"Desmond?"

He looked up at the sound of his name, more involuntarily than anything else, and saw that it was Gary. Reflecting briefly on his promise to Lucy, he smiled and offered him a seat.

"Haven't seen you around for a while," continued Gary. "Where ya been?"

"I was... why?"

"Last night, you weren't at the party, so I wondered..."

Desmond blinked and raised his eyebrows. "There was a party last night?"

"Sure was! Boy, you shoulda seen it! It was amazing. Rebecca threw it, and–"

"–then you just hit on why I wasn't there," interrupted Desmond.

Gary's brow furrowed. "What? Rebecca?"

"Yeah," said Desmond, turning the page of the strange magazine he'd picked up. "Rebecca's not too fond of me."

"What? Why not?"

Desmond shrugged and closed the magazine. "You tell me," he replied as he tossed it lightly back into its pile. "I'm still a bit lost on it, myself. She'd always been nice when I was on the Animus Team..."

"Maybe she was just worried about Lucy?" suggested Gary.

Desmond couldn't help smiling. "I hope so. I don't know, though. She seems to like you a lot, so she shouldn't have anymore complaints."

Gary looked away, somewhat uncomfortably.

Desmond's smile faded a bit. "What?"

"Well... I mean... I guess so..."

"No, come on, tell me," pressed Desmond.

"I just... you know, was thinking... yeah, but before I was even there, why was she nice to you then?"

Desmond paused and tried to understand this. "...Huh?" he eventually asked.

"I mean, if she had a problem with you hooking up with Lucy, she should've been on guard back then. It kinda got me thinkin'..."

"...thinkin'... what?"

"What if she doesn't like me and she's mad at you for not... I don't know, saving Lucy from me, or something."

Upon hearing this, Desmond was torn by three emotions. His initial reaction was to just laugh – it almost sounded like Gary was just making this up. But once that thought occurred, he was irritated by Gary's pretension again. And because of that, he was tempted to reach out and box him one in the jaw.

But instead, he settled for, "I don't think so. Doesn't sound like Rebecca. She's too straightforward for that kind of thing. She's openly rude to me all the time now. This is the third time I've not been invited to go out with the group."

"Oh, yeah, you missed the movie and the dinner from last week, didn't you?"

"Yes."

A look of sincerity Desmond didn't think could even inhabit Gary's face took over his expression. "That's not right."

Momentarily softened, Desmond shrugged again. "I guess not, but... well, that's life. Sometimes."

"It doesn't have to be," answered Gary, turning to look out the window with a glare on his face. "I tell you what, from now on, when I find out about something that's going on, I'll invite you myself. Deal?"

He held his hand out for Desmond to shake again. Desmond gritted his teeth behind his closed lips and reached out slowly to take it... He hoped Gary hadn't noticed the hesitation.

"Alright, sounds good!" exclaimed Gary with a rigorous handshake. "So..."

Desmond's grin was genuine as he leaned back on the couch he was in and waited for Gary to continue.

"...you've known Lucy a while."

Desmond's face became noticeably less friendly.

Gary still didn't seem to notice. "Can you tell me anything about her that might... you know, help me?"

"Help you with what?"

"I don't know, just... anything. What does she like to do?"

"Work, I assume. That's mostly all we've done since I met her."

"She never mentioned anything? Anything about fun?"

Desmond jutted his lower lip out. "Well, she did promise she'd show me that she knew how to have fun once we were through saving the world..."

"Really?" asked Gary enthusiastically. "What did she mean?"

"I have no clue. It happened back in Monteriggioni. That's all she said."

"What about when..." Gary dropped his voice to a whisper, "you know... the night?"

Too intrigued to maintain his off-putting demeanor (and what good was it doing, anyway), Desmond leaned forward. "'The night'?" he repeated.

"Yeah... When she was first... back, and it turned out she hadn't died?"

Desmond paused and looked at the stack of magazines again. It was a long silence...

"I'm sorry, man," Gary finally said. "Sorry, that's... private, isn't it?"

Desmond looked up. "Private? How so?"

"Well, didn't you guys spend that night together?"

Desmond snickered. "Not the way you be might thinking. I couldn't get that lucky."

Gary looked doubtful. He leaned back into the chair and folded his arms across his chest, smiling at Desmond with a grin that couldn't have been communicating "bullshit" any harder if it tried.

