I've gotten this insane idea into my head that Desmond's body looks like a cross between Mark Walhberg's when he did the Calvin Klein thing and Taylor Lautner's in the movie Eclipse...like I said, "drool oceans over his body".

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassins Creed or the All-American Rejects' song 'The Poison', which makes an appearance... :)

I walked out into the living room without a word, still drying my blonde hair off. Going into the bathroom, I retrieved the necklace and the ring, putting them both on. After that, I put the key around my wrist and I walked into the kitchen. Somehow wearing Ezio's things made me feel confident and empowered.

"Do they teach assassins to knock?" I asked Desmond, who was unloading ready-made lasagna and various travel foods. I watched patiently from a corner.

"Everyone knows how to knock. But what if someone had been killing you silently? I'm sure courtesy wouldn't be a problem in that situation." He said, shaking his head slightly.

"So they teach you paranoia and a wicked imagination instead." I scoffed, reaching for plates in the cupboard.

"It's not taught, it's impressed." He said, his voice all low. I put two plates on the table, and I started searching for flatware.

"So." I said, after a moment of long, awkward silence. Desmond wouldn't look at me, and his ears were tinged with red.

"You look like you're twenty." He said randomly. I let out a disbelieving sigh.

"They teach you how to read ages?" I asked, finding the cutlery. Thing was, there was only a spoon and a fork. That was it. "Spoon or fork?" I asked. ((urhurhur))

Desmond had to spit out the water he was drinking in the sink. "What?" he asked, a question of 'what the hell' on his features. I held up the silverware. His eyes recognized them and he breathed a sigh of relief. I realized what he was thinking.

"Ugh! How old are you, fourteen?" I exclaimed, setting the utensils down on the table like they had burned me.

"Since we're on the topic of age, no, I am not fourteen. I am twenty-seven." He said, throwing an apologetic smile towards me. All accusations I was going to fling out at him were dissolved. "And I'll have the spoon." He sat down at the table, and took a huge scoop of lasagna on the plate.

I just realized how hungry I was. I sat down, and took a scoop of lasagna as well, nearly half the size of Desmond's. I began eating, stealing glances towards Desmond. He was already halfway done. Ugh, men.

I finished dinner (after Desmond had seconds, in which there was no lasagna left) and retreated to the living room, toying with the ring. I saw the letter to my left. I looked around (Desmond had already gone to bed, but I was restless) before I snatched it up and opened it.

Of course, it was in Italian. I let Nora do the translating for me.

Dearest Nora,

I write you this letter because I am lost without your love. I cannot forgive myself for the things I have done without you around, and the ghosts haunt me in your absence. Never have I felt this way before, and I want you to know: I love you. I love you with all my heart, never forget.

And it is because I love you that I ask your hand in marriage. With the ring I have enclosed, and the key as well, they show that we are eternally bonded, and you are the key to my heart and soul. Protect it well, for I trust you immensely.

Ezio.

I set down the letter, bewildered. I stared at the key and the ring on my hand. They were gifts of love, love for Nora Titanimo. A love that went on in me…

I rubbed my head, feeling like I'd just read someone's diary.

I got up, suddenly tired. I looked at Desmond's sleeping form on the bed, and sighed. I went to the couch and curled up, falling asleep.

When I woke up, my face was inches away from Desmond's. His eyes were wide, and he had a grip on my arms, keeping me away from him. He looked hurt.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"You came in here, speaking Italian, and then you sort of jumped on me and started kissing me…your eyes were all glazed over…" he said, his face turning red. I felt so embarrassed. Oh, Nora…why?

"What did I say?"

"Something about Ezio." He said in a clipped voice, his blush deepening. It must've been something dirty…oh, god.

"Oh my God…" I groaned, rolling off of him. I lay on my back, covering my face with my hands.

"Happened to me, too." He said.

"What?" I looked over at him.

"This was a couple of days ago. I woke up, and I was standing in your room, watching you. It really freaked me out." He looked over at me for a second, his eyes shining in the moonlight. "We should get some rest." He said after a minute or so of staring at each other.

"Yeah…" I said, getting up. Desmond grabbed my wrist.

"Don't go back out there." He said, sounding desperate. I nodded and slipped back into the bed. He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me. I rested my hand on his. His low, steady breathing in my ear lulled me to sleep, and the last thing I heard was him saying, "I'll always protect you."

