A/N: This story is merely for fun. If you go into this thinking too logically, you're gonna have a bad time. Periodically, some things aren't going to make sense. But it's silly, and that's the point. Also, it's mostly going to be a collection of short little drabbles, so you won't have to read one chapter to understand another.

With that out of the way, if you haven't completed the game yet, you may not want to read this. There are potential spoilers, and I'm not going to be held accountable if you ruin something for yourself now that I have warned you.

The Movie Theater

The two men began shuffling into the packed theater, various goodies in hand. After arguing on what the optimal sitting arraignments where, Connor arguing that the further they sat from the screen, the better the visual quality while Haytham arguing that sitting in the middle of the theater gives both the best visual and audio experience, the theater was almost completely full, so the two had to count their losses and sit in the front row.

"Ah, isn't this nice, Connor?" Haytham spoke as he sat down comfortably in his chair, placing the food and drinks in their appropriate places. Connor said nothing as he took a seat next to his father, scowl firmly fixed on his face.

"Oh come now," Haytham sighed, removing Connor's hood, "Why the scowl? You should feel appreciative considering I'm taking you to a movie at all. And take off that bow, you're obstructing the vision of the other movie goers."

Connor only grunted, holding firmly to his bow.

"Now young man," Haytham frowned, not enjoying his son's obstinance, "You do as your told."

"I thought this was a free country," Connor frowned harder, grip tightening.

Haytham sighed with both embarrassment and frustration before taking a hold of the bow himself and trying to yank it from his child who was acting nothing short of a baby. However, when Connor refused to let go, Haytham's anger became verbal.

"Connor, stop being such a child and set the bow on the floor, you can have it back after the movie."

"I refuse," was the curt reply, as the two men began a tug-of-war.

"Don't do this," Haytham hissed quietly, noticing that the two were making a scene, "Put the bow down!"

"No," Connor fought back, now standing in an attempt to get a better leg up on the situation.

"Could you two please get your little fight over with? The trailers are sta-"

But the fellow movie goer was silenced as Haytham shoved a small dagger into the man's jugular. Connor sat down slowly, mouth hanging slightly agape, as Haytham lowered the now dead man back into his seat, angry eye contact never leaving Connor.

"You … you killed him," Connor stated aloud, astounded that his father would do that in a theater, of all places.

"He was interrupting, and I find that quite rude," Haytham replied, slipping the dagger back into his petticoat and out of sight. If anyone had seen the Templar kill the innocent man, then they sure didn't say anything.

Reluctantly, Connor slipped the bow off and placed it on the floor next to him. He didn't really feel like creating a bigger conflict which would cause more civilians to die.

"Now then," Haytham remarked, again sitting back in his seat, "Shall we enjoy the show then? Here, have this."

Connor's hand was instantly filled with a box of Reese's Pieces. Once again frowning, the native man opened the cardboard and took a sniff, frown turning a look of disgruntled distaste.

Haytham noticed this and rolled his eyes. Leaning closer to Connor, he half whispered half hissed in his ear, "Oh, come now. Don't tell me you don't like candy."

Connor didn't say anything as he inspected the colorful pieces inside the box.

"They're good, son, eat them."

"But," the assassin spoke meekly, "I am allergic to peanuts."

Haytham's expression went blank for a moment as he was trying to fathom what his son was telling him. "You're … allergic?"

"Yes," was the simply reply in return.

"Oh, don't be silly and just eat them," Haytham turned to once again face towards the screen, ignoring what was sure a small fib on behalf of his child. Always had to be difficult, that one.

"Seriously, Connor?" the older man spoke up once again as they had made it through one trailer and Connor was still staring with distaste into the tiny box.

Sighing for the umpteen time that day, Haytham snatched the candy from his son's grasp, "Fine. Have my Butterfinger, then."

The native man seemed much more pleased with this, as he didn't completely snarl at the candy when he unwrapped it from it's confines.

"Father," the man said quietly, after consuming the bar, "I am thirsty."

"Here, have some soda, then," Haytham replied nonchalantly, enjoying one of the trailers.

"But I would rather have some water."

"Well, all I got was soda. You should have said something while we were in the lobby."

"Then I do not want this," Connor pouted, passing the drink back to Haytham.

"Fine then," Haytham replied, ignoring his son's obstinace.

About a minute passed before the younger man spoke up again, much to the chagrin of his father, "I am still thirsty."

"Then go get a drink."

"I do not know where to go."

"Connor, we were just in the lobby not even fifteen minutes ago. Surely you can manage."

"If I go out there, I am not coming back in."

This got Haytham's attention as he turned to face his son, "Connor, I'm trying to do this to, you know, try and form a relationship with you. Father/son kind of thing, I'm sure you're aware. Why are you making this so difficult?"

"I just wanted some water, father," Connor replied, stone faced and dead serious.

"Fine, fine," Haytham replied, standing up and making his way to the lobby exit, "Let's go get some water then."

"Actually, this soda is not terrible," Connor replied, taking a sip from the abandoned cup, "I do not need that water any longer."

Slapping a hand to his face, Haytham would be surprised if they could even make it through this goddamn movie. It was at this point that a frail theater attendant came confidently up to Haytham and demanded that he sit down or leave the theater, as he was disturbing others. If he would've been a smarter man, Haytham would not had to have killed him and slipped him behind the screen curtains in order to quell the anger that had risen greatly beyond his breaking point due to his son.

But that's if he was a smarter man.

Haytham retook his place next to Connor who was now noticeably happier, and once again put a hand to his face.

"What the bloody hell have I gotten myself into?"

Chapter 1

End

A/N: Like I said, all for fun! And stupidity, there's a lot of stupidity. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Reviews are always very appreciated, and thanks for reading!