"No, really, we didn't," insisted Desmond. "Yeah, we slept together and kept... well, close, I guess is the way to describe it. But, no, we didn't do it."

"I'll ask her about it, I bet she tells me."

He nudged Desmond with his elbow. But by this point, Desmond was having trouble maintaining his temper.

So, to end the discussion (and the pictures of Gary having sex with Lucy that were running through his mind), all he said to that was, "I bet she does..."

It was too comfortable to even dream of moving when Desmond woke up. But, unfortunately, when work called, there was nothing else for it. Lucy had gotten up awhile ago, it looked, and when Desmond drug himself out to the living room, it was to see her writing something to somebody on his laptop.

Her eyes lit up again when she noticed him. "Good mor– er..." (she checked his computer clock) afternoon, Desmond!"

She was out of the chair and to him in a second. He felt a little dazed by her happy and attentive attitude as-of-late. Wasn't used to it, he assumed.

"Sleep well?"

There was a sly smile on her face as she poked the end of his nose for a moment and drug him over to the couch.

He almost didn't want to sit back down. "Sure did, mi'lady."

She pressed on him a bit, and he gave in – he sank to his back and laid comfortably there.

"Are you trying to put me back to sleep?" he asked with a deep sigh.

"Of course not," she replied.

Her hand traced his mustache and beard. They were quiet for a long time, just looking at each other...

"Want to come with me to work?"

She raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Tonight, when I go back to the resort, do you want to come with me?"

"You mean... I can do that?" she asked incredulously.

Desmond clicked his tongue. "Don't know. But I'm thinking we're going to do it, anyway."

"Well, I'd... like to know for sure," she said.

"Why? Nobody's ever there at night. The guests aren't going to know who you are. Just hang out in one of the lounges till they go to bed, then I'll give you the tour of the place."

"And if you're seen on camera, and fired?" she asked. "What then?"

"Then, I tell my parents I was seen on camera and fired."

Lucy sighed an exasperated sigh, but her smile was unchanged. "Mommy and daddy can't take care of everything for you."

"Says who?" whispered Desmond, raising his head and kissing her jawline.

"Says the laws of society."

"Mm hmm," was all Desmond answered with as his kisses trailed down to her neck. "I saved society. So if society doesn't like it, then society can suck my dick."

"Oh," said Lucy, head turned slightly to the side. "Is that your new philosophy?"

Desmond let his head fall back to rest on the couch. "Pretty much. Since last night."

She glared comically. "Unfortunately, society's a bit bigger than that."

"Says who?" repeated Desmond.

She was stuck on that one. After looking between his eyes for a moment, she just put her head down on his chest. "Nobody, I guess."

He lifted one hand to rub her back with. She exhaled comfortably. They laid there like that for what might have been anything from a minute to an hour. Desmond lost track.

"Come with me," he finally said. "Please."

"Oh, alright," she answered in false irritation. "I'll come. But first, I have to finish sending this email."

She climbed off him, and he sat up. "Email?"

"Yes, I've got an email from Shaun."

Inwardly, Desmond was seriously considering ripping the laptop from her. He thought he might be able to pass it off as aggressive foreplay. Maybe pretend he was tired of her being all about business and attack her.

He chickened out, though. Maybe later, he tried to convince himself. "What does Shaun want?"

"He wants to apologize for Rebecca and for not having come to see me yet. He's excited, though. He asks how you're doing, too."

With a nod, Desmond trailed away into the kitchen. A bag of granola was sitting there. He yanked it open with a bit more force than necessary as the clicking of keyboard keys resumed behind him.

I wonder what Rebecca even does to keep Shaun around? he wondered. She must be an extremely different person with him... I mean, extremely different...

His mind flashed across the letter from Mrs. Stillman. He'd promised to contact her whenever he'd next seen Lucy. He'd talked to her a few times since then, actually. He thought for a while that she might've almost been a better friend than Lucy. She certainly kept in better touch.

Until last night, I guess... he thought. No way would Mrs. Stillman have done that.

He was still trying to savor his treat from last night with anything he could. He had a feeling it might not happen again for a while. Lucy seemed to be that type. She'd dive in and then out as soon as she had her fill, and then she was perfectly comfortable just going on about her business without worrying about it. Desmond groaned as he thought about it. What if it took her longer than a week to decide she wanted some kind of sexual contact this time?

