I don't own anything from the Assassin's Creed franchise. All credits to Ubisoft.

Hi, not much to say only that please enjoy this chapter. They get into the Animus next chapter. Bear with me here (like I said, this isn't a fast paced story. But you'll hopefully enjoy it!)

Chapter One: The Beginning

"Déjà…" quietly said a male's voice behind her. She decidedly ignored it, hoping that the voice's owner would leave her alone while she continued to meditate in a sitting position on the floor.

She should have known better though. "Déjàààààà," he hissed. She felt herself grow irritated, her eyebrows drawn together while her eyes were shut.

"Déjà!"

"What!" she snapped, opening her eyes and turning in her spot on the ground to glare at the person aggravating her.

"Well, there is no need for that look," the familiar man said defensively with his British accent, while in a squatting stance. She could tell he was smirking just slightly though. "Was I bothering you?"

"You knew exactly what you were doing, Shaun," Déjà grumbled. "Ten minutes to be alone. That's all I asked. Ten minutes…and you can't even give me that."

She could see that he was amused; his light brown eyes were twinkling with its usual mischief behind his thinly rimmed, black glasses.

He shrugged. "I don't know why you're sitting in the dark and silence when there is so much work to be done," he jabbed with the slightest amount of playfulness.

Déjà did not let up on the glare so he rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright," he sighed. "I'm sorry I intruded on your alone time."

"Meditation," she corrected him, rising to a stand. "And now that you got me all riled up, I'm going to go practice martial arts instead…."

"To get out all that pent up aggression?" he replied, poking fun at her, also standing up from his position.

Déjà ignored him. "What do you want, Shaun…?"

"Testy, aren't we?" he said. "I just wanted to ask you about something."

Déjà growled at him before she turned away, seeing that he had invaded her and her roommate's bedroom. "Because it couldn't have waited?" she asked in an irritated tone, sipping water out of her cup on the dresser.

Shaun leaned against the wall. "Bothering you never waits," he said, trying not to smile. Déjà hated when he was in one of these moods. He liked to test her patience and try to provoke her into a fit of anger…but that was just Shaun being Shaun. She figured he wasn't paid enough attention to as a child.

"You've got ten seconds to tell me what you want, or I will seriously kick you in the balls," she snapped, giving him a warning look.

"That's not very nice, Déjà. No wonder why the kids never played with you when you were little…it's because you threaten to beat them if they were the slightest bit mean to you," he teased. Déjà took a step towards him and he backed away from her automatically. "Look, all I was going to say is that I know you have a problem with Lucy and vice versa. You can't hide it."

He had spoken rather quickly to ensure that her foot would not grievously injure him.

"That's not a question…"

He made a noise of annoyance as she walked away. "Fine," he said loftily. "Why do you and Lucy have such a hard time remaining civil? Or rather, why do you two hate each other so much?"

"I don't hate her, Shaun," she snapped defensively, her deep blue eyes darkening in irritation. "That's a large assumption."

"Right," he replied skeptically.

The exited her room and out into the large storage area with a high ceiling and metal boxes piled high. This was their hideout, a large and previously abandoned warehouse in Italy that she, Shaun, and their other partner, Rebecca, used for their research, as well as to veil themselves from the sight of Templars and the company they ran, Abstergo. However, Déjà knew it was only a matter of time before the Templars was able to locate them, seeing that they are better funded and better equipped than the Assassin Order that Déjà had been born into.

They were now bringing in two more people: Lucy, a long time friend of Rebecca, who she hasn't seen in seven years, and someone that Déjà had never met but heard much of, Desmond Miles. Lucy had been in an internship at Abstergo as an genetic researcher for the last seven years, or at least that was as far as Déjà knew. However, during that time, she reported a lot of information back to the Order, revealing much about Abstergo. Now, the Order had assigned her to a recently assembled team, run by Déjà with Shaun and Rebecca to further delve into Desmond's ancestor's memories. Lucy had come to the warehouse hideout last week and left just this morning to rescue Desmond from Abstergo.

From what little Déjà researched of Lucy, it seems as though she was very well qualified in the field of neuroscience and also what is considered pseudoscience. Déjà also found out that for the first three years in Abstergo, Lucy was largely responsible for the design for a number of the Animus' functions and interfaces for the company. Apparently by an order that Déjà didn't know who from, Lucy was supposed to be killed so she could not speak of the Animus, but Dr. Warren Vidic, head of the Animus project, intervened, keeping her alive.

