Just for everyone's information, I didn't forget about this story, or lose the drive to write it, or anything like that. But, I do actually work a night shift job, and it's a bit more demanding than one might think. I also work another job about an hour away from my house, so it's a long drive.

Also, I had some very slight struggles with figuring out what direction to take this story. Originally, I had had a completely different plan, involving Rebecca and a bit more drama in the direction of what's happening with Desmond and Lucy currently. After thinking about it, and finding a little trouble getting it to be the way I'd at first seen it, I instead figured I would write it into the flashbacks, since that type of drama is the driving force behind why I started writing that into the story, to begin with. I'd imagined that for a long time before I even started writing: what would it be like if Lucy started dating some other guy, and Desmond had to stand by and watch it? Some of this also came out of role-playing AC with various others.

And speaking of, there's a lot of development in this chapter for the past part of the story. The scene towards the end, with Desmond and Shaun at lunch, was definitely one of my favorite scenes to write. It was the one that had at first popped into my head when I saw this story forming about a year or two ago.

Enjoy!

As is customary amongst workers, Desmond made some friends and some enemies at work. With the passing weeks, he found himself inconveniently stationed behind that damn desk more and more frequently. It soon went from October to the beginning of December. It got colder out, and there was some snow fall. Part of Desmond's building-anxiety were the driving conditions. He didn't like icy roads, and neither did Lucy. Two weekends straight of being late for work meant that he would eventually have to give in and leave earlier... which he eventually did, albeit begrudgingly.

Lucy hadn't been too happy with the arrangements, but she had been reluctant to go to work with Desmond again. His old frustration was coming back. He woke up in a terrible mood some days (or nights) and often left in the same mindset. He hadn't been particularly annoyed with her – or, at least, he hadn't shown it, he didn't think – but it was beginning to take a toll on them, all the same. She spent a lot of time over at Rebecca's, and he wondered what kind of things she was hearing about him over there. Shaun had sometimes been helpful to Desmond during times like these before, but it often pissed Desmond off when he remembered this because he still hadn't actually seen Shaun.

His coworkers were, at least, understanding. His favorite past time at work was office politics, although he knew he should probably avoid them after all the trouble they had brought to him during his time with the Assassins. He often got to talk to the housekeepers before they left, and there were some instances where he almost regretted being a committed (or as close to as he thought he would ever get, given the circumstances) man. They were funny, and they liked a lot of the same things he liked. Some of them reminded him of Lila.

Something he'd always thought of as being rather stupid was Facebook. When the war had ended and the cleanup began, he'd resisted the idea of getting a Facebook almost as much as Lucy had. But, with the increasing prominence of it in society, he figured he'd eventually have to cave in on that one. Everyone else had one, so... what could it hurt?

Quite a lot, it turned out. At least... for him...

If there was one thing Desmond had always prided himself on, it was his resistance to fads. He remembered when he'd first gotten a TV set how big a deal SpongeBob SquarePants was. And then, one of his girlfriends turned out to be a big Twilight fan. All of them: Hannah Montanna, the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Snuggies... The whole deal. He'd been firmly "against" all of it. But none of it poked at him quite as much as the obsession with Facebook. Facebook seemed to... do things to people, and nowhere was there a better example than what it did to Lucy, when she'd finally gotten one.

At first, he attributed it to the almost-eight years she'd lost in her life fighting the war. People were entitled to a little R&R, right? A little stupidity, even? A little bullshit? Sure, it made sense... But after a point, he wasn't so sure if that was it.

Something about Facebook seemed to unleash her inner preppie. It began with just saying "lol" every once in a while – not too bad, though it did send a shiver up Desmond's spine every time he saw it. Then, she began writing in full-on web speak, especially if she was talking to Gary – a typical conversation between the two of them consisted of something like: "good mornin babe luv u" and then, "hey honey, see u after work!" to which he'd reply, "kewl". Desmond would then gag into his breakfast cereal.