Maybe she'll be happier because I did better this time.

But he knew it probably didn't matter. One thing she had told him before, she wasn't a sex expert, and she didn't know everything there was to know about it What if she didn't know the difference?

At a college party of sorts once, Desmond had snuck off into one of the back rooms with one of the girls there, and initially, it really had been his intention just to talk to her. She had other plans, of course, but she did teach him quite a bit of interesting things about women. For example, their expectations usually weren't all that high. An asshole might just use that to his advantage without a second thought or a backward glance, though Desmond liked to think he wasn't typically an asshole. But the memory did make him wonder if Lucy, being something of a skeptic, wouldn't be able to know the difference between a good lay and a bad lay. Did women do that?

Prior to losing to her mind, Rebecca had once hinted in Monteriggioni that, sometimes... they did.

"Are you absolutely sure we should be doing this?"

"Lucy."

"Because if you get fired because of me, I'm going to feel terrible."

"Lucy."

"No, really, Des–"

"Lucy Stillman!"

She ducked her head and sighed. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I really am excited, though."

"Yeah, I bet you are." He grinned and leaned back a bit in his chair. His arm found its way around her. "It's a really nice place."

"I've seen the pictures," she replied, leaning against him.

The pictures weren't quite enough to prepare her for the actual sight. She sat up straight as Desmond turned into the driveway a few minutes later. Her eyes darted all over the place.

"Wow..." she breathed.

Somehow, her being impressed by his place of work brought a grin to his face. That grin remained there as they got out of the car and he took her hand and led her up the pathway to the front door.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

The rug they were following was a brilliant green color, with golden decoration thread woven into the edges of it. As they reached the edge, she bent down and ran her fingers through the tassels.

"Perfectly clean," she said with a sigh. "Reminds me of home..."

As she stood up, he tightened his arm around her.

"I haven't thought about them in a long time now," she continued as they rounded the corner ahead of them. "I wonder what my Mom's been doing..."

They passed the lobby and were smiled at by a couple of the guests Desmond recognized. He returned the favor, but Lucy didn't seem to notice them.

"I remember the house we lived in. It was on Elm Street. My older brother used to joke about Freddie Kruger almost constantly. Halloween was a nightmare. You know, more of a nightmare than usual..."

She was smiling again, and it brought a smile to his own face. He clocked in and looked at her every few seconds, hoping she would divulge a few clues.

"His name is Kevin, so my other brother used to call him Kevin Kruger. Just wait till they were old enough to know what 'gay' meant... The jokes never stopped about how Kevin must've been in love with Freddie Kruger."

She seemed to think it was hilarious, but Desmond couldn't help thinking it was a little lame. Nevertheless, he kept his expression in place as they rounded the corner again and were behind the desk. The lady he was taking over for bid him goodnight as she walked by. He waved, but his mind was fixed on Lucy's family as she went on with her stories...

Suddenly, it seemed like her environment had caught up with her. She looked around. The office was a hallway from behind the front desk. There were several smaller desks up against the wall. Up ahead of her was a TV screen showing the camera footage. It was here her attention locked. Desmond leaned back in his chair and propped his arms up behind his head. She slid somewhat automatically into the rolling, rotating chair in front of it.

"Wow..." She leaned forward on her elbows a bit. "Cool. We really should have invested in something like this with the Assassins. And in Abstergo, I never got to see the monitoring bay."

Desmond's eyebrows came together as his arms folded across his chest. "How did you rig them, then?"

She looked back with a twinge of guilt visible on her face. "I didn't. Remember?"

"Oh. Right..."

She smiled the same awkward smile she usually did whenever someone brought up her betrayals. It hadn't been a comfortable subject of conversation at all. She had apologized more than Desmond had ever heard anyone apologize. He appreciated it, but he didn't think they all did. He remained convinced that William had seriously considered not forgiving her, or even killing her.

The thought of it made his teeth grind. He had tried to give his dad more of a chance this time. But he couldn't escape some of his past memories, and as such, he hung around behind Lucy a lot back then. She had become irritated by it, to an extent. She'd never showed it outright, but her subtleties were usually transparent. How she had lied to them all about such a major thing in the first place was a mystery to him. He wondered if she actually had... Sometimes, it seemed like she was just punishing herself for things that had nothing to do with her. Like... she felt she was at the center of everything that was wrong with the world.