When I woke up, Desmond had gone. I sat up in bed, wiping sleep from my eyes and regaining my senses. I got out of bed, still in my shorts and v-neck. I found my shoes next to the couch and put them on. After this, I tied up my hair and saw the backpack.

It was a blue backpack, with three zipper pouches: a big one in the back, a smaller one in the front, and a tall one on the side. Taped to the backpack was a note that said 'I'm getting train tickets to Rome. STAY HERE.' I scoffed and looked in the backpack.

In the biggest pocket was a laptop with a solar charger, throwing knives, a hidden blade, and a cell phone. In the medium pocket was a wallet, a set of keys, and a first aid kit. In the taller pouch was a canteen, which held about 40 ounces of water…or whatever the hell you wanted.

I looked speculatively at the hidden blade. Peeking out the window to make sure Desmond wasn't ten feet from the door, I put it on, adjusting the straps so they fit my forearm. The device felt strange on me, yet utterly familiar. Had Nora worn this before?

I slipped the release mechanism on my pinky finger, and spread my fingers out, like I'd seen Ezio do. Pulling down with my pinky, I watched the blade spring out, narrowly missing my fingers above it. I looked it over in the light. It was beautiful, and deadly. I quickly took it off and unbuckled it from my arm. Setting it back in the backpack, I took a seat on the couch. The ball rolled toward me with the new incline. I stood up right away, staring at it.

Obviously Desmond knew what it was. The way he had looked at it in complete recognition told me it was something that would help us immensely. Or him, depending on the situation. It was definitely a weird object. It began to glow, though I was over five feet away from it. The room started to get hotter and hotter. I stumbled back, landing on the backpack.

Something inside the backpack exploded, and I was shrouded in smoke. I had forgotten the assassin's favorite getaway—the smoke bomb. I started choking and coughing on the putrid air, trying to find the door.

When I reached for the handle, I immediately drew back. It was glowing red-hot.

I managed to hold my breath for the minute or so that the smoke bomb was on. When the air dissipated, I went into the bathroom, opening the transept above the shower. I breathed the fresh air like a fish in water.

"Hello?" someone called from the door. Desmond! "Am I allowed to come in, or do I have to knock?"

"Come in!" I didn't have the energy to add anything sarcastic. I just kept breathing.

When Desmond came in, he smelled the air. "You let off a smoke bomb in here?" he asked. How had he gotten through the door? It was glowing!

"Yeah, I fell…" I said, scratching my head.

"No problem. I have more." He said. He held up two train tickets. "Let's go to Rome." He said, smiling.

I didn't know how Desmond had gotten the Animus onto the train without any suspicion, but he had done it, that was all that mattered. With the backpack over his shoulder, we took our seats towards the door.

It was a four-hour ride to Rome, and Desmond had told me not to fall asleep again, just like on the plane.

And just like on the plane, he fell asleep within the first ten minutes. I was busy immersed in Southern Italy's countryside, the yellows and golds and the vibrant hues of blue in the sky were breathtaking. I only imagined what Nora would've thought.

Two hours passed by before Desmond started to mumble in his sleep. At first it was just a couple of words, some in Italian, some in English. But then he started to speak sentences. "I love you." He whispered at one point. At that moment I wished he was in the window seat instead of me. "I need you." He whispered in Italian. "Marry me, marry me…" I sat there in shock, watching him with wide eyes.

When his mumblings became louder, I shook his arm. He woke up, but it wasn't Desmond.

His eyes were golden, like Ezio when he was using his sixth sense. His eyes had become glazed over, and he was looking at me with his eyes full of love. I took a deep breath. "Desmond." I said, resting my hand on his arm.

He leaned forward quickly, capturing my lips in his, and wrapping his hand around my neck. Oh, I could've lost myself in that kiss, yes, but I didn't. Because it wasn't Desmond. "Desmond." I said again, not moving. Ezio just kept kissing me.

I pulled back from him, breaking apart. There was visible hurt in his eyes, his brilliant golden eyes. "Perche, Nora?" he asked. Why, Nora?

"Desmond. Wake up." I said, shaking his arm. But Ezio was still there. "Desmond." I said, a little louder. "Ezio, I need Desmond now." I said, looking into his eyes, trying to make a connection.

Ezio nodded. "Bene." He said, and closed his eyes, concentrating. When they opened again, they were the familiar color of autumn leaves. I sighed, smiling.

"What happened?" he asked, pulling his hand back from my neck.

