A/N: As it says in the summary, this is the sequel to The Cost of a Codex Page. I wasn't going to make a sequel, but susiekitten gave me an idea I liked.

…

Leonardo is distracted as he works on his latest page, taking at least twice the time he would've normally. He refuses to see the blame as his, though—whenever his encounters a difficult word or passage his mind immediately wanders back to that wonderful, wonderful kiss, to Ezio's warm lips, hands, tongue…

And he's doing it again.

It feels the slightest bit pathetic, daydreaming about the assassin like this. But, for what it's worth, he makes his living on dreaming. He relies on dreaming for nearly everything. How long had he dreamed about this…

Before he slips into another relapse of Ezio-centered thoughts he decides to take a walk to clear his head. As a last-minute thought he grabs the page, in case he happens to run into Ezio. God, he hopes so. While there's a small thought at the back of his mind telling him that, perhaps, meeting the assassin in public may not be the best idea, he's too excited at the prospect to care.

With that he hurries out of the workshop, his red cape fluttering gracefully behind him. He makes his way up to Ponte di Rialto first, pausing to watch a flock of birds in flight, or the way water flows around gondolas under the large bridge. His hands itch to make some sketches but, having left his pad at home he just opts to keep moving.

Before long he finds himself at the dock where he and Ezio had landed after their journey from Forlì. The memory of the wooden doll from that day makes him smile, and this time he has the money to buy it. Figure in hand, he strolls along the marketplace. Minstrels with their lutes stand at every corner and pillar, belting out their cacophonous, cringe-worthy "songs". It wouldn't take much to turn them into an organized chorus of sound, but Leonardo keeps moving.

As the day goes on he sees a lot, logging away ideas and inspiration for projects he can work on later, but he's on his way home now. Venezia is beautiful at this time of day; the sun hasn't quite set yet, casting a red tint over the city, and the lamps shine a soft amber down the streets and pathways. The shadows come in shades of blues and burgundies, and Leonardo gets the distant urge to settle down and paint it all.

When he reaches to open the door to his workshop his fingers uncurl from the codex page he's been holding all day. It occurs to him that he hasn't seen hide nor hair of Ezio all day, and while he's glad the assassino has kept himself out of the announcements of the heralds, he doesn't like that he hasn't seen the younger man all day.

Ezio wouldn't leave Venezia without him, would he? Or, at least without letting him know? A cold sense of dread settles heavily into the pit of his stomach, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. Perhaps… perhaps that kiss had just been something to cheer him up, to get his mind off of the painting that he still has yet to finish. Ezio makes a hobby of running through lovers; what if Leonardo is just another meaningless kiss?

Head hung and heartbroken, he wanders about the shop by memory, placing the page and figurine on the table, passing the table where his unfinished painting lay, just barely skirting the worktable where other commissions were beginning to pile up—until he walks right into a warm chest.

He looks up, eyes watery, mouth still slightly turned down, brows scrunched into an expression of fearful sadness, into the smiling face of Ezio Auditore, a smiling face that quickly shifts to one of worry and concern.

"What's the matter?" he asks, taking Leonardo's face into his warm, dry hands.

Leonardo opens his mouth to speak, but no words come. Now, standing before Ezio, all his worries seemed so needless and unfounded and just so stupid. He takes in a breath that shakes and is about to apologize, but all the pent up worry and disappointment and fear breaks, along with the first tears of what promise to be many.

Ezio is even more worried now, as he pulls Leonardo into a firm, reassuring hug. What on earth has the gall to make Leonardo—his Leonardo—cry?

They stand there for neither knows how long, Leonardo crying out of frustration, and Ezio thinking murderous thoughts to whomever had caused it. When the tears dry up and the artist is left sniffling, Ezio holds him out at arm's length to ask, "Leo, what's caused you such grief?"

Leonardo smiles through the tear tracks on his cheeks. "Non importa," he murmurs, shaking his head. "I was worried about something when I had no need to be."

"You're sure?" Ezio asks, ochre eyes still a bit concerned.

"Sì." The artist sounds more confident this time, his fears subsided. "I finished the page earlier today and wanted to give it to you, but I couldn't find you anywhere. I thought… I thought you had left Venezia. But this is a big city, and I worry too much."

"Leonardo," Ezio sighs, pulling him back into an embrace. "I won't leave you, you're very dear to me. Actually, I was at Santa Maria della Visitazione, and I brought you a present."

He pulls a large stone disk out of his robes and places it on the table. Leonardo, having forgotten his episode, is on it immediately. "How exciting!"

Ezio crosses his arms with a chuckle, watching Leonardo fawn over the seal. God, he's just so adorable…