AN: Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews.

Christine made it to Boston just as the sun began to rise behind the tall mountains. Its rays were shining brightly through the pine trees so much that she had to shield her eyes. Boston was a lively place, no doubt about that. She was flirted with numerous times by young woman whose mothers pulled them away quickly. It shocked her, yet gave her a sense of satisfaction that they truly thought she was a man.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt someone run into her. Hitting the brick wall spine first, she grunted as the stranger unexpectedly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into the small alcove between two buildings. He cupped her mouth with his glove covered hand, shushing her quietly. She was about to muffle a scream until she heard several men shouting and coming closer. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a swarm of redcoats run beside them, making the mistake of not looking just to their right. As the two remained silent and unnoticed, Christine thanked the lord above. However, if they were after this man who held her captive in his strong hold, she could not help but wonder what he had done to entice them.

A short while after they passed, she felt the stranger's strong grip around her waist, loosen. Turning around, she was greeted by a hooded man. She couldn't see his entire face, although she knew he was staring at her. One of the first things she noticed about him though was his skin. It was slightly darker than most of the men she had known previously. It made her question his heritage. Maybe he's Spanish? She thought.

"You ought to be more careful," he said, right before he noticed her suitcase. "Seeing as you are new to Boston, I presume?"

Christine glanced at her bags which were still right where she'd left them. Hearing him speak, she came to the conclusion that he was not Spanish due to the absence of a Spanish accent. Instead, he held the accent of any man you would meet in these colonies.

"Yes. I just arrived." She replied, lowering her voice to fit that of a man's.

The hooded stranger bent down to pick up her belongings. Handing them to her, she noticed how easy it was for him letting her know that he was very strong. "Here." He said as she took her things, thanking him. Without another word, the hooded stranger walked passed her, leaving her to watch as he made his way down the busy streets.

...

"Hello, Connor. How was your mission? I would hope you attained as much information as you needed?"

Connor Kenway closed the door behind him before he removed his hood and turned to Achilles, who was hunched over his cane. "No. I was unable to gather any information, though I did not try."

"Well I would suggest you try again. We need to gain as much information as we can to understand their next move."

Connor sighed, making his way past Achilles and into the basement.

"Connor!" Achilles called after him, following him to the foot of the stairs which descended into the basement. "I would not tarry if I were you."

"You are not me old man. Therefore, I would appreciate it if you would let me do my job how I see fit and not get in the way of it."

"If you wish to delay your duties, the Templars will be one step ahead of us. So I suggest you return and tail those men to find out what their plans are."

Connor growled, having enough of his mentor. "Enough!" He yelled, surprising the older man. He knew what Achilles was saying was true. If he delayed tailing the set of Templars, they would be one step ahead.

"I will try again," Connor huffed. "I will gather as much knowledge as I can about what they know and return with information." Climbing the stairs, he pushed passed his mentor and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

...

That night, Christine made her way sluggishly through the streets of Boston. She had entered many inns hoping to find a place to rest for the night but unfortunately, all of the rooms were being occupied. Looking around, she watched as the streets became less crowded with families who were rushing off to return home to retire for the night. It was times like these she missed home. There, she had a bed which welcomed her when her cold, heartless mother ordered her away. Continuing on her walk she suddenly felt someone run into to her, knocking her down.

"Oh my goodness, I'm terribly sorry, sir!" The stranger exclaimed, panic rising in their voice.

As Christine looked up, she was encountered by a young woman, around the same age as she was. Her brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail and her choice of clothes was not something she usually saw a lot of woman wear. "Oh, er, i-it's alright."

"Here, let me help you up." She continued, lending a hand.

Christine smiled and nodded in appreciation, letting this strange woman help her up. "Thank you, ma'am," She replied.

"My name is Myriam by the way. Again, I'm terribly sorry."

That's right, her name. She obviously couldn't go around being called 'Christine' dressed like she was and taking the role of a man. So she decided on the closest male name she could think of. "Cameron, Cameron Woodman. And you have no need to apologize. I'm quite alright." She smiled.

"Do you have a place to stay for the night? I see the night is beginning to grow darker and darker as we speak and some of the inns are sure to be occupied. If you would like, my husband and I have an extra room."

Cameron smiled thoughtfully, "Thank you, Myriam."

"Myriam!"

Both Myriam and Cameron turned to the deep voice behind them seeing a familiar face.

"Connor, what are you doing out here at this hour?" Myriam asked as the hooded man approached the both of them.

"I should ask the same of you, Myriam."

Myriam turned to Cameron, smiling. "I ran into this gentleman, Cameron and offered him a room. You know Norris and I both have a spare room. He hasn't anywhere to go and the inns are all occupied right now."

"Is this true?" Connor asked, looking past Myriam and straight at Cameron who nodded.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

Connor huffed, glancing back at Myriam. "Alright, I understand that it is both Norris' and your home, not mine. Therefore, I cannot tell you who to invite and not invite into it. Just, take care."

Myriam rolled her eyes. "Oh Connor, you needn't worry. I doubt this man will do any harm, right Cameron?"

Cameron nodded, smiling, "Absolutely, I am only looking for a place to rest, nothing more."

"See? You've nothing to worry about, Connor."

Late that same night, Cameron lay peacefully in her new bed staring up at the ceiling of her new bedroom. Myriam told her she could stay as long as she wanted, but she did not want to impose. Sighing, she rolled over and tried to catch some sleep. Just then, she noticed a white hood outside her window. It must be that young man that she'd met earlier, Connor.

Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, she got up and rushed to the window watching him as he ran through the trees outside. She could probably spot him anywhere this time of night with that white hood he always wore, she wondered why he was out this late. Did the man ever sleep?

As her mind flashed back to how they had first met, she thought she ought to thank him for saving her. If he hadn't pulled her into the alcove between the two buildings with him, she may be in a prison by now. Slipping on her jacket, she crept quietly out of her room and down the hall where she made it safely to the door. The lights were all off so it was quite easy for her to slip out without anyone noticing. Opening the door which led to the forest, she stepped outside and shut the door quietly behind her.

Looking around, she ventured into the night, being careful to not step on too many leaves for fear of being detected. As she looked up at the tree branches, she noticed that Connor had disappeared from them. Cursing under her breath, she wandered out, looking from side to side.

Little did she know, she was being watched from the bushes around Norris and Myriam's home. Finally leaping out, Connor grabbed her throwing her on the cold ground where leaves stuck to her easily. He hovered over her, unsheathing his hidden blade and held it to her neck. Gasping, Cameron turned sideways to avoid the knife's edge, thanking God for the scarf which flattened her bosom.

"Tell me why you are out here! What business do you have spying on me!?"

"I was not spying on you, sir; I was just going to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For what you did, earlier today, back when I first arrived. You pulled me along with you, out of sight where those redcoats were unable to detect us."

Connor didn't reply, he just stayed silent and still. "I did not do that for you. That was for my safety and it alone."

Cameron averted her eyes to meet his cold dark brown ones. She didn't expect him to be this cold, but his words held otherwise. "I'm sorry; I must have mistaken your intentions."

"That you did," He replied before he released her. "Go back to your room, it is late."

Cameron quickly stood, rushing to her bedroom without looking back.

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