Chapter 4

Two weeks... Desmond had been stuck in Malik's office for two weeks now. He'd had to get used to the food, the new clothes Malik had given him (his own were too weird) and, above all, the sweltering heat that knocked him out for the first three days. The master of the Bureau had not been shy about making fun of him. He'd almost got used to Malik's insistent gaze, as if trying to unlock the boy's mysteries. He never let him out of his sight. Desmond did, however, manage to obtain his privacy for the bathroom. That was a hill he was ready to die on... no joke.

No, the only and perpetual problem was as usual… Altaïr.

Flashback

It had been two days since Desmond had arrived in Jerusalem. Malik glanced at the room that served as his bedroom. The young man hadn't left his bed since the evening of his arrival. He seemed weak against the heat, which was an aberration for the black-haired man. But the boy contracted a fever, so he'd been merciful and let him sleep.

Leaning over his map, he heard a muffled sound coming from the courtyard. Altair entered the study a few seconds later.

- Peace and serenity, Malik, greeted the assassin.

- Peace and serenity, Altair. What are you doing here? I don't have a mission for you.

- I've come to wait until evening to take the road to Masyaf.

- Hmmf... can't you go and bother someone else?

Altair didn't answer and simply went to lie down on the cushions in the room, removing his hood to enjoy the coolness of the office. As he closed his eyes, he felt a gaze upon him. Surprised, he looked up at Malik, who was watching him intently. Malik usually ignored him as far as possible until he left. So this attention was quite strange.

- What's wrong? he finally asked.

- Hmm... He looks a lot like you...

Altaïr raised a questioning eyebrow. Malik hesitated for a moment, then relented. He was very curious about the reaction he could get from the assassin.

- Two days ago, a young man was standing in front of the office. He was wearing very strange clothes. But the most interesting thing about him was his physical appearance.

Altair stared at him, not really knowing what he was getting at. A wry smile stretched the black-haired man's face.

- He looks just like you.

The assassin's eyebrows immediately furrowed.

- An almost exact replica of you, if we exclude the color of his eyes and hair," Malik insisted.

- Really... grumbled Altair.

- Yes, really, confirmed the black-haired man. But unlike you, at least he's got a nice character. He's not stupidly arrogant like a certain novice.

Altair let out a dull growl as he squinted his eyes. He was sure Malik was making fun of him.

- And where is this young man? Altaïr asked coldly.

- He's not here at the moment, lied Malik.

- Obviously...

The assassin's eyes burned with a dangerous gleam. It was inconceivable that anyone could have the same face as him. He was an only child and had no family. Malik couldn't be serious... but he sure seemed to be.

Malik could feel the tension building in his opposite number. He laughed under his breath, Altaïr was currently feeling threatened by a guy who couldn't stand the heat of Jerusalem just because he wore the same face.

He went back to work, leaving Altair still very confused.

End Flashback

Malik hadn't been able to resist annoying the assassin with Desmond's existence. However, he hadn't taken into account the great curiosity he had aroused in the other man. Indeed, Altair began to drop in unexpectedly at the office. He was determined to meet the individual who was supposed to be his double. And for Desmond, it was pure hell. He lived in fear of being caught by the assassin. Malik blamed himself for putting the young man in a complicated situation. But the day when Altair would take him by surprise had not yet come.

It was still early when Malik set to work, bent over his parchments, tracing symbols on the map he'd brought out. Desmond was sitting on the cushions on the other side of the room, enjoying the early morning coolness. He'd finally gotten used to the Jerusalem temperature.

- Desmond, Malik called.

Desmond's head snapped up.

- Fetch me the three scrolls on the shelf, indicated the black-haired man.

Desmond stood up quickly and searched for the scrolls. The nice thing about this boy was that he never complained when Malik was asking him things. Having experienced Altair's execrable character for years, it was very satisfying to have someone who didn't heave an exaggerated sigh at the slightest effort. The dark-haired man approached the desk where Malik was sitting with the requested documents.

- Here.

But as he passed them to him, he felt the other man tense up. Malik grabbed his wrist and threw him under the desk.

- Peace and serenity Malik.

- Peace and serenity Altaïr.

The protest Desmond was about to make immediately caught in his throat. He stopped breathing for a moment for fear of being overheard. The space under the desk was very limited and he quickly became aware of the uncomfortable situation he was in. With his upper body wedged between the desk master's thighs, he didn't dare move. He had always sorely missed human contact. All his life he'd been on the run. He'd had to distrust everyone. No one had ever taken the time to consider him as anything other than a tool, a means of saving the world or destroying it. And now, pinned against the black-haired man's body, he could feel its warmth seeping into his skin.

- What are you still doing here, novice, Malik snapped.

- I need information on my next target, replied Altair, looking around him.

Altaïr could swear he had heard the voice of another individual when he arrived.

- You won't find them here but outside! snapped Malik, annoyed.

The assassin's insistence was really becoming unbearable. Malik couldn't go a day without the jerk dropping in unannounced. Not to mention that the situation was putting his young hostage on edge. He glanced at Desmond, taking advantage of Altair's visit to the kitchen, pretending he was hungry. He was very surprised to discover that the young man had his face hidden against his thigh. He could see that his ears were scarlet.

Malik wondered if he was feeling ill. Perhaps the fever he'd had was returning. Worried, he placed his hand gently on Desmond's forehead. Desmond's body jerked and he raised his head towards Malik. The Bureau's master felt a long shiver run down his spine as he took in the crimson face. Their eyes met for a moment before Desmond turned away. It seemed the dark-haired man was quick to flush in embarrassing situations. However, what Malik could read in the mysterious young man's eyes was not embarassement but a feeling of an entirely different nature.

He had to kick out Altair out of his office as soon as possible! Before he lost his temper.