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Amir tossed another nutshell at Desmond's head. The annoyance tactic worked, rousing Altair's descendant.

"Eat something." The bartender sighed and rubbed his eyes as he went to raid Leonardo's pantry, retrieving some bread and olive oil. He dipped the bread and ate it listlessly, watching Amir cracking hazelnut shells and popping the nuts in his mouth, leaving the shells to be picked up at a later point in time.

Lex followed the smell on his way back from relieving himself and stole a chunk of oil-soaked bread, trying to savor the taste even as he stuffed it in his mouth and had it down his gullet in a little more than two bites.

"Still not awake, is he?" Desmond's voice came from around a strip of prosciutto. Lex cut off a piece and shook his head. The three Assassins looked at one another and came to the consensus that Jameel wasn't about to wake up anytime soon. Red Owl took a beating that any of us could've suffered in his place, Amir thought. Me, Brother, Desmond... Heh. Jameel would've loved that, wouldn't he? The Eternal Novice smiled to himself at the thought of Jameel stuffing a paint stained cloth in Desmond's mouth to gag him.

"We'll let him sleep," he said after finishing off another nut and passing Lex one when his brother held out his hand. "We've got armor to finish."

It took several days to make adjustments and finish the armor for themselves. Jameel's set was doubly difficult. It took all three of them to measure him, his limp limbs having to be held out from himself more than once. They had to be careful as well and not handle him too roughly, lest the wounds be agitated. None of them really wanted to face a cranky, sore Jameel.

As day drew to dusk once more, Lex pulled on his jack-of-plates vest and tested its fit. It was good, and didn't look half bad, he decided, taking a quick glance in the mirror Leonardo had to one side of the room. He turned to Desmond as the man finished putting on their secret weapon, the hidden pistol. Amir lifted a brow and smirked widely.

"You two are going to enjoy this, aren't you?" was all Lex asked as he braced himself as firmly as he could.

"No, just me," said the barkeep before putting a bullet squarely into his fellow Assassin's chest. The smaller man was catapulted off his feet and slid a ways across the floor to a stop against the far wall.

When the Sparrow hadn't moved for a few moments, Amir sat up, fear roiling in his gut. "You killed him..." Taking a breath, he called, "Brother?"

"Ow," was his answer as Lex lifted up a hand and pulled the bullet from one of the plates, looking at the flattened ball of metal. Dropping his hand down, he lifted it up again in a thumbs up before letting it flop back at his side.

The bed creaking in the silence after the gunshot alerted the three men to the movement from Jameel's room. Pulling Lex to his feet, they moved to crowd around in his room. The Red Owl was awake.

Jameel looked at the three stunned faces, then down at himself. He felt horrible and now he could see just why. His hands felt ravaged and ripped and his chest torn in half. Taking as deep a breath as his healing chest allowed, he asked, "Where am I now?"

"Leonardo's workshop," came from Amir, followed by a small cheep.

"Need anything by way of pain killers or food?" asked Desmond. Jameel didn't answer. My blade's probably destroyed by now... He tiredly stared at the ceiling until two of the Assassins had filed out of the room, leaving the Sparrow standing at his bedside. After a few minutes' silence, he turned to leave.

"Sparrow." Lex stopped, looking back over his shoulder at Jameel. The Assassin gave him a wry semblance of a smile. "Get some rest. You look how I feel."



October, 1321

Durante degli Alighieri. Writer of The Divine Comedy. What to make of the man who plunged his enemies into Hell, both literal and figurative? An Assassin as skilled with the sword as the pen to make his kills and very good to debate with. His skills at chess could have used some work, though.

I am in Firenze once more, keeping an eye on his Novice, one Domenico Auditore. What else can I do but watch and wait, protecting from the shadows? Guardian I am called and Guardian I am. I don't have my titles for nothing. I feel that this man, this descendant of Altair's, will come to greatness, in this time or sometime beyond him. Perhaps it will be one of his descendants. Who yet knows? Perhaps Amir, but not I.