But now Lucy is supposedly breaking Desmond Miles out of Abstergo and both are coming here, for that's apparently is the command of the Grand Master of the Assassin Order. Déjà wouldn't argue, but Lucy has only been with her, Shaun, and Rebecca for a about a week, and already her and Lucy have been at odds several times. Rebecca, Déjà, and Lucy were all sharing a room but Déjà decided that she would just let Rebecca and Lucy take it while she would move her stuff out into the vast storage room on the walkways above.

Shaun took a seat on a one of the many metal storage boxes while Déjà started practicing some extensive martial arts moves.

"Look," she said, in the middle of one her forms and dropping her voice, "like I said, I don't hate Lucy. I just have a hard time working with her."

"Why?" Shaun pressed, crossing his arms with an expectant expression.

She exhaled through her nose before answering. "She's inflexible," said Déjà flatly.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Inflexible…"

"Yes, inflexible," she snapped again, struggling to keep her voice quiet. Because Lucy was a friend of Rebecca, Déjà didn't want Rebecca to hear them. Déjà finished her form and moved onto the next one before speaking again. "Lucy likes to run everything her own way. She thinks she's entitled to boss us around or something, I don't know…. You saw her yesterday! She gave you more work than the rest of us and she thinks that because she has more knowledge of Abstergo and their technology that she is, therefore, in charge. Although, technically, it is well known that this is my team and therefore, she is under my jurisdiction, which is rightfully justified because of my title as a Master Assassin and she holds no such title."

Déjà breathed in heavily, trying to remain calm but talking about this was beginning to make her a little angry, defensible or not. Because of her bubbling irritation, she was starting to throw powerful punches and complicated kicks as if someone actually in front of her to take the blow.

"But you don't necessarily command us as you will," said Shaun. Which was true. Though Déjà had a generally "alpha dog" type personality, she didn't order him or Rebecca but worked with them as equals because she figured it would bring about a better relationship between them…though Shaun and Rebecca were always bickering with each other multiple and pointless things.

"Exactly!" said Déjà, exasperated, sparring an imaginary opponent. "That aside, she's a fricken box about everything. Everything has to run in sequence, a certain way, A to B, one to three. It can't deviate from that, otherwise, she goes off and into a damn rampage. It's shit like that that pisses me off, Shaun. Not everyone is a Type A person. Not everyone is so anal-retentive where everything needs to be a certain way."

Déjà stopped, keeping her breathing even. She wasn't winded but she was growing a little hot. Shaun couldn't help but be somewhat amused with her reaction because it was clear she was taking out her aggression on air.

"And another thing!" she said abruptly, turning to Shaun again. "She lacks the most basic skill of an assassin."

"And what's that?" said Shaun, thoroughly enjoying that Déjà was getting irritated.

"Improvisation!" she said heatedly, resuming her sparring. "She's done well enough as an assassin thus far, but honestly, because she is so fricken linear in thought, if a mission doesn't go exactly as planned, as rare as it is for her, she panics. Lucy doesn't know how to think on her toes as well as she should….

"That's part of being an assassin. It's the ability to find other options in a matter of seconds and she doesn't have an intuitive sense to her. Like today, I have a feeling something didn't go according to plan and she's having a hard time improvising."

Déjà paused. "Look, Lucy is a great asset to the Order, I'm not saying otherwise. I just think she's rough around the edges."

Shaun finally unfolded his arms.

"Not everyone was born into the Order, Déjà," said Shaun. "We haven't exactly had a lifetime to learn the ways of an assassin."

She sighed, knowing that he wasn't necessarily sticking up for Lucy on her behalf but merely was showing a perspective for Déjà to see, even though she didn't feel like seeing it.

Déjà had been born into the Assassin Order. From birth, she was destined to become Master Assassin, and hopefully the Grand Master, especially because she had come from a line of assassins, dating back to time of the Crusades. Because of that knowledge and status, the Swann family was held in high esteem in the Order. Since she was a few years old, both her parents had taught her the Creed as well as train her to be an assassin. By the age of twenty, through various missions, she had received the title of Master Assassin.

A week later after receiving the title, the Templars killed her parents.

