Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

Arturo and Casca were living very close to some ruins of an amphitheater, watching the days pass by paying little mind to the events in the city. Finally, they were content.

Obviously, this means it's time for some trouble to stir.

It was their first day off since their most recent transfer, and they were casually letting their horses graze from a pile of hay. After a few minutes they tied them up a few feet away, and stopped to chat idly.

Boring, huh? Well then, let's change our point of view to someone else, someone who happens to be an Assassin standing on a ledge above the two Borgia. Passera, though she did not possess the name of a killer, was perched looking out at the scenery before her. Her master, normally an entirely agreeable man, had the nerve to say she was bad at performing the Leap of Faith.

Apparently that is incentive enough to jump off a building.

So, taking a deep breath and locking her eyes on a circling eagle for a split second, she elegantly jumped off the historic ruins toward the stack of hay below.

Her master was right; she was terrible at the Leap of Faith that was a signature to all Assassins.

Although she did manage to take out two Borgia guards as she landed at the edge of the stack. While she would love to credit pulling off her emergency landing to being adept at free running, in reality it was probably the fact that the two guards, whom she didn't know were guards, were in casual clothing (hence her ignorance) and lacked heavy armor and weapons, thus they acted as a convenient cushion. That, dear readers, is the use of variables.

They tumbled into the hay with a cut-off scream and two startled yelps, followed by several painful groans.

Now we have returned to the lives of our two favorite members of the Borgia. One of which was currently being used as a cushion by a flustered Assassin, just before aforementioned Assassin noticed the extreme pain in her leg.

Pain (as I've mentioned before) rocketed up her leg, and she twisted her body, trying to do something to make it stop. She quickly realized not moving was a better idea and crumpled up, whimpering. This did not bode well for either her or her current cushion.

Arturo was young for a guard, and had not yet known many women. Thus, when one literally landed on top of him, his normally, eh, well, we'll call them "sharp" skills didn't kick in until after she started thrashing around. He found himself in close proximity to a girl in a lot of pain, and had no idea what he was supposed to do other than hold her down, which meant hold her closer to him.

Casca found all of this rather amusing, as you can imagine, despite the pain in his shoulder. After a moment, Arturo pushed the girl off him and stood up knee deep in hay.

Passera writhed on the ground for a moment before her mind finally cleared and she was able to move easier, looking up at her victims (wait, wasn't she the victim?) and tried to look, well, sorry.

"Casca, what do we do?" Arturo asked.

"I guess we take her to a doctor… There's one down the road a little." Casca replied. As you can imagine, our two guards were simply standing there, watching the poor girl while they tried to think of a way to help her.

"She must have been on a building though, and that can be punishable by law…"

"I think that this time it was punishable by the ground." At that, Casca, as gently as possible, lifted Passera and walked over to the horses, before saying to his friend, "Climb on and I'll hand her up."

The guard set her side-saddle in front of him, briefly considering how it could hurt her leg more to ride on a horse. It seems thoughts don't stay in the minds of the low-ranked Borgia for very long.

It also seems that they have no idea what to do if someone gets hurt, which could account for the large amounts of casualties caused by blood loss. (It should be noted that, despite rumors, they did not die of paper cuts. As long as a doctor was present.)

They found a doctor fairly quickly, who, as seen from the view of the Borgia, got her drunk and set her leg. In reality, he gave her wine to dull her senses, since he had recently run out of painkillers due to having many more patients as of late. Once she was thoroughly sedated (drunk), he was able to work without a problem.

"That should do it. Keep her off that leg for a few weeks, and if she's in a lot of pain you can stop by one of my associates in the city." He said, and dropped the girl back into Arturo's arms, and I'd like to say that was that.

"Alright, so when she wakes up we'll take her back to her house." Casca said as they walked back into their room in the barracks.

Arturo set her down on his bed, "I'm surprised she didn't break her neck on that fall."

Casca sat on his bunk on the opposite side of the room. "I'm surprised she didn't break our necks."

Arturo chuckled, "That's true, I guess."

Not long after this, Passera began to wake up. Her head hurt and she felt nauseous, but the pain in her leg had faded to a dull throb. She groaned, barely remembering her failed leap and the visit to the doctor.

Arturo and Casca both jumped at the sudden noise. They hadn't forgotten their guest; they just weren't paying all that much attention to her.

So, after several hours and some explaining combined with a few introductions followed by food, they were all on decently good terms. Passera, though terrified of encountering the Borgia, let alone being in a guard's home, was grateful for their help.

Chatting over food is probably the easiest way to make friends no matter who you are. Unless you hate food, in which case you should probably sort out some of your problems and focus on not starving before you can make friends.

Now, you see, there was a problem with trying to get Passera home. Did I forget a transition there? Sorry, you seemed bored. Back to the problem: she lived very close to the Assassin's headquarters. This was normal for recruits who weren't on patrol, so they could get information on their assignments quickly and there weren't any prying eyes too close to the base of their operations.

If you didn't get it already, if they brought her home there was a good chance they would notice all the people in white robes or get killed for any number of reasons.

"So, where do you live?" The slightly louder Casca asked.

Passera, with all the wit of a new recruit answered, "Uhhh… You see, I don't exactly live anywhere…"

"Oh, really?" Casca asked, and both captains had a questioning but concerned look on their faces.

"Yes…?" She answered, prepared for them to not believe her.

Arturo and Casca looked at one another and the former said, "Do you think we could?"

"I suppose. It wouldn't be proper though."

"It's not like we're in here all day."

Passera was thoroughly confused as they talked, until Casca said, "One of us would have to sleep in the floor."

Her eyes widened, "Th-that's okay! I have family in the north…"

"It'll just be for a little while." Arturo assured her. "The people across the street are moving out next week and their house is really cheap."

Casca cut in, "Nice cheap, not cheap cheap."

"Oh right, of course, well, you can just stay here until then."

Passera sighed and tried to smiled, "If you insist, I'll stay until then, but not a moment longer." She tried to act rational, but knew that if she just left and they came home to see her gone, they might look for her. She was stuck.

"Alright." They both smiled. Their intentions, for once, were totally innocent; they really were just trying to help.

"Wait a second, Casca…" Arturo had a strange, worried look on his face.

"What is it?"

"We have to ask the captain." They both paused, wide-eyed. Finally, Casca sighed in resignation.

"Let's get this over with…"

"Let me get this straight, you want to keep an outsider in your home? Not only is this person not part of the guard, but a woman as well?" The captain gave them a skeptical look.

Casca was the one to respond, "She's injured and can't walk, and we didn't want to send her away…"

"Does she have family?"

Arturo spoke up this time, "Not within the city, sir."

The captain sighed and sat back in his desk. "I can't imagine what could happen if someone else got wind of this."

"Sir, it's only for a week." Casca started, but then got an idea. "You don't want people to think that the Borgia is letting cripples live on the street, do you?"

The captain gave him an "I don't give a damn" look, "I stopped caring about that long ago." He leaned forward and put his fist against his cheek. "She better be in a house in a week."

"Thank you, sir!" Arturo said, and they got up to leave.

"She better not be a courtesan!" He called after them, and ignored the look the next person gave him when they walked in.

Two Borgia guards now have an Assassin recruit for a roommate. I bet you didn't believe your wonderful narrator when I said things wouldn't stay normal for long.