I Know You Know (Ch. 4)
Title: I Know You Know (borrowed from a song by the excellent band "Empires," listen to their music here: http://www.weareempires.com/)
Chapter: 4/5
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Disclaimer: All characters and concept (c) Ubisoft
Rating: This Chapter PG-13, overall M
Pairings: Shaun Hastings/Desmond Miles, bits of Ezio Auditore/Leonardo da Vinci, Ezio/Caterina Sforza, Ezio/Laura Boccanera. (Our boy Ezio sure gets around, doesn't he?)
Warnings: Fic contains spoilers for all three main-line games, including DLC. Also contains profanity, violence, and lots and lots of sex, though not until chapter 5. Hey, that's only one chapter away! Unfortunately you probably shouldn't just read the sexy parts because it also contains plot, though what that plot will end up looking like I'm not entirely sure.
Word Count: This Chapter 5021. Overall: 17133
Note: Originally this fic was supposed to be a gigantically long monster of forever. But then I got to chapter five and realized I may have started too soon in the plot. When I re-started it entirely post ACB, the plot elements worked a lot better. So chapter five will the the last for IKYK. But I think I stopped at a good point :)
The girls were waiting in the Villa’s main hall, and when Lucy found out Shaun and Desmond were heading into town she insisted on coming along, obviously still worried. Miles looked to Shaun, who shrugged and said, “Fine, but I’m not picking up the tab.”
Rebecca raised her hand, “Hey, I’m coming too! No way are you all leaving me here to work while you party!”
And that was how four Assassins found themselves walking down the main street of the tiny town of Monteriggioni late at night. Miles led them to the location of the old apothecary shop, which had been refurbished into a cozy taverna. Miles started through the door, but Lucy grabbed his arm. “No. Shaun goes in first.”
“What? Why?” Miles asked.
Shaun sighed. “It’s protocol. I haven’t been active in the field in years, so my face isn’t on the Templars’ radar. You, on the other hand, probably have an APB out on you. And this is the Templars we’re talking about, so it wouldn’t be out of character for them to frame you for murder or terrorism or something, as an excuse to get your face on the evening news and dupe the civilians into helping them. Anyway, I have to go in first and make sure no enemy agents are in there. Technically. Even though we’re in what is basically Assassin Central Station for Italy and southern Europe, and I doubt the Templars would ever want to mess with this place.”
“We have these rules for a reason, Shaun. Now get your ass in there and bring me back a report,” said Lucy.
Miles rolled his eyes. “Guys. I can do the vision thing, remember?”
“Oooh, I’ve always wanted to see that in action!” Rebecca said. “Do it do it!”
“It’s not a bloody party trick, Rebecca,” Shaun pointed out.
She looked sheepish. “Right. Sorry, Dez. Guess I’m just excited to be actually out of the basement.”
“Give me just a second,” Miles pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up and opened the door a crack, poking his head in and looking around like a potential patron checking if the place was still open. “Clear,” he said after a few seconds, and walked on in.
Rebecca was close on his heels, and Lucy went to follow them in, but Shaun held her back. “What the hell?” She snapped, shaking his arm off.
He stepped in close to her, glaring. “You listen to me, Lucy. I know you. You were planning to start interrogating him about what happened in the Sanctuary as soon as we sat down. But don’t you dare. Don’t mention anything about work, actually. He needs to not talk about it right now. You get me?”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you are to give me orders, Contractor Hastings?”
Shaun winced at the jab to his pride, couldn’t help but glance at the bracelet Lucy wore, silver with black stones set into it, marking her as an Assassin with a capital A. The Order of Assassins didn’t just throw recruits into the war untrained, or not usually; Miles was a special case. But most recruits went through a lengthy training process, moving through the ranks from Recruit to Assassin. It took over a year for even the most talented recruit to earn the title, as moving up meant gaining more and more independence in the field. Shaun had been nearly ready to move to the top rank when he was sent to Italy, meaning he was still technically a Contractor, the second-highest rank in the Order, marked as such to other assassins by the silver and green ring he wore on his left index finger.
He shook off the remark. “I’d have been promoted by now if we’d had contact with HQ, and I was recruited years before you, and you know it, so don’t you try pulling rank on me, Lucy. This outing isn’t about us, isn’t about the mission. It’s about Miles, and what he needs right now. We’re the closest thing the poor sod has to friends, and if we can’t be a little human sometimes and set aside protocol and mission priority for the space of one damn drink to save his sanity, then we’re as bad as they are.”
For a second, the specter of Sixteen hung heavy in the air between them, and Lucy’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, Shaun, you’re right. I just…we didn’t get any closer today, and Will’s riding me for results, and Vidic is still out there looking and it just feels like we’re wasting time if we’re not working…but you’re right. You’re right, it’s not wasting time to make sure Desmond is…okay.”
“Damn right it’s not,” Shaun said with a nod, and held the door for her as they went in.
The taverna was about half full with a mixture of tourists and locals. An entirely empty or full establishment would have been more suspicious, sign of a possible ambush, but the activity level seemed pretty normal for an Italian countryside drinking establishment at the end of the wine tourism season. Glancing over the setup of the tables, Shaun and Lucy noticed that Miles had taken the seat with the best view of the whole room, in the corner opposite the door. It was a location that put his back to the wall and gave him a good view of both the front door and the door into the taverna’s kitchen. The assassins exchanged glances as they took seats at the table. When they’d brought Miles to the warehouse, he’d been confused about why all the blinds on the exterior windows had to be kept down. Now it looked like he was casing rooms without even realizing it. But that’s good, Shaun thought as he took the seat next to Miles, across from Rebecca, that’s what we wanted. Without the Animus he would’ve been weeks just getting to the point where he could analyze a room effectively, much less quickly. So why did it feel so…odd to actually see him do it?
The waitress came over to take their drink orders and ask if they wanted anything to eat. She set a plate of antipasti and a bottle sparkling water in the middle of the table before going to give the bartender their order. Rebecca immediately dove in, rolling her eyes in culinary ecstasy. Even late at night, the bread that came with the platter of cheeses, charcuterie, and various spreads was warm and sent up a heavenly smell when they tore chunks off it to slather with hot mustard and layer with provolone, prosciutto, olive tapenade and sorpressata.
