Disclaimer: In no way do I own Assassin's Creed or The Dark Knight Trilogy.

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Superhero crossover challenge: Bruce Wayne, Desmond Miles.

Summary: In the Florentine café, a kid in white hoodie comes up to Bruce with an invitation in the form of a ring. A kid that reminds him a bit of everything he dislikes, but nothing is as black and white as first seemed, and sometimes there really is no escaping one's past.
Slight AU, due to liberties taken with the timeline of both fandoms. Set late in AC: Brotherhood and immediately after TDKR.
For plot reasons, the original name for The League of Shadows is used.

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Next in Line

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Bruce notices the kid the moment he rounds the corner, even before those sharp but wandering brown eyes under the beaked white hoodie catch sight of him. But the kid is good, really good in fact, considering he is at most a few years out of college but has been tailing them quite successfully for the past two days.

The confrontation would happen sooner or later since the kid has already proved that loosing him would be a difficult feat, and Bruce isn't too keen on a game of cat and mouse across rooftops with his bad knees, with or without his mechanical bracer. The best course of action under the circumstances is to provide an opening and see what the kid want, so Bruce subtly gestures to Selina and she immediately get the hint to take a walk.

The troubling thing is that the Clean Slate Program is apparently not as thorough as he has originally hoped.

The kid takes the bait and comes over, and immediately Bruce notes the contraption hidden under the long sleeve. The kid is armed, but so far no signs of hostility.

"Are you... Bruce?" The kid's eyes cautiously darts left and right before extending a hand, an American accent pronounce in his question.

Bruce takes it, but still wary. "And you are...?"

"Desmond." The kid pulls the seat closer and murmurs under his breath, he doesn't give his last name. "I... uh..." Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head.

Since Bruce has always been a patient man, he doesn't press for an answer but waits for the younger man to elaborate. He does after a long minute.

"My apologies, I'm feeling a little nostalgic." Desmond lightly chuckles, now with a distinct Italian accent. Bruce frowns. "It's been a while since I last been here, but Florence will always be my home." A pause. And the kid squeezes his eyes shut again before murmuring a quiet 'Goddamnit, Ezio' under his breath.

The kid seems unfocused, unprofessionally getting sidetracked by outside influences, so Bruce finally decides to give him a break and steer him in the right direction. "You have been following me for two days." He is rather curious how he was discovered though, and the former Gotham Knight wonders whether the kid is good enough to pick out the questioning undertone within the statement.

He does.

"The Program is how we've all stayed under the radar for so long, but we still have to be able to keep track of each other." Back to the American accent, and Desmond gives a small shrug. "If that's what you wanted to know."

Bruce nods. He doesn't miss the 'we' in that sentence, the kid doesn't work alone and by the sound of it there is likely a powerful group behind him.

Desmond checks over his shoulder again and for a moment his eyes seems to glow, then he pulls his hood even lower keeping his voice barely above whisper. "I'm with the Brotherhood." He says, as if it explains everything.

It doesn't.

"The Order?" Desmond tries again.

Again, Bruce just gives him a polite puzzlement with a slight amused tinge.

"Hmm..." He seems to be thinking. "Or do you call it the League?"

That successfully gets Bruce's attention, and he tenses. The League of Assassins. They are still out there, a little setback but very much alive. The former Knight narrows his eyes dangerously.

"Good." Desmond sounds relief. "You do remember us."

It haven't even been ten months since Bane's reign, and Gotham is still struggling to rebuild. Bruce fight the urge to growl. "You are here for revenge I take it."

Now Desmond looks surprised. "No, of course not!" He vehemently shakes his head, like it is a great big misunderstanding. "I don't have a death wish."

"Then what." A clear demand for answers.

Desmond takes a deep breath, before starting to recite an obviously prepared speech. "The Wayne family had been high ranking Templars for five generations, staking their claim on a particular city from the very beginning and no others could ever hope to challenge them." He is talking with a different accent again, a Middle Eastern one this time. Arab, maybe? "Until the Mentor saw the chance to steal their last scion, a risky gambit that did not go as planned." He raises his eyes, flashing a hint of gold. "Sounds familiar?"

It is easy to connect the dots. "Ducard was the Mentor."

"Yes, from 2000 to 2005." The kid answers, eyes lower a bit in appropriate respect. "Then you got him killed."

Bruce doesn't deny. "Why are you here, kid?"

"My team is on our way to Rome to retrieve a POE, took a detour here to lose any potential tails." The younger man replies, back to the American accent again. And Bruce is about ready to diagnose him a case of dissociative identity disorder. Just fantastic, Bruce thinks sullenly. The kid is another crazy person and he hates crazies, but they just seems to be dead-set on dogging his footsteps wherever he goes.

