Author's Note: Here short little bit of humor/flirting/fluff/angst/romance/the usual between Hawke and Anders, and it takes place before the actual romance between them begins. So it focuses on their friendship build up to the romance. And, Warning: There is a bit of steaminess in here.

Conversation/events are made up by me, but characters belong to BioWare of course.

Tell me what you think please! Reviews and critiques are much much much appreciated! Thank you!


Anders was surprised to see her when she walked in looking worse for the wear. "Hawke! What happened to you?" he asked concerned. Maker, she was beautiful even when bloodied and tousled. Especially when tousled. He shook his thoughts away. The absolute last thing he needed to be reminded about was a tousled Hawke. He thought about her that way enough every night. Too much.

"What if I just wanted to visit you? You know, make sure that no Templars had taken my favorite mage." Hawke smiled, looking at him with falsely innocent eyes.

His eyes moved slowly from the arm she held as if it were in a sling, to the bruise beginning to form around her eye, and then up to the gash above her eyebrow. He raised an eyebrow at her. "I can see your wounds."

"Hah. Got me! Well. Funny story. I went to go talk to Isabela at the Hanged Man. She was drunk, as one would expect, and the moment I show up, she conveniently gets into a tavern fight. Long story short, I got thrown into a table and may have a concussion. Also, blood is running into my eye. Or was." She felt around her eye with her fingers. Most of the blood around it had dried up. She was sure she looked hideous. "My arm fucking hurts too, but I think that might be from the table thing."

"Hawke…" he sighed and shook his head at her.

"Hey, it was Isabela's fault, not mine!"

"Yes, but still."

"Well, it's a good thing I know the best healer in Kirkwall," she winked at him.

He sighed at her playfulness. "You know, I could teach you a few simple healing spells. It would be useful for you to know some healing magic."

"But then I wouldn't have an excuse to come see you," she smiled at him fondly.

She was making it very difficult for him not to fall in love with her. Hell, he had already fallen in love with her. She was constantly making it very difficult for him to not act on his feelings, he decided instead. "Since when do you need an excuse?" That only encourages her, damnit.

As if she could read his mind, she laughed, "Oh, I suppose I don't, but having you fret over me is nice."

"Well then, I better get to fretting," he said, directing her to have a seat at a bench as he grabbed a bowl of warm water and a cloth. He furrowed his brow as he began to examine her and she thought it was cute when he did that. Definitely worth getting her ass kicked. She watched his lean hands dip the cloth into the water and ring it out. Hawke enjoyed watching him work, especially on her. His hands were a thing of beauty. Graceful, subtle beauty, she decided; like he used them with great care. Mmmmm, she thought, drifting to places not too uncommon for her. "Didn't Isabela get hurt at all?" His question snapped her out of thoughts.

Hawke laughed bitterly. "I think I took the brunt of it. Being thrown and all. Plus, shots are half-price at the Hanged Man today. I wouldn't even attempt to drag her out of there unless I held no value for my life." Hawke rolled her eyes. "That is the last time I'll help her."

Anders eyes sparkled. "I know you better than that. You'd never refuse to help a friend in need." He began to dab the area around the wound gently to clean the blood off. She was lost in thought about his hands again when he touched the wound and she hissed at the sting. Too stubborn to agree with his statement, she glared at him as her only other option. "She sent me this cryptic message." Hawke put on her Isabela voice, "'Hawke, I need to talk to you. You know where to find me,' it said. Ha! Talk, my ass. If only she'd told me it was a fight, I'd at least be prepared."

"Maybe she thought you wouldn't help her if she told you the truth."

Hawke sighed, "Do you all really think I'm that honor-bound?"

Anders paused and smiled slightly, "Yes."

She grumbled at his response. "I'm a bloody apostate who worked with smugglers to get into Kirkwall and you lot think I'm filled to the brim with honor! Enough Hawke analysis and more healing, Anders," she glared at him pointedly.

"As you say, my dear," he laughed and her glare quickly turned into smiled at the sound. He had one of those contagious laughs, and he certainly didn't laugh enough. She felt his cool fingers began to gently touch the cut above her eyebrow and the area around her eye. Her stomach knotted at his touch. She could definitely get used to those fingers touching her. He didn't do that enough either it seemed. Had he ever touched her before? She recalled giving him a hug as comfort after what happened with Karl, but it was not the same idea. And she was the one to initiate the hug, as she recalled. He had seemed…hesitant. In fact, he always seemed afraid to touch her, and now the feeling held such tenderness that she realized what she had been missing. She did not think she had ever felt that from anyone. It was difficult to focus on anything else besides the feeling of his fingers, how close he was standing and the musky scent that came with it. All contributed in some way to overwhelm her senses, though she could not say which one made the largest contribution.

His fingers were trembling slightly. If she had absolutely no tact, and if her stomach were not tied into a million knots, she might have made a joke about a healer supposing to have steady hands. But she did have tact, despite what her friends said, and the knots in her stomach were currently causing shallow inhalations and shaky exhalations, so she may have been trembling herself.