Shaun took a huge bite and chewed, slowly, with his eyes shut, letting all the flavors soak into his tastebuds before he swallowed. When he opened his eyes, he saw Miles giving him a weird look. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No, just...you must really like Italian food. That’s the first time I’ve seen you without a frown on your face since we got here.”
Lucy let out a laugh and now it was her turn to receive a shocked look from the newest member of their group. “Oh Des, I keep forgetting you don’t know us outside of work. This guy,” she pointed at Shaun, “has a love affair with all things Italian that is a perpetual theme in conversation.”
Shaun felt his face get hot and quickly took a sip of water to fight off the blush he knew was coming. “Look, I’m a historian, right? So is it any wonder that I enjoy talking about the country that housed the seat of the Roman Empire, one of the greatest civilizations of all time and the first to try not only a bicameral government but also what was basically a constitutional monarchy? And the linguistic ancestor of the romance languages, which comprise a total of 47 if you include dialects? And the most scientifically advanced society within two hundred years on either side of its existence?”
“Oh, don’t you dare try to pull off that ‘entirely academic’ B.S. with us sitting right here!” Rebecca exclaimed. She put on an atrocious fake English accent and mugged, “Oooh, and the beautiful art and the beautiful language and the operatic tradition and the Renaissance masters and the viniculture - ow!” She broke off when Shaun, having failed to fight off his rising blush, gave her a vicious poke in the shoulder.
“Okay, that’s enough about me and the Italians. Anyway, you’re just as bad about computers.”
“Well, yeah, but I can geek out about computers back home in the states. You nearly fell over yourself sucking up to Will to try to get this assignment, don’t pretend you didn’t!”
“Yes, fine, I like Italy, I wanted to come here. Can we please talk about something else?”
“Yes, let’s,” said Lucy. “Like how we’re going to get at that memory.”
“I meant something else that wasn’t work,” Shaun gave Lucy a stern look.
Rebecca nodded emphatically, and Miles, who’d taken on an odd, thoughtful look, joined her. “I agree,” he said. “We need a distraction, just for tonight.”
Lucy looked like it physically pained her to use time for anything other than working, but she nodded acquiescence.
The waitress arrived then with their drinks. Lucy had ordered a beer, Rebecca some kind of fizzy gin concoction, Miles a scotch sour, and Shaun a double pour of straight whiskey on the rocks. Nobody could help noticing the way the girl, who was lovely in that dark European way, gave Miles a look that went right through his clothes. She sashayed away and the girls started giggling. Shaun raised an eyebrow at Miles, who shrugged. “It happens,” he said. “I did inherit some good things from my ancestors.”
Shaun had to bite back the reply that popped into his head. Good things indeed. He’d noticed, it was impossible not to notice, and events had conspired to make living with Miles a personal hell for him. He’d been coming off his…whatever it had been, with Will, when he got the assignment; in fact, it was part of the reason he’d begged so hard to be assigned as team historian, since a few thousand kilometers pretty much guaranteed he wouldn’t be running into his ex at work. So, having become used to having a partner available on a regular basis, he was suddenly rushed into a situation where not only was there no opportunity for sex, there was no time to even think about it and he’d probably have been too tired to perform even if there had been.
But then Abstergo started threatening to do to Miles what they’d done to his unfortunate predecessor, that is, keep him in the Animus without giving him any breaks at all, and Lucy had moved up the extraction timeline, and Shaun had found himself sharing a small loft over a warehouse with the most attractive man he’d ever seen. And what was the first thing that man’s thrice-damned Italian ancestor did? Jump in bed with a woman, that’s what. So after having known the man exactly one day, which was plenty long enough to determine that yes, he would rather like to shag him, Shaun had to sit there and listen to him make the most incredible noises for a good five minutes until Rebecca figured out how to skip past that memory to a more useful, though entirely more boring, one. And then he’d developed the habit of going out into the warehouse and training with no bloody shirt on. And which window was directly next to Shaun’s workstation? Why the one that looked into the warehouse, of course.
And then tonight Miles had actually removed his ubiquitous hoodie, thanks to the warm temperature inside the taverna. Underneath he was wearing some of the clothes the girls had gotten for him after his dip in the Villa’s hidden waterways, a rust-red t-shirt and a pair of black jeans that fit tight in all the right places. Yes that’s right Hastings, fantasize about the man while he’s sitting right bloody there, capital idea. He could feel himself starting to turn even redder. He went for his drink.
“Wait,” said Lucy as the other three raised their glasses to their lips. “Um…I know this is superstitious of me, but when I was growing up it was kind of supposed to be bad luck if you didn’t make a toast on the first sip of your drink.” She looked down at the table, embarrassed. “I know it’s stupid, but if you guys wouldn’t mind…”
“Ah, girl, you don’t have to worry about that! We’ve all got our superstitions,” Rebecca said. She raised her glass, “To what, then?”
Shaun lifted his glass as well, “To our success. What else?” The other three nodded soberly and raised their drinks, meeting in the middle with a soft clink. Then they took their first sips. Shaun made his a long one, breathing in through his nose as he pulled whiskey through his teeth, then letting the air slowly out as the alcohol rolled across his tongue and burned all the way down the back of his throat. “God, I needed that,” he sighed.
Rebecca suddenly got a light in her eyes, a slightly manic look that Shaun had learned to dread. It meant she’d had an idea. Sure enough, she piped up, “Hey, we should totally play a drinking game!”
Miles looked at her like she’d suddenly grown horns, and Lucy’s eyebrows threatened to merge with her hairline. “Really?” she asked, “What is this, a college sorority party? We’re on the freeway to the end of the world with no brakes, and you want to play drinking games?”
Rebecca looked hurt. “Hey, you said yourself that Dezzie doesn’t know us from a rock, right? So, let’s give him a chance to get to know us. And we can find some stuff out about him, too, maybe.” Lucy still looked unsure. Shaun willed her to say no. “Pleeeeeeeeeease?” Rebecca made puppy-dog eyes at Lucy.
Lucy sighed and said, “I feel like I’m going to regret this. All right. What did you have in mind?”
“Two truths and a lie!” Rebecca chirped, bouncing in her seat. The other three gave her blank looks. She looked back in disbelief. “You’re kidding me, you’ve never played two truths and a lie? None of you?” The shook their heads. “Oh wow. You poor deprived little things. Well, I’m here to fix that! Okay, so,” she leaned forward in her seat and held up three fingers. “The rules are simple. Whoever’s turn it is says three facts about his or her self, two truths, one lie. Then the other three have to guess which is the lie, and if they get it wrong they have to drink! And if they get it right the person whose turn it is has to drink. Got it? And remember, nothing about work.”