"Then the higher ups realized you happen to be in the area and so here I am, tasked with the mission to come bring you back."

"Bring me back...?"

"Yeah. Back to the Assassin Brotherhood, or League, whatever you want to call it."

"You've got to be joking."

"Hey, I'm risking my neck here. Not a joking matter." Desmond scratches the back of his hood. "If you're wondering why we didn't send someone over sooner, it's because this mission is labeled as Super Difficult and we don't have any Master Assassins at the moment. Low on manpower and all that since the Great Purge, but don't look at me like this... I'm the best we currently have, kind of."

Bruce looks at him, deep in thought. A lot of things are new to him, and he would rather not make hasty judgments.

"We'll have one Master Assassin," Desmond says hopefully. "If you're willing to come back...?"

"No."

"... Why not?" The kid almost whines.

"I would think it's obvious." Bruce deadpans. This isn't the first time he decline this invite and he thinks of Henri Ducard's last attempt as he burn the Wayne Manor to the ground.

You were my greatest student. It should be you, standing by my side, saving the world.

Bruce repels the mental image. "The League tried to destroy my city. Three times."

"It was actually five times, due to Gotham being a Templar controlled city." The sharp Arabic accent again gradually bleeds into these spoken words. "Three of them were attempts to change it with less bloodshed, it never worked."

The tone turns light, now accompanying the inflection of the Italian language. "What that means is we've been sending our best into Gotham, and no one ever got out of there alive... except for you of course." The kid smirks, pulling at the vertical scar on the side of his lips, now making Bruce think of the Joker and he can't help but deepens his frown. "And for that I say the gambit paid off."

Better to treat the situation as if he's talking to three different people, the Gothamite concludes. While the American and the Italian seem to like him or at the very least neutral, the Middle Easterner apparently does not.

"That is no excuse." Bruce intertwines his fingers, and darkens his tone. "Bane and Talia planned on the slaughter of millions. Most of them innocent."

"Bane was excommunicated long ago; he was not one of us, thus we cannot account for his actions. Not to mention, it would be hard pressed to say there is any innocent in the city of Gotham." Again, it is the unsmiling Middle Easterner. "As for Talia, her given mission was never city annihilation... though if all else failed, it was a loss we could accept. A necessary sacrifice to save many more on the grander scale."

"You're doing a poor job at convincing me." Bruce furrows his brows and gives a cold glare. By now it is clearly established that between the two of them the dislike is mutual, but unfortunately, of the three he also seems to be the most insightful.

"You have no idea why the Bomb had to detonate, do you." It isn't a question.

"Enlighten me."

"There was a POE in that city, it had to be destroyed."

Bruce does not know what a POE is, but he is confident with his computer skills he could later dig out the secrets behind that abbreviation and the history it has with the League of Assassins.

"It was discovered underground during the months of occupation and was later placed within the core of the Bomb. Talia might be obsessed with vengeance but never once did she lose sight of her true goal, she was one of our best and the only one to succeed in that city, at the cost of her life." The kid suddenly stops himself then. "Altaïr, are you sure we should be telling him that?"

As Bruce ponders over this information, he can't help but muse at the names. So the Middle Easterner is 'Altaïr.' And that will make the Italian that 'Ezio' the kid let slipped before. Altaïr and Ezio... Eagles? The former Knight wonders whether it is significant.

"That he had efficiently took out the last of another Assassin line? Yes. Especially considering the position we are offering, he should be very well informed of what he had done."

"No, I mean..."

A flighty laugh. The Italian. "Don't tell me you do not know why we're after this guy, Desmond."

"Huh? Am I missing something?"

This is getting surreal now, Bruce observes the younger male with some amount of amusement. The kid doesn't seem to realize he has been speaking everything out loud.

"Bill is only temporary, you know this, right?"

"I know, but what does my dad have to do with all this?"

"Stop teasing him, Ezio." The kid scowls, rubbing his temple as if he was suffering a mild migraine. Then holds up both of his hands in mock surrender, expressions rapidly changing. "Alright, Altaïr. But my advice is you need to loosen up a little."

Bruce coughs politely. And the kid practically jumps a foot into the air, clearly has forgotten about his company.

"That's over 30 seconds, isn't it?" Desmond asks miserably, burying his face into his hands. "I'm so fucked."

"The other two said you don't know why you're after me." Bruce tilts his head.

The kid pushes himself back up and let out a heavy sigh. "I wasn't exactly always myself, as you just witnessed." Desmond says unhappily. "There are two ancient Assassins in my head, they make me space out sometimes."

