Walls of polished wood and floors of soft carpet welcomed Desmond's ascent up his apartment building. Well, the apartment building he and Lucy both lived in, leading up to the apartment he and Lucy both lived in. After they'd finished their work with Vidic, with the Assassins and Templars, with the Grand Temple, everything seemed to have calmed down. A million things could have gone wrong, and so few of them had. They were safe. They were alive. But still something felt missing.

He climbed the stairs. He liked to keep active, especially since nowadays there wasn't much reason to. No enemies to fight, no oppressors to evade. Desmond found it almost strange. Everyone always talked about the calm before the storm. No one ever addressed the calm after it, when all was still and quiet, and brought with it a time to reflect on the things they'd been through, how great their fortune had been. Only, they hadn't really had much time to talk about any of it.

After the people of the world had been fed revelations about Abstergo Industries, the company didn't have long to stay golden in the public's eye. Lucy had needed to find a regular job and go back to work for an extended stretch of time. Desmond had pretty much had to do the same. He'd returned to bartending, but it was a bit harder for someone of Lucy's qualifications. Still, Rebecca and Shaun had managed to find her some connections, and she was working a job that was the furthest you could get from killing people. He was glad for it, and he'd started to consider finding employment that didn't require him to work nights.

He'd only admit it to himself, and maybe Rebecca – Shaun would probably just laugh at him – but he did want to be there with Lucy at night. He wondered if she could possibly forgive him for what he'd done to her. He still didn't know if he forgave himself. Thankfully, tonight was his night off, and that meant he'd try for an answer.

He stood in front of their apartment and debated about what he was going to say to her. At first they were just happy that they were both alive and well, but this was an issue they needed to confront, and they'd stepped around it time and time again. Lucy, especially, was the kind of woman who really didn't like digging deep into – as Desmond always put it – the things that actually mattered.

There was really only one thing that made it difficult for him to approach her with them, or to bring them up himself. He never knew how she'd take it. And he never knew what felt worse; Lucy completely disregarding something that important, or Lucy accusing him of being unable to handle what she'd have to tell him. Both saddened him terribly. Both also infuriated him terribly, but the sorrow was far greater than the anger.

At first, he'd tried to open up to her, to show her she could follow his lead. But when that hadn't really seemed to work, he'd stopped trying that tactic as well. Desmond didn't feel like there was a way to get through to her, and he'd given up completely. Tonight, he had the mind to try again, one last time. It was with this in his head that he stood in front of their door, worried about whether he should put his key in the lock, or even try to talk to her at all. He'd stopped by a liquor store on the way back and gotten some whiskey and some wine, unsure of which one would be appropriate for an occasion like this. He wasn't even really sure if any of them would be. He'd be laughed at if he told anyone, because after all; he was a bartender. If he didn't have the knowledge, who would?

The former Assassin realized he was stalling and took in a deep breath, letting it go at the same time that he slotted the key into the door's lock. Just as he was about to unlock it, he heard a noise to his far right. The old metal handle of the stairwell door at the end of the hallway turned, and his head turned with it to take a look. As the door creaked, Lucy walked through it, heading straight for Desmond with a plastic bag full of stuff. Damn, she hadn't gotten home yet? That put pressure on him, and he told himself to calm down before she got close enough to him to see his nerves.

"You're home early," Lucy called from halfway down the hall, walking briskly.

"You're home late," Desmond joked, trying to will his worry down.

"Yeah, I got held up at work. Then I decided to get us both a little something to eat." The plastic bag rustled as she raised and lowered it to bring his attention to its contents. He still couldn't tell what was inside, but red Asian characters littered its front. That and, whatever it was, it smelled pretty good. Even from where he was standing.

Desmond unlocked the door and pushed it open, walking in and holding it for Lucy. She waited for him to flick the light-switch on and came in as well. Hurriedly, and with a slight smirk on his face, Desmond closed and re-locked the door behind them.

"Let me take that," he told her, gesturing to the bag.

She handed it off to him and crouched down to take off her shoes. She wasn't taking her time either. He didn't think she wasthat excited to see him, which meant that she was probably really hungry.

"Where are we eating this?" he called out to her from the kitchen.

"I want to watch a movie," Lucy called back. "It's been a while."

Desmond had just the film. He almost laughed quietly, but pressed himself into silence so that she wouldn't question what was up. He went back to the door to take off his shoes as Lucy moved into the bathroom to wash her hands, and Desmond walked back to the sink in the kitchen to wash his. After he was done, he took the little square boxes out of the plastic bag and placed them on the dark wooden table in front of their TV, along with some napkins and a fork, a spoon and a pair of chopsticks for each of them. While he did all this, he took great care not to knock over any of the three plants lined up on the table – especially the orchid in the middle. He chuckled to himself, remembering he'd gotten that one for her last birthday. He took a paper towel from the kitchen and peeked into their bedroom, where she was shedding her jeans and shirt and getting into more comfortable clothing.