Little Amir is still alive. If there is an afterlife, inshallah, his parents are pleased with what he's become. He's taken himself a father and mentor in one polymath Leonardo da Vinci. More than likely he'll take a few more. I'm only surprised he hasn't started to call me abu. Although, he does ask after his brother.

He blinked at the large black spot where the ink had dripped before continuing on.

Lex. Amir acts as if he'll just tumble from the sky one day. And what if he does? Am I going mad for even thinking on this silly notion? Am I mad already? If I am, I can consider it. If he does fall out of the sky, appearing as he did in Masyaf so long ago, what will I do? Ravenwatch hounds me as ever, only with new employers to feed their coffers. I'll go to Ephesus, see if there are any of those crystals yet remaining there. Perhaps I'll keep a few in supply in case he ever needs to get home. In any case, they would be an interesting thing to study to pass my time... To pass my time? Ha! What the hell am I saying?

The Master Assassin looked up from reaching over the old entries in his journal as a sound reached his ears. Frowning, he thought a moment. Desmond? No. Amir? No. Both of them were performing a quick patrol. Lex? An obvious no. The Sparrow, from what he could see, was dead to the world, slumped in a chair he'd tipped back against the wall of the workshop's main room.

So who would be coming in at this hour?

Outside, Iron Elephant and Steel Rhino had met like usual. They were discussing something again, but the crowds were too thick and noisy to eavesdrop properly. This being so, the metal-clad men had parted ways, their lackeys following as they began to patrol again, and the cloaked woman had knocked on Leonardo's door.

The woman flinched as a hand reached to where the red remnants of the Lion's metal gauntlets were left on her skin. She looked at the Spaniard and shook her head, giving him a smile. Nico shook his head and kissed her cheek before holding up a finger. Pressing his shoulder to the door, he lifted hard on the latch, allowing the door to open silently.

The woman frowned as they entered, not finding the artist or his little assistant but the strange young man she'd encountered the night before. The two intruders all but flung each other apart as a throwing knife embedded itself in the wood between their heads, just missing flying through the window.

Jameel snarled at them from where he leaned against the doorway to his room, his bound hands protesting fiercely from the motion he'd forced them to complete. The Spaniard already had a rapier drawn and had taken a fencer's stance. The two men shifted their positions, Nico moving to stand in front of the woman and Jameel to crouch in front of Lex, giving the intruders another hard stare.

"Wer bist du?" demanded the woman behind Nico. "Und wo ist Leonardo?"

"Ich koennte dich daselbe fragen," the tall, dark man said lowly, startling the pair with his lightly accented German. "Wer bist du, Frau, und was hast du letze woche mit dem Metall Loewen zu tun gehabt?"

"Espera, espera, espera, espera!" interjected the Spaniard, lowering his sword, as both of them opened their mouths in the same space of time. He looked at the woman. "María, qué es el"--he waved his hand and let out a breath through his teeth--"el búho rojo aquí está hablando?"

"Oh, wer von uns beiden stolziert draussen umher und versucht dem Feind Tinkturen anzudrehen?" asked the woman.

"Quién habla de ser atrapado? Qué te pasa, salir por la noche, cuando las patrullas ese bastardo?"

"De dónde me conoces?" Jameel interrupted suddenly. The Spaniard paled and could only whisper, "Ay, cajado..." Jameel rose to his full height and repeated, taking a step or two closer toward them, "De dónde me conoces, el español?"

From apparently nowhere, though Jameel suspected her dress' skirts, the woman produced an iron frying pan and brandished it much as the Spaniard had his sword, stating firmly, "Halte dich von meinem Ehemann fern!"

"María!" exclaimed Nico.

"Geh beiseite!" the Red Owl snapped.

