Who: Alex Roivas and Ezio Auditore. What: Last appointment. When: Wednesday, 11/13. Where: His office. Rating: PG-13. Status: Complete!
They’d rescheduled Alex’s appointment for the following day, and Ezio felt a bit more like himself by then. He felt physically better, even if there seemed to be something profoundly wrong with his brain. By the time she was walking into his office, he’d discovered a complete inability to lie or even rephrase the truth in the way he usually did. Thank the good Lord that Mrs. Summers wasn’t due for a week or so yet! And yet he was still nervous. Maybe Alex would simply decide not to show up ...
Alex had arrived, and she’d brought chicken soup anyway. Let him think that she was just invested in their friendship, which she was. She had a pounding headache, and was wearing her sunglasses. A huge bottle of water was under one arm when she came in. “Hey, Doc. Brought you soup anyway.”
Ezio smiled when he saw her, though it quickly disappeared. “You are kind to do this, Alex. What happened to you? Are you ill?” She looked exhausted.
“Hungover,” Alex sighed. “I didn’t know it was possible to sweat bourbon, but it totally is.” She smiled right back at him anyway, though, settling into her chair and taking a swig of her water.
“You have my sympathy.” Ezio grimaced. “What saw you fit to get so inebriated?” He took the soup, setting it down and inhaling. “You really are kind. It smells very nice.”
“Eh, I was an idiot with a friend, I didn’t want to think about it.” She smiled to herself. “It’s all homemade, I had roast chicken left over from last night, so might as well make a stock, right?”
“I would not have done so; I am terrible at cooking.” He was still a little worried about telling her the unvarnished truth, but so far he’d done all right. “It is impressive, that you can just do this out of nowhere.”
“It’s not that hard, really. I was a latchkey kid, so I had to teach myself how to cook. And as I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’m kind of a perfectionist.” She’d not been content to just learn how to use the microwave; by twelve she’d been making her own pasta by hand.
“Call it a hunch,” Ezio said dryly, amused. “You have perfectionist tendencies, signorina. I am sure that they serve you well.”
“Just a few.” She chuckled to herself. “But yeah, I can’t stand crap food, couldn’t then, can’t now. So I just figured out how to make what I want.”
“I do not have that skill. I think I am a bad Italian. I love when women cook for me, but I am somewhat nervous to ask for it, as I do not wish to be thought misogynist.” Ezio blinked, kicking himself for being so honest.
“I guess that makes sense, if you asked guys to cook for you they might think you were asking them out.” Alex chuckled to herself. “You’re not a bad Italian. You like pasta even if you can’t make it, right?” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m probably a bad Polish girl, I’d rather have gnocchi than pierogi.”
“Of course. I would truly be a terrible Italian if that were not so!” Ezio laughed. “Alex, I do not think you could be bad at anything.” Cazzo! There it went again.
She went beet red behind her sunglasses, pushing them up onto her head. “You okay there, Doc? You get laid last night or something?” She hoped he realized she was teasing and that he didn’t have to answer that.
“No, I was lying awake thinking about how in my dreams, my uncle has told me that I am an Assassin, destined to fight Templars throughout my life and avenge the murders of my family.” Ezio blinked. “I also think that I may be cursed by this particular Orange County problem of being unable, currently, to lie.”
“Templars? The old knight order?” Alex took her sunglasses off outright, setting them down. “Did you? Avenge your family that is.” The not lying thing was easily worked around if she didn’t ask him anything that wasn’t personal. This, she figured he’d already tell her anyway.
“Not yet.” Ezio shook his head. “And they began that way, yes - but the Templars are much more than the ancient order. They wish to dominate the world. Take away free will. The Assassini stand in their way.”
Alex smiled at him, unable to keep the starry-eyedness out of her expression. “So you fight for people’s rights to choose in all things. That’s very noble, Ezio.”
“This does appear to be what they do. What we do.” Ezio damned near blushed at how she looked at him. It just slipped out. “Alex, you are aware that I find you attractive, yes? I only cannot do anything that would jeopardize my job. I would have to go back to Italy if I did. Cazzo! Merda!”
Her eyes went wide at that, and she couldn’t help but blush deeply. “I can guess what merda means. No. I had no idea.” She bit her lower lip to keep from grinning like a lunatic.
“I cannot lie at all, and it is most inconvenient. I do not want to scare you or upset you.” But she was smiling, and he relaxed just a bit. “I do not, however, see that you are scared or angry.”
“Why do you think I got drunk last night? I thought you were all ‘crazy American woman shoo’.” Alex laughed at herself, burying her face in her hands. “See, and I can lie, I just didn’t because clearly I’m an idiot.”
Ezio looked confused. “I will never understand women,” he said, and while it was the truth, he hoped it wasn’t a rude truth. “I say what I wish to say, and ladies twist it into all manner of alternate meanings which are not so. I think it has to do with ladies being socialized to internalize everything, which is just so wrong.”
“Well, that and we’ve never really gotten guys, I think. I think a lot of them think that we’re fragile and delicate so they talk around what they want to say to us instead of just talking.” Alex smiled and shook her head. “So. Hypothetically speaking - could you see me after my treatment? When I’m not your patient?”
“Yes.” Ezio replied, blushing, given how fast it seemed to come out. “I - yes. Sometimes the patient-doctor privilege lasts even after the appointments cease, but in this case it would not, when it is only a formality.”
