My first attempt at (somewhat) of a romance...which I distinctly remember swearing to never, ever attempt, but I suppose this is what anime does to you, lol. Introducing one of my favorite ships! I love the Fate series, so this will be fun (:

Enjoy, and as always, please review and let me know what you think!

Chapter One

An Unexpected Development

He's spent millennia alone, but it's only taken a few short days for him to grow used to the routine of coming in from his usual nightly patrol to prepare breakfast, set the water to boil for tea, and make sure that the old-fashioned heating system has enough water heated for a bath before the clock strikes seven.

Normally his chores are interrupted by the muffled thump and ensuing groan of Tohsaka Rin dragging herself out of bed and into the bathroom down the hall. She'll reappear a good forty-five minutes later, still a bit groggy with sleep, but dressed in her uniform with her hair brushed and awake enough to grumble at him while she sips her tea.

Today, though, the clock strikes seven, and there is no sound of muffled footsteps overhead, no distant thump as she staggers into the bathroom and turns on the tap.

He waits a few more minutes, finishing the tea -she prefers Earl Grey in the mornings, even though at night she always wants something sweeter- and finally heads upstairs to check on his Master and make sure she hasn't managed to knock herself out on the nightstand or something.

He knocks on the door before entering, just to be sure. He materialized once when she had been in the middle of changing -arguably, he had no way of knowing what she had been doing, but he'd still gotten a shirt thrown at his head, accompanied by a few muffled threats from behind the old-fashioned wardrobe, while he tried to calmly explain that no, he had not seen anything.

There's no reply, so he opens the door and cautiously pokes his head in. "Rin?"

The room is dark. Cracks of light frame the heavy drapes on the far side of the room, besides the shadowy shape of the four-poster bed. He makes his way over to it, maneuvering around the stacks of books piled haphazardly on the floor and on the table by the foot of the bed, and sighs at the heap of dirty clothes tossed carelessly in one corner.

"Rin," he says, shaking her shoulder. The muffled bundle of sheets stirs and a tangled dark head appears, blinking dark blue eyes up at him blearily. "Nyeh...g'way..." Rin mumbles, and buries her face back in the pillow.

"Rin," he says in minor exasperation, "You're going to be late for school."

"Don't care," she mutters, her voice muffled in the pillow. He sighs and decides on the simplest course of action; he yanks the sheets off and tosses them aside pitilessly when Rin yelps and grabs for them.

Archer looks down at his Master. Rin glares blearily up at him, her long yellow nightgown puddled around her hips and her black hair falling past her shoulders in tangled strands as she clutches a pillow to her chest, apparently now awake enough to speak coherently.

"I was up until two," she grumbles, and sneezes, making another unsuccessful grab at the blankets. Archer pulls them away. "I did warn you about staying up late," he says unsympathetically. "It's past seven. You're going to be late if you don't hurry."

Rin blinks at her clock and moans and topples back face first onto her pillow. "I'm not going," she mumbles. "Just leave me alone."

Archer raises a pale brow at her. "Ah," he says dryly. "So first you tell Emiya Shirou that you will meet him at school today, and then you forget about it and stay up late again?" He clicks his tongue in mock disapproval and shakes his head. "What an unreliable master I have." He dodges the pillow aimed at his head, expecting a retaliation of some sort. Rin sits up again and glares at him. "Heartless jerk," she mumbles half-heartedly. He tosses the pillow back to her. "Breakfast is downstairs when you're ready," he says, and pauses in the doorway and glances back and adds wickedly, "By the way, you might want to wipe the drool off your face before you come down."

He's rewarded by a shout of "You jerk!" and another pillow thrown at his head. He ducks easily and closes the door behind him with a mocking bow as Rin scrambles to her feet, still calling him names. "And I do not drool!" she shouts through the closed door at him.

"Whatever you say, Master," he calls back, smirking. There's a thump, presumably as Rin stumbles over the pile of books on the floor, and a muffled curse. Whistling, Archer heads back downstairs, making a mental note to clean up her room whenever he gets the chance.

As much as he refuses to admit it, he's grown accustomed this daily routine. Rin is a capable Master, for all her faults, and he enjoys teasing her and watching her flush and snap back a sharp retort. It's definitely a pleasant change from the barren landscape and endless repetition of murder and meaningless slaughter that's grown to define his current existence.

He's in a rare good mood as he sets out the tea, despite the knowledge that he's going to have to watch Emiya Shirou blunder his way through yet another conversation with his master this afternoon. He hasn't felt happy for longer that he can remember –can't even remember what it feels like, to be happy and without regret- but this strange contentedness is the closest he's come in a long, long time.

At least, until there's another thump on the stairs behind him and Rin stumbles blearily into the living room and collapses on the couch, where she promptly curls up and clutches her head.

