“With everything you just said, I feel like it’s your way of trying to get me to slide on over onto your lap there.” Lucy smirked down into her glass, cheeks a little rosy coloured from both the alcohol and the response to what he’d laid out.

Most men had responded with the same thing as he just had—the sassiness she possessed, how funny she was and how smart she’d proven herself to be over and over. The only difference was that she’d pushed him to be, essentially, a better person in caring for the world and the outcome in everything they were doing between the Brotherhood and with Abstergo.

“Remember, what if I only cared because the Templars cared? I only thought I was doing the right thing because they believed the same thing.” But the best part about Desmond and being near him was that there weren’t any sides for either of them to pick. He didn’t seem to care about it, only her and them, being together.