But it didn't stop there. Soon, she began replacing words like "too" with "2". Then, she began double-typing vowels. Then every sentence had to end with a thousand punctuation marks. Then, every post had to contain a random number of punctuation marks combined with a random number of smilies – and not the smilies provided by Facebook, but the text smilies, like, ":)" and "XD" and ":P". Reading one of her posts eventually gave him a headache.

Some part of him knew he was being a stuck-up snob about it, and he probably looked a little dorky with his (attempted) proper grammar and punctuation, but he didn't care as much as he likely should have about it.

He was eventually convinced to get a Facebook when he found out even his parents were using it to talk to each other, although it was thankfully not in public. And that was another thing about Facebook he hated: it seemed to rob people of any want for privacy or sense of what's appropriate to share with the rest of the world. It was again Lucy who showed this the clearest to him. Nobody he'd ever known had been more private about their life and their affairs than Lucy. He didn't know Gary at all from before this, but he was pretty sure prior to Facebook, neither of them would be publishing their heavy flirting and talking dirty to each other on the site. Reading some of the conversations was beyond the point of hurting Desmond – it was just disgusting. They talked about places they wanted to try ("how doz a dark movee theater sound babe?!"; "soouunds hoot!"), ways they wanted to try it ("upsiide down!?3"; "aanyytiimee! 3333"), and reminisced about past experiences with each other ("remember our 2nd time!?"; "wee weeree sooooooooo druunk...!").

The day this was posted, Desmond was sitting in the restaurant built into the Headquarters, somewhere around four o'clock in the morning. The ladies behind the counter were gibbering about something or other, and giggling between each other, and showing each other their phones every once in a while. It was something of a comforting sound, and it relieved the buzzing in the back of his own head. The sounds in the kitchen of the glass clinking and food cooking only added to the comfort.

He sighed, set the phone down, and folded his arms across his chest. It was safe here. There was no way Lucy would be down to eat anytime soon. In fact, if her posts on Facebook were to be believed, she was still out with Gary, and if that was true, she'd head to bed as soon as they got back. He shook his head as he suddenly imagined the two of them going to bed together.

Why? Why does this bother me so much? he asked himself. It's not like there was... well, much to indicate a relationship. We were just pushed together in some bad circumstances. We comforted each other during some hard times. It wasn't anything enough to cause all this pain.

He knew he was kidding himself, though. That's how it sometimes seemed Lucy tried to make it out to be like.

If only she hadn't been so... nice about it, so affectionate.

His mind flashed back to a night in the Villa, when he'd been up and around because of the pain in his head. She'd sat with him on his sleeping bag, and stroked him behind his ear. She'd laid there with him, her head on his shoulder, trying not to fall asleep because it would look unprofessional. He'd known that was what she was worried about, and it had brought a smile to his face in spite of the throbbing pain in his head, as he'd decided to risk putting a hand on her back.

It had worked. She'd closed her eyes and gone to sleep. And eventually, he had, too.

He wondered if that had been what set Rebecca off against him sooo hard...

"Desmond?"

He shook his head. That had been his name, right?

"Right here, son."

"Son"... That meant it was his dad. He turned his head up.

There was William coming towards him, with Lila, the new receptionist for the Animus Team at the Headquarters in tow.

Desmond stood. "Hi, dad."

William seemed insistent on hugging Desmond these days, about which Desmond had no serious complaints – and so they did.

"Looking for me for something?" asked Desmond.

"No, I was just... thinking about getting a little breakfast. And Lila, here, hasn't eaten, so... I figured I'd show her what they can do in the kitchen." He turned his head to the waitress that had hastily approached her boss. "I'll have the usual. Lila?"

"Um... I'll have some eggs and hash browns, please."

"And to drink?"

"Oh... some of that tea looks good," replied Lila, looking at the glass on the table by Desmond's leg.

She then turned to Desmond, whom she seemed to have just noticed, and smiled. He grinned back.

"Hot or cold?"

"Whatever he's having."

"Coming right up."

She started to leave.

But with this new – and encouraging – attention from a female, even though it wasn't Lucy, Desmond made a snap decision. "Uh... just a sec," he said, gesturing her back with two fingers. "I'll have something, too." He picked up the menu and browsed it for about half a second. His eyes fell on the omelet. "Omelet sounds good." With a smile, he handed the menu back. "And sorry, I don't often use that, I just..." he looked around appreciatively at the room, "come to get away."

