Hey all! I've been itching to write Connor and Haytham between my final exam stuff, so I started working off and on with this modern au. It'll probably be a series of oneshots and the like that I update as I'm inspired and whatnot, so I can't promise a regular update schedule but I will try my best! It also won't be restricted to just Haytham's POV; I'm going to try switching between multiple characters.

A Break for Coffee

He requested that we meet in one of the downtown coffee shops. I found, upon entering, that it was a nondescript place - a place I would have chosen myself, if I'd even known it existed. I ordered myself a drink (coffee, of course, and black, without any of the fancy little trimmings that these places were so keen to offer nowadays) before I seated myself in one of the shop's tiny, dimly-lit corners and ran my finger around the lid of the cup.

He was more than a bit late, and that was already souring my first impression of the boy. I'd come to expect a certain amount of punctuality from those around me in the past few years. It was completely necessary in my line of work; if you were late, you were gone. Or dead. It was simple as that.

I tried not to let myself get too impatient, however. This was our first meeting, and he was bound to be just as nervous as I. Still, I stirred my coffee and kept an eye on the front doors, wishing we would hurry up so we could get this over with. I wasn't exactly bursting with excitement to meet the boy who claimed to be my long-lost son.

The door swung open just as I was thinking that, and he entered with a frigid burst of air and snow. I knew it was him with one glance: he had his mother's hard set eyes, a messy-looking mop of her same hair, and - if I dared to think it - my own expression, though a far more sullen version of it. He caught me looking in his direction, raised an eyebrow, and turned to the counter to order himself a drink. Something about him was panicked, almost. How interesting.

I waited impatiently at my corner, still stirring my untouched coffee, which had surely grown cold since I arrived. The boy - a man, really, if I thought about it; he should have been about between eighteen and twenty by then - was fidgeting, waiting for his drink, hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. Hardly a posture I would condone. I straightened my own back, ran a hand over my hair as he finally took his drink and approached my table.

He paused a few feet away and motioned to me. "Haytham Kenway?"

I stood and offered him a hand. "The same."

He stared at the hand for a moment, then set his coffee on the table and reluctantly took it. His grip was firm, but unsure. I let him take his seat before I questioned him.

"Connor, correct?" I asked with a curious tilt of my head. He took a long sip of his drink and nodded.

"Yeah," he said, eyes lowered to the design on our table. "I'm sorry for just...contacting you out of nowhere-"

But I interrupted him before he could finish. "I'd like to know if you have proof that I am indeed your father."

Connor's gaze snapped up to meet mine, one part taken aback and one part angry. "Proof?"

"Yes."

The corner of his lip quirked. He reached up to touch something at his chest, and before I knew it, he was pulling a pendant from around his neck. He set it on the table, and my breath caught in the back of my throat.

"My mother gave this to me when I was young. She said it belonged to my father," he said, pushing it across the table. "Do you recognize it?"

I did. I touched the smooth metal of the amulet with the tips of my fingers. It had been so long ago, so very long...

"What was your mother's name?" I asked, my mouth dry, though I already knew the answer.

"Kaniehtí:io."

"Ziio."

He nodded again, more enthusiastically than before. "That's right. That was her nickname for- for people who couldn't pronounce her full name."

"I was one of them," I said with a chuckle, thinking back to that frozen afternoon. What had I called her by accident? Gods-diio, or something of the like. She'd laughed lightly - mockingly - at the time before she corrected me.

"I take it you remember?" Connor asked, motioning to the amulet in my hand.

"I...do, yes," I said, holding it up to the light. It was still just as untarnished as it had been the day I gave it to her. Connor and Ziio had obviously taken very good care of it in my absence.

"And do you believe me?"

"Somewhat, I suppose," I said, setting it back between us. It was my last memento of Ziio, and although part of me wanted to take it back for myself, I had to admit - reluctantly, of course - that it was rightfully his.

Connor gave me a look and opened his mouth to protest, but I stopped him with a quick wave of my hand. "I apologize. This is just very...sudden."

"I understand." His eyes dropped back to his drink. He hadn't touched his either. "I would have tried to contact you earlier, but... Ista- I mean, my mom wouldn't have liked that."

"I understand. We didn't separate on very good terms."

He gave me a brief look, one that I had difficulty identifying, before he looked away again, this time to the window, to the falling snow beyond.

"I've heard so much about you that I thought it was finally time to find out who you were," he said, so quietly that I almost didn't hear.

"Well, you've found me," I said. "Is that all you set out to do?"

"No, of course not, I..." But he hesitated, chewing the corner of his lip.

"Failed to think this far ahead?" I finished with something of a grin.

"I didn't think you'd actually agree to a meeting, to be honest."

"I am a man of many surprises."