Author's Note: This is sort of a companion fic to an admittedly pseudo-crack, dance-centric AU I haven't actually written yet. The key points are that a.) almost everyone from the games exists in the same time and universe; and b.) the world has been modernized.

This is really just me practicing writing a specific dynamic between Link and Zelda and also an attempt to get back into the Zeldaverse after having abandoned it for quite some time, so I apologize if nothing makes sense. However, the focus here is on interactions more than context, so I hope you enjoy!

The last thing Link had wanted to do today was let Zelda reopen the old wounds to his pride.

Actually, well, 'reopen' might not have been the best word; he had his doubts as to whether they had ever really closed. It may have been a year since the fiasco in the nightclub known as the 'Spirit Temple', but those cuts still stung like yesterday.

It had been one whole year since they'd teamed up to vanquish Ganondorf once and for all… and still, Link couldn't stay triumphant over even the smallest of Zelda's few shortcomings for longer than a moment. This time, it was because he had made the simple mistake of smirking: the ordinarily ethereally graceful princess had tripped over the hem of her gown, and he'd had to catch her.

But then, curling a hand around his neck to bring his head down, Zelda leaned up and whispered—her rose-petal lips brushed his ear; he barely suppressed a shiver—"Fifteen. Points."

Maybe she didn't know how much it hurt to be reminded how close he'd come to winning their contest, but Link was getting tired of it. Twelve months full of reminders of his own failure did not sit well with him, especially after he'd sworn so fervently to beat her. (Okay, he'd actually sworn to beat Sheik… but really, it had ended up being the same thing.)

Link stared at his girlfriend as she stepped away from him, and self-consciously rubbed the place on his neck her hand had touched. "Are you… picking this fight with me? Again?" he asked hesitantly, figuring he should make sure before he decided to pursue one himself.

Zelda shrugged, a strangely devilish smile touching her elegant features. "I'm bored," she sighed. "Besides," she added, a sparkle in her eyes, "we both know I could win." Link scowled; that was it. Neither his sword nor her fists fueled the fire in her comment, as Link well knew; this passion stemmed from dancing—more specifically, the fateful competition they had both entered a year ago, which she had… barely… won. By fifteen points.

"They only gave first prize to you because you're a girl," growled Link, crossing his arms. "I deserved to win that, and you know it." He paused, meeting Zelda's icy blue gaze stonily. "I only came in third place once in seven weeks—and remember, I took the Spirit-themed win away from Ganondorf."

"Okay, that's pretty impressive and all," conceded Zelda, standing on one hip with a dangerous glint in her eyes, "but what makes you think I only won because I'm a girl?"

Link sighed, shaking his head with a hand raised to his forehead. Did he really have to go into this with her? She knew exactly how alluring she was, and she never let him forget it, either. "Every man in that club thought you were sexy," he explained reluctantly, dropping his hand. "They just didn't want to admit it till the last week because you were, you know, crossdressi—"

"Did you?" interrupted Zelda, crossing her arms with an amused expression, and Link halted mid-word. He'd learned to be very, very wary of that look on her face. It generally meant Trouble with a capital T: the next thing she said would make him want to either kiss her… or kill her.

Blinking, Link looked his confusion, and Zelda heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Did you think I was hot while I was still Sheik?" she elaborated slowly, quirking an eyebrow, and Link glared at her disbelievingly. That was kind of a personal question; it wasn't like he'd asked about whether or not she had been acting when (as Sheik, of course) she'd kissed Malon's hand or walked out with her hand around Impa's waist.

"…Not really," responded Link uncomfortably, readjusting his hat. There had certainly been something enigmatic about Sheik, but his attraction was not quite of a physical kind. More like, Link was inexplicably drawn to him—curious about him, certain there was something he was hiding… and he had been right. In the moment when Sheik was revealed to be Princess Zelda, everything had made sense, down to his admittedly odd fascination.

"Not really," repeated Zelda skeptically, swaying in place.

"Yeah, not really," defended Link. "Seriously. I could tell there was something off about you, and I wanted to know what it was. And then I found out you were a girl, and then I realized you were hot." He met her eyes once more, unable to conceal his exasperation. "Any more dumb questions?"

"Ouch," remarked Zelda, resting a hand over her heart before shaking her head and returning her hands to her hips. "Anyway, so you think I won because I'm attractive and all the men could finally vote for me with a clear conscience."

Link nodded. "Exactly. That… or they were afraid to vote against their princess." Come to think of it, that was probably more likely, but he hadn't taken the time to consider it much before; her class wasn't usually the first thing on his mind when he saw her in action.

Zelda only laughed lightly in response, taking a graceful step or two closer to him; he eyed her suspiciously. "What would they have been afraid of?" she prompted, teasingly. "The votes were anonymous. They were free to speak their mind and they knew it—and they picked me, not you."

"It was a collaboration," responded Link through grit teeth. How often were they going to have this exact argument? He should know better than to reenact the steps the same way each time, but he couldn't help it. "We were working together against Ganondorf. If you ask me, we should have gotten fifty points apiece, and then it would have been fair." He paused. "And I would have won."