Nobody else worried about me so much in the Animus...

But that could've been because nobody else cared. Then again, why was Shaun asking about him? Perhaps it was Rebecca...

Lucy didn't moved from the camera bay for a while. Desmond attended to several of the guests' various needs. Occasionally, somebody came by and asked for something. Lucy would jump right up and get it if she knew where it was. Actually, she'd even taught Desmond where a few things were. He was just looking forward to taking her around the resort for the rounds at night. There were only eight or nine cameras around the place so far, and they didn't cover everything there was to see, not by a long shot. So, when midnight came around, he roused her from her chair and they set off down the hall.

The first lounge was largely wooden. There were chairs lining it and a variety of lamps. Against the back wall was a bookshelf. Desmond had sometimes looked through them to see what was there. Mostly crimes and thrillers. Not exactly his idea of a comfortable, relaxing book at a homey spa getaway, but hell...

"I remember this book," said Lucy. "It's about two sisters, and how one of them is dating an abusive man. Her sister wants her to leave him, and she doesn't. He eventually kills her, and her spirit talks to her sister kind of subtly. It's... interesting."

"Yeah," was all Desmond responded with as he switched each of the lights off. "I read the back of it."

"She has such a great writing style, and this is one of her first books," continued Lucy.

"I didn't know you were a reader, Luce," he said, head cocked to the side.

She turned the top half of her body to him as she slid the book back onto its shelf. "I told you in Abstergo."

He frowned. "What? When?"

She began stepping slowly towards him. "I asked you if you've ever read Chaucer."

"That doesn't mean you're a 'reader', technically," he said.

"Chaucer's pretty complicated stuff," she replied, her arms going up around his neck.

"Mm hmm," he said as he leaned down to kiss her. "If you say so, Lucy."

"I do." She poked his nose. "Come on, I think it's clean enough in here."

And so, they headed just down the hall to the next lounge. Or, at least, that's what he assumed, based on the look of shock that came to her face when he pushed the door to his left open and pulled her inside quite suddenly. He was laughing as the door swung shut behind him and he flipped the switch on. She blinked against the bright lights.

"What the hell?" she asked. "Warn me, at least, next time, you bastar– mm..."

He had pressed his lips up against hers again. He pulled back and brushed some of her hair out of the way.

She checked his forehead. "Are you alright?"

"Quite," he said, pecking her lips once more before strutting to the other door leading to the dining room.

He felt her eyes on him as he unlocked the door and pushed it open into the dining room. A bowl of popcorn and several smaller bowls of fruit were sitting out.

"Cookies!" he whispered joyfully, seizing one and all-but throwing it into his mouth. "Here, take one. They go to waste if you don't..."

She had been just simply smiling at him up to that point, but it faded to an expression of nervousness – the one that she wore so frequently.

"Here," he pressed, shaking the one he was holding out to her.

Her eyes flitted between his for a moment, and she took it. "Thank you."

He grinned back honestly... innocently. "Sure."

Without another moment's hesitation, he gathered up the unused popcorn and some spray-on butter. As he passed her into the kitchen, he felt like something was different about her... As they wound their way through the rest of the first building, she was certainly quieter.

When they came to the salon front door and saw into the window in it, she gripped his arm suddenly and shivered. "Ooh. What happened in there?"

Desmond looked from her to the door. "Nothing. That's the salon."

"It feels... strange."

"Yeah, that's what the manager says. It's a nice place, though. We're not going in there yet, though. We're going up these stairs to the studios."

"Studios?" she asked as they began their ascent.

"Yeah, it's where they do their exercises and classes. The first one..." (he pushed the door open and held it there for her) "...holds all the treadmills and bikes and things."

She ran her eyes appraisingly over the room. Desmond passed her and climbed up to the office hanging above it, checking for garbage. There was almost always a ton of health bar wrappers in the fitness manager's garbage can. He rolled his eyes and began to dump it into the bag he'd brought from the first building.

As they left that room, Lucy leaned back into him again. He wrapped one arm around her and didn't let go as they reached the top of the stairs and into the second studio. This room was darker and larger than usual. Desmond looked down into the basket sitting by the door and saw it was full of sweat rags. He sighed irritatedly and grabbed them.

"Here, I'll take this," said Lucy.

"No, no, no..."

