CHAPTER 6:

Don't Forget To Pack Grass


Vivian crept along the empty hallway of the topmost level of Masyaf, both in shock and awe that she was able to touch historic walls that were full of life at the moment instead of the empty decrepit version of her time. Her fingers traced over the gritty wall as she tried to scope out the hallway for anyone unknown that might see her and call her an infidel. It was annoying hearing it in the game and in this time, even more aggravating to the fact that they couldn't improve their vocabulary pool. Losing her head was not on her to-do list today and knew that damn assassin would be grinning from ear-to-ear at being judge, jury, and executioner.

I blame my fangirl brain for bringing me here, I hope you're happy, she thought sarcastically to her inner mind as her fingertips tapped against the walls. We could've been learning about the Crusades from a book but no-o-o-o, you wanted to play AC. Now look where we are!

She walked for minutes, wondering if Masyaf had invented mazes for its long corridors and was about to give up on finding an exit when she happened to literally stumble upon a stairway.

The hall had curved slightly as it reached the end of the floor and Vivian missed seeing the first step since rails were nonexistent there. She avoided falling down the stairs like a ball and possibly causing her first serious injury by digging her nails into the top step as the gritty stone scratched the tips. Her ankles hurt slightly since they took the brunt of the fall but she sighed aloud in relief.

"How do old people take the stairs here and not fall?" she pondered for a moment because the stairway just shot at you from nowhere and shook her head. This time frame wasn't to be taken lightly and she knew it would be throwing all of its archaic dangers at her. And here she thought Altaïr was the 1 danger to avoid.

With a disgruntled grumble, she descended the stairway to land on the lower floor without any freak accidents. Oh, what she'd give for an elevator. She sat on the last step to return her ragged and labored breathing back down to normal since the small stairwell could make anyone claustrophobic.

Kicking herself up again, she took a deep breath to muster her courage to travel onwards and walked down the hallway to face whomever resided there. There were few wooden doors on the level and she pushed each gently to pry them open discreetly, pulling the leather latch that stuck outside that served as the entry key for those that needed to open it from the outside. Of course, all Vivian saw were more of the awful lumpy beds, a few armoires, and an unoccupied room. She assumed they belonged to the assassins and shut each of the doors to hide her recent entrance.

Part of her was relieved to be alone where no danger would present itself but at the same time, had that sense of impending doom that the next door would have assassins pointing their shiny knives at her. Cue in the Benny Hill music and her frantic running around Masyaf would give the Crusades its first dark comedy.

The good thing about the hallways were that they were indeed cooler than the rooms themselves and the lower she descended on the levels, the better the temperature became to her clammy skin. By the fifth flight down and a lot of tired raggedy breathing later, Vivian wished there was a drop of water anywhere in the fortress to replenish her energy. Even sucking water from the wall crevices would've sufficed her cotton ball mouth.

Her hearing picked up a few clicks and disappointed grumbling from the end of the hall which put her on alert instantly since she was trespassing without Altaïr being none the wiser. Her back pressed against the warm wall that radiated the heat of the sun's rays and groaned mentally, wishing it was winter time instead. How was wintertime in Syria anyway? Shaking her head from her ponderings, she inched closer to the only door that was echoing noise down the hall and could hear the tinkering of metal going on from inside.

She took a careful peek over the open doorway and her eyes widened to see the entire room covered with metal creations, strewn papers, cut wood, and other materials needed for crafting. In the center, stood a young man of eighteen with suntanned skin and a shaggy mane of thick black hair while his angular face was covered in black soot in random areas.

Enthralled with what the man was doing at his work table, Vivian failed to notice that he'd become aware of her presence and his amused voice spoke up, "You may enter. I don't bite but I can't assure my creations won't."

Vivian jumped back at being discovered, cursing her curiosity for getting her noticed and reluctantly entered with short meek steps. It was a good thing his assassin robes were gray in several areas so she wouldn't have to feel embarrassed over her own dirty and sweaty apparel that would scare any hypochondriac. The young man set down the two metal pieces of copper he'd been holding and turned around to greet with a friendly smile, "Hmm, are you a new recruit that's lost? I've never seen you before. . .then again, most don't visit me on this level."

His tone of voice was tickling her curiosity again but in order to get information, she'd have to say something. She could either falsify her identity by clinging to the 'recruit' role or tell the truth and possibly alarm all of Masyaf.

"I'm, uh, Nadira" she lied with a small smile, using the only name she could think of to fit in this realm. Her background of historic culture in the Asian continent wasn't the best since she'd yet to take such classes and added in quickly, "I just arrived yesterday and am very lost."

"I didn't hear of any women joining the Order, it is a rare occurrence" he contemplated about that fact and Vivian's hands began to sweat as she believed she was done for. Any moment now, she'd be tied up by assassins and Altaïr would be sharpening an executor's sword without giving her a chance to explain. Instead, the young man smiled as he wiped a soot smudge on his cheek and spoke brightly, "You must have impressed the recruiters. Good for you."

Vivian wasn't a compulsive liar by all means but after learning enough history through her schooling, she found it easy to make up a decent back story using that and her fictional readings. She faked a small sigh that was becoming of a damsel in distress and took on a somber expression to explain, "My parents migrated from Alexandria after too much political conflict but it seems Jerusalem is the same nowadays with the Crusades. My family can't afford to feed six children so I decided to seek my own independence by selling candles from town to town."