Because of their deaths, Déjà has made it her life's mission to avenge their deaths as well as find the Apple of Eden, a quest her parents had been on for decades. Two years later, she hasn't had much to account for. She had no names on who precisely murdered her parents and no sign of the Apple of Eden.

She hoped this Desmond Miles would reveal some answers.

"I'm not idiot, Déjà…" Shaun's voice cut in through her thoughts. Déjà slowly stopped kicking and looked at him.

"That's debatable," she teased darkly.

He snorted before adjusting his glasses. "There's something else about her you don't like," he said, ignoring her banter. "Something you've left out specifically, which you know you can trust me."

She knew she could, despite how annoying and sarcastic Shaun could be. Ever since he and Rebecca joined into a team with her about a year ago, Déjà and Shaun have had a relatively good relationship. His biting cynicism and dry humor appealed to her, not romantically, of course, but it made for a good friendship. In time, she grew to trust him and though no one would ever catch her openly admitting it…Shaun was basically her best friend.

Déjà averted her gaze from his.

"I don't trust her…" she said quietly.

He snorted. "Well, that's obvious," said Shaun, rolling his eyes.

"No," she replied, looking at him with a hard expression. "I mean, I don't think…" she sighed, trying to formulate her thoughts to words. "I don't think I'll ever trust her, Shaun. Lucy could save my life and I wouldn't trust her."

Shaun looked at her pensively. "I don't understand," he said finally. "Do you have any sort of basis for that feeling?"

She shook her head. "No…" she admitted, falling silent for a moment or so. "Okay, I'm not saying that this is what is…but I don't know…."

Déjà didn't know how to say it without feeling a little guilty. "I just…" she stopped again. She was struggling with what she wanted to say and Shaun could see that.

"Just spit it out," he said impatiently.

She shifted her gaze uncomfortably before dropping her voice into a whisper. "What if she's a Templar? That's what I mean by 'I don't trust her'…"

Shaun was clearly in shock with her accusation. "You think Lucy is a Tem-?"

"No!" cut in Déjà quickly. "I'm not saying she is, Shaun. I'm just saying…what if?"

"You can apply that question to anyone, Déjà!" he said, throwing up his hands. "What if Rebecca's a Templar? What if I'm a Templar?"

Déjà gave him an "I'm not amused" glare. "Well obviously you two aren't. I can't possibly see you both working for the Templars…" she explained with a harsh tone. "All I'm saying is that I wouldn't put it past Lucy to betray us. She betrayed them, technically…so who is to say she isn't capable of pulling that shit again but on us."

"Point taken," conceded Shaun. "By the way, did Lucy ever say when she would be arriving back with this Desmond Miles character?"

"One-ish is what she told Rebecca yesterday."

Shaun pulled back his sleeve slightly of his tan sweater vest to reveal his watch. "Well, it's 12:30. She should be here soon."

Déjà exhaled heavily. The conversation really put her in a foul mood. "I'm going to take a quick shower then," she said, turning to the bedroom wing again.

Shaun nodded and stood up. "I'm going to go check on Rebecca," he said. "I think she's setting up the Animuses…or is it Animi? Anime? No, that's that Japanese cartoon crap."

She had to laugh at his random babbling as he walked up towards the metal ramp leading to the research room. "Shut up, Shaun," she said chuckled. "You sound retarded."

"Well, it's a serious question!" he exclaimed. "What the hell is the plural form of Animus anyway?"

Déjà ignored him.

As hard as it was for her to admit, even to herself, she was a little nervous about going into the Animus. She hadn't done it before, not that the opportunity had presented itself until now. Déjà knew she came from a long line of assassins, ones that had dealt with the Apple of Eden and she hoped she could find the one of them must have the answer to where the Apple was hidden.

But that was a lot of different people's memories she would have to search through, even with Desmond Miles' help.

At least with the two of them though, there was a high chance that one of them will run into the answer.

Déjà had talked to Rebecca, seeing that Lucy didn't tell Déjà shit, and it sounds like Lucy had a lead on where the elusive Apple of Eden was hiding.

According to Lucy, at her time in Abstergo, one of the subjects of the Animus project, had become obsessed with an specific assassin during the Renaissance period in Italy. Rebecca kept referring to the subject as Subject 16, saying that Lucy refused to give a name, especially since he ended up dying because he had been locked away in the Animus for too long…sometimes days a time. Rebecca said that Subject 16 had literally gone insane because of it.

