"A kiss can be a comma, a question mark or an exclamation point. That's basic spelling that every woman ought to know." -Mistinguett (Jeanne Bourgeois), Theatre Arts, December 1955

-o-

Jacqueline was sitting on the roof of the manor, looking out over the forest, when Achilles called up to her from the front door. "Keep an eye out, girl. We're going to have a guest soon."

"A guest?" She crawled to the edge of the roof and looked down, but he was gone. "Who?"

Several minutes passed while she waited for their guest. In the meantime she contemplated the person who was following her. Instinct told her to believe what she could see with her eyes, but she didn't want to. It really just wasn't possible. Or she wanted to believe it wasn't possible. But that apple she could hold in her hand, palpable and real, was enough to prove hallucinations otherwise. The fish was perhaps the most telling clue that she wasn't losing her mind, however. The fish. But now they were bold, coming to the Homestead; it was only a matter of time until she was confronted. And when that happened, she didn't know what she would do.

A man on a speckled horse rode up to the manor. He had thinning brown hair and paunch features. Jacqueline watched him approach the house and knock on the door, without an answer. She climbed down some way, then jumped and landed almost in front of him.

"Oh!" He exclaimed and laughed. "You must be the dashing young lady Jacqueline. I've heard good things, my dear."

"Thank you. Who are you?"

"Benjamin Tallmadge, at your service. Don't worry; my father was an Assassin, no need for all that cloak and dagger that your kind is so fond of. May I?" He gestured to the door.

"Yes, come in." Jacqueline racked her mind for etiquette. "Would you like some tea? Achilles should be up shortly."

"That would be wonderful, thank you." Benjamin looked around the dining room as she tried to remember how tea was made. "Where's your colleague, that tall fellow?"

"Connor? He's in the basement, I believe, with Achilles." She put the kettle on and sat up on the huge kitchen table. "They're probably arguing."

Bisou trotted into the kitchen, her tongue lolling happily, and sat in front of Benjamin. "Ah. Hello there." He awkwardly tapped her head.

Jacqueline whistled and the hound magnetised to her master. "Don't bother people, Sou." She tossed the dog a piece of meat from the table. "Get out of here." And Bisou obediently left the premises.

"I don't believe I've seen a female Assassin yet." Benjamin noted, his tone that of small talk.

"We're a rare breed."

"I mean no disrespect, of course!" He waved his hands with a nervous laugh. "I'm sure you could easily overpower half the men of the Colonies, myself included."

"You overestimate me." She observed lightly. "You attempt to overcompensate for my gender by being kind to me and yet you remain uncomfortable. It would not be an issue if I was male, but alas I am not. I would prefer if you did not give me any special treatment because I'm a woman."

"Ah…" He struggled for words. "Er, well put, I should say. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"Not at all." Jacqueline beamed and hopped off the table to pour the tea into little ceramic cups. "Simply clarifying."

He blinked in confusion and accepted the tea. "I can see Connor has his hands full with you."

"What do you mean?" Jacqueline cut open an orange and squeezed it into her tea, getting a perturbed look from Benjamin.

"Oh, well, the word around the sewing circle is you two are nearly inseparable. Bold women are so often tricky to handle, he has his work cut out for him on both fronts." He chuckled kindly.

"Both fronts? I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You know. On the battlefield and…well, the battlefield."

Jacqueline understood his tone of voice immediately and blushed. "You misunderstand, we're not…"

Achilles hobbled into the kitchen with a mischievous smirk on his weathered mahogany face, and stooped to pour himself a cup of tea. Jacqueline quickly intercepted to help him, and Connor came storming up the stairs a moment later. "Or you could just admit that you were wrong."

Their mentor chuckled and shook his head. "Oh child, please. You've killed two men—one more salesman than soldier. You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that to impress me. Thank you." He added to Jacqueline, and shuffled into the dining room.

"Is that so, old man?" Connor demanded, following. "Or perhaps we should step outside? I would gladly demonstrate how easily I could trounce y…"

He trailed off in embarrassment when he saw Benjamin was there. Jacqueline hid her grin behind her tea. "Connor, this is Benjamin Tallmadge. His father was one of us, no need for secrecy. I think he has something he wants to say." Achilles spoke almost as though to a child.

"Achilles tells me you've uncovered a plot to murder the Commander in Chief." Benjamin began.

"Yes. But I have only false starts and dead ends to show for it." Connor had put on his "mysterious assassin" persona despite Achilles' assurance that he was to be trusted.

