"—Baby goes over—! Be careful, Shaun!"

"I am being careful, Rebecca!"

"You got that light in place, Desmond?"

"Yup!"

Monteriggioni, Auditore Villa, Sanctuary.

Desmond grunted as he jumped down from the shelves, having secured the last light. He often wondered whether or not having Ezio's acrobatic skills bleed into him was such a great thing. Lucy and Shaun, especially, we're masterminds when it came to making him do something as dangerous as scale a ceiling, or maybe just something like swimming in medieval toxic waste ("You are not touching any of the sleeping bags until you stop stinking like a sewer," Shaun had quite firmly said).

He sighed, watching the busybodies set up their stations, his having been finished up long ago, given that all he had was his laptop. He fiddled with the hidden blade on his wrist, unable to stop himself from comparing it to Ezio's.

Ezio...

The last memory they had accessed was when Ezio had spoken to that... that Minerva woman. From there it was all pretty much a blur, from Vidic finding them to their escape to here, their current location.

Not that the ghosts had gotten any better, though.

"Desmond!"

He snapped back to reality, nearly jumping when he realized Lucy's sudden closeness to him (in front of his face).

"What?" he asked, keeping his voice level.

"You're coming with me. There's something else here with us."

His eyes narrowed at that, concentrating for a moment before he slipped into Eagle Vision. Scanning the area, he didn't find anything out of e ordinary (though he did have to rub his eyes when he thought he saw a Templar). Or at least, he hadn't seen anything until a set of footprints were made obvious near the statue of Iltani. He frowned.

"There's something here, alright," Desmond agreed, approaching the statue of the female Babylonian. He moved some equipment out of the way, continuing to look. He could see handprints, a trace of... blood...

Blood?

Turning off eagle vision revealed that it was, indeed, blood. Not recent by any means, but certainly not something from the 1500s.

"Someone's here," Lucy stated from behind him, obviously having the same idea. She peeked behind the statue, possibly to try and find something, but there was nothing. They both let out a breath neither of them realized they had been holding.

"H-Hey, you little—! Get back here with that!"

The two Assassin's spun around just in time to watch a blur zip past and up the stairs leading out of the Sanctuary. Desmond didn't hesitate a moment, already sprinting off after the intruder, following as best as he could. He navigated the stairs like an expert, coming up in time to watch the bookcase into Mario's study closing shut. He cursed swiftly, activating the thing up again and practically shoving the thing to get past, scanning around with eagle vision as he went out into the entrance room.

The thief spun around, though Desmond barely got a good look at him before a flash of golden light proceeded to assault his eyes, and he had to shield them out of instinct. He grunted as he was tackled, acting quickly and trying to throw the — surprisingly light — attacker off him and getting back to his feet, hidden blade out at the sound of a weapon being drawn, but faltering as he finally got a good look at their thief.

It was a boy, he told himself. A young boy, had to be no older than sixteen or so. His golden eyes were surprisingly bright and gold, reminding him distinctly of Altair's. His hair was blue — bright, sapphire blue hair — and...

And suddenly there was a bright flash of gold again as the kid leapt, catching Desmond off-guard once more as he struggled to deflect the weapon — a knife? — while trying not to get blinded.

There was a sudden, loud 'bang!', and the kid dropped easily enough, curled up and clutching his now-wounded shoulder. Desmond heaved out a sigh of relief, retracting the hidden blade as Lucy, Rebecca, and Shaun came up to him. He turned his own gaze onto the boy again, lips a tight line.

He had wings. Bright, golden wings that were uselessly limp on his back, flickering every-so-often.

"Sudeni okubyōmono no ore o korosu!" spat the downed boy, voice strained but fierce.

"Woah, wait. Is that Japanese?" Rebecca asked, her eyes wide before looking to their historian. "Shaun, any idea what he's saying?"

"Do I really look like I would, Rebecca?" the Englishman replied sarcastically. "I've been studying Renaissance Italy, not Japanese."

"Jigoku-e ochiro!"

"I do know that that wasn't very nice, however!"

"I think I might know him," Desmond blurted out. At the looks he was given, he quickly shook his head. "I mean, Ezio might've. There's just something familiar about him. And I might know what that—" He gestured to the wings on the boy. "—might be."

A sudden yell was all the warning they had before the boy launched himself at the group again, knocking both Shaun and Rebecca flat on their asses. Lucy's gun was knocked aside, forcing her into hand-to-hand while Desmond tried to go in for an opening. Lucy, too, however, was knocked aside, and that left Desmond stuck on the defensive, trying to keep back a flurry of quick, but well-aimed, strikes.

A leg swept under him, knocking him to the ground, but he managed to take the boy down with him. They wrestled on the ground for a moment before Desmond was able to take advantage of the injured shoulder, yanking it back and twisting the boy's arm behind his back. The young boy yelled from the pain, but stopped struggling once realizing there was very little he could move, since Desmond was practically forcing his weight on him — and those wings, dammit, burned, but who cared at this point.

