Pin the Tail on the Donkey
Ezio stood firm as he was spun around, and around, and around, and around.
"Enough."
Desmond laughed and stopped him, putting the donkey tail in his hands. "Have fun!"
His hands out, Ezio felt what was in front of him. "I do not like this. I cannot even use Eagle Vision."
Rebecca grinned as she moved from in front of him. "That's the point!"
He hummed as he continued waving about in the open air. "I feel like those guards must once I poison them."
Shaun scoffed, leaning back in his chair.
"You look like one," Machiavelli said from beside the British man. "It's unusual to see our leader act in such a way."
Ezio scowled and turned to look in the direction the man was, but could not decide where he was. He cursed and lowered his arms: he had no idea which direction he was facing now.
"Perhaps you should ask for assistance, Ezio," Lucy said, and Ezio could swear he could hear the amusement in her voice.
"Or I could just do this," he growled, and hooked a finger under the blind fold, pulling it up just enough to see that Machiavelli within reach, his back to the assassin as he passed by. With a grin, he slapped the tail on him. As Machiavelli whirled around, mad, Ezio laughed.
"I win, sí? I have pinned the tail on the rightful ass."
Piñata
Leonardo beamed as he looked at his hanging art. The beautiful paper Mache eagle hung gracefully in the air above them all, and Rebecca was at the end of the rope, one hand firmly entwined in it. He and Shaun had worked all night on it. Machiavelli stood beneath it, looking up.
"Another of these so called 'traditions'?" he asked.
"Of course!" Rebecca said as Desmond walked out with the bat.
"Anything that has to do with art like this is worth a tradition!" Leonardo exclaimed.
"Yeah, too bad art is temporary," Desmond said as he swung the bat in a slow practice swing. "How tough will it be to break?"
"Pretty tough," Shaun said, leaning back in his chair. "You may as well just sod it for a game of soldiers."
Desmond raised an eyebrow at Shaun. "Fucking weirdo."
Shaun rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, smirking. Lucy came out with Altair, and Malik. Lucy held up the blindfold. Ezio backed up, waving his hands.
"No, I will not go first. Let Altair show us how God-like he is with his assassin's skills. Let him go first."
Lucy looked at him. "Well?"
Altair nodded. Desmond grinned as he rested the bat on his shoulder. "Victim number one, coming up!"
He spun Altair three times and put the bat in his hands, guiding it to show him the piñata. Altair nodded once and poised to strike, all his muscles tense, and Leonardo gasped.
"Are we really going to destroy it?"
Shaun chuckled. "I'm afraid so. But it will take more than one baseball swing to dent it. Remember how many layers we put on it?"
He bit his lip. Ezio walked over and kissed him.
"Do not worry, mio amore; we can always make another one."
Leonardo smiled warmly. "I suppose you are right!"
They watched as Altair swung, and right before it hit the piñata, Rebecca yanked the thing up and out of reach. As the bat hit empty air, Altair spun around, looking slightly irritated.
"I was right in line with it! Where did it go?"
Malik laughed. "Right in front of you, novice!"
Rebecca lowered the piñata, laughing. "He's right, Altair."
Altair lined up and tried again. They all cycled through their chance at hitting it, and Desmond was holding his sides as he laughed by the end of it. Leonardo had stubbornly refused to take part in the "barbaric" tradition, and Shaun was all too willing to swing—and miss by a long shot, hitting Desmond instead and dismissing it as an accident.
"Perhaps you'll twice about putting my Earl Grey tea bags into the toilet for your own Boston Tea Potty."
Finally, Malik stepped up.
"Let me try."
They tied the blindfold securely and spun him around three times. Desmond showed him to the piñata, and after a few moments, he wound up and swung, Rebecca pulled it up easily, grinning like a demon, but Malik didn't stop at the end of the swing. He continued in a graceful arc all the way around, releasing it the end. The others watched in amazement as it sailed through the air and struck the bird dead-on, resulting in an explosion of paper Mache fragments and candy. Malik wore a smirk as he pulled off the blindfold and turned to look at the others as it rain colorful treats.
"Never mess with a one-armed man."
Batter Up
Desmond couldn't help but laugh as they brought out the cake. In the center was a picture of Altair, Ezio, and Desmond playing Twister, with Ezio feeling Altair up and Desmond's face in Ezio's crotch, and the youngest assassin looked rather perturbed. Shaun was laughing like loon on the sidelines as Lucy spun the pointer. Leonardo looked rather put-off by Ezio's antics.
All around the edges was bright blue icing, and the sides of the cake were bright green. Altair grimaced awhen he saw it, and he stepped back a few paces.
"Oh, come on Altair, you're not still mad about the cupcake war from all that time ago?" Desmond said.
"How did that picture get on there?" Ezio asked, leaning in.
Rebecca laughed once. "They steal the memory from your mind and laser it into the cake."
Leonardo looked horrified.
"They do not," Desmond said, frowning at Leonardo's horror. "We give them a copy of the picture, and they use colors and lasers to put it in. It's all edible."
"And these colors won't kill us?" Machiavelli asked. "They look absolutely reviling."
"American tradition!" Rebecca laughed.
"Don't dart frogs color themselves like that to ward off predators?" he deadpanned.
"How in Hell's name do you know about poison dart frogs?" Rebecca quirked an eyebrow.
"I lent him my laptop," Shaun said.
Lucy stepped back as her, Shaun, and Rebecca all started to sing happy birthday to the three assassins. Shaun was standing near Desmond, with Rebecca on his other side, and Lucy was in between Ezio and Altair. Malik and Leonardo were by their assassins, eyeing the cake warily.
When they finished singing, Shaun shoved Desmond's head down and into the cake before he could protest, and Desmond immediately retaliated by grabbing some and slinging it behind him as Shaun rubbed his face in the cake. When he finally got up, he saw the cake had hit Rebecca, who had grabbed the lump and was about to shove it into his shirt when he blocked the hand. It flung forward and landed on Malik, who struck back as Desmond tried to wipe some of the icing off with a swipe of his arm and ended up only smearing it down his neck and upper chest and shirt.
Shaun decided that birthday cake never tasted so good that night when he retired with Desmond to their bed after cleaning the kitchen.
Proper Birthday Attire
Shaun, Altair, Malik, Machiavelli, and Leonardo were all lounging around in the early hours of morning, waiting for Ezio to wake up so they could wish him a happy birthday. Shaun was enjoying his tea; Altair and Malik were arguing with each other; Machiavelli was writing—of which, Shaun planned to steal later because "Blimey, it was written by Niccolo Machiavelli," and Leonardo was thoroughly absorbed in drawing in a sketchbook—of which, Shaun planned to also steal later because "Blimey, it was drawn by Leonardo da Vinci."
He didn't notice when Altair and Malik stopped their soft bickering, or hear Shaun spit out his tea. He did notice when Ezio forced him to look up.
"Mio amore," he whispered, his voice deep and sultry, "you left the bed much too early this morning."
"Mi dispiac—discp—Mio dio, Ezio, why are wearing—what are you!"
Ezio chuckled, a deep, low rumble in his chest. He couldn't help how adorable his artist looked when he was so embarrassed and blushed and just damn adorable. He kissed him, slowly and languidly, and then pulled back.
"Do you like my outfit? Desmond recommended it."
"E—Ezio!"
"I like it. My birthday suit looks good, doesn't it? Now come back to bed so you can properly admire it."
^3^ Happy birthday anon on pt. 2 pg. 31. I hope this was as much fun to read as it was to write!
Although, I must admit, I'd love to write another serious story. I just need an idea. :D
