I own nothing

The smell of baking bread wafted up to his nose, making his mouth water. He walked into the kitchen and saw his friend kneading bread. He crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame. He couldn't help but smile, seeing her as she was. Her sleeves were rolled up well beyond her elbows, and even though the idea was to spread the flour on the table he was more than certain the majority of it had ended up on her apron and her forearms. A lock of chocolate brown hair had fallen into her face, a wonderful contrast to her light skin.

She suddenly picked up the glob of dough and placed it into a bowl; she then went to the oven and pulled out a fresh loaf of bread. Connor then decided that he could no longer deny his stomach, in a few strides he was across the kitchen reaching for the pan.

"Ah!" She smacked his hand.

"Ow."

"Oh please." She smiled at him, "This is for the wedding."

Connor crossed his arms and leaned on the counter, "I find it hard to believe how one event could require so much food."

She shook the bread out of the pan, "Well you only get married once Connor." She picked up some flour and spread more on the table, picked up another glob of dough and went back to kneading, "And besides, Myriam and Norris deserve the best."

He was watching her, something he found himself doing more and more lately, he watched the muscles in her arms flex as she worked the dough, the knit in her eyebrows, the curves in her plump lips… His eyes trailed down her slender neck, the curvature of her shoulders, how her corset made her brea - He mentally shook himself, he shouldn't think of his friend in such a way.

"You know, instead of just standing there you could help." She shifted her weight to one leg and looked at him expectantly.

"I, um, of course."

"Alright." She smiled, "See that bowl at the end of the table?" He nodded. "Get about a handful of dough, and then bring it here." He did as was instructed; she grabbed some flour and spread it on the table. "Chop chop Connor."

Connor Kenway, Master Assassin kneading bread, the thought amused him.

"What's so funny?" She asked.

"Nothing, it is - it is just a nice change of pace."

A few minutes had past and Connor looked out the window, and judging from the shadows the sun had cast, he decided it was around four or five o'clock. She had been baking for the majority of the day.

She stopped kneading and went to the dough she placed in the bowl earlier. She plopped it into the pan and stuck it in the oven.

When she came back to the table, Connor didn't really know what he was doing, he just acted. He reached for some flour, grabbed a palm full, and threw it at her.

Her mouth opened slightly and she slowly turned her head up to him. Her current expression made him nervous, had he done the wrong thing? When her shocked expression turned into a smile his relief came out as laughter.

"If that's how it's going to be!" She grabbed a fistful and hurled it at him, smacking him in the side of the face. With the whole side of his face covered in white, it was her turn to laugh.

Connor grabbed one of his fistfuls, which was equivalent to most of the jar, and chunked it at her, hitting her in the chest coating her whole upper half.

"Connor Kenw-!" He smirked at her. "Oh it's on."

From that point on nothing could be heard from within the manor except for shrieks and laughter, and the satisfying 'oofs' and 'pops' from the flour finding its target.

Both people, with the last handfuls of flour in hand, turned to throw it at one another, but stopped suddenly when they realized they were less than a foot apart.

She let the flour fall from her hand and she reached for his, intertwining their fingers.

Connor felt his ears heat up, and he could have sworn his heart was trying to break out of his chest.

She stood on the balls of her feet, and lightly placed her lips on his.

He stiffened, 'UnfreezeUnfreezeUnfreezeUnfreeze Unfreeze you big oaf!' was racing through his mind.

She plopped back down on her heels at his apparent rejection. "I, um…"

He unfroze.

He bent down and enveloped her lower lip, sucking on it lightly. She looped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. He cupped the side of her face, and the other hand trailed up her back.

For Connor, time slowed. He tried to memorize every detail of this moment. How she smelled of bread, how soft her lips were, the soft grit of the flour on her cheek.

Suddenly he smelt something burning.

She pulled back, "The bread!"