"Oh, Desmond, don't do that. Just let me help."

He shook his head with some exasperation. "Okay. Whatever..."

She winked and punched his arm.

They made their way down the stairs and came to the salon door. Lucy stood behind Desmond and he raised his eyebrows at her once as he pushed the door open. From behind him, he heard her inhale.

"It smells good in here!" she exclaimed.

"Sure does," replied Desmond. "Damn it! The water bottle needs changed."

While he pulled everything out, she took the garbage bag and began grabbing everything up. Desmond looked at her out of the corner of his eye and shook his head.

"Maybe they should have hired YOU," he said.

"Maybe so!" called Lucy from down the hall. "Wow! Who decorated this place!?"

"Don't know!"

"They did a fantastic job!"

"Uh... I guess!" replied Desmond with a shrug.

He heard her laugh in response. "Where does this garbage go!?"

"Just a second!"

He set the old water bottle down outside the door and followed the hall down to Lucy, who was waiting by the back door with the garbage bag. He pulled the door open and they were faced with the pool room straight ahead and the men's lockers to their left.

"The garbage goes inside that room," he pointed ahead. But as she began walking towards it, he took her arm and pulled her back to him. "Hold up, honey. First, I get the garbage from everywhere else."

"Like this one?" she said, bending down and emptying the small can next to the pool water bottle.

"Yes. Like that one."

They turned and edged their way into the men's locker room.

"Nobody's here," Desmond reassured her. "The guests are all women. And old. And I bet asleep."

It was quite a long locker room. There was a bathroom right next to them and a sauna across from that. The showers were in between the sauna and the steam room, and right across from them was a sink and a mirror.

"Wow," said Lucy for the thousandth time. "Is this real?"

Desmond chuckled and opened the sauna. "Yes, it is. No towels..."

"'No towels'?"

"Yeah, sometimes they leave towels here."

"In the sauna?" asked Lucy. "That's nice of them."

"Oh, yeah. Check the steam room, will you? If you insist on helping..."

She nodded and pulled the door open. "It's still on?"

"Yeah, it might be." He walked over and pulled the door open.

She was bent over, looking for towels on the bench and floor. His eyes caught on her, watching her feeling around on the tile... He slid his shoes off and edged up behind her. As he reached her, she stood up and he felt her jump a bit as he put his arms around her.

"Find anything?" he asked softly.

"Uuuhhh... Desmond?"

"Lucy?"

She turned slowly in his arms and looked at him. He was beginning to sweat, and when she was face-to-face with him, he could see she was, too. He followed it down her neck. Just before it disappeared under her blouse, he kissed it off her. She moaned slightly and put a hand on the back of his own neck.

"Here...? In the men's stream room? Where you work?"

"Yes."

"What if somebody comes?"

Desmond began kissing his way up her neck. "They won't."

"What if somebody needs you?"

"They won't."

"How do you know?"

Desmond stood up straight and looked her right in the eye. "Lucy, I don't care. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being all-business. Tired of worrying about everyone else. I'm not exactly a selfless person– "

She snorted.

"Oh, ha, ha, ha," he said, rolling his eyes. "The point is... stop worrying about it. We're saved. The world is going to live. Now, let's enjoy ourselves. Besides, getting caught in the men's steam room is hardly the worst thing we'd ever live through if it were to happen. And I'm telling you..." he bent down and kissed her cheek, "...it won't."

She considered this while he watched more of her sweat run down her neck. And all of a sudden, she looked up at him.

"Alright," she said, stroking her thumb down his cheek as a couple of tears ran down hers. "Alright, that sounds good."

Desmond raised his own hands and placed them gently underneath her chin. "Relax, okay? We'll find your family."

She furrowed her brow. "How did you– "

"–I just did."

He crashed his lips into hers. In response, she threw her arms over his shoulders and gripped him tightly. He pushed forward slightly and she stumbled back against the bench behind her. He moved a hand behind her head to protect her from being hurt – a trick he'd learned from his days at the bar. He smiled through their kisses as he sank to one of his knees and she to the bench. Their lips moved together comfortably. He slid his hand a bit down to the back of her neck and stroked it with his thumb as he poked at her lips with his tongue. She moved her own hands from his shoulders and put them to his thin beard, which she began to play with using her fingernail. He chuckled a bit and adjusted himself so that he was down on both of his knees.

