A/N: My very first fic...this should be interesting. I'm a fan of constructive criticism!

An unfamiliar wind blasted through my hiding place, ruffling my tangled bangs and startling me awake. I curled myself tighter and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to be here, wherever here was, I knew I didn't like it.

Dry air scorched my lungs and sand agitated my eyes. Alien sounds drifted in under the canvas flaps hiding me from the world and the world from me. The clinking of pots, the scuffling of thousands of feet and the obnoxious cries of merchants blended into a terrifying crescendo, muffling my heart's stumbling beats.

One sound rose above the others and as I slowly stretched my trembling limbs I chanced a quick peek over the wooden rim. The flap was pulled back and a white blur crashed down into my space. A calloused hand lashed out and smothered my startled gasp. I was pulled down onto the splintered boards of the floor. A disgruntled shout echoed from somewhere outside the box and answering yells quickly faded into nothingness.

Perhaps the white shadow's pursuers? The single hand of my captor still covered my mouth and I figured enough was enough. I shifted slightly and bit down with all my 14-year-old strength. The smell of leather and blood flooded my nostrils and I had captured a short moment of victory. It was ended abruptly when the stranger-I'm guessing male-hauled me out into the sunlight and threw me into the dirt.

I rolled to my feet and brought my hands up in the textbook style of defense. I blinked furiously against the sudden light and sand attacking my eyesight. One hand wiped away the grit and I saw the stranger clearly for the first time.

He was tall, wearing a white robe and had more knives strapped to him then I have fingers. Seeing this as problematic I adjusted my stance and watched him carefully while my mind reeled at the similarity of it all.

A hood covered his face and as he pulled one long blade from its sheath I stepped back and promptly tripped over an unforeseen obstacle. His sword was at my neck before the thoughts of standing again had ever entertained my slightly panicked mind.

"C'mon man, really!?" I yelped, raising my chin to avoid the deadly point.

"What are you?" The man spoke and his voice was shockingly similar.

"I don't get a 'who'? I-" I was silenced by increased pressure at my throat.

"You look to be a woman, but you don't dress, speak, act or look like any of the women I know of. So I'll ask again-what are you?" I noticed that in person he had a more threatening aura, I could almost taste it. Or that could be my lunch coming back up. Either seemed possible.

"Does that mean you know many women? Altair I'm shocked!" my tongue betrayed me again, as it usually does, and his sword drew blood.

"How do you know my name woman?" Altair growled.

"Not exactly a woman, see, I'm only 14. And I know your name 'cause…because…I do." I finished lamely. Cut me some slack though, how are you supposed to tell a guy that I come from a different...time, and that he's a character and that his life is a game!?

"Tell me." He said, clearly not satisfied.

"I…come from…America, and…um…its complicated. I guess you could say I'm from a different universe." What is this!? Star Trek!?

"America?" he tried the word but I knew he wanted more of an answer.

My mind froze when I registered the very real blood dribbling down my neck in a small trail and the stinging in my hands and elbows…pinch me, I'm dreaming. Somehow I went from safe home world to alternate universe, where game characters come to life. I was gonna die in this world and no one back home would know how I met my end. Talk about a buzz killer. I set aside my morbid thoughts of death and destruction and scrambled for an answer to Altair's question.

"Shoot…look, I kinda come from a different…world, and you're just gonna have to roll with that alright!?" I pleaded. Knocking my brain into high gear, trying to get him off my case. Altair seemed to be debating over killing me or sparing my life, I hoped he would settle with the latter.

"Why should I believe a crazy person?" Altair said instead.

"Hey, I ain't crazy."

"…You still haven't told me how you know my name."

"I know things."

"…"

"Fine. Don't believe me? Well, I know you and Malik are both assassins, he is a rafik though you just got demoted. And yeah, I even know why. You screwed up one big ass mission and Robert de Sable got away. Am I right?'

"…"

"Right. Malik loses his arm, Kadar dies, you get stabbed in the gut. Boom, game over, now you're fighting to get back your status." I stopped there, fearing I had gone to far, I always do.

"You know not of what you speak!" He hissed through clenched teeth. The sword point pressed deeper into my neck. I held my hands up, palms out, trying to convey that no harm was meant. After a long pause he sheathed his sword and I didn't bother hiding my sigh of relief.

