Charles Lee walked in to the tavern and up to the gallery where he was to meet with Haytham Kenway in ten minutes. He usually found Johnson or Church there, sharing a drink and some stories with each other, maybe even Pitcairn. And of course there was Hickey, too – the drunken soldier was always there, more or less unconscious, depending on the time of the day, with a pint in his hand and several empty glasses on the table, having no idea of what was going on around him.

This day, much to his dismay, Charles walked in to find only Hickey there, with the mentioned scenery accompanying him, but unfortunately, conscious. Charles only had to glance at him to see that he was still a good five pints away from falling under the table, which meant he would have to tolerate him until Master Kenway arrived.

"Good day, Hickey" he greeted the man as he sat down on the chair farthest from the other. He searched for the reports he had collected earlier in his coat's pockets, ignoring the man, then as he found them, started sorting them out. There was quite a mess of papers on the table already – maps, letters, reports and any documents that they needed for their search of the storehouse. All of them important, but as neither him nor Master Kenway spent much time in the tavern lately, no one organized them. Johnson was spending the second most time there but usually he just tried to gather the useful information from them and didn't have time for anything else, and Hickey, who spent most of his time there, well – he was Hickey, Charles expected nothing from him. Sometimes Charles was surprised the man even remembered his own name…

"G'day, Lee!" Hickey shouted back a greeting and Charles flinched at the sudden loud voice from across the table. It was only six in the evening, he wasn't ready to deal with drunks just yet. Much less with a drunk Hickey… Ugh. "And what brings you here in this lovely afternoon?"

"I am meeting Master Kenway if you must know" Charles answered shortly with a sigh, not looking up from the report. He really didn't want to have smalltalk with him.

"Master Kenway again, huh?" Hickey smirked at him in a way that Charles didn't like. Not one bit.

"Yes, we are going to have a discussion about the latest clues" Charles started, frowning at the other man. "He requested my help as I am his assistant."

"Assistant, is that right? Or should I say, right hand?" Hickey snickered at that, although Charles didn't understand what was so funny about his association with Master Kenway.

"Might as well, if it pleases you. I am, after all, his closest ally" he answered slowly, trying to put an end to the conversation. Dear God, why couldn't Hickey be lying dead drunk in an ally somewhere? Why did he always have to annoy him?

"Oh, I know how you wish you were his right hand" Hickey continued, having the smuggest grin on his face that made Charles want to wipe it off with a fist to his face. But now he was still somewhat intrigued of where the other was going with this. "And I mean his literal right hand. I wonder if you'd be as humble while touching him as you are during the day…"

"Stop it! What are you saying?!" Charles snapped at Hickey, jumping to his feet and knew he was blushing furiously. "How dare you say such things about Master Kenway? You…"

"Yeah, right, 'cause you weren't thinking them" Hickey continued to grin, raising an eyebrow at Charles. "You're only mad at me 'cause he ain't warming your bed and never will!"

"I told you to shut your mouth! You will not say such things!" Charles protested, trying to get the man to stop finally. It was bad enough that he had let it get to him, but if Master Kenway arrived and heard it… Charles had to admit to himself that he might have had some fantasies about Haytham Kenway… but it wasn't like he would ever have a chance to do something about them and it was definitely none of Hickey's business.

"Oh, c'mon, your moping is obvious!" Hickey snickered, not giving up apparently. He smelled blood and now it was going to be hard to stop him. "It's always 'Yes, Master Kenway!', 'Of course, Master Kenway!', 'As you wish, Master Kenway!', like you're his lap dog who hasn't got his treat yet!" he smirked as he imitated the other's voice while fluttering his eyelashes.

"Shut up! Or do you want me to wipe that smirk off your face?" Charles snarled, and stepped closer intimidatingly, raising a fist to confirm that he would gladly do it.

"You wouldn't dare!" Hickey stood and stepped closer as well, still grinning and ready to make a stand if needed, despite the fact that he was slightly swaying. "That wouldn't please Master Kenway…"

"Oh, you fucking git!" Charles shouted and moved to deliver the first punch when a voice stopped him.

"That's enough, gentlemen!" Haytham commanded, standing in the doorway with his hands casually behind his back and his expression unreadable. "I think I heard enough of your bickering. Thomas, you may leave. Now. Thank you" Haytham said and Hickey knew better than to disobey him, so he quickly left the room with a last taunting smirk thrown in Lee's direction, who at that couldn't help raising his fist menacingly. "Charles, please, control yourself!" Haytham disciplined him immediately.

"Excuse me, Master Kenway" he replied, casting his eyes down. Fortunately, Hickey didn't see this, he thought to himself and swore to beat up that drunkard later.

