I think I've been holding onto these two chapters for like... 5 months. So style might be a little different but WOW I have been waiting for these chapters. They're exciting :3

It was late. The others had gone to sleep by now. Even Altair had consented to rest and Jake had dragged him off somewhere to sleep a few hours at least.. Desmond was the only one of them awake, he was on watch, because one of them was still awake to make sure things didn't go sideways. Night watch was normally boring, but Desmond had a lot on his mind. Too much probably. His mind wouldn't let him rest, it was like a caged animal, pacing, back and forth and back and forth. It wouldn't quiet down.

What if this was what Altair felt like?

It would explain why he couldn't sleep.

He twisted in his seat when he heard someone walking towards him from the stairs. "What are you doing up?" he asked Lucy as she padded over to him.

"I couldn't sleep, I thought you could use some company," she said in a quiet voice, to not wake the others in the building since they both knew the others could be light sleepers. Desmond didn't doubt she couldn't sleep, if he couldn't he wondered what it was like for her.

He hesitated, he wanted to tell her no, go back to bed, she deserved something like sleep after what Hera had told them. Though she'd come out here because she didn't want to be alone. Desmond could understand that. "Sure," and he pulled his feet off the chair he had them stretched out on and offered it to her. She sat. She was still in her night clothes and her hair was down. She looked tired, and vulnerable and he felt irrationally angry for what the proeathans had done. One for killing her, another for doing this to her. No one deserved this.

Her arms were crossed over her chest as they watched out the window. The city was as quiet. Dead. Not even a dog. His pacing thoughts stopped, because they couldn't get past that Lucy was sitting there, next to him. It still messed with his head, that she was alive. Well, something like her was alive. In all ways the two were alike, same personality, same features, everything was perfect, except for her genetics. The proeathans hadn't replicated that. But did that mean anything really? It was sort of hard to wrap his head around that the woman next to him was only about five years old, though she looked twenty four, the same age Lucy had died. But then, Desmond was thirty, the proeathans had kept him looking as he had when they'd put him in that fucking pod; twenty six. He didn't think he should be surprised.

"What're you thinking about?" he asked after a long time with only the sound of the rain between them.

"A lot," she said with a tired huff of a sigh. "A lot of what happened today," she turned to him, they were still the same shade of blue, but they were just a bit different. Before she hadn't had a dark ring around her pupil, now she did. The differences were tiny and insignificant, unnoticable. Like the just so shade of blue of her eyes, or the blonde of her hair, or how many freckles she had on her face. Stuff like that. Stuff that was nearly impossible to duplicate because nature usually didn't make perfect duplicates. Even identical twins weren't really identical. "I feel like a fraud," she said and bit her lower lip.

"I think it could be worse," Desmond said.

"And how do you think that?" she asked sending him a look.

"You could have an evil clone," and that made her giggle a little.

"Only the hero gets one of those," she teased.

"Lucky me," he sighed and kicked his feet out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. "And you're still you," he said and then looked at her, "Mostly at least. Who knows, I might be the actual clone," and he waggled his fingers at her.

She smiled, "You're not," she said, sounding very sure of herself.

"And you know this for a fact?" he asked, sceptic.

"Mhm," she nodded and uncrossed her arms.

"How?"

"Because," and she paused, looked away and bit her upper lip, "it hates me," she said softly.

"What?" that was news to him. "But… it's me."

"They did something to it," she said. "I don't know what but…" she sighed and hugged herself. "They told me what my purpose was."

"A lure," he hated that too and rage roiled under his skin.

"Yes. Just like before," she looked at him with regret, "I was supposed to gain your trust, and then bring you to them."

"But you're not going to, right?"

"I don't want to," she agreed. "I, supposedly, have one purpose, to make you come to them."

"Well that backfired."

"What do you think would happen if your clone didn't hate me?" she asked him.

Desmond didn't answer right away, "He'd try to kill me. God knows I want to kill him, and not even for any particular reason other than that he's a face stealer," and he frowned.