Archer raises an eyebrow. "Did you fall and hit yourself?" he asks, feeling another flicker of exasperation. Really, this girl…

"Shut up," Rin mumbles, and squeezes her eyes shut as if the light hurts them. He frowns a little, but chooses to ignore it. "Here's your breakfast," he says briskly, setting the plate down next to the china tea cup. Rin doesn't open her eyes. "I'm not hungry," she mumbles.

Archer sighs. "You should eat something," he says. "Fighting on an empty stomach is likely to get you killed."

"I'll be fine," she mutters, and reluctantly opens her eyes. She pushes herself up and stands, swaying, and looks dazedly around her like she doesn't quite know where she is.

Archer's frown deepens. Now he notices the hot flush in her face, the too-bright look in her dark eyes. She turns, blinking blearily at the doorway, and scowls at him as he steps closer and presses a hand to her rumpled bangs. "What're you doing?" she says, sounding annoyed, but she can't even summon the energy to shove his hand away, stumbling as she tries to step back.

Archer grabs her arm to keep her from falling. "I knew it," he says with a frown. "You have a fever."

Rin scowls up at him. "What you are talking about?" she demands, and sways a little. Archer tightens his grip on her arm. "I'm fine." She tugs her arm away. "Stop joking around and let me go."

Archer folds his arms across his chest. "You have a fever," he repeats, ignoring her. "You should stay home and rest."

"I said I'm fine," Rin insists. She takes another step back and wobbles dizzily, then seems to find her balance enough to make it to the doorway. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Archer raises an eyebrow, considering whether he should tell her or not, and decides that it's no fun taking advantage of her when she's clearly so disorientated. "Rin," he says with painstaking patience. She turns to look back at him. "What?" she says irritably. Archer gestures at her school bag, still lying on the couch where she'd dropped it. "Forgetting something?"

She glares at him and grabs her bag, then stalks back to the doorway. He watches her brace herself against the wall for a moment, her shoulders rising and falling unsteadily, before clumsily making her way out into the hall, and sighs for what feels like the fifth time that morning.

Rin almost walks into him as he moves to block the doorway. She blinks up at him, a little bemused, and frowns. "Move," she says, reaching past him for the knob.

"You are not going to school," he says flatly. Rin ignores him. "Don't be ridiculous," she snaps, trying to push past him. "You said it yourself, I have to meet up with Emiya-kun. Besides, I'm perfectly fi-" she breaks off, coughing.

"So I see," Archer says dryly. Rin glares at him and opens her mouth to say something, but another coughing fit interrupts her. Archer waits patiently for her to straighten again, gasping for breath, and folds his arms, barring the door. "Rest," he says firmly. "You're burning up. I will tell Emiya Shirou that you are sick and cannot make it today." He hides a grimace at the thought.

Rin has that stubborn look on her face again that he's all too familiar with by this point. It means that his master has made up her mind and nothing is going to stop her. "Rin," he says again, although he knows it's useless.

"Don't be such a worrywart," Rin says, and coughs again. "It's just a little cold. Let's go."

He moves aside and watches wordlessly as she walks out the door, clutching her bag. She's still stumbling a little, but her gaze seems a bit clearer, and he's just starting to think that she might make it after all when she trips over her own feet at the bottom-most step and goes down.

Archer sighs and walks over to help pull her to her feet. "As much as I would enjoy watching you fall flat on your face again, I doubt the other Servants would find it quite as amusing," he says, moving to block her as she tries to step past him. She glares at him, but she's swaying again, frowning as she tries to focus through feverishly bright eyes. "I'm-" she manages, and doubles over, coughing.

Archer steadies her. "Do I have to ask you again, or are you going to make me carry you?" he asks, a little too patiently. Rin narrows her eyes at him, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the way she clutches his arm as she fights to stay upright. "Jerk," she mumbles, but even the insult is half-hearted.

Looking at her, he realizes that it's unlikely that she can even make it back up the front steps without falling again. Her entire face is flushed with fever, and her dark hair is damp with sweat, her breathing unsteady. Her grip on his arm is weak, her fingers clenched in the crimson fabric of his jacket as she tries to stand. She yelps and struggles when he scoops her up briskly in his arm and walks back into the house, ignoring her cries of, "Hey! Let go of me –you jerk- I can walk by myself-"

He carries her up the flight of stairs, still wriggling and shouting insults, and dumps her unceremoniously into her four-poster bed. "Rest," he says firmly. "I'll make tea."

Rin scowls at him. "I'm fine," she mutters rebelliously, but she doesn't try to get up. Archer rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say, Master. What kind of tea would you like?"

"…Chamomile," she mumbles at last. Archer nods and leaves, closing the door firmly behind him.

Well, he thinks as he heads back downstairs, this will be interesting.