Nodding, Lucy said, “I was right, I’m definitely going to regret this.”
“Good, then you can go first!” Rebecca grinned evilly.
Lucy sat back in her chair, thinking. “Okay. One, I have double-jointed thumbs. Two, this isn’t my real hair color. Three, in high school I wore a size eighteen.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any way you’d exempt me from this childish attempt at bonding, is there?” Shaun asked.
Rebecca shook her head. “Nope! You have to play too. And my guess is the third one. I can’t believe you were ever not skinny. You were probably captain of the cheerleading team at your school.”
“I was going to go with the thumbs,” said Miles, “But you’re right. I have a hard time imagining Lucy overweight.”
“C’mon Shaun, it’s gotta be all three before it’s an official guess. What’s your opinion?”
Shaun sighed. “I don’t have one. I’ll just go with you two.”
“Okay, three it is! We guess that the third one is the lie,” said Rebecca.
“Nope, it’s the second one. This is my real hair color. Well, mostly. Some of the highlights are left over from undercover, but it’s mostly grown out now. So you all have to drink, right?”
“Right!” Rebecca said, and they each took a sip of their drinks. “Okay Dezzie, you go next!”
Miles actually looked like he was finding this amusing. “Sure. Fact one, I can read sheet music. Fact two, I have three tattoos. Fact three, I love oldies music.”
Lucy said, “Well, we know you’ve got at least one tattoo, and where there’s one there could be more. So I’m gonna say the sheet music is the lie.”
“Yeah, and I’ve heard you humming along with your music, you definitely like the Beatles and Smokey Robinson,” said Rebecca. “So sheet music for me too.”
“Again, I really don’t care,” said Shaun, though he had to admit he was interested to find out which facts were true. “Throwing in with the majority.”
Miles shook his head, smiling. “That’s two wrong guesses in a row. I actually have four tattoos. There’s this one,” he held up his right forearm to point at the snake wrapped around it, “the back piece you’ve probably seen, and two more little ones. See, I got the big pieces done at different places, and each place has to do a little test to see if you’re gonna have an allergic reaction. So one little piece for each big piece. And,” he put on a mock-hurt expression, “I do know how to read sheet music. I’m not as uncultured as you guys seem to think I am.”
“Terribly sorry, Miles,” Shaun said. “The misunderstanding may stem from your staggering lack of awareness about the history of the human race outside of a basic American high school level.”
“Yes, yes, you’ve already made it clear you think I’m the biggest ignoramus to ever walk the face of the Earth, just because I don’t happen to know what year Cesare Borgia’s sixth cousin died.”
“Cesare Borgia didn’t have a sixth cousin. But when you told me you were surprised that Rodrigo Borgia became Pope, yes, it did cause me a small amount of pain in my soul to realize that I was going to have to spell absolutely everything out for you.”
“Okay it’s my turn now,” Rebecca said. “So drink and stop bickering.” She took a swig of her drink and launched into her list. “One I used to work for the US government, two I can’t taste blueberries, three my college roomie was Felicia Day.”
“No way did you ever work for The Man!” Lucy exclaimed. “They’d have fired you after two days! Heck, two hours!”
“Yeah, despite what TV shows tell us, I really don’t think the government wants crazy hacker chicks on their payroll.”
Grudgingly, Shaun said, “Actually, I rather agree with that. I honestly don’t think any government could keep you working within their guidelines.”
“Drink up, kids,” Rebecca smirked, “They couldn’t, but it took them a whole three months to figure it out. Oh, it was the third one, for the record.”
They all took their drinks. “Hang on,” Shaun said, “you really can’t taste blueberries? That’s a bit weird.”
“I know, right? It’s a genetic thing, apparently. Oh, and it’s your turn, Mr. Misery-Pants.”
“Yes, yes, I’m going. Let me think.” Shaun hated to admit it, but he was actually finding this game interesting. It was a good chance to learn about his coworkers, and, from an Assassin’s point of view, an excellent practical exercise in deception and reading body language. “So. One, I love foreign-language films. Two, I was star of my college - that’s high school to you Yanks - track team. Three, I’m not really British.”
“Whoa, okay, I’d say it has to be the last one but that’s too obvious and you will be explaining after we guess,” Rebecca said. “And we already went over your strange love for all things Italian, so…the second one?”
“You are a subtle and untrustworthy man,” said Miles, “so I’m gonna say it’s the first.”
“I guess that makes me the tiebreaker,” said Lucy. “I agree that you’re pretty sneaky, Shaun, but I gotta go with Becca on this one.”
“Oddly enough, Miles got it right,” said Shaun, “but according to the rules you got it wrong as a group, so you have to drink anyway. And, as to your obvious question, my father was from Los Angeles, where my mother was living on a work visa when they met. So I was born a US Citizen, but they moved back to London to be near Mum’s family after my Granddad died, when I was five. I have dual citizenship.”
“Wow. And you really don’t like foreign-language films?” Asked Lucy.
“Not generally. I find them to be aesthetically wonderful, but the storylines tend to focus a lot on the Second World War, and when you’re a historian that feels a lot like work.”
By the time midnight rolled around, they’d gone through two more rounds of drinks and found out that Lucy was secretly addicted to Pokemon, Rebecca had never had a pet, Miles could recite the soliloquies from Hamlet, Shaun loved superhero comics (especially Iron Man), Lucy was once arrested for vandalism (she’d spray-painted a giant cock on her first boyfriend’s BMW after he cheated on her), Rebecca had an irrational fear of cacti, Miles didn’t have a driver’s license (he had a motorcycle license, not the same thing), and Shaun had never read the Harry Potter books. To Shaun’s surprise, Miles turned out to be extremely adept at guessing the lies.
When the two waitresses started sweeping the floor and the bartender started closing out the register, they realized they were the last people left in the taverna. They downed what was left of their drinks and left, Miles with the waitress’ phone number, which she’d written on a napkin and tucked into his shirt pocket.
“That happen often?” Shaun asked as they walked up the main street toward the stairs to the Villa’s grounds.
