smiled and shook my head ruefully. There wasn't much of a chance that Riley was going to do any cleaning in the near future. I never understood how Riley kept his computer files so neat and organized while his apartment looked like the aftermath of a tornado.

"Maybe you put it up on your 'fridge," I suggested, heading for small kitchen. To my amusement, the kitchen was just as cluttered as the living room. All the counter space was taken up by piles of papers, except for one small area that I presumed Riley used for cooking – or pouring a bowl of cereal, which was more likely. Riley wasn't much for the culinary arts, though to be honest, I wasn't either.

The refrigerator itself was barely visible underneath all of the flyers, telephone numbers, take-out menus, photos, reminders, IOUs, addresses, and drawings. I pondered the drawings for a moment, wondering how Riley had managed to accrue a decent collection of children's doodles. As far as I knew, Riley didn't have any young relatives. Perhaps he had been given them by children living in the same apartment complex. At any rate, there were no tickets on the refrigerator.

"Doubtful," Riley replied, poking his head into the kitchen. "I have no idea where it got to! I had it yesterday when you reminded me forty times to make sure I didn't forget it…" He trailed off, thinking hard.

"What did you do yesterday?" I inquired. I flipped through one of the books on the counter idly. I'd never really pegged Riley as a bibliophile, but his apartment seemed to have an inordinate amount of books in it. Most of them were well-worn too, indicating that they'd been read several times. Some of the titles were a little surprising as well, ranging from classics such as Dracula to popular fiction like Harry Potter. Though, of course, there was the standard computer-geek fare of Lord of the Rings, one of which had been lying open on his coffee table atop the rest of the mess.

"I was fixing my neighbor's computer, so I was inside all day. And I fed the fish… you don't think I dropped it in the fish tank, do you?" horror registered on Riley's face. I gave him a skeptical look.

"I think you would've noticed if you'd dropped a ticket in the fish tank," I replied. "I honestly have no idea how you keep track of anything in this mess." I idly shuffled through one of the piles on the counter and uncovered a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. I was hardly surprised. It certainly wasn't the first Alexandre Dumas book I'd found in Riley's possession.

"Hey, I was looking for that!" Riley exclaimed, practically leaping forward and snatching the book from my hands. He extracted the bookmark and grinned, though he did take the time to find another random piece of paper to mark his page.

"Is that the ticket?" I asked, leaning forward expectantly. I was eager to get going. If we left now, we would probably still catch the first pitch. Riley gave me a sheepish grin and pocketed the piece of paper.

"Nah, just the number of a cute girl I met once at Starbuck's. She was happy to see someone else had an appreciation for Alexandre Dumas and we ended up sitting there for nearly an hour talking," Riley was blushing now, and I was grinning at his discomfort. I'd known Riley for quite some time and I'd been witness to his incredible shyness and apparent inability to interact with women he found attractive. He'd received endless ribbing about it by the other men in our original treasure-hunting group.

"Alright, Romeo, we have a baseball game we're supposed to be getting to. What else did you do yesterday?" I leaned back against the counter nonchalantly. This whole 'missing object' scenario was not a terribly rare one for Riley. He called me at least once a week asking if I'd seen something that he'd misplaced.

"I don't know. I was home all day! I had it when you called; I specifically remember taking it out of my wallet. I just don't remember where I put it," Riley sighed. "We're probably going to be here a while – I'm going to grab a snack or something. You want anything?"

"I'm good," I replied. In all honesty, I wasn't too disappointed in missing part of the baseball game. I wasn't particularly one for sports, but one of Abigail's friends was a huge baseball fan. Abigail's friend had the tickets, but she had been unable to attend the game and had bequeathed the tickets to Abigail and I. Abigail had back-to-back meetings all day, but had suggested that I bring Riley along for a 'guy's day out'. Riley had been less than enthusiastic – he wasn't much of a sports fan either – but Abigail had insisted we go. I wasn't one to argue with Abigail. She got her way more often than not. So here we were, searching Riley's apartment for his ticket. I realized that I probably shouldn't have allowed him to keep track of his own ticket in the first place. If I hadn't, we would've been at the baseball stadium half an hour ago.

Riley opened his mouth to retort as he began to rifle through his cabinets, which had even more auxiliary clutter, but he was interrupted by someone knocking on the front door. He sighed heavily.

