Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft

italics = Mohawk being spoken

Haytham had peeked into the kitchen, seeing Ziio's mother and grandmother in there, decided that he didn't want to be caught up in the commotion and quickly scuttled back to the couch. Deadliest Catch was playing on the TV and Haytham snuggled up close to his father. "Ya looked spooked, sea urchin," Edward said. Haytham frowned.

"Must you call me that? Especially with Ziio and her family being here," Haytham asked. Edward chuckled.

"Forgot, ya have an image to keep now that your little girlfriend is here."

"Ziio isn't my girlfriend, Father!" Haytham hissed, glancing over at the kitchen when he heard Ziio's voice shout something in Mohawk. "She's a girl that happens to my friend."

"Right, right," Edward mumbled, patting his son on the back. Haytham huffed, trying to ignore his father's comment. The couch jerked and Ziio's face suddenly appeared.

"Hey Haytham," she drawled. He eyed her.

"Yes?"

"Where are the pots and pans?" she asked. He opened his mouth about to tell her when she said, "I need you to show me. C'mon." She slipped off the back of the couch and trotted to the kitchen. Haytham glanced at his father, and Edward jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. Haytham sighed, getting up and walking towards Ziio.

Haytham was surprised that his small kitchen could fit two grown women. Ziio's mother and grandmother talked loudly in Mohawk, while Ziio's mother washed chicken breasts. "Have you ever cooked before?" Ziio asked, pulling on a little apron. There were two stick figures: one with grey hair and the other with black hair and the words Grandma's Best Helper stitched into it.

"I've made cereal," Haytham said, "Father does most of the cooking, unless Aunt Mary or Aunt Anne is watching me."

Ziio gave a big sigh. "Alright, rule one, you must wash your hands. Rule two, no sneezing on the food or picking your nose or being gross in general and if you must cough do it into your elbow; your hair's already pulled back so that's good. Three don't use the same spoon for taste-testing, get a new one or wash it. And four, Mama and Grandma are the only ones allowed to use the knives. Got it?"

"Uh… yeah," Haytham said.

"Good, go wash your hands then I need your help in getting the pots and pans out, and the cutting boards," Ziio said. Haytham gave himself a little shake before he went to the sink to wash his hands. Once he was done, he showed Ziio where they kept the pots and pans and cutting boards. Even getting out the heavy meat tenderizer. He showed Ziio where the glass bowls were kept and she pulled out eggs while she sent him to get flour. In no time at all they had three bowls set up, one filled with flour, another with beaten eggs and the last one was bread crumbs.

Haytham wasn't sure if he liked Ziio's mother and grandmother or not. Both women smiled at him kindly, though he felt that Ziio's mother gave him more of an appraising look as if he was a horse at market. He got the impression from Ziio's grandmother too, but she seemed to like him, since she'd wink at him from time to time. She had winked at him recently, and he was pondering what it meant when Ziio rapped her knuckles against his skull.

"Helloooo! Earth to Haytham!" she said.

"Ow, Ziio," he grumbled, rubbing his head. "What?"

"Were you even listening?" she asked.

"Your grandmother keeps winking at me," he stated offhandedly.

"That means she likes you," Ziio chirped. "Also, you haven't run out of the kitchen screaming yet, also a good think."

"Huh?" Haytham stared at her. "Why would I do that?"

"Never mind, now listen! I'm going to be putting the flour and eggs on the chicken, you are gonna bread them and set them on the cookie sheet so Mama can fry them, then we're going to mix the salad dressing and then mold the frybread," Ziio said.

"Uh… okay," Haytham muttered, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up. Ziio began to hum a song as she worked. Haytham watched her, admiring as she deftly covered the chicken in flour and quickly dipped them into the egg. He took the tongs she had picked up the egg-soaked piece of chicken and flipped it over. "Like this Ziio?" he asked, not wanting to redo his first piece of chicken.

"No! Put it back down and cover it with the bread crumbs and gently pat, then you flip it over and do it again," Ziio instructed. Haytham swallowed, sighed and did as he was told. It was a slow process, and Ziio had to intervene to catch them up on their quota. Haytham knew Ziio had a bossy and blunt personality and way of speaking, but the last time he seen her so frightening was when they first met and she was beating up Charles. He'd have to apologize to Charles on Monday for rightfully being afraid of Ziio, after cooking with her.

They had made the salad dressing, well, Ziio made the salad dressing and he just hung back and watch. His father poked his head in to see how everything was going, but Ziio's mother shooed him out of the kitchen. Edward gave his son a sympathetic look before ducking back into the living room. Haytham sighed, watching as Ziio's mother removed a towel from a cookie sheet with tennis ball sized bits of dough. "C'mon Haytham, I'll show you how to flatten the dough for frybread."

"Alright," he mumbled, feeling like something catastrophic would happen. He stood on the step stool besides Ziio's.

"So, this is the easy part," Ziio said, picking up two balls of dough and handing one to Ziio. "All you have to do is smash it into a super thin pancake like disc. Watch," Ziio said and began to pat the dough between her palms, working in a circle and in an easy rhythm. "See easy? Now just set it on the cookie sheet and Grandma will fry them."