That was also why Déjà was nervous to work with the Animus…but she trusted Rebecca and her revamped Animus, which was called the Animus 2.0, or affectionately nicknamed "Baby."

Anyways, Subject 16 always would come back and reference an assassin in the Renaissance period. So, when Desmond arrived at the warehouse, following the assassin from that time period was their first lead they would act on.

Déjà wasn't sure who she would end up following in the Animus but she wondered vaguely if she would end up retracing the same memories as Desmond would, seeing that it was highly possible for them to share ancestors, especially since both were born into the Order.

She had finally reached her room. She grabbed clothes and hurried to the shower.

Déjà had heard a lot about Desmond Miles; he better damn well live up to his reputation or she will be pissed.

Déjà drummed her fingers impatiently on the metal desk she was sitting behind, glancing at the clock at fifteen-minute intervals. Lucy said she would be back at the warehouse by one o'clock.

It was almost four thirty.

Shaun and Rebecca found ways to keep themselves occupied. Shaun was busy researching away, as usual, about the Italian Renaissance. He didn't precisely know who or what he was going to be looking for but he thought he should read up on it. Rebecca was always continuously tweaking with the Animus. When she was satisfied with one, she would replicate it with the second Animus.

Right now, she was listening to music in her headphones and working at her computer on the Animus interface.

Because of this, they weren't so concerned about Lucy's tardiness. Déjà wasn't heavily worried but there was a possibility that they were captured…which would set back a lot.

I knew this would happen…she thought, shaking her head to herself. I even told Shaun it would….

"Yes, please keep drumming away over there, Déjà," said Shaun irritably, turning from his corner of the research room. "It's a lovely sound, really. It helps me concentrate."

Déjà glared at him, but more so playfully than out of anger, and stopped drumming her fingers. Shaun shook his head at her as he returned to his computer.

"If you're so bored waiting, why don't you come here and read this? It'll give you background on Desmond Miles," he said as he turned back to his computer. He picked up a small stack of paper and waved at her.

She stood up with a heavy sigh and walked over to Shaun, vaguely wondering why he didn't just input Desmond Miles' file into the database instead of printing it. Déjà snatched the papers from his hand and leaned against the long wooden desk. It was only about a three-page report…so there must not be a lot of information about him.

The front page was the most basic information on Desmond Miles. His birthday, his height and weight, his occupation, hair and eye color, his blood type, birthplace…random facts about him. It also included a picture of him, one he took for his license for his motorcycle.

Déjà gazed at the picture for a moment. He wasn't a bad looking guy. He had black hair, cut very short, almost buzzed and what looked like hazel eyes…no, they were fairly light, almost like a really light green. He had a relatively good-looking facial structure, though his brow bone was a little dominant, slightly overshadowing his pretty eyes. There was a little bit of a five o'clock shadow on him and Déjà could see a long, thin scar running vertically across the right hand side of his face at his lips.

"Did you get distracted with the picture…?" jabbed Shaun from beside her while he scrolled through notable painters during the Renaissance.

Déjà fiercely smacked him upside the head with the stack of papers. At contact, he cringed, though it didn't hurt.

"You're so violent!" he exclaimed, his voice riding on the edge of a whining child. "Why do you always have to resort to hitting me as a way to rid your frustration?"

"Because you're an idiot," she replied immediately, punching him in the arm.

He made a noise of pain and shot her a glare, rubbing his arm tenderly. "Will you go sit somewhere else?" he snapped. "You're distracting me."

Rebecca let out a small laugh across the room, probably just amused with the fact that Shaun was getting beaten on.

Déjà rolled her eyes and stood up. She walked out of the research room, down the hall, and out into the storage hangar with Desmond Mile's file in hand. Bored, she decided to find a secluded corner to sit in.

She put the papers in her mouth and leapt up to a beam just above her. Déjà quickly pulled herself up, with little effort. She adjusted her footing so she could jump onto some heavy metal storage containers that were piled high towards the ceiling. Once she was safely on the boxes, she vaulted herself up to the left towards the metal walkway overhead. She easily grasped the edge and climbed over the safety bars, the floor being at least thirty feet below her now.

Once on solid ground again, she walked to the nearest corner and sat down with her legs out.

