Altair watched the bar from a back corner table. From his vantage point he could see everything that was going on, and one person in particular. Alanna, he had learned her name from Kadar, sat at a table with Isabella and Ezio, doing shot after shot. He was surprised the girl was able to hold her head up after the fifth one, she laid a kiss on Ezio's cheek, got out of her chair, and made her way through the crowds and towards him.

Her beer slammed down on the table in front of him, and when he looked up, he got an eyeful of a very impressive set of breasts. "You're drunk." Was the first thing that came from his mouth as she grinned at him.

"Hey, I had to do this so I could even come over here." Her head tilted to the side, and an easy grin was on her face. "You know, you're kind of intimidating."

"I am?" Oh he knew he was. People told him that all the time. "So you had to be drunk to walk over here and talk?"

"Yup." And she pulled out the chair, half sitting, and half falling into it. Placing his hand on her upper arm to stabilize her, he sighed.

"So what did you want to talk about?" he knew he was going to regret this, because most likely she wasn't going to remember any of this in the morning light.

Alanna smirked, and went to go take a drink of the beer, he grabbed it from her. "I think you're good."

Her frown creased her forehead, and she nodded slowly. "Think you're right. When I can barely see the bottle, it's time to stop." Then the smile was back in an instant. "Hey, I wanted to say I was sorry for what I said to you a few weeks ago. I was pissed and shouldn't have taken it out on you. Truce?" she held out hand, and he gently shook it. "So we cool?"

Not being able to help it, he laughed. "Yeah Alanna, we're cool."

Raising a brow, she asked. "How the hell do you know my name?"

He grinned. "Kadar."

She laughed, and he wouldn't admit it out loud, but he liked the sound of it. "Ah, that explains it. So, Altair," she motioned him to move closer, which he complied. "Can I beg a favor if you're not too busy?"

"Oh, and what's that?" Altair asked.

"Can you, uh, take me home? Izzy is too infatuated with Desmond to know I've even left," pointing the red head who he could tell was making doe eyes at the bartender, "and as much as I like Ezio, he drives me up a wall! I swear someone needs to neuter him. You know, like you would a male dog. It might curb that high sex drive he has."

Altair bit his lip to stop from laughing too loudly, but it was hurting to contain it. "Some would agree with you. I'm one of them." The girl had a good sense of humor. "If you're ready to go, I'll take you home, but I walked here. Hopefully you can too."

Her smile went from playful to coy. "At least I know I have a good looking leaning post if I need it." And with that, she wandered back over to the table, grabbed he was guessing her purse, said her goodbyes, and met him at the door.

They hadn't even made it a block before he had pulled her from the curb a few times, he finally rolled his eyes. "Alanna." She looked up at his, her eyes closing slowly, and that was the end for her. The liquor had finally caught up with her, and she passed out right there on the street.

Not thinking about it, he picked her up bridal style before she could hit the pavement and carried her the remaining block to the apartment building. Not one to dig through women's purses, and she wasn't in the best mood to ask. So doing the only thing he could think of, Altair unlocked his door, and laid her on the couch.

Grabbing a waste basket, he sat it near her head, and covered her up with a light blanket. Kneeling on the floor beside her, gently he moved a few stray hairs from her face. She was young, maybe the same age as Kadar. Shaking his head, he got up, and headed for his room.

The morning came, and as to be expected, she was still passed out on his couch, mouth slightly open, and one leg hanging off the edge, with an arm thrown over her face. Chuckling quietly, Altair went through with his morning routine. Shower, shave, and then coffee. As he stood in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to finish its brew, he could hear the telltale sounds of Alanna beginning to wake up.

Getting a glass of water, and a few ibuprofen, he walked out to the living room. "Morning." He called out to her, causing her to jump.

Her eyes were wide with fright as she took the apartment. "Where am I?" She asked, her eyes finally meeting his.

He held out the pills and the water, which she gratefully took. "You passed out on the way back here last night, and I wasn't about to go through your purse to find your keys. So, being a good neighbor, I let you crash on my couch."

Her slim fingers wrapped around the glass after she had taken the pain relievers, and he took a seat in the chair. "I guess I should say thank you. You didn't have to though. I could have stayed with Isabella."