"Not anymore, my friend. Thomas Hickey's your man, and I aim to help you catch him." Tallmadge set aside his tea and approached Connor to set a hand on his shoulder. The look Connor gave that hand made Jacqueline choke on her drink with laughter.

"How?"

"I'll explain on the way. The three of us are going to New York."

-o-

It was a fast journey to the city, and they arrived by boat only the next day. A bit of walking led them to a few horses that had been left for their use. The day was foggy and mild. They were outside the city somewhat, and would have to ride into town; they mounted their horses and set off at a canter.

"So what is your stake in all this?" Connor called ahead to their comrade.

"Same as yours—peace. Stability. A land in which all might live side-by-side, free and equal." Benjamin answered over his shoulder.

"Why not join the Brotherhood, then?"

"My father was an Assassin. Quite good at his job, too, from what I understand. But…I hope to have children some day. It's hard to live in two worlds at the same time. So I chose to live in one."

"I understand." Connor said, though how he could understand that point of view, Jacqueline had to wonder. Else he was just saying it because he didn't know what else to say because of his profound lack of experience in that field.

"I still contribute as best I can. That's why we're here now."

New York was quickly coming up on them. The rural area outside the main city had a tendency to suddenly disappear and give way to the buildings. After turning a couple corners of worn dirt road, they were on the main road through New York. To Jacqueline, it looked remarkably like Boston except for a few small differences.

"What do you know of Hickey?" She asked.

"He runs a counterfeiting ring in the city. Locate the source of this operation, and we can have him arrested. He cannot harm the Commander if he's in prison."

Their path led through a crowded market, and they had to slow their pace to avoid running people down. "Where is he?"

"I'm not exactly sure. But I do know where we can begin the search."

He led them down the road through the market, and eventually turned down a small side street. It was too small for their horses, so they left the mounts outside the alley and continued on foot. "There are rumours of bad bills being circulated here." Benjamin informed them. "No doubt they came from Thomas."

A commotion in a stall nearby caught their attention. "What're you up to?" The merchant snapped. "This isn't money! It's coloured paper! You've cheated me for the last time. Guards!" He threw the papers down at the feet of the man who was trying to buy, who quickly grabbed them up and hurried away.

"We need to follow him. Quickly, before he's gone." Jacqueline urged Connor on, and they began to tail the counterfeiter.

The path of the shady man led in a winding path around the city. It was a route that wound through the back streets and little garden courtyards in the centre of houses that were clutched together. He was a paranoid one, always looking over his shoulder and walking quickly. The bustling crowds helped conceal the Assassins while crossing the street, but in the alleys there was nothing for it but subterfuge. It took a long time; his destination was nearly across the city. At one point things got confused and sketchy due to a guard catching him and shaking him down, making the criminal double back the way he had come.

There was a moment where Jacqueline was struck by a bolt of nostalgia. She peeked around the corner to check on their mark, and found that he had stopped to suspiciously look back. Connor went charging on around the corner, and though she pulled him back, the counterfeiter must have caught a glimpse, for footsteps approached.

"Just like old times." She fell back against the wall she had peered around and pulled Connor against her.

"What are you…?" He started.

"Quickly or we'll be seen." She whispered and tugged him down into an embrace, but even that didn't quite work.

"Oi! Who's back there?" Their quarry called back. "Show yourself!"

Just after that fateful warning, as the footsteps approached ever quicker with paranoid worry, their eyes locked. It was a sort of silent, mutual realisation; for a moment, just a fraction of a second no quicker than the beat of her heart, she almost felt she could read Connor's mind, and what she read there was a last resort. There was that brief, ever so brief hesitation during which she took in a short, anticipatory breath. Then, to honor their essentially psychic agreement, Connor bowed his head and softly kissed her.

"Hrm. Sorry, then. My mistake." The counterfeiter grumbled, and walked away from them. "Bloody kids…"

It was clear neither of them were listening, however. Any preoccupied thoughts Jacqueline might have had about tailing this man or killing him had been instantly wiped clean. It felt more like her entire body had gone up in a flash of fire, and there left only a burnt out cinder on earth. Distantly she could feel Connor's hand behind her head and his other pressed flat against the small of her back to pull her closer and away from the wall. Her own fingers clutched at his shoulders, like they had suddenly become little worms with minds of their own.

They broke apart for a moment and reconnected just as quickly. Connor kissed her with something close to hunger, a man deprived of sustenance for too long and now had a banquet laid out before him. It left her breathless just trying to compete with his level of…enthusiasm. She felt the cool slip of his tongue graze the scar on her mouth.

Jacqueline pulled back from surprise, but also for air. When she looked up at him, Connor seemed just as dazed, if not more so. "Right," She said lightly, almost chipper. "Well, ah…we should…probably keep moving, or we'll lose him."

