Desmond had been bored. Really, why else would he be exploring Shaun's bookshelves? Not that it was helping cure his boredom, though. Just a whole lot of encyclopedias and stuff. How did the man manage to lug all this stuff with him wherever he went?
Dull! Uninteresting! Insipid! Monotonous!
…
"Hey, What the-?" A novel falls on Desmond's head. And not just any novel! Not some in-depth analogy of life and death or one of those "coming of age" novels, oh no, not even close!
The Da Vinci Code
This was hilarious! Shaun was always going on and on and on about the "ludicrous amount of historical inaccuracies". Desmond hadn't minded when he first read it, personally. It wasn't too complex, and all of that made-up fantasy stuff had been fun, no matter how "ludicrous" it was, or whatever.
Silly, but fun.
Even the bit about Leonardo Da Vinci being a Templar. Silly!
The inside of the book was filled with scribbles and angry notes. Typical Shaun.
…
When Shaun came in and saw Desmond pouring over the book, trying to decipher the rage-filled musings of a frustrated historian, he went into a full-fledged rant about "nonsensical gibberish with enough well-placed comas to sell over a million copies to fiction mongering soccer moms", completely forgetting Desmond had been going through his things (worthy of capital punishment, in the land of Shaunnington or whatever).
Desmond was pretty sure this was on of those "shut up and kiss me moments", but if he did try and kiss Shaun, he was pretty sure he'd just keep bloody talking.