The waitress smiled. "No problem, Mr. Miles. I'll probably be back with your omelet first."

He nodded, and sat back down.

"Mind if we join you?" asked William, indicating the seat in front of him.

"No, no," said Desmond, almost too quickly in his eagerness for a little company. "Go ahead."

William and Lila took a seat.

"Now..." said William, turning to Lila, "...introductions. Lila, this is my son, Desmond."

Automatically, both Desmond and Lila reached across the table and shook hands.

"Hi."

"Hello, sir."

He shook his head. "Please. Not 'sir'."

She laughed lightly. "Okay, sorry. Would you prefer 'Mr. Miles', or 'Desmond'?"

"How about, 'slacker', courtesy of my old man, here?" joked Desmond, taking a drink from his glass of tea.

"Oh, whatever," answered William, waving a hand in Desmond's direction. "Please... You were still the best of the kids on the Farm."

This actually took Desmond by surprise.

He cocked his head to the side. "Really?"

"Easily," said William. "Thank you, Amber."

The waitress had just returned with their drinks. She set a coffee down by William and another glass of tea down by Lila. It was heated, just as Desmond had ordered it himself when he'd arrived about a half hour ago.

"You're welcome, Bill." She pointed to Desmond. "I'll be right back with your omelet."

He nodded, mostly to her back as she walked away.

But he wanted to know more about how his father had thought of him. "So... how was I the easiest? You always said I was up the latest in the morning, and took the longest to learn everything."

"Mmm," said William through his coffee mug that was pouring the drink into his mouth. When he was done drinking, he took a deep breath."Yes, but you were also the quietest. Far less whiny about it. We all thought the other kids would run away first..."

Something of an awkward silence fell between them, as it had whenever this had been brought up. Desmond looked down at his glass of tea, which he had just wrapped both of his hands around, and William stared out the window at the busy night streets.

Lila was the first to break it. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not excited that it took so long to get you back. I mean... you have been a great addition to the team. But still, it must've been exciting, at least a little."

Desmond nodded. "At times, it was. I wondered that first night if I was going to die, but when I ran into some girls that took me to Chicago, it got a lot better."

"Oooh..." said Lila, widening her eyes at the tablecloth.

Desmond chuckled. "No. No, it wasn't like THAT. Not yet, anyway..."

"I'm curious," said William, leaning forward on the palm of his hand, "when DID you become such a sex hound?"

Desmond raised his eyebrows and took a drink of tea. "Probably at the bar. I mean, yeah, I had sex before that, it's just– oh, sorry, Lila."

He'd seen out of the corner of his eye that she ducked her head and blushed at her tea.

"It's fine, it's fine," she insisted.

"Oh, no it's not," said William. He reached down into a bag and pulled an envelope out of it. "It's unprofessional."

"Yeah, my mistake," said Desmond holding up a hand. "I'm sorry."

Behind William's back, her head angled downward and one hand pulling a pair of glasses out of her shirt front pocket, she smiled at her drink.

As William began to walk her through some complicated paperwork, Desmond smiled at his, as well.

The encounter with Lila put Desmond in a friendly mood for the majority of the day. He was almost skipping down the hall to the food court in which he always passed through to get to the gym for his prescribed workouts close to the end of the day. He came into the locker room half-humming, half-singing a song he hadn't heard for a while.

"I wake up... and tear drops... they fall down like rain. I put on... that old song... we danced to, and then... I head off... to my job... 'cause not much... has changed. Punch the clock. Head for home. Check the phone... just in case. Go to bed. Dream of you. That's what I'm doing these days."

"Are you alright, mate?" came the voice of Shaun from behind him.

"Yep. Sure am," replied Desmond, ruffling Shaun's hair as he passed.

He heard Shaun's annoyed sigh as he sat down on the bench to put his socks on.

"Well... that's good. Haven't seen you in a while..."

"Yeah, I know. I was going to go to that bar with you guys last Thursday, but..." he shrugged, "never got the invite."