"Ahhlass!" Three heads snapped round to look at the frazzled young man standing there glaring at them. He looked at Nico. "Cállate, tonto! Halt's maul, Frau! Ahhlass, Jameel!"

Maria's eyes widened at the phrase. "Was faellt dir ein so mit mir zu reden, dummer Junge?"

Lex gripped at his eyes and groaned, "Liebe Himmel noch mal, Frau, Ich hatte nur drei Stunden Schlaf!" He looked at them again, this time pleadingly. "For God's sake, all of you, please, shut the ******** up." The woman gave him an apologetic look as Lex managed to teeter and totter his way to the bed Jameel had vacated to protect him, toppling into the still warm covers once there.

The two men looked at one another, Jameel wondering at the Spaniard being very nearly Lex's height, if not a touch smaller.

"So," said the young man, dropping back into Italian, "my name is Nico Valez, and this is my wife, Maria. Maria, this is the man Amir told us about."

"Amir told you of me? I see who you were protecting now," Jameel muttered sourly.

"Oh, don't tan his hide. It's already tanned enough." The Spaniard rolled his eyes. "Last I saw he was trying to drag some buffoon away from the courtesans down at San Marco's piazza."

"That man did seem very determined," Maria admitted. Jameel sighed and took a seat at the table, motion for the others to do the same so they could speak cordially of just why they were there. In any case, as cordially as possible after such an introduction.



"A courtesan. Nice touch." Amir's voice drifted in from the windows. "Our ranks are thin enough with those Templars roaming the streets." He pushed open the door and shut it behind them, still focused on Desmond. "I'm sure after your little tantrum you were going to propose she join us in getting rid of them, right? You didn't know about Theodora, though." Desmond turned, one side of his face emblazoned with a red hand print, and looked at the people sitting at the table.

One was the Spaniard, Nico, sitting half-sprawled in the chair. Opposite him was a tall woman, almost as tall as himself. Her long, light brown hair hung down in ringlets to her shoulders, green eyes looking at him from a lightly tanned face, brows raised, though not enough to wrinkle her forehead.

Upon seeing the couple, Amir let out a squealing "Maria!" and flung himself onto the woman's lap, hugging her around the neck, giving excited little cheeps. "Maria, did you bring me pancakes?" A chirp followed the question.

"No, little one, we didn't," said the woman, "but we brought something else." Desmond looked as she took up a basket carefully from beside her seat and uncovered it. The barkeep stared. Baby in a basket? The little girl inside the basket yawned, opening her eyes and looking at Amir. She smiled a toothless baby's smile, at which Amir trilled and babbled in Italian so rapid Desmond had trouble keeping up with it, pressing his nose against the baby's.

"Nadya!" Amir finally said, wiggling on Maria's lap. The Eagle moved further into the room, leaving the others to speak with one another as he peered inside the bedroom. Lex lay on the bed, hair rumpled from sleep, snoring softly. Jameel sat with a book in his lap; it took a moment for Desmond to realize the script was the familiar scrawl of Arabic.

As he was about to greet the men, the door was flung open. Groaning in annoyance, Desmond turned to find someone he least expected.

Serenity panted, looking up at the little family clustered in the main room and giving them a sneer before the Eagle appeared in her line of sight. She then began speaking a string of Italian so quickly the man wasn't sure if even the hyperactive Coal Tit understood her, her braided hair swinging back and forth as she began to pace the floor right to left to right again.

"What?" came out of his mouth as he was finally able to get a word in edgewise between her rantings, bolting the door. Lex, who'd looked into the room, sighed and looked back at Jameel again, who'd tucked his book into a small pouch at his waist. The Red Owl gave him a tired look in return, seeing the Sparrow looked none the better as they said in unison, "Serenity's back."

Amir quickly informed her of the situation. Serenity burst into laughter, calming down enough to say, "Templars are on the move and closing in." She was directing it to Amir, but faced Desmond with a smirk. For what reason, the Eagle couldn't say. "The closest friend of ours is Mr. Elephant."