She tried not to laugh at the made up job and sighed woefully for dramatics, "Oh, how I thought my goods would sell but apparently, people would rather buy from men rather than a woman. Business was down so I wandered the caravan roads all on my own, selling candles until I got tired of them. Candles weren't a good food staple so I had to do something! I decided to become a pickpocket at that point and in return for stealing people's goods, I placed my candles in their place," placing her hands on her hips, she posed dramatically and finished proudly, "Soon, I became 'The Candle Giving Burglar'."

Finishing her melodramatic lie, she expected the young man to call her out on it but found herself shocked when he stood there with a grin of excitement on his face, "Fascinating! I mean, your rise to being accepted. . .not the poor candle vendor part."

Holy crap, he actually bought it, she thought with shocked stupor and decided she liked his gullible sweet nature since he wasn't brandishing a knife at her.

He motioned to his work room that was piled with every malleable material imaginable and she couldn't see an inch of open space that was clear (except for the open windows that kept him from suffocating) as stocked shelves littered the place. With a polite bow of his head, he introduced himself, "I am Bashir. As you can see, I create many things for my brothers to aid in their missions but some of my ideas don't work out very well."

"You're an inventor?" she asked impressed to his job description since she'd expected an interrogator rank with his office location and he nodded agreeably. Suddenly, his appearance didn't seem as threatening as before- the friendly smile charmed her easily- and Vivian admitted slowly, "But you're so. . .young."

"Altaïr tells me the same, mostly because the majority of my gadgets backfire but I'm not a quitter" he sighed depressingly but thumped his chest with a determined fist. His face broke into a grin the next second as he declared proudly toward the ceiling, "My pepper bombs did the trick on blinding guards and I'm sure my skunk urine bombs will repel away enemies."

. . .

Bashir blinked with confusion at Vivian's abrupt deadpan face and asked, "What?"

"I think that would be dangerous for both the assassin and the enemy" she stated gently to dissuade him from such an idea that would have any unfortunate assassin coughing his or her lungs out. She did give Bashir the credit for attempting such a. . .interesting thing and asked with intrigue, "How in the world would you get skunk urine?"

The man tapped his soot covered chin with calloused fingertips (Vivian guessed from all the constant Spiderman climbing) and pondered aloud, "I'm not exactly sure. The forest would be my first try and trapping them would give me a sense of how to catch it."

He appeared deflated at his new idea being shot down by a rookie but understood the reasonable meaning behind the objection. Skunk urine was a good repellant but Bashir didn't think the Order would want to wash their robes ten times until all of the stink was gone and even then, they might create more robes and take it out on him for coming up with the idea in the first place. He decided to put it on the 'maybe' category for the time being and brightened up to ask, "Would you like to see my new invention?"

Vivian didn't mind that at all. . .as long as she could stand behind him in case of blowback. Bashir ushered for her to move to his wooden table that served as his workbench and revealed to her an average assassin's gauntlet before strapping it onto his wrist. His fingers hovered on the underside of the gauntlet as he explained excitedly, "See, what it does is that it shoots small knives as projectiles. The mechanics are still in development due to the lack of sufficient technology but with our modern crossbows, I've used the same schematics to work the small blade into it."

He pointed it toward the open doorway as she watched him carefully with hidden awe and he continued enthusiastically at seeing her complete attention, "All you need to activate it is the reflex of your fingers in similarity to revealing the hidden knife and from there. . ."

Bashir proceeded to demonstrate his new creation and shot the knife at the open doorway. Gleeful curiosity turned to horror on both their faces when Altaïr stepped through the doorway in all of his impassive glory and both awaited the man to be accidentally stabbed. Luck, however, was on their side and the knife went off at a different angle. . .stabbing the wooden door that rested against the wall to the left. The Grand Master stopped immediately as he saw the embedded knife, noticing how close he'd come to being injured in his own home and targeted the two culprits inside the room.

He knew Bashir was an innocent danger to society which is why he placed him on one of the highest floors where nobody but the most experienced had the stamina to climb. Bashir could only stammer nervously in fear when he was pinned by Altaïr's icy gaze and offered a genuine but shaky apology, "Grand Master, I-I-I- oh dear."

"Bashir, I've told you many times to close the door-" he began to reprimand tightly because windows served the purpose of providing air and nobody to accidentally impale through the doorway. His voice halted when he noticed a certain dark-haired woman in the room that kept irking him for the past day. Her feeble attempt to hide behind the inventor failed and the master assassin directed a feral glare at her to bellow, "You!"

"Gih!" she squealed in fear to his sudden rage spike and scuttled to the opposite side of the table for temporary protection from the assassin. It served as a decent shield and Vivian hoped to survive the new encounter with the dangerous Altaïr because he looked downright mad. It wasn't her fault the knife launched at him!

The young inventor was unaware to the true dynamics between the two individuals and innocently stated with a perky smile, "Oh, I see you've met our recruit, Nadira. She's very friendly-"

"The woman is a scheming liar" his leader spat acidly to cut off any charms the harpy might have succeeded with the young assassin and pointed a warning finger at Vivian to command coldly, "Get over here!"

"Like I'm really going to trust you not to hurt me with that crazy look in your eyes" she shot back wryly and kept dodging the man as he followed her movements fluidly across the table with his flexibility. Vivian took it as an advantage since she doubted he'd carelessly ruin all of Bashir's work by jumping over the table and groaned miserably when Altaïr brought everything into the open, "Her name is Vivian Bore-"

"Shore, you drowning sugar cube!" she cut in sharply at being wrongly named by the cruel beast and dodged a strong hand from across that tried to grasp the front of her shirt.

