For anyone who ACTUALLY read my first story, sorry if you've been waiting for this. Personal stuff got in the way, and my laptop was stolen, therefore I had no opportunity to post this. Luckily, I got it back, and I now present Part II: Out of the Animus, Into the Fire... (Also, if you've not read Part I, it's recommended, but not necessary. Please comment!)
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6:30 P.M., Abstergo Industries
Unfortunately for Desmond Miles, Lucy Stillman had noticed the bulge he'd contracted during his session in the Animus. She'd been contacted by her Assassin cohorts three days earlier, who told her of the imminent attack on the Abstergo stronghold where the two of them were being held, a raid to release the captives of the Templars. Lucy had also been given instructions to make Desmond as comfortable as possible, which she had done by delivering fresh clothes and bedding while he showered, and, through ingenious hacking skills, created Altair's last 'memory' of the encounter with Cristina di Pinciotti. However, as per her last communique, she was to give him a more... personal experience.
"That will be all for now, Mr. Miles. Return to your room and get some sleep. Thank you for you work today."
Desmond shuffled off to his quarters, silent as he trundled away. Lucy's mind was awash with ideas, plotting for tonight's event. She'd been observing him for several nights, watching him as he showered, admiring his muscles and scars from his training at the Farm. She had been waiting for this night, where Vidic would not be staying overnight to go over the day's readings from the Animus. As soon as he passed through the exit doors, she brought up the command console on her terminal on the machine and deactivated the cameras.
Desmond lied down, pondering how long he'd been kept here, or how much longer, when he hear three light taps on his door, and saw a sheet of paper slide underneath it. It read as so:
Shower and dress. Be awake at 12:00.
I will be coming around then.
Desmond knew exactly who it was from, and what was implied, but why she sent it he did not know. The back of his mind told him not to care; he was going to get laid for the first time in God-knows-how-long, and he wasn't sure if he would get the chance again. His mind reeling from her message, he complied, and got into the shower.
11:50 P.M.
Lucy paced back and forth, waiting for the right time to depart. She was only a short walk from his room, but at 11:55 exactly, she would have a five minute window where all of the night guards would be positioned correctly so she would have zero chance of getting caught in the hall; if she did, she would have no excuse, and would be fired, possibly killed, leaving Desmond at Warren's mercy, who would leave Desmond in the machine until either he got what he wanted or Desmond's brain completely fried. The second her window opened, she swiped her passcard and padded through her doorway, the white silk robe waving behind her, barely enough to cover the contrasting jet black lingerie. She was ghostly, flowing through the corridors as though a breeze. The card slid through the lock, the entrance to the Anumus room opened and she strode inside. The cameras inside were off; all external power was shut down to save for the Animus as it consumed huge amounts of energy. Locking the door behind her, she turned, and made her way to Desmond's door.
Desmond sat at the edge of the bed, watching the clock intently. He was dressed in the only clothes provided: his white hoodie and T-shirt, plus his blue jeans, all cleaned and returned by the time he exited the shower. He often wondered who was watching him through the cameras in his room: some technician, Vidic, Lucy. As soon as he thought of her name, his entryway made a familiar noise, and he looked up. Her uniform of a thick white blouse and black skirt his her features well; she was curvaceous, with mouthwatering breasts and long, slender legs. She was illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window behind her, and she looked as though she were an angel. Her face was a smile, though not unexpected, as she'd planned this. Not caring why, he stood up, continuing to admire her as she locked the door upon moving in.
"Everything you expected, Desmond?"
"Not... really. Definitely more than I did."
"Yes. The female Abstergo uniform doesn't allow much breathing room, or showing off."
"I can see that. But why are you here?"
"I've been monitoring your vitals over the past couple of days. Your blood pressure is flying, and you need to relieve some stress or the Animus could kill you in the middle of a session."
"Oh. Good point."
"Now, just sit down, relax, and let me do the work."
Desmond sat down as Lucy walked around, kneeling on the bed behind him and pulling up his shirt and hoodie over his head. He was strong, bulky and muscular from growing up an Assassin, yet scars covered his back, since the only punishment for disobedience or failure was to be tied by the arms to two poles and lashed with a whip. He tried to forget those memories as Lucy ran her fingers along the ridges, a sad look lingering in her eyes.
"Is this why you ran from the Farm?"
"I left the Farm because they wouldn't let me be anything else besides a killer."
"But that's your heritage! Your legacy!"
"I don't care anymore."
