"I don't see why we even had to pick someone. Why can't it stay just us?"

"Because we won't have enough money for rent then."

"And?"

"And then we'll die."

"Who's dying?"

"No one."

"They're not that bad, Tharja."

"Why don't you pick someone then?" The dark haired woman sighed, picking at her nails rather than making eye contact with either of the other two.

"I don't want to bear the sole responsibility for picking someone bad!" Robin said, waving her hands in front of her face.

"You have excellent taste in me, as we all know, so why don't you-" Tharja teased, but Robin effectively cut her off with a glare.

Henry sighed, ignoring the girls bickering. He scooped up all the applications they had received in the mail before their deadline and stuck them up on the wall. He pondered over them. None of them particularly looked like a serial killer, which was always a good start. There was almost an even split of boys and girls, though if he was being honest he would rather have another male. He had been surrounded by women for so long- both Robin and Tharja had left Plegia with him and their last roommate, Maribelle, had only moved out because she was getting married.

It was technically her house, but she promised to rent it out to them as another source of income. She had bought the house outright- a large semi detached house in the suburbs of Ylisstol was expensive, but she was born into a rich family and had the money to buy a four bedroom house as soon as she left university. But none of the remaining occupants were complaining- it meant they weren't out on their ear, left to wander the streets of the capital until they found somewhere else. And of course, Maribelle still dropped by with fancy homemade cakes every now and again.

"Henry, do you have any valuable insight into these potential house mates?" Robin asked, and the white haired man turned to face her with a shrug.

"I think they'd all be okay, honestly. After thinking on it, I reckon none of them are serial killers, none of them seem to have a particularly shady back-story and definitely none of them are from Plegia."

"Helpful," Tharja drawled. "We need to pick so they can get moved in by the end of the month. I am not paying extra for rent because I pay most of the food bill."

"Well, I pay for petrol and car insurance and I drive both of you everywhere-" Robin protested.

"But you're the best paid out of all of us."

"I'm pretty sure that Henry gets more money than me."

"Hence why I pay all the bills."

"Well then, you've proved my point. We need to pick someone tonight," Tharja sighed.

"I like the girl three in on the left," Robin suggested, pointing at the picture Henry had stuck up. "She's a vet."

"No offence, but I don't want another girl. You are too much to deal with already and Maribelle was even worse."

"That's fair," Tharja shrugged.

"Take down all the girl's pictures then," Robin suggested, and Henry jumped up to rip the pages down. He tossed them carelessly in the recycling, and they fluttered to the bottom like snowflakes.

"What now?"

"No dentists," Tharja demanded, and Henry took down another picture. Robin sighed into her tea- he was the most interesting in terms of hobbies in her mind. He liked Shakespeare and poetry and history; all things she took a great interest in.

"Anything else?" Henry asked, but when the two girls still came up blank, he sighed, throwing himself onto the sofa and lifting his coffee from the small glass table in the centre of the room.

"I've got it," Tharja said suddenly.

"You've picked someone?" Robin asked, watching the woman as she got up. But instead of walking towards the pictures, she went outside, rattling about in the shed for a good ten minutes while Robin and Henry looked at each other in confusion. She came back with a red dart from the dartboard Henry had insisted on taking from Plegia curled in her fingers. She sat directly opposite the pictures, closed her eyes tight and threw it, the tip piercing through the forehead of one applicant.

"I still don't understand why you made them send in pictures," Robin commented as Tharja took the page down from the wall. "Especially if you were going to do something like that."

"I don't want to live with someone with a neck beard," she smirked, glancing over her victim's page. "And besides, I didn't know I would head shot him."

There was a sudden knock at the door and Henry shot up to answer it. Tharja took her seat again and Robin scooted over beside her, looking at the picture of the person Tharja's dart had chosen. Aside from the hole in his forehead, he was relatively attractive, and Robin could already see Tharja eyeing him up.

"Lon'qu," Tharja mused.

"I think it's pronounced more like 'Lon'qu," Robin corrected, and Tharja raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, more like a 'coo'?"

"Why are you guys making pigeon sounds?" Henry asked, returning to the living room with Maribelle behind him carrying a large pastry box.

"We're trying to pronounce this guy's name."