This. Now, Bruce can place the symptoms. "You've been using the Animus?"

"Very long story short, yes." The kid answers.

"I thought they are still in the testing stage."

"You'll be surprised where Abstergo got their test subjects from." Desmond grumbles, then waves his hands impatiently. "But hey, this isn't about me, okay? We're talking about you, and my mission. And it's getting nowhere!"

"I've already declined the invitation."

"But you can't do that." The kid huffs, a little bitterly. "I've tried, it won't work."

That gets Bruce looking at him, now very amused. And Desmond feels his face heat up. "Okay, fine. I know you could disappear better than me, big deal." He crosses his arms somewhat indignantly. "I'm going to bring you back with us regardless; I know it's important at least."

Bruce shakes his head. "I thought the League has placed me under the name of traitor by now." He admits. "I'm responsible for the death of your former Mentor, I kind of expect it to damage my reputation."

Desmond shrugs at that. "Probably, but I ran from the Farm when I was sixteen, so I'm not very up to date concerning the inside situations. And since I don't personally know Henri, I see you as okay-ish in my book. Besides, Altaïr killed the Mentor of his time when he was only around my age and he–" A pause. "Ooohhh."

"What is it?"

"It's you!"

"Yes?"

"You're the guy."

Patience. "Desmond, you're not making sense."

"Well, my dad is currently the leader of the Brotherhood," The kid says, grinning at the older man. "But he's only a temporary replacement and we need the real thing, the next Mentor."

Bruce doesn't like what this is implying. "No."

"Don't be so quick to refuse the offer, amico mio." Ezio slyly answers, eyes half-lidded hiding an unnatural golden glint. "Think of our generous terms." A tone shift. "And as Al Mualim, your words will be our law." Altaïr continues, a smirk tugs at the edge of his scarred lips. "Consider that if you so wish, need only to speak and Gotham shall be spared."

"Are you threatening me?"

"We would not dare." The kid's sentence is now spoken in a jumble of Arabic and Italian accent, and Bruce wonders where has the American gone. "It is an offer."

"You are asking me to lead a bunch of professional killers."

"Assassins."

"Similar. But killing is against my personal rule."

The kid scoffs, then suddenly cuts himself off and starts to laugh. It's jarring.

"What."

"You just reminded me of something people said about you, and well, let's just say I haven't believed them until now." It is Desmond this time, the only one of the three that Bruce actually likes. "Okay, I get you, and neither way it's just an offer. You have plenty of time to think it over, until the 21st this December. I'm guessing they'll send some other important guy to come get you around then."

The kid slowly gets up. "I've overstayed my welcome anyways, one can't be careful enough, you know? The cell phone surveillance technology your company developed a few years ago is really forcing us into corners."

That causes Bruce to wince, he thought he has destroyed the last of its blueprints. But apparently something will always slip through, no matter how careful one is. Desmond only wave it off. "We just gotta keep moving."

The older man sighs, what's done is done. "... You said you won't be the one to 'recruit' me the next time?"

"Not likely."

"Any particular reason why?"

Desmond stops shuffling on his legs and pulls his beaked hood down again, now identified as a sign that he was nervous or uncomfortable. "I... I'm probably not going to be alive by then, so..."

Bruce nods. "So it's a goodbye."

"Yeah." Desmond looks up at him. "It's nice meeting you, Bruce." He says sincerely, fingers digging into his jeans pocket and places an exquisite ring on the table. It is pure black but seems to reflect a dark greenish color, with wing-designs for the band, decorating an ominous A symbol that Bruce has seen only once beforehand branded onto Talia's shoulder blade. "Just reconsider our offer, okay? I'm not always a good judge of character per se, but I really believe you'll make a great Mentor." And, as an afterthought, the young Assassin bends his left ring finger in a secret salute. Before turning around and taking off.

"Desmond?"

The kid halts his steps, puzzled. "Yeah?"

"What did people say about me?"

There is a mischievous twinkle in the kid's brown eyes. "They say you're the first Assassin that ever attempted to be a vegan."

"Vegan?" Bruce chuckles at that. "And who's the second?"

Desmond grinned. "Me."

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A/N: Do you think Bruce will accept the offer? A definite NO for the Assassin League of the Batman comics/movie, but what about the Assassin Brotherhood of AC? It can honestly go either way.

* Bruce will definitely be a Master Assassin within the Brotherhood, and so far the only one to achieve that rank in the 21st century. So don't blame the modern Assassin teams to be a bit reluctant to approach him, their member count is low enough as it is... especially since Bruce's No Killing Rule is more regarded as a joke in the Order, due to the number of bodies he has left behind.

* The cover image is the invitation ring.