A/N: I got the impression that some people wanted to hear Maria's conversation...sorry, but I have no idea how she would react to that stuff...so yea...I might go back to that chapter later and put her in when I get the time, but it's on the 'if' list. Also, I apologize for the lateness on this one...I haven't had a jolt of inspiration lately, and I've been constantly kicked out of the house from morning to night with shooting practice and other stuff just to keep me from sleeping in and getting on the Xbox or laptop =/. And this scene kept dinking around and couldn't shake it away, nor make it a plot. So I just went "eh, these are oneshot ideas that come to my possible insane brain, so why not?"

The light of the moon waned and cast shadows upon the Holy Land's mountainous and sandy regions, giving the features a sense of peace despite being constantly at war. Only hours lasted until the sun would rise to greet the many denizens of the domain, awakening them to the day to come. But one man, however, did not sleep, as he was too impatient for the sun to come.

Altaïr quilled the parchment before him, black bags beginning to form underneath his eyes from lack of sleep. The candle beside him slowly dripped away, almost out of wax that told the young man had been sitting at the desk for some time now.

Altaïr sat back to examine his letter, eyes scanning over it, praying it sounded as convincing as he hoped:

Malik,

It has been too long, my friend. I apologize for not giving you word that I am still alive, but certain problems have arrived since I left Cyprus. The Templar threat may have been removed, but I fear they are reviving, as they attempted to murder me while I was on the road to and from distant lands.

However, that is not the only problem I wish to address with you. I am back from said lands, and am expecting to be back in Hashshashin territory by next week, but I must first make sure my companion returns to Acre safely, as she now has many enemies because of me.

I will explain in detail of what has occurred since I left for Cyprus once I return to Masyaf, for I cannot trust this bird to bring valuable information over such great distance and with no harm done to it.

-Altaïr

Altaïr muttered incoherently under his breath and tossed the parchment aside and pulled out another. Malik would be suspicious of him, no doubt, if Altaïr mentioned a female companion from the former Templar-controlled city.

Altaïr looked behind him to gaze at probably the biggest problem he has had since Cyprus: Maria. The woman slept soundly, still clutching the bedsheets over her naked form with small snores echoing out of her mouth in synchronization with her breathing. Her black hair was undone from the confining bun with her moonlit skin still slick from their previous nightly events.

Granted, he had grown attached to his companion, and the fact that they shared a bed or blanket every time they slept strengthened that attachment. Altaïr never saw a woman like her before...so independent, so aggressive...

So beautiful...

Adha could only rival Maria in beauty, but in every other field, he noticed, Maria took up the crown without a second opinion.

But Maria was a former Templar...

His enemy...

And yet, he found himself in her arms every single night since they first made love in India. Looking back now, he couldn't help but chuckle on how their strange relationship started. What began as him pinning her down with his hidden blade at her throat, kidnapping her and taking her to Cyprus, having to experience constant frustration from her shouts and threats and frequently save her from her former comrades...had suddenly blossomed into lasting friendship, and then, love.

But he knew that such a bond was something an Assassin should never partake in, as it could only end in disaster with what he does for a living.

He also knew that the bond would be considered taboo. Maria and him were from different worlds, always finding ways to disagree on a subject because of how they were raised. Indeed, he managed to turn her opinions around, and she likewise, but both still held on to their roots. Every time they entered a city or town, they would receive questionable stares from the citizens, and as if Altaïr could read minds, he knew what they were thinking. "How could an Arabic and European be in love?" he mumbled to himself, but immediately chuckled at it. He didn't care what others thought, as he was a mix of the two. Maria and he managed to make it work so far...but no doubt she had pondered over the question once in a while and began to feel doubtful. He couldn't blame her if she was frightened – she was brought up on a different path than he.

Altaïr wanted to take her as his wife. To have a simple marriage and raise children with her and train them to be Assassins. But again, the taboo that was their relationship would cause some uprising among Muslims and Christians everywhere they went. And if he was to take her to Masyaf, which she may thoroughly object to, his brothers would never accept her because she was a former Templar...

Altaïr groaned and ran a hand through his sweat-beaded hair and brow. He was far too tired and could not think straight...but he needed to finish the letter. Pushing all other thoughts away momentarily, he returned his attention back to the parchment.

He did not notice Maria suddenly sat up.

Maria gingerly creaked open her eyes, trying to see past the veils of darkness. Her eyes still partially shut, she reached over to the other side of the bed in search of his warmth...

But found nothing.

Slightly confused at this, Maria sat up from the bed, bringing the sheets with her and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Still dazed, her eyes wandered over the room until they rested on a nearly dead candle light, and a shadowed figure resting near it, scratching away Arabic letters on a parchment.

"Altaïr?" Maria muttered sleepily. She saw the shadowed figure stop his quilling for a moment to raise his head, then returned to his writing.

"You need sleep, Maria," groaning out, he brought one hand to his tired eyes and rubbed them sorely. Judging by how the candle wax had nearly melted away to nothing, Maria guessed that after she fell asleep, he left her arms to commence his studies.

"As do you, Assassin," Maria mumbled, slipping off the bed and bringing the sheets with her. She leaned over him, as her sore muscles prevented her from standing up on her own, and placed a respectful kiss atop his head. "Do you wish to fall off your horse tomorrow before we arrive in Acre and force me to carry you back home?" When she heard no reply, she chuckled while wrapping her arms around him from behind, "Oh come now; is this really so important that it cannot wait until morning?"

Altaïr sighed, but couldn't help but lean into her loving warmth. He felt so at ease when near her... "I'm just writing a letter to an old friend...he has not heard of me since Cyprus, and possibly believes I'm dead."

"Why didn't you write to him before?" she whispered into his ear.

Altaïr chuckled, brushing a scarred hand against her arm, "You know how pigeons are, Maria. As well as hawks."

Maria snickered at this, but quickly returned to her stubborn attitude, "You need sleep, Altaïr. Put the letter away for now, and come back to bed."

Altaïr smirked, reaching up to plant a lingering kiss against his lover's cheek, "Five more minutes?"

Maria rolled her eyes and couldn't help but let a huff escape her lips. Turning on her heel, she climbed into the bed, but refused to fall asleep until Altaïr joined her.

Sure enough, the candle finally blew out and she felt the bed give away slightly and his arms wrapped around her body, pulling her close.

*does the pimp-nod*...Cool...

Yea, I'm sure you can guess I'm pretty mellowed out right now xD so no comment other than...

U iz leving uh revew?