"You mind answering that, Ben? If it's Natalie, tell her I can't babysit her twin terrors today, as much as I'd love to. I have other plans. And tell her that I'm going to a baseball game with a friend, not a date with a girl. Explain that to her very clearly and make sure she gets the point," Riley instructed, opening another cabinet and neatly dodging two DVDs and a bag of cookie cutters. I stared at the cookie cutters bemusedly and wondered where on Earth he'd gotten them.

I didn't even bother informing Riley that I had no idea who Natalie was. I figured that if the person at the door inquired about babysitting, I'd have my answer. Besides, the babysitting thing satisfied my curiosity as to the origin of the doodles on Riley's refrigerator.

"Oh, and if it's the Newspaper Thief surrendering himself, let me know!" Riley called from the kitchen. I didn't even want to know what Riley meant by that.

I answered the door to a man I'd never seen before. He was only a bit shorter than I was, and he was well-dressed. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and it was slicked back neatly. He looked vaguely familiar, I realized, but I couldn't pinpoint why.

"Oh!" the man said, seeing me. "I was under the impression that a Riley Poole lived here?" He was obviously perplexed by my presence in the doorway. His eyes were a cold greenish-blue color, though the hardness was belied by surprise.

"He does, I'm just a friend. You wouldn't happen to be the Newspaper Thief, would you?" I asked. The visitor looked incredibly surprised and confused. I mentally shook my head at the foolish second sentence. It was something Riley would say, and I was beginning to wonder if he was actually rubbing off on me.

"I… um, no?" the man asked, scowling a bit. I offered a small, rueful smile. I almost felt sorry for the visitor. If he was put off by one of my random comments, he wouldn't be able to handle Riley very well.

"Riley! Someone's at the door for you!" I called towards the kitchen.

"No, really? I thought they'd be looking for you!" Riley retorted sarcastically. He entered the living room, grinning widely. "You know, you were right about the refrigerator – I found the ticket in there! Though I can't for the life of me figure out how it got…" Riley froze when he caught sight of the visitor. He opened his mouth once or twice, but no sound came out. I looked from one man to the other, trying to figure out what would garner such a reaction.

"Hello, Riley," the man said, offering a small smile. "Long time, no see." I was perplexed by this entire exchange. Obviously Riley and the visitor knew each other, but I still couldn't figure out Riley's odd reaction. He looked happy and nervous, with a slight hint of fear. I had certainly seen Riley afraid before, what with our adventures hunting for the Templar treasure, but Riley had never been both scared and happy. It almost seemed like an oxymoron.

"Alan?" Riley asked. There was a strange choked quality to his voice, and I wondered if Riley was on the verge of tears. I desperately wanted to know who the visitor was and why he evoked such a reaction in the younger man. Though knowing Riley and his penchant for saying everything that came to mind, I would find out sooner or later.

"In the flesh, kiddo," the visitor, Alan, smiled. There was a strange quality to the expression that set me on edge, but I couldn't figure out why. After all, I didn't even know this man; I could hardly judge his character based on a first impression. After all, the entire historical community had considered me to be a raving lunatic when they first encountered me. They had to have been kicking themselves when they realized that I had been right all along about the treasure.

A moment of absolute silence passed between the three of us. Suddenly, Alan stepped forward into the apartment and enveloped Riley in a fierce embrace. I was stunned into inaction, and Riley seemed just as surprised. Another moment passed before Riley hesitantly returned the hug.

"God, kid, it's been too long," Alan said quietly, releasing Riley and holding him out at arm's length. "You grew up well." Riley, obviously uncomfortable with the situation, directed his attention towards me. Being very confused with the entire scenario, I just stared back at him. I also couldn't prevent a strange protective instinct from flaring up. Riley wasn't the most tactile of people, preferring to initiate contact rather than having it thrust upon him. I couldn't count the number of times a friendly hand on the shoulder had been quickly shrugged off, especially during our first months of working together. Nowadays Riley didn't mind so much, but he still obviously preferred to make the first move.

"Ben," Riley said, redirecting the attention of everyone in the room. Alan finally seemed to recall my presence in the room, and he released Riley to turn towards me. "Ben, this is my older brother Alan."

So, how would you feel about clicking the pretty green review button? Pretty please?
Hopefully the next chapter won't take too long to post. It all depends on how real life treats me and how the script comes along.
Until next time!

~Craic