Altaïr didn't appreciate her disrespectful behavior nor her ability to keep dodging him and scolded his younger subordinate with the order, "Don't just stand there. Get her!"

Vivian didn't want to hurt Bashir's creations but for the price of her own life, grabbed a sharpened metal stick that was roughly two feet in length and had little straps of cloth tied around it with inches of space in between. Altaïr went on the defense since he'd no idea what it was and Vivian grinned wildly at finally having an ace up her sleeve. She made a throwing motion to the rude assassin but he paid her no heed, knowing he could knock her to the ground before she could strike with it. As he charged forward, she threw the metal stick with a triumphant 'hyah!' and he stopped to assess the situation. All three watched with deadpan expressions as the creation broke into three separate pieces in mid-air before clattering to the floor with a 'tink'. . .more than a feet away from Altaïr and actually closer to Vivian.

"Hmm, you really should've thought that out" Altaïr commented dryly to the horrible execution of her retaliation and almost pitied the wench as she stared at the broken pieces.

The metal pieces rolled over the floor, prompting Altaïr to aim a glare at the woman as his anger renewed, and Vivian sighed in miserable defeat, "I must have the crappiest luck in the universe. Like Obi-Wan and Commander Shepard bad!"

He growled irritably to her nonsensical babblings and snapped harshly, "Wench, are you coming willingly or will I have to drag you kicking and screaming?"

"You dare to drag me and you'll be singing in alto for months, pal" she threatened to his horrible attitude and fisted her hand to show she meant business. Actually, she'd rather kick him in the family jewels than use her fist but he understood the meaning quite clearly. The two stared off to assert dominance over the other but a shattering sound of glass broke their gazes away.

They turned to see Bashir sullenly staring at a spot that was suddenly becoming cloudy with white smoke and he complained to accuse them, "Look what you made me do! Now the smoke gas will be everywhere."

Vivian took this opening to run into the getaway smoke that was now filtering in front of the doorway and covered her mouth as she accomplished her hasty escape. She knew watching those spy films were good for something. Altaïr didn't waste a second and chased after her with the same determination, leaving poor Bashir to fix his broken remnants of experiments.

He sighed softly to himself and grabbed a nearby broom from the corner of his workshop, mumbling under his breath, "Maybe I need to be on the highest level."

Altaïr had expected the woman to possess crafty skills worthy of a cunning spy that he could use as evidence against her lies and possible hidden schemes. . .but no. If at all, he might have had to agree with Malik after what he endured in witnessing over the past ten minutes.

He'd chased her down the stairways of Masyaf like a limber wolf while the woman staggered on every level like a sick deer, stumbling and falling more than once on every stairwell. The assassin decided to blame a lack of nutrition on her reflexes at first but when she fell in front of the main stairway that led to the base level that nobody- not even the blind- could miss, he began to have second thoughts on her resourcefulness.

As he had watched her sprawled on the floor on her back like a helpless turtle, Altaïr grabbed her by the right foot and proceeded to literally drag Vivian back up the stairs with no remorse. She didn't hesitate to use her last ounces of strength to kick him away, landing a well aimed kick to his rear end that resulted with a dusty foot imprint but yelped when her head struck the first step of the stairs. Poor Vivian had been ready to yell aloud about human rights when Malik came to her rescue and Altaïr reluctantly let him take her to the interrogation room.

And this is where the two found themselves as Vivian's clothes were wrinkled, dirty, sweaty, and lightly torn in several areas while Altaïr's appearance remained flawlessly immaculate. Oh, how she was growing to despise that damn smug character she'd grown to like playing as.

"Damn it, I should've bought the Ezio cutout" she muttered disdainfully under her breath and knew that damn purchase would ruin her life. Damn Ubisoft and its alluring characters. Why didn't she follow human instinct instead of fan girl hormones? She struggled in the chair he'd secured her in and glared at the floor to snap irately at herself, "At least he would've seduced me before killing me. I'm getting nothing from this guy!"

She wiggled her hands in an attempt to free them since Altaïr had tied them behind the chair and she hoped splinters would not be added to her list of troubles today. The temperature of the room was already warm enough and she groaned aloud, feeling beads of sweat already forming as she wondered how these people withstood the heat. She was ready to change clothes already and it was barely the afternoon!

Maybe it's part of their training but I'm boiling like a lobster, she thought uncomfortably and hung her head in defeat to her treatment.

"We're going to have a talk and if you do not behave," the assassin began coldly with a low tone that set the mood for the interrogation and unsheathed his hidden knife to carefully trail the sharp end over the line of her jaw as she trembled lightly, "we are going to have a problem. I'm sure you don't want me to hurt you, now do you, Vivian?"

Vivian tried to edge away from the knife as the cold steel felt alien to her warm flesh and cursed her impulsive nature when she argued back instantaneously, "You're lousy at reverse psychology if you're trying to be good cop/bad cop all in one."

A frustrated growl settled in his throat as the woman was grinding his last nerve and he dug into one of the handy pockets on his belt to grip a round metal object. He didn't want to turn into his former master but if the woman refused to give him the truth, there was only one ultimatum for an unruly prisoner (besides death). His voice was eerily calm along with his stoic face, in comparison to the grumbling Vivian who refused to meet his eye, and he stated coolly, "I didn't want to use this but if you won't answer my questions-"

A glint of silver caught her eye as his hand moved and Vivian closed her eyes instantly at knowing what that damn orb could do because what else could it be? He wasn't about to be holding a bomb of dangerous gas in this era. It was a shame she couldn't plug her ears to mute all her senses and snapped acidly to object, "Who do you think I am, Snow White? I'm not taking one bite from that apple, pal."