Shaun would have called her lazy for not taking the ladder…and she would have come back with a reply that would have been, "It's efficient…not lazy. Why take the long way when I can take the short way?"

His reply would be a short, snippy, "It's clearly more effort."

Déjà chuckled to herself and looked down at the file.

She reread the first page again. Desmond was A positive for blood type, it was put down as hazel eyes, though Déjà thought that was debatable, and black hair. It didn't say his complete birthday, only that he was born in 1987, which Déjà deduced that he was about twenty-five years old then. She wondered why that it didn't have his complete birthday when he had to have it on his license for his motorcycle. He was six feet tall and 170 pounds and he used to be a bartender.

According to the rest his file, Desmond use to live in an assassin compound as a child, known only as The Farm. Déjà had heard of the compound a few times in passing but knew not of where it was located because it was because it was an off-the-grid hideout for the Assassins there. The only information she knew about The Farm was that it only held about thirty people in it and its inhabitants weren't aloud to leave it, or at least the children weren't.

At sixteen, Desmond fled from the compound and went into hiding for the next nine years. Déjà was a little impressed with how long he was able to remain undetected by the Templars or the Assassins for that long. It said he only ever paid in cash to avoid tracing him through bank accounts. Shaun's report also revealed that Desmond never used his real name for anything.

The only reason the Templars caught him was because he was trying to get his license for his motorcycle and they used his fingerprint to trace him.

"He should've known better…" she said to herself while rolling her eyes. That seemed like basic knowledge to her.

She wondered why he fled The Farm. Clearly, he didn't want to become an assassin like he was supposed to, since he avoided it for so long. Déjà didn't quite understand that, seeing that becoming an assassin was all she ever wanted to do for as long as she could remember.

Maybe she would ask him about it.

Déjà glanced at his picture again for a second before standing up to go back downstairs. She leapt lithely off the scaffolding and onto the beam she had used to get up to the walkway in the first place, balancing easily on her toes.

She jumped back down to the ramp leading to the hallway towards the research room.

"That was a lovely read, Shaun," she said as she walked back into the room. "Too bad it only kept me busy for all of fifteen minutes."

"Indeed," he replied, uninterested. Déjà tossed the papers back onto the desk and wandered around the room.

Her meandering brought her back to where she had been originally. Déjà sat down behind the computer at the desk in the corner of the room. Idly, she opened up a game of Solitaire.

She hated being stuck like this.

Normally, she would be out in the field, on assignments for the Order. This is the first time in a several years where she was tied down to a team. Not that Déjà minded, but it was rather irritating to be confined and basically suffocated. That aside, she felt a little useless.

Being a Master Assassin in the modern times didn't just mean that you were great in parkour or being able to stealthily and yet publicly kill someone. Now, assassins had to master the art of technology.

And Déjà had, to some extent. She was exceptionally good at hacking…that somehow came natural to her. She could recode, unsecure files in seconds, and rewrite the entire script quickly enough….

As bright as Déjà was, she wasn't a prodigy like say, Rebecca, who was basically a genius when it came to building her own Animus…. So there was no way that Déjà could help out because she'd only get in Rebecca's way.

Déjà had no desire to help Shaun build his knowledge archives. That was just too tedious and well, boring. Plus, why would she want to help him out when he causes her hell everyday?

"Lucy!" said Rebecca's voice some twenty minutes later, breaking the silence between them. "You made it!"

Déjà immediately exited her eighth game of Solitaire and stood up.

"Sorry it took so long," Lucy said apologetically.

Shaun also approached her, hands in his pockets. "Welcome back," he said, slightly on the cordial side. There was something about Lucy that put her above Shaun's snide remarks. Déjà noticed that a while back, though it only showed to her that Lucy and Shaun had no close bond, seeing that teasing was his form of friendly affection.

Déjà was not all that interested in pleasantries when she walked up to them.

"Where's Desmond?" she asked, staring directly into Lucy's blue eyes. Déjà noticed a few blood spatters on Lucy's shirt but she paid no mind to them.

"I sent him to rest," she replied.

Déjà was confused. "To rest?"

Lucy shifted, slightly uncomfortable. "He isn't feeling well. He's in your room, Shaun."

"My room!" gasped Shaun, not particularly happy about sharing a room with someone else. "There's a damn bed in here we have for him, why is he in my bed?"