“And we haven’t done any sort of treatment or anything.” Alex grinned. “So, hypothetically, wanna get a beer sometime?”
“Yes. Hypothetically.” Ezio grinned. “You are very engaging, Alex. You are self-sufficient, and I admire that.”
“What about seriously?” She bit her lower lip. “Wait, shit, no, I’m still your patient. Pretend I ask that later.”
“As soon as we complete the appointment, then we can discuss other things.” Ezio smiled, relieved. “I should ask you how you are - your shoulder does appear much more healed, which is obviously good.”
“It is, yeah. I have a lot more mobility in my rotator cuff than I thought I would.” Alex didn’t move her shoulder, her PT had told her to take it easy.
“Getting it back to normal is obviously the first priority.” This was okay. He could settle in in this subject. “You have not acquired any sort of complex about inadequacy while recuperating?” He teased.
“That would explain all of the emails I’ve been getting from Russia,” Alex teased. “Maybe my penis really is small.”
Ezio laughed. “What a pity! Though I am not homosexual, so perhaps it is for the best.” He winked.
Pretending to look dejected, Alex sighed heavily. “Yeah, probably. Considering I don’t have a penis and all.” She laughed merrily, wondering how many times Ezio had heard the word penis in a non-Freudian way that day.
More than she could count. Ezio just smiled, though. “One thing we may wish to discuss is your apparent temptation to drown your problems in alcohol. I assure you, though, you can do better than me.”
“Eh, old habits die hard. I drink maybe twice a month, though, so I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. I could probably stand to scale back, though.” Alex slid her sunglasses into the inside pocket of her jacket. “It was better than moping.”
:I might disagree. I mean, I do not think you are alcoholic either, but I think that any tendency to drown one’s feelings can be problematic.” Ezio smiled. “Just ... do please think twice in the future, si?”
“I will.” Alex couldn’t help blushing again, ducking her head a little. “So. Am I sane?”
“Almost depressingly so.” Ezio laughed. “You have your share of problems, but you are about as well adjusted as one can manage to be. You do not overly hate your mother - you do not waste your time - and you have a good attitude toward your job and its attendant violence.”
“Aww, you think I’m well-adjusted. That’s ... honestly a really nice thing to say.” Some girls wanted to hear they were pretty. Alex figured that would fade and it wasn’t really that big a deal anyway. She’d take well adjusted.
“You are much more well adjusted than some of the people I see on a daily basis. You are someone I would like to spend time with, and I tend to be discerning in who I choose to pass my days with.” Ezio smiled. It felt so much less intimidating now, to tell the truth. Maybe this was good for him.
“I - “ Alex wasn’t used to someone being so honest, so open, and she felt struck dumb. She was just grinning at him, cheeks pink. “Um, ditto?”
“Remember, I cannot lie. Which up until now has been extremely annoying, but I do like how you look when you blush.” Ezio grinned, turning pink himself.
“I can, which is stupid, because I haven’t been.” She smirked to herself. “You just bring the truth out of me.” Could her hour go any slower?
“All joking and current oddity aside, I would hope so. In my professional capacity, I must deal in truth. Coming here and telling me lies helps no patient. And it does not help me to be a better psychologist, for that matter.” Ezio shrugged.
“I could have been a bit more smooth, you know that.” Alex bit her lower lip. “But yeah, I’ve yet to lie to you, or even fib. I’ll probably keep that up, FYI. I might tactfully say things, but I’m honest to a fault.”
“I do approve of that, in truth.” Ezio smiled. “I dislike white lies; they only cause aggravation. If I think you look fat in something, I will tell you, but hopefully in a way which spares your feelings. I still would much rather tell you, so you do not hit me later.”
“Honestly, I’d never ask. If I don’t like how I look in something, I don’t need someone else’s opinion on it.” Alex grinned. “I’m a big girl, I can pick out my own clothes.”
“Good.” Ezio laughed. He looked up at the clock. “I think it is perhaps close enough to four o’clock, don’t you? There is paperwork to do, after all.” He smiled.
“Do you think so?” She stood up, stretching a little and pulling out one of her business cards from her wallet. “Here. In case you feel like you need to call me for some reason.”
“You did ask me out.” Ezio winked. “When would you like me to call?”
“Whenever you want. Are you free on Friday, around eight?” Alex grinned up at him, liking that he was so much taller than her. When had she moved so close to him?
“Let me look.” He honestly wasn’t sure; he had late patients. Ezio flipped into his appointment book, then grinned as he saw the blank page. “My last patient departs at seven. So perhaps eight-thirty? I will need time to return home and prepare.”
“I can do that.” Alex grinned, looking up and smirking. “You have to get all gussied up, Doc?”
“I need to decompress from the rigors of seeing patients for eight hours.” Ezio smiled - that was truth, but hopefully not a very rude truth. “Also, Alex, once we complete the paperwork? You are free to call me Ezio.”
“You should probably back up a little,” she smirked. “Or I’m going to try to kiss you on the cheek before we’re done with the paperwork. Dio mio.”
“We cannot have that, strictly speaking.” Ezio laughed. “Here, give it to me.” The paperwork, of course.
Alex forked over her paperwork. “Here go, Doc.” She liked his name - it was really pretty - but his nickname would stick for public.
“Thanks.” Ezio signed it with a flourish, handing it back to her. “And I will see you at eight-thirty on Friday.” Hopefully it would work out. He liked her.