"So you do know what this is?" he grilled with a smug smirk at attaining an answer he'd been looking for but she resisted from opening her eyes and shooting him a flabbergasted look. Oh, how she itched to slap him silly.

"Of course I know! I've been telling you my whole damn story since we met!" she shouted indignantly to his lack of focus and grit her teeth because he wasn't getting her honesty through his thick cloak covered head. She scoffed under her breath since he'd be getting nothing but the truth anyway and remarked curtly, "If you don't want to believe me, fine. Why don't you go play drop ball with that thing!"

. . .

"Figure that out, smarty pants" she snorted dryly before spitting out a few salty droplets of sweat that fell on her lips. She'd always obeyed the rules and behaved politely with others to receive the same but never in her life did she think this kind of treatment was in store for her. Had karma gotten her name mixed in with a murderer's? Explanations were nonexistent in this hellhole of a life she was experiencing now and prayed to whatever deity truly existed in this timeline (the origins of the pieces of Eden weren't making it easier for each existing religion) to get her the heck out of there.

"Look at me, woman!" he demanded furiously to her audacity and she stuck out her tongue defiantly as she kept her eyes tightly closed. The second his fingers grasped her throat, she shut her mouth and wriggled in her seat because being strangled was not a good alternative to being stabbed or mind controlled. Her defense on verbal retaliation broke at his dangerous action as the possibility of sudden death frightened her to the core and she conceded with a strangled voice, "I'll tell you what you want! Just don't point your silver crystal ball or kill me without giving me the chance to bathe first!"

His fingers squeezed tighter against her windpipe and his ears were gratified by the fright he'd worked hard to induce since meeting her. She was willful like no other woman, with the exception of Maria whose features were vaguely similar. He knew how much pressure to apply on her throat to maintain consciousness and wouldn't break the bones of her throat unless he absolutely had to. Despite her annoyance, Vivian was still a civilian and was innocent until proven guilty. If he was a man of lesser honor, he would've snapped her neck seconds ago without waiting for her next breath. Sharply, he demanded the first answer, "Tell me your name."

He lessened the pressure to allow her frightened pipsqueak of an answer, "Vivian Shore."

His fingertips could feel the pulse of her artery beating faster than her labored breathing and decided to trust his instinct that she was correct. However, he wanted to delve as deep as he could into who this woman was and where she truly belonged.

"Who are your parents? Your family?"

Her eyebrows furrowed against her closed eyes as she replied hastily, "My father is Andrew Shore, born in Oregon and attended Complutense University of Madrid where he met my mother, Monica Ruiz. They married, came to the United States to each practice pharmacy and journalism where they had my sisters and I. They might be little devils but Penelope and Natalia are all that I have left of my mother, and we're all my father has. We live in a small home in Berkeley where I attend school and study history. I know it's not the best major with our crappy economy but I love it and my family needs me."

His grip loosened to the strange words but he'd heard of the city of Madrid, although very far and foreign, so he knew she was of Spanish origin. He'd ask her to speak its language to affirm her proposed claim but first, he wanted more information from the squeaking mouse that trembled. Unyielding, he kept the interrogation going, "Where do you hail from?"

"I told you, Berkeley" she insisted irritably and he pressed down on her windpipe again to get her talking. The compression hurt sharply as her chest cramped to the lack of oxygen in her lungs and Vivian rambled quickly, "Across the ocean, in the states, um, America. Oh god, how can I explain this without sounding crazy? That continent I showed you when I arrived, it has a place called Berkeley all the way to the west where it borders the next ocean, the Pacific, and that's where I live. The summers are dry and the winters are soaking wet, we get fog because of the bay and um. . ."

"How did you get here?" he snapped because her babbles about weather sounded a little too Mediterranean for him. Her claim on being from the west could solidify a case of espionage since Templars were rampant in just about every country.

"I don't know! That's why you all think I'm crazy" she blurted helplessly but her tone wavered as she furrowed her brows in concentration to recollect everything. If he wanted the truth, he could have every piece and she explained worriedly, "I. . .I was playing at home with my game system, playing your game-"

"My game?" he asked incredulously to what she preached religiously and resisted from laughing dryly at the ridiculous idea. His life, a game?

She nodded meekly as she treaded on thin ice with the assassin and answered quickly, "Assassin's Creed. . .well, there's also the sequel but Natalia hogs it to herself-"

He sighed with aggravation for her veering off the subject completely and ordered briskly, "Stay on point, woman."

"I was playing and I fell down after. . .well, something frightened me" she mumbled pitifully to hide what really happened between her fear of an inanimate Altaïr cutout and her unscheduled trip to meeting the floor. That was a part that definitely needed to be left out to save the last shreds of her dignity and she fast forwarded to the end which was all he really wanted, "I hit my head pretty badly and blacked out-"

"Blacked out?" he asked carefully with a bit of confusion to her phrase and she slumped in her chair at his lack of knowledge on common day phrases. What was the phrase in this time? Vivian reminded herself to be careful since history pertaining to the pre-1600s was all about religion with little mind to scientific explanations so her futuristic talks could have her on a burning pyre or on the gallows by sundown.