“Often enough,” said Miles.
“Ever take them up on it?”
“Nah. I don’t really have trouble finding relationships. I don’t need the kind of thing that starts with me knowing her phone number before her name, y’know?”
“That’s right decent of you,” said Shaun, a bit surprised.
Miles gave him a wry grin and Shaun couldn’t help noticing that he had good teeth. “I’m not Ezio, man. I don’t try to seduce everything with two legs.”
And Caterina Sforza, Shaun’s major historical crush, walks into the room and she’s more beautiful than any woman has a right to be and from behind him he can hear Desmond moan and it takes all he has not to turn around and watch, digging his fingernails into his desk - Jesus stop thinking about it! Shaun hoped Miles would just chalk his blush up to the alcohol.
The girls were walking faster and in straighter lines than the two men, though Rebecca had downed more drinks than Lucy and Shaun put together. The woman had the tolerance of a Viking. By the time Shaun and Miles reached the bottom of the stairs that led up to the front of the Villa, the girls were nowhere to be seen.
When Miles tripped on the bottom step and nearly fell into the wall, Shaun’s first reaction was to snicker. “Need me to help you up the stairs, Mr. I-Run-Across-Rooftops-All-Night?”
Miles shook his head, leaning against the wall he’d almost tackled. “Non é la bevuta…shit, no, it’s not the drink.” He worked his way around the wall, keeping one hand on it for support, until he was in the alley off the main road, where he leaned his back against the wall and started rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
Shaun followed him into the shadows of the alley. “What’s the matter?”
“L’apparizione…no, ghosts…I mean the fucking bleeding effect, fuck…it’s getting worse lately...been happening almost every night, even though I try to stay awake. Penso che it’s this place, being at la villa, non c’é differenza…” he growled in frustration.
“Wait, it shows up when you’re awake, too?”
Miles nodded and immediately seemed to regret it, as he hissed in pain and his both his hands came up to his head. “La villa, is so close to how it was back then, I think it makes it easier for him to get in. I try to fight it, but holding it off for too long…if I let him in, let it happen, it’s fine, but concentrating like this, it…fucking hurts.” He slid down the wall and landed on the ground with a thump.
“Shit.” Shaun felt at a loss. He wasn’t qualified for this kind of thing. He was a glorified reference librarian, dammit! “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If you can…una sorpresa...forte emozione nel presente…”
“Um. Surprise? Strong emotion…oh, like a shock! Something to keep you grounded. Okay, okay, I can do that.” Shaun cast about for something to do that would surprise Miles, something not related to Ezio’s time. Maybe he could break a lightbulb on the nearest streetlamp, hope the flash of light would startle him out of it?
Meanwhile, Miles had curled in on himself. As Shaun contemplated the best route up the lamppost, the other man let out a whine of pain that threatened to build to a scream. That was the last thing they needed. Monteriggioni, with its old walls and new gates, was a quiet small town at night, and any disturbance would bring the rent-a-cop security guards running. Shaun crouched down in front of Miles and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got to keep it together, just for a couple minutes, please. Give me time to get up there.” Miles didn’t respond, just kept making painful-sounding incoherent noises.
Shaun glanced up at the streetlight again. It would take at least a minute for him to climb up there, and in that time Miles could start screaming, or possibly worse, become Ezio and run off. He couldn’t risk it. He dragged the other assassin back into a sitting position. “Fuck it,” he muttered, and kissed him full on the mouth.
Miles’ eyes flickered open for a moment, then, with a suddenness that made Shaun squeak in surprise, there was a taste of scotch on his lips, and strong arms found their way around the historian, one hand running fingers through his hair, the other finding its way to his lower back, sliding down…
But the hand stopped short, and the kiss was broken as instead it was laid flat on Shaun’s chest, pushing him firmly away. “Sorry!” He said, “Sorry, it’s just, you said you needed a shock, and there was no time and I panicked, and it was the first thing that I could think of and…and I know you’re not…that is, I hope it’s okay…no, that’s not…I’m going to stop talking now.”
Shaking his head, Miles let out a low laugh. “Shaun Hastings, lost for words. Mark the time and date, it’s a historical event! No, the kiss was fine. Just…I’m not really in any condition to be able to enjoy it, is all.” Indeed, he still looked much the worse for wear. There was a set to his jaw Shaun didn’t like, one he’d seen many times before on field agents rescued from missions gone wrong. It was a signal of a suppressed pain reflex.
“Right. Of course. Let’s…get you back upstairs, then.”
Miles looked up the stairs with an expression like a man looking at a gallows. “I…I can’t. If I go back in that house, he’ll come back. I can’t fight him off again tonight, and I can’t just let the memories come. What if he remembers a contract and actually kills someone?” He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. “I’m so fucking sick of all this. There are not words for how much I would like this to be done with, one way or another.”
Shaun punched him in the shoulder.
“Ow! What the hell?” Miles rubbed his shoulder, looking at Shaun with raised eyebrows.
“Every time you talk about giving up, I am going to hit you,” said Shaun. “Because one, Lucy would kill me if you managed to die under my supervision. Two, Rebecca would also kill me. Three, I would miss having you around to shower with my scorn. And four, I’d…rather miss having you around in a general sort of way, as well. Now, what do you need to keep your head single-occupancy?”
Miles stood up, using the wall for support. “I need to go somewhere he wouldn’t have been, somewhere with lots of stuff from now, if possible.”
Unsure, Shaun leaned against the opposite wall of the alley. “Well, we can’t leave town, and we can’t stay out here all night. I don’t know about you, but half a bottle of whiskey doesn’t exactly make me want to pull an all-nighter, and I’m not that keen on sleeping rough. But I won’t leave you out here alone, either.”
Miles looked skeptical. “I’d have thought you’d like nothing more than to lose me and never have to endure my stupid questions again.”
Shaun shook his head emphatically. “No. Whether I like you or not has nothing to do with it. You’re an Assassin now, which means you’re one of us, which means you don’t get left behind when you need help. It’s like family. You might think your brother is the stupidest human ever to waste air by breathing, but if he calls you for help, you go.”
Too late, Shaun remembered Miles’ background file. He winced as the man got a faraway look on his face. “So that’s what family’s like,” Miles murmured. “Sounds nice.”
With a huff, Shaun got to his feet and offered Miles a hand up. “It is, rather. So come along, you massive waste of oxygen. I think there’s an inn in town that’ll let us pay cash.”