"But no one asked you," pointed out Zelda playfully. "And so, I win." Not won. Win. Again, still. Nothing was in the past with this girl, and it drove Link crazy. Seven years could pass and she'd probably still be talking about it like it had just happened.

Letting out a strangled, groan-like sigh, Link crossed his arms and stared down at her in his best attempt at intimidation; she looked serenely back up at him, bright blue eyes still gleaming with mischief. "Remind me again," he growled. "Why haven't I messed up your face yet?"

(That wasn't exactly the standard way to speak to one's girlfriend, he knew—especially when said girlfriend was also the princess—but this was hardly a 'standard' relationship.)

As though deep in thought, Zelda dropped her gaze, narrowed her eyes, and raised a dainty hand to her chin—and then, after a few miraculously silent moments, her eyes lit up and she met his eyes once more. "You're afraid to hit a girl?" she suggested, putting her hands behind her back and swaying slightly in place with a smile.

Link rolled his eyes. This again? Without so much as a hesitation, he curled his fingers and swung his fist at her, knowing she'd counter; he wasn't wrong. Zelda brought her hands forward again and, using some Sheikah move, redirected his energy off to the side. He staggered, unbalanced—but before he could straighten up and try again, his girlfriend caught him by the biceps, pushed him against the nearest wall, and pinched his nose none too lightly.

Wincing, Link slid his fingers between Zelda's slender digits and parted them in an effort to be able to breathe properly again. "Oh yeah," he remembered. "That's why." Her Sheikah skills were no less real for the abandonment of her disguise, after all—but even if she'd won that round, at least Link had proved he wasn't a coward. (But then, he'd also proven that chivalry was indeed dead… so it was a double-edged sword, as it were.)

"Besides," observed Zelda with a small and seductive smile, relaxing her hand and caressing his cheek, "you like my face." Link let out a long breath, shaking his head slightly. 'Liking' her face was an understatement. If she hadn't kept half of it hidden when she was Sheik, her earlier question might have had quite a different answer—but of course, he would never admit that.

"Your face is stupid," muttered Link, looking down the hallway rather than at her, but felt the color rise to his cheeks anyway beneath her gentle touch, which retracted at his words. He couldn't lie for long; Zelda's face, along with the rest of her, was the gods' gift to Hyrule, and she knew he thought so.

(For all her stubbornness and mischief, she was a kind and compassionate and hopelessly romantic girl… and anything but stupid. Plus, it wasn't just her face but all of her physical features—from her dirty-blonde hair to her clear blue eyes to her soft pink lips to her willowy figure—that added up to absolute perfection in his eyes.)

Zelda giggled, raising a hand to her mouth and drawing his attention back to the present. "Wow," she teased, smiling. "You really know how to make a girl feel good." And he knew she had taken Link's halfhearted insult as all the compliments he could never enunciate, as he had hoped she would.

After all, every time he tried to tell Zelda all the things he loved about her, he choked up. He stuttered and stammered, or scribbled out lines of poetry one by one until the paper was a mess of ink, or canceled that three-word text message. But Zelda always knew—because even if Link couldn't speak, they could still nap in the sunshine, or ride through the countryside on Epona, or steal kisses on their strolls around the castle grounds, or…

You really know how to make a girl feel good. Link found himself smirking at her choice of words. Oh, yes he did. (Ilia had trained him well—though she had never prepared him for the, ahem, incident in the Temple of Time.) "I know," he murmured, tilting her chin up, and Zelda balanced on her tiptoes and closed her eyes lazily: he smiled appreciatively, tracing her jaw lightly.

Ever since the beginning of their relationship, half a year hence, Link had been very shy about taking initiative—so she had helped him out by shutting her eyes so he wouldn't feel like she was judging him whenever he kissed her. Since then, he had become much braver, but closed eyes remained their secret signal.

And who was Link to stain a perfect record of heeding her every hint? It would be disrespectful to his princess to disobey an implied order. Tracing her jaw lightly, he finally leaned down to meet Zelda's waiting lips—well aware that by succumbing to this sweet temptation, he was letting her win once more. Victory in this endless fight simply didn't mean enough to him to spurn the gentle advances of a girl who was practically a goddess incarnate.

As they broke apart, Link rested his forehead against hers, tucking a hand around her waist, and Zelda twined her arms around his neck—but as their lips were about to brush once more, she breathed an all-too-familiar phrase. "Fifteen points," she reminded him once more, but her tone sounded different from the way she said it a few minutes ago… more like an apology.

Maybe this fight wouldn't end in a frustrating impasse like all the others, after all; here was an almost unprecedented chance to change things. Was it really so bad that he wasn't the ultimate winner? Zelda was an exceptional dancer, after all; if anyone besides himself had said she didn't deserve the win, Link might have gutted them. And suddenly, coming in second didn't seem so bad after all, especially by such a close margin: it may as well have been a tie.

"But only fifteen," conceded Link in a whisper, and Zelda's radiant smile was all the reward he needed for his surrender before the gap closed between them once more, the wounds to his dignity finally healing over with her every touch.