*I apologize in advance for any lingual errors, I only speak fluent english and Google Translate. Also, this is more of a snowy dinner story rather than a Christmas story, as I realize not all characters may celebrate Christmas.*

I

I braced myself for the chaos that was soon to come. Not all of history, from the conquering of the Crusades to the rise of the Roman empire; from the Spanish revolution to the Civil War of 1776 could compare to what would surely ensue within the coming hours.

My relatives were coming to my place for Christmas dinner.

Myself and my foster brother, Clay Kaczmarek, was usually my limit. Our tiny little three bedroom bungalow was hardly space for a family of two, let alone a family of thirteen more. And thinking of how messy it could get, I specifically said and enforced the 'NO PRESENTS' rule. I had no idea how in the hell we were going to accommodate my entire family. I had asked Clay how we would do it, and how ridiculous it was going to be to organize and who we should just cancel the whole thing, but all I had gotten in response was, "God, Desmond, do you really hate your family that much? How bad can they really be?"

I knew the answer to that. They could get really bad.

My eldest uncle, Altaïr, his wife, Maria, and their two sons, Darim and Sef were nice enough to have over for the occasional barbecue. Maria, coincidentally, owned the bar I currently worked in and so I knew her well. I also knew her sons pretty well, and though they were several years younger than I, I still had to watch Darim and Sef rocket past me in the educational hierarchy. Sef was probably in his first or second year of his doctorate, and Darim was probably already a doctor of some kind, anyway. With such strict and loving parents, there was no way those two would ever be un-employed. I hadn't seen their father in a long time. My eldest uncle had a habit of disappearing for days on end to who knows where. Thank god he was self-employed, otherwise Maria would have his balls for missing work. I laughed to myself at how delightfully plain they seemed in comparison to my other uncles.

I thought of Uncle Ezio, my closest related actual uncle on my father's side, and of all the misadventures he never ceased to tell me about. By far, I found him the most interesting of my more acquainted uncles and preferred him to the others, regardless of his womanizing ways. Although, I had heard that he had settled down since the last time I had seen him - four years ago - with a here-tell beautiful woman named Sofia. I had heard from Altaïr that Ezio and Sofia had already had two children together. I found myself excited to actually meet them. How a librarian and a tailor met, I'll never know. They seemed to have good chemistry, and that was all that mattered. That came from my father's side.

The English and American side of my family, the side of my mother's, were a lot less in the Miles' family loop. I didn't know much about my Uncle Edward - whom I had met once when I was very young - or his wife Tessa. I knew from my mother that Edward had been in a war or two, though he had never said which ones, and thus, I didn't believe it. He was a hot-blooded Welshman with a sweet tooth and blue streak whilst Tessa was a mild-mannered English bureaucrat. Such a vibrant mixture of personalities was only seen in movie scripts and comic books. Garage-shop owner meets politician. What a brilliant mess. I could only imagine what their kids were like… Wait. I could.

I had only met Jenny, Edward's daughter from another marriage, once, but I knew she was the kind of person who probably wouldn't turn up at a party unless she was dragged there. In the back of my mind, I set a chair aside in case she did come. Haytham, on the other hand, was by far the most social Kenway. He never made much personal contact with anyone, but there was always a pleasant automated voice message from the high offices of Wall Street wishing the Miles family happy holidays. I thought about it, but I had never actually met Haytham face to face. I had Skyped with him once, and so I knew he was relatively close in age to me, him being thirty-nine years old, and me being thirty-two. I knew he had dark hair like his mother and cold-but-amiable eyes like his father. Cold but amiable. That was a good way to describe the Kenway branch of my family tree. Especially when talking about Haytham's young-had son, Connor. I didn't know much about the barely-twenty-year-old half-native boy, just that he was a stingy nineteen years younger than his father. Apparently, he would be bringing his girlfriend of four years to dinner, not that I had intended to give seats to plus ones, but maybe she could make the looming Pollockian Christmas mess just a little more bearable.

Truth be told, I was nervous around the Kenways. They just seemed so… Distant. I knew that wasn't the case though, considering they all lived in the closest proximity to me. If they were the first to arrive for dinner, I knew I would have a lot of awkward stalling time before Ezio and Altaïr got their clans here.