Chapter: 4/5
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Disclaimer: All characters and concept (c) Ubisoft
Rating: This Chapter PG-13, overall M
Pairings: Shaun Hastings/Desmond Miles, bits of Ezio Auditore/Leonardo da Vinci, Ezio/Caterina Sforza, Ezio/Laura Boccanera. (Our boy Ezio sure gets around, doesn't he?)
Warnings: Fic contains spoilers for all three main-line games, including DLC. Also contains profanity, violence, and lots and lots of sex, though not until chapter 5. Hey, that's only one chapter away! Unfortunately you probably shouldn't just read the sexy parts because it also contains plot, though what that plot will end up looking like I'm not entirely sure.
Word Count: This Chapter 5021. Overall: 17133
Note: Originally this fic was supposed to be a gigantically long monster of forever. But then I got to chapter five and realized I may have started too soon in the plot. When I re-started it entirely post ACB, the plot elements worked a lot better. So chapter five will the the last for IKYK. But I think I stopped at a good point :)
The girls were waiting in the Villa’s main hall, and when Lucy found out Shaun and Desmond were heading into town she insisted on coming along, obviously still worried. Miles looked to Shaun, who shrugged and said, “Fine, but I’m not picking up the tab.”
Rebecca raised her hand, “Hey, I’m coming too! No way are you all leaving me here to work while you party!”
And that was how four Assassins found themselves walking down the main street of the tiny town of Monteriggioni late at night. Miles led them to the location of the old apothecary shop, which had been refurbished into a cozy taverna. Miles started through the door, but Lucy grabbed his arm. “No. Shaun goes in first.”
“What? Why?” Miles asked.
Shaun sighed. “It’s protocol. I haven’t been active in the field in years, so my face isn’t on the Templars’ radar. You, on the other hand, probably have an APB out on you. And this is the Templars we’re talking about, so it wouldn’t be out of character for them to frame you for murder or terrorism or something, as an excuse to get your face on the evening news and dupe the civilians into helping them. Anyway, I have to go in first and make sure no enemy agents are in there. Technically. Even though we’re in what is basically Assassin Central Station for Italy and southern Europe, and I doubt the Templars would ever want to mess with this place.”
“We have these rules for a reason, Shaun. Now get your ass in there and bring me back a report,” said Lucy.
Miles rolled his eyes. “Guys. I can do the vision thing, remember?”
“Oooh, I’ve always wanted to see that in action!” Rebecca said. “Do it do it!”
“It’s not a bloody party trick, Rebecca,” Shaun pointed out.
She looked sheepish. “Right. Sorry, Dez. Guess I’m just excited to be actually out of the basement.”
“Give me just a second,” Miles pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up and opened the door a crack, poking his head in and looking around like a potential patron checking if the place was still open. “Clear,” he said after a few seconds, and walked on in.
Rebecca was close on his heels, and Lucy went to follow them in, but Shaun held her back. “What the hell?” She snapped, shaking his arm off.
He stepped in close to her, glaring. “You listen to me, Lucy. I know you. You were planning to start interrogating him about what happened in the Sanctuary as soon as we sat down. But don’t you dare. Don’t mention anything about work, actually. He needs to not talk about it right now. You get me?”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you are to give me orders, Contractor Hastings?”
Shaun winced at the jab to his pride, couldn’t help but glance at the bracelet Lucy wore, silver with black stones set into it, marking her as an Assassin with a capital A. The Order of Assassins didn’t just throw recruits into the war untrained, or not usually; Miles was a special case. But most recruits went through a lengthy training process, moving through the ranks from Recruit to Assassin. It took over a year for even the most talented recruit to earn the title, as moving up meant gaining more and more independence in the field. Shaun had been nearly ready to move to the top rank when he was sent to Italy, meaning he was still technically a Contractor, the second-highest rank in the Order, marked as such to other assassins by the silver and green ring he wore on his left index finger.
He shook off the remark. “I’d have been promoted by now if we’d had contact with HQ, and I was recruited years before you, and you know it, so don’t you try pulling rank on me, Lucy. This outing isn’t about us, isn’t about the mission. It’s about Miles, and what he needs right now. We’re the closest thing the poor sod has to friends, and if we can’t be a little human sometimes and set aside protocol and mission priority for the space of one damn drink to save his sanity, then we’re as bad as they are.”
For a second, the specter of Sixteen hung heavy in the air between them, and Lucy’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, Shaun, you’re right. I just…we didn’t get any closer today, and Will’s riding me for results, and Vidic is still out there looking and it just feels like we’re wasting time if we’re not working…but you’re right. You’re right, it’s not wasting time to make sure Desmond is…okay.”
“Damn right it’s not,” Shaun said with a nod, and held the door for her as they went in.
The taverna was about half full with a mixture of tourists and locals. An entirely empty or full establishment would have been more suspicious, sign of a possible ambush, but the activity level seemed pretty normal for an Italian countryside drinking establishment at the end of the wine tourism season. Glancing over the setup of the tables, Shaun and Lucy noticed that Miles had taken the seat with the best view of the whole room, in the corner opposite the door. It was a location that put his back to the wall and gave him a good view of both the front door and the door into the taverna’s kitchen. The assassins exchanged glances as they took seats at the table. When they’d brought Miles to the warehouse, he’d been confused about why all the blinds on the exterior windows had to be kept down. Now it looked like he was casing rooms without even realizing it. But that’s good, Shaun thought as he took the seat next to Miles, across from Rebecca, that’s what we wanted. Without the Animus he would’ve been weeks just getting to the point where he could analyze a room effectively, much less quickly. So why did it feel so…odd to actually see him do it?
The waitress came over to take their drink orders and ask if they wanted anything to eat. She set a plate of antipasti and a bottle sparkling water in the middle of the table before going to give the bartender their order. Rebecca immediately dove in, rolling her eyes in culinary ecstasy. Even late at night, the bread that came with the platter of cheeses, charcuterie, and various spreads was warm and sent up a heavenly smell when they tore chunks off it to slather with hot mustard and layer with provolone, prosciutto, olive tapenade and sorpressata.
Shaun took a huge bite and chewed, slowly, with his eyes shut, letting all the flavors soak into his tastebuds before he swallowed. When he opened his eyes, he saw Miles giving him a weird look. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No, just...you must really like Italian food. That’s the first time I’ve seen you without a frown on your face since we got here.”