Shaun sighed. "Yeah. Well, listen... I've decided to take over on that. We're all going to see a 3D showing of Titanic next week. Can you come?"

Desmond blinked twice. "Titanic?"

Shaun nodded and began putting on his own socks. "Lucy's choice." He eyed Desmond carefully. "Gary's never seen it, so she's decided to rectify that."

A sudden knot caught Desmond in the very center of his chest. The grin faded from his face and was replaced by hard indifference – the very thing he'd had to be so frequently those last couple of weeks.

"I..." he started out, but he couldn't say anything. "Look... Shaun... I, uh..." He looked at the ceiling and sighed. "Let me get back to you on that. How soon do you need to know?"

"That's what I thought," said Shaun as he finished tying the knot on his shoe. "I'll need to know by Wednesday of next week."

Shaun stood and head for the door. Desmond nodded, and waved after him. He suddenly didn't feel like working out...

But he did it. He probably could've easily gotten out of it, given his position, but he decided not to.

But Gary was, of course, there. He didn't seem to notice Desmond's mood anymore than he usually had. He smiled, he waved... And Desmond remembered his promise to Lucy, and smiled and waved back. Now more than ever he wanted to strangle the bastard.

But then, he suddenly thought that maybe he shouldn't blame Gary so much. After all, it wasn't really Gary's fault, was it? It was Lucy's. As much as he'd not wanted to admit it, or even see it that way to begin with, there was just no other way to look at it: it was Lucy.

Lucy was the one who'd brought him around and introduced him to everyone. Lucy was the one who'd flaunted their relationship so frequently in the public's eye. Lucy couldn't go for a second without hugging and kissing him. And then, there was the incident from last week, when she'd suddenly attacked him in the lounge and William had had to order them upstairs. That had been so blatantly-ridiculous, Desmond had almost wondered even then if she was putting it on. She would never have done so usually, but she was different now, that was for sure.

These thoughts kept Desmond steady all the way through his workouts. He gathered his things and left the locker room far before everyone else... before Gary could catch up with him.

His efforts turned out to be in vain, however, because just outside the locker rooms, most of the women were already waiting.

"Desmond!"

He just about stomped his foot. But he figured that wouldn't do him any favors. So he turned and greeted Lucy with the same false smile he usually did.

"Hey, Luce. What's going on?"

"Not a whole lot," she said, approaching him and hugging him. "I'm shocked, usually the guys' workouts get out faster."

Desmond shrugged. "What can I say? It's more intense for us."

Lucy ran something of an appraising eye over him. "I can see that."

Immediately, he became more self-conscious. "Oh, you know what I mean."

She laughed at his obvious nervousness. "Well, anyway... it seems to be helping Gary out. He has a lot of physical struggles. He's actually a bit older than I am, you know..."

Desmond's eyes had narrowed just the slightest bit. "No, I didn't know that."

"Well, now you do," came the cheerful voice of Gary. He walked right up to Lucy, put his arms around her, and kissed her. "Had a good workout, babe?"

She smiled and nodded back to him. "Yeah. You?"

"Definitely." He turned to Desmond and reached out and punched his lightly in the gut. "You shoulda seen this big man over here... He was really going at it. Left in a hurry, too. Got plans, Des?"

Desmond clenched the fist he had wrapped around his bags together. "No, not really," he said abruptly.

"Hey, speaking of plans..." said Lucy, "it's a good thing you said that. Are you too busy next week to come with us to see a movie? In case, you know, Rebecca 'forgets'..."

She made an air quote.

Desmond's lip shook slightly. "Uh... I already heard about it from Shaun. I might be there."

"That would be awesome!" exclaimed Gary. "We're going to see Titanic in 3D, 'cause I've never seen it. Come to think of it, never seen a movie in 3D at all, really."

"Can you believe that?" asked Lucy incredulously. "Never seen Titanic... Just... wow."

"It'll, uh... it'll be an experience," said Desmond sadly. "The first time I saw it was... on a date, too."

"Liked it? The movie, I mean," asked Gary.