She gently squirmed away from his hold on her, and it took him a few extra seconds for his brain to apparently kick-start back into an operational state. Luckily for them, their prey didn't have much further to go after that. He stopped to converse with another member of his lucrative business for a spell in a similar courtyard not far off, and they listened in on the conversation until the men took separate paths, and now their new target was the other man.

This one was definitely more paranoid. He checked over his shoulder even more often, and it took all the skills she knew not to be spotted. The way that she and Connor tailed people when they were together was something they had down to something of a science. One would take the roofs, the other the streets. If something happened to hinder one or the other—guards on the roof, a firing line in the street—the compromised party would join the other. It was just random happenstance that they both were on ground level in that little grassy courtyard.

He cut a path through half the city on his way to Hickey's hideout. Through gardens and across streets and around tight corners he turned, finally meeting up with another compatriot just before entering a tiny brick building.

The Assassins relaxed from their hiding spots and approached the door. Jacqueline considered picking it, briefly, but that thought was promptly cut off when Connor charged forward and bashed the door in. Inside, a small collection of men were hunched over a table, Hickey among them. This latter looked up a frowned.

"Was' this?" He asked. His voice was like a constant drunken slur, even though he was likely sober.

"Thomas Hickey?" Connor asked.

"Might be. What's it to ya?"

Connor flicked out his hidden blade and spun it from its sheathe so he could hold it like a dagger. Jacqueline drew her sword and held it toward the ground.

"Ain't supposed to be none of your kind left." Hickey observed, stepping back. "Suppose I'd best be rectifyin' that, then. Get 'em!" He shoved one of the other men toward the pair and sprinted out the back door with a bag of faux money in his hand.

Jacqueline quickly dispatched the unfortunate guard with a cut across the chest. Connor completely ignored that and dove out the window, shattering glass into the street. She followed him a beat later after rolling her eyes, and found that all three of them had stumbled right into the arms of the law.

"There's more of 'em!" One of the guards cried. His partner held Hickey by his lapels. "Grab 'em!"

In the ensuing chaos, all Jacqueline could recall was a lot of running. A lot of running. Running from guards, running after Hickey and by extent running after Connor, running across busy streets and running into people, running out of breath and running into walls, thoughts of the kiss running through her head until finally she ran into Connor, who had finally caught Hickey. It was almost over, then.

"Be still! You will do no more harm." Connor shoved Hickey into a wall, lifting him slightly so his feet hovered just above the ground.

"You're a right fool meddlin' in affairs ya know nothing about. You and the French bitch." He nodded back to Jacqueline with a sneer.

Connor pulled him back and slammed him back against the brick with surprising force. "Washington's the only thing keeping the Continental Army together. You kill him, and you end all hope for freedom."

"Wrong, boy-o. Wit 'im gone, they'd have no choice but to promote Lee. And then—"

Before he could finish whatever scheme he'd been cooking, an enforcer of the law grabbed both Hickey and Connor and pulled them apart. Another officer grabbed Jacqueline as though she would run off. "You are all under arrest!"

"Uh, we were just havin' a scrap, officers. Ain't nothin' wrong with two men settlin' their differences the old fashioned way. Can't we come to a—"

"Quiet!" Connor bellowed, then turned to the officer holding him. "What are the charges?"

"Counterfeiting!" Another soldier approached them with the bag of fake money in his hands.

"We had nothing to do with that!" Jacqueline protested.

"'Course not." He nodded sarcastically.

"Listen, there are more important things at stake here, this man is planning to—agh!" The first officer cracked Connor upside the head and he promptly fell face first into the dirt.

"Connor!" Jacqueline exclaimed, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

"And don't go gettin' any ideas, missy. You're headin' off to jail same as the rest of 'em." The blue-coated man waved his baton at her.

For a moment she considered resisting. But then she would be in even worse trouble, and what was she supposed to do about Connor, now unconscious? So with great reluctance, she hung her head as she, Hickey, and Connor were carted away to prison.

-o-

-Bloody hell you guys like Thomas.

-FINALLY, am I right? Man, I had you guys going there. I hope this didn't feel too, I don't know, sudden? This is actually a plot point (sorta kinda) and it had to happen before the events of the next couple chapters took place.

-I swear his name is Connor Don't-Fucking-Touch-Me-(Unless-You're-Jacqueline)-Or-I'll-Kick-Your-Ass-Stay-The-Fuck-Away-From-Me Kenway

-Review because I finally gave you greedy bastards a kiss.