Esperwen- Kink meme prompted for a fic about Assassin's Creed boys in a band. 8D Being a groupie, I obliged.
Check out the YouTube vid the prompter was inspired by: watch?v=580-DVCAFWU
Getting the band together
It was time.
The man was downtown, waiting. He stood in an alley across the street that night, leaning against one of its scummy walls as he watched people trickling out of the building. They were heading home for a few hours' sleep, to prepare for the rat race the next day would bring. Silently, the man waited in the shadows, unseen and undisturbed; he had never enjoyed being around people, and that night was no exception.
So many customers... he thought to himself, pretending to adjust his hood so he could hide his face from a couple walking by, He's been doing well.
He ignored the hushed whispers as the man and woman passed him; they were of no consequence. He was there for the bartender. Finally, his patience paid off. The man saw the neon sign that displayed the bar's name, "The Farm," flicker out. He smirked to himself, then straightened up and strode across the road.
It was time.
...::...
"...ah, crap..."
Desmond groaned when he saw the mess in one of the booths in his bar. He was so ready to lock up and go home, too...
"What? What's wrong?"
The bartender gave his top waitress a tired smile as she walked up to him. He was glad she'd been on shift that night to help him close the Farm; just looking at the beautiful girl made him feel a little better.
"Oh, the usual," he answered, gesturing towards the booth with one hand, "Somebody threw up and didn't tell anyone about it."
"Ugh. Gross," Lucy wrinkled her nose, stopping where she was before she got any closer, "...I'll grab the mop, then?"
"Yeah. Thanks," Desmond sighed with a nod, and he moved to wipe off the rest of the tables while he waited.
Man, I am exhausted, he thought to himself, his body on autopilot as he cleaned, I just wanna go home, get some sleep...I really hope nothing else happens, tonight...
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh! Desmond, hel...!"
Desmond's eyes widened at how Lucy's scream cut off, and without another thought, he dropped the rag in his hand and sprinted towards the back of the bar. The blonde wasn't the type of woman to scare easily; whatever caused a blood-curdling scream like that must definitely be serious! She had to be in trouble.
He ran full tilt through the door behind the bar, towards where he knew the broom closet was, and when he rounded the corner, he saw Lucy struggling with a hooded stranger. The tall man was holding her from behind, his hand over her mouth; that was probably the reason why her cry for help had ended so abruptly. Instinctively, Desmond ran even faster to her aid, and with a wordless yell he tackled the intruder, somehow managing to get him to let go of Lucy in the process. But to the bartender's chagrin, the stranger didn't fall to the floor like he had hoped.
"Holy shit!" Desmond yelled, when he found himself flying through the air, only to crash unceremoniously against the far wall, Sonuvabitch freakin' threw me!
Scrambling to his feet, Desmond saw Lucy try to run back to the bar, probably to get to the phone behind the counter and call for help. But the man in the hoodie was too fast; in an instant, he had caught up to Lucy, Grabbing her arm, and putting a hand on her waist, the intruder propelled her towards the other end of the hall, causing her to stumble a few steps before overbalancing and falling in a heap in the dead end where Desmond was.
"Shit!" Lucy exclaimed, as Desmond quickly helped her up.
"Are you ok?" he asked her in a low voice, concerned but never taking his eyes off the stranger.
"I'm fine," Lucy nodded, brushing her off before nodding to the man who was blocking their only way out, "What do we do about him?"
"I say we rush him," was Desmond's first thought.
"Wait."
The bartender and waitress froze at the stranger's command. His voice wasn't rough, or even menacing, like they'd expected. His voice was a low baritone, clear but authoritative, somehow. His word had sounded more like a leader's advice, than a thug's command.
And somehow, he'd sounded familiar, to Desmond.
When the man was sure that the two of them were watching, he raised his hands as if he were surrendering to them. Then he moved his right hand, keeping his left held up for them to see, while pulling his deep hood down to reveal his face.
He hadn't needed to do the latter, though. Desmond had already noted the missing ring finger.
"Shit! Altair?"
The man's scarred mouth curved into a smile as he uttered his unique greeting, "Safety and peace, Desmond."
The younger man's expression changed from wary to delighted, and he hurried down to give Altair the biggest bear hug he could manage. Lucy blinked as she watched them; had she not known better, she would have thought the two of them were twins, right down to the scars on their lower lips. Or, at least brothers; the man who had attacked her seemed older than her employer.
"Oh, c'mere, you!" Desmond laughed when Altair only relaxed fractionally to return the embrace, "F*ck, why'd you have to break into my bar? How many times to I have to tell you: call me when you're in town! Lucy!" he released Altair to wave to his bewildered employee, "Lucy, this is my cousin, Altair! I haven't seen him in months! You've really never met him? Oh, right, he only visits at my apartment; I forgot."
"Um...hi," Lucy's wave was cautious, not really sure what to do with the sudden change of mood, "Uh...I hate to dwell on things, but he jumped me. In the broom closet."
"Hey, yeah, what's a-matta you, Altair?" Desmond exclaimed, punching his cousin lightly on the shoulder, "You freaked my friend out!"
"I did not jump her," Altair muttered, rolling his eyes, "She misunderstood."
"He was lurking in the closet!" Lucy raised her hands, exasperated, "I opened the door, and there he was, standing in the dark! And then he attacked me!"
Desmond gave Altair a questioning look, which the Arab could only meet for a second before turning away. It took Desmond a moment, but, knowing his cousin, he hazarded a guess.
"...you made a wrong turn and ended up locked in the closet, didn't you?" he asked gently, knowing that he hated getting his ego bruised.