The dark-haired man took a deep breath as the others approached.

"Calmati, vero?"

The simple statement was enough to cause the boy to falter, favouring a shocked, wide-eyed look.

"E-Ezio... ?"

The wings and light vanished, and Desmond slowly allowed himself to get off the boy and letting him sit up.

"Did he just call him Ezio?" Shaun asked. "When did Ezio even get a chance to meet someone from Japan?"

"It might be in a memory we haven't accessed yet," Lucy suggested. Shaun shot her an incredulous look, which she returned with a scowl. "What?"

"Japan did not make contact with anyone from the west until the sixteenth century! The year 1542, to be exact. And that was with Portugal, followed by the Netherlands, England, and Spain. There were missionaries for the Dominicans, Franciscans, and Jesuits, sure, but not once was there ever a record that Japan and Italy made contact before then. So tell me, when and how would this mysterious meeting happen?" The Englishman huffed, pointing a finger at the blue-haired boy on the ground, startling him. "We don't even know who this child IS. And he stole my bloody mobile, on top of it all!"

"Kisama no yubi o mochisare sore wa kowasu zo!" the young boy growled warningly, causing Shaun to groan in frustration, throw his hands up, and stalk back into the Sanctuary.

"If you need me, I'll be making sure the little thief didn't nick anything else of ours!" he called back before vanishing behind the bookcase.

Desmond exchanged looks with Lucy and Rebecca. The technician only side, saying something or another about going to help Shaun, leaving the remaining two Assassin's with the foreign boy, who was still glaring viciously at them — Lucy more than anything — while gripping his injured shoulder tightly.

"We'll look into who he is," the blond woman said with a small sigh, a grim look on her face. "I have a hunch, but it'll take some looking in."

"Alright." Desmond took a deep breath, opening his mouth to ask something, but hesitating. A glance to the young boy, he saw that he was finally starting to see some signs of exhaustion. Dark eyes looked back to Lucy, but she shook her head.

"It looks like he's only going to listen to you, for now. None of us know Japanese, but he apparently might know some Italian. See what you can do, but make it quick: the sun's going to come up soon."

"Got it."

And Lucy vanished into the Sanctuary as well.

Desmond signed, scratching his head before he knelt in front of the young boy, not surprised when he scrambled back. As much as he loathed to admit it, he had to be grateful for the Bleeding Effect in a time like this.

"Nani?" the blue-haired boy asked, but the American didn't say anything. Couldn't, really. He didn't know what he could possibly say that wouldn't be completely lost. He started first by reaching a hand out, placing it over the one the boy had squeezing the injured shoulder, meeting the venomous glare with a calm gaze.

"Calmati," he said again, and was once more graced with having the boy relax. A small smile tugged on his lips. "I guess you know what that means, huh?" Carefully, Desmond pried the boy's hands away to look at the bullet wound, hissing at the sight, but glad that at least Lucy had avoided a serious injury. 'Remind me not to piss her off,' he mentally noted.

"I-Il too-o n-nome?"

Desmond blinked. And blinked again. And then looked at the boy and stared, taking a moment to understand that he had indeed spoken some form of broken Italian. It was strange and heavily butchered by his accent, but it was enough to figure out what had been said using Ezio's knowledge.

"Ezio?" The boy frowned — Desmond noted the exhaustion was settling in a lot quicker now and briefly wonders how the boy hadn't passed out yet — as he seemed to be struggling with something. "Omae ga Ezio?"

"No," Desmond replied, shaking his head. He placed his free hand on his chest. "Desmond. Desmond Miles."

The young boy looked utterly confused. "D-Desu... mondu?"

"Desmond," he repeated, slower, more clearly. He groaned at the confusion so easily visible, holding his head in his hand. He looked up again after a moment...

... just in time for the boy to slump forward and pass out.

Desmond reacted easily enough, bracing the young boy against his body, able to shove the panic aside long enough to pick the boy up. A look at the shoulder, now thoroughly soaked, had him grimacing as maybe he underestimated the placement of the wound.

He gazed out at the crowds, rolling his shoulder back to ease some of the stiffness. He had taken to a spot up on a church, allowing Machiavelli time to get ahead while he tried to think up his next plan. Here in Roma, it was certainly going to be a task just to try and restore it to its former glory. With Mario gone, and Monteriggioni in ruins, he was all but broke.

He, Ezio Auditore.

He grimaced as the memories ran through his mind once more, but the Assassin quickly shook his head. It didn't surprise him that he worried for the safety of his family and friends, praying that Claudia, his mother, and Leonardo were all safe. He was going to end up stuck here for a while, after all.