It wasn't as if I didn't love them all. Of course I did. It's just that I didn't know them very well.

Who else is coming? I couldn't think right now, I was stressing out so much. Why had it been my responsibility to host the family dinner this year? It was because my parents had flown across the Atlantic to bump hips with the french and do God only knows what.

I knew that tonight would be chaos. And I could only hope a bartender, college fuck-up like me could handle it.

Clay was relaxed as hell, reclined on the brown tweed couch between the dining room and living room. I was bust flitting around cleaning and neatening, worrying about everything my mother had told me about her family and all the things my father had warned me about his.

Ezio hated apples, including apple pie.

Haytham hated clutter and refused to go anywhere that wasn't organized.

Edward would find the liquor cabinet, no matter how well you locked it.

I hoped that the women at the table would keep their men in line. I know I certainly couldn't if I tried. Maria would keep her boys in line, and I'm sure Sofia would keep Ezio and her children at an acceptable level of humility. Anyone who could tame Ezio's fire was certainly number one in my books. Likewise with Tessa and Edward. Tessa had always been the one to call personally, unlike Haytham, at the holidays, and unlike Haytham, spoke with me on every calendar holiday. I hadn't met her, though, like Haytham, but I knew she was good friends with my mother. She had talked to me and told me that as long as her family behaved themselves, she was the sweetest thing anyone could ever know. That made me worry about the rumoured friction between Haytham and Connor. I wondered if grandma Kenway would be able to keep the peace between her son and grandson. Thinking of Connor made me think of Aveline. I hoped she would just be blissfully ordinary.

The stress must've been glaring through, for Clay shielded his eyes dramatically and said, "Desmond! You're burning hotter than the sun! You have got to calm down!"

"Clay, I can't, alright? I need to get everything straightened out, cooked, checked, cleaned, locked, and checked again before my family gets here. I'm guessing that Haytham will be here first because he's closest so…"

"How is Wall Street closest?" Clay laughed.

"It is compared to the others," I sighed, brushing him off. "I have no idea who's going to get here first. I asked everyone to call me when they were leaving."

"Just so you could psych yourself up?"

"Exactly."

Clay sighed. "Well, I hope they just keep it reigned in. From what I've heard from you, they seem like hellspawn."

I took a moment to reflect. "Aw, I guess they're not all that bad. I mean, I'll be meeting my mom's side pretty much for the first time. I've met my dad's side, at least, and they're pretty good." I plunked myself down next to Clay after arranging the coasters just so. "Are you sure you don't want to bail now? I won't stop you. You have three seconds to decide."

"Desmond," my foster brother scolded, "I know you want me to be here, so I'll be here. It's not like I have anywhere else to go. Besides, it'll be fun to meet some new people. Might help take my mind for things…"

My brother the shut-in. He hadn't left his house since his biological parents had died in a car crash four weeks ago. Having only met them just two years prior, he hadn't known them long enough to make a connection. Although, the trauma of identifying their bodies as his parents was crippling to him. Since then, he had been living with me. I didn't mind. It gave me a chance to get to know him better. I knew that he was capable of getting through this. He definitely needed a new situation to take his mind off things.

My family reunion was definitely a new situation.

"You'll have a great time, Clay," I reassured him. "You won't have time to think about anything else."

Clay shot me a confused look, and I just smiled and went off to the kitchen to check the thirty-one pound turkey once again.

It took about two hours for the turkey to turn gold, just like my mom had said. I re-read the directions for stuffing and began my chores. I hadn't ever really prepared dinner before, but luckily, Clay was a master in the kitchen. He ended up doing most of the cooking, preparing and baking anyways. I was the heavy lifter and bar-keep, obviously. The massive part-dinosaur bird was not going to come without a fight. It had taken three of us to get it in from the car and four to get it into the oven. I suggested we just slice it up and barbecue it, but Clay vied for traditional. So traditional we went, and made all the accoutrements to go with it. And I had to admit, I was damned proud of myself so far. I only hoped the rest of the night would just fall into place.

