Nothing much to say, except that so far, this story will stay friendship. The deadline for voting is 1st. February.

Thanks to all the readers and reviewers. You make me happy :) Have fun!

Altair was lying on the ground, when Malik came into the TV- corner to wake him the next morning. Apparently he'd gathered the pillows from both the kitchen-chairs and the old worn out couch, arranged them in a pile and proceeded to sleep on the floor on top of them. It was a rather pathetic sight, considering that there were only four pillows, but it seemed to be comfortable enough. Malik sighed. They planned to go into the university library today to search for information on the 'apple'. He'd checked the internet for information, but he didn't really find anything. Most 'apples' were either sculptures or power symbols owned by former kingdoms. Adding 'time travel' to the mix proved even less useful, as it only led to rants from conspiracy nuts. The only useful link had been a museum in another city that hosted an exhibition with ancient objects and had something that looked at least similar. Still, if they wanted to visit it, they would have to drive for at least a day and that was something Malik really didn't want to do, while Altair was still confused by about half of the objects around him.

But now, it was time to get going. "Hey, wake up, lazy!" Malik said. Altair slept. "Hey, can you hear me? Get up!", he repeated, louder this time. Altair turned around, but continued sleeping. Malik yawned. Then he started nudging Altair's side with his foot. "Get up", he mumbled "Get up, get up, get up!" Altair started to wind and grunt quietly. He sat up and blinked lazily. Malik huffed:" You're quite hard to wake you know that? Also you could have slept on the couch. I kind of expected you to, but..." "Actually this is the first night here, where I didn't wake up. You have nice pillows." Malik put his hands in his pockets. 'Well' he thought 'that makes sense, cities are loud. I couldn't sleep with the noises.'

He sighed: "The city never sleeps..." "It's not the noises." Altair said. "your cities are weird. Where I come from you can sleep wherever you want. Well except for the roofs. But here, these strange guards will pick you up and..." Malik grabbed Altair by the collar " You've been caught by the police?!" Altair looked shocked:"No I never got caught! That's what I was talking about. You'll need to sleep with one eye open or they'll get you!" Malik let go of his collar and sighed relieved." Why is it so important that they don't catch me? I though they kill you like normal city guards, but that wouldn't frighten you.", Altair said while standing up.

Malik rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and then pinched his nose. He'd been wrong. He'd thought the biggest threat was the man himself, but in reality the fact that Altair didn't have an ID was way worse. Both of them would be in big trouble when found out. After all, Altair wasn't registered anywhere. Nobody knew that he existed and while objects with strange powers were not unheard of, time travel certainly was. If the authorities found out, Malik would have lived a normal life for the longest time and god knew which division of the state would want to analyze Altair's "accident" first. He was an illegal immigrant, with blood on his one hand and a dark secret in the other. And Malik was the one helping him. The threat he'd spoken so carelessly last evening was very real. He'd dragged himself into a mess much bigger than he at first expected.

Altair was looking at him, concern written all over his face. "Tell me.", he demanded. Malik straightened. " The guards are called police. I assume you remember our little dispute from yesterday." Altair's face went stiff in a matter of seconds:"yes." Malik smiled weakly. Nobody liked to be reminded of their powerlessness. "Now that you live with me, I'll face consequences too if you get caught." Altair's face fell back into its neutral state. " Don't worry it won't happen. But stop pulling at me." Malik scoffed. "sorry about that, I get angry pretty easily."

Later, Malik was trimming his beard in the bathroom when Altair came in with a knife in his hand. "Whoa! Stop right there!", he barked. But Altair wasn't moving anyway. He let the knife in his hand vanish. Malik took a closer look and realized that it was a blade integrated into the bracer, controlled by a ring on the pinkie and a sturdy leather strap leading from the casing to said ring. The mechanism seemed fairly complicated and Malik would have loved to take a closer look, but it was attached to a man who had made it very clear that he didn't want his things taken.

Altair stared at the electric razor Malik had used to trim his beard. "How does it work?", he asked. "Electricity", Malik answered. "What is that?" "Too complicated to explain right now. What did you want here anyway?" "Shave", was the answer. Malik started to laugh: What? With that knife of yours? How is that supposed to work?" Altair frowned. Then he stepped next to Malik and unsheathed the blade. "The same way it worked every morning since I came here.", he murmured, and brought the blade to his face. Malik stood behind him with his arms folded, trying really hard not to 'accidentely' push his new flat mate. Altair cut himself without his 'help' anyway. After the third time, Malik face-palmed and held out the electric razor. "Just use this. It'll be quicker and you won't bleed all over my sink."

Altair frowned. He was contemplating if not cutting himself was worth admitting defeat. Malik started to snicker, his new companion was apparently very strict in his principles and proud to the point of stupidity. Altair's frown deepened into an angry snarl. He grabbed the razor, while mumbling into his nonexistent beard that "it did work" and "he just took it to be done faster!" A few minutes later, his face was cleanly shaved and the cuts had stopped bleeding, but his hair still looked like a mix between a hedgehog and a birds nest. Malik's too large shirt hung from his smaller shoulders and the borrowed pants where both too wide and too short. Malik folded his arms over his chest. "You know, if you are going to live among normal people now, you are going to need some clothes. And a haircut."

Somehow, this seemed to upset his flat mate. "I don't like your clothing. It reveals too much." Malik was dumbfounded. "How? I mean yeah, women walk around with more revealing clothing, but men's clothing isn't too different from yours..." Altair stared to walk out of the bathroom. Malik followed. "Yes it is. Everyone here wears special clothing. Look at your robe. It is bright blue and has birds on it. And the sleeve is pinned. You could be recognized very easily. Not to mention that nothing covers your head."

Malik tried to read the others expression. He looked like this was really causing him discomfort. Malik ran a hand through his hair. It was an attempt at smoothing it, a subconscious gesture. He tried to calm his own nervousness: "So you fear, that someone could recognize you. Who would benefit from knowing who you are?" Altair remained silent and pulled his boots over the jeans. Malik crouched and pulled the legs over the boots. "It looks more normal this way. And?" "No one. I just don't want to be remembered. You yourself said that it would be dangerous.", was the answer he got. Malik put his own jacket on and unlocked the door. Then the two were back on the same path they'd taken yesterday. "You are right. But the right now, you are more recognizable because you look quite odd for our standards. You like to blend in with the crowd, I guess. This should be your first step. By the way, what I'm wearing is a shirt not a robe." Altair turned his head from left to right. His gaze lingered over a pile of blue garbage bags in an alleyway for a second before he looked straight ahead again. "Camouflage.", he mumbled. Malik nervously fumbled with the phone in his pocket. "Yes, it's a little like camouflage."