Title: Child's Play
Fandoms: Assassin's Creed 2, Doctor Who: New series 11th Doctor
Pairings: Shaun/Desmond, Ezio/Leonardo, slash warning!
Spoiler Warnings for AC2 and all of Matt Smith's first season as the Doctor
eventually will get up to NC17 but R for now
I own neither AC2 or DW and make no money from this.
If folks like this, please let me know. I've got a fair bit of the story poking around in my head.
Desmond tried to blink away the vertigo that always accompanied a desynchronization. It was bad enough he was right on the edge of losing his breakfast since the Animus had been kicking him out of memories all morning.
“Sorry, Desmond,” Rebecca said, looking almost ashamed at his green face. She returned her focus to her monitor and clattered away at a few select buttons. “Not sure why this keeps happening.”
“I know!” Shaun interjected ever so helpfully, gently cooling his tea with a puff of air. “Maybe it would work if Desmond weren’t so ham fisted at his job!”
An eye roll was all the bastard was going to get as Desmond eased his head back against the headrest, willing his stomach to cut him some slack.
“It’s not his fault!” the woman shot back, already on the defensive. “Superficially the memory doesn’t look corrupted but it keeps kicking him out.” Her long fingers fiddled with her headset, too full of nervous energy. “It’s like something doesn’t want him there.”
Whatever animosity the Englishman held for the other man, it was obvious he couldn’t resist a riddle. With a dismissive little ‘hmph’ Shaun pored over the woman’s screen, not completely able to mask the full extent of his curiosity. “What were you trying to access?”
“All signs pointed to something big happening when Ezio returns to Venice after opening the Vault,” Rebecca explained, pointing out a few data points on her screen. “We skipped ahead to where it looks nice and juicy but it keeps throwing us back out. I’ve tried a couple of different entry points and it’s all been no-go.”
The thread of DNA whirled on her monitor as Shaun tabbed through the memories at blazing speed. It didn’t seem possible that he could process information that quickly.
“There!” The historian jabbed his finger at one particular polygon floating placidly on screen. “Try there!”
Rebecca shot him a dubious look. “Some doctor’s visit? We have about a billion of those. What’s so special about-“
“Just do it, all right?” Shaun snapped, pointedly shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Rebecca got to tapping away at her keyboard right away.
“You really think this is going to work?” asked Desmond with a hint of desperation. “”Cause if it doesn’t I’m going to need a barf bag.”
A rare flash of self-doubt crossed Shaun’s face. “It’ll work. It feels… right.”
Desmond gave a little nod and closed his eyes, trying to prepare for the disconcerting feel of the Animus sucking at your soul. There was a clatter on the floor to his right and his eyes shot open again. The only things different were the waste basket that had suddenly appeared within reach of his chair and the historian’s back as he fled to his station.
Rebecca looked up from her station, oblivious to anything but the task at hand. “Ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
The world went white.
Ezio looked out over the rooftops of Venice. He realized that it may have felt like years since he had last done so, it had only been a matter of months. The events in Roma had changed everything, warped everything and he had returned to Venice to fulfill his sole desire for a taste of the familiar.
The familiar being one person who bore the name ‘Leonardo’.
“Da Vinci! One of the most brilliant minds this world has known and will ever know!”
It took a moment for Ezio to realize this bold proclamation had been spoken by another and had not come from within his own thoughts. The words consumed his attention instantly. It was exceedingly rare that he heard someone speak of anyone he knew in such glowing terms, much less someone so dear to him. Glancing cautiously over the edge, Ezio scanned the crowds filling the markets below. The swarm of bodies made it difficult to distinguish who had been speaking but thankfully the one doing the proclaiming seemed thoroughly enamored by the sound of his own voice.
“It’s 1499. He hasn’t painted the Mona Lisa yet, but The Last Supper is already considered a masterpiece covering the back wall of a monastery in Milan.” You could hear the excitement in the mystery man’s voice. “Just imagine. Leonardo da Vinci personally decorating your living room! I’m pretty sure we’ve already met so we’ll just pop round for a nice cuppa, all right?”
Ezio mused on this. What a strange turn of phrase. The voice spoke of the future as if it were history. He spotted them. How could he not? The bizarrely dressed man with an unusual cravat, long limbed and lanky accompanied by a young girl with a shock of red hair. He followed them.
“Doooctor,” came a girl’s voice, her Italian sounding unusually accented to his ears. “The art history tour is wonderful and all, and believe me I loved meeting Vincent, but I thought it would be nice to do something a little more, y’know, alien planet-y type thing.”
“Ah ha! Well, yes!” The man’s response seemed suddenly nervous. “I wanted to- ehm- see if Venice –hah- reminded you of …. anything? Or anyone? In particular, I mean.”
The girl frowned and stared off into the distance. “Why would it remind me of anything? I’ve never been to Venice. ”
“Silly me, of course you haven’t.” In an instant the man went from being completely discomfited to full of enthusiasm. “Look at the architecture! Isn’t it amazing! It’s astonishing how marvelously it holds up until you lot start mucking with the aquifer in your own century.”
Whoever this pair was, they surely were completely mad.
“You should not be up here, stronzo!”
Ezio sighed at the all too familiar words of Venezia’s archers. He had no taste for bloodshed this morning so he chose to leap, landing in a pile of straw. It always struck him as odd how much straw and hay there was scattered about the city with so little livestock within its walls. Stepping out of the pile, he moved swiftly but he had already lost the couple. He knew they were heading for Leonardo’s workshop but curiosity tickled at the base of his spine. It was a simple matter to reach with his mind and let the world go dark.
Silhouettes moved around him and he would see the occasional flash of white that would indicate a passing thief or courtesan or the harsh red of a guard. He looked for the telltale flash of gold that would reveal his target and was instead met with a blue light; so intense it was nearly white, almost painful it was so incandescent. Shielding his eyes, he let the eagle vision slip away to reveal the source of it had been the oddly dressed man.
Cazzo! This lunatic was supposed to be an ally?