Let me just warn you really quick- I've never played AC 2! And I do have a good reason, I swear it! I'm a PC gamer, (the xbox controller for the PC is a godsend. it was so hard to go diagonally leaping across rooftops when you've got only four arrow keys to work with) and I'm waiting for AC2 to come out.

Like, next year. 90-something days left...

The title means "To Be Something"; Grazie, Blu, for the help with it :D

I was fascinated by this 'five times/one time didn't' idea... but didn't want this to be just a challenge fic. So it is, in essence, Five Times Leonardo Asked For A Hug And One Time He Didn't, just expanded a bit. So that's why the chapters are so short! Except a better story once I've gotten my hands on the game :D Currently playing AC1… love that game, and I hear the second one is even better!

DISC 1: No idea who Antonio is. If he exists in the game, it's him. if there isn't one, assume he's my character. :D
DISC 2: My Italian may be a twinge off, for which I apologize. I haven't studied it in a while... but that's what winter break's for :D

DISC 3: Yes, I should be screamed at for jumping all over the place like this, (because I know some of you click on that author alert email before realizing it's for the wrong category) but… ADD mind. Couldn't help m'self. :D I'll update your story soon :)

So, here we go. Enjoy!

xxxxxxxxxxx

Leonardo had heard about Venezia.

He had tried to paint it before, based on nothing but imagination. The city of his paintings had a maze of canals, shrouded alternatively in fog or sunlight, literally from a dream. The city around him was all gray stone and water, shadows curled alongside buildings, extending a stone-cold touch even as sunlight stained the ground besides them. Water lapped at the edges of the canals in a hushed purr, pigeons strutting alongside, as people wound past Leonardo, gazes glossing over him.

It was always fascinating to Leonardo, a fascination with perhaps a twinge of the bittersweet, that he was so separated from his work.

He was not one with the work he produced, their beauty not reflected upon him lest it be through his signature. People would marvel at his paintings, his sculptures, his sketches, call him brilliant and deem him awe-inspiring. Should he be seen without his paintings, he felt depressingly average, felt the absurd need to prove himself extraordinary, to mention to strangers that he could produce beauty from his mind and hands. Leonardo didn't like being separated from his work; he felt lost without the admiration and respect his work granted him, hungered for his achieved recognition that was lost when he was without proof. Those who did not know him as an artist, he felt, did not know him at all. That which he lacked but could sometimes possess stung the most.

He had tasted something like superiority, the extraordinary, and to be rendered without it for so much of his life was agony. He had been miraculous, through his work; in his everyday life, he wished for the feel of fulfillment he could not hold onto, not without his work. He wished for the feel of fulfillment without having to show the proof that he was worthy.

People continued to shoulder by as he wandered after their chattering guide, who would take three steps forward, spin around and take five backwards, trip back around and continue forward facing the destination, then back around, hands waving and words flowing.

Leonardo didn't notice.

"Dové il monolocale?" Ezio muttered from behind him, sounding surly because the studio in question was taking so long to find. Leonardo turned to look at him, but Ezio was glaring down at the ground, hood hiding his face.

"I think it's close to here" Leonardo answered, attention snagging on a market stand. The little figuring was a figuring of a person that could be moved into different poses; Leonardo had always been entranced by the flawless construction of the human body. "Look, isn't it amazing?" He turned his gaze from the figuring to Ezio. The assassin's gaze moved to him, for a moment, eyes brown like chocolate; Leonardo supposed Ezio fancied himself unreadable. "Would you mind buying it for me? I, um, I left my money with my bags." He could see the yes in Ezio's eyes, a yes, if I could. Ezio could steal for him, nothing more.

Nothing less; he could perhaps offer the world.

And always nothing more; he could offer nothing of true possession. Nothing.

Leonardo slipped on ahead as Ezio barked at a boy that careened by them; a few moments later, Leonardo could sense Ezio following along after him, could tell Ezio was trying to act normal, to keep the silence out of his steps. As he tried to be something besides an assassin. He could never chase the assassin from himself.

There had been a time, when Ezio was something other than an assassin; once, he had been more, a friend, a son, a student, as well as an assassin. Leonardo wondered if that had merely been forms of being an assassin, variations of what he was now; friend of assassins, son of an assassin, student to become an assassin. But variations nonetheless. That had been before it became him, like the mask that became a face. Leonardo wondered if Ezio missed being anything else.

Leonardo knew Ezio was there, if only because he recognized the faint scent of spices, his attention focused more on the assassin than on their guide. The man was talking about a church they passed, a tiny building tucked between taller walls of stone. Leonardo felt a hand at the small of his back, Ezio's voice in his ear, "it is nothing to look at, but you will be astounded by the music."

"Do you know everything about the city?" Leonardo didn't miss the swift smile this earned him from the assassin.

"More than most believe there is to be known." He was still looking around; Leonardo still didn't know if this was out of wariness or mere interest, "I'll tell you about it sometime."

"Even the secrets no one should know?"

"Si, even those." Ezio smiled, "How could I keep anything from you?"

At least, Leonardo thought, turning to watch a gondola be guided beneath a bridge, Ezio wasn't hiding anything intentionally.

"Why did you choose Venezia, Leonardo?" Ezio asked, striding alongside him almost silently, "I was wondering that."

Why? Leonardo wasn't going to share that, no. Baring his soul was something he liked to imagine he was capable of and even liked partaking in, but he couldn't deny the urge to shy away.

"That, Ezio, will be the one secret Venezia will keep from you" he smiled at Ezio's puzzled look, "Maybe I just like the masks."

Ezio laughed, softly, like his attention had already darted away after Leonardo's evasive answer, to hunt it and pin it down to force a confession from him.

Their guide was talking about the gondolas, something that made Ezio snicker.

"What?" Leonardo inquired of the assassin, whose grin only widened.

"I've sunk my fair share of those, you could say."

Leonardo shook his head, hiding a smile. They reached the studio, and Leonardo bid their guide goodbye, turned back to Ezio.

"Care to come in?"

"Maybe later, I need to visit-" he rattled off something, but all Leonardo heard was the music of the words, the tumble of letters, from the hum of an m to the deep roll of the r. Leonardo half wanted to be a true musician, inspired by the beauty in words, but the words themselves would always distract him from the notes on the page.

"Should you find yourself with free time or another codex page," or the irrepressible desire to see me, "don't hesitate to visit. My door is always open."

And windows, given Ezio's typical method of entering a building.

Common sense fought emotion and hardly a heartbeat later, Leonardo gave in, held out his arms for an embrace. Ezio was looking away, though, at something Leonardo probably wouldn't have thought to see.

"Grazie, my friend." His gaze flickered back to Leonardo; the artist couildn't help his crushed look as he slid his hands into his pockets.

You can't even give me that? He had trouble keeping the bitterness from his voice when he next spoke, "Di niente. Return when you have a codex page, won't you?"

"Si, amico mio. Perhaps sooner." He started to walk past, paused to set a hand on Leonardo's shoulder. "Would that be all right?"

"Si, si."

He turned to watch Ezio leave, but the assassin was already gone, footsteps having disappeared into the silence, because he only tried to be something besides an assassin for Leonardo.

xxxxxxxxx

Hope everyone liked that!

Please, please review! I absolutely LOVE getting them :D

Love ya,

Sunshine