"Yes, it means 'fainted' and 'unconscious'. . .you know, what you did to me when we were heading here" she pointed out dryly because she didn't appreciate being knocked out like that. The back of her neck was already sore with a bruise from it and being dragged up the stairways on her back didn't help it any.

Not wanting to test his patience on choking prisoners, she finished hastily to set herself free, "Anyway, I woke up in front of a house as people walked by in the street and I thought my sisters played a joke on me because I wouldn't put it past them. However, my clothes were entirely different and I felt out of place immediately with the lack of diversity there. In my world, people of all cultural backgrounds walk the streets so I was really taken aback. Culture shock, if you will. I tried to help a little child but apparently, murder in public is still okay in this era but in mine, you'd be spending a lifetime sentence in jail. Long story short, I ran from the guards and bumped into you so immediately, I concluded I was dreaming so," her flushed cheeks reddened further to what she'd blurted aloud in his presence and muttered uncomfortably, "um. . .I said some pretty stupid things, didn't I?"

"Not as illogical as this" he mumbled with an exhausted sigh because the answers she gave weren't what he was looking for. She kept spouting nonsense that could fit in a carefully crafted make believe world. . .or an authentic one. Gritting his teeth, he began pulling at strings to see if she cracked under the pressure and asked coldly, "What are Templars?"

"You mean the bucket heads that take forever to die?" she muttered dryly to the annoying antagonists that popped out of nowhere and the blasted showdown with Robert's followers near the end of the game. Her tied hands clenched at the bothersome Templars that had her pulling her hair out at times and she spat acidly, "I wish there was a button where you could take off that stupid helmet and beat them to death with it."

The master assassin stared at her outburst with bewilderment since he expected her to declare the Templars as her glorious associates rather than the colorful words she used. Flatly, he finalized with regretful admittance, "I assume you hate them."

"You're damn right I do, they gang up on you and bring along those stupid city guards with their 'infidel' but instead of having a triple threat fight, you end up being the number one enemy!" she exclaimed huffily to all the grief they'd given her, with one particular instance that had her fighting off a Templar and fourteen guards, and Altaïr decided to switch the subject away from that. He understood none of her 'game' babble but her scathing words against the Templars was easily detectable.

"If you aren't lying, tell me everything you know about my world" he demanded coldly to decipher the truth in her words but wasn't comforted by the tiny smirk that grew on her oval face.

"Starting from Solomon's Temple or when you became a novice all over again?" she asked casually in regards to everything she'd played on the AC games or read about online when her geeky mind was idle and bored. Her cocky tone didn't reassure Altaïr, whose unyielding mind was screaming that she was lying when every word starting with his arrival at that temple began to pour out from her mouth.

Unfortunately, his hesitance brought on her knowledge to his mission at Solomon's temple and every vivid detail she described pushed her status away from 'spy' and 'lunatic' to the impossible 'time traveler'. She knew her way around Damascus, Acre, and Jerusalem despite not knowing a thing about current times when he asked his own series of questions which had him breaking the skin of his palms with his clenched fingers. His conversations with people during his adventures flowed from her tongue as easily as he'd spoken each word months ago and he had no use for the Apple as her green eyes peered into his without flickering away. A liar would not hold their interrogator's eyes for such a long time and by the time she finished, Vivian had recounted the entire ordeal with the piece of Eden.

"I'd tell you what happens after that but I don't want to ruin the space-time continuum and ruin the future for the Order" she mumbled sheepishly about the possibility of collapsing the entire universe since physics wasn't her field and smacked her dry lips together. Her mouth felt like a cotton ball already and she asked with a tired ragged voice, "Do you believe me now?"

Yes, do you believe her?, his own mind echoed as he imagined Malik's face telling him 'I told you so' later on and grit his teeth at this new inconvenience. He wanted to be rid of her altogether but now, he had to figure out what to do with her. How do I deal with a woman that actually traveled through time? It's. . .inconceivable!

Her breath shook from the surreal fearful life she was now living and she insisted, "I'm telling the truth. I don't need a reason to lie, not even under the Apple's control. You could ask me anything and I'd try to answer it to the best of my knowledge. All I know is that I'm lost here, Altaïr, and I don't know what to do. As man who's changed for the better, I plead for you to understand my plight. Please?"

Vivian was on the verge of tears because being alone without anybody familiar was painful enough and flinched when he walked forward, his form imposing over hers as she feared the worst. She expected a slap or a fierce yell to the face and closed her eyes as her body betrayed her by trembling. Her stubborn façade could stand up to anything in her time but being blasted back to the 12th century could shatter anyone into a mental breakdown. Seconds later, she heard cutting from behind and her hands became free from their imprisonment as her back muscles relaxed to the release of pressure. She drew her hands forward to massage the sore wrists, rubbing the red skin gingerly in an attempt to soothe it, as she glanced warily at him to ask with a whisper, "Why?"

"Because as much as I hate to admit it, you're being truthful" he muttered flatly with a scowl because he really didn't want to release her and wanted all of his assumptions to be true. It would be so much easier to be done with her but apparently, his life was never going to be easy and Altaïr had to regrettably accept the new problem called 'Vivian'. She already reminded him of a peasant child with her unkempt appearance as she glanced at him suspiciously and he stated coldly with authority, "Your life is spared so I suggest you take full opportunity to live it. Others aren't so lucky."