The two Assassins went into the workroom and strapped on their armor. As Desmond slipped his new weapons on, Amir as well, the Coal Tit brought the armor for Jameel and Lex. When he returned to the main room, Desmond found Serenity staring at the couple as they conversed. Maria gave the other woman the Evil Eye several times as Nico bent down and placed a kiss on Nadya's forehead, then kissed his wife gently on the lips.

"Geh nach Hause mit Nadya, meine Herzallerliebstes," he whispered, folding his arms around the taller woman. "Ich wille kommen auch." He smiled, touching her cheek and patting his belt where his sword hung. "Es una promesa." Maria nodded and lifted up the basket gently, hurrying out the door.

"Thanks for leading them straight to us, by the way," sighed the barkeep. Serenity stopped laughing and glared at him.

"I didn't lead them here. I just happened to be in the same place they were patrolling. You do know they patrol the city, yes? One of them walked into me and the rest chased me halfway across the city. I was lucky they were distracted by something, or else I'd have to use our favorite place to escape." Desmond made a face at the subtle hint toward the canals.

In the bedroom, Lex finished helping Jameel slide on the new armor, fastening the vest shut.

"It looks good on you."

"On you as well, little bird."

"Hey, don't worry, we're not gonna be buried in them." Jameel smirked and shook his head. Wincing, he pressed one of his plastered hands to his face, shutting his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Jameel tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Do you have any painkillers?" Lex nodded and left the room, returning with a small bag of white powder and a cup of hot water with a weak tea mixed in.

"Swallow it down quickly and it won't taste as much like s**t." Jameel downed the powder and the tea in several gulps. Pulling the cup away, he made a face and set it on the bed.

"That was awful. Why does it taste like vinegar?"

"So the aspirin doesn't upset your stomach as much." Jameel looked up as he heard a voice from outside barking orders, a few dozen metal-clad feet moving outside. He glanced at Lex, who moved to the front of the workshop.

"All right," Desmond was saying to Serenity, looking out the window from the corner of his eye. "Are you gonna stay and help us, or are you gonna help with Jameel?"

"So long as I get blood I don't care where I am," Serenity replied, running a whetstone over her blade. Cleaning the blade on her tunic, she flicked it in and out before sheathing it once more. Amir looked at his brother questioningly. Lex nodded slightly. The boy went back to the room Jameel was in.

"Can you run?" Lex heard Amir ask.

"I can walk, I can run, but I cannot grab anything."

Tearing himself away from the conversation in the back, he looked at Desmond.

"What's the plan, boss?"

"Kill as many as you can." Desmond slipped on his mask. "And watch out for those bombs." The two Assassins looked at Nico as the Spaniard tied a rag over his mouth. Lex tied the mask snugly over his own mouth as Nico nodded toward them and slipped into the workroom.

The time travelers jerked their heads around as Serenity's lips moved into a crazy sort of smile as she said, "With pleasure." Then she was rushing to the door. Desmond jerked his fingers toward the ceiling quickly. Lex hurried after Nico, watching as the young man dropped down to the alley below. He in turn scrabbled onto the roof. The man turned his gaze back to the woman, who had charged out the door.

His blood ran cold. It had gone quiet outside. Dead quiet.

"No, stop!" He raced toward the door, trying to catch the woman heading into the street. "Idiot! Stop!"

Bomb arrows flew! Things exploded. Wooden carts and crates abandoned by the people who'd carried and pulled them were lit on fire. Glass shards flew! Screams were heard. They were waiting for them to come out!

The Sparrow almost fell off the sill, grasping at the almost purchaseless tiles and finally digging his nails between them to keep himself upright as he heard Desmond shout. A muffled "s**t!" left his mouth as he ducked a flying piece of debris. What the hell's gone wrong now?

