Chapter 1; However
Shaun Hastings was a patient man. He was also a man who was intolerant of other people's stupidity. Of which, there was a great lot in his opinion. None more potent in this department than one Desmond Miles.
The first time he'd laid eyes on the young man, he'd given him the benefit of the doubt. Yes, he'd been a bit terse, but he'd been very stressed and hadn't had a good night's sleep, so who could blame him.
But then Desmond had said IT.
"What's all this stuff?"
STUFF.
STUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!
The sum of the last ten years of Shaun's life labeled 'STUFF'.
And the chance he'd given the young man to prove to him not all Americans were lazy, stupid drones, melted away like a snowflake in hell.
Desmond was an ignorant, self-centered, lazy… Adonis.
Yes… Desmond looked terrific. LOOKED… But Shaun had met too many men with pleasant exteriors who turned out to be bricks of idiocy, or insolent meatheads with more toes than brain cells.
So, he slapped a nice big red 'STUPID' tag on Desmond's forehead, and contented himself with just staring at the young man. Imagining things. Contented himself with Desmond's nonchalance and that casual immodesty almost all men share together.
He tried to ignore the scratching, the belching, the farting. The being in the shower trying to have a few moments peace when Desmond shoved the door open with a pained whine; "Shaun, man, I've gotta piss so fuckin' bad! I can't hold it any more!"
Shaun endured all of this in his usual way. Throwing jibes and witty insults hoping to disguise the want and lust his body burned with every time he was near the other young man.
Because Desmond was an idiot. Enough common sense to fill a thimble and that was about it!
God had a way of evening out these things… Good looking people were never smart, unless they were women. Their two resident females were proof of that, though Shaun didn't think Rebecca qualified as 'female' he thought perhaps 'humanoid being of unknown origin' suited her better. Men though. Shaun had yet to find a man who was both good looking, and brilliant… At least he had yet to find one who hadn't been dead for five-hundred years or more that is.
So, Shaun Hastings had resigned himself to lusting after an idiot he wouldn't lower his high standards of brains and beauty for and actually try to form a relationship with—That was until Tuesday morning.
Because everything changed on Tuesday morning.
Shaun was sitting down at the kitchen table with two rounds of toast, lightly spread with jam, and a cup of orange juice, because winter was approaching and God knew the last thing he needed was to catch a cold. So he'd been upping his vitamin C intake significantly for the past two weeks.
Rebecca was still in bed, her usual set time for reanimation not for another thirty minutes. Desmond was puttering around in the living room, watching something mindless and seizure inducingly colorful on TV while he munched noisily on a bowl of Lucky Charms.
And suddenly there was a scream.
A small scream that at first sounded like it had come from outside, but it was distinctly Lucy's voice.
Shaun's head perked up and he twisted himself around to stare backward down the hall at the bathroom.
The screaming continued for a half a breath more, and suddenly the bathroom door burst open and there was a pale streak, roughly toddler sized, rushing out, splattering water and trailing steam.
Shaun was on his feet and chasing it, eyes wide, horrified.
What in God's name was a CHILD doing in their hideout!
The child leapt, all wet thin legs, long dripping blonde hair, and too large towel, sailed through the air and landed square on Desmond's chest, tackling him backward off the couch, where he'd turned at the shrieking sound and the thud of Shaun's footsteps, and pinned him flat on his back in the floor like a bug on a windshield.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME!" The child screamed in Lucy's voice.
And then Shaun realized… It WAS Lucy.
Desmond's eyes were wide. His face terribly pale, and he had his hands up. His mouth flapped soundlessly for a few seconds and then he was spluttering out in shock; "W-w-w-what are you talking about!"
The Tiny Lucy slugged him in the mouth.
Her fist wasn't very large, roughly the size of two of Shaun's fingers curled into his palm. But the sound they made was solid enough and he smirked inwardly, because this was just outright insane, and obviously meant he was dreaming.
Rebecca stumbled into the hall carrying a rather large pistol, one eye closed, lips slack.
Frighteningly enough, she looked like she was still asleep as she slumped against the wall and aimed the gun in front of her.
Shaun made sure he wasn't standing near her.
"Your 'SQUIRT GUN'?" Lucy grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shook him.
The guilt in Desmond's eyes multiplied exponentially then, making his pupils dilate and his bloody bottom lip curl between his teeth.
"Oh… Yeah—Uh… About that." Desmond smiled sheepishly and slowly sat up when Lucy climbed off of him and stood there shivering, wrapped in a hand towel. He rubbed his neck nervously and glanced around then mumbled something under his breath.
Lucy's little face turned blood red. A rather unflattering color in Shaun's opinion. "A WHAT?"
Desmond flinched and climbed slowly to his feet, padding off past Rebecca, who had begun snoring softly where she was still standing against the wall, one eye open and flicking left and right angrily.
Shaun took a moment to ease his hand over the gun, flick on the safety, and eject the clip so she didn't end up killing one of them before she unthawed. Instinct could be a deadly thing he'd discovered.
Desmond reappeared a few seconds later carrying a yellow, black and lime green squirt gun Shaun had seen it sitting on the edge of the sink when he'd woken up that morning and gone to brush his teeth and shave.
The younger man had insisted one day, about a month before, when Lucy had been forced to allow him and Shaun to go on a shopping trip since Rebecca was sick, that he and Shaun had to stop at a Flea Market. Saying that he needed new shoes and jeans and it would be cheaper than buying them from the store.
Desmond had ended up buying a cheap telescope that was made primarily of plastic and badly aligned prisms, a laser pointer, a bag of clear glass marbles, a pack of lithium batteries, a small spool of copper wire and a squirt gun.
Shaun had berated him the entire way home, then promptly gone and told Lucy exactly what the idiot had spent his money on.
Nobody had seen the telescope, laser pointer, marbles, wire, or batteries again after they'd disappeared into the small storage closet Rebecca stored a few old/unusable Animus parts in and Desmond had claimed (like a freaking conquistador) as his bedroom.
Shaun seemed to be the only one who'd agreed with him on that particular subject, and he only did that because staying up late working and trying to ignore the fact Desmond had been feigning sleep and 'quietly' trying to enjoy his right hand not twelve feet away was near impossible.
Especially when sometimes all Shaun wanted was to BE Desmond's right hand.
"This has to be the craziest dream I've ever had…" Shaun scrubbed his face, glancing between the Tiny Lucy, Rebecca and Desmond's squirt gun. "Though usually I'd insist on at least two of you being naked and properly lubricated."
And everything stopped.
Lucy turned her little head and glared up at Shaun like a rabid kitten, all too big eyes and shiny little teeth… And then she lunged at him.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0