Malik looked up as Altair ran through the doorway, holding something bulky behind his back with a large grin on his face. "Maaalliik~!" He called, stopping in front of the desk Malik stood at. He raised an eye brow in question, face indifferent. Altair's smile turned cocky. "Look what I found!"

Malik stepped back a bit when a familiar instrument was shoved in his face. He broke the silence with a simple question. "A Darbuka?*" Altair nodded. "Aiwa!*" More silence.

Malik huffed, turning his back to the assassin and looking over the items he held in stock, picking up a leather clad book. "Well, if you're planning on playing it here and making the Templars discover us, you might as well go and play it for them personally." Though he wasn't facing Altair, he could tell he frowned.

Altair stared down at the Darbuka silently, thinking. "..." Lifting a hand, he tapped it once with an audible sound echoing from its base.

Malik dropped his book abruptly when his hips snapped to the right, his upper torso and arms locking in place by shock. He spun around to face Altair, his eyes wide. "Altair! kh-Khalas!*"

Altair's smirk came back full force and he got on one knee in playing position, his other knee holding up the drum. He padded his fingers against it rhythmically, creating an easy melody. "Yallah h'elwe, Yallah!*" He called playfully, rocking to the beat slightly as he played.

Malik turned until the other could no longer see his face which was beginning to flush pink with restrain, bringing a hand up to his mouth. A bead of sweat trailed down from his forehead. His movements became restricted as he thought to himself. 'Must... resist... Urge... Moving hips...'

Altair chuckled. "Oh, whats with you? Don't you remember how only ten years ago we sneaked to Al-Mualim's office, and I played like this, and you got on his desk, and started danc-" He was cut off as the book Malik dropped before slammed into his head with a solid -THUNK- And bounced off his skull, landing somewhere behind him and skidding acrosds the floor. He rubbed the new swollen bump, flinching at Malik's roar.

"AND EVEN SINCE THEN, YOU'RE STILL A NOVICE!"

This was going to be on deviantart too, but the website was being a b*tch to me and I know this website better :(

*; A darbuka is a hand drum

Aiwa - yes

Khalas - stop it/ enough

Yallah - Come on

H'elwe - sweetie (altair uses the female form, the male form is h'elou)

I wrote this for a deviant named pakhnokh. The art for this fic is at art/the-Darbuka-314616672