"Right," Haytham grumbled and began to pat his dough. It looked easier than it actually was. He somehow managed to get flour in his hair on his face and his clothes, and still hadn't even made it halfway through his little lumps of dough. Clearly Ziio made these things every day or nearly, since she zipped through them quickly, flattening them out in seconds. Ziio finished her last ball of dough and looked at Haytham.

"You haven't even done half of them," Ziio pointed out. He felt his shoulders tense.

"I-I know, I'm working on it," he grumbled.

"Give me some," Ziio said and Haytham handed the rest over, with Ziio helping him they finished the rest quickly. Once they were finished, Ziio's mother told them to clean up and set the table, for it was nearly time to eat. Haytham didn't really feel like eating, he wanted to take a nap, and decided that he'd avoid having to cook when he's older.

Dinner was good, Haytham would have to admit. Even if father enjoyed it, then again Edward always did enjoy a good home-cooked meal. "This is really good," Edward muttered between bites, causing Ziio's mother and grandmother to beam.

"I helped too, Mr. Kenway, so did Haytham," Ziio chimed. "I even made the salad dressing."

"Haytham," Edward said, leveling his fork at his son, "you hold on to her. Not every day you find a woman that's good in the kitchen."

"I agree. Kaneihtí:io, I like this boy. He's kind, respectful and not afraid to get his hands dirty," Ziio's grandmother said.

"Grandma!" Ziio hissed, while her mother frowned.

"What did she say?" Haytham asked, poking his food. Ziio glanced at his plate before looking at him.

"She said you better eat your dinner otherwise you won't get dessert," Ziio said.

"Kaneihtí:io, I didn't say that. Translate it properly," Grandma muttered.

"Now what did she say?" Haytham asked.

"That she'll be very upset if you waste the food she prepared for you," Ziio grumbled. Ziio's grandmother tutted and shook her head, muttering to her daughter in a low voice. Haytham had a funny feeling that what Ziio told him.

They were sitting on the couch that night, watching a Disney movie. Ziio's and grandmother had gone to bed, though Haytham guessed Ziio's mother was one of those late night readers, since he could see a soft glow of a reading lamp coming from the crack between the door and the floor from the guest bedroom. Ziio had gotten the couch.

"I'm sorry you got the couch," Haytham muttered. Ziio shook her head, clutching her battered raccoon plushie.

"It's fine," Ziio said.

"What did your grandma say at dinner?" Haytham asked. Ziio flushed, looking down at her plushie.

"Nothing, don't worry about it. Do you have cookies?" she asked.

"I think so, but Father keeps them up in the really high cupboard," Haytham said. "It's above the fridge."

"C'mon," Ziio said, slipping off the couch. "Prince Eric is stupid in this part," she said, glancing at the TV. Haytham followed her gaze, before shrugging and following her into the kitchen. They both jumped when they heard a snort, turning to look in the direction of it.

"It's okay," Haytham said, "that's just Father."

"Hm," Ziio looked around the kitchen, "where is the… ah-ha!" she grinned when she found it. "Alright, squat down," she ordered.

"Why?"

"Together we can reach it, so squat down," she said.

"I don't think this is a good idea, what if you fall?" Haytham said. "Break your neck and… die." He gave her an imploring look.

"I'm not, now squat," she barked.

"I can wake up Father—"

"Squat, Haytham!" Ziio hissed. Haytham sighed, squatted and Ziio climbed onto his shoulders, grabbing the cabinet in front of her. "Okay, now grab my ankles and slowly stand up," Ziio said. Haytham bit his lip and slowly stood up, holding onto Ziio's ankles tightly. He heard Ziio cackle as she pulled open the cupboard. "Oreos! Yes! Mama never buys Oreos," Ziio said and pulled the package of Oreos out and closed the cupboard. "Okay, now slowly squat down."

Haytham sighed, and did as he was told. Ziio climbed off of him, and waved the bag in front of him. "See, no problem. C'mon," she said and headed back to the couch. "Let's watch Ursula get her butt kicked," Ziio said.

"You'll share those right, Ziio?" Haytham asked. He'd be damned if he let Ziio eat all those cookies.

"Of course, you get part of the plunder," she giggled, as they resumed their seats on the couch. Haytham sighed, but accepted the cookie from her.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"My grandma likes you," Ziio mumbled. Haytham nodded, neither of them watching the movie. "Really likes you."

"Uh…thanks, I guess," Haytham mumbled, turning off the TV when the credits started rolling. Ziio yawned and set the rest of the cookies on the table.

It was the sunlight that woke him. Haytham looked around for a bit before realizing that he was on the couch. He stared at Ziio as she snuggled closer to her and he smiled, resting his head back down on the cushions. Ziio's eyes fluttered opened and she smiled at him. He inched closer and their noses touched. The two kids froze, staring at each other before pulling a part, a blush coloring their cheeks. Haytham watched as Ziio rolled over. "It's too early, nobody else is up," she muttered.

"Yeah… right," Haytham agreed, though he was hyper-aware that she was by his side and unaware that his father had been watching the entire thing and took a picture.

And it's over. Yay.

On to the next adventure! Jenny, squirt guns, the battle for the tree house, bullies, Edward building a treehouse and lots of other stuff.

Special thanks to MohawkWoman for beta duties. ^^ And telling me how frybread is made.

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-Nemo