"Be with you in a bit, Desmond."

He nodded at her and moved onto trying to wipe away some of the coffee rings that had been left on the table that morning.

Lucy had also insisted on getting a next-gen gaming console, wanting to see how her work on the Animus had undoubtedly influenced controllers and UI systems in recent times. Desmond had caved, since playing with her was going to be just another way they could spend time together and maybe re-ignite some of the crazy excitement they'd been through in the months before. Money didn't matter much to him these days, all he wanted to do was take a break from all the running, killing, and hiding and spend time with her.

They weren't the poorest people in the world, all things considered – so they'd managed to afford themselves a few nice things, their table, TV and pretty much everything in their living room was divided fairly evenly in terms of opinion and choice.

Noticing three books piled onto each other at the edge of the table, Desmond cleared them away and placed them on a bean-bag chair to the right of the couch. Lucy walked into the room in a sweater and track pants. Much more comfortable attire than her work clothes.

"Let's eat, Des. Pick a movie, set it all up," she sank into the couch and stretched, yawning gleefully before she let herself open up one of the boxes of noodles and begin eating.

Desmond walked around, looking for the remote and their PS4 controller. He turned on the TV, clicked over to Netflix and selected a movie that Lucy didn't notice.

She was too busy looking into her box of noodles.

"Alright, get over here, we're good," Lucy requested, but Desmond shook his finger, moved into the kitchen and brought over two wine glasses. Her face took on a look of curiosity as she also noticed the bottles nearby. Finally, Desmond vanished into their bedroom and emerged carrying a fluffy blanket.

He looked at Lucy's face the entire time he walked toward her. Tripping a little on the blanket, he didn't quite manage to fall and mess himself up on the table. He did elicit a snort from Lucy, however, with noodles still in her mouth. She smiled, raised her arms, careful not to drop the noodles and fork in her hands, while Desmond put the blanket over her.

"Okay Romeo. Sit down already."

Desmond shook his head yet again and Lucy raised an eyebrow. He waited until he was sure she'd gotten good and curious, then padded over to the light-switch and slid it down to a level of mood lighting that can only be described as cozy. She actually giggled at it all. Desmond hadn't done anything like this in a long while. He hadn't been there to.

Finally, the former Assassin seated himself beside the blonde, and she tossed the other half of the blanket over his legs while he reached for the remote. He paused.

"What's the hold-up Des?"

"Sorry Luce," he said bashfully, "Just feeling a little self-conscious about my choice of movie."

She smiled sweetly at him, gave him an "oh shut up" and picked up the controller, hitting Play and going right back to her noodles. It only took her three seconds, and Desmond had no choice but to let it happen. Lucy recognized the movie as soon as the opening scene played out.

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Really? This is what we're doing?" she asked with a poke and some cheek in her voice.

"Yup," Desmond responded and ate some more noodles.

For the opening ten minutes, they both focused on depleting their share of food, wanting to fend off their hunger before the actual movie got properly underway. Soon, their target had been reached. Lucy let out one tiny burp, then one louder one.

"You were hungry," Desmond prodded. She shoved his shoulder with three fingertips and he put his arm around her, wrapping both of them in the blanket while, hidden underneath it, Lucy scooted closer. The end goal was Lucy putting her legs over Desmond's so they were as close as they could be, and in optimal cuddling position.

In the middle of the movie, Lucy had to go to the washroom, and Desmond paused the film. While waiting for her to get back in the dim and quiet room, he sighed and pawed at the back of his hair, moving his knee up and down repeatedly. He breathed out again and peeked toward the blade of light he saw emanating from the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door.

Deciding to busy himself, he opened the bottle of champagne and poured an equal amount into both of their glasses. Lucy still wasn't on her way back. Finally, he got out his cellphone and texted Rebecca, telling her the movie he'd chosen. She sent him a facepalm emote, but told him that his morbidly fitting choice of film didn't absolve him of the need to confront Lucy about what they'd discussed. She sent him a few dollar signs and he texted back with the same number of question marks.

Lucy turned on the sink in the bathroom and Desmond peeked over again to make sure she was still inside. When he looked down at Rebecca's message again, she was telling him the dollar signs were for good luck. He sent her a confused face just as the blonde came walking briskly back into the room.

"Who you texting?" she sing-songed while noticing the glasses and lifting one to her mouth. She took several large swallows and put it back down when it was very close to empty.

"Just Rebecca," Desmond replied, watching Lucy drink. "She's wondering if she should take a break from work and drag Shaun with her." He went to his glass and, following Lucy's example, had most of it as well.

"She totally should. Being an indie game dev can get pretty still-aired. That's what I've heard, anyway."