"That's why he hates me," and then she blushed, "I'm for you, a present-

"That is so messed up," he was quick to say.

"I know," she said softly, still holding herself. "This whole thing went sideways for them, because of the others. They weren't expecting them I guess."

"They didn't like… read my mind?"

She shrugged, "I guess that isn't how it works," she said. "It was supposed to go differently. It was… going to be a lot more awful," she pressed her hands over her face.

"Awful? Do I want to know?"

"No," she said softly. "You don't. They would have made me though, because I can't say no to them. Heh, I'm genetically engineered to do one thing," she looked down at her feet.

"Like, on scale of one to end of the world how bad are we talking here?" Desmond asked.

"Mmmm… never forgive yourself level."

He reached out and grabbed one of her hands, she looked up at him, surprised, "I'd forgive you," he said simply.

"I don't think you would," she said softly.

"The original you was with Abstergo the entire time we were 'on the run'," he said and she looked guilty about that, "I forgave her for that deception, because alliance doesn't matter if you're just a good person," he squeezed her hand. "She just wanted me to be safe, like you do."

"We didn't do a very good job," she said thickly.

"We were all under a lot of stress," he said.

"You don't have to make excuses for me Desmond," she said sharply.

"I'm not. I'm just not letting you beat yourself up over this, when you were trying to keep it together and make sure I didn't end up like Clay."

She squeezed her eyes shut, "I could have done more," she said softly.

"Nothing was going to fix me," he reminded her, "Except what Altair did. Now stop acting like the world is going to end."

She gave a sort of laugh, "In case you haven't noticed Desmond, the world has ended."

"Eh," he made a face, "I dunno, we're still here. Could be worse. Humanity can bounce back."

"Not if proeathans get their way."

He grinned, "Yeah, and they won't. Cause we're here."

She nodded and seemed to unfold from herself a little. They sat in silence for a while, Desmond kept hold of her hand and after a few minutes she shifted her fingers to lace between his. Outside it had started to snow lightly, barely flurries. It wouldn't stick though, still too early for this far south and close to the Sea. The snow traveled in great spirals, down and down and down and melted when they hit the barely warm ground. Soon the snow stopped and turned back into rain.

"You know," she said, "Like this, it's easy to forget anything happened. It just looks like any other miserable day in any European city."

He chuckled, "It does," he said and gently stroked her hand.

She looked at him, "Desmond. Stop," she said, blinking at him slowly.

"Why?"

"Please," she said, eyes going closed a moment. She pulled her hand out from his, looking like she didn't want to, but was making herself. He didn't move for a moment before leaning over the few inches between them and lightly pressing his lips to hers. She started to kiss him back when she suddenly stopped and pulled away, "I should probably try to get some sleep," she said and then was standing and walking away.

It took him a second to properly process that had just happened before he was out of his seat so fast he knocked his chair over. She'd made it to the stairs before he caught up with her. "Wait," he grabbed her arm and she spun around.

"Desmond, stop," she said.

"Why?" he had to ask, because even if she wasn't the original he still cared about her. Things that were insignificant were different, but it was still her. She didn't answer him, "Tell me," he said firmly, holding onto both of her arms now.

She couldn't look at him, "I'm just going to hurt you," she said softly, "I can't do that."

"No you won't," he said, she looked at him and looked like she was about to say something, "Because you already do," and he kissed her again, firmly. She kissed him back. If there was a cliche about being kissed Desmond was experiencing it. Fireworks, angels singing, holy light, butterflies and light headed all at once. It was one thing to kiss someone you were in love with, it was another thing entirely to hold them again and to be able to kiss them when you thought they'd been lost to you forever.

He pushed her back against the wall, one of his hands tangling in her blonde hair, the other on her hip, pulling her close, keeping her against him. Desmond freely admitted to (while she'd been alive at least) partaking in a fantasy here and there, Lucy did manage to pull off the sexy librarian look very well after all, but everything about this was so much better. Under the thin layer of fat on her body were muscles, so she was soft, but strong, and he appreciated that as she pulled him down to her level since he was more than a head taller than her.

