A/N: I hope this isn't strangling your brain as you read T.T Lol, enjoy! Any suggestions, let me know :3

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed


Chapter 01: La dea verde

"Okay, can you explain now?" Isabella stammered as Zach dragged her along behind him. "I told you that question's would have to wait till later!" He yelled exasperated. "Geez, who pissed in your Cheerio's this morning?" She shouted with just as much frustration. He just scoffed and led her to a house. She blinked repeatedly until turning to him and asking, "Why are we at our parent's house?" Zach narrowed his eyes at her, tired of hearing her voice and tired from not having enough sleep. "Serves him right," Isabella thought, justified.

She looked up at the house again. A small smile grew as she remembered the past. "Good times, good times," they have lived in this house sense their birth and had to leave once they were old enough. It was a two-story building, with vines spiraling at the sides; the house was painted a warm beige, bringing back their Dad's heritage, Italia. Inside though, it revealed a lot of culture that was not only Italian, but Spanish; their mother was from South America.

Her eye's landed on the balcony that used to lead to her room. Oh, the days where she could be so carefree and sneak out, have fun and the worst consequence she could get was being grounded and losing possessions that would be gained back through a little convincing and doing double chores. "Sigh, those days' indeed," she thought, a little saddened. There were nicely cut shrubs and beautiful flowers that sparkled in the night, well morning rather. It would almost be five o'clock, "And I still have no reason as to why I had to get up so damn early!" Her voice punctured with needles of annoyance and anger.

Zach knocked on the wooden door several times with no response. He sighed in defeat and turned toward me slowly. "I don't suppose you brought your lock pick with you?" She gave him "the look". "You would wouldn't you? You would actually assume that I brought a tension wrench and a set of picks. For your information my good sir, I'm still in my pajama's moron!" (Which were just a loose dark red tank top and forest green basketball shorts.) Apparently he decided to humor her and say, "So… do you or not?" Isabella face palmed and retorted, "No. No, I don't. Jackass," He put his hands up in defense. "Talk about pissing in someone's Cheerio's…," he muttered lowly. Unfortunately for him, she was like a bat when it came to hearing. "What was that?" Isabelle challenged. He stiffened and said the exact same thing she stated. "Oh yeah, I forgot; you can hear like a bat," she smirked and he rolled his eyes.

He tried knocking again with avail this time. "Oh…, you actually came," a man's voice spoke croakily. "Looks like you left in a hurry," he turned to Zach and nodded. "That's good, we need you both anyway," he opened the door all the way and let her and Zach enter. "Isabella, mi seguono," the older man motioned me over. "Di cosa si tratta, padre?" Isabella asked; sense it was obvious that Zach wasn't going to give her an answer. "I'll explain in time, cara. Now, we need your help," he said calmly. "Am I ever going to get an answer? It's just a simple question, what's so damn important? ARRGGGHHHH!" Inside she was roaring with tantrums and fits, on the outside she remained emotionless. "Sì, padre, but… with what?" She tried another question, seeing as how the other one was alien. "Do you know how to rid of bullets?" He asked, bluntly. She knew that she wasn't going to get a straight answer if she asked who and why so she replied, "Sì, perché?" He smiled, she was finally catching on. "Venga con me," Father walked to where a guest bedroom was stationed, Isabella followed quietly.

Isabelle gasped at the sight. There was a man in strange attire that lay on the bed. A splotch of red blossomed on the white cloth, the left side of his waist. She didn't ask anymore question's as she walked up to him and knelt by the bedside. Lifting up the linen shirt, she turned to her Dad, "How long has he been like this? The wound is still fresh," he inclined his head a bit, thinking. "A couple of hours at most, cosa avete bisogno?" Isabella thought for a moment, "What the hell is going on?" But of course that was never going to be answered so she told him, "A bucket of cold water, three clean rags, gauze, disinfectant, anesthesia, and forceps," he nodded and left. "Did he really have those?" Isabella thought flabbergasted as he returned with the materials. Even though he was unconscious, she still applied the anesthesia. She dipped one of the rags in water as she cleaned around the wound. Using the forceps, she pulled the bullet out gingerly and placed it on the bedside table. Drenching the rag again, Isabelle put pressure on the wound until the bleeding stopped; which was shockingly soon. After disinfecting the wound, she reached for the gauze; the wound itself didn't need stitching. Wrapping his side firmly, Isabella placed the back of her hand to his head; checking if he had a fever. With her free hand she put the back of it to her head, feeling the difference. "Yup, you definitely have a fever," she thought exhausted. She grabbed another clean rag, grateful that she asked for three. Sitting it in the cool liquid, she took it out and twisted the towel till the excess water was gone. Arranging the cloth in a rectangle form, Isabella placed it on his forehead; cringing as he shifted beneath her.