One of the archers tossed down a drug bomb right by the door; Desmond slammed the door and threw himself to one side, stuffing the nearest bunch of rags under the bottom crack of the jamb and ran upstairs. He stepped onto the sill and climbed up onto the roof. The Eagle glanced at the Sparrow. The other time traveler had ducked behind the slope of the roof, but evidently not before some shrapnel had had a chance to find him--glass, splinters, and bits of tile speckled his arms and shoulders.

"You good?"

"What?"

"I said"--Desmond watched the younger man squint as if trying to read his lips--"are you good?"

"Fine! Where's Serenity?" The man pointed to the street below; the two peered over the roof.

Inside the workshop, Amir put one of the masks on Jameel and helped him out of a side entrance and into the streets behind the workshop. Glancing around, he hurried on with him leaning on his shoulder. He hoped the others got down before anymore weapons had the chance to do damage to the structure. Babbo will be furious if his works are destroyed! They'd better get out of there before they ravage his workshop any further, or I'll come back and drag them out of there!

Atop the roof, the two younger Assassins were pinned down. Desmond pulled a large piece of glass out of his arm as they ducked again. A bit of tile flew up and cut a line through the Journeyman's scalp. He swore violently, dashing the blood off his cheek with his sleeve, before saying, "We have to get that idiot girl and get the hell out of here, even if she is dead."

"Tell me something I don't know, a*****e!" Desmond yelled back of the succeeding explosion on the roof beside theirs. The time travelers then vaulted over their shelter and down onto the street below. Desmond crossed the distance between himself and the downed female in two strides and doubled back just as quickly as the Sparrow gave cover fire. A satisfying squawk of a yell was heard; one of the archers toppled from his position. The small Assassin hurried over and scooped up his cache of bombs, dodging what splintering glass arrows he could. The two hurried off again, using the streets and the roofs, the woman slung over Desmond's shoulder.

The last of the glass arrows broke as the archers stopped firing, seeing one of their own brought low. The fired a few bomb arrows after the time travelers, but only as a cautious cover to their retreat as the Beaks in Black vanished over the rooftops.



Jameel was forced to stop short as Amir dug his heels in and brought them to a halt in an alley. Steel Rhino happened to be in their way, having managed to fit himself into the alley. They whirled around. Behind them was Iron Elephant, planting his shield in front of him, adding to the blockade his bulk provided with the nasty nest of spikes.

"Where do you two think you're going?" This from the Rhino as he slammed his halberd against the ground in an intimidation display. The Coal Tit drew himself to his full height, puffing out his cheeks and chest, challenging the display.

"Through you," he retorted, hidden blade springing from its sheath. The Templar cackled at the little retaliatory show, jerking his head up as two shadows appeared from over his head like great birds. Desmond and Lex fell toward him, their own wristblades at the ready. The Rhino charged toward the grounded Assassins.

Jameel flattened himself against the wall, barely having enough room to turn his head so as not to be skewered on the halberd or cut by the horns. After sliding to a stop, nearly hitting his brother, the Templar turned and charged the other direction. Amir hopped over him easily as Desmond and Lex too pressed themselves to the walls, breathing heavily as the troops came to reinforce the two men they were trapped between in what felt to the time travelers like some twisted game of Pong.

"Damn it!" Desmond shouted as he stabbed one of the guards in the eye and moved away from the oncoming halberd with a quick hop. Amir shoved the weapon aside with his blade as it was swung at him in the Rhino's turning, rolling to the right of one of the guard's weapons. Leaping forward, he stabbed the metal blade deep into his throat and ripped it free again.

Lex ducked a swing from one of the guards and kicked him back, tossing one of his throwing knives into the man's visor. He toppled to the ground, adding to the mass of bodies taking up the precious space within the alley.

The Assassins jumped as several of the guards were tossed backward, their weapons scattering across the cobbles.

"Victoria de los Asesinos!" Several of the guards peeled away to chase the Spaniard and were promptly knocked back by another set of grenades, screams heard even down the street.