They had to come up for air because that light headed feeling he was getting was from actual lack of oxygen. He would have been happy to not have to worry about such pedestrian things like breathing again, but he rather liked living since that meant he could keep kissing Lucy. And he really wanted to keep doing that. He cupped the side of her face and his eyes traced the subtle curves of her features, ending on her lips before kissing her again. Lucy's fingers curled into his hair, her trimmed nails stroking his scalp and he pressed his tongue into her mouth.

They both melted.

Part of him knew they needed to stop. Desmond was still on watch and he was doing the exact opposite of watching right now. Well maybe not the exact opposite. But pretty damn opposite considering he wasn't even in the room he was supposed to be in. That all went out the window though when Lucy slid her hand up under his shirt, along his back. What had he just been worrying about again? He couldn't remember. He groaned into her mouth as her fingers slid up his spine, like she was mentally counting each vertebra before sliding her hand around to the front.

"What were you saying earlier?" he panted slightly when they broke for air again.

"Shut up," she said fiercely and pulled him back down, practically smashing their lips together before they untangled their mouths to kiss properly. He grinned against her lips, this was why he liked her. She did know what she wanted, even if sometimes she denied herself it. And she always got what she wanted.

Desmond shoved her firmly against the wall, pressing his knee between her legs now thinking of other things. He wasn't even sorry. He was horny and the woman he wanted and wanted him was right here and he'd missed so many chances now and to hell with it all. A little, rational, part of his brain informed him that he'd get bitched at later for this by the others. He told that part to kindly go to hell, and his ancestors too, he was busy trying to get laid by a gorgeous girl. Then he was about to lose his shirt and he pulled back. "Wait."

"Oh c'mon," she groaned softly.

"I need to get one of the others for watch," he said. She sighed, "I'll meet you in my room," he added.

"Five minutes, or you'll be sorry," she said, holding onto the front of his shirt.

He grinned, "Yes ma'am," he said. She smirked and let him go and slipped out from under him. He watched her go and appreciated the curve of her ass. Then he shook his head. Head in the game for five damn minutes and then he could lose himself. Five minutes. He could last five minutes.

He went back to the watch area and did a check of the area, it looked okay. Then he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and then went to find Hawk. He said he'd be Desmond's relief that night.

Not bothering to knock he went into Hawk's room where he was sleeping soundlessly, one foot hanging off the edge of the bed of the house their commandeered, the toe twitching. He shook Hawk's shoulder, totally unconcerned for his own safety for touching one of his ancestors while they were sleeping. "Hawk, get up," he said urgently.

"Uhg?" and Hawk was awake and alert in two seconds and almost got ahold of Desmond's wrist to try and break his ulna. "Little Bird?" he blinked at him, "What are-

"Your turn for watch," he said.

"Already?" and he looked sleepily at the screen of his computer, which showed the time on it's clear surface. Luckily it was late enough for Desmond to request a watch switch.

"Yeah, c'mon, I wanna get some sleep," and he faked a yawn.

"Okay," and Hawk dragged himself out of the bed. "Off you go," and he stretched before going to the bag he had of his clothes to dress. "Nothing on the radar?"

"Not even a dog," Desmond said.

"Good," Hawk wiped his eyes. "Okay, I'm good. Go get some sleep."

"Okay," even if sleep was the last thing on his mind right now. He left Hawk's room and went to his own, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

"You're late," she said, sitting on his bed.

"No I'm not," he said closing the door and crossing over to her. "It hasn't been five minutes."

"You're late because I say you're late," she said smartly.

"Then, let me make it up to you," he said, leaning down to brush their noses together.

"Yes you will," she said, fisting his shirt and he kissed her. Hawk said get some sleep. He didn't know how much sleep he'd actually be getting tonight.