Lucy let out a laugh and now it was her turn to receive a shocked look from the newest member of their group. “Oh Des, I keep forgetting you don’t know us outside of work. This guy,” she pointed at Shaun, “has a love affair with all things Italian that is a perpetual theme in conversation.”
Shaun felt his face get hot and quickly took a sip of water to fight off the blush he knew was coming. “Look, I’m a historian, right? So is it any wonder that I enjoy talking about the country that housed the seat of the Roman Empire, one of the greatest civilizations of all time and the first to try not only a bicameral government but also what was basically a constitutional monarchy? And the linguistic ancestor of the romance languages, which comprise a total of 47 if you include dialects? And the most scientifically advanced society within two hundred years on either side of its existence?”
“Oh, don’t you dare try to pull off that ‘entirely academic’ B.S. with us sitting right here!” Rebecca exclaimed. She put on an atrocious fake English accent and mugged, “Oooh, and the beautiful art and the beautiful language and the operatic tradition and the Renaissance masters and the viniculture - ow!” She broke off when Shaun, having failed to fight off his rising blush, gave her a vicious poke in the shoulder.
“Okay, that’s enough about me and the Italians. Anyway, you’re just as bad about computers.”
“Well, yeah, but I can geek out about computers back home in the states. You nearly fell over yourself sucking up to Will to try to get this assignment, don’t pretend you didn’t!”
“Yes, fine, I like Italy, I wanted to come here. Can we please talk about something else?”
“Yes, let’s,” said Lucy. “Like how we’re going to get at that memory.”
“I meant something else that wasn’t work,” Shaun gave Lucy a stern look.
Rebecca nodded emphatically, and Miles, who’d taken on an odd, thoughtful look, joined her. “I agree,” he said. “We need a distraction, just for tonight.”
Lucy looked like it physically pained her to use time for anything other than working, but she nodded acquiescence.
The waitress arrived then with their drinks. Lucy had ordered a beer, Rebecca some kind of fizzy gin concoction, Miles a scotch sour, and Shaun a double pour of straight whiskey on the rocks. Nobody could help noticing the way the girl, who was lovely in that dark European way, gave Miles a look that went right through his clothes. She sashayed away and the girls started giggling. Shaun raised an eyebrow at Miles, who shrugged. “It happens,” he said. “I did inherit some good things from my ancestors.”
Shaun had to bite back the reply that popped into his head. Good things indeed. He’d noticed, it was impossible not to notice, and events had conspired to make living with Miles a personal hell for him. He’d been coming off his…whatever it had been, with Will, when he got the assignment; in fact, it was part of the reason he’d begged so hard to be assigned as team historian, since a few thousand kilometers pretty much guaranteed he wouldn’t be running into his ex at work. So, having become used to having a partner available on a regular basis, he was suddenly rushed into a situation where not only was there no opportunity for sex, there was no time to even think about it and he’d probably have been too tired to perform even if there had been.
But then Abstergo started threatening to do to Miles what they’d done to his unfortunate predecessor, that is, keep him in the Animus without giving him any breaks at all, and Lucy had moved up the extraction timeline, and Shaun had found himself sharing a small loft over a warehouse with the most attractive man he’d ever seen. And what was the first thing that man’s thrice-damned Italian ancestor did? Jump in bed with a woman, that’s what. So after having known the man exactly one day, which was plenty long enough to determine that yes, he would rather like to shag him, Shaun had to sit there and listen to him make the most incredible noises for a good five minutes until Rebecca figured out how to skip past that memory to a more useful, though entirely more boring, one. And then he’d developed the habit of going out into the warehouse and training with no bloody shirt on. And which window was directly next to Shaun’s workstation? Why the one that looked into the warehouse, of course.
And then tonight Miles had actually removed his ubiquitous hoodie, thanks to the warm temperature inside the taverna. Underneath he was wearing some of the clothes the girls had gotten for him after his dip in the Villa’s hidden waterways, a rust-red t-shirt and a pair of black jeans that fit tight in all the right places. Yes that’s right Hastings, fantasize about the man while he’s sitting right bloody there, capital idea. He could feel himself starting to turn even redder. He went for his drink.
“Wait,” said Lucy as the other three raised their glasses to their lips. “Um…I know this is superstitious of me, but when I was growing up it was kind of supposed to be bad luck if you didn’t make a toast on the first sip of your drink.” She looked down at the table, embarrassed. “I know it’s stupid, but if you guys wouldn’t mind…”
“Ah, girl, you don’t have to worry about that! We’ve all got our superstitions,” Rebecca said. She raised her glass, “To what, then?”
Shaun lifted his glass as well, “To our success. What else?” The other three nodded soberly and raised their drinks, meeting in the middle with a soft clink. Then they took their first sips. Shaun made his a long one, breathing in through his nose as he pulled whiskey through his teeth, then letting the air slowly out as the alcohol rolled across his tongue and burned all the way down the back of his throat. “God, I needed that,” he sighed.
Rebecca suddenly got a light in her eyes, a slightly manic look that Shaun had learned to dread. It meant she’d had an idea. Sure enough, she piped up, “Hey, we should totally play a drinking game!”
Miles looked at her like she’d suddenly grown horns, and Lucy’s eyebrows threatened to merge with her hairline. “Really?” she asked, “What is this, a college sorority party? We’re on the freeway to the end of the world with no brakes, and you want to play drinking games?”
Rebecca looked hurt. “Hey, you said yourself that Dezzie doesn’t know us from a rock, right? So, let’s give him a chance to get to know us. And we can find some stuff out about him, too, maybe.” Lucy still looked unsure. Shaun willed her to say no. “Pleeeeeeeeeease?” Rebecca made puppy-dog eyes at Lucy.
Lucy sighed and said, “I feel like I’m going to regret this. All right. What did you have in mind?”
“Two truths and a lie!” Rebecca chirped, bouncing in her seat. The other three gave her blank looks. She looked back in disbelief. “You’re kidding me, you’ve never played two truths and a lie? None of you?” The shook their heads. “Oh wow. You poor deprived little things. Well, I’m here to fix that! Okay, so,” she leaned forward in her seat and held up three fingers. “The rules are simple. Whoever’s turn it is says three facts about his or her self, two truths, one lie. Then the other three have to guess which is the lie, and if they get it wrong they have to drink! And if they get it right the person whose turn it is has to drink. Got it? And remember, nothing about work.”