Desmond nodded somewhat forcefully. "Yeah... I do. Good movie."

"Uh oh," said Gary, quieting his tone. "Doesn't look like something you've got good memories with."

"Well..." said Desmond, inwardly cursing that the one time Gary would take notice of his mood would be now, "it's kinda... more about the idea of going to see it again. I don't know, it just sounds like it might be mildly depressing."

Lucy's smile dropped. "Oh... Would you rather we go see something else?"

Desmond waved a hand. "No. No, don't do that. If I decide I can't handle it, I won't go. Gotta, um... give Gary a chance to see it." He looked over his shoulder. "Listen, I'm tired. I'm gonna go and get some rest, okay?"

Lucy again stepped forward and hugged him. "Okay. Let us know if you're coming, alright?"

"Yeah..." he said, leaving a kiss on top of her head. "Sure. I-I'll see you later, Luce."

"Alright," she said softly and stepped back away from him.

Back to Gary.

Desmond smiled, and turned abruptly, and left.

The entire way up to his room, he struggled to maintain some slight composure. He wanted to hit everyone he passed. The elevator ride up to his room was the worst part, by far. There were two guys behind him, and as if the situation with Lucy weren't enough to make him lonely, they were both talking about where they planned to take their girlfriends for their third and fifth anniversaries, respectively.

When he reached his room, he stumbled through the door and fell right onto the bed. The sweat was running off his forehead and into the sheets. He sighed, partly with relief and partly with barely-contained sadness and frustration.

When the war had first ended, and Desmond had finally admitted to himself that he felt... something for Lucy, he'd had a plan in mind.

Another night at the Villa, when he'd woken up, he'd found her sitting on the stone railing by the door. He'd gone to sit with her and talk to her, and to cheer her up, he'd started talking about some movies he liked. Comedies, specifically. Forgetting Sarah Marshall and When In Rome, for example. Both great movies, and she'd never seen either of them.

Somehow, the conversation had steered towards romantic movies, and one of her favorite movies was, apparently, Titanic. Coincidentally, it was also one of his.

So, when he'd first seen on (ironically) Facebook it was coming back to theaters in 3D again, he'd planned to take Lucy. Under the guise of just being good friends who happened to enjoy the movie, of course.

And he'd really been looking forward to that, for more reasons than one. As the weariness took him and sleep came to him, he couldn't help imagining himself going to the movie with Lucy. With just himself and Lucy.

As the time crept closer and closer to see the movie, Desmond was still undecided. Fortunately, though, nobody except Shaun seemed to have cottoned on to the reason why. Nobody except Shaun really seemed to care, either. Desmond found a new appreciation for the Brit when, on the Monday preceding the movie, he was joined at lunch by him.

"Hey."

Desmond, who had been leaning forward with his forehead protected in his arms, looked up. It was Shaun, something he hadn't expected. He straightened up.

"Oh... Hi, Shaun. What's up?"

"Oh, don't worry about it," replied Shaun in a low voice, sliding into the chair catty-cornered from Desmond. "You don't have to pretend everything's alright with me."

"Thanks..." sighed Desmond with genuine relief, "...'cause it's not."

"I figured," said Shaun, wasting no time in unwrapping his sandwich and taking a bite. "You're never around, and whenever you are, you always look terribly stressed, and run down... I thought at first it might just be Rebecca, but then I noticed it got worse when Lucy introduced Gary."

Desmond smiled. "Caught that, did ya?"

"Of course," said Shaun with his mouth full and a slight shrug. "I'm the smartest person you know, weren't you aware?"

"Well, there WERE those puzzles with Subject 16... I guess that kinda clued me in..."

"Mmm. Funny you should mention him." Shaun's eyes diverted momentarily to the window as he took a drink from his water bottle. "I was just wondering yesterday afternoon, what would it be like if he was here?"

"Yeah... or Daniel Cross..." said Desmond thoughtfully.

"Right. How fucked would everything be right about now? I mean, Lucy... if you think she's bad about Gary, the emails she was sending Rebecca and I the whole time Subject 16 was there... Jesus, sometimes I just wanted to write back and say, 'Either suck his dick, or get a life!'."