So she didn't remember anything from last night. "You don't remember walking over to me and apologizing about our first meeting?" She shrugged and tilted her hand side to side, indicating that she vaguely knew what he was talking about. "Yeah, I watched you hammer back like five shots and then drank another half of a beer. I was surprised that you could even walk."

Alanna's cheeks flared scarlet. "I am so sorry for anything I said or did last night. I'm an idiot when it comes to alcohol."

Altair waved it off. "You didn't say or do anything embarrassing. You were actually better behaved than most of the people I know who get drunk. At least you knew when to ask for someone to take you home."

She blushed once more, and he found it cute that she did it so often. "Hopefully I didn't ruin your night."

Leaning back in his chair, he shook his head. "Nope. I just normally go down there to get out of the house. Don't even drink most of the time, just people watch. Quality source of entertainment when the college kids drink. Michael doesn't mind if I take a table. He owns the bar, and I play bouncer if they need it."

Looking up at him through her long lashes, she gave him a shy smile. "Well, thank you again for not letting me make a fool out of myself." Leaning forward, she sat the glass on the table. "Hey, can I make you breakfast? You know, for what you did for me last night? It's the least I can do."

He was about to turn her down, because he didn't expect any repayment, but Alanna gave him a small pouty face, and he sighed. "Okay," he nodded, and with a smile he added playfully, "but it had better be good."

Forty-five minutes later, he wasn't disappointed. Altair leaned back in the chair at her small table with a content sigh. He hadn't felt this full in a while. His meals normally came from a deli or a microwave. Cooking was not his thing. When he managed to nearly burn his last apartment down from trying to make macaroni and cheese, he gave up.

"That was impressive." He grinned at her, and she returned it as she drank her coffee. "Where the hell did you learn to cook like that?" Gesturing to the remaining bites of an enormous omelet.

Alanna chuckled as she sat her mug down. "My Memaw. Every Sunday we would make a huge breakfast just for us. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, the whole nine yards. Then, as I got older, we switched to other recipes. Something to challenge us. It was a way to spend more time together, even though I lived with her." Her eyes took on a faraway look for a moment. As if to remember the times fondly. "I miss those days."

Curious, he picked up his mug. "Where is she now?" he asked.

"Died three months ago. That's why I moved out here. Too many memories out there, and decided that I needed a fresh start from them." Her eyes went to the top of the table as if it was the most fascinating thing on the planet. "Nothing there to hold me anyway."

"Where are your parents?" And instantly he regretted asking, because her head dropped, and he knew he was broaching a sensitive subject. "I don't mean to pry. It's just I'm trying to get to know you."

Her head lifted and she gave him a sad smile, causing his heart to go out to her. "It's alright. Both of my parents are dead. Mom died in a crash when I was ten, and my dad was a soldier who was killed in Afghanistan when I was eleven. I've had a few years to come to grips with their deaths."

So she was like him, which was nice to know. All of his friends had come from good homes with their mom and dad's. He felt like an outcast a lot of the time because had been raised by his grandparents. "I was raised by my grandparents as well. Mom died when I was not a year old yet, and my dad traveled a lot for work. When I was seventeen, my grandfather passed, leaving me to care for my ailing grandmother. She didn't live much longer than him." His father didn't even make it back for the funeral. Some excuse, but he didn't care at that point. They were never close.

Her head cocked to the side like a curious bird. "No aunts, uncles?"

He nodded. "My mom has a brother, but he came out as being gay when I was in my teens. My dad was an only child. Same here. Never remarried when my mom passed."

She laughed lightly. "My mom and dad were both only children. Memaw had my mom late in life, and Pop Pop passed when I was three, I think. Never knew my dad's real parents. He was adopted when he was a few days old, and all he knew from his searching was he was born to Syrian immigrants. His adopted father died a few years before I was born and his adopted mother died around my second birthday. They were in their forties when they adopted him. Tried for years to have a child of their own, but nothing worked. Finally decided to adopt." Alanna gave a genuine smile. "You know, it's actually nice to talk to someone that actually understands. I would get some strange looks in school when I would tell people I lived with my grandmother."

He returned it with one of his own. "I know that feeling."