"I'm in the past, I'm liable to die here within the week" she pointed out bluntly because her street smarts for this era were nonexistent and crossed her arms to sigh aloud. Oh, she would hate herself forever for pleading to that arrogant man but saw no other alternative, "I hate to ask but. . .I need help going home. I know you and Malik are doing some super secret assassin stuff but if there's a library or anyone that's heard-"

"There's never been a case like this, it's preposterous" he admitted stiffly because he wasn't that cruel to kick her out on her ass to fend for herself (although his ego laughed at the idea) and shook his head, leaning back against the desk. Despite her unfailing ability to irk his nerves, her apparent knowledge of the past and future could bring great insight and value to him on quest. He wagged a warning finger at her sweat stained face and squashed any ideas she had for going public with her circumstances, "If you breathe a word of it, people will call you insane and lock you in an asylum."

She bit her lip at having such limited options in this realm and wanted to curl up forever to ignore the real situation. It was unbearable to know she was stuck without a chance at going home and the thought of never seeing her family again was agonizing. She held her head with her hands, digging her fingers into her dark wavy locks that were now sweaty from the day's events, and blurted fearfully to him, "But I have to go home. I don't belong here! This isn't my home, I don't know anything about this age. I. . .I. . .I'm all alone here."

Altaïr knew he was going to regret saying the words the second they left his mouth and offered simply, "You can travel with Malik and I. As much as I hate to say it, you'd be a valuable asset on our team with your knowledge. You're the only one who can find the answers to your questions but maybe, the pieces of Eden can help."

"Is. . .you're going to find the pieces? All of them?" she gaped with both astonishment and skepticism to what he was revealing to her. Then again, he was offering sanctuary rather than letting her beg in the streets so she'd be thankful. However, the unexpected revelation made her wonder why information like this hadn't appeared in the game franchise. Her voice stammered as she pointed out, "B-But in the game-"

"This is reality, not a game, Vivian" he cut in sharply to remind her of that grave fact and she nodded silently because she was now in that current boat as well. His white robed imposing form made that real enough and she picked at a shredded piece of the robe material on her sleeve with her fingertips but the assassin cut off her sudden interest by proposing, "I am offering you a chance to accompany us-"

"Have you noticed I know nothing of your world?" she sighed depressingly because she was useless to anybody at this point and rubbed her sweaty forehead as she wondered why he wanted her to tag along. Was he still mistrustful? Did he truly want to help her? Could she actually help him? Her wrists stung as she fanned her face to lessen the heat and croaked tiredly, "I'm melting already and I don't even know what you bathe with!"

Taking a few calm breaths, she stared at him directly to request earnestly, "If I go, you must be able to tolerate my crazy questions and behavior because most likely, I'll be at the level of a child here. I'm from across the ocean, my lifestyle and beliefs vary greatly in comparison to yours but I will try my hardest to understand how you live. All I ask for is a little understanding and support. . .and an extra water canteen, I'm used to six glasses a day-"

"Six?" he blurted with incredulous surprise to her request because she'd be lucky to get four and she shrugged meekly to put on an innocent ploy. He didn't take the bait because she would get the same treatment as Malik and muttered darkly under his breath, "You better not have the appetite of a cow."

"Hey, that's insulting! My appetite is a least a shrew's or a panda's!" she retorted since her appetite would soar to compare with the animals mentioned if she'd be backpacking across the planet with the assassins. Altaïr blinked in bewilderment to her comment on the most hungry animals and she sighed depressingly into her hands to groan, "See? Even my modern day jokes are useless!"

The assassin aimed a deadpan stare at the woman as their interaction was quickly becoming puzzling and a little irritating. He was never the best speaker in social interactions, only interrogations, and his mind itched to find an exit to be rid of the conversation. He motioned to the door since he had nothing more to speak to her about and turned away from his desk to open the door's latches with hasty fingers as the need to leave her behind overwhelmed him for a moment. A woman like Vivian would cause more trouble than she was worth but his need for aid on the mission would make her incredibly valuable. Altaïr didn't know whether his decision to keep her was a chivalrous act or simply to use her as an asset against the Templars.

Waving a dismissive hand at Vivian, who was now turning the skirt of her robe into shorts by ripping fabric and tying it together around her thighs, he withheld an aggravated groan and ordered simply, "I will send someone to help you draw a bath. . .and new robes. Dinner will be in a few hours so I will allow you to wander the fortress at ease. I'd suggest not interacting with anybody yet so stay away from the village," he mulled over that last word and hastily added, "In fact, stay inside Masyaf, the last thing I need is to discover you in the middle of a mob like last time."

"Anything else?" she asked dully with a frown to being treated like a child or a dirty secret and stood up to stretch in the weirdest positions Altaïr had ever seen. To him, a squat, a jumping jack, and a few yoga stretches were like a Rubik cube as she tried to work out the knots in her muscles. That and the fact she was doing her odd 'dance' in front of him with torn clothes gave away her lack of mannerisms in his era. This new development would be a heavy challenge for Altaïr.

"Just. . .just go" he sighed gloomily to the confusing woman in his midst as she stopped her movements to blink at him with those emerald eyes and Altaïr seriously hoped he wouldn't lose his mind on this new adventure.

"Seriously, do we need to get up before the crack of dawn to start?" Vivian yawned tiredly since she got little hours of sleep on her 'hay bed' as she called it and had woken with sore achy muscles. Even her sister's pet rabbit had a better bed than hers last night.