"You betray me and then you die." He said, shrugging further into his hood. I rose to my feet and stuck my hands in my pockets. What was I supposed to say to the guy who just spared my life after threatening it in the first place?

"At least think before killing me, alright? I just might know how to help with your targets." The last bit of my sentence faded into quiet mumbles as my easily distracted brain noticed a little man in a pointy hat pulling what looked like an arrow from behind him and aiming it at…us. Shit.

"Dude." I whispered, pointing one finger over his shoulder at the lone figure. Faster than the eye can see, Altair twisted and speared the rooftop archer with a throwing knife. He straightened again and I just stared up at him. Yes, up, he is a tall guy.

I tried a sorry smile and held my hand up in a suggestion of peace.

"Truce?"

He continued to stare, no, glare at me. I fidgeted under his gaze until he whirled around and sprinted away, across thatched roofs and rickety arches.

"Keep up." He shouted back to me.

"Bite me!"

"You have got to be kidding me." I stated, leaning back to look at the minaret stretching above us.

"No." Altair replied, standing next to me.

You…you're a psycho, that's what you are."

"I am an assassin." He looked at me, confused, for a few brief seconds.

"Right." I said in a posh British accent. He ignored me and ran at the wall, climbing up the rock face like some deformed monkey. I sighed heavily and sat down to watch his quick progress up the tower. I had guessed long before that we were somewhere in Jerusalem and he was just beginning his search for the bureau. Malik's bureau in fact.

I located a nearby ladder and slid down to the street to wait for Altair by the haystack. I didn't have long to wait as he landed in the cart seconds later.

"The eagle has landed." I sang, laughing at him when he climbed out of the hay with straws sticking out of his uniform. He said nothing, as usual, and I followed him quietly.

Several minutes passed until he turned towards me and scrutinized my tall frame and I would say with more than a little curiosity.

"You never told me what you are." I glared at him stubbornly. "…Who you are." He finished instead.

"Je m'appelle Emma et je suis une fille." I stated grinning at his confused frown.

"Tu ne parle pas francais, oui?" I continued, smiling openly and laughing outright when his frown deepened.

"I don't understand." Altair said, looking like he wanted to cut my throat and be done with it.

"Of course not, but I said my name is Emma and I'm a girl, cause you didn't quite get that the first time round." I laughed some more and leaned against the wall of the alley we currently occupied.

"Hmm…can you climb?" He asked, which startled me somewhat but did nothing to dampen my smile.

"Sure I can." I said, almost a question.

"Then start climbing." He leaped at the wall and scampered up and out of my field of view.

"Yep, I'll take the easy way." I mumbled to myself, spying a ladder nearby.

I reached the roof and saw Altair standing on a patchwork wooden roof. I thought this must be the Jerusalem bureau. Malik is probably inside, working away at his maps. I scrambled up the rest of the ladder and jogged towards the assassin.

"What's up homedog" almost falling into the bureau but managing to catch Altair's elbow instead of falling through the hole. Surprisingly he didn't react to the contact or statement and continued to stare down at the floor.

"The sky." He mumbled and I gaped incredulously at his back as he dropped down into the room. I fell down not long after and followed him into the next room.

"That sounded like a joke, was that a joke Altair? Dude!?" I called after him but stopped suddenly when I noticed that two pairs of eyes had me locked in their sights.

"Altair. Who is the girl." No. Fucking. Way. None other than Malik A-Sayf stood behind the waist-high desk and glaring daggers at his guests.

"I found her on a roof while being chased by guards. Keeping her alive seemed like the best course of action." Altair explained, I thought a bit emotionlessly.

Malik huffed and continued with his map. "I assume Al Mualim sent you for a mission Altair."

"I seek the life of Talal. How can I find him." He said in the same monotone voice as before.

Malik huffed a few more times and turned away from us to face the bookshelf behind him and looked to be searching for a book among the scattered tomes. Eventually he turned back to us and rattled off the certain places where Altair might find the information he needs. With one lasting insult he returned to his maps and Altair left the small room.

Only ever seeing them arguing in the game, the real life version was like sugar to a diabetic. Too damn good.

A/N: So, should I continue?