He set the phone to Silent, locked it and put on the table. Lucy checked hers quickly as well, and did the same before sighing comfortably and kissing Desmond with her arms around his neck. They both missed this. They adjusted the blanket and resumed the movie, with Lucy resting her head on Desmond's shoulder and his arm going around her again.

At one point, Lucy told Desmond, "You weren't as badass as that in the beginning, and look at you now."

"Well, no one's that awesome when they first start out."

"Nah, I was always awesome," Lucy shot with a quick smirk. "That's why your dad sometimes trained me one day more than he trained you. He used to tell me stories about you trying to sneak up on him and all that stuff."

"No way." Desmond was floored.

"Mhm. It was pretty cute. Tiny Desmond."

"Aw, that's just-!"

"Shhh, watch the movie," she shushed and put a playful hand over his mouth. He suddenly licked her hand in defiance and she giggled again. Desmond also followed this with a light tap to her shoulder and kissed her as payback, both for what she'd just done, and for the previous time.

They stayed like that in each other's arms for a long while. When the finale of the movie played out and the credits rolled, Desmond reduced the TV's volume and turned to look at Lucy's eyes. How he'd missed those eyes… How he'd missed her. He'd missed her and it had been a while since they'd spent time together at all, let alone like this.

He put his hands on both sides of her face and began to kiss her gently at first, with quick pecks, progressing into slower ones, then into fuller kisses. She turned to face him squarely and he mirrored her movements so he could lie back while pulling her on top of him. She pressed her body against his, more firmly, and he answered her silent rhetoric by putting his tongue in her mouth.

As he hiked her sweater up and moved his hand as slowly as he could make himself, he felt her shiver and shake. He stared into her eyes, feeling a moment of connection neither of them had gotten for a long time, from anyone. His fingertips touched scar tissue and the spark in Desmond's eyes dimmed.

"Desmond?" Lucy asked. She'd noticed, of course. She noticed everything.

"Lucy…" he answered quietly, blinking. "I have to ask you something. We should talk, about something. And we're going to." His tone was caring, loving, but also frightened her. Lucy wasn't one to talk about what was inside her, her feelings and emotions, her past – but here Desmond was telling her that he wasn't going to let her run away from this. He wasn't going to ease her into it, and he wasn't backing down. It had to happen. Now. "Even Rebecca's been bugging me about it, you know."

"Okay, Desmond," Lucy swallowed, speaking slowly. Her heart was racing not from closeness but from worry. "If this is something you need, let's go ahead."

"It's something we need," he corrected her, "Both of us. Even now, Luce, you're…. You're afraid of it, see? You don't want to go anywhere near it. And you already know what it is. Don't you? I know you do. You know you do."

She took a breath, let go of it through her nose and licked her lip. Then she bit her lip. Finally, she looked at him again and nodded.

"Back in Rome," he started, looking at her face the whole time. He needed to see her reactions, he couldn't just speak blindly. She was still, unmoving, barely daring to breathe and with her full attention on him. She was scared, too. Lucy, who always had some playful retort, tease or comeback, was completely silent. She was vulnerable, and had taken the second step to Desmond's first. She didn't have to hear him out, and could have gone running away like most times before. She could have deflected his approach with a dry joke or a change of subject, like any time someone really asked her anything about herself.

"I stabbed you, Lucy." He pronounced every word. "But it wasn't me. I wasn't myself, I had no control. I tried to fight it, and I did, for as long as I could."

"I know," she said, her voice so small.

Desmond sat up and helped her do the same, pulling her into himself. Her arms went around his back and her head rested against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Desmond told Lucy.

She knew, of course. But he needed to say it anyway.

"I forgive you," she whispered, before he asked her if she did, and held him just that much tighter. Those three words set both of them free.

He knew she'd hold no grudges, he always had known. But she had to say it out loud. She'd held that need just as much as he'd held the need to apologize, it didn't matter if it was necessary or not. They both had to say what they felt. They both had to know the other had heard it. That was all. It wasn't about the words. It was just a strange thing about being human, and about being close to someone you loved.

"We're going to be okay," he told her and kissed her head.

"Mhm."

"Thanks for dinner, Luce."

"You're welcome, Des."

"You're off tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Mhm."

"Bar doesn't need me until the evening. We'll have a day free."

Lucy smiled, invisible to him.

Desmond turned off the TV, wrapped the blanket around both of them again and lied down on the soft couch. Lucy adjusted her arms and hands accordingly. It couldn't be all that comfortable to sleep on all night, but neither of them wanted to separate for the moments it would take to cross to their bed. Not right now, at least. If they woke up during the night, they'd move to their proper bed.

"Good night Lucy."

"Good night Desmond."

For now, the silence, the warmth and the understanding were too valuable, too fragile to be disturbed.