She'd been jerked awake from the comfort of dreamland by furious banging on the door since Altaïr had taken his time getting up, bathing, and eating but the woman had done nothing. Instead, he'd resorted to handing her a bucket of water with a washrag and a loaf of bread to improvise a quick bath and meal while Vivian practically fainted in horror at what she had to do. He hadn't even given her soap! The master assassin was dressed neatly in crisp white clothing that she had no idea on how he kept clean in this dusty era because whites that white needed bleach for perfect maintenance. Maybe it was an assassin's secret? Malik was dressed as an everyday man to play his part as an innocent bystander on their search for the pieces of Eden. Vivian was certain he'd do fine with his polite mannerisms and acute perceptiveness.

As for Vivian, she'd been lucky enough to find decent clothing and by decent, she meant it was the smallest size in men's clothing which left her robes drooping over the ground due to her shorter stature. Since Altaïr forbid her travels to the village, she'd learned nothing on women's clothing and without money, she was stuck with the appearance of a man and the face of a woman. It's not that she had a problem being a tomboy, it was just that appearing male could insult people and embarrass her further in this century. So as Altaïr prepared the last of his own clothes in his traveling sack by dumping them inside without a care, Vivian fixed hers neatly like a salesperson at Macy's while frowning to the horrible chocolate color that offered no femininity. At least a maroon stripe somewhere in the garb would've helped.

"So how do you afford clothes? In the game, all I saw was the assassin clothes and a bunch of sharp fancy weapons but no money" she asked curiously as she dragged along her heavy pack (she made sure blankets were thick enough for the cold nighttime) that was full of necessities. Both men had to stop and gawk at the sack's size because it was the largest out of the three, completely dwarfing their own packs as she tugged it with all her might. Altaïr was inclined to point out she'd have to carry it throughout their travels but decided to keep that piece of information to himself to annoy her later. Despite her lugging, Vivian's mouth kept running like an engine as she rambled on, "You're almost like Robin Hood. Stealing for yourself and helping the innocent-"

"Vivian!" Altaïr reprimanded because he didn't want to put up with her silly questions this early in the morning and pressed a finger to his lips to order, "Shh!"

She obeyed unwillingly because being left behind to fend for herself was scary enough but dared the question, "Can you at least tell me where we're going?"

"To the land of the old Pharaohs" Malik answered her courteously and she smiled widely at the new adventure. With the trip from Jerusalem taking two days, she suspected that Egypt would be more than a week at best. Frankly, she'd no idea on it but took the optimistic route since international travel had never occurred in her life and decided to have fun this time. True, the fear of survival would remain in her mind but knowing that the two men believed her story somewhat soothed her inner worries. Malik, being extremely perceptive, glanced at her as she tried to tie her pack onto Shadowfax to no avail and asked casually, "Has the fright left you, Vivian?"

She chuckled to the accent on her name which Altaïr ironically lacked because the blasted man actually pronounced it correctly. Malik helped her tie the pack onto the poor mare who kept snorting at the air whenever Vivian dropped it and she explained modestly, "I've never traveled outside my country. Traveling over the ocean on planes makes me uneasy but I always wanted to explore the old East, mainly Europe. In my time, it takes about a day of travel-"

"A day?" both assassins exclaimed to her claim about travel and she jumped back in surprise to their shocked expressions. Even Altaïr appeared taken aback by her statement.

"Well, yes, large aircraft can carry us over the ocean. . .you know, like a closed boat that flies with metal wings and um, a lot of fuel?" she tried to explain with sloppy hand gestures but failed horribly as both men blinked with a deadpan expression. Yeah, her new life here wasn't getting of to a big start and wished she'd been blasted into 1955 like Marty McFly. Rubbing a hand down her forehead, she changed the subject hastily to avoid more questions she'd probably botch, "So, we're going to Egypt?"

That broke the ice and Vivian received multiple answers to her questions on how they would get there. The whole campfire trip from Jerusalem already made her uneasy about being in the open where danger was unavoidable. Well, maybe not the men since they could butcher anything in sight but all she could use was a stick and that wouldn't defeat any kind of enemy except a bug.

Altaïr aimed to keep his promise of keeping her alive (mostly because of her knowledge) and informed her, "Malik and I will teach you what you need to know about building a fire, making a tent, hunting for food-"

"Hunting?" she blurted in shock because killing an innocent animal was not how she wanted her food platter to start as. She couldn't stand seeing an animal die, even if it was for survival purposes in the wilderness and shook her head to refuse sternly, "No, I can't hunt an animal. If you need me to prepare and cook it for you, fine, but absolutely no hunting."

Altaïr snorted to her squeamishness because sensitive women like that grinded his patience like nothing on Earth. Well, that and those annoying peasants that interfered with his kills and apparently, they irritated Vivian's strange 'game life' as well. The woman was peculiar with her outlandish habits but he had to grudgingly accept the idea that she was there to stay due to her sudden unexplainable drop into his world. It was too late to kick her off the trip since she seemed curious to go and having her blab her predicament across the village would embarrass him as a leader. So, he would have to do his honorable duty and keep her on a short leash by ordering her around, "Fine, if it will stop your screeching."

Vivian grit her teeth and stepped forward to knock him upside the head but Malik stopped her immediately by pulling her back by the waist. She thrashed for a few seconds like a rabid wolverine before giving up in the man's grip to mutter, "He better lose the attitude by the time we cross the border."