"Your ancestor is a really good kisser." I said smugly. About three milliseconds after I'd said it, I knew what Desmond was going to say.

"Ditto." He smiled. We laughed at the same time, though there was no reason to. We both looked at each other warmly, smiling.

I relaxed back into my chair, touching my lips slyly. I still felt the heat of Desmond on me vaguely. I looked over and saw Desmond calling the waitress with the long legs over. He ordered a beer and asked me if I wanted anything. I said a strawberry soda and he nodded, locking eyes with me for a long second.

When the waitress walked away with our orders, he sat back as well. I leaned over, curious. "Did you learn all of your Italian from Ezio?" I asked.

"Only some. Most of the stuff, Rebecca or Shaun had translated, with the odd bit of Italian thrown in. It had been said so much that I had just caught onto it, I guess." He shrugged and looked past me, out the window. "Oh, look." He said, pointing at something.

I swiveled my head just in time to see the sun set over the hills. It was stunning, with the blue fading away fast, replaced by a brilliant deep purple. I tilted my head up, to see stars overhead. The countryside was bathed in shadow, and a couple of seconds later, the overhead lights turned on. The captain up front announced that we were arriving in Rome in less than an hour.

"Where did you put the—" I turned my head back, only to find myself three centimeters from Desmond's face. "Desmond." I said, searching his eyes for Ezio. Strange; nothing was there.

"I don't even know your name, and I feel like I'm in love with you." He whispered. I looked away, blushing furiously.

"It's just Ezio playing tricks on you. He thinks I'm Nora." I said, shifting around in my seat, unable to meet his eyes.

"It's not just that." He whispered. I couldn't breathe. "It's strange, like I've known you my entire life." He said, searching my eyes for something, anything.

"I don't know what you're saying, Desmond." I said, shaking my head.

"Maybe…never mind. That was stupid." He leaned back in his chair, waiting for the waitress.

A minute later, the long-legged waitress came out, with Desmond's beer and my soda. We drank in silence. When I was done, I reclined the chair back, and attempted to relax, but my mind was rushing with the Italian soda and Desmond's words.

I feel like I'm in love with you…

I squeezed my eyes shut almost painfully, trying to blot out the words. The bland taste of the strawberry in the drink stuck in my mouth, and I felt strange. I sat up, and took the drink in my hand. I sniffed at it.

There. That tangy smell that was almost unscented but not. I looked over at Desmond. "Did you…?" I asked, before passing out on the chair.

I woke up in a bed, with birds chirping outside. Soft, lilting music drifted in, and I sat up quickly, making me nauseous. I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the world from spinning. When I opened my eyes, I found that I was in a relatively large room, with a four-poster bed and an armchair in the corner.

The chair was uninhabited, and this calmed me some.

But as soon as I was calm, I was frantic; questions were flashing through my mind at a hundred miles an hour.

Where was I? Where was Desmond? What had happened to Shaun, Lucy, and Rebecca? Were they alright? Why was I here? Did Desmond…drug me? My eyes widened.

I hopped out of bed and went over to the window, looking down on the street below. I still had on my booty shorts and v-neck. Good. No one had changed me.

Below me was a street full of people, surrounding a particularly small band that looked to have about three people in it. The music was soft, and the words were in English. I recognized the song from a couple of years ago. The guitarist was singing, and the voice sounded familiar. He was plucking the strings delicately.

You were so young

And I guess I'm old.

Open your eyes

And I keep mine closed.

I prefer standing

And you take your seat.

I'll be wide awake

And you'll be asleep.

The guitarist was strumming only two chords on this guitar the color of opals, from what I could see, but it sounded beautiful. A cellist came in with a descending walk-down as they went into the chorus. I opened the window a bit, and leaned out.

And you fall down a hole;

That's the one place that we both know

You'd take me with you if you could but I wouldn't go

I guess that sometimes

We both lose our minds, to

Find a better road

The music went into an interlude. I rested my head on my folded arms as the singer went into the second verse.

I can be pensive

And you can be so sure

You'll be the poison

You'll be the cure

I'm alone on the journey

I'm alive nonetheless

And when do your very worst

Mmmm, it feels the very best

The backup singer, the cellist, came in with a lower voice, accenting the frontman. The drums got louder.

And you fall down a hole

That's the one place that we both know

You'd take me with you if you could but I wouldn't go

I guess that some times

We both lose our minds

Find a better road

The guitarist looked up at me in the window, humming. A flash of gold from his eyes told me who he was. Desmond.