Flushing a bit, Isabelle backed away and was about the leave when he started fidgeting. She turned back to him and sat in the chair she put at his side. He was mumbling incoherent things; even with her "bat hearing" Isabella couldn't make out what he was saying. Only now did she take a good look at his face. He had a scar on the right side of his mouth, vertically across his lips. His hair a dark brown, almost black, pulled into a low ponytail. His sharp cheekbones accompanied by a strong jaw. He had broad shoulders and was lean and muscular; then there was that killer six pack underneath that shirt of his. Unintentionally, she licked her lips. Isabelle's eyes widened, "No, Isabella, no. This guy is a stranger and… a very good looking one too—, b-but still no he's…," her thoughts trailed off once his eyes started twitching. "How can someone recover that quickly? I mean sure it's been a few hours sense the procedure was commenced, but… I expected him to be out at least another day due to blood loss," she speculated. His eyes slowly opened, taking in his surroundings. Much to her surprise, she stayed calm and waited for his eyes to land on her. Almost immediately, he looked at her. Not only confused but eyes darting every which way.

"Great, now how am I going to explain how he got here and why, when I didn't even know how he got here and why?" Isabella thought, incredulously. The man stared at the woman who was in the room with him. She had green eyes, dark wavy brown hair, she was in strange garments, but he wasn't complaining; he could see every feature of hers perfectly, well almost. She was slender, but held a curvy figure. "Definitely Spanish…," he thought remembering his past affairs. It wasn't just her body that made him think so, it was her chest as well. Mentally, he was pushing her up against a wall and ripping her clothes to shreds. "Don't let that get to you," an inner voice sounded off throughout his mind. "Remember what happened last time…?" Oh yes, he did indeed remember last time. "It was the perfect plan too," he thought, ashamed and not at the same time. Just because she was a woman, a beautiful woman, didn't mean she wasn't an enemy in disguise. He couldn't risk it and after what hell he went through a few hours ago; there was just no way, so he asked, "Who are you, where am I and how did─ gah!" He tried to get up, but a sharp pain shot through his left side. "That's right… I was… shot after…," his thoughts were cut short when she started speaking, "I wouldn't do that, you're still recovering from that wound," she pushed him lightly back down as she propped up pillows, so he could at least sit up in a way. "You didn't answer my questions, signora," he prodded, sizing her up. He could probably take her, but then again she was slim for a reason. The indentations in her upper arms meant she exercised. His voice radiated Italian through his thick accent. She sat back down in the chair and spoke most of the truth, "You're safe, although, I have no idea how you got here or when. I'm just the one they called to fix you up," he smirked and replied, "Oh? Well I see they left me in good hands," the woman rolled her eyes playfully and couldn't help the smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Grazie, messere, you know I aim to please," she placed her hands over her heart, dramatically. He was taken aback, "So she knew his native language, eh?" Even so, it was his turn to roll his eyes and grin. This girl was different.

Isabella giggled, "I'm going to get the question aren't I?" She thought, predicting the next turn of events. "Well, mia bella, I at least deserve to know the name of la bella donna who saved my life," he told her, trying to keep his eyes from wandering below her collarbone. "Damn it! I called it too!" His warm honey eyes filled with mischief and deviousness. She smirked and said, "Well I deserve the name of il bell'uomo whose life I saved," her own green eyes mimicking his honey ones. Reaching for her hand, he pulled it to his lips and said, "Ezio Auditore da Firenze," softly against her knuckles as he kissed the back of her hand. He could tell she was slightly uncomfortable, whether it was his breath that blew slightly against her skin or the intensity of his gaze, he could feel her body shiver and it gave him the urge to smirk of the effect he had on her. "Isabella Vittoria Rossetti-Valdez," she spoke evenly, Ezio mentally frowned; he was not used to women being unaffected by his charms. "A pleasure, madonna," he grinned releasing her hand. "Oh, the pleasure is all mine, signore," Isabella stood up and curtsied. Ezio chuckled lightly and she smiled. Isabelle turned and headed toward the door. Although this gave him a great view on the rest of her "features" he still had no idea where he was and why. "Stay put, okay?" He scoffed and she smirked. "I'll be right back," with that she left the room. Now that she was gone, he had time to create an escape plan, as much as he wanted to see and feel what the rest of her body was like, he needed to get out of here. "Or do I…?" Ezio debated. "Cazzo! I don't have time for this!" He thought, feeling under pressure and couldn't think straight. Then the door opened, he expected Isabella. "You…," Ezio trailed off, seeing the eyes of his savior.