Anders refused look at anything besides the area he touching as he continued his work. The things she did to him just by being near…He could not lose control around her, especially while using magic. He used a cooling spell with one hand to numb the area around her eye, as his other hand gently touched her arm and numbed the pain in it as well. Feeling the dull throbbing stop suddenly, she attempted to move her arm expecting a slight twinge at the very least, but it moved surprisingly without pain. She noticed that his fingers had left her face, with almost a reluctance on his part, and he was performing a spell to stich her wound and heal her concussion. She missed his touch, but she could not complain about the pleasurable tingling sensation flowing throughout her skin and her entire body. She wasn't sure if it was the magic itself or the fact that Anders was performing it. Then, all the wonderful feelings stopped and she felt disappointment flood her. She realized she had closed her eyes during the healing process and when she opened them, Anders was looking at her with concern and more exhaustion than when she came in. "Better?" he asked her.

"Much better. Thank you, Anders, for healing me. I'm sorry if it was overly strenuous."

"Of course, Hawke." Funny how quickly he could switch from calling her 'my dear' to 'Hawke.' "Don't worry about me. Just promise you'll stay out of trouble from now on when I'm not around."

"Tell Isabela," she said annoyed.

"Yes, I'll say, 'Isabela, stop drinking and fighting,' and then she'll fight me."

Hawke laughed, "Then maybe you should teach me those healing spells so I can fix you up next time."

"Too late. The offer is gone. The only option is for you to stay out of trouble," he tapped the side of her nose and smiled with those crinkly eyes she so loved.

"Well, I don't know if that's going to happen with the friends I keep…" she smiled, but it faded as she furrowed her brow in thought. She looked up into eyes before she spoke. "Anders, about what you said earlier. My honor and all that… You know you can always tell me anything, right? I'll always be here to help you. I'll always listen. I...don't want any secrets between us."

Anders's smiled faded quickly. That wasn't exactly the reaction she was looking for. He was quiet for a moment as he held her gaze, but he looked down and quietly said, "I know, Hawke…I…Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that." He looked back up at her and she was still staring at him poignantly.

His eyes held a sadness that she was determined to change. Right now, she wasn't sure if he really believed her and she didn't know how to make him believe. She wondered how long he would keep flirting with her and then the next moment push her away. She didn't want him to push her away. She smiled at him and touched his arm, attempting a warming spell to comfort him. "I'll always be here," she repeated.

Shock appeared on his face as her warmth enveloped him, comforted him. He had never seen anyone use a spell for such a cause. And then, instead of allowing himself to enjoy the moment, his mind gave to jealousy. He wondered bitterly if she had shown Fenris the same warmth, or other spells to prove magic doesn't ruin everything. He wondered how many lovers she had taken over the years he had known her. Once he realized how he was thinking, he scolded himself. She is not yours to possess. She deserves to be loved, he thought sadly. Loved by someone who will not break her heart. If Hawke wanted someone else, that was her choice, and they would both be better because of it.
But he struggled to see anyone else for her. Every time she was lonely, sad, upset, or had good news to share, she would show up at his dirty clinic, wait patiently until he was done seeing patients and then stay with him for hours. Talking, crying, laughing, or simply sitting quietly. He treasured those moments and had always hoped she treasured them too. But above anything else, he wanted her to be happy, and he didn't know if he could give her the happiness she deserved. It would be selfish to act on his desires.

As if she could feel his internal struggle, she stood up suddenly to pull him into her arms and in response he buried his face into her hair and almost melted into her. She must know what she does to me. How long had it been since he had laid with a woman? Three years? He had wanted no one but Hawke. If she kept this up, he would not be able to resist her any longer. Her arms...felt like home. Something he hadn't felt before. Oh, he had had many lovers in the past. Flirting, kissing, sex had always been a game to him. A rebellion against the Chantry, even an escape. Perhaps he even mixed sex and love together into one feeling. But there was no denying that he had changed. And he had never felt love like this. Never. His emotions overwhelmed him and his mind filled with sudden, vivid imagery. Holding Hawke against him, and no annoying robes between them. Simply feeling the warmth and softness of her skin. She was perfect. Touching her jaw, kissing her neck and feeling her shudder. Tracing a slow, soft line with his finger from her jaw to her collarbone, pausing a moment to lightly kiss her neck again. Continuing even more slowly, between her breasts to her navel. Farther still to her left hip bone, slowly, between her legs…. and then desperately grabbing her hips with both hands and rolling her onto her back as she kisses him passionately and guides him into her. He snapped out of his daydream and took a shaky breath.

"Anders, are you okay?" she pulled away to look at him but kept her hands on his arms.

"I'm fine," he replied quietly. He would not look at her. Could not.

"You're trembling, and you won't look at me," she stated.

"I told you…" he trailed off, his eyes still lowered to the ground.

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall a time today he had told her he wasn't well.

"I told you it's difficult for me to keep control when I'm around you." One hand gave his arm a gentle squeeze. His heart ached and his loins just as much, and he almost told her those three words he had wanted to say to her for so long. But he remained silent. Hawke dropped her hand from his arm reluctantly. She studied her hands quietly for a moment, and decided that she would give him time, playfulness instead of seriousness, whatever he needed. She looked up at him with a cheeky smile. "I'm not going to let you push me away, you know that right?"

He finally looked up at her and returned a slight smile. "I know. Now get out of here. I have real patients that need attended to."

"I am hurt you do not consider me a real patient," she pouted.

"You aren't a patient, you are trouble," he said playfully. "Now out," he said pushing her out the clinic door.