"Let's head out" their troop leader ordered simply and Vivian sulked as she knew a numbed ass would be the end result at their first pit stop. Malik, being the gentleman, helped Vivian with a step up onto her horse and she thanked him with a chirpy 'thank you' that had Altaïr rolling his eyes underneath his hood. With him, she behaved like a cornered jackal but with Malik, she turned into a loyal puppy; it irked him. Making sure her pack was tied onto Shadowfax safely, Malik patted the horse's hindquarters as he headed off to his own. Seeing both men climb onto their respective horses with fluid ease, Vivian hoped she could update her own skills as the days passed because asking for a constant boost up would certainly irritate them and shame her.

"And here I thought we'd be like the three amigos wandering into the horizon for great adventure and riches like in the stories of old. . .well, near future in this time" she sighed listlessly for trying to cheer up the atmosphere this early in the morning and gently kicked her mare's side to signal for her to follow behind Altaïr's horse.

Malik tried to cheer her up by pointing out, "But we are headed for adventure by seeing distant lands."

Her face wrinkled in displeasure to the type of adventure the crazy Altaïr sought and just knew she'd be seeing him jumping out of five story windows and landing perfectly in haystacks. Hell, he'd probably burn wooden bridges and run from flurries of arrow volleys. She wouldn't be surprised if she got hit in the butt with an arrow or became the unexpected but convenient hostage. Finding the pieces of Eden was a race of time against the deadly Templars and she didn't hesitate to state bluntly, "No, we're heading into suicide because Mr. Grand Pastor-"

"Master!"

Her expression turned cocky to his irritated outburst and she preened airily, "Oh, so you don't like it when people get your name wrong. So tell me, how do you expect to efficiently fight off Templars when all you have is a lost time traveler and a dai? I'm certain Malik can hold his own but two assassins against a group of bucket heads, who are heavily armored I might add, doesn't exactly fill me with confidence on our survival rates."

"The point of being secretive is to take a small group but if you protest so much, then you are welcome to stay here with your tail between your legs" Altaïr admonished coldly with gritted teeth to being questioned on his carefully laid out plan by an inexperienced civilian and didn't turn back to acknowledge her concerns.

"I didn't say I was scared and I already am with traveling under the sun with no sunscreen, no filtrated water, and no toothbrush" she pointed out shrewdly to his acidic words and would have to stock up on verbal ammunition to shoot back during their travel spats. She waved her right hand for the dai's attention and called out, "Malik, if I die, can you promise me something?"

The kind dai turned to her with a sympathetic glance to ease her worries about an early death, "We will take care of you, Vivian. But if I must be honor bound to such, speak your mind."

"When I die, I want Altaïr to be buried alive with me" she piped up perkily with an evil little smirk and the master assassin's cheeks puffed out in fury as he prepared to unleash a barrage of curses at her. How dare she request such a thing?

Malik quickly cut in to defuse the Vivian-Altaïr morning bomb and politely replied to her request, "As you agree, young Vivian."

"You're agreeing with her? I'm your leader, your friend, your brother, your-"

"Braying donkey?" Vivian joked wittily to his mad ranting that had the other man glowering at her from his horse but she purposely ignored his glares of death. With Malik around, he was harmless. She patted her mare's side before pointing her finger into the air to declare ecstatically, "Onward, my steed!"

"You do know horses can't listen to vocal orders like that?" Altaïr snorted sardonically to knock her down a few from her smug pedestal. Her personality kept clashing with his dangerously and the longer he spent time around her, the faster he wanted to break her neck.

Vivian turned the tables when she shot him a Cheshire grin and drawled smugly, "I was talking to you."

A/N: Obviously, the title is in link to the show 'Adventure Time' and if anyone watches it, there were two scenes (Finn's flute and that ghost that played 'drop ball') that I used in this chapter because Vivian's just that crazy. I've been very sick the last month but luckily, this ten page chapter turned into fifteen with the extra editing so now you know the destination of our heroes. . .and the lost Vivian. Next chapter has them traveling into Egypt, near the Nile riverbank, and we see Altaïr wrestling a crocodile for your enjoyment. Thank you for all the story alerts and last chapter reviews:

NaruVamp: Yeah, Vivian will keep annoying Altaïr until the two are forced to work together while Malik just plays big brother (or keeper) to the two.

IpiRayan: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you like Vivian. I try very hard not to make her Mary Sue-ish in any way.

Bijou le Anima: This story's pretty humor filled like most of my other stories but it'll have the Altaïr/Vivian fluff in later chapters when they're not killing each other.

Hollownature: Glad you like the story!

Neuron Deficiency: I'm pleased that the readers love Vivian and unlike some fanfics where the futuristic OC takes on the assassin/jedi path, Vivian will be looking to how to make a fire to survive the night. Of course, Altaïr and Malik will be teaching her things as they travel so she'll be learning survival tactics.

xoxo Lucifer's Daughter: Vivian will keep getting under his skin because she second guesses him at every turn and he loves being in charge. The romance portion between the two won't be the average story with Altaïr saying 'I love you, let's live happily ever after in my time' because no, Vivian does have her own life to return to and there's the fact that Maria's still around. Love is a bumpy road and it's never easy because conflicts arise and compromises must be made. I'll leave the plot twists undercover for now. Thanks for the review!

Tainted Tuesday: Vivian's a feisty and mouthy little thing, ain't she? It's funny how she started off badmouthing Ezio against her sister and now that she met Altaïr, she actually wants to meet Ezio instead. Ha.