Nodding, Lucy said, “I was right, I’m definitely going to regret this.”
“Good, then you can go first!” Rebecca grinned evilly.
Lucy sat back in her chair, thinking. “Okay. One, I have double-jointed thumbs. Two, this isn’t my real hair color. Three, in high school I wore a size eighteen.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any way you’d exempt me from this childish attempt at bonding, is there?” Shaun asked.
Rebecca shook her head. “Nope! You have to play too. And my guess is the third one. I can’t believe you were ever not skinny. You were probably captain of the cheerleading team at your school.”
“I was going to go with the thumbs,” said Miles, “But you’re right. I have a hard time imagining Lucy overweight.”
“C’mon Shaun, it’s gotta be all three before it’s an official guess. What’s your opinion?”
Shaun sighed. “I don’t have one. I’ll just go with you two.”
“Okay, three it is! We guess that the third one is the lie,” said Rebecca.
“Nope, it’s the second one. This is my real hair color. Well, mostly. Some of the highlights are left over from undercover, but it’s mostly grown out now. So you all have to drink, right?”
“Right!” Rebecca said, and they each took a sip of their drinks. “Okay Dezzie, you go next!”
Miles actually looked like he was finding this amusing. “Sure. Fact one, I can read sheet music. Fact two, I have three tattoos. Fact three, I love oldies music.”
Lucy said, “Well, we know you’ve got at least one tattoo, and where there’s one there could be more. So I’m gonna say the sheet music is the lie.”
“Yeah, and I’ve heard you humming along with your music, you definitely like the Beatles and Smokey Robinson,” said Rebecca. “So sheet music for me too.”
“Again, I really don’t care,” said Shaun, though he had to admit he was interested to find out which facts were true. “Throwing in with the majority.”
Miles shook his head, smiling. “That’s two wrong guesses in a row. I actually have four tattoos. There’s this one,” he held up his right forearm to point at the snake wrapped around it, “the back piece you’ve probably seen, and two more little ones. See, I got the big pieces done at different places, and each place has to do a little test to see if you’re gonna have an allergic reaction. So one little piece for each big piece. And,” he put on a mock-hurt expression, “I do know how to read sheet music. I’m not as uncultured as you guys seem to think I am.”
“Terribly sorry, Miles,” Shaun said. “The misunderstanding may stem from your staggering lack of awareness about the history of the human race outside of a basic American high school level.”
“Yes, yes, you’ve already made it clear you think I’m the biggest ignoramus to ever walk the face of the Earth, just because I don’t happen to know what year Cesare Borgia’s sixth cousin died.”
“Cesare Borgia didn’t have a sixth cousin. But when you told me you were surprised that Rodrigo Borgia became Pope, yes, it did cause me a small amount of pain in my soul to realize that I was going to have to spell absolutely everything out for you.”
“Okay it’s my turn now,” Rebecca said. “So drink and stop bickering.” She took a swig of her drink and launched into her list. “One I used to work for the US government, two I can’t taste blueberries, three my college roomie was Felicia Day.”
“No way did you ever work for The Man!” Lucy exclaimed. “They’d have fired you after two days! Heck, two hours!”
“Yeah, despite what TV shows tell us, I really don’t think the government wants crazy hacker chicks on their payroll.”
Grudgingly, Shaun said, “Actually, I rather agree with that. I honestly don’t think any government could keep you working within their guidelines.”
“Drink up, kids,” Rebecca smirked, “They couldn’t, but it took them a whole three months to figure it out. Oh, it was the third one, for the record.”
They all took their drinks. “Hang on,” Shaun said, “you really can’t taste blueberries? That’s a bit weird.”
“I know, right? It’s a genetic thing, apparently. Oh, and it’s your turn, Mr. Misery-Pants.”
“Yes, yes, I’m going. Let me think.” Shaun hated to admit it, but he was actually finding this game interesting. It was a good chance to learn about his coworkers, and, from an Assassin’s point of view, an excellent practical exercise in deception and reading body language. “So. One, I love foreign-language films. Two, I was star of my college - that’s high school to you Yanks - track team. Three, I’m not really British.”
“Whoa, okay, I’d say it has to be the last one but that’s too obvious and you will be explaining after we guess,” Rebecca said. “And we already went over your strange love for all things Italian, so…the second one?”
“You are a subtle and untrustworthy man,” said Miles, “so I’m gonna say it’s the first.”
“I guess that makes me the tiebreaker,” said Lucy. “I agree that you’re pretty sneaky, Shaun, but I gotta go with Becca on this one.”
“Oddly enough, Miles got it right,” said Shaun, “but according to the rules you got it wrong as a group, so you have to drink anyway. And, as to your obvious question, my father was from Los Angeles, where my mother was living on a work visa when they met. So I was born a US Citizen, but they moved back to London to be near Mum’s family after my Granddad died, when I was five. I have dual citizenship.”
“Wow. And you really don’t like foreign-language films?” Asked Lucy.
“Not generally. I find them to be aesthetically wonderful, but the storylines tend to focus a lot on the Second World War, and when you’re a historian that feels a lot like work.”
By the time midnight rolled around, they’d gone through two more rounds of drinks and found out that Lucy was secretly addicted to Pokemon, Rebecca had never had a pet, Miles could recite the soliloquies from Hamlet, Shaun loved superhero comics (especially Iron Man), Lucy was once arrested for vandalism (she’d spray-painted a giant cock on her first boyfriend’s BMW after he cheated on her), Rebecca had an irrational fear of cacti, Miles didn’t have a driver’s license (he had a motorcycle license, not the same thing), and Shaun had never read the Harry Potter books. To Shaun’s surprise, Miles turned out to be extremely adept at guessing the lies.
When the two waitresses started sweeping the floor and the bartender started closing out the register, they realized they were the last people left in the taverna. They downed what was left of their drinks and left, Miles with the waitress’ phone number, which she’d written on a napkin and tucked into his shirt pocket.
“That happen often?” Shaun asked as they walked up the main street toward the stairs to the Villa’s grounds.
“Often enough,” said Miles.
“Ever take them up on it?”