Ezio heaved a sigh then got to his feet, recalling briefly that Machiavelli had said that he should start first by recruiting the courtesans of Roma. 'Well,' he thought, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he stepped out into public streets, 'that should be easy.'

Moving along the streets, in the crowds, was simple enough...

"Hey, you! Stop right there!"

... unless he happened to pass by that one gutsy group of guards willing to call him out on his style of dress.

"Per l'amore di... " (1)

He didn't hesitate in quickly scaling the nearest building and taking to the roof tops.

"Cazzo! He's getting away!"

A lot of jumping, dashing, leaping, and the like. These Roman guards were far quicker than any of the guards out near Firenze, but they were still not nearly as skilled in climbing as they should be. Even better was when he leapt off a ledge and into some hay, successfully managing to lose the bastardi.

'I will need to ask Machiavelli about places to avoid,' he noted to himself, sighing as he pulled himself out of the hay, dusting himself off. Readjusting his hood, he scanned his surroundings, blending into the crowds once more.

Ezio liked Roma, he decided. The Tevere was right there, and there wasn't such a bad smell. Granted, many of the buildings were in a poor state from being under the Borgia's careless power, but with some money and some renovations, he was sure he could get everything up and running again like in Monterrigioni.

He grimaced as the memories assaulted him, quickly shaking his head to clear the thoughts. Dwelling on the past would not help him, and he knew that. If anything, they would serve as a distraction and get him killed.

He made his way to the Rosa in Fiore, noting the rather rundown look. A knock on the door drew out a courtesan, who gave him one look before already smiling in that seductive way they all do.

"I wish to speak with Madonna Solari," he said, keeping his voice steady. The courtesan's face instantly changed, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"The Madonna is out," she explained. "If you want, I can—"

"Help! Aiuto! They've caught her!"

Ezio stepped out of the way, watching a distressed courtesan run into the arms of the one at the door, breathless and panicked.

"Hey, slow down, what's going on?" asked the first.

"They-They caught her!" replied the second. "T-Those pirates! And they won't let her go without the ransom!"

"Where is she?" Ezio asked. The two girls exchanged a look before the second looked back at him.

"At the docks, on a boat. They want 2000 florins before sundown."

He nodded, and without a second thought he set off on his way. He didn't exactly have the money, but that wasn't quite something he could share. Plus, he could simply pickpocket if need be, a task that had gotten far easier the more he'd practiced at it. Unfortunately, not a lot of people in Roma liked to carry a lot of cash, and so it took most of his afternoon just trying to get up enough cash. He was starting to get a irritated and cranky, and having the Borgia guards on him again didn't help.

He stumbled as someone bumped into him, throwing out curses and rounding on whoever it was, though the person in question was already fleeing the scene.

Fleeing...

...

"Really?" he exclaimed, startling just about everyone around him. "Questo è come il giorno sta per andare? Bene!" (2)

He made haste, running after the little thief, not even bothering to avoid people as he simply shoved whoever was stupid enough to get in his way (which, admittedly by this point, was very few). Where he was going he didn't know nor care, simply following the thief and finally catching up at the river.

He leaped, tackling the offender and startling the people around him. The thief struggled, yet Ezio managed to keep him pinned as he got a good look at the offender.

Young, for sure, and small. The garments vaguely resembled his own style of dress, save for the mask that kept the nose and mouth hidden, leaving only the eyes — bright, golden, eagle-like eyes — revealed. The boy was dressed in Venetian blue, reminding Ezio of the Venetian guards, though the hand wraps ('Hand wraps?' he questioned), many belts — around his waist and one across his torso from the left shoulder to right waist, and shawl were black as night. There were strange, star-shaped weapons attached to the belts along with knives, and a long, thing sword strapped to his waist.

To put it bluntly, Ezio hadn't a clue who or what this boy even was. And if he hadn't noticed the Assassin symbol on the hilt of his sword, he probably wouldn't have cared.

The fact remained, however, that this boy stole the 2000 florins he had worked so hard to get.

It was then that he realized the boy in question was yelling at him. The unfamiliarity of the language was enough to confirm that yes, he had no idea what he was saying, and people were beginning to stare.

"Hey, bastardo!" he interrupted quickly, and somehow that made the boy shut up, though he was glaring fiercely. Ezio glared right back. "I do not care what your reasons were as long as you simply return what you stole!"

"Watashi gesha, fuketsuna itarian!" was the swift, angry retort.

Today just really couldn't get any worse, could it?

A/N - No, there AREN'T any pairings. Yes, there IS Japanese. No, you won't translations for it. Yes, this is 100% un-beta'd. Fluent Italian and/or Japanese speakers would be lovely to correct any god-awful errors from Google Translate.

(1) -"You're kidding me... "

(2) - "This is really how this day is going to go? Fine!"