Everyone ignored him

"I see…" said Déjà, not wanting to press the issue. Besides, she had another question nagging at her brain. "Why are you so late?"

"Yeah, did you get caught or something?" said Rebecca, clearly interested in the story.

Lucy walked towards the desk that Déjà had been sitting at to put down her jacket.

"No, we didn't. We escaped with no problems…" she said, not meeting Déjà's eyes. The group waited for her to continue…so after an awkward moment, she did. "I was worried they were going to follow us once we got out of Abstergo, in case one of the guys we…beat up saw us drive away. I only assumed they were unconscious.

"In any case, I drove around for three hours, hoping to get them confused and they'd lose my trail, if they were," she explained. "I don't think we were followed but I did it just in case. So, that's why Desmond is resting, because he was in the trunk for three and half hours."

Déjà gaped at her.

"You've got to be kidding me, Lucy!" she said, an underlying tone of heavy anger in her voice. Lucy caught it and shot her the slightest death glare.

"What?" she snapped.

"You left Desmond in your trunk for nearly four hours!" Déjà exclaimed, completely dumbfounded with her idiocy. "He could've died!"

Lucy looked like she already knew this but was avoiding the guilt of it. "Well, obviously he's fine."

Rebecca and Shaun exchanged glances, carefully backing away a few feet from the pair that was about to get into another argument.

"Yeah, clearly," said Déjà cynically. "Hence him feeling sick…"

Lucy folded her arms, trying to remain calm. "I don't understand what your worked up about, Déjà?" she said icily. "Desmond's here and alive."

Déjà sort of laughed darkly, sensing the blow up coming. "Let's just think this through for a second," she replied with her own cold voice. "Desmond was in your trunk for four hours. He could have suffocated, which is why he is feeling sick right now because he was losing oxygen in there. Not only that, it's not safe in the trunk!

"Let's just say that the Templars or whoever knew Desmond was in the back of your car. They could've rear-ended you, seriously injuring or killing Desmond all together, dealing us a huge loss. Did you think of that, Lucy? He had a high risk of dying!"

The realization dawned in Lucy's eyes but Déjà could see that she wasn't about to concede.

"All I heard were a bunch of scenarios that didn't happen. Desmond is here, that's all that matters," said Lucy firmly. "I did what I had to be done in order to keep the hideout hidden for as long as it can be. How it was executed is irrelevant!"

Déjà seethed, making sure her hands didn't go flying.

"Nothing is irrelevant!" she snapped. "Risking the life of another assassin unnecessarily is ridiculous. You could have thought it through a little better. The 'what if' scenarios should have been at the forefront of your mind. You should already know that and I will make sure to remind you when it's needed. As I said, you could've gotten him killed and that would have been a huge cost the Order. A lot is riding on this guy, Lucy, mainly because of what you've been reporting about him.

"And this isn't the Lucy Stillman show, alright? I've let it slide for the last week but I'm tired of letting you think that you're superior to me. I don't care what you know about Abstergo. I swear on my life, I will get you kicked off this team in seconds if you undermine me or our whole operation. Do not force my hand."

It fell silent, both women standing at the same height, glaring at one another. Shaun had found it all highly amusing while Rebecca was more so indifferent.

"If you two are finished behaving like little children," said Shaun, hiding his smirk, "we have work to do."

Déjà and Lucy glared at each other for another moment before Lucy finally broke away. She turned to Rebecca and pulled something out of her pocket.

"Here, I got something for you," said Lucy in a gentler tone.

"Whoa!" said Rebecca. "The memory core!"

"A parting gift from Abstergo," replied Lucy with a smile.

"With their data, things are gonna go much faster!" Rebecca exclaimed. "I'll get to work on merging the code."

Lucy nodded before sitting down at the computer. With a final glance, Déjà turned on her heel to leave the room. Since Desmond wasn't going to be working with them tonight, she had no reason to stay in the room…with Lucy.

What could she say…? Déjà had a temper.

That aside, Déjà was genuinely concerned about Desmond's health. A lot of weight was on this guy's shoulders…and he didn't even know it yet.

It was definitely a good time to move her stuff out of the bedroom and into the storage room. As she walked to her bedroom, she had a feeling she'd get a jesting e-mail from Shaun.

She rolled her eyes.