Don't own, wish i could but all this belongs to narfing Bioware. Please excuse it's horridness it has not yet been beta'd but i felt I needed to get SOMETHING to my loyal readers. Sorry it's taken me forever and please don't expect part two anytime soon.


The sound of a frying pan hitting the pavement echoed up and down the neighborhood. The thrower was a small, thin woman with bright red hair, green eyes, and a fiery disposition to match. Her strident, Scottish accent could be heard over the TVs the neighbors had turned up to tune out the usual argument.

"You never pay rent, you never clean up, and you are always bringing home your junkie dates and having sex with them on my couch! I'm done being nice to you, Anders! Get your stuff out of here and never come back!"

"Neria," he whined, putting on the patented pout that had changed her mind so many times before, "it was just that one time! I cleaned it, didn't I? And there was only that one junkie; I dumped him after I found out." he crossed his fingers and prayed.

"But you don't hesitate to keep bringing those pothead art students over." She'd stopped yelling at him. He hoped that was a good sign. "You know I'm allergic to that shit and I know it wasn't just your friends smoking it. Get out before I call the cops."

Good sign it was not. "But what about my stuff?"

"I packed for you." She left to another part of the house and returned with a duffel bag. "There. That's all of it. Now leave."

He looked nervously at his bag and then back up at her. "What about..." he trailed off.

"I flushed it."

He paled and his eyes grew wide. "That was a hundred dollars worth! How could you!"

She snorted. "I could say the same to you after all the stunts you pulled. Now get out. I don't want to have to say it again."

He sighed and shouldered on his bag before he walked out of the house for the last time. He stood on the sidewalk and let the cool breeze wash over him before he pulled out his phone and called the only person he could think of.

The ringback played some funky classic music for a moment and then, "Hello?"

"Jowan? Thank the Maker. Look man, Neria just kicked me out and-"

"What? Well, you can't stay here, I have uh... uhm. No room." He could almost hear the blush on the other end of the line.

"Shit man, I wouldn't ask if I had any place else to go right now. You and Solona can stop fucking long enough to put me up for the night right?"

"Anders... Solona and I broke up three months ago. Which you'd know if you called more often."

"Shit man. What happened?"

"She cheated. But that's not the point. I have someone else here and..."

"And? Who's the babe?"

The other end was silent for a few seconds. "Alistair."

Anders blinked, not sure he'd heard correctly. "Alistair? As in 'I'm Mr. Sexy star Quarterback?' That Alistair?"

"Uh-huh. So you see why I can't have you over?"

"Yeah man. Shit. Know anyplace else I could go?"

"You could always join The Wardens. I hear they take on people who've got no options. But they're picky. You're going to have to give up a lot of your uh... extra-curricular activities."

"Well considering Neria just flushed a hundred dollar stash, seems I've got no choice."

"Alright. I'll text you the phone number."

"Thanks man. I'll... I'll call more often. I promise."

A laugh. "Alistair is a part of The Wardens. You'll be in my life more than you want."

The blonde man sighed with relief and sagged against a light pole. "Man, This is crazy. If I can ever repay you for all of this..."

"You did. When you got me and those other kids out of Tower High. I'm paying you back for all that you did for us after you graduated."

"I'd have done that for anyone. No one deserved to get treated like that. Authority should never act like that. They never should have let the jocks run that place."

"Still. It's a lot to make up for."

Anders sighed. "Alright. Fine. Just text me the number you dork."

"Of course."

When the line when dead in his ear, he closed the small pay-as-you-go flip phone and waited for the text. The device buzzed in his hand and he eagerly flipped it back open and hit ok before hitting the send button. The phone rang, and the art student tapped his foot impatiently.

"Hello? This is public relations office for The Wardens," a Spanish accent purred over the line, "Zevran speaking. How can I direct your call this afternoon?"

"Uh, my name is Anders. I'm an art student at Denerim U. I, um. I was just kicked out of my house and I need some place to stay. I don't have a job or any money left."

"I see. I'll put you on the books right away then. You'll be meeting Miss Elissa and her brother," the voice seemed to grow even more sultry, "Aedan at the Lakeside cafe in half an hour. They will instruct you on how to become a member of our Fraternity."

"A frat? Jowan didn't say anything about this being a frat."

"Jowan? Ah yes! The delightfully shy darling that Alistair is dating. Well, if you have problems with it being a fraternity then I'm afraid we can't help you and you'll have to find someplace else to stay. A cardboard box, perhaps?"

"No!" he blurted, "It's fine! I'll meet them there. Not a problem. Thanks for your help!"

"I knew you'd see it my way. Have a wonderful afternoon."

The phone clicked in his ear and he groaned. Just what had he gotten himself into? Well it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he now had a place to live (hopefully) and they might even find him a job so he could pay rent. He took a deep breath and started hoofing it. He'd need to hurry if he was going to get to the cafe in time.