At around three-thirty, my first phone call came. I had said for everyone to be here by six, and that dinner was at seven, but I had a feeling things weren't just going to fall into place.

I answered the phone and was greeted with a bout yelling, screaming and complaining. It sounded as if I had interrupted a flock of squabbling gulls. I tried to greet the noise but it just got louder. Finally, I heard a muffled, but rather loud, "Silenzio, bambini! Your father is trying to talk!"

Ezio, thank god.

I found myself actually dreading the calls from the Kenways. I wasn't good at formal calls. At all. At least with Ezio, I knew him well enough to know what and what not to say.

I tried again. "Ezio?"

"Desmond! Come stai, nipote?"

"English, Ezio, remember," I reminded him with a good natured roll of my eyes. It was really good to hear his voice after so long.

"Yes! Yes! I remember! English family and whatnot. I'll just stay my native tongue for people I haven't met. Ha!"

Another voice chimed in.

"Ezio, just be friendly. If your nephew wants you to speak English to his other guests, then you do it out of courtesy."

"Ci, ci, amore mio…"

The voice addressed me now. "Desmond? Hello, this is Sofia!"

"Hi, Sofia," I replied. "It's nice to finally talk to you."

"Oh, and I can't wait to meet you. Your father and uncle have told me so much about you!" Sofia fawned. I could already tell I was going to like her, so friendly and in control of Ezio…

"Now, bambino, we're probably going to be a little late. Marcello forgot his coperta at home and we have to go back for it. Sorry about that. I hope Altaïr has called?"

"Not yet, uncle. I hope he does soon though. I'm honestly dreading—"

"Papa! Marcello keeps poking me! Make him stop!"

"Marcello! Smettila!" Ezio barked at the shrill little voice in the background. "Sorry, Desmond. Kids, you know?"

"Ha ha, no I don't!" I joked, truthfully glad to be childless for the time being.

"We'll see you soon, Desmond," Sofia called out. "I'll let you know when we're in the area."

"Okay, Sofia, thanks. See you all later."

Ezio started to say something, but was cut off by a loud giggle and a crash. I heard the beginning of the word fanculo, then the call ended abruptly. I smiled to myself and hung up, hearing the satisfying click of my screen shutting off and a few precious moments of silence before my Stayin' Alive ringtone blared in my ear again.

"Please don't be Edward… Please don't be Edward…" Click. "Hello?"

"—Is it on? I don't think that it's on. Darim, what is this silly thing?"

"Dad! It's bluetooth. Just say hello," I heard Darim coax his father.

I inquired, though a already knew who it was. "Altaïr?"

"AH! Desmond! Can you hear me alright? AM I LOUD ENOUGH?"

"Yes! I can hear you just fine, uncle," I reassured. I laughed to myself at Altaïr's inability to keep up with the technology of today, while having sired such tech-savvy sons.

As if reading my mind, I heard Sef in the background pipe up with, "Dad, you don't have to yell so loud."

Before the arguing started, I interjected loud enough for the whole car to hear. "Are you guys on your way?"

"Yes, we just picked up Darim from the hospital. They said it was permanent."

"Oh my god, is he okay?" I asked, momentarily alarmed.

"Desmond, I'm fine," Darim spoke up. "Excuse my father. You know his sense of humour."

"Ha ha…" I mumbled, rolling my eyes, feeling like an idiot. "So what does that mean? Did you…?"

"Yes! I got the job," Darim announced proudly. I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Congratulations," I exclaimed. I suddenly heard a call waiting sound. "Just a second guys, I have another call coming in." My interjection went unnoticed, luckily, and I slipped into my incoming call. "Hello?"

"Desmond," a curt upper-class English accent not so much greeted me as vaguely regarded me.

"Hey, Haytham," I said, purposefully nonchalantly, knowing the informality might irritate him. I could practically hear the disgruntled scowl on his stern face. "Are you—"

"When were you expecting guests to arrive?" Haytham interrupted coldly.

"Um… Around sixish?" I answered, trying to be polite.

"What time?" he suddenly demanded. "Give me a time."

Jesus, and I thought Clay was control-freaky… "Six o'clock!" I gasped.

"Very well."