When Connor awoke, he was confused, as he could not remember falling asleep; nor could he remember getting out an extra blanket. When he glanced over on the nightstand to see a sandwich on a plate sitting on it, he put two and two together.

Connor hesitantly headed downstairs to find Haytham sitting at the cluttered table, newspaper in one hand, at which he was looking at the front headline with disinterest. In his other hand he had a cup of what Connor guessed was earl gray tea. And, bizarrely, the air smelled like something was burning.

Connor hesitated in the doorway, wondering if he would still be angry about his escapade on the roof yesterday.

Haytham glanced up. "Connor." he greeted, before turning back to the newspaper, "I tried to make pancakes, but they sort of got burned..."

Connor sidled into the room and slid into the empty chair.

"Feel free to help yourself to anything in the cupboard." Haytham said.

Connor opened his mouth to say that he wasn't hungry when his stomach grumbled. Haytham looked up at him with an eyebrow raised and a wry smirk, seeming to know exactly what he was going to say.

Once he had found some (to be honest, rather stale) cereal in the cupboard, before plopping down into the chair he had sat in before.

"I was thinking that we could go to the history museum today." Haytham said casually, "They have a fantastic new exhibit on the American Revolution."

"Is it... Saturday?" Connor asked hesitantly.

Haytham looked up in mild surprise. "Yes. Did you have something in mind, that you wanted to do?"

"Well," Connor hesitated. "Every Saturday mom and I would go have lunch with each other, at a local restaurant, the Homestead."

It was something that Connor looked forward to every week. His mother had to work two different jobs to support the both of them, six days a week. Saturdays were the only days they really got to hang out with one another. They would usually just sit in a booth and talk, sharing a milkshake or a basket of fries and talk about whatever came to mind; what they did that week, any jokes they heard, or random upcoming projects that they may have, for either work or school.

Haytham frowned, considering. "Well, I'm afraid that we don't have a Homestead restaurant here, but there is the Aquila."

"The Aquila?" Connor asked.

"It's a local diner. How does that sound?"

"Okay." Connor muttered reluctantly. The Homestead had been a hunting shop, as well as a restaurant, and Connor doubted that this place that Haytham was talking about would have his favorite elk burger.

"Why don't you get dressed?" Haytham suggested after a moment or so, "It's not far, so we can walk, when you're ready."

It didn't take them long to arrive at the diner. The Aquila was owned by the chef, a loud, boisterous man named Robert Faulkner, whom claimed to formerly be a sailor.

Haytham and Connor sidled into a booth. The former scanned the menu while Connor gazed with disinterest out the window.

"I enrolled you at school." Haytham said casually.

Connor jerked out of his daydream and looked over at him. "What?"

"You're to start on Monday."

Connor looked at him in dismay. "But-"

"I know it will be difficult, but I think that the sooner you get acclimated the better." continued Haytham, "In the mean time, we can get to know each other better. I hardly know anything about you."

Connor scowled and slumped back against the back of the booth, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Haytham to speak.