The steam began to wind its way around their bodies. Desmond pulled back quickly and stood up. After looking into her eyes again, he pulled his hoodie off over his head. Lucy stood up, too, and gripped the tail of his t-shirt. She lifted it slowly and kissed his chest once before it, too, went off over his head. The sweat going down his body had increased. She threw herself up against him and recommenced their kissing. Desmond's hands slid down her back smoothly and found the buttons on her blouse. Deftly, they began to undo them. Lucy sighed and splayed her hands against his chest, picking a bit at his nipple with the end of her thumb. He leaned his head back and moaned, her mouth moving up his collarbone. The feelings were mixing together, creating a sensation that ran down his entire body.

She stepped back suddenly, and he looked at her with a slight begging expression. She smiled, her hand still on his chest, but he saw that there was still a few tears there. He stepped forward, taking her hand from his chest, and following it in for a sweeter, calmer kiss. Her smile faded into a more intense look, and she led his hands down to the bottom of her shirt, tugging upwards a bit when he locked his fingers around it. He took the hint and pulled it off of her. His eyes became hungrier for the quickest of seconds before his mouth shot down to return a bit of the favor from before.

While he did so, she leaned her head forward on his and began to undo his jeans. It took a minute or two, but she enjoyed every second of it, and soon they joined the growing pile of clothes in the corner. Lucy gripped the wall as Desmond became a bit more aggressive, backing her into the same corner that they had started from. He heard her teeth grit as she raked her fingers through his short hair. He spun her around before he raised his head and allowed her to remove his boxer-briefs. But rather than standing up after that, her lips wrapped around the tip of him. Almost involuntarily, his arms shot out and his hands caught the walls. Her happy work weakened his knees and he sank to the bench to lean back against the wall. She moaned a bit against him, and his hands played with the side of her head just like the night before... When she stood up what felt like just a few seconds later to him, she undid her own bra and slid out of her underwear. They topped off the clothes pile and without waiting even a second longer, she climbed up onto his body and slid down onto him.

As the fun began, their mouths reconnected and their sweat mingled together. Every time Desmond saw it, he was more aroused by it. The sight... The taste... Her hands on his chest. His stomach. Her legs balanced on top of him...

Slowly, but surely, he let them fall slowly onto the floor, and he reversed the roles. Her fingernails dug into his neck and his back and they moaned together while he moved. Some of Lucy's tears found their way between their lips, compelling him to comfort her by pulling her body up a bit and balancing her on his hips so that he could keep his arms wrapped tightly and unobstructed around her. She finally broke their kissing by throwing her head back and letting her own self-imposed limitations go. Desmond loved the taste of her, though, so he kept his lips to the base of her neck and moaned into her. Both the sound of his voice and the vibrations of his lips sent shivers throughout her whole body, as did the sound of her voice and the touch of her fingertips against the back of his head to him...

He suddenly pulled out and held himself out to her, this time with begging unashamedly written all over his face. And once again, she didn't wait a second. Just seconds after that, it was over. He sank from his knees to his back and laid there for a moment. He could barely see and the steam was making his whole body relaxed. He felt Lucy crawling up to his left side and in moments, her head was resting on his frantically-beating heart. He weakly raised his left hand and played a bit with her hair. His eyes wandered, and he realized the door to the men's steam room had been open the whole time...

His amused reverie was broken when he felt her kiss his nipple and began to cry. He lifted his head to look at her, then turned his body to hold her to him.

"Thank you... Desmond," she sobbed. "For... everything."

"Not a problem at all," he replied softly. He kissed the top of her head and brushed her hair with his fingertips. "Thank you."

He wasn't sure how much longer they laid there like that... and he didn't care...

After all the energy he'd exerted in the men's steam and locker rooms, he was tired for the rest of his time on the job. The last thing he remembered from that night for the longest time was falling asleep holding Lucy's hand on his leg in the passenger's seat of the car after it was over and time to go home.

The last thing he remembered at all from that night was collapsing into his bed on his back in his boxer-briefs and feeling her kiss him and whisper, "I'm really glad I went with you."

"Me... too," he sighed.

"Goodnight, Desmond."

"Goodnight, Lucy," he half-mumbled.

"I love you."

"I love... you, too."

And with that, his eyelids closed. From behind them, he could feel her settling in... and see the bedside lamp shutting off...