"It's a Chon'sin name by the sounds of things," Maribelle said, seating herself in her old seat which Robin had since claimed for her legs.

"Of course you would know," Tharja said, rolling her eyes.

"I think Robin was right. But anyway, I brought cinnamon swirls. They're a bit wonky, but they'll do."

"Are you giving up being a magistrate to become a pastry chef?" Henry joked, and she rolled her eyes.

"Heavens, no. Anyway, I'm just dropping in to let you know your rent is due at the end of next week and if you don't have a new roommate by then you'll just have to make up the money yourselves." She was gone almost as soon as she arrived, and Tharja threw the page down on the table, rolling her eyes at the empty space where Maribelle was a few seconds earlier.

"Call him." Henry disappeared into the kitchen with his phone to his ear, shutting the door closed behind him.

Robin lifted the page, scanning over the information. He hadn't listed an occupation, only 'unemployed, but I have five job interviews this week'. If Maribelle reckoned his name was Chon'sinese, he was probably an immigrant like themselves. The least they could do was give him a place to stay while he got himself sorted in the city. He had only written various forms of exercise and cooking in his hobbies section, so there was no hope of her having any conversations about Fine Art or ancient poetry. She sighed, putting the page pack down on the table. Tharja had turned on the TV to the news, and Robin settled into the corner of the sofa, trying to drown out the sound of the Plegian election.

Robin's love life was miserable. She was twenty six, almost twenty seven and she had never in her life had a steady boyfriend. She had no shortage of dates, but getting a second date was unlikely, and a third next to impossible. But tonight, she thought, would be different. She had bumped into a guy in a coffee shop a few weeks ago and they had finally organised their schedules to have a date. It was classy- after all, what could you expect from a paramedic and a lawyer?

His name was Chrom, and she had literally bumped into him while collecting her cappuccino before her shift on that fateful Wednesday. He was a good head taller than her, and he had beautiful blue hair that framed his face. She had practically fallen in love with him there and then, and after a short conversation in which she discovered he seemed to share her feelings they exchanged phone numbers and had spent the last few weeks talking almost constantly. She felt like a teenager again, and that scared her- she wasn't used to feelings like this.

She tried her very best to look presentable that evening. Makeup and clothes weren't her forte at all. She had a large wardrobe of clothes, but none of them were right for this sort of occasion. Often those who Robin dated weren't interested in her looks, more her brain or if she was unlucky, her money. But Chrom was different, so she had to be attractive in every way possible. Her wardrobe looked particularly uninviting this time, but she found the red dress she had worn to her graduation to be a suitable choice of outfit. It was knee length and floaty, the perfect sort of attire for a first date in a restaurant such as the one Chrom had chosen.

With her makeup done, a light gold eye shadow and red lipstick, a bag slung over her shoulder and heels that she already deemed uncomfortable, Robin was ready to go. She ran downstairs a few minutes before Chrom was due to arrive to pick her up and posed in the door way for Tharja to judge her. She held a thumb up, nodding slowly. The dark haired woman often played Robin's wing woman, despite the other girl knowing of her strong feelings for her. Tharja had stopped caring for Robin as much in the past few years, knowing that she would never return the feelings she held.

"What do you think?"

"You should do something with your hair. Aside from that it looks great. Very good for a dinner with the most boring person I've ever heard of."

"Hey," Robin protested, twirling her white hair around her fingers as she braided it over her shoulder. "He seems lovely."

"Just you wait; you'll come back from this date hating him. I swear, lawyers are boring! Don't you remember that one I dated back in Plegia?"

"She was weird, though. She tucked her jumper into her skirt."

"Well, maybe she was an outlier. Still, I don't reckon this will go well. Maybe you should prove me wrong and bring him home," Tharja smirked, curling up more into the corner of the sofa.

"He's not like that," Robin protested, feeling her face heat up.

"Is that not sort of what you're looking for?"

"Tharja!"

"Well?"

"If I find someone to get married to, then I won't need to have one night stands anymore, will I?"

"Are you thinking about marrying him already? Gods, Robin, this is your first date! Well, tell him he can pay rent."

