A/N: There isn't enough of this couple around. I had to write something!
Ah, I wasn't sure where this would take place in the timeline. Probably just before Ezio left for Cappadocia, since there could be some events in there to bring them closer.
Correct my Italian! I'm writing this with no internet access so I don't have a translator other than my own brain. …and a tiny phrase book.
Yes, I think Ezio would act like a teenager when it came to women, even when middle-aged. Okay, slightly more suave and experienced.
I'M SORRY THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE IS SO LONG.
Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed. If I did, part of the Brotherhood story would be seen by two hapless Borgia guards…
Sofia is not an easy person to startle, but when shadows play across the window just outside her little shop, she abandons her most recent book and lights another lamp, just in case.
Life had become strange since she'd met Ezio Auditore, the equally strange man of Firenze.
She kind of liked it.
But it did mean she had to become considerably more aware of her surroundings. She wasn't sure how he had done the things he had, retrieving the painting and packages, but the odd looks the Janissaries gave her sometimes were unnerving.
So when she heard a voice outside, she grabbed the letter opener from her desk.
"Sofia? Are you there? Sofia, it's me. Per favore, sono frio." Well, she knew that voice, however quiet it was.
She peeked through the curtains before opening the window a little. "What are you doing here, Ezio?"
He pushed up the window himself and folded his arms on the sill. "I was out for a walk."
"Do you make a point to visit random women at night?"
"I never said it was random." He smirked, looking too similar to a teenager. "I was bored and needed a decent conversation."
"So you usually consort with indecent people?" She said, leaning against the window frame. It was a bit cool, she noted, without her usual, heavy dress. Now she simply wore a nightdress, though it was just as conservative.
"…that's not what I meant." And then he smiled broadly, eyes clouded with nostalgia. It was the only sign of his age, and it was gone in an instant. He looked up at her, "May I come in?"
She smiled and shook her head, "Would you like me to open the door?"
"No, ma grazie." He said, and hopped into the bookshelf with a slight grunt.
…and immediately knocked over a stack of books.
"Ah…" He stared at the pile for a second before looking at her, shrugging with a sheepish smile, "Oops?"
She found herself laughing slightly, "It's fine; I needed to put those away anyway."
"Show me where they go. Poor yourself some wine and relax for a little while."
"Speaking of which, I'm glad I didn't leave the wine near the window like I'd originally planned. Old men might knock it over." Sofia said snidely, turning from Ezio.
"I am not old."
"Who knew you were so good with books?" Sofia said, taking another sip from her glass.
Ezio had ended up with more stacks of books and tomes, balanced on one foot and braced on another as he attempted to shelve a couple of others higher up.
"My brother always said I had a gift for reading…"
"Really?"
"Okay, he was talking about women, but…" He finally placed the books in their spots, settling back down on the floor. "I did my fair share of studying as well."
She set the glass down and stood, taking a few books from the stacks. "Here, the rest are easy."
"No more climbing?"
"No more climbing. Unless you have a bad back, too…"
"Give me those books."
She laughed again, sitting on the desk next to more stacks of books. "Beside those religious texts, please."
"The ones in Arabic or Greek?"
"…there isn't any Greek over there."
"Arabic it is, then." He said, finding the right shelf. It took little time to organize the books well enough –Sofia was slightly lacking in that department anyway—he found himself out of breath and sitting on some of the cushions in the corner.
Sofia handed him a glass of wine, settling down beside him. "I'm sorry; I should have just done that myself."
"It's fine. I'm over here because I couldn't sleep, so it doesn't matter anyway." He said, smiling.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned.
He hesitated. He could tell her that he had been injured and slept most of the day, trying to recover. He could tell her about how Yusuf had laughed and practically locked him in with a few recruits for the day. He could tell her about the sights, when he forgot the corpses and just looked at the skyline.
"Of course not, it's just the weather, I'm sure." He said, and took another gulp of wine.
They talked for a while, discussing bits and pieces from novels. Ezio had no problem sitting there, not understanding half of what she was saying but loving the look on her face when she said it. Sofia was absolutely fascinated with the subject.
Okay, he also had to admire her… other assets when she went to get a book to read him a passage.
But once she picked up a novel and studied the page for minute, looking thoroughly confused.
"This is by… Oh who is it?" She said, flipping through. "I've lost my touch; he wrote quite oddly and there are practically no collections of his work…"
"Let me take a look." He said, though he doubted he could do much.
He glanced at the page, clearly an anatomical diagram. After a moment, he realized it concerned bullet wounds, and…
"Leonardo da Vinci."
"Yes! That's the name. I do wonder where he found people willing to be models for this sort of thing." She said, taking the book back. Yes, his eyes might have lingered a little too long, but she was too engrossed in the design to notice.
Ezio muttered, "Oh, they aren't willing…"
"So these designs were amazing, but some of the information is incomplete…"
A few minutes later, she sat back down beside him, pointing to a page.
"Do you see what I mean about contemporary literature?"
"Of course."
"Well, what do you think?"
Oh, the question that haunts every man's nightmares.
"I think that is a very interesting point of view, but I haven't read enough to really… respond." The Assassin tried, hopeful.
She rolled her eyes. "No more wine."
He smiled and sighed. A few muscles in his back popped as he stood reluctantly. "I should probably get going. It's late and—"
A worried looked crossed her face as she moved to put the book away. "If people see you leave…"
"I was going to go out the window, but if you insist." He responded with a shrug.
She yawned, "Well, there's a spare bed in the back. It's not exactly orthodox, but it should be fine for a night."
"People give me odd looks anyway, it's fine."
When she woke up, he was gone.
Sofia walked through the too-quiet shop, occasionally touching books that she had moved the night before, and maps concerning the places of their discussion.
The bookkeeper smiled as she saw a warm cup of coffee sitting on her desk, and the open window let in a gentle breeze.