Desmond's eyes widened at first, and then fell to the table as the feeling of jealousy from even that long-gone, and merely only implied, relationship between Lucy and another male registered in his thoughts.

Shaun caught this, as well. "Oh... Sorry, mate."

Desmond shook his head and made a movement with his fingers while his hand was wrapped around the base of his own water bottle. "It's okay."

He looked up and over to the table where Lucy was sitting, and just stared...

She was so beautiful, even next to him. There was a window right behind her. The faint, orange sunlight was falling on her, making her hair glow, particularly around the tips of it. She was laughing as Gary accidentally knocked her water over. She reached around, in something of a frenzy Desmond could only see as cute coming from her usually well-ordered form, for a napkin to use to clean it up.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion for him for a moment. Her big, blue eyes opened, and narrowed with her happiness. Her lips moved to form the words, "That's okay" as she turned to Gary. Her chest rose and fell with her light, joyful laughter...

In his trance, Desmond's lips turned up in a faint smile.

He heard Shaun's voice, speaking softly from beside him. "Oh, Desmond..."

Eyes still fixed on Lucy, his smile grew a bit wider.

He suddenly realized, as he turned back to Shaun, that he was shedding a few tears. Shaun handed him a napkin, as well.

"She's using one, too, right now," he said comfortingly.

Desmond's heart swelled as he accepted it from his teammate...

...from his friend...

It was almost like a dream when Desmond awoke at the feeling of something pressing lightly down on him. He jumped up a bit, too muddled by the bizarre mixture of good feelings and painful feelings caused by his memories, and found that it was just Lucy.

She jumped back a bit when she saw him move into the upright position so quickly. "Whoa!"

He panted a bit.

"Oh..." he finally said. "Hi, Luce. I'm sorry, did I scare you?"

"A little bit," she answered cautiously. She was regarding him with a hint of suspicion. "Are you alright?"

"Am I alright?" he questioned, head cocked to the side slightly.

"Yeah. You were muttering something about Shaun."

Desmond inhaled sharply. "Yeah, I must've been dreaming about him. Or, well, dreaming some old memories and he was in them."

"Memories?" repeated Lucy, taking a seat by his feet on the couch.

"Yeah. I... I was remembering a day, when... I was... watching you at lunch, back in the Headquarters."

Lucy seemed slightly confused. She blinked twice.

Desmond grinned, recognizing that as a mannerism she'd picked up from him. "I used to do that sometimes. Watch you at lunch." He turned to smile out the window beside him. "Okay, well, it was actually almost everyday, but who's counting...?"

It was dark out. His smile disappeared as he wondered how long he'd been asleep, and left her alone. He didn't even have work, what was he doing sleeping? He didn't get to see her much, as it was.

He turned to her. "How long have I– "

But at that moment, her hand came to rest on his knee. His eyes fell on it, initially, but then gradually made their way up to her face.

She was looking at him with glassy eyes and a slightly-trembling lip. He looked down again, for a moment, and then reached out and put his hand on hers.

After that, she crawled forward into his arms and kissed him, again letting her tears fall down her cheeks and mesh with their connected lips.

And Desmond was suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The feel of her body pressed up against his. Her lips on his. Her hands on his neck. Her back underneath his hands. This was something he'd never gotten to do back then, in the times he'd been dreaming of.

He'd wanted to...

Oh, how he'd wanted to...

But he couldn't. She was Gary's back then. She'd given herself to another man to hold, and to love... and to kiss...

And now... suddenly... he could. And he couldn't believe how lucky he was, after all that that he'd been through. After all they'd both been through...

And he was suddenly determined he would not waste this. He would not lose her now. He would find a way, no matter what it took, to make her happy with him... to make them happy with each other.

She pushed a little on him, wanting him to lie back on the couch. He gave, but pulled her with him. Their lips continued to move together, creating a blissful, perfect sensation for both of them as they simply enjoyed one another.

"I love you," he whispered to her at one point for a few brief moments as their night together progressed in which she had kissed other parts of him.

She stopped, and looked back to him. "I love you, too," she whispered back.