And we fall down a hole

That's the one place in this world that we both know

You'd take me with you if you could—

If you could, I'd lose everything

The chorus went into a more angry part, changing from a lullaby to a menacing marching band beat. I kept my eyes on Desmond, who seemed to be really into the song.

(La la lala la…)

Can't you see their faces melting as the sun rains from their eyes?

(Eyes, eyes, eye-yay yay.)

Who are you to keep your head with the hearts that you hang behind?

Look at yourself

Look in the mirror—don't you see a lie?

As you tell yourself again a thousand times

(Tell yourself again a thousand times…)

And the truth that makes us laugh will make you cry

You wanna die? No…?

Desmond was singing. To me. My face turned red, but I couldn't look away. The song got quiet, and the crowd started chattering excitedly. Desmond started singing again, and the cellist played in the background.

So you fall down a hole

That's the one place that we both know

You'd take me with you if you could but I wouldn't go

Because some times

We both lose our minds

Find a better road

Desmond finished the last line a Capella, and the crowd started clapping. I stared down at Desmond bitterly, my thoughts returning to me. He had drugged me. When the crowd had dispersed, I saw Desmond walk toward the building, bringing the guitar with him. He waved to the guys packing up, and they saluted him farewell. I turned my back to the window, leaning on the sill, and facing the door.

When it opened, I crossed my arms, scowling. "Are you stupid?" I asked. He held up his hands in surrender, the beautiful shimmering guitar shining innocently against his stomach.

"Nice to see you, too." He laughed. He closed the door, and swung the guitar off of his body, resting it on the bed.

"I hope you didn't kill the last man who owned that." I said, nodding towards the guitar. The hot Italian sun shone onto my back, making it itch slightly.

"And I know you like the guitar." He said, smiling. "Those guys just needed an extra guy for a second." I stared at him incredulously. He'd just evaded all of my questions. "Seriously. I haven't killed anyone, nor needed to, since before I met you." He said, his palms up. He was telling the truth.

"Fine. I believe you. But you have to return that. And what the hell? You drugged me?" I asked, my voice raising at the last part.

"Calm down! You needed the sleep, and it would've gone faster if you weren't there."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"I had someone put you up in this room for the night. You were completely safe, and I didn't need to keep an eye on you as I was unloading the Animus. Which is safe, at headquarters, thanks to us."

"Us? I thought I was playing the part of the unconscious girl in the hotel room!" I shook my head, and closed the window behind me.

"It was just one more thing that I didn't want to worry about." Desmond said, walking over to me.

"But Minerva said that I was supposed to stay with you at all times." I said, turning my head to the side. "She obviously knows more than we do, so shouldn't we listen to her?"

Desmond was quiet. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that." I know it sounds clichéd, but it definitely felt good to be told I was right. "It won't happen again, I promise."

"Okay." I turned around, and sat on the bed next to the guitar. "So when did you learn to play guitar?"

"A year ago. You have no idea how grating Shaun's voice can be. So I picked up the guitar from this kid across the street from the Auditore house. Helped me calm down when I wasn't allowed out of the house."

"I don't remember seeing one in your room." I said. "Wait. Did you say Auditore house?"

"Yeah, the hideout we were in was the Auditore Palazzo. It'd been renovated in the early nineties for electricity and other uses…like the assassins. I'm surprised it was in such good shape. And I didn't keep the guitar in my room."

"That's crazy. And they didn't know you were Ezio? And where did you keep it? I thought I went everywhere in the hideout."

"No, they didn't. It was complete coincidence, and Rebecca had actually patched in during one session in the Animus and said, 'dude, we're in your ancestor's house!' and Shaun had asked why she didn't know this before. Needless to say, I did a bit more exploring after that." He smiled and took a seat in the armchair. I pulled the guitar into my lap. "That's actually my guitar. I'd managed to get it out before we'd left." He smiled lovingly at it, and I felt my heart swell, then sink. My guitar was a pile of ashes.

"It's beautiful." I observed, noticing the fine details in the wood. It looked like a tree with a million roots.

"Yeah. Do you want to play?" he asked.

I looked up, my face beaming. "Really?" Desmond smiled his lopsided half-smile and nodded. I bit my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. I sat up straighter, like I was taught in class. I held my fingers less than an inch from the fret board, but my mind was blank.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know what to play." I laughed.

Onnnnn to the next chapter, hmmmmmmnn?