Desmond was nervous. It could have been because he was going to be without Altair and Ezio for the next couple of weeks, it could have been because his assassin missions had been coming in fewer and fewer as the days went on. There was little legitimate work for him to do alongside his two lovers, and because of that, he had resorted to taking up bar tending again at a local joint where the only bar goers were bikers and ruffians.

Then again, his nerves could have been set on end because of their new house-sitter.

Due to Desmond's abnormal hours at work, Altair's and Ezio's absence, and the lack of trust the three assassins had for anyone outside of their order, the oldest of the three of them had called in an old friend to help watch the house while they were all away.

Malik Al-Sayf.

The name sent a shiver down his spine, and not in the good way, like Altair's did when Ezio muttered it in bed, though that detail spent little time occupying Desmond's mind once he heard the doorbell ring.

"Is that Malik?" Desmond heard Altair call from upstairs, most likely still getting ready for their undercover mission. "Let him in, Desmond, and be kind this time, please?"

Desmond frowned, standing from his place, sitting on the couch, and making his way over to the door as slow as possible. He remembered the first time that he had ever met Malik, outside of his memories in the animus, which were frightening enough.

The one armed assassin had been honest but short tempered, a combination that both frightened Desmond, and made him feel like he had to do everything in his power to live up to the man's expectations. Needless to say, he had been less than successful.

"Hello, Desmond." Malik greeted as kindly as he possibly could, smiling just a little bit at the younger man when the door opened. "Are those two idiots still here?" He asked, looking around when Desmond stepped aside to allow him in.

Desmond frowned, trying to think of a reply that was witty enough, but whatever he was thinking about saying would have fallen on deaf ears anyway, as the very same two idiots that Malik was referring to strutted down the stairs, clad in business suits and briefcases.

"I have to say," Ezio said to no one in particular while he checked himself out in the closest mirrored surface. "I do not mind this centuries' clothing. It flatters me, does it not?"

"Keep your eyes off of yourself and on your mission, Ezio." Desmond found himself muttering, much to the surprise of the other three men in the room. Usually it would have been Malik to make that comment, or something along similar lines, but Desmond desperately wanted to get this week over with, and if Ezio kept screwing around like that, then it would just take longer for them to get home.

Ezio looked up at Desmond, shocked, but quickly recovered, smirking slightly as he lowered himself into a condescending bow, never keeping his eyes off of Desmond. "Yes, Maestro." He growled out, in no mood for anyone to talk down to him.

The frown on Desmond's face deepened, then quickly turned apologetic. "I'm sorry Ezio I'm just..."

"Nervous?" The Italian asked, straightening up and smiling at his younger lover, equally apologetically. "I understand, just try to behave yourself, okay?"

The younger man nodded, then looked up to Altair. "A week?" He asked, feeling little relief when the older assassin nodded. "You promise?" He asked again, wanting confirmation for the millionth time.

"I don't know what you're so nervous about, Desmond." Altair said, placing his hands on Desmond's shoulders as comfortingly as possible. "But you'll be fine, I promise. Malik will be here when you're not and there will always be someone in the house with you, so it will not be terribly quiet with Ezio and I away." He leaned down to place a kiss on Desmond's cheek. "I promise, everything will be okay. We'll be home within a week, and if we are you have full privilege to throw as many knives at us as you can."

Desmond nodded, leaning up to peck Altair's lips in response to the kiss on his cheek. "Just hurry." He muttered, low enough so that Malik wouldn't hear him. He turned to Ezio afterwords, smiling at him softly. "Good luck, you two." He said to the two of them, placing a kiss on Ezio's cheek. "And come back safe, this time, please? I don't want to have to wrap anymore bandages around either of you."

"We will, we will!" Ezio grinned at him as the two older assassins left the house out of the front door, leaving Malik and Desmond standing there awkwardly.

When the tension became too much to bear, Desmond smiled apologetically at Malik. "I'll show you where your room is..." He muttered, leading the older man up the steps and down the second floor hall to the guest bedroom.

Behind him, Malik followed, his footsteps were light, so much so that Desmond could barely make out how close behind him the other man was. Altair had said that it would never be too terribly quiet with someone else in the house. Had he forgotten that Malik was next to silent compared to himself and Ezio?

"Here it is..." Desmond muttered, opening the guest room door. "Just... make yourself at home." He shrugged, allowing Malik to step forward and into the room.

"What you said to Ezio, earlier," Malik said, turning to face Desmond once he was in the room. "Good job, not many people can stand up to him or Altair like that."

Desmond forced back a blush and nodded his thanks. "Uh... thanks, I guess..." He shrugged. He wasn't 'many people' after all. When Malik closed the door and Desmond was down the hall and in the kitchen, he couldn't help but grin.

He'd managed to finally impress Malik, and – for some reason – that made him feel a little bit accomplished inside.