“Nah. I don’t really have trouble finding relationships. I don’t need the kind of thing that starts with me knowing her phone number before her name, y’know?”
“That’s right decent of you,” said Shaun, a bit surprised.
Miles gave him a wry grin and Shaun couldn’t help noticing that he had good teeth. “I’m not Ezio, man. I don’t try to seduce everything with two legs.”
And Caterina Sforza, Shaun’s major historical crush, walks into the room and she’s more beautiful than any woman has a right to be and from behind him he can hear Desmond moan and it takes all he has not to turn around and watch, digging his fingernails into his desk - Jesus stop thinking about it! Shaun hoped Miles would just chalk his blush up to the alcohol.
The girls were walking faster and in straighter lines than the two men, though Rebecca had downed more drinks than Lucy and Shaun put together. The woman had the tolerance of a Viking. By the time Shaun and Miles reached the bottom of the stairs that led up to the front of the Villa, the girls were nowhere to be seen.
When Miles tripped on the bottom step and nearly fell into the wall, Shaun’s first reaction was to snicker. “Need me to help you up the stairs, Mr. I-Run-Across-Rooftops-All-Night?”
Miles shook his head, leaning against the wall he’d almost tackled. “Non é la bevuta…shit, no, it’s not the drink.” He worked his way around the wall, keeping one hand on it for support, until he was in the alley off the main road, where he leaned his back against the wall and started rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
Shaun followed him into the shadows of the alley. “What’s the matter?”
“L’apparizione…no, ghosts…I mean the fucking bleeding effect, fuck…it’s getting worse lately...been happening almost every night, even though I try to stay awake. Penso che it’s this place, being at la villa, non c’é differenza…” he growled in frustration.
“Wait, it shows up when you’re awake, too?”
Miles nodded and immediately seemed to regret it, as he hissed in pain and his both his hands came up to his head. “La villa, is so close to how it was back then, I think it makes it easier for him to get in. I try to fight it, but holding it off for too long…if I let him in, let it happen, it’s fine, but concentrating like this, it…fucking hurts.” He slid down the wall and landed on the ground with a thump.
“Shit.” Shaun felt at a loss. He wasn’t qualified for this kind of thing. He was a glorified reference librarian, dammit! “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If you can…una sorpresa...forte emozione nel presente…”
“Um. Surprise? Strong emotion…oh, like a shock! Something to keep you grounded. Okay, okay, I can do that.” Shaun cast about for something to do that would surprise Miles, something not related to Ezio’s time. Maybe he could break a lightbulb on the nearest streetlamp, hope the flash of light would startle him out of it?
Meanwhile, Miles had curled in on himself. As Shaun contemplated the best route up the lamppost, the other man let out a whine of pain that threatened to build to a scream. That was the last thing they needed. Monteriggioni, with its old walls and new gates, was a quiet small town at night, and any disturbance would bring the rent-a-cop security guards running. Shaun crouched down in front of Miles and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got to keep it together, just for a couple minutes, please. Give me time to get up there.” Miles didn’t respond, just kept making painful-sounding incoherent noises.
Shaun glanced up at the streetlight again. It would take at least a minute for him to climb up there, and in that time Miles could start screaming, or possibly worse, become Ezio and run off. He couldn’t risk it. He dragged the other assassin back into a sitting position. “Fuck it,” he muttered, and kissed him full on the mouth.
Miles’ eyes flickered open for a moment, then, with a suddenness that made Shaun squeak in surprise, there was a taste of scotch on his lips, and strong arms found their way around the historian, one hand running fingers through his hair, the other finding its way to his lower back, sliding down…
But the hand stopped short, and the kiss was broken as instead it was laid flat on Shaun’s chest, pushing him firmly away. “Sorry!” He said, “Sorry, it’s just, you said you needed a shock, and there was no time and I panicked, and it was the first thing that I could think of and…and I know you’re not…that is, I hope it’s okay…no, that’s not…I’m going to stop talking now.”
Shaking his head, Miles let out a low laugh. “Shaun Hastings, lost for words. Mark the time and date, it’s a historical event! No, the kiss was fine. Just…I’m not really in any condition to be able to enjoy it, is all.” Indeed, he still looked much the worse for wear. There was a set to his jaw Shaun didn’t like, one he’d seen many times before on field agents rescued from missions gone wrong. It was a signal of a suppressed pain reflex.
“Right. Of course. Let’s…get you back upstairs, then.”
Miles looked up the stairs with an expression like a man looking at a gallows. “I…I can’t. If I go back in that house, he’ll come back. I can’t fight him off again tonight, and I can’t just let the memories come. What if he remembers a contract and actually kills someone?” He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. “I’m so fucking sick of all this. There are not words for how much I would like this to be done with, one way or another.”
Shaun punched him in the shoulder.
“Ow! What the hell?” Miles rubbed his shoulder, looking at Shaun with raised eyebrows.
“Every time you talk about giving up, I am going to hit you,” said Shaun. “Because one, Lucy would kill me if you managed to die under my supervision. Two, Rebecca would also kill me. Three, I would miss having you around to shower with my scorn. And four, I’d…rather miss having you around in a general sort of way, as well. Now, what do you need to keep your head single-occupancy?”
Miles stood up, using the wall for support. “I need to go somewhere he wouldn’t have been, somewhere with lots of stuff from now, if possible.”
Unsure, Shaun leaned against the opposite wall of the alley. “Well, we can’t leave town, and we can’t stay out here all night. I don’t know about you, but half a bottle of whiskey doesn’t exactly make me want to pull an all-nighter, and I’m not that keen on sleeping rough. But I won’t leave you out here alone, either.”
Miles looked skeptical. “I’d have thought you’d like nothing more than to lose me and never have to endure my stupid questions again.”
Shaun shook his head emphatically. “No. Whether I like you or not has nothing to do with it. You’re an Assassin now, which means you’re one of us, which means you don’t get left behind when you need help. It’s like family. You might think your brother is the stupidest human ever to waste air by breathing, but if he calls you for help, you go.”
Too late, Shaun remembered Miles’ background file. He winced as the man got a faraway look on his face. “So that’s what family’s like,” Miles murmured. “Sounds nice.”
With a huff, Shaun got to his feet and offered Miles a hand up. “It is, rather. So come along, you massive waste of oxygen. I think there’s an inn in town that’ll let us pay cash.”