Zevran set the phone down with a smirk and then glanced up from the desk. "Ah! Nathaniel, did you need something from us?"

Nathaniel Howe frowned down at the man in front of him. He didn't really believe Zevran was actually a student here. "I'd like you to stop giving people bits and pieces of my home."

"No can do. It's out of my hands completely, the Cousland siblings bought this place fair and square when your father died and you were in the army overseas."

Nathaniel grunted. He knew that, but it never hurt to ask. Maybe he could bother them into giving it back. He just had to find more creative ways to be annoying. "Fine. In that case you can turn the electricity back on for my cottage in the back. It's not like I don't pay rent."

"Can do." Zevran mock saluted him. "I'll get maintenance on it right away."

The former soldier snorted. "Sure. After he's done blowing you under the table." A sigh, "Just get it done soon." And he spun away from the desk and headed back outside to his own little piece of privacy.

Nathaniel Howe had gone on his tour of duty fresh out of high school and he had returned four years later to find that his father's home and lands had been turned into a frat house for the group that called themselves The Wardens. Not only that, but the family that bought it was none other than the rival "rich" kids in town, the Cousland siblings.

He was suitably enraged but when he tracked down his father's lawyers they told him it was completely out of their hands. The place had been put up for auction since his father left no will, Thomas had been killed in a barfight some years earlier and his sister had run off with some small business owner to California.

The former private stood quietly in his sun drenched kitchen until the hum of electricity announced that the power had been returned. With a sigh, he trooped over to his living room and flopped himself on the couch. A little TV is just what the doctor ordered. he though, groping for the remote and pressing the red silicone button. The TV flared to life, bathing the room in a muted white glow as It's a Wonderful Life played for the umpteenth time.

He frowned and stared at his empty lap, then into the kitchen at the microwave. He waffled for a few moments on whether or not he should get up and get some popcorn before his need to indulge himself outweighed his desire to laze on the sofa. As he hauled himself up he thought, I hope nothing else will go wrong today.


"So where did you hear about our little family from?" Anders tried very hard to not stare at the cleavage being presented to him. "I mean, it's not like everyone knows about us. We tend to keep to ourselves." Elissa shifted again, showing off more cleavage.

Anders jerked his gaze away and stammered, "Ah, well... Jowan told me-"

"Mmm. Alistair's toy." Aedan gave his sister a significant look before turning back to Anders. "What's your major?"

"A-art."

"Fucking artfags," Aedan snorted, "Nothing illegal in our frat. You got it?"

Anders grunted. "I don't have any choice. If I do, I'm out on the streets. How do you feel about visitors?"

Aedan eyed him up and down. "As long as they're clean and if your roomie doesn't mind but you can't tell them about anything that goes on in the frat."

"A roomie? I get a roomie?" Anders relaxed a little. If he had a roommate he could have whomever it was wrapped around his little finger in two week, tops.

"Well..." Elissa smirked at her twin. "He's more like a... housemate."

"El! You're seriously- Oh. Oh yes." Aedan grinned. "I have to say, I love your amazingly devious mind."

Anders just blinked between them. "So uh... when can I move in?"

"Today!"

"Right now!"

"Just... tell us everything your new housemate says when you show up," Elissa purred.

"Oh, yes. I want to know his reaction. This is too wonderful. Elissa, dear. Let's go celebrate!"

Anders watched with a raised eyebrow while the pair laughed, hugged, and then bounced out of sight. "And they told me no drugs. Sheesh."


Nathaniel didn't know that at precisely four-thirty pm his life would fall apart. He never suspected that someone could just waltz in and turn his life upside down. So... at four twenty-nine he wasn't preparing to take a stand and when the doorbell rang he didn't run for the hills.

In retrospect he's almost glad he didn't.

But as he stood staring at the blonde hippy at his door, he wondered why the hell he wasn't slamming it in the other's face. Instead, he mustered a polite expression and said, "Yes? Is there some way I can help you?"

The man blushed and bit his lip. "I'm Anders. They didn't call you?"

"Who didn't call me?"

"The twins that run this place."

"I don't talk to them."

"Ah well..." The man scuffed his sneaker on the concrete porch like a child. "I'm your new housemate."

"WHAT?" He turned away from the hippy and started muttering, "I don't have housemates. They promised. Those scheming little snakes promised me I'd never have to deal with people if I didn't want to." He turned an appraising gaze back the the newcomer, who was currently staring at the ground. But I can't just leave him to them. They'd eat him alive... probably literally. He sighed and thumped his head against the wall once. "Fine. Just... just don't bother me. Pick a room that isn't lived in and I'll keep those two off of you. I don't care what they tell you; they aren't your friends and they didn't set this up out of the goodness of their hearts. You'll eat with me, I don't trust them to not drug the new kid."