"Hey, Des!" Desmond caught the bomb as Lex tossed it to him. The Sparrow then threw one of the bombs at the Elephant as Desmond turned and planted his own into the Rhino's face as the man turned for another charge. As the smoke began to spew from the bombs, the Ravenwatch archers appeared again, throwing poisoned darts down upon the Assassins.

Cowards! Letting poison do the work for them! Jameel's thoughts were cut off as Amir grabbed him by the belt and jumped onto the roof with him.

"Thank you," he panted. "Now run!" Desmond jumped up, kicking off the wall and snagging the edge, scrambling up after them. The Sparrow ducked another round of darts as he took a running jump and grabbed the others' hands, hauled up by the others.

Jameel ran across the rooftops, jumping as an arrow set off an explosion near him. "Go, go, go!" he called to Amir. He all but kicked Desmond along as he shouted, "Run like hell!" The man was staggering. He dropped back next to Lex, who was keeping an eye on their rear as they went.

"How far back are they?" he asked, picking up his pace and landing on another roof. Jameel came up beside him again a second later.

"They're gaining!"

The Assassins pressed on. The arrows clattering at their heels soon became not the serrated, pronged heads of the Watch but the shoddy arrows of the Venetian rooftop guardsmen. Circling around, they headed back to the hide out, taking the water entrance this time.

Desmond limped between Lex and Amir as they followed Jameel into the main part of the Lair. The bartender panted and shook; he dropped Serenity unceremoniously on the floor as soon as they reached solid flooring and took the seat Amir offered him.

"Why did they retreat?" the man wondered as Amir inspected the wound on his leg. The dart stuck in sideways, but had only pierced the upper layer of skin. Pulling it out caused a bigger fuss from Desmond than running with it in his leg had, his wails earning him a "Novice" from the Eternal Novice as he put a small bandage on his thigh.

The Sparrow trudged up through the canal water and took a seat against the wall. Untying his boots, he pulled off his wet socks and left them to dry with the boots, slipping the jack of plates vest from around his shoudlers and wiping the sweat from his face with his tunic.

"That sucked."

"Biggest understatement of the day."

Jameel took a seat beside him on the pallet that was their bed in the Lair, catching his breath.

"I think they saw your new weapon." Lex looked at him, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back against the wall with a murmured oath of some sort. The Master Assassin nudged him with a knee, waiting until the Sparrow had opened his eyes partway to continue. "I need to ask you, Lex. Where did your guns go when we were in their castle?"

Lex shut his eyes again as a bead of sweat rolled into one and made it water, sighing, "I threw 'em down a waterfall. They disappeared in the pool. They couldn't have found them."

"And what if they did? What then?" Desmond hissed as Amir slathered some of the last of their disinfectant paste on a burn.

"Knowing their prowess with weapons," Jameel answered, "they'd turn it into something much more dangerous than their current weaposn in no time at all." He made to pass a hand over his eyes and glared at the plaster cast preventing him from doing so. "Getting killed by something we cannot see or know about ourselves is every Assassin's nightmare."

"Great job, Lex." Desmond walked past toward the room with the beds, making to smack him upside it but refraining for the wound on his head. "Have you noticed your arms look like s**t?"

"Yeah." Lex glanced at where his arms lay almost uselessly in his lap. "I'll get to them in a minute."

Amir inspected a cut on his shoulder absently as he looked at Jameel. "How are your hands? Have the casts been damaged?"

"The casts have not been damaged. I took extra care when traveling on the roof." He gently lowered his hands into his lap, making sure they weren't in an uncomfortable position. Jameel eyeballed Amir's wound. "I hope whatever struck you wasn't poisoned."

"As do I." The boy bound his wound with a bandage as the younger of the time travelers began plucking debris from the battle out of his arms and dropping the pieces in a little bloodied pile. "I'll wake up Desmond and relieve you two in a few hours." He stood and went to the back room.