"Oh, what a mess" Haytham sighed, looking at the papers scattered around the table. "Would you be so kind and help me organize them, Charles?" he gave the man a questioning look as he already started collecting them into small heaps.

"Of course. What shall I do?" he stepped to the table as well.

"I am sorting out the letters, so you may focus on the other documents" Haytham said, not looking up from the papers.

Charles only nodded and started gathering some reports as he was ordered. In the silence that settled between them, Charles had time to wonder how long Haytham had been standing in the doorway – how much he had heard of their conversation. He wouldn't even have needed to listen too long, Hickey made it clear what he meant in his every damned sentence. Charles casted a worried look towards the Grandmaster every now and then, wondering if he should say or do something.

"If you have something to say, say it, Charles" Haytham sighed as he glanced up to see the other man watching him again.

"I, uh… I didn't mean to… I just- just…" Charles stuttered before taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts. He didn't want to look like a complete fool in front the Grandmaster, especially if he had heard the drunkard's accusations. "I only meant to ask, Master, what you have heard from the… conversation I had with Hickey."

"Well, I wouldn't call it a conversation, first of all. Quarrel, in the least" Haytham started, smiling a bit, to Charles's surprise. "But I've heard quite a bit" he continued, becoming serious once again. There was a few moments of silence before he spoke again. "Judging by your intense defense, I assume Thomas was right."

Charles felt his cheeks burn under Haytham's curious but otherwise unreadable gaze. He put the reports down from his hand, and fidgeted nervously, looking downwards. He was sure that the Grandmaster knew that it was true. If not because of his behavior during the fight with Hickey, then because of his embarrassment now. But he knew that Haytham was waiting for him to speak. Did he expect him to deny it? Or to admit it with his own words? He was unsure of what he should do…

"I… I must apologize… I did not mean to let you know of these… thoughts of mine…" he started silently but was suddenly stopped.

"Say no more, Charles. I did not intend to make you ask for forgiveness, there's no need for that" Haytham started as he put down a stack of letters from his hands. Then he walked around the table and stopped next to Charles, although he wasn't looking at him. "While Thomas was unnecessarily vulgar, I would like to know if he is to be taken literally or… if I should take a softer meaning of it…?" Haytham asked, giving Charles a sideways glance who could swear the Grandmaster was - blushing. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't seeing this with his own eyes. Was Master Kenway trying to ask if he felt anything for him? Was this his idea of flirting?

"Well, I would definitely soften it if I needed to speak them for myself" Charles said slowly, carefully because although the blush gave him some hope, he still wanted to be wary. One bad word and everything he had been working for would come crumbling down.

"That's… comforting" Haytham said with a relieved sigh. He looked at Charles, visibly hesitant, then away from him again. "Would you mind following me to my room?"

"Not at all, Master" Charles answered breathlessly, trying to remain calm despite his rapid heartbeat.

Haytham nodded at Charles's response, then without looking at him, headed for his room, assuming that the other followed him. He tried his best to keep up his stoic expression as he motioned for Charles to close the door behind them while he lit the candles standing on his desk, then turned to face the other who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Come closer, Charles" Haytham smiled at him, beckoning for him. "I don't bite."

Charles laughed silently at his master's words and obeyed him eagerly, slowly walking up to him until there was barely an inch separating them. He could feel the Grandmaster's – Haytham's, he corrected himself, as in the light of recent events, it seemed somewhat unnecessary to address him so formally – breath quicken and that was definitely a blush sitting on his cheeks. He smiled at that softly, then felt his own heart skip a beat when Haytham put a hand to his shoulder while the other cupped his face.

Time seemed to freeze when Haytham's breath ghosted over his lips as the man looked into Charles's eyes for a moment before meeting their lips in a soft kiss. It started slowly as they were unsure of what the other wanted, but their emotions quickly took over them and they lost themselves to it. Charles's hands came up to Haytham's waist, pulling him closer as the man circled his arms around his neck. In mere moments, none of them even remembered their former worries.

The sun shone in the room, flooding it with its golden rays. It shone down on the tiny remnants of candles sitting on the desk and reflected sharply from the shiny buttons of the overcoats that were lying on the floor, abandoned. Charles Lee stirred in his sleep and snuggled closer to Haytham who had an arm over his waist holding him tightly.

It was well past ten when Charles finally opened his eyes. After getting over the initial shock of where he was, he just continued to lie there with Haytham in his arms. While asleep, the man didn't look intimidating at all, but peaceful and happy. The ribbon was missing from his hair, so it was spread out freely on the pillow and around his face, its rich black color a sharp contrast to his pale skin. Charles had never seen him with his hair free before and he had to admit that he looked breathtaking. He had the best view to awake to.

He might not need to beat up Hickey after all.