Altair groaned, dropping his head into his hands. It was another cold, cold day with snow on the ground, getting onto his new Italian shoes an in turn onto Maria's carpeting.

He would get an earful for it later.

He took off his tie, throwing it onto the bed with his suit jacket next.

He continued to strip before changing into a much more comfortable white sweatshirt and grey slacks. Working with the CIA was great and all, but the dress code was tiresome. He usually ended up only wearing the same suit a couple times before Maria came to him, holding the outfit up to show him that it had been mutilated by a random crayon or leftover candy one of the kids had stashed in their pockets before Maria put them through the wash.

Throwing it into the hamper beside the door, he wondered absentmindedly just how long this one was going to last.

Avoiding the wet footsteps he had made through the hall, he hugged the wall, moving back down the stairs and into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from beside the Sunny D and leaned against the counter, sipping it as he looked around.

The kitchen was normal; dishes threatening to pile up in the sink, the garbage bin had a child proof mechanism to ensure no more experiments regarding the neighbors cat occurred within it, and a washcloth sat, dejected, on the counter beside the stove.

Altair picked it up, slinging it across the faucet where it hung, just as dejectedly.

He moved to the living room, sitting on the couch. In that same split second, he winced and reached underneath him to pull the army man out from between his butt and the cushions.

He looked at it, and shook his head before tossing it into the toy bin beside the television. He stopped, and listened suddenly.

It was silent.

Silence was not a good thing when you have a 6 year old and a toddler.

"Maria?" No answer.

"Maria?" Again, his calls were ignored. Paranoia brought on by putting so many crooks behind bars crept into his brain. He was just about to get up when he heard the back sliding door open, noise immediately filling the two story home.

"Ezio don't run in the house, I said!" Maria was saying, trying to be heard over the yelling.

"RUN LEONARDO! I'M GOING TO GET YOU!"

"No you won't!"

"Will to!"

"Won't!"

"Will!"

"Watch out for-"

A shrill cry of a baby added to Ezio and Leonardo's rough housing.

"You knocked Desmond over!" Maria was saying, but Ezio and Leonardo weren't listening, because they were currently playing tag, yelling and screaming as they ran in circles around the couch.

"Got you!" Altair reached out and grabbed Ezio, who squealed and yelled in surprise and laughter.

"Papa! Papa no!" He squealed, as Altair dug his fingers into his ribcage, tickling him. Leonardo laughed at his friend, but was soon on the floor beside him as Altair ensnared him as well, ticking the pair of boys until they were yelling for Maria to save them.

"Altair you'll tickle them into oblivion."

Altair looked up, and grinned. Maria stood in the doorway from the kitchen, holding his other son. Desmond's forehead was red, and he had a slight scratch, but other than the tear stains on his face he was fine, happily sucking on a soother.

Altair stood, but quickly kept the boys from running away.

"Listen to your mother. No running in the house. Now you two go and take your coats and shoes off, you're getting snow everywhere." he said, and Ezio nodded. He let go of the boys' shirts, blinked, and they were gone. He shook his head, sighing.

"Like a bolts of lightning, those two." he grinned, hugging Maria and making a Desmond-sandwich. Maria chuckled, and kissed him, grinning.

"I don't know who Leonardo gets it from, both of his parents are desk job workers. But Ezio gets it from you, love. Able to go from here to there and back again without any trouble at all." Altair chuckled. He supposed Ezio did get a fair lot of that energy from him.

"Pa! Pa!" Altair looked down at his second son.

"Hello, Des. Did Ezio give you an owie?" He asked, taking the small boy from Maria's arms as she went back into the kitchen.

The soother now hanging from a strip of cloth pinned to his overalls, Desmond put a hand on his head.

"Owie." Altair smiled. He was getting better with his words everyday. He would have to start watching his language around the house. Ezio was enough of a parrot, but Desmond was much, much worse.

"Yes, owie. Did mommy kiss it better for you?"

"Ya. Owie. Bet-rr." He tried to copy the unfamiliar word, and Altair laughed at the interpretation.

"That's good. How about we watch some TV, hmm?"

Desmond and Altair watched three episodes of 'Barney' until Altair was sure his brains were going to start deteriorating. Desmond, of course, was having a blast, but there was only so much of the stupid purple dinosaur that a man could take.

So he was very, very thankful when Maria appeared in the door again, announcing supper.

It was a usual to have Leonardo eat with them often, because both of his parents worked late. Most of the time, he had to have a couple sleepovers in a row, on the request of his parents. Not that Altair or Maria minded, really, he was a joy to have over and was Ezio's best friend. They had never really met the Da Vinci's past the phone calls and brief pleasantries that were exchanged on occasion. They were good people (Altair had a background check run on them after Leonardo's fifth sleepover in a row. You couldn't be too careful, could you?), but apparently just very busy.

Tonight was another one of those nights, he thought, as he helped Maria get Leonardo and Ezio settled in Ezio's (they might as well just call it Ezio and Leonardo's room, now.) room, with Leonardo sleeping on the bottom bunk, Ezio on the top. Altair didn't see why the boys even bothered getting into different bunks; they always seemed to end up snuggled in one together, picture books, games, whatever they had schemed to stay up past bedtime doing forgotten as it was kicked to the end of the bed.

Desmond was easier. Altair just gave him his bottle, those brown eyes disappearing slowly until the little one was fully asleep before he was put in the nursery.

Altair and Maria had a routine, as well. Maria brushed her teeth, washed her face and changed, then Altair used the bathroom for his own devices. Then, he helped Maria take her bedclothes off again, causing her to get up and retrieve them from the end of the bed again a while later.

He would smirk when she sometimes held the garment up, revealing a tear or hole of some kind that wasn't there before he had got his hands on it.

"Collateral damage."

But sometimes her nightclothes got to stay in one piece. On these nights, they talked, or read, or just went to sleep early. Tonight, they talked.

"My maternity leave ends next month." She said, and Altair nodded slowly. They would have to start interviewing babysitters, then. Maria worked on the local police force, one of the best they had. Many of their family friends worked the same branch, or were in his branch. Either way, he knew that his family would always have good role models, no matter who they looked up to.

Personally, he was inclined to think he was a bit better than the rest of them. Role model wise.

The next morning was an early one, as always. He rose at four, got ready in 45 minutes, and was out the door by five. He worked until 5:30 on most days, then he went home to his family (+his 'third son', Leonardo.)

Lather, rinse, repeat.

I do not own Assassin's Creed! I just wanted to play with this idea a little. it popped into my head one day as I was browsing pictures on DA, of Altair and Maria, modern day, with Ezio and Desmond for children (and Leonardo thrown in for some fun.) Please tell me what you think?