Jameel did not respond. Instead, he sat against the wall, not comfortable but not irritated, studying his own wounds. They were mostly scrapes from the debris of battle, a jagged cut here or there but nothing serious as the others had had. He looked down as he felt a head against his arm, shifting it enough to allow Lex to pillow his head on his side. Leaning his head back, he began to think himself to sleep, much as he had many times before.

We made it out alive. That's the important thing. There are too many Templars and so few Assassins...

Five minutes later, or what felt like that amount of time, someone, something, some cosmic force that could be called Fate, God, or Karma decided at that moment to dislike the two men. Serenity awoke.

"Ugh!" The woman stood and glowered at the two, feeling all the cuts and bruises on her body and the pain of the blow to the head she'd received. Then she saw where she was. "What the hell? Why are you bloody, what happened to your hands, and why are we back here? What happened to the others? What about attacking the Templars?" She folded her arms.

The Red Owl groaned his displeasure. Of all the--Why?! Why did she have to wake up now?! The look on his face changed from relatively peaceful to a scowl.

"Plan nearly failed," he informed her, his voice rising with each word he spoke. "If it had failed, we would all be dead or captured! Pick which one you prefer!" He didn't even bother to move his head from where it rested, knowing Lex had sat up from the lack of weight on his side. "Lex, pick out the rest of your wounds. We don't want them getting infected." The Sparrow nodded blearily and turned his arm to pick out a chip of cobblestone.

Serenity frowned and folded her arms, returning Jameel's scowl openly. She watched the runty Assassin taking a few pieces of tile from his arms and decided he was the easier of the two to badger.

"It's a wonder you're not dead," she commented dryly with the added bonus of a snort. "Or still around as an Assassin." The Venetian woman moved over to the boy. What good is this little lap dog anyway? She prodded his head. A pained expression took hold of his face for a moment, a little blood leaking out from the crust that had cracked beneath her touch, a gasp escaping his lips.

"That's enough, woman! You are fortunate aren't in working condition right now."

"Or what, Jameel? He's the most wounded out of any of us, even myself, from that attack--"

"We have just survived an attack that would have killed an entire group of well-trained Assassins! In one trap!" She made to open her mouth again to protest, but was cut off by a look from him that served in place of the hand he wasn't able to wave. "We're already wounded and battered enough as is. Don't make matters worse."

Serenity frowned and marched toward the back room.

"Well, boys, how are things going?"

"Shut up, you stupid broad!" Desmond screamed, but his voice was drowned out by a hail of bullets that zipped past the woman's head and sank into the wall of the Lair. Amir lowered his arm with the hidden gun and glared at the female from beneath his peaked hook.

"Get. Out." She obeyed, moving back down the hall.

Lex shook the ringing from his ears and touched the reopened cut on his head. "Ow." He sighed and gave it a quick rub down with some of the disinfectant, binding it off and resting his head back down onto the Red Owl. He glared at Serenity as the woman went to sleep in one of the chairs at the table's far side.

"Sharmoota," he hissed. There was no need to taunt Lex for his wounds, much less to prod at them as if they were some spectacle to be goggled at and poked. If his hands hadn't been wrapped up, he would have throttled the woman then and there. Genius devices. Better than amputation. Maybe Amir will do that for me. Or Desmond. Or both. That would make my day.

Settling himself comfortably as he could, he rested his head against Lex's and drifted back to sleep.

Above, the day continued like nothing had happened. Quick repairs were started and nearly done for the damage caused by some of the bomb arrows. Guards were being replaced by their comrades, their shifts at an end. Patrols resumed their rounds. The citizens proceeded with their normal lives, or as normal as they would ever be. Nico Valez wondered about this as he was chased about the kitchen by his wife, little Nadya giggling from her basket at her parents' antics as the frying-pan-wielding unholy terror that was the irate-with-worry Maria Valez finally caught up to her husband.