Anders's eyes got wider and wider as Nathaniel continued to talk. "Okay. Whatever you want, man. You sound like they killed your cat or something."

Nate snorted. "They drove my father to suicide is what they did and then stole my home while I was overseas."

"Oh good, because I have to tell you, I am such a cat pers- what?" The kid's mouth practically hit the floor. "You're Nathaniel Howe? No wonder they seemed so... giddy to foist me off on you."

"They were? Oh, don't just stand there, come on in." Nathaniel waved the student in through the open door and then plopped right back down on his sofa. "Tell me everything."

Anders groaned as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "They were just... devious looking. Happy that someone was going to be stuck with you." He pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Are you that horrid of a roommate?"

"They just don't like me. Never have. Our families have always been at odds," he mused. "Of course my father wasn't exactly the nicest person either."

"I don't get the problem though," the kid pressed, "They're giving people a place to stay. Surely they can't be all that bad?"

"From what I've been able to overhear, their dad has all their money locked away in trust funds and the like. They can't touch it unless he lets them. So he gives them a portion of that money every month, but only if they keep helping people out," Nathaniel chuckled. "Bryce is a great man. His fiends? Not so much."

Nathaniel watched the younger man sit back, looking a bit overwhelmed Anders seemed to make up his mind about something and squared his shoulders. "How do you feel about pets?" he ventured with a hesitant grin.

He frowned, "I'm okay with cats, as they're generally a lot cleaner than dogs, but I'd really prefer something with minimal fuss like a snake or goldfish or something." He watched the other's face fall and sighed, "If an animal would mean that much to you..."

"Wahoo!" Anders punched a fist into the air. "I've always wanted to have a cat."


Three weeks later saw Anders no closer to finding a cat than he was the day he moved in. He fell into a funk and was sure the perfect cat was out there waiting for him, but where? He heard a knock on his door and Nathaniel's voice floated through the wood.

"You home?"

"Yeah. Come on in," the blond pouted and rolled over on his bed so he was facing the doorway.

Nathaniel stepped inside and tossed something furry onto the bed. The art student jerked back in surprise before studying what had to be the most pitiful orange tabby he'd ever seen. The cat's left ear was tattered and his right seemed to be gone, his fur was caked with mud and his tail was missing a good three inches. The cat opened his mouth and let out a rusty sounding meow and slowly blinked his yellow eyes.

"Found him in a gutter. I couldn't just leave him there, he started purring at me."

"He's perfect! Oh, Nathaniel, thanks!" Anders gave the muddy cat a solid hug and looked him square in the eye. "I dub thee Sir Pounce A Lot, knight-kitty of the Wardens."

"Really? That's the name you're giving him? Oh lord, why did I bring that fleabag home?"


Anders stubbornly refused to believe his housemate was straight. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" He prodded late one night while they were watching Repo: The Genetic Opera on Netflix.

Nathaniel merely grunted.

"C'mon, Nate! I wanna know! I've never seen you with anyone and you barely ever talk about your personal life. Open up! Aren't we friends?"

The dark-haired man sighed and paused the movie. "Fine. You want to know if I have a girlfriend? No. I don't, but there is someone I have my eye on," he sighed and settled farther back into the recliner. "The fool doesn't realized, thank God. I'm not even sure if the idiot is even interested in me. There's a lot of things that prevent us from getting together."

"Oh. Sorry, I... I didn't mean to bring up any bad feelings..." Anders struggled to come up with something to say to mask his sharp disappointment. "What's she like? Maybe I can play wingman?"

"No, man. You cannot play wingman." He raised an eyebrow and continued, "They're an art student; funny, gorgeous and blond with the most inviting curves." He smirked. "And an ego to match the looks, but a heart bigger than the ego. I don't think I've ever seen someone so kind and generous, even when they have nothing to give but the shirt they're wearing." He sighed and turned back to the TV. "The worse part is seeing them day after day..."

Anders sat back in his seat to muse over his housemate's words for the rest of the movie. He would continue to pore over the conversation for the next three weeks. He spoke to every classmate they ever had and they would all give him the same funny look before wandering off and muttering to themselves.

It was all very confusing until he came home early one afternoon. After the last time he'd done this and caught glimpses of Elissa and her brother fucking in the small thicket right next to the cottage he'd vowed never to come home early again unless he was sure things were safe. This time, he knew they were in class, so he hurried in the front door, closed it quietly to keep from disturbing Nathaniel and dashed upstairs to his room.

The only downside to the place, as far as he could tell, the walls were paper thin. Every time Nate had a wet dream or a nightmare Anders could hear him.

Like now.

He could hear the ex-soldier moaning something indistinct. He pulled the pillow over his ears, enormously jealous of this girl he'd never seen until one word had him sit upright.

His name.