Luckily for Robin, there came a sharp knock at the door, and as she picked up her bag, Tharja darted around her and got to the door first, opening it with a sweet smile on her face. Robin was almost reluctant to follow her, knowing that she would walk into either an awkward silence or Tharja telling Chrom things about her she didn't want him to know. And the gods forbid she started talking about the one night stands! Robin scuttled into the hall, almost tripping on her heels as she desperately tried to put an end to the conversation that she imagined was happening. In fact, Tharja was just telling him that she would just be a moment, practically hidden behind the door. Chrom's face lit up when he saw her, and she smiled brightly as she made her way towards him.

"Good evening," he said, and Robin glared at Tharja when the dark haired girl had to stifle a snort.

"Hi," she breathed. There was a moment of magic then, and she could feel her heart speeding up as she gazed at him. He was just as attractive as she remembered, his suit a tight fit to him. They went towards his car, parked in the quiet street outside, and Tharja shut the door, following them with her eyes until they were long out of sight.

They drove in relative silence- Robin always found it strange to talk in the car, and hated it personally when someone was talking incessantly when she was behind the wheel. Chrom had some sort of soft classical music on, which raised her hopes of him being into the same sort of arts that she was. Her hopes were quickly dashed when she realised it was merely a 'best of' classical CD, one she knew Tharja had bought for the house to appease her. Oh well, she thought, at least she still had some more topics of conversation.

Robin had never met anyone that acted as much of a gentleman as Chrom had. When they arrived outside the restaurant, he parked the car then hopped out to open the door for her. He had booked a table tucked away in the back corner of the restaurant and as they took their seats, he called a waiter over to take her coat. It was a lot classier than she imagined, with plush velvet seats and gold gilt legs on the tables. Even with the ambient mood lighting, she felt it was dark, and she had to squint at her menu to decipher it.

"Have you decided what you want?" He asked her, and she glanced up to meet his eyes.

"There's a lot of choice." It was a pathetic answer, really, and stemmed truthfully from her complete unawareness of Ylissian foods.

"Shall I order a bottle of wine?"

"Good idea," she sighed, picking up the menu again. Every now and again she glanced up at him only to see him gazing fondly at her. She set the menu down, smiling at him.

"Have you had a good week? You mentioned you were choosing a new roommate?"

"Oh, yeah. We picked a guy from Chon'sin. He's moving in early next week, I think. How has your week been?"

"It's been good. I got given a big murder case, so that'll keep me occupied for a while."

"Oh, I saw on TV. That guy... Gaius? That seemed like a complicated case to me."

"I don't think it's as complicated as it sounds. I'm not even sure he did it."

"Do you not have some kind of confidentiality clause?" Robin said, a hint of a smirk appearing on her face.

"It's all over the news, I don't think confidentiality really comes into this case."

"I suppose you have a point. I just find it weird to hear people discussing their work in such detail, since in my line of work, there's a ridiculous amount of patient confidentiality."

"Ah yes, Robin the paramedic, right?" Chrom smiled.

"I'm glad you know what job I actually do. Tharja just calls me an ambulance driver. Which, to be fair, I do."

"Well, I made an effort to remember what you did for a job. It'd be rude to turn up and have no idea what the other person did, especially if you've been talking for weeks like we have."

"Are you ready to order?" A waiter asked, appearing beside them with the wine Chrom had previously ordered. He set two glasses down and poured them generously, and Robin had to restrain herself from reaching out for it right away.

"I'll have the trout and baby potatoes," Chrom said, and the waiter nodded, jotting down the order in his book. "Robin?" Chrom prompted, and Robin pointed to the dish she wanted.

"I don't know how to pronounce it," she mumbled, and the waiter nodded again before leaving. "We don't have most of this food where I'm from."

"You're not from Ylisstol?" Chrom asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not even from Ylisse, I'm afraid," she laughed, tucking a stray stand of hair behind her ear. "I'm Plegian, born and raised. Although I kinda disowned my country when I travelled here with my friends. We've been living here for nearly three years."

"Oh."

"Is there something wrong?" Robin asked, fear rising in her chest.

"No! No, not at all. I just assumed you were from here."

"Was the hair not a giveaway?" She teased, trying to make light of what had quickly become an awkward situation.

