Hello, everyone! This is the second fic in the Assassin's Creed in Group Therapy series, written by myself and tempest-serenity.

Very fluffy break from the fics I'm supposed to be updating

The first of this series can be found at

http:/ www .fanfiction. net /s/6095558/1/Assassins_Creed_in_Group_Therapy

(after removing the spaces...)

Enjoy!

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The therapist doesn't like to think that some people are beyond help. He likes to think that everyone can be happy and normal and peaceful, and that everything can be solved through sharing feelings and talking through problems.

Now, however, he is seriously starting to reconsider his life's belief.

"Leonardo doesn't love me anymore!"

"Now, Ezio," the therapist tries to soothe, "you said that last week."

"He set me on fire!" Ezio cries, and Leonardo looks absurdly injured.

"You're the one that was supposed to be steering the flying machine."
"If he really loved you, he wouldn't set you on fire," Rosa says earnestly, "that's why you should leave him for me."

"You're a girl," Ezio says, sounding incredibly disgusted, and Rosa scowls.

"There is nothing wrong with that!"

"Yeah there is. You're all… girly."

"I believe what Ezio is trying to say," Leonardo says calmly, and for a moment, the therapist can breathe a sigh of relief, "is that you're wholly and absolutely not what he wants, and you can never change that, so you are doomed to a life of solitude and self-hatred."

"Uh-" the therapist stammers, staring at Leonardo, who delivered his explanation with the utmost calm and sincerity, "I'm not sure that's-"

"What if I told you he slept with me?" Rosa shrieks, and Leonardo goes pale. Interestingly, Ezio looks as shocked as him.

"He did?" Leonardo whimpers.

"I did?" Ezio says, "what the hell was I thinking? Was I drunk? Or knocked out? Was I unconscious?" He stares at the floor, deep in thought, unaware that Rosa's expression is going from unhappy to angry, "maybe I was drugged. That might have been it. Or, wait, maybe I was asleep? And drugged? After getting drunk? Maybe it was so dark, and I was so drunk, that I walked into the wrong house? Maybe it was a threat! Did you threaten me?" He suddenly glares at Rosa, who is speechless, and suddenly, Ezio jumps to his feet. "Did you get me drunk at knifepoint and then drug me, and then knock me unconscious and drug me again, and then erase my memory of it after sleeping with me? No- YOU GOT ME POSSESSED BY A PROSTITUTE'S GHOST, DIDN'T YOU?"

The entire room stares at Ezio in dead silence.

"Ezio," the therapist says carefully, "please sit down and let Rosa explain."

"I was being hypothetical," Rosa says, "you didn't do anything, I was just saying, you know, hypothetically."

"Oh. Well. Then."

"Possessed by a ghost?" Leonardo asks, turning to Ezio, "of a prostitute?"

"It could happen," Ezio says sulkily.

"Rosa," The therapist says, "why do you want Ezio so much?"

"Because he's so incredible!"

"You know," Leonarod says, "that's my favourite thing about him, I think."

"GO TO HELL!" Rosa roars, while the therapist wonders how other people don't realize that Leonardo is sort of secretly malicious and more than a little sadistic. Probably learned it from Ezio.

"Ezio, why don't you want Rosa?"

"Didn't we just go over this?"

"You said it was because she got you possessed by a, uh, prostitute's ghost. I was hoping you'd have a more concrete answer."

"She's a girl."
"You said that already too."
"Oh." Ezio pauses, thinks hard, then says, "she's not a guy. Also, she's not Leonardo."

"You'll never be either of those things," Leonardo says helpfully, and Rosa flips him off.

"Right, everyone," The therapist says, "let's be done for the day. I think we've made lots of- uh- progress." And threats, but saying that would probably cause more.

"Progress," Ezio mutters, shoving back his chair and stalking out.

"I wouldn't expect you to know what that is, it's too similar to BEING USEFUL!" Rosa screams after him.

"Are you sure you're a proper therapist?" Leonardo pauses to ask, "I don't feel like we've gotten anywhere at all."

After they've finally gone, the therapist slumps down at his desk, sighing.

Maybe he'd do better to look into finding a job at the harbour instead. Surely dock workers didn't go around screaming anything more strange than obscenities at each other, and certainly didn't accuse each other of – well, whatever the hell it was that had been going through Ezio's head.

"Hey, Ezio," he hears Leonardo's voice from outside, "it means a lot to me to know that the only circumstances that would make you cheat on me would be getting possessed by a dead prostitute."

Life had to be less strange in other professions.

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Hope everyone liked that!

Love ya,

Sunshine