"FUCK IT!" Reese yelled, aggravated. He turned over a desk in pure anger, papers and supplies flying everywhere. "Um… Mr. Reese?" A female voice called hesitantly. "What is it now?" He asked venom clear in his voice. The woman gulped and continued. "Mr. Brooks would like a word with you, sir…," she tried to speak evenly. He sighed and nodded to her. She bowed and tried not to look so grateful of being dismissed.

"Ah, Jeremy, there you are," Chad announced as he entered the room. "Yeah, yeah what's the situation?" Reese didn't want to waste time and idly chit-chatting was costing him a fortune. "Right, getting straight to the point we have somewhat good news," Mr. Brooks told him bluntly. Eyes widening, Jeremy gave him an amazed look. "It is about the machine?" He nodded and a smile broke across Reese's face. "Are you serious? What's new? Have you found them?" His mouth poured out questions like a fountain spews out water. "Yes, very serious. We have found structural damage, but that's nothing we can't fix. The problem is, is that your little magic puzzle piece is no longer supplying power," Mr. Miyagi piped up and strode over there with Daniel at his side. "Aidan, Daniel," they gave a sharp nod to Brooks and turned to Reese; sense he knew they were talking about the Apple he started, "Okay, so you've answered two of my questions, but not the most important one. Where are they?" Jeremy demanded as he stared both men in the eyes. Aidan shrugged. "That's the thing Mr. Reese, you see we can have that machine of yours up and running in no time, but…," he trailed off and that signaled Daniel to explain the rest. "We would need new parts and it will take more time than intentionally planned," Jeremy face palmed. Why did everything have to screw up? Why now of all times?

"But…," Miyagi said conjuring up hope inside of Reese. "If we can get the piece of Eden operating again, I might be able to calculate their current positions and that's only if it's working," although this was good news, it still gave them nothing. How in the hell were they supposed to figure out how an ancient artifact -key word ancient- functioned when they knew almost nothing about it? Only that it contained immense power and held abilities of the impossible, even if they were advanced they weren't that advanced. Jeremy sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Before any of that can happen though, you guys have to repair that machine. Otherwise, even if the Apple was usable again, it wouldn't do us any favors. I'll call in the parts in the morning, right now… Tch, I'm going to bed. And if anyone wakes me up there will be hell to pay!" Reese threatened dangerously. Everyone stayed silent, why? Because they knew he wasn't playing a game. Last time someone disturbed him; he practically made them a cripple and then joked about it. Ever sense then everyone kept their appropriate distance. To him though, it was gaining respect and putting people in their place. "God, the perks of this job," he thought smug as he trotted over to his make shift bed chamber. You could say that the power went to his head, but that was exactly the point; power. Oh how the employee's wanted him to see their point of view, to be in their shoes. Envious glares followed him to his door and it just made his grin broader. Taking out his pistol, he made sure that it was loaded and cocked it. He undressed until he was just in his undershirt and boxers. Seating himself on the purposed bed, he placed the gun under his pillow and got situated soundly; "Sleep tight," he thought arrogantly as he drifted off into slumber.


Translation's :

La dea verde - The green goddess

mi seguono - follow me

Di cosa si tratta, padre? - What's this about, father?

cara - darling/dear

Sì, padre - Yes, father

Sì, perché? - Yes, why?

Venga con me - Come with me

cosa avete bisogno? - what will you need?

signora - lady

Grazie, messere - Thank you, sir

mia bella - my lovely

la bella donna - the beautiful woman

il bell'uomo - the handsome man

madonna - madame

signore - mister

Cazzo! - Fuck!