"I suppose it should've, but I didn't think. It's lovely, by the way. Very unique."

"Us foreigners have a knack for being 'unique' I've been told." This time, she grabbed her wine, sipping it quickly to diffuse the tension. Within moments, her glass was done, and she poured another glass. He was doing his best not to make eye contact with her, and she felt all hopes of Chrom being The One leaving her body as she watched him.

"Do you... enjoy classical music?" She asked, hoping the answer would be yes, yes I do, I love it. "The CD in the car was nice."

"Oh... I find it relaxing to listen to. Not a huge fan, though. I played piano as a child, but I have no interest in it now. Do... do you?"

"I was a talented oboe player once," she laughed. "Not an instrument that most people even know what it is. And my friend Maribelle bought us a piano, so I've been reliving my childhood dreams of being a concert pianist recently."

"You'll have to play for me sometime."

"I will."

"What about other types of music? Any bands you like?"

"I honestly don't know," Robin admitted. "I'm not allowed to play music when I'm driving the ambulance, and when Henry's in the car with me he puts on some strange Valmese heavy metal. There were some obscure Plegian bands I liked back in the day, but none popular enough for you to have heard of." Robin set her glass down and rubbed her forehead. "Gods, back in the day... I sound like such an old person."

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Chrom looked a little nervous at his question, but Robin merely laughed.

"Twenty six."

"I'm twenty eight."

"Almost at the big 3-0."

"Don't start," Chrom laughed."My sister teases me daily about that. She turns up at my house for dinner even though she knows I can't cook."

"How old is she?"

"I have two. Older one is thirty three, younger is twenty five. It's the younger one that annoys me all the time. Lissa, her name is. Seems to constantly be over at my house. She's a teacher but I have no idea when she does any marking since she's always pestering me. Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope. I'm an only child. My mother died when I was pretty young."

"Sorry to bring that up."

"It doesn't bother me," Robin said truthfully, waving a hand. "I barely remember her, so it doesn't really hurt, you get it?"

"I do. I suppose that's the same with my mother too. She died when Lissa was young."

"This is getting a bit too deep for a first date conversation, don't you think?" Robin laughed, nervously sipping her drink again.

"Perhaps. It's usually the conversation topic reserved for when the couple confess their love to each other and then all the dramatic things in their life come out. But I feel like I can talk about this stuff with you."

Ah, there it was. Robin raised an eyebrow over her wine glass. Although they had been talking for a few weeks, this was still their first official date, and for him to say something like that... well, that was just weird. So instead of replying, she laughed awkwardly, and rejoiced when the waiter set her plate of fancy rice down in front of her.

"I had fun tonight," Chrom said casually on the way home. He had only half drank his glass of wine while Robin had consumed most of the rest of the bottle, so he was still okay to drive.

"It was certainly an interesting date," Robin said.

"Do you want to meet up again? Maybe some time next week?" He suggested sheepishly.

"That'd be cool. Coffee, or something more casual like that?"

"Coffee sounds perfect."

"Coffee it is," Robin confirmed, rubbing her forehead. Her drink induced headache was already beginning to kick in, and she cursed herself for making such a fool of herself in drinking all that wine.

He pulled up outside her house, and she took a moment to collect her thought before moving towards the door. She wasn't the hugest fan of him- he was sweet, alright, but she wasn't sure he was just for her. He was dorky and kind and he meant well, but some of his comments set her slightly on edge, and she wasn't entirely certain that was a good thing. But there was only one way to figure out what her feelings for him truly were, and that was to go on another date.

"Thanks for the lift home. And thanks for paying for dinner. You really didn't need to do that."

"Ah, but I wanted to. I'll call you some time in the next few days to arrange coffee."

"Sounds great."

He was awkwardly waiting for the inevitable goodnight kiss (or at the very least, a hug) without actually wanting to initiate it himself. So instead, she leaned across the gap between the driver's seat and the passenger seat and pressed her lips to his very briefly. That seemed to be enough to satisfy him, as he was grinning when she clambered out of the car. She waved to him as he drove off from inside the hallway, then immediately turned to reapply her lipstick.

A/N: Do not be alarmed by the Robin/Lon'qu tag and then the Robin/Chrom. it's all necessary okay.