The frazzled way Altair ran his fingers through his short hair and avoided Desmond's eyes was answer enough. The bartender had to grin; his cousin was tall and menacing, but at the core he was a bit of an absentminded dork. It didn't help that Altair was too proud to ever admit it and ask for help, either.
"...oh," Lucy covered her mouth to hide an amused smile.
"That...that isn't what I came here to talk about!" Altair snapped, hating being caught vulnerable, "I'm here to speak to you about something important, cousin," he looked at Lucy pointedly "In private."
"Rude," Lucy sniffed, but still smiling a little at him. After seeing him almost blush, the man seemed only half as intimidating as when he almost got her into a half-nelson. For a moment, she and Altair continued eyeing each other, waiting for the other to make a move.
"Luce..." Desmond sent her a sidelong glance, "Please? This'll probably only take a minute."
The woman suppressed a sigh, then nodded, ignoring the triumphant look Altair was sending her.
"All right, I'll go," she agreed with a shrug, "You're the boss!"
Desmond had to chuckle, at that. He might own and manage the place, but it was Lucy who had taught him how to run things when he'd first opened the bar five years ago. And it was Lucy who came to the rescue whenever Desmond found his expenditures were going to run the bar into the ground (which was more often than he would like to admit). If anyone was boss, it was her.
Cautiously, Lucy walked around the two men, choosing to edge around Desmond's side of the hall. Neither she nor Altair took their eyes off the other; clearly, they still had trust issues with each other. When she had gone around the corner and out of sight, Desmond punched Altair in the shoulder again, but this time with enough force to cause the Arab to grunt and throw a questioning glare at him.
"She's my friend. You don't get to treat her like that," Desmond scolded, "Lucy doesn't freak out easy, but you made her scream. Never do that again."
Altair's eyes softened a little, hearing his little cousin speak like that. For one thing, it reminded him of when they were little; Desmond, while being the youngest, had always been the one to try to teach Altair social graces (not that it had worked). For another, he'd caught a certain tone in the way Desmond had said Lucy's name.
"Has the littlest one developed feelings for this...Lucy?" he asked, a dry smile on his lips to mask the sincerity of his question.
Desmond tried to give Altair an irritated look, but he didn't quite succeed. The expression melted into a more tender one before Altair even felt two heartbeats.
"...She's important to me, ok?" Desmond said quietly, by way of dodging the question, then said in a stronger tone, "Now, what's so important that you had to trespass onto my property to tell me?"
Altair smirked, making a mental note to keep an eye on the waitress. He would have to see if she was worthy of his favourite cousin's affections.
"It's time, Desmond," he said, reaching into the back pocket of his black jeans and pulling out a calling card, "I think we're ready."
"Yeah? You've finally found someone worthy?" Desmond asked, not quite sarcastically.
With a nod, Altair offered the card to Desmond. He took it, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the words "Assassin's Creed" typed in big letters at the top. Below that was a logo like an incomplete teardrop or an arrowhead, and then four member names were listed, only one of which Desmond didn't recognize.
"Shit...You did find someone!" Desmond breathed, his eyes almost sparkling as he looked up at his cousin, "You're finally gonna start your band!"
It had been their boyhood dream to start their own rock band; not only Desmond and Altair, but also their other cousin, Ezio, and Altair's long-time best friend, Malik. As kids, they had fooled around with every piano or guitar that they could get their hands on, or sang at the top of their lungs with the radio when it played any song that they knew. The youngest, Desmond, could never get the right notes or feel the beat, but he had promised to find a place where they would always have a chance to perform; a promise he had already followed through with. As teens, they slaved at boring part-time jobs to buy their own instruments, and spent hours honing their skills. There had been some barriers to overcome in their most recent years, such as being forced by their parents to "get into college so they could find a real job," as well as other...incidents that had slowed them down. But now...
"It really is time!" Desmond whispered excitedly, a grin spreading across his face, "This is really gonna happen!"
Altair gave his cousin's fanboy attitude a slightly bored look before pointing to the calling card again. Desmond raised an eyebrow when he obeyed. There was still a slot to be filled, at the bottom.
For information, contact _.
"All we need is an agent, and we can begin," Altair said, crossing his arms before leaning towards Desmond confidentially, "I was hoping you could do it."
"Me? Oh..." the bartender scratched the back of his head, "...I don't know, man..."
"Really?" Altair scoffed at that, "You know how to run a business; you can manage Assassin's Creed. I thought you wanted this, too."
"Altair, I do, but managing the Farm takes my full effort" the bartender protested, "I can't handle anything else!"
The slightly taller man frowned at that and started to say something else, but at that moment their conversation was interrupted by a voice down the hall.
"Desmond?"
Both the men turned around at the sound of Lucy's voice. She had just turned the corner and come into view, a man with a loose ponytail following right behind her.
"...But I think I know who could," Desmond said quietly, just loud enough that only Altair could hear him.
"Hey, Desmond, that Italian model that I keep saying looks just like you is here," she said as she walked towards them, motioning to the newcomer, "And I'm assuming he's your cousin, too, because he even has the scar..."
Lucy's voice trailed off when she noticed Desmond and Altair share a look, before Desmond gave her his most charming smile and Altair somehow crossed his arms tighter and turned away. That smile was suspiciously familiar...
"Wait, Desmond, why are you looking at me like that? ...are we going bankrupt, again?"
Esperwen- It was just supposed to be a stupid one-shot. But then I thought of a backstory. And then I killed some people. And then I